Teryn's usual composed expression betrays only the faintest flicker of irritation at the guard’s smugness. Some people just can’t help but gloat. But he doesn’t waste time arguing. "I see a hatch over here. It's a bit of a tight squeeze though," he whispers to the others, his movements calm and deliberate as he makes his way towards the other end of the warehouse. With a fluid motion, he pulls back the canvas, revealing the storage hatch beneath and pushing it open a crack. Then, with barely a whisper of sound, he vanishes in a swirl of arcane mist, reappearing outside the hatch in an instant.
Rowan jerks his chin upward, nodding at the high-set windows. “Might be a climb, but I’ve hauled myself up bigger fences on the farm,” he mutters, half to himself. He addresses the crew pointing up, “Could slip out that way—if you’re good with heights. But I’ll tag along with Teryn.” He crosses the warehouse in a few quick strides, crouching beside the hatch as Teryn’s misty form disappears. “Lucky I’m small. One upside to trudgin’ around at halfling height, I guess.” He hovers there, hatch cracked open, offering a quick glance back over his shoulder. “Let’s move, folks."
(He's waiting for the others to be ready to leave one way or the other in case they get trapped and need help. He intends to go last.)
"Luckly, i'm a dwarf too! pretty small,Else i could try my charm on the others." Byldeth chuckles, a bit nervous that he might get in trouble with the law. He quickly rushes at the Hatch, entering it. Once inside the hatch, he would put a hand on the ground and use his Tremorsense to see if there was anyone else inside to surprise them.
( Stonecunning: As a Bonus Action, you gain Tremorsense with a range of 60 ft. for 10 minutes. You must be on or touching a natural or worked stone surface to use this Tremorsense)
As Teryn's silvery mist fades to the other side of the hatch, he's met by darkness and the soft murmur of distant voices mingling with creaking wood and lapping water against the moist sea-soaked walls of the passage. Thankfully, the shadows here are deep and offer a measure of concealment, giving the group a good area to drop any unwanted attention.
Rowan holds the hatch steady, muscles tensed, watching Byldeth quickly slip past him and down into the hatch, moving with surprising grace for his stout frame. Byldeth presses his palm firmly to the stone below, concentrating as subtle vibrations echo through the ground. He senses only the faintest distant tremors—no immediate threat below, but perhaps the distant movement of people outside in nearby streets, likely approaching the warehouse's main entrance. For now, the path beneath appears safe.
The canvas overhead shifts slightly in the draft. Time is short—the distant voices grow louder, accented by occasional coarse laughter and muffled footsteps. From the front entrance, the sounds of people beginning to gather can be heard clearly now, oblivious of the party slipping quietly away from the imminent trouble.
"We are safe." Byldeth tells the others, after making sure there were no immediate threats on the path they were walking. "Is anyone in need of healing?"
Ellanise follows the others to the hatch, not wanting to split up again. That was almost a disaster. Her mind is still reeling as she tries to fit all of the pieces together. "I wish we could bring him along," he says out loud to herself. Then, thinking again about what she just said, she leans into the hatch and asks in a loud whisper. "Byldeth, do you think you could carry the smaller guard if we knock him out?" She looks at the others. "I'd like to ask him some more questions."
Teryn raises an eyebrow at Ellanise's question, unable to resist a light chuckle. "Taking a hostage? Hm, I suppose it would save us the trouble of him telling the others about our little discussion...I am not opposed, but then again I won't be the one carrying him."
As Teryn spoke with the guard, Käinen silently and almost jovial worked into tying the sleeping brute legs with his chain. Only to be greeted by the sound of approaching clients. With a sigh he started undoing his work.
“We can always remember him thatif anyone hear about us, Veyla will know what he said. But if it’s about carrying him…” He raised the newly freed chain. “Leave it to me. It will be super easy. Barely an inconvenience.” Though he had little more strength than average he was exceptionally prone to enduring weight. An inclination of his large build, the Wardens would say. The larger bones did seem better at distributing cargo. “You resist and, well, we can just beat up to death.”
There was a levity on his voice and not by coincidence – the threat was so empty it didn’t stay for long on his mind. Words are wind, his masters used to say. The goliath didn’t wait for an answer before starting an attempt to tie the human. Despite not asking he wouldn’t be opposed to any help Part of him could not help but lament the fact that they didn’t have time to look around the place better. Stealing from smugglers wouldn’t weigh on his mind.
Rowan stands at the hatch, fingers tapping absently against his makeshift belt—an anxious habit he’s never quite shaken. At the first mention of dragging the guard along, he shakes his head adamantly, voice pitched low yet urgent. “No sense haulin’ a grown man through a rabbit hole, folks. That’ll slow us down quicker than a broke plow in a muddy field. And I promised we’d keep things quiet—kidnappin’ a man isn’t exactly hush-hush.” He glances over to Käinen, raising a brow. “I mean, look at you, big guy. You might squeeze through, but heftin’ that dead weight? He’ll squeal the whole way. I just don’t see the harvest in it.” With a quick, restless glance toward the warehouse door, Rowan adds, “Let’s leave him here and hope he’d rather keep his mouth shut than explain this mess to his boss. Not to mention his companion, who would have to admit that he fell asleep on the job, too.”
Byldeth hums, smiling as he flexed his muscles, "Of course! I am the muscle, after all. hehe." He comments, scratching his beard. "But . . . i don't think if i'm okay with this. This counts as kidnapping, right? . . ." The Dwarf asks, suddenly feeling a bit guilty.
"Oh- thank you, my friend." He chuckles, feeling relieved at Rowan's response. "I also feel that we shoudn't risk our souls with such petty sins."
He reached deeper into the tunnel, keeping a hand on the walls so he can keep checking if there are dangers nearby. "Either way, we should just get out of here. Hopefully this tunnel leads outside . . . or deeper into their hideout?"
“We can just gag him, tie him with the chain and pull him until the exit. Just like in a rescue.”His eyes suddenly turn in a thousand miles stares as he remembers his training. Running mountains up and down carrying someone on the back, hours pulling people up the monastery wall with nothing but rope. He could almost feel the muscles burning and the arms trembling. To him the worst wounds were always on the hands. “If he moves too much or we get caught we just beat him up.”
Käinen thought Byldeth’s worry was naïve at best. They were risking their lives and that was reason enough to kill, let alone do anything else. At least he’s not eager to disregard his rules for a greater good. His masters had taught him that doing so was an easy way to commit atrocities. To turn violence into the answer for even minor inconveniences. Only tyranny and fanaticism come from that, they would say time and again. You’re a good man, dwarf. He said with the voice of his mind. Maybe too good for the life of a mercenary.
“Either way, decide now and move.” Unless they wanted to pretend thee was no one there, waiting for the clients to go away, they needed to leave.
Teryn gives a shrug, not feeling too strongly one way or another about bringing the guard along. He shifts aside to let Byldeth lead the way through the passage with his Tremorsense, following cautiously. The last thing they need is to wait around too long and get caught after all this.
Ellanise frowns, pushes her hair back behind her pointed ears, then gives a minute shake of the head. "You're right," she says finally. Her lips arch into a slight smile — a smile of self-reflection and remembrance. "We've probably learned all we can from him." She looks at the guard, even lifting a finger and jab in his direction. "Don't forget that we had the chance and chose to leave you behind." With that, she hops through the trap door, ready to escape.
The moment the last of you slips through the hatch, the sounds of the warehouse above become muffled—voices fading into the distance as you descend into the damp, shadowy passage below. The tunnel is narrow but surprisingly well-maintained, the walls reinforced with aged wooden beams, their surfaces worn smooth by years of quiet use. A faint scent of damp earth and saltwater lingers in the air, mingling with the stale aroma of bodies having passed through here countless times before.
Byldeth takes the lead, his dwarven senses attuned to the very stone beneath his boots. The rough-hewn floor gives way to packed dirt, and as his fingers briefly touch the wall, he lets his Tremorsense ripple outward. The vibrations of the tunnel’s structure hum in his bones—empty stretches ahead, but the faintest, rhythmic shift of weight… movement.
There are two figures roughly 40 feet ahead, moving away from you, their footfalls uneven as if they are carrying something heavy. Perhaps workers making a routine delivery or hauling a recent acquisition. They don’t seem to have noticed your group yet. Further out, at the very edge of his range, a third presence—fainter, standing still. Possibly a sentry. Their stillness suggests they are keeping watch or waiting for something.
The passage itself extends deeper into darkness, curving slightly to the right. There are lanterns mounted along the walls at intermittent intervals, but only a few flicker dimly. A low ceiling pipe drips occasionally, the sound amplified in the hush. A few crates and barrels are stacked along the sides of the tunnel, likely meant for storage rather than passage.
Rowan trudges along, every step muffled against the packed dirt floor. The dim lantern light is enough for him to see by—no sense drawing out the moon-touched scimitar and making himself a beacon for whoever might be lurking ahead. Instead, he slides a normal shortsword free of its sheath, keeping it low and angled, ready to ward off trouble. Glancing back at the hatch for the briefest moment, he releases a soft sigh—it already feels like the dust has settled on that mess behind them.
Deep in his chest, though, there’s a subtle hum of power—an echo of the giant magic that first sparked inside him when he put on that rune-etched belt. He can’t quite explain it, but every now and then, a pulse runs through his veins, hinting at a strength greater than his frame suggests. For now, he keeps it in check. No need to blow the doors off this cramped tunnel if he can avoid it. Still, there’s a quiet promise lurking under his skin: Should the darkness here turn hostile, Rowan’s newfound, half-forgotten legacy is ready to erupt.
Teryn’s steps falter for the briefest moment as a sensation washes over him—a ripple of energy, subtle but undeniable, threading through his veins like starlight woven into shadow. A faint whisper, not words but intent, dances at the edge of his thoughts, brushing against his consciousness like leaves stirring in an unseen breeze. Approval.
His patron is watching. And pleased.
A slow smile curves his lips as he steadies his stride, allowing the power to settle within him. The whispers fade, leaving behind a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Mindlessly walking in the middle of the pack, Ellanise once again replays what the guard had told them. The Duskrats were definitely involved in the heist. And under the instruction of someone named Veyla. From the Guilded Iris. Does she dare try to contact Mariel again to ask her? Who else might know where it is located? The guard said something about nobles going there. But more than knowing where it's located, you have to have an invitation or a name to get in, he had said. What, exactly, does that mean?
"Do any of you know any nobles in the city?" she whispers.
Teryn’s silver eyes flick toward Ellanise at her whispered question, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips. “I know of a noble who could help—Lord Saelric Vareth. A wizard of some repute, well-connected, and certainly the type to be familiar with exclusive establishments like the Gilded Iris.” His tone is measured, though there’s a distinct undercurrent of reluctance as he adds, “However, we are not exactly on friendly terms.”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Vareth enjoys power games, favors that demand repayment, and reminding others of their place. If we seek his help, expect him to extract a price—subtle or otherwise.” His gaze sharpens slightly, lips curving in a faint smirk. “Still, if we’re desperate, I can think of ways to...persuade him.”
Byldeth raised his hands upon sensing more people ahead, signalizing the party to stop. "Two people, approximately 40 feet ahead. They seem to be carrying something heavy. There is also some kind of guard . . . A sentry, he is watching. I am not good with stealth, so i don't think i will be able to pass unnoticed. Anyone has a good idea?" The dwarf speaks, turning his head to the group. "Maybe we can create some kind of distraction?"
Teryn's usual composed expression betrays only the faintest flicker of irritation at the guard’s smugness. Some people just can’t help but gloat. But he doesn’t waste time arguing. "I see a hatch over here. It's a bit of a tight squeeze though," he whispers to the others, his movements calm and deliberate as he makes his way towards the other end of the warehouse. With a fluid motion, he pulls back the canvas, revealing the storage hatch beneath and pushing it open a crack. Then, with barely a whisper of sound, he vanishes in a swirl of arcane mist, reappearing outside the hatch in an instant.
Rowan jerks his chin upward, nodding at the high-set windows. “Might be a climb, but I’ve hauled myself up bigger fences on the farm,” he mutters, half to himself. He addresses the crew pointing up, “Could slip out that way—if you’re good with heights. But I’ll tag along with Teryn.” He crosses the warehouse in a few quick strides, crouching beside the hatch as Teryn’s misty form disappears. “Lucky I’m small. One upside to trudgin’ around at halfling height, I guess.” He hovers there, hatch cracked open, offering a quick glance back over his shoulder. “Let’s move, folks."
(He's waiting for the others to be ready to leave one way or the other in case they get trapped and need help. He intends to go last.)
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
"Luckly, i'm a dwarf too! pretty small, Else i could try my charm on the others." Byldeth chuckles, a bit nervous that he might get in trouble with the law. He quickly rushes at the Hatch, entering it. Once inside the hatch, he would put a hand on the ground and use his Tremorsense to see if there was anyone else inside to surprise them.
( Stonecunning: As a Bonus Action, you gain Tremorsense with a range of 60 ft. for 10 minutes. You must be on or touching a natural or worked stone surface to use this Tremorsense)
As Teryn's silvery mist fades to the other side of the hatch, he's met by darkness and the soft murmur of distant voices mingling with creaking wood and lapping water against the moist sea-soaked walls of the passage. Thankfully, the shadows here are deep and offer a measure of concealment, giving the group a good area to drop any unwanted attention.
Rowan holds the hatch steady, muscles tensed, watching Byldeth quickly slip past him and down into the hatch, moving with surprising grace for his stout frame. Byldeth presses his palm firmly to the stone below, concentrating as subtle vibrations echo through the ground. He senses only the faintest distant tremors—no immediate threat below, but perhaps the distant movement of people outside in nearby streets, likely approaching the warehouse's main entrance. For now, the path beneath appears safe.
The canvas overhead shifts slightly in the draft. Time is short—the distant voices grow louder, accented by occasional coarse laughter and muffled footsteps. From the front entrance, the sounds of people beginning to gather can be heard clearly now, oblivious of the party slipping quietly away from the imminent trouble.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
"We are safe." Byldeth tells the others, after making sure there were no immediate threats on the path they were walking. "Is anyone in need of healing?"
Ellanise follows the others to the hatch, not wanting to split up again. That was almost a disaster. Her mind is still reeling as she tries to fit all of the pieces together. "I wish we could bring him along," he says out loud to herself. Then, thinking again about what she just said, she leans into the hatch and asks in a loud whisper. "Byldeth, do you think you could carry the smaller guard if we knock him out?" She looks at the others. "I'd like to ask him some more questions."
Teryn raises an eyebrow at Ellanise's question, unable to resist a light chuckle. "Taking a hostage? Hm, I suppose it would save us the trouble of him telling the others about our little discussion...I am not opposed, but then again I won't be the one carrying him."
As Teryn spoke with the guard, Käinen silently and almost jovial worked into tying the sleeping brute legs with his chain. Only to be greeted by the sound of approaching clients. With a sigh he started undoing his work.
“We can always remember him that if anyone hear about us, Veyla will know what he said. But if it’s about carrying him…” He raised the newly freed chain. “Leave it to me. It will be super easy. Barely an inconvenience.” Though he had little more strength than average he was exceptionally prone to enduring weight. An inclination of his large build, the Wardens would say. The larger bones did seem better at distributing cargo. “You resist and, well, we can just beat up to death.”
There was a levity on his voice and not by coincidence – the threat was so empty it didn’t stay for long on his mind. Words are wind, his masters used to say. The goliath didn’t wait for an answer before starting an attempt to tie the human. Despite not asking he wouldn’t be opposed to any help Part of him could not help but lament the fact that they didn’t have time to look around the place better. Stealing from smugglers wouldn’t weigh on his mind.
Rowan stands at the hatch, fingers tapping absently against his makeshift belt—an anxious habit he’s never quite shaken. At the first mention of dragging the guard along, he shakes his head adamantly, voice pitched low yet urgent. “No sense haulin’ a grown man through a rabbit hole, folks. That’ll slow us down quicker than a broke plow in a muddy field. And I promised we’d keep things quiet—kidnappin’ a man isn’t exactly hush-hush.” He glances over to Käinen, raising a brow. “I mean, look at you, big guy. You might squeeze through, but heftin’ that dead weight? He’ll squeal the whole way. I just don’t see the harvest in it.” With a quick, restless glance toward the warehouse door, Rowan adds, “Let’s leave him here and hope he’d rather keep his mouth shut than explain this mess to his boss. Not to mention his companion, who would have to admit that he fell asleep on the job, too.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Byldeth hums, smiling as he flexed his muscles, "Of course! I am the muscle, after all. hehe." He comments, scratching his beard. "But . . . i don't think if i'm okay with this. This counts as kidnapping, right? . . ." The Dwarf asks, suddenly feeling a bit guilty.
"Oh- thank you, my friend." He chuckles, feeling relieved at Rowan's response. "I also feel that we shoudn't risk our souls with such petty sins."
He reached deeper into the tunnel, keeping a hand on the walls so he can keep checking if there are dangers nearby. "Either way, we should just get out of here. Hopefully this tunnel leads outside . . . or deeper into their hideout?"
“We can just gag him, tie him with the chain and pull him until the exit. Just like in a rescue.” His eyes suddenly turn in a thousand miles stares as he remembers his training. Running mountains up and down carrying someone on the back, hours pulling people up the monastery wall with nothing but rope. He could almost feel the muscles burning and the arms trembling. To him the worst wounds were always on the hands. “If he moves too much or we get caught we just beat him up.”
Käinen thought Byldeth’s worry was naïve at best. They were risking their lives and that was reason enough to kill, let alone do anything else. At least he’s not eager to disregard his rules for a greater good. His masters had taught him that doing so was an easy way to commit atrocities. To turn violence into the answer for even minor inconveniences. Only tyranny and fanaticism come from that, they would say time and again. You’re a good man, dwarf. He said with the voice of his mind. Maybe too good for the life of a mercenary.
“Either way, decide now and move.” Unless they wanted to pretend thee was no one there, waiting for the clients to go away, they needed to leave.
Teryn gives a shrug, not feeling too strongly one way or another about bringing the guard along. He shifts aside to let Byldeth lead the way through the passage with his Tremorsense, following cautiously. The last thing they need is to wait around too long and get caught after all this.
Ellanise frowns, pushes her hair back behind her pointed ears, then gives a minute shake of the head. "You're right," she says finally. Her lips arch into a slight smile — a smile of self-reflection and remembrance. "We've probably learned all we can from him." She looks at the guard, even lifting a finger and jab in his direction. "Don't forget that we had the chance and chose to leave you behind." With that, she hops through the trap door, ready to escape.
The moment the last of you slips through the hatch, the sounds of the warehouse above become muffled—voices fading into the distance as you descend into the damp, shadowy passage below. The tunnel is narrow but surprisingly well-maintained, the walls reinforced with aged wooden beams, their surfaces worn smooth by years of quiet use. A faint scent of damp earth and saltwater lingers in the air, mingling with the stale aroma of bodies having passed through here countless times before.
Byldeth takes the lead, his dwarven senses attuned to the very stone beneath his boots. The rough-hewn floor gives way to packed dirt, and as his fingers briefly touch the wall, he lets his Tremorsense ripple outward. The vibrations of the tunnel’s structure hum in his bones—empty stretches ahead, but the faintest, rhythmic shift of weight… movement.
There are two figures roughly 40 feet ahead, moving away from you, their footfalls uneven as if they are carrying something heavy. Perhaps workers making a routine delivery or hauling a recent acquisition. They don’t seem to have noticed your group yet. Further out, at the very edge of his range, a third presence—fainter, standing still. Possibly a sentry. Their stillness suggests they are keeping watch or waiting for something.
The passage itself extends deeper into darkness, curving slightly to the right. There are lanterns mounted along the walls at intermittent intervals, but only a few flicker dimly. A low ceiling pipe drips occasionally, the sound amplified in the hush. A few crates and barrels are stacked along the sides of the tunnel, likely meant for storage rather than passage.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
Rowan trudges along, every step muffled against the packed dirt floor. The dim lantern light is enough for him to see by—no sense drawing out the moon-touched scimitar and making himself a beacon for whoever might be lurking ahead. Instead, he slides a normal shortsword free of its sheath, keeping it low and angled, ready to ward off trouble. Glancing back at the hatch for the briefest moment, he releases a soft sigh—it already feels like the dust has settled on that mess behind them.
Deep in his chest, though, there’s a subtle hum of power—an echo of the giant magic that first sparked inside him when he put on that rune-etched belt. He can’t quite explain it, but every now and then, a pulse runs through his veins, hinting at a strength greater than his frame suggests. For now, he keeps it in check. No need to blow the doors off this cramped tunnel if he can avoid it. Still, there’s a quiet promise lurking under his skin: Should the darkness here turn hostile, Rowan’s newfound, half-forgotten legacy is ready to erupt.
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant - Runewarren || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute || Arista - Frost Sorcerer - Old Keep || Zephirah - Demonic Bard - Sands || Merry - Gifted Surgeon - Short || Marasatra - Blood Mage - Avernus || Lan - Dwarf Dragon - Wuxian ||
Teryn’s steps falter for the briefest moment as a sensation washes over him—a ripple of energy, subtle but undeniable, threading through his veins like starlight woven into shadow. A faint whisper, not words but intent, dances at the edge of his thoughts, brushing against his consciousness like leaves stirring in an unseen breeze. Approval.
His patron is watching. And pleased.
A slow smile curves his lips as he steadies his stride, allowing the power to settle within him. The whispers fade, leaving behind a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Mindlessly walking in the middle of the pack, Ellanise once again replays what the guard had told them. The Duskrats were definitely involved in the heist. And under the instruction of someone named Veyla. From the Guilded Iris. Does she dare try to contact Mariel again to ask her? Who else might know where it is located? The guard said something about nobles going there. But more than knowing where it's located, you have to have an invitation or a name to get in, he had said. What, exactly, does that mean?
"Do any of you know any nobles in the city?" she whispers.
Teryn’s silver eyes flick toward Ellanise at her whispered question, a thoughtful hum escaping his lips. “I know of a noble who could help—Lord Saelric Vareth. A wizard of some repute, well-connected, and certainly the type to be familiar with exclusive establishments like the Gilded Iris.” His tone is measured, though there’s a distinct undercurrent of reluctance as he adds, “However, we are not exactly on friendly terms.”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Vareth enjoys power games, favors that demand repayment, and reminding others of their place. If we seek his help, expect him to extract a price—subtle or otherwise.” His gaze sharpens slightly, lips curving in a faint smirk. “Still, if we’re desperate, I can think of ways to...persuade him.”
Byldeth raised his hands upon sensing more people ahead, signalizing the party to stop. "Two people, approximately 40 feet ahead. They seem to be carrying something heavy. There is also some kind of guard . . . A sentry, he is watching. I am not good with stealth, so i don't think i will be able to pass unnoticed. Anyone has a good idea?" The dwarf speaks, turning his head to the group. "Maybe we can create some kind of distraction?"
"Also, i don't know much nobles in the city . . . truth be told, i just arrived here. So i don't know almost anything." He confessed, "Sorry."