Nestled in a quiet bend of a narrow sun washed street in the Old Town Quarter of Shahr al-Layali lies the home of Salma Al-Hakim. Which stands like a memory made of sandstone and sunlight. It is a traditional Riad styled home, made around an open aired courtyard and built decades ago by her late husband. Its outer wall smooth and ochre colored, bearing the patina of time. The facade is modest but proud with an arched wooden door painted turquoise, now weathered at the edges. Above it is a mashrabiya styled lattice window with its carved cedar slats once vibrant now weathered.
The street smells of dust, jasmine, and distant spices.
Each of you arrive at this dwelling following the address on the letter. Perhaps you thought you alone would answer a mother's plea but that is not so. All of you find the turquoise door already ajar when you arrive.
Please introduce your characters and what do you do? Knock? Enter?
A weathered man in his early forties, Samir stands tall and lean, his frame wiry beneath layered desert robes the color of sand and bone. A thin funerary veil of gauze hangs over his face, softening the edges of sun-darkened skin and a long, narrow jawline marked by years spent beneath an open sky. His eyes, amber brown ringed faintly with green, are sunken but clear, sharp with watchfulness. His hair is tightly braided in rows, pulled back neatly and streaked subtly with silver near the temples. One of his hands, dark and calloused, is missing the middle finger on the left. Faint lines of salt and dust cling to the hem of his robe and the edges of worn chainmail beneath.
He stands before opened door, resting his hand on the weathered wood's handle, pausing and taking a deep breath before pushing the door further open. He gazes through the threshold, "Madam, you have requested my presence." His voice steady, stoic and deliberate. He waits outside the door for a response.
Salty sat on a large rock overlooking the sea. His eyes were closed, short blue hair (a bit disheveled on a good day) blew wildly in the wind. Elongated lower K-9s and a slight underbite gave the orc a somewhat intimidating resting face, but he was really quite friendly. At present, strong, calloused hands held a rolled up letter with surprising gentleness. Here, with the blue sea before him he was at peace. The endless crashing of the waves were like a lullaby, calming his often intense emotions, helping him to find focus. In these quiet moments, he most clearly heard the call of Valkur, whispering to him of the power of the sea.
His path lay clearly before him; the letter, a veritable treasure map. If he could bring glory in Valkur's name and give aid to someone in need then there was nothing further to consider. With a deep breath and a sigh, Salty rose, read the letter one more time, and begin walking to the home of Salam Al-Hakim.
His shield was strapped to his pack, javelins poked out in a tight bundle, neatly tied together with a leather strap. His armor was polished, the shining chain links making a soft clinking sound beneath his cloak, while a long sword bounced against his hip with each purposeful stride. The beautiful coral design of his blade's crossguard and his hair, dyed the color of the summer sea, marked his connection to the ocean. A holy symbol bearing three lightening bolts displayed for the world to see this holy warrior's allegiance to Valkur, a minor diety of the sea.
Salty paused when he reached the home. His eyebrow raises in alarm when he sees the door ajar. He stepped towards the brightly painted turquoise door, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of his sword.
Knocking firmly he calls out, "Mrs. Al-Hakim, my name is Salty. I come to answer your call for help. You ok in there?"
***OoC: perception: 21***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
A moment passes and there is no answer though there are more companions arriving behind Samir. Through the doorway you can see a courtyard with a small fountain at the heart of it, now dry. Within its basin are a few rose petals that no longer drift in water, only rest. It is a hushed cool sanctuary only made possible by thick walls and wise architecture. A low bench runs the length of the far wall with its neatly place embroidered sun faded cushions. Nearby are terra-cotta pots with leaning palm fronds and Damascus pink roses. Beyond the courtyard you see arched doorways draped with sheer curtains.
Two voices call out, none answer in reply. Turning to the robed man, and noticing the tell tale glint of his mail, Salty says, "You too, huh?" He pulls the letter out of his pouch, not opening it, but showing it to the other man. "Salty, they call me," he says. "I don't much like the looks of an open door. Maybe we oughta see what's what." Barring an objection, Salty pushes the door all the way open, takes a few steps in and calls out loudly, "Is anybody home?"
***OoC: perception 23 'natty 20' ***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
About that time, a large Goliath of a man comes walking into view, lumbering up to the door. He bends his tattooed, shaven head down and looks inside, not saying a word for a moment. “Hello? Al-Hakim? Anyone here?” He examines the ground and looks quickly at the door for any sign of forced entry. He stoops his head and squeezes into the doorway, entering the house, stretching once he gets inside. He is dressed simply, with a well worn tunic and brown belt, a couple of straps across his chest where a number of daggers are stored. He has a scimitar at his side and a spear strapped to his pack, he adjusts this for comfort as he comes in. Around his neck is a simple wooden necklace, with pieces of wood carved with intricate patterns. Some of these patterns are echoed on the tattoos on his head, his chest, arms and legs. Concentric circles, crescent moons, diamonds and sickles are arrayed in a dizzying pattern over his body. Symbols and cycles of the moon play out on his hands, his fingers, moving in rhythm when he grips his hands. "Hmm" comes out as he takes in the courtyard and the people starting to gather.
He turns and gives a smile to the orc who just walked in, saying in a deep voice in orcish, "Hello, ah, are you here to seek out Ms. Al-Hakim too?" Krakan pulls out the letter in his hand, looking it over, and looks up at everyone.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Aye," he replies, looking up to see the face of the giant fellow who just arrived. "We just got here to find the door open, thought there may be trouble."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Lucan watch from a distance anticipating others would answer similar calls for help. He notices that there doesn't seem like anyone is answering the door. Ok, time to go see what's going on. I don't like how this has gone down. I find an answer in the end he finishes his thought.
Lucan makes his way over to the door noting the others near the door he greets the other's as they try to gain entrance timing his approach gauge how the house is entered Not wanting to startle anyone, he announces himself well in advance, "Hello. I am Lucan. I have come in response to a request. Is no one at home? The door is open it seems. More foul play likely?"
Lucan offers a hand to shake. "I'll take a look around here for clues really quick." Lucan checks the area for wood splinters from someone forcing their way in or tracks nearby that might not match those who have shown up to help with the mystery.
With a Nat 20 Salty briefly heard something closing from beyond the archway with sheer curtains. It sounded wooden.
Lucan looks to the door and the road nearby and cannot definitively determine if the door was forced open or if there are other footprints besides the people present.
Lucan checks in with the others saying softly knowing something isn't right about the place he can just feel it, "Nothing looks amiss on the door, and I didn't notice anything odd about the tracks either. Anyone spot anything in here? Let's check the place out."
Lucan gives the others time to finish their checks and will look over the place for spots to hide in a pinch, any other exits and if there are notable stairs up or down or window exits not noticed from the outside.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
You can see that a portion of the home is 2 stories tall which would indicate stairs somewhere deeper in the home. You do not see any stairs heading down.
From where you stand, finding a place to hide or other exits would be hard as you have only seen a small portion of the home. There are windows facing the courtyard on both floors, but most are closed with shutters.
Samir, sensing something is amiss, begins casting a spell: Detect Evil and Good.
He lifts two fingers to his brow, tracing a slow, deliberate circle across his forehead and down to his heart.
His voice is low, reverent: "May the veil be lifted. By the light of the righteous flame, let truth be made plain."
A faint shimmer washes across his eyes, like a ripple over still water. As the final word leaves his lips, the air around him grows taut, charged with unseen judgment. For a moment, the world is awash in subtle hues only he can perceive.
Samir enters in behind Salty and the others, keeping his eyes watching around the room. Perception=11
Krakan walks in that direction, toward the northeast, trying to make out what he is hearing, sniffing as well. “Anybody.. home? Where is that coming from?" He turns a puzzled looking face to the others assembled, saying, "Do you hear anything? Sounds like it is from in there..." He follows along and enters as well, bending down when needed.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Tilting his head to the side like a dog hearing a strange sound, Salty picked up a faint sound to the north. "Something moved to the north, didn't hear much. Maybe a closing door? Well, it they ain't answering then they must be up to no good!" Hand still resting on the hilt of his sword, the orc puts his focus on the door to the north and begins to walk that way, following the faint sound he heard.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Samir new sight does not reveal anything new to him. He does not detect any of the creature types such an ability would tell him if they were nearby.
Salty and Kraken inch their way forward across the courtyard stirring up pink rose petals with each step. The smell is reminiscent to the faint scent of rosewater on the letter. Both of you look beyond the sheer curtained archway to indeed find a wooden door to the east area of the home. It is currently closed. One of you may try the handle and it is unlocked.
As Samir looks around, it is evident that the plants are in need of a good watering which would explain the profuse rose petals that have fallen. Beyond that he does not notice anything of note.
Salty heads the words of Samir, the man seemed cautious and pragmatic. The orc, occasionally prone to getting "worked up" thought it a good idea to proceed with caution.
He waits for Samir to inspect the door, listening carefully for any other sounds coming from within the home. When all seems clear he offers to open the door, or simply follows Samir in should he open it up.
***OoC: perception If needed 16***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Nestled in a quiet bend of a narrow sun washed street in the Old Town Quarter of Shahr al-Layali lies the home of Salma Al-Hakim. Which stands like a memory made of sandstone and sunlight. It is a traditional Riad styled home, made around an open aired courtyard and built decades ago by her late husband. Its outer wall smooth and ochre colored, bearing the patina of time. The facade is modest but proud with an arched wooden door painted turquoise, now weathered at the edges. Above it is a mashrabiya styled lattice window with its carved cedar slats once vibrant now weathered.
The street smells of dust, jasmine, and distant spices.
Each of you arrive at this dwelling following the address on the letter. Perhaps you thought you alone would answer a mother's plea but that is not so. All of you find the turquoise door already ajar when you arrive.
Please introduce your characters and what do you do? Knock? Enter?
A weathered man in his early forties, Samir stands tall and lean, his frame wiry beneath layered desert robes the color of sand and bone. A thin funerary veil of gauze hangs over his face, softening the edges of sun-darkened skin and a long, narrow jawline marked by years spent beneath an open sky. His eyes, amber brown ringed faintly with green, are sunken but clear, sharp with watchfulness. His hair is tightly braided in rows, pulled back neatly and streaked subtly with silver near the temples. One of his hands, dark and calloused, is missing the middle finger on the left. Faint lines of salt and dust cling to the hem of his robe and the edges of worn chainmail beneath.
He stands before opened door, resting his hand on the weathered wood's handle, pausing and taking a deep breath before pushing the door further open. He gazes through the threshold, "Madam, you have requested my presence." His voice steady, stoic and deliberate. He waits outside the door for a response.
Salty
Salty sat on a large rock overlooking the sea. His eyes were closed, short blue hair (a bit disheveled on a good day) blew wildly in the wind. Elongated lower K-9s and a slight underbite gave the orc a somewhat intimidating resting face, but he was really quite friendly. At present, strong, calloused hands held a rolled up letter with surprising gentleness. Here, with the blue sea before him he was at peace. The endless crashing of the waves were like a lullaby, calming his often intense emotions, helping him to find focus. In these quiet moments, he most clearly heard the call of Valkur, whispering to him of the power of the sea.
His path lay clearly before him; the letter, a veritable treasure map. If he could bring glory in Valkur's name and give aid to someone in need then there was nothing further to consider. With a deep breath and a sigh, Salty rose, read the letter one more time, and begin walking to the home of Salam Al-Hakim.
His shield was strapped to his pack, javelins poked out in a tight bundle, neatly tied together with a leather strap. His armor was polished, the shining chain links making a soft clinking sound beneath his cloak, while a long sword bounced against his hip with each purposeful stride. The beautiful coral design of his blade's crossguard and his hair, dyed the color of the summer sea, marked his connection to the ocean. A holy symbol bearing three lightening bolts displayed for the world to see this holy warrior's allegiance to Valkur, a minor diety of the sea.
Salty paused when he reached the home. His eyebrow raises in alarm when he sees the door ajar. He stepped towards the brightly painted turquoise door, his hand moving instinctively to the hilt of his sword.
Knocking firmly he calls out, "Mrs. Al-Hakim, my name is Salty. I come to answer your call for help. You ok in there?"
***OoC: perception: 21***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
A moment passes and there is no answer though there are more companions arriving behind Samir. Through the doorway you can see a courtyard with a small fountain at the heart of it, now dry. Within its basin are a few rose petals that no longer drift in water, only rest. It is a hushed cool sanctuary only made possible by thick walls and wise architecture. A low bench runs the length of the far wall with its neatly place embroidered sun faded cushions. Nearby are terra-cotta pots with leaning palm fronds and Damascus pink roses. Beyond the courtyard you see arched doorways draped with sheer curtains.
Salty
Two voices call out, none answer in reply. Turning to the robed man, and noticing the tell tale glint of his mail, Salty says, "You too, huh?" He pulls the letter out of his pouch, not opening it, but showing it to the other man. "Salty, they call me," he says. "I don't much like the looks of an open door. Maybe we oughta see what's what." Barring an objection, Salty pushes the door all the way open, takes a few steps in and calls out loudly, "Is anybody home?"
***OoC: perception 23 'natty 20' ***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Krakan Serpentfriend Vathunugate -
About that time, a large Goliath of a man comes walking into view, lumbering up to the door. He bends his tattooed, shaven head down and looks inside, not saying a word for a moment. “Hello? Al-Hakim? Anyone here?” He examines the ground and looks quickly at the door for any sign of forced entry. He stoops his head and squeezes into the doorway, entering the house, stretching once he gets inside. He is dressed simply, with a well worn tunic and brown belt, a couple of straps across his chest where a number of daggers are stored. He has a scimitar at his side and a spear strapped to his pack, he adjusts this for comfort as he comes in. Around his neck is a simple wooden necklace, with pieces of wood carved with intricate patterns. Some of these patterns are echoed on the tattoos on his head, his chest, arms and legs. Concentric circles, crescent moons, diamonds and sickles are arrayed in a dizzying pattern over his body. Symbols and cycles of the moon play out on his hands, his fingers, moving in rhythm when he grips his hands. "Hmm" comes out as he takes in the courtyard and the people starting to gather.
He turns and gives a smile to the orc who just walked in, saying in a deep voice in orcish, "Hello, ah, are you here to seek out Ms. Al-Hakim too?" Krakan pulls out the letter in his hand, looking it over, and looks up at everyone.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Salty
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lucan watch from a distance anticipating others would answer similar calls for help. He notices that there doesn't seem like anyone is answering the door. Ok, time to go see what's going on. I don't like how this has gone down. I find an answer in the end he finishes his thought.
Lucan makes his way over to the door noting the others near the door he greets the other's as they try to gain entrance timing his approach gauge how the house is entered Not wanting to startle anyone, he announces himself well in advance, "Hello. I am Lucan. I have come in response to a request. Is no one at home? The door is open it seems. More foul play likely?"
Lucan offers a hand to shake. "I'll take a look around here for clues really quick." Lucan checks the area for wood splinters from someone forcing their way in or tracks nearby that might not match those who have shown up to help with the mystery.
Lucan Investigation! 8
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
With a Nat 20 Salty briefly heard something closing from beyond the archway with sheer curtains. It sounded wooden.
Lucan looks to the door and the road nearby and cannot definitively determine if the door was forced open or if there are other footprints besides the people present.
Lucan checks in with the others saying softly knowing something isn't right about the place he can just feel it, "Nothing looks amiss on the door, and I didn't notice anything odd about the tracks either. Anyone spot anything in here? Let's check the place out."
Lucan gives the others time to finish their checks and will look over the place for spots to hide in a pinch, any other exits and if there are notable stairs up or down or window exits not noticed from the outside.
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
You can see that a portion of the home is 2 stories tall which would indicate stairs somewhere deeper in the home. You do not see any stairs heading down.
From where you stand, finding a place to hide or other exits would be hard as you have only seen a small portion of the home. There are windows facing the courtyard on both floors, but most are closed with shutters.
This is a simplified map of the home so far. The party opened the door down south. Salty heard the sound to the northeast.
Samir, sensing something is amiss, begins casting a spell: Detect Evil and Good.
He lifts two fingers to his brow, tracing a slow, deliberate circle across his forehead and down to his heart.
His voice is low, reverent:
"May the veil be lifted. By the light of the righteous flame, let truth be made plain."
A faint shimmer washes across his eyes, like a ripple over still water. As the final word leaves his lips, the air around him grows taut, charged with unseen judgment. For a moment, the world is awash in subtle hues only he can perceive.
Samir enters in behind Salty and the others, keeping his eyes watching around the room. Perception=11
Krakan walks in that direction, toward the northeast, trying to make out what he is hearing, sniffing as well. “Anybody.. home? Where is that coming from?" He turns a puzzled looking face to the others assembled, saying, "Do you hear anything? Sounds like it is from in there..." He follows along and enters as well, bending down when needed.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Salty
Tilting his head to the side like a dog hearing a strange sound, Salty picked up a faint sound to the north. "Something moved to the north, didn't hear much. Maybe a closing door? Well, it they ain't answering then they must be up to no good!" Hand still resting on the hilt of his sword, the orc puts his focus on the door to the north and begins to walk that way, following the faint sound he heard.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Samir new sight does not reveal anything new to him. He does not detect any of the creature types such an ability would tell him if they were nearby.
Salty and Kraken inch their way forward across the courtyard stirring up pink rose petals with each step. The smell is reminiscent to the faint scent of rosewater on the letter. Both of you look beyond the sheer curtained archway to indeed find a wooden door to the east area of the home. It is currently closed. One of you may try the handle and it is unlocked.
Do you open the door?
"What ever may be present here, it is of our world. Caution should still be heeded."
Samir follows behind the orc towards the source of the noise, eyes moving around the room looking for clues. investigation = 19
As Samir looks around, it is evident that the plants are in need of a good watering which would explain the profuse rose petals that have fallen. Beyond that he does not notice anything of note.
Salty
Salty heads the words of Samir, the man seemed cautious and pragmatic. The orc, occasionally prone to getting "worked up" thought it a good idea to proceed with caution.
He waits for Samir to inspect the door, listening carefully for any other sounds coming from within the home. When all seems clear he offers to open the door, or simply follows Samir in should he open it up.
***OoC: perception If needed 16***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
The door emits a squeak as it is opened inward. Salty you notice movement out of the corner of your eye behind the door.