Drawing his sword, Salty glances back over his shoulder and nods his head quietly towards the door. As the blade comes free of its sheath it makes a tell-tale muffled scraping sound. "If yer knowin' that sound, then be knowin' you'll want to step out where we can see ya." He held his position, easing only slightly out of the way to ensure the others could enter or exit as they choose.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
An elderly man steps into view behind the door. His white well-trimmed beard catches the light, emphasizing its immaculate grooming. Dressed in black Thawb robes over a crisp white shirt, he carries himself with dignity and a curved Kilij blade rest confidently into his hands. Its hilt worn from years of practice and not neglect. His presence a blend of quiet confidence and someone intimately familiar with the art of the sword.
He approaches Salty position to prevent others from entering and assumes a battle-ready stance.
Samir reaches out and places his left hand on Salty the Orc's right shoulder. "Hold!" Samir holds out his right hand, readies an action to cast a spell (Level 1 Guiding Bolt), and continues; "We may be working for the same person. Who are you? What is your purpose?"
The elderly man does not speak but gestures to the party and then to the courtyard door. He makes an angry shooing motion with his sword. Then he raises his right hand and starts counting down with his fingers 5, 4, 3 ...
Salty had a similar mind, something in this man's demeanor did not match a garden variety thief. He stayed his blade and focused on his response to Samir's question, although he remained on high alert for an attack.
***OoC: insight for the truth of his reply or general demeanor if he does not: 22***
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Salty's insight reveals that the elderly man is ready to respond like a compressed spring should the party turn violent. There is anger, no not anger more of a feeling of affronted annoyance under layers of self-discipline. He wants you to leave.
The orc reaches carefully into his pouch, removing the letter that brought him here. "If yer serving the Al-Hakim family, then this ain't fer helpin'." He shows the white bearded man the letter. Salty earned some coin in the fighting pits, he quite enjoyed a good tussle, he did not, however, care to spill blood over a misunderstanding.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Perhaps others will be coming to help them or to ransack the place. He whispers, "I'll what our backs while you deal with what's in there."
Lucan draws his bow and moves to peek out the front door in case ruffians are moving towards the house to ransack it or take out those looking for clues. He'll use cracks in the door if any or approach from the side to peek out on one side to see if there is any movement in the courtyard.
The elderly man levers his blade ready to sever Salty's hand as he reached for his pouch but then pauses perhaps piqued by curiosity. The steely glint in the man's hazel eyes soften by a fraction upon seeing the letter. His posture relaxes in degrees as he takes the letter and reads it. Letter in hand he clasps it to his heart and then gestures to the sky above. He mouths a short Du'a (prayer) though he does not speak it. Those looking closely can make out, May the winds carry your soul to the garden of returning.
He then sheathes his kilij sword and lets out a heavy sigh. In a respectful manner he gestures for the party to take a seat in the courtyard and to wait.
Looking out of the front door Lucan sees a woman perhaps in her late 50's. She is standing tall though slightly bent, not with age but something unbearable. She is wearing a black abaya (clothes of mourning) her hair is still black as the ravens with a few silver streaks. Her face is strong, sun lined, and striking. A woman that commanded respect wherever she went. She walks towards the house with measured steps.
Krakan goes with urging to the courtyard, agreeable (for now) to follow instructions. He takes off his sandals and sits with legs criss crossed, falling almost into a trance like state. He holds his forearms on his knees, starts humming in a drone softly, closing his eyes, but opening them periodically to see if the woman comes in from the outside.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Samir sees the man mouth the saying and says out lout to him, "And may the Gate stand open when your time comes.” Samir bows his head slightly and respectfully.
He then turns and makes his way to the courtyard and stands in the shade of the corner. He waits.
Salty sheathed his sword. He offered the man a nod, it would seem that cool heads prevailed. He glances down to the hilt of his own magnificent sword, forged to fit his hand not so long ago. The very first signs of wear were beginning to show. The white bearded man must have had that sword in his hand for thousands of hours to appear as it did... Salty was willing to go toe to toe, blades or bare knuckles, with anyone in fair sport or contest. He wondered how he would fare against the quiet man. He wondered if he had just met a man who could cut through the lot of them like a child with paper dolls. His hand instinctively reached to his holy symbol, the storm gray shell adorned with three lightening bolts that always hung around his neck.
He quietly followed the others into the courtyard, lost for the moment in thought.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lucan at the door proceeds out with any of the others now that the urgency inside has been addressed.
Lucan dressed in black traveler's clothes bows to the lady, "I beg your pardon, we were summoned by a letter of great sorrow. Is the summons from you? If so, we are here to help."
Lucan leaves it at that as he is hopeful that she is the lady of the house. Lucan is not a man of many words, and his emotions fight inside him for a cowardly act such as this. He will pace in circles nearby watching at all levels from ground to sky. He will remain alert and pausing to respond to any reply by the lady.
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;
Salma Al-Hakim's voice is low, steady, textured. Like the sound of wind brushing against old stone. There is no trembling in her tone even in grief but beneath its control is a rawness as though each word must past through the ache in her chest before reaching her lips. Her eyes are the shade of green seen in the first blade of grass in spring. Now they are rimmed red and hallowed by sleepless nights "Finally, someone has answered my letter. I thank the one above for this blessing. Come inside we have much to discuss"says Salma Al-Hakim. She enters her home and sees the others. Her expression is not of surprise but determination as her lips form a firm line "Who are you people and how did you enter my home?"
"Yer door was open, me lady. We came seperate, but fer the same reason; yer letter called us here. We come to give aid, and to find the truth of yer boy," he says to the dark haired woman.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Then I thank each of you for coming" her eyes linger on Kraken "I thought you a master of his order would be older. You are the master of the monastery, right?"
Salty
Drawing his sword, Salty glances back over his shoulder and nods his head quietly towards the door. As the blade comes free of its sheath it makes a tell-tale muffled scraping sound. "If yer knowin' that sound, then be knowin' you'll want to step out where we can see ya." He held his position, easing only slightly out of the way to ensure the others could enter or exit as they choose.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Side Initiative
The party: 19
The opponent: 19
Once more for Side Initiative
The Party: 12
The Opponent: 16
The Opponent goes first.
An elderly man steps into view behind the door. His white well-trimmed beard catches the light, emphasizing its immaculate grooming. Dressed in black Thawb robes over a crisp white shirt, he carries himself with dignity and a curved Kilij blade rest confidently into his hands. Its hilt worn from years of practice and not neglect. His presence a blend of quiet confidence and someone intimately familiar with the art of the sword.
He approaches Salty position to prevent others from entering and assumes a battle-ready stance.
End of Turn.
The party is up. Post in any order when you are able.
Samir reaches out and places his left hand on Salty the Orc's right shoulder. "Hold!" Samir holds out his right hand, readies an action to cast a spell (Level 1 Guiding Bolt), and continues; "We may be working for the same person. Who are you? What is your purpose?"
The elderly man does not speak but gestures to the party and then to the courtyard door. He makes an angry shooing motion with his sword. Then he raises his right hand and starts counting down with his fingers 5, 4, 3 ...
Salty
Salty had a similar mind, something in this man's demeanor did not match a garden variety thief. He stayed his blade and focused on his response to Samir's question, although he remained on high alert for an attack.
***OoC: insight for the truth of his reply or general demeanor if he does not: 22***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Salty's insight reveals that the elderly man is ready to respond like a compressed spring should the party turn violent. There is anger, no not anger more of a feeling of affronted annoyance under layers of self-discipline. He wants you to leave.
Salty
The orc reaches carefully into his pouch, removing the letter that brought him here. "If yer serving the Al-Hakim family, then this ain't fer helpin'." He shows the white bearded man the letter. Salty earned some coin in the fighting pits, he quite enjoyed a good tussle, he did not, however, care to spill blood over a misunderstanding.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Perhaps others will be coming to help them or to ransack the place. He whispers, "I'll what our backs while you deal with what's in there."
Lucan draws his bow and moves to peek out the front door in case ruffians are moving towards the house to ransack it or take out those looking for clues. He'll use cracks in the door if any or approach from the side to peek out on one side to see if there is any movement in the courtyard.
Lucan Perception: 5
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
The elderly man levers his blade ready to sever Salty's hand as he reached for his pouch but then pauses perhaps piqued by curiosity. The steely glint in the man's hazel eyes soften by a fraction upon seeing the letter. His posture relaxes in degrees as he takes the letter and reads it. Letter in hand he clasps it to his heart and then gestures to the sky above. He mouths a short Du'a (prayer) though he does not speak it. Those looking closely can make out, May the winds carry your soul to the garden of returning.
He then sheathes his kilij sword and lets out a heavy sigh. In a respectful manner he gestures for the party to take a seat in the courtyard and to wait.
Looking out of the front door Lucan sees a woman perhaps in her late 50's. She is standing tall though slightly bent, not with age but something unbearable. She is wearing a black abaya (clothes of mourning) her hair is still black as the ravens with a few silver streaks. Her face is strong, sun lined, and striking. A woman that commanded respect wherever she went. She walks towards the house with measured steps.
Krakan goes with urging to the courtyard, agreeable (for now) to follow instructions. He takes off his sandals and sits with legs criss crossed, falling almost into a trance like state. He holds his forearms on his knees, starts humming in a drone softly, closing his eyes, but opening them periodically to see if the woman comes in from the outside.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Samir sees the man mouth the saying and says out lout to him, "And may the Gate stand open when your time comes.” Samir bows his head slightly and respectfully.
He then turns and makes his way to the courtyard and stands in the shade of the corner. He waits.
Salty
Salty sheathed his sword. He offered the man a nod, it would seem that cool heads prevailed. He glances down to the hilt of his own magnificent sword, forged to fit his hand not so long ago. The very first signs of wear were beginning to show. The white bearded man must have had that sword in his hand for thousands of hours to appear as it did... Salty was willing to go toe to toe, blades or bare knuckles, with anyone in fair sport or contest. He wondered how he would fare against the quiet man. He wondered if he had just met a man who could cut through the lot of them like a child with paper dolls. His hand instinctively reached to his holy symbol, the storm gray shell adorned with three lightening bolts that always hung around his neck.
He quietly followed the others into the courtyard, lost for the moment in thought.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Lucan at the door proceeds out with any of the others now that the urgency inside has been addressed.
Lucan dressed in black traveler's clothes bows to the lady, "I beg your pardon, we were summoned by a letter of great sorrow. Is the summons from you? If so, we are here to help."
Lucan leaves it at that as he is hopeful that she is the lady of the house. Lucan is not a man of many words, and his emotions fight inside him for a cowardly act such as this. He will pace in circles nearby watching at all levels from ground to sky. He will remain alert and pausing to respond to any reply by the lady.
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
Salma Al-Hakim's voice is low, steady, textured. Like the sound of wind brushing against old stone. There is no trembling in her tone even in grief but beneath its control is a rawness as though each word must past through the ache in her chest before reaching her lips. Her eyes are the shade of green seen in the first blade of grass in spring. Now they are rimmed red and hallowed by sleepless nights "Finally, someone has answered my letter. I thank the one above for this blessing. Come inside we have much to discuss" says Salma Al-Hakim. She enters her home and sees the others. Her expression is not of surprise but determination as her lips form a firm line "Who are you people and how did you enter my home?"
Salty
"Yer door was open, me lady. We came seperate, but fer the same reason; yer letter called us here. We come to give aid, and to find the truth of yer boy," he says to the dark haired woman.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
"Then I thank each of you for coming" her eyes linger on Kraken "I thought you a master of his order would be older. You are the master of the monastery, right?"