(I saw this a while ago. Hope no one was waiting on me?)
Torgar nodded solemnly upon receiving payment for his services. The gold would be tucked into a pouch at his side while he took a few moments to inspect the blade. It was indeed of decent quality, and perhaps may come in handy for those few, rare instances when the Greataxe on his back is just too much. "Unless something else comes up before then. I'll be around." The dragonborn replied with a wave of one hand as the other slid the utility knife into a pocket before he was able to take in Thrusk.
The massive city where anyone could try their luck at making a fortune or end up in ruins, built on top of and forgotten. Torgar wasn't quite foolhardy enough to end up the latter. He followed his whims most often, sure, but he'd trust his gut over someone else. Which is how he ended up next to the busker. His feet leading the way, without him giving much thought. The strange tune perhaps guiding him. "Take any requests?" He'd ask while holding a gold coin. Part of the payment he had just received. "If you've got change that is." Taking note of the violists intent focus on the tiefling woman.
Upon hearing the thump from the back window all caution is immediately thrown to the wind. Alvaryn breaks into a run as he sheathes his sword and attaches the net to his belt and makes for the closest exit out into the back alley as quickly as possible. “They weren’t wrong about you Mr Lux, slippery blighter.” Alvaryn chuckles to himself, relishing the sudden burst into action.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Wrex will walk down the street keeping an eye out for Lux or any other thugs that may be in the area 11. With his shield in his left hand, he moves his right hand from the hilt of his war pick to to the manacles on his belt. In the back of his mind he knows he shouldn't be here... that his brother should still be alive. If only he had listened to him... stopped being soft and letting "Lux" (as he goes by now) off with slaps on the wrists and warnings. Someone with his criminal background would have been locked up long ago if it were up to him. Now, months after Wrex's brothers death while in pursuit of Lux after his last encounter with the law in their home town... Wrex has tracked him down and is determined to bring him to justice.
Wrex will feel the Manacles on his belt and grip them tight as anger fills him. Since the death of his brother, he has devoted himself to Tyr and has wrapped his eyes in diaphanous cloth to remind himself and others of the blindness of justice.
The violist, Mikkeo, is a little taller than average for a human, fit and dark skinned. He looks like he might be of Calishite or Turami descent. His wavy, shoulder-length black hair is tied back in a pony tail. He has a smooth face that isn't lined, giving the impression he is fairly young, but there's something about his unusual, gold eyes that adds years to him. He's wearing a costume of deep purples, blues and reds embroidered with silver accents and a few pieces of glass to catch the light. Nothing ostentatious, but enough to catch the eye, even if his playing doesn't catch your ears. A little out of place, but not at all off-putting, a longsword is sheathed on his left hip in a beautifully decorated scabbard.
As Torgar steps up beside Mikkeo, he plays one last, long note and then pulls the bow away in somewhat of a flourish. He allows his eyes to leave the tiefling woman for just a second to look at the dragonborn before returning. "Requests?" he asks absent-mindedly. "Normally, yes, but, er —" Mikkeo begins walking toward the tiefling. "I'll be right back," he says over his shoulder. Mikkeo crosses to the woman to see what's caught her attention.
Alvaryn: You burst out of the back door to see a figure race around the next corner of the block, you give chase.
Wrex: as you scan the surroundings, someone slams into you from an alley at full sprint, give me a constitution saving throw
Othokent: for the sake of trying to move this along, you investigate this noise and see the chase begin. Having never seen this in the city yet, perhaps this is what you were meant to find? You roll out of a window and begin to shadow the chase.
The Tiefling woman, Mazir, is at first shocked by the sheer size and scale of Thrusk the stories she had heard of this place as a child were wondrous, a bustling metropolis of old and new built atop each other, a multicultural tapestry of buildings and people stretched out into the distance. Her clothes however were worn and tired, patches of dirt covered most of her belongings the heavy fur trim at the top of her coat matted with dirt, at her back was the only thing of any real value she owned, a large spear with an ornate blade and hilt was heavily wrapped to disguise its real worth. The buzzing at first a low drone had developed now into a full blown roar in her mind, it pulled at her senses day and night, it drew her to the western gate of Thrusk and wearily, Mazir followed.
The noise now louder as she crossed the square and reached the edge of an alley. She unconsciously raised a trembling dark hand to her head, every time she did this she was always surprised to find her horns missing, two large jagged stumps remained from where they had been taken but a few years before. Her dark ashen colored skin rippled with goosebumps,trembling again she peered into the alleyway. Her head now ablaze and struggling to stand the Tiefling supported herself on the corner of a building, blood began to trickle from her nose its metallic taste hitting her lips, it was all consuming, she stepped down into the narrow entrance waste and refuse strewn left and right she staggered forward intent on finding the source.
Perception: 16
Apologies for the late arrival, i have been at a wedding.
Othokent, the lizardfolk, understood the need to hunt, if nothing else. So, it seemed only obvious that joining in would yield breakfast and sharing of the knowings? He couldn't be certain. Thrusk was a strange place. But, he couldn't sit idle. The egg bearer would think him lazy again. And the pointy-eared one was noisy. Even hatchling had better sense. How could it hope to catch anything?
If the chase seemed to be cutting or heading through the main street, Othokent would always linger behind in whatever shadow he could find along the way. His black scales, sinuous form, and merciful dark but largely unnecessary clothing blended well into his surroundings. He was no egg bearer Thrusk, but felt confident all the same of being able to keep track. As his green-eyed eyes lock onto the turtle man however, interest in the chase takes a back seat for watching him intently.
Stealth: 21 if it can be done without losing too much ground.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Curerntly: Player In: Gimmond: Dwarf Fighter-2024 Arena(DM'd by Swiftgale) Lokk: Orc Rogue-Lost Mines of Phandelver: Shattered Obelisk(DM'd By Shieldhero)
Previously:
Player In: Xeno: Simic Hybrid Wizard/Artificer-Coliseum of Conquest: 6W-0L| Total Downs: 1 (Retired) Zalosultuvan: High-Elf "Park" Ranger - Road Trip(DM'd by leapingmountain)
DM In: Lost Mines of Phandelver (Formerly run by Ceekay77) - Completed
Not a response Torgar was expecting as he dipped the gold piece back into its pouch, watching as the violist crossed the street to the the Tiefling woman the busker was eyeing so intently before. "No need..." He uttered softly. Rather pleased he gets to keep his money and not need to make some off-handed joke about whether or not the man knew the one about the broken viol. Not that he minded the music, but he wanted info about the city. Work, lodging... anything.
But with the music now stopped, the sounds of the city more clear, it was evident Torgar had stumbled upon something unfolding in Thrusk within just a few moments of his arrival. "Hold up." He'd offer, following a few yards behind.
Mazir: as you make your way down the alley, you notice a cellar door, and as you stand before it the roaring stops and whisper pierces through your mind "Within.."
Wrex: you are knocked over by the figure who keeps running, you don't catch any details of the individuals, but not a second later Alvaryn comes sprinting by, who had been described to you earlier by the marshal.
Alvaryn: You continue to chase for another two blocks before Mr. Lux leaps down to an old sewer entrance a level below the actual street that had been opened up for construction, he disappears inside.
Mikkeo follows the tiefling into the alley. "Pardon me," he calls out. He waves his viol bow. Then, despite his ability to see well enough in the dark, in deference to preferring the light, he whistles a short melody, and the bow glows with light. "Madam?" he asks pleasantly, walking down the alley, holding his makeshift torch at shoulder height.
As he catches up to the sewer entrance that Lux just disappeared into Alvaryn follows him down, leaping down to the entrance himself. Before entering himself he takes a brief moment to light his torch before following inside muttering under his breath “Typical, why must they always chose the sewers”.
"Within" booms a vooce snappong Mazir back into consciousness, she stands teetering in the edge of an open cellar. A light catches her attention to the right "Madam?" The voice calls. how did I get here she wonders the noise the deep humming had stopped, as she looks she locks eyes with the approaching figure and telepathicly says.
"Is it you? Please help me"
(she unconsciously casts Cause Fear at the Figure)
Wrex, seeing Alvaryn chasing whoever knocked him over will quickly pull his limbs into his shell before launching his legs out behind himself, and propelling himself onto his feet. He then immediately begins chasing after the bounty hunter in the hopes of assisting him in catching his target.
Still a few yards back, Torgar would find his way into the alley behind Mikkeo. The light catching his attention, but it neither slowed his approach nor hurried it. He wasn't aware of the exchange between the two ahead, but could see the tieflings face clearly. "Is everything ok?
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Wisdom save: 11
When Mikkeo "hears" the femine voice, full of fear, inside his head, he stops. Then, the part of his brain which controls his own fear fires in response. But realization takes over, and he calms himself down almost immediately. When he hears Torgar ask if everything's okay, the dark-skinned violist looks over his shoulder at the dragonborn. Looking back at the tiefling, he says, "I'm not sure." He glances down at the open cellar. "Did I hear —" Mikkeo squints at Mazir, then takes another step toward her, his hands making his viol disappear within his costume to empty his hands. "My name is Mikkeo," he says apropos of nothing, but somehow conveying comfort. "Is everything okay?" he repeats.
Mazir: The cellar doors still beckon to you, the echoes of the voice still rebounding in your mind.
Alvaryn: The main tunnel in sewer system stretches into darkness, there is no sign of the thief, just dripping water and the stench that hangs in the air. There are three side tunnels, two on the right, one on the left. The shadows seem to resist the torch light for a small moment before relinquishing to the light. As you pause just inside the entrance, Wrex catches up to you, breathing heavily at first but quickly recovering.
Othokent: You see both pursuants drop down to the sewers, which you have investigated before though an eerie feeling never allowed you to venture past the entrance, but perhaps numbers will give an advantage against whatever dwells within.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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(I saw this a while ago. Hope no one was waiting on me?)
Torgar nodded solemnly upon receiving payment for his services. The gold would be tucked into a pouch at his side while he took a few moments to inspect the blade. It was indeed of decent quality, and perhaps may come in handy for those few, rare instances when the Greataxe on his back is just too much. "Unless something else comes up before then. I'll be around." The dragonborn replied with a wave of one hand as the other slid the utility knife into a pocket before he was able to take in Thrusk.
The massive city where anyone could try their luck at making a fortune or end up in ruins, built on top of and forgotten. Torgar wasn't quite foolhardy enough to end up the latter. He followed his whims most often, sure, but he'd trust his gut over someone else. Which is how he ended up next to the busker. His feet leading the way, without him giving much thought. The strange tune perhaps guiding him. "Take any requests?" He'd ask while holding a gold coin. Part of the payment he had just received. "If you've got change that is." Taking note of the violists intent focus on the tiefling woman.
Upon hearing the thump from the back window all caution is immediately thrown to the wind. Alvaryn breaks into a run as he sheathes his sword and attaches the net to his belt and makes for the closest exit out into the back alley as quickly as possible. “They weren’t wrong about you Mr Lux, slippery blighter.” Alvaryn chuckles to himself, relishing the sudden burst into action.
Wrex will walk down the street keeping an eye out for Lux or any other thugs that may be in the area 11. With his shield in his left hand, he moves his right hand from the hilt of his war pick to to the manacles on his belt. In the back of his mind he knows he shouldn't be here... that his brother should still be alive. If only he had listened to him... stopped being soft and letting "Lux" (as he goes by now) off with slaps on the wrists and warnings. Someone with his criminal background would have been locked up long ago if it were up to him. Now, months after Wrex's brothers death while in pursuit of Lux after his last encounter with the law in their home town... Wrex has tracked him down and is determined to bring him to justice.
Wrex will feel the Manacles on his belt and grip them tight as anger fills him. Since the death of his brother, he has devoted himself to Tyr and has wrapped his eyes in diaphanous cloth to remind himself and others of the blindness of justice.
The violist, Mikkeo, is a little taller than average for a human, fit and dark skinned. He looks like he might be of Calishite or Turami descent. His wavy, shoulder-length black hair is tied back in a pony tail. He has a smooth face that isn't lined, giving the impression he is fairly young, but there's something about his unusual, gold eyes that adds years to him. He's wearing a costume of deep purples, blues and reds embroidered with silver accents and a few pieces of glass to catch the light. Nothing ostentatious, but enough to catch the eye, even if his playing doesn't catch your ears. A little out of place, but not at all off-putting, a longsword is sheathed on his left hip in a beautifully decorated scabbard.
As Torgar steps up beside Mikkeo, he plays one last, long note and then pulls the bow away in somewhat of a flourish. He allows his eyes to leave the tiefling woman for just a second to look at the dragonborn before returning. "Requests?" he asks absent-mindedly. "Normally, yes, but, er —" Mikkeo begins walking toward the tiefling. "I'll be right back," he says over his shoulder. Mikkeo crosses to the woman to see what's caught her attention.
Perception if needed: 22
Let me get an athletics check, Alvaryn
Mr Luxs' acrobatics: 26
And this will determine what you may see, Wrex.
Just waiting for Mazir for the other group
athletics:15
Alvaryn: You burst out of the back door to see a figure race around the next corner of the block, you give chase.
Wrex: as you scan the surroundings, someone slams into you from an alley at full sprint, give me a constitution saving throw
Othokent: for the sake of trying to move this along, you investigate this noise and see the chase begin. Having never seen this in the city yet, perhaps this is what you were meant to find? You roll out of a window and begin to shadow the chase.
Alvaryn doesn’t hesitate for even a second and continues after the disappearing figure at a full sprint.
Just in case you need another athletics roll - athletics:14
"What in Tyr's name?!?" Wrex will yell as he is slammed into. 6
The Tiefling woman, Mazir, is at first shocked by the sheer size and scale of Thrusk the stories she had heard of this place as a child were wondrous, a bustling metropolis of old and new built atop each other, a multicultural tapestry of buildings and people stretched out into the distance. Her clothes however were worn and tired, patches of dirt covered most of her belongings the heavy fur trim at the top of her coat matted with dirt, at her back was the only thing of any real value she owned, a large spear with an ornate blade and hilt was heavily wrapped to disguise its real worth. The buzzing at first a low drone had developed now into a full blown roar in her mind, it pulled at her senses day and night, it drew her to the western gate of Thrusk and wearily, Mazir followed.
The noise now louder as she crossed the square and reached the edge of an alley. She unconsciously raised a trembling dark hand to her head, every time she did this she was always surprised to find her horns missing, two large jagged stumps remained from where they had been taken but a few years before. Her dark ashen colored skin rippled with goosebumps,trembling again she peered into the alleyway. Her head now ablaze and struggling to stand the Tiefling supported herself on the corner of a building, blood began to trickle from her nose its metallic taste hitting her lips, it was all consuming, she stepped down into the narrow entrance waste and refuse strewn left and right she staggered forward intent on finding the source.
Perception: 16
Apologies for the late arrival, i have been at a wedding.
Othokent, the lizardfolk, understood the need to hunt, if nothing else. So, it seemed only obvious that joining in would yield breakfast and sharing of the knowings? He couldn't be certain. Thrusk was a strange place. But, he couldn't sit idle. The egg bearer would think him lazy again. And the pointy-eared one was noisy. Even hatchling had better sense. How could it hope to catch anything?
If the chase seemed to be cutting or heading through the main street, Othokent would always linger behind in whatever shadow he could find along the way. His black scales, sinuous form, and merciful dark but largely unnecessary clothing blended well into his surroundings. He was no egg bearer Thrusk, but felt confident all the same of being able to keep track. As his green-eyed eyes lock onto the turtle man however, interest in the chase takes a back seat for watching him intently.
Stealth: 21 if it can be done without losing too much ground.
Curerntly:
Player In:
Gimmond: Dwarf Fighter-2024 Arena(DM'd by Swiftgale)
Lokk: Orc Rogue-Lost Mines of Phandelver: Shattered Obelisk(DM'd By Shieldhero)
Previously:
Player In:
Xeno: Simic Hybrid Wizard/Artificer-Coliseum of Conquest: 6W-0L| Total Downs: 1 (Retired)
Zalosultuvan: High-Elf "Park" Ranger - Road Trip(DM'd by leapingmountain)
DM In:
Lost Mines of Phandelver (Formerly run by Ceekay77) - Completed
Not a response Torgar was expecting as he dipped the gold piece back into its pouch, watching as the violist crossed the street to the the Tiefling woman the busker was eyeing so intently before. "No need..." He uttered softly. Rather pleased he gets to keep his money and not need to make some off-handed joke about whether or not the man knew the one about the broken viol. Not that he minded the music, but he wanted info about the city. Work, lodging... anything.
But with the music now stopped, the sounds of the city more clear, it was evident Torgar had stumbled upon something unfolding in Thrusk within just a few moments of his arrival. "Hold up." He'd offer, following a few yards behind.
Mazir: as you make your way down the alley, you notice a cellar door, and as you stand before it the roaring stops and whisper pierces through your mind "Within.."
Wrex: you are knocked over by the figure who keeps running, you don't catch any details of the individuals, but not a second later Alvaryn comes sprinting by, who had been described to you earlier by the marshal.
Alvaryn: You continue to chase for another two blocks before Mr. Lux leaps down to an old sewer entrance a level below the actual street that had been opened up for construction, he disappears inside.
Mikkeo follows the tiefling into the alley. "Pardon me," he calls out. He waves his viol bow. Then, despite his ability to see well enough in the dark, in deference to preferring the light, he whistles a short melody, and the bow glows with light. "Madam?" he asks pleasantly, walking down the alley, holding his makeshift torch at shoulder height.
As he catches up to the sewer entrance that Lux just disappeared into Alvaryn follows him down, leaping down to the entrance himself. Before entering himself he takes a brief moment to light his torch before following inside muttering under his breath “Typical, why must they always chose the sewers”.
"Within" booms a vooce snappong Mazir back into consciousness, she stands teetering in the edge of an open cellar. A light catches her attention to the right "Madam?" The voice calls. how did I get here she wonders the noise the deep humming had stopped, as she looks she locks eyes with the approaching figure and telepathicly says.
"Is it you? Please help me"
(she unconsciously casts Cause Fear at the Figure)
Wisdom saving throw dc 12
Wrex, seeing Alvaryn chasing whoever knocked him over will quickly pull his limbs into his shell before launching his legs out behind himself, and propelling himself onto his feet. He then immediately begins chasing after the bounty hunter in the hopes of assisting him in catching his target.
Still a few yards back, Torgar would find his way into the alley behind Mikkeo. The light catching his attention, but it neither slowed his approach nor hurried it. He wasn't aware of the exchange between the two ahead, but could see the tieflings face clearly. "Is everything ok?
Wisdom save: 11
When Mikkeo "hears" the femine voice, full of fear, inside his head, he stops. Then, the part of his brain which controls his own fear fires in response. But realization takes over, and he calms himself down almost immediately. When he hears Torgar ask if everything's okay, the dark-skinned violist looks over his shoulder at the dragonborn. Looking back at the tiefling, he says, "I'm not sure." He glances down at the open cellar. "Did I hear —" Mikkeo squints at Mazir, then takes another step toward her, his hands making his viol disappear within his costume to empty his hands. "My name is Mikkeo," he says apropos of nothing, but somehow conveying comfort. "Is everything okay?" he repeats.
Mazir: The cellar doors still beckon to you, the echoes of the voice still rebounding in your mind.
Alvaryn: The main tunnel in sewer system stretches into darkness, there is no sign of the thief, just dripping water and the stench that hangs in the air. There are three side tunnels, two on the right, one on the left. The shadows seem to resist the torch light for a small moment before relinquishing to the light. As you pause just inside the entrance, Wrex catches up to you, breathing heavily at first but quickly recovering.
Othokent: You see both pursuants drop down to the sewers, which you have investigated before though an eerie feeling never allowed you to venture past the entrance, but perhaps numbers will give an advantage against whatever dwells within.