Akai turns to address Falshen. "Tcheh! They go to steal glory, leave us to clean up. Where is fairness in that?" He then glances at the locked door. " Eh, might as well let'im out. Mebbe there's still something to gain. You any good with locks? "
Falshen considers the question. "If it's locked, perhaps. If it's barricaded, I suspect you - and your magical flames - will have better luck than I."
Turning to regard the door, the rogue continues addressing Akai, "If our rescuee even wants our help, that is." Calling out to the closed door, Falshen announces, "I say, you behind the door: the Zhents are gone. Do you require further aid?"
“Who is that?” the nervous voice whitters from behind the door. “I say, who is that? Hrabbaz? Yalah? Have we beaten the villains? Are the children alright?”
“All is well, my lord,” Hrabbaz calls out, striding into the bathroom and shouldering aside the rogue and the kobold to shout through the blocked door. “That gang of false caitiffs have been driven from the manor. My lady and the children are safe. Remain there until we can be sure the house is clear.”
Turning to look at the remaining party members, he gives a dismissive motion of the hand, and says quietly.
“The Watch should be here at any moment, and your presence is a complication I would rather not explain - whoever you may be. Freelancers, eh? Glory hounds? Well, take this for your trouble - and your silence.” He hands over a small black purse, compact but heavy with coin. “The authorities will be told that the Gralhund family was senselessly attacked by Zhentarim robbers - heroically driven off by their chief of security, of course. And you, and your friends, you know nothing of the matter. Am I clear?”
Accepting the purse, Falshen gives a slight, gravelly growl before offering up a sharp smile and stating clearly, "We were happy to help, though the fight downstairs makes me wish I'd worn crimson robes over my armor; better to hide all the blood." With a tightly controlled bow, the rogue takes his leave.
Bounding down the stairs, apparently regardless of pursuit, Floxin weaves his way through the great hall and into the pantry, where, hurling aside a basket of towels, he exposes a small door in the southeast corner of the room, which he bolts through.
Every party member who continues to pursue Floxin, please give me another Athletics and Perception check.
“Who is that?” the nervous voice whitters from behind the door. “I say, who is that? Hrabbaz? Yalah? Have we beaten the villains? Are the children alright?”
“All is well, my lord,” Hrabbaz calls out, striding into the bathroom and shouldering aside the rogue and the kobold to shout through the blocked door. “That gang of false caitiffs have been driven from the manor. My lady and the children are safe. Remain there until we can be sure the house is clear.”
Turning to look at the remaining party members, he gives a dismissive motion of the hand, and says quietly.
“The Watch should be here at any moment, and your presence is a complication I would rather not explain - whoever you may be. Freelancers, eh? Glory hounds? Well, take this for your trouble - and your silence.” He hands over a small black purse, compact but heavy with coin. “The authorities will be told that the Gralhund family was senselessly attacked by Zhentarim robbers - heroically driven off by their chief of security, of course. And you, and your friends, you know nothing of the matter. Am I clear?”
Akai narrows his eyes at the half-orc's dismissive gestures. "Krrr, risking life and limb to render a great service, while glory stolen by another..." His lip curls in indignation, and he continues in an uncharacteristically low voice, "Oh, Akai will keep his silence, but he will remember... hss, yes, Akai remember will remember this well..."
Hrabbaz recommends that Akai and Falshen depart via a small, discreet door in the back of the pantry that will lead out the south wall of the manor grounds - coincidentally the same door through which the rest of the party members pursued the absconding Floxin.
If they follow this direction, they find a badly winded Ian catching his breath in an alley, having lost both his footing and his quarry when he tripped over a corpse on his way out of the house. The paladin and the wizard are well out of eyeshot and earshot by now.
Gregor and Irma, meanwhile, dog the heels of Urstul Floxin through the back alleys of the North Ward, managing to give the Zhent just enough of a lead to keep him running, but not so much that they lose sight of him. Emerging on the busy thoroughfare of The High Road, Floxin does his best to blend in with the traffic, but cannot escape Gregor’s determined detection.
Heading south along this artery of the City, the pursuit passes through the Trades Ward and all the way down to the Southern Ward, where Floxin finally comes to a dilapidated, two-towered edifice between Blackcloak Alley and Slop Street.
The ramshackle structure is surrounded by a wall - with no apparent gate. Stepping up to the wall, Floxin holds up something in his hand. A circle of glowing sigils appears on the ground between him and the wall, and he steps into it, vanishing instantly. The circle persists after he disappears, but by the flickering of its light, it seems that it will soon fade - perhaps within seconds.
Gregor recognizes the effects of a teleportation circle - specifically, a short-range, temporary circle, not needing to be cast by a trained wizard but bound to an object, typically a ring or amulet, and linked to a permanent circle, which must be within a few hundred yards for the link to be established.
Irma his years of magical knowledge apparently useless, napping in class does not help, asks Gregor, “do we have an idea of where he could have teleported to?”
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Irma reponds in agreement to Ian and Gregor, "we'll chase him" and he continues to easily stride behind Urstul.
Falshen considers the question. "If it's locked, perhaps. If it's barricaded, I suspect you - and your magical flames - will have better luck than I."
Turning to regard the door, the rogue continues addressing Akai, "If our rescuee even wants our help, that is." Calling out to the closed door, Falshen announces, "I say, you behind the door: the Zhents are gone. Do you require further aid?"
“Who is that?” the nervous voice whitters from behind the door. “I say, who is that? Hrabbaz? Yalah? Have we beaten the villains? Are the children alright?”
“All is well, my lord,” Hrabbaz calls out, striding into the bathroom and shouldering aside the rogue and the kobold to shout through the blocked door. “That gang of false caitiffs have been driven from the manor. My lady and the children are safe. Remain there until we can be sure the house is clear.”
Turning to look at the remaining party members, he gives a dismissive motion of the hand, and says quietly.
“The Watch should be here at any moment, and your presence is a complication I would rather not explain - whoever you may be. Freelancers, eh? Glory hounds? Well, take this for your trouble - and your silence.” He hands over a small black purse, compact but heavy with coin. “The authorities will be told that the Gralhund family was senselessly attacked by Zhentarim robbers - heroically driven off by their chief of security, of course. And you, and your friends, you know nothing of the matter. Am I clear?”
Accepting the purse, Falshen gives a slight, gravelly growl before offering up a sharp smile and stating clearly, "We were happy to help, though the fight downstairs makes me wish I'd worn crimson robes over my armor; better to hide all the blood." With a tightly controlled bow, the rogue takes his leave.
Perception checks please, from Ian and Irma - either individually, or one check with Advantage.
Irma focuses his attention on Urstul Floxin.
Perception: 9
Perception: 13
The DM rolls...23
Bounding down the stairs, apparently regardless of pursuit, Floxin weaves his way through the great hall and into the pantry, where, hurling aside a basket of towels, he exposes a small door in the southeast corner of the room, which he bolts through.
Every party member who continues to pursue Floxin, please give me another Athletics and Perception check.
Gregor:
Athletics 15
Perception 20
Ian:
Athletics: 4
Perception: 14
Irma
Athletics: 22
Perception: 15
Akai narrows his eyes at the half-orc's dismissive gestures. "Krrr, risking life and limb to render a great service, while glory stolen by another..." His lip curls in indignation, and he continues in an uncharacteristically low voice, "Oh, Akai will keep his silence, but he will remember... hss, yes, Akai remember will remember this well..."
With that, he accompanies Falshen and leaves.
Hrabbaz recommends that Akai and Falshen depart via a small, discreet door in the back of the pantry that will lead out the south wall of the manor grounds - coincidentally the same door through which the rest of the party members pursued the absconding Floxin.
If they follow this direction, they find a badly winded Ian catching his breath in an alley, having lost both his footing and his quarry when he tripped over a corpse on his way out of the house. The paladin and the wizard are well out of eyeshot and earshot by now.
Gregor and Irma, meanwhile, dog the heels of Urstul Floxin through the back alleys of the North Ward, managing to give the Zhent just enough of a lead to keep him running, but not so much that they lose sight of him. Emerging on the busy thoroughfare of The High Road, Floxin does his best to blend in with the traffic, but cannot escape Gregor’s determined detection.
Heading south along this artery of the City, the pursuit passes through the Trades Ward and all the way down to the Southern Ward, where Floxin finally comes to a dilapidated, two-towered edifice between Blackcloak Alley and Slop Street.
The ramshackle structure is surrounded by a wall - with no apparent gate. Stepping up to the wall, Floxin holds up something in his hand. A circle of glowing sigils appears on the ground between him and the wall, and he steps into it, vanishing instantly. The circle persists after he disappears, but by the flickering of its light, it seems that it will soon fade - perhaps within seconds.
Gregor, Irma, what do you do?
Even Gregor's desire to tail Floxin has limits. He will do his best to memorize the sigils and determine their arcane nature.
Irma focuses all his arcane knowledge to memorize the sigils and same as Gregor, determine their nature.
Arcana: 12
Arcana check from Gregor, please.
8
Gregor recognizes the effects of a teleportation circle - specifically, a short-range, temporary circle, not needing to be cast by a trained wizard but bound to an object, typically a ring or amulet, and linked to a permanent circle, which must be within a few hundred yards for the link to be established.
Irma his years of magical knowledge apparently useless, napping in class does not help, asks Gregor, “do we have an idea of where he could have teleported to?”