Quest for the Holy Relics: A NeoGAF DnD Play by Post Campaign

Val slips into the security office and hurriedly studies it's various functions.

"You get out of here, I'm going to see if I can't clean up after ourselves. Or make things messier, actually... If you could light something important-looking on fire, that'd be really helpful."

"Let's see here..." Val mutters to himself as he searches the office. "If I were an evacuation alarm, what would I look like?"

((Also, while I doubt it exists, maybe look for an off switch for that damn arch.))
 
KittenMaster said:
Sarm quickly springs up himself, tapping Tarkus' shoulder without looking at him, "Something has happened.. I see armed guards walking in."
Click to expand...
Tarkus is busy boxing with an imaginary brick opponent when he feels Sarm's tap on the shoulder. Looking to the tower he sees halflings queued up outside, the lone remaining Rhino-Guard armed and on alert. He opens his mouth to exclaim but closes it prematurely, wanting to remain unsuspicious but fearing the worst for their companions. "Guard completely block door...something very wrong." His hand moves to grip the greataxe on his back reflexively...
 
The zombie-rhino responds with a chilling, soulless, monotone voice. "The alarm is controlled by the central security office on the 50th floor; it cannot be accessed from here. The only exits from the tower are the eight doorways on the ground floor, and the portal to the Lady of Pain's pocket dimension, where prisoners are kept. There is a damping field throughout the tower that prevents teleportation."

------

Val spots a desk replete with drawers, facing the wall of mirrors. Flat atop the desk is another one of those magical touch screens, and the similarities are great enough that Val is able to deftly navigate the controls.

He quickly deduces that his ability to control anything here is severely limited. The vast majority of available "functions" come in the form of sending recommendations and requests to the main security office on the 50th floor; the only thing he can really manipulate from here is the display on the mirrors.

There is also a comm device on the desk, however, and it would be a trivial matter to send a call through to the main office...

------

"Lord Sarm," says Suvne, "Perhaps we could perform a Sending to communicate with Lords Valgar and Quintus? Either find out what's happening inside, or if they don't know, tell them about the movements of the guards out here?" She sees Tarkus grip his weapon, and without thinking she draws her own blade, synchronizing her movements with Tarkus's, prepared to charge alongside him if need be.
 
((EDIT: Okay, I'll have to remake my post..

EDIT 2: I never prepared Sending and I metagame too much as it is, so we're kind of screwed there.))
 
Val comes up empty for a direct means of accomplishing his aims in the security office. He does have one idea though...

"Our only hope of salvaging this is to cause so much havoc that the route change gets overlooked. They'll spend so much time wondering what we were after, they'll hopefully miss that we already go it.

"Quintus, I'm about to do something really, really stupid. Get ready to make some noise."

Picking up the communication stone, Val sorts through his various stage voices to select the one he finds most appropriate. After warming up his vocal cords with some quick vocal exercises, he activates the communication stone to the main security office. "Greetings, servitors of the Lady of Pain. As you have no doubt already established, we, the agents of the Lord of Analgesia have infiltrated your innermost sanctum. We have placed explosive alchemical formulations at key points of structural integrity of your precious tower, and in ten minutes it will be nothing but rubble and ashes. We are not afraid to die for our cause. Are you? Long live the Lord of Analgesia!"

His message delivered, Val quickly slips out of the security office and into the nearest unoccupied room he can find. Gods, "the Lord of Analgesia," Val? Fucking really? Oh well, tradecraft critique circle will have to come later.

"Alright, now would be an excellent time for something to blow up, if you can manage it."

EDIT:
((Bluff roll because it's probably needed.))
Code: 
Bluff Check:  1d20+29=31
((OH COME ON. Hopefully that modifier is high enough.

Incidentally, I feel almost embarrassed at how edge-of-my-seat all this is making me feel. Tense shit!))
 
"Seriously? Oh whatever."

Quintus turns to the zombie rhino and says "Hey, why don't you go slow down the other guards or something. Don't hurt them or anything though since I assume they are you friends." Once he is gone he exits the room, tosses a fireball in there(no one else is in there right?) and use a invisibility potion(assuming he has any left) and begins running down stairs.
 
((Lmao. In for a penny in for a pound huh? I have a sneaky suspicion we might have to find out whether that pocket dimension prison is truly inescapable soon...if we aren't obliterated outright!))
 
A huge explosion rocks the security office on the 30th floor (which is indeed empty), incinerating the room and causing both the floor and ceiling to collapse. This sends the entire floor into a frantic uproar. People begin screaming and fleeing toward the stairs, in a twisted mass of panicked flesh.

Luckily, Quintus has a reasonable head start on them, in his newly-invisible state. The sound of the explosion carried pretty far downward too, though, so before long Quintus finds himself awash in a mass of people, all trying to flee the building.

However, and especially in his invisible state, this makes him exceptionally difficult to find. He does see the occasional rhino-guard, but none have any clue where he is, and they have their hands full trying to get control of the crowd.

The descent takes time. Val gives Quintus the best possible description he can of where they can find each other, and it's a good thing, because as Quintus slowly makes his way there, the Telepathic Bond expires. The two heroes reunite in the empty office that Val found; outside the office is sheer chaos, just as Val was hoping for.


------

Just as the trio of thumb-twiddling heroes prepare to charge, something else happens at the door. The rhino turns around and cracks the door to peer inside, then quickly shuts it and braces himself against it. A force is clearly pressing up against it from the outside, and the rhino is able to hold the line for a few minutes, but eventually the actual door comes off of its hinges and is carried forward by an enormous mass of halflings and gnomes (the other rhino is carried along with them). They flood out into the streets and begin to disperse; after the initial overflow, the stream slows down a bit, but is still relatively steady for at least the next half hour.

Finally, the trio spots Val emerging from the doorway, none the worse for wear. At first fearing the worst for Quintus, they see him shimmer into view once he and Val have just about reached the rest of the party.
 
Jackben said:
((Lmao. In for a penny in for a pound huh? I have a sneaky suspicion we might have to find out whether that pocket dimension prison is truly inescapable soon...if we aren't obliterated outright!))
Click to expand...
((Was kinda banking in a better Bluff roll. Anything higher than 1 is still good, but I was more hoping for unquestionable success. Still, Quintus is free and invisible, so we can at least get past the arch now. Theoretically.))

EDIT: ((Oh hey, guess it worked.))

Val watches the fallout of his and Quintus' handiwork. "We should probably be away from here very post-fucking-haste. That did not go to plan."
 
((Yeah, you guys played that pretty well. I couldn't think of any reasonable way for them to actually find you, considering all the chaos in the building, plus the fact that no one knew to suspect Val, and Quintus was invisible. Then it seemed like it would be easy for you to just hop over the railing of the staircase and not even get noticed, since everyone was busy trying to escape anyway. So yeah, well done - that was fun))
 
His mental discipline beginning to crumble, Tarkus is just about to charge forth into the stream of exiting halflings when he sees Val exit and Quintus shimmer into view shortly thereafter. Having witnessed the chaos of their attempted infiltration with despair, he grunts in relief and clasps each on the shoulder before they mount their pegasi. "Good you are safe...explain what happen on return."
 
((You guys are free to basically do whatever you want in the city all the way up through the moment of truth (when the Lady of Pain is supposed to move through that street corner). I'll be right here on DM duty through the whole thing))
 
Tarkus takes a note from Suvne's book, her behavior with the pegasi having reminded him of the majesty of these creatures that bear them on the trip back. Fully armored and heavy as he is, still the pegasi he rides soars through the air, its powerful wings whisking them into the swirling red skies of Sigil. As they land and disembark he takes a moment to stroke the mane of his bearer, giving its flank an appreciative pat. "Thank you, friend."

Just as he is about to enter the temple with the others, his eyes linger a moment upon Quintus visage. He appears different, almost tired, as tired as an undead being might possibly look. His gray and decaying hand has been replaced by a bony skeletal fist that seems to radiate a familiar and unpleasant aura. "Wha-" he clasps his mouth shut before going further, deciding perhaps explanation best wait. "Need lodge outside temple or they throw us out again..." he suggests the group reconvene at the nearest quiet inn to discuss matters.

Assuming the group concedes to this and they find a quiet location, Tarkus quickly pulls together a set of tables in the nearest corner and clears the surface so the group may strategize. Unstrapping his armor, he takes a seat facing the wall, his body blocking a good portion of the others from direct view. Ordering a few ales for the group, he begins to clean the grime build-up in the joining plates of his armor while waiting for the drinks to arrive. Once the ales are served and the tavern keep departed, he speaks in a low gruff voice an invitation for Val and Quintus to debrief the others.

"How bad?"
 
Val is tight lipped as he rides astride the pegasus as they make good on their flight from the Watcher's Tower. He doubts his alteration to the Lady's route will be uncovered, but things went so catastrophically wrong that the route may yet be radically altered once this new information is incorporated into the planning. Casting sideways glances at Quintus' skeletal appendage, he wonders if perhaps the price was too high, presuming they even succeed.

Nothing to do now but wait...

--

Later, at the table in the inn, Val sighs heavily in response to Tarkus' question. "Very, very bad. We changed the course, but Quintus got caught in the process, and I may or may not have founded a terrorist organization dedicated to destroying the Lady of Pain to give us cover to get out of there. I think there was only the one casualty, and that might yet be mitigated if we retrieve the rod.

"Bottom line, we won't know if it worked until the appointed hour. If she arrives, we collect our fee. If she doesn't, well, I hope you guys know how to raise a whole lot of money very quickly."

Val chugs the remains of his beer before plonking the empty tankard on the table. "Quintus needs to stay out of sight for our duration. He was very... Visible during the altercation at the tower. The temple of Pelor would actually be ideal, but somehow I suspect we have now exceeded the capacity if their begrudging hospitality."
 
Suvne pales the moment she realizes what's happened to Quintus's hand, but rather than fear, some measure of pity is evident on her face. "Lord Quintus.... are you alright?" she asks him, her concern genuine.

The pegasus flight seems to cheer her up somewhat, but upon landing near the temple, she frowns at Tarkus's suggestion to stay away from it now. Regardless, she offers no objections and follows them into the inn.

When Val concurs with Tarkus's misgivings about returning to the temple, she finally speaks up. "Pardon, Lord Val, and Sir Tarkus, but I'm not sure I agree. Remember that Lord Amriel sought counsel from His Holiness Pelor himself, and was instructed to provide any and all help that we require. Perhaps he won't be happy to see what's happened to Lord Quintus, but I believe he will be bound to help us in any way he can." She looks at Sarm with expectant eyes, hoping that he might chime in to support her theory.
 
Draining his cup, Tarkus nods at Val's assessment and is about to order another ale when Suvne speaks up. He had forgotten the angel's words of acceptance after receiving the treaty. "Temple also last place one expect to find dead mage..." he raises his cup to Suvne and nods. "We stay hidden in temple until special day Val and Tarkus go meet Mr. Shadow."
 
Sarm, once he is able to have a chance to speak, does so with great concern, "I had seen the hand from the flight.. Amiriel had us agree to keep the Hand hidden for him to accept us, and now the most we can do is cover it."

Sarm decides to cast Detect Magic and Detect Evil both to study how noticeable the Hand of Vecna will be because Quintis has it worn.
 
The aura of the Hand of Vecna is blatantly obvious, and in fact is almost blinding, with both Detect Magic and Detect Evil active. The only way to hide it would be either with Invisibility or with an item specifically designed to mask magical auras, and even then it's doubtful that it would be entirely hidden.

More troubling is that Detect Evil seems to pick up something in Quintus - not that he himself is evil, exactly; it's more like there is some sort of corruption inside, polluting his soul. It's very slight, but it is unmistakably there.
 
Sarm informs the others after noticeably being pained by the sudden blast of magical aura he just sensed, "The Hand is too powerful to not be noticed..." Soon his voice becomes uncontrollably worrying and distressed, "But... Even worse.. It's eating at Quintis.. Like a spiritual disease.."
 
"Holy... alright everybody just calm down. I'm fine and I pretty much knew this could happen when I first put it on. On the plus side this means no more creepy old wizards stealing it and using it on other people. Anyways, a glove will cover it no problem and as far as its power being noticeable... I suspect around Sigil its not completely out of place, especially when you consider how many other powerful artifacts we're carrying around... or were before they got stolen."
 
Sarm points out, "It also means we may no longer be welcome in the Temple of Pelor, as we had to agree to keep the Hand hidden while we resided there, which I fear is no longer possible with its aura being so strong."
 
"The aura wasn't exactly weak before. I'll just put on the gloves I bought for this exact situation and they probably won't even notice much of a difference. And if they do we just find somewhere else to lay low. I'm sure Val could eventually find something with his unique skill set."
 
With the matter settled for the time being, after enjoying a drink and a reasonable meal, the party returns to the Temple to see what happens.

It's much as Quintus theorized: with the skeletal hand covered by a glove, none of the clergy notice anything is amiss.

"Welcome back. It's good to see everyone has returned safely from your mission," says Amriel. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask.

"Oh, and tomorrow is our weekly service; the pews will likely be filled to capacity with our congregation. You are welcome to attend if you'd like - and Sarm, if you would like to speak to our congregation as a Chosen One of Pelor, it would be our honor to have you - but none of you ought to feel obligated. Just don't be surprised if you hear a commotion down here in the morning."
 
Sarm does find it odd that the evil presence is not enough to alert the clergy men, but regardless he responds to the offer, "Yes, it has been awhile since I have been able to attend a proper worship. I prefer not to hold myself to such high standards, but perhaps I could speak as a guest from the Material Plane."

((My avatar makes roleplaying so awkward.))
 
Val remains silent until the Pelor devoted angel finishes his chat with Sarm and departs the company of the heroes, unable to hide a disbelieving expresion on his face.

"I can't believe that actually worked... You'd think they'd be more, I don't know, attuned to the embodiment of evil lurking in their midst. Do you suppose Vecna can just... dial it down at will or something? Either that, or we've stumbled onto the fact that pure evil can be smothered by a pair of fine leather gloves."

Spinning a chair on its rear leg before stopping it before him, he sits upon it backwards and crosses his arms across its wooden back. "We've got some time to kill now. Quintus is strictly on lockdown, though we're in luck that it's unthinkable they'd be looking for him in the temple of Pelor since they undoubtedly think he's some dread necromancer or something. I don't think anyone suspects me, but I'll be damned if they didn't have scrying mirrors watching every inch of that tower, and I have no idea if they have any sort of recording capacity, so I probably shouldn't go out without a disguise either, just to be safe."

Resting his chin on his forearms, he adds, "It occurs to me that whatever form law enforcement and investigative forces might take in Sigil will probably be crawling all over that bazaar in search of Quintus, that could significantly complicate our ability to collect our reward. I don't think our devilish bartender contact would sell us out, but who's to say anyone else who saw us on our first trip would be so inclined to not profit from our misfortune? It may be best if I make the trip alone..."
 
Suvne shakes her head at Val. "Lord Val, if I may... you've answered your own question, I think. Thanks to my training, I'm able to see evil auras at all times, and I assure you that the aura of the Hand of Vecna has always been as noticeable as it is now. So, yes, Sir Amriel and the others likely know it's there; for them it's just par for the course whenever Lord Quintus is around. My guess is that it's easier for them - and for their congregation - to ignore so long as the actual item isn't in sight; otherwise it wouldn't make sense to ask him to hide it."

She then turns to Sarm, stifling a yawn. "I look forward to your sermon tomorrow, Lord Sarm. If you don't require my assistance for anything else tonight, I think I will retire to my quarters for the evening; it has been a long day." She bows respectfully toward Sarm, and nods to each of the other party members. "Lord Quintus, I am truly glad that you are holding up as well as you are, in the face of all that evil. It speaks to your formidable strength of character." She blushes just slightly, then starts toward the stairs as she begins to unfasten the straps holding her armor in place.
 
"Hmm... I don't even have a pulse and I still got it. Anyways, while there are ways I could get around every watcher being on the look out for me, I guess its not really worth the hassle, so I get to hear Sarm's sermon tomorrow. Yay."
 
Tarkus cracks his knuckles and grunts contentedly as a plan comes into place. However, as Val suggests he might go alone he interjects. "Agree stealthy, but too dangerous going alone." He scratches his chin in thought before continuing. "Bar Devil seem no friend of Lady...would be strange considerin' favor asked by Mr. Shado." He stands up. "Should go with same as before."
 
The next morning, Tarkus and Val leave early for Lazav's Alchemical Emporium, with Val taking care beforehand to create a suitable disguise for himself ((roll Disguise and describe how you want to alter your appearance)).

The emporium is fairly empty of patrons at this hour; presumably, most of the necromancers practice their trade during nighttime hours, and then go hide away from the daylight. When Tarkus and Val get to the bar toward the back of the building, the familiar half-devil bartender seems to be opening up shop for his shift.

"I take it things didn't go well," he says as he notices Tarkus approaching. "I guess your human friend didn't make it?"


----------

As Sarm waits patiently in a chair near the pulpit, he watches with fascination as the pews steadily fill with people. This is the highest concentration of humans he's seen in one place since arriving in Sigil, but there are other races represented as well. He sees a few more angels, a group of centaurs, some fauns, and a khajit or two - somewhat surprising, considering the borderline-shady persona of the only other khajit he's ever met.

Suvne is sitting in the front pew, eager to drink in a sermon in Pelor's name for the first time; until pledging her loyalty to Sarm, she had only ever attended services for Heironeous.

Finally, the temple seems to be filled to capacity, and as the two Deva clergymen (clergywomen..? Their race is very androgynous, so it's difficult to tell) close the door, Amriel approaches the podium and spreads his wings. On cue, the congregation becomes silent.


"It's always good to see so many friendly faces," Amriel says, projecting his voice far more powerfully than Sarm is used to. "Most of you I recognize, which is wonderful, but I also see a few new faces today - and that warms my heart, just as Pelor's light will no doubt warm yours.

"I will be brief, because today we have a very special guest from the Material Plane. Chosen by Pelor himself to embark upon a quest to save the whole of the Multiverse from the greatest evil it has ever known, he has been kind enough to agree to say a few words to us all today. We are grateful to him, and even moreso to Pelor, for blessing us with his presence today. My I present to you Sarm Santee."

Amriel steps aside and gestures for Sarm to take the pulpit. There is no applause from the congregation, but judging by the low mumblings and the energy coming from the crowd, they seem genuinely interested - possibly excited - to hear what he has to say.

((Sarm, give me a Diplomacy roll along with your speech please))
 
Sarm nods and thanks Amirel for welcoming him, and steps up to the pulpit, to look over the audience. He takes a moment to carefully gaze their reactions to his presence, but has already decided that it would be unwise not to take this opportunity.

With that, he begins to speak...

Diplomacy: 1d20=11

"It has been quite some time... Some time since I was able to visit a proper Temple of Pelor for the pure joy of basking in his light. I know many listening to me now are skeptical of my quest, and whether I am just. I sometimes question that myself. I do know, that my quest has taken me far away from my home, and has already brought so many challenges to both my abilities and my conduct.

I originally began my quest with the intention of bringing Pelor's light to where it fails to shine on the Material Plane, coming from a land where the sun bathes the most. Being here now, in Sigil, in this Temple I see that even in a land where there is no sun, there are still those that push to bring Pelor's light here. It impresses me and makes me greatly happy to see that no corner can cast a shadow deep enough to block the sun's light.​

Pausing for a moment, Sarm clasps his right hand, and then unfolds it to reveal a warm glow emitting, a very small and modest Daylight spell has been cast in demonstration of what he is about to say.

"Even if there is no sun in Sigil, let Pelor's light shine from yourselves, and let it be given to those lost in the darkness.​

He tilts his palm forward, letting the light ease and break apart into smaller specks that glitter towards the audience and soon disappear as a way of giving image to the idea of giving the light.
Satisfied with the message that he has given, he decides to finish.

"Thank you for allowing me to visit and the opportunity to speak like this. Sir Amiriel, I give this audience back to you."​

He moves back to the side now and turns to watch, next to Suvne. He has always been more of a do-er than a true teacher, and that was probably apparent in his delivery.
 
((Since Tarkus isn't actually there I can't RP a reaction but that was a sweet sermon by Sarm, KM. Also all this feels really timely now given that Torment kickstarter that is continuing to barrel its way through stretch goal after stretch goal with a full 28 days still to go. I'm certainly pumped!))
 
KittenMaster said:
((I actually had a little more flair, but since I failed my Diplomacy roll I decided to cut that bit out.))
Click to expand...

((I wanna hear the flair. Edit it back in and I'll give you a bonus to the roll. Also, there is no DC on that roll; the outcome will determine something else. There was no failing (well... I guess a 1 would be failing, but that's all) ))
 
ThLunarian said:
((I wanna hear the flair. Edit it back in and I'll give you a bonus to the roll. Also, there is no DC on that roll; the outcome will determine something else. There was no failing (well... I guess a 1 would be failing, but that's all) ))
Click to expand...

((Done. He actually doesn't say anything more, but rather he does an action to go with what he's saying.))
 
Code: 
Disguise Check:  1d20+13=24

Not knowing how long he's going to be in need of using a disguise, Val opts to forego utilizing the time-limited powers of the Mask of Lies. Now lets see, what would someone who frequents Lazav's look like? Well, the immediate answer is "like a necromancer," but with Tarkus' insistence that he accompany Val on this, and the possibility that someone at the emporium might be on the look out for an apparent necromancer who had a half-orc with him last time he was there, that doesn't seem like a good idea.

So who else would attend such a venue? Perhaps people in the market to sell to necromancers? Val hasn't seen any graveyards in Sigil, but reckons they must exist somewhere, and decides on dressing up as a purveyor of perhaps the most unseemly trade imaginable, a dealer in the dead.

Having never to his knowledge known a grave robber, Val largely uses his imagination to concoct the look, using a small vial of oil of potent bronzer to darken his complexion several shades. Deciding on a hooked prosthetic nose and pointed chin, he applies those and blends them in with his darkened skin. A small lens of opaque white and a vertical scar across the right eye hopefully lends enough unsavory character to the character so as to dissuade confrontation. A couple fingers' worth of petroleum jelly run through the hair to give it the look of not having been washed in some time, and the look is complete. Well, largely. At the last minute, Val adds a slight limp and hunched posture to the ensemble just to round things out.

Apparently the disguise works well enough to fool the half-devil bartender, but who's to say how attentive the man really is. "No, things did not go well," he mumbles in a gravely voice, "but I very much made it. Let our mutual acquaintance know that the route has been altered, and he may expect his guest at the appointed time and place. Assuming the Tower didn't scrap the entire plan for the next few days on account of the unfortunate trouble they had there yesterday. Something about a terrorist group? Here in Sigil? Very disconcerting."
 
((I forget, did the barkeep leave before the shadow spoke its request?))

Tarkus laments missing Sarm's speech but rests assured Suvne will recap in great detail when he returns. Heading out, he leads the way for a very dishevelded and crooked-looking Val make their way through the dark market. His movement reassumes the rigid and stoic military carriage he put on before and even with time allowed for Val's hobbling they are able to make it to the bar early. He spots the bartender and grunts in reply to his greeting question, stepping aside for Val to speak.

Nodding along, Tarkus lack of attention to the conversation is only betrayed by his eyes, making covert glances around the bar to watch for signs of foul play. Once satisfied he remains stiff but clears his throat to follow up on Val's words.

"Yes. Rough business...but no concern us. Shado's favor complete, need meet for exchange."
 
The barkeep frowns, and the frown only gets deeper as Val keeps talking. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that. I want no part of whatever scheme our associate sent you to complete. It's probably my fault for asking how it went. I'll remember to restrain my displays of sympathy from here on.

"You didn't need to come back here, anyway. If you did whatever our friend sent you to do, trust me - he will find you, and he will make good on his end of the bargain. I would offer you more work, because you seem like a competent bunch, but I have the feeling that number one, you're likely busy enough with your own affairs, and number two, even if you were willing, I very much doubt the dogs of Pelor you had tagging along with you the other day would want anything to do with the sort of work that people are willing to pay for around here."


----

The sermon is generally well-received by the congregation, and after Sarm takes his seat, Amriel returns to the pulpit and, after thanking Sarm, speaks for about forty five minutes, about Pelor's teachings on forgiving your enemies - in some cases, after you smite them, but forgiving them nevertheless.

Once the sermon is complete, there is an hour-long meet-and-greet; Sarm and Suvne (and Quintus if he chose to attend in the main hall) are treated almost like celebrities, much to their chagrin (Quintus might actually enjoy it, depending on his frame of mind).

Finally, once things are mostly wound down and the majority of the congregation has left, Amriel beckons Sarm to a back room.

"I want you to have this," he says, and offers Sarm the day's collection plate. There is a staggering 14,000 gold worth of coins. "Please, we want you to take it. As you can see, our congregation is very generous, and even after our efforts to aid the destitute and help those in need, our coffers have never been left wanting. Besides... your sermon today, in large part, is the reason we collected as much as we did."
 
Sarm is absolutely surprised at the generosity of the church. He does feel legitimately bad about the offer, considering that being herald as a great hero, giving a great speech to the people, and then earning 14,000 gold pieces sounds like something Val would do in his spare time, if he hasn't already done so. "Such generosity isn't necessary as a reward. Since I cannot decide what my companions do with their shares, please at least allow me to donate my portion, plus a bit of extra from my own pocket, to help further the goals of your Temple." Suvne can also donate if she wishes.

Sarm will donate 2,000 from his own funds he has already, and his share of the collection plate offer.
 
Val in his disguise nods in acquiescence to the barkeep. "I'm sure that even if I had the foggiest notion as to what you were referring, we wouldn't be interested. A man could get killed doing that for a living. See you around." Tapping Tarkus on the bicep, Val hobbles out of the emporium with his false limb and hunched posture.

KittenMaster said:
Sarm is absolutely surprised at the generosity of the church. He does feel legitimately bad about the offer, considering that being herald as a great hero, giving a great speech to the people, and then earning 14,000 gold pieces sounds like something Val would do in his spare time, if he hasn't already done so. "Such generosity isn't necessary as a reward. Since I cannot decide what my companions do with their shares, please at least allow me to donate my portion, plus a bit of extra from my own pocket, to help further the goals of your Temple." Suvne can also donate if she wishes.

Sarm will donate 2,000 from his own funds he has already, and his share of the collection plate offer.
Click to expand...
((How do we want to split that? $2800 each (or rather -$4800 for Sarm), $2500 each with $1500 for general party funds? $2000 each $4000 for party funds?))
 
Amriel sighs. "I had a feeling that you would do this, so I came up with a backup plan that I won't let you refuse. Wait here a moment." He leaves the room for a second, then returns carrying a resplendent suit of full-plate armor, emblazoned prominently with the symbol of Pelor on the chest. "This is a suit of Radiant ((http://dnd-wiki.org/wiki/SRD:Radiant)) Armor, crafted in the Astral Sea by one of the finest angelic blacksmiths I've ever known. I haven't used it in centuries, and it would otherwise just continue to sit here collecting dust, so I'd like you or Lady Suvne to have it."

Val and Tarkus return to the temple some hours later, secure in the high probability that it won't be a problem to make contact when the time comes.

((Basically, since Sarm and Suvne returned their shares of the gold, that means there is 8400 to split between Val, Tarkus, and Quintus, or 2800 a piece. The 2000 additional came out of Sarm's own pocket, if I'm understanding correctly.

Also, you guys have about 3 days to kill. You can use it for RP interaction, or we can just fast forward; it's up to you all))
 
Sarm glances over the armor, then back to Amirel, "This is still very generous, but I suppose it is not as much of a sacrifice to your funds. Thank you. Its powers will undoubtedly prove useful in our quest to recover the Rod of Pelor and our further quests after that." He would then summon Suvne to have her take it with her to get it fitted for her size.

The time of inaction leaves Sarm a chance to interact with the locals and get to know them better, feeling brave to be able to talk to elementals and angels as a human being. But later.. alongside his prayers to Pelor, he begins to put himself into meditation and thought, sitting in contemplation for awhile.

((What kind of armor does Tarkus have again?))
 
KittenMaster said:
((What kind of armor does Tarkus have again?))
Click to expand...
((Plate, but I just upgraded no too long ago, so you could probably sell Suvne's old suit if that's what you were thinking. Also I'm at a bit of a loss for what to RP so I'm fine with skipping ahead from here if you guys are.))
 
((I just realized that Sarm can wear Heavy armors in 3.5 (in Pathfinder Clerics are only proficient in up to Medium armors, which is undoubtedly where I got that misconception from), so I can probably just give it to him.))
 
((Quintus, feel free to explain how you spent those 3 days, but I don't think it will affect this post much so we will skip ahead))

The next three days are downright boring for the party. Being cooped up in the temple doesn't help, though perusing through the available texts in the tiny library (really more like a single bookshelf) does give those who care to look a better understanding of the multiverse in a very general sense (this information was not widely known on the party's home plane).

One thing of note: on the day he returns from Lazav's, Val stops to pick up a newspaper and sees the headline "Watchers' Tower Attacked By Rebels" with a subheading "Group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Analgesia claims responsibility". The story contains quotes from an anonymous source, claiming to have taken part in the bombing. Whether the story is pure propaganda, the work of a reporter with an over active imagination, or someone actually taking up the mantle of Val's fictional cause, is hard to say.

At this point it has been just about a week since Quintus was afflicted with Vecna's curse, and there is some good news; his mental state does not seem to be deteriorating at all, as it was for the unfortunate villagers of Alydar. Whether this is due to some mysterious blessing from the god of secrets, or whether it speaks more to Quintus's superior strength of will, is anyone's guess.

Finally the day arrives, and as the moment draws closer, tensions mount. Though obviously it is in the party's best interests to steer far clear of the Lady of Pain, there may be some lingering regrets that they chose not to be present at that street corner on this day.

The moment arrives, according to the clock in the main hall of the temple. Apart from a simple chime, it's an otherwise unremarkable event. The seconds tick away, with no indication of the true outcome of their efforts in the Tower.

An hour passes.

Then another.

As the pacing becomes frantic and questions arise on how else they might breach Ravenloft, and whether their employer will seek vengeance for their failure to deliver, Tarkus looks down and realizes that he's grasping something in his hand which he does not remember picking up.

Clenched in his fist is a curious, small, black metal cube. Its sides are rough and bumpy, and Quintus can tell that it's magical. Around the cube is a note written on a small piece of paper; the handwriting suggests that this person does not normally write in common, though the actual grammar is perfect.

'Well done. You have proven yourselves capable agents. Return to Lazav's, should you desire more work.'
 
Other then nearly falling asleep during Sarm's sermon(quite the feat considering he no longer sleeps), Quintus doesn't do much other then the criminally small bookshelf. He considers using scrying to watch the events with the Lady unfold(if anything did happen at all), but decides that the risk of it being tracked back to him is too high.
 
((Just in case the lack of replies are due to people forgetting what comes next, here is a handy quote from a few pages ago, spoken by the shadowy figure who gave you the tower assignment:

"The location of the portal is free, as it will be useless to you without the key. Far across the city, on Coralheim Avenue, you will find an establishment owned, operated, and patronized entirely by demons. In the basement of this establishment is a door to a cage. When properly unlocked, that door will lead you to Ravenloft."
Click to expand...

It could also just be because it's the weekend, which is fine; I'm just covering bases here))
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Similar threads

Thank You Forr Neogaf Gold
14
9K
Virex replied
Reign of Fear: A NeoGAF DnD 5e Play by Post Campaign
57 58 59 60 61
3K
228K
Jackben replied
Post your Wallpaper
14
3K
aldousacker replied
  • Locked
My French assistant has a thing for me...
3
7K
Yoshi replied
Something wrong with the Funny post thread?
0
1K
Amakusa replied
Top Bottom