dwargstof

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 AS:2/3 Almost like clockwork, as the Ettercaps slipped into magical slumber, Rahnur and Belmund took on a new moving target. Nocked and ready, Belmund let another shaft sail from his longbow with a satisfying thwip. OOC Belmund continues to Pulp Fiction with Rahnur Action: Longbow attack (same target as Rahnur) Bonus: Movement:

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 At Najya's sign asking if Nanny Pu'pu was a threat, Brigg nodded, doing his best to reply with garbled Drow sign language; Yes, be guarded, trouble present. Brox stopped at the door, as did Brigg. Eku was missing, that was true, but the danger of their immediate situation had just escalated, as far as the hairs on Brigg's neck and shoulders was concerned. Something was not right about any of this and if the rumors were true, this old nan may be much more than meets the eye. Her smell, the way she moved, the very air around here...none of it indicated he should step foot inside that hut. This feeling...this intense aprehension, it was not unlike a time he had been fooled, made to believe his freedom was imminent only to have to swiftly taken from him again as he was traded to another slaver like a bag of produce at the market. No, none of this was right. He planted himself just outside the door and spoke, his stoicism cracking with his rising agression. "What is to be said indoors that cannot be said out here?" he demanded of the woman. "Where have the dwellers of this place gone?" OOC Brigg is not a fan of splitting the party with this odd woman present, but aquiesces to a slight degree. He will not enter the hut unless given a good reason. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 Hravin shook his head at Keryn's request. "Unfortunately, no, speaking with the newly departed is not within my abilities, quite yet. It is a skill I long for, though...especially since we are the new Homicide Squad for the city, apparently. Markus's remains will have to do, for now." With that, he stroked his short beared, to engage in some unchecked thinking, again. "Cults and demons and murders and a city swallowed whole," he mused quietly, "this is big. Oh, this is something very, very big. Bigger than any of us imagined, you know? Like, end-times big." Trailing off, he simply walked around the crime scene, mulling over his thoughts internalling while vaguely examining the crime scene when Mishka's question broke his internal spiral. "Hmm? Oh, Hall or Hallgate, yes. I'm not sure about the name, but I will reflect on that. Zariel, I assume, is our 'fallen' that poor Markus had to be murdered for, but why Markus? Why him specifically and not, say, one of us, or some other random person we don't know?" "Velnar! Since this is your crime scene, what was done to preserve the state of things at the time of discovery? Who made the discovery? Were there any books, like a journal perhaps, or papers laying about?" He turned to the smeared symbol, trying to recall if there were any similar symbols or if the desicrating smear over Zariel's symbol meant anything at all. OOC History Check to see if Hravin has read anything about a connection between the Hall/Hallgate name and devilry, devil worshop, magicks, etc Arcana Check on lore about Zariel's smeared symbol, if the desicration has meaning or why it might have been smeared. insight check on whatever Velnar responds. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 Brigg is disappointed, but remains stoic. His hunting skills had atrophied, to say the least. He'd been around civilization too long, even after his years as a slave. He would need to practice more...and soon, if they were to survive this ordeal. On the other hand, perhaps there was nothing to track. Brigg noted that Mbala must have been deserted long ago for the grasses and foliage to have started reclaiming the land, already. To Mariposa's offer, he nods acceptance. "This Dream Spider...I do not understand it," he said to her quietly, lest any unseen predators be near this long-abandoned village, but if it will allow you to see what we cannot, it will be helpful. There was a rumor of this place, one of death and a hunger that would not be quelled. I cannot be sure, but warnings in the jungle are best headed." Brigg sniffed the air, searching for hints of decay while trying to recall the full story he had heard of this place. "We would be foolish to not have our weapons at hand." His maul, its thick lignum vitae shaft sporting a blocky iron head with two large, flat strike faces, rested easy in his hand, waiting to make mash of whatever came their way. Brigg was bracing for a fight, but deep down, hoped it would not come to that. He surveyed his surroundings, waiting and ready. OOC Brigg tries to recall the story that he heard about M'bala while waiting for Mariposa to do ther thang. General perception check of the area, watching for any other movement or signs of life. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 They Came From Outer Space: Hravin watches with interest as Qan-Di reveals information he had assumed she wanted kept a bit quieter, but smiles when she does. As if the group didn't already think Hravin was a bit of a conspiracy kook, he nodded sagely and jumped in the conversation for a moment. "Braal," he corrected Keryn's pronunciation, elongating the 'a' sounds just barely, "it's...one of many places beyond the sky. I've never been, myself, only read about it a particularly dusty part of the stacks at Candlekeep, but Qan-Di hails from, well, not here, if you catch my meaning. Ahh, perhaps one day we will travel to see it, as I would so love to fish the phlogiston..." Hravin trailed off at the colloquialism that'd he seen once in the same books he mentioned, not knowing what it truly implied, but having some vague idea. Qan-Di shot him a careful glance, indicating he should perhaps keep it to himself, for now. "At any rate, we must survive, uh, all this, first." It would seem, however, that surviving would require some luck. They have been fortunate enough so far, but what happens when that runs out? "Qan-Di, as always, if ever I can repay you for your services, you simply name the price or procedure and I will not hesitate." Always Before The Rooster Crows: Awoken. Again. A groggy thought bubbled into Hravin's mind as he pulled himself from his bedroll far too soon. It escaped his lips. "I do wonder if I will ever get a good night's sleep again without being disturbed by some emergency." Falburn explained, with a new connection to Segren. He wracked his memory to see if he'd ever heard of Markus Hallgate or the surname "Hallgate" before, but it was a big city and not everyone knew everyone else. "We do seem to love investigating things, eh? Perhaps we should have a name for our little, ah, detective agency," he says excitedly to the group. "The note mentions an abandoned name," he pointed out to Falburn and the group, "is 'Hallgate' their original name? Or was it changed? I assume the Fist would have records of such things." Hravin's slight fixation on coded messages and ciphers takes hold yet again, as he scans the words over Mishka's shoulder for any other clues that may start the investigation off on the right foot. OOC Hravin questions the mention of the "abandoned name" and tries to assist Misty with examining the letter for clues and codes. edit: J/K, he only thinks he's looking at the letter! Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 AS:3/3 Carlona Conundrum! At the mention of Selebon's name and two dead Harpers, Belmund was glad this conversation was taking place in private. Still, he considered each of her words as she said them, looking for any cryptic meanings. He knew, at times, he could be too trusting, but people tended to reveal themselves in ways they were not able to control, especially when they thought they had a trustworthy audience. Belmund found playing that audience to be more useful than not. "Ahh cannae say," he started, dropping his Murdoc accent if only for the sake of building that implied trust further, "best if each o' them makes a choice o' showin' a true face, as ye kin likely agree. Ahh've found a different approach teh be more, say, effective. In any ol' case, yer story be indicatin' that eyes be watchin' fer us, so best limit what each o' us knows lest we be caught an' forced teh implicate others. Keep low, fer now. If anyone else asks, ye theived milk n' cheese from another wagon fer fear o' starvation due to bein' robbed yerself. Agreed?" Combat Cacophony! The initial chaos of the battle started to slip into a dance of sorts as the Heroes opened their arsenals. Just as Belmund's first shot landed true, burying deep in the Ettercap's side, he had another arrow ripping from his bow as he uttered the carefully memorized phonemes to mark his wounded target. OOC Insight check on Carlona's response, as he continues to evaluate her intentions, fellow Harper or not. He also tries to invent a cover story in case any of the other caraveers comes quetsioning. Belmund drops Hunter's Mark on the Ettercap he and Rahnur are shooting at, firing another arrow at the same. Action: Longbow to Ettercap (same target as Rahnur) Bonus: Movement:

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 Day 22: The dig site was odd, to say the least. Prepped, worked, then left nothing short of abandoned. Evidence showed that a considerable time had passed, as Brigg examined the compacted dirt and root structure. Not for lack of trying, he could make no sense of the dig site's original purpose. The water-catcher, however, would be useful in the dewey mists of the jungle heat. They would need to source water for the days to come and it was best to boil what fell from the leaves of these ancient trees, first, lest they be tainted with subtle poison or choking molds. Approaching the Settlement: Brigg was glad to see signs of civilization, in a way, since that typically meant provisions and rest, neither of which the jungles of Chult offered to any reaching hand. Life was not a granted thing in the wilderness, so survival must be taken as opposed to expected. Brigg knew this all too well, which is why his hackles raised slightly at Najya's concern Eku had, if he did not misinterpret her sign, vanished. "Mariposa speaks true. The dangers of this place are too many to list. I will help find Eku. Do not call out to her. We do not want to draw attentions, again." Whatever Eku saw, it made her feel that breaking off from the group to scout ahead was warranted, which meant stealth was in order. Brigg took a breath to calm his nerves and set his mind to tracking, as though he were locating prey for a feast. There was a mix of quiet calm and feral quality about his methods, which would help here with any luck. Brigg began looking for signs of Eku's passage... OOC Brigg keeps the water-catcher from the dig site. Brigg assumes steathy hunting, and starts tracking Eku. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 Hravin drew his mouth tight and exhaled hard through his nose. His flimsy mastery of the lighter side of the arcane had dwindled and that last attempt was a waste of an effort. Still, he was no worse for wear... Keryn, on the other hand, was not looking well. Hravin rushed to the Elf, offering some small strips of cloth to help staunch the bleeding, should he need them. "Apologies, Keryn," he began, "the excitement of the chase got the best of me. My energies should have been focused on aiding you. Rest assured, this is a lesson to me." Waiting a beat after his apology for his tactical mistake, he called Qan-Di over. "Qan-Di! Have you any tonics or herbs to assist my friend, here?" She did tend to have an assortment of medical odds and ends, but whether or not she brought them on this particular summon was only a guess. As Keryn offered his explination to Benn Hithlin, Hravin turned to Qan-Di. "As you know, Elturel has been swalled into abyss. My brother was working in the city as an arcane architect where I was planning to visit him. I was...out of options. Candlekeep is no longer a welcome place for me, and it is getting harder to find steady income, this damnable economy! I thought that I would visit with him, extend the olive branch as it were and perhaps get back on my feet with his assistance. It seems like so long ago that I was jarred from sleep in a roadside inn that was being attacked by netherlings when this group arrived to fight them off. Since then, it seems to have been a never-ending string of run-ins with cultists, wicked things bursting forth from the flesh of the living and ridiculously aggressive wasps." He rubbed his left cheek that still had some sore spots. "And like the wasps, it seems we have attracted some unwanted attention." OOC Hravin tries to convince Qan-Di to help Keryn with some o' that sweet sweet HP, if she can, while also explaining his involvement in the situtation up to this point. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 Carlona Conundrum! Belmund did not know the woman by name or reputation, but he knew a Harper's mark when he saw one. A thought burned through his mind, one where he was found out. Most of the caravaneers would not bat an eye at Harpers being among them. In fact, some might expect it. But it was getting more difficult to tell, almost by the hour, who whispered to the Cult and who kept their own secrets. Carlona's tattoo was another matter. Anyone could get a tattoo. It was harder to come by a Harper brooch without earning it, though that could be done with a little effort. Her ink did not prove her character by any stretch of the imagination, but she had what appeared to be genuine gratitude for her rescue. That was a start and would have to be good enough for Belmund. "Ay--ahh, sniffing will often turn up trouble," he said, struggling with his accent a bit as held back his questions, "old friend used to say 'ye be sniffing arse, be ready fer the wind!'" Belmund laughed, more to releive his own tension more than anything. He was a dwarf of principles, but he was worried that sticking by his principle of helping people was going to give him a heart attack. Or worse, make him a grumpy old sod. Wendy joined in, her Dardanelle persona chipper and welcoming as ever. She was quite observant, so there was no way she missed the Harper mark. He nodded to her, knowing that she'd cozy right up to the woman and get the information they needed far better than he ever could. He'd hold his questions, for now. There would certainly be time enough on this journey. Eyes were on them now, largely because he had never quite learned to temper his desire to help people break free, be it from the brainwashing of a Cult or the tyranny of life itself. Belmund believed everyone deserved a second chance, which often left him more vulnerable to exploitation than he cared to admit, but really, where would the world be without second chances? Belmund did not want to find out. Approaching Carlona privately before everyone settled for the night, he spoke with her. "I tend to make a few new friends each time I travel, but this time is something special. Thing is, this lot'll have yer back if you have theirs, no truer words will ya hear this side of the Sword Coast. Now, I don't mean any presumption, but it seems to me that your last group didn't quite have the same bond. Past is past, so long as we use what we learned to forge a better future, if I don't mind sayin'. Know that the choice is yours, Carlona. They'll welcome ya if you let 'em." Combat Cacophony! Belmund's task of checking the wagon axle for stress cracks was more for show, than anything, but it was still rudely interrupted by shouts and neighs. The now-familiar huff of Wendibear charging into the fray told him they were definitely being attacked this time and it was not just another social scuffle. Theo was off like a shot, and the twang of Rahnur's bow told him to snag his own from its hiding place on the side of the card. in a flash, he had an arrow knocked and released following Rahnur's. OOC Carlona: Belmund invites her to be part of the group in hopes that quells any shady stuff she wants to do. Combat: Longbow shot to Ettercap Rahnur is shooting at. Action: Longbow to Ettercap (same target as Rahnur) Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 The action was quick. Catching his breath, he gave a lopsided grin to Qan-Di. "Well, they woke me from a nap. What else could I do but join them?" With that, possibly his best quip ever by his own reckoning, Hravin summoned the scorn of Denier like the lash of a harsh instructor burning across his knuckles, wound up with a few steps forward and slung the radiant bolt in a graceful overhand pitch straight at the raving Cultist Fanatic. OOC Hravin shoots Guiding Bolt at CF Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 1/3 Hravin's eyes went wide when he saw Mishka's condition only moments into the fray. As her hammer sails through the air, Hravin peels around the back of the cart where another dead cultist lay, and places his hand on Mishka's shoulder. Syllabals intoned, Hravin felt the familiar warmth of Denier's approval flow through his fingers and into his new companions wounds. "Keep thy flesh whole, thy mind open and thy spirit willing." The phrase wasn't required for the spell, but helped him focus the weave of energy. OOC Move to Mishka around the back of the cart since C4 is dead, get that Cure Wounds action Action: Cast Cure Wounds on Mishka Bonus: Movement: Move to Mishka

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 Day 21 The air of the jungle had strange mix of rot and renewal to it that always pleased Brigg. It reminded him just how wild the place was, how natural it felt versus the more peopled settlements he had seen. Chult was massive, yet it was a macrocosm of the world itself, constantly churning in a cycle of life and death. He stared at the results of one such cycle, the dung pile not quite a day old but already starting to enrich the soil beneath it. "Lizards near, we're likely on part of their game trail." A note for all, though he didn't doubt they already knew. Soon, his words came true. He stopped short just before the thunder lizards entered the clearing. Brigg caught the gaze of a matriarch...he presumed she was the mother, anyway. Her watchful eye was all he needed for the assumption, her knowing he was at least partially wild, so he would know the rules. And there were always rules. He stood, poised but relaxed, meeting her eyes and keeping his own off the young lizards signaling he had no interest in their offspring or anything else. They were all just passing through, and pass through they did. Brigg nodded at Story's comment. "Savage, yes. It is the way of things under all the masks." Day 22 Brigg took in the sights and smells of the dig site, more interested in what was being dug for as opposed to what happened to those doing the digging. The latter was obvious. One of the massive jungle beasts had an easy meal. While Eku checks the provisions left behind, Brigg takes a closer look at the hole, and tries to recall what bauble or natural resource might possess someone to be digging in this unforgiving place. (Nature Check: 14) Day 23 Pterafolk. Brigg smiled, toothy and feral. There was little time for thought, which suited Brigg just fine. Almost before the screaching could reach Brigg's ears, his javelin was moving through the air (15 ATK, 5 DMG) and found its mark in the shoulder of one of the swooping terrors. It lost altitude, complaing with an angry wail, and dropped low enough for a charging Brigg to send a mighty swing of his maul (20 ATK, 14 DMG) upward into the creature's head. It crashed to the ground, fumbling to right itself. Brigg moved in to finish the job, his blood pumping in a way that felt natural and real. Day 24 The climb proved more of a challenge that Brigg had remembered. Perhaps it was over-confidence, but on his ascent, there was a slip (Athletics: 7). It was more bruising to his ego than his body, but he managed to complete the ascent and channel some of the anger at himself into hauling the others up, anchoring himself well and drawing the rope in smooth, considered pulls (Athletics: 25). Atop, they hide, the scent of death a signal to stay in the shadows. Brigg knew a bit of the Red Wizards, and certainly more than enough to know to steer as clear of them as possible. He was not a fan of this Artus and his companion, aptly named Dragonbait. They both were attracting slightly more attention that Brigg cared for amidt the standard dangers of the jungle. He found himself wanting little to do with either, but kept his head down and his mouth shut. Artus seemed to be aware of this, which Brigg could respect. Risk was a necessity. Brigg nodded to him, but said nothing. Day 25 The second climb seemed to go reasonably better (Athletics: 17), but Brigg was on his guard. This way was new to him. Though the jungle had a way of changing to keep travelers on their toes, Brigg doubted this was a natural development. "We climb," Brigg said to Eku, "stay on guard." The journey had been arduous, as Brigg expected, but he was ageing, and not the young pup he was when under the lash. His focus turned more to controlling his breath with each step, projecting a calm determination instead of the tiredness he was feeling, instead of keeping an eye on the path like he had planned (Perception: 6). OOC Rolls in Discord Brigg is curious about what was being dug up and checks it out. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 2/3 Red tape, indeed. Mishka's point was taken, but not at face value. "I supposed one must know the rules well before one can break them. Appropriately," he said, emphasising the last word more Hex's benefit than Mishka's. Hravin was not exactly the most apt judge of character, but she didn't strike him as someone who always follows the letter of the law. Time would tell, he supposed. In any case, she was certainly pleasant company, with an interesting accent that piqued his curiosity. "Qan-Di!" Hravin shouted excitedly as they reconvened with the others. "A sight for sore eyes, to be sure! We will have to catch up soon, but first the folks at the gat---" stopping short, his attention was called by shadows in the corners of his eye, moving in a pattern that didn't match the normal traffic, instead seeming to converge on...them. "Gods, an ambush!" he growled, realizing they had been taken by surprise. With his mace in hand, he prepared to face what may come, but not before gracing his companions with Denier's assistance. OOC Action: Cast Bless on Io, Gwen and Gaerzil Bonus: Prep Melee with Mace if C4 comes near him or Qan-Di (if possible) Movement: Stay Put

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 3/3 Hravin chuckled and put on a wry smile at Keryn's request. "Check for diseases? Baldur's Gate collects them like trinkets, already! I'd be more worried about the folks in the caravan catching something than anyone here bringing something through the gates." A shrug, the universal sign of resigned acceptance. "But indeed, our eyes and ears have already been decieved far too many times. I'll check for both disease and darkness coursing through each vein, if I must, lest another demon wear the flesh of a presumed ally." Hravin's paranoia was on high alert. It seemed that each step of this journey took him closer to Candlekeep, that dusty den where the Thieves of Thought manipulated the shadows themselves. And now the parasites of Baator walked freely out through the hole Elturel left behind, making it difficult to determine who to trust. Keryn, Gwen and Gaerzil, of course, seemed to be all he had now and his mind would stew on that for some time. He thought of his lost brother, what suffering he might be made to endure at this very moment, which brought with it all the moments of conflict, hurtful words, and bad decisions that had arisen between them. It wasn't useful thinking, Hravin knew. Dwelling on what ifs did not change the past. Better to look at what is. Task set, he made his plan known. "I can provide some exams myself, but with help, we can be quick and thorough. No doubt there are more refugees coming behind our lot. Falburn, do you have a runner fleet of foot that can get a message to Harborside Hospital? Get this message to one Qan-Di Cixin, a cleric of considerable skill and knowledge of maladies far beyond those that afflict only the flesh..." Producing a small quill and paper from his pouch, Hravin scribbled a note. The Message: Qan-Di, you must come at once. I have returned to Baldur's Gate with a caravan from near Elturel that has been through a considerable ordeal, and must be examined prior to entry. Any individuals you can spare that practice the healing arts would be ideal, as my companions could use aid, as well. It would also be good to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstancs. Your friend in Truth ~ Hravin With any luck, the message would reach Qan-Di within the hour and Hravin would have the first few of their group examined by then. He turned to his companions. "And your health, friends? All of you fair well, feel strong?" There were newcomers, though Hravin took his tasks very seriously, he made effort to at least be polite. "Io, Keryn minces no words. I am Hravin Snaefoss. Your talents are certainly welcome in these dark days. Be sure that your tales and tributes speak only truth, and we will have much to discuss!" The former Avowed resisted the urge to requiest a song or poem. There would be time enough for that later, he hoped. At Mishka's mentioned of record keeping, Hravin's ears perked up. "I see you are also a fan of bureaucratic red tape," he said with subtle sarcasm, "if there is any way I can help with the count or information gathering while performing my duties, please, do not hesitate to ask. Our goal needs to be getting these worn and weary folks in safe shelter as soon as possible." Soon enough, Hravin was with the travelers, seeing each one by one and looking for signs of phsyical, mental and spiritual ailments. Their faces were painted with stress, bodies heavy with exhaustion. Hravin carefully examined each, finding the work beneficial in keeping his mind off all that had transpired thus far. Amidst a sea of people, Hravin had never felt more alone. OOC Dr. Snaefoss, at your service! Hravin sends a note to an old friend at Harborside, hoping it can reach her in time to be useful. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 Belmund snapped to attention at Wendy playing at taking command. Playing at definitely understated things. Belmund knew Wendy could lead an army, if she had to. Events unfolded, and each day brough new challenges. Day 2: Belmund liked the rain. The smell of it brough a freshness that most others missed, a sense of renewal. And renewed he felt, masquerading as one Murdoc Loghammer. While the others sheltered, he let the droplets pelt his face, washing the prop sawdust from his beard, took in the strangely mossy scent from the Fields as he thought back to the legends surrounding them. He looked to the puddles forming, small bubbles popping as new rain fell into them. This meant the storm was higher in the atmosphere, the water trapping gasses that would be thrown to the earth and released as the rain drop broke. He idly wondered if that was the cause of the refreshing feeling. Perhaps it was just the happiness of being back on the road, back in his element and far from the bustle of the city. Day 3: Belmund has no tolerance for the abuse of creatures, especially those nice enough to carry the burdens of others. Still, he kept silent, not wanting to betray his ranger practices. In any case, Wendy was in command, here, that much was plain. Belmund casually stood, brushing the dust off his woodworking tools, clearing indicating that Wendy and Theodoric had the help, should they need it. Day 4: Oathbreaker. Traitor. Both powerful words, often made worse by mouths that would abuse them. The woman was dying, as was the intention of the punishment, but regardless of the crime, Belmund has his thoughts about that. "Torture is'nae justice," he said in own voice, keeping it low so that only those in his caravan could hear, "only a fool be confusin' the two." As he spoke, something tugged a memory. The woman's face. It was...familiar? He retrieved a waterskin from stowage on the cart and crouched down to the woman, offering a drink. A flash of memory, fuzzy though it may be, tells him that he's seen her at a Harper's meeting, though he cannot remember why she was there. He was almost certain she was not a Harper herself, but an ally, perhaps. "What earns a traveller such treatment, then," he asked of her, adopting his Murdoc Loghammer voice again but keeping his voice low, "what oath have you broken?" OOC Perception Check on Buried Woman: 13 (Discord). He definitely has questions and tries to persuade her with his charming Murdoc persona to answer. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 Brigg caught bits of Najya's signing. He was rusty, but it was enough. He nodded in the affirmative. "I can assist as you need. These cliffs are somewhat familiar to me." A pause, considering Mariposa's words. "I would like to know more about this Dream of the Spider. My kind disregard dreams, trusting instict instead...but I have learned to be more open to such things in my travels." There was more, of course, but Brigg found himself unwilling to tell it at this stage. He had just met these new individuals, after all. Odd how one can trust another with their life, but not their emotions. He rummaged through his own supplies, pulling the rope from his pack. OOC Posting for flavor, but Brigg is ready to start the journey. Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 1/3 Vollis, or whatever Vollis was now, was no more, but the danger was still very much present. As Hravin charged toward Wellum's location, Keryn wrapped the creature in some sort of ward, yelling for Wellum to get back, but Hravin heeds no such warning and reaches out to grab the creature, releasing a blackened despair from the depths of his conflicted mind. OOC Hravin moves to the last Hellspawn and uses Inflict Wounds Prep'd Action: Movement: Move within melee range of last Hellspawn Action: Cast Inflict Wounds (Necro DMG) on last Hellspawn Bonus:

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 Belmund catches Theodoric's concerned glance at Noddamimic's commotion and answers with a shrug. The gnome was a bit eccentric, as most gnomes were, but he might be better described as predicably unpredictable, which tended to serve clandestine meetings fairly well. Belmund assumed Talun mentioned the need for privacy to Nodda before their arrival, but regardless of how it came about, they had it. And with tea, to boot. The gears were turning while Talun shared substantial info. At the mention of the Cult operating all through the North, his thoughts turned to home and Ten Towns, wondering if the Cult had any presence there..and for how long? If so, how had he missed it? All these attacks, orchestrated to look like seperate incidents...they were dealing with a well-organized foe, indeed. Though, any organization believing itself to be well-organized had a critical weakness; the belief of being well-organized. Belmund's travels had taught him much, but if anything stuck out like a sore thumb, it was that he should also expect some chaos. He supposed this is why the Harpers worked so well for him. They were organized, sure, but remained flexible to the point where they could be careful bedfellows with the Guild if they needed to, though that certain left a bad taste in his mouth. A distant cousin of his, working as a private investigator in Waterdeep, had a brief tangle with them. Belmund's own experience with them could be described as cautiously convivial, but he noted Theodoric's distaste at their mention and kept that to himself, for now. "Talun, these chromatic factions within the Cult...ye think there might'n be any deep divides we can use te sunder the Cult's armor, so te speak? Thing aboot organizations that stick te shadows, they tend te have fuzzy edges and shifting allegiances, Harpers bein' no exception. Any point o' leverage we can get on individual Cult members would be valuable, indeed." Belmund quickly jotted down the location of a courier service that he had a tab with, legitimate to be sure, that he often used to send missives as far north as Ten Towns. Talun could typically get a message to him via this service and would know that it needed to be coded, but if the Half-Elf and his contacts found any pliable Cultists, Belmund wanted to know about them. Noddamimic returned with the requested items, and taking a cue from Theodoric, Belmund also picked out a used traveller's cloak, this one a deep green with the usual wear and tear on the bottom. The woodworker's tools were definitely used, the drawknife having been sharpered perhaps one too many times, leaving the blade thinner than it should have been, but still functional for quick jobs. The rest were worn in all the right places, showing that these tools had actually belong to someone who loved the craft. "Aye," he nodded to the gnome, "ye've got an eye for exactly what folk need, as usual, Nodda. I owe ye one." And with that, he handed over the necessary coin. Communication establish, he conversation wrapped up and tea was had, if only for a moment. Belmund could not stop worrying about the Cult infiltrating the North enough to properly enjoy his tea. --------------------- Belmund was not a fan of funerals, but attended, staying near the back to give the family space. He was not much of a mourner, but didn't deny the right to anyone else. Except maybe Akbar. That guy was a real dung bucket and every word he spoke seemed to be a stinking muck that sloshed over the sides. Belmund scowled at his words, but resisted the urge to toss a rock into his jabbering mouth. Being new to the group, he did not know Rahnur well, but already had a healthy respect for him and the way he composed himself. Remaining silent and somber for the ceremony, he watched the other mourners, looking for Cultist spies. He did not expect commotion, in this case, but his understanding of the Cult's reach grew by the minute and he did not doubt that at least one was in attendence, watching them. But who? Upon the fall of dirt, Rahnur's loved one was laid to rest. Belmund waited patiently to approach, offering condolences. "Ye honor yer family bond, well, Rahnur. We should all take note." Refraining from his usual prattle, he put his hand on Rahnur's shoulder as he spoke. It need not be said aloud, but Belmund would have Rahnur's back just as much as the rest of the group. Together they would see this thing through or fall trying. ---------------------- A few hours before reporting for his part in the caravan, Belmund found himself checking his gear. The sawdust he'd playfully tossed in his beard and around his shirt made for a nice touch, but he was careful to not overdo it. He wondered if it would get itchy after they set out. The woodworker's tools that Noddamimic had supplied felt right in his hands, though he'd only done a little actual woodworking in his time. He had some mechanical knowledge of fixing wagon wheels and axles, but not enough to do any major jobs. His new cloak, a deep and dark green, smelled of moss, indicating that the previous owner had spent much time in the wilds. Perhaps that was why he was attracted to it. Belmund was eager to get out of the city and back on the road. Spotting Wendy masquerading as Dardanelle, he hustled over to try out his new persona, Murdoc Loghammer, while pretending to assess the cart. "I appreciate you having me," he started, attempting to take the lilt out of his accent to add to his deception. Turning his attention to the cart, he whistled low. "So, there she is, eh? Is that the Primavera model from Gibson & Sons? Hadda slip-tennon on the back axle that was a work of art, that one. Well, ah'll be more'n...er, I'll be more than happy to keep her wheeling down the road for you!" It was clear he knew fairly little about wagons. Particularly this wagon, since he'd see it all of once after meeting the group. In any case, he was having fun with the character and with any luck, that would count for something. OOC Noddamimic's: Belmund asks Talun if there are any Cultists (or factions) that might turn traitor. Funeral: Belmund pays his respects and scans the funeral-goers for spies (aka people who are watching them) Prep for Caravan: Belmund tries out his new persona on Wendy for RP sake Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 Denier's wrath leapt from his hand, almost reflexively as the violence erupted. The magical bolt homes true, but he does not watch to assess Vollis's reaction. His eyes followed the dagger's path as it misses Gaerzil noting that the Teifling is okay for now, but there was no mistaking the sounds of pain in Gwen's direction. The Hellspawn were damned fast, but Hravin was close enough. With a practiced action, his mace was in his hands and swinging as he dashed toward the Infernal creature to assist Gwen, formidable though she may be. His mace swings wide and he braces for the response. OOC Hravin releases the Guiding Bolt at Vollis Move to and melee attack Hellspawn by Gwen with Mace Prep'd Action: Guiding Bolt to Vollis Action: Attack Hellspawn with Mace Bonus: Movement: Move to attack Hellspawn by Gwen

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 "Gods, she is ready to strike!" Hravin hisses through his teeth in a whisper to Keryn. The plan, such as it was, changed mere moments after it was formed. Taking a cue from the much more agile Moon Elf, Hravin shifts his weight to the balls of his feet and attempts to move quickly and quietly toward Voliis and Wellum. The ring on his finger, suddenly had a new purpose, becoming a sort of stylus for the subtle glyph he drew in the air as he prepared to fire a bold of Denier's radiance at Vollis should she attempt to harm Wellum All he had to do was utter the syllables. OOC Hravin tries stealth and readies Guiding Bolt Action: Fire Guiding Bolt at Vollis if she tries to harm Wellum (if within 120ft) Bonus: Movement: SPEED SNEAK TOWARD THEM

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 Hravin gave Gwen a quick head-to-toe glance at the suggestion that she might pass for a Hellrider and decided this was a fantastic plan. "Gwen, the Hellrider! Having seen you in the fray, I can say with certainty that you could probably pull off that deception rather nicely!" He chuckled, cutting himself short upon realizing that she might take offense to what he just said. "Er, I mean that with the utmost respect for your passion in battle, of course." Interested in moving past the awkwardness he tends to create for himself, Hravin jumped at Keryn's suggestion. The ring was located on his index finger, making it easy to fiddle it with his thumb. He practiced for a moment, slipping it up and down between his knuckle and the tip of his finger a few times before flipping it off his finger entirely, pinching it between his forefinger and thumb, the way a magician might present a "magic" coin freshly pulled from behind the ear of a child. "A subtle signal, to be sure. You are sure you will see it?" He flipped it off his finger a few times more, practicing, and showing the others what to watch for. "Denier willing, Vollis's deception will be easier to spot than Gwen's," he said, placing his hand on Keryn's shoulder, imparting the blessing of Denier upon his already keen elf sense. OOC Hravin is 100% on board with this plan. Action: Cast Guidance on Keryn Bonus: Movement: Go find Gaerzil and Keryn

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 Belmund found himself intrigued when Theodoric started to reveal a little about himself, but was careful to not press. "Stories fer later'r the best kind o' stories, says my days o' walkin' an' talkin'. Aye lad, we'll be needin' ta revisit that sometime soon, but Talun waits. Managed to send a message through ah, courier ah s'pose we'll say, an' he'll be meetin' us at Noddamimic's Resale Shop. Figurin' ah can kill two roc's with one rock if we stop there, an any rate, even the dullest eye'll be glancin' at me tools iff'n I call myself a woodworker, so the more used they be, the better. It's a low-traffic kinda place, and Nodda doesn't hound 'is customers, jess leaves 'em be til they start producin' coin. Interestin' stuff movin' through the shop, that one..." With that, he leads Theodoric out, heading for Noddamimic's to meet with Talun and pick up Belmund's props. OOC Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Brigg (Baghtu) | Race/Class: Bugbear Barbarian 3 | HP: 32/32 AC: 14 PP: 12 There was a lot of talk. To Brigg, this meant there was little action. Still, he must constant remind himself to be patient lest his aggression get the best of him and he end up in another place where he does not have the freedom to simply leave. This was, for all he saw, how the world worked and if he was to be a willing part of it, he must accept that jaws will wag from time to time. He sighed audibly at the thought. Perhaps he wished he had more to say. Best not dwell on that. The group seemed willing to take him on, particularly Mariposa, which marked her as odd. The One of Shadow, whom the faun referred to as "Eclipse" uses signs to communicate, and Brigg understands them, to a degree. There were many in The Network that used such methods to speak while in the slaver camps, silent and subtle. He took note of "Eclipse's" preferred method of communication, as it may come in handy. She keeps to herself and works from the periphery. In Brigg's experience, those were the folk you could trust, especially when it came to doing the right thing. As for the rest, they talked too much. But sometimes it was amusing. Brigg catches Brox's nod and returns with one of his own, accompanied by a smirk and soft chuckle. "Not my type," he informed Brox, picking up on the not so subtle hints, both verbal and non, "but the work beckons. We will focus and be clear of this place. Come, assist me in gathering supplies. Do you need anything to aid your work, Cyrienne?" It was his way of both keeping things on track and deflecting for Brox, best as he understood. Nobody would ever say Brigg's strengths lay in social cues. ---- "Walk West with wit," Brigg intoned as they readied to head out in search of the Oracle. It was an old phrase, one he had picked up from Gloriel Fellweather. The old woman had a fierce spirit and a sharp mind that tended to be full of aphorisms. He found himself wondering what she would do in this sitaution and decided that their path was true. Pausing, he thought back to his time under her wing and his treks through the jungle to recall anything he knew about this Oracle they saught. OOC Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Belmund Brokenstone | Race/Class: Dwarf Ranger | HP: 40/40 AC: 13 PP: 15 "Iff'n ye got a spare bit o' room for an...ahh...wheelwright, shall we say, ah'd be honored to help ye keep that wagon wagonin' along, Dardanelle!" Belmund offers Wendy his services as a road mechanic, knowing he'd have to fumble his way through the craft should the need actually arise. "Murdoc Loghammer at yer service! Done a fair bit o' farrier fixes in me day, as well, if the horses find themselves a bit worse for wear." He smiled his best used-cattle salesman smile as he invented his new persona. "That out o' the way, ah'm off te get some clothes for the road, so if anyone be needin' anything, ah can try te help with locatin' o the goods. Theo, ye make a fair point, we should talk to Talun. D'ye care to go with me? The errands for preperation can be made while we're out and about." Belmund leaves it up to Theodoric to follow if he wishes to accompany him on his errands and speak to Talun. Belmund is looking for more information, himself, as it seems his mission to guide these folks safely has turned into far more than he initially expected. He was no stranger to being on the road frequently, but deception was not his strength and may prove a challenge in the days ahead. OOC Belmund offers himself for a position on Wendy's Wagon, and heads out to gather supplies/disguise, and talk to Talun. Supplies he'd like to get: - hub chisel, spoke rounder, draw knife, manual drill and brace (wheelright's tools that would be portable) - farrier's tools (just in case) - woodworker's apron - a bit of saw dust to mess in his hair and beard Action: Bonus: Movement:

Name: Hravin Snaefoss | Race/Class: Human Cleric 2 | HP: 21/21 AC: 14 PP: 13 SS: 0/3 Hravin offers a nod of approval from over Gwen's shoulder. It was a fine poem, and Pal had as good a shot as any with Hastrine, he supposed. Their standards had to be remarkably high, but he couldn't knock Pal's taste. Hastrine was, indeed, lovely. He looked again at the poem, reading over the lines, letting the metre roll around in his mind, saturating his thougts with critical examinations of the word choice. There were ways, according to his studies, to hide coded messages in plain sight, though nothing so obvious as a simple substitution cipher. Deep in his memory, bits and pieces of Jolly Roger's Cyphertext Primer made themselves known to him, framing his search for hidden message in the poem. "There may be more to this..." he wondered outloud, running his finger over the words on the page. Gwen's comment about continuing to interview folks snapped him out of his curious reverie. "Uh, yes. Yes! That is a good idea. Perhaps we should conference with the others? Surely, they have new information as well, or at the very least, we can rule out a few more members of the gathering. Shall we?" Before heading off to meet with the others, Hravin slyly leaned in toward Pal. "Not much escapes Hastrine, and they're certainly sure to notice you now. I think you've got a shot!" He winked. OOC Hravin wants to do what the DM said! Also, he thinks there might be a hidden message in the poem and mulls that over. Very hung up on words, this guy. Action: Bonus: Movement: Go find Gaerzil and Keryn