Prologue: The Sinner’s Eye

[Whitleyrr]

Prologue: The Sinner’s Eye

Whether long or short, one thing the road you’ve travelled to here and now hasn’t been is straight. Had you taken the straight road, had this world even permitted it, you would not be here. Had you taken the straight road, the road perhaps you had planned for yourself, the golden light of the late afternoon sifting through dying leaves would have taken an healthy, almost ethereal glow. But as you see it now, having traveled the shadowy roads of grief, shame, or loss, it is only so much light fading slowly and again. Just when you wondered if you had followed the directions correctly, the narrow path in front of you widens and opens sharply, like a wound, to a small clearing in the forest. You hear an eerie chittering beneath you and look down just in time to see a beetle of some kind disappear beneath your boot. The crunch that follows is final. How quickly a life is taken. How disinterestedly. You walk on and hear again the eerie chittering. Glancing back you see a beetle traversing the path. Surely, it is another one, but if so, where the viscera of its predecessor?

Such musings will have to be for another time, for ahead of you is what you can only assume to be your destination. You pause for a moment trying to recall the mage’s name, but find you cannot. Surely you knew it when you decided to answer the summons? Surely. Ah, well, never mind. You’ll learn it again soon enough. You need this job. You need it to go well. And so here you are. 

And, so too, it seems, here is someone else. And another. And another. And five others all counted. How did they get here? You were on the only path, or what you thought was the only path. But a path nonetheless yawns behind each one of this soul-weary collection of flesh. At least they have the decency to look as surprised as you feel to see one another. But then horror dawns on their faces, too.

Edited May 9, 2023 by Whitleyrr (see edit history)

[PureChance]

Alban Lord Stuart - Human Shadow Sorcerer 

---

AC: 14  | HP: 27/27 | Initiative: +4 | Passive Perception: 11 (Darkvision 120ft) | HD: 3/3 | Inspiration 0/1 

---

Alban feels the beetle crunch beneath his well-heeled leather boots and pauses, looking down. What difference another life to hands already bloody? It is lucky the boots were well made, he thinks as he examines them, else they may not have lasted this long even. They too are beginning to show a little wear about the edges - too many days on the road and too few being cleaned, polished and preserved by careful servants. He would have to get it seen to when they arrived. Presuming this backwater even had a cobbler of any repute.

He moves on through the wood arrogantly, glancing back at the chittering sounds continuing. Not even nature cares to hold his name to the beetle it seems. A sudden chill steals over him, and he draws his thick purple cloak round him even as the path opens up ahead, disgorging him from the woodland and into-. He stops short suddenly, his normally controlled demeanour cracking as he glances round to see if this is some kind of cruel joke. The only other creatures visible are 5 strangers, each with their own look of horror. The only sound the door banging in the wind. A flurry of thoughts fly through his mind as he races to compose himself, to rationalise what he was seeing. A flock of illusory starlings take flight across his cloak, a mirror to his mind for any watching. No-one else could know, he tells himself. Why would they be here? Here isn't even real - how could the house be real? A dream, an illusion? He steps hesitantly towards the door, keeping a close eye on his fellow travellers, fingers wrapped tightly round the focus in his hands as his blood thrums with waiting power. "What brings you here, fellow travellers?" he calls out with false confidence.

---

Stat Block

Imperial (variant) Human Sorcerer 3

Languages Common, Elven

Background Noble Background Feature Position of PrivilegeThanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The common folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.

---

 StrSave +0
Athletics +0 11 DexSave +4
Acrobatics +4 | Sleight of Hand +4 | Stealth +6* 18 ConSave +5*
No skills associated. 16 IntSave +1
Arcana +3* | History +3* | Investigation +1 | Nature +1 | Religion +1 12 WisSave +1
Animal Handling +1 | Insight +1 | Medicine +1 | Perception +1 | Survival +1 12 ChaSave +6*
Deception +6* | Intimidation +4 | Performance +4 | Persuasion +6* 19

Proficiency Bonus +2 Saving Throws Con, Cha

Speed 30

Tools Calligrapher's Tools

Spell Attack Bonus +6 | Spell Save DC 14 | Spell Slots L1 4/4 ; L2 2/2

Sorcery PointsSubtle Spell - 1 point
Extended Spell - 1 point 3/3

---

Actions

• Dagger +6 to hit for [1d4+4] piercing damage | Light, Finesse, Thrown 20/60
• Light Crossbow +6 to hit for [1d8+4] piercing damage | Loading, Two-handed, 80/320
• Mind Sliver DC14 INT Sv for [1d6] psychic damage | V, one creature, 60ft | -1d4 next saving throw
• Frostbite DC14 CON Sv for [1d6] cold damage | VS, one creature, 60ft | disadvantage next weapon attack roll

Bonus Actions

Reactions

• ShieldAn invisible barrier of magical force appears and protects you. Until the start of your next turn, you have a +5 bonus to AC, including against the triggering attack, and you take no damage from magic missile. [Hit by an attack / targeted by Magic Missile]

 

[Karma Kameleon]

 

Str	Dex	Con	Int	Wis	Cha
9	12	13	16	10	18
(-1)	(+1)	(+1)	(+3)	(+0)	(+4)

 

Skill Proficiencies[-1] Athletics (Str)

[+1] Acrobatics (Dex)
[+1] Acrobatics (Dex)
[+1] Stealth (Dex)
[+1] Sleight of Hand (Dex)

[+3] Arcana (Int)
[+3] History (Int)
[+5] Investigation (Int)
[+3] Nature (Int)
[+3] Religion (Int)

[+0] Animal Handling (Wis)
[+2] Insight (Wis)
[+0] Medicine (Wis)
[+2] Perception (Wis)
[+2] Survival (Wis)

[+6] Deception (Cha)
[+4] Intimidation (Cha)
[+6] Performance (Cha)
[+6] Persuasion (Cha)  

---

The trees were a riot of fiery autumn colored leaves swaying in the breeze, and the air was crisp and cool. Walking nonchalantly through the forest, Cordelia kicked up fallen leaves as she went. She was lost in thought, contemplating the meeting with the mage contact that awaited her at the end of her journey. Being an experienced traveller, insect casualties were a daily occurrence and so she didn't pay much mind when she felt the crunch of a shelled critter beneath her boot.

It was only when she suddenly came across a group of five strangers that she was pulled from her train of thought. It was a strange, unsettling coincidence that they had all arrived from different directions but converged on the same spot at the same time. She had double and triple checked her map, and was certain that there was only one path leading to the destination she was heading. She hadn't even heard or seen their approach. Yet, there they all stood, as surprised as she was by the encounter as they exchanged silent, wary glances.

A short distance away, she spotted a lord's manor, whose bricks looked to have blood dripping through the lines of mortar. Her eyes squinted and her heart raced as she tried to comprehend if what she was seeing was indeed real or figment of her imagination. She was terrified by what she saw and felt a tightness form in her throat making it hard to swallow.

Despite being startled and feeling uneasy, she approached the group with kindness in her eyes. The man with long raven hair and pale eyes, adorned in fine clothing spoke first, ''Greetings. My name is Cordelia, I'm in search of a mage in regards to a business related affair.''  She bowed her head respectfully as she spoke. Her voice was shaky and she held her hands clasped tightly together at her front. It was both a way to keep her composure, and to show that she was unarmed. She did not feel that they were hostile, but experience told her that one false movement could potentially lead things that direction.

Seeing the man head towards the door of the manor, Cordelia reflexively broke her posture and reached a hand out towards him as a feeble attempt to halt him from going further, ''Wait!'' she urged, her fearful eyes were wide and unblinking, couldn't he see the massive amounts of crimson covering the facade of the building? ''What are you doing!? Why do you dare go inside a building that is soaked in blood? Do you not find it the least bit strange?'' she asked.

Edited May 9, 2023 by Karma Kameleon (see edit history)

[ariel]

---

Dalin Ghillison

AC: 14 | HP: 46/46 | Rages: 3/3  | Passive Perception: 12 

---

A female hill dwarf strode down the path, using a quarterstaff as a walking stick. She was dressed in well-worn and functional layers of heavy brown cloth, patched with leather at the knees and elbows. She bore a tidy pack with the typical encumbrances of someone comfortable with travel - bedroll, rope and shield. An astute person might see a small field mouse perched on top of the pack, nestled into a curve of the bedroll.

 

Outside of the mouse, there was very little remarkable about this hill dwarf, except for the colour of her hair. Despite the dwarf's obvious youth and good health, it was a stark snowy white and contrasted dramatically against the darker shade of her skin. Currently, her hair was piled into a loose nest-like structure on top of her head with a few small decorated braids falling down on either side of her face and getting slightly entangled with some dangling ear piercings.

 

Her lopsided grin caved slightly as the dwarf approached the scene. She looked back several times at the path she'd just travelled and then around into the trees with a puzzled expression. Muttering, "Tain't natural... better get back, Bonnie." She waved her free hand toward the mouse and the wee creature turned and burrowed deep into the bedroll.

 

Chin up, striding forward again, the dwarf struggled to maintain her smile. Only a ghost of it remained as she reached the others. She spoke out, "Aye, me too. I'm Dalin and here to get some kind of trinket for some kind of mage."

 

She looked at the others with open consideration. Not judging, but somehow expectant. "Are one of you that mage? There was some kind of trickery in the path getting here... and I'm right sure I don't like it much." 

 

"And, as for this", Dalin gestered toward the building with her quarterstaff. "I don't see any blood, but I see the funeral bier. So, I'd like it if one you can tell me what's going on?" The dwarf's expression softened as her eyes flickered over the bier. "I'd really like to know..."

 

OOCA question for the DM... how familiar is the house that Dalin sees?

 

Edited May 10, 2023 by ariel (see edit history)

[Peacemonger]

Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

---

AC: 16 | HP: 26/26 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 13

---

Jozelle walks silently on on the path, even the leaves hardly making a sound beneath her. Dressed in the most modern style of the city, she wears clothes fit for a merchant or perhaps great thinker, tricorn hat to finish the ensemble. For such a style, the colors are muted are well-worn, easy to forget at first or even second glance. Jozelle keeps her head low as she walks, the slightest smile upon her lips as she silently hums a melody only she can hear. Pale blonde hair rolls out in its perfect imperfection, and equally pale brown eyes take in the sight nature on either side. 

She pauses, almost feeling the beetle beneath her boot before she steps fully. There's a moment as she weights the life beneath her before she lets the consideration draft away and the boot comes down.

I am of ember and endings. I am not the gentle hand that spares. Forgive me.

And yet mere moments later she glances back and it was as if she were. The smile grows a little. It is not the first time her sight and the truth have told different tales.

It is at the sight in front of her that she halts, and her eyes grow wide as the rest of her body relaxes, though the soft smile oddly remains. It is not the relaxation of comfort, but the calm before a strike, the readiness for something to come out from the shadows. Her breathing slows as her heart quickens. 

Her eyes drift over the others gathered, and listens as they speak. Only a keen eye will see her hand gently brush at the hilt of her ornate rapier before gliding off once more. Her head tilts ever to the side at Alban, and remains tilted as Dalin finishes her request. There is something comforting in the fear of the others, something calming in the distress of strangers. It helps to not be alone. 

Slowly, Jozelle's eyes narrow and she offers the slightest of sighs. She reaches to the side of her own pack and with a deft hand loosens an item strapped to the side, a lyre of all things. Pulling it close to chest she begins to pluck at it. "You all must be real then. My imagination cannot paint so much in so little time." Her voice is ephemeral and light, and has a song-like quality with the one-off notes piercing the moment. The playing seems to comfort the young, human woman, eases her nerves as she looks to Dalin. "If what we see does not make sense, then the problem must be with either eyes that do not see, or a mind that does not understand. Perhaps both." Another cord is plucked, and then another. She closes her eyes, as if listening for something in the breeze. "I am uncertain whether we are greeted with a gift or mockery, a serenade or requiem." Her eyes open once more.

"Jozelle. A pleasure."  

 

 

---

---

Mechanics Main Hand: Empty (Rapier at hip) Off Hand: Empty Action: - Bonus Action: - Move: - Manipulate: - HD: 3/3d8

 

 

[SunDuck]

Drench

---

STR: 12 (+1) | DEX: 16 (+3) | CON: 16 (+3) | INT: 10 (+0) | WIS: 14 (+2) | CHA: 8 (-1)

AC: 15 | HP: 29/29 | Initiative: +3  | Passive Perception: 12 | Passive Investigation: 10 | Passive Insight: 16

Darkvision: 60' ft. | Relentless Endurance: 1/1

 

---

 

His leather boots moved cautiously through the fallen autumn leaves. Business was usually handled with well-timed passes of parchment, quick glances across the tavern, and hastened etchings upon surfaces. A summons was something else entirely - something new, strange, and foreboding. Had someone found him? No. While it was possible, Drench had taken great care to hide his identity. The sudden pop of pressure releasing under his heel gave him pause. Perhaps it was a fallen pear, the fruit squelching between land and sole.

Careful, lest you roll an ankle; you are of no use lame.

Drench turned back around to make a mental note of the hazard - expecting to find a crushed fruit, splintered deadwood, or even a long-dead carcass. Nothing but a lowly beetle went across the path. Certainly, it was rather large, but it was very much alive. His brow furrowed in confusion as he moved to continue his trek. 

Was this truly the correct way? He knew there had been no mistake on his part, but maybe the directions given had been incorrect. A simple right instead of left could skew the entire journey. Judging by the sun shining through the trees, there was still daylight left. If he hadn't reached his destination by sundown, he would simply set up camp and turn back at first light.

And leave behind this opportunity? Certainly, if you're that selfish. What of your mother? Shall we leave her and your sisters to starve?

He tightly clenched his fists. No matter how he thought of the situation - there was no turning back. Mages were supposed to be all-powerful, were they not? Drench had witnessed with his own eyes the healing magick they possessed even the creation of fire with a flick of the wrist. Whatever this mage needed would be done and done well. This conviction led him forward before fear suddenly flooded into his chest, burning at his heart.

His mother's house. It was impossible. She lived leagues away - on the coast and not in the middle of these autumn woods. Drench fought against all urges to run toward the home as his stomach churned at the sight of water and blood erupting from the doorframe. Unknown voices grounded him at that moment, their own fear and uncertainty tinging their introductions. He exhaled deeply before looking upon their faces. Two humans, a half-elf, and a dwarf stood on either side of him. How had he not heard their approach? How was it that they had all convened at the same time in front of this house - his mother's house? No, a funeral bier... Was this magick? Drench looked over the group, studying their features. Two of the women had mentioned a mage which couldn't entirely be a coincidence. He looked back out at the house before sliding off his pack and gathering from inside a piece of parchment and pen.

"Looking for mage too. This trick?"

Drench's hands shook as he wrote, still not used to writing and listening at the same time. His penmanship left much to be desired, but he hoped they could read his chicken-scratch as he held up the parchment for the strangers to see.

 

 

Edited May 10, 2023 by SunDuck (see edit history)

[Mild Scribe]

Alyssia - Paladin of Mosheach 

---

Another day, another step down the road. If one were to count all the days of Alyssia's life, those spent going from one place to the next would surely out number all the rest, perhaps even combined. Alyssia had never counted them though so she could not be sure, but it seemed to her it must be so. It was not the road that bothered though, all her troubles had always come when she reached the road's end. Or before she started it up again. 

Lost in her musings Alyssia was slow to notice the change in the path. Wait how did she get here, and where was she? She had been seeking her next employer, one who claimed to have a lead to an item of great interest to her. Why couldn't she recall the name? Who were these others all of a sudden. And what was that tower?

No. No that could not be. She had been going nowhere near Thornwood of that she was sure. Nor would she have ever agreed to seek anyone in such a place. Castle Thornwood was forsaken ground now, Redeemer shelter its ghosts and send them on their way. Alyssia silently prayed the prayer she so often did and felt a measure of reassurance flow through her. 

That done Alyssia considered the others. An odd assortment this, she had to wonder what sort of impression she gave clad all in plate with a tall sword hanging on her back. These others did not seem as heavily armed, but that was no guarantee of safety even if they were all as they appeared to be. Alyssia's hand itched to draw her blade but she forced it still, she would not start a fight without cause. More then one of them seemed to be looking for the wizard. Were they real then, or more figments of this strangeness? Taking a deep breath Alyssia reached out feeling the light within her and casting it about looking to see if anything cast a shadow.

---

OOC

Using Divine Sense Paladin ability 1/4.

 

[PureChance]

Alban Lord Stuart - Human Shadow Sorcerer 

---

AC: 14  | HP: 27/27 | Initiative: +4 | Passive Perception: 11 (Darkvision 120ft) | HD: 3/3 | Inspiration 0/1 

---

"What blood?" Alban replies with confusion before the others chime in. Differing visions each it seems. Alban relaxes at the knowledge - it must be phantasm. This was more familiar territory for the sorcerer, though disconcerting to be on the other side. Perhaps the mage did not know of his past at all, and the vision was plucked from his subconcious. He sees the scratched writing of the half-orc, mirroring the questions of the dwarf.

 

"A mockery I'd say, rather than a gift." Alban speaks out. "One that does not bode well for fair trade with this mage. It is not I that summoned us here, and judging by your words it is neither the beauty, the dwarf, or the orc. Mages do not usually bear such heavy armour," he continues, gesturing to the paladin resplendent in her silver, "so that leaves the bard with her riddles, or someone yet to make their presence known." The last seems directed at the gnarled trees around the clearing, Alban's eyes seeking answers in the autumn leaves. "Well?" he calls out with thinly veiled irritation "We are here at your pleasure!"

---

Stat Block

Imperial (variant) Human Sorcerer 3

Languages Common, Elven

Background Noble Background Feature Position of PrivilegeThanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The common folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.

---

 StrSave +0
Athletics +0 11 DexSave +4
Acrobatics +4 | Sleight of Hand +4 | Stealth +6* 18 ConSave +5*
No skills associated. 16 IntSave +1
Arcana +3* | History +3* | Investigation +1 | Nature +1 | Religion +1 12 WisSave +1
Animal Handling +1 | Insight +1 | Medicine +1 | Perception +1 | Survival +1 12 ChaSave +6*
Deception +6* | Intimidation +4 | Performance +4 | Persuasion +6* 19

Proficiency Bonus +2 Saving Throws Con, Cha

Speed 30

Tools Calligrapher's Tools

Spell Attack Bonus +6 | Spell Save DC 14 | Spell Slots L1 4/4 ; L2 2/2

Sorcery PointsSubtle Spell - 1 point
Extended Spell - 1 point 3/3

---

Actions

• Dagger +6 to hit for [1d4+4] piercing damage | Light, Finesse, Thrown 20/60
• Light Crossbow +6 to hit for [1d8+4] piercing damage | Loading, Two-handed, 80/320
• Mind Sliver DC14 INT Sv for [1d6] psychic damage | V, one creature, 60ft | -1d4 next saving throw
• Frostbite DC14 CON Sv for [1d6] cold damage | VS, one creature, 60ft | disadvantage next weapon attack roll

Bonus Actions

Reactions

• ShieldAn invisible barrier of magical force appears and protects you. Until the start of your next turn, you have a +5 bonus to AC, including against the triggering attack, and you take no damage from magic missile. [Hit by an attack / targeted by Magic Missile]

 

[Karma Kameleon]

 

Str	Dex	Con	Int	Wis	Cha
9	12	13	16	10	18
(-1)	(+1)	(+1)	(+3)	(+0)	(+4)

Skill Proficiencies[-1] Athletics (Str)

[+1] Acrobatics (Dex)
[+1] Acrobatics (Dex)
[+1] Stealth (Dex)
[+1] Sleight of Hand (Dex)

[+3] Arcana (Int)
[+3] History (Int)
[+5] Investigation (Int)
[+3] Nature (Int)
[+3] Religion (Int)

[+0] Animal Handling (Wis)
[+2] Insight (Wis)
[+0] Medicine (Wis)
[+2] Perception (Wis)
[+2] Survival (Wis)

[+6] Deception (Cha)
[+4] Intimidation (Cha)
[+6] Performance (Cha)
[+6] Persuasion (Cha)
 

---

Normally, Cordelia would have fled the instant she laid eyes on the bloodied facade of the building. But, the presence of the 5 strangers, all seemingly in the same situation as herself, reassured her enough that she remained feet planted firmly in place. With the majority of those present mentioning the summons of a mysterious mage with no name, Cordelia thought it was a safe assumption that they had all been assembled to work as a rag-tag group. Scanning the group, a pit formed in her stomach, some of the members looked like experienced fighters, others looked tough and others powerful. She suddenly felt out of her league, like perhaps their task would be dangerous and she would not be cut out for it. She shook the negative thoughts away and focused on the present situation instead.

Realizing that her what her eyes had seen was only but a vision unique to her gave her a sense of relief. It seemed she was not the only one seeing things as Dalin mentioned seeing a funeral Bier that she could not see herself. Cordelia nodded in accordance with Jozelle and Alban's comments, even managing a soft smile towards the man when he graced her with flattery, ''Whatever it may be, I recommend we proceed with caution, for everything is not what it seems.'' she took a pause, waiting to see if Alban's call would be answered, ''I must admit I am most curious about this mage, whomever he or she may be, it is clear that they are of high standing. This manor is one only befitting of a lord.'' she said in a matter of fact tone. ''Let us try a more civilized and well mannered approach before barging in.''

Cordelia stepped a few feet away from the door to the manor, a distance where she felt would be safe enough and invited the others to join her, ''Best not stand too close. With all the trickery, this could be a trap.''  They didn't know what awaited them inside after all. Lifting a finger, she gestured towards the door, at that same moment a spectral hand materialized and hovered above the door knocker. The hand mimicked her hand movements perfectly and lifted the handle and knocked three times.

OOCCordelia will use mage hand to knock on the door to the manor.

Edited May 10, 2023 by Karma Kameleon (see edit history)

[Whitleyrr]

OOC - ChecksAlban and Cordelia, roll me a Knowledge (Arcana) check, with advantage, DC 15.

 

[ariel]

---

Dalin Ghillison

AC: 14 | HP: 46/46 | Rages: 3/3  | Passive Perception: 12 

---

Dalin's grin returned. "I knew it! Nothing but magic smoke here." She took a moment to eyeball the people standing around her. Fancy talkers and no-talkers. Could be real interesting.

 

First, to the music maker, "Jozelle was it? Nice to meet ya. I can't dance worth a lick, but I love trying. It'd be great to hear you play for real once we figure out what's goin' on around here. I'll buy you an ale if you play me a jig." She nodded with some enthusiasm.

 

She then looked at the auburn-haired half-elf and nodded to acknowledge her advice. "Cordelia... pretty name for a pretty lady. You got some magic yourself I see."

 

Finally, to the orc, "Can you talk? Or just taken some kind of vow? Or... just shy?" She winked, letting him know it was a simple jest. "What's your name?"

 

And, what's everyone else called? If we're in this together, might as well know what to yell if things go south." 

The dwarf hefted her walking stick and moved toward the perceived funeral bier outside of the house.  "As for me, I see a funeral bier... right here." And, she reached out with her stick to tap it, now fully expecting the heavy staff to sail through it.

 

Edited May 10, 2023 by ariel (see edit history)

[Peacemonger]

Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

---

AC: 16 | HP: 26/26 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 13

---

Jozelle takes in the Half-Orc, most curious in that he wrote his words instead of spoke them. If he didn't speak the same language, surely he could not write it. No, almost certainly something wrong with his voice.

So tragic not to add one's voice to the song. So liberating to not have to join the choir at all.

She quirks her head once more towards the nobleman. She continues to pluck random chords that give an almost haunting non-tune. Clearly she knows how to play the instrument, the notes ring clear and true. However, it is likely not the time for a song, if she even wants to play one.

To Dalin and her offer, Jozelle gives a solemn nod and the subtle smile on her face grows to be just a little genuine. "Very well." She glances to the nobleman. "I am not the mage. I too was drawn here by a simple task. I too find myself... troubled." She chooses not to say what she sees. Jozelle, paces a little bit around the others, somewhat following the advice of Cordelia to not stand too close, mostly the part about standing still and less about having distance. Those she moves by can catch the scent of river and honey.  

Six people are too many for a mere trinket. To work with others... to walk among them, speak with them, serve with them... should I smile or weep? Should I feel honored or hurt?

Jozelle is on the shorter end of a human, and on the thinner side as well. She looks delicate, fragile even among several of those gathered. Her gaze drifts from those gathered to the trees around towards the ominous door that appears different to each of them. 

 

---

---

Mechanics Main Hand: Lyre Off Hand: Lyre Action: Perception, looking for any sign of danger Bonus Action: - Move: - Manipulate: - HD: 3/3d8

 

 

[Mild Scribe]

Alyssia - Paladin of Mosheach 

---

The reassuring warmth of the Redeemer filled Alyssia but there was no shadow cast upon it. This was most likely mortal magic then? Alyssia wished she could be sure of more then that, she'd dealt with magic users in her years as a mercenary but their ways were still opaque to her. Study had never been a strong suit of hers and only since joining the order had it even been much of an option for her. She had her letters and the basic tenets but little else. Still the order taught that the malice of men was rarely as ill as it seemed at first, perhaps this some sort of test? If so that seemed an ill way to do business, but people with power loved their games and a dangerous task required those who didn't flee at the first difficulty. 

"Everyone! A moment." She said speaking for the first time, "Since I gather you are not all seeing a castle tower this must be some illusion, but our host seems to be no mood to give up the game that easily. Thus I will go forward,"

If they came with her it would be safer for everyone, if not Alyssia would try to send word after she was through this maze. Oh wait she'd forgotten an introduction.

"You may call my Alyssia, I have no other name."

With that Alyssia went forward to the entrance of the fake tower, eyes and ears alert with a hand upon her sword just in case. 

---

[SunDuck]

Drench

---

STR: 12 (+1) | DEX: 16 (+3) | CON: 16 (+3) | INT: 10 (+0) | WIS: 14 (+2) | CHA: 8 (-1)

AC: 15 | HP: 29/29 | Initiative: +3  | Passive Perception: 12 | Passive Investigation: 10 | Passive Insight: 16

Darkvision: 60' ft. | Relentless Endurance: 1/1

---

 

Drench observed Dalin, unamused by the jest. If not in this situation, he may have offered up a slight smile in return - a soothing gesture to put those made uncomfortable by his malady at ease. This woman did not appear to be one of these people, but her joke lacked originality all the same. Though she had asked for his name, Drench did not release it. Despite her seemingly calm demeanor, there was something larger at play here that required his attention.

Each individual seemed to be treading the same course - summoned by an anonymous mage to the middle of the wood. Judging by their words, they were all seeing something different and incredibly wrong. His cold blue eyes watched as one of the women approached the building, her hair imitating the autumn leaves around them.

No, don't!

She stopped and for a moment Drench had the dreadful feeling that she could read his thoughts; however, describing the building as a manor reassured him that she had not. The coastal cottage he saw could hardly be described as manorly. This reassurance did nothing to assuage the fear that prickled the nape of his neck, nor did the sudden soft scent of honey and river. Drench bristled, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of a dagger tucked within his belt. Foolish idiot, you allowed the singer to slip behind you. He watched the ground, focusing on the sound of her boot steps and only releasing his grip after they had passed.

Drench forced himself to exhale softly. If these people meant to do him harm, he was easily outnumbered and they certainly would have by now. The half-elf clad in armor suddenly spoke, her voice ringing with authority and confidence. He focused on the silver medallion adorning her neck and felt warmth spread through his body. One of the Redeemer's own was among their number. Drench was grateful. As Alyssia stepped forward, his hand was once again on the hilt of a blade. This time it was not out of fear but solidarity. Wherever this woman went, Drench would follow.

---

OOC - PerceptionLooking for anything in front of Alyssia
Listening for anything surrounding the group.

Edited May 10, 2023 by SunDuck (see edit history)

[PureChance]

Alban Lord Stuart - Human Shadow Sorcerer 

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AC: 14  | HP: 27/27 | Initiative: +4 | Passive Perception: 11 (Darkvision 120ft) | HD: 3/3 | Inspiration 0/1 

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Alban watches carefully as the lady - Cordelia - approaches the illusion only she can see. An eyebrow quirks as he sees a quick twist of her hand bring into being a spectral copy. A common trick indeed, but a useful one. One he has been considering learning himself in fact. Perhaps he can take advice from a fellow practitioner. Certainly she has elevated herself in his perception to carry some intellectual interest beyond that of just another conquest. How will the matter interact he wonders, as the magic approaches Cordelia's door, and his empty entrance?

 

"Lord Stuart," he absently replies to the dwarfs inquiry, "Alban that is" he adds turning his full attention her way and adding a glowing smile as he does. Wouldn't do to be rude to the peasantry if they held their station. Especially to one so stout, and behind whom he may need to find shelter in the coming future.

 

He straightens, projecting his voice over Dalin's head towards their knight in shining armour. "Hold that moment if you will, brave Alyssia - let us not venture into the breach unarmed. I have what you might call a passing familiarity with such mental trickery that may allow a little unravelling here..." He paces round the mirage, noting the effects of the staff, the hand, the approach in turn. 'If I were to entrap so many minds...' he thinks to himself before stopping with a smirk. 'So elegant!'

 

"And if I may yet steal your moment longer fair Alyssia?" he asks, before turning to the gathering with absolute assurance in his wish being granted. "I beg your attention," he starts, ensuring to make eye contact with each member of the party, lingering a little longer on Cordelia, "For I believe what we are seeing is such..."

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Stat Block

Imperial (variant) Human Sorcerer 3

Languages Common, Elven

Background Noble Background Feature Position of PrivilegeThanks to your noble birth, people are inclined to think the best of you. You are welcome in high society, and people assume you have the right to be wherever you are. The common folk make every effort to accommodate you and avoid your displeasure, and other people of high birth treat you as a member of the same social sphere. You can secure an audience with a local noble if you need to.

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 StrSave +0
Athletics +0 11 DexSave +4
Acrobatics +4 | Sleight of Hand +4 | Stealth +6* 18 ConSave +5*
No skills associated. 16 IntSave +1
Arcana +3* | History +3* | Investigation +1 | Nature +1 | Religion +1 12 WisSave +1
Animal Handling +1 | Insight +1 | Medicine +1 | Perception +1 | Survival +1 12 ChaSave +6*
Deception +6* | Intimidation +4 | Performance +4 | Persuasion +6* 19

Proficiency Bonus +2 Saving Throws Con, Cha

Speed 30

Tools Calligrapher's Tools

Spell Attack Bonus +6 | Spell Save DC 14 | Spell Slots L1 4/4 ; L2 2/2

Sorcery PointsSubtle Spell - 1 point
Extended Spell - 1 point 3/3

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Actions

• Dagger +6 to hit for [1d4+4] piercing damage | Light, Finesse, Thrown 20/60
• Light Crossbow +6 to hit for [1d8+4] piercing damage | Loading, Two-handed, 80/320
• Mind Sliver DC14 INT Sv for [1d6] psychic damage | V, one creature, 60ft | -1d4 next saving throw
• Frostbite DC14 CON Sv for [1d6] cold damage | VS, one creature, 60ft | disadvantage next weapon attack roll

Bonus Actions

Reactions

• ShieldAn invisible barrier of magical force appears and protects you. Until the start of your next turn, you have a +5 bonus to AC, including against the triggering attack, and you take no damage from magic missile. [Hit by an attack / targeted by Magic Missile]

 

Edited May 10, 2023 by PureChance (see edit history)