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Prologue: The Sinner’s Eye


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Dalien


Dalin Ghillison

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


Dalin was listening, but her focus was on the glass of wine. With short heavy fingers, she carefully took it by the stem, not wanting her warm hands to change its temperature. It might already be a touch warm, having been left out at room temperature for who knows how long. The mage was using a decanter, so it was probably already aerated, but she swirled it in the glass and carefully brought her nose fully into the cup to inhale. She mumbled to herself in dwarvish"Black currant.. no... red. Spice... pepper. Maybe a hint of... licorice?" , then swirled the wine again and held it up to the light to see evidence of the wine's clarity and content. Perhaps surprisingly, she then took a delicate sip and held it in her mouth a few seconds before swallowing. She looked into the glass and softly proclaimed. "Not bad."
 
Incongruently to her appearance and general mannerisms, she continued to take delicate and appreciative sips as the conversation continued. As the subject turned to the reward, she muttered. "Nae, I don't need to talk to ghosts, but the money..." 
 
And then, as Alyssa asked about the competion, Dalin added. "Aye, be good to know who we're up against, but it also sounds like you know who has this *Eye* now... so how about some details in that direction too?"
Edited by ariel (see edit history)
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Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

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


Slowly Jozelle begins to understand their would-be patron, or at the very least the man he claims to be. She can appreciate the curiosity for history having much ingrained in herself, all the better to glide between conversations and social rankings. She had thought perhaps it was a matter of trust of who he hired... and perhaps it is still... yet if he knew of the curious jewel, then others may know of it as well.

I do wonder... if this is where my talents might shine. 

She takes one last sip of the wine, savoring it. The taste is pleasant, the kind of wine that is not just a luxury, a boast of one's wealth. No, this is a wine for a person who wishes to enjoy it. It speaks volumes of whom has called for her.

As the others ask their questions directly, Jozelle refrains, unused to the idea to ask any more than what she's been given. It is Cordellia's question on the amulet being used for good that causes a slight eyebrow raises, but it quickly lowers. Once more she starts to pace, though this time without drawing her instrument out. 

Who would... my first ghost be? Whom would I speak with, to whom would I sin for?

 



Mechanics

Main Hand: - (Rapier at hip)
Off Hand: -


Action: -
Bonus Action: -
Move: -
Manipulate: -


HD: 3/3d8

     

 

 

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Cordelia was not completely satisfied with the mage’s answer, but it would suffice. With a nod of approval she replied, “Your intentions appear fair. With garnering a broader knowledge of our past comes wisdom. Shan’t we repeat the same trespasses but instead build a brighter future.”


Having handled a few hundred correspondences between lords across the land, Cordelia knew that most lords only sought more wealth, power and influence. Some were honest and honorable in their conquest, while others were cunning and deceitful. And some… were cruel and unforgiving. This led her to believe that Vincent was not the first person Alban had the intention of speaking to (if at all) when he asked to use the magical artifact. She couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he was like many of the nobles she once knew, but then again, he was all the way out here on his own which didn’t make much sense. Her eyes scanned him slowly, most nobles would have sent an underling to do their dirty work yet, here he was, sitting beside her. When her eyes locked with his matching icy blue regard, it caused her to look away, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, perhaps she was wrong and he wasn’t like the other nobles at all. Cordelia nodded along with his statement about their companions and shot him a soft approving smile, “Agreed.”

Cordelia couldn’t help but eye Dalin as she savored her wine and mumbled to herself, her lips curled up into a genuine smile Ah a connoisseur!  She thought to herself before whispering to the lass in her language Your palate is refined, I am impressed! Perhaps the licorice flavor is anise? I have to admit that you are making me regret my choice of drink. .


With her pressing questions answered, Cordelia relaxed and leaned back in her chair, holding her cup of tea in lap. She took a moment to observe Alistair’s home more closely and listened as the other women asked their questions. His home was almost museum worthy and she wished she could read some of the books on his shelves. It reminded her of her mentor’s home, which caused her to smile. Oh the tireless nights she spent reading while studying at the guild.


 

Edited by Karma Kameleon (see edit history)
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With visible relief, Alastair exhaled when Alban agreed to the hunt. “I knew I could count on you, Lord Stuart. My thanks.” Alyssia’s question gave him no pause at all, as he turned to her with a certain melancholy in his voice and said, “I know this may surprise you, Sir Alyssia, but my answer is true: my maternal grandmother.” He got a far away look across his face. “We were close and when she died, when she died I wasn’t there. It’s not so much that there are things left unsaid as it is the conversation never finished, if you can understand that difference.”

“As for who has the Eye now, I cannot say with certainty. What I can say is where it is: the village of Hethton. It’s so off the beaten path I can’t imagine how it turned up there unless it was, as I said, there for some time, a family heirloom of some sort, and only recently surfaced. When used or otherwise magically triggered, you see, it is like a bell tolling for those with ears to hear. I can’t know who else has heard it, but I can surmise that it has been heard. And those who seek it, the potentiality of them that is, that is what necessitates your employment. Does that help any, Dalin?”

Alastair glanced from companion to companion. “Are you all agreed then? You’ll go to Hethton and find the Eye? Once you find it, do not attempt to use it! Bring it here, and together, we’ll explore its possibilities. Here, by the way, may not be right here, per se, but I trust we’ll be able to find one another.  Drench, I’ll take your silence, when combined with your presence, that you’re an aye as well.” A sudden savory smell wafted through the room then, roast meat and vegetables, freshly baked bread, and something sweet. Their mouths began salivating. “Ah, dinner is served then. Would you join me? After our repast, you may pass the night here and in the morn may begin your journey to Hethton. Right this way!” He indicated a door that may or may not have been there before and walked through it. Regardless of whether it had been there before, most of the companions were certain that it led to a room not described by the dimensions of the house they had observed from the outside, but stranger things than these may yet descend upon them, and none so tasty as this meal smelled.

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SampleAlyssia - Paladin of Mosheach 


"That is a motivation I can sympathize with well enough, my own reasons for being here are similar,"

Whether Alyssia believed Alastair or not she didn't say, but ultimately she supposed it did not matter. Yet. The Redeemer taught that all things that could come to pass would come to pass eventually, which meant that the Sinner's Eye would be found sooner or later best it be sooner. An innocent little hamlet was no place to store a powerful item, especially one that might becoming active. She had heard stories, none of them good. And now that she knew of it she must check things out further regardless of being paid for her efforts or not, doing so with allies would be better. And if it worked as said well...

"I supposed I am agreed Wizard Alastair." her stomach growled, "to both your quest and to dinner."


Edited by Mild Scribe (see edit history)
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Alban Lord Stuart - Human Shadow Sorcerer Credit: KuraiGeijutsu

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


The alluring aromas summoned Alban through the door as well as any invitation from their host. The noble carelessly abandoned his teacup half-drunk on the oaken study table, such easy waste serving testament to his privileged upbringing for any who fought to make ends meet. What did serve to catch Alban's notice was the mage's casual use of dimensional magics, dispelling any doubt of their patron's power that yet remained. It was subtle manipulation, worthy of employ when he entertained his own guests Alban mused, and one easily mimicked less demanding trickery.

 

"I will take that offer of wine now, thank-you" he tells Alastair as they proceed to dinner, before claiming his seat on the right of the imposing head of the table. Before sitting, he graciously pulls out the solid darkwood chair to his left for whichever lady chose to accept the tacit invitation. He helps himself to the warm bread, tearing off a chunk and slathering it with rich butter, savouring each mouthful. 

 

"So tell me Dalin," he asks across the groaning table between bites, "I hadn't taken you for one to know your wines? Where do you hail from?" Alban sips his own carefully from crystal goblet, the dark red liquid staining his pale lips, entirely ignorant of any discomfort such imagery may produce in the wake of Alyssia's remembrance.

 

OOC

 

 


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]

 

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Dalien


Dalin Ghillison

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


Dalin had revealed her fullest lopsided grin when Cordelia addressed her in her own language and whispered back in kindAnise, might just be. It's a pretty good cup, nice bouquet, rich on the tongue. It'd go right well with this duck galintine I had the other night.. However, her attention was brought back to Kruthian when he asked if his information helped. "To be honest, it feels like you got a bit more in your head than you're saying out loud... kind of like this house. But I can understand not showing all your reasons up front and I'm curious where this road goes.
 
I got nowt else to be at the moment and a debt to pay, so I'm in." She grinned. "It helps that you're serving dinner."
 
The dwarf then carefully escorted her glass of wine to the table and took the middle seat, the one which afforded the best view of the food on offer. Her brow was creased, as she was planning what she would try first when Alban addressed her. She smiled at the gentlemen, unperturbed by his pale skin and stained lips.  "Me? I have a home, a wee village in the hills along the Dwarven Mountain Spine. No one ever heard of it. Me folks are there and friends, and I try to get back once a year. Right now, I'm from the road, working caravans mostly." A free hand reached up to touch the topmost piercing on her right ear. It was a small silver hoop, traced with the eternal mark of Teekond. 
 
She took the cloth napkin and laid it across her lap. It was obvious, Dalin took a meal very seriously. "There are many good things about life on the road. One of them... are the towns you get to see, and in those towns... are restaurants." She grinned again. "I always try to find the best places... sometimes fancy, sometimes a hole in the ground. What's important is the taste... the experience." She raised her glass high, then took a sip.
 
Dalin glanced at Kruthian, "You got a chef in here somewhere, or is this all magicked up?"
 
Returning her gaze to the group, "What about you all? Where are y'all from?" She waited a beat, then smiled. "... any restos to recommend?" Looking back at Alban, "You strike me as a man from the big city, are you from Glammer?"
Edited by ariel
grammar (see edit history)
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1 hour ago, ariel said:

Dalin glanced at Kruthian, "You got a chef in here somewhere, or is this all magicked up?"

Alastair's eyes sparkled, "I can't be giving away all my secrets now, can I?" He lifted a warm, browned roll from a basket (had that been there a moment ago?) and served it to himself with a dollop of butter.

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Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

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


It is Jozelle who takes Alban's offer. "Thank you. You are quite the gentleman." The words seems rehearsed, and yet rehearsed so well that it may as well have been true... or perhaps it is? The way she takes her seat is also practiced, and it's apparent that Alban is not the first man whom she's accept such a courtesy from. 

For Jozelle, her meal is a soup that's almost a broth with small pieces of meat, vegetables, and spices. A lighter meal to be sure, and one that she seems quite pleased with. "Cordelia." At first Jozelle only says the Half-Elf's name, and it's a good two seconds before she continues. "You walk an interesting path, speak life both servant and master, of one who's seen a great many things. It's most curious."

She takes a drink from her soup, and though it was harder to notice before, Jozelle sits with nigh perfect etiquette and posture. There's a softness to her as she looks to the other woman, a calm in her aura now.

 



Mechanics

Main Hand: - (Rapier at hip)
Off Hand: -


Action: -
Bonus Action: -
Move: -
Manipulate: -


HD: 3/3d8

     

 

 

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Dalin’s reply had Cordelia’s mouth salivating. She hadn’t thought about nourishing herself since early that morning and her stomach now grumbled in protest. Needless to say she was relieved and even excited about the prospect of food.

Cordelia was last to follow through the doorway and so she took the free seat to Alistair’s side, across the table from Alban and Jozelle. She was delighted by Dalin’s response to Alban’s question. It seemed they had similar nomadic lifestyles and found joy in the food and people they met along the way, “There is a quaint inn by the name of “Manoir de Provence” on the edge of the Dornelyan Forest that I love to stay at on my travels. No where else have I ever eaten such exquisite patisseries. They have the most luscious pillowy bread rolls, crispy and savory baguettes just perfect with a dollop of butter or jam, croissants with hundreds of flakey buttery layers, and Wildberry tartlettes who’s flavors dance a fine line between sweet and tart!” she exclaimed before sighing. She mirrored Dalin’s movements, delicately folding the napkin diagonally before placing it on her lap. “It is fortunate that I never stayed more than an evening or two, a bakery that is delicious is not good for any lady’s figure.” she joked with a chuckle.

When Jozelle called out her name, she smiled towards her patiently. She assumed the girl was mulling over her question before asking it, but it was more of a statement than a question, “My father is a low ranked inheritor in the Directors of Trade and Foreign Lands of Glammer. Having an incline for literature, and because of my status, I was able to pursue a career as a courier for the nobles dealings. I am grateful for a career path that has allowed me to travel all over this beautiful realm.” she paused, looking to Alistair she requested a cup of wine and cleared her throat before continuing. “Admittedly, I’ve left this career behind ever since the event I described to you all earlier. I no longer work for anyone but myself. I go where my heart decides, write my novels and poems, offer my services to the townsfolk in writing up contracts or even the odd love letter.” she finished with a gentle smile. “And you, are you a traveling musician and songstress? Perhaps we could play a song or two before the evening is through.”

Edited by Karma Kameleon (see edit history)
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Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

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


Jozelle listens and watches Cordelia with focus as she speaks. It's as if she's weighing the words, mulling them over. She takes another sip of her soup. "I do play an instrument and sing, I travel on occasion, and I would be delighted to perform with you."

Another sip.

"That is... not your question for me, is it? I believe you ask me what my vocation is, what it is a pride myself on? I suppose if we are to work together, perhaps fight alongside one another that you understand." Jozelle looks up, lost in contemplation. It's less that she's trying to hide something or even find the best way to say it. No, Jozelle struggles with how to describe something she's never had to before.

"My trade is murder. My hands are stained with crimson and azure, of blood and tears. I admit it is... curious to say the words aloud, but in a way it also puts me at ease to admit I can lash out with deathly intent at a moment's notice." 

...

Perhaps the words put Jozelle at ease, but maybe not others as much. There's no hint of jest or irony in her voice, nor is their pain and regret. She speaks as if she described her work like masonry or teaching. 

 



Mechanics

Main Hand: - (Rapier at hip)
Off Hand: -


Action: -
Bonus Action: -
Move: -
Manipulate: -


HD: 3/3d8

     

 

 

Edited by Peacemonger (see edit history)
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token_2(3).png.2701b28d4c9761b99ab439eda6f6fb4b.pngDrench


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


 

As Drench mustered the courage to touch the door, he felt his vision swim and his stomach churn. He squeezed his eyes tightly and felt the contents of the morning’s squirrel begin to lurch before settling. When the half-orc opened his eyes again, the visage before him had shifted. What had once been his mother’s home was now another - logged and decorated with flora. 

 

Drench straightened as the creak of the front door announced the arrival of his future employer.  His blue eyes searched the mage - not immediately impressed by what he saw. Though tall, thin, and timeless there was nothing spectacular about him, only the expensive rags which hung from his person.

 

He's mocking us.

 

Drench’s darkened face set into a grimace as he followed the others into the home. Despite the furnishings, he did not allow the mage to leave his sight. Though chairs were set around a center table, a clear invitation to sit as the raven lord demonstrated, Drench remained standing. With arms folded across his chest, he leaned against a column nestled between the various bookshelves and began to listen.

 

The name Kruthian was as unfamiliar as this so-called artifact. Surely Drench would have heard the tale of something this powerful. Whispers of treasures often reached him but not this ‘Sinner’s Eye.’ Kruthian was alluding to it being a dangerous expedition which would pale in comparison to his ruse. As he began to wonder would they could be in for, Dalin spoke up - addressing the mage with less decorum than the others. The corner of his mouth betrayed a small uptick. Perhaps taking comfort in Dalin’s boldness, the woman with auburn hair began to speak.

 

Her polite words seemed to be chosen carefully but there was honesty in them. Trust was paramount and he held none. The longer Drench thought about it, the more their individual visions resembled a vague threat: spurn me and the world shall know your truths. 

 

Drench found himself staring intently at the ground as his thoughts resurfaced to what the mage was saying. Was he implying that this ‘Sinner’s Eye’ could allow one to speak with the dead? It was true that he had often thought of speaking again with his father - to apologize for his foolish mistake - but what good could come from such a desire? The pain of being burned by curiosity settled deeply within his heart and Drench felt his teeth clench tightly around his tongue. Regret only intensified as the vision of his mother’s house was explained. 

 

It was the passing of Jozelle that snapped Drench out of his regrets. Despite himself, he had missed a large portion of the conversation. As he accepted his fate, Drench straightened and slid his hands into his pockets. The mention of 3,000 gold pieces sealed his agreement almost immediately - despite any hesitations and questions he had. 

 

Curse it all.

 

Drench slowly nodded as the mage addressed him - realizing now he had never provided his name. Declining the task would be foolish. Yes, he would be going after an artifact - but this was an amulet and not a box. They also knew what this amulet could do and the dangers that could lie within. This would not be the same. 

 

The smell of roast and vegetables greeted his senses then. With the procurement of an assignment, Drench felt himself relax and drift behind the group to the dining table as their shadow. No one seemed to make note of him and that was fine. Friendship was something he no longer expected, but coworkers were invaluable assets. Together they would get through this - of course, he would have to take the time to remember their names. Without hesitation, Drench sat to enjoy the meal - his eyes studying each new companion’s face and mannerisms.

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Alban Lord Stuart - Human Shadow Sorcerer Credit: KuraiGeijutsu

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


'Good graces with this one too' Alban noted as the doll-like Jozelle accepted his offer. 'Though not one of the few to offer deference when we first met.

 

"I'm afraid I'm rather new to travelling," he responds to Dalin and Cordelia "so don't have the same host of recommendations to draw upon. Though I'll take yours with pleasure." Pushing his bread aside side, he reaches over to serve himself from the steaming pork joint and cottage garden vegetable selection as it became apparent there would be no servants arriving to attend them. Clear juices pool on the cutting board as he slices free several thick cuts of the succulent meat with precision, carrying them over to his plate smoothly.

 

"Not from Glammer itself, no, though I've obviously visited a fair few times - both business and pleasure." he replies, thoroughly enjoying the delectable feast. "Our family's estate actually lies towards the north, nestled at the feet of the Dwarves Spine Mountains and the fringes of the Northern Wood. Full of pristine mountain air, though I can't begrudge too much the growing change in Glammer when so much our wealth now flows from  there, tributaries of the great House Sand river."

 

He continues to make surprisingly good progress through his plate, washing each carefully cut morsel down with free-flowing wine. "You say your father worked in the Trade Office?" he interrupts Cordelia, "What did you say your surname was? Or his name? Mayhap I've come across him, since such was largely my role in the family."

 

Jozelle's polite conversation doesn't interrupt his flow initially, blending well with the general patter of the table chatter. Her final words however crack his composure with their bluntness. The shifting hues of his robes flicker even as his silver knife cuts too deep and scrapes against the crockery below. The beauty of the description does not distract from the simple mundanity of her tone, and Alban hides his fluster behind his crystal goblet as he drains it in quick motion. It is lucky, he thinks as his racing heart settles slightly, that shock can no longer render him pale, else he would have been drained twice over today already. "Murder, you say," he explores, treading unfamiliar conversational ground "how... intriguing. None of us your customers I hope?" He remains tense as he ponders her earlier actions, her stalking behind the group with lyre in hand now assuming a menacing undertone. He tries to recount what ghosts he had left in his wake, acutely aware of how readily the assassin had accepted his offered chair. Though surely if she meant them ill she would not have announced her trade so, the rational part of his mind argued in vain, fighting to be heard against the rising sound of his power thrumming in his ears.

 

 

OOC

 

 


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]

 

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A familiar odor was wafting from the basket of bread that Alistair had pulled a bread roll from. It called to Cordelia and she answered, carefully lifting up the cloth covering, she pulled out a golden brown roll whose crust glistened slightly. She gave it a gentle squish, observing it as it sprung back into shape. Tearing the roll in half she lifted it to her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled. She lathered a half generously with butter and lifted it to her lips, taking a bite. Her eyes lit up with surprise as she was transported back to the Manoir de Provence. Could it be? No, how could it be possible?

“My father’s name is Lionel Nightshade.” she replied politely even though she knew Alban was likely more curious about where they both stood in their ranks more so than being genuinely curious. When it came to any sort of noble, it was almost always a contest of superiority. Which outranked the others - who had the most power. She dabbed her lips with the corner of her napkin before placing it neatly back into her lap, “He still holds his position for the Trade Office. As his only progeny, I am destined to inherit both his position and land with his passing. The time when I will be bound to my obligations and entrapped in the glorified cage of a manor will come eventually. For now, I choose to savor the pleasure of freedom in exploring everything the world has to offer.” she paused, taking a sip from her red wine, its color leaving a stain which intensified their rosiness. Something had struck her with Alban’s words, “Lord Stuart, you spoke in past tense when referring to working for the Trade Office, does this mean it is no longer your role? I admit I've rarely met a lord who dared leave their lands and manor, and so I wonder what brings you here all on your lonesome?” 
 

Jozelle’s response to her question about her line of work surprised her. It was definitely not what she had been expecting, yet she didn’t seem irked by it. And, if she was, her expression did not betray her true feelings. Cordelia couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to herself upon hearing Alban’s question to Jozelle. Having spoken so openly about her profession, Cordelia knew they needn’t be afraid of Jozelle - it would after all be counterproductive if assassin’s betrayed themselves to their targets, “As you can imagine, I’ve had to relay messages between nobles and those in your line of work on more than a few occasions, and am aware of the secrecy involved to protect one’s identity. So, I thank you for your honesty Jozelle - I am pleased that you felt that you could trust us with this sensitive information.” she paused, giving the girl a respectful bow of her head before taking another sip of her wine.

Her eyes scanned the petite woman before her. Her unassuming appearance likely made her a lethal assassin, “We are fortunate to have someone like you among us. I myself have only fought in self defense against wild creatures or the occasional bandit but have never personally taken a life - not directly anyway… So, even though your path is unconventional to say the least - your presence and particular skill set will no doubt be primordial to the success in our quest.” her gaze shifted towards the half-elf in silver plated armor. Raising her cup in cheers she addressed her, “The same also applies to you Alyssia, we are fortunate you have one such as yourself among us all.”

Edited by Karma Kameleon (see edit history)
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Jozelle - Human (Rogue/Monk)

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


Jozelle smiles back solemnly at Cordelia. "You hold a very generous heart to accept me. Please understand if I keep certain... songs unsung, poems unread, but I either say what I am now, or you all witness my talents upon the first foe we cross whether rival, bandit, or beast."

She turns her head to Lord Alban Stuart, her eyes strangely both taking on a bit of shine and dullness at the same time, as if both amused at the question and also showing her nature as well. "Rest assured, my sword points at not a one, for Alastair has asked us to be peaceful and not resort to violence, has he not?"

Jozelle realizes that perhaps claiming she isn't going to kill someone is what someone who is planning to commit the deed would say.

"If my intent were to harm you, good Lord Stuart, as but an example I'd come to you as a different person, paint a picture of innocence and intrigue, and I'd close the distance between us." It's then that her eyes open wider and her smile grows to one that is positively cheerful and shameless. Her voice becomes upbeat and flighty. "Oh, Lord Stuart you're so incorrigible and smart. I find myself flustered and embarrassed even speaking to a man of your station and if I dare may say, charm." She giggles like a carefree, naive, smitten young woman and lightly taps his shoulder as if playfully finding an excuse to get near him. 

She leans back and her smile fades, her eyes grow cool once more. "Should anyone else inquire about my skills on our journey, a traveling musician and duelist will suffice."

 



Mechanics

Main Hand: - (Rapier at hip)
Off Hand: -


Action: -
Bonus Action: -
Move: -
Manipulate: -


HD: 3/3d8

     

 

 

Edited by Peacemonger (see edit history)
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