OOC:  Nothing there.

I'll post in the game later on tonight.

Replies in posts above.

Current situation:

The raven that was carrying something about the size of a man's finger has been shot down and is dead.  Whatever it was carrying fell about 10 yards from where it fell.

Drake killed the halfling who attacked him.

The horses from the wagon have been set free, and one of them is being attacked by rats while the other is with the wagon, but not connected to it.

Rats still run about the place, but they seem more interested in the horse and rushing to devour the raven and whatever it held in its talons than in your boots for now.

Drake is briefly taken back that the halfling is a female, but that doesn't make her any less of a threat. He wipes his blade with her own clothes and steps into the back of the wagon to inspect the situation and to see if he could tell what she had been doing as the wagon sped off.

Drake looks to the others by and on the wagon, "Search these two" pointing to the driver and the halfling, "They may have something on them to let the mayor know who did this"

=======================================

FROM DM:

The only member of the mayor's guards who is still near where the wagon was nods once, and looks through the bodies of the driver and the halfling.


He tosses down the following from the body of the halfling:  Two silvered daggers and their sheaths, a silver ring with a garnet in it, a light crossbow with 8 bolts, a leather pouch with some coins in it (5 GPs and 18 SPs) and two small vials.  One's empty.  Has the stopper off it.  Some sort of oil was in it, I think.  The other has a light blue liquid in it which is as thin as water.

From the body of the driver, the tall man tosses down the following:  A golden ring (probably a wedding ring), a short sword, a dagger, and a leather pouch with the following in it (a small ruby worth 50 GPs, 3 GPs, and 16 SPs).
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:53, Sun 06 Aug 2006.

As he noticed the rats swarming towards the raven, and the thing it had dropped, Elodeir silently cursed.  If it should turn out to be important, he could hardly let the rats just eat it, after all.  So, he leaped off the wagon and ran as quickly as he could through the rats, hoping to get to the downed bird before the rats did.

Since she's right there on the wagon, Amylarn follows the directions of the young man in black. She begins with the wagon driver and then the halfling woman.

10:40, Today: Amylarn rolled 16 using 1d20+7. Search the halfling.
10:40, Today: Amylarn rolled 21 using 1d20+7. Search the wagon driver.

OOC: D'oh!  Should have read all the posts before I posted!  See my reply in Drake's post above.

Amylarn helps the guard to make sure he finds everything.

She turns both bodies over to see, and discovers a third dagger tucked in the back of the halfling's leather straps.  This one is idential to the other two.

She also notices that halfling has a tattoo on her back on her left shoulder blade.

Wishing she could help out more with the animals Bethany runs over and does her best to slash and kick at the rodents to create a small path for her to get to the horse.  When she is near she will gently slap the mount on the hind side in hopes that it will take off charging before she goes back to tend to helping out her co-workers.

OOC: Will try her best to get the horse out of the rats that are after it.  Slapping it on its rump should startle it enough to bolt faster then the rats I hope, then i will try my best to rejoin the others near the wagons.

Bethany helps the horse a great deal, and the animal races out of the cemetery with only 2 or so rats on it by the time it leaves.  It should be able to shake them off.

Bethany angers the rats (or it seems that way to her), and some of them leap up and bite her.  Others swarm around her feet and legs, nipping as they do.

Bethany: Take 3 points of damage.

Elodeir runs and sees the rats ripping into the body of the raven, spreading its blood all over themselves.

He can not yet see whatever the bird dropped from its talons, though.

Elodeir Nightjewel:  Give me a Search check, DC 14.  You can opt to "take 10" on the chance, but doing so will cause the rats to climb up your feet and ankles and you will take 1 point of damage.

You can also "take 20", making the check easily, and taking 3 points of damage from the rats.

03:55, Today: Elodeir Nightjewel rolled 6 using 1d20+1. Search.

So much for hoping to get it done without taking damage.  :P  Is it too late to take 20 and the 3 damage?

OOC: Yup, too late.  You have to declare taking 10 or 20 at the start of the attempt, not after flubbing it.

=============================================

The rats rush about, now mostly running in no real pattern.  Some of them head out of the cemetery, some congregate on tombstones, some rush into crypts, and a few scamper into the pyre.

You see a grisly sight: the body of the old guard who wanted to stand with you (and command you) has been chewed over mercilessly by many of the rats.  His eyes, nose, lips, and ears have all been eaten away.

Harann and Father Garrik stand at the wagon and look over the bodies of the driver and the halfling.

Harann grunts Humph.  Nilos Thungren.  He's got a wife and two kids.  Now what the hells could have caused him to go all batty?

Never seen that halfling wench before, though.  From out of town.

Pulling at his drooping moustache, he spies the tattoo and shows it to Garrik.

The silver-haired priest of Lathander looks around the back of the wagon.

The body!  GONE!  I...I can't imagaine how...

Harann grunts again and points to the tattoo.  Garrik, I know the Silent Slayer had a lot of marking on his body.  And I'd bet a steak dinner he had that one on his shoulder just as this halfling does, too.

Still frazzled by the loss of the body, the priest looks at the tattoo and nods, but says nothing.

Radcliffe comes to stand next to Harann and assures him that you all did your best to protect the body, to which the tall man grunts a third time, but he says nothing.

The dark expression on his face speaks well enough of what he thinks of the job you did.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:40, Tue 08 Aug 2006.

OOC: Combat is over, so to allow for better RPing, well say the party members gather around the wagon, Harann, and Father Garrik.

Harann:

Father Garrik of Lathander:

"Part of the body, a finger or somesuch has been eaten by the rats. It will require powerful magic to raise this killer. Who would have that kind of power?" Denira asks

Drake assumes the "dead" killer and the little halfling were in the same guild or like group.  He moves over to the possessions and sheaths his sword, but then pulls out a sabre and moves closer, ignoring the others. He does realize that those in charge are not happy, but hopes some payment is coming for their efforts.

Father Garrik, still bothered by the loss of the Silent Slayer's body, answers Denira's question softly.  Only me, so far as I know.  That is, in this town.

Harann grunts and interjects What about that cult?  I know they're just a rumor, but you never know, eh Padre?

Garrik shakes his head slowly.  I...I don't know.  I wouldn't think they're real.  More like tavern tales.

Radcliffe says with a somber tone Gentlemen, all tavern tales have some shred of truth at their middle, even if it a small one.  And in this case, I feel the shred is a bit more than that.

I have heard from several people I trust that they fear the cult is very real.

Harann stands in front of the bard, his head held high, looking down his nose at the shorter half-elf, his anger rising in his voice.

Well Gods, man!  Why did you not come to me or the captain of the mayor's guards with these stories.

Radcliffe sniffs <aqua>I did.  You tut-tutted me away.  The captain was a bit too drunk when I told him, and I fear he forgot.

The grunt from Harann is his loudest so far.

Denira completely phased out when she noticed Horsts mangled corpse nearby and felt more than a little guilty about sending him on his way although she was still sure it was the correct action at the time.
To take her mind off of the disturbing thought she drew out her wand and expended a charge, looking for magic items among the fallen and concentrating to attune herself to their auras should any be found.

OOC: Using wand of Detect Magic. If I detect any magical auras tell me how many Spellcraft checks I have to make to determine their type.

===================================

PM from the DM:
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:18, Fri 11 Aug 2006.

Amylarn had grown quiet as she stood nearby. Close enough to hear and see what was going on but far enough not to get in the way. The blonde girl was not officially supposed to be there so better if she is not noticed for the moment. She had been sorely tempted to take that third silver dagger with her when she found it but those gathered near might have seen that and seeing as how she has not official reason for being there that could have had ill consequences.

So Amylarn just listens and watches everyone in the area trying to spy out any recognizable faces.

Things quiet down, and it is established that the Silent Slayer's body is gone.

The cemetery clears out and while it is too much to say things return to normal, there is no more danger in the cemetery.

Harann looks gravely at all of you, then nods.

You all did good work in light of things.

I don't know that I can pay you the full price offered, but I can offer this:

He gives each of you 35 gold pieces and wishes you well.

OOC:

Amylarn needs to join the group officially, and then we'll move on to the next stage of the adventure.

Drake finally comes back to join the conversation before everyone goes their own way. He goes up to Harann and the others,

Before the driver died he told me that he was "proud to die for Jerg....". He obviously didn't finish, but I did not know if that meant something to you.

Drake is happy to hear he will get some payment.  The price may seem small to most adventurers, but he has not had that kind of gold in his pocket for months.

Elodeir accepted his sum of gold, and while he wasn't exactly smiling, he was happy about it still - he wasn't used to those amounts of gold, after all.  Thinking that he should spend them well, he still wished he could have done more.  "Jerg?  That doesn't sound like a normal name...  Wait...  Jerg... Jergal?  Could that have been it?  He's that god of death, right?" he offered, being far from learned on religion, though he still recognized the name of one such as he.

Picking the bag from the man who hired her and the traveling companions she places it in her pack and shrugs.  What was there a reward for she thought to herself.  Looking to the strange person that didnt start the tour with her and her friends she taps a few of the others on the side or shoulder or what ever she can reach and points over to the girl.  Who is that, she was here and if memory serves me, she did help us a bit.

Bending over one of the dead bodies she attempts to give it a proper burial and kicks a few clumps of fecal covered dirt onto the body and sheaths her sword.

At the mention of "Jergal" by Elodeir, Father Garrik's brow furrows.

He turns to Elodeir and says quietly Yes, Jergal...Lord of the end of everything, the one with no pity.  An evil god, lesser than some of the other evil ones, but still, one with a following, so one that needs to be watched.

Most of his worshipers are scribes, and I can't imagine at all this fellow was a serious worshipper.  But then again, stranger things have been seen on Toril.

The jingle of gold coins brought a smile to Amylarn's lips and she stepped forward at the first lull in the conversation, "Aye that, priest. Strange things indeed, not the least of which would be a band of outlaws causing most of the commotion today." She nods in agreement with herself and actually sounds cheery about the whole thing. "Mmmhmm. Outlaws. At least a dozen of them. There and there and over there and all over. I recognized them and so obviously I went to try and notify the proper authorities. Yes I did. But alas, a plain looking young woman such as myself could only hope to try and avoid her own impending death. Making notice to persons of importance was simply beyond my abilities."

The chatty girl sighs and shakes her head. "So I found myself standing nearby the brave and strong guardsmen of the villain's dead body, that would be your four, and got caught up in the imperative instructions of the graceful man in black," She points at Drake with a smile, "and did as he told me to search the evil halfing girl and her companion. And when I found that third silver dagger and then that wicked tattoo on her I knew I was in the presence of important people and so clearly I must stay nearby to offer my meager assistance because what sort of citizen would I be if I simply disappeared into the crowd with that kind of knowledge?" Amy finally took a breath and it appeared she was done.

"Oh and the brave thing you did for that poor poor horse." Amylarn turned to Bethany and started in again, "Wherever did you learn such compassion and command? And, if I may say so, this outfit you wear is so wonderfully organic and natural. I imagine you must spend a great deal of time in the wilds of the land. Oh it must be glorious an relaxing out there. Is it not? I am more of a city girl myself and so I wear lots of different fashions of the times and urbanites because those are my customers of course so it follows that I would try to show them off and as it turns out I know every third person you'll meet between the Dragonmere and the Giant's Run Mountains. And-HEY! She interrupts herself, "I bet the four of you need someone who knows their way around the city and the people here. And of course I will be deeply honored to volunteer my assistance to you." Amylarn looks to each of the hero's faces with a meaningful and optimistic expression. "Which one of you is in charge?"

OOC: We'll say Amylarn's introduction goes well and she is welcome to join the group.

----------------------------------------------------------

As the cemetery clears out, the group heads back to The Crying Lady Tavern.

Radcliffe follows a bit behind, talking here and there with townsfolk who were in the cemetery to get their perspective on what happened.


OOC: Posting about tavern, to remind you about The Crying Lady.


Nestled between two busy warehouses on the docks of Ilipur about two blocks south of the cemetery, The Crying Lady is a favorite of traveling adventurers, sailors, women of fallen virtues, and merchants who can not afford the higher-priced taverns in the richer section of the city.








The Crying Lady is that little grey/white square building on the docks, on the "south" side of the map.  The cemetery is about 2 blocks to the northeast of The Crying Lady.

The map is flipped, however, and the water should be to the "north".

The owner of the Crying Lady is no lady at all, but a massive half orc named Timmon.  He employs only half orcs or half elves, and each of them wear clothing that is two colored, each color split down the middle.

Today, for instance, Timmon wears a shirt that is red on one side, a deep purple on the other.

Timmon claims that only those who are half-breed can fully understand each other, and his staff (an ugly half-elven ex-pirate named Gilgrey who is the cook, a half orc cleaner and bouncer named Vurgrund, and two serving girls, Hildy and Simone, for first a half-orc with flowing dark hair and the latter a half elven lass of mystery with short raven-black hair) seem to agree.

Timmon:


Gilgrey:


Vurgrund:


Hildy:


Simone:


Hildy, the half-orc, greets you as you enter, shaking her head.


Nasty business there at the cemetery I heard.

And some folk came in needing drinks, saying how brave they thought you were.

First drink's on the house today.

We still have that squash stew, late season snapper in a tangy sauce, bass with a side of spiced potatoes, or chicken stuffed with bread pudding and gravy.

You remember that each meal costs 5 silver and comes with a glass of wine, mug of ale, or goats's milk.

She points to the round table near the lighted fireplace near a small stage where you say before.

Radcliffe, the tall half elven bard, comes in about 10 minutes after you do.

He walks to the bar, sits down heavily, as if bothered by something, and orders an ale.

Despite the mess in the cemetery, his skin is still perfectly clean and pristine, as if he has never set foot among the common people.

Radcliffe: