Five days is enough time for Temple to have fully recovered from his injuries and then some, as well as patiently making sure that the wounds the others took in the depths heal cleanly and without scars (or with them, if the one with the injury feels that it's for the best)... It's enough time for him to have done a little 'work' for his landlords, to have done a little work at the training grounds and - last night - to have dropped by his favourite little social hangout to talk matters over with an old friend (as defined as someone who knows what sort of person he really is and is intrigued rather than appalled), which is where he was given something of a warning.

 And an opportunity.

 He's swung by the Den every couple of days - as he usually does - but on the fifth evening he looks uncommonly serious when he does so and is quick to signal for Asho's attention quite urgently and seriously indicating for him to head into the back before gathering up anyone else present and moving to join them.

 While hardly the life and soul of the party, it's rare for him to look or act this... troubled and he's quick to explain why as he slips into the room with those present and softly explains "We have a problem. Or rather, Asho has a problem. You may recall that while we were recovering that orphan child from the slave market, he attacked some of the other customers? A party from the deep country?"

 The Drow, in other words but you don't go throwing that word around up here.

 "Well that customer made it home and it turns out that they're... connected... They might not have much power here in Ptolus by themselves, but their family are cornerstones of the slave trade, drug trade and supply of illicit magic. Balacazar and Killraven dealers use their services.. And because he offended them, an interest is being expressed in having Asho delivered to them in the form of a nice pair of boots and a matching belt."

 Not, you know... Ideal, that but Temple wouldn't be Temple if he didn't also have a solution of sorts.

 "Fortunately, I have some... acquaintances on that side of things in their number who think well of me and they have indicated that that particular connected customer was searching for something that would make an excellent apology. Specifically, something in the possession of an old enemy of theirs who recently dropped out of sight in the city. I managed to earn a description of them and a few 'last seen' locations but the customer was extremelyreticent about the nature of the object or person they were looking for."

 Which is at least a little vague, but there you go.

 "The enemy in question is known to be dangerous, intelligent and magically capable, but if we can locate them or where they lived we can simultaneously loot it and-or-them while buying enough favour to avoid having someone render our companion there down into custom haberdashery... A state of affairs which I think we can all agree would be less than ideal."

 ---

TL:DR: Ash upset a Drow noble. The Drow want him skinned and have lots of friends. We can change their mind by bringing them a trophy a Bad Guy took from the Drow. We know what the Bad Guy looked like and some places he went, not much more. And we can loot the house for a bonus.

Cruch listened to Temple once the group was gathered in the back room.  The weird Mask-wearing man having taken it off for one of the few times he did almost shocked Cruch for he had honestly forgotten what he looked like it had been so long since he saw it last.

Cruch looked at Ash when it came to the part that Cruch very well remembered.  A small grin came across his face revealing his teeth as he remembered the drow falling to the floor when Ash had tripped them all in short order.  So it had come back to haunt them now.  The group or Temple at least knew something would happen at some point.  "Should have just killed the lot of them, then we wouldn't have a problem at all now would we?"  Cruch said with a shrug of his shoulders.

He quieted quickly when Jinx kicked him under the table.  When he looked at her she was looking at Crow.  "So, what does this bad guy look like and where does he live?"

 Temple wears his mask 'professionally' a great deal, but out and about he's as often to be seen looking like himself... It's just that he's not often to be seen, given his predilection for lurking and his knack for just appearing in places. It's a knack he's had ever since the Orphanarium days when he was the odd one out and picked on for his fascination with books and birds and dead animals (some of which hadn't stopped moving yet), at least until that... regrettable incident with the boy who picked on him most and all those rats.

 More innocent times, and all that.

 "No." he answers simply, eyeing Cruch for a moment "Because for one thing, they would have killed us. For another, they are connected and those connections would have killed us. For a third, if we do do this, we acquire a contact who may one day be useful to us."

 But rather greater relevance is brought about when the question arises, and he grimaces "It's hard to be certain since he is or was a spellcaster but my contact says that a private sedan chair with four attendants was seen in several locations, including Old Town around Emperors Square and South Gate around Emperors Road. If they knew where he actually lived then they would have had someone collect what's owed already. As for his appearance? Bald, pale to the point of being pallid and grossly overweight. Usually wears a petty nobles ransom in rings, necklaces and silks."

Ash kept his word, but not on the next day.  He spent a full day in bed, his wounds tended by the incredibly skilled doctor who, as far as Ash could tell, didn’t take any of his scales for study.  Ash went down to the common room a couple of times to scrounge a meal and take it back to his room.  Cedric fussed about attracting insects, but Ash promised to be careful and return soiled dishes promptly, which didn’t exactly appease the Den caretaker, but it go him out of Ash’s way.

The following day Ash managed to get out into the city early in the morning.  His scaled feet led him to Center Street and he walked for most of the morning until he reached Star Crossing Plaza.  The heart of the South Market district, here Ash was able to find a number of artists with their creations on display.  He looked over their works, seeking the right style for what he had in mind.  It needed to be mostly dark, sinister on the periphery, with the growling gnoll’s face just visible in torchlight, and another figure hinted at in the background.  In the foreground, lower-left panel would be the figure of a Tengu, but amidst the dark and dire would be a radiant gold gleaming from what at first appeared to be a mace.  The painting should show the moment of contact, the “mace” striking the gnoll.  At second look, the golden spray of the mace more the beginning of an explosion that just a simple shine, and the growling visage of the gnoll not the threatening menace it first appeared, but actually shocked and horrified as it was ended.

Ash selected an artist whose works appeared to have the kind of qualities he was looking for, and commissioned the piece. DM: Hope that is ok for you.  Let me know the price and timeline

The remainder of Ash’s week is spent running errands for Crow to sell the weapons they brought up from the last job or training with his acquaintances at the Citadel of Iron Might.  Ash chided himself for not making any further progress with removing the grotto motif decorations at the Den, but he did not have the motivation to do it.  Mostly because he didn’t have a direction for the place after the grotto designs came down.

On a whim, Ash did pay a visit to Grammie who, thankfully, also didn’t take any of his scales (or head).  He didn’t have custom for Grammie this time around (thanks again, Kray), but he liked to look at the works on display and listen to Grammie’s odd commentaries as he worked.

On the fifth day after they had returned with Triel, Temple arrived with his news.  Ash did not pale, exactly, but where Cruch remembered Ash putting the Drow on their backsides, Ash’s memory centered more on nearly dying to the blades of one of them.  He didn’t prefer to have his blood spilled by them again, if he could help it.

Well, I certainly don’t prefer to be made into a belt or a hat.  If anything, I saw myself as a stylish pair of boots, but who says your friends have any style?  Well, style or not, I still prefer to keep breathing, so I suppose we ought to look into this, whoever-they-are.  Your contacts just want a location?  Or are we delivering another body?

Jinx listened and had kicked Cruch at some point.  Now as she listened to Ash speak she eyed the man with a curious look.  "Haven't you been listening?" she said annoyingly.  "They want whatever it was that was taken returned to them.  Please keep along will you."

Ash gave Jinx a swift kick back. I am paying attention. He smiled a big smile at her. For once in my life, at least.  I only mean, it sounds like they don’t want to tell us what exactly they are looking for, which will make it hard for us to steal for them.  So either they just want the location of the person, or they want us to find the person and bring him back to them.  So, my question stands, do they want a body, or just the location of a body?  Or will they share some information about exactly what we are to retrieve?  What do you think, Doc?
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 19:05, Tue 16 Apr.

 "Boots are traditional, but I rather imagine that the belt was going to be extremely slim and rather long, they're inclined to show a great deal of skin." Temple allows, looking from Ash to Jinx and taking in a slow breath then explaining a little more of the situation "The person who I have been in touch with is not the one who wants this thing or person returned. They do however do business with them and they were... Somewhat forthcoming about rumours regarding why they were here, partly because of our professional relationship, partly because of the fact that I had sent business their way by offering the ones Asho offended a line of credit at their establishment and partly..."

 Fleetingly, Temple looks distant and disconcerted for a moment "...for other reasons of their own. They indicated that the woman in charge of that party was not the first of her family to come this way. And that their predecessor never left, or at least did not do so through 'established channels'. Were I to hazard a guess, we're looking to recover a hostage, a prisoner or a trophy or trophies relating to them and it will not be troublesome to identify them if we can locate them."

 Licking his slightly sharp teeth for a moment, the surgeon weighs matters and then adds uncomfortably "I could prevail upon them to find out more but doing so would... Obligate me. In ways I would likely be expected to pay back in something other than coin. Since this matter most significantly weighs upon Asho however, I would defer to his preferences in this matter."

Ash couldn’t help but wince slightly and how exactly they planned to skin him for a belt (or belts).  Better not to think on it, best to make sure it need never be.

Ash took a few moments to consider Temple’s words.  I think you’ve put yourself out enough for my hide, Doc.  If you think we’ll recognize the trophy, hostage, whatever, then that’s ok for me.  I say we do a little bit of reconnoiterancing around where this thing was seen.  Maybe Crow’s can put a quiet word out through her network…

Kray took it all in.  Out of all of that, ASH was the one that had pissed somebody powerful off?

Figures.

"Well, looks like I am going to have to pull your scales off the brazier again.  Although, I promise that if we aren't successful, we will put your head on the wall as a memorial.  Head-skin is rarely used for boots, or belts, so they should let us have that back..."

"...unless they plan to skin your face and save it as some type of agonized death mask. "

In truth, Kray should have been far more dismayed than he let on, but Temple was so vague and roundabout with his news that it hard for it to really hit home.  Somebody heard a thing about another thing that wanted a third thing... The surgeon danced aroung the facts the way he might around a wound trying to close it up with blood still flowing.

 Of all of the members of their little band, Temple is most likely the one deepest in the dark - he speaks little of it, but there are rumors that see him drinking wine at the Eight Shadows, dealing with those who traffic in the most illicit goods...

 ...And of course, he turned out to be on conversational, buy-you-a-drink terms with a party of the only race in the city that aren't just bountied like ratfolk... But that are out and out, kill on sight, lynch mob and torches illegal.

 So, conversationally he tends to hint rather than confirm so as not to get his allies in trouble.

 Of course, there are other reasons that people don't push him in conversation ask that often.

 "Faces are difficult, you need to make sure and to lift the right muscle groups, but if you dry them too fast, or without a frame you end up with just the weirdest expressions."

 Ahhh, there's one now.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:05, Sat 20 Apr.

Crow paused as she was about to weigh into the conversation to stare at Temple, bewildered at what he was referring to before cottoning on.  "When have you...  no, no.  I don't want to know.   You are sure about this information?  Of course you are, you wouldn't bring it to us.  Would you be able to identify this... commodity... if you saw it?" 

They had done a good job of making enemies lately.  It was time to start making friends.  Or some approximation of that, given the nature of these people.

Crow cocked her head at each member in turn.  "  We must have each other's back.  Yes?  An attack on one of us must be met by the strength of us all.  This may be a tough, dangerous job for no shine to pay for the trouble.  We make names for ourselves, and some will want to erase us before the ink dries.  We take this job for a member of the crew, and we use it to make some contacts. Tomorrow we can start looking for this fat hog.  Kray's spell will help us, and my contacts can hopefully do the rest."

"Every couple of weeks, my contact has occasional use of my... services and a disconcerting interest in furthering them." Temple answers, opening the door on uncomfortable speculation as to what he of all people would consider 'disconcerting'. He moves on to the rest of the questions one by one "I am as sure as I can be. I am useful to the one who provided it and were they going to 'expend' me as an asset, they would have done so when they discovered that I knew more about them than most. And personally, no but if it is the hostage, prisoner or trophy they suspect then there will be no mistaking it for anything else."

 He does however, have something of a ray of hope to offer "There may be some remuneration. My contact has done things like this before - usually with adventurers. Put them on the trail of an enemy of theirs or an opportunity they value. When my contact does this, it's almost always to the benefit of their tools, as well as themselves because she usually wants to use them again. If nothing else, we'll make contacts in some of the darkest corners of the city this way."

Buto sat quietly.  Not really listening, not exactly not listening.  His connection to the world and the people in it was always tenuous, at best.  One could never know where his thoughts really were, but it was clear he wasn’t particularly concerned with the things around him.  Not until blades were drawn, at least.  That could always bring his focus, if only for a short while.

When he did finally open his mouth, he had a unique talent for saying almost, but not quite exactly, the wrong thing.  No need for fear, Ash.  When they have made a belt of you, Buto will avenge you.  There is no need to have your scales rot away in the underground.  Buto will have you re-fitted as reins for one of the horses.  Maybe this Grammie of yours can do it.

Buto paused for a moment in what might have been consideration, hard to say.  Ok, maybe better we don’t need to avenge Ash.  We should find this inland whale.  Buto will search for him, Buto is an excellent detective.

Ash’s serpentine eyes widened as much as they could as Buto spoke, reaching their peak expression of surprise as Buto offered to investigate whoever this corpulent fellow was.  Um…thanks, I think?  I, um, mostly agree?  Let’s just focus maybe on keeping my scales on my body and worry about revenge later.  But under no circumstances is anyone to turn me into anything! I need a drink! Crow, you find this whoever-he-is and lets get the job done.

Ash stomped off to the bar, where Horus was currently chatting with one of their regulars, and poured himself an ale from the wooden keg.  He rarely seemed so…emotional about their jobs.  Perhaps the memory of nearly dying twice under Ghelve’s shop had set him on edge.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:54, Sat 20 Apr.

Kray regretted his jibes as soon as Ash began to speak.  Rarely did anything get to the tall, slender man who had been his best friend since he could remember. It was a bad sign that he took the jokes so personally.


Kray followed him to the bar and slammed down a few gold coins on the rough wooden counter. "Ale isn't going to cut it tonight, Asho.  We need something stronger.  Horus, you got any whiskey?"

Kray waited till they both had a glass, then toasted to each other and threw it back.  He would regret the drink tomorrow, but not tonight. "What say we finish the bottle, talk about ways you could sneak Jinx to a bedroom without Cruch seeing, and worry about tomorrow when the hangover wears off?"

Crow watched Ash go, understanding a little of what the man was feeling.  They each must have felt hunted over the past few weeks... well, not Buto... but the rest for sure, but Crow had felt it personally.  This was her crew, pulled from childhood relationships, and she had made the choices that had sent them into danger.  The head in a box had weighed heavy on her mind, along with the amorphous threat of the Eye Abomination.  Like rolling dark clouds in the distance, every present but never seen to get any closer.

She was pleased to see Kray follow him over to the bar and knew she would be carrying him to bed in a few hours.  She would not admonish him for the head he would have tomorrow.  She told herself that and hoped she remembered.

She kept her words for the remaining of the crew, careful to keep the words pitched too low for Ash to hear.

"We start tomorrow.  We will look into these sightings and see if we can get a name.  Buto, someone should check on the orphans, and then keep close to Ash.  He will be a target, and we need our strongest warrior to keep him safe. They will think twice about trying to remove anything from him if you are nearby.  Yes?"

"Kray and I can use his spell and my contacts to learn a name and maybe some background.  Temple, Cruch, Jinx, you will need to do the leg work then.  We can see what we can learn tomorrow, and then we can meet here for a late dinner and share our findings.  Questions?"

 "None. I am less than adept at talking people around to my way of thinking, but I know a great many people who are. I'll go and talk to a few of them, see what information is available for sale." Temple replies in response to Crow's proposal, adding "Whichever of us can put on the best front should likely concentrate on tracking the palanquin in Old Town, the others, the South Market. There are more guards around the latter, but they are also considerably less likely to care about 'keeping up standards' the way Old Town guards are."

 Just because he looks by far and away the most human of any of them, it doesn't mean that he's unaware of the prejudices and pettiness that so often orients people against those who look different in some fashion.

Ash accepted the proferred whiskey.  The liquor selection and purchasing was done by Cedric who had an excellent knack for whiskey that was both cheap and utterly disgusting, but in the docks, it hardly mattered.  Ash raised his glass sullenly and gulped the burning kerosene down.

You called me Asho.  You never call me that.  Only the Doc uses that name.  I’m not that bad off, Kray.  No need to get your motherly feathers in a ruffle.  I’m just…well, I’m just comin’ to terms with the fact that our lives, these jobs, they’re different than they used to be.  Back in Pent-In, if you got caught in a caper, you got a few days in the caves and that was about it.  Maybe you got sent to Phinara Daemyar and had to write one of her scales-blasted journal entries, but there weren’t any real-real consequences.  Even our first jobs outside of the Pent-In-Tentiary mostly only meant a lump on the ol’ melon.  But since we got involved with…whatever is going on here…I mean, we all feel it.  It’s a new kind of dangerous.  And I’m coming around to the realization that my scales… well, they’re likely to be the first to go, not accounting for Wink.  I gotta stay in the thick of it, ya know, but I just don’t have the killin’ power that that blue monster’s got.  I’ve gotten pretty good and duckin’ and dodgin’, but when my intuition fails me, it means a blade gets sheathed in my guts, and healing or no, that hurts. And one o’ these days will be the last time.  That Minotaur over there on the wall nearly did it.  These dark-skinned so-and-so’s nearly managed it.  That half-baboon freak there on the other wall nearly managed it. It just makes me wonder how much time I’ve got left.

Ash took another glass of the pungent-as-it-was-potent whiskey from Horus and held it up to Kray in toast, again. Well, enough o’ my bellyachin’.  Here’s to the ugliest crew in Ptolus, and bein’ alive another day. Ash swallowed the stuff down and made a mental note to himself to ask Cedric to find a better whiskey next time he went out.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:47, Tue 23 Apr.

As the conversation progressed and orders were given, Cruch listened to what Temple had to say.  The man seemed very adept at getting information from his contacts so he trusted he would fulfill his duty.

Ash and Buto had theirs, Kray and Crow wold be using spells to aid them in finding anything so that left Cruch and Jinx to do the leg work.  He would rather head the South Market than Old Town, so that is what he told them.  "Jinx and I will head to South Market.  We will be fitting in a bit better there I think.  Everyone be careful!"

Crow took Ash and Buto with them the next morning.  She had the orc twins head out separately, so as not to be seen together.  They had the same destination in mind that morning, but different tasks to perform upon arrival.  Crow, Ash, and Buto were there to keep an eye on him, supposedly.    The spell he planned to cast that morning would leave him helpless for a few minutes, and that was bad to be in many areas draped in the Spire's shadow.

Of course, the true reason to bring along the two giants was for Ash's protection, not Kray's.  There was no way of knowing who would come looking for him or when, but they wanted to keep a group around him when possible until this job was done.

As they entered the South Market,  Kray carefully walked around the edges of the shops and taverns that made up most of the surrounding buildings until he found what he needed: a small piece of brick that had been knocked off of a silversmith's tarnished shop front.  Clutching his finding in one hand, Kray took up a spot on the edge of square, out of the way but with good vision of the whole area.

He felt stupid, standing there with his bit of broken brick and Crow's goggles perched above his beak.  His feathers with pulled tight to his face, an indication of deepest embarrassment to anyone that knew Tengu facial expressions.  He did not like wearing the bird-like glasses.  He couldn't say why... he already looked like a bird, but it still made him feel very self conscious.

He shook his little head to rid himself of the extraneous thoughts and focused on two things... the man in the palanquin, and the little bit of brick.  After a moment, he openned his eyes, seeing more than just the people and stones, but shadows and whispers of everything that had happened or been said in square in the past few days.  It overwhelmed the staring Tengu, but he kept his concentration and pulled out anything he could about their target.

  Cast Ears of City to learn anything about the man in the palanquin.  Perception check (optional instead of Diplomacy) to make a diplomacy check as if he spent 1d4 hours talking to local people.  He can do that once every round for 4 rounds.  Checks - 31, 12, 15, and 25 (the 31 is a Nat 20)

After the stream of images and sounds ended, Kray passed the glasses back to his sister and repeated the spell, this time on her.  4 eyes and 4 ears are better than one, after all.

Cast Ears of the City on Crow, she attempts the same checks for 4 rounds.  Checks 37, 32, 32, 22

 "It is your name, Asho. But then, I knew your names from the door signs long before anyone was willing to talk to me." - a statement made wryly rather than in heat, since young Temple was both a precocious bookworm and freakishly normal in an orphanarium where most of the children were more... singular... in their nature. Well, freakishly normal until he was a little older, and 'normal' went by the wayside. He raises his glass, touches it lightly to the other man's and drinks from it, "Progress of a sort." he comments with some amusement "Your first step into a wider world. Everyone in this city is connected to someone... But if it's any consolation, our combat abilities won't be what save or damn us in it. It'll be our ability to read the currents and navigate them."

 With that, he remains unusually long through the evening, talking quietly - even, as the drink flows - sharing a few anecdotes about his week, which are by turns hair-raising and entertaining, even painstakingly stripped of identifying names and places it's quite obvious that when he's not stitching up wounds and setting bones at the Arena he's doing the exact opposite for some extremely unpleasant people who need the services of a professional.

 But bless him, he's trying to be friendly.

 Come the morning, he sets out to do the usual round of the information brokers, starting with the ever-dependable Mr Temeste at the Book Wagon.

In reply to Temple (msg # 21):

Oh, I didn’t mean nothing by it, Doc.  I don’t mind when you use my full name.  You always have, it’s normal.  But this feathered pain-in-the-scales only unpacks it when he’s feelin’ especially motherly.  An’ I don’t need it.  I just need us to find a thread to pull on and get on with this job.  Like you say, new allies…ok, maybe not allies, exactly, but business acquaintances, well bein’ on their good side is a good start to keeping ourselves amongst the breathin’.

Ash spent the remainder of the night sitting with the Doc and Kray, and the others as they came and went, laughing and occasionally staring in bewilderment at some of the stories shared.  For just a moment he could almost think they were all friends and that there wasn’t a nasty, gruesome world just outside their door, waiting to swallow each of them up in turn.  It was a good night.

——————————————-

Ash couldn’t keep his eyes still as they moved through the market the next day.  From what Temple had said, he shouldn’t be in immediate danger from these deep elves, and as long as they could pull off the job, things ought to stay that way.  That wasn’t quite enough to settle his nerves, so he moved on edge most of the morning.

For the first time in his life, Ash was happy to have Buto nearby.  The blue mountain was certainly enough on his own to make any would-be assassins reconsider.  Or at least decide to wait for another day.  That was an odd feeling, as Buto was normally nothing more than a pain in Ash’s rear quadrant.

Ash took up a position to watch the streets around them as Kray began his spell.  Better prepared than skewered.  He glanced at his friend, eyes blank and apparently unseeing.  He was there, but also not.  Kray had tried to describe it to him once.  Something like dreaming to Ash’s mind.  Kray’s body was here, but his mind was everywhere else.  Somehow connecting with the people who had come and gone from this place recently.  Ash couldn’t fathom it.  He preferred his boots to be firmly on the ground and his mind to be fixed on their immediate surroundings. At the moment those surroundings seemed peaceful; Ash only hoped it would remain that way.

In reply to Temple (msg # 21):

Two comedians were mocking passerbys, cracking jokes. A small crowd laughed at each one. Walkers would chuckle until they got picked on, but it was all light hearted and surface level. It seemed the duo was making a few coins for their efforts. They said nothing about Temple as be passed. Which likely ensured they got to make jokes again tomorrow.

Temple had to look for an extra minute to find Darthalis, as he had moved the Book Wagon for one reason or another.

The flamboyant man was talking to a duo of halflings, trying to sell them on a thick tome. It seemed he was successful as they handed him a number of coins and then moved away. It was almost comical the size of the book tucked under one of their arms, looking like a small child with a huge book.

As they departed Temester winked at Temple and greeted him. "Goo'day Doctor!"

In reply to Kray (msg # 20):

Crow caught a flew glimpses of information. The spell made it feel like a bad fever dream, flashes of information that felt completely disjointed. She tried to focus on the details Temple provided. It felt like she didn't get anything useful. But as the spell faded it felt like an idea taking shape. First she felt like the person hadn't been seen for months. At least 6, maybe more. Second she got the sense of a large house which felt... Wrong.

She shared these details with Kray before his casting which helped him dial in a little better. The timeline helped him focus more on the past, rather than things so recent. He was even more successful and felt some certainty when the spell coalesced everything into his mind.

He felt very clearly the person frequented a two story house somewhere in the vicinity. As Crow had shared the house felt off, wrong. The kind of place good folk avoided. Kray felt confident he would even know the house if he could find it. There was a palpable feeling of revulsion that surrounded the being. Anyone who saw them as they were carried around felt something akin to sick or grossed out, but no one could put a finger on why.

It seemed like they would have to put feet to pavement and simply canvas to lay eyes on this house which seemed like it should stand out once they found it.

 To the contrary, Temple has long been an advocate of the notion that the only way to possess any dignity worthy of the name is to know when to let go of it... Bullying, however?

 Well, a person of dignity doesn't put up with that sort of thing and there ever so many inventive and informative ways to express ones dissatisfaction, if you have the time and somewhere to put the leftovers.

 Besides, he's very much distracted from the street performance by the relocated book wagon... A Ptolus tradition a decade old, broken for no clear reason and - as someone who would stab someone in the hand for moving his scalpels - one which upsets his sense of order in the world and leaves him unsettled even before it occurs to him that...

 ...well "Good day Mr Temeste. Would that I were curious enough to ask how many people have paid for an answer to the question of your relocation this morning."

 Because that is exactly the sort of thing Temple would do. He smiles - never an entirely comfortable expression on his face, having a look as if he's carved one from Someone Else and imperfectly stitched it into place over his own - and engages in a few short pleasantries before coming to the point of his visit as he sets a small stack of coin on the counter, bright gold and covered by his hand "I find myself looking for a particular sort of information today, Mr Temeste. A provenance of a very specific sort... Have you a moment?"

Crow gathered the group together, finding Cruch and Jinx as they were about to start working the locals for information, and pulled everyone into an alley.  People might have looked at them askance or with suspicion, but seedy-looking activity was not out of place in this square, and the raw bulk of 4 bigger crew members dissuaded anyone from looking too long.  Only Temple was missing, but they would have to get him up to speed that evening at the Den.

"This quarry. It has been to ground for a while.  Yes?  We did not detect any trace of him for two seasons.  There is house that he is linked to. Do not ask how.  The spell did not make that clear.   Crow made an involuntary gagging relfex.  From the sickening whirl of the spell's sensations AND the memory of how that house had felt.  Worse than the lake under the sea.  "This spell, it was... noisy... but effective.  We will recognize the house when we see it.  We need to proceed with caution.  It felt...   Crow chose her words carefully, picking through the feeling she had from the house without experiencing them again any more than she had to.  "off.  Corrupted.  Unnatural.  We will know it when are close.  Do NOT enter without the whole crew.  Yes?  We find it only, then gather at the Den to discuss our next move. We need Temple to identify the prize, so we cannot proceed without him.  Questions?"

Crow will listen to suggestions, and if nothing better presents itself, will break the team into one group of Ash, Jinx, and Kray.  She will take Cruch and Buto with her.   They will look for the house until dusk.

Ash was, not for the first time, impressed with Kray and his magical ability. Back at Pent-In he had teased his friend endlessly as he had first begun trying to contact the gods. He looked so silly, and he hadn’t had a guide to show him the way.  But there he was, again and again, fumbling his way through the dark, figuratively and literally, for he made most of his attempts at night when he thought no one was watching.  If Ash’s scales could properly blush, they would have at the thought.  He’d been good-natured, but relentless in his humor.  And here Kray was, using that magic, that power, to track down someone that even these powerful dark elves could not find, and in the span of a few minutes, not days or weeks spent canvassing the city.

Alright, Kray, then let’s get moving.  Maybe you can give me a description of the place as we go, so I can help you keep an eye out.

Their guard duty concluded and a plan agreed, Buto hefted the enormous axe in his hands.  Most people would not be able to life the giant, steel axe head from the ground, but for Buto it moved naturally and fluidly.  The haft was an enormously thick piece of ironwood, almost as thick as most men’s arms, but it fit easily in Buto’s hands.  Though still wicked in appearance, with jagged teeth fashioned along the blade and spikes on the back end that would gouge as the blade sliced, this axe was much more refined, of a masterwork quality with unseeable magic inlaid, enhancing it’s power.  It was, in every way, a significant improvement over the one he had taken from the arena.  That had been solide metal, both head and haft, with crude weld marks showing at the joint.

Buto admired the axe in the sun for a moment as they walked.  Somehow, he couldn’t quite let their departure from the sea cave go, and he found himself commenting, whether to Crow or to himself he couldn’t have said for sure, You know, when this is finished, we could go back to the cave.  Who knows that treasures we left in there.  We checked such a small part of the place.

After that he focused his eyes on the building around the.  Crow had said that the place would feel wrong.  Buto was familiar with that kind of feeling, so he tried to focus on the houses around them.

When Crow and Kray found her and Cruch, the two of them were just walking around enjoying a snack of some kind of avian variety.  They had the orders and were looking around but hadn't caught sight of what they were looking for and as time passed they got hungry.

After listening to Crow describe what they were looking for and split the group up, Jinx went with Kray and Ash.  Jinx was often paired with Ash, not so much with Kray 'the gnoll destroyer'.  As they split off, Jinx said, "if it is a two-story building it will be a bit easier to find.  I will send Skydrop up above, he should be able to see something much quicker up there." Jinx whispered into the strange pet's ear and off it flew gaining height as it went.

Cruch had been enjoying the 'bird' and looking around for this thing they were supposed to be looking for.  It was increasingly getting more frustrating as the morning went on.  The appearance of Kray and Crow brought a smile to Cruch.  The two bird-like creatures were so different from each other yet so similar it was scary. It was much like him and Jinx.

As the groups parted each other Cruch moved along with Buto and Crow.  "I am glad you two were able to narrow this down somewhat.  We weren't finding anything.  So what about this place is so off?"

Kray considered Cruch's question before splitting off with Jinx and Ash.  He was excited to be paired up with the arcane expert.  He was always paired with Ash or Crow herself, and it was nice to spend time with the prodigious spell weaver.

"Hard to put specific words to it, Cruch.  Remember how that beach felt down in the cave?  Or the way the old headmaster's office felt?  Unnatural.  Like "this should not exist."  Have you every touched an undead?  Like, to try to cast a spell on it?  It feels OFF, something that looks alive but isn't.  The mind rejects it, and tries to warn you with this feeling.  I can't quite put it any better than that."

In reply to Temple (msg # 25):

The handsome human smiled at Temple's question. "Would that I could proffer an exciting explanation! Unfortunately, the truth is entirely pedestrian. The City is just doin' street work where I've been parked for so long. Hopefully I'll be right back where I was soon."

He shrugged with a genuine smile, sad there wasn't a more interesting answer. His eyebrows raised at the second question and nodded.

"Absolutely! Ask away! Hoping I have an answer for you ."

 "Ahh, yes there's been a lot of that going about lately, an after-effect of the shake up caused by so much subterranean magic glitching during the interregnum." Temple agrees, turning a glance up and then down the street before subbing a more serious expression "You always have an answer, Mr Temester, it's simply that sometimes the answer is 'no'."

 "But not today, hopefully. I'm in the market to know a great deal more about a large, bald and apparently 'greasy' man dressed in fine garments who used - for some time, up until the interregnum - to use a palanquin to travel between Old Market and Southgate. They had four bearers notable primarily for never interacting with anyone, including other palanquin carriers." pausing, he weighs the next piece of the question carefully - a reassurance of sorts, rather than a greater inquiry, serving as a promise of sorts that he's not about to start a small - or large - war over this "He also had quite serious enemies of the sort who would like confirmation of any ill fortune he has experienced, but who do not at this time intend the cause misfortune for others."

Darthalis leaned back against his wagon, his facial expression changed to one of pure seriousness.

"You're punchin' up a bit there doctor..." He said with raised eyebrows.

Temester cocked his head sideways and held Temple's eyes. He blew out a sigh, then looked past the doctor.

"Greasy." Darthalis pursed his lips as he let that word resonate in the air.

"A lot of palanquins come out of Oldtown. Most of them carrying fat men in fine clothing. But greasy. Now that word carries some weight."

Again Temester grabbed Temple's gaze and held it.

"He also hasn't been seen in months. Six at least. Maybe more. I'm assuming you don't know who he was connected with, right?"

The "book seller" nodded at Temple's confirmation.

"Listen. I would be real careful here. Your group has survived this long because you haven't hit anyone or anything too important..." He let the warning hang on the air for just a moment.

"Word is he's dead, or gone. He always went to a house on Perfect Lane. You'll know it once you see it. It's anything but perfect. It's not a White House Temple. But you would do well to avoid those."

Temester leaned his head forward, raising his eyebrows to accentuate what he just said.

 "I am fully cognizant of the risks, Mr Temester. Distressingly aware of them. It is an entanglement with people who have deep" - for a moment his eyes drop to significantly indicate the street beneath them, and by extension that which is deep beneath those streets "pockets."

 "But Perfect Street it is, and I'll be sure and to double down on warning my associates to avoid the White House. You are quite correct in warning that there's trouble to be found there that we simply don't need."

 "I take it from your not suggesting that there's more to be had that there's no more to be had, with all that that implies?" he proceeds to ask, largely unnecessarily - they're both men of the world after all - but Asho is at stake here, after all.

"Just that no one who has ever visited that house nefariously has ever been seen again. And that anyone who has taken peeks around the grounds describes the place as a horror show. It just has that greasy, slimy feel to it. Or so they say..."

The duo concluded their business. Some coins needed to change hands for the information exchanged. Darthalis' final words to Temple were simply, "I hope to see you again."

placeholder

Temple departed the Book Wagons new location and made his way back through the streets.

He knew the others were out searching for the house but now he had the exact street to check.

So he set out to find his companions to inform them of what he had learned.

 Which - for once - is exactly what Temple does, lighter to the tune of a dozen or so good golden thrones but also weighed down with both what was said and what wasn't said - the latter as important as the former when dealing with the owner of the book cart.

 Joining them, Temple rapidly confirms the details they've been gathering "The target hasn't been seen for several months, prior to which they mainly commuted between a property on Perfect Street and The White House. I was very explicitly warned off the White House, but the former has been the focus of several attempts by small time thieves, none of which has ever been seen again... Making it likely that the target is indeed deceased, but that his home remains protected."

The Doc’s confirmation sealed it.  Perfect Street.  Ash was certain they would find this house there.  So, are we ready to go, or does anyone need to make some preparations before we head over?
This message was last edited by the player at 15:42, Sat 04 May.

Once the group was all together again and they had the street name Cruch was ready to proceed.  "I am ready to go, can't do any prep not knowing what we will need before getting there."

Night had fallen in full by the time Temple met up with one group, then they gathered the other and were all together once again.

As they made their way down the wide Center Street they saw a rare sight, three people on horseback. Few people rode in Ptolus. The streets were so congested very few tried to navigate on horseback.

The trio were not out of town merchants or wealthy aristocrats trying to keep their expensive boots clean, but rather they were three warriors arrayed in fine plate mail bearing the mark of the Knights of the Pale. A group in Ptolus who fought the supernatural. They were a small order, but renowned.

Perfect Lane was a few extra turns off Center Street. As they neared the great southern wall of the city, air from the bay pushed the smell of the nearby stockyards and slaughter house across their nostrils. Animals crammed together combined with the smells of their death were strong in the air. Normally the south market area had more pleasant aromas than the guidlsman district, but here they were right on the edge of the market.

Another smell assailed them as they passed by Blackstock Printing. The chemicals used in the printing process were potent. There was no sound coming from the structure. With nightfall the presses had stopped.

Finally walking down Perfect Lane it didn't take long for the group to find the house. Slimy. Greasy. Wrong. All of those words seemed right, along with a host of others.

Kray immediately felt it wash over him upon laying eyes on the dilapidated two story structure. He knew this was the right place. He had seen it. A large wall ran all around the place, but it was broken in places and shorter. The house itself looked like it had been abandoned for years, not just 6 months. But all the foliage around the house seemed, wrong. Everything about the house seemed... Wrong.

 Temple's expression, when the building comes into view is a grim one... He spends a long moment just looking, his nostrils slightly flared as he drinks in the scent of the street - a kind of fetid, potent aroma of rot and long-dead dreams cut through with drifts of the scent of the harsh abrasives and strange inks used in the printworks (odd that he's never come down this street before, but their operation smells less like his print room and more like his workshop and it's a detail added to the back of his mind to inquire after one day).

"Well." he remarks, after a few moments of quietly uncomfortable staring at the dark windows and the discoloured wood and stone of the structure "I don't imagine we'll have much competition. I'm also suddenly very glad of that potion I asked for back when we rescued that orphan."

 Ahhh yes, Fastidiousness.

The decrepit, two-story house, was likely once a grand facade. Now it was a haunting reminder of its former glory. Weather-worn boards creaked and groaned under the weight of time, while cracked windows leered like vacant eye sockets, offering glimpses into the darkness within. Gnarled ivy snaked its way up the walls, its tendrils entwined with the decaying wood, as if claiming the structure for its own.

The overgrown weeds that encroached upon the property writhed and twisted in the faintest whisper of wind, their tendrils reaching out like grasping fingers, as if seeking to ensnare unwary trespassers. Shadows danced ominously across the cracked and uneven path leading to the front door, where the once-polished brass knocker hung askew, its surface tarnished and pitted with age.

But it wasn't just the physical decay that permeated the air; there was a palpable sense of wrongness that hung over the house like a shroud. Whispers of malevolent energy seemed to emanate from its very foundations, as if the very essence of evil had taken root within its walls. Those who dared to venture too close spoke of strange noises echoing from within, of fleeting glimpses of movement in the darkened windows - many of which were shattered - and of a sense of dread that clung to the air like a suffocating fog.

This was no ordinary abandoned house; it was a beacon of darkness, a testament to the sinister forces that lurked in the shadows. And those who dared to unlock its secrets may have found themselves ensnared in a web of terror from which there was no escape.

The dilapidated wall encircled the entire rectangle property. Buildings on either side looked shockingly normal, and well kept. The alley separating them seemed to be enough space to stop the spread of whatever tainted the home. An alley behind the home separated it from buildings which faced Van Mitten Street.

Crow gathered the group together, out of sight of the building, and summed up the situation.

"This place.  This will not be like the inn, or the lake, or even the malachite fortress.  Yes?  We are looking at a trap of abyssal evil.  This could be far more dangerous than anything so far, and not best suited to our skills.  We need to be careful.  And prepared.  We come back tomorrow, in daylight.  It's power will be less, robbed of the suffocating night.  Yes?  We prepare what we can.  Anything to protect against evil, necromancy, or the un-living."

Crow considered the situation, and added. "Temple and I can scout it a little more tonight, but we do not enter, then we had back to the den to prepare."

If no objections, Crow will take a flight around the place then head back with the group to plan.

Perception 33

At the mention of more undead, Jinx shook her head.  She was basically useless against them.  She would need to speak to the spirits to see if they could make her more effective.  "Sounds like a good plan to me."  Just standing outside the place gave her an uneasy feeling.

 "Cover of darkness gives us some protection from the guards... But I'm leery of entering that property during the day myself. I'll skulk around a little as carefully as I can and meet you back at the inn." the good doctor agrees uncomfortably, stepping back two paces into the shadow of a nearby alley and more or less immediately vanishing in the way he does - after which he heads around the district, moving as cautiously as though he were actively being hunted and doing his absolute level best to pick points of observation for the house and the residents of the area that let him make his best assessment of it while exposing himself as little as possible.

Crow led the group back to the Den for dinner and discussion.  The meat stew was hearty and filling after the busy day, and the warmth did a little to chase away the unnatural chill the house had put into her bones.

"This house, it looks to have eaten others who have gone in to investigate.  Yes?  Let us not make for a midday snack.  What do we need to prepare for this job.  Thoughts? 

Kray considered the question while he spooned chunks of meat and potatoes from the soup into his beak.  Nobody ever asked him how he chewed up food without molars.

He did't.  But nobody asked.

"Protection from evil and the undead will be critical.  My bow here can do some of that work, and a spell or two should do the rest.  Ash has the right of it, we should spend the morning shopping for anything that could be of benefit, then hit the job around noon.  Jinx, Cruch... any thoughts on what else might help us?"

Picture of the property:

 Temple's gone for rather more than an hour, but like a bad penny he returns - looking somewhat uncomfortable with the results of his little expedition, but nevertheless determined to see it through.

 Seating himself, with a small bread-bowl of stew which he picks over he listens, the makes his own contributions "All the lower-floor windows are barred and the structure of the house looks solid despite its state. Nothing too remarkable there... What was concerning is that the nearby homes are also barred, or rather boarded up. Lived in, but boarded up. It looks as though the locals think something's preying on them and I had the uncomfortable feeling I was being hunted more than once." he informs the group, eating a spoon of stew, then licking his teeth before adding "There's a small underground space too. Maybe the size of the house itself but not, I think connected to the larger undercity. And whatever's in it is hungry and reeks of sickness. No signs of food deliveries in the last few months either. If I had to guess, the reported death of the owner has left his staff... Off the leash, so to speak."

 Another spoon, then another and soon he's tearing up the thick-crusted bread, soaked with stew juice to send it the way of the stew as he reaches into the small bag at his side and produces a pot, then another just like it - sealed with wax.

 "I made these as an experiment, rendering down some petty relics into a paste. They'll work on blades, but they're best used on arrows or bolts. They don't remain potent for long, no more than a minute but in that minute they'll absolutely wreck the ties between unclean things and the planes they draw power from. Undead, demons, that sort of nonsense, ghosts as well. Should be enough for ten uses." - he eyes the bag, then sighs - "Beyond that, I have some treatments for sickness and some fairly good weapons, but the ingredients are expensive and time-consuming to assemble so I'm going to need to ask for coin for them. The balm for example is an easy thirty thrones if you can find any, I'm asking fifteen. I can produce most other alchemical goods for half what you'd buy them for anywhere else, if I have some time. I'd particularly recommend 'Antiplague', it's a balm of antiseptic and cleansing herbs and astringents as well as some modest tonics. Makes it far harder for disease to infect you during the hour or so it remains effective."

 ---

 The pots contain:
 https://www.aonprd.com/Equipme...Holy%20weapon%20balm
This message was last edited by the player at 02:50, Sat 11 May.

Crow nodded at Temple's description.  His description left her a bit queasy for no good reason, and his additional voraciousness with the stew made her a little sick.

"I have a feeling that what we seek will be in that under chamber.  It would be too good if it wasn't.  These balms are good.  I don't know if we will get any clink from this, but it must be done.  Take what you need and make what you think is best.  Kray and I can use as much of this balm as you have. 

Crow fished out a purse, and handed it to Temple.  It contained a value of 500 gold in various denominations, platinum making up a good chunk.

"We should go sooner rather than later.  Whatever you can make before tomorrow noon.  It might be a long night still for you."

Ash fished in his pack and pulled out some gold coins, sliding them over to the Doc. 55gp in total for 2 of the holy balm pots and one antiplauge. As the night wandered on and the conversation ran, Ash got an idea of a couple of items he would buy on the next morning in preparation.

He rose early (for Ash) and made his way to Rastor’s weapons in Delver’s square, where he figured he could find the items he was searching for.  When asked what he was looking for, Ash handed a list to the lion-maned fellow at the counter.

Ashes Shopin List:
1 Weapon Bakpak
1 Silver Morninstar
1 silver sikle
1 adamanteen anytool



Ash will try to buy the folllowing at the given prices:
1 Weapon Backpack - 25 gp
1 Silver Morningstar - 98gp
1 Silver Sickle - 26gp
1 Adamantine Traveler’s Any Tool - 500gp
GM please let me know if he is able to acquire any of the items.

Kray and Crow got an early start to the day, eager to get the metaphorical worm before heading back to the haunted house.  That included a packet of bread and cheese squirreled away from their later dinner the night before at the Den.  Crow always insisted on them taking these trip alone, without the rest of the crew.

Kray knew this was a control tick of his big sister's... she liked to do things when she wanted to, how she wanted to, and including the others would limit that.  She would have to operate on their schedules and their shopping needs.  Not to mention Ash's idea of an early start was anytime before the sun hit the halfway mark... to sunset.

And so, it was just the two of them munching on sandwiches of cheese as they weaved through the thickening throngs in the wee hours of dawn.  There wasn't much to it honestly.  Crow knew what she wanted, and they headed directly to where they could find it.  An herbalist for more of that balm Temple had set them on to, and a tincture for protection against disease.   Kray had worked with them previously on one of his "apprenticeships" while at Pent In, and engaged in some light shop talk before Crow dragged him away... he may have been about to share a little too much about why they needed such specific supplies.

Next was a fletcher of magical arrows and other missiles.  Crow hand-picked several magically infused shafts and a few bundles with custom heads.  She clucked at the prices but did not hesitate to pay the piper once the haggling was done.  They had both come up against the start reality of fighting undead with just regular arrows, and neither had enjoyed the powerless feeling.  This time, they would be better prepared, whatever the cost.

Crow made sure to buy Kray a quiver like hers, explaining the benefits of the enchanted pockets while brushing away his insistence that ANY arrow could do whatever he wanted, with the proper application of his will.   His protests were weakened by his own experience of being down to the last of his power facing an undead monstrosity and praying it would be enough.  Next time, Crow was making sure he would have other options to help his husband with his own resources.

Once they were done with their shopping, they headed back to the Den... a full day done before most there had even lightened from their pillows.

  Purchased 4  pots of balm for 30 GP each (15 each if Temple can make it).  2 Antiplague for 50 gp each (or 25 each if Temple can do it).  Antidotes (+2) - 7 for 3 gp each, 4 bane arrows (undead, +1 arrows with undead bane enchantment) 166 each, 20 Cold Iron and 20 Silver arrows for 40 per 10, 40 blunt arrows for 4 gp.  And an efficient quiver for 1800

Cruch had no use for the balm since he had to be put on a melee weapon and since he was the weapon it wouldn't work.  He made certain that his gear was in order but also that his sister was as well.  When everyone was ready to go Cruch was ready to lead the charge.

After getting back to the Den Jinx went upstairs.  She needed to construct some of the alchemy that they had talked about.  She felt useless against the swarm of worms that attacked Ash and she wanted to be more of use to not only Ash but the others as well.

She pulled out her mobile alchemy lab which was nothing more than some test tubes and beakers and vials with a few other things and then the ingredients she needed to make some alchemist fire and some acid.  It didn't take her too long to produce 2 of the vials the alchemist fire, but on her first try of the acid the vial just didn't look right so she tried again.  This time the mixture was right so she made another the same way.  2 vials of acid joined the two vials of fire into a pouch she had just for them.  The pouch had extra padding inside and slots where the vials would not bang into one another.  Once everything was done she put her lab away again and fell asleep.

The next day she joined the others as expected and said she was ready.

Buto wandered alone in the city after leaving the Den.  For most this would be a dangerous prospect, and for Buto it might still have been, but most lurkers in the dark would look for easier targets than the shuffling blue monstrosity that was Buto.

Buto likely wouldn’t have noticed a pickpocket who approached, he was deep in thought.  They would delve into danger again, not for clink or for fame, but to save the lizard man whose mouth was too big for his own good.  Nevermind that Buto’s own stubborn, brutish way was just as likely to get him into trouble.  Buto hoped this risk, for it wasn’t really a job, not in the normal sense, was worth it.

Buto had considered going to the market with Ash and the others the following day, but he was saving his precious coin for now.  He wouldn’t really admit to himself consciously why, but his heart knew.  His head also knew, and those thoughts of unworthiness sprung up unbidden often.  Did he really think he could buy his way into her graces? The family’s graces?  They’ll never accept one like you. So be it.

Buto was not meant for standing still and doing nothing, though.  Always moving forward, towards a destiny that he couldn’t quite see or understand. And on that front, something was happening to him.  Ever since his bouts of anger changed he could feel it.  Something was there that wasn’t exactly him, but at the same time, it was.

Buto eventually found his way back to his spartan room at the Citadel and, curling up on an extra large bed they had thankfully been able to procure for him (it seems many of the fighters at the citadel had similar problems), the big blue meanie promptly fell into a mostly dreamless sleep.

Buto rose early the following day and, after a hearty breakfast and filling his pack with rations, made his way back to the Den to join the others.

Crow tried to sit patiently while waiting for the rest to be ready, but it was hard. One, because she was not looking forward to going back to the manor.  She was not a monster hunter or a paladin... some fool knight of the church with a bloodlust for abyssal spawn.  She was working folk.  Sure, there was fighting and some killing (too much lately), but it was all shine and barter.  Not dark magic and rotting souls.

The other reason she found it hard to sit still was her new armor.  It had been ready for pick-up this morning, and it seemed like she might need it.  fool!  you don't take a long flight with new wings... . She should have worn it for a few days during normal activities and light training.  But the child-like voice in the back of her head screamed for every layer of protection she could get... and this time, she listened.

 It was light, and moved smoothly.  It just didn't feel right, and it just added to that tingle at the base of her spine.

When she could stand it no longer, and the sun was about an hour from its zenith, she gathered the crew around her in the back.

"We go here to save one of us, not lose more.  Yes?  Temple, he will know what we need, so we keep our eyes open, and wits sharp.  Kray, he will give us a warning if there are the risen dead in the manor.  Each of you take one of these when we arrive. Sliver links shimmered over long arms as she handed out a little bottle to each of the crew, saving one for herself.  "This will help you against any poisons we might encounter.  I would also take one of the anti-virals Temple was offering, if you have one.  The threats in there could be of any variety, and it is best to be protected."

Crow laid out the rest of the "plan", as it was.  They would not be able to sneak in, not the seven of them.  And sneaking had not helped the buglers that the house had consumed in the last two seasons.   Best to stay together and expect that whatever was inside could not be hidden from, only avoided or overpowered.  No, they would take the front door.  Search together, and watch each other's backs.

Once the questions and suggestions were discussed, Crow led the group out of the Den, and into another.

 Temple does not in any particular detail know what they need... But he has built up a modest little stash of potentially useful items and reagents over the past few months and as he passes through his workshop he takes a moment to gather them up, painstakingly decanting more or less his entire stash of fine-ground holy relics into a pestle and mortar to turn out more holy weapon balm then - since he has a few arrows - preparing some trick ones to hand to Crow as well as the Antiplague she asked for.

 He doesn't have any spare vials of flammables lying around (and he's not taking the dangerous ones out of his bag of holding) so he runs out of easily-nabbed toys before he spends her budget, then bags everything up and heads for the rendevous, passing a small bag to Asho, another one to Kray and then unrolling a small leather wrap for Crow - which proves to contain a number of arrows.

 "These four won't hurt, but they'll spatter the target with glue - handy if we get into another chase. These four fragment into a storm of shards on impact. Not a lot of damage per shard, but it'll bloody anyone nearby. These two catch fire a few seconds after embedding in someone or something... And I'm not handing out vials of flammables or acids without being asked, since I don't know who in the group feels like carrying them..." he states, a pat implying that the small magical bag on his hip has some rather dangerous items in it, secure from being prematurely detonated by their storage in another plane.

 As for the plan?

 "Well... I'd suggest going in around the back just to avoid the possibility of being reported to the city watch, but otherwise no... Stick together, stay close and have a plan to kill anything we meet."

 ---

Asho
2 Pots of Holy Weapon Balm for 15gp/e
1 Antiplague for 25gp

Crow
4 Pots of Holy Weapon Balm for 15gp/e
3 Antiplague for 25gp/e
3 Antitoxin for 25gp/e
4 Tangleshot Arrows for 10gp/e
4 Splintercloud Arrows for 12.5gp/e *
2 Slow Burn Arrows for 50gp/e
100gp

* I'm proposing (there's a lot of debate) that this weapon:
    Does benefit from strength and enhancement style bonuses to all targets.
    Does not benefit from precision damage from feats or abilities except to the main target.

Kray
4 Pots of Holy Weapon Balm for 15gp/e
2 Antiplague for 25gp/e

When they arrived at the manor, Kray was still trying to get the unpleasant milky taste of the tonics out of his mouth. He knew they would help him, but that didn't make the taste dissipate any faster. It added to the feeling of being "off" that he had had since strapping on the new quiver. Its weight was odd, and his newly enchanted armor was a third distracting presence. The manor did not help any of it—it just magnified it by a power of 10.

Kray took the antiplaque and antidote (not antitoxin...yet).  +5 against disease (1 hour) and +2 against poison (4 hours). 

They took to the backdoor per Temple's good advice... there was little foot traffic near this place, so why risk being spotted by the watch?  Kray knew he was up first.  He pulled a small packet of dirt from his pocket,  taken from Pent-in of all places.  They had graves across the street where all the little bodies of the orphans were placed in unmarked graves.  Vile. Disgusting.  Why Kray had chosen that dirt as his spell component was hard to put into words, even for the effusive little bird.  His emotional connection to it, the raw anger and sadness it brought him, made it a powerful focus for the spell.  Maybe that was it.

Kray closed his eyes and focused on the dirt...  the nature of it.  A resting place for the dead, where their bodies could rest peacefully while their spirits moved on.  For such a peace to be disturbed, it would leave a vile mark in the world... a miasma that could be seen.  Kray opened his eyes again and looked through the back door and into the house... slowly and methodically searching every inch of it for that telltale miasma of the undead.

cast detect undead - Can detect undead auras; the stronger the undead creature, the longer the aura lasts.  If I detect any auras, I can study that spot longer to see the number and strength of the aura and its exact location (if LOS or direction if no LOS).  it works through UP TO 3 feet of wood/dirt, 1 foot of stone, and 1 inch of metal.  60 ft cone that Kray will sweep around.  It lasts 4 minutes, so I should be able to get the whole house.

1HD - 1d6 rounds
4HD - 1d6 minutes
10 HD - 1d6x10 minutes
11+HD - 1d6 days. 

The skin under Kray's feathers felt like it was crawling as he detected several undead. He detected at least 4 moderate auras near the front door, likely around an entrance area given the nature of the building - an obviously aspirational manor commissioned and built for a successful merchant or minor noble to show off their wealth and success to their peers - then at least 4 more strong auras, split on either side of the manor and in motion.

Everything about this house, and the neighbourhood around the house carried a miasma of corruption that leaves the soul feeling greasy just from coming into contact with it. Railings and gates that can't be more than a few years old have corroded as if under the weight of decades of neglect and every window that can be seen facing the manor is barred and shuttered.

The worst thing takes a few minutes to truly register, and when it does so it's by its absence, not its presence.

*There isn't a single bird, not a pigeon or a gull to be seen within a hundred yards of the house.*
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:43, Sat 25 May.