Next day, you all rendezvous with Thamol, who had made it to the Gate without incident.  The Gate guards send you a messenger when he arrives, and Mundin goes to pick him up.  That evening, the adventurers of Chillbane, who had a good relaxing day of resting from all the traveling, gets ready to go see the Major.

When you arrive the barrack, the secretary woman leads you to a small meeting room (Note there are like 10 of you) and informs you that Major will be here shortly.  She then goes to her desk, and speaks into what appears to be a mirror, "The messengers are here and waiting for you in the meeting room."  There is a long table with a dozen chairs in the middle of the room, and one by one, you sit down at the table.

The secretary woman brings you some nice hot tea for everyone, and you start sipping.  Five minutes later, a sudden burst of blinding flash fills the room, and when your eyes begin to work again in a couple of seconds later, you see a beautiful woman is standing in front of you in combat stance.  She is tallish, lean and muscular built and short dark hair.  She is donning a light grey adventuring gear with splattering of blood, apparently still wet, and breathing heavily.  You notice no sign of the "Hammer and Pick" Bloodstone Crest on any of her gear, that is prominently displayed on everyone in the barrack, and Tobin, the Pegasus-Friend.  Blood drips off of her sword she is holding in her right hand.

"Report!", she yells, apparently towards outside the door.  The secretary sitting at the desk outside the meeting room looks into a crystal ball, and calmly announces, "Everyone is out safely.  No casualties."

With that, the woman relaxes out of the combat stance.  "Good.  Keep me informed.", she steps to the door, takes out a cloth and start wiping the blood off of the sword, and asks the secretary.

She then turns back to you and give you all a quick nod.  "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen.  I had something to take care of quickly.  I hope you didn't have to wait too long."

"I am who they call "Grassreaver", she walks over to the head of the table.  "My secretary told me you have a message from Pegasus-Friend?", she doesn't waste any time with pleasantries, and goes straight to the point.

-K

Penville bobs in his seat. Unsure of what to do or say he sits with his hands crossed. It seems like his cold has left him drowsy and missing most of the detail of what has gone on around them all. He pats Bigby and waits to see what happens next.

Talvaroff looked very startled at this Grassreaver's sudden appearance, and spent a brief moment mopping up some tea he had spilled.  Then he spoke up, clearing his voice.
"We gave Thamol the letter, miss." He then remembered that he was supposed to stand up in a lady's presence, and did so.

Thamol gets up and is smiling.  If the others look at his face they see the same look he give any female he take a liking to (including Tarmes) or an animal he like.

"I am Thamol.  Tobin gave this to us after we came across him.  It seem he was chancing the necromancer we were after.  It also seems the necro was more deadly that we new.  We did make life difficult for the necrom and gave Tobin direction so he has better chance of catching up with him.  He told us to deliver this to Captain Kaief but I feel you higher up than the captain so does not mater if we give it to you."
Thamol hand the woman the scroll and waits.  He seem to be waiting for her so he can ask something else but that the letter is more important.

It is clear Thamol is not bother by waiting for woman, her power and rank.

Zar'Da stands as the woman suddenly appears and remains standing as she and the others talk. His face blushed slightly when he realized his hand was clenched on the hilt of his sword due to the surprising appearance of the woman and quickly removed it as to not send any misunderstood intentions.

"Please, no need for a formality.  You are our guest here.  You have come out of your way to deliver a message for us.  You did us a favor.", the woman hands the scroll to the secretary.  She goes off to her desk, and takes out a ring and places on the seal.  Appears to be a perfect match.  She opens the letter then chants as she draws a circle on the paper.  Her eyes briefly glows.  The letter is then returned to the Major, with a nod, apparently of approval.

"Capatain Kaief is also on the move, trying to intercept the wretched necromancer as he is pursued by Tobin.  This letter will indeed is valuable for us to track down Neconlius.  Please, tell me anything else that could be helpful.  What happened in the encounter, where he was and what he was doing, and any little clue might be important."

-K

Thamol is happy she seem easy going.  He decide to put what he know to her.
"Well it quite clear he cares nothing for the life of others.  He quite happy to kill both animal and humanodes.  More over he seems to delight in putting others through as much pain as possible.  He looks down on all other intelligent creature and dismisses them as if they creature to be played with or squashed like flys.  His powers are quite high.  He can fly and disregard minor spells I can cast."
Thamol tells I his experiences.
"The key thing however that I think you should know is he had a red crystal ball which was very important to him.  He held it like a female creature holds it new born offspring.  I am sure it was magical and powerful.  I would say it has a major part of his plans."

Lounging in one of the stiff chairs, Tarmes spoke up. ”That bloody mule Neconlius turned a whole village into light forsaken zombies and skeletons!” She took a couple minutes to explain how Chillbane had come across the burning village and the goblins that had ransacked the place. She further explained they had followed the trail of footprints in the snow to a mine. Tarmes spared no one’s ears and used several colorful expletives describing the fight with Neconlius. In particular she pointed out that the necromancer had dropped an entire mine on top of a large group of helpless and sleeping villagers. It’s quite clear Tarmes has some unresolved anger issues.

Considering the walk had been long and these setas were made for humans, it wasn't long before Penville found himself falling lightly to the floor as his eyes glazed over whilst the bigger folk bickered. Always with the arguments.

It was one of the reasons he had liked the druids he'd once met. They'd laugh and smoke some nice tasting baccy and then everyone was eventually swapping dtories with a lot of giggling. He guessed they must have been good stories as he couldn't remember the last time he'd giggled.

As he sat in the darkness of the undertable he spent his time patting on Bigby (who seemed intently listening if any could see under the table) and Penville looked around to see if he could guess who everyone was by just looking at their legs.

"So...  The mine was a few days of travel north of here, and he fled further north? Major Grassreaver asked, musing.  "Or, perhaps not fled, if he is as strong in wizardry as you describe.  I fear that perhaps Tobin may not be enough.  One man can easily slip by and evade another."
She turned to the secretary and began giving orders.
"Ready twenty men of arms, who are to leave with me within three hours.  They must all be mounted, for speed is of the essence."
"What of the matter of Fisel Vladorovich?" The secretary asked after taking swift notes.
"Blast.  I was going to look into that myself..." Major Grassreaver
said forcefully, looking around the room.  Her eyes fell on you, the adventurers of Chillbane.
"Perhaps you will look into this matter for me?  You have already gone out of the way to help us by delivering the letter, so you have no obligation to us, and indeed we are in your debt somewhat.  However, our business with Neclonius is such that little attention can be spared to what may be a dangerous matter.  There is another wizard, Damaran by birth, who has a bad reputation in Sembia and the Dalelands, but has committed no crime within our jurisdiction.  Lately, he has arrived in Bloodstone Gate in the company of a number of strange-looking men.  We think this bodes ill, and want to know what is plans are.  Since I will be helping to pursue Neclonius, I cannot get this information myself.  But perhaps you may in my stead, if you wish to aid us once more."

Thamol looked at the lady.  He liked her.  It seemed good idea to help her.
If she like Thamol she may be able to help him with his quest.  She seemed very busy and always in hurry.  She going to be hard to get to help him.
He always found this type of person did not take time to enjoy life.

"Well, I could help.  I do not have any real plans at moment."
He turns to others to see if they will join are go there own way.

Shrugging Penville adds "Everyone else I knew is dead. Guess that gives me some free time."

*RAWWOO*

"Yes yes, cept you Biggers." he grins before entering his trance again, counting sheep jumping over a guillotine. 1 in 4 make it.

"I too will help." was all the quiet half-drow said.

Sure, why not? Sophia says to the leader. Its the least I could do since they helped in my rescue. Sophia thought to herself knowing that she wouldn't have it any other way.

So far Tarmes is farily impressed with the major; a strong woman in a position of authority is someone that the foul mouthed blonde can’t relate to, but respects all the same. ”Tis a right fine thing for Chillbane to go about playing messenger service to a half size lieutenant. But all the better if we get to play sherrif instead. Count me in.” She paused briefly, but before anyone else had a chance to chime in she added, ”If you already consider yourself in our debt, Major, how do you plan to repay us?”

"Thank you, your help will be appreciated, and," Major Grassreaver looked to Tarmes, "Repaid in gold or favors in turn, as you choose when you have come to a successful conclusion.  But, please remember; we're trying to bring civilisation to this frigid lawless place.  Which means, if Fisel is planning evil, or has done it already, I would like you to capture him and bring him to be tried in the due process of law."

Zar'Da nodded at the proclaimation of wanting to bring order to these lands. Coming from a place of pure chaos he could see why one would want to accomplish such a task.
"We will do our best to bring him in alive."

Thamol not to sure he like civilization.  He found humans use the word to mean they want other to act and do what they wish and if they didn't they find way kill you or lock you up.  They call that civilization.
However bring back someone alive was no problem.
"We will do our best find what they up to.  If bad we bring them back to you alive if possible.  So can tell use where we need go to find them?"

"According to my sources, he's been frequenting the cheaper and less reputable inns here in town.  Fisel is said to be a human of middle age, with pale blond hair, and he was dressed in grey robes and hood, and was seen with four other men in like raiment.  You might have to do a little asking around of your own in the poorer neighborhoods."  Major Grassreaver explained, and then bowed to all of you.
"Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go organize the pursuit of Neclonius.  Good luck!  You can always come for help here, should you need it."

Talvaroff stood up again, and bowed.
"We won't fail, milady.  I'll be off at once."

After the woman left Zar'Da turned to his companions and said,"Well, no rest for the wicked, eh. Where shall we start?"

"Zar'Da speak for your self.  Only fool walk the path of wicked.  However we are ready to go."
It seem the elf does not get joke this time.
"Any idea which way?"

During your day's visit, you got a fairly good feel for the layout of the town.  The fortress and great Bloodstone Gate stood to the east of most of Bloodstone Village, protecting it from the perils of Vaasa should it come close.  Most of the wealthier people lived deeper within the pass itself, on estates made of wood and stone on high ledges on the knees of the mountains.  The folk become poorer and poorer as you come further down the pass, until right up against the gate are the beggars, paupers, and refugees from wars both far away and near.  Most of the establishments that sell alcohol to these wretched souls are tucked out of sight along the sheer mountain cliffs in this section of the town.

As he walking along Thamol tries to find someone the talk to find information about what going on around the place.

OOC:
14:42, Yesterday: Thamol Liadon rolled 6 using 1d20+4. Gather information.

Zar'Da follows along with his companions as they begin their journey. As they grow colser and closer to the gates he is quite saddened by the poverty about. Even in the dark tunnels of Menzobarranzen drow almost never went without a roof over their head, because houseless meant dead or slavery. The young half drow would hand out a few silver to any children that looked in need, hoping the adults wouldn't take the coin from them.

Thamol's attempts to cajol information out of the locals is unsuccessful.  Perhaps he's just a little too strange, or people are just tight-lipped, but Thamol rarely gets more than a muttered, 'I don't know,' to his questions.

Asking around for a bar where the drink is easy and the women cheap. Or was it the other way around? Either way, he heads in and approaches the barman, speaking in his most gruff voice, and wearing an eye patch:

"Oi ugly. I need info and a drink and you're giving me both. I seek out some brethern, five guys in grey robes and hoods, supposedly led by a man with pale blond hair. I got the info they wanted and I wanna be shot of this place. By the way, nice hole." he spits onto the floor in a manly way.

It comes out in more of a baby dribble type effect.

The barkeep is indeed ugly, a tall, deathly thin old man with a missing ear.  He frowns and cracks his knuckles loudly as he leans slowly over the bar to look down on Penville.
"Well.  Well, well.  I might know about something like that.  But I'm old, and my memory is light.  As is my coin-purse." He winked and grinned, revealing gaps in his yellowed, crooked teeth.

Penville scratches his head.
"Errrm I've not got any teeth? I mean not for you."

*Rawwwulf*

"Ohhh right yes, of course. Erm" he shuffles around to get out some silver and slides it across the bar. Ot at least half way, as his arms can't reach that far.

"Maybe your memories coming back?" Penville says, hoping he's understood correctly as otherwise he's just left a generous tip.

Thamol decide to wait outside.  He never really happy indoors anyway.

The old man slowly scoops up counts the coins, poking them gently individually with his finger, muttering numbers to himself.  At last, he grins again, and pockets the money.
"Yeah, now it's all comin' back.  Fellow like that had a few drinks with his friends last night, he did.  All hooded and stuff, couldn't see their faces.  One or more of them smelled right bad, they did, though.  Anyway, couldn't help overhearin' somethin' about the cemetery, and shovels and stuff.  Mayhaps they're up to a bit of grave robbery.  None of my business, and, come to think of it, none of yours.  But I don't owe them nothing, so I'll tell you where they've gone.  They've gone out the Big Gate there, and from there I can't tell you where they went.  But it seemed like this grave robbery stuff's going down tonight.  If you're smart, you'll stay clear of the cemetery tonight.  There were at least five of them here last night, and they said something about the 'rest of us.'"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:00, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

Tapping his fingers on the bar he listened whilst his eyes started to wander to the back row of drinks, had that one, had that, not had that and don't want to by the reputation, oooh he's got that one and ... oooh what graverobbing? he clicks back to listening.

"Well then, here's another silver, so now you owe me, and I'll take payment in your continued silence about this rendezvous alright?" he winks and tries to swivel off the chair to land coolly and ready to walk off.

Being Penville however, his top gets caught and he falls off the bar stool backwards and almost manages to hang himself, before the bar stool falls on top of him, giving him a headache but stopping the attempted self suicidal hanging.

Brushing himself off he winks again, though it now looks more like a squint, and meanders out.

Zar'Da had wandered along quietly with the others then posted himself outside the bar when Penville went about his information gather mission. As the halfling exited the building he asked,"So, was it a fruitful conversation with the barkeep?"

Thamol moves closer to hear what was found out.

"Yeah, they serve the best beer in town apparently."

He hiccups.

"Well that will be useful.  Anything about the men we looking for."
Thamol for once seems to be focused on what they need to do.

"Oh right that" he says, shiftily looking around both ways to make sure no one is overhearing except the group.

"They going, or are at, they might have already beent hinking about it, to the cemetary, through the big gate. Apparently one smelt really bad, which makes me think, if they were all wearing hoods and things, that a zombie or an undead thing or something seeing how it's a necromancer could be with them and they could be digging up more mates, so I guess we should head there to get a good look." he hrrumphs. Which is easier than it looks.

Zar'Da cocked an eyebrow.
"They are foolish enough to do this in the daylight? Then they should be easy enough to find." the half drow said as he adjusted his sword and mace.

"The dead should be left to decompose and return to the land.  I think we should stop this.  I am sure lady of this land would be upset as would dead if they  knew."
He pulls a peace of meat up and give it to his owl.
"May I suggest when we get close Whitefeather here has a good look from on height to tell us numbers and anything useful before we go in and face them."

Talvaroff had escorted Penville inside.  The dog was, indeed, formidable, but the knight felt like the halfling needed some steel at his side.
He spoke after they left,
"Actually, he said it was happening later tonight."

"Then it looks like we have time to prepare before they do their dirty work. Shall we scout the area so we can have a better idea of the lay of the land."

"He said he didn't know" said the halfling, kicking a stone and looking down. "And they might be tehre now, seeing how most people don't liek cemetaries as they are always full of necromancers raising armies. I wonder if it's a result of a traumatic childhood?"

Everyone now began walking towards the graveyard.  The burial place for the citizens of Bloodstone Village was situated on a level patch of earth, about two hundred feet across on either side.  It was surrounded by a tall iron fence, which was well-cared for, except for a few decorative strings of ivy weaving its way through the bars.  Tall mausoleums and memorials raised their marble heads up to the sky, and gravestones stood in orderly rows, marking the final resting places of fathers, mothers, sisters, and brothers.
There was only one gate into the cemetery, and by it on the inside stood a small hut, with a large skeletal hand gripping a set of scales carved of wood sticking out of the roof; the symbol of Kelemvor.  Outside, a middle-aged half-elf in gray robes is peeling a potato into a wooden bucket.  As you approach, he rises and says,
"Well met, friends.  I am Daeron Feilus, priest of Kelemvor and caretaker of the Bloodstone Cemetery.  Are you here to visit, or do you have other business?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:45, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

"Other business," said Talvaroff, "We have reason to believe a grave robbery is going to take place here tonight.

"And we mean to stop it." Zar'Da said quietly from under the hood of his cloak.

Thamol decides to stay quite.  He not sure saying such things openly are good thing but the other know how deal with other people better then he does.

The man folds his hands, and looks down on the ground pensively.  At last, he says,
"It is standard procedure to put wards on the graves of the dead, especially those who wish to take valuable possessions with them, or as mementos from the survivors.  A needless vanity, but fancied by the rich and powerful.  However, I cannot use such Power.  My superior, Father Alexei, is attending the funeral rites of a general who was stationed in Vaasa.  He will not be back for several days, and therefore fresh graves are unprotected.
"No one has departed Faerun recently, except for Boris Akhmetov.  He was a relative of the King, and a great hunter, and friend to all who were hungry.  Many was the time that he put his life in terrible danger to slay some great beast, and then give all its flesh to the poor and destitute to eat, in a grand feast.  He died to the tusks of the Boar of Lonely Peak earlier this week, and in his dying breath he made his wish to have the spear that killed his foe buried with him.  This was done, as who are we to deny the wishes of the dying?  It is this spear, I guess, that the grave robbery is for.  It is of immense age and antique craft, and may be a relic of some manner."

"A dieing creature wish should be honored if does not effect anybody else in evil way."
The elf answer show his respect for cleric and for the died.
"It is possible this is target or they may be up to some other no good.  Would you be kind enought to show us the grave?"

Listening to the taller ones speak Penville shakes his head slowly, "It's a bit of a waste isn't it? I mean if it's a good spear and all whats a dead body going to do with it? It just seems like it's going to attract more and more interest and likely from people who are best suited not to have a spear of power."

He'd been around death, he knew dead bodies didn't need weapons. Unless they were living dead or the undead, but then they tried to kill him, so they didn't need weapons for that either. Halfling logic dictated weapons and the dead don't mix, unless you're sending a deadie dead again.

Talvaroff rested his hand thoughtfully on the hilt of his sword.  He had never thought about it very much, but he had always assumed that if he died, he would have his weapons buried with him as well.  It always seemed fitting.
However, he said nothing, as he waited for the priest and for his friends to decide what they were to do next.

"Mayhaps it would serve better to be extracted and placed in a museum, or maybe a memorial of this man."

Daeron shook his head.
"No.  To expose the bones of the deceased to the sun again is sacrilege.  It is against the Code of the Lord of the Dead.  Even for such a purpose as safekeeping the spear, I would not unearth Boris Akhmetov again."

"And I would not ask you to do such a thing.  Once a creature is layed to rest that is where it must stay."
One this Thamol seems ready to back the cleric up agaist the rest of the party.
"It seems our roles is to protect the grave so that it is left alone until your friend returns to cast the spell on it."

"So be it then. Show us to the site and we will set up a perimiter to safe gaurd the grave."

Daeron passed his hand over his eyes and flicked it towards you, apparently a gesture for a spell, though he spoke no words.  He studied you all briefly, and then said,
"Very well, follow me, please."
He opened the gates for everyone, and followed you through.
The cemetery as a whole was sizable, but one section had been further gated off.  Daeron guided you to this place, weaving his way along the gravel paths that ran between the tombstones.
The enclosed area held more ornate monuments and statues, and had several mausoleums.  It was about eighty feet across on all sides, surrounded by a five-foot high iron spiked fence.  Two gates stood at the north and south ends, but they had no lock as Daeron pushed them open.
He led you to a grave, which was marked by a shield made of white marble, with the emblem of two trees between a hunting horn carved between them.
"This is the final resting place of Boris Akhmetov."  Daeron said solemnly, as he looked upon it.  He then bowed to everyone, and said,
"I hope you will be able to ensure that his rest is undisturbed." and walked away.

OOC: What actions do you want to take?  Positions, patrol routes, anything?
The nobleman's graveyard is 80 ft. across, with a gate halfway along the south and northern fences.  Boris Akhmetov's grave is located halfway along the western fence, like a gate.  There are four 20-by-20 mausoleums (each of them sealed) in each corner, and a headstone, statue, or monument that gives cover as a narrow pillar every 10 feet, so you can move behind cover if you move 5 feet, basically.

Climbing up Penville will take a watch on the gate like resting place of Boris.

He will help Bigby jump up to, or patrol around the grounds, using his scent ability to try and find any secret passages or places for further investigation!

As the day grows to evening Zar'Da will become a roving guard just outside the fenced in compound, using his innate darkvision to watch for any approaching persons.

After Zar'da began patrolling, Talvaroff uncertainly drew his sword, and began practicing strokes in the air, while he waited for something to happen.

Evening fell over the city, as the graveyard kept its silence.  The moon was new, so the dark lay heavy over the scene.  Thoughts of ghosts and restless spirits come to mind, despite the care of the priests of Kelemvor, but nothing happens, for hour after hour.
But, suddenly, as Zar'da is keeping watch by the north gate, he heard voices and hoofbeats.  A crunch of gravel, and many boot-falls seem t indicate that several people have dismounted from the horses, and are approaching the gate.

Thamol wait a nice spot.  He got Whitefeather to sit on fence oposite the gate just in case they come in that way.  His wolf lays beside him.  The elf wait quitely.
At the noise he get up and move slolwy toward Zar'da.

After hearing the sounds Zar'Da moved just inside the gate within earshot of the others.
"It would seem we have visitors. Stay sharp." he whispers.

The footsteps came closer, and Zar'da could see a group of five figure approach the gate.  All were in grey robes, hooded.  Four of them had rapiers at their sides, while the one who led them seemed to have no weapon.  A small grey cat followed the heels of the leader, its yellow eyes flashing in the moonlight.
When they within ten feet of the north gate, they halted.  After a moment of discussion, which Zar'da couldn't hear, they split up.  Two began going around the perimeter of the fence, while the leader and two more hooded men walked through the gate.  The two outside make an effort to hide, and keep to the shadows, but some of you can keep your eyes on them.

OOC:  Everyone can see the men inside, but need to make Spot checks to see where the ones outside are going, unless you have darkvision or low-light vision.

Talvaroff had never set his sword aside, but did so now to place his dragon helm on his head and ready his shield.  He could see the hooded men on the outside of the cemetery slinking about, and watched them warily.

OOC: 20:26, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Talvaroff, rolled 18 using 1d20. Spot check.

Zar'Da held fast, watching the men move about. His hand slowly made it's way to the fine curved sword at his hip, ready to unsheath it at a moments notice.

Looking down briefly it appears he's up too high to properly wiedl his axe with an effectiveness unless one of the men would be kind enough to climb up to make it easier. So biting his lip (he hadn't realised he was THAT high up before) he picks his bow up from the rooftop and crouches down to be able to watch without being seen.

Bigby is also in stealth mode - preparing to move forward to attempt to flank with whomever seems easiest or closest should an attack be imminent.

Thamol quitly cast sheild on himself and point out the man to Ruff.  Getting her ready to attack.

Tarmes was about to challenge the men slinking around the outside, but thought better of it when she saw everyone slinking into the shadows.  She hid behind a tombstone, and began making her way quietly to flank the men inside the graveyard, drawing her throwing dagger as she moved

OOC:
13:01, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 30 using 1d20+11. Move Silently.
13:01, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 26 using 1d20+10. Hide Check.

The men on the inside came forward, but halted suddenly about twenty feet away from Boris Akhmetov's grave (15 feet away from everyone arrayed in front of it).  The man leading matches your description of Fisel; middle-aged, medium-length pale blond hair, and a thin nose.  He stops, and says in a deep, hoarse voice.
"Ah.  Good evening.  I'm Fisel Vladorovitch.  And what are such heavily armed persons such as yourselves doing here this fine evening?"  As he talks, he looks around briefly, as if taking in his surroundings.

Seeing as they have been discovered Zar'Da walks into the moonlight. He sweeps back the cowl of his cloak allowing his short white hair and ebony skin to be seen by the intruders, hoping to use his heritage to his advantage.
"We are here to see this tomb stays undisturbed." he said, his hand resting comfortably on the hilt of his sword, his shield strapped to his other arm.

"You see a threat to it, then?  Oh, yes, you suspect us.  Tell me, do you see any shovels, hm?" Fisel replies, putting his hands on his hips.  "Drow, yes?  What are you doing up here, anyway?  With a... knight?  What Order are you?  And an elf.  I thought you hated elves."

Talvaroff saluted with his blade, and replied,
"I am Sir Ivan Talvaroff, Warsword of Impiltur.  And we go openly; why do your companions not?  Why do they creep about in the shadows behind us?"

Thamol waits.  Ready to cast a spell or two.

Zar'Da smiled and said,"You obviously enjoy judging a tomb by it's cover. One should not believe all they read about the other races, we would surpirse you from time to time."

As Penville listens, he's not sure anymore who he'd want to shoot. What Zar'da had said just sounded wrong?

But help his ground... Roof.

Ruff.

No that was Bigby.

Was the moon out? He started looking around quickly for it.

"I know a lot about the other races, Master Drow," Fisel replies, "My companions are indeed quite... exotic.  And they are ugly, but vain!  So they don't wish to be seen, under sun or stars."  He laughed a little, and the two behind him laugh rather sycophantically.  "We are here only to pay respects to the brave departed.  Imagine!  The weapons he must have wielded, with such strength in his arm!  Tell me, do you know what he liked to use best?"

Zar'Da's hand went to his blade at the sound of the laughter then he relaxed.
"Pay your respects, huh. I hear he wielded a spear of considerable power, and quite well."

Fisel nodded, smiling, and said,
"Indeed!  He hunted many beasts and monsters with that spear.  I imagine he had it buried with him?  If I were a warrior, it would be a custom I would use."

"Indeed. And that is exactly where it is to stay, with him." Zar'Da said menacingly.

The two robed figures who had been creeping around behind suddenly leapt over the fence, and drew their long rapiers, each with a slight saw edge.  Every one of them flung back their hoods and cloaks, and pointed their weapons at you.  With their hods off, you could see that they are fiend-touched, tieflings.  Two of them are similar, with two goat horns curling around their ears, one of them has an unpleasant yellowish tint in his skin, and the third has boils around his eyes, and as his cloak flutters you catch his sulfurous stench.  Fisel smiled, and said,
"But I need it.  It's distasteful to shed blood in a hallowed place, so why don't you young fellows just back away?  Go get a drink at the tavern, forget what you've seen.  You'll be happier for it."

OOC: If everyone wants to fight, roll for initiative.  I'll take the average of everyone's rolls, and whoever has the highest average (the party or the enemies) goes first.  Actions will be resolved in post order.

Initiative: 9

22:41, Today: Thamol Liadon rolled 17 using 1d20+2. Initiative.

What do you wish to do about my wolf and owl?
Wolf will be a major part of battle.

OOC: I think your animal companions/familiars act on your initiative, at your command.
13:28, Today: Talvaroff rolled 14 using 1d20. Initiative.
I tried delaying my posts, but it didn't work.  So I'll just post Talvaroff's and Tarmes' actions after at least two people have posted.

OOC: 21:52, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 20 using 1d20+5. Initiative

12:48, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Penville, rolled 12 using 1d20+4. Initiative.

After waiting for this moment to strike all evening, the adventurers jumped to action immediately at this threat.

OOC: Everyone can act now, in post order.  I'll be posting Tarmes' stuff first, since she kinda needs the initiative order in her favor.

Seeing that these foul creatures were not going to listen to reason Zar'Da sprang into action. As moved Zar'Da tapped into one of the gifts his mistress granted him and a reddish glow eminatted from him (Free action: Activate Draconic Aura: POWER/ +2 to melee damage for myself and any companion within 30' of me). The young half drow moved forward and drew his sword. His face was just above his shield when he opened his mouth and a line of acid shot forth at the lead figure.

Thamol backs of away from the two groups of enemies.  As he does he commands ruff to guard him.  The wolf will attack anybody that tries to get to Thamol.  It's clear it waiting to ponce of any of creature if they come to near him.

Thamol then moves his arm in direction of one of the creature that jumped over the fence.  Two bolts of light come out of his and and hit the creature.

OOC:
Thamol move back about 20ft but only if safe do so.
He get Ruff to charge any of the creature if come towards Thamol.
Thamol cast magic missile at one of creature that jumped over fence.
23:58, Yesterday: Thamol Liadon rolled 8 using 2d4+2. Magic missile.
(Using magic item to increase caster level to 3).

Tarmes drew her dagger, and carefully lined up a shot.  Then she sent it whizzing through the air from the dark at one of the tieflings.  It whickered past his neck, flickering in the moonlight, and flew back to Tarmes' hand.

OOC: 18:49, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 16 using 1d20+12. Ranged attack roll (dagger).
18:51, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 4 using 1d4+3. Dagger damage
18:51, Today: DM Rockchucker, on behalf of Tarmes Werthor, rolled 8 using 2d6. Sneak attack damage.

Talvaroff turned to the tieflings that had jumped over the fence, to defend the flank.
He sliced heavily with his sword, and the thing nearly got out of reach in time.  But Talvarogg was too quick, and his blade shore through the leather armor.
OOC:
10:22, Today: Talvaroff rolled 16 using 1d20+10. Attack Roll.
10:22, Today: Talvaroff rolled 7 using 1d10+4. Damage.

Fisel managed to twist out of the path of the worst of Zar'da's acid breath, catching his arm in the blast.  The cloth shore away and the skin blistered, but he managed to keep his wits and get out of Zar'da's reach, running quickly and agilely backwards.
Meanwhile, the blades and spells of Thamol, Talvaroff, and Tarmes threw down three of the tieflings, and the last one, the especially foul-smelling one next to Fisel, saw the dire straits of the fight.  He skipped out of Zar'da's reach, and reared his head back and gaped his mouth wide.  A cloud of black gas poured from him, obscuring vision and at last solidifying into utter darkness, enveloping Zar'da.

For most the utter darkness would be unsettling but for Zar'Da it was nothing new. He had spent many years among the drow, the evil elves dropping globes of darkness like this on their enemies for centuries. The half-drow leveled his shield in front of himself and charged forward.

Thamol is little surprise that the group of creature did not put up more of a fight.  Being away from the group he sends another magic missile at any creature within range he can see.

OOC:
20:59, Today: Thamol Liadon rolled 1 using 1d100. Arcane Failure.

Talvaroff, though he was further away from Zar'da and had no idea how to navigate in the dark, tried his best and entered the cloud himself, probing here and there with his sword, keeping his shield to the front.  Peering through the dusk, he made out the form of the tiefling, and sliced his sword at it.

OOC: 08:59, Today: Talvaroff rolled 33 using 1d100. Miss chance (<20 misses).
08:59, Today: Talvaroff rolled 29 using 1d20+10. Attack roll.
09:00, Today: Talvaroff rolled 11 using 1d20+10. Confirm critical.
09:01, Today: Talvaroff rolled 5 using 1d10+4. Damage.

And Zar'da, you can make an attack roll too, unless you prefer I do.

Draconic Aura: POWER/ +2 to melee damage for myself and any companion within 30' of me.

Zar'Da slashed across in front of himself at the leader who had been there a moment ago, hoping he would score a solid hit.

Fisel wasn't in the darkness cloud, but Zar'da's and Talvaroff's blades cut down the evil-smelling tiefling, though the darkness remained.  Through the murk, they could see that Fisel had summoned an orange aura around his arms, and was flying away swiftly.  Tarmes spiritedly through a dagger at him in passing, and it whickered past his neck and drew a gout of blood before hurtling back to her, but he continued flying away, back to the horses outside the graveyard.

Zar'Da continued on through the murk until he broke through the other side (hopefully). Once out he tries to catch sight of Fisel.

Zar'da, fighting his way past the inky cloud, sees Fisel skimming over the gravestones.  He's a good distance off, but a few shots might be made after him, if they were quick with their arrows.

OOC: He's a good 80 feet away from Tarmes and Zar'da, and further from everyone else.

OOC: Did you mention there were horses near by?

OOC: There are some horses that they rode in on, hitched by the gate.  He's headed towards them, and they're sixty feet away from you.  He's eighty feet away, because he's higher in the air.

OOC:
Is anybody in range of my magic missile 120 range.

Figuring the man was out of the range of his small crossbow Zar'Da puts his head down and runs as fast as he can.

OOC: Movement 20'. Full run.

Talvaroff begins running too, his boots pounding the earth loudly as he ran as fast as he could, but trailing behind Zar'da.

Tarmes began running as well.  Not as burdened as Zar'da and Talvaroff, she quickly caught up and broke ahead, in the race to the horses.