[Chapter 3b takes place at a point in time which is future to the attack on the garrison. Lya has gotten herself captured and Evrik got captured in a botched rescue attempt. Other setting details will be revealed as the characters discover them.]

The Usher grins with anticipation: A new character is introduced! EvriK! Although at this stage in the play, the world is fraught with danger!

Lya felt herself bumping along in a cart, much like the one old Bill Figgins had been driving some time ago. Her body ached and cramped. Her hands were bound securely behind her back and her knees and ankles were bound as well. When she felt strong enough to open her eyes, she did so to find herself staring upward at gray clouds on the verge of rain. She was breathing through her nose, because her mouth was stuffed with a gag. She tried very hard to sort out what was going on and how she'd gotten here, but right now thinking made her head hurt.

She turned her head to the side and saw another person laying on the cart deck beside her, but unmoving. It was a male, human-looking except for the slightly knife-like features similar to her own. He had dark brown hair and wore well-oiled leathers. That was about all she could tell about him. She felt weak and tired and very hungry and as the cart hit a bump, she felt a little bit sick in her stomach as well.

Just a quick little scene to get this Chapter started. Evrik's been patiently waiting. I'll post if/when I can over the weekend, depending on the cold and snow where I'm at...

Lya closed her long lashed eyes again, covering their jade green irises while she tried to make sense of her situation.

Her slender form was bound. Bound. A shiver ran through her and she fought against panic. She would have whimpered except even her mouth was bound...with a gag. She strained against her bonds without moving, testing them. Her hands were bound behind her she found and her...yes...her knees and ankles as well. She dreaded to think about how she might have been touched and where while she was unconscious and trussed up. Concentrating, she listened to the aches of her body, trying best she might to discover what had been done to her while she was out.

Next she calmed herself as best she could and took stock of what her senses were trying to tell her. First her sense of touch, though that had been much abused and was transmitting a whole catalogue of complaints to her. Warm or cold, damp or dry.

She then listened to her surroundings with her faintly elven looking ears. The sound of the cart was obvious as it made it's jolting way along. But what kind of road was it jolting over? What other sounds could she hear...birds, wind, the sounds of the sea, people? She listened and sorted.

Finally she took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. First she looked herself over best she could. What did she still have? How was she dressed? Were her weapons still in their sheaths on her belt? At her back? Did she still have her pack? Her locket?

After that she looked over at the still form beside her but she couldn't make out much from it except what she had already discovered. Another half elf and male.

The world, it seemed, was suddenly sprouting with the byproduct of elven and human misbehavior. First Haymane and now this one. Misbehavior, at least in the eyes of her father's family, who had so callously sold her off to a fat desert city prince as a concubine. Exotic for her looks and her mixed heritage. She, herself, had become nothing more than a bauble. And now a captured one she reflected.

Shaking the woolgathering from her head she looked about the cart she was in and then tried her best to sit up and take a look at her surroundings. Where was she? How had she gotten here? She tried, hard, to remember the events that had befallen between when she'd recovered the sword and locket and now.

A low rumble wakes the woodsman from his induced slumber. His eyes flutter open to see storm clouds gathering above him. Ervik attempts to move but quickly find that he has been bound. In addition, his muscles ache and his head throbs with pain worse than the morning after a victory celebration.

The half-elf strains his muscles in an attempt to loosen the bonds but he only succeeds in tiring himself needlessly further. Instead of continue the fruitless endeavor, he attempts to recollect his thoughts of how he ended up in such a predicament.

At the same time he shifts his body and twists his neck to get a view of his immediate surroundings. That is when he spots his cellmate; a female with chiseled, yet comely features.

Ervik goes to speak but quickly realizes that his mouth is gagged with some soiled cloth. Disregarding the bitter dryness in his mouth, he instead nods his head and slightly raises his eyebrows to acknowledge her.

The woodsman then returns to his surveillance of the cart and their captors.

The bumps of the cart were a little too consistent to be the random mudholes of a country road. Looking upwards and over their heads towards the front of the wagon, the tied-up duo could see a pair of gray-clad soldiers driving the cart. They were conversing in a language that neither of the pair could understand, but at least to one of them was becoming at least recognizable as of late.

A quick scan of the wagon's contents showed that they'd been thrown in with a load of supplies, weapons and tack. Near the tailgate boards were two bundles which belonged to the two of them. After what seemed like a moderate amount of time the wagon slowed a little and the sound of horse-hooves on cobbles could be heard. Above them, the gray clouds which had been threatening rain, let loose with just a few teasing drops.

~~~~

Lya had been working her way North and East in an effort to reach Falport and find a ship to get her further away from lower Zeland and the nightmares she'd experienced there. What might have been an enjoyable journey had been anything but. The farmers in the region seemed to have suddenly become depressed, even apathetic towards their crops and animals after the earthquakes and storms which had taken place. There had been fires and quite a lot of devastation. They seemed to no longer be the same friendly and helpful folk they had been before. She'd remembered Old Bill Figgins and wondered how he was getting along.

Besides the change in the general feeling of the region, there were now occasional patrols of gray-clad soldiers along the major roads and always a few posted at bridges. Lya had carefully avoided them, but once had observed a confrontation between a farmer and his family who seemed to have just given up and had pulled stakes. The soldiers demanded that they return to their farm and would not allow them to cross a narrow bridge. The farmer had tried to coax his team across, disregarding the given command. His life ended moments later in front of his wife and children.

The beautiful Elfish young woman felt less than beautiful by the time she'd reached the outskirts of Falport. Her clothing was torn, her hair was a rat's nest, and she felt constantly soaked to the bone and hungry. It had taken much of her skill she'd learned as a thief to secure new raiment and money for food. Falport was under the control now of a small contingent of the gray-clad army and the city, like the countrysides around it, seemed to be a place which had lost all hope. It was puzzling, for the size of the occupying force didn't seem large enough to really have the kind of power necessary to run the place, but it was said the Falport authorities barely raised a finger in defense, the city watch just dropped their weapons as if they were a burden. They didn't seem to care. The feeling was so pervasive that Lya felt herself wondering why she would even bother to try and leave. In fact, she felt little desire to do much of anything that wasn't absolutely necessary for her own survival. It was the images of the vision Haymane had shared with her that kept her from slipping completely into the slothful sentiment.

One day her ship came in, rather it was the ship of a raggedy looking crew and a grizzled captain. They seemed immune to the affects of the city and surrounding area, and strangely the gray-clad soldiers paid them little heed. Lya disguised herself and gained the promise of passage to Zel City, the capital of Zeland, and hopefully a place where there was much more opportunity for a girl of her... talents. Besides that, she was sick of the stench of swine.

~~~~

The wagon came to a halt, and the sounds of guards talking with the wagon drivers could be heard. From their position in the bottom of the wagon, they only caught the last part. "...хајде путем..."

The wagon jounced ahead and they were moving through a gate in what must be a city wall. In the brief time they saw it, they both noticed the moss growing on the heavy wooden beams. The gate, up until now, had been very rarely used. Soon, on either side of them, they could see buildings constructed of stone and beam, strong and stout and similar in architecture to those throughout Zeland, a nation of hardy and hard-working folk.

Then they turned down a very narrow street. The gray sky seemed far above them do to the gloom of the way they traveled. It was cooler here. The normal sounds of a city seemed to come to them, only they were subdued and the two both felt that same weight upon them, urging them to give up, to quit, and to no longer even care...

~~~~

Evrik had chanced upon the young half-elven woman as she was about to board the ship leaving Falport. His story had been similar to her own, for he too had been working to remain hidden and trying to make his way to the port city. So far, the woodsman had been able to shrug off the feelings of despair, and he was highly motivated to be on that ship.

Not long after they'd boarded and moved out of the harbor leaving Falport, another series of storms blew in. It seemed especially stormy lately and unseasonal for the late summer. The air felt cold too. The captain and crew were not overly friendly, the kept to themselves and left Lya and Evrik alone for the most part.

It was perhaps the third day at sea that they were invited by the captain to his cabin to share a meal. During that time he asked a lot of questions and seemed to gage the reactions to them more than the answers. He told them that Zel City had just been taken over as had all of the other cities in Zeland as far as he knew. The invasion had been quick and for the most part, fairly bloodless. People seemed to just not care...

He offered them a chance to get into the city in exchange for taking some information to a contact of his there. Had they known what that might entail, they might have just jumped ship and risked dealing with sharks.

~~~~

The wagon again clattered to a halt before a gate or some other obstruction. The driver and other soldier seemed to be agitated about something. Then there was only gurgling noises...

A couple of shady-looking men appeared, not dressed in gray nor any other sort of uniform. They produced daggers and deftly cut the cords which bound Lya and Evrik. Once they were free, they could remove their gags.

"If any of this is yours, grab it and let's move. We don't have much time!" The speaker was the taller of three men dressed in the dirty and torn vestments of lower class laborers. One of the men pulled the bodies of the dead soldiers down, stripped them of their uniforms and then slid them down through a drainage duct that ran along the cobbled street.

~~~~

This scene won't be long, but you'll have a chance to RP out a little bit of the backstory of how you got here and why you were bound and gagged. This will set up the rest of the chapter.

The woodsman tries hard to remember the encounter with the soldiers and what lead him to his current predicament. He is just recounting his seaward journey and the captain's offer when the cart comes to a halt.

The half-elf's stomach tightens as he sees three grubby men appear, two holding daggers. Ervik stares in surprise as the men cut the bonds that bind his limbs and that of his new companion. Rubbing the aches from his wrists, he hesitates at the tall man's words. He casts a glance to the woman; trying to judge her reaction and read any cues in an effort to discern if she knows what is going on.

Cautiously, Ervik slides forward and dismounts from the cart. He grabs his weapons and his pack and gladly puts them on. Feeling somewhat more confident in his situation, he falls in line behind his captors. As they begin to march toward their destination, he looks to the half-elf and says dryly "The name's Ervik."

As soon as the men cut her ties Lya was up. Enough of this. She quickly rifled through the packs in the cart, deftly searching through them for anything that might be of use to her, food to round out her meager supply, small weapons to add to her arsenal. She had given up believing in future fortune and took what she could when she could to ensure her immediate survival.

What was so wrong, she wondered as she sorted through the packs, about wanting a few good things and to live peacefully and comfortably? It wasn't like she wanted to be rich or powerful and it wasn't like she'd ever stolen from decent hard working people. In fact, she'd gone out of her way to be helpful, especially in recent times. But it seemed that whoever kept a tally of such things was in a thorough snit and was taking an almost perverted glee in further ruining her already ruined life. Be that as it may she refused to feel sorry for herself anymore and instead was rapidly adopting an "up yours!" attitude. If "Tally Keeper" wanted to be in a snit she could give it snit for snit back!

After quickly going through the packs she turned, found her own pack, checked the contents, set it and her other equipment and garb to rights and hopped down from the cart.

When Ervik re-introduced himself some of her memory came back to her. They'd met, briefly, she recalled, as they'd gone aboard that misbegotten sow of a wallowing tub. Then they'd met again when that scurvy ridden excuse for a ship's captain had inundated them with questions and a request to perform a service. If she could only remember what had happened between that meal and waking in the cart!

She nodded to Ervik as she looked about her and drops of cold rain fell on her dirt smeared face and tangled hair. "Lya."

Hitching her pack higher on her back she followed after the men who'd liberated her. No one did anyone favors without expecting something in return so she began immediately formulating plans to ditch these rough looking men and whomever they worked for as soon as their intent towards her looked to be even worse than she already expected it would be.

Quickening her step she came up alongside one of them and in a low voice asked, "What is this place and who are you people? Not that I'm not glad you freed me but there's too much I don't know." Her look was intent and direct.

OOC: Should Lya find any food in the supplies she'll take anything that is small and looks like it might keep. Should she find small weapons of any sort, especially anything that she can hide about her person, she'll take those too. Of course, should there be anything else of conceivable value that is small enough and / or light enough to take she will take that also. Lya will try her overwhelming charisma to elicit a satisfactory answer from the man she asked her question of.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:53, Mon 24 Nov 2014.

Lya quickly shuffled through the contents of the cart as the three ruffians and Ervik waited impatiently. There were some barrels of early summer apples and a few other foodstuffs, some cheap swords and pieces of armor, several bundles of arrows, boots, soap, crockery, and other necessities to bolster the needs of a squad of soldiers.

OOC: You find standard stuff. Flip me for it. 1d2. Odd I "win" and you gather nothing useful, Even you "win" and you get three useful items of your choice.

Two of the men moved out at a rapid pace through the alleys. The other hung back toward the rear, not so much in the way of a guard keeping prisoners from escaping, but more to keep a watch over their tails. They went a few blocks, with the leader of the fivesome stopping at each intersection for a quick look before the crossed a narrow street into another alley. Once they had to stop behind a wagonfull of straw and manure for a party of gray-clad soldiers to pass. That's when the leader chose to answer Lya's questions, leaning in and whispering in her ear. He smelled like the alleys and his breath was hot.

"Ya be in the Old Court, the part of Zel City which was here first. We're to help ya deliver whatever it is ya be bringin'! An' we can't tell ya our names 'cause we don't trust ya... an' it ain't allowed ya, at least not yet. Come on!" He turned away quickly lest the charms of a beautiful, but disheveled Elf-girl beguile him from a mission he was obviously committed to. The second of the ruffians smiled at his companion and shook his head which elicited a scowl from the first.

The leader spurted across the cobblestone road and motioned for the others to follow. After several more long moments of winding around in alleyways and corridors between the riverstone buildings, which may have only been done to confuse the two of them, Ervik and Lya were brought to a simple wooden door. One of the ruffians went to the far end of the passage and the other trailed back the way they'd come. One scratched his head, the other groped at an itchy armpit. These must have been some signals, for when the signs were switched, the leader pounded thrice upon the door and then led them down inside.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:54, Mon 24 Nov 2014.

Lya snorted derisively to herself as she discovered nothing useful in the barrels, bags, and packs. Didn't these people know to provide for destitute thieves down on their luck? Nevertheless Lya availed herself of several tasty looking apples and a couple of bars of soap before turning to pick up her pack.



16:07, Today: Lya rolled 1 using 1d2 with rolls of 1. "Usefull stuff".

OOC: Just a short post to fill in the necessary description that results from the die roll. Will post again later.

Lya passed Evrik one of her apples as they went along the alleyways while she ate another. "Here. If your stomach is as queasy feeling as mine is this might help."

When they came to the wagon the smell of manure fell like a miasmic cascade down to her sharp elven nose and her already queasy stomach became even more nauseatingly unsettled. Then the leader of the ruffians chose at that moment to whisper in her ear. Well to him it may have been a whisper but to her sensitive ears he might as well have been holding forth at some wharf-side tavern. The smell of him and his hot breath on her cheek were almost more than she could bear but she kept her face passive and, by not looking at him directly, managed, though it was a close thing, to not liberate the contents of her stomach into his face.

As they made their way across the Old Court, Lya made a concerted effort to keep her sense of direction intact and to memorize the way out from here if the need should arise. She couldn't blame the man for not trusting her. The feeling was mutual and returned with interest. As far as what they carried...who was to say? The Captain, gods rot his hide, had been more cagey than she felt was necessary, but she was not about to go prying into whatever it was they were delivering as it's intactness might well spell the difference between being "brought into the fold" or ending up yet another, albeit delectable, body floating anonymously in the fetid sewers of the city.

OOC: If you like I could roll INT to see if Lya can keep her sense of direction and memorize how they got to the door and roll WIS to see if she realizes it might be a good idea to try. Heh. Just trying to take a more "proactive" (gods how I hate corporate speak) roll in Lya's welfare.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Tue 25 Nov 2014.

Ervik catches the unexpectedly, tossed apple and flashes a toothless smile at his companion. "Thanks, it has been a while since I've eaten one on this journey," he says to her dryly.

The woodsman delves into the apple eagerly; it's crispness breaking the silence of their journey through the alleyways. He took in the sights of the city, carefully attempting to find recognizable areas.

As the group hides from the watch, he overhears the whispered words of the leader. Like his companion, his ears easily detect the whispered words. He runs his hands through his hair as he tries to recollect what he has heard about this city.

Moving onward, Ervik finds the ruse they use to signal their arrival comical. As they make a move into the building, he takes the secluded moment from the guards to whisper to Lya. "I stand beside you should the time come," he hisses under his breath.

Just inside the doorway was a narrow landing with bare stone walls. The leader of their rescuing threesome and one of the other men accompanied Lya and Ervik through the door, which closed behind them. They stood in dark silence for a few moments before a word was uttered and the stone wall illuminated slightly before it began to shimmer. Their leader walked up to the wall and then went right through! He seemed to pass through the water illusion.

Beside the two half-elves, the other ruffian was grinning. "Bit unnerving idn't it?" he asked in a low rough voice. "It won't hurt ya..."

The sensation of passing through the illusion was unique, something like putting one's hand into a bucket of cool clay, but this was all over. Once on the other side, the sensation stayed behind and the wall again solidified. Before them was a hallway going to their right, and a very narrow spiral staircase leading down. They were forced to walk single file. The leader led the way, which is something a leader ought to do until they'd descended two or maybe three floors deep into the earth although there were no other side doors or anything to gauge this assumption by.

Finally, they passed through a thick wooden door which was shut behind them by the other ruffian. The leader strode forward into a large dimly lit room with a crude but large table covered with maps and scrolls. Around the table stood several men and one woman. Most of them looked to be similarly dressed as their ruffian guide save the woman and one man.

They were directed to stand to one side as their leader spoke quietly with the others at the table. Both Lya and Ervik could easily overhear the man's words. He was simply telling the others that a message had arrived and the two newcomers were the messengers.

The man who was not dressed as a street ruffian moved away from the table and walked over to face them. He was handsome in a sort of unfinished sort of way. His simple doublet and hose were clean but not very fancy. His bearing bespoke leadership, possibly even nobility. He gave them each a tired smile. "I won't keep you long, I'm sure you're very tired and you both look like you could use a bath. Why don't you give me your message and then I'll have my men see you to an Inn or anywhere else in the city you'd like to go."

He placed his hands behind his back and stood expectantly.

"Well",said Lya cautiously, "if there ever was a message then I don't remember it. The last thing I do remember is getting questioned by the Captain of the ship we were on and being asked if we would deliver a message for him. After that...nothing. If he gave us a message I have no memory of it nor do I have anything that he may have given me as everything I do have is what I had before boarding the ship. Unless, of course, it was written on me somewhere. So maybe that bath isn't such a bad idea. Would you care to watch while I bathe?" she asked sardonically.

The expectant man's eyes narrowed as Lya claimed she knew nothing of any message, but then his eyes became very wide when she asked her brazen question. He stood there for a brief moment blinking his eyes at the unexpected remark.

"Something wrong with your jaw muscles Waldric?" the only other woman in the room asked. "It sort of looks that way, you know, with your mouth hanging open like that..." The woman pushed herself away from the table and walked gracefully over to stand before Lya and Ervik.

"Please don't startle our poor Waldric so young lady, he's just barely escaped from that awful monastery he's been held prisoner in for the last twenty years..." she leaned forward and whispered, "he gets a little tongue-tied when he sees a pretty face."

The man, Waldric, seemed then to shake off his condition at the jest of the woman. A slight scowl replaced the look of shock and he pulled the woman back to stand behind him. He glared at her briefly. "If you don't remember the message you were to deliver, then you're really quite useless to us. Now why don't you try real hard to remember this time. and believe me, we'll know if you're lying, Miss...?"

Beside him the well-dressed woman smiled, but there was an edge to the way she held her eyes. The two got the feeling that these were people that shouldn't be crossed.

[Private to Lya: Something about the name Waldric sparks your memory a bit, but you can't seem to put your finger on it. In fact, you're not really convinced the memory has anything to do with your current circumstances. Your thoughts seem fuzzy and slippery.]

[Private to Ervik: Something about the name Waldric sparks your memory a bit, but you can't seem to put your finger on it. In fact, you're not really convinced the memory has anything to do with your current circumstances. Your thoughts seem fuzzy and slippery.]

Lya was tempted, sorely, to roll her eyes and sigh eloquently but forbore. Instead she answered, "Lya. My name is Lya."

She was through being intimidated and bossed around by every two-bit wannabe that came along in her life so she returned Waldric's hard look with one of her own, letting him see the hard core of fire and resolve that she usually kept hidden under her soft, beautiful, exterior.

"I don't care much for you're tone friend.", she snapped. "A person might begin to believe that you think you own me. You don't. So now I ask how you came to know to rescue me and my companion from that cart. I have told you what I know and I really don't appreciate being suspected of wrongdoing by someone I've never met. Suppose you tell us some things now. Maybe that'll free up something from my memory if there is anything to remember. For all I know my companion and I are the message. As in maybe we were sent to help you."

OOC: Did a successful charisma check, should you choose to take it into account, to see if Lya can browbeat Waldric into at least reasonableness with the force of her personality. Not trying to see if she can get him to eat out of her hand of course. At least...not yet. Heh.

09:44, Today: Lya rolled 3 using 1d20 with rolls of 3. Charisma check.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:52, Wed 03 Dec 2014.

The leader of the ruffians and his man snorted humorously when Lya said her name. They grinned at each other and mouthed the word "Lya-er" at each other.

Waldric seemed to miss the joke as he was suddenly under the influence of lips too full for an elf and a slender neck too long for a human. Lya had been blessed with the beauty of human coloring and curvature as well as the exotic angles and proportions of the elves. Even when terse she was stunning. Even with ripped up clothing, bruises and hair that looked like a rat slept in it, she was dangerously attractive. He seemed to stammer a bit, again finding it difficult to form words properly. The other men standing around the table straightened and focused on the pretty creature in their midst.

It was the woman who spoke next, breaking the spell as it were. "Oh snap out of it, you're all acting like a bunch of cloistered monks or something." She eyed Lya up and down and pursed her lips as if to say something, then shook her head as she thought better of it.

"She's telling the truth Waldric. Give them the antidote..."

Waldric hesitated but a moment and went to a wooden box on a shelf near the table. He glanced around at the other men who nodded their assent. He took two small stone vials from the box and brought them over to Lya and Ervik. One last look at the woman, who nodded, and he gave them over.

The stoppers were sealed with wax so the contents would not leak, and there was a slight aroma of sweetness, berries perhaps?

Lya reached out her hand without hesitation and took the stoppered vial from Waldric's hand, broke the seal, and, looking him in the eye the whole time, removed the stopper and upended the vial letting the contents fall into her open mouth. When the vial was empty she shut her mouth and swallowed the draught. At this point she had no intention of showing anything less than courage and resolve. Later she could take herself to task for her impetuous behavior. Licking her lips with teasing seductiveness she handed him the now empty container and waited for the antidote to take effect.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:44, Wed 03 Dec 2014.

The liquid went down smoothly and indeed tasted as it had faintly smelled. As everyone's eyes remained locked on each other for a long tense moment nothing happened. Then...

The room began to grow dark...
 The floor began to sway to and fro...
  The walls of the room seemed to push outward...
   The ceiling disappeared and was replaced by stars...


~~~~

Lya found herself standing on the deck of a ship. A man stood beside her and another, a scruffy-looking Captain was handing her a vial... She drank it with a trembling hand.

"...is the only way we've found to smuggle people into the city. The Oraxian army has tight control over the Capital. Ships are currently forbidden from leaving or entering the river. You'll be trussed up as political prisoners to be delivered to a stockade where such prisoners are being tortured and murdered. Fear not, you'll be rescued and our agreed upon payment will then be given you..." the Captain's voice sounded far away and difficult to separate from the sound of waves crashing on a seashore and the wind flapping in the sails.

"...you'll not remember any of this from the time you drank the poison. Like I explained earlier, it is for our protection... and yours. Should the rescue fail, which it won't, and you are tortured, you will have nothing to tell and you'll either be thrown back into holding or killed quickly... if you were to remember anything, well it's best not to think about it..."

The swells of the sea made her stomach churn and her face ache. She felt as if she might vomit.

"...this is the message you'll give when you're given the antidote and your memory of this night returns: The Seven have Fallen. The Highs are now Low. Flames have been Put Out. Sparks Smolder in the Darkness. One has Flared. The Hawk Hunts..."

Lya then drank a second vial and began to feel as if she were sinking through the deck of the ship into the cold waters below...

~~~~

The slipperiness in her mind seemed to slither away and her memories returned. Those gathered around her were members of a resistance against the occupation of the gray-clad army of Lord Orax. Lya had agreed, many nights ago aboard a leaky ship, to take a message to the resistance in exchange for a very tidy sum and a measure of protection within the city. She'd been told that the Capital, Zel City, was likely the safest place to be at the moment for at least Zeland had been taken quickly and was not in open, bloody war like her surrounding nations.

As promised, the poison was negated by the antidote and her memories returned. Now it was expected she give them the message. As her dizziness passed, she could not help but notice that many hands had gone to rest on weapons.

"Lya, please tell us the message."

"Gimme a sec..." she slurred as she slumped to the floor in an undignified heap of ratty hair, torn clothes, and sewer splotched skin. Her stomach chose at this moment to rebel, yet again, and her face assumed a greenish tint as she fought off the nausea that threatened to bring up her recently eaten apple.

For a moment she panted, her mouth filling with saliva as she held her spinning head between her knees. Finally the worst of it passed and she looked up at them with harrowed face.

"The Seven have Fallen. The Highs are now Low. Flames have been Put Out. Sparks Smolder in the Darkness. One has Flared. The Hawk Hunts..." she said clearly with the last of her strength. With that she gave into her body's demand and she slumped to her side unconscious with a final muttered, "Keep your hands off my..."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Thu 04 Dec 2014.

Unfortunately for Lya, the onset of a sickened condition as the poison and it's antidote worked their way through her body distracted her from the reaction of those in the room. She did hear a few gasps though before she fainted away.

~~~~

A cold sensation on her forehead and neck brought her awake. She was lying on a cot and had a rough and not-very-nice smelling coat across her upper body. Over her was the leader of the ruffians who had guided her and Ervik to their delivery location. He was patiently swabbing the remnants of her sweat with a moist bit of cloth.

"Ah, there ya is..." he said quietly with a smile. "Musta been a worm in hat apple ya ate!"

Lya took in the unfocused face of the ruffian leader as he dabbed at her. Her nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell of the coat lying on her chest. Her head still swam a little but her stomach, for the moment at least, seemed to have decided to behave itself.

"Um..." she said.

She tried to sit up but winced as a stabbing pain behind her eyes forced her to lie back again. Her head felt like the gods had hammered at it on their Forge. Worm my pretty little behind she thought savagely. That was the last time she volunteered to let herself be poisoned. What was she thinking? It came to her then. Gold. Damn.

The thought of her payment drove her to sit up on the cot despite the pain as she waved off her rescuer's hand. The torrent of inevitable questions followed.

"How long have I been lying here? Where am I? Where's my payment?"

She caught herself in mid-spate and gave the concerned looking man a smile calculated to be both warm and a tad sheepish. "Sorry. Thanks for caring for me. I don't think I ever got your name?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:05, Sat 06 Dec 2014.

"Relax," said the leader of the ruffians. "Ya've not been out long. It's fairly common t'have that reaction. Why'dya think there's these cots down here? Here, take a drink..." He handed her a dented metal cup full of cool water. As she sat up to take it, she noticed another cot stretching away from her at her feet. Upon it was the still unconscious form of Ervik. She realized that she knew very little of him, their acquaintance had been a flurry.

She remembered a few more bits and pieces now of what had happened after they'd been drugged by the Captain. There had been a struggle on a beach somewhere. She'd been captured and Ervik had come to help her, and then... she'd awoken in the back of a wagon. It was all still a bit strange, but at least her memories had not been lost in a swirling void like she'd felt earlier. Her stomach churned once more in response to that thought.

Across the dimly lit room, was the table once again surrounded by the same group which had originally been in the room. Waldric was at the head, the woman at his right hand, and the others around the rest. They were discussing in hushed tones the things which Lya had told them. Once in a while they'd point to a map.

The other ruffian which had accompanied them down here was sitting on a stool near Ervik. He wasn't getting the same care she'd gotten... his nurse was leaned back against the wall snoring!

The ruffian leader smiled as Lya lowered her cup. "That's yer second attempt. I ain't tellin' ya my name... I don't trust ya!" He finished with a wink. "When yer companion wakes up and ya feel up to it, I'll escort ya across town. There's a safehouse set up near the Central Market. Ya can use it until ya find a place of yer own. As for yer reward, ya'll have to ask Waldric..."

[Private to Lya: I'm not sure where Ervik went off the rails. He hasn't logged in all week, and the last PM I got from him said he's been delayed, but hasn't left the game. Soo... I really don't know what to think. At this point in the story though, you can just continue to RP and if Ervik is needed for something, we can wake him up and I'll NPC him until his player returns. Sorry about that.]

Reward. Hah. It was payment clear and simple. And she wanted her well earned gold. Now. And as for not trusting her. Bah. Talk about trusting. As if it weren't a major leap of faith to drink that first vial down knowing full well what could have happened to her. It didn't bear thinking too long on.

"Well Nameless" she said, returning wink for wink, "Time for me to see to my interests...and those of Waldric over there."

With an effort Lya rose off the cot onto unsteady legs and made her way slowly over to the table, one hand on her still uneasy belly. Waiting politely until the little group at the table became aware of her and deigned to look her way she said, "Well. I think it's time for you all to honor your part of the bargain. I'd like my payment for services rendered if you don't mind. Once I have that and I've settled in I would be more than happy to lend a further helping hand. I can't say that I would be happy living in a world that this one looks to be shaping into. I hope I don't have to drink any more poison or get trussed up again to prove my intentions to you."

Lya finished speaking and, after nodding to her audience, walked over to where Evrik was lying and sat down beside him on the cot taking cloth and water in hand from where they were lying neglected at the side of the snoring man and began gently wiping the worst of the sweat and grime from her companion's face and neck.

Waldric looked up from the maps he and the others had been scouring during their discussions. He smiled at Lya warmly though his face was drawn by worry. The others wore similar masks and the feeling of stress, even desperation was palpable.

"Glad to see you on your feet Lya. I apologize for the effects of the poison, but hopefully your memory has returned enough so that you understand the risks involved with a message falling into the... wrong hands. You've done us, Zeland and the whole of the Seven Kingdoms a great service, one that will never be foot-noted in the chronicles of our time, but nevertheless will have been noteworthy."

He walked around the table and came to face the bedraggled woman who'd put her life on the line for a... job, perhaps though, deep down it had been more. Waldric handed her a small leather purse. It was heavy to the hand... gold. The usual standard of trade throughout the Seven was silver, which was much more available than gold. Only when large transactions were required did they occur in the form of gold, and only then in the absence of gems or other commodities. Gold was rare and highly coveted. It had been almost three hundred years now since the Dragon called by the minstrels, Hell-Keeper, had raided the strongholds of the Seven and had attempted to enslave at least two colonies of dwarves, all in order to slake his lust for the precious metal. It was that lust which ultimately consumed the beast. A crazy dragon is a destructive one, but was more easily defeated by a band of heroes tasked by the leaders of the Kingdoms. It was the first expression of unilateral unity they'd shown in nearly a millenia. Much of the precious gold extant in the world at the time had been lost in the depths of the world when Hell-Keeper had been destroyed.

Now Lya had a pouch of the stuff for her own. Waldric was not finished giving rewards however. From within his sturdy vest he produced a small scroll. It was a set of directions which would lead to a prize, a cache of hidden items, powerful and said to be magical in nature.

"If you and your companion there would like to help, I will allow you to memorize the information on this scroll. With the Capital now occupied, the Oraxian army is seizing any and all enchanted items it can find. There are stiff penalties for anyone found in possession of them, no matter the degree of their power, usefulness or necessity. Many have already disappeared, where we do not yet know. If you were to recover this cache for us, we will reward you, and your friend there, with one each of the items you return. Be warned though that this is not a task to be undertaken lightly. The City is a dangerous place right now, and the little resistance we've been able to mount has been retaliated against very brutally." He held out the scroll. "What do you say?"

[Private to Lya: The purse contains the equivalent of 100 GP, though not all in coins. There are some bars and jewelry, etc. That's equivalent to 2000 Silver, which is quite the tidy sum. I'm adopting the silver standard in this game, so prices for equipment should be in silver instead of gold. Lya's got enough to be fairly well-funded for a while.]

Smiling warmly Lya said, "I say...that this looks to be both a profitable first step in our association and something in which I can be of help to Zeland. So, yes, I am happy to accept"

Lya took the pouch and secreted it away in her shirt. Then she took the scroll and opened it to study and commit it's contents to memory before handing it back and going over to where Evrik lay on the cot.

After mopping the sweat from his forehead and neck she looked up and said, "Since you are interested in finding magical artifacts would I be correct in assuming that you have someone with some degree of skill in identifying their nature and use? If so I have an item or possibly two that might bear a bit of scrutiny while we wait for Evrik to wake."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:54, Tue 09 Dec 2014.

Waldric shot a glance at the woman, whose name Lya still had not managed to ascertain. She nodded and gestured to one of the other men gathered there. "It may help for Lya to know what she possesses so that she may understand better how to mask anything she might have which can be sniffed out..."

The man she had pointed to came forward a bit from the shadows of the room cast by the oil lamp which they'd been using to read their maps by. He had been so nondescript that Lya soon realized she'd overlooked him entirely. He reached up and pulled back a deep blue hood. He had shortly shorn gray hair and a beard of the same color. Mingled among his wrinkled face were the darker lines of tattoos, marks of arcanum. His hands were gnarled and this fingernails slightly claw-like. The robes he wore beneath a thin raggedy smock were the same deep blue of his hood. When his lips parted, Lya could see his teeth were all filed into points, but had rounded over the ages of his life. His skin was slightly gray-ish, and his eyes... his eyes seemed to look right into her.

"This is Embram of the..." but then she paused, "...once a member of the Arcaeum Ethyrn... He may be able to assist you."

Lya looked at Embram for a moment and then walked back over to the table and opened her pouch. Reaching into it she took out the ring she'd found on the leader of the raiders that had attacked the garrison and laid it on the table.

She then reached and drew her locket from where it nestled warmly and pulled it over her head. Opening it carefully she pulled out the little piece of paper and then laid both it and the locket on the table.

Stepping back a pace she gestured at the items on the table and looked up at Embram.

"Those are the items I have reason to believe, or suspect at least, might have magical properties. In general I believe that the locket is used for protection and especially against a specific sort of magic. I'd like to know as much as you can glean from them all though."

Lya gave Embram a smile despite her inner misgivings at the sight of him. If these people thought he was alright then she'd be guided by them. For now.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:31, Wed 10 Dec 2014.

The hand of the wizardly Embram stretched forth and hovered briefly over the locket. He then carefully reached down and picked up the small vial with the sharpened nails of a thumb and forefinger and held it before him to the light of the lantern. The ruby colored fluid glistened in its clear gem container. From within his robes, Embram produced a small globe about the size of an apple. Inside there seemed to be a bit of smoke that swirled lazily. He held this in one hand and peered into it as he held the vial of fluid behind it. The effect was that it magnified the image, and then the globe began to glow warmly.

"Ahhh..." murmured the wizard with a brief smile on his gray lips. "This is a powerful little cocktail, a mixture of a mother's tears and blood... It is an old magic of the sort which cannot easily be recreated, for it was created by the breaking of a heart." He set the vial down and held the halves of the golden locket before his crystal ball.

"Hmmm... yes, fairly simple runes of protection, but the work of this gold is exquisite, obviously that of a master, a rarity among humankind, but not of dwarven make or that of the elves..."

Next, Embram placed the thin paper into his hand and with a muttered word caused it to grow! Soon it was the size of a standard parchment, though still very thin and rather translucent. Upon it was written in a beautiful but faltering hand, a letter. "The spell I've cast upon this reverses the enchantment of shrinking it was under. Now you may read it at your leisure." With a wave of his hand, the vial inserted itself back between the pieces of the locket and they rotated into place around it. It floated gently back to the table.

Next, the wizened one turned his attention to the ring Lya had produced. He waved his hand over it as he had done with the locket, but quickly drew it away. His penetrating eyes glared deeply at Lya. "Where did you get this girl?" he hissed. He looked around at the others in the room. The woman and Waldric leaned in closer. "Have you worn this? Speak truly and now!" Embram demanded.

Startled a bit by the wizard's sudden demand Lya nearly jumped but controlled herself and, lifting an inquiring eyebrow, said, "No. During the battle for the Garrison between Hogship and Gilgamar I was fortunate and killed their leader. After the raiders had retreated I made my way to his corpse looking for my rightful spoils of war. I found some gold coins and this ring. I took the ring off his finger and placed it, along with the gold, in the pouch you just saw me pull it from. I thought it might prove informative or powerful or both but had the sense to realize it might not be wise to wear. It has been there, untouched by me - or anyone else to my knowledge, therefore, until just now when I pulled it out and set it on the table.

There were several raised eyebrows and even a gasp or two at Lya's tale. Everyone watched her nervously and not a few were the hands which strayed toward weapons. Finally, a low laugh eased the tension.

"You? That was you? Word of such deeds travels far in these times, even to an occupied city like this'n. 'Course the story has likely grown by the time it reached us, but still, your tale precedes ya..." The nameless leader of the ruffians said with a smile.

His easy manner seemed to relax the others, all except the wizard who kept his penetrating gaze drilling into Lya's countenance like a wood auger.

"I've heard the story myself of an unusually beautiful battle-maiden who slew the leader of an Oraxian strike force by shoving a spear down his throat... Is this truly you Lya?" This question was asked by one of the other men in the room, one of military bearing if Lya's guess was correct.

Lya could not help but feel the gaze of the wizard continue to bore into her. He suddenly seemed menacing, threatening and as she looked around the room in the dim light she could see the expressions of wonder and skepticism turning to jeers and snarls. The room grew darker and the walls seemed to be closing in, and suddenly Lya felt trapped!

"...Kill them! Kill them all, lest they slay you!" came a voice in her mind.

The wizard's eyes began to glow a bluish color and his pupils seemed to disappear...

"...Start with him!"

OOC: You'll need to make a saving throw here vs spells in order to resist the sudden urge to follow the instruction of the voice! d20 <= TN 14

20:04, Today: Lya rolled 9 using 1d20 with rolls of 9. Saving throw vs spell.

Embram raised a hand as if to release a spell, but held it as Lya struggled with the compulsion to attack her hosts. The voice was very compelling and it took an effort to resist. The illusion of menace faded away and she found herself in the dimly lit room once more. While many hands were gripping weapons, only one was partway drawn. They had backed away from her, not advanced as it had seemed a moment ago.

The wizard was still on his guard and his magic was at the ready. "What else do you possess, girl, with which you struggle. Show me quickly!"

Lya gasped as she felt the compulsion. Where had that come from? She'd laid out everything she'd taken since leaving...well not everything. She opened her pouch again and emptied out the gold coins she'd taken off the leader's body.

"Those gold coins are the ones I already had on me and, mixed in with them, are some I found on the body. Other than that the only other thing I've acquired on my travels is a sword. I would draw it but I fear the compulsion might be too much for me and I doubt you'd trust me in any event. It's in the sheath strapped to my back. There are two. The longer one is the one I found on the body of a dead nobleman. The short one is the one I used to kill the raider leader. It went in his mouth and out the back of his head. You can check both if you like. I know nothing of magic nor how it works. For all I know you may as well check all I have and even me."

Lya had a hard time getting that last bit out. She didn't like hands laid on her and she certainly didn't want people pawing at her or undressing her but...she didn't want to have that awful compulsion either. The sooner this was taken care of the better. This caused her to think some more.

"You may want to bind my hands first."

She held out her hands clasped together in front of her and her face went red with shame as she looked down at her feet.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Sat 13 Dec 2014.

With the totality of Lya's inventory layed out on the table from which the maps had been removed, Embram began his investigation. After hearing Lya's account of her vanquishing of the Oraxian Raider with her shortsword, he had a fairly good idea of where to begin. As his hand passed over the blade, it began to grow as predicted, a deep reddish color. He motioned to a couple of the men, one of which was Waldric, to bind Lya's hands, which without protest they were able to do with some cordage someone had in a backpack.

The voice in Lya's mind seemed now to be coming from before her now, obviously from her sword! "...Take me up! Strike them!" it commanded, shouting inside her skull. She felt her arms begin to struggle at her bonds. She felt the strong hands of Walderic and the other man holding her.

Then the blue-robed wizard began a low chant and his hands worked the air in intricate patterns which trailed bits of light. His voice rose in volume until the incantation was complete, and then he released his spell!

There was a tearing sound then as if a large tapestry were being torn apart and the images there upon it being ripped asunder. Lya felt a great pressure in her mind and searing pain in her arms and wrists as her muscles struggled against her will. Finally she felt them relax again... her will had won.

The blade itself began to vibrate and shake on the table and then it rose up on its own! The nameless ruffian leader and his sleeping companion, who was now very much awake, drew their own concealed blades. Then Lya's blade shot toward the wizard! It stuck steel as the ruffian leader stepped in front of Embram to defend him. Sparks flew, and then Lya's blade shattered, pieces falling to the stone floor!


Then, in the darkest part of the deepest shadows in the room, two red eyes began to glow. A feeling of hatred and malice swept over them all, and the entity, even in a weakened state, tried to dominate their minds. As providence, or luck, would have it though, the simmering and rageful demon found itself in the presence of those possessing strong wills of their own, strong enough to risk their lives resisting the likes of this red-eyed monster.

Embram shouted and thrust his hand in the direction of the demon. A white lance of energy shot across the room and struck just between the glowing red eyes. There was a howling of fury as a runed circle formed on the floor and the demon was sent into some nether realm of which only wizards and the godly dare to hold knowledge of.

Then there was silence. Embram seemed to diminish and sagged tiredly against the table. Before him, was the demon's ring, but it no longer bound the red-eyed entity to this realm. The group let out a collective sigh, and Walderic unbound Lya's hands.

"Be glad and thank your Gods that you came to be in the presence of one like Embram before this thing came to dominate you completely..." said Waldric.

"Yes," wheezed the wizard. "If you'd have placed upon your finger that ring, and had subsequently drawn that blade... you'd have become the soul-prisoner of that demon... You are a strong one girl, and lucky..."

Lya looked from one to the other of them, rubbing her wrists.

"I don't understand" she said. "How did that thing get into my sword? As far as I know it wasn't controlling me at all so how can you say that it would take me over entirely?"

Lya sighed and, shaking her head, began picking up the bits and pieces of her scant possessions. The she paused and looked back up.

"Thank you though. Thank you for getting rid of that thing." she nodded to Embram. "And thank you all for helping." she nodded at the rest of the group. "Do you think maybe you all could put your weapons away now? Maybe? I've had enough of being pulled one way, pushed another, doubted on the one side, judged on the other."

Looking down again she continued pulling her things together.

The men slid their weapons away and made a few muttered apologies to the half-elven lass. The wizard gestured away her expression of gratitude. "We do not fully understand how this is happening, but it appears that certain of the Oraxian officers are in fact demonic in nature. They possess not the power of true demons, but perhaps that's how they've been able to infect our part of the world... Upon death, they sometimes are able to enter into the weapon which delivered the killing stroke, then use it to influence its wielder whereupon the next time it is used, the demon-thing enters the body of the victim of the blow. Thus, the leadership of the Oraxian Army is not diminished, and in certain ways is even made stronger. For as the soldiers gain ability and skill from experience in battle, and their demonic officers can continue to infest new hosts, the Army's prowess grows. Waldric was right. You yourself might have become the host if you'd worn the officer's ring while wielding the possessed sword. Like I say, we are still learning..."

Someone brought the wizard a stool upon which he slumped. "Furthermore, and this is important for all of you to remember, magic as I possess and utilize can banish and bind only. The ability to truly destroy these demonic entities belongs to the clerical orders which rely directly on the delegated powers of their Gods... the problem lies in this: some religious and monastic orders are beginning to grudgingly report that their Godly Powers are beginning to wane!"

A hush fell over the room as he said this, for the implications were dire. Priests having difficulty communing with their Deities? "What connection does this have with the Army of Orax?" asked the woman.

"Again, we do not fully understand it, but the working theory, at least among the practitioners of the arcane arts such as myself, is that something is growing to interfere or even block the Gods from influencing this world! I am not a very religious man myself, but even I can see that They are needed now more than ever, but Their influence only weakens. So far, magic of the elemental variety, or that which is derived from the ether itself, does not seem to be affected... so far. Perhaps that is why items bearing enchantments are being sought and destroyed. Perhaps... they pose a certain threat because they cannot be limited like Deific power seems to be!"

Lya nodded pensively before finishing up with her packing and setting her possessions to rights.

"Alright. I would like to get myself settled in this city if such a thing is possible, now, what with the Oraxian army in control. I don't know my way about so if someone could take me to a good Inn I would be grateful. From there I should be able to look about for a place. That's important to me. There are other things I need to do as well. Shopping for the most part. How do I contact you all? And how will we proceed? I am willing to go after that cache for you in the next few days. Hopefully that will be soon enough."

Lya slung her pack over her shoulders and looked about the small group expectantly.

On the cot, Ervik remained in his stupor. The antidote to the poison seemed to have taken a much stronger bite on him than it had Lya. Embram turned his gaze toward the slumbering half-elf. "You should probably leave your friend here with us. We'll look after him, and we may need to cleanse him as we did you. The taint of these demonic soldiers is spreading, and rapidly. Keep this in mind, and keep aware... if you discover anything else that you think I should know about, please get the information to me quickly." Then Embram walked and swapped places with the rouge who'd been slumbering near Ervik.

Waldric took over again, confident and seemingly used to being in a position of leadership. Again that hint of noble bearing dawned on Lya as he did so. "These two can escort you through the city. Weapons and magical items are outlawed, so you'd better hide that sword of yours when you get the chance, or sell it, and carry something a little less obvious. I might suggest some different clothing which blends in more, but these two can help you with that. Like I said earlier, there is a safehouse where you may come if the need should arise. You're probably right, staying at an Inn would allow you a little more flexibility in your comings and goings, but you'll see that the city lacks the spirit of productivity and hard work it used to exhibit. You'll need to learn to fit in, and quickly."

"Should you make progress in the recovery of this cache, leave word at the safehouse and you'll receive further instructions... Embram will get your friend to his feet soon, some take the poison differently and I imagine the dosages were not very exact." He smiled and extended his hand. "Good luck to you Lya and stay strong."

"Stay strong..." the others murmured in unison.

The ruffian leader and his compatriot hoisted their weapons and gear and made ready to escort Lya from the secluded headquarters of this band of the resistance.

~~~~

The route they took was circuitous and dizzying, but it was now more difficult to blend in for they'd left during hours of darkness, what hour exactly Lya could not tell, but there was little to no traffic in the streets. Gray-clad Oraxian guards patrolled the streets, some with torches and some without. The ruffian leader and his man seemed very adept at avoiding them, and Lya's hereditary ability to see well in low light helped them all from time to time. Finally, they arrived across the street from a cluster of narrow buildings which had all been crammed into a space much too small for them.

"That be the safe house there," whispered the ruffian leader into Lya's ear. "...but approach it from the rear. Knock but once and mutter the word 'Cabbage' when you are asked. When the door opens, place a hand on your stomach as if you were hungry."

Then they took her to an Inn, several blocks away and in a noisier part of the city. It was the lowest part, the part which never slept, the part which seemed to exist in any large city despite whatever attempts were made to disrupt it. They were back near what was once called the Old City, and not far from a dock on one of the twin rivers which ran past the capital city.

The Inn was called the Sleepy Saint, but it was anything but sleepy. A patrol of Oraxian soldiers passed by, but they paid little head to the establishment besides a wontsome glance toward the sign which bore a bottle and a mug.

Lya leaned over to whisper in the leader's ear, "This is where I leave you. Thank you for the escort...and the rescue."

Lya watched the street, her days as a sneak thief standing her in good stead. When the patrols were gone and relative quiet had returned she pulled the cowl of her cloak over her head and hunched over. Nodding a last time to her escort she stepped from the shadows and made her way down the street before crossing and opening the door to the Inn.

Stepping inside she looked about from the shadow of her hood, looking for the proprietor or barkeep before heading in their direction.

"Been a real pleasure," the ruffian leader whispered back with a roguish smile. His partner gave the pretty half-elf a wink. "See ya around..." Then they drifted into the darkness of the city's alleys and were gone.

To enter the Sleepy Saint, Lya had to pass through a gauntlet of unofficial "doormen" who had stationed themselves out in front. They might have been lookouts, bouncers, spies, or sensitive types who disliked the crowded interior. They might have been on the same team, vying teams, or privateers in the game of gutters. Each of them, more than a handful, gave Lya looks ranging from a disinterested glance (hardly!) to a full-on disrobing with their eyes. One of them grinned toothily and rubbed a chin full of graying stubble.

Inside, the Inn was not full, but sort of comfortably filled with the hangers-on of a late evening and the regulars which only left their perches to relieve themselves or sleep it off. A bored looking musician plunked on an instrument that was foreign to Lya. There was a table of rowdies, a table of dark brooders in a shadowed corner, and a mishmash of other standard fare.

The barkeep was a woman of stout Zelander stock, not very tall and nearly just as wide, although were Lya to guess she might decide that the woman was mostly muscle.

"Whatcha need luv?" she asked in a not overly friendly tone, just enough...


~~~~

Let's have you give me an IQ or WIS check please, d20+mod, roll low...
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:25, Tue 16 Dec 2014.

18:32, Today: Lya rolled 4 using 1d20-1 with rolls of 5. INT check roll.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 01:34, Wed 17 Dec 2014.

A few sets of eyes watched Lya just as outside...

[Private to Lya: Things are just a little too normal. It feels like any Inn you've ever been in. While you can't tell exactly which of the patrons are spies or otherwise checking you out, you have that spidey-sense hunch that they are there, somewhere. As some have said, forewarned is forearmed... There is something else about the place that you've felt since waking up outside of the city and especially inside its walls, and that is the sense of disinterest in general about hygiene, manners, cleanliness, life... it's as if people are just too apathetic or lazy to care any more. Most of them that is... The little group of resistors did not act or feel this way to you.]

Lya looked at the woman for a moment and then said, "Sorry. I'm lost. Thought this was somewhere else. Sorry to trouble you.

With a small nod of her hooded head she left the Inn, walking past the men and into the shadows of the street heading in a different direction from where she'd come before, by the use of circuitous routes, coming to the safe house.

Going up to the door she knocked once and said in a low voice, "Cabbage" and waited for the door to open.