Your apprenticeship has come to an end; no longer are you initiates and you have been called upon by one of the Inquistor Lords: an old and powerful spellcaster rumoured to be a Lich, the Emperor apprently holds their phylactery to control them.

All of you have arrived one by one, and as you do a silent Apprentice leads you to a seperate room on the towers first floor and into a waiting room with a long table with multiple chairs around it.

The woman who walks in bears the black skin, white hair, slender, delicate features, and pointed ears of the Drow but there the resemblance ends. Her eyes are red, like most of her kind but glow, no matter how bright the light - a crimson portal to hell.

Her lips are parted in a slight smile and she's licking the fingers of her right hand. Barely visible are the sharpened tips of slightly elongated canines and lateral incisors.

She moves with a sensual, cat-like grace that appears natural and effortless and as the Apprentice leaves she strokes the side of his cheek before perching on one end of the table, lasily turning her back to the door as if she bares no concern for whomever might come through.

She's dressed in a rather revealing black dress - low cut, off the shoulder, and slit up the side to a height considered shocking in most societies. Around her neck is a choker made of barbed wire that constantly cuts into her flesh, drawing blood and then healing, over and over. The skin and muscle over her sternum have been flayed open are are held that way by hooks connected to wires which dig into the flesh at her shoulders and her waist, also held in place by hooks.

She perches and waits, assuming a preternatural stillness that's rather distressing, appearing not to breathe, blink, or fidget. None of the little tics that living beings do or make are present in this breathtakingly beautiful Dark Elf.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

The door opened to admit the silent apprentice once more only the figure being lead in was rather unusual. A heavy chain is grasped in the apprentices fist connecting to a simple slave collar locked around the throat of a monster. Dusky of scale, this seven foo lizardman stepped into the room in silence. The thick draconic head swiveled to regard the other occupant, nostrils flaring breathing in the strange elf scent before glaring at the silent apprentice.

Without a word the chain was removed and the apprentice retreated from the room leaving the lizardman to slink in further, his clawed feet clicking loudly against the floor as it carefully maneuvered around the chairs, eyeing them and the table they surround warily. Moving to a corner of the room opposite the motionless elven woman the creature squatted down and watched her intently, its yellow eyes blinked only so often as it kept alert of the fellow occupant.

Makaria Thriceburned, foot-soldier of the Telmarian Confederacy, knew the effect a grand entrance could have.  She also had a keen insight into when such a gesture would do more harm than good, and needed to be kept to herself.  She knew that as she was, she was already enough of a sight.  So she didn't unfurl her wings and soar, alighting upon the tower's roof like a streaming thunderbolt from the sky.  Instead she walked to the base of the tower, the black plates of her rune covered mail clinking together on each heavily booted step.  In the middle of her chest an orb filled with a strange arcane energy within its cloudy depths glowed and pulsed.  An exotic looking glaive, the signature weapon of her people, rested comfortably on one shoulder.  Its blade looked to be made not of metal, but of some transparent crystal, not so much crafted as grown.  On her shoulder, Druorum perched silently, a veil of invisibility obscuring the tiny Devil from sight.

The foreign looking Tiefling said nothing to the apprentice who met her, matching the servant's silence with a haughty quiet of her own.  She did pause momentarily at the entrance to the waiting room, her black eyes scanning the disparities between the room's two current occupants.   Her left hand rested reflexively upon the smooth metal surface of the almost silvered black battle mask that rested in its ceremonial place at her left hip.  There was no actual threat in the gesture, it seemed almost ceremonial in nature, and it was over almost as soon as it had begun.  She met the Vampire's glowing red eyes, and the Lizordfolk's reptilian yellow gaze, and then moved to be the first to actually take a seat.  The glaive rested on the  seat back behind her, just within reach.

The next to join the room was a young woman, barely over twenty by most humans' guess, with wild red hair and a long scar running from her brow down the left side of her face. Though her clothing and visible equipment seemed unremarkable, she carried herself with a kind of self-assurance rarely seen outside the nobility. Her pointed ears and bright green eyes marked her as either an elf or a halfbreed.

As she entered the meeting room, she took a careful look at of its current occupants. She eyed the drow's revealing clothing with obvious appreciation, the tiefling's wings with a hint of distaste, and the lizardfolk's slave collar with suspicious interest. Then, seemingly content that she's had a good look at each of them, she found a seat near the back of the room, with a clear view of as many points of entry as possible. Sitting down, she folded her hands behind her head and watched the room, a smirk playing about the corner of her mouth.

Another Initiate joined the room,this one a human with dark skin and closely cut black hair. Underneath his unassuming gear - a practical suit of studded leather armor and two light swords - his toned body showed lithe and strong. His heavily scarred face creased as he surveyed his potential seat mates. "What a shitshow." he muttered, as he sat, taking obvious caution to place himself closest to the elven woman and as far as possible from the others.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:52, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

Markus strides into the room outfitted in a shiny and oiled suit of armor. He resembles a human but he carries a strange and angelic ancestry. A large heavy mace hangs easily from his hip and a well made shield is carried on his back, across his chest there is a large emblem of a goat head which serves as a clasp for his black cloak. Piercing grey eyes glance around the room as he eyes the others gathered and responds to Orson, "A motley crew indeed."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:45, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

The young man who entered in a purple costume and black cape, had not been an apprentice here, but he had been recently initiated to the Inquisition. In the city he was well known as Goltinder the actor. He had organized numerous breath-taking shows in the theaters of the city. He always appeared to know what was going on in the minds of the citizens. He was carrying a backpack and an intricately crafted mahogany wand with elven runes on it. From his belt hung a light crossbow.
As he was lead by the apprentice, he addressed the silent boy: You're not the party genius of the family, are you?

When the half elf entered the room, he introduced himself to the others with a flourish: My friends, the flamboyant Goltinder is here to serve your cultured needs of art and entertainment. How outstandingly honorful it is for me to meet such a wonderful party of people. I daresay we'll be highly succesful in whatever mission our lich master has in mind for us.
After a bow to the vampiress, the tiefling and to the young woman, using his cape to make it a grand gesture, he seated himself at the table.

Orson shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the sheer abnormality of the other initiates in the room. After a quick mental calculation, he shifted in resignation and returned Goltinder's salutation with a lazy half wave.

"You're a Skald then?"

The Tiefling said to the exuberant half elf.

"One of your people's battle singers?"

The Telmarian Confederacy, of whom Makaria had spent most of the last three years pretending to be a member of, held bards in high esteem.  A battle singer would be placed with every squad of foot-soldiers, the magic of their powerful voices enhancing the soldier's war glaives and carrying them to victory.

The monstrous lizardman let his gaze drift over each new person that entered, looking them over slowly. Its gaze for the most part was unflattering as it sized up each meat that walked in studying how they moved and acted when presented with the group. Shifting on its clawed feet,  it adjusted its position keeping its wary gaze on the assemble individuals but lifted no voice in greetings.

The Drow laughs suddenly, the sound like the tinkling of bells but underlain with a cruel edge; her sharp teeth far more visible.

"All of us so dark and menacing. It's enough to give me the chills." She exaggerates being cold and shaking.

"So now we sit here and stare silently at each other and try and see who's the most big, most bad, most vicious predator in a roomful of them. Are the males going to pull out their members next?"

She hops down and glides to a seat. "Lilith Darkmoore."

Markus approaches the table after Lilith makes her move. "Appearances aside I think I know who the predator is here." He makes direct eye contact with the Drow taking a seat at the table across from here. Markus nods to the party in turn stopping to size up the Lizardfolk.

"Well, at least I have an idea. I am Markus, if the Lord of the Citadel chose us then we may have no recourse other than to," he grimaces, "get along."

"You say the sweetest things. I like you already. Come by my room later and you can talk dirty to me some more." Lilith says with a big smile and a wink.

Orson chuckles at this. "I'd tell ya to get a room, but it seems t'be that's already yer plan." He leans back, now more at ease than before. "I go by the name o' Blackwall. Orson to my friends."

In reply to Makaria Thriceburned (msg # 10):

Goltindr answered Makaria, the tiefling woman: No, I'm not a skald. But my strength is indeed in charm and suggestions and if battle is afoot, I have some destructive magic to add to the fray.

"That's my plan but I'm not sure about the Aasimar." The Vampire runs her tongue along her fangs.

"I can show you sights the likes of which you can't imagine and give you an eternity to explore the farthest reaches of pleasure and pain."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:30, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, I'll have to decline." Orson answered. "Besides, I have a feeling you wouldn't like my taste so much."

The redhead leaned back in her seat, apparently bracing her feet on one of the legs of the table. Her voice was deeper than the others expected and bore a distinct lower-class accent, most likely that of a street rat. "Mm. Gotta go with your assessment, Blackwell: this looks like a shitshow. Still, I've been with a few shitshows in my time, and they can be quite fun." She grinned. "M'name's Nyenna, no surname, no title, no 'friends call me' or nothin', and I'm here because nobody in my way kept livin' long enough to stop me."

Her gaze flicked again to Lilith. "Y'know, I'm always up for experimentin'... long as yer not just lookin' to suck my blood, we might be able to work somethin' out."

She seemed thoroughly unimpressed by Goltinder's routine; the general affect when he bowed to her was one of, if he tries to kiss my hand, I will stab his eye out.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

"Makaria Thriceburned."

The Tiefling interrupted the gunslinger's flirtations, still sitting stiff in her chair.

"Foot-soldier first class among the esteemed ranks of the Telmarian Confederacy."

The Telmarians were a war-like nation of Drow, though Tieflings were not unheard of within their ranks.  Their foot soldiers were colloquially known as "Gish" by those who bothered to study statecraft and history, and mixed arcane prowess with martial might in a deadly combination.

"Though for the moment my services are on loan to the Emperor of Brimstone, and through him, the Hellfire Inquisition."

She added, some of the military rigidity going out of her posture as she relaxed into her chair, thought the armor and blades she bore prevented her from settling fully.

A neutral gravelly voice echoed out from the corner, the lizardman had his thick head tilted to one side as he regarded the banter between the others, since it seemed it was time for introductions he threw his own 'name' out there, "Others call me Xul. You may call me Xul."

Before lapsing back into silence, his gaze flicking back and forth amongst the speakers and continued to listen to the discussions intently.

"I'll do so much more than simply 'suck your blood', Nyenna. I'll drain and feed you over and over whilst using my fangs and other things to bring you to such heights of pleasure you'll lose even the ability to scream."

Lilith gets up and the crimson glow of her eyes brightens, her fangs lengthen, and she sweeps aside her long, white hair to show her back, the dress cut low to the swell of her buttocks.

Her back is flayed and held open by hooks and wires, showing her spine from the bottom of her neck to the beginning of her waist.

"Gods. I'll stick with the lizard,if ya don't mind. Maybe he can tear me in half, but at least he doesn't want to fuck me to death."

Nyenna seems both fascinated and a bit unnerved by Lilith's flayed back, but keeps to her relaxed pose despite her eyebrows' attempt to go higher than her hairline. "And I thought the guy who wanted me to collar him and call him a dog was 'out there'... dayumn." She blinks, bringing her brows about halfway back to their original position, and carries on. "Suppose that must be an advantage of undeath, being able to do that without dyin' of shock."

"Still... I believe we got some business to deal with right now, so 'smuch as I'm in favor of mixin' business and pleasure, we should probably receive our mission before figurin' out the logistics of drainin' blood without losin' the ability to do interestin' stuff."

Orson's comment elicits a smirk; apparently Nyenna takes some perverse pleasure in the others' discomfort.

"As you wish. Eventually business will be concluded and we can return to this...discussion." Lilith purrs, raw hunger in her crimson gaze.

She returns to her seat and watches the group with predatory interest.

Goltinder followed the exchange between the women with interest.
He could see the vampiress' hunger for blood and was a bit worried that it would get out of hand.
He smiled about the remark of one called Orson, it seemed he was the most normal type around, with a good sense of humor.
He wondered why the master had allowed a vampire in their midst, it was obviously some kind of test for the others.
He said: "Hey Orson, let's not tear each other apart just yet, it would be sad to do it without a proper audience.

"Don't worry about that, wiz. I don't plan on tearing anybody apart unless it's absolutely necessary." Orson said, eyes still trained on Lilith. "Me, I love teamwork. Hell, they used to call me Orson Teamwork Blackwall where I came from."

The door opened once more to reveal Balasar the Black.

The Dragonborn walked into the room cloaked and hooded.

The dark hues of his well worked leather armor contorted to his powerfully athletic form and even hooded the cloth of cotton spun fabrics did little to conceal his draconic nature. He eyed the room from the doorway for a long second before he withdrew his hood and stood--looking over the occupants of the room and then, as if nothing else needed to be said he pronounced.

"I am Balasar, Balasar the Black." the voice of the Dragonborn was a low, menacing growl which surged forth like a thunderclap across a desolate valley.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:21, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

In reply to Balasar (msg # 28):

The silence in the room was broken as Orson turned to look at the last newcomer. "...Huh." He said, taking in Balasar's figure. "Another lizard. Gods be praised."

"More like a dragon, and with a title no less," Nyenna says, idly examining her fingernails. "And an excellent voice. Scarin' people with it must be some fun."

"Pfeh. Lizard, dragon, the only difference is that one has an attitude."

"A fine menu from which to sample with selections to satisfy every palate. I like this bunch already. I've never had dragon before. I wonder how sublime they might taste." Lilith says, staring at Orson as he stares at her.

"I will show you the difference little man, and when my lesson is complete--we will revisit this conversation." The Dragonborn said as he continued to stand, apparently not one for sitting.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

In reply to Balasar (msg # 33):

Orson leans back, a sharp, barking laugh escaping from him as he does so. "I've gotta say, you might be my favorite out of all of these fools. No bullshit, just plain fighting words."

"There're differences, if y'know what yer lookin' for," Nyenna lifts one hand and ticks off examples on her fingers: "There's the magic, 'vcourse; then there's the breath, and the warm blood, and the extra set of limbs; 'n' by all accounts I've heard, dragons walk like cats. Scales don't make a lizard any more'n hair on top of the head makes a human."

She smiles a little. "Though I do agree about the words. I do very much appreciate a good set of fightin' words... though not as much as a good fight."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:37, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

Suddenly dark raspy voice comes from the doorway "Indeed. Good, you are all present. I was wondering if I would have to go looking for some of you.", a robed gaunt and skeletal figure walks into the room, the empty eyesockets that look over each of you in turn possess a glow deep in them. The Lich seems to float above the ground as he makes his way to the head of the table "Your Master's speak well of each of you, I am pleased to see that it is not an exaggeration... yet."

To not be an ungracious host the Lich pulls out bowl and clicks his boney fingers once and the table is quickly filled with an assortment of food and drink that is acceptable to each of your unique tastes "I have little need for such things, but I still have my manners. Do enjoy and we'll get down to business."

For those magically inclined, he just finished casting Heroes Feast.

In front of Orson is a plate neatly divided into two halves. The right half is a pile of roasted vegetables, gleaming with oil and smelling of salt and garlic. On the left half of his plate his a sizable piece of meat, from an indeterminable origin, charred and cut in half to reveal a red center. Orson's eyes widen, and he reaches down to grab a carrot, his focus completely taken by the food.

Lilith picks up the crystal decanter and uncorks it, pouring the red liquid into a delicate glass which she holds as one would a fine wine. She gently inhales the aroma and her eyes half close.

"Elvish and a fine vintage," she takes a delicate sip and breathes deeply as a flush rises, visible even on her dark skin. "A fine vintage indeed."

She raises her glass in toast to the Lich.

The food before Xul was more the startings of a meal. Bloody, uncooked meat would occupy a large bowl which the lizardman promptly scooped off the table and once more crouched in his corner, casually grabbing a thick chunk of raw meat to his jaws and tearing into it. His yellow eyes glanced over the lich warily but he continued eating... or more accurately gorging on a raw bloody mess of flesh...

Markus takes a strong whiff of the food. There were few pleasures in life he allowed himself. Food was a necessity not a luxury. However, the man could not hide the angry growls generating from his stomach. Taking a bite of a lamb shank the Paladin closes his eyes and lets a brief moment of satisfaction cross his face.

Taking a long drink of ale the paladin clears his voice and addresses the Lich.

"Your gratuity is appreciated ancient one. You honor us with your selection."

Markus knew this powerful being could snuff out the life of every one in this room with little effort.

Makaria's eyes went wide with an almost giddy expression on her face when she surveyed the feast before her.  While her side of the table was not quiet as raw as Xul's, it could certainly give his a run for its money in terms of its strangeness.  In one bowl was a quivering jelly that glowed with a pale phosphorescence, beside which rested a small shot glass of clear liquid.  With almost reverent hands she poured the glass on top of the still quivering goo, which promptly began making a high pitched whining noise as smoke or steam began to escape from it.  She bent down at the table and inhaled these deeply, a look of supreme satisfaction on her face, before scooping the bowl up with one armored gauntlet and bringing it to her lips.  Beside that was a tray of brilliantly colored mushrooms and a small bowl of dipping sauce that to Lilith's keen nose smelled delightfully like congealed blood, though from a race she didn't recognize.  Beside that was a large bowl of some sort of broth, fluffy masses of some unidentifiable brown sponge providing obstacles for small silver fish still swimming about within it.  These two were brought one handed to the Tiefling's mouth, alternating between one and the other, and always with only her left hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Thu 14 Sept 2017.

"I see you've developed a taste for the rather refined food of the Drow, Makaria,  though I must admit to a lack of familiarity with the vintage into which your mushrooms are meant to be dipped."

Lilith leans back into her chair and takes another sip from her wine glass.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:36, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

Nyenna eyes the food suspiciously, leaning over the plate to sniff everything on her plate as if sure it must be poison. Once she's finished with her examination, she watches the others until she seems content that they aren't keeling over. Only then does she tentatively start on what looks like a generous portion of blood sausage.

The rest of her food reveals expensive tastes for an apparent uncouth street-rat: rare venison steak, pheasant drumsticks over mashed potatoes, honey-glazed carrots, heavily-seasoned fillets of white fish, creamed spinach, several slices of cured back bacon, herbed string beans, and a handful of candied figs. Beside the platter is a large mug of dark brown ale and a smaller plate containing a small loaf of white bread, half a wheel of soft cheese, and an assortment of berry tarts.

Once she's had a bite of the sausage and found it devoid of poison, Nyenna eats ravenously with little regard for manners or cutlery. She seems somewhat interested in Makaria's food as she does so, though she makes no move to ask for a bite.

Markus' brow furrows in confusion as he watches the Tiefling injest her "food". The paladin glances around at the various odd and ravenous displays of his colleagues. Dropping the shank back on his plate he takes another long drink before turning his attention back to the Lich.

Markus has officially lost his appetite.

"What's wrong, Markus? Food not to your liking? You're welcome to a sip of mine. It's warm and fresh. Or...could it be the company? Are the rarefied sensibilities of the Aasimar offended by his dinner companions?"

Lilith's smile is mocking as she looks at him. "Perhaps you'd like a taste direct from the source." She raises a finger and, as he watches, the nail extends into a very sharp claw which she draws across the top of one of her breasts.

"More to your liking?" She asks as blood wells up from the wound.

In reply to Lilith Darkmoore (msg # 45):

Seeing the blood well upon her breast did indeed make the paladin's heart skip. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth as flashes of his "conditioning" overwhelmed his senses. The inquisition took special interest in the Aasimar and their tools dulled over the decades of their teachings.

His face formed into a smile and his eyes stared through the table before him . "Be careful what you ask for Lilith. Asmodeus has shown me true pain, and true ecstasy." His hand idly clutches a knife near his plate, unconsciously digging it into the surface. "Being with me may very well be your last night." His words are deliberate and tainted with a seductive tone.

"But we are not here to fuck, and fuck my sensibilities. We are here for one purpose and one purpose alone. To root out those that oppose the Citadel and our dark lord. Save your poisoned tongue and used cunt for fool desperate enough to fuck a corpse." The paladin stares emptily at the drow, his smile recedes before he finishes his cup.

The Vampire's eyes flash briefly before a slow smile forms on her face and she licks the claw she used to open her flesh.

"Praise to Lord Asmodeus as is his due but I have traveled to lands undreamt of in search of pleasures both grotesque and sublime. They sights I have been shown..."

She licks her tongue against her very sharp teeth and smiles as blood is drawn. "Is that a challenge, Markus? Do you think you could survive the time I would spend knowing your flesh? Feel the warmth of mine own and tell me I'm a corpse then. Lie with me one night and let us see who makes the other scream. Aasimar."

She whispers the last and the stress on the word 'Aasimar' is quite apparent.

"It tastes like home."

She responded to the Vampiress, and there was a longing to her voice that had not been there before.  She gestured towards the bowl of congealed crimson.

"Rothé."

Was all she added, the strange sounding word very natural on her tongue.

When the Aasimar lost his appetite, she paid him no heed.  The Angelspawn probably ate cheese, a truly revolting thought.  Ah, no, there was the vile stuff.  Right next to the gunslinger, how demeaning.  She suppressed a shudder, and continued listening in on her new found companions as they began to verbally spar.  It wasn't an exercise she was interested in joining in, and she could learn just as much listening in on the outside as she could a participant.  So she sat, and watched the predator test the Aasimar's mettle.  QUickly, the conversation spilled secrets.  Not particularly valuable ones, considering how freely they were given, but secrets none the less.  A disciple of Asmodeus then, that certainly made him more interesting.  Few of his blood deviated from their baser natures, but Asmodeus was the great tempter after all.  It certainly explained why the Vampire's charms were so ineffectual.  Who could be tempted by another after they'd tasted the Archdevil's touch?

A stupid question, she knew.  Indulging in temptation just led to desire for new temptation, that was the whole point.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:42, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

Nyenna gulps down a mouthful of ale and wipes her mouth on her sleeve. "M'pologies for the poor manners; m'not the refined type 'n' it's not often I get to eat this well." She nods to the lich, speaking loudly enough to cut across the others' verbal sparring. "Much appreciated, Inquisitor."

Goltinder was served a dinner with boeuf bourguignon (beef casserole cooked in red wine), fried potatoes, salad and Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte (black currant tart including chocolate and whipped cream).
However, he was looking at the drink of the vampiress and as she said it was elven vintage,
he asked the master: "Is this the necromantic version of heroes feast where ingredients of living beings are taken from random subjects in the vicinity? I mean, is an elf or half elf nearby suddenly missing a pint of blood? I've never studied the spell in detail, but as I understand it, it doesn't discriminate between friend and foe when the ingredients are gathered, does it?"

Goltinder was feeling a bit nauseated as he pondered the possibility that it was actually his own blood in the vampiress' glass.

"Ah yes, the beasts of burden. Their flesh is tender and tasty if one's appetites are given to such things. I remember partaking of them before. Shame to waste your time on such bland fare when there are other delicacies one could indulge in. Those mushrooms go well with a bowl of tender, young elf."

She takes a drink from her glass and refills it from the decanter. "Like this one was."

Orson looks from Markus to Lilith and back in a very well concealed state of horror. It is only now beginning to dawn on him the type of people he will soon be working with.

Lilith's eyes open and her nostrils flare though she doesn't look in any particular direction. "I smell fear...it gives the blood a powerful top note when one drinks from those afraid."

She swirls the liquid in her glass. "This one was afraid."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

A hint of distaste colors Nyenna's features, though only for a few seconds.

"Most elves are these days," she growls, then stops her own mouth with a sizable chunk of venison.

Balasar made a symbolic display of appreciation to his host's hospitality.

The Dragonborn ingested a single peice of spicy and savory fish while he nodded to the Lich--he moistened his palate with the wine fine which had appeared and nodded again in respect to the vintage his cold eyes moved like rolling pitch over the assembled strange characters before he finally disengaged from the "appetites" of his fellows.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:50, Fri 15 Sept 2017.

The Lich's raspy laugh at Goltinder's question is unsettling to say the least "Oh if that was the case then I would advise you to check for missing limbs, seeing the appitite of our Lizard here." he gestures towards Xul "No this is just a regular use of the spell."

"Now as much as the conversation intrests me, I suppose I should inform you of why I asked for you." he waves his hand and a magical map of the city comes into view in the centre of the table, it zooms into the docks district "Recently there have been rumours of a group of who call themselves The Cult of the Dark Sun, (Anyone who wishes to can make a Relgion Check)from the information I have obtained from my apprentices and other Inquisitors, I have found that they operate out of the docks.
However they seem to have magical protection against the Divinatuon School and as such I need feet on the ground to find them." his tone quickly changes "Of course completion of this task will bring more than just reknown for you, but I will also owe you a reward of some fashion and as such I will endeavour to repay that."

So as per the spell, all of you are Immune to Poison and Fear, Gain Advantage on Wisdom Saves and your Max Hit Points are increased by 12 (2d10) for 24 hours.

Makaria had indulged, but not gorged, at least marginally aware of the legendary properties of the feast that had been set before them.  When the lich had stopped she spoke up.

"Find, capture, or destroy?"

It paid to be clear, very literally in this case.

Lilith leans back in her seat, the glow of her eyes increasing and her fangs lengthening, her gums throbbing as the sensation rolled through her, almost sexual, at the thought of blood, hot and fresh, directly from the artery.

"I call first crack at any extras we have no need of." She says, voice husky.

A wicked smile appears on the gaunt face of the Lich "Find, destroy and if possible recover a corpse for me. I have ways of interrogating the dead."

Orson grins, Touching the hilt of the Jian at his belt. "You're speaking my language, Bones. Death for money is a cause I'll always get behind."

"Do you know how deep this cult's roots stretch beneath the citadel?" Markus addresses the Lich.

Despite the unsettling raspy voice of the the Lich, Goltinder breathes a sigh of relief when he hears that it's the normal version of Heroes Feast. So, he doesn't need to worry!
He finishes his delicious meal and then says:

"I think we can find out a lot about the cult with a subtle approach. My plan is simple: I'll visit one of the taverns or pubs in the neighborhood of the docks and I'll dazzle the people with my performance. That will loosen some tongues, and if they're reluctant to speak, I can make them against their will. So, at the very least, we should have a small clue after that. I think it will take me 2 hours to complete this plan. In the meanwhile, some of you could perhaps kidnap a sailor or two and, well, do something."

"Don't get too carried away with the recon," Nyenna says, spreading cheese on a piece of bread with no regard for Makaria's disgusted look. "I've met 'em before. They're Pelorites, radical ones, the kind that're less about the white-flag fluff 'n' healin' and more about fire 'n' daylight 'n' blowin' up 'evildoers.' Tried recruitin' me once, but I don't run with cults, so I blew off a couple heads and took a barrel of black powder. Oh, yeah, they've got that. Love the stuff, think it's their god's wrath or somethin' daft like that. Makes them a player in the black market."

On hearing this, Orson slumps, and his grin turns to a contemplative look. He says"Pelor, eh? I hate 'em already. when can we start?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:20, Sat 16 Sept 2017.

Goltinder says: "well, if everyone agrees to my plan, then I'll be leaving now."

Xul didn't add much to the discussion merely looking up when the lich made mention of his name, even then he was still gorging on the food,, yet he was listening. Regardless of who or what this cult was he understood the intents of the mission it was just the discussed scouting was unsuitable for his nature, there'd be time enough when they need bones broken and flesh rended that he'd contribute. So for now he merely ate and listened.

"I'm happy to play with one of the sailors or anyone who can give us answers." Lilith says with a slow and very wicked smile.

"I can be very persuasive."

Goltinder finds a tavern or pub where the boss is willing to let him perform one of his dazzling shows.
Dressed in his purple entertainer's costume and wearing facial make up to stress his flamboyant personality,
Goltinder provides a show of comedy, songs and excitement. The latter is provided when he starts to spit fire, using oil and a flaming torch!
The show is not really spectacular but it's certainly entertaining.
After one hour of performing, Goltinder withdraws from the stage and asks the bartender for a couple of drinks.

OOC: 19:46, Today: Goltinder rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  Performance roll in tavern or pub near the docks.

The secrets of a city can be often found within the its soul rather than its beating heart. Knowning this, Balasar joined Goltinder and attempted to glean what he could from the shadows with thrived in the absence of Pelor's light.

Using a combination of Thieves cant, alchol and games of chance Balasar attempts to also discern more information about The Cult of the Dark Sun.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:08, Sat 16 Sept 2017.

Makaria had said nothing to het companions when they had been making their plans, preferring to keep some secrets to herself.   When they agreed to spend several hours digging up information, she found a secluded spot from which she could work.  Whispering softly to Druorum, she told the tiny imp what to do.  While  Goltinder and Balasar plied their trade, she sent the Devil to flit invisibly about the docks of the city, searching for any sign or whisper of the cult.

She herself spent the time sharpening the blades of her knives, war axe, and glaive, preparing herself for the fight to come.

Orson decided to hear straight for the docks district, intending to get a lay of the land while keeping a low profile. He also watches for a target, ready to chase someone down if need be.


(OOC: I'd like to specify that he is focusing on not being seen. What Orson is concerned about is escape routes, entrances, chokepoints, strategic layouts.)
This message was last edited by the player at 16:29, Sun 17 Sept 2017.

Nyenna watches the others leave with obvious irritation. "Typical. Not even stickin' around or askin' any questions, just goin' off on their own with no regard fer teamwork." She tilts her head towards Lilith. "Hey, Blood'n'Sex, wanna scope out a base? Lizardman 'n' Angelface can come along too, 'long as they don't blow cover."

"'Blood and sex?' You fancy me enough to give an endearment already? I'm flattered. If we didn't have work to do I'd much rather go to one of our rooms and engage in blood and sex but, duty calls." The Vampire gives an exaggerated sigh.

"Allow me a few moments to attire myself accordingly and I'll join you in...scoping out a base."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:56, Sun 17 Sept 2017.

"We should also find a hospitable location to regroup and collect our strategies. Perhaps we follow the fool in purple."

I'll follow goltinder/party. Trying to keep a low profile.

Xul rose as he was called upon, his gait was relaxed and easy as he made his 2ay after the small female meat. Glancing aside at the vampriss his head cocked slightly, "What is 'cover'?"

"Cover means disguise or concealment. Our young half-elf is concerned we'll be seen as we watch their hideout. We'll go, watch the place for guards and then, when the time is right we'll strike and you and I will indulge in fresh blood and meat."

The Vampire runs her tongue across her teeth again and the crimson glow from her eyes intensifies.

"Soon we shall feast, my scaly friend."

"Indeed, we shall serve as the second line. Let the socialites find the location of this cult. Then we can kick in the teeth of those that oppose the dark lord."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:53, Sun 17 Sept 2017.

So that's what a disgruntled lizardfolk face looks like. It was rather plain to see that Xul wasn't entirely behind this whole concealment business but ultimately he supposed some of these meat knew what they were up to and tracking in the city was much more their forte than his own. Still he nodded his head at Liliths final words, "A worthy feast if the other meats talk is sound. Much more satisfying killing prey that fights back instead of whimpers in puddles of their own fear."

"I like you already, Xul. I'm going to slip into something more appropriate for the work ahead. Care to join me, Markus? You could slip into something more comfortable as well." The Vampire's grin widens.

After his successful performance at the tavern, Goltinder joins the people who enjoyed his show and listens to their talk.
The first fifteen minutes, he'll just listen if anything comes up which might be connected with the Pelorites' cult.
He looks for strong and athletic people, who seem to have trained hard for some reason, because he suspects that the Pelorites will use physical force. (Of course, he doesn't mention these suspicions, he doesn't mention the cult nor the Pelorites.)

If he hears nothing of interest so far, he'll interrupt conversations and change the subject to violent confrontations at or near the docks. He'll suggest that he's heard about people getting in fights at or near the docks. And that one needs to be able to withstand the violence of others, by doing physical training or by having powerful friends.

Goltinder's performance makes it easier to gain information from the patrons as they seem to be more inebriated and in a better mood, as such he is able to gleam some tales of Doomsayers in the northern parts of the docks preaching that the end is nigh, that followers of Asmodeus will be the first to feel the wrath of the righteous and that only those that they are trying to recruit people to join for the coming end times. He also hears tell of people going missing near the waterfront with tales of strange creatures walking around during the night hours taking them away into the very water itself.

Balasar takes some time to do some gambling and learns that several of them have been approched by strange robed figures, attempting to recruit them for some Order or another usaly around the northern part of the docks.

Orson stalks around the district itself, during which he makes note of the fact off who is on the street, aside from the beggars and street urchins there are a few others wandering around who may be part of the cult you are after. Following them would not prove a challenge as they don't seem to be paying attention to anyone following them.

Goltinder tries to find Balasar in the tavern and shares the new information with him in a quiet voice.
"What shall we do now?" he asks Balasar.

In reply to Lilith Darkmoore (msg # 79):

Markus sneers at the drow before turning his attention to the task at hand. After Goltinder and the "scouts" depart Markus turns his attention to his scaly friend, Xul. "Patience shall be rewarded with blood. Perhaps we should find a tavern to wait for news."

Markus will head toward the docks aiming to seek out other members of the inquisition.

"At the very least, we should move to the Northern docks."

The Tiefling added, having thrown a cloak over her armor and wings to make her appearance at least slightly less distinctive.  She leaned in close, whispering.

"The Cultists will be having a meeting tonight, deciding the time and place of their next attack.  If we can figure out where they are hiding, this would be the ideal time to strike."

She made no mention of where she had gotten this information, having spent most of the past few hours sitting quietly with the group.  She had stepped away briefly once or twice, but always for no longer than a minute or two, and never in the company of anyone else.

Xul gave a very disjointed shrug of his large scaled shoulders. Between the small female meat and the armored meat this 'cover' business he felt was best left to their judgement. Glancing to the blood drinking meat he would follow after the other two hoping the others who had left had already found their prey so they would spend as little time doing this silly 'cover' thing and could get straight to the hunt...

Goltinder says to Balasar: "I think we should have a talk with the Dock master. He can tell us a lot about the ships at anchor and about the warehouses. I suspect that those we seek, are hiding either in a ship or in an empty warehouse. So with our information so far and the info from the Dock master, we should be able to figure it out. Will you join me to the Dock master?"

Makaria nodded, rose, and shouldered her glaive.  Like her wings, she had wrapped a cloth around the thing to hide it somewhat from the other patron's gaze.  It was still clearly a weapon, but that wouldn't draw too many stares in such a place, and far less than if she had it unfurled.

Lilith vanished for a short time before returning in black scale armour, cut away to reveal the flayed section of her chest and, one might assume, her back. She still has on the barbed wire collar and wears a flowing black cloak with a deep hood. Twin swords handles peek out from the cloak and the crimson glow of her eyes gives her features an eerie cast.

Even in armour she moves in that silent, sinuous motion.

"Maybe next time you can help me put on my armour, Markus. Or later you can help me take it off." She says, the glow from her eyes reflecting off of her teeth making them look coated in blood.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:26, Wed 20 Sept 2017.

"I've buried enough dead to know what a corpse looks like when it's been in the dark too long. However it is comforting to see you wearing something more, appropriate." The Paladin smiles and ushers the woman forward in a mocking manner. "Ladies first."

"I'm no corpse, dear Markus. No corpse can bring you the pleasure I can bring you. If you ever gather your courage seek my chambers and I'll show you."

She smiles at Nyenna. "He says the sweetest things. Maybe you could join us. I'm up for a threesome. How about it, Markus - are you...up for a threesome?"

Nyenna raises an eyebrow. "I, for one, am up for a lot of things. For now, though, I'm up for stakin' out the docks and trackin' down a certain someone I know for recent intel."

"I'm up for a fresh meal on the hoof and gathering information in a more pleasing manner. Beating it out of someone is crude but bleeding them as you ride them is fun. I like mixing business with pleasure."

"Much as I'd like to see that, I gotta ask you to let me handle this one," Nyenna says, making for the door. "My 'friend' has enough reasons to be scared of me; she'll tell me whatever I want to know, long as she knows it herself."


Feature of the Criminal background: I have a contact.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:51, Fri 22 Sept 2017.

Lilith sighs. "Fine. You talk to your contact and get information out of him through boring and inefficient conversation and I'll pick my own target to...talk with. Markus will likely stand somewhere and glower in a most boring and uninspired manner. He really needs to get laid. He's so tense I hear his muscles creak when he clenches his teeth." She says in a stage whisper, leaning over towards Nyenna, 'conspiratorially.'

"Hear that? He's doing it now."

Orson,having yet to see his acquaintances join him, is going to try and stalk the cultists he's seen. He's again prioritizing staying hidden, as he knows that raising an alarm will be counterproductive.

Nyenna leads Markus, Lilith and Xul () towards the docks but upon arrival you go down several back alleys before she finally stops and bangs on a door.

After a few seconds a voice cries out "Give me a minute!" and after a few more seconds the door flys open revealing a female fire Genasi, she glares  angrily at you before her eyes go wide at Nyenna's presence "Nyenna?" she says with both shock and a little fear.

She glances around at the rest if you before clearing her throat "Well... I guess you all should come inside then."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:07, Fri 22 Sept 2017.

Nyenna's grin can only be described as wolfish. "Cinders! Good to see yer still in business. Sexy, Shiny, this is my friend; her name's Pyra but I call her Cinders. Lizardman, she's not food; hell, she'd probably give ya heartburn. C'mon in!"

Markus clutches around the handle of his mace as Nyenna leads them down the alley. He did not trust many people and his distrust for females stemmed from a betrayal deep in his past. But they had a mission. One thing he had learned to trust was the wisdom of Asmodeus. He nods to Pyra after Nyenna introduces them.

Lilith uncoils off the wall she was leaning against and moves in the sensual, graceful manner that can be very disturbing or erotic, depending on your frame of mind. She smiles at Cinders, her fangs clearly visible but not down as if in attack or feeding mode.

"Fire, like passion. I like. Is your blood as hot as I've heard?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:55, Fri 22 Sept 2017.

"All meat is food, but will not eat her. Yet." Xul remarked as he carefully maneuver through the door doing his best to not knock things over or smash anything with his tail, for the most part he'd take up a guard position by the door and keep a look out while the small meat all talked to each other. He was right, this cover thing was silly, even claiming meat was not food. Unenlightened barbarians all....

After speaking to Balasar, Goltinder asks the bartender where he would look for the dock master at this time of day.

He then exits the tavern and mounts his horse and, if it is not at the north side of the docks, he rides to the place where he expects the dock master to hang out.

Pyra leads you all into a common room and from a cabinent on the wall and pulls out four seperate glasses and a full bottle of some sort of alcohol. She hands the glasses out to each of you before taking the bottle and she just drinks straight from the bottle "I'm going to need more than one of these." she slips into a chair and sighs "Soooooo Nyenna, I take it this is business visit as I'm sure you wouldn't bring your new gang for a 'personal' issuse." she takes another swig from the bottle "What can Pyra get for you today? Parts, powder, specialist ammo? You want it I can get it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:14, Sat 23 Sept 2017.

"Actually..." Nyenna takes a sip of the alcohol, clicks her tongue in approval, and leans against the nearest wall. "I've got a bone to pick with those Pelorites, besides 'em competin' with ya for the powder trade. So, this is an information call. Sunny edgelords still hunkered down in the same place?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:58, Sat 23 Sept 2017.

Lilith leans against the wall and watches Cinder as she hands out the glasses before sitting down. She takes a very small sip, more a dipping of the tongue into the glass,  before shuddering and setting it aside and continuing to watch the conversation.

Pyra raises an eyebrow "Well that's not what I was expecting to hear but you know what? Fuck 'em, they've been causeing me more than enough trouble lately and I would gladly pay to finally be rid of shitbags." she just chugs the rest of the bottle before continueing "Yeah they're still in that ramshackle warehouse they call a temple, though if the rumours are true then they got somthing big planned."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goltinder recives the address for the Dockmaster, fortunetly it is not too far from your current position, upon reaching the large building you see the lights on in the building.

Inside you find a man behind a desk looking over a selection of papers, probally a shipping manifests for tomorrow. He looks up at you and says "I'm a little busy at the moment, if you have an item to collect then I suggest you come back tomorrow."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:55, Sat 23 Sept 2017.

Makaria was waiting in the alley when the rest of the party emerged, wrapped in her cloak, though of how she had tracked them there she said nothing.

In reply to Overlord (msg # 81):


OOC: 21:32, Today: Balasar rolled 5 using 1d20+2.  Card Game Banter.
21:32, Today: Balasar rolled 8 using 1d20+2.  Cards game banter.

In reply to Overlord (msg # 105):

Goltinder advanced to the desk and said in a quiet voice: "This is a matter of the Inquisition. I need your full attention."
Goltinder looks in the dock master's eyes. If he sees resistance there and that the dock master is about to call the alarm, he'll cast charm person. But if he sees fear in the man's eyes or willingness to help, he'll continue in the same soft voice:
"I need information about the ships which are docked here. Especially at the northern end of the docks. Also, I need to know what you can tell me about the warehouses which are the situated at the northern side of the docks. Who owns them? What is stored there? Are they used regularly?"

"Do we have what we came here for? We know where they are so now let's go play. I'm thirsty and whilst I thank you for the hospitality, this isn't my preferred vintage."

Lilith smiles and her fangs drop ever so slightly.

Nyenna looks vaguely amused with the others' discomfort, but only for a second. Standing up, she places her glass on the counter a bit too roughly for safety. "I think we're good, though Cinders, I might be comin' back for ammo after we're done with this." Smirking, she pats one of the pouches on her belt. "The Dark Sun are gonna do some talkin' with my boys."

"I may come back and take a sip or two, see if you're as hot-blooded as they say, Cinders.

"Want to play later? It's an experience you'll never forget. You may even convince tall, broody, and good looking over there." She indicated Marcus, pulling upon her cloak to show her flayed sternum.

"Pleasure and pain such as you have never conceived of."

This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Wed 27 Sept 2017.

The lizardman gave a toothy grin glancing from one to the other, shifting towards the door he gave a low grunt, "Good, enough cover. Lets go kill some meat." He would wait for the others but it was most obvious Xul was more than eager to find this warehouse and get their actual mission under way.

Makaria greeted the rest of the party as they exited the building.

"I trust we have a lead?"

'We found out where there's a veritable banquet of villains to feast upon. What say we meet up with the others and sate our appetites, hmm?"

The hellish crimson glow of Lilith's eyes flares as she bares her fangs in a wicked smile.

Markus nods in approval. "We should find the purple fool and see if they have made any progress."

"Such a lovely night for a stroll. Care to hold my hand, Markus? It would be so romantic, the two of us."

Lilith holds up her hand and everyone present sees fishhooks driven underneath her fingernails so the hooks are curving in towards her palm.

"I promise I won't bite. Much."

Xul growled softly under his breath glancing aside at Lilith and Markus. "Mate later. We have a hunt to complete. The presentation of ones enemies heads make good betrothal gifts." Glancing around the streets he realized he had no clue where this ware house was. Glancing back to Nyenna he tilted his head slightly, "Which way?"

"I like how you think, Xul. Will you bring me a head as a betrothal gift, Markus. That would be the sweetest betrothal gift ever."

She bats her eyelids at Markus, attempting to look innocent.

Goltinder needs to convince the dock master that he's really from the Inquisition.
He says with conviction: "Asmodeus rules. Resistance is futile. Obey the liches and their servants, the initiated. Now answer me!"

OOC: 10:43, Today: Goltinder rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Persuasion to convince the dock master that Goltinder is from Inquisition.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:05, Wed 27 Sept 2017.

In reply to Lilith Darkmoore (msg # 118):

~The site of the walking carnage that was Lilith brought memories of the nurses that aided in Markus' transformation. Those dark beings used similar hooks to flay his skin from muscle for long and endless days deep within the Citadel's dungeons.

The smell of flesh burning suddenly filled the blackguard's senses and see saw red. The image of Lilith's head on a rusty platter formed in his mind and her shit-eating grin was contorted and maimed into terrified visage before an endless sea of flame.~

Clutching his mace tightly Markus clenches his jaw and rotates his head and neck stiffly in his armor, his face tight like his mailed gauntlet. Raising his left hand he points to Lilith trembling in rage. "All our heads our forfeit if we fail this mission. Asmodeus does not tolerate the weak in his flock and you can save your fucking for when the sun worshiping fools repent for their blasphemy." Before he pivots away and heads away from the alley.

"Where is the purple fool?" He mutters to himself peering out toward the street.

Nyenna steps forward, raising her hands. "Hey, hey, we're all coworkers here! Let's cut the shit and find some Pelorites to royally fuck over in wh'tever way y'choose to interpret those words! C'mon, I'll bring ya to their hideout and we'll scope it out, maybe see if the others've gotten anywhere."

The Dockmaster gives Goltinder a frightend look "Great now this." he mutters rubbing his forhead and looking away for a moment and rummaging through a set of documents "The Northen side of the docks is for the Nobles personally deliveries and shipments." he produces a parchment with a list of noble houses "This is the list of Nobles that have had a delivery within the last month my Lord, however I must also inform you that House Arllen manages that area of business and they tale a percentage of any thing stored in thouse warehouses."

As you look over the listing you find that the majority of them are labled Undisclosed Goods and all have the same address which appears to belong to House Arllen itself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:35, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

Lilith looks over at Nyenna and raises a brow, "Was it something I said? I think I made my beloved mad. I'll eat extra cultists to make him happy."

Goltinder still speaks in a soft voice, as he says to the dock master:
"-I need more information. What can you tell me about the Hous Arllen? Which noble family has had the most deliveries in the past week? What can you tell me about that noble house with the most deliveries?"

OOC: I want to check what Goltinder himself knows about the noble houses mentioned on the list and about House Arllen-
13:32, Today: Goltinder rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  Intelligence (history) about House Arllen.
Overlord, please make appropriate checks for his knowledge about other noble houses.

"It's less what you've said, and more than you keep repeating it ad nauseam."

Makaria responded to the Vampiress.

"We hear you, your hungers are endless and ever varied, a true creature of darkness and sin.  Right now though, we've a job to do.  I'm sure you will have every opportunity to indulge in every vice once it is complete, and you've advertised loud and clear that you wish many to join you.  However, in the present it is serving only as a distraction from our goal."

The Tiefling smiled, making it slightly more difficult to tell is said distraction was one she ultimately enjoyed, or was merely annoyed by.

"We've vermin to exterminate."

She thumped the butt end of her glaive down on the pavement, emphasizing her point.

"For my part, I am very much looking forward to seeing how much of this act you can back up."

Her smile broadened, more playful than malicious.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

Lilith's eyes flashed and her fangs extended to their full length as the mischievous, slightly mocking look she had worn since meeting them vanished and the predator beneath was truly revealed.

When she spoke her voice was a hissing growl. "Let us be about the night's work so I can demonstrate how much of my 'act I can back up.'

"Be careful what you ask for-Maria Thriceburned-you just might get it."

The Vampiress moved off, her motions still that sinuous glide but married now to the determined stalk of a hunter on the prowl.

"That's better."

Makaria's voice was a purr, and with a practiced motion she unfurled the blade of her glaive and set off after the stalking Vampiress.  Her own feet were heavy on the cobblestones, armored boots and purplish black mail clanking as she marched.

Content that the others are as focused on their task as they can be, Nyenna walks after Lilith and Makaria and situates herself at the front of the group.

OOC: Assuming no significant developments on the way, Nyenna will lead the others to the docks and point out the Dark Sun base.

The Dockmaster coughs nervously "All I can tell you sir that house Arllen has been moving goods around alot the last few weeks and as much as I would live to awnser your questions Sir I'm not paid enough to cross Lord Mathias if he has his guards protecting the warehouses he owns.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:52, Sat 30 Sept 2017.