Gania was too focused on putting on her retrieved heirloom to notice the toll of magic. Bracelet in place, she clasped Uri on the shoulder and smiled as wide as she could "Thank you!" she boomed "I am in your debt. If it means finding your foe, I'll gladly help."

Ritual Group

As Sierpinski did his best to determine when his and Gania's interactions with the demon were ordered within their respective timelines, it also became apparent that there was a shift in the city's ambiance. The crowds that had been eagerly watching the newcomers perform their magic were now dispersing. And not just because the ritual was over. Adults would point out to their children a space in the distant sky, then usher them off to go elsewhere. Shops and homes nearby were closing their doors and windows, making sure everything was locked tight. It actually seemed as if people were barricading themselves inside, but in a way that made it obvious this was something done often. There were even town guards here and there who were helping people prepare their dwellings.

When the adventurers looked in the direction the adults would point out to the children, all they could see was more of the bright daytime sky. At least at first. But then they took note that in the distance the daytime sky seemed to stop abruptly and transition immediately to nighttime.

With night apparently fast approaching, soon the only people still in the streets were people heading toward the mayor's manor. Mostly orcs, but a couple were avens, and one was a  halfling. All of them were dressed in fine leathers with ornate patterning that complimented their flawless figures and long flowing hair. Everyone was dressed their best for dining with the mayor. As they passed the adventurers, they would nod kindly, and sometimes even express their eagerness to hear the adventurers' stories at dinner. One thing they also all had in common was that none of them were unarmed. Everyone carried a weapon of some sort, sometimes a shield too, and they all looked as if they knew how to use them.

But why they would need them at a dinner with the mayor was anyone's guess.

What do you do?

---

The Manor Group

Baxtruss, the teen orc, lit up at Uri's suggestion. At least at first. "That could be great! I've never played with someone who had a-" then his eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Nice try. That's exactly what someone trying to steal my show would suggest. Except once we start playing, you take over the show and I'm left playing backup. No way, not happening." The young man frowned and shook his head, but looked pleased with himself that he had seen through Uri's alleged trickery. "Yeah, nice try."

After relaxing, changing clothes, and having their baths, the adventurers at the manor also noticed the guests beginning to arrive. Their elegant leathers, their styled hair, and their menacing weapons all stood out in equal measure. At first they mingled outside, chatting. But they began filing inside as the servants started closing up all the doors and windows to the manor. It seemed the place would be going into lockdown for the banquet.

What do you do?

---

Sierpinski, Gania
I will let you two determine if Gania met the demon before or after Sierpinski helped banish it.

You retrieved the bracelet. It looks like nighttime is approaching on the horizon. There is a clear night and day line.

Townsfolk are boarding up their houses for the night in an ominous fashion. And all the guests heading toward the mayor's for dinner are also bringing weapons. It is unclear why.

Uri, Gania, Twessa
Uri, Baxtruss considered your offer, but ultimately rejected it. He seemed proud of himself for doing so too.

You also notice that the guests all have weapons, and that the manor is going into a sort of lockdown.

"Um, Gania, let's hurry and get inside..." Istvan says nervously...

It's cool, I get it, Uri replies.  It's your gig, you're in charge.  But if you change your mind I'm here.  For now, anyway.

Once the commotion starts, Uri asks the nearest servant what is going on, and if there is anything he can do to help.

Of his own accord, Sierpinski also (though he doesn't know the action Uri is taking) asks a passerby what is going on with the boarding up and the weapons.

Uri

The servant Uri addressed turned her head sideways quizzically. "You are a guest. It would be wrong of me to ask for your assistance with the nighttime preparations. That is what I am paid to do! I would not object to some more of your sweet melodies though. Maybe it will help ward off the reapers..." The orcish woman seemed oblivious to the fact that anything she was doing would seem out of the ordinary to Uri. She slid a thick beam of bone across the backside of the window shutters, barring them from the inside, then idly walked to the next window to do the same.

---

Sierpinski

The orc gentleman passing by Sierpinski paused and looked him up and down with scrutiny. He wore a tight-fitting leather jacket, but no shirt underneath. A huge broadsword was strapped over his shoulder. "What? They don't have night-dangers where you're from? Everyone just lets the reapers fly in and out of their houses every night as they please? No wonder outsiders are so rare. They probably all get slaughtered in their sleep!"

Harlin was made nervous by these preparations. He decided to go armed and armored in the manor until the learned more.

Uri hasn't heard of "reapers" before, so he asks the servant to tell him a little more about them.  He then plays a song to keep her spirits up (and any others nearby as well).  Something about overcoming this particular fear.

Arcane Art doesn't list any options that seem relevant here, so I'm not rolling for it at this time.  But we'll see what the future holds...

Gania grunted in agreement with Istvan's conclusion and joined the trickle of people moving to the manor. She tilted her head at the orc's explanation and her face lit up. "Repelling a horde is quite an improvement from some entertainments that we had."

Uri

"You want to know about what? The reapers?" The servant looked mildly surprised. "You don't have them where you're from? No, I suppose you wouldn't." The woman thought for a moment as she continued her work. Despite sealing up the manor like she was preparing for a siege, she did not seem overly concerned.

"My grandmother Stone-eye told me when I was little that the reapers are the bodies of the desert-dwellers reanimated. Inhabitants of the cities destroyed by our tarrasque long ago, before Travisi was a proper city itself. They fly in some nights, seeking to destroy Tevisi, which is impossible. But they often settle for picking off anyone who dares venture out into the night. Some of the oldest reapers are smart, and still know the magic of their ancestors. Including how to make more reapers..."

She frowned at the thought and paused in her work. "That's how my gran died, actually. She was escorting a pregnant woman to the infirmary who had gone into labor in the middle of the night. Granny got impaled, and was brought back as a pawn in the reapers' ranks. Makes my blood boil just thinking of it." For the barest moment, Uri could see some of the primal orcish fury her kind was known for welling up within the well-groomed servant. Then it was gone again. The servant continued on with her tasks.

---

Gania

The well-dressed orc smirked at Gania's comment. "I look forward to hearing all about it. But at the banquet. Come now, we must not be late! I hear mayor Ploth is planning on breaking out her meat seasonings for tonight. A rare treat indeed!" It seamed seasonings were a rare commodity in Tevisi.

Uri sat in contemplation for some time.  Eventually he reached some sort of conclusion, and he asked the servant Do you know where any of these ruined villages are?  Or is there someone who does?

Sierpinski pressed the stranger for all the information he was willing to provide in a few sentences, then he recommended to Gania that they rejoin the others in some defensible location.

Uri

"They say the feet of Tevisi have been crushed them beneath the sands long ago. I've heard rumors that there may still be treasure chambers and secret rooms still intact beneath the sands, guarded by powerful magics, sphinxes, and huge undead monsters. But that sounds rather silly to me. I think the reapers are the only thing truly left of those ancient cities." The servant gave Uri a kind smile, then continued with her tasks.

---

Sierpinski

The orc gentleman snorked, but did indulge Sierpinski's curiosity for a moment. He told the wizard that the reapers were monsters created from the bodies of the fallen. They sat somewhere between being reanimated corporeal dead, and awakened incorporeal spirits. Some of them possessed intelligence and magical aptitude, but all of them expressed hostility toward the living. Especially toward the citizens of Trevisi.

---

Everyone

It wasn't long before all of the adventurers met back up at the mayor's manor and had a chance to catch up with eachother. They had just enough time to relay what they had purchased, what rituals they had performed, what amenities were available, what dangers might come with the night, and what boy-bands they tried to join. Mozerat the dervish even pulled himself into the room to join the adventurers, walking on his three hands. His severed limbs seemed to have recovered quite significantly, but not enough to be usable yet.

As they waited in the main foyer and mingled with the other guests, they had a good view of the courtyard beyond the main doors. It was still bright as ever outside, but the abrupt line that marked the border between night and day was quickly approaching as the tarrasque city marched ever forward. The night-boarder moved quickly across the courtyard as the city took one last step forward, and it was as if someone had snuffed out the sun the way they might a candle. A stiff breeze blew in through the doorway and the main entrance was soon closed and barred.

Those with keener eyes noticed most of the guests subconsciously hoovering their hands over their weapons until the doors were firmly closed and locked. They visibly relaxed as candles were lit around the room. (Gods knew what sort of orifice they had to climb in to collect the wax.)

Only a minute or so later, the doors to the banquet hall were thrown open and the smell of seasoned meats wafted out to greet everyone. The long bone dining table was draped in colorful leathers and piled high with dishes of various meats. Thick-cut steaks, thin bacon-like strips, fatty gelatin gravies, and even a full roasted badger or two. There were no signs of salads or fruit bowls to be seen. Only meats. But the other guests did not seem to mind.

As the guests began to file in, Mayor Ploth stood at the head of the table, arms raised. Her long hair waved elegantly over her intricately engraved leather robes. "Greetings, guests! Come, eat, sit where you please. Tonight we feast in honor of our new guests! Tonight is to be a night of merriment and relaxation. A night of stories shared and experiences gained. Welcome!"

What do you do?

---

It is night time and everyone at the party is filing in to the banquet room. Feel free to tell a bit about who you are sitting next to. The people we know who are attending are as follows:

Mayor Ploth Krag, the Reaper-Reaper
Pinion, advisor to the mayor
High priest of Gantinara, Dogran Skullcracker
Bunch of other orcs
Couple of avens
One halfling
Mozerat Salazzan, the dervish hireling
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:58, Thu 04 July 2019.

Sierpinski is sitting on the opposite side of someone from Harlin and the three of them are talking.

Gania seated herself next to the High priest and gestured for Mozerat to choose a seat nearby. She didn't ask any questions, yet, for it was a poor manner for a guest to request things first. Her eyes followed the smell and locked onto the platters as they were brought in, her hands tensing on the seat as she forced herself to wait. It was even harder to stand up after the major finished her welcome "Thank you for the wonderful welcome to your magnificent city! We have traded for tools and weapons already, and may we do as well with stories!" She did not mention her false accusation of the citizens, but her left hand did check the bracer once again. Just in case.

Uri suddenly found that he was feeling famished, and his focus was mainly on the plates coming out from the kitchen.  While he hate he spoke with his aven neighbor, inquiring about his culture and how his people had come to live here with the orcs.

Harlin's and Sierpinski's dining companion was a garrulous elderly orc, and clearly quite wealthy from the steel rings braided into his long forked beard. It took only the slightest prompting for the fellow to carry the conversation, talking abut how things on the tarrasque were much worse now than in his youth.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Sun 07 July 2019.

Istvan was seated on the other side of the High Priest from Gania. The High Priest started talking to Istvan...

"So you're an arcane duelist? That must be a fascinating career. Have you ever studied the stars? I mean in relation to the time of your birth? What time of day or night were you born? You strike me as having been born under the sign of the sword, but at first glance I took you as maybe the sign of the eagle..."

The priest was right, but left Istvan no gap in the rather one-way conversation to confirm it (nor, so far, to change the subject)...

"I personally was born under the sign of the wolf, but people who first meet me often assume I'm the sign of the dragon..." the priest went on...

Istvan didn't rely mind being talked at, but it was a little overwhelming...

As the conversation flowed, the young orc Uri had met earlier played his drums in the corner, setting the atmosphere for the banquet. He shot a glare in Uri's direction every so often, but the chatter was pleasant regardless. The aven Uri was talking with, Mr. Talon, turned out to be the head of the scout brigade. An elite unit of sharp-eyed orcs and strong-flying avens who would keep an eye on the path their city took. It was actually some of his men who had spotted the adventurers in the sands.

When Uri asked about how avens came to live in Trevisi with the orcs, Mr. Talon was more than happy to share what he knew. "Most of us avens, dare I say all of us, can trace our ancestry to the ancient Cities of Arcana that once dotted this desert landscape. When they were destroyed by the tarrasque long ago, the avens escaped to the air to avoid death. Many families tried to live as nomads, always evading the tarrasque as it tromped around, but Trevisi is tireless and avens are not. Over the ensuing decades, many lost their lives or were driven from this land entirely. Others, well, they got over their hatred for the tarrasque that destroyed their ancestral home and made a new start atop their enemy's back. Thankfully they were welcomed with open arms by the followers of Gantinara. And I think feasting on the beast that brought my people into ruination is exemplary payback, don't you?" He lifted a chunk of meat and swallowed it down his gullet.

Next to Istvan, Gania, and Mozerat, the high priest Dogran Skullcracker continued with his unstoppable chatter. He seemed to insist on sharing his own stories before hearing any that the adventurers might want to share themselves. His stories ranged from star signs, to local gossip, to his personal interpretations of scripture. "...You'll never guess what sign my niece's son was born under. The harp! I mean, can you even believe it?..." "...she wasn't supposed to be at the service, but I wasn't about to turn her away. Not when she went through all the trouble of collecting the necessary extracts. Her husband was not pleased though, I can tell you that..." "...but I think that if you do all of your prayers and make the necessary sacrifices, even an absolute curmudgeon could expect a simple blessing of health or prosperity..." Dogran Skullcracker showed no signs of stopping without someone blatantly cutting him off mid-sentence.

The older fellow Harlin and Sierpinski were chatting with, Daggerthroat Iron-beard, was similarly talkative, but not quite as obsessively so. The two adventurers could at least get a word in edgewise. "Back when I was just a pup, long before I became head of bonemasonry, you could leave your tools out overnight without fear of things going missing. But of course the youths of today aren't nearly as great as the people of my generation. Now you cant trust people not to sneak around and take your equipment. We need to lock it up inside now! Even the reapers have changed lately, taking out bone-cutting supplies when they're left unguarded. What could they possibly need them for?" He continued on like this until the mayor eventually spoke up again.

"Ahem," the mayor said, clearing her throat and standing up. The background drumming ceased. Almost everyone fell silent, except Dogran Skullcracker, who continued talking. "Dogran! Quiet!" The old priest finally shut his mouth. "As you all know, this is a night of storytelling. I am glad to hear some tales being spread among yourselves already, but I was wondering if one of these lovely adventurers might volunteer a tale to tell the entire crowd. Please, would one of you offer to step forward?" The mayor gestured to a spot next to her at the front of the table.

Just then, a loud blood curdling shriek rang out through the night. It sounded as if it came from outside, like someone was in serious trouble. All of the mayor's guests turned their heads toward the sound of the scream, but then most turned back toward the mayor almost as if nothing had happened. Although a few hands did grip weapons subconsciously. "Sorry about that," mayor Ploth apologized. "Now, do I have any volunteers to tell the first story?"

What do you do?

---

The mayor asked for a volunteer to share a story with the group. A shriek echoed through the air outside, as if someone were in trouble. However, the party-goers seemed more focused on the banquet than looking into who might be in trouble.

Istvan, when the call for volunteers to tell a story comes, looks at Uri. What's a bard for, if not for times like this...? he thinks...

Uri catches Istvan's glance, and responds with a quick glance of his own in the direction of the scream.  He then stands and raises his glass to the mayor, saying You might as well ask if I would like to continue breathing.

Now, I don't have my own story for you today, but a story of Prince Raz'ul of the Dwarves, himself a bard of considerable talent.  I never knew Raz'ul myself, but my grandfather once met him while on a mining expedition, and they traded tales for much of the time...

And with that, Uri launches into the story of Raz'ul's escape from the City of Illusion, complete with magic, intrigue, and a nerve-wracking chase scene.

Not wanting to risk losing priest's good grace, Gania let him prattle on, nodding at his story. Her hands clenched under the table, nails threatening to draw blood by the time mayor saved her from further flagellation.

Gania might have risen to tell a tale herself, but her attention remained locked at the shriek. Half rising and ignoring any etiquette, she peered at the boarded windows.

20:32, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 2d6+1.  Discern Realities - commotion outside.
If asking - what is about to happen?

As Uri continued to tell his tale, Gania caught sight of movement outside the window through one of the cracks in the shutter. It was only the briefest glimpse, but was enough to convince the barbarian to take a closer look. Nobody stopped her as Gania got up and approached the window. Either it wasn't seen as rude here, or nobody wanted to make the adventurer feel uncomfortable by reprimanding her for breaking decorum. However, when Gania looked through the crack in the shutters, whatever had been there earlier was now gone.

Uri's story was interrupted by a couple more screams from outside, but they sounded like they were further away than the first. About halfway through the tale, a soldier quietly entered from the back of the room and marched as quietly as she could toward Mr. Talon, the head of the scout brigade. The soldier whispered something in his ear, then Mr. Talon looked around the table apologetically before quietly excusing himself from the room mid-story.

Just as Uri was wrapping up his tale, Gania caught sight of something outside again. A silhouette against the dark sky. It was difficult to judge how far away it was through the closed shutters. Even so, Gania could clearly make out the glimmering spear that sailed through the air toward it, piercing the flying shadow. The flying figure began to fall. It looked like it would land near the window and Gania would finally be able to catch a good glimpse of whatever it was.

It was only at the last second that she realized it wasn't going to land near the window after all. But instead, it was going to land on the window.

With a loud crash, the window Gania stood next to shattered inward. The figure landed in a heap with the warrior woman and let out a feral shriek. The creature was like an animated skeleton of a person that still housed chunks of flesh, but it was all held together by a blanket of spectral shadow. Something half physical, half incorporeal. But entirely undead monstrosity. It writhed on the ground like a blanket flapping in the wind, clawing at anyone nearby even with the spear of bone still skewered through its torso.

"A reaper? In my own home?" mayor Ploth said with tones of incredulous rage. Several of the mayor's guests gasped. Yet others immediately stood, weapons in hand.

What do you do?

---

A reaper crashed through one of the windows, knocking Gania over in the process.

Gania
You take 1d4 damage. Armor counts. Add your XP if you haven't yet.

What is about to happen?
Crash!
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:11, Tue 16 July 2019.

Harlin leapt to his feet, limbering his bow. "Quickly!" he snapped. "What hurts these?" Without waiting for a reply, he jumped the table toward Gania and loosed an arrow, as Quickclaw also raked at the spectral thing.

Volley. 6 tangible damage.

You have to move to get the shot placing you in danger as described by the GM.

13:52, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  Damage (w/cat).
13:50, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Volley.

Gania, still not completely recovered from her fight with Mozerat, wasn't fast enough to avoid the flailing claws. Finding her footing, she opted to fight back instead of retreat, struggling to find a good angle to attack with her sword without striking the spear that had brought the creature to the ground. "What would Raz'ul do now?" she asked Uri, looking for a distraction against the pain.

21:03, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 2 using 1d4-1.  Crash damage.
21:03, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 9 using 2d6+2.  Slash reaper.
21:04, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3 using 1d10+1.  Damage.