You are released from your cells, equipped with your personal effects or assigned equipment and brought to a convention hall to receive your orders. SGT Nick Banner stands in the stage area and at last speaks up.

 "Alright, lets get this over with. I don't think this is a good idea, but orders are orders,so I have to oversee this circus. By now you should all know the deal. You complete the mission, you get time off your sentences, you disobey my orders and boom. Now, I'll let you introduce yourselves to the group or ask any questions before I tell you what we'll be having you do today."

"Alright, lets get this over with. I don't think this is a good idea, but orders are orders,so I have to oversee this circus."

At the edge of the group, a stream of thin smoke drifted into the air from Reign's smoke. The smoke reeked of age, stale, its brown wrapper light and dull especially against Reign's own skin that caught every shift of day's light. It was the way of his kind to shine, his celestial heritage often noticed but unknown. Yet as far as angelic beings appeared, he seemed as though he would not react...positively to such a comment.

One almost-taloned hand - wrapped in a fingerless glove - held the thin cigar in one hand while the other drapped over the stock of a musket. The firearm rested on his shoulder, craddling the nook of his neck up against the rune etched into his skin.

"By now you should all know the deal. You complete the mission, you get time off your sentences, you disobey my orders and boom."
Conveniently Reign felt that rune itching like the reaper's hungry scythe. Just beneath his necklace, just beneath the pair of goggles he kept down for now. For now his golden gaze was not cast at the speaker, but down at the ground. Listening. Observing. Enjoying his delicious smoke. It would have been tastier if he could have been sharing it with his pops.

Maybe by the time this was done with this shit, he could.

"Now, I'll let you introduce yourselves to the group or ask any questions before I tell you what we'll be having you do today."

Introduce ourselves, Reign thought, As though we didn't know each other well enough by now. Reign was quiet, but certainly not shy. His words were kept curt, quick, sometimes with an unpredictable snap behind the syllables. He'd mixed words with that goblin, and that one with the fox on his neck. And then there was also that Winterwood, their voice as scratchy as a bare branch in the winter wind.

Reign didn't expect a group of toughs would be one to make proper introductions, not like the etiquette of the Great Aasimar Houses. He knew those ways once.

Without lifting his head, or even his eyes, Reign lifted his voice.

"Reign."

He tipped his musket into the air.

"Pleasure."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:34, Thu 22 Apr 2021.

“My name is Mike.”

Mike was busy putting on his clothes as sexy as possible.

Not very sexy. Unless a hairy 40 year old dad bod is your thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Thu 22 Apr 2021.

"Oh, hi everyone. A pleasure to be working with all of you!"

Hil's face was the only part of him that wasnt covered in tatoos. His smile seemed genuine, and he'd been very nice and well behaved as a prisoner.

Well, nice and well behaved other than the whole heresy thing, but no one seemed to care if he preached his nonsense to prisoners.

Though everyone knew he was a priest of some weird god. He wasn't aggressive about recruiting or anything, but it was still a little disquieting.

"Call me Hil. Or Elder Tendril Hil if you are trying to butter me up. I'm a priest of Azathoth, The Supreme God at the Center Of The Universe and Creator of All Things.

And I do have a question. I was wrongfully imprisoned for manslaughter and not so wrongfully convicted of heresy.

Is it ok to pray and invoke the powers of Azathoth while this mission? I'm afraid I'm not going to be much use other than making a mean cup of tea."

His smile appeared genuine. At least to the foolish.

 A large, hairy giant of a man sits quietly with a massive sword slung across his shoulders casually. When it came time for his turn,he spoke in very simple language and a rugged tone.

"Cael."

Surely this could not be the same Cael that was said to have slaughtered a whole village over a stubbed toe. Even if this was "The Whirlwind", all those stories cannot be true,could they? He then pointed to the sword he was carrying.

"And this is Natasha."

“Oh shit Cael! I too have a talking sword! But they won’t let me have it until I do all the missions for them. Very cool to meet a fellow servant of the sword!”

Offers a fist bump.

 Cael looks at Mike's extended fist for a second and then up to Mike's face before replying.

"Don't be weird boy."

Moves his fist to his mouth and clears his throat. "Cough. Ahem. Yeah, you right you right. My sword don't talk to me I was just saying that." Winks.

Then moves far away from Cael.

As he passes Hil he offers him a fist bump. "Greetings Hil. Pray to whatever you like, if your god answers then sign me up too."

Fox left his cell quickly, eager to be out of that small space. He made first and foremost for his spell book, flipping through it to make sure it hadn't been harmed. As he did so, he only half listened to the sergeant and the others, and looked up when he registered that the talking had stopped.

"Name's Fox," he said before looking to Cael. "You wouldn't happen to be that Cael would you, the Whirlwind? Mad dog killer type?"

The goblin is lying on his belly, with a chalk he got from somewhere and is doodling on the floor. His eyes narrow, tongue flicking out as he focuses. As a guard passes if one passes that is, he looks up from his tiny spot and growls before going back to his odd drawing. Kholt doesn't look up as Banner starts his speech. As soon as he says 'Boom' the goblin jumps up, eyes wide. He glances at all the others looking like a deer in headlights. The man doesn't say a word and he slowly sits down, grabbing his chalk. He attempts to bite his lips and looks like some odd dog attempting it then goes back to drawing. He ponders something 'Do what Banner wants or die'. Yup. That's normal. Do what the guards want. That's another normal thing. Beat up on the goblin. Yes. Another normal thing. All of this people talking and everyone getting all personal.He finally gets up and looks around. He sulutes Banner in a mocking fashion. The goblin tugs his belongings around, stopping at times to catch his breath. Sniffing the air, he caught a whiff of the cigar smoking gunslinger and mutters under his breath ".....fire. Fire....boom boom....." He taps his chin, putting chalk on it but he doesn't seem to mind. Hil has a lot to learn. A pleasure to work with everyone? Seriously?

A guard walk towards the group with a prisoner in front of him.  It is a well dress elf that seems to have been kept somewhere else in the prison.  From a different level and not with the normal prisoners.
The elf stands leaning on his longbow.  Slowly looking round at the group and smiles.

I am Glitterdale Dust-star.  Cook and cafe owner.

He then turns his head on one side.
Is that young Nick Banner I see.  Looking straight at the Sargent.
I have not seen you for a while.  You must been so high the last time I did.
The elf places his hands about 4 ft of the ground.
Hows your mum and dad.  Hope they are doing well.  Not seem them at the cafe in awhile.
The elf smiles even more.  He pulls a cookie out of one of his pouches.
You want one of my cookies.  I know you always like to pull one out of the cookie jar when nobody's looking.
The elf offers the Sargent a cookie.
Oh they still let me make them in here.
The elf frowns, realizing he still in prison and not back at his cafe.  Which is what he dreams of when he rests and closes his eyes.

In reply to Sorin Vulca (msg # 9):

"I am not Mad Dog. I am whole wolf pack."

"Right, that answers that then. If it's all the same to you, you walk in front." Sorin said, taking a healthy half step away from the infamous mass murderer.

In reply to Glitterdale Dust-star (msg # 11):

 "I thought you looked familiar. It brings me no joy to see you here. Just do the jobs and stay alive and you can get out of this. I only barely remember you, but I doubt you were guilty of too much. That was for the courts to decide though."

 SGT Banner looks over to Cael soon after.

 "Dog or Wolfpack, I'm the one holding your leash, Whirlwind. I will not hesitate to take you down if you go rogue on me."

A comparably plain-looking woman was stroking the black cat in her arms, seemingly pleased to be reunited with her pet. The feline seemed to return the affection with an affectionate purring. By virtue of her build one would guess she is of middle class, and a full-body cloak covers what appears to be leather armor covered in the etchings of many peculiar sigils.

In the zoo that was either wildly bragging, acting tougher then they should or dribbling from the mouth, she seemed like a last bastion of sanity and reason and therefore wisely stayed away from antagonizing the first group.

Seeing the group eventually turn to her after the expected posturing she spoke quickly to get it over with.
"Oh, um. I'm Naeva. Pleased to meet you. I hope I can be of help."

The cat purred on contently.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:10, Thu 22 Apr 2021.

Marcia wrinkles her nose at the unclean state of her clothes, but it doesn't prevent her from slipping into her armor with an easy familiarity or comfortably belting the thin sword around her waist. The armor and sword belt are both tightened to first hole -- and still looks a little loose. A neatly mended travelers coat covers her from possible bad weather, and makes her look a normal amount of substantial.

She gives Reign a dip of her head in acknowledgement, but mostly watches the introductions without comment.

"I'm Sia." She volunteers succinctly when her turn comes around. From her rough voice, it sounds as though every word is an effort. "I'll look after any hoofstock. Can help with supplies and direction."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Thu 22 Apr 2021.

Glitterdale nodded to the Sargent.
It is so nice to be remembered.  I excepted the judgement.  I understand the current manager of my shop is doing well.  Even expanded the number of shops I understand, so that is all good.

He steps forward and whispers something in Sorin Vulca ear.

Leaning against the wall, Kholt look up at the ceiling. He tilts his head, raising the chalk up at it and seeming to trace something above. He grins and then starts to draw on the wall, just circles in different sizes. Bored, the goblin waits for a moment, glancing at the others. That guys needs to get put down a peg. Or two. Or a lot. He realizes he is staring at Banner, eyes narrowing but his attention turns on Naeva. Kholt then lies flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling again and holds the chalk up to it. He then jumps up "Boom boom boom." Its like he's talking to himself and kneels down to his backpack rummaging around in the massive pack. Course its massive to him at least. He grabs the side of it attacked and it looks like a extension of his arm. Onto his back he goes, resting on the backpack as he holds the odd thing.

In reply to Marcia Winterwood (msg # 16):

"They can't all be hardened warrior types, but I do like your attitude."

Mike made notes of everyone's names in a little book, then approached Banner.

"All right Sarge,  I'll keep em all in line. I ain't the smartest but I know how to follow orders. I know you'll get around to telling us the mission when you're good and ready, and I'm sure you've already analyzed who among us is the best for being-quote un-quote-team leader. Meaning you already know I'm gonna be the first to volunteer to be team leader."

He bows politely to Banner.

Sorin nodded along with Glitterdale, then turned his attention back to the sergeant. He snorted at Mike's talk of leadership. "I don't think any of us need more encouragement to behave than the bombs in our chests, kiss-ass," he said with a sneer before addressing the man with the ability to set off said bombs. "On that note though, I would actually like to know what exactly needs doing."

 Urik gathered with the others but made no attempt to make small talk. He spent a few moments going through his gear and rearranged some things and checked his weapons. He moved around in his armor, adjusting as needed, it had been awhile since he wore it. "Feels good." He said to no one in particular.
 The fur skinned Tiefling paused when the man in front started talking. He watched to man-goblin sketch on the floor as Banner finished his speech, then waited as everyone introduced themselves. Nodding a greeting to the priest and the ladies when they did so. 'Manners, can't forget my manners. Mama wouldn't be happy with me if I did' "I'm Urik Wren." He finally said and then looked at Sgt Banner. "When do we eat. Can't expect us to be at our best with the slop ya's have been throwing at us in here."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:05, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Standing up again, the goblin grabs his pack and drags it across the ground. He seems focused on Naeva and stops. Kholt grips the odd item on his hand like its his baby and grins at the cat. He's definatly got sharp teeth that stick up from the corners of his mouth "Soft kitty, warm kitty little bar of fur!" He sits down and starts to draw on the floor again "Kiss-ass. kiss-ass." Kholt keeps on drawing, not looking up at the others but occasionally glances up at the cat and waves.

Hil remained quiet as the others introducing themselves, though he couldn't help let out a chuckle at the 'kiss ass' comments.

"You know, for a bunch of convicted criminals, we're getting along swimmingly I think. What an.. interesting collection you've assembled.

I agree with Sorin though, knowing what we're doing would be helpful.

After all, if we're catering a party, the clear choice for leader is Glitterdale Dust Star."

Glitterdale pops the cookie into his mouth he is holding.  He closes his eyes as the sweet butter cookie just melts in his mouth.  Mmmm.
He turns to Urik Wren.  Ah yes.  You don't get to cook for yourselves over here.
The elf looks back at the guard that had brought him here.  The two smiled at each other.
Glitterdale pulls out another cookie.
Would you like a cookie Urik Wren I have plenty and can always make more.
Turning to Hil.
I have not cater for a large party in awhile.  It would be fun to do one again.  Would you like cookie as well Hil.
The elf pulls out a second cookie ready to give them out if required.

Looking up from his scribbles, the goblin slowly moves towards the Cookie Monster. He holds his hand out "Cookie? Two? Three?" He attempts to give one heck of a smile but it looks like a vampire took over his mouth.

Glitterdale hands Kholt one of the cookies he has and then replaces it from his pouch ready if anybody else needs a cookie.

The goblin gets growled at as he takes the cookiee. His eyes narrowed and he turns to walk off, scuffing his feet on the ground. He takes the cookie, breaks it in half and goes to offer it to the cat. Yes. The cat. Another big grin.

"Pipe down you two." It wasn't clear which two he meant. "Sarge will explain the mission when he knows we are ready to hear the mission. Now until then, I suggest a bit more introductions are necessary. We can all gather our specialities by simply looking at each other, look he has the biggest muscles and this little guy likes fire and is a modern artist. But I can't for the life of me expect that this guy is just gonna make us cookies the whole time, but if you are, that's fucking awesome and you're my favorite!

"Short story long, what can you all do? Me, I'm the head. Team Leader. El Jefe. I talk for the group and make sure we all come across as badass. Some of you have referred to it as kiss-ass, it would be better if you began to refrain from such nonsense. Now then, what can you do, Sorin?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:01, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

The goblin bursts out laughing and falls to the ground. He keeps going on. Really? Mike doesn't know a damn thing! He ponders something as he laughs 'Reall? No one leads anyone here. If anyone thinks I will follow them they are insane. Finally he calms down and looks around for his half a cookiee. Finding it, he gulps it down and wipes off his lips. The goblin takes the other half and puts it down near the cat. All of this for a bunch of hardened criminals? Seriously? Sooner or later everyone will fight the others.Sooner or late. It will happen. No one leads Kholt. Well besides the guy that can blow him up! He sits down and starts to draw again. Perhaps its his oulet "Kiss-ass kiss-ass..." Scribble scribble "Kitty! Meow!" Is he completely nuts?

"Oh, any time friend. Cookies are, indeed, delicious. Perhaps when I get to town and can find some decent tea. No point in making things without the appropriate.. ingredients."

After Mike's request for quiet, Hil shut up.

He just stared at Mike as he spoke, deadpan for a few seconds as he proclaimed himself the boss, before laughing hysterically.

"Oh, sorry, don't mind me. I just remembered something hilarious. Please, continue oh Captain my Captain.

Marcia looks at the sergeant and looks at the brown nosing, insecure thug that declared himself in charge while demonstrating the leadership skills of a playground bully.  “How much time from sentence?” She asks the sergeant quietly in her calmest rasp. She gives Reign, Naeva, Glitterdake, Sorin, and even Kholt a skeptical, and slightly pleading look.

Grinning as he hears Hil, he blurts out rather loudly "Captain Kiss-ass! Captain Kiss-ass!" Wow. He goes back to drawing. Again.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Sorin growled at Mike's question, pulling at the collar of his armor enough to expose his tattoo. "Only two people in this world get to call me by that name, and you're neither of them. You call me Fox," he said before covering the distinctive marking back up. "As for what I do, you could call me a locksmith, and an arcane layman. That good enough for you, boss?" He spat the last word in a mocking tone of voice, making his thoughts about Mike's claims evident.


This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

“I’ll never remember that. Your name tag says sorin so you’re sorin. Want to change it? Get a marker and write a new tag.”

He didn’t mind the name calling or lack of respect one bit. He expected it, therefore there was no need for rebuttal. He was slowly getting the info he needed.

“And you, Mister Boom Boom Dynamite TNT! Surely you do something amazing???” He asked Kholt

Whistling, the goblin keeps on drawing and doesn't look up. Scribble scribble "Bite me Captain Kiss-ass." The retort comes out and he puts a hand to his mouth as if ashamed but then it lowers and a wicked grin comes across his face. And then he does a raspberry before going back to drawing.

Reign listened, glancing up at times to put names to faces, note the predictable blustering that came with mortal masculinity, ponder the pyromaniac pep-talk. There was no such thing as 'getting used to' this. At least for him. There was only the acceptance that came with the diligent discipline of running from one's duty. Though Reign had been running his whole life. He still got caught.

Sia's nod is replied to with a tilt of his chin; hoofstock maintenance would be a necessary skill if the mission required it. Until they knew anything more, how would they know what skills they would need besides spilling blood? The fact that their handlers gave them their equipment back was notable enough. Hell, they gave him back his firearm; they really wanted someone to bite the dust to give him back such a deadly weapon.

Reign gave Glitterdale a soft shake of his head to decline the cookies. "No. Thanks, though." It was an alarmingly kind gesture, though being that they let the man here, and he hadn't seen them before, he couldn't help but wonder what were in those sweets. More accurately, he couldn't bring himself yet to think of eating sweets while his pops ate gruel and grubs in their cell.

Like rain to oiled sails, the loud one's words completely unaffected the firearmist. But they didn't go unnoticed. Instead of responding Reign took another draw off his smoke before unclasping one of the silver latches on his bandoleer. He peeked inside and sighed, smoke curling over the side of his face. He had to wonder if anyone had taken a peek at his ammo cache.

Ten. Ten powder-packed pellets, wrapped in thin paper packs.

Plenty.

“How much time from sentence?”

"Who knows?" Even mumbling, Reigns voice held the ring of a crystal bell sounding in the deep. Clear, low, pure. If Sia could catch it - at just the right angle behind Reign's head - there was the faintest ring of that rosegold halo.

"Could depend on the body count." The wink he gave her was easy to notice on a face as mute as mourning.

He was grateful that the man he referred to mentally as the Fox preferred it that way. Made things a little easier.

"Bite me Captain Kiss-ass."

Reign raised an eyebrow ever so gently. Not at Kholt's reaction...

That guy was still talking?

"I'll have questions on the mission," Reign says, clearly to their handler and not dad body, before he takes another pull and says, "once we know what it is."

He points his head straight up, releasing the smoke from his lips in perfect orbital puffs. Glitterdale's cookies made him think of his pops, stuck back in his cell, eating shit for snacks.

We'll get you out pops.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:45, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

If looks could kill, Sorin would have murdered Mike twice over. His hand began to drift to the hilt of his sword before stopping, seemingly thinking better. He folded his hands behind his back and began pointedly ignoring Mike, looking to Kholt. "childish, I like it. What're they saying you did to get in here?"

Rolling his eyes at Sorin's comment, the goblin keeps on drawing. He taps the ground a few times and then looks up at the magus. No words. His face now looks crestfallin and he looks like he wants to start crying. The goblin curls up near his backpack, hiding his face.

"Intentionally antagonizing the guy who sneaks around after dark with magic and carries a shortsword? Very brave of you, Captain!

Now me? I'm just a humble priest of Azathoth.

I summon things from beyond the void. Monsters. Acid. Healing, flesh devouring energies, that sort of thing. If any of you get injured I'll try and heal you in the morning after doing my prayers.

Also, I'm not completely blind to the ways of etiquette and diplomacy."

Hil began chewing his cookie, offering thanks to Glitterstar. He wondered if they contained human flesh. Ah well, they were probably cooked if they did. Impressive if he pulled that off while in jail!

"I'll get to the point. This first mission will likely be less dangerous and more political. Near our ocean city of Kingsport there have been a disturbing number of scarecrows appearing during the night and surrounding the town. They are never around any fields and in a more bizarre twist, are all armed for some reason. In addition, a prince of neighboring nation has gone missing around that area. We are using you as a useful resource to look into this, recover the prince, if possible, and all without causing an international incident because you are a band of rogue criminals instead of any part of our country. Any questions?"

Mike clasped his hands together like "amen" and bowed slightly to Hil. "Thank you."

Then he got a bit closer so not everyone could hear, "The healing and flesh devouring...I uh...not that I expect you would wanna heal the likes of me...but...the flesh devouring kind will work better on me. If you ever feel like keeping me tip top."

When Banner ignored Mike completely is when Mike silently blew a fuse. "I'll show you all a kiss-ass."

Mike ran right up to Banner and kicked him in the butt, channeling all the dark energy he could into that ass. If only...if only he was wearing shoes maybe it would have gone better.

-----
11:46, Today: Mike Bison rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  smite good. +3 charisma if he's good, which still won't hit, so I fully expect to have my head blown off now. thanks.

 As a swift action, the antipaladin chooses one target within sight to smite. If this target is good, the antipaladin adds his Charisma bonus (if any) on his attack rolls and adds his antipaladin level on all damage rolls made against the target of his smite. If the target of smite good is an outsider with the good subtype, a good-aligned dragon, or a good creature with levels of cleric or paladin, the bonus to damage on the first successful attack increases to 2 points of damage per level the antipaladin possesses. Regardless of the target, smite good attacks automatically bypass any DR the creature might possess.

In addition, while smite good is in effect, the antipaladin gains a deflection bonus equal to his Charisma modifier (if any) to his AC against attacks made by the target of the smite. If the antipaladin targets a creature that is not good, the smite is wasted with no effect.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:49, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Looking up from his spot he watches Mike swing a kick at Banner. Immediatly he curls up into a ball expecting the so-called bomb to go off and explode sending bits and pieces of the Dhampir all around the room! Here lies Mike aka Captain Kiss-Ass. May he rot in peace.He waits for a moment and pops his head up. Whats he thinking? He -wants- to see him explode. Big fiery explosion! The goblin waits looking like a kid at a candy store!
This message was last edited by the player at 19:11, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

At Kholt's reaction to his words, Sorin stared in small confusion before refocusing on the sergeant, taking in the orders with a nod. As he was preparing to respond, he saw Mike decide to commit suicide and his eyes lit up with a sadistic glee as he ducked into his still open cell. He didn't want to get chunks of a dead man all over himself after all.

 Sergeant Banner was at a loss that one of them would be so foolhardy. He was prepared to drop his attacker, but figured he needed to show the group the runes were indeed not a bluff. Focusing on Mike and then snapping his fingers, the explosive went off. The effect was dramatic, but localized, not risking much damage to anyone next to the now headless man.

 SGT. Banner wiped himself off and looked back to the group.

"I say again, any questions?"

Glitterdale asks.
Do you know how many scarecrows?  What has happened to the scarecrows found?
What is the name of prince that gone missing and do we know why he was in the area?

Finally he had Banner's attention...

In reply to Glitterdale Dust-star (msg # 46):

"The number of the scarecrows seems to increase every night. There have been some efforts to dispose of them, but so far not much more than a few pranking children vandalizing some.

As for the Prince. He is Halim Kushar. Not directly in line for the throne, but still enjoy the benefits of his wealth and royalty. As far as I am aware, he was in Kingsport on a mission of entertainment and self-indulgence. His welfare and whereabouts is more important than the silly Scarecrow army, however, as they say, two birds, one stone."

"Wow that was amazing Large Sarge! I guess Mike really was a kiss-ass after all. He died wanting your approval. He he he."

Wait.

Was she there the whole time? Hanging on the rafters???

"He He...Someone help me down."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:02, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Sorin stepped out of the cell, smirking at the headless corpse. Fixing his full attention on the sargeant, he answered with his own questions. "I only have four questions. Where was the prince last seen exactly, will transportation be provided to said location, what kind of time frame do we have to get this done in, and lastly, can I dig through and keep any of his shit that I like?" he asked, pointing to the corpse.

"Thought you didn't like him, Foxy Loxy. But now you want souvenirs of your time spent with Mike. Awwwww."

She purrs from the rafters.

"Now does anyone have a ladder or a trampoline or something? I'm ready to come down."

Sorin looked up at the woman hanging from the rafters and shrugged."Just because he was an idiot doesn't mean he didn't have nice stuff. Be a shame to let go of any potions he might have had, for example."

"WOW!" The goblin stares at the headless man and he grins. He gets up rather fast and gets up to the body "Go boom? Boom boom." Kholt pokes at the body and he tilts his head "Fire? No no no." He sighs and looks down at his feet then looks up at the rafters and reaches up but he is too short and bites his oversize mouth and looks over at the dead body then pokes it again. "No no Kiss-ass." He yawns "Bored now. Go play?" He attempts to poke his head where the mans head once was as if to mock him before going back to his backpack and his odd arm thing and holds it tightly "Draw now..." He goes back to his scribbles.

In reply to Sorin Vulca (msg # 50):

"In order, he last seen visiting The Elder Beerman, a well know tavern in Kingsport. Transportation will be provided. This time you will have as much time as you need, with my supervision. Lastly, anything that survived the blast is the property of the state, so no."

Hil threw the rest of his gore splattered cookie down on Mike's corpse. What a pity.

He smiled, happy to be useful, as Qarley spoke.

"Fear not. I have the holy powers of Azathtoh to aid you. Jump."

Hil spoke... words. Words that were difficult to understand even for spell casters, in profane languages that should not exist, and eyes eyes glowed black as he called upon the Blind Idiot God.

Featherfall on Qarley when she jumps. Believe it or not, I get this as a domain spell.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

"Damn, worth a shot. Ready to go when you are, boss." Sorin said, his voice lacking the blatant mockery with which he had addressed Mike as boss.

"See! Now we're working together! This is called a trust fall! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

She screams all the way down, slowly, into Hil's arms. "OH Hiya Handsome!" And kisses him on the mouth.

"The name is Qarley Huinn (pronounces it Karly Win) Okay let's go beat up some scared crows."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:54, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

"Ha, now he's Smeared boy."

Cael remains just as relaxed as before, un-phased by the death that unfolded before him.

Marcia's eyes widen a little at the wink, and Reign subtly revealing his divine heritage.  She exhales silently, and lets some of the tension leak from her shoulders. It was a little like a nervous horse deciding things were maybe okay for now.  She was willing to extend Reign the faith that he would act rationally. Marcia leaned lightly against a wall, well back from the..confrontation. But there was a sense of readiness -- if something happened in Reign's direction, she would help.

She was expecting something gross from Mike, but not have her shoes spattered with his brains.  She made an undignified squeak as she leapt out of the way.

"What should we do if we find the Prince?  What if he's dead?" Sia asked carefully. Politics were difficult, and most nobility were guilty of something.  But she didn't know enough about nobles to understand who would benefit from misplacing this prince. It could be a family rivalry. The prince could be a secret rebel or cultist.

In reply to Marcia Winterwood (msg # 59):

"If the prince is alive, there is an liaison to return him to. If he is dead, just make sure the public can find the body so it looks like bandits or other ne're do-wells did him in. If on the off chance he is a threat to our national interest, then be those ne're do-wells."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:25, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Glitterdale looks at SGT Banner hard.
So the end result is you want whoever is putting up scarecrows to stop doing it and if they planning something bad to stop it.  You also want the result of what happens to the princes to look good for our country and look bad or indifferent for the princes.

He then adds.
Are you coming with us.  Watching from a far or staying here.  Oh and lastly could I have say 4 - 6 black cloak that fit most of us.  I think they will be useful.  I am will to pay for them if need be but I need to make sure nobody know we have them.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:44, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

"Smeared boy! Smeared boy!" Kholt laughs as he keeps drawing "Burn burn burn go the scarecrows. No more crows. Boom! They gone. Boom." Scribble scribble "Prince of thieves. Prince of thieves. Go prince elsewhere. No not here. No not here." He sits up "Handsome Hil is here. Handsome Hil is here!" Kholt slowly stands up and falls down from the gore of Mike and grumbles "Go now? We play?" Is he nuts? Maybe. He grabs his backpack, holding his odd arm and holds it into the air "Tag your it!"

In reply to Glitterdale Dust-star (msg # 61):

"I will be coming with you, but working from a distance to supervise, but remain discreet. Those cloaks can be provided for you, that would be a good idea. Anyone else or are you all properly prepared?"

There was certainly shock in Reign's face, indicative of both eyebrows raised this time. It wasn't the piece of jawbone that flew past his head in a bloody trail, nor the damsel descending from the rafters. It was the sheer idiocy of the man that met his fate in the most undignified way. It was...

Well...it was over and done with.

Reign had squat down - musket over legs, arms over knees - as he listened to the briefing with interest, though his mind was as much on the members as the mission. Mike Bison had been, at least, a unifying front to work against. Now they would be all left to their own devices. Maybe even free of aggravation. Hopefully the runes would, at the very least, help them get things done. Together. Like one big damned runebound family.

Family. Pops.

"Are our accommodations and resupply...for reagents...provided?" Reign took a quick drag, smoke pouring out his mouth in wild wisps as he added, "Any animals also, for travel and hauling, once we're in the field?"

The deep-bell clarity in his tone was much more evident the longer he spoke. Fox and Glitterguy had asked much needed questions. The rest of his concerns were more logistic that pertinent, though none less considerable considerations.

"I imagine, traveling as a group, we may need a cohesive cover story."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:26, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

"There are few professions that would afford a cover to such a... wildly diverse crew.

I'm tempted to say 'pilgrims for Azathtoh' but they'd probably just call the guard on us.

And the ones that I can think of, we aren't really set up for. I can't summon enough monkeys to pull off a circus, and where would we find tents that big on such short notice?

Adventuring party' seems like the simplest and closest answer to the truth.

After all, as a priest of Azathtoh, it would be a most unrepresentative and unethical to lie in my position. He lied.

Qarley was fascinated that Hil completely ignored her kiss, so she stuck her tongue in his eyeball to check if that could generate a response.

“I’ve got an idea!!! We should call ourselves the suicide party!!!”

Then she climbed out of hil’s big strong ignorant arms and went over to Kholt to converse with the goblin. “Boom fire fire?”
This message was last edited by the player at 16:23, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

Aggitated about something the goblin grumbles and stares at Hal "Your not playing!" What? He then stands behind Marcia and pokes her arm with the odd contration "Tag! Your it!" Like a crazed kid he scrambles behind Naeva and grins going to gently pat the cat. He hears Reign and he tilts his head "Horses bad! No no no. Dogs? No. Turtles!" Its just a blur of emotion coming from him.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:03, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

"Aggggh! Don't do that. At least until the thirddate. Do you have any idea where my eye has been?"

He sputtered and tried not to drop her. Hil was a lot of things, he wasn't particularly strong, and Harley was (ooc:I'm guessing) armored.

After a moment he went back to his usual smiling self.

"Sorry, for not giving you proper attention. That wasn't very polite of me. I just sort of blanked out there about you."

Hil reflected that there were some disadvantages to being a priest to an insane idiot god who exemplified power and chaos. Hallucinations and madness being prominent.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:18, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

Sorin watched the two clearly unhinged ones with caution, making a note to keep them both in sight whenever possible. When Reign started tossing out ideas for a cover story, he scratched his head in thought for a moment before chiming in. "What if we don't travel as one big group? Glitterdale's a baker, he can stick with a couple others who'll pose as bodyguards. Same thing with Hil. It's dangerous on the roads for a lone priest and a baker, after all. All kinds of bandits and beasts."

Marcia watches the more mentally unhinged members of the group with a wary stoicism. There was nothing she could accomplish by engaging with them, so she didn't. "A healer's kit please?"  She requests when the Sgt asks about supplies.

She makes an effort to stay still and let Kholt tag her, but she can't hide a flinch.  "Sorry friend, 'm too slow today." she rasps. She rummages in the pockets for a piece of chalk as long as her finger.  She snaps the chalk in half and offers it to him.  It's pink-tinged. "Here. Let's ask for a goat cart, you need not ride a horse." She touches her throat, with a wince.

In some ways, Marcia is the easiest to hide. Another servant, assistant, or stable-girl is hardly outstanding a port city. "Splitting up, less attention. Stagger arrival. Can run messages between groups." She manages, choosing her words carefully.

“Oooops! Sorry to interrupt but there will be no disguising me. I only like to wear my own skin, thanks. Why the heck are you all worried about sneaking in when the church and state is the ones asking us to do the dirty deeds done dirt cheap??? Am I the only one with half a brain here???? Think!”

She ran up to Hil and punched him in the shoulder and winked.

Then she tagged Kholt and went and hid behind Cael.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:43, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

A muscle under Sorin's eye twitched for half a second before he sighed and looked over to Qarley. "A few reasons. First, as far as the state is concerned, we're low life scum rotting in prison. Second, we're being asked to do under the table wetwork, which nobody with a whole brain will admit to commissioning. Third, just because our orders come from the top or near enough, that doesn't mean every Tom, Dick and Harry in a guard uniform is going to know that we aren't a bunch of escaped convicts. Last, and following that point, we're deniable assets now. We get caught and we'll be hung out to dry. You follow?"

Eyes open wide, he grins as he takes the pink chalk "I like you!" He puts the chalk into his pack. The goblin jumps as he is tagged and grumbles "No play fair!" He grumbles and tilts his head "Stuff and things! Stuff and things!" He moves around, dragging his backpack around "Me do it. Quick quick." Kholt walks back to Marcia "Goat? Ride a goat?" He sits down "No brain! Captain Kiss-Ass!" The goblin grins "Think a lot. Yes yes. Want my brains?" His eyes squint towards Qarley  "Nope! Brain too big for you!" He grins again "Somewhere over the rainbow..." His attention focuses on Bannar "Tools? Lockpicks?" His head tilts to the side "I'm not deniable!" He walks up to Sorin and motions for him to get down to his level "I think she likes you!" He grints again, a big toothy one "Talk later? Yup!" He goes back to his backpack and hoists it up and goes to take Marcia's hand "Go now?"

"He called us Circus. Why not be circus? Have many clowns."

 Cael, contributed to the conversation, but remained still with arms crossed and Natasha laid out across his lap.

Hil noted that Qarley could probably hit quite hard if she wanted: it was a good thing he was wearing chain or he'd probably have winced.

"Well put, Fox.

If this gets really messy, the state wants to be able to say it was these evil, incredibly cunning and charming lowlife heretic criminals, all of which conveniently had their head explode.... at the same time."

Actually, that was a potential problem whether they completed the mission or not, but if they did a good job, they might get kept alive for some other future mission.

He really needed to figure out a way to bypass this explode thing. He'd probably get at least three of them to join the cult if he could figure out that. Once he got to the point where he could resurrect the dead, there was an easy fix for the rest of them. A disjunction perhaps? That was so far beyond him it was laughable.

At Cael's suggestion, he scratched his chin.
"I can't tell if you are serious or just doing a deadpan. Personally, I'd go with shady missionaries or shady mercenaries. You could also convert for real: the cult of Azathoth has an excellent medical plan.

If you all want to do the circus thing though, I'm game.

Whilst ensuring the safety of her cat from a goblin's grimy claws, and picking a few choice bits of brain from her robes of the rather annoying man (one down!), Naeva headed over to the headless corpse. She wasn't overly fond of the casual brutality, but seeing as the zoo she was currently in had some dangerous animals, it was good they could be kept in line. Unfortunately, she was currently still considered one of said animals. How dreadful.

"You don't mind if I use this, do you? It's best used fresh."

Seeing that in the field she would need some protection and barring objection from her jailor, she got to work. A simple paintbrush was produced and dipped in the rapidly expanding pool of blood whilst she held her cat in the other. She glared at the goblin.

"Don't touch my cat. And don't disturb the circle, unless you want your soul to make a visit to the abyss. A permanent visit."
Then she realized what she was talking to, and she sighed.
"You'd be dead. Very dead. In a bad way. Ok? Shoo."

With regular blood dippings she continued painting the circle around the corpse. An easy task. Some summoners bothered with elaborate patterns of protection and warding, but one didn't need to if one had a pre-arranged bargain with a demon.

She coughed gently to clear her throat. She stroked her cat and looked into its eyes. It looked back, knowing its time had come to fulfill the role of felinekind; to bring demons to this world. Then Naeva spoke the unwords. Her tongue split as she did so and the taste of blood filled her mouth.
"Echh-Na, V'sssthal kmachtåsd æpejal, Nâthadëde, Chernabog!"

Reality twisted. With a groan the sight of the circle's contents twisted as if looking through melting glass. The sound of snapping boned preceded the headless corpse juddering as its flesh melted. Then it began to realign and grow. A new head sickeningly grew from it and bone and muscle realigned and grew. The stench of sulfur filled the room, and black smoke began filling the circle. Moments later, the summoning ended. From the smoke, a demon of smoke and fire emerged..

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
http://christendtimeministries.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/z192129.jpg

---

Its muscle rippled under its fur as it paced lethally, regarding the world once more through a mortal's perspective. Its eyes glowed with an inner light as if its center was a burning forge. Claws raked the ground, and the sense of wrongness that just permeated the room echoed from with in it. It looked hungrily at the mortals present, eager to devour not just flesh, but souls. Then it rounded on Naeva, who was back to petting he cat.

"I return and our deal continues, mortal." It grinned ferally. "I see you chose the cat again. Who can I devour next?"

Naeva looked undisturbed, with cat in hand. She retrieved a hankerchief and dabbed the corners of her mouth free of blood. Her lack of panic at seeing a head explode suddenly was put in a different light. She replied rather matter-of-factly.
"All in good time, Chernabog. For now protect me. I am to travel with this uh... collection of distinct individuals. They are not to be trusted, but not to be harmed either unless proof of intent of harm to me is found. So you are bound."

"So I am bound." The demon grumbled. "Who else can I feast upon?"

"None at the moment. Your last feast is what landed me in this predicament you know?"
It knew.
"It was glorious. I love the screams of the children. Their pitch of voice goes ever so high as you tear their flesh, and the wailing of the adults is like a balm.."
"Yes yes, no need to go into every detail. They might decide to execute me after all." Naeva became aware of the others.
"He was unattended a few minutes. But he's quite safe now, I assure you!"
She didn't sound all that convincing.

Chernabog smiled. Cats shouldn't smile.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:37, Sun 25 Apr 2021.

To think the goblin had seen it all. Now a demon, a cat and a witch? His entire body tensed up, hand slightly held towards Marcia. His normally smiling demenor vanished. The large eyes watch what just unfolded. Another person he doesn't like. And the cat. Well the cat he's afraid of. Dogs. Horses. Captain Kiss-Ass. Bannar. Of course being a goblin anything bigger is a threat. But the witch? His entire body locks up, the look of fright over his face. That little kid he portrays, lost within. But hearing the screams of children is what hits the most for some hidden reason. Why does Banner need even him? Everyone seems powerful.

But Kholt is just a lonely goblin, wanting a friend maybe.

Fire. Boom. Death. Decay. Prison. He tries to remember his past but its lost to him. Trying to forget and succeding. But remembering could help. Or hinder him. So confusing. Lost.

Stepping back, his moves his hand away from Marcia and grips the odd contraption in his arm until he hits a wall. Slowly he stares at what just happened and when its all over he doesn't move. Doesn't breath apparently. Just locked on Naeva.

And the damn cat.

The goblin doesn't realize he had pissed himself as soon and it ended. And he doesn't talk. Just seems lost. Vacant. He slowly starts to rock, holding the odd arm thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:34, Sun 25 Apr 2021.

Everything was starting to get out of hand. It was time to reign it it.

"Enough! Go together or go separately, I doubt you'll be noticed either way unless you pull stunts like these to draw attention to yourselves. Finish your preparations and get going. I don't want to have to kill two of you in one day."

Hil took a few glimpses at the pentagram, but even he stayed a very safe, respectable business. Azathoth would devour all souls eventually, but he had no desire to spend the next few aeons in any of the hells.

Hil spoke a few words in Abyssal and gave some brief applause once the ritual was concluded.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Ohhh, a demonic pact! I haven't seen one of those before. Thank you for the most educational show!

---

He switched back to common.


"I suppose we'd better vacate then. I've already packed my favorite teas and my best kettle. I'll try and remember more healing for the rest of you when I prepare my holy invocations tomorrow.

And if any of you are actually undead like our fallen beloved captain, please let me know in advance. I'd hate to hurt you, accidentally."


A grin and slight pause added weight to that last comma.

It was a pity the Captain had died. He'd invited him to channel Azathoths power into him to heal him, which would have been worth a good laugh at least.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:55, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

Marcia's eyes went wide at the emergence of the demon. She croaked something that might have sounded like short prayer or plea, but she interposed herself smoothly between Kholt and the demon. Until now she had been shuffling and hunched, but when it came to protecting someone -- she moved smooth and quick like oil in a hot pan. Her hand dropped to her sword when the creature started to reminisce over eating people. She hadn't the least idea what is was -- but eating people and hurting children was something she would not let it do.

She glanced towards the Sergeant. She eased back into a defensive position when he seemed..confident that the horrible creature was not a threat right now.

Marcia crouches down, and draws a flower on the stone next to the goblin. Her raspy voice is gentle. "softly, Kholt.." She hesitates to pat him.  Not everyone likes being touched.  "We clean up, pack, and go."

"Reign, you want to travel together? Fox?" She asks with a rasp. Both of them seemed sane, rational, and unlikely to hurt her or Kholt for fun.

Sorin had at first watched Naeva with interest, recognizing a conjuring circle for what it was. His interest was quickly replaced with concern at the lack of safety measures, and transmuted even more swiftly into a look of horror as he saw the... thing she was calling. He backed away as far as the space would allow with his hand gripping his sword so hard his knuckles began to whiten, mentally adding a third crazy one to look out for.

He didn't take his eyes off the beast, not for a second, but he answered Marcia quickly. "Yeah, I'm in. Ready to go whenever you two are."

Tears begin to flow down the goblins visage. He doesn't react immediatly but when his head is pat, he blinks and looks at Marcia "Kholt scared. Bad kitty. Bad bad." Biting his oversized maw, he seems to focus now. Nodding his head he gets his backpack, watching Naeva again. He tugs the pack and gets it onto his back after getting help from Marcia but it looks very well awkward and odd. The goblin goes back to the odd drawing of the flower and puts his hand on it "Like Kholt? Go now. Boom boom later." He holds his clawed hand towards her, eyes peeled on Naeva and her cat and he attempts to keep as much distance from her as possible "Not crazy. Smart! Very smart!" His body is still very tense. He looks like he's ready to bolt away but keeps Marcia between him and the strange Naeva.

Reign was waiting on an answer to his questions when he noticed Naeva's ritual. He had been raised as a descendant of demon killers, monster hunters, and defenders of divine nobility. To add, he'd spent his life traveling the planes, battling and evading horrors to simply run from the calling of death. The martial musketeer knew a demon summoning when he saw one. Granted most anyone could feel the wrongness of it. What else would anyone have business doing drawing a circle using corpse blood?

Certainly not still life painting.

By the time the hellion was hailed, Reign had displaced himself a distance away. A frown marred his otherwise cold face, a cold accompanied by a literal chill newly infused into his body. A thin layer of frost formed about his neck and along his locs as he took another drag. He was, rather obviously, displeased at the demon's presence. Even a devil would have been more palatable.

There were enough demonic delinquents to deal with. They didn't need a literal one.

By whatever means necessary, huh? It did speak to their country's desperation; the level of depravity his fellow inmates consisted of made him really wonder if he would be alive on this plane much longer. The House of Smiting Flame had certainly fulfilled their wish, sending him and his pops into what was amounting to a literal hell. Neither one of them were saints, but they didn't deserve this treatment as a desire to live.

"Reign, you want to travel together? Fox?"

Reign turned his scowling mien towards Sia, made eyes with Fox, looked towards Kholt with their pleading hand. He exhaled a cloud in gratitude. She had extended an invitation to travel with members of the group that were less prone to...a complete lack of restraints. They'd also been the few he'd interacted with prior to this meeting. While he didn't expect they had much control in choosing who they would work with, he would take any advantage of control that he could.

After Fox answered, Reign followed with, "Sounds like a plan."

Reign punctuated the righteous ring in his voice by chucking the last nub of cigar on to the floor."I imagine Kholt may as well come along too." He snuffed it out under foot, the comment he made just as casual. "Seems he's fond of you," he said to Sia. Unlike some of the others, Reign always referred to the goblin by name. Something told him there was more intelligence to be found behind their chaotic tendencies.

"I am ready to depart." Reign flourished his musket in a spin, sliding it into a long holster at his hip like a sword in its sheath. "It may behoove us to establish a place for accommodations. I'm sure we can discuss more along the way." He reached down to his other hip, pulling off the wide-brim black hat and placing it on his head, at a tilt, as a king adjusting their crown.

"Four seems more than enough for a first scouting foray." Reign moved closer to Sia, picking up the pack that he left by the wall. Nearly empty. With a jerk of his chin to Fox, and a nod to Kholt, he muttered, "I imagine no use dallying any longer with demons..."

And should the time come, Naeva...

Reign vowed to himself. He was the Sixth One, destined to be cast into the positive plane, his life recycled for the good of the Holy Hunt. Despite escaping his fate, there were tenets he still held dear. Despite living in hell, some sacraments were simply a part of who he was.

...I will not hesitate to kill you.

Glitterdale turns to Reign and Fox.
If it is alright with you make that five.  I am happy to be a traveling cook.  I also have an idea about the scarecrows and how to get more information about who are behind them.  But stealth and sub-diffuse will be needed.  That is why we need them  cloaks.  Oh and just in case you did not know.  Like all good cooks.  I am a healer as well.

He turns to Naeva.
I seem it before girl.  Some of my kind have studied what you do in depth.
If I where you I would choose to get your aid from somewhere else.  But I could make an easy wager my words will mean nothing even when it ends they way it always does.
The look on the elf face is one of deep sadness.
He then says something in elvish to himself.

Lastly he turns to Qarley Huinn.
Qarley girl.  You ever wanted to marry a prince.  Word down my end of the prison is he has a list of good time girls from this country to wed and your on the list.  I think you and your group should go and find your fun husband too be.  Also word has it he is into some really kicky stuff.  Your type of stuff.  That why he gone missing where he went missing.  So get him girl, go get your man!
The elf's face has a smirk on it now.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Sun 25 Apr 2021.

"Aye." Marcia said softly. A nod to Reign and Fox and taking Kholt's hand with a gentle squeeze that seemed to answer all their questions in one word. Her expressions were minimal --she was to heart-worn for any kind of enthusiasm -- but the easing of her shoulders and faintest twitch of a smile suggested that she was glad of their company and Kholt's impulsive friendship.

She shouldered her own pack without letting go of Kholt's hand. "I'll ready horses, find us in stables." Her voice cracked, but she ignored it.  Reign nor Fox didn't seem like that they'd care. She trusted them to figure out the details from the Sergeant while she expedited their journey.

If no one stops her, Marcia will lead Kholt towards the stables. This was enough meeting new people for now.

Following the woman, the goblin in turn finds a decent place to well change. He grumbles and goes back to take the hand, looking better then he did before but he's still a goblin. All grimy and whatnot but least he's decent enough. He looks behind, fearful that the cat lady is following behind them and he winces. Occasionally, he looks up at Marcia with a odd look as if puzzled by her. No one really backed him and she had no reason but there she is. And she seemed to defend him but why? He's just a goblin! A light squeeze to her hand as he follows at her side "Kholt smart." He doesn't tell anyone in specific as he lumbers along. He pulls out the pink chalk "Why give this to Kholt? I like it." Its so small but he seems to enjoy it. He looks at the others-Reign and Fox. Maybe Glitter if he's around. A strange look, head tilting as if studying them and he points at Reign "Can I have one?"

In reply to Marcia Winterwood (msg # 85):

(We can change scenes whenever you guys want, just let me know.)

Marcia is silently patient as Kholt sorts himself out. She doesn't seem to mind about the grime, as long as the grime won't give in an infection or wound.

"Aye." She agrees to Kholt's assertion of being smart as though he was telling her the sun was shining. "Makes fine circles," she adds after a moment. She is quiet for a long time as she thinks of a good answer to an important question. And to give her throat a rest. "Should be kind if you can. Don't let scared make you mean." She managed after a long, quiet couple minutes. There was more to that, but that's the best she could manage for now. She's need her chalk and a slate in order to give him a better answer.

Marcia manages to find the stables and gets 3 palfreys ready with a smooth ease of long practice. She is quiet, and visibly relaxes to be around horses and outside. "Take a rest if ye can."  She advises Kholt, indicating some clean hay. She takes care to make sure the saddles fit, the horses are brushed out and everyone will be comfortable. Her interaction with the stable master involves as few words as possible, which seems to suit both of them. Her willing to help get a irritated bull back in his pen, helps produce out some extra liniment (for horses or human unused to a saddle), soap, and extra chalk for Kholt.

A hurried scrub under the pump makes her pinker -- even if quiet a bit of hair comes out with her brushing, at least it's clean and tied back in a scrap of leather.

She manage to indicate the goblin and try to get a suitable mount for him.  "Kholt, if something happens..goat maybe not safe. Maybe kicked. Ride behind me or risk goat?"

She was puzzled about his pointing at Reign, and asking if he can have him. You can't have a person. "Don't understand."

If it is alright with you make that five. I am happy to be a traveling cook.

Reign listened to Glidderdale's proposition, holding his golden gaze on them before moving to the floor in thought. A good cook was never a bad role to fill. Maybe they didn't fill their cookies with flesh. Compared to the company oof the demon summoner, it was a chance Reign was glad to take. "Yeah. Fine by me." He glanced to Fox without the expectation of rejection.

Wordlessly, Reign turned to walk away. He'd see if he could squeeze in one last visit...

"Can I have one?"

Reign paused, the light in his eye twinkling, causing the frown to fade into the shadow of his dark-steel skin. He knew what Kholt was asking for. Sure as shit wasn't his gun. He slipped a long, thin cigar from out of a bandoleer pocket.

"You know they're bad for your health," he warned. It didn't stop him from handing it to them before he continued on down the hall. Maybe pops would be conscious this time.

The demon sniffed the air, and looked at Reign. Even as its mouth slavered, its daemonic grin widened. Naeva paid Chernabog's antics no heed and answered Glitterdale instead.
"Other aid? You mean from someone like you?"
Her raised eyebrows told him what she thought of that idea..

"Come Chernabog, let's see what our good employers can round up in the ways of transportation so we can look at some scarecrows."
She glanced at him.
"And dim your fire, would you? No need to alert the locals."

The demon Chernabog did as he was bid, his inner fire dimming, until he appeared merely as an enormous feline. It still would raise eyebrows, but folk wouldn't be screaming nearly as much.

"You demand so much, delicious flower. But I am yet unrewarded."

Its voice still carried all the menace of the nine hells, but Naeva was unperturbed. She anwered with calm grace.

"Every second you spend on this world is your reward, Chernabog. Don't think I don't know how bored you are with your immortal existence in the abyss. Contain your hunger a bit longer. Strife lies ahead, and with it the things you crave."

The giant black feline mellowed and followed after Naeva, its every movement a ripple of finely toned muscle under fur.

Glitterdale turns back to Naeva just before heading out to the horses.
I have found aid from another always come at a price.  Sometimes it is just a simple kiss or kind word that will do.  Other times it's things you most fear or does most damage to you.  The line between Master and Slave is often a lot thinner than you think.  The switch over will happen too quickly that nobody is ever safe.
Then Glitterdale picks a cookie out of his pouch and looks at it.
As for aid from me.  Never underestimate the power of a good hot meal and a refreshing hot drink.  And aid from me usually comes at a very low price.  The prices in my shop where always reasonable.  Something I prided myself on.

At that the elf heads to the stables.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:40, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

"Circles and triangles add up." Is he nuts? He bites his lip and looks around the stables for a suitable mount. Several times he comes across massive horses-well to him that is. Kholt growls and steps away as one of the horses tilts its head and looks at him as its eating hay. Upon occasion the goblin holds his hand up, not the one with the bombchucker towards Winter as if asking for a cookie "Please?" A goofy grin. He keeps looking around curiously and stops at the hay as Marcia thinks he should relax "No relax. Scared not mean. Kholt can be mean." He lets out a loud growling sound trying to sound menacing and he takes the cigar and puts it into the pocket with the chalk, tapping it lightly "Goat kicks me I kick back...." He grins evilly, a odd side of Kholt few have seen "With fire. Boom boom boom."

Glitterdale hands Winterwood the cookie he just pulled out of his pouch.
I think someone may need this.
He smiles down at the goblin.
Then he looks at the horses.
Well it is a long time since I been on a horse.  Old Banner was a boy back them.  It going to take some time to get the rust off these bones.

He tried very carefully to get up on the horse and sits waiting for the others.

Marcia flinched at the sight of a bomb chucker, touching wood and making a holy sign with her hand to avert harm. "Don't tease me about a stable fire. A stable fire is a great sorrow. Better to perish rather than let a horse burn." Her voice cracks, in part from rough use and part from unhappiness at the thought of such tragedy. "Come away and leave such mean thoughts. There is too much mean already. Pack your goat's saddle bags in the yard."  She shoos him outside to the stable yard -- as far as she can from anything combustable.

Marcia stifled a sigh at the news that Glitterdale was not experienced on a horse. It was optimistic to hope that everyone was an experienced rider. Not that she would ordinarily mind, but it was a complication on her plan: Get Away From Crazy People.  But it was what it was - no use getting excited, or upset. No of them could have planned for...their future comrades. Marcia might invent telecommuting on the spot.

"You want me to lead the horse?" She offers for Glitterdale.

She hands over the cookie to Kholt without hesitation.  She isn't in the mood for cookies, too tense.

The goblin grumbles and takes the cookiee. Oddly he puts it into the pouch with the pink chalk and cigar. Odd. "Not stable nope nope. Burn burn burn. Boom!" He doesn't really help out with Marcia and when he realized she was upset, he frowns and lowers his head "You no like Kholt." He sighs and looks around for his mount. He moves towards it and goes to gently pat its head "Goat! I got a goat!" The goblin takes the reigns "Go now?" He tries to move the goat along as he walks along side of it and attempts to lead it out with one hand on his bombchucker and the other on the reigns.

"You're all ready."

Reign spoke to no one in particular as he waltzed into the stables. The buckler on his arm swayed hard as he approached a readied horse. Looks like she knows what she's doing, Reign thinks, giving the creature some strokes across their mane. He remembered riding more than horses as he and Pops pranced between planes. Even then it wasn't too often they commanded another beast beneath them. Their were other ways to travel besides walking, besides riding. Certainly not as quick but...

Horses had a way of loving him or hating him. They seemed to sense his heritage in different ways. The thought reminded Reign to attune to the air. A gentle breeze lapped at his locs. His body seemed to effervesce. Hopefully the horse would feel him as less of a burden on their back.  He was an amateur rider at best.

He looped his pack from off his shoulders. Before putting his things in the saddlebag he paused and said, "Thanks." He looked to Sia, offering a grateful jerk of his chin, then quickly found himself up on the saddle.

He looked to Kholt, rambling and pulling the goat.

He looked to Glitterdale, no doubt offering him a cookie.

He sighed, pulling his goggles over his eyes and thought, The things I do for love.

If Glitterdale did offer him a cookie, this time, he'd take it.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Glitterdale answer Winterwood.
I should be alright.  They let me do a little archery practice now and again.  So my natural skills should be enough.  Just don't ask me to jump any big fences yet.

He turns to Reign.  The two of them nod.  No words need to be said.  Glitterdale hands him a cookie.

A small green figure skitters down a wooden support beam from the rafters, his head lifting towards the group as he clings like an oversized gecko. "Greb has waited. Banner said wait with smelly horses. Greb waited. Greb sailor, not rider. But if Greb can stay steady on a ship,  balancing on horse should be no problem. Greb can ride double. Goblinses don't weigh much." The goblin has a tail not unlike a monkey. He is wearing leather armor and has a number of daggers and a pair of saps around his waist.

The goblin turns as he hears a different person speaking. He tilts his head as he looks up from behind the goat. Kholt's eyes narrow. Another goblin? And this one has a tail. Lovely. Kholt grips his chucker and puts the reigns over a small post. His body tenses up and then he slips into some shadows if any nearbye. Looks like someone is getting stalked. If he knows goblins which he does....this won't end well.

Glitterdale turns to the others.
I think one goblin per group is enough otherwise we draw to much attention to your group.  Also we need to split the groups a bit more even.  I would suggest Greb joins the other group.
He smiles at Greb.  Takes out two cookies.
Two cookies and you wait for Qarley Huinn and Hil Diduem.  Join them and stay with them.  Two more cookies at the end of the mission if you do what I ask.
Holding the cookies height enough that the goblin could not grab them and waits for him to agree or not.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Greb leaps from his perch and snatches the cookies as he flips past Glitterdale. The rush of movement obscures his landing, and no one spots him as he stands hidden in the shadows (Stealth 36). A whispered voice says "Greb does what Banner says. But not parading more goblins is smart. Greb will wait unless Banner say no."

Glitterdale smiles.
It is alright Greb.  Banner has said the group can split into two and we can choose which group we are in.  You have got your cookies so just wait for Qarley Huinn or SGT Banner.  You will be fine.

The horses Marcia got for the group looked like experienced palfreys that wouldn't spook in traffic on a major road or city. Even the goat looked like it had been the designated driver for quite a few very drunk halflings. Did she even pack everyone a lunch too?  Yes. She is just that good.  (Hopefully everyone likes apples.)

Marcia gives Reign a squire's bow and checks her girth before mounting her own horse. Almost as surprising as the possibility that she has a sense of humor is the thoughtless grace that moves her from ground to the saddle.

She gives them all a look, even Fox who hurries to join them. "Ready?" She croaks, barely looking for an answer before her horse starts heading for the gate.

Sorin followed quietly along, not offering much more than the occasional grunt or gesture to the conversation as he flipped through his things, secured the straps on his armor, and more importantly, scoured his spellbook, preparing for the journey ahead.

When they had all entered the stable, he looked up at his horse and climbed up slowly, with the air of someone who's never really rode much before. "Lead the way," he said to Marcia as he attempted to stir his horse into movement by copying her.

Greb tries one of the cookies. He takes a few bites and says "not bad. Could use a little nutmeg to offset the sugar, though." He climbs back up to his rafter perch to avoid being stepped on. Sometimes not being noticed was dangerous.

 The oceanfront trading city of Kingsport is a sprawling metropolis rivaled only by the Capital in size. Near the docks rests the Elder Beerman, a popular tavern arranged to be the meeting place for the group during the briefing. It was difficult not to noticed the many scarecrows surrounding the town, almost in formation and often armed. They look almost like a resting army awaiting orders.

Qarley was busy barking orders at the waiters and waitresses, telling them how to have better posture when carrying large platters of drinks or food.

“You should be able to balance it all on two fingers and a thumb, keeping your ring and pinky finger available in case you need to poke someone’s eye out. Got it?”

When she sees the rest of you she waves, “oh hiya gang! How did the super secret disguises go???”

“oh hiya gang! How did the super secret disguises go???”

Reign snickered, drinking his watered down mead like a suckling babe. He needed his senses sharp, but there was no way he would completely abstain from alcohol. It'd been too long.

"They were...super secret." Having rode out with the first group, Reign had long been settled in. They'd already gotten their rooms and freshened up by the time Reign heard Qarley's voice below. She was certainly, and unfortunately, hard to miss. Still, it was supposed to be a meeting spot, so he had picked a table right beside Qarley's own. If she was going to be so vociferous anyway, he'd save his ears.

"But...friendly advice..." Reign took another swig, gently waving away another waitress. No need for a refill, "You may want to get a room...before they run out..."

Though Reign would not be surprised if they slept in the rafters.

He would wait for the second group to file in, then the first group to come out of their rooms before they started their meeting. Not that he was the leader or anything. It had just been part of the plan. He'd stick too it as best he could. It was the most sure way he could get his pops out.

Before they go to the tavern Marcia asks each of the chosen group to meet her somewhere innocuous, like one of the outdoor squares. Whenever whomever was going to arrive had arrived, she cleared her throat. "Those fools will be stupid, crazy. Maybe hurt someone. Should only one of us go to the meeting? I trust you to decide on my behalf." She pauses, and gestures to herself. "I think I would be a liability."

“Why’s that Reign??? You ain’t sharing yours?”

She considered for a moment to do that thing where she would show you that she was thinking of that last thing the last person said but she wasn’t stupid: she would never reveal her thoughts to you.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:49, Sat 01 May 2021.

The goblin rides up upon his goat steed and looking all proud outside. He gets off his goat and walks over to Marcia to met her in secret. He pushes on the reigns and finds a nice spot for it with a tree he tries it around and sits down and sees Qarley following Reign into the tavern some time before but he stays outside for some time."Kholt thinks Qarley likes Reign. And Hil. Bad idea." He looks at Marcia "You go, I go. Yup yup. Don't like them, nope. I got a secret." He motions for Marcia to get closer to him.

As Glitterdale moves to sit, a fast-moving shadow slithers atop his chair and a small green arm holds a knife to his throat. In a menacing voice he hears "baker man played nasty trick on Greb. 'Greb stay in stables, wait for others.' " He spits to the side and continues "baker man thinks Greb stays away, Banner not see him, and blows Greb up? One less goblin, no one will care? Greb knows better than to trust smooth-talking elf. Greb followed, saw you meeting others here. But Greb not cut your throat, not yet. Only if Banner says you too much trouble to stay alive. Goblins have another reason to not trust elfs. You live.....for now." The knife is pulled away and Greb climbs up into the rafters, hanging by his tail as he listens.

Marcia obligingly bent down to hear Kholt's secret. She smelled of soap and little bit of dread horses, as usual.

PM

Sorin had kept quiet for the most part on the trip, though he had taken the time to stop and do a quick magical test on the scarecrows.

He joined the others in the square before meeting the others, and he shrugged at Marcia's question. "No point in that, really. We have to work with them until they die or do something stupid to get their heads blown to bits like that moron, so avoiding them forever isn't possible. Just don't sleep where they can reach you and always keep them in sight and you'll be fine. Probably be smart to cozy up to the priest though, healing's not something to turn your nose up at in our new line of work."

OOC: My prepared spells are thus; Detect Magic, Flare, and Light for cantrips. Shield and Chill Touch for first level.

Casting detect magic and rolling K. Arcana on the scarecrows outside town assuming nobody stops me. If Spellcraft is more appropriate, the modifier is the same. Result of 11.

Marcia looks Kholt solemnly in the eyes, "I promise." She says softly, the words sound like an invocation that locks the secret away in Marcia's heart. She almost reverently puts the potion in her pocket.

She whispers to Kholt, and the quieter the words the less they seem to hurt her throat.

Marcia gets to her feet and acknowledges the truth of Sorin's words with a sigh. "The priest seems alright, but the rest are drunk on the fear and pain of others. It's like working with rabid creatures." She tugs at her short pony tail. "I trust your reading of their caprice, but not mine. Play threat and actual threat looks the same to me. I don't want to cause more trouble -- will you say the word if you think I ought to act?  I'll be ready to step between you or Kholt so you can get your spells and bombs fired."

Sorin shook his head before answering. "Don't trust the priest further than you can throw him, he had to have done something worth an execution to get put in this deal. As for the other one, problem is she's crazy. No way to know what she'll do next, but none of them strike me as the type to make idle threats," he said as he began to make his way toward the tavern. "Speaking of crazy, let's get moving. I don't like having it unsupervised for too long, you never know what it'll do when you aren't paying attention."

"Not good but want to live. Kholt wants to leave. Check scarecrows." A shiver runs down his spine and he crosses his arms "All crazy! Kholt's not. Sorin's not. Well don't think so. You'd tell me right? Marcia's isn't. Well hope she isn't. I like her." He puffs his chest out and grabs his gear, and slowly heads towards his goat "This is my goat!" Well everyone knows this "Where's the gun guy and baker?" He glances around.

"Aye." Marcia agreed grimly, walking beside Fox and Kholt. She felt better knowing the team's thoughts on this situation, even if it was as grim as hers. Fox was more worldly than her, and she valued his opinion.

She was not someone who saw the point in bluster herself. It was not the confident hound or wolf that barked or threatened. But an insecure or careless person could turn a safe situation bad and kill good people nonetheless.

"Stay by me, if you can." Her soft words were almost a gruff benediction to be careful and a promise that she would guard you the best she could.

She sighed, "Not bad idea to have Kholt and Glitterdale keep checking the scarecrows. Though Glitterdale's soft words have a way of keeping heads on shoulders...mostly. I don't know where Glitterdale is. He wanted baking supplies, tea." Being protective of Kholt (not that he needed it) she was happier with him farther from the maniacs.

She smiles faintly, and assures Kholt "not crazy."

"Kholt will defend you with my life! Or well whats left of it. I think." A wry grin forms on his face. He holds his hand up to salute and gets onto his goat "Thought so!" He pets the goat, holding the reigns with one hand and his bombchucker with the other.

Glitterdale packs his items.  He lets Sorin Vulca cast his spells on scarecrows but makes it clear he should do so with little show.  He makes a mental note where they are but does not say much.

When he gets to the tavern he gets himself a room.  Then talks to the inn keeper and goes of to finding a few items from the food shops.

He goes to meet up with Marica.  Turning to Marcia Winterwood.  Keeping the others from getting us all killed is going to be our biggest quest.  I would like us to work on the scarecrows but we must not look like we taking to much interest in them.  I have a plan but we need to survive this evening and then we will see.  I suggest our group meet up early in morning to discuss our next move on adventuring trail.
Then adding.
Oh and I will leave Reign to deal with the other group.  I have something I wish to do this evening.

As for what Grab does Glitterdale says nothing and does not move.  Taking no action or making no reaction.

Marcia looks slightly relieved to see Glitterdale unmurdered. She wasn't particularly emotive, so this was a pretty thrilled for on her limited range of self-expression. A very stoic mother hen. "Need backup?" She rasps at the news that Glitterdale has another errand.

"No."

Reign cocks an eyebrow, looking at Qarley. Looking into Qarley.

Then he looks away, saying as he brings his drink to his lips, "I'm not in a sharing mood."

Reign stayed quiet for a little while, at first resuming his flipping through the pages of his father's memoirs. Some stray thought caught him only a page in, and he returned his journal to his belt-bound bookstrap. "Qarley...humor me." His voice rang low as he removed a cigar along with a splice of thin-cut cedar from the inside of his jacket.

"Our task, to find a prince...to see some...scarecrows." Reign lights his cedar piece from the candle on his table, using the flame to spark his stogie. "Our lives, forfeit. Our bargains...well...to each their own." He spoke around puffing his cigar to red embers, then took a full draw of smoke. "What is your motivation? Do you...want...to use discretion? Is this a challenge of personal fulfillment?" His rosegold halo flickered overhead for a breath. "This truly seems like a game to you...

"But I've been wrong before. Albeit rarely."

He looks to Greb, the only other goblin he's had the experience off making an acquaintance with. "And you...are you one who is...driven by the need for freedom or an insatiable curiosity? Also, I'm sorry...don't believe I've caught your name..."

Greb bows from his perch. "Greb Gutslicer is my name. But I'm not formal about it. Greb is fine. What motivates me? Freedom and revenge. I was captured and sold as a alave at a very young age. When I was old enough, I escaped my bonds and thought I was free at last. When I was trying to sail to a new port and a new life, my ship was taken by pirates and I was offered a choice. I chose life, but it meant another form of servitude. Now, having tasted freedom I yearn for it again. And if I can avenge myself along the way, that's a plus in my ledger." The goblin is speaking fluent Common, not the broken form he had been using before.

She motioned for Reign to either share or give her a cigar as well, then sat back and relaxed with her boys! “I’d ask you what’s at stake for you but I think I know.”

Ever since she met these fine folks she had the feeling that she could read their thoughts. Which meant they could read hers, probably. So she would have to compensate by thinking non-thoughts.

“So discretion? No. But we better use protection.” Reign. Hil. Fox. Definitely not Cael, that guy would not be fun at all. She’d take either of the goblins before that would happen. “They don’t let me have conjugal visitors.”

She would give a false impression and it would steer everyone from the truth. Hopefully they didn’t know what she was, she didn’t glow when she puffed on a cig.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:22, Tue 04 May 2021.

"Gunny gone? Not good. Not good at all." The goblin stops riding and looks worried "You left him alone against all of them?" He climbs off his goat, pulls out his bombchucker and stares at Winter "Kholt says we don't leave anyone behind! Got that?" He's got guts which could probably get himself killed. But still he has them. His eyes narrow and he seems distraught "We got a mission even if I don't like it. Kholt thinks how can we get through it if fighting amongst ourselves? Bloody good for nothing Bannar..." Grumble grumble "Scarecrows or Gunny...." Kholt bites his lip. Is he becoming the morale compass? Oh for crying out louds!

Hil made his way in, fashionably late, having completed his invocations and pipe practice outside.

After all, he was a polite cultist.

As well he'd made a quick careful magical check of his runes. It hadn't taken him very long to realize he didn't have a hope in hell of removing the marks, even with the mark of Azatoth.

He sat down with nearly completely cooled breakfast. It was still wonderful after the prison food.

"Sorry, I'm late. I had some religious duties. At least I can heal one of you now if you get hurt. So, anyone else die since last night?

[dropping post in new thread]