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Post by moralhazard on Mar 15, 2019 22:28:13 GMT
Arioch's distrust of magical creatures leaves him wholly unable to discern anything helpful about the couatl's behavior or truthfulness.
Orin's long experience with magic is enough to tell her that the collar is likely hard to break or remove.
Hopebringer would permit Orin to appoach, holding politely still while she inspected the collar.
'The ringleader is a druid called Ivor.' Hopebringer said. 'He is an angry, vicious man. He has collared your Citrine,' Somehow she would manage to make clear that your there referred to Orin. 'There are five human left alive to work for him, plus two others, a man and a woman. He will not hesitate to use those under his control against you: a cockatrice and a satyr. There is a basilisk as well, recently arrived. I do not know how tight his hold is on it.'
A loud skree of defiance would echothrough the early evening, along with a ripping noise as a long slash appeared in the side of the tent. Hopebringer's head would swing over with the other two, lifting in surprise.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 15, 2019 22:57:13 GMT
"This Ivor"
Arioch said with a frown, not any more sure that he could trust the snake than before
"Is he a human? A half-orc? Vhat does he look like?"
He figured if he ran into the tent waving his sword around and asking who was Ivor, people would just start pointing at each other and accusing the nearest folk of being Ivor... Which would arguably be hilarious, but also end with everyone dead just to not take any chances. So he had a cocaktrice and a satyr under his command. Which was just fine with Arioch. Because he had no idea what a satyr was and only a vague understanding of a cocaktrice. He figured though, more monsters. The basilisk he had a better idea however, it was a creature that was supposedly able to petrify with it's gaze... Not good. He had no idea of whether it was that it worked when the creature looked at you, or when you looked at the creature.
Tough. It was frightening, but with that elf just near him he wasn't about to ask what the hell was a basilisk either way. And give her the pleasure? Absolutely not. How deadly could the creature be? Was it an ability? Or something that was always on? Probably an ability, it would make no sense for it to be always on. Maybe it was like the poison on a snake... Otherwise how did they even get their hands on it? What was the point? It was a scary thing to go with the prospect of maybe fighting a creature that was able to instantly kill things with it's gaze. He could turn back... or be like the elf and say that it was a tactical retreat, that it was being reckless and wait for the guards. Then, he thought about Pip crying. And about Thea. The first thought was filled with burning anger. The second one, had a tint of something else in between the brushes of courage within him. He wouldn't turn their back on them with that degenerate on the lose, basilisk or no basilisk.
And just about in that moment a loud noise, like that of a strange bird reached his ears. Also, that of a whip. The mental image was not any better. That was his cue. Arioch headed over to where the sound was coming from immediately. If it came from within a tent, he would not use the main entrance, he would cut it from the side or from the rear, whichever path was the shortest towards the sound.
"Let's just hope someone hasn't been getting tortured, or killed, vhile ve talked."
Said as he departed.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 18:38:09 GMT
Orin would purse her lips together as she looked at the collar, brushing her fingers across the strap lightly, not wanting to touch the gem in case it could detect tampering. It seemed like it was well made, and difficult to break, much less take off, thanks to the fact that it was tightened harshly against the serpentine couatl. Her eyes would flicker up to Hopebringer's as she picked up on the word choice, but let her keep talking to get more information out of her. Five humans, two others- a man and a woman- a cockatrice, a satyr and a basilisk. And Citrine now, too, though, speaking of Citrine?
The skree would catch Orin's attention at the same time, and the three of them would turn to face the tent as a long slash appeared in the side of it. The eladrin would remain quiet except for one word- "Citrine." Her green eyes traced the events unfolding down at the circus. Citrine was still alive. Citrine was still being, well, Citrine, and took captivity just about as well as she expected, having read some of the journals that the aarakocra had given her in her downtime. She knew that Citrine wouldn't resign herself, and she knew that she would need to find Citrine. She had to know if Citrine could detect what was in the vial around her neck.
Time was running out here in Faerun for Orin, but not to the extent that she needed to be reckless. No, she'd leave that to Citrine... and Arioch. "Again with the torture?" the eladrin would roll her eyes, not following Arioch immediately. Kids these days had no imagination, she would mentally declare as she shifted weight onto a foot, her armor moving with the grind of metal against metal. There were things so much worse than physical punishment. "I'll catch up," Orin waved him off, turning back to the couatl, her hand still on the collar.
"Hopebringer," using a name at the beginning of a request? How very fey of Orin. "I need to know as much as you can tell me about the collars? Is there a device that controls them? Is there-" the warlock would ponder for a moment, looking at the gem- "something that the druid uses? Do you know how to remove the collars? Like a key? Or maybe using a spell to break the gem would work?" She wanted to know more about how everything was being controlled. People that were in control that lost that control wound up panicking, and when that happened, they made exploitable mistakes. "I could try to shatter the gem, but I'm afraid it would hurt you as well," the eladrin would look on either side of the collar, the scales around Hopebringer's neck chafed and eroded with the stress of the strap wedged against her form.
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Post by moralhazard on Mar 16, 2019 18:57:05 GMT
' He is human,' There was an almost faintly pleased tone to Hopebringer's mental voice as she addressed Arioch. ‘ He wears a large red coat, and carries a whip with three arms with a gem in the handle. His mind is a dark place.’ To Hopebringer, that sounded like more than enough to identify him. Arioch took off down the hill, and Hopebringer watched him go, before swinging her head back to Orin. ‘ I do not think your Citrine fears torture,’ She remarked, somehow conveying that the thought was for Orin only. The couatl’s tongue flicked out to taste the air as Orin asked her questions. She shifted back and forth on the ground, more of her wings emerging from the bush, flexing slowly. ‘ While I was controlled, I had little ability to think. In truth – it has been some months since I could think clearly.’ The couatl paused again. ‘ In this last day, I have remembered the taste of freedom. I have tried to think on this, as I wish to be free of this… monstrosity. The druid has a gem which hangs on a cord around his neck. He tries to keep it secret, but I have seen it. I believe this is what links him to the collars. I do not know if the collar can be destroyed without the destruction of the one wearing it. I know I cannot remove my own – for I have tried. My captor has spelled me too strongly against it. Yet, we couatl have some skill in spell-breaking, and I have received no command not to free another. I wish only that I had thought to try it yesterday. It may be that I can free her, if not myself.’ Hopebringer’s head lowered. ‘ I wish you luck, Orin.’ Hopebringer fluffed out the frill around her neck. There was a long pause, before the couatl added, grudgingly, ‘ and luck to your companion as well.’
It would be difficult to tell where exactly the noises had come from – but there was no more than the usual movement outside the tent, and the huge rip that had just appeared in the tent was, well, suggestive. Unfortunately, there would seem to be only one access point: the main gate, directly before them, at the bottom of the hill, guarded by a man with a crossbow. The rest of the circus was ringed with a heavy fence, including the aforementioned tent. Worse still, there was no way to get down the hill out of his sight; the hill itself was bare, and the trees would only start further back. At least the vantage point from atop the hill would give Arioch a fairly good sense of what to expect down below. “You there!” The guard would yell at Arioch when he was about sixty feet away. He lifted a heavy crossbow, leveling it at the intruder. “Circus isn’t open today – turn around and go about your business!”
((There are two guys dressed like the guy at the entrance visible in the area outside the tent (indicated by the yellow xs), plus another guy wearing something different (green x)! You cannot see inside the tent. There is a sturdy fence around it which is not impossible to see through. Also, assume the map is laid out with north at the top, west on the left, etc.))
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 16, 2019 19:27:43 GMT
Arioch grunted at the man. A heavy crossbow? That was a coward's weapon. Right after poison.
"Look at me"
He said firmly, a tone that was summoned with ease given his current state of being. That was absolutely angry and murderous, barely held back by a thread of caution, which was about to be cut loose at any second. A certain expectation, bordering on anxiety was bubbling up. It wasn't a bad, fearful thing though fear was certainly an element in it. It was the expectation that preceded a great pleasure. He wasn't entirely sure if the pleasure was in killing, or in the thrill of the risk. It was a dark thing to be aware of.
"Do you know who I am?"
He asked, and despite the tone the question had been asked was a rather serious question, not a rethorical one.
"If you're not from Waterdeep, then I doubt you know"
Arioch sentenced, dryly, after which he said
"So let me be clear. If you take a shot, the thing that's going to be open today is you. In about ten seconds, give or take. I'm going to go in and have a vord vith Ivor. If the coin he pays you is vorth dying over, its up to you."
That was a fairer chance than he should have given any person in the employ of a man like Ivor. Granted he didn't know him nor his reasons at all, but frankly neither did he care. The existance of the collars and their intended targets was all he needed to know. It would take time before he reached the man with the crossbow, as he kept walking now towards him. That would be enough for the man to think about that.
Intimidation
XP3sJ7C01d20+31d20+3
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 19:43:02 GMT
"She does not, no," Orin would respond to the couatl, "but it doesn't mean she likes it. From what I know of her, she's very-" she would try to think of the right word to use. Several crossed her mind, but Orin settled on- "obstinate. When she chooses to be."
The eladrin would listen, smiling faintly as she turned from having her fingers on the collar to slowly brushing up above the irritated skills, moving carefully as to not break any kind of trust she may have gained. As Hopebringer spoke, mentally, Orin would think back on her own bondage. Every time Lady Susan was present, she changed, melted, listened, obeyed, but once free of her immediate presence, she would become herself. Even just one day from the Vistani caravan in Silverymoon, a place that she couldn't be detected due to the mystal that was there, Orin blossomed into more of the person she had been before her service to the Winter Court. She understood freedom more than she would ever be able to explain to anyone, and maybe that's why she was trying so desperately to find the one that could perceive the contents of the vial she held. Because it was either that, or eternal service to a a power she would never be able to escape. That's why she knew Citrine would rage and fight and wait for her, no matter how long it took- because she had to, or she risked losing Orin.
At least she hoped that Citrine understood that.
"Thank you," Orin would smile, aware that she had never introduced herself, bu assuming it was some level of the telepathy that Hopebringer was using. "And do not worry. Everyone shall be free once again. Wings such as Citrine's and yours are too beautiful to be clipped and caged." the eladrin would take a step back, bow slightly, and then turn toward the camp, looking to where Arioch had made it to, which was the border around the circus already. She would sigh, then start walking down the path to catch up before stopping for another moment. Maybe, while Arioch made his way through the front, she could make it around the back, or at least to the side? Stepping into the forest itself, the eladrin would move to the north of the circus, staying about ninety feet into the forest, trying to keep the trees between herself and the fence the best she could, but not necessarily hiding. If she was hiding and was caught, it could be immediately told that she was trying to sneak in. If she was walking and was caught, she could play that she got lost on her way back from somewhere else.
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Post by moralhazard on Mar 16, 2019 19:52:37 GMT
There was a very long, uncomfortable pause as the thug stared at Arioch. He swallowed, once, adam’s apple bobbing beneath a heavy shadow of neck hair. After a moment, slowly, he lowered the crossbow, glancing back over his shoulder into the circus. “False alarm!” He called. “I’m – I’m going to take a leak!” Slowly, the thug would step forward and move slightly off to his left, standing outside the fence. He would look down and away from Arioch, hands trembling slightly on the crossbow.
As Orin made her way down and into the woods, she would lose something of her vantage point; the fence and the tent towering over it would be more or less all she could see. She would not encounter anyone in the woods north of the circus.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 16, 2019 20:03:48 GMT
"You might vant to drop the crossbow and make a run for it. The rest of the crew coming through might not stop to talk."
He told the man without so much as a side glance, it was a suggestion as dry as his first ultimatum had been. That was in truth because he cared not for if the man lived or not, it was his choice ultimately and his life, to die there and live to see another day. He was almost past him when he stopped in his tracks.
"Vhere is Ivor?"
He asked, either if the man knew about where he was, or didn't, his reaction would be the same after hearing it: Keep walking forward and take a good look at what was the situation as far as he could see. Darkness he liked, he had a good eye to see in the dark while most other people didn't. Stealth was discouraged wearing a half-plate armor, but in the event there were many people armed and ready waiting for him it might just be the right thing to do to gain the upper hand.
Internally, he wondered how many people would die today. And how many of those would be by his hand.
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 20:08:23 GMT
Orin would move through the trees, keeping a generally straight path around the circus. Keeping the fence on her right. She'd walk for a little bit, having seen the circus from a decent vantage point before walking through the woods. No one was here- good. Slowly, Orin would angle her walk toward the fence itself, running her hand along the wood. Durable, good fencing surrounded the fence. It must have been a pain to constantly tear down and reconstruct the fence as often as a traveling menargie had to.
Though Orin would stop, peaking through the small gap here, the small opening there. She would take a quick moment at each, trying to get as close to the big red tent as she could while she had the cover of the fence. When she got close enough, the eladrin would ponder, then keep walking. There was a bit more behind the red tent that Orin couldn't see from the vantage point, and her curiosity got the better of her to keep moving toward the back corner of the fence (north-east corner, for clarification).
Once there, Orin would peak in to see what she could see through the fence from this vantage point.
[Note: I can edit in a Perception check if you so choose. I didn't want to assume.]
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Post by moralhazard on Mar 16, 2019 20:16:33 GMT
((Oss, please roll a perception check))
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 20:21:06 GMT
Orin's Perception Check as she looks through the fence: _g4KwRda1d20+21d20+2
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Post by moralhazard on Mar 16, 2019 20:23:47 GMT
Orin would be able to see through the heavy wooden slats decently well. From the northeast corner, she would be able to see two sets of what looked very much like cages, one clump about fifteen feet from the wall, and a second another thirty feet past that. She wouldn’t be able to tell if the cages were open or closed or whether they might be occupied.
“… in the tent,” the thug grumbled, thoroughly cowed. He shifted a little further away from Arioch, and as Arioch passed him, he would hear the quick sound of footsteps – although no thunk that might correspond to a dropped crossbow.
Once he reached the gate, Arioch would be able to see inside the circus area. There were two men in his immediate area dressed like the first had been, one with a crossbow off to his left (to the north); the one on the right (to the south) was adjusting what looked like ale casks next to a large stand, with a mace propped on the ground next to him. Both wore the same leather armor that the thug Arioch had just scared off did.
Further back, striding out of the tent, was a man in what looked like splint armor, a longsword hanging from one hip. Unlike the other two, he was looking right at the entrance as Arioch came in, and promptly let out a yell of warning.
Time for initiative! Rolls for both Orin and Arioch; from now on we’ll be keeping combat time.
North thug: he0fTAtb1d20+0
South thug: 1d20+0
Other guy: 1d20+11d20+0·1d20+0·1d20+1
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on Mar 16, 2019 20:26:51 GMT
Initiative! ZvDFJfJA1d20+2
As Arioch walked inside with the same nonchalancy as he had crossed the front gate he was met by two separate guards, one with a crossbow and another one distracted with a mace at his feet seemingly helping himself to some crates. However there was one guard that met his stare head on. He was just getting ready to bullshit his way through the situation to avoid needless slaughter of employes when he yelled the alarm. To which he sighed with a groan and spun his greatsword around finally grabbing the handle with both hands and readying himself for what was to come. Three on one. The odds were almost fair for them. Almost.1d20+2
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Post by Ossular on Mar 16, 2019 20:28:16 GMT
Orin's Initiative: EVIYtkSM1d20+21d20+2
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Post by moralhazard on Mar 16, 2019 20:34:52 GMT
The north thug, with the crossbow, would be the first to react. Evidently the time to wait was over; a stranger striding in to the camp in half-plate armor was sufficient provocation to shoot first and ask questions later.
North thug crossbow attack: Vc0CvTnD1d20+2 If successful, damage: 1d10
The man with the longsword would move next – but he didn’t close the distance, not yet. He would move about twenty feet closer to Arioch, putting him roughly thirty feet from the gladiator.
The south thug would scoop up his mace, fumbling with it, a little behind his friends, then charge at Arioch, closing the distance between them and swinging the mace at him twice.
Mace attack 1: 1d20+4 If successful, damage: 1d6+2
Mace attack 2: 1d20+4 If successful, damage: 1d6+2 1d20+2·1d10·1d20+4·1d6+2·1d20+4·1d6+2
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