SOI Mutants & Masterminds: Struggles of Iannin - First Arc - Strange Winds

[Adrian Moss]

Suragygh's large, draconic head swung one way and then the other. He sniffed the non-existant wind (but didn't like it). Finally, he listened intently.

"There's a market here, but thrice-damn me if I can tell were it is by moonlight. It was only the turn of Quaress's chancy eye that I managed to find it the first time. I think, by day, I can figure my way from the wharf I came in on to the place we need to be, but I will only get us lost tonight."

He looks at Drage.

"I suggest we find a tavern that will fit one of my kind and wait until the fishermen start bringing in the finer fish to sell to the better taverns. Those are close by the market as I recall."

Sur shrugs his scaly shoulders,

"I hate the delay, but I see no way around it. Do you have any ideas? Short of grabbing some cutthroat by his 'jewels' and asking him all nice-like?"

[Ira Sagebrush]

"It will be morning before any mongers bring in fish, what little catch they may have. This weather has set a mood over the entire land. Our dealings would best be made in the morning, desperation for things this eve would draw eyes and ears and prices beyond our reach. Let us find an inn as you said. I could use a drink or three after the day I've had. We can pluck some information from those who have found the bottom of their tankard." Drage replied quietly, looking around to make sure no unwelcome ears were listening.

"We'll alternate watch over the night, I trust not these cutthroats, and see about the supplies in the morn. It will look better for us to enjoy ourselves a bit, away from the ship as we are. No catch-on crew is that dutiful."

[Adrian Moss]

The Ankassim grunts,

"And here I was hoping to cozy up to the one kind soul in this city so he wouldn't die of loneliness."

He looks around then says,

"There's a tavern this way," he points, "or that way," he points in a different direction. "If we stay close to the docks we're likely having to kill somebody before daybreak."

As they start moving.

"I've a bit of brew with me, so I don't need to drink anything of questionable virtue here. I'll stand first watch to make sure they don't slip you something."

[Ouroboros]

Moving away from the docks was easy enough and one could hardly get past the few small warehouses that sat at the end of the piers before finding a boisterous watering hole. Most looked ready to collapse if a strong wind happened by, and many seemed to be actively shaking under the pressure of the brawling, singing, carousing sailors within. The quality of the building increased, and the raucous behavior within decreased, as they moved further from the water. Finally the pair chose a place that didn't appear to threaten collapse or bodily harm just for entering.

Upon entering they received a multitude of looks from the patrons, serving wenches, and the proprietor, a rail thin a'Fen with a gruesome scar on the left half of his face that left one eye blind, and his mouth perpetually dragged down into a grimacing frown. It lasted a moment, and the music, put out by a man banging away on a strange looking pair of inverted metal domes, never missed a beat. The hush subsided within an instant as people went back to their own business, drinking or talking, or pinching the bottoms of the maidens. Sur could almost stand upright, an improvement over the prior taps where he'd have been all but unable to pass through the door.

"In or out, but close tha door, yer lettin' the blighted flys in," the man behind the bar barked, his gravely voice matching the vicious scar on his face. "Wine's two gold a goblet, rum be three, an' we don' serve grog 'ere. If ya wan' tha' swill, go elsewhere." He stood staring at them, his hand spread out on the bar, and his one good eye boring holes into both men.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Drage stepped forward into the room, letting Sur close the door behind them as he gazed over the common area, his feet shuffling in the sawdust on the floor.

Gold for a drink!? The water come from the garden of Zahan Thaya herself?

Trying not to let the shock of the price dominate his face, Drage returned the glare as he approached and laid out 3 gold marks on the bar, the pieces so worn, the mint of origin couldn't be determined. He didn't trust a skinny proprietor, but an A'fen out of water and in clothing to boot was already sure to not be an honest man.

Won't do to refuse and draw attention, and I be in no mood to negotiate.

The coins vanished quickly from the alcohol-soaked wood and were replaced with a small mug of dark liquid. The stare resumed and Drage took his drink and moved off to find a table, quick to remove himself from the presence of someone that appeared to dislike his customers as though they were an inconvenience.

A open table was found that sat them near the man playing the metal instrument, which was fine with Drage, as it drowned out his talk as he whispered to Sur, "I will see if I can buy a conversation." Sur nodded, keeping a watchful eye.

The Murg motioned for one of the waitresses and he handed her the coin to buy drinks for a table near him that had what appeared to be a bunch of Thayim traders.

"Those there?" The girl asked, pointing with a gesture of her head, tossing her odd calico-colored hair.

"Those be the ones." Drage nodded.

"Ya be sure t'be buyin' 'em drinks, those wit da vests?"

"Yes, them." Drage agreed again, trying to be patient.

"Ya be Chaos-licked, I not be givin' dem drink, ya."

"Perhaps, we should heed her caution." Sur said with a low rumble.

Drage rolled his eyes, bearing down and feeling backed into a corner. "They be as good as any, bring me the wine, I'll give 'em myself!"

The girl shrugged, "It be ya death, though I be mad if I need clean up yer crazy Mire-blood."

Sur started to talk, but Drage shot him a glare and he shut his jaw. The girl soon returned with the glasses and set them down with a shake of her head, then returned to her duties.

Drage grabbed the three glasses and approached the three men. They were dressed simply, all in well-made clothing of neutral colors, but simlar leather vests were worn by all. Two appeared to be Thayim, but one was a Ssenast, his fur a near perfect sheen of a smokey grey. Their conversation ceased as it appeared that Drage was approaching and they all turned to look at him, waiting with looks that said they'd as soon gut him and use his hide as a hat as talk to him.

"Hail," Drage started, losing a bit of his confidence as their looks penetrated him, "I have a round on me, if ya not be minding company." He set the trio of goblets down on their table and gave a small nod, keeping his stance neutral, but his hand couldn't help but drift to his Halbaxe.

The Ssenast of the group, who happened to be farthest from him, produced a knife seemingly from thin air and stabbed it down into the table, the blade sinking well over an inch. All while never moving his gaze from Drage.

To his benefit, Drage did not flinch, but he grimaced, leather creaking as he shifted in his Keyai armor, "That be no good for the blade, ye could chip off the end as soon as not with a gesture like that, be it Dakar or not. A simple 'no' be more than enough."

The man closest to him, his beard in the style of the Mire, like Drage's, swept an arm at the goblets throwing them and splashing their contents over the Murg. The room fell silent as Drage took a sputtering step back. All attention turning to the commotion. The three roared into laughter, though no one else did. Sur stood up at their table and immediately the three fell silent and rose from their seats as well.

While wiping a hand down his face and over his beard, Drage held his other up to Sur, waving him off.

...let not passion rule you. In the face of hate, be at peace.

"My apologies." he said, flinging wine to the floor with his hand before giving a small bow. "I was a fool to approach, please, don't let my

mistakes throw off yer evenin'. With an even deeper bow he retreated back to the table where Sur stood.

"Not a word, good Kassim." he said, trying to laugh at himself. With a muttered, 'fool', the same calico maid brought by a towel and tossed it at Drage before heading to clean up the goblets and sweep up the soaked sawdust and replace it with new.

For the better part of an hour, the pair received nervous glances from other tables, if any look at all and even the man playing his curious instrument moved to another part of the room. It wasn't until the trio of leather-vested left that the tension in the room seemed to lift.

Nearly on their heels leaving, a pair of traders stumbled in, obviously already having seen the bottom of a few tankards. The surly A'fen gave them the same greeting that he gave Drage and Sur. The two laughed and the A'fen was already motioning to a man that had been leaning against the wall near the door which Drage surmised was the A'fen's muscle.

"Quaress' luck." Drage growled and hopped up, pulling coin from his belt. "There you are! I was wondering if ya had missed your way and found the yerself between the legs of some fancy Fen! Drinks for my friends!" He tossed the gold onto the bar and received naught but a disgusted look from the A'fen in return. He slowly swiped the gold off and replaced it with two mugs of rum. The two traders wasted no time in snatching it up and taking swigs. They didn't know who Drage was, but they weren't about to say anything and lose out on the free drink.

"C'mon ya louts, we got a table. Slapping them on the back, he herded them to the table.

They never questioned Drage's familiarity with them, as he kept the rum coming. They proved to be resourceful wells of knowledge as they were a pair of Waremen who dealt in the moving of goods within the city. Over the next couple hours and over a few mugs of rum and a cup of dice, Sur and Drage gleaned them until they finally passed out.

Info Gathering Skill Challenge

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 5+2: 7

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 20+2: 22

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 18+2: 20

Try: 5 sux before 4 fail 1 hour/roll

1st - 2 degrees of Fail

2nd - 3 degrees of Sux

3rd - 2 degrees of Sux

Note: I forgot to add my +1 to the rolls for default PRE, but it doesn't change anything.

[Adrian Moss]

As they walked out, Suragygh finally spared Drage a word.

"Lucky you're not dead and I'm not gone avenging you by now."

That was it. Nothing else. The first tint of red was appearing in the morning sky, a grey signal that night was finally leaving. Sadly, this didn't bring the accustomed morning breeze. There was fatigue in their muscles, sleep in their eyes, but a terrible resolve in their hearts. Time enough for weakness later.

[Ouroboros]

There was indeed a faint ember of red on the far east horizon, a glow that was only barely visible below the blue-black blanket of night pierced by stars. The sun would not break that horizon for an hour yet, but just seeing that evidence of morning light seemed to make the air take on more heat. In the growing pre-dawn light the two men stumbled through the darkened streets of To'ren looking for the sign of the silver star. Lancing rays of first light streamed down the narrow streets and illuminated crooked chimneys as Drage and Su located the Silver Star, a clay and brick building built long and low with an uneven wooden roof that looked to have been built from salvaged longboats.

The small window, filled with thick green glass, glowed faintly from within, a flickering light of a candle as there was no smoke yet rising from the chimney, and likely none would given the heat of the day already. The thick planks of the wooden door muffled the pounding thud of Drage's fist. It seemed as though the sound had fallen on deaf ears, and Sur banged liberally on the door in turn before a muffled shout from within halted his hand. A small port opened in the door, and dark watery eyes peered out from within. "What tha blazes? Len 'izself ain't crossed from Wulkyn's realm. Speak yer bizness an' be quick wit' it. If ya be wastin' my time I'll no be gentle with ya!"

[Ira Sagebrush]

"I keep my words brief then, good master. We seek Elantine. Unworked. We have been told that people with needs in To'ren seek out yer renown talents. That you be a man of means." He raised up a coin pouch where the eyes could see it in the dim light and shook it so the coins jingled, appealing to what appeared to be the lifeblood of this town. "We also, be bringin' our own means."

[Adrian Moss]

Suragygh looked around, checking to see if they were being observed in their early morning stop. Money brought thieves in this town the way dung brought flies. It was a sad state of affairs, but such was reality too much of the time. For now, he shadowed Drage. If he had to take off, it would take a few seconds, but he would attempt it. Of course, they would have to get their metal first. What was a few scrapes and bruises compared to their mission? Chaos had to be stopped. Blood had been spilled by others. It would not be in vain ... not today.

[Ouroboros]

The entire thing played out a bit like a comedy; Drage was too short to see much through the tiny port in the door, and Sur too tall to do the same save by stooping low. Holding his coins up for the man behind the door to see Drage spoke his peace as Sur stood like a silent mountain, unspeaking, behind him. "Ya heard wrong," the voice grumbled. Drage had taken a step backward to get a better angle on the door, and Sur had bent into a near crouch to do the same; both could see that despite the words those dark eyes were fixated on the coin-purse Drage still held out. "Ah ain't got no Elanteen," the proprietor said slowly after a moment, his eyes never leaving the money.

Skill check please

Insight DC 15

[Adrian Moss]

Insight Check

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 13+7: 20
That's two levels of success, right?

[Ira Sagebrush]

The entire thing played out a bit like a comedy; Drage was too short to see much through the tiny port in the door, and Sur too tall to do the same save by stooping low. Holding his coins up for the man behind the door to see Drage spoke his peace as Sur stood like a silent mountain, unspeaking, behind him. "Ya heard wrong," the voice grumbled. Drage had taken a step backward to get a better angle on the door, and Sur had bent into a near crouch to do the same; both could see that despite the words those dark eyes were fixated on the coin-purse Drage still held out. "Ah ain't got no Elanteen," the proprietor said slowly after a moment, his eyes never leaving the money.

A flash of shock went over Drage's face, but he quickly regained his composure, tucking away the purse. "My apologies then for disturbing you at the early hour. My informant's tongue was wetter than an A'fen's ass, I suppose I should consider the source more closely next time."

Muck-suckin' traders. Waste my tainted time.

"Say, though..." he continued, pulling a coin and flipping it in the air. The rising Twin caught it and the gold flashed as it landed in Drage's palm. "Might you have a good source that we could seek out? A coin as apology and one to match for a source."

Bargaining with thieves...Twin's burn 'em.

[Adrian Moss]

"Oh, we can find him on our own, and cheaper for cheaper than this one will sell him out for," Sur grumbled. "We're wasting our time. Our gold is best spent elsewhere."

The great Ankassim turned and made ready to leave. His look to the shopkeeper was a mixture of disdain and anger. He held no real animosity to the man, it was all an act, to get the information quickly, at less cost. They still had no idea what the metal would cost, nor how much time they had to spare. Letting a bit of that sense of urgency be turned into a trick cost Suragygh little and had the chance of speeding their mission along. He also held back a grin at a twist of fortune. With the sun (and heat) coming, there was far less a chance that there would be a group of ruffians willing to assault them. One took one's fortune were you could.

[Ouroboros]

"Wait!" the man cried despite the fact that neither of the two outside his door had taken more than a single step away. They could see he was eyeing Drage's gold. The sound of locks and bolts and chains swiftly followed before the door swung open, "Come now, if you have coin we can make a deal. If you have the coin." The pair followed the short Thayim, Drage spotting a stool the man had stood on to look through the door, as he moved into the building. Sur had to stoop through the door but inside it was high enough to walk erect, though the shelving and stacks of crates, barrels, and chests was so tight that he felt at every moment like he would cause a catastrophic collapse of the shop's inventory.

Looking up at the roof confirmed that it had been made from overturned salvaged hulls. One end had a short counter, and beyond that a room hidden behind a ragged curtain. Port hole windows dotted the structure and let varying amounts of light in, resulting in a dark and close atmosphere. "Elantine yes? I sold a great quantity jus' recently. Yes, jus' recently." His hand darted out and before Drage knew it the coin in his hand was in the other man's mouth as he bit down on it and then squirreled it away into a pocket of his grimy vest. "I've some cast Elanil... a goblet what will purify any liquid poured within. Or prehaps an enchanted blade what will nev'r rust or dull yes?" He eyed the two potential customers, though Drage and Sur both were starting to feel like potential marks instead. "How much do you be needing? What for? Elantine is rare, an' costly, even on the mainland. Rarer an' costlier still here in the middle of the ocean."

[Adrian Moss]

"I think I know someone who might pay you for the blade, but not me and not today. What we need is the Elantine, but we are willing to pay you a ... Finder's Fee, seeing how helpful you've been."

That was a gross exaggeration, as the man had offered more misdirection than help, but his greed was evident. Now all Sur and Drage had to do was get the name of the recipient, the time of that deal, and how to contact them. That would be worth a little coin. The bargaining could no commence. He stole a glance to Drage to make sure they were on the same page. The warrior handled himself well, but now they needed to hold in their desperate need. There was still the matter of the ore. Buying it wouldn't be cheap, and if the owner didn't want to sell ... they would deal with that when/if came up.

[Ouroboros]

The man's eyes lit up greedily at the mention of coin but quickly narrowed again, "Ye wish me ta sell ma client? An' wot then would ya do? I'd not stay long in bu'iness sellin' out my custom ta brigands what would steal goods rightly paid for." He still eyed the two men however, "T'is a quandary, for them that bought the Elantine, they had the look of men most foul. An' they bought ev'ry last nugget in dis 'ere shop." He leaned over the counter, looking both men squarely in the eye in turn, "Gold speaks though, an' ev'ry man has a price. If you've coin enough pr'aps I'd be convinced ta broker acquisition of your goods for ye."

[Ira Sagebrush]

Where there be a Truthsayer when you need one? Oh right, they are all dead. Maybe we could just start choppin' off his digits til his sluice gate opens. The lizard would jump on that...they're all high and mighty with that God o' theirs. Judge first, find crime later. The weasel just wants the gold, and will say what it takes to get it. Plannin' to rob us already, I bet. I am so tired.

Drage absently ran his hand over his Halbaxe, caressing it as his mind wandered in exhaustion, "How much coin?" he demanded. "For the information, we don't need a broker and we're not brigands."

Twins save me from ripping off this thieve's face.

[Ouroboros]

Hey eyed Drage warily. He didn't like the way the murg, if he was really a living murg, was fingering that strange axe. Not that he liked the fact that his companion towered over both of them. He also didn't care for the fact that he couldn't tell how much they really wanted some Elantine. He has sold a goodly amount just a few weeks ago, but that didn't mean he had none to sell now. A good merchant ensures that he has the wares on hand for the customer, but supply drove prices as much as demand; he had supply, a small amount, but did they have the demand to meet his price. "For the information? One hundred crowns worth." If they would pay it, perhaps he would just sell what he had, surely they would pay what he asked. "Or, you can return when the wind does, if you can wait. I'm sure to get more when the trade resumes."

[Adrian Moss]

Suragygh snorts.

"For twenty I'd pay the Murg to cut you up one digit at a time, and he'd smile while he did it. He's been itching to take a slice", making his fingers into a quoting motion, "out of any person of low moral character and he might just refund me five for the entertainment value."

Now he gives that grin full of teeth,

"Now how about I pay you seven for the information and five for keeping your mouth shut afterwards? That seems fair."

[Ouroboros]

The trader sputtered in indignation, "If ya hurt me you'll no get your information, an' if ya kill me you'll no get your precious Elantine. Ya claim no to be brigands, but ya threat'n like a pair of scallywags what been pulled from the bilge." He put up a good front, but both could see that he was sweating, and his eyes were darting between the two of them wondering which would be the first to lay hands on him. "Twelve be an insult ta me an' mine own, tha price is now a hundred an' twenty more crowns." He stepped backward from the counter, producing a strange hollow tube half a span in length, bigger around than a balled fist, that was covered in runes and glyphs. The interior of the hollow was lit with a strange blue-white glow. "If ya be 'ere for trade, then let trade be done, but ah'll no tolerate a single threat more."

[Ira Sagebrush]

"Sur! You giant muck drinker!" Drage growled in shocked frustration. He turned to the very well armed man, "Do not let the outrageous comments of my companion here, dissolve our situation into a lightnin' fight. Dry as it is, yer as likely to send this pile o' cinders to Kaer and us along with it."

Truth.

"I am Drage, the last of the Twin's Knights... and the last of the Murg." He lamented, his hand wandering to his eyepatch. "I fought in the wars against the undead, witnessed the death of countless at the hands of their own twisted people. Chaos himself waded and laughed his way through any resistance we had. I was there with the li--Anupans, at what they now call Thanegaardt, as they cast their ritual, giving over thousands of themselves to eradicate the Horde and destroy the Bound.

Now...a portion of this Chaos lives on and we seek to destroy it. It nearly took a boy yesterday. To do this, we need Elantine. As much as we can get, something we were led to believe you have. We will pay well, but we will not be robbed. If you truly have sold your stock, we will pay fair for information, time is of the essence. We do not seek harm, just swiftness. Tell me, can you be a hero today and join us? Help us end the taint that blights Iannin?"

[Adrian Moss]

Sur seethes and glowers at the small man before him, but is clearly bring restrained by Drage's words.

"Fine," he growls, "we'll try your path of honesty for now, though I don't think he'll recognize the truth now that it's in front of him."

His body seems to boil with a un-directed anger; an anger of their situation, more than the man.

[Ouroboros]

"Quaress' teats!" The lightening caster wavered, but didn't get lowered, "You've more balls than brains ta tell a story like tha'. Chaos 'ere on Ki'nin'ay? No wonder tha' blasted winds hav' lef' us, we be cursed an' damned!" Beady eyes regarded them both. Drage looking resigned, and Sur looking angry, nearly quivering with it. "I've a small nugget left. I didn' sell all my stock. Ah kep' some for future custom, if tha gold be right." He stepped back and with one hand pushed a black curtain behind him aside revealing a very large chest, covered in rune bound strapping, with a hasp that was also worked over with pattern magic of one kind or another.

"A quarter stone nugget, ah'll sell 'er to ya fer," he gauged them closely, "Twelve hun'red crowns. It do be tha las' o' my stock. My word as a merchan'."

fun with dimensions

a stone is 20 pounds

so quarter stone is 5 pounds

[Ira Sagebrush]

Twelve?! Do I look like I just crawled outta the mud? Prices cannot be so terrible, and yet he would not be so far off as that.

"That piece be mostly slag." Drage said, eyeing it warily. "Four hundred and a prayer for my Oremaster father, who be rollin' in his grave at such prices."

"Open ya eye! If ya can see out tha one ya got left! Dis be 'igh quality. Ma throat be slit an' beggared yet, ah take less tha' eleven."

Drage scoffed. Slightly more dramatically than necessary. He had watched a lot of bargaining in his youth along the shores of the Sea of Tears, if nothing else he knew the motions and steps it was likely to take. The Fen had called it the Dance of Prices, or at least that was the best it translated to, the Murg had just called it trading, but then the Fen gave fancy names to everything.

He turned his attention back to the merchant, now that the borders had been set for the agreement, it was just a matter of time before they reached the middle. The price would still be ridiculously steep for what he remembered of ore values, but they would be able to afford it. The size looked as though it would serve their purpose and it wouldn't require convincing the custom of this man to let go of items purchased fairly.

"You'll be a pauper yet, if you want to see me hand more than five ta you."

And so it went. They 'danced' back and forth, feigning insult and lamenting outrageous demands only to turn and return the same. Though the price did slowly spiral closer and finally they came to an agreement of eight hundred.

As he pulled the majority of the pouches from the bottom of his quiver, he glanced over the engraved arrows.

Fifteen...I will miss them, for their parts if nothing else, but if the coin be good, it is a worthy cause.

Drage tried a smaller amount with the added barter of his engraved arrows, or at least some of them, but while the man praised their craftsmanship, he had said there was no market for them in these trying times and he didn't have the coin to invest in future worth.

Then Drage explained what they could do, "A fireball ya say, eh?" The man said thoughtfully, "An' 'ole diggin...petrify ya say...ah'll take a' 'undred off."

"Done." Drage took out the remaining coin needed on the assumption the man had said one hundred. At least, that's what Drage thought he said, the man's accent was as thick as a Skrofan stew. He left the rest in his quiver, sight unseen, and wrapped the engraved arrows in an oilcloth he received from the man. He then took the large nugget from him and placed it down in the quiver, careful not to jostle coins.

"It has been a pleasurable experience, good sir. You drive a hard bargain and have a keen eye. The Twins favor you." Drage said, bowing slightly.

[Adrian Moss]

When you get robbed in a Place of Robbers, you expected it. It was odd to see Drage's emotion when he parted with his arrows, magic aside. In the end, what mattered most was the completion of this stage of the mission. Getting home was not a given. If no other thief caught up with them, it would be a small miracle. It was a miracle they were looking for.

Sur said nothing. He did bow slightly, as the 'man' had completed a deal with them. His honor may not have mattered to the merchant, but Suragygh valued his own. The Ankassim had come expecting some knowledge and they had accomplished their goal instead. It was even dawn-cast enough that they might leave without harrassment.

"Drage, time we left. We have a long way to go before this 'gift' reaches the right hands. What say you?"

[Ouroboros]

The murg grunted with a sharp nod of his head. The shopkeeper had nearly forgotten about them already, counting out the gold they had given him and placing it into the chest behind him. Only nearly however, his hand rarely stray far from the lightening caster, and when they closed the door behind them the sound of locking bolts quickly followed. Not wanting to attract undue attention just yet the pair wound through the streets away from the shop. Unseen in their wake a man followed, and was joined by a handful of others.

The narrow alley emptied into a small intersection, barely five paces across it was like a star joining with four other similar passages. Standing at the opening to each was a grizzled man in rough clothing and dark armor, leather, scale, and one in wide-ring mail over leather. A quick glance behind them confirmed that there was a fifth blocking any retreat. The man in the ring-mail stepped forward, his only hand holding a long handled spiked mace that rested over his shoulder, the other hand stretched outward, open. "I knew that weasel of a merchant was holding out on me. My man heard you asking for about Elantine, and I mean to have it. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. My men would prefer the hard way, but if you'd like to keep your lives, just hand it over now." He smiled a predator's smile, his teeth yellowed, and in the morning light appearing pointed. He grabbed a purse from his belt, "I'll even give you three hundred crowns for your trouble. That should more than cover it."

Perception checks

Drage: Roll: 6 +4 Modifier -15 DC = -5 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

Sur: Roll: 5 +3 Modifier -15 DC = -7 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

You guys didn't see a damn thing.

Post any reactions, speech, and pre-battle actions, as well as an Initiative roll please.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Init

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 6+3: 9

Really?! Drage silently whined, glancing at the Twins. Leaving only the second to feel sorry for himself, he shrugged his shoulders and stamped his feet, making sure his clothing and armor was set for the skirmish that was most likely to happen.

"Just the five of ya, is it?" Drage said, making a quick glance around before letting his gaze rest on their 'leader'.

"I tell you what..." Drage continued, freeing his Halbaxe in the blink of an eye. "You gimme that purse, and I'll let you walk away. Otherwise, I leave ya bound in yer smallclothes, if not dead. You five are no match."

Intimidate

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 17+1: 18

[Adrian Moss]

"Hmmmrrr ..." Suragygh growled.

There wasn't much to be said. Now there was only the hope that the Murg was as good a fighter as advertised. In most situations, five on one were bad odds, but five on two? That was a fight you could win. Dying was easy. Now if the fine fellows they were about to clash with would only oblige and expire, they could be on their way.

"You deal with the one's in front of us. I'll kill this rat behind us and be there directly."

He said it without passion. Making people dead was part of his business, as was keeping those on his side alive. If the Murg could hold the four off for only a few seconds, the Ankassim was sure he would be back in the 'main' fight. The man blocking their escape would be a crisp critter alright. The rest would feel the caress of his blade. As for the villains, there was little use in mincing words with them. If they really were rats, one or two dying would convince them to bolt. If they were more than that, he wasn't likely to have much to worry about when this fight ended. Not in this life anyway.

Initiative

[Adrian Moss] 1:14 pm: Initiative

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 13+5: 18

[Ouroboros]

"Uuhhh boss, mebbe we oughta let dem go. Da little one's a murg, mus' be a tough son ta survive tha war." The other toughs murmured agreement to the one who had spoken.

"You snivelin' bastards, Ah'll drub ya meself if ya don' find yer spines!" the apparent leader of the group yelled. He shifted his grip on his mace and tucked the gold purse into his clothing. Looking at Sur and Drage he smiled, again seeming to have sharply pointed teeth, "Fine then, the hard way, but I warned you."

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Hench 2 - Roll: 14 +1 Modifier = +15

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Hench 1 - Roll: 2 +1 Modifier = +3

The Crunchy Bits

Resisting Intimidate

Henchmen Roll: 4 +3 Modifier +2 Circumstance Bonus -18 DC = -9 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

Leader - Roll: 3 +5 Modifier +2 Circumstance Bonus -18 DC = -8 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

Granting Drage a HP for a villainous re-roll - Roll: 3 +10 for HP +5 Modifier +2 Circumstance Bonus -18 DC = 2 [color:#009000]PASS.

Move action: Leader makes an intimidation check to bolster his lackys vs Drage's DC 18 - *roll concealed for turn 1*

Standard action: readies counter melee attack (he's not close enough to attack w/o moving)

Round 1: Sur is up next. Hench 2 is on Deck.

[Adrian Moss]

He could attack with words, but that time was passed. He could with his Axe, but that charge would move him too far from the Murg's side. That left ... Lightning. Suragygh felt the power welling up within him, taking the form of Draconic Electricity and surging up his throat. His jaws clenched then unclenched. The Sky-Fire that was his heritage boiled forth with the force akin to that of thunder itself.

'At least the chance of fire wasn't 100%,' he thought hopefully.

Dragon Breath

[Adrian Moss] 7:11 pm: Dragon's Breath

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 3+3: 6

It is a Cone/Area Attack (DC 21)

(please advise me if I need a re-roll)

[Ouroboros]

Sur spun and with a belching roar and a concussive thunderclap spat a bolt of pure electricity at the man behind them. The skrofan was caught off guard and unable to evade the blast but his armor, flimsy and cheap looking metal scales, many of which were missing, conducted the attack into the ground by way of small miracle, leaving the Skrofan gaping but alive.

Seizing the chance to attack his back one of the other men, a thayim with a bronze cestus charged the great dracoform landing a solid hit. The crunch of bronze on onyxiron sounded like bone on stone, but the heavy mail shouldered the blow aside as though it weren't there, leaving barely any force to get through to Sur himself.

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Hench 2 - Roll: 14 +1 Modifier = +15

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Hench 1 - Roll: 2 +1 Modifier = +3

The Crunchy Bits

Henchman 4 Dodge check (DC 10 + Rank = 16) Roll: 5 +6 Modifier -16 DC = -5 FAIL. takes full damage

Toughness check DC 21 Roll: 20 +2 Modifier -21 DC = +1 PASS. takes it like a champ!

Hench 2 - charges Sur and attacks Roll: 16 +4 Modifier -15 DC = +5 PASS. beats the DC (10+Parry)

Sur would need to make a toughness check against DC 19 (15+4) but his armor grants him Impervious 7 which is enough to block all attacks of damage 4 or less (half ranks rounding up). No save needed.

Round 1: Drage is up next. Hench 4, 3 & 1 are on Deck.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Those pointy teeth best not be breathin' fire. Need to keep from in front of him.

The small thunderclap of Sur's breath weapon urged Drage on as he closed with the leader of the group.

So much for diplomacy, time to take out his claw.

Leaping and swinging with all his might, the devote of Tal & Len brought his Halbaxe down upon the haft of Razor-tooth's mace.

Hulk Smash!

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 3+5: 8

[Forge] 8:17 am: fuck

[Kamiko] 8:18 am: OW

[Forge] 8:22 am: HP

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 15+5: 20

[Forge] 8:23 am: much better!

[Kamiko] 8:24 am: yep

[Ouroboros]

Drage's axe slammed into the thick wooden haft of the mace and sent splinters flying as it skipped off the hard wood. The mace remained whole however, and swung down at the murg's skull, missing only as Drage danced backwards to avoid the blow. The two men still flanking the leader, a pair of nasty looking Thayim that might well have Takrok blood in the veins, moved in for a coordinated attack. Drage's axe swung up in a swift parry and block of the two weapons. The murg had survived a prolonged war with undead and chaos spawn, a street fight wasn't going to lay him low without a fight.

Behind him Sur had his own battle as the skrofan recovered and charged the big Kassim, laying into him with a stout cudgel, studded over with what looked like wrappings made from and old suit of composite armor. The impact of the charge added to that of the weapon and the force was enough to shatter onyxiron rings and drive the blow home to Sur's flesh beneath.

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Hench 2 - Roll: 14 +1 Modifier = +15

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Hench 1 - Roll: 2 +1 Modifier = +3

The Crunchy Bits

Mace toughness check Roll: 20 +4 Modifier -22 DC = +2 [color:#009000]PASS.

Leader's readied attack back Roll: 3 +6 Modifier -15 DC = -6 [color:#F00000]FAIL. MISS!

Hench 4 supports Hench 3 - Aid Roll: 15 +4 Modifier -10 DC = +9 [color:#009000]PASS. - grants a +2 to Hench 3's attack

Hench 3 attacks Drage, uses a +2/-2 power attack Roll: 3 +2 Modifier +2 Circumstance Bonus -15 DC = -8 [color:#F00000]FAIL. - MISS!

Hench 1 - Charges Sur and power attacks for +2/-2 - Roll: 15 +2 Modifier -15 DC = +2 [color:#009000]PASS. HIT

Damage is +6 DC 21 save required!

Leader attacks Drage - Roll: 6 +6 Modifier -15 DC = -3 [color:#F00000]FAIL. - MISS!

Round 2: Sur is up next.

[Adrian Moss]

Crunched!

[Adrian Moss] 11:03 am: Toughness check
Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 6+7: 13 = FAIL!

Sur grunted from the pain, but pain just made him angry.
'Time for close combat blood-letting,' he growled to himself, followed by, 'By the Twins, I'd better hit or the Murg will never let me live it down ... if we live.'
Seriously, the fact that he could actually die at the hands of these ruffians wasn't all that worrying. Suragygh had survived worse. He had debts to pay, and chaos to cage. Killing right now was just business - painful business.

Take Sum Bayitch!

[Adrian Moss] 11:09 am: Smack
[Kamiko] 11:09 am: ?
Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 15+6: 21
[Adrian Moss] 11:09 am: Trying to hit somebody.
Save DC 24

Second Smack!

jameson] 11:22 am: all three of you are "behind drage" relatively speaking
[Adrian Moss] 11:23 am: Then the one who hit me won the lottery!
[jameson] 11:23 am: ok
[Lobby]: Jeremy has left at 11:23 am
[jameson] 11:23 am: try to make that clear for me next time if you would please, just in case you aren't around to ask
[Adrian Moss] 11:23 am: Understood.
[jameson] 11:25 am: since he's a hechman, and now dead, you get a free attack on Hench 2
[jameson] 11:25 am: pls roll
[Adrian Moss] 11:25 am: Free Roll!
[Adrian Moss] 11:25 am: ERROR: invalid dice command - /d 1/d20 +6. Proper dice command is /d [[n]D]s[Xm|+a|-d|/q]*. Max number of dice is
60. Max number of sides for a die is 100.
Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 9+6: 15
[Adrian Moss] 11:25 am: Smack?
[jameson] 11:26 am: gotta check
[jameson] 11:26 am: nope
[jameson] 11:26 am: that's a miss
[jameson] 11:26 am: unless you want to burn a HP
[Adrian Moss] 11:26 am: Damn, because I'm wounded?
[Adrian Moss] 11:27 am: I wasn't sure I had one, but I will.
[jameson] 11:27 am: nope, wounds only affect your resistance to future wounds (i.e. they lower toughness)
[Adrian Moss] 11:27 am: ERROR: invalid dice command - /d 1/d20 +6. Proper dice command is /d [[n]D]s[Xm|+a|-d|/q]*. Max number of dice is
60. Max number of sides for a die is 100.
[Adrian Moss] 11:27 am: Damn it!
[jameson] 11:27 am: the tracker says you have 2
[Adrian Moss] 11:27 am: ERROR: invalid dice command - /d 1/d20 + 6. Proper dice command is /d [[n]D]s[Xm|+a|-d|/q]*. Max number of dice is
60. Max number of sides for a die is 100.
[jameson] 11:27 am: reroll dem bones
Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 18+6: 24
[Adrian Moss] 11:28 am: Smack!
[jameson] 11:28 am: that'll do pig
DC 24!!!!
-1 HP

[Ouroboros]

The Kassim's black bladed axe swung down onto the skrofan and cut through armor, skin, flesh and bone with equal ease. Bloody sprayed freely as the man's torso splayed apart, almost completely, from shoulder to hip, leaving a corpse to fall to the rough trodden ground. With a roar the great lizard spun on one foot and sent his massive blade smashing into the thayim at his back cleaving his head from his shoulders in a single blow that left him slick with red blood and carnage. A handful of paces ahead Drage's blade was clashing with maces and cudgels, a three on one fight that was soon to change odds.

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Conditions

Drage -

Sur - wounded (-1 on toughness checks)

Leader

Hench 1 - dead

Hench 2 - dead

Hench 3

Hench 4

The Crunchy Bits

Hench 1 Toughness vs DC 24 - auto fail (even a 20 would fail) - he's toast

Sur spins to attack Hench 2 (via takedown) - [Adrian Moss] 11:25 am: Free Roll! Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 9+6: 15 - miss

spends a HP [jameson] 11:27 am: reroll dem bones - Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 18+6: 24 - Hit

Hench 2 Toughness vs DC 24 - auto fail (even a 20 would fail) - he's toast

Round 2: Drage is up next.

[Ira Sagebrush]

Drage heard, but didn't see the results of what was happening behind him and the familiar stench of blood, entrails and vacated bowels wafted over him.

If they can see it, perhaps they will change their mind.

Grunting, he threw the parried weapons back at their wielders and swung his Halbaxe in a level arc, meaning to take the Leader in his hip with the spiked side.

Gyrate those hips!

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 10+5: 15

DC 22

Edit: Spent HP for reroll

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 10+5: 15 = 25 after adding +10 for HP

[Ouroboros]

The balancing spike on the back of Drage's axe smashed into the leader's hip, cracking mail rings, and ripping a furrow through leather and flesh. The muthay grunted but kept his feet. His companions, the takrok muthay, who Drage now realized were likely brothers, possibly even twins, remained at the man's flank, attacking in concert once again, the first attempting to draw out an opening for the second, but Drage's blade moved with greater speed than it would seem possible and blocked both feint and strike easily. A wet rumble grew in the throat of the leader and without a word his jaw dropped wide as a gout of nearly gelatinous flame belched out over Drage and Sur both, bathing the alley in red-orange light that flickered and danced, and painted fire onto the nearby structures.

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Conditions

Drage -

Sur - wounded (-1 on toughness checks)

Leader - injured x1, dazed

Hench 1 - dead

Hench 2 - dead

Hench 3

Hench 4

The Crunchy Bits

Leader toughness Roll: 13 +3 Modifier -22 DC = -6 [color:#F00000]FAIL. Dazed & injured

Hench 4 - Aid Hench 3 - Roll: 2 +4 Modifier -10 DC = -4 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

Hench 3 - Attack Drage - Roll: 5 +4 Modifier -15 DC = -6 [color:#F00000]FAIL.

Leader - Fire Breath! Cone Area Damage 5

Drage and Sur need to make a Dodge Check on DC 15, followed by a Toughness check of 17 (if they pass the Dodge Check), or 20 (if they fail it). Sur's armor will negate the need to roll if he passes the dodge check only.

Round 3: Sur is up next.

[Ira Sagebrush]

The gurgling could only mean one thing and Drage knew it had been coming. Using the Muthay as his pivot point, he swung himself around, simultaneously yanking his Halbaxe free. He dodged most of the liquid fire, but a large amount splashed over one of his boots as the man turned his head slightly to try and follow Drage.

Luckily for Drage, the boots had obtained a hard, sun-baked, salt-crusted exterior from his days on the island and aboard ships and absorbed the breath. He would need new boots, but a quick wiggle told him his feet were intact.

Can't touch this!

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 12+4: 16

[Forge] 12:03 pm: yay

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 7+7: 14

[Forge] 12:03 pm: fhdjklasfhdlasdl

[Kamiko] 12:04 pm: ugh

[Forge] 12:04 pm: HP

Forge *rolls* 1d20: 18+7: 25

[Forge] 12:05 pm: better

[Adrian Moss]

Drage was moving and fast. Sur wasn't sure why that was, but there was little time to think. This time his mind adopted the scheme that if one broke right, the other broke left and break left he did. Liquid fire rippled past and for an instant, Suragygh felt his clawed foot stumble in the dusty alleyway. He caught himself and moved within the arch of the attack.

Dodge?

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 7+0: 7

[Adrian Moss] 4:47 pm: Spend HP

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 16+10: 26 = Success

'Okay. Not sure what the hell that was, but it was time for that SOB to die.'

Time to Die!

Adrian Moss *rolls* 1d20: 14+6: 20 Smackity! Eat Axe!

Suragygh's axe swung down in a downward slash, aiming for a right shoulder to left hip crushing blow.

[Ouroboros]

Sur's axe smashed down onto the dragon blooded muthay's shoulder with a crunch of steel cracking. The armor held, but the man staggered some, the leather over his shoulder showed slick blood seeping through. No mortal wound, but still a wound the same.

Order of Battle (Initiative)

Leader - Roll: 18 +7 Modifier = +25

Sur - 18

Drage - 9

Hench 4 - Roll: 5 +1 Modifier = +6

Hench 3 - Roll: 4 +1 Modifier = +5

Conditions

Drage -

Sur - wounded (-1 on toughness checks)

Leader - injured x2

Hench 1 - dead

Hench 2 - dead

Hench 3

Hench 4

The Crunchy Bits

Leader toughness roll vs DC 24 Roll: 19 +2 Modifier -24 DC = -3 [color:#F00000]FAIL. injured

Round 3: Drage is up next.