# Forum > Play-by-Post Games > Ongoing Games (In-Character) >  3.5e Batman Campaign (2.0)

## Molan

*CHAPTER ONE: OF SINS AND SHADOWS*

The five of you find yourselves on a dark, gloomy dock just north of the Narrows Bridge in Midtown, Gotham City. Gotham is an old, ancient, sprawling and congested city. It's the dark, menacing pearl of the Empire, as valued and coveted as it is vile and cursed. For as long as anyone can remember, the city has been in a state of decay. Street drunks and doomsayers wail that it's drowning in it's addiction to Arcane Magic, and the Arcana Industry that it depends on for sustenance. Others say it has more mundane enemies; be it the ineptitude of it's high lords or the insatiable avarice of it's noble houses, each vying for a piece of an ever shrinking pie. You stopped asking yourself high minded political questions a long time ago; Gotham is a place where the only thing separating you from a the corpses in the gutters is a full purse -- and perhaps a sharp blade at your side.

You knew how to find this place without needing to be told; The Merchant's Guild Docks have run business out of this part of town for more than a hundred years. Yet now that you've finally arrived, you feel surer than ever that the dark, looming city behind you is getting ready to swallow these docks up at any moment; or perhaps push them into the river.

The Merchant's Guild was once the principle mercantile property of House Wayne; the former Lords of Gotham. The Waynes founded the city and ruled over it for hundreds of years. Though Lord Thomas Wayne, the last "Lord Wayne of Gotham" died only a little more than twenty years ago, it feels like their once mighty house has been gone for a century or more. The Merchant's Guild has found itself besieged on all sides by the other Houses and their own businesses (or, when business failed, their armed men). It's assets have shrunk ever narrower. Now, the Guild Docks is the last territory this once mighty institution has left; and from the looks of things, the docks won't last much longer either.



It's around 10 at night. There are a few ships and boats docked at the harbor, but almost all of the workers have gone home, and only a few, sputtering torches light the walkways. You find that you have an easier time navigating by starlight (or your Darkvision) than you do by the dock's lanterns. You've been walking along the docks for nearly twenty minutes and so far you haven't seen any armed guards, and leaving merchandise and valuable goods lying around without armed protection is something no Gotham merchant in their right mind would ever do. You imagine it's a miracle the place hasn't already been cleaned out. 

To your left, lying on a few crates and piles of tarps and fishing nets, is a guild worker. If he has a home to go to, he's clearly decided it would be preferable to stay out here with the bilge rats, getting blasted on rum and Devilweed. Up ahead, you can see the Guild House. It's a ratty, miserable looking thing; it's as if the entire building is sort of sagging from exhaustion. On the bright side, it's the only part of the docks that's well lit. The assembled torchlight glows in the darkness, calling you like a moth is called to a flame. Nearby you can see a few other guilders, a couple of them guards and a few more workers, milling about or lounging. This is where the bounty notice has directed you; presumably the Guild Master, Lucius Fox, should be waiting for you inside.

And that, of course, is the reason you're all here. The Merchant's Guild has put out a call to handle a job; the notice was a bit light on details -- you're not sure if it's an investigation or simple mercenary work. Either way, you only need to worry about getting the job done and getting paid. For all you know, the Guild won't be here tomorrow -- but as long as you've collected your fee before then, it doesn't really matter.

*Spoiler: Link to the OOC Thread*
Show

https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?637689-3-5e-Batman-OOC-(2-0)&p=25237543#post25237543

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## Feathersnow

A menacing figure plods towards the guild in matte enamel red and black fullplate armor, covered with spikes.  Far above their head is a giant axehead on a pike.

_How far we have fallen.  Was this what I was fighting for? 
Never matter, everything starts somewhere.   You can't clean things without touching filth._

The high pitched voice is the only hint that the figure is female as she calls out, "I've come to see Master Fox."

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## JoyWonderLove

Rum and Devilweed. Classic. Certain to stand an easy ten feet off the inebriated soul, a heatless torch came to life in her hands; an isle of light created off the coast of the well-lit Guild. The lithesome figure was all black leather armour that only retreated at a purple pair of gloves, matching utility belt, and blonde hair. Stephanie let the stranger absorb her appearance, ignoring the looming Guild House and its workers up ahead, only too aware his drug of choice enhanced strength but rattled nerves. It all broke her promise to keep to the shadows and observe a little, at least until she was sure enough hands had made it to the Merchants Guild. The better to turn back without witnesses if she didnt like their odds. No one wanted to die protecting Bruce Wayne's investments. 

_But whats a promise worth if it costs you helping others?_

Used to sell the same stuff, actually. Devilweed, I mean. Rums a little too hardcore for me. 

Stephanie offered a weak smile to the man laying in filth, in spite of her half-mask covering it. Her stomach tensed from the guilt that sat in it like a seashell, small, but distinct to the touch. She had left behind anything drug related over a year ago, her family aside, but it was hard to pretend people like her hadnt done this to someones brother or son or father. She titled the light to herself briefly.

Names Spoiler. Sorta like what you stick on a train to keep it from crashing. Whats yours?

*Spoiler: Diplomacy*
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Take 10 Diplomacy, result of 28 to try and make a friend. Or at least keep him as far from hostility as possible.

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## JbeJ275

Through the half light came a slim figure, taking slow patient steps over the soaked cobblestones that covered this street. She was dressed in simple clothes, with no sign of bulky armour, or any possesions larger than the small tome kept carefully in a sealed pouch at her side. Her clothes were a dark blue, just a hair of a shade off being black, long sleeves, tall boots, leggings and gloves covering every inch of skin below her neck. A long cape, runes etched into the outer lining flowed away from her back. Her hair was covered by a cowl, and the top half of her face by a carefully made mask, the ebony contrasting with the pale skin of her chin and cheeks, and the mask hiding what thoughts could possibly be going on behind it.

_Well, this was a terrible idea._

The thought ran through Barabara's _(no, Oracle's, like this she had to be oracle)_ mind as she stepped forward slowly. She'd confronted enough filth both literal and ethical early in her ccampaign to look over the justicar's but this sort of pragmatic mercenary work was still new to her, and the level of filth they displayed to anyone walking by was too. Still, of all those still putting contracts out the Merchant's guild was one of the few organisations that wasn't swimming in the sea of filth that coated the corrupt Justicars and so if she wanted the resources to further her campaign this was the best place to dip her toes into the water.

_Wow, Mixing metaphor's this much already. Get your head in the game Oracle._

Neuroses aside, she was here now and knew what she had to do. Cooly regarding the two other figures here she continued on her forward path. She gave look to the poor soul slumped over and drunk, but moved her eyes away from them quickly. She instead first looked to the other mercenaries moving in with her and then to one of the guildmembers who resembled guards. She looked to them as she approached the guildhouse, and sent Juluis, her familiar off from his position huddled at her side to flitter around the guild hall and keep an ear out for danger. Then, assuming no guards objected, she pushed open the door and entered, scanning the room for any sign of Lucuis Fox.

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## Molan

When the party approached the Guild House, none of the men outside paid you much mind. As Kate and Barbara entered the Guildhouse, they came face to face with Lord Fox; he was dressed in high quality but well-used and utilitarian clothes; a heavy coat to keep out the cold, a thick layered tunic, sturdy breaches and strong boots. He was clearly highborn; he carried himself nobly and moved with the relaxed ease of a person who's used to owning the ground he walks on. And yet he's also sort of worn down and tired; thick laugh lines crease his face, his hair is gray and his hands looked rough and weathered. Highborn or not, this is a man who's been through his fair share of troubles. 

Despite the drab and unpleasant surroundings and his tired looking mannerisms, he greeted the party with something approaching a wry smile and a cunning gleam in his eye.

"*Ah, thank the True Twelve, company's here.*" he said as Kate's armored form occupied the doorway. He was busy pouring tea into an old brass cup on his desk. "*I'd almost given up hope.*"

He quickly turned back towards the doorway towards Barbara.

"*And hello to you as well my dear; apologies but do my old eyes deceive me? Has Lady Gordon herself come to visit our humble guild house? To what do we owe the pleasure?*"

Having delivered the formality of addressing the daughter of the Marshall of the Justicars directly, the Guildmaster leaned back against a long desk which faced the entryway. The desk was about two yards inside from the entryway, and the party was still standing more or less in the threshold of the door. Fox didn't you to come in or take a seat, so the exchange felt a bit awkward, even tense. His manner left the impression that he didn't fully trust his new visitors, at least not yet.. 

And yet despite that sense of latent tension, Fox seems amiable, even sympathetic; you can't really trust anyone in Gotham, and judging from the sorry state of affairs you found the docklands to be in, Master Fox seems just as vulnerable to being robbed by his hired help as he would be from the thugs and brigands he's paying you to stop.

*Spoiler: Stephanie*
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Since the rest of the team presumably walked to the Guildhouse, I'll finish you out here.

The dock drunkard lights up when you approached, a bit dazed and confused but pleased all the same. He's delirious from the substances he'd been abusing but seems either happy to view a friendly face or surprised that a beautiful woman appeared out of nowhere in front of him on a night like this.

He slurs his words, but you're able to mostly make out: "*Ho! Name's Mulk lass. Wassa fine piece like you doin' at the docks after moonrise?*"


*Spoiler: Party*
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You are all entitled to spot and listen checks.

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## JbeJ275

Well, that's an hour of my life making this ridiculous costume I'm never going to get back.

Answered Barbara, pulling back her cowl and letting her distinctive long red hair unfurl a little, though it remained pinned up.

I'm here for the same reason others are, I should imagine. The posting about some form of investigation or mercenary work. For all the issues the Guild has faced both in terms of its enemies and its absent sponsor it's one of the last reputable places in the city. If you're the one's offering money I'll have little reason to fear that I might regret taking it. What is this job anyway?

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show

 
Spot: (1d20)[*17*]
Listen: (1d20+8)[*18*]

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## Feathersnow

Kate tries to hide her surprise that someone she knew being here.
"I've come to clean up."

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## hand ax ranger

The one wearing the high quality chain shirt a dark red helm finally spoke up, having trailed behind a bit to let the two expose any ambush so that he could counter it. On his belt hung tow masterfully made war-hammers, an odd choice for one who skulks about in the shadows only until they see the Red hood fight. He crouches on on the the crate which he's leap up on and looks down at the three.

"I've honestly got nothing more to add to what she said except that I second it. What's the job then?"

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
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Stephanie's eyes glittered for her mirth, unsurprised he couldnt piece together the obvious as smoke wafted off the cigarette, ambivalent in the wind. She made no attempt to draw his attention to the weaponry at her hips. Its a mystery. Her shrug came easy as two others strolled by, both armed and purposefully masked. _That makes three. Throw in the guards, and the odds are ours._ Taking a look around the dock to spot and listen out for any nearby dock worker she could enlist to help Mulk to his feet, she offered her hand all the same, palm up. Less a handshake as an invitation to rise. 

But while Im around, Mulk, Ive heard a nasty little rumour the Guild Master really should hear. Says a hits coming tonight. Care to walk a girl to safety? 


*Spoiler: Spot and Listen*
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Take 10 on both for now. Result of 16 for both.

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## Molan

***INSIDE THE GUILDHOUSE***

Lucius claps his hands and rubs them together.

"*Alright, excellent. Allow me to explain. To make a long story short, we've been having some trouble down at the docks. Shipments have gone missing, workers have been harassed, and last month one of our guards disappeared. I can't stay in business if I can't keep the docks secure at night, and I can't get sellswords to work here in the evenings anymore.*"

Lucius shakes his head. "*These slums didn't always used to be this bad; back when the Waynes were in power they took good care of Fort Clinton. But these days, folks are getting desperate. The Justicars are usually out in force during the day...but at night...*" he shakes his head again.

"*Anyway, here's the job. I need you all to patrol the docks at night. You're not just here as a deterrent though; I need people here who are either tough, stupid or crazy enough to actually go looking for trouble. There's next to zero chance that the folks who've been harassing our operation are done with us. I need you to find the people who're doing this. I need you to stop them. But! Most important of all, I need you to find out who's been behind the attacks.

If you walk the docks at night, it's only a matter of time before our attackers show back up. Could be today, could be next week. When they do, it's not enough that you chase them off; I need to know who's been giving the orders to attack the Merchant's guild. There's money in it for you; a hundred gold for every thief you capture...or I suppose...scalp you take, if it comes to that. Plus a hundred gold per night, split four ways just for your time.*"

Lucius tosses a coin pouch to Barbara as he speaks, to pay them and also to underscore the point.

"*If of course you do find the evidence I need to figure out who's been ordering the attacks on the docks, I'll pay you four thousand to split, plus potentially an opportunity for a second contract after after that, if you're up for it.*"

Having made his pitch, Lucius stood up and strolled around his desk, sitting down behind it and looking over his papers.

"*Now I've got to tell you, times have been tough for us. This is all the money I can afford to pay you for this job, so I'm not going to be able to negotiate. But if you all pull this off and our shipments are able to move in and out of the docks unmolested again, there'll be plenty more where this came from. So.*"

He leans back in his chair and fixes you with an even stare. "*Do we have a deal?*"

*Spoiler: Party*
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So, I forgot. Anyone who's walked into the guildhouse can retroactively make a trapfinding check. Sorry I forgot to bring that up.

You're also free to toss out any Knowledge or Sense Motive checks you'd like. Otherwise, Lucius awaits your response.


*Spoiler: Jason*
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*Spot:*You do not spot anything out of the ordinary.
*Listen*: Besides the conversation with Lucius, you can hear the gentle lapping of water under the docks beneath the Guild House. Outside, you can hear the two Merchant Guild guards who were watching the front door having a low conversation; "*...Old Fox really think he can buy his way out of this one?*" "*No one's gonna risk they're necks for this dump when Zucco's boys show up.*" "*You think when this falls through Fox'll wise up and get the hell out of here?*" "*Hell no man. He thinks the Dark Knight's gonna come save him.*" They both snicker.


*Spoiler: Kate*
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*Spot:*The Guild House is a long building, and though most of the lanterns are no longer lit, you can see that it stretches back more than fifty yards from the doorway. It's filled with bookshelves packed with scrolls and ledges, and various crates, barrels and boxes fill the empty corners of the space, along with a series of desks where the Guild's ledger men clearly work.

Off to the right, behind one of the bookshelves, you can see the shadowy outline of a slender figure leaning against the corner of the shelf and the wall. Whoever it is is deathly still and the corner the figure occupies is so dark you barely noticed them hiding there at all. The figure is humanoid, and whoever it is isn't crouching or lurking but sort of casually blending into the gloom. You can't tell if they're watching you, but they're definitely listening.

Behind Master Fox, lying on the desk he's leaning on, you can see what looks like an elaborate light repeating crossbow, covered in eldritch runes. A tool for self defense, perhaps? Most of the rest of the items on the desk are papers and books, but there are two other heavier objects besides the crossbow; a lit candlestick and a black marble statuette of a knight.

*Listen:* Besides the conversation with Lucius, you can hear the gentle lapping of water under the docks beneath the Guild House. Outside, you can hear the two Merchant Guild guards who were watching the front door having a low conversation; "...Old Fox really think he can buy his way out of this one?" "No one's gonna risk they're necks for this dump when Zucco's boys show up." "You think when this falls through Fox'll wise up and get the hell out of here?" "Hell no man. He thinks the Dark Knight's gonna come save him." They both snicker.


*Spoiler: Stephanie*
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Mulk shakes his head. "*Thassa pass fer me lass. E'rybody says Zucco's got it out for Old Fox. Only thing I'm here t'do is drink n'smoke till morning shift. By the time the new bosses take over, hopefully they'll still need dock hands 'round here. Hangin' out w' Fox's friends just mean I'll be dead or out of work by that time. But, if'n ye've got any sense, yer free to stay here and drink w'old Mulk. Keep us both out of trouble then eh?*"

Mulk takes another long drag of devilweed, holding it in his chest for a few moments before letting a noxious green cloud sputter out of his nostrils. He continues to lean back on his makeshift seat, apparently without a care in the world.

*Listen:* You don't hear anything out of the ordinary other than some muttering from the guards near the Guildhouse and the light lapping of the water against the docks.

*Spot:* You don't detect anything out of the ordinary.

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## JbeJ275

Barbara waits for a few moments, tuned into her empethatic bond and feeling for any sign of panic or things being drastically wrong in one way or another from her familiar as it finishes scanning the outside of the warehouse and flitters back to her side. Assuming this gives her no reason to panic, she checks the contents of the pouch assuming that too is above board she replies.

Straightforward, I appreciate it. I'll take this offer. What kind of evidence would you be looking for? Is divining the thoughts from those we capture enough or are you looking for more physical evidence?

*Spoiler: OOC*
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Trapfinding: (1d20+13)[*23*]

For my familiar stuff bat's have the following:

Blindsense (Ex)

A bat notices and locates creatures within 20 feet. Opponents still have 100% concealment against a creature with blindsense. 

Though any information would have to be filtered through the general spectrum of empethatic bond if an army of criminals is currently surrounding the place that should still flag as danger and give me some warning.

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
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The bag is not suspect; it appears to be a down payment, with 500gp inside.


Lucius nodded. "*Fair question. You take a patrol down these docks you'll see all kinds of strange and unsavory folk clambering about. But I'm being cryptic; the people who are out to bring down our organization are casing the docks constantly. There's a million ways in and out of this area. If they find any of our College cargo, it's over. And that's all assuming they don't figure out how poorly manned I am at night.

If you find informants to question out on the docks, we'll have a way better idea of who we're up against, and what to do about it. But if you find anyone trying to lift our products...all the better. Anyway, you can try using magic or other means to skim surface thoughts but I'm willing to be you won't find the goods I need. We need information we can bring to the Justicars...or at least a specific enemy we can lash out at. 

Either way, I'm confident you'll find something.*"

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Julius returns to you, generally calm. There's no one and nothing surrounding the building, though you can tell he managed to snack on a few unfortunate bugs on his way around the guildhouse. He's contented, and that makes you feel a bit better.

*Trapfinding:* The room is trapped. The entire entryway inside the door is actually a trapdoor; it's about 10' wide and 15' long, and it appears to separate in the middle. All four of you are standing on the trap door; it appears to be some sort of defensive arrangement. If the trap is triggered, any unwelcome intruders standing in the threshold will likely be dumped straight into the Gotham River beneath the docks. You cannot see any obvious mechanisms to activate or disarm the trap, though you suspect it could potentially be jammed shut if you were able to shove something in between the two sides of the door, given how tight the seams are. But with Lucius staring directly at you, there's no way to surreptitiously attempt to manipulate or sabotage the device.

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## Feathersnow

"I stand ready.  Tell me, though,  some of your men seem to think  it is 'Zucco'. Can you tell me anything about this personage?"

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



_Ew._

Tempting. Stephanie withdrew her hand reluctantly. Her gaze swept over the battered front of the sagging Guild House again, reminded then it wasn't simply a massive legal fence for everyday goods, as one of the few ways a Gothamite could still stay out of the total control of local crime lords. The brooding clouds overhead barely revealed the tip of a crescent moon, a dagger yet fully revealed. She reconsidered the dock hand coolly. 

Tell ya what, Mulk. Youre not the only one that needs a day job, and even most Watchmen are already in someone elses pocket. Smart money says the Baron already has a few insiders to help the transaction along, right? You point one out to me, and Ill see if I can maybe get in on the action tonight. Then well have plenty of time to safely make plans tomorrow. 
 

*Spoiler: Bluff, Knowledge: Local, old Gather Information check*
Show

Take 10 on Bluff that Im interested in taking any job, like helping Zucco take over. Result 24. 

Take 10 on K:Local so I can confirm I know things about Zucco...and didn't just metagame that he's called the Baron.  :Small Tongue: 

Also, there was a Gather Information check I "so totally did" in the hours before this to try and piece together who's attacking tonight/how. Result 25. But like I said then, if the result cuts down on the fun of it all, then we'll say it didn't give any useful info other than "yes, an attack is coming specifically tonight".

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## Molan

***INSIDE THE GUILDHOUSE***

Lucius smiled. "*Ah, you mean "Baron" Zucco. He's the current Boss of the Dark Market. Interesting idea, that the Market might be trying to push in on us. See, the Dark Market primarily deal in contraband, drug trafficking, prostitution, fencing and smuggling. They're a real class act. They have a huge network of fences and street thugs running protection rackets. Thing is, few years back, the Dark Knight actually apprehended Zucco and turned him over to the Justicars -- he was supposed to be rotting in the Dungeons under Blackgate Fortress for thirty years.*"

The guildmaster sighed, taking a long sip of his tea and leaning back in his old wooden chair. 

"*At least, that shoulda been what happened. No, instead a few of the other noble houses started angling for advantages after most of the Dents were killed off. It's impolite to say this, but a lot of folks believe that more than a few of our high lords have business dealings on the wrong side of the Justicars. Anyway, long story short, Zucco was released, and he's back in charge of the Market. But, in his absence, the Market lost most of their territory in Midtown. The Bards say the Dark Knight cleared em out; House James says it was the Justicars. But most of my informants tell me the majority of their territory in Midtown was taken over by the Thieves Guild.*"

Lucius shrugged walking back around the table. 

"*So. Could Zucco be after this next shipment? Maybe. Maybe taking me out's how he sees himself getting back into Midtown. Or, maybe it's got nothing to do with Zucco and all and all that was just a rumor. There's only one way to find out -- we need to track down some of the bastards who're spying on my docks, robbing my ships and disappearing my men, and squeeze em for answers.*"

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

*Spoiler: Gather Information*
Show

Gather Information reveals a swirl of rumors about the docks. Lots of people in the Fort Clinton slums around the docks have competing speculation around who's been targeting them, but the extra noise and chatter has made it difficult for you to determine which lead to follow. Some people say it's the Dark Market trying to push back into Midtown, other say the Thieves Guild was paid off to cause trouble for Fox and his people. You can't be sure, but one factoid stands out; Zucco has only been out of the dungeons fairly recently after the Dark Knight put him away and cost him his territories in Midtown. Some people wonder if he'd have the stones to try something risky again so soon. The experience was said to have rattled him.

However, you were able to confirm one thing; their _is_ a hit coming -- and it's coming *tonight.* People have been talking about staying away from the docks. Apparently, whatever Lucius' men have been loading onto their last few ships is incredibly valuable, and tomorrow morning, that precious cargo will have sailed off onto the Gotham River and away towards the sea. Whoever's coming has to make their move today.


Mulk chuckles a bit, nodding his head and smiling as though the two of you are now in on a little secret. Over near the Guildhouse, two of the guards are still playing cards, but two others have begun to wander off. One heads southeast, the other, northwest.

Mulk points at the northwest guard as he slowly fades into the night.

"*Iunno about Zucco,*" he stuttered. "*But Garrel there used to do night patrols with this old retired knight named Torraine. Two days ago Garrel came back.*"

Mulk begins to trail off to sleep, the rum finally beginning to get the better of him.

"*But Torraine didn't. Garrel never said....whahappened....t.......Torraine....*"

After that, the only sound Mulk made were snores.

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
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_So its Zucco or the Thieves Guild tonight, but Zucco might be too rattled to try anything. Maybe the good Baron hired some help? If anyone has an idea_ 

Gently easing the cigarette spewing green from Mulks limp fingers, Stephanie casually flicked it into the nearby waters from the wooden boardwalk. Eyeing her target in the distance, she still half dragged a tarp over the dockhand for a makeshift blanket. That had been her entire vendetta against the drug trade so far: the most miniscule of wins, the barest of warmth, but the body of the matter remained unmoved. With a sigh the torch light went out, and she started to refocus on the guard doing the northwest nightly patrol. Not liking the idea of disappearing like the old knight did, or getting mistaken for a thief just yet, she instead tailed after Garrel from a distance.
 

*Spoiler: Hide and Move Silently*
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 Unsurprisingly, I follow Garret quietly. Both have results of 24.

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## JbeJ275

Barabara nods breifly at the last words from the guildmaster then raises her hood and lowers her mask once more.

"That can be done, I hope to have some raather informative good news to share when we next meet." 

"As for you two." she said turning to the other two mercenaries. "I'll be waiting outside for you to finish your own questions, we'll make our way there together when we're done. And I'd appreciate any indiscretions that occured tonight spread no further than they need to.

With that said she slips just out of the entryway, remaining disguised outside and mentally going through her own information on relevant details to this case.


*Spoiler: OOC*
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What does Barabara know about the normal modus operandi of such harrasers and thieves. Do they send a lot of goons or a few elites, are they heavily armoured brutes or more specialists, will they normally have a leader, do they normally stick around in fights or leave in the face of serious resistance stuff like that which could have been picked up from Justicar reports. 

Knowledge (Local) (I also have history and Nobility if those fit better): (1d20+11)[*14*] 
(I don't think you can normally  take ten on knowledge, tell me if that's different in this campaign but for now I'll roll for the sake of it)

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## Molan

Having consented to the Guildmaster's terms, the three of you head out into the night and begin the task of patrolling the docklands as Lord Fox had asked.



*Spoiler: Inside the Guildhouse*
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Barbara stepped back out into the night, and eventually the rest of the party followed suit. There were only a few men left outside the Guildhouse, even a couple of the last few guards appeared to have wandered off. Looking around, you saw no sign of the woman named "Spoiler" who'd also shown up to take the bounty. Lacking any other good options, you decide to head out without her.

As the evening wears on, and you find yourselves the only souls left on the long, winding warren of the Merchant's Guild docks. As far as mercenary work goes, you can't help but feel a little disappointed. The docks are as quiet as the grave and it's hard not to feel like a job that could just as easily be conducted by a squad of Justicar recruits is beneath you. 

The docks are not a straight, uniform row of piers but instead a jagged, winding and byzantine path along the Gotham River. Some of the piers are long, wide, deep water docks tethering large sailing ships, while others are much smaller. Some of the piers stand taller out of the water than others. In some places, artificial inlets connect the Gotham River's waters to the city's interior and you have to cross short bridges to reach the next section, and everywhere large stacks of barrels or crates obstruct your view, and some parts of the waters edge forms bays and inlets so you can't see very far ahead in most areas as the city juts out in front of you. There are occasional small buildings, shacks, and storage sheds and in several places boats are suspended in dry dock. The entire place is a maze; the only way for you to navigate your way through it is to keep the water on your left so you know you haven't gotten lost.

You keep a weather eye out for any signs that something is out of place, and pay special attention to docked ships, closed warehouses, deeper shadows and dark alleyways, looking for any important clues or signs of shenanigans.

*Spoiler: OOC: Party*
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 Feel free to come up with a strategy or marching order for exploring the docs. You can make checks here at will, and work together to try to track down signs of trouble. A good way to think of this area at this time of night is kind of like an outdoor dungeon.

Hit me up in the OOC thread if you guys have any additional questions or concerns about what to do here.

*Spoiler: Barbara's Knowledge Check*
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The kind of danger you're going to run into depends a lot on who your adversaries are and what they're up to. The Dark Market and Thieves Guild are known for having plenty of sneak thieves and street toughs, but their Captains and Underbosses are usually much tougher, not to be trifled with, and they're more than happy to work alongside magic users or other unsavory types of the opportunity presents itself. Unfortunately, you don't know enough about who's raiding the docks and who might be leading them to be sure what you're up against. You just hope to yourself that it's some low level goons.




*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

You found it easy to trail the guard as he meandered away into the night. He wasn't trying to be particularly quiet or inconspicuous -- he may have just been headed home, but no one was out here to see him anyway, as far as he knew. You kept a moderate but consistent tail, never once arousing his suspicions.

The docks are not a straight, uniform row of piers but instead a jagged, winding and byzantine path along the Gotham River. Some of the piers are long, wide, deep water docks tethering large sailing ships, while others are much smaller. Some of the piers stand taller out of the water than others. Everywhere large stacks of barrels or crates obstruct your view, and some parts of the waters edge forms bays and inlets so you can't see very far ahead in most areas as the city juts out in front of you. There are occasional small buildings, shacks, and storage sheds and in several places boats are suspended in dry dock. The entire place is a maze; the only way for you to navigate your way through it is to keep your eyes on the departing Guard, since he clearly knows the area better than you do.

He walks for some time, and you begin to get frustrated. Just when you were about ready to give up and head back towards the way you came -- paydirt. He stopped about 20 or so yards up ahead of you, and began to talk to an unidentifiable figure, leaning out of the shadows and smoking some kind of cigar. The men's voices are low, but not too low. If you get a bit closer you ought to be able to hear them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's best to think of the area you're in as essentially a kind of outdoor dungeon at this time of night. Normal trappings of civilization are absent, everyone's either asleep or up to no good, and danger lurks around every corner.

You can make a listen check here, or inch a bit closer with move silently then try for an added bonus. Instead of following the path he took you could also Search/Spot for other angles to get a look at him and the person he's talking to. Any other checks you want to take here are okay as well.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



Stephanie felt her head clear for the salty air, willing it to steal away whatever stink the Devilweed had inflicted as she remained Garrels midnight shadow. He unintentionally guided her around the barrels and inlets and shacks like a backalley Sherpa. But when the only thing she didnt start to doubt was that whoever designed the place had obviously done so purely to crank up costs for its construction, he started speaking to a silhouette. She glanced from behind a barrel for a place she could circle around and see who the guard was speaking to, and to better hear. 




*Spoiler: Search, Move Silently, Listen, no Take 10?*
Show

 



> Take 10
> When your character is not being threatened or distracted, you may choose to take 10.


As much as skills are the one thing a natural 1 dont autofail (unless were homebrewing it, which can be fun, but please give me a heads up first?), Ive now wandered into an unfamiliar dungeon solo like any wise player would, and you did say it feels like danger lurks around every corner. And that doesnt sound like a relaxing experience, so I think I have to roll for once. 

Search for a place to see their face: (1d20+10)[*28*] 
Move Silently to hear what theyre saying better: (1d20+14)[*26*]
Listen to what theyre saying (idk what the modifiers are so nothing extra added yet) : (1d20+6)[*11*]
Knowledge: Local. Is the person Garrel is speaking to a local personality I would know? (1d20+10)[*16*]

Also on unrelated notes I bought items that would fit in a utility belt.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara intially attempts to find a choke point that any potential thieves would have to pass through to continue, but is holding out little hope given the twisting weaving nature of the docks. Instead she sends out Juluis to hunt and calls for him to report back if any humanoids other than the present company enter the protected area of the docks, she has some spells to let her locate people but only if they're already known to be present in one form or another.

As they arrive she talks with the others. "So... either of you have any tricks for stakeouts like this? Or do we just stay quiet, keep eyes and ears open and wait until someone takes the bait.

----------


## Feathersnow

"I really have nothing, sorry.  I can hide and move better than you would think,  though."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

You deftly, gracefully moved down a short pathway that the guard had walked before marking his position and cutting around a stack of barrels and ropes and approaching him from a different angle. The shadows cling to you like you were born to them, and you deftly step over puddles and debris to avoid making any sound. After observing the two for a moment, you spot an opportunity; nearby is a huge cargo wagon, uncovered but partially filled with crates. You are able to approach them from behind the wagon, and peering around it you can make out the faces of both men.

The man that Garrel is talking to is wearing basic commoner's clothes, but he looks burly and dirty and sports several ugly scars. His arms are bare, and covered in tattoos. One of them stands out to you from the rest; a key topped with a skull. You don't recognize the man, but you'd know his marking anywhere: it's the sigil of the Thieves Guild.

You're having a bit of trouble hearing them, but you were able to get pretty close, so it's not too hard.

"*...you sure?*" said Garrel.

"*Yea man.....Raam and the.....are already on deck. It's happening.....the hell are you so worried...out?*" the Thieves Guild man replied.

You weren't able to capture every word, but the jist seemed pretty clear.

"*Listen. Fox has brought in....I'm not sure how many but.....They're all armed. At least one of 'em's a wizard.*"

The Thieves Guilder tossed the cigar on the ground and stomped it out.

"*Where are they....*"

"*They were with the old.....I left. They'll be snooping.....ocks by now.*"




*Spoiler: Rest of the Party*
Show

Your party has wound it's way through the warrens and the lights from the Guildhall have long since faded behind you. It's difficult to see much around you; several small boat masts and a few different piles of barrels and debris block a lot of your vision. Ahead of you, you can continue traveling west down the docks in between two rows of staged barrels. To the right, another path opens up along the cobblestones, running in between a nearby warehouse and a few other buildings beyond.

A row of different buildings run along the north side of the docks, opposite the water. They're ramshackle, sometimes lopsided, and all of different heights, but they're jammed together so close it would be fairly easy to move from one rooftop to the other, if necessary.

Up ahead, the docks branch out into the river again and several large multi-pronged piers spread out into the water, and you can see a few different sized ships moored there. The docks are similarly laded with piles of crates and barrels and there are occasional storage sheds puncturing the landscape both on land and over the water. About a hundred yards west, another large warehouse looms right where the river cuts back north, obscuring your view of the next pier. Several other piles of supplies near that warehouse create a sort of choke point before you will be able to round the next bend.

Finally, in between the two warehouses are several tight paths with lots of looming shadows and odd angles; the place is messy to the point of seeming more like a maze then a well ordered industrial center. You don't see any signs of movement -- yet. There's plenty of places to hide.

As you make your way forward, there's the slightest, almost imperceptible flutter and Julius flapped back to Barbara from the dark sky above.

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Julius seems happy -- or, maybe not happy, perhaps excited is a better word. You can't tell exactly what he means, but you're certain he's found people up ahead -- and he knows where they are. His eagerness seems to radiate from having accomplished what you asked of him. He snuggles his ugly bat head against your hood and the faint sound of his subsonic chirping hums in your ear.

----------


## hand ax ranger

Jason looks to Barbra and shakes his head. "Nothing fancy. I was going to find the highest vantage point as try and see them as they crept in, possibly proving overwatch. other than that I ten dot be more proactive. Pulling guard detail isn't really me speed."

With that said he does just that, searching out the best vantage point and scaling up to it.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show



Spot: (1d20+4)[*16*]

Climb: (1d20+6)[*26*]




Assuming this works he'll look out from there and ready his crossbow for the potential to shoot something tonight....

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



Stephanie smiled tightly as the thrill of vindication shot through her even as she crouched  before she looked at her way out. It was the same jumbled pathway of piers and shacks and barrels. The scarred bruiser looked annoyed enough to move his timescale forward long before she could warn anyone, and hunkering down to empty a crossbow quiver into his back when they made their move risked that she wouldnt get taken out by any hidden thugs the Thieves Guild sometimes had crawling around their operations. Her brow furrowed for better options.  She sighed softly. 

Laying her left hand flat over black leather at her chest, the tiniest pinch of a silver hearth answered. _Hey, Estanna? See, what Im about to pull, I swear is to keep that crapshack of a Guilds Hall in business, okay? So if honest work for Gothams families is a thing, or even just getting ya girl back home safe again is, please give me all the protection you can spare. For hearth and home._ Prayer done, she unfurled to her full height with a little stretch and a grunt. Ducking and darting through shadows was nothing but stiff legs and tight spaces. She preferred the confidence game for a reason. 

Perhaps we can make a deal, Stephanie smiled congenially as she half presented herself from behind the wagon, her concealed hand holding a leather back. 

Before you ask, Garrel led me here. Anyway, two of the mercenaries youre worried about? Theyre with me. We trickled in separately to stay low profile. The shipment tomorrow is juicy enough even the wizard wanted in. But right now, we all have the exact same problem. That big stupid knight is definitely not apart of the plan; we didnt dream old man Fox still had the chops to call in that kind of support. She offered a knowing smirk at the slender guard. But rumour has it dear Garrel here knows how to make a knight disappear. So heres the corner of it: The wizard has eyes on me. Safety precaution. You agree to give us, she squinted through her pause then, seemingly gauging the two men. 

Si  seven percent of the cut, with a guaranteed in for me and Red to join the Thieves Guild afterwards. Then we can easily arrange for Red and Garrel to go on _patrol_ with that knight. We confirm our friend has done his best impression of an anchor, I quickly press a knife to the Lord geriatrics neck, and whatever guards pass for his carers realize its a great time to reconsider prospects. You handle heavy lifting, my wizard does appraisals. Simple. Smooth. Solid? 

She arched her brow. 




*Spoiler: Bluff*
Show

 

I tried to make the whole Bluff as believable as possible. 

Bluff: (1d20+14)[*30*]

----------


## JbeJ275

As Juluis returns, Barbara smiles softly and turns to the other two figures.

"I've got a hit that I'm going to check out, keep eyes on me. If I do this." She says holding up the pinky and ring finder of her right hand. "It means these are the sort of people we need to deal with, so you two should follow me over and put them down once I've disabled them. If there's a flash of golden light it means trouble has started ans you should hurry.

With that Barabara begins moving slowly towards the direction her bat indicated, trying to keep out of line of sight from them and move quietly enough to get within range for here to hear them. Ready to divine further details if her initial look pays dividends.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Rolling Move Silently as this seems high pressure in that department
MS: (1d20+10)[*14*]
Listen, gonna take 18. That's enough to hear people whispering at 30ft or a regular thug walking at 80ft.
Hide if I an't stay out of line of sight: (1d20+8)[*16*]

If there seem to be at least four people there and they are genuinly suspicious I'm gonna cast detect thoughts on the group. DC17

----------


## Feathersnow

"I'll get ready" whispers Kate.  She manifests "concealing amorpha" and "urban strider" then readies her dorje to give herself a shield.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Party*
Show

Jason climbed up a nearby supply shed, effortlessly bounding up as though it was almost no effort. From the top of the stack, he could make out what he thought were lights in the distance, but they were further off. It was hard to know what the woman's bat pet had warned them about, and he didn't think it had flown quite that far. Whatever he was looking for must have been closer, but if there were people there he couldn't see them.

Barbara snuck forward, going around and to the side of the shed that Jason had climbed, looking for any signs or disturbances. She didn't hear any loud conversations, but around the next bend she was absolutely _sure_ she could hear at least two people whispering. Someone coughed, quietly enough that they appeared to try to stifle it, but she was sure what she'd heard.

Pleased with what she'd discovered, Barbara cast _detect thoughts_, pinching a copper piece between two fingers with one hand and drawing invisible arcane symbols with the other, all the while chanting the ancient words that would bring the spell forth.

As she focused the spell, she heard a gruff, male voice speak up at normal volume.

"*Hey, someone's over there.*"

*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts*
Show

You get a surprise round of the spell off even before one of your targets figured out you were nearby. You can get through the second round before they walk over and find you, but reaching the third round of the spell will require them to become distracted and look somewhere else.

The first round confirms that their are sentient thoughts in the area.

The second round shows five individual minds are in the spell's area of effect.

I'll leave the decision of whether to keep channeling to round three up to you.



*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

The two men are startled and agitated. Garrell's hand is on the head of the handax at his belt, and the thieves guild bruiser puts his own hand behind his back, but they don't attack you right out of the gates.

"*How the fug did you follow me here!?*" Garrell hissed.

"*Shut up,*" The bruiser snapped. "*That doesn't matter. You guys are trying to get in on the cut, and turn over Old Man Fox? Does Raam know about you? I haven't seen you around Fort Clinton before.*"

Stephanie's hooks were in. She'd need to do a bit more to sell the scam, but the two men hadn't turned and attacked her outright. She just needed to get them to trust her.

----------


## JbeJ275

As Barbara heard the gruff voice she slowly began to retreat, shed not yet had time to reach the interesting details of these thought processes but if they were heading towards someone out here rather than leaving to avoid trouble it was good reason to be suspicious. 

Wordlessly, she repeated the earlier gesture with her left hand, signalling her companions while taking a small strip of leather from her belt and pressing it to her shoulder, watching as it transformed into insubstantial _Mage Armour_.

Then she began to quietly back away, looking for a spot that couldnt be approached without any enemies bunching close to each other, and preferably one with cover from where theyre emerging now.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



A nod answered the questions on payment and the guild master. Stephanie slowly revealed her hidden hand to help sooth tensions, and shook the little leather bag innocently. A small cut, and one that might well fit into this if we dont attend to details, as youre wisely trying to hash out. Raam isnt aware of me, no  an introduction would help ensure theres no extra complications tonight. To his point on Fort Clifton, she shrugged non-committally. Sometimes, it pays not to stand out too much. 

It was then Stephanie finally stepped out from behind the wagon more fully, but made no effort to approach. Anyway, youre both right to be angry. For whatever its worth, I only followed Garrel because I banked heavily he had the expertise and connections needed to pull off something like tonight. So far, youre both exactly what I expected. Names Spoiler. 


 

*Spoiler: On the alias, Diplomacy*
Show



Im guessing as a level 4, even with the Thieves Guild and House Kyle occasionally clashing, the Thieves Guild seem to have a lot of enemies, so its incredibly unlikely hell match the alias up. Now, if this were a narrows Rogue, maybe Id skip the whole alias thing. 

Diplomacy: (1d20+18)[*20*]

----------


## hand ax ranger

From his rooftop vantage point he will peer out and attempt to see through the night to discern what's out there, keeping his crossbow ready to unleasha  bolt into the first intruder he see with intent to wound for capture.

*Spoiler: Spot*
Show


(1d20+4)[*13*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Party*
Show

Barbara crept back into a nook between the shed and the barrels piled next to it, so that Jason was perched slightly above her, Kate standing at the ready behind and off to her left, and the man coming her direction was coming from the front, around the side of the shed. Jason was unable to see the thug until the last second, when he rounded the corner.

The man was a half orc; he sported long black hair, had a light wooden spiked shield strapped to one arm and a handaxe readied in the other. He wore rough looking hide armor, and was covered in angry looking, crude tattoos.

But when he came around the side of the shed, he didn't see anyone. He peered out, looking curious and suspicious into the night, but he failed to notice Barbara, only a few feet to his left, or Kate, just ahead of him but tucked behind cover, or Jason, who loomed unseen above him from the roof of the shed.

From somewhere behind him, a voice called out in a strained "whisper".

"*Yo Dench, what is it? Anyone out there?*"

*Spoiler: Checks and Actions*
Show

You can take any actions you want, but you're entitled to one additional round of spot and listen checks at this time.



*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

The thugs still look nervous, maybe even hostile...but their guard is lowering. Garrel sighs and holds out his hand, prompting Spoiler to toss the coin purse into it. As he does so, the other man asks, tentatively but interested; "*You can show us where the other mercs are? Help us bring the armored one to Raam, we'll cut you in.*"

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



Stephanies blue eyes sparkled with mischief, but instead wagged a finger with the hand that gently clutched the bag. Uh-uh. Youre supposed to be making me richer, remember? She lowered her hand to slowly replace the contents into the side of the purple utility deftly, making sure not to rattle the would-be coin purse. _The more you doubt the story, the more theyll doubt the story._ Cyrrus words gonged in her head like the Gotham Clock Tower, but ignored it. They started to trust her, and she always had the acid test to cinch it later. 

Yeah, no big. The mercenary answered the guy in charge, and jerked her head back to indicate the way they came. She half turned to see if they intended to follow. The farther out of this warren she could get them, the greater the likelihood they wouldnt get away. Though the whole thing would be a lot faster if one of you leads the way instead. But, boss, if youre coming with, you probably wanna wear something a little more...appropriate to the workplace. She pointed at his exposed skull and key tattoo.


 

*Spoiler: Knowledge: Local.*
Show


It was implied in the last text theyre keen to meet the other mercenaries, or something. So Im guessing I dont need to actually roll anything special to get us moving. But...

Knowledge: Local to see if I know any customs/traditions for the Fort Clinton/Thieves Guild area. Specifically some that might help ease the obvious Guilder a little more. The Diplomacy check got them neutral (?) so now its the old fashioned way of building trust with little things. (1d20+10)[*30*]

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show


Garrel withdraws his hand in with a sour expression on his face and shrugs at both of you.

*Fine. Let's just go to the water. You lead us to the other mercs we'll lead you to Raam and the crew.*"

The second man followed him, looking at Spoiler with a smirk in his face and seeming to flex his bicep a bit so that he brandished the illicit guild tattoo even more. It seemed like gangland posturing, as if to say, "_The law's got nothing on me, this is my town._"

But to Stephanie, all he said was, "*Take your time, eh toots?*"

The two of them started walking along with Spoiler back towards the waterline.
*Spoiler: Knowledge Local*
Show

 The Thieves Guild is a massive, far flung organization with chapters all throughout the Empire and beyond. The individual thieves guild chapters are largely independent of each other and have their own territories and operations, but they share some universal customs and avoid infighting with each other where possible. Gotham's Thieves Guild is said to operate on every island, but their presence is strongest in Midtown, where you are now.

Midtown is the centermost of Gotham's three largest, principle islands, and it's divided into a number of neighborhoods. Fort Clinton, the neighborhood where the Merchant's Guild docks are located, is a poor slum, and therefore dangerous and a prime territory for a criminal organization like the Thieves Guild.

The Gotham City Thieves Guild chapter has a Boss, who's name and identity is a mystery to most people. You never got far enough in with them to learn who he is. What you do know is that under the boss are as many as 6-7 underbosses who cut up the rest of the massive metropolis, mostly by Island. Below the Underbosses are the Captains, and each Captain runs either a crew or a "store", hideaways used to store goods, conduct planning and operations, relax, and most of all, buy and sell stolen and illegal goods.

Raam is the thieves guild captain of Fort Clinton. His Underboss is a man named Kysel.

But perhaps most significant of all is your knowledge of thieves guild customs, and it's about to save your life. There is a loose, casual, "in-crowd" call and response custom between Thieves Guild members and their associates. The greeting goes:

"*Take your time.*" and the required response is, "*Steal them blind.*" 

Responding to the call words is generally a way to let a guilder know you're "cool", and can at least be somewhat assumed to be trustworthy. It's not a perfect system; the call and response is widely known in places where the Guild operates. But _ failing_  to reply correctly, even or especially if the call is given in the casual, offhand manner the guilder just used it, means that you are absolutely *not* cool, and the guilder would likely react with extreme hostility.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate channels her psionic powers and attempts to daze the lone orc!

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



Steal em blind, Stephanie replied breezily, interlinking her fingers in an overhead stretch. She owed Haley and her entire web of whispers whatever they wanted when she got back. Really, boss. Here I take the time to stalk your man through the dark to your secret meet and cut a last-second deal on a job you worked over a week to make air-tight, and suddenly you act like you dont trust me. She tsked. 

_Cant claim its all roses on my end, either._ 

Stephanie mindfully walked beside one of them on their trek back, but always on the out skirt and never between the two. The con was going well, given she was operating solo and had thought through the long term of it about as a well as a Narrow rogue. The nearby stink of a pile of rotting fish made her near nostalgic for the Devilweed she had left behind. 

Look, I get it. My...initiative...isnt everyones style, and the last thing Raam needs is some nobody trying to get in on a delicate operation. But if you grow up on the streets like I have, then you have to decide between risk or remorse. Steal or starve. We all have. She cracked her neck. It turned out that manipulating potentially violent criminals made her more tense that she initially realized. How long have you guys been doing this kind of thing? Any plans for your cut at the end of this one?  


 

*Spoiler: About that Knowledge: Local.*
Show



 :Small Eek: !

Really Glad that score was so ridiculously high.and that I actually read it before replying. 

Also, Im loving how in depth you made the whole setting, Molan. It makes it more fun to have options to try out.  :Small Big Grin:

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: The Party*
Show

The half-orc "Dench" walks out from behind the shed, and Barbara slinks back into the shadows of the crates and barrels near the shed. Jason looms, unseen overhead, and not far away Kate stands ready to pounce.

Barbara's spell slowly reaches its conclusion, scraping off the surface thoughts of Dench and the other men nearby. Dench snorted, shaking his head, and began to move like he was going to walk back towards his group.

Before he could turn back, Kate stepped out from her hiding spot. Tension built in the air, and the party could feel a sense of vertigo as Kate surged with wild, intense psionic energy. There was a slight "popping" sensation and the psionic power struck Dench, dazing him and knocking him still.

*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts*
Show


1. Before Kate stepped out and knocked him temporarily senseless, Dench was irritated, but suspicious. He'd been dwelling on himself and his boredom until he'd heard Barbara chanting. He was frustrated that he and his crew had been put on guard duty when the rest of Raam's crew were aboard the "_Chraal_".

2. A second man was also sulking about being put on guard duty, and was board. But this man also doesn't trust his compatriots very much either, and think's "Raam" is an idiot for keeping them around. 

3. A third man has been uncomfortably waiting for a while, out of sight of his comrades. After they heard your chanting, he stayed quiet and out of sight, waiting to see if any potential victims came through their chokepoint. He was eager to hurt someone, and unlike his fellows, hoped that someone would come by to hurt. When they heard your chanting, he hoped Dench failed to come back; you get chills from this man's mind. He doesn't appear to feel emotions the way you do, and is more obsessively interested in seeing things bleed -- whether or not those things are his fellows.

4. There's a fourth mind too, and this one was particularly agitated. He didn't want to be there but wasn't particularly interested in helping Raam or the other men out with their task. He was mostly just cold, and was obsessed with finding a way to turn Raam's raid into profit and benefit for himself. He'd sell his compatriots down river in a heartbeat, and was actively considering ways to do so.

----------


## hand ax ranger

Red hood will watch form his vantage point to see if this escalates further. assuming more poured out fo the woodwork he'd put a bolt in one and go after the rest with the hammers.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate steps out and attempts to wallop the half-orc with the side of her poleaxe.
*Spoiler:  attack*
Show


(1d20+5)[*13*] to hit
 this counts both the -4 for doing subdual damage with a lethal weapon and the +2 for the Wilder surge

if successfull (2d6+4)[*10*] damage

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Garrel growled, and replied in an overly deadpan manner.

"*Don't know what you mean, I'm an upstanding professional docks guard working for the Guild of Merchants.*"

The thieves guild tough walking with the snorted in laughter. 

"*Garrel here's a bit pissy because he's spent too much time working for losers and highborns and he can't get accepted into any legitimate organizations.*"

"*Pfffft. Yea, because squeezing old ladies for their life savings and knocking over House Tetch gold wagons is so fuggin' glamorous.*"

The guilder chuckled, unperturbed. 

"*And yet here you are, helpin' us pinch old Fox's last pennies out of this place before we dump his body in a river.*"

Garrel shrugged. 

"*I gotta get paid somehow. Plus I'm not goin' out like Torraine.*"

"*I don't you man, that wasn't us.*"

"*Right, sure. I forgot. He was eaten by a giant 'bat monster'.*"

"*Look man, you can crap talk it all you want, but I'm telling you that thing is out there.*"

"*Right. Right. For years some lunatic noble in black armor and bat sigils runs around the city cutting up morons like you, and now a mysterious, hideous bat-looking monster is swooping around at night gobbling folks. It's definitely not just the bloody Dark Knight.*"

"*You can naysay it all you want,*" the guilder replied. "*But you and I both know Torraine wasn't dirty. We tried to flip him against Fox a dozen of times. Dimble and Gohl even went to his apartment. But he never flipped. The Dark Knight only attacks criminals. Face it bud; something killed him, and it wasn't him.*"

As the two finished their impromptu conversation, you near the waterfront. Somewhere nearby, you thought you hear someone whispering...or chanting.

*Spoiler: Checks*
Show

Make spot and listen checks. Your move!

----------


## Molan

Kate's halberd smacks Dench across the side of the head; neither his shield nor any reflexes he might have had avail him, being ambushed like that. The halberd strikes true but fails to knock the half orc out.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show



Stephanie hide her intrigue behind half bored glances when they started talking about the missing knight, but didnt catch herself from an eye roll when they mentioned a giant bat monster. _The single dumbest alibi I have ever heard in my entire life._ A flock of bats screeched their protest from far across the night sky, wheeling towards Uptown, but even at a squint, none of them looked the size of a wagon with wings, and she had never seen a single dire bat despite stealing in Gotham her entire life. _Just let them keep talking. The less I have to say, the more this hustle works._ Then they stopped but a quiet muttering carried on into the quiet. Memories of the Mages College made her tense, and she scanned her surroundings suspiciously. 


 

*Spoiler: Total defence? Take 10 into eternity?*
Show



Theres at least one wizard, and I would prefer not to get hit by a spell. 

Total defence AC, if possible: 23 (with uncanny dodge and +2 from Tumble). 

Otherwise, back near the waterfront and out of the outside dungeon? Its time for Take 10.  :Small Smile:  
Take 10 Spot: 16.
Take 10 Listen: 16.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara springs forward from her crouching position, trying to move to surround the half orc and bring her sap down over his head.

*Spoiler: Rolls:*
Show


Hit: (1d20+5)[*10*]
(-2AC for me)
Damage: (2d6-1)[*8*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: The Party*
Show

Barbara's swing missed; the half orc was too big and his shield side was facing Barbara, giving her a difficult angle to strike his head. He blinked, staggered and hurt, as he tried to recover from the _daze_.

Around the corner you can hear someone suddenly say, "*What the hell was that?*" followed by the sound of footsteps.


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Stephanie hears a noise from over the next stack of crates, nearer to the water. Garrel and the thief heard it too. Abruptly, someone calls out, "*What the hell was that?*"

Garrel draws his handaxe, and the thief draws a long knife from his belt. 

"*That's Renk and Dench.*"

"*Sounds like trouble.*" Garrel replied.

"*Come on,*" the thief snarled. He looked at Stephanie. "*You too. Let's go see what's going on.*"

*Spoiler: Checks*
Show

You've already got your listen result. Spot check failed to reveal anything pertinent.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara moves forward past the dazed half orc to the corner, and readies a handful of dyed powders in her off hand, preparing to unleash a _Colour Spray_ on the thugs as they round this corner to buy time for those behind her to finish off their previous oponent. 


*Spoiler*
Show


Will save DC 17, effect is HD dependent found here: https://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/colorSpray.htm

----------


## Molan

Two more thugs round the corner. One's a human carrying a pair of punching daggers at the ready, and not far behind him is a half elf wearing brigantine and carrying a bow.

They barely had time to register Kate's dark, looming armored presence before they were blasted with a burst of color from Barbara's spell. A prismatic cone splashed outward from the shadows where she was hiding, catching Dench at one extreme limit of it's reach and the half elf at the other, with the human caught in the middle.

The spell is a spectacular success -- none of the thugs manage to resist it. Their weapons clattered to the ground, and they cursed and yelped and wretched as the arcane energy stunned and blinded them. In a flash, Barbara had temporarily incapacitated the entire group.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate realizes they are probably not going to be able to end this the easy way and uses the opportunity to activate her dorje.
A fluttering bat of ectoplasm emerges, acting as a shield.

----------


## JbeJ275

We've got maybe twenty seconds to put them down, then we need to look for the _Chraal_. That's where there boss is, strike fast as you can. One more guy was with them, but he might have fled.

While quickly passing information on to her teammates Barabara reached once more for her sap, charging at the human, judging a bow easier to kick aside than daggers if it came down to it. 

Sap:
[roll1d20+3[/roll]
(2d6-1)[*3*] Nonlethal

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate begins a grapple of the helpless half-orc.

(1d20+3)[*15*]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie nodded sharply at the order, knowing it had to be the thieves tussling with Foxs forces. Popping a gloved hand into the front of her belt, she indulged in the smooth stone between her fingers. She would attempt salvaging the con long enough to disrupt the Thieves Guild across all Midtown, or ensure someone got an earful for screwing it up. The two thugs advance ahead of her, only to be completely engulfed in a twisting psychedelia cone of light and noise. They were left on the floor groaning and disorientated. Her jaw gapped at the power display. 

_No thunderstone did that._ 

Big picture, people! Big. Picture. Spoiler poked her head around the corner, putting the little pebble away to stab her sai accusingly at the back of the muscular, scarred man first, his axe wielding associate second, then herself finally. Hes our contact, Garrels a guard, and I got us a meet with the big guy running all Middtown! Raams here, and damn sure leaves if we off his crew! 

*Spoiler: Bluff: Secret Message To All PCs*
Show



DC 15 gets a basic message across. DC 20 a complex one. But were technically in combat now, so I cant just take 10, although Im guaranteed to get a basic message across at least.

Bluff: (1d20+14)[*33*]

*Simple Message*: Thieves Guild guy, Garrels guilty, Raam elusive. 

*Complex Message*: We can completely disrupt the Thieves Guild in all Middtown, tonight, if we let them lead us to Raam. 

You three basically just won the fight, so its kinda in your hands what you want.  :Small Big Grin:

----------


## JbeJ275

With the interruption, Barbara turned on her heel towards the new face. Then quickly stilled as new secretive information was carefully and quickly decoded. While sliding over to pick up the dropped weapons from the stunned thugs she retorted at the new figure.

I know Raam doesn't have the most professional outfit on this coast, but if this is who you spoke about working with we're gonna have our share of issues. Sulky brats and rabid dogs, I hope whoever we're meeting next isn't the sort to end up blind, divested of thier weapons and smelling faintly of urine within ten seconds of a fight starting or this is gonna be more work than most of this type can afford. But you've been competent enough so far so I'll let you lead the way. 

Speaking of which.... _Selavish Nayta Pyrin._
 Barbara intones in time with the blindness fading, hopefully giving an impression of much more skill with the arcane than she currently possesses.

----------


## Feathersnow

Without missing a beat, Kate drops Dench and falls into line behind Barbara.

----------


## hand ax ranger

Jason will move in on Barbara seeing as they solved the issue thus far, having no further comment on the situation. He does remain ready for more of the punks to pop out so he could put theses hammers to work.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

_Oh, shes good._ 

Relief registered on the vigilantes face when they agreed, before Spoilers brows furrowed at how the slender woman in a bat mask took to the con like a knife to an artery. The capped costume might even have looked cute if she wasnt strolling about the disabled thugs and collecting their weapons like an annoyed older sister cleaning up after her bratty little brothers. The towering mountain of steel fell in line with the mage, silent, the pike in his hand a silent promise of violence. 

_Really good. See, this is exactly why people join gangs. I was so busy conning the Thieves Guild I didnt think who Id actually need to clinch it. Cyrrus, Ill never doubt you again._ 

Spoiler took dainty steps around the site of the skirmish. She faced the two men that had went ahead of her. Boss, sorry about this huge screw up. We heard the Kyle gang might make a move tonight, so everyones on edge. Hard to tell who the hell is who in the dark. She turned briefly to the dark steel mountain, and her left hand deliberately rubbed the sheathed edge of her dagger and stared directly into the visor. Glancing down where the taken weapons were not too long ago, she continued calmly. Not sure why Sir Knight has thrown in with us, but it's still going to plan. _Batgirl_ getting up her loins aside. Anyway, we just made a **** ton of noise, and Garrel's the only one that has sway with the other guards. You think you can put them at ease? My crew can make up for this. Do the heavy lifting. 

Spoiler had no idea what it was like being in the middle of that rainbow burst, but she didnt envy the three that went through it. She frowned at the tattooed man despite it being covered by the mask. Even take a smaller cut than mentioned. We still good for Raam? Every hustle had its risks.

*Spoiler: Bluff to Knight In Armor, Sense Motive, Move Actions*
Show



1) Move action to stand before Garrel/Thief Guild Guy. Preferably between the muscly guy and our mage, just in case. I can technically draw a sai during.

2) Free action ask Garrel to both cover for us and relax playing cards with the guards. Keep the alarm low.

3) Standard action total defence. AC 23.

Bluff to Knight in Brooding Armor: A 15 is guaranteed, so Ill Simple Message this: Hidden danger. They want you. 

Sense Motive Knight in Brooding Armor: (1d20+6)[*24*]
Sense Motive Dangerous Girl In Cute Mask: (1d20+6)[*12*]

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara continued letting her bored expression saturate her face as these new arrivals filtered in and found their feet. Waiting for her divinations to reveal all they could rather than risking anything by opening her mouth too early. Still, knowing at least one more of these thugs was out there she sent a mental signal to her familar. _Find the one that's missing._ Then refocused on those in front of her.

She and I have an accord on this and she's always played it straight before. She said her eyes indicating Spoiler as the relevant target of her trust. Though learning that this... miscommunication was allowed in hardly endearing, she still speaks for me in this place. So then, shall we go speak to Raam and try not to waste to much more of tonight on needless confusion. Where re we heading off to?




*Spoiler: OOC: To Kate*
Show


Taking 10 on bluff to pass to Kate.

This one (Spoiler) is on the same side as us. Are you capable of some careful deciet?

----------


## Feathersnow

The grim figure nods once and gestures for the others to lead the way.

----------


## Molan

Garrel looked eager to leave. Whatever the thieves had been doing waiting along the docks, this whole thing had turned into more of a mess then he'd been interested in signing up for. 

"*I'll go make sure no one heads over this way,*" he mumbled. "*just uh...try to keep it the fug down will you?*" 

The thief who'd walked there with Garrel and Stephanie sucked in air over his teeth and shook his head. 

"*You're useless you know that?*"

Garrel snorted. "*I don't need this crap. Good luck idiots.*"

Garrel marched back east towards the Guildhouse.

Meanwhile, the energies from Barbara's spell began to wear off on the three thieves who'd been unfortunate enough to get caught up in it. They were, unsurprisingly, furious.

"*What the fuggin' hell is this!?*" Dench snarled. 

The man who'd been carrying punching daggers worked to pick himself up off of the ground.

"*Rickus, why the hell haven't you stabbed any of these scumrats? And who the hell is this!?*" he gestured to Stephanie.

"Rickus" waved a hand at him, seeming unimpressed. 

"*You know you morons are about as useful as Garrel? How the hell did you get bushwacked by a bunch of mercs anyway? Your whole job was to bushwhack them when they came by. Anyway you're in luck. Fox hired these footpads to break up the raid, but they'd rather get paid then wind up in a gutter. And now that I'm here, they won't kill you for getting in their way. Probably.*"

They dusted themselves off, and glared at Barbara, who was standing between them and their weapons. Rickus has clearly bought Stephanie's line, but the thieves who'd been attacked weren't so sure.

"*The fug are you all anyway?*" Dench growled. 

"*You gonna give us our weapons back?*" the human added.

The half elf who'd carried the bow didn't say anything, but he looked cagey and suspicious, though he didn't challenge what his fellow thugs were saying.

Rickus turned his eyes to Kate, and his expression soured.

"*And uh, what about you, huh big guy? You decided to join the winning team too?*"

There was something about the way Rickus spoke that seemed to be a signal to the other thieves. The three of them turned to glare at Kate at the same time.

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Julius takes flight, flitting off into the night to look for the missing thief. You can feel his eagerness, but after a couple of minutes go by he still hasn't returned. Even as the distance between you lengthens, you can still feel his dogged persistence as he tries to satisfy your request.

*Detect Thoughts*

All of the thieves you stunned are angry, startled, and apprehensive. Their thoughts come to you in a rush as they're propelled around their heads bg adrenaline. 

Dench: He'd prefer to just deck you and take his weapons back. He's big and powerful and he sees you as a small, weak victim, if only he had the opportunity. You get the sense that he's solved most of his problems in life through violence, and it's hard for him to see other alternatives. But he's generally afraid that Kate will hack him open if he tries. He was planning on ambushing whoever came along the docks from the direction of the Guildhouse; Raam had sent him out here with his crew for exactly that purpose, so being ambushed himself has left him feeling vulnerable. He gets angry when he's vulnerable.

Rickus seems to have thrown him off, though. The human thief implied he'd failed his task and embarrassed himself. That makes Dench much more cagey. Reputation is everything in the thieves guild (and on the streets of Gotham more generally), and the idea that he might now be seen as weak has paralyzed his thoughts. He's not spending much time or effort considering whether the explanation that you all are turncoats makes sense.

"Daggers": the human who's follows Dench into your trap is similarly furious, but more so at Dench then at you. He immediately started feeling like their predicament was Dench's fault, not just because they got ambushed but because they were on guard duty in the first place. "daggers" is sure that the thieves who got to join Raam on the docks or even just guarding Pier 42 are going to get an unfair cut of the spoils. 

"Half-Elf":  He shares a lot of Dench and "Daggers":s feelings, but he's squirrlier and scares more easily and wants desperately to get out of this situation. He doesn't like any fight that isn't unfair and would prefer to rob defenseless victims than ones who fight back. But more than that, he's preoccupied with someone named "Holt". Specifically "_Where the fug is Holt? Where'd he go??_"

Rickus: His thoughts are only now just beginning to bubble to the surface, but you can't read them. Seeing him you can feel that his consciousness is present, but it is shrouded from you completely.

----------


## Feathersnow

"That'd be redundant.   Whatever team I'm on is the winning team.  Lucky for you, I pick wisely."

Kate says this matter of factly, ignoring the act they all thought "she" was a "he."  That they now probably know better might put them off balance and sell the intimidation,  or it might make them doubt her.  Either way, it was of minor importance.  They'd take her to the thieves guild, one way or the other.

*Spoiler: trying to convince them to fear me*
Show

(1d20+3)[*16*] Intimidate

----------


## Molan

Rickus looks appropriately impressed, and the half elf is downright cowed, backing away towards the edge of the brackish water beneath the docks, putting every inch of space between himself and Kate as possible.

But Dench and the Punching Daggers Human just look angry, if a bit surprised.

"* You're a woman?*" the half orc snarls. "*Grummsh's eye. You don't scare me hag.*"

He stares at Barbara, fuming but fundamentally helpless given his missing gear and Kate's nearby halberd.

"*You stupid fairies were lucky you caught us by surprise. You wouldn't last two minutes against Raam.*"

"[B]Twelve above who fuggin' _cares_." Rickus sighed. "*You idiots got handled. Deal with it. This night's already turning into a way bigger pain in the arse than I ever woulda thought. We did what we needed to do -- Fox's mercs aren't going to disrupt the job. Let's just go find Raam and the others and see what he wants to do.*"

Rickus looks pointedly at Stephanie.

"*Who knows, maybe he'll cut you in for helping us out.*" he said. "*Or maybe he'll split you open and hang your corpses from the mainmast so Old Fox finally gets the fuggin' message. Let's go find out.*"

With that, Rickus turns and walks off, putting his back towards the assembled thieves and adventurers.

"* Pier's this way.*" he calls back.

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

 Julius returns, his subsonic chirping ticking the back of your neck. He doesnt land though; you can hear him chittering as he flutters up above you but he seems to feel too urgently to settle back down. You get the distinct sense that he found what you were looking for, but he's eager, earnest, and perhaps even frustrated. He wants to go back and watch whoever it is. You get a flash of instinct, as though Julius was insisting "*He's going that way!* Julius wants you to follow him west.

----------


## JbeJ275

"More fool you then if you're stupid as well as weak. And fair fights are for princesses and castles, so go play with fairies of your own if you think that whining is going to help you here. With that she met Dench's eyes, smiling with an unusually vulpine grin. For a few long seconds, Barabara waits to see if he responds. 


"Anyway, you all have bigger problems for the moment. If we're going to find Raam, I'm going to swing by and pick up that Holt cur on the way, you're welcome to come with if you think Raam would like a coward and a turncoat to nail to the wall."

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Trying to provoke Garret into attacking without support if possible, giving us an excuse to knock out a thug before we leave. Do I need to rol anything for that?

Taking all out defense.




*Spoiler: Original Post*
Show

"They're not wrong you know. Though in this case the class of opposition might have a little bit more to do with her good odds, while I take care of the finer arts it's good to have actual competent fighters at your back. With that she met Dench's eyes, smiling with an unusually vulpine grin. For a few long seconds, Barabara waits to see if he responds. 


"Anyway, you all have bigger problems for the moment. Which one of you thugs is Holt? And what does the Dark Market give to turncoats these days?

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Trying to provoke Garret into attacking without support if possible, giving us an excuse to knock out a thug before we leave. Do I need to rol anything for that?

Taking all out defense.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie watched Garrel stomp off with triumph in her heart, concealed by looking away from the awkward confrontation. Luckily the downed goons were soon roused and soon berating the people that beat humility into them. She winked when the downed human asked of her, but Rickus coordinated his unarmed thugs with another coded message  this one against the knight. Before there was need to speak up, the knight  a woman  voiced the subtlest hint of a threat. It was clearly not wise to press their luck here; the half elf and Rickus appreciated that differently. 

A stand-off happened then, with the woman knight and Batgirl on one end, and the emasculated and disarmed thieves on the other. Her two impromptu partners were safe. A stab of sympathy for the fearful half elf had Stephanie sidle nearby him. Watching the drama unfold between the four of them, she spoke in a whisper of elven, standing sidelong next to the unarmed archer. 

Listen carefully. Youre not getting that bow back. Youre not getting calmer around the knight. And youre not getting any sympathy from the captain when Rickus wont even tell strangers not to finish you. Raam seems a little less understanding than that. This evening isnt over for you; Midtown is. Unless...you know who your friends are. She handed the half-elf a stone when the half-orc accused the odd female duo as fairies. Thunderstone. Ten feet radius. You nail the next guy to take a swing at me, when Ive made some room, and Ill pull strings so you get a better gig than ambushes and abuse. 

Stephanie took a deliberate step away from the half-elf then, looking as unassuming as a dock crate. Rickus was halfway through his rant, and blue eyes refocused on the vruiser fully when he finally spoke to her directly. Her crew of would-be thieves would either get a cut of the spoils, or be cut open. The Thieves Guild were a lot more cut-throat than House Kyle, that much was obvious. She nodded slowly, before following after Rickus, the wizard saying something about a Holt. 

Boss, we leave those four starring into each others eyes all night long, theyll get handsy again before midnight, or too distracted to do anything useful. Itll screw up the job either way. She tapped her dagger helpfully, and nodded at the human that had lost his own to the unknownable Batgirl. Let me give the baby back his buy-in. The sooner he stops crying, the sooner we all go home richer. Whats his name? 

*Spoiler: Take 10 Diplomacy to Half Elf, Take 10 K: Local on Raam*
Show



Take 10 on Diplomacy to the half elf. Result 28. He should at least be friendly now? So I hope that chuck this rock at whoever is a jerk to me when I give space counts as limited help. 

Asked Rickus what Dagger Human Guys name is. 

Take 10 on K: Local. Do I know anything about Raam? Preferably his fighting style, but whatever really. Result 20.

----------


## Molan

The man flipped, and hurled into a series of curses and threats at Barbara. But he refrained from trying to strike her -- he was still well inside the reach of Kate's halberd. The half orc snarled at him, clearly eager to find their compatriots and move on.

"*Shut up. They're not worth it. Let Raam sort them out.* he nodded at the party. "*His name is Renk. And there was no one else here with us, so I don't know what you're talking about. Are we good here?*"

With that, the half-orc started off after Rictus and Renk and the half elf eventually followed suit. The party shared a brief look between each other, as if to say, "Whelp, we're in it now." Before following the thieves down the docks.

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

 Some thieves guild captains are run of the mill mobsters. Others are accomplished footpads and sneak thieves or experienced con men. Raam is none of those things. He's a violent half-giant bruiser who runs the Fort Clinton Slums through fear, intimidation and protection rackets. It's rumored that he carries a huge exotic sword, and some rumors even claim that he's psychic.


*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Dench is actively hoping that when you reach Pier 42, someone named "Ghol" will decide to kill you and bring your corpses to Raam rather than cutting you in, but he's not willing to put himself at risk to that end. Ghol is guarding the end of the pier with 3 other thugs; apparently one of them is a mage and a bit of a sociopath.

Renk hopes the same but his animosity is split between you and Dench for putting him in this situation. But he trusts Rictus; if Rictus says you're cool he's less concerned about getting killed. By you, at least.

The half elf feels better now that Spoiler calmed him down. He's hoping once you meet Ghol and the thieves outnumber you again he'll feel better, but he clutches the Thunderstone Spoiler gave him tightly in his fist, ready to chuck it and run if things go south. If it comes to a fight, he's more likely to be a hindrance to his friends than you at this point.

Rictus' mind remains closed to you, and you lost the missing mind completely.

Julius however is not. At the edge of your empathic link you can feel him chasing his target. The missing thief is moving the same direction as you, west, but he's ahead of you. At this rate he'll reach Ghol and the others at the end of the pier first.


As the party marches forward, you can see the market about fifty yards or more ahead marking your destination. Pier 42. Somewhere off in the water to your left, the _Chraal_ is docked, and Raam and his thieves are almost certainly aboard. You still have some time before you reach the pier, but not much. If you have Any checks or prep you want to do before you arrive, now's the time.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara looks derisively at the half orcs insistence as she continues on, and looks meaningfully towards both Kate and the Red Masked Mercenary with a more hesitant one to Spoiler as well. While walking she continues shooting scarely vieled barbs at the previous thugs, and when they next express irritation uses that as cover for the next part of her organising.

"Well, if the children can't abide some harsh judgements, I wouldn't want to expose them to any more unkindness. Let me just confer with the proper people more privately."


With that she sidled up closer to Kate, and now with an excuse, and her eyes locked on the thugs to further distract attention reached up to whisper into her ear.

"Same mark as earlier, hit those few who are still armed first then it'll be our job to get clear of the scene before any reinforcements show up. Gonnna have red over there draw them out, then we hit the depleted guard after. You ready for this?"

Such was followed only by waiting for any reply and chuckling at the half orc again before she went to the red masked merc and repeated her scheme.

"Gonna take them out before they group up, same hand sign as earlier. Once we've dropped any with weapons can you get the rest moving away from the pier with enough noise to draw others out from there then get them lost in the city? You seem capable enough. Ready to play that game."

Once recieving a reply there she finally silded up to Stephanie, pulling her just a few steps away from the criminal she was walking beside before passing on. "Time to show your colours, I'll point with thumb and pinky when it's time to drop anyone still armed. With the names and details we got we can talk our way in amongst the pier guards, especially once some have been drawn off. You ready?" 

*Spoiler: IF NO OBJECTIONS ARE RECIEVED*
Show


Once they've all had due chance to object she waits until they're the right distnce from the docks, needling the initial thugs while she does. Hoping to provoke an outburst and an excuse to thin the herd early. Deliberatey ensuring Kate was not between her and he unarmed thug, in the hope that this slight reduction in fear would allow his bravado to win and using what she read from his thoughts to further refine her taunts. 

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Diplomacy: Now over an appropriate time frame: (1d20+2)[*12*]



If that succeeds, this is the readied action. 

Failing that, she simply waits until they're in the appropriate place, then strides forward to strike Rickus over the head with a sap.

(1d20+3)[*20*]
(2d6)[*9*]

----------


## Feathersnow

As Barbara begins the escalation, Kate uses her dorje a second time.

_Finally. Something I'm good at._

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*On the walk to the pier*=

Stephanie looked nonchalant when Rickus kept them moving, and picked a pace to fall in line with the two strangers that had a personal vendetta against the knight and wizard pair she had thrown in with. She smiled as innocently at them as the sheathed sap and dagger at her hips allowed.  

Renk. Dench, the vigilante started amiably. They call me Spoiler. Look, sorry for not telling the others to lay off sooner. We could have avoided the whole thing if I had hashed out details quicker and saved everyone a headache.  She grimaced at the admittance. Like yourselves, Im a professional at acquiring excess goods. But as much as I want into the Guild, too much has gone wrong tonight to run my mouth about a cut. Raam will know who deserves what.

Stephanie gave an unimpressed glance at Rickus back as he led the way, and the wizard that kept provoking them. She had to at least appear on the side of the thugs. Still, I dont know why the boss calls you two idiots all the time; its pretty street smart going for an ambush. Never mind brave, if youre still throwing barbs when you aint even armed. You must be among Rickus best men. She paused, letting the lapping of the tide, the flitter of distant bat wings, and the lightest crackle of torch flames better sell the soothing point for her. 

She lowered her voice noticeably, keeping it within earshot of Renk and Dench. So  whyd he have no prob letting strangers decide if we gut you like seabass or not? I dont care that he pissed off our major in with the guards tonight; only you two can tell me if that puts this whole damn operation in jeopardy or not. But my big concern is to get in, and only you two know Rickus and the captain well. Hes not gonna blame all the screw ups tonight on us if we dont hash this out before the _Chraal_, right? 

*Spoiler: Take 10 Bluff and Diplomacy to Human and Half Orc, Molan*
Show



On the walk to the pier, kind of like earlier when it was Garrel and Rickus talking, only Im trying to add spices to the pot. Obviously attempt winning them to my side and redirect their anger against Rickus/preferably away from Batgirl/Her Knight In Mate Armour. 

Take 10 Bluff: *24*
Take 10 Diplomacy: *28*.


 

=*Near to pier 42*=

They arrived close to pier 42, and Stephanie felt herself tightening up. Knowing herself well enough, it was time to give the two strangers an out of her schemes if they wanted it, and consider if she didnt want out herself. They had the Thieves' location, and that was a fair place to cut the con. The uncanny wizard and quiet knight were ahead of her on that. When Batgirl came close and explained escalating the situation, she nodded non-committally, as if only the mundane was said. She drew her sai  the least threatening weapon on her person  and started needling it softly into her neck like an impromptu neck massager. Meeting a Thieves Guild captain was stressful even without first starting a fight outside of his place of operations alongside total strangers.

----------


## Molan

As the party neared Pier 42 and Barbara and Stephanie continued to cajole and taunt the thieves back and forth, the situation finally deteriorated beyond repair.

"*You know what? That's about enough.*" Renk snarled. He turned and hurled a fist at Barbara's head.

Rictus turned around, drawing his dagger, a confused look on his face. "*The fug'r you morons doing!*" He demanded. But he'd lost control of the room too. Dench spat in his directly and wound up a haymaker for his boss. Renk's fist swung wide of Barbara's face, but the half-orcs meating fist slammed straight into Rictus' nose, prompting a howl of anger and a fountain of blood.

The thieves had turned on each other -- they were too confused, scared (of their boss and the party both, it seemed) and angry to think clearly. The half elf saw everything going south and promptly bolted, not towards Pier 42 but back towards the city, away from the docks. 

The red helmed mercenary that'd been traveling with them nodded at Barbara and took off, not after the half elf, but after their missing thief. It wasn't long before the party could hear some shouting a couple dozen yards away from them, along with the barking of an angry dog. Whatever the red helmed man did now, they'd have to hope for the best.

With only three thieves and three party members left, the numbers of the fight were about even, but the odds were far from it. Jason had bought the group some time to avoid being noticed, but they had to down the three thieves before they sounded an alarm. However Dench and Renk were unarmed, and not especially trained to fight with their fists against armed opponents, and they'd turned on Rictus, who wore no armor and carried only a dagger.

There was a window, but it was a narrow one.

*Spoiler: Party*
Show

Same initiative order, you guys go first. Thieves got a surprise round. Go!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate uses daze on Renk, over-channeling to provide a boost for combat in the next round, even though the brute probably doesn't need it.

*Spoiler: the breakdown* 
Show


Daze cast at effective power 3 for 1 pp

(1d100)[*28*] need 11 or higher to avoid enervation

Either way, Renk suffers the effect of Psionic daze if he is 6HD or lower unless he succeds a DC 14 will save

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fight, round 1*=

Stephanie quickly darted behind the bulky leader. Im with ya, Dench! she cheered the half-orc on, and swung her sai at the back of Rickus head. Kick his ass.

*Spoiler*
Show



Because you gave us initiative, a sneak attack damage is certain (thankfully). But first:

1, Move action behind Rickus to ideally block any chance of running away, but also flank preferably with the half-orc (and/or Oracle) for the next round.  

2, Standard action attack.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+11)[*28*] (+9 normally, +2 with flank)
Sai damage: (1d6-1)[*3*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*10*]

----------


## Molan

Rickus hit the docks like a sack of bricks, knocked completely out cold. Dench's fist had smacked his head backwards and straight into Oracle's sap. He staggered forward and Spoiler struck him one last time, sending him face down into the boards. 

There was another burst of odd tension in the air and, for the second time in less than an hour, Kate blasted one of the thieves with a psychic thrust, Dazing Renk and preventing him from taking any further swings, at least for a brief moment.

Dench looked around, still breathing heavily, his blood pumping, and took in the situation. He was unarmed and suddenly surrounded. Spoiler had done a good job acting as an ally, and she'd been pretty convincing. But the night had more or less gone tits up for him, and things were starting to look pretty dire. He glared at Spoiler. 

"*You really want in? Prove it. Help me bring these dregs in front of Raam so he can rip them up.*"

With that, he wound up a really heavy, reckless swing and swung his fist at Barbara, smashing it straight into her chest.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Woof. That worked better than I thought, sorry JB lol. You take 10 nonlethal damage from Dench's punch.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fight, round 2*=

Winching at the wizard taking a blow right to the breast, Stephanie moved up behind the half orc. Or  _we_ become his new crew to replace you three. She aimed her sai at the shoulder blade of his dominant hand. 

*Spoiler*
Show




1, Move action behind Dench to flank with Oracle before she does anything?  

2, Standard action attack.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+11)[*25*] (+9 normally, +2 with flank)
Sai damage: (1d6-1)[*4*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*6*]

----------


## Molan

Spoiler's sai slid straight through the thick layer of muscle covering Dench's shoulder blade and landed home, ripping a nasty hole in his back. He snarled in agony, clutching in vain for a wound he couldn't reach. He stumbled a bit; Barbara and Kate had already landed a few decent blows to his head not too long ago, and the combined punishment looked like it was beggining to catch up to him.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara withdraws 30ft away from the fight, wheezing and spluttering.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate attempts to take down Renk, the last standing thief, by wallopping him on the side of his head with a pole are.
*Spoiler: actions*
Show


To hit (-4 for using a weapon for subdual, +2 for euporia) (1d20+5)[*9*]
If successful (2d6+4)[*12*]

Kate then takes a 5 foot step closer so the thief will provoke if he runs.

----------


## Molan

Kate's swing misses, though Renk is still dazed. 

Dench was struggling, but he wasn't out yet. He swung around and tried decking Spoiler the same way he'd slammed Oracle, with a nasty haymaker.

Spoiler'd done well avoiding trouble up to that point, but once the big half orc swung around, there was nowhere to hide. His fist smashed the side of her face, staggering her back towards the water.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Whoof. Sorry guys. That's two high attack rolls in a row. Stephanie takes 10 nonlethal damage. Kate would have torn Renk up pretty good, but her halberd missed.

----------


## JbeJ275

Still winded but more on her feet than before, Barbara steps forward, pulls a crossbow and shoots at the raging half orc.

Attack: (1d20+6)[*10*]
Damage: (1d6)[*6*]+ (1d8)[*1*]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fight, round 3*=

Diamonds dancing around her gaze, copper to the taste, and the twang and sloosh of a bolt gone wide sounding somewhere behind, Stephanie dimly noted the water behind her back. The occupied knight and wizard with a crossbow  a universal sign in all arcana that she was empty.  Estanna, the Gothamite girl intoned quietly, then sprung up and forward, pressed down unto Denchs shoulders like a rickety podium, and somersaulted over his thick head. Landing heavier than she liked, she darted forward to flank the human the knight duelled. 

*Spoiler*
Show



HP: 24 max. 10 nonlethal damage. 
AC: 17. 

Tumble: (1d20+12)[*18*] (15 and above means it all goes well)

1, Move action to tumble away from the half orc and flank the dazed human. Flank with knight so we both get an accuracy boost and I can sneak attack again.   

2, Standard action attack the human.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+11)[*25*] (+9 normally, +2 with flank)
Sai damage: (1d6-1)[*0*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*4*]

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate steps back and tries again to club the man with the side of her poleaxe.

*Spoiler: rolls*
Show


(1d20+6)[*13*] (+1 euphoria,  +2 flanking, -4 subdual)
(2d6+4)[*8*] If successful 

Note- I misread the euphoria feature. It is a +1 for two rounds, not a +2 for one round.  This mistake seems to have had no effect on game play, but I am correcting it going forward.

----------


## Molan

Dench had had enough. Spoiler's sai rammed into his back a second time, opening another bleeding wound. He groaned, staggered forward, and jumped -- or, perhaps more accurately, fell -- into the dark water below.

Renk took the blow from Kate's halberd hard. The effects from her psionic attack wore off, and Renk spat blood and shook his head, overwhelmed from the repeated attacks. He looked around, saw that he was alone and surrounded, and dropped to a knee, holding his hands up.

"*Alright, alright! I give up! Just don't hurt me. The hell is wrong with you skags.*"

----------


## Feathersnow

"Nothing wrong. Fox hired me to take down the Thieves' Guild and requested prisoners instead of corpses.  You are just lucky enough to be at the front of the line."

She tosses minty cream potions to the others.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara nods gratefully at Kate, then drinks the minty potion, then withdraws a length of Silken Rope from her belt and passes a length to Stephanie. 

"You look like you know how to use this more than I do, make sure they can't move and then we'll get them the right distance from the pier."

She then turns to Kate and continues.

"Maybe help me fish the swimmer out of the water? I doubt I could do it under my own strength but you seem much more capable and it'd be a shame to lose track of one. Then once we've got them tied we can figure out how to approach the next group. We probaly know enough now to convince them long enough to get in the best position to start bringing them down, maybe seperate them somewhat as well."

If Kate is ammenable she'll go over to the waters edge, and offer the swimming man a rope up if he'd take it, and a vauge gesture with her crossbow to indicate what would happen if he didn't.

----------


## Molan

There was a tug on the rope, and from out of the murky darkness in the water below, Dench reemerged, now shivering, near unconsciousness and utterly defeated. He was incredibly heavy. Without Kate's help Oracle would never have been able to pull him out.

Once the soggy half orc was back on the dock, he and Renk stayed down. Renk had given up any attempts to resist, Rickus was still unconscious and Dench was teetering on the edge of passing out himself. Whatever else had just happened with the Red Hood down at Pier 42 aside, the immediate danger to the party was over.

The three women stood over their vanquished foes. Kate stood calmly and undaunted as ever, while Spoiler and Oracle were both still partially recovering from the brutal strikes Dench had given them before he'd fallen in the water. 

Out of the darkness of the evening, there was an almost imperceptible flutter of wings. Julius returned, and landed on Oracle's shoulder.

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Julius seems happy, even excited. You don't know exactly what he "saw", or more accurately heard, over at Pier 42, but his positive mood lifts your spirits. You're sure that the thief you sent him to find is not lost -- though whether that's because he stopped moving or was defeated by the Red Hood, you have no idea. He's seen some other's too, and you get the sense he knows they're hostile, but he's still relieved. There was some danger, some priority threat over at Pier 42 that had scared the little bat, and whoever or whatever it was is now apparently gone or moved on.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Seeing the half orc stagger after using his body for a gymnastic prop, Stephanie knew then her weight had been too taxing for him after all his injuries. He dropped off into the waves below. Thinking him surely dead, his friend immediately surrendered. An aching jaw and taste of blood lingered in sharp reminder why she had made a habit of avoiding brawls. Catching the green elixir pulled her from her thoughts, but she coyly delayed drinking until seeing the others do it themselves. After a surreptitious sniff at the odourless content, she turned herself enough away to allow herself to swish the healing potion in her stinging mouth before downing blood and potion in one. The mask was fully replaced when she turned back.  

Thanks for that. Did House Kane hook you up with a squire to help hold the fort as well? 

The con artist otherwise went uncharacteristically quiet when the second stranger asked her to tie them up, and she grasped the silken rope as the hand of a cheating spouse. Had the wizard not then tossed a line in an attempt to save the half-orcs life, she would have listened to a quiet doubting voice saying the three thieves had been divided and unarmed, and still gave a strong reply. They werent taking Raam in a fair fight at all. She nodded approvingly when they somehow retrieved the exhausted half orc. Adrenaline fading, she reluctantly went to the unconscious man first, knelt down, and made two identical loops for Rickus hands at his back. Overlapping, looping, tightening, doubts softened as the handcuff knot formed. Two overhand knots finished it. 

Stephanie moved over to dejected man second slowly, dagger to cut the rope in one hand, silken thread in the other. _If they get arrested, they either fill some Justiciars palm to get out early, or we hope theyre so poor enough theyre easy targets to be beaten down for failing Raam later. That little helps anyone._ She made a showing of circling and kneeling down in front of the human.  

Fox can get all the info he needs from Rickus, the closest medical care for your buddy is with the Merchants, and working through Gothams gauntlet in your state is craving a knife to the kidneys. She didnt know how else to describe the lawless twisting nether of gangs that took over the nightlife at ground level every evening. Even for a Midtown thief, it was dangerous for Renk to limp around in his state. Only rooftops were mostly safe.

Youve got nothing if the knight hauls you in. But you get to Fox on your own two feet, sell Garrel to that old man like a dull knife to a haemophiliac, and warn about the _Chraal_? You got a solid shot at getting Dench the care he needs right now, and an easy bargain for Lord Foxs protection. Anything less, and youre done. 

Stephanie fixed the Midtown man with a steady gaze. Whatever else she made of most nobles in Gotham, no one that knew Lucius decades long record could question that the lesser lord knew how to protect his assets and thrive in the face of Raam. 

Meanwhile, we could use any details you can give us about the _Chraal_. Crew size, traps, any hostages? That kinda thing.  

*Spoiler: Take 10 Diplomacy, as usual*
Show



Result 28. 

Theres probably important stuff to ask but Im feeling OOC tired. Im guessing for now that K: Local could at least tell me that the knight with the bat sigil is from house Kane. If not Ill edit out later.

----------


## Molan

Renk shook his head, looking miserable.

"*Look, it was supposed to be a quick smash and grab, okay? Garrel told Rickus that Fox was trying to move mage-paper overnight, so Raam took the whole crew out to pick it clean. That crap's stupid expensive, double so on the streets. Once we moved it we'd all have been set for life, and Fox'd be out of business for good. 

The only thing is, we knew Fox knew people would be gunning for this haul. So they blend the mage-paper crates in with the rest of the regular cargo. Takes time to find all the right boxes. So Raam sent me, Dench, Holt and Esken to ambush anyone who came over this way. Then he sent Ghol and his buddies to guard the entrance to the pier. They're the ones you gotta worry about. Eberk'll know you're coming from at least a dozen yards off -- he likes to set trip wires up so they'll know if anyone's coming, and that dog of his can usually smell you before you see em. Plus Aust is a real piece of work; I've seen him burn people's homes down when they didn't pay protection.

Anyway, even if you got past them, that leaves Raam and six of his men on the Chraal finishing up the job. It's too many for you three. No offense.*"

*Spoiler: Know Local*
Show

It occurs to you that the Chraal is likely a standard mid-sized deep sea shipping holk. It's a custom for Gothamite nobles to name their personal vessels after demons; chances are you've seen plenty such ships of that exact make and size.

Aust is a wizard, and is fairly infamous in Fort Clinton for being a particularly unscrupulous thieves guild enforcer. You've known Ghol to be one of the frequent names of mid level thieves that frequent the Slim's brothels, but little else.

Mage-paper is street slang referring to the various parchments, inks and special instruments required to write arcane spells into spellbooks. A shipment with multiple cases of "paper" would be worth a ludicrous amount of money. No wonder there's so much commotion over this shipment.

----------


## JbeJ275

I can add to some of this. Holt. The one who did a runner? He was headed that way, but then stopped so either red got them or he's with that lot now. Need to cover that as we get close, the mage is really messed up, once we're in close disabling them is top priority, they're not gonna hold back, but I don't think this one knows how to be creative enough with their magic. I still have enough tricks up my sleeve to bust out some magic, but the more I do that the fewer tricks I have to spare for the Charl. If they're in the habit of stealing aetheric gear though we might be able to repurpose some of that once we gain access to their stockpiles, but we probably need to move at a decent speed if we want in before red hood's finished his job. If you've got a story to tell Spoiler, feel free to tell it to these thugs. Though while we're talking, no names with these type in the room OK? No need to make trouble.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate grunts at the implication she is obviously affiliated with House Kane, and gestures assent for Stephanie's plan.  

She then moves forward towards the pier, trying her level best to be stealthy and observant...

----------


## JoyWonderLove

While Renk talked, Stephanie worked behind him with the silk rope to fashion a matching pair of a handcuff knot, if only to appease their wizard. But she eyed Foxs chosen mercenaries carefully when the blabbing thief divulged what the payload actually was. Whatever the Guild Master was offering them to risk their lives was likely copper change compared to what the spellbooks and scrolls were worth. _But then, smart money says only the little rogue girl didnt know. Merchants Guild, Mage College, House Kane  theyre all in on some kind of deal._ She pulled a face behind the mask sporting the slightest crack where she had been punched.  She pat Renk on the back when she was done, only a little before he claimed them incapable of stopping the theft. 

See, thats where you aint quite right, Renk. Tactician. Mastermind. Loveable rogue. She pointed confidently at the knight, the wizard, and gave a wink herself. Throw in Reds ability to put faces through floorboard, and we got this. She rose with an aplomb she didnt fully feel, but had to maintain. Now walk your ass to the Merchants Guild and take my advice to heart. Fox really is the only guy in Midtown that can give you what you need short term, and long. 

The wizard started sharing informing, and whatever relief at hearing there was still juice in the magical tank was short-lived for casually revealing her identity. A confused brow was arched while Stephanies heart raced. _Questions. I asked too many damn questions trying to pin down who was pulling off tonight. Great. She ratted out Holt about Zucco  double bluff? The Baron cant have the mage-papers, so hired her to run interference? Who is this?_ An uncaring shrug came next.  

I have no idea who that is, Stephanie lied effortlessly. But you two got Uptown spraypainted on, so let me name actual names. Raams whole shtick is keeping Fort Clintons primary exports of kneecaps and shakedowns at a premium. Half Giant, huge sword, but being psychic is pure Tetch territory. Speculation, not certainty. Meanwhile, Ghols a mid-level enforcer and a leach, while Aust as a wizard is exactly as principled he sounds. We win those two to our angle, or ambush our way through this. Fair fights wont win us Midtown. Now, while were moving to check up on Red, this gig doesnt exactly scream extra credit or banners and glory. You two mind telling who you are? 

*Spoiler: Take 10 (Use Rope, Search), rolling (Listen, Spot)*
Show



Im guessing we cant both move silently/hide while trying to move quickly enough to check that Reds ok. But Im still Searching for traps on the way there. 

Listen: (1d20+6)[*25*]
Spot: (1d20+6)[*25*]
Use Rope to constrain Rickus hands/feet and Renks hands, Take 10: *34*. (+10 bonus, +2 Silk Rope, +12 baseline, +10 Taking).  
Search for traps on the way to Red, Take 10: *20*.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara, looked back making sure any thugs were left behind before she spoke, and mentally called Juluis bck to her rather than having him continue flitting around their enemies. Then swallowing she came to a decision.

_You've heard inside her head and she's played ball so far, if I can't trust her I'm already screwed. Besides, the others know already._

You're far off on that one, I'm not an uptown kid. From West Side to Columbia Point, that's where I roamed growing up. And I'm just in it for money that I can take and then still feel good about.

With that she pulls back her hood and slides up her mask for just a second.

I'm Barbara Gordon, heir to Justicar's keep. You wanna share your life story or move onto these thugs?

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Listen: [roll[1d20+10[/roll]
Spot: [roll[1d20+2[/roll]
Search: [roll[1d20+13[/roll]

----------


## Feathersnow

"Katelyn Kane of House Kane, chevaliesse of the realm, formerly of the Marine Corps, at your service"

----------


## Molan

It would be difficult for any three citizens of Gotham, surrounded by danger and subterfuge at every moment, threatened by cutthroats and worse in the dark, to form any kind of bond. But against all odds, these three women had. "Barbara", who called herself Oracle, was incredibly cunning and her magical prowess had already paid them dividends. "Stephanie", who's street name was Spoiler, was clearly as persuasive as Barbara was intelligent. The way Spoiler had worked over the thieves had opened doorways to them that otherwise would have been paid in pain and blood. And Katherine, silent, brooding, armor clad Katherine, had proven one trait above all -- steadfastness. Nothing moved her, she had been a small island made of iron this entire evening, and both Oracle and Spoiler would be counting on her going forward, despite having never seen her face.

The party's newfound bonds were spiriting, but also came on the heels of dark news.

They approached Pier 42 to find it well defended. 

Part of it was obscured, but she could see a larger-to-medium sized merchant vessel tied up at the end of it. It's hard to see what kind of activity is occurring at the end of it, but based on the description it was mostly likely the _Chraal._ At the entrance to the pier was a large warehouse, and the front side of the warehouse was covered by a large wooden awning. The awning was supported by two large wooden beams at the front end, and connected to the warehouse itself on the back. At least two large stacks of crates and barrels obscured the area under the awning from the party's view. There were at least three or four different approaches to get under the awning, and a couple of other paths to get from the over-crowded, maze-like docks onto the pier itself, but she had no way of knowing for sure what, or who, might be waiting for them behind those crates.

*Spoiler: Listen*
Show

You can all hear the sounds of tense shouting. Someone has come through here recently, and he caused some chaos and bloodshed before he left. At least two, maybe three of the people guarding Pier 42 sound like they've run off chasing him, though you're not sure. Another appears to be incapacitated; two theives are arguing over what to do with his corpse.


*Spoiler: Spot / Search*
Show

Several trip wires can bee seen, by both Spoiler and Oracle, on your way to the pier. They seem designed to alert the defenders to your presence. Along the pier, you can see multiple random barrels filled with unidentifiable substances. They appear to have Alchemist Guild warnings on them.

----------


## Molan

The three women moved into positions atop some of the crates at the edge of the large overhanging awning, to gain better vantage of what was happening beyond. 

The scene below was chaotic. Three men stood in a semi-circle around a figure lying on the ground. The figure was wearing leather armor and had carried a short sword, but he'd been struck on the head and was bleeding. It was hard to tell if he was dead or alive.

One of the men was human, he carried a longsword at his hip and had a small shield strapped to his arm, and wore a long studded leather cuirass. He looked like a professional fighter. Next to him stood a gnome, wearing similar armor, carrying a small longspear. Sitting about ten feet behind them  on top of some boxes was an elf wearing a long tunic, his head covered in a cowl. He had a book in front of him and several scattered pieces of paper nearby; he was working on something, and seemed irritated that he was being distracted by the violence that had gone on nearby. 

"*Should one of us go tell them?*" the gnome said.

"*Fug no. What's wrong with you? Raam's not going to give a goblin's arse about fuggin' Holt. Come on.*"

"*I know that, idiot. But whoever that was could have friends.*"

"*Don't worry about it. Eberk and his dog'll bring him down.*" 

"*Yea, no s#$t! That's not the point! If Holt's hear and there are mercs crawling around the dock, what are the odds that Dench and his moron friends are still drawing breath? They could have men coming this way right now.*"

"*You're drunk.*" the elf snapped, "*And loud. Lucius Fox can't afford to recruit a housecat to help him now, much less an entire band of sellswords. Now shut up for fug's sake, if I have to start this over one more time I'm lighting one of you on fire.*"

"*He's right Dimble. Don't worry about it. This job is a done deal.*"

The thieves still have no idea that the party is nearby. So far, no one's moved.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate activates her combat buffs, then signals.

Fingers to forehead pointing to the elf, then pointing at him with her poleaxe.  _I daze him, then charge._

*Spoiler: enervation test*
Show


(1d100)[*81*]  need an 11 or better.
DC 14 will save if I succeed.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara's eyes scanned over the arcanist suppllies and mundane goods as well as the rest of the pier, her mind slowly turning over as she attempted to formulate a plan, stuggling against her relative inexpierience in direct combat, indeccision waring against impulsiveness. Much of this was rendered irrelevant though, when the armoured figure began the assult.

_'No, no that one. Most likely to resist the arcane and most likely to be subdued quickly...'_ was perhaps a generous description of the thoughts passing through Barbara's mind in terms of clarity, but she didn't speak. Instead she brought her crossbow up to her shoulder and fired at the human in front of her.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Arcana to check for potential oppurtunities with supplies around the dockyward.
(1d20+9)[*15*]

To Hit: (1d20+6)[*9*]
Damage: (1d8)[*6*]+(1d6)[*4*]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*On the stroll to pier 42*= (unimportant chatting/questions) 

The vigilante laughed softly  face awash in open relieve. It was the first unguarded act Stephanie had done all night long, she realized. Perhaps in weeks, since Robyn went to ground and she started to question her place in her gang. She mirrored the redhead by undoing her mask by the ear, revealing an unapologetic grin. An excess of courage was a bad call when operating solo.  

Estanna _above_, Barb, wanna spook me a little harder next time? I thought you were Zuccos pet beguiler tailing me for earlier. Not fun. 

She hummed to herself thoughtfully as she checked out the wizard again with newly relieved eyes, the still helmed knight offered only a cursory look. Absolutely loving the bat hat, by the by. Very Gotham ballroom chic. All I really expected were your codenames, though. Whatdya go by now? Batgirl? Jurist? Barbwire? You could completely pull off Barbwire. 

A purple leather folder from the back of her belt was produced while Stephanie waxed casual. Oh, hey, so, when we get to the pier, leave the tripwire to me. But if you could confirm theres no magic on or around them, thatd be huge. Ill need your help on how to get around if so. Magic is tetchy enough without tripwire and long knives involved. 

Stephanie started off at a hurried stroll, one now lacking any masked tension, finding herself unsurprised full plates and mealy mouths didnt fit. Whats a defender of the realm doing in the docks, besides? Fox call in last ditch favours, or is this all justice? 

Stephanie scanned from waist level to ground with a practised eye. She slowed mid-stride on spotting moonlight tiptoeing on one several feet off, as subtly as a pickpocket working a crowd. Another tripwire was seen several strides after that. The sound of arguing and several Alchemist Guild cannisters further ahead marked the area as not altogether friendly. Having to second guess throwing up one of many silent sequences picked up in House Kyle, she held up an upright hand to suggest a stop. Using the ring and thumb fingers of her hands, she pantomimed pulling drawing two lines in the air. One in front of her and repeating the same motion further in front of her. 

_Two tripwires._ 

=*Arriving around pier 42*= (minor stuff, Disable Device on tripwire) 

Kneeling next to the first trip wire, the purple leather folder was unfurled parallel the trap, showcasing a collection of tools of the freelance entering trade. After checking what it was connected to without touching anything, a quick snip and attaching the much shorter wire to two bricks she brought over kept any would-be alarm quiet and the wider swath of their approach silent. The crates and barrels were approached grudgingly at a signal to move closer to eavesdrop. 

=*Surprise round*= (?) 

Stephanie sighed silently to herself when the knight motioned for a strike. Putting aside whims of working the crowd to her ends from atop her perch on the crate, the sights of the hand crossbow were aimed down at the bookish elf that had terrorized many of Gothams families. The trigger was squeezed when the lady in steel moved for an attack. 

*Spoiler*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. 

1, Surprise round standard action attack the elf.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*29*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*3*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*9*]

----------


## Molan

The thieves never saw them coming.

The still of the night was broken by a burst of psychic force which washed past the man and the gnome and smacked into the elf. The burst ruffled some of the papers he'd been working on but washed over him as it struck his body, causing his eyes to glow for the briefest moment but taking on no other ill effect. The crossbow bolt that followed it fared much better however, slamming into his shoulder and yielding a burst of blood. A second crossbow bolt struck the human's chest but at a poor angle, and it bounced off of his brigandine, clattering harmlessly onto the docs. The thieves reacted angrily, readying their weapons, while the elf drew a wand from his belt.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

1. Roll for initiative. I'll hold this order for the rest of the "dungeon". 
2. Great hit on the elf, good damage. He nailed his will save though.
3. Barbara notices several cannisters in the piles around the thieves. One near the elf is filled with a substance called "Molodone", which when mixed with water creates an effect like an _obscuring mist_ spell. Another is filled with "Gellermix", which creates a 20ft _grease_ effect; this canister is sitting nearer to the dock edge near you. Finally, on the far side of the area, several barrels are marked with angry red gnomish lettering clearly meant to denote "danger", and the barrels are painted red. One of them is plainly containing a substance you know to be "pixiewart", which creates a _glitterdust_ effect when exposed to electricity. The second barrel though you're not sure what it does.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*First round*=  

Red bloomed heavy where the bolt landed, but the elf barely gave a grunt. Stephanie felt no mercy as another bolt was clicked into the flight groove and she looked down her sights again at the arsonist, intent on making Gotham safer than the night before.  

*Spoiler*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. 

1, Move action reload the hand crossbow. 
2, Standard action attack the elf.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*22*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*2*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*2*]

----------


## Molan

Spoiler's second crossbow bolt hurled out from her hiding spot and struck the elf in his chest. He dropped to the docks, bleeding out all over the boards. 

The human who'd been talking to the gnome brandished his longsword and charged Kate, swinging it in a powerful downward stroke. As he swung it down on her, the psychic amorpha protecting her rippled and his sword caught nothing but air.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's concealing amorpha takes the day.

She's up now, then Barbara.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate takes a step back and then swings down with her poleaxe!! She is too angry and does not soften her blows.

*Spoiler: mechanics*
Show


(1d20+8)[*26*] to hit
(2D6+4)[*10*] damage

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## JbeJ275

From her current position Barbara casts a shroud of _Sleep_, rose petals from her pouch seeming to burn then reconstitute themselves as the flickered. Her hope is to keep the centre closer to the gnome than the man but to catch both with its confines. While she hadnt shied away from using her crossbow in its full lethality it would do the justices plenty more good to have one of these made men alive to interrogate. 

*Spoiler*
Show


DC 17 will save for enemies until 4HD of enemies are asleep or any more dropping would put it over 4HD.

----------


## Molan

Kate's halberd slammed into the human, carving through his studded leather armor and drawing vastly more blood than his own strike had done. He howled in anger and held his shield up to defend himself, realizing he'd perhaps bitten off more than he could chew.

----------


## Molan

Arcane magic washed out into the area from Barbara's hands, and both the human and gnome's eyes rolled into the back of their heads before their eyelids shut. They both hit the docks hard, temporarily sound asleep.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

The instance the duo hit the floor, unconscious, Stephanie leapt down from her perch, grunting as she rolled into a little ball to take the impact. She was quickly on the two of them, tying them up with her own unsurprisingly trademark purple silk rope. First the hands, then the legs, for both the human and then the gnome. When that was done, she went over to the elf, and grimaced at her bloody work. Careful to step around the blood pooling about him, she simply cut pieces of clothe off with the elf; particularly the non-bloody parts, and went back to his living cohorts. Only when the pieces were tied into their mouths did she straight again fully, shaking her head. 

Done. Now I say we stash these two away, and try tracking Red and his suitor; maybe we hit him from behind. Then, regrouped, see what we can do about Raam. Unless someone has a better idea like rigging a trap up with all the Alchemist cannisters? 

*Spoiler: Take 10 (Use Rope)*
Show



Use Rope to constrain Ghol and Dimble. (+10 bonus, +2 Silk Rope, +12 baseline, +10 Taking).  

Human: (1d20+24)[*39*]
Gnome: (1d20+24)[*25*]

----------


## JbeJ275

Better to move on the boat now before anyone checks on our freinds here.  Barabara says, looking through the equipment of these newly defeated enemies, taking anything sufficiently interesting and divesting them of any weapons or small blades they could use to free themselves.

With a minute or two I could rig up some of those alchemiccal devices into useful equipment. Then if I locate to room on the ship where this meeting is happening we could ensure anyone inside reieves quite the unpleasant suprise.

----------


## Molan

Spoiler hogtied the two thieves with the surgical expertise of someone who'd tied people up many times before, which was a little alarming, if anything. But before long she'd rendered both men muffled and helpless, and Spoiler and Oracle managed to box the two of them in and out of sight with some of the crates nearby.

The alchemical barrels scattered around the area were heavy, but not so much so that they couldnt move them. Before long they'd assembled three containers of molodone, another of Gellermix, two barrels of pixiewart, and one red barrel with angry gnomish lettering, still unidentified.

Perhaps a hundred yards or so south of them, the _Chraal_ loomed at the end of the docks. A couple of dim lights could be seen from the edge of it's deck as though someone was walking around with torches. Otherwise the long wide dock was quiet and abandoned, with scattered piles of crates breaking up an otherwise straightforward path to their destination.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Neither Ghol not Fumble are going anywhere, Aust is still bleeding out.

Barbara secures the following items from the two thieves:
 - a pair of acid flasks
 - 2 longswords
 - a composite longbow (SR1)
 - A grease potion 
 - an unidentified, used wand
 - a potion of endure elements
 - a potion of blur
 - three magical scrolls (Aust had apparently been working on more but the others were unfinished) -- hold person, heroism and enlarge person.
 - a small longspear
 - a light wooden shield
 - 450 gp
 - 270 sp
 - 2 gems of inditerminate value
 - 500 gp worth of arcane spell scroll writing equipment
 - A sealed letter with what looks like a cypher scrawled on it -- possibly some kind of thieves guild code or key
 -

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## JoyWonderLove

Spoils wise, the armoury worth of weapons and endless potions mean a lot more to the Justiciars and House Kane than itll ever mean to me roaming solo. Stephanie liked the noble heiress practical intelligence and knights bravery, but she wasnt ready to mention her longstanding associations yet. Throw the gems and letter my way. Travelling light is one of the few ways not to get robbed at night. 

As though to showcase her point, Stephanie pulled the head of her purple rope through the tail end of a silver grappling hook, one of her many belt items. She started backpeddling away from the awning she was under, eyes squinting as she gauged the distance. Going to the opposite side of the crates, gaining a small bit of cover from any eyes on the ship, she started twirling the hook in hand. 

But you two need to clue me in on the meeting. Youre saying the Thieves Guild are not only fleecing Fox for his most valuable shipment in who-knows-how-long, but theyre holding a pow-wow on the theft, on-site, on the very night its being done? Before theyve gotten away? 

Even speaking conversationally, the incredulousness in the vigilantes voice only built. Stephanie silently hoped everyone stopped claiming House Kyle were too presumptuous when this news was finally spread around. The claws of the hook leapt up and out of gloved hands at a final twirl, and seemingly grabbed the edge of the building with a reassuring clink. A few distrustful tugs confirmed it. She had fallen a few too many times not to question her handiwork with hemp. 

Headin up. 

*Spoiler: Take 10 Use Rope, Climb, Spot*
Show



Use Rope with grappling hook to throw a secure line to the warehouse roof. Result 24. (+10 Taking, +2 Silk Rope, +12 baseline).  

Take 10 to Climb it easily (DC should be 5, given the rope and a wall to brace against).

Take 10 Spot/Listen from rooftop, trying to stay low so her figure doesnt stand out. Result *16* for both.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate remains silent to avoid admitting she showed up to this blind and is completely out of her depth.

----------


## Molan

Perched atop the warehouse awning, Stephanie was rewarded with a breathtaking view as the maze like clutter of the docks gave way to an uninterrupted panorama of the docklands, the Gotham River and the rest of the city behind.

Behind her, the tenement houses of the Fort Clinton Slums say hunched in a messy warren, but behind them, the looming towers, palisades, and stone walls of the great halls of Midtown looked down on her like grim dark mountains. In the distance she could see the lonely, dark sillouette of the Merchant's Guild Tower, now mostly abandoned, the great worn "W" sigil of the Guild still visible in the moonlight on its face.

To the south, she could see almost all of Downtown. The island was lit up with all manner of torches, lamps and faerie fires, still bustling even at this time of night. Stretching before her into the Gotham River was pier 42, a huge long deep water dock set up to load and unload ocean faring cargo ships that stopped at this port. At the end of the pier was the _Chraal_, a squat, sturdy looking Holk, and she could clearly see at least two torches lit on its upper deck. In addition to the ship itself she could see the area around it's gangplank had at least one stack of crates nearby, and in the water behind it were tied several rowboats.

But perhaps most intriguingly of all, she realized that the pier was lined with a number of simple wooden cantilevered cranes, spaced out so that if the pier were full each could serve a different ship. One was hanging slightly above the _Chraal_, it's cargo platform empty and connected to the crane by four ropes at it's corners, which were attached to the crane's hook.

Squinting closely, she could make out four figures on the weather deck, and two guarding the gangplank, for a total of six.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Taking time to admire the view from the rooftop, Stephanie fought her first impulse to stare off into the faerie and torch lights, wondering how that queer island treated Robyn. It was one of the few places she was safe, if because most other Gothamites werent. A good look was taken at the _Chraal_ next. She found herself smirking at the layout before turning away. But the brooding W in the Midtown distance made an unfortunate reminder of who benefited from halting Raam tonight. _Not only him. We just have to break the last little bit of this heist up, then Fox has all he needs to revitalise his Guild. Hell need people, theyll need jobs, and families will thrive. Even if Wayne is one of them._ Thoughts of that lecherous drunk were happily whisked away as she slide speedily down the secure rope, although it took finesse to free it from the floor level. 

Great news. Stephanie said while disconnecting and rewinding the rope. She moved over to the writing equipment, ripping out a page of what she presumed was the back, pointedly ignoring the two bleeding nearby. She had little clue how to patch wounds and less to do so for the same elf she plugged twice. A rough sketch featuring the holk, the crane, gangplank, and approximate location of each guard, was done in pencil for Barbara and Kate. 

I personally recommend making the workplace nice and accident prone. She tapped the gangplank thrice. Id need to get closer to confirm, but I might be able to sneak around to rig the gangplank to collapse under weight. When we make enough noise to draw attention up top, they move up, it collapses. Pain aside, theyll probably have to decide between their weapons or air. Win-win either way. Which brings us to at least one other way to board, regardless.   

She drew her index finger over to the crane, tracing its giraffe neck to the platform. Whether youre for me tweaking the gangplank or just want to try another approach, as long as its all calm and quiet, this is my entrance to the _Chraal_. Theres enough elevation that safety and accuracy are obviously on our side. We can rain down as many bolts as we like, let alone all the goodies youre whipping up down here. A cheesy smile and hostess-esque wave of her hand indicated all the barrels with enough chemicals inside them to throw a week-long rave. The oddest tinge of melancholy rolled through her at not having been to one in over a month, let alone setting up an underground performance for the slums. 

_If the Bards Guild dont get off Robs back soon..._

Anyway, brownie points if either of you can daze or hit Raam with that rainbow cone while hes under it. She shrugged. A girl has a right to dream.

*Spoiler: In the interest of expediency*
Show

 I like the idea of sabotaging our way through this, but in the interest of expediency, I dont care that much about trying to ambush the two guarding the gangplank instead. Ill leave that part to democracy. The only thing I really want is to sneak up the crane neck to the platform at least. +1 accuracy and safety works for me.

----------


## Feathersnow

"I can try to daze him.  It usually works.  How about I get big with my power stone and take the center, then you two flank?"

----------


## JbeJ275

"If that does what I think it does one of these thugs had a scrolls to achieve a similiar effect for longer. Just give me the word and I'll hit you with it."

While barabara is talking, she places the two longswords in the Pixiewart barrel such that they're not touching, then carefully places one of the acid vials such that a sudden impact would smash it. She then begins moving that barrel and a barrel of Gellermix towards the base of the crane. A barrel of Molodone was left near the water edge a ways further down the pier to cover any neccesary retreat. 

"Very well Steph. You sabotage the drawbridge, and get on top of the crane arm. I'll be getting these in position below on the hook. Once these guards taking a plunge gets any others from downstais up on the topdecks, we can drop a suprise on their heads that's quite entertaining. I'll try and get to the controls unseen but if I don't we let the drawbridge do its work early.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Any rolls needed for operating the crane or the like?

----------


## Molan

The party had to move carefully. Any missteps while they prepared their attack would alert the thieves guild thugs, and they were badly outnumbered this time. The maneuvered down the pier, staying close to the piles of crates and barrels to avoid being noticed. Oracle staged her molodone barrel to cover their escape, and found the pulleys and leavers needed to slowly draw the crane over to her, place her concoction on it's hook and slowly working the cumbersome wooden crane back into position.

Spoiler crept up as close as she could to the gangplank, crouching behind a pair of barrels near the two thugs guarding it. One of them was another half orc, this one carrying a greatclub. Next to him was a dwarf, armed with a club and a heavy wooden shield. They'd be tough obstacles if she engaged them directly. She could hear them talking, but they weren't saying much anything of interest, mostly just complaining about other guilders and gothamites they didn't like. 

She could also hear some other voices coming from the deck, but it was difficult to hear what they were saying. Somewhere up above her she heard a soft *thunk* sound, like something heavy touching the deck.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

No checks required to operate the crane, it's fairly simple machinery. 

I order to disable the gangplank, you'll need to either distract the guards or successfully move silently past them. Rigging the gangplank itself will require a low DC disable device check.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Sorry, I have the time, its just focusing and motivating myself after thinking through how to implement the idea. 



After a brief chat on how best to implement the idea, Stephanie popped into the warehouse, scanned a list of itinerary luckily on a table nearby the entrance, and went searching. Borrowing the empty wooden barrel with a side tap built in, she used her small crowbar to reopen the Molodone and pour the blue liquid gently into the open would-be beer casket. Ignoring a hazy memory of helping her mother create a bootleg beer when her father was first locked away for years, the mercenary tapped the lid back into place securely. Moving behind as much cover as the pier allowed, she carefully put the filled casket on its side, wedging it between two thick tomes that were well thumbed. The casket tap was turned until drops conspired one after another to turn the waters into mist. When it started to engulf her area, she tiptoed around the area to work with screwdriver in hand.  

*Spoiler: Move to Disable*
Show


Move Silently: (1d20+14)[*16*]
Disable Device: (1d20+10)[*17*] 

Then sneak back to the crane to see if we can't board that way.

----------


## Molan

*The Chraal*



Stephanie slunk through the creeping mists as they enveloped the docks around the _Chraal_. The thieves standing at the bottom of the gangplank continued to talk idly as though unbothered by the fog. The ruse to portray the molodone mist as natural appeared to have worked. Spoiler was able to disable to gangplank and render it dangerous, and no one heard her creep forward or back. Above her, she heard more idle chatter, but no one said anything interesting or appeared alarmed by the sudden fog.

When she returned from her work, Barbara and Kate were waiting for her near the base of the crane. Oracle had managed to place her glitterdust "bomb" on the crane's cargo platform, with the other, gnomish-marked red-painted barrel still sitting unused nearby. 

"*We can use this crane to get the surprise above the deck of the Chraal. We can move at least two of us above them too, but someone would have to stay down here to pull the ropes to get the beam into position. Unless of course we can figure out a way to manipulate the ropes from the platform. But if the gangplank is trapped, we won't want to take that way up. I wonder if one of us shouldn't stay down here to lure the thieves off of the deck and onto the bad plank? The other two could get up on the platform.*"

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## Feathersnow

"funny enough, I have a spell for that.  It gives me peternatural balance and leaping prowess, even in this armor.  And I'm still the worst at climbing. "

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## JbeJ275

Once the other two begin going up, Barbara begins navigating the crane so its closer to the correct position. Once its as close as it can get without alerting the guards below, she moves quietly away from the controls and throws a palmed stone at the Charl to lure the men there out of position.

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## Molan

Barbara labored to slowly move the old wooden cargo crane back over the ship. As she did so, the cargo platform creaked and groaned but held, lofting Kate and Stephanie overtop the thieves on the _Chraal_, where they were finally able to get a better vantage point. Between them, Barbara's makeshift bomb and the red gnomish-script barrel sat, waiting to be deployed.

Down below on the ship, they could get a much better view of what was happening. On the deck were four humans, all of whom had the look and bearing of thieves guilders; they looked lowbrow and common born, but carried weapons and light armor that marked them as a bit above -- or at least more dangerous than -- simple slum peasants. 

One man stood near the rigging in between the ship's helm and the center of the vessel. He cradled a heavy crossbow, and periodically looked back and forth over the mists that had surrounded the ship, mostly keeping his eye on the gangplank. This was clearly one of their lookouts. One of them stood at the top of the gangplank, just off to the side, with a halberd slung over his shoulder. If the party had needed any more indications, the fact that this guilders felt confident walking around with heavy military weapons really underscored how aloof and untouchable they all seemed to feel.

Sitting on a couple of barrels and chatting with the halberdier was a think looking man with a bunch of knives cut into the leather lined armor on his chest. He twirled one knife end over end while he spoke. In the center of the ship, a large open cargo hatch yawned below them, revealing little but inky blackness beneath. It was surrounded by a number of boxes, and sitting on a couple of them was a fourth man, this one carrying apparently no weapons of any kind, his arms crossed over his chest. He was talking too, but it wasn't obvious from their vantage point who he was addressing.

As the two women watched, something appeared from inside the cargo hatch; a large crate, marked with the sigil of the Mage's College.

"*How many more?*" the unarmed man called.

A deep, intimidating garbling voice replied; "*At least two.*"

What was strange was that the box seemed to move on it's own; the party couldn't see ropes or hands moving it. It settled itself on the deck of the ship near another one with the same marking.

The night erupted once again as Barbara's thunderstone exploded on it's targets. 

Both the dwarf and half orc howled and shook their heads, but managed to avoid the worst of the stone's effects. 

The men atop the deck quickly sprang to the alarm. The man with the heavy crossbow stayed where he was, panning his weapon along the docks, but the other three quickly made a run for the gangplank. The gangplank wobbled, and promptly crashed into the water below. The man with the halberd quickly disappeared below the docks, but the throwing knife and unarmed man each made a leap for the edge, their reflexes clearly a bit quicker than his. They both failed, hitting the dock edge before falling between it and the boat and splashing into the water below.

A voice roared from inside the ship. That struggle for the _Chraal_, and the future of the Merchant's Guild, was on.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler goes first, then Kate, then some NPCs. That being said, Barbara make a hide check if you want to stay hidden from the half orc and the dwarf on the dock with you (the fog should help.)

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## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie made a show of checking her crossbow was loaded and the sight was clear when the suggestion came up of drawing those up top, down the gangplank. She doubted her ability to evade that many over merely dropped their payloads on them, and didnt want to end up disappearing like Red besides. So her eyes widened when Oracle volunteered herself for her own idea. 

Thunderstone, Stephanie said simply, before folding it into Barbaras hand. The bookworm likely knew more about one than the rogue did arcana. 

Stephanie moved unto the platform besides the knight then, and the straining platform was lifted into position. The wizard disappeared off into the unnatural mist. In the quiet she was strangely reassured by the unorthodox knights presence. 

The wooden red container was tapped lightly with the side of Stepahnies foot as they waited for the signal, pointed down at the crossbowman, and made a fist that exploded and folded back at each finger. _The crossbowman and explosives are a bad mix,_ the warning went. She aimed her weapon down through the platform at where he roughly was, her next target obvious. The knight was pointed at and the crossbow acted as an imaginary kettle pouring into a cupped hand before the hand became a another fist, palm down, that suddenly opened up. _Say when you want the payloads to drop._ Interest in charades momentarily exhausted, she listened for thunder to know when to rain bolts.

*Spoiler: Feathersnow*
Show

I dont know what your plan is, but Im guessing you intend to jump down eventually, so itd probably be a good idea if you decided the best time to drop the payload(s), as it could potentially impact you the most. 


=*First round*=  

A thunderclap obligingly shattered the peace, and much movement answered below. The crossbow was aimed downwards at the only one still on the weatherdeck in the open. 

*Spoiler*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. 

1, Move action reload the hand crossbow. 
2, Standard action attack the weatherdeck crossbowman.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*13*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*2*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*10*]

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## Feathersnow

Kate gestures to drop as a prelude to her charging in, then she activates her shield

----------


## Molan

Down on the docks, the dwarf with the shield swung his club through the mists, trying to see and well aware that they were under attack. But the club hit nothing but air as he wandered blind, Barbara's position hidden from him. Below, the thieves who'd been dunked into the Gotham could still be heard splashing and yelling, but none of them appeared back above the docks. 

Spoiler's crossbow bolt flew down from her perch and smacked into the overwatch thief with the heavy crossbow, causing him to scream in agony as blood poured from his shoulder. He fired back at her, but given the damage done to his shoulder and her superior elevation, the heavy bolt flew by, harmlessly. He limped away from where he'd been shot, looking for cover.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Feather, is Kate's motion to activate her armor a free action or was that your first turn? I just want to know if I should have dropped you onto the deck already or not.

It's now Barbara's turn. Two dangerous adversaries sharing the dock with you, but neither of whom can currently see you. There's a shooter up above but he's 100% focused on Spoiler right now, and in his mind he's losing (actually in everyone's mind he's losing, still not the point.

Spoiler JUST barely managed to land her shot after appling flat-footed to the ambushed crossbowman and he *just* barely missed -- but a hit is a hit and a miss is a miss, lol.

So yea, Jbre, you're up, once you go I'll start moving the other pieces.

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## JbeJ275

Barbara crept around further from where the thunderstone impacted, carefully sanning the dwarf and half orc on the quayside for any sign of ranged weapons on either of thier sides. Then scampered up vertically looking for some ledge or outcropping that would give leess than a foot of room to manuever to the thugs, denying them any easy pursuit and balaning the odds should they chase her.

With such a position found, she weighs her odds, deciding she has time to defeat the two up here in detail. Thus she instead fires her own crossbow towards the crossbowman on the ship.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


(1d20+6)[*18*] for (1d8)[*2*]+(1d6)[*1*]

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## Molan

Barbara's crossbow struck the crossbow in his other arm, drawing another cry of pain. From inside the cargo hatch, Spoiler and Kate could see movement, and before their eyes, a large, scarred half-giant appeared to levitate straight out of the hold of the ship, slowly hovering upwards until his feet were over the deck, then landing gently on the surface of the ship. He looked furious, his arms ripped with dangerous might, and he carried a massive curved sword; it looked kind of like a two handed scimitar, but it was made from a strange, dark, deep purple crystalline substance instead of silvery steel. 

As the half-giant looked around the deck, the expression of anger on his face mixed with confusion; he didn't immediately grasp where the attack was coming from.

"*Gex! Horan! The fug're you idiots!?*"

Across the ship, the wounded crossbowmen waived to get his attention. 

"*Raam! Up high, on the crane!*"

The half giant looked up and scowled at the two women on the platform, and his eyes glowed purple.

Down on the docks, the half orc screamed and began beating his chest, bursting into a fit of violent rage. He began to charge around the general area of the dock, swinging his heavy club through the mist, but striking nothing.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Man you guys are doing *so* much better with this than my last party lol.

Stephanie is up next, then Kate.

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## JoyWonderLove

=*Second round*=  

The astonishment of a shot harrying the crossbowman over the two that stalked Barbara below, the troubling groan of the platform as yet more weight joined them, and all the yelling below, Stephanies nerves sizzling as the mountain of psychic violence rose from the abyss of the ships darker depths. She tuned out all else. Cupping the manageable brown wooden barrel with all the anticipation and care of an aunt holding her sisters newborn, she turned expectantly to the edge of platform, and with all the care of an absentee father, let go before anyone could react. 

Stephanie then fell prone to distribute weight more evenly across the platform, but her eyes were locked on the man huddling wounded away from Raam. She stared down the sights of her own handheld crossbow promisingly as she internally willed him to take a swim instead.

_Us or the ocean._ 

*Spoiler*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. +4 VS crossbow / ranged attack due to being prone. 

1, Move action to drop the glitterbomb on Raam. 
2, Move action to reload crossbow but I did that last round I dont know what to do with this action.

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## Molan

The barrelbomb exploded, spreading golden, glittering flakes all over the deck of the _Chraal._ Raam howled in anger, but seemed to manage to shake most of the particulate off of his face. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Kate's turn. Not sure if Feather was holding off for some reason.

----------


## Molan

Kate clutched her halberd tightly but remained on the platform, refusing to jump down into the fray just yet. Down in the fog, the dwarf continued to flail around in vain, still not comprehending where his aggressors had come from. He shouted up to Raam on the boat, calling for instruction. The half-giant called back;

"*They're on the crane you fuggin' idiots!*"

As Barbara watched, she could see the Dwarf stop what he was doing and squint skyward, looking for her through the mist.

Down on the ship, the man with the crossbow continued to inch backwards towards the stern, but took aim and launched another crossbow at Kate. The heavy bolt caused her ectoplasmic defenses to ripple somewhat but otherwise fell away harmlessly; it was too wide to get a direct hit on her armor anyway and her psychic defenses were more than enough to keep her safe. The shooter cursed, panicked, and abandoned reloading his weapon, making instead for the tail of the ship, turning his back to the party.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, Kate takes a ready action. Heavy crossbowman fires and fails miserably, his morale is in the toilet and he's bailing as quick as his bloody shoes can carry him. Still no sign of the guys who hit the river. 

You've worked your list of enemies down from 7 to 3. That's the good news. The bad news is, the dwarf is tanky and Raam and the Half Orc both look like they could dispense some serious damage. So you need to keep thinking ahead of them or if they get on a role they could chop you up pretty bad. 

You still have one bomb-looking item, but as Spoiler pointed out, you'll want to think carefully about how you use it. The other barrels you've seen so far have all replicated a spell of some kind when they were set off. Other tip I'll leave gently is, even though you don't know what the red barrel is, all of the other barrels have required a reagent -- water, electricity, ect. in order to produce their effects. The exception being the acid barrel, though Barbara rather cleverly managed to turn that into a battery anyway.

It's Barbara's turn now, then Raam gets to go. Make it count.

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## JbeJ275

Barbara looks with an amused grin at the two thugs on the docks and the boss thug on the decks before reaching into her pouch for a scrap of shimmering spidersilk. With a few ancient words she flings the silvery web into the air, where it races along the rigging, the deck and the land side of the pier, wrapping around the various foes as it expanded into a vast mass of binding threads.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Cast Web spell, basically they're all entangled. Those who fail a DC 18 reflex save are totally incapable of moving without devoting actions to it. Description is here. https://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/web.htm

Target area is blue circle on roll 20

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## Molan

The dwarf, slow, cumbersome and heavily laden as he was, found himself stuck firm to the docks below, helpless. Raam and the half orc were a bit quicker on their feet, and managed to avoid becoming completely ensnared. Ram looked up at the crane and his eyes flashed a deep violet. He begins to levitate away from the webs, moving twenty feet straight up in the air, his dark purple crystal scimitar flashing in the moonlight. He still had another forty or fifty feet to go before he reached the top of the crane, but he was on his way.

The half orc howled in frustration and fought his way towards the ship. He used his incredible, rage-induced strength to fight and tear against the webs, forcing himself up the side of the entangled ship and slowly hauling himself up, nearing the edge of the balustrade.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Turn order is Stephanie, then Kate. Raam manifested Levitate to move out of the webs and towards your position, the half orc is slowly climbing the side of the ship. The shooter is fleeing and the dwarf is stuck pat in place.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Third round*=  

Stephanie clenched her stomach in an attempt to keep her panic from rising as the muscle-bound, levitating mountain radiating purple menance into the air floated up towards their platform. Lying prone, she needed only tilt her head down to watch the threat get even closer. 

Hookay, she exhaled fearfully while her hands feverishly pulled purple rope and a grappling hook from her back, through with her teeth, and secured it to the side of the platform beside her. The rope was then flung easily over the side. She then stared irritably behind Raam and stabbed a finger twice at him, gesturing to imaginary allies on the weatherdeck. The flared wings of the crossbow reappeared and she shot at the floating captain. 

*Spoiler: Combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. +4 VS crossbow / ranged attack due to being prone. 



1, Move action to tie a rope through the grappling hook. This, like securing a grappling hook, is normally a DC 10 Use Rope for both. I beat those automatically. 

2, Free action to drop the rope over the side (preferably opposite of the side where Raam is floating up, as you can drop an item into an adjacent square as a free action). 

3, 
Bluff to distract: [roll1d20+14[/roll]
Hide behind cover of the platform (relative to Raam): [roll1d20+14[/roll]

3, Standard action to fire the crossbow to keep Raam focused on the prize above him, and not the random piece of rope that was cut up earlier to tie up the human and gnome, so is probably 35 feet.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*19*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*1*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*5*]

----------


## Molan

Raam's face wrinkled with anger, then concern, and he turned back to see where Spoiler was pointing, and was struck in the back by her crossbow bolt. He howled in anger and turned back to face her, but she was hidden again, and his focus was broken. He fell back down and smacked into the deck, caving it in ever so slightly and becoming re-enmeshed into the spiderwebs. 

He was hurt, prone, and covered in webs, temporarily immobilized and now at a huge disadvantage relative to the party.

Above him, Kate swelled to a massive size as psionic power coursed through her, matching and then exceeding the half giant's mass.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Wow that was pretty great. Huge rolls in OOC, overcame Raam's saves and checks. He falls 20 ft. and takes 2d6 fall damage, plus Stephanie's attack...AND failed second save against the Web Spell so now he's really stuck. 

Kate's up -- you're already enlarged, Feather, and it's your turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate attempts to daze the dwarf, interfering with his(?) ability to scale the rope and giving her a rush of competency!
*Spoiler*
Show


[Roll] 1d100[/roll] need 11 or better for daze cast as a level 3 manifester for 1 pp

----------


## Molan

Kate released a psychic burst and stunned her target. Near the stern of the ship, the bleeding archer made it to the edge and jumped off, splashing into the cold waters of the Gotham below and disappearing from view.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara stops casting spells for a moment, choosing  instead to take the more direct approach of firing a crossbow bolt dows towards Raam where he was stuck below.

----------


## Molan

Barbara's bolt punctured the half giant's armor, but just barely. He growled in anger and struggled to get free, but remained stuck. Nearly reaching the weather deck, the half orc was struck by Kate's psychic attack and fell into the water, joining his unfortunate compatriots in the dark below.

The dwarf struggled mightily to move but barely managed to get a few feet through the webbing.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 NGL next time I'm gonna need to pop another wizard into the encounter, my rolls are failing me and Barbara's and Kate's magical/psionic attacks have just been devastating this encounter lol.

Anyway, Raam's still dangerous but at this point the scales are tipping more demonstratively in your favor. Stephanie is up, then Kate, then Raam/dwarf then Barbara.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fourth round*=  

The half orc disappeared beneath the waves at the flash of a psychic flare, the crossbowman had thrown himself overboard the same, and Raam was embedded in the weatherdeck like an ugly discarded ship figurehead. Another bolt was popped into the crossbow almost mechanically. 

Ive got smokesticks, a tanglefoot bag, and one more thunderstone. Again a bolt flew down at the besieged captain before she flicked her head sideways at the red barrel inches away from her. You guys wanna set off some fireworks back at Raams place after this?

*Spoiler: Combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. +4 VS crossbow / ranged attack due to being prone. 

1, Move action to reload. 

2, Standard action to fire the crossbow at Raam again. The only more interesting thing I could do means standing up first which means no crossbow shooting. So, crossbow shooting. 

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*24*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*1*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*7*]

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate jumps off the ledge and moves towards the enemy!

----------


## Molan

Kate leapt off the crane platform and onto the deck of the ship, but her leap was off, and her halberd smashed into the deck beside Raam, severing some of the strands of Barbara's web and sending splinters flying through the air.

Raam yanked and tore at the webs, slowly working himself free, but still failed to right himself.

Down on the docks, the dwarf finally struggled loose, and began pushing himself towards the edge of the web in order to escape it's grasp.

----------


## JbeJ275

> =*Fourth round*=  
> 
> The half orc disappeared beneath the waves at the flash of a psychic flare, the crossbowman had thrown himself overboard the same, and Raam was embedded in the weatherdeck like an ugly discarded ship figurehead. Another bolt was popped into the crossbow almost mechanically. 
> 
> Ive got smokesticks, a tanglefoot bag, and one more thunderstone. Again a bolt flew down at the besieged captain before she flicked her head sideways at the red barrel inches away from her. You guys wanna set off some fireworks back at Raams place after this?


Eh I dont know. Itll get the Justicars sure but not the right kind. Let me fetch the right kind then well throw a party.

Hey! Ugly! You want to surrender now? Shooting you is getting pretty tedious.

With that said she waits a second to check if the thug is considering it, and if not she unleashes another bolt towards Raam.

(1d20+6)[*13*] (+1 for elevation so 14)
(1d8)[*4*]+ (1d6)[*2*]

----------


## Molan

> Eh I dont know. Itll get the Justicars sure but not the right kind. Let me fetch the right kind then well throw a party.
> 
> Hey! Ugly! You want to surrender now? Shooting you is getting pretty tedious.
> 
> With that said she waits a second to check if the thug is considering it, and if not she unleashes another bolt towards Raam.
> 
> [roll0] (+1 for elevation so 14)
> [roll1]+ [roll2]


Raam howls in pain, and for a while he continues to fight angrily against the webs...but he's now bleeding all over the webbing and the deck, and his minions are all either gone or almost gone, with his dwarf companion down on the docks struggling to get away. After a while the half giant finally groaned, rolling his head back against the deck before letting out a long sigh and relinquishing his grip on his massive crystalline great scimitar.

"*You fuggin' &itches are gonna pay for this. You think this is over? Old Man Fox can't protect you. NO one crosses the Thieves Guild and gets away with it.*"

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## JbeJ275

"Well, no-one's crossed us and gotten away with it just yet. I guess I'll see whose record breaks first." Responds Barbara as she walks down the arm of the crane. Hopping onto the ship she retrieves the weapon, and mesures out some silken rope. Though looking to he other two as the more physically capable and likely to succeed in tying the brute up. 

She shoots some unimpressed side eye at the dwarf but given that she seems to have a while yet before he can run she's instead testing whether aa sufficiently unimpressed eyebrow raise can induce surrender when masked. 

"So, once we've got this one tied shall we give the place a once over? It looks pretty tempting honestly. Oh and we should split the other stuff before we head back.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fifth round*=  


So, the masked vigilante drawled to herself as she stared at the Kate sized dent in the deck. Never piss that one off. 

Any woman willing to take a sixty foot leap in armour heavier than all the kit Stephanie carried on a standard breaking and entering was exactly the kind of crazy better left content. Shaking her head in disbelief, Barbara pushed some sanity into the situation by mention of hand-picked Justiciars to help secure Midtown. The confidence artist gave a tight smile. It seemed Oracle was not only already aware how bloated her little army was with more traitors than turn-keys, but had identified a handful that werent liabilities. _She always was better at homework than me. Good._ An example was set when the wizard got Raam to give up, and Brabara started climbing down.

Stephanie stood up finally, eyes roaming to the armoured dwarf stuck on the docks. A brazen clutter of foreign consonants emerged from deep in her throat. Your heist is bust, your crew broken, your captain captured! She had always been self-conscious about her Dwarven, but trusted that the thug fighting against the sticky web like a proverbial fly was a little too preoccupied to notice. Surrender!

*Spoiler: Combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 17. +4 VS crossbow / ranged attack due to being prone. 

1, Move action to stand up. Crossbow still empty. 

2, Standard action to diplomacy roll the dwarf into surrender, -10 because its done in a single combat round, instead of outside of combat. 

Diplomacy: (1d20+8)[*15*] 

Honestly, Im about as interested in saying I shoot the Dwarf as you are in reading it, so I tried to write something slightly more interesting. If he gets away or surrenders, I dont care too much. We have Raam already, so everything else is gravy.

----------


## Molan

The dwarf cursed back at Stephanie in dwarven, angrily giving himself one last heave before breaking the perimeter of the web. He made it about ten more feat down the dock, at this point rasping and breathing heavily after his bitter struggle with Barbara's spell. He turned back to look at the vigilantes' and their prize, then looked back out across the docklands. In the distance, the feint sound of a ringing bell chimed across the warf.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, then rattled off a series of oaths in dwarven before trundling over to a stack of crates on the dock and plopping down, defeated.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate smirks beneath her helmet at the threat of retaliation from the Thieves Guild.

"Oh, you misunderstood.  This isn't about Fox or being paid.  I am after the Guild.  Let them come, it will save us both time."  She raises her giant axe and shouts!
"Run away, rats and vultures!  The Bat will clean up this city, and I am his bannerwoman!"
*Spoiler*
Show

(1d20+3)[*12*] intimidate


*Spoiler: OoC*
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Kate actually has only vague ideas of if Bruce Wayne is alive and less if he cares enough to show up like an Arthurian legend.  But... that's what _she_ knows.  What everyone else know is is she seems pretty sure and that should strike caution in the hearts of evildoers

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie giggled into her mask, allowing herself to indulge for being out of everyones immediate earshot. Wait, I _what_ with a squid? She grinned to herself, seeing that not having every little nuance of Dwarven wasnt the worst fate in Gotham, although the wind had carried away some of the cursing aimed her way. The short thug in heavy armour hauled himself out of the webbing after rejecting her demands, only to collapse several feet later in a puddle of exhausted rage. He wore himself out, Oracle plopped herself on the docks again, and Batwoman warned the Thieves Guild she aspired to gift them all nooses. But that was the end of it  no more bolts flew, no further spells rearranged landscapes. A calm cradled the carnage below. 

Seeing the matter settled, a crescent moon shamelessly revealed itself then. The southerly wind blew cool and gentle off the sea, and the platform rocked only with the light reassurance of a mothers arms. Gathering up her grappling hook, Stephanie contemplatively started pulling the purple rope up and looping it between her elbow and hand. _Merchants Guild have secured their shipment, Thieves Guild are bloodied more than they ever guessed, and families in Midtown will thrive for all of it. Now what?_ Securing the rope to her belt, she climbed down the neck of the crane, much the same as their Oracle did a little before. 

Back on the wooden docks again, Stephanie experimentally tugged at the control panels until the crane bowed its head first beside her, where she removed the red barrel gingerly from the mechanical giraffe, and then set the platform unto the ship. No chance was she leaving explosives in the eyesight of that vengeful, telekinetic half-giant. _Those two can easily deal with the rest. I could just grab the gems and go. Maybe practice my knots before heading off?_ But that didnt help Gotham families any further at all, a city already drowning in its own gang violence, daughter against daughter, father versus son, endlessly. She would never have come close to taking down this hit solo. The half-orc that single-handedly used her mouth as a punching bag altogether proved it. It was hard not to know the truth of it when she turned the corner to see where dying mist had been replaced by artificial webbing. Somehow Oracle wasnt herself tired from all the arcane weaving. 




> "So, once we've got this one tied shall we give the place a once over? It looks pretty tempting honestly. Oh and we should split the other stuff before we head back.


After kissing floorboards and humping rope all night, yeah, a stroll sounds good. Really, all I want for certain are the gems and letter. Even just a copy of it. Anything else basically goes into rent, food and tasteful bondage lessons. Sometimes, it was a good idea to throw others far off the truth, or test where their line was. Especially when you wanted to call that person a friend. And before I forget, thanks. For when you tried to take the heat off with that half-orc playing patty-cake with my face. But, anyway, dwarf first. 

*Spoiler: Jbe, Molan, once over, etc*
Show



Jbe, Im not totally sure what you think we might find, or if you were going to Search the place or not, but you and Feathersnow more than earned a second pair of eyes or an Aid Another, and we have a few minutes before the webbing disappears atm. That should give us time to snoop around more if you like. I automatically succeed at giving you a +2 to Search if you want it. 



Tying the exhausted dwarfs hands behind his back proved itself easy once Stephanie promised the knife was for cutting the rope, not his neck. Were done. And to get practice in on my alibis from now, Im not a fan of seafood. 

*****

Using the grappling hook and her ever shortening purple rope to find herself back on the weatherdeck of the _Chraal_, the blonde clasped her gloved hands before her demurely, as though she hadnt intentionally shot bolts into his arteries only minutes ago. She altogether ignored the still weeping wounds, crimson covering his indigo tattoos and long healed scars. 

Captain Raam, I understand this must be completely new to you, so please allow me to explain a few of the finer details. You should know that this is a knight of an independent House, acting on their behalf, and with full acknowledgement from Lord Fox. That grants them rights to pits and gallows. If she or Lord Fox so chooses, they could place you almost totally outside of the Justiciars reach, behind muffled stone walls, in some gruesome hole, under guard from only their loyalists. All legally at that. Her eyes registered genuine disgust.  

But thats only one cruel trick nobles can pull on those like us, nevermind a Mage College lackey. Now that you've surrendered, its important someone informed is present to ensure abuse doesnt happen further. The better to know what options you truly have, as a man thats graced an impressive position on the most wanted list. If youll allow me, Ill need to secure your hands behind you, before we can escort you back to the Guild Hall. From there we can gain clarity on the next best step forward. 

*Spoiler: Take 10 (Use Rope, Diplomacy/Bluff on Raam, K: Local for laws)*
Show



Use Rope to constrain Dwarf and Raam, Take 10: *34* on each. (+10 bonus, +2 Silk Rope, +12 baseline, +10 Taking).  

Knowledge: Local on laws, Take 10: *20*. I dont expect much to come out of it, just an excuse to say oh I totally know about Gotham law and didnt just make up pits and gallows.

Diplomacy on Raam, Take 10: *28*. Surprisingly, that officially would take him from Hostile to Indifferent, going by rules. This should make him more open to getting tied up to march to the Guild Hall. 
Bluff on Raam, Take 10: *24*. Pretending to be more on Raams side than Kates. Or to cover if Im accidentally making up the pits and gallows thing (maybe that doesnt exist anymore in Gotham, or maybe it never did, who knows, its a place with nobles everywhere).

----------


## JbeJ275

Baraba walks quickly down to the inside of the ship, her eyes closing and a white glow emerging from beneath her mask as she scans the interior of the entire ship in a few moments, checking for any further contraband, hidden smuggling hatches, hiding criminals, incriminating documents or otherwise interesting activity. With this accomplished inside a few seconds she returns to the top decks and smiles at Stephanie, inches from blushing at some of what the dwarf said. Her dwarven tutors had never broken out  that particular kind of language, though she could put all too much of it together.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Using _Detect Magic_ and _Spontaneous Search_ to conduct a quick search of the hold below decks for a 25 result with Stephanie's help.




For all the scares, and as relieved as she was to have not found herself in the hopeless position of going toe to toe with some of these thugs Barbara felt good about tonight. Less revenue for organised crime in this city meant less money for the dirty justicars, and the force multiplying magical components ending up in law-abiding hands was a nudge on the scales in the right direction.

Speaking of those fighting on the side of good she moved towards Stephanie and Kate, while her cheeks went almost as red as her hair upon overhearing one of Stephanie's comments she wasn't deterred from slipping them each a pouch of coin, with 284GP each, as well as a paper of ciphers for Stephanie. The rest was kept for her with 125GP kept aside for their employer to put into the other vigilante's hands. Then, as they made to terrify these two, she ducked away, looking for a Justicar she knew she could plausibly trust to find this scene before other thieves or corrupt justicars did, and planning to meet up with the others near the guild hall.

----------


## Molan

Raam and the dwarf complied, after Kate's threats and Stephanie's work at diplomacy. After Stephanie and Barbara were done sweeping the _Chraal,_ the two thieves followed Stephanie and Kate along the long, humiliating walk back to the Merchant's Guild Hall.

*Spoiler: OOC  - Stephanie*
Show

Pits and Gallows is awesome and totally works with the setting, we're keeping it.


*Spoiler: Search and Detect Magic*
Show

In addition to the cases that Raam had placed on the deck, the Merchant's Guild also had one other case of spell-book-writing material down in the hold. Magic wise, that wasn't all. Your detect magic spell locates two mostly full spellbooks, an unidentified cutlass, an unidentified ring, an unidentified lantern, five unidentified spell scrolls, and two unidentified wands.

The captain's quarters was filled with a series of maps and charts and merchant's guild letters, but with Stephanie's help Barbara locates a secret compartment in one of the drawers with two sealed letters and a bag carrying six sapphires.

You could loot this stuff -- and you'd probably get away with it, but the contents _do_ belong to men who technically work for Fox. Something to consider.

The crew's quarters are mostly filled with booze and worthless items of clothing, but you do also find six unidentified potions. There's two heavy chests with high quality locks, one in the cargo hold and one in the captain's quarters, which you could try to crack. There's a lockbox in the brig with a poor quality lock. 


After Kate and Spoiler began walking the two thugs back towards the Guildhall, Barbara set off into the night. The closest Justicar outpost in Fort Clinton was the Olive Street Stronghouse, but it was also wildly and hopelessly corrupt -- Barbara would have been better off delivering Raam straight to Kysel himself. 

Instead, Barbara had to move eight blocks west to the Saint Mary's Park Watchtower; it was staffed with Gordon loyalists and several of them were even knights. It was impossible to find any hints of dawn in the sky but it was already getting slightly easier to see through the otherwise black streets of the slums. It was going to take a long time to get where she needed to be, but fortunately she was able to find a for-hire carriage driver drinking some stale-smelling coffee along a street corner not far from the docklands. 

*Spoiler: OOC Follow Up actions*
Show

Okay so, Jbre it's only 4cp to get to the St. Mary's Park Watchtower, once youv'e secured Justicar help they can ride you back to the docks.

Let me know if you guys want to take any additional actions IC before I fasttravel you back to the Merchant's Guild Hall; I need to know because when we get there I get to open up with the new PCs.

----------


## JbeJ275

Before leaving the hold Barabara opens up the secret compartment and stares at it with a critical eye. Such compartments make some amount of sense as a security mesure against thieves, but more as a mesure to allow illegal smuggling, and this ship was a large one to be taken in so quietly by the thieves guild. Was there orruption inside the guild the captain was responsible for? Or was Fox himself forced into smaller scale criminality in the light of ramping pressure. Carefully Barabra peeled back the seal and read the contents of both papers, before hurriedly returning them to the seret compartment and going to fetch those local justicars she thought trustworthy.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

If were casing the place after the fact, Im guessing youre checking for evidence of the inside job? Big heists normally prefer plants, and we already know Garrel was bought off, so best to double-check the rot isnt all the way through. Or am I way off? 

That there was more than one way to bribe a Justiciar was well known in Gotham, but Stephanie doubted Merchants were much more expensive, and too few people were beyond the going rate for mage papers anyway. They found themselves searching inside the captains quarters. Oracle busied herself with tearing open sealed letters inside the secretive captains desk compartment. But it was the six sapphires that unashamedly held the light from the eternal torch in Spoilers hand that drew her. The ambivalent House Kyle rogue barely suppressed her grin. _Hello, good graces._ Only after making a showing of glancing at maps did she pluck up a sapphire to appraise the gem by eye, expression even. It was rare to find three kinds of gems in one night out. 

*Spoiler: Sapphires, appraisals and dubious morality*
Show



Take 10 Appraisal: *15.* (+2 Demons Head, +3 Intelligence, +10 Taking)

*If the captain seems corrupt* based on the letter evidence, and later what I might find in the chests, then I will liberate the shiny sapphires. Im not above using a Bluff to distract certain PCs to do it, either. >:)

*If the captain seems innocent*, and theres no obvious sentimental reason the Merchant would want them (evidence its for a fiance, needed for a spell to heal someone), Ill pay at a rate that favours the captain for the sapphires, based on my Appraisal check. Come here, little beauties.  

After the gems and two heavy chests I'm happy to move on to Fox.

 

Stephanie made an intrigued noise at spying the heavy chest across the room, beside the wooden bed. She waltzed over to it only after a preliminary glance at the charts on the shelves, aware of present company. Nobles rarely enjoyed seeing expensive locks easily undone. This chest could be hiding the valuable evidence you need to further break the Thieves hold on Midtown. I might even be able to finesse it, given a few minutes. But Im more a concerned Gothamite helping make the odd citizens arrest against dangerous criminals; potentially damaging the property of family men isnt really a hobby of mine. 

Alibis were a habit that her shifty elf friend had massaged into her skull over the years, and they had saved Stephanie from jail and the grave on more times than she cared to consider. However respectable a front she had insisted on showing everyone at the Mage College, the blonde had still spent the evening armed and kitted to traipse freely around private property, far past curfew, and without any care for the Guild Masters opinion or approval. _Never mind the dead arsonist._ A witness capable of puzzling out practical alchemy, linguistics and arcana, Barbara would know how little Spoiler cared for laws. But people, and plausible deniability, were entirely different. 

Id really need a nod from someone in the know. She unfolded her purple leather case of tools tantalisingly, but looked over at Oracle innocently. Do you think the Justiciars would understand?

*Spoiler: If I get the Jbe nod of approval, Take 20 (Open Lock) twice, and Take 10 on Search and K: Local (The Cat)*
Show



Search: Take 10. Just confirming that, yknow, its safe. Im pretty sure it is, but no one needs a trap to ruin our day. 

Open Lock: It normally takes 1 round (6 secs), so Take 20 takes two minutes. So four minutes total per heavy chest (one in captain's quarter, one in crew quarter). Result *32* for both (+10 baseline, +20 Taking, +2 Masterwork kit).

Take 10 on K: Local. *20* The Cat. I cant remember if Im completely making it up, read it in a wiki page, or if its confirmed, but does The Cat actually likes gemstones?  :Small Confused: 

Basically, Im collecting gems that could be sold at worse, or grant me a little more sway with House Kyle at best later on, maybe. But stealing is only okay when its from morally dubious people.  :Small Smile:  


After the gems and two heavy chests I'm happy to move on to Fox.

----------


## JbeJ275

"It goes without saying that as the largely unaffiliated though unperecuted merenary spellcaster 'Oracle' I have no particular insights into what the Justicars would or would not understand, much less any power to sway them should my assumption be incorrect." Replied Barbara with a knowing smirk.

"However, where I to make an unfounded speculation as to the potential feelings of ... say the heir to justicar's keep, or others with some understand of the pracctices of the justicars, I'd guess that cracking open safes in locations that up until only a few minutes ago were held by ambitious and violent members of organised crime comes close to standard pracctice, and certainly has the potential to be overlooked as long as they're just examined and not say, picked entirely clean.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC: Oracle Investigates Letters, Spoiler Assists*
Show




> Before leaving the hold Barabara opens up the secret compartment and stares at it with a critical eye. Such compartments make some amount of sense as a security mesure against thieves, but more as a mesure to allow illegal smuggling, and this ship was a large one to be taken in so quietly by the thieves guild. Was there orruption inside the guild the captain was responsible for? Or was Fox himself forced into smaller scale criminality in the light of ramping pressure. Carefully Barabra peeled back the seal and read the contents of both papers, before hurriedly returning them to the seret compartment and going to fetch those local justicars she thought trustworthy.


Barbara took a look at the back of the envelopes. One was sealed with green wax, the other in dark blue. Her eyes widened _(Know Nobility: Take 10 for 18)_ when she saw the green seal; it was embossed with the strange serpentine, question mark sigil of House Nigma.

The second letter was graced with a spade, which she didn't recognize. Fortunately, her companion did.

"*That's the emblem of the Dark Market,*" Spoiler whispered. "*I'd heard some chatter that they might be trying to edge back into Midtown, but I ruled it out once we started picking off the Thieves Guild. Seems I wasn't completely wrong after all.*"

Nodding, Barbara coaxed the envelopes open, careful to avoid actually breaking the wax seals. "*That was easy enough.*" she commented offhand in Spoiler's direction. "*Yea, that's because these have already been opened and resealed.*" the thief replied. 

She read each letter aloud, to speed things along. 

_The House Nigma Letter_
" _The letter starts out addressed to 'Your Noble Captainship', and the entire first page appears to be a series of riddles, written in scrawling green ink._

*Weight in my belly, Trees on my back, Nails in my ribs, Feet I do lack. What am I?*

_Directly below the riddle, written in a much shakier, blank-inked hand, is a single word: SHIP. The "S" in Ship was underlined._

*I'm in the book, but not on any leaf; I'm in the mouth, but not in lip or teeth; I'm in the atmosphere, but never in the air; I wait on every one, but never on a pair; I am with you wherever you may go; And every thing you do I'm sure to know; Though when you did it I should not be there, Yet when 'twas done, you'd find me in the chair. What am I?*"

_Once again, below this new riddle, the second 'writer' has added his answer: "Letter O". This time the "O" was underlined._.

The House Nigma letter goes on like that. Riddle after riddle crosses the page...at several points, the person answering the puzzles appears to have gotten frustrated and crossed out his answer more than once. Barbara turned the large parchment over, and felt a chill run down her spine. There was a single message written in back in green, and the letters that had been underlined on the previous page had been assembled in black ink below them.

*I know you're growing impatient, my seaworthy friend. But don't worry. Once Fox is gone, you'll have a new master, and I will no longer have need of your services. Until I have what I want, you'll continue to pass information to my couriers as requested. In the meantime, assemble the clues I've been leaving you. The next -- and last -- letter will lead you to your precious Verena. Aren't family reunions just grand?

 -- L.E.N.*

Below the green paragraph, the recipient of the letter -- presumably the captain -- had spelled out the first major letter in each one of the riddle's answers: S O U      C H A N      I S L."

Barbara shook her head. She was reading an overly-complicated ransom note. Apparently the Captain of the _Chraal_ was passing along information about the Merchant's Guild in order to spare (or reclaim?) someone named Verena.

She looked at the second note. This one was much simpler.
_The Dark Market Letter_

"*Don't think I didn't notice you trying to give us the slip last week. Don't fug around with us Benson; this doesn't have to be a difficult relationship.

Your payment is in the gem pouch. All you have to do is perform your normal run. Once you've offloaded your cargo, our boys at the port will load your return shipment up no problem. All you have to do is keep our -- special barrels -- off of your manifest. We'll keep you compensated, you just return to port and deliver your merchandise. 

Who knows, you keep doing us proud, we might even be able to help you out with your...other problem.

Don't forget; before long the Merchants' Guild is gonna be history and you'll be looking for new employers. Don't be an idiot -- look out for yourself, and your family. You've got a bright future.

 - I*"

If nothing else, they'd discovered what the Sapphires were about.






> If were casing the place after the fact, Im guessing youre checking for evidence of the inside job? Big heists normally prefer plants, and we already know Garrel was bought off, so best to double-check the rot isnt all the way through. Or am I way off? 
> 
> That there was more than one way to bribe a Justiciar was well known in Gotham, but Stephanie doubted Merchants were much more expensive, and too few people were beyond the going rate for mage papers anyway. They found themselves searching inside the captains quarters. Oracle busied herself with tearing open sealed letters inside the secretive captains desk compartment. But it was the six sapphires that unashamedly held the light from the eternal torch in Spoilers hand that drew her. The ambivalent House Kyle rogue barely suppressed her grin. _Hello, good graces._ Only after making a showing of glancing at maps did she pluck up a sapphire to appraise the gem by eye, expression even. It was rare to find three kinds of gems in one night out. 
> 
> *Spoiler: Sapphires, appraisals and dubious morality*
> Show
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Barbara began to reseal the two envelopes, and Stephanie got to work on the chests.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Are you skipping the lockbox in the brig?


She managed to open both of them with just a little patience and effort. The Captain's chest included, among other things, multiple bottoms of rum and whisky, an assortment of fine clothes, crucial letters of marque that licensed the _Chraal_ for it's trade as a ship of the Merchant's Guild, 4,500 gold pieces, an unidentified spyglass, and three unidentified potions.

The ship in the crew quarters was more dubious; an unidentified cutlass and an unidentified dagger, an unidentified suit of leather armor, to unidentified potions, 550 silver pieces, 1,200 copper pieces, 20 Gold pieces, two pieces of what looked like stolen artistic statues, several bottles of rum...and what to Spoiler's eyes was unmistakably a healthy-sized stash of hard drugs. There were also several sets of commoner's clothes.




> "It goes without saying that as the largely unaffiliated though unperecuted merenary spellcaster 'Oracle' I have no particular insights into what the Justicars would or would not understand, much less any power to sway them should my assumption be incorrect." Replied Barbara with a knowing smirk.
> 
> "However, where I to make an unfounded speculation as to the potential feelings of ... say the heir to justicar's keep, or others with some understand of the pracctices of the justicars, I'd guess that cracking open safes in locations that up until only a few minutes ago were held by ambitious and violent members of organised crime comes close to standard pracctice, and certainly has the potential to be overlooked as long as they're just examined and not say, picked entirely clean.

----------


## Molan

*CHAPTER TWO: THE LORDS OF HEAVEN AND EARTH*



Kate and Stephanie returned with their thieves in tow as dawn began to slowly break in the east. It took a long, _long_ time for the sun's rays to reach the docks, blocked as they were first by the Bludhaven Mountains and then by the looming sides of the city itself. Still, a pinkish hue was beginning to find it's way through the sky when they returned to the Guild Hall.

They kept the thieves tied up near one of the large moorings on the docks and made their way inside.

Things here were a bit brighter when they walked in than they'd been the prior evening. For one thing, more of the hall's interior lanterns were lit, illuminating a room that had once been cast in deep shadows. Second, there were more people here. Fox was leaning against a bookshelf, sipping what smelled like freshly brewed tea. He was accompanied by two of his employees, a man-at-arms you didn't recognize and a bookkeeper with an insignia over his heart that denoted a fairly high rank in the Merchant's Guild, for whatever that was worth.

But that wasn't all he had with him. Two other figures now greeted the women as they entered the hall. 

The first was an older man -- not too old to be completely out of his prime, but steadily working his way to the darker side of middle-aged. His hair and slight beard were silver, and he wore a long brown leather coat, over what appeared to be an exquisitely crafted suit of brigandine armor. He had tall dark boots and a belt festooned with pouches and various tools of his trade. A crossbow bolt quiver sat on one hip and a long sword on the other, and a heavy, magically enchanted repeating crossbow was slung over his back -- Stephanie eventually realized it was the one that had been sitting on Fox's desk the night before. He wore a silver shield badge over his left breast, with a heraldry embossed on it that neither of them recognized.

Standing next to him was a much younger looking lad. He had dark, charming features and wore a self-confident grin, along with a dark red tunic and a deep black cloak, lined in gold (the color not the metal). He also wore an insignia on his chest the ladies didn't recognize.

"*Ah! You've made it! And relatively unscathed, I see!*" Fox exclaimed. "*Though I have to express some concern. I seem to remember sending four of you out last night.*"

"*Oracle's coming back with the Justicar's from Saint Mary's Tower,*" Stephanie assured him. "*The other fellow ran off though. Provided us with one hell of a distraction. Not sure if he made it out, but if he did we'll try to track him down for you.*"

"*Ah, I see.*" Fox replied cautiously. "*Made it out...so I take it you all found some trouble last night.*"

Kate and Spoiler regaled Fox and his guests with the short version of their mission; Raam and his Thieves had gone after the Chraal, and they'd been definitively stopped. 

"*We've got a whole batch of presents for you and the Justicars outside. Unfortunately not as many as we'd hoped -- we lost a good number of them in the Gotham.*" (Meaning, of course, the River.)

Fox leaned outside to see Raam and his remaining, miserable looking compatriots tied up to the moorning.

"*Well I'll be damned.*" he shook his head. "*Is that Captain Raam, the half-giant of the Fort Clinton Thieves Guild?*"

"*Oh yea. That's him.*" Kate confirmed.

Fox just shook his head and laughed. 

"*Well Alfred, seems you were right. This might just be the bunch we were hoping to find.*"

"*Come Lucius. I'm always right.*" The two men shared a knowing laugh, before Fox seemed to remember himself.

"*Ah, my apologies ladies. I almost forgot. Please, allow me to introduce my two companions here. This gentleman in the long coat is Sir Alfred Pennyworth, a knight in the service of House Wayne, our one-time benefactors. And this young lad here is Damian Wayne, Lord Bruce's squire.*"

*Spoiler: OOC: Kate, Barbara, Stephanie, Damian*
Show

I hope I didn't speak to much for you. I'm going to leave this here and let you take the wheel for your characters. Also it's none of my business but I'm going to _imagine_ that for the time being Damian may want to explain his last name by claiming he's adopted -- but you do you, Abdiel.


*Spoiler: OOC: Jean-Paul, Barbara*
Show

Your introduction is coming up, I would just like to not 100% railroad the others before moving on. I'm going to give Kate/Damian/Stephanie all a chance to speak and then I'll bring you both (back) in. Jbre you're also not seen since you're just now on your way back with the Justicars.

----------


## MrAbdiel

He visibly tenses at being introduced as a _young lad_.  Not for any good visible reason; he is both young, and a lad; and both undeniably.  But he turns gunmetal grey eyes on Kate and Stephanie, and rakes them over with a stare that offers none of the contagious joy of youth that children in their best aspect exude.  It's a look of distant displeasure; standing at best four and a half feet tall, but managing to look _down_ at them.  It's _almost_ a patrician stare; almost distant because of the aristocratic aspect of his being.  But it's _more_ than that; the kind of look a clerk gives a ledger full of red ink.  It evokes a sensation of being looked over, catalogued by part, and filed away in some dark cabinet stored behind those gunmetal eyes.

He cannot be more than ten years old.

"I must object again, Fox.  Impressive as small successes might feel at this stage, I do not think it wise to rest so much of the estate's interests on such..."

That _such_ does a lot of work, for a moment; holding the sentence open like the jaws of some beast dwelling in the tension, striving to snap shut on the pensive silence.

"...Hobbyists."

The child seems to settle on the word which, while insulting, seems to be an act of restraint on his part.  The sharpness of his mind demonstrated in these few moments must enabled the grasping of much less kind instruments than that, and nothing about him suggests that he has been frontloaded with respect for either of the women before him.  But he speaks again, in that fine, high voice of a child for whom mental maturity has come early and easy, while physical maturity languishes years away in delivery.

"Still.  I _am_ sure that incapacitating Raam's operation for the moment releases some tensions we are under; and that much deserves commendation.  So..."  With his left hand at rest on the pommel of what seems like a mostly ceremonial short sword on his left hip, the right comes up with a loose, splayed-finger roll of the wrist, as if scattering feed to pigeons.  "I commend you."  Like the previous appellation he bestowed upon him, this gesture comes with a manner that suggests he does not consider it as wildly insulting as it might otherwise be taken.  Whatever pretence he is operating under, his commendation has dubious value regardless of how insincerely given it is, or is not.  And the fact remains, as towering and brute as the boy is small and slim, that he is a child, and it is difficult to take him seriously.

*Spoiler: Damien Wayne, Esquire.*
Show

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate nods gravely.  She was career military.   This is about the level of respect she got from civilian leaders, and about the level she would give to vigilantes.

"It is but a start. A seed, if you will.   

I let them know, in no uncertain terms,  House Kane stood beside House Wayne,  and, together, we were going after them.

I am beyond gratified that a member of the ruling house came to ratify my actions and  I apologize for any presumption"

[I]still though, a kid? Really?  They didn't have anyone else?l/i]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Holk*=

*Spoiler: Take 10 (Open Lock) on ship*
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Literally takes 6 seconds to pop that poor lock, so may as well. 

 


*Spoiler: Shipshape*
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My words are law, though my spelling be divine. I wear a mask, for I can be no figurehead. I leave not tracks, but will riddle his ass with my boot. What am I?

Stephanie intoned sardonically before shaking her head in dismay. How sick do you have to be to kidnap someones loved one, and then send obtuse and trying riddles to further torment the people that just want to see them back healthy and whole again? 

The captain is the lynchpin here. He obviously doesnt want to work with Zucco, but will if thats his best angle at getting Verena back. We save her, and the Black Market loses a vital connection. Benson might let us attempt an ambush on Zucco after if were savvy. Unless Im seeing things wrong here. Can you think of another approach?

The single sapphire that had been taken was placed back, to better match the supposedly undisturbed letters. It was then she went over to the captains chest and found a knowing smirk and legalise of the highest caveats answering the question of consent. She didnt fight the grin that bubbled up, for all the odd guilt at it when Robyn was still stuck on that island. 

Well, pfft, yeah. Of course I wouldnt pick the place _entirely_ clean. Everyone knows you go high end or go home. With no care to hint any further at House Kyle connections, Stephanie laid down her stainless steel tools that all were snugly set in the purple leather case. She sat before the captains chest and eyed the cylinder hungrily. The lockpick in the left hand and tension wrench in the right only aided how obviously she relished the challenge over the earlier violence. It was a look she had never fully disguised when in College classes.

But still: Standard practice! Who knew you could crack whatever safes you want as long as a few crooks own it? That is completely my thing!

Much of the conversation soon was composed of an annoyed grunt here and frustrated sigh there while Stephanie tested various picks that matched the keyway. Concentration covered her face like mascara, but her hands worked in diligent unison until a satisfying click announced her triumph. She rested on her haunches as she savoured the difficult yet ultimately quick success. 


 


=*Chapter 2*=

Oh, but Lord Damian is really very correct, uh huh. The blonde bobbed her head along with a yokels refinement that didnt quite agree with her skintight suit or utility belt or weaponry. Im every inch the, uh, hobbyist  this was my first time assisting with a real citizens arrest. She appeared to beam. 

_This  would be so much easier in a different disguise._

I was so lucky House Kane and the Mage College lead with its finest. Stephanie hesitated after, knowing better than to correct Fox that she had been present when he doled out assignments hours earlier. He was either saving face before his peers, or else was entirely too stressed to have recalled who had been present during.

Although   while the Dame directed us back here safely  Captain Raam seemed particularly concerned what would happen to him. Something to do with his high profile, and gallows, or pits, or ladders, or  who knows, but he opened to me some because Im nowhere near as important as anyone else here. Blue eyes tracked in wonderment from the captain of industry, settling on the little lordling second, and finally the silver haired knight. I wouldnt pry in the plans of my betters, of course, if youd rather not mention what you belief I could help in. But would my Lords dismiss me instead?

The rogue shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, letting the actual unease coiling around her stomach drive the movement. Lingering in the presence of nobles that conspired to drag yet another peasant into shadowy schemes was a fine way to end up a scapegoat or worse, she was willing to bet. It had been a fatigued sense of camaraderie and worry that even dour Kate wouldnt have been safe escorting the thugs solo that had brought to the Merchants Guild Hall. With Barbara off to find the five whole trustworthy Justiciars in all Gotham, and the Thieves Guild nearly secured, she only wanted to poke the last bit of important information out of Raam before considering her next moves. The Dark Market needed to be humbled again, and the ship captain deserved a way out, but it was easier playing up the peasant if those details came from Oracle. 

The sooner I can reassure Raam that fair treatment is ensured by the same lord thats kept honest and noble commerce alive and thriving in Midtown all this time, the swifter he might even share some more information. Did you ever hear that odd rumour Raam might not be in charge of the Midtown Guild? She added cautiously, hanging the implication like bait, the sooner to be given leave of this meeting of nobles with obscure schemes.  

*Spoiler: Many Bluffs, Much Diplomacy, So Knowledge. Wow.*
Show



Take 10 Bluff on the many lies, like playing into being a peasant hobbyist that tagged along behind the dour knight, highly intelligent oracle, and hulking Red. *24* 

Take 10 Diplomacy on Fox in particular. Mostly want him receptive to not calling on his right to pits and gallows, and mostly letting me have a chat with Raam. I doubt I need the Diplomacy but he is technically in charge of this entire area, so its easier and less suspect with his say so. *28* 

Take 10 Local Knowledge on Damien and Pennyworth. *20* each. That done, I get it if you dont want to give me a ton of info for instead leaning on Local so much when K: Nobility is a thing. 

And yes, I think theres a shot at maybe getting information out of Raam. Who knows what my chances are, but I can try?

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler on the Chraal*
Show

Instant success, lockbox came open and the lid clanged to the deck. Inside, Spoiler several crystals. One had a core, large crystal with two smaller ones arranged around it, attached by silver wire. Three of them were elongated crystals between 8 and 10 inches long, with runes carved down their sides. The third stone was approximately thumb sized, and glows with it's own inner light. Stephanie found the contents odd; she looked around for an indication of their purpose. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the brig was designed somewhat strangely. There were three standard cells, and two that looked very different. One was marked with runes that looked similar in style and design to the runes on the stones in the lockbox, and was made from a deep black metal she couldn't identify. The other was lined with what looked like elven or arcane writing, and appeared to have plates of led both at the top and the bottom of the cell. Other than the lockbox, there was no outward explanation for the two strange looking cells.


-*Inside the Guild Hall*-

Lucius nodded. "*Go ahead, see if you can get anything else out of him. The more we know about the rest of his cronies, the better, but as long as him and his boys are off the street, things are already looking up.*" With Fox's permission, Spoiler headed outside to talk to Raam.

"*You'll have to pardon Master Damien's attitude,*" Sir Pennyworth said somewhat wryly. "*Gets a bit lonely out on Wayne Castle. Hard for a ten year old squire to know much about things like decorum and manners when most of his friends are empty suits of armor.*"

Damien blanched in defiant opposition, but Sir Pennyworth was clearly in charge, at least here, and he quieted the boy's protests with a knowing look. Damien just rolled his eyes and sighed, ignoring the older knight.

"*Well now, first order of business, my Lady, I'm sure has got to be your bounty.*" Fox continued. "*Stopping Raam's raid was no small thing. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I'm throwing in an extra thousand gold pieces for your trouble. Now, I see here we've got Raam, plus....I count seven captive thieves guilders. Oh, and who was it you said you killed?*"

"*Some elf named 'Aust'.*" Kate answered flatly.

Fox snorted.

"*Holy fug you all are serious. Aust is one of the most famous murderers in Fort Clinton. I really did draw the lottery with you all. Okay so Raam, Aust, seven other captives, that makes 900 gp per our deal, plus 100 gp for the night, as promised. Since you figured out who was targeting my ships, that's the four thousand, and the thousand gold bonus brings you to six thousand gold total. Sound fair?*"

Kate nodded, and one of Fox's attendants prepared a bag of gold and handed it to her.

"*You'll make sure the rest of the team gets their cut, yes?*"

Kate nodded again.

"*Alright great. Well I hope that's not enough for the bunch of you to retire on, because I've got your next job, if you're up for it.*"

Fox leaned back on his desk, sipping his tea.

"*Okay, here's how it is. Ever since Gotham City joined the Empire, House Wayne has commanded incredibly powerful financial positions at the Futures Exchange. It's all a bit complicated -- involves lots of minutiae about grain yields, promissory and speculative notes, and all sorts of other such nonsense. But the bottom line is that by holding those assets, the Waynes -- and by extension, the Merchants' Guild, were always about to frontload massive purchases of Arcana from the College that would have been prohibitively expensive to procure otherwise.*"

"*There isn't actually enough Gold in the Empire to directly fund everything the College makes,*" Pennyworth added. "*Gotham's banks are one of the reasons the trade exists at all.*"

"*Exactly right.*" said Fox. "*So, essentially, we've always had access to troves of Arcana that the most powerful buyers in the Empire -- including the Imperial Army -- have ever wanted before those orders even get made. But once our position in the city started collapsing, our ability to move that Arcana collapsed with it. When the Chraal departs tomorrow afternoon, that will give us a lifeline, but the real game is just beginning. Now, House Wayne was never a wizard house. They were all warriors. But they knew controlling the Mage's College was the key to controlling the city, so for a very long time they invested heavily in anti-magic resources. Our whole horde is currently in cold storage in the Void Vaults, right here in Fort Clinton, Midtown. The Void Vaults are essentially impregnable, but they have to be sealed tight in order to function. Thing is, once the seal is opened, they're vulnerable, and once we actually start moving our goods from the Vaults to the docks, they're way to easy to ambush.*"

Lucius took another swig of his tea, then panned his eyes around the room to make sure he still had everyone's attention.

"*Now. There's some good news and some bad news. The good news is that due to all the interference with the Arcana trade and the corruption in the city writ large, and in no small part thanks to the war with the orcs, demand for Arcana has never been higher. The bad news is, the notes backing all of our assets are coming due, before the end of the year. If we can't start moving that merch in order to cash in, the Guild is doomed. Worse, the note holders will all wind up getting access to the Vaults for coppers. Now that Raam's out of commission, we have a window. It's a short one; his buddies in the Midtown Thieves Guild are gonna be looking for vengeance, but if I can start moving those goods out of the vaults and into the markets again, our fortunes will pretty much reverse over night. We can even start buying our own Justicars, just like everybody else.*" Fox chuckled, and the guard captain standing next to him snorted. 

"*In order to do that, I need to convince my men it's safe to go back there and start moving the Arcana again. Then Captain Mathias and his men here can start emptying the Vaults and get us back on our feet.*"

The captain nodded.

"*The men were afraid of the Thieves Guild and the other noble houses, but there've also been a lot of monster sightings near the Vaults recently.*" he added. "*We need you to go over there tomorrow night -- tonight really, I guess -- and make sure the area is quiet. You'll need to sweep the interior of the Vault's too, so they know it's safe inside.*"

"*Each one of the vaults is like a giant metal warehouse,*" Fox said. "*It'll require a magical key to get in them. Needless to say, a lot of people's fates rest on this key not falling into the wrong hands. I need to know I can trust you.*"

"*You can,*" Kate promised. "*We've got no interest in selling you out now. I fought alongside of the others out on the docks -- they did well for themselves.*"

"*Good.*" said Lucius. "*If you all can handle this operation, it'll be the beginning of a new day in Gotham.*"

"*And that's where I come in.*" Damien interjected with a fiendish grin. "*Can't leave an operation this high stakes to a bunch of amateurs now can we?*"

Fox laughed, and Pennyworth sighed, but neither of them directly disagreed with him. 

"*As it happens, yes.*" Said Pennyworth. "*If it's not too much trouble, we'd actually like you to take young Master Damien along with you. I know what you're thinking -- not usually business for a child. But Damien is a squire to Lord Bruce Wayne, and I've personally helped oversee a good bit of his training myself. I can assure you; he'll be far more help than hinderance. Which in all truth is why we'd prefer to have him tag along.*"

"*If we can pull this off, the reward will be quite a bit more substantial than last time,*" Fox added. "*And I won't dilute your shares with young Lord Wayne here's presence. Deal?*"

Kate nodded, and the pact was sealed. 

"*Now, one other thing, if I may.*" Said Pennyworth.

"*When you're out there, in one of the Vaults, there's a special item I've been looking for. I'm fairly confident it's been in the Wayne family possession for some time, but it hasn't been worth looking for till now, and frankly by the time I found myself needing it, the Merchant's Guild was already in their present day pickle. While you're in the Vaults, look for a box painted all in white. Inside, you'll find a book -- a very strange, very rare, very powerful book.*"

"*How will we know it's the right one?*" said Kate.

"*You truly cannot miss it,*" Sir Pennyworth replied. "*You'll know it as soon as you open the box. It's a book bound in gold, with pages made of strange blue crystal. It's bound in a platinum chain, locked behind a cryptex seal made of mithril. If you have the capacity to look, you'll detect both divine and arcane magic flowing out of it. it's easily the most ostentatious object imaginable, hence the storage in the white painted crate. No one knows what it was originally called, but ancient scholars refer to it as the 'Codex Sanctus Celestialis.' If you find the Codex, I swear by all the gods I shall make it worth your while.*"

Before Kate could answer, there was a commotion outside, and the people inside the guild hall emptied out to investigate.

Stephanie was there, still crouched down in front of Raam, and an armored prisoner wagon had shown up, bearing the sigil of the Justicars. Riding on the wagon were four Justicar Watchmen, and sitting next to the Watchman driving the carriage was Oracle. They were flanked by three Lawmen mounted on horseback, and they began to dismount to round up the Thieves Guilders.

As they did so, a second convoy appeared, from the opposite direction. This crew also had an armored prisoner carriage, but that was about where their similarities ended. The second group was vastly more sinister. The carriage driver was hooded and dressed in black, and four riders rode in front of him; two of them wore long coats and carried insignias marking them as Holy Inquisitors of the Imperial Church and Witch Hunters of House Arkham. The third was dressed similarly, but was marked as a Hunter from House Quinzel. 

The fourth man was a tall, brooding human, dressed in half-plate and carrying a falchion on his hip. All of them wore deep, condescending scowls, and they dismounted from their horses almost as one.

"*That'll be enough, thank you.*" the lead inquisitor said. 

He was a tall, lean, gaunt man, with a face that looked like a piece of fruit had been dried out in the sun. He seemed to be essentially dismissing the Justicars who'd just arrived.

"*Excuse me,*" Fox demanded. "*But on who's authority?*"

Without blinking, the Inquisitor held out a scrawled piece of parchment as though Fox should have been ashamed to even ask.

"*Our authority derives from the divine mandate of the Gods, of their Holy Imperial Church, and of the Emperor himself, Guildmaster.*"

"*I beg to differ my friend,*" Fox shot back. "*I may not be one to argue with the gods, but these men were captured stealing from me. That means I get to decide who's dungeons they rot in.*"

"*Incorrect.*" said the inquisitor. "*We rode here after hearing word from our informants that their might be witchery at work at your docks, Lord Fox. We appear to have found it.*"

He walked forward, looking the thieves up and down.

"*This is Raam, notable half-giant deviant and notorious criminal, is it not?*"

For the first time since the party had seen the great Guild Captain, even since they had beaten him on the _Chraal_, they saw the first hint of fear flash across the huge man's face.

"*And I was also led to believe that this deviant had brought his elf lackey Aust, also another infamous criminal, and illegal and unlicensed magic user with him to these docks. Tell me, where is the witch?*"

"*Aust is dead.*" Oracle snarled. "*His soul at least is beyond your reach.*"

"*Is that so? Then you have done him and the city a great service, whatever-your-name-is. Death may not be the most humane way to reform a witch -- but it is often quite a bit less painful than the alternative.*"

He turned to Fox.

"*In addition to being a rampant criminal this half-giant is a psychic, which by the laws of the Imperial Church is a deviation and a mutation that must be curbed and sterilized. By associating with this mutant, his men have also been tainted. The Imperial Writ gives us cause to bring these men back to the Arkham Witch's Asylum, where they can be reformed. And...purified.*"

Neither the Justicars, nor the captive Thieves Guilders nor the Merchants Guild members looked particularly pleased about this, but after some argument and deliberation, eventually the lead Justicar gave in.

"*They've got jurisdiction,*" he eventually admitted, sounding defeated. "*Church writ says the Inquisition -- and by extension, their servant houses -- get dibs on rogue mages, psychics and anyone else they declare deviant. Including their associates. I'm sorry, Lord Fox.*"

Fox sighed, and eventually nodded.

"*Very well, Inquisitor,*" he said while looking queasy. "*Take them away.*"

The lead inquisitor turned to one of his associates.

"*Inquisitor Strange, escort these men to the wagon.*"

With that, the Arkham men began to round up the Party's captives. Once they'd been locked inside the metal carriage, Fox crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

"*We about done here?*" he huffed. "*Not that I haven't enjoyed your visit...Inquisitor.*"

"*Hardly.*" the inquisitor snapped back. "*These mercenaries you've assembled, they're protecting your interests now, Guildmaster?*"

"*Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Yes I suppose they are.*" said Fox.

"*Very well. Since that wagon is now holding approximately half of Raam's crew, I can only assume you'll be sending them after your Vaults next.*"

"*No offense, Inquisitor, but that's really none of your damn business.*"

"*Any magical activity that happens in this city is my business, Guildmaster. Of that I can assure you. Either way, it doesn't matter whether you admit it or not. It's an open secret that the one and final chance for your Guild's survival rests on paying off your arcana calls, or this Guild will crumble and you with it. Now that Raam is behind bars you'll have no choice but to try to move your merchandise.*"

"*You're not getting into those Vaults, Inquisitor.*"

"*No, of course not. But you are, Lord Fox. Or at least, your hired swords will be visiting them. And that currently represents a problem for the Inquisition.*"

"*Really, and what's that, exactly?*"

"*We've heard the rumors of monster sightings near your Vaults. You know as well as I do the most likely cause is rampant magic pollution, possibly even seepage from your own wares. We must know what's happening near the Vaults in Fort Clinton, so our agent will be joining your hired help.*"

The inquisitor turned to his companions, and gestured towards the armored man still sitting on his horse. He climbed down, and paced towards Fox and the party, his face set with grim fierceness.

"*This holy warrior had a different birth name than the one he uses now, but that's not information you need burden yourself with. You can refer to him simply as; Azrael. He is one of our holy agents, and I am sending him along with your hired thugs to investigate these Vaults. He will report back to us if any malfeasance is discovered. And rest assured, if it is, the Inquisition will be returning to claim it's due.*"

"*I see. And if I refuse?*"

The inquisitor stepped in close, till his fetid breath was palpable for the whole party.

"*Then the next time I return to these wretched docks, you insolent dog, I will not be greeting you with words. And I will do so at the head of a small army. You will not stand in the way of the Church, Lucius Fox. Do not mistake me for some common thieves guilder. That would be sorely misguided.*"

"*Okay, Inquisitor.*" Fox said coolly. "*I suppose that's clear enough.*"

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

*Spoiler: No seriously, this is just for Damien.*
Show

*Spoiler: Okay, you asked for it, spoilers ahead!*
Show

No one other than Alfred, Bruce and _maybe_ Fox officially knows this, but you are in fact the bastard child of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al'Ghul. After his parents died, Bruce Wayne famously left Gotham, though most Gothamites don't know what he was up to once he departed. In fact, he became an adventurer, and found a world full of injustice that needed righting. This is how he first came in contact with Raz A'Ghul and the League of Shadows; they'd claimed to him that they wanted to rid the world of evil just like he did. During his exploits and training with the League of Shadows, Bruce had fallen in love with Talia, a union that, years later, would eventually lead to you.

Bruce fell out with the League, well before he wound up returning to Gotham. _When_ he returned, he found that they'd set up shop in it's underground sewer network, and had intended to destroy the Mage's College and with it, the city. The Dark Knight had stopped them, and Raz Al'Ghul was killed. Bruce left his battles with them with your younger self in tow, and had you raised at Wayne Castle as his semi-son and protégé. 

This is all relevant because it means you know things the others don't. For one, you actually do know the Dark Knight's identity; most everyone else is mostly speculating. In addition, you know why Sir Alfred Pennyworth is after the Codez Sanctus Celestialis. About six months ago, Bruce had left Gotham to do battle with a powerful vampiric monster in a far away castle. He'd slain the beast, despite being badly wounded, and Alfred and Bruce had both believed that a grave threat to Gotham had been repulsed.

That was, until a _very_ similar if not identical monster started attacking people in Gotham at night. Either the other beast wasn't truly dead, or it had friends or relatives who followed Bruce back. Whichever it was, Bruce and Alfred are determined to destroy it, and after a great deal of research they discovered that this magical book might just be the ticket that will finish it for good. Both the Dark Knight and Sir Pennyworth have been scouring the city at night for the beast, trying to prevent it from killing more innocents. You've been assigned to follow the mercenaries and find the Codex now that Fox is able to open the Void Vaults. The trick is, you've been ordered not to mention any of this to your new companions at this time. They will have no idea this thing is out there.




*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Bluff passes, Diplomacy on Fox passes. Diplomacy on Raam passes; what did you want to ask him? K. Local for Pennyworth and Damien reveals almost nothing; Pennyworth is vaguely associated with the Waynes but you don't know anything else.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Everyone feel free to take any of the following checks, 10's allowed: Listen, Spot, Diplomacy, Sense Motive, Intimidate, or Knowledge. I'll answer whatever you want to know. Floor is open to RP. Sorry if anyone got steamrolled, we can always go back and patch things.


*Spoiler: Azrael*
Show

It makes the Arkham inquisitors deeply uncomfortable that the Merchant's Guild moves arcana at all, but their trade is technically not illegal. Still, they have the MAXIMUM disdain for everyone here who's not them. The other Inquisitors are: Inquisitor Hugo Strange, Inquisitor Rhalgo Hex, and Inquisitor Mannfred Quinzel. They've got spies inside the Merchants' guild just like everyone else, and they've watched Fox's efforts to stay afloat/alive. One such spies captured a man named Garrell earlier tonight, which is how they knew to show up right at this moment. They're not actually so much interested in the Vaults as they are what they think you might find inside -- there is a sacred book they want you to look for in the Vaults, and return to them: the Codex Sanctus Celestialis. They're expecting to reconvene at the outskirts of the block the Vaults sit on and wait for the party to return, after which you will help them hold up and arrest the party and seize the book. If you can dig up any dirt inside the Vaults that they can use to shut Fox down, the better.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: OOC*
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Chaarl: I was there, Read Elvish so I'm gonna roll Arcana (1d20+9)[*16*]


Just Gonna Take 10s

Listen: 20
Spot: 12
Sense Motive: 15
Knowledge (Nobility): 18. When did that wastrel idiot Wayne pick up an (illegitimate???) son? Is this known or rumoured in the city? Also what's known abot the Pennyworths?
Knowledge (Arcana): Codex Sanctus Celestialis? And uses therof.: 19
Knowledge (Local): 21 How absolute is the authority of the inquisition and how much can either Oracle, a random Mercenary or Young Lady Gordon heir to a noble house get away with... monitoring them. 



"Well, that was a delight." Oracle says, her voice rich with sarcasm and far behind the backs of the leaving inquisitors, choosing instead to commiserate with the Justicars she had brought. "They met a psychic once so they all go to the psycho and corpse factory. Into a building where his magic is the only type that's still worth a damn. It's a passwall prison, I'm telling you." 

With this, and other apologies and commiserations Oracle shows the assembled justicars away, and regarding Azrael and the others as far from trustworthy takes the oppurtunity of being out the room to reshape her final magics into a divination of _Detect Thoughts (DC 18)_. Following this she takes her time returning to the meeting, walking in slowly and deliberately. 

So, that was... awkward. Hi Fox, i trust from that you at least got some of the good news, though there are a few concerns about your man Captain Benson you might want to be kept abrest of that have made themselves known. Sir Pennyworth, I assume you have some intrest in this matter from the Waynes, and um... who's the kid?"

The last at least is said with a look that coud be described as fundamentally unimpressed, the whole 'patricians stare' thing was something noble heir got used too after a while and while the kid was winning the junior leagues he couldn't hope to compete with some of the adults in this city.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC: Oracle*
Show

Knowledge (Arcana): The the cells are treated to contain special prisoners; the one with elf script is plainly designed as an anti-magic spell; it's sheer proximity made your skin crawl, as if there was a hole in the middle of the ship. The other one is more of a mystery, but based on what you've seen so far you can guess it's purpose; the crystaline implements appear to be psionic tools. That, combined with the arcane cell across from it, would suggest the purpose of the second cage.

Listen: Nothing notable, other than panicked whispers among the thieves when they find out they're going to Arkham instead of a justicar jail or Blackgate.

Spot: Nothing significant.

Sense Motive: No unique hunches or insights, other than the obvious that the Inquisitors are generally not there for anyone's well being other than their own.

Knowledge (Nobility): Bruce Wayne does not have a son, bastard or otherwise, that anyone knows about. He _has_ been rumored to have picked up a squire, but Damien's surname appears to be adoptive. Why Bruce chose to adopt this boy over any other is a mystery, since Wayne does not actively participate in public life among the nobility, any such adoption has not received any formal recognition. There have been rumors of him acting like a playboy and even rumors he was dating one fling or another, but it all sounds like gossip to your ears.

Knowledge (Arcana): The Codex Sanctus Celestialis is essentially a legend, like Excalibur. In this world, that doesn't mean it _doesn't_ exist, just that it's really all rumors. It's fundamentally a divine item, said to contain the most powerful spells imaginable. Their primary purpose being the destruction / expulsion of evil.

Knowledge (Local): The Inquisition is one of those organizations that is untouchably powerful on paper, but not as much in real life. Essentially they are an arm of the church and have multiple sworn "lay houses" that serve underneath them. Since the church always gets to pull the "god" card on paper their will is unquestionable. In practice however their ability to toss around their influence is dependent on the same politics and power calculations as every other noble house in the Empire, so if they overextend themselves there's nothing necessarily stopping an unrestrained noble house from stomping their men out and blaming it on someone else. So really their power is circumstantial -- right now, in this moment, they're very powerful, and they're very powerful when they're visible or at Arkham. But their reach is not absolute -- if you wanted to start spying on them or even pushing back, there are ways to do so. It's all about building power.


*Spoiler: OOC: Azrael*
Show

Make a will save.


*Spoiler: OOC: Robin*
Show

Make a will save.


Sir Pennyworth smiled.

"*Ah, to a certain extent miss. I just finished telling Lord Fox and your comrade here that I'm looking for a magical book. She's agreed to fetch it for me. And this here is young Master Damien Wayne, Squire to Lord Bruce.*"

Fox nodded.

"*Quite a bit of good news, actually. We're getting affairs in order for your next assignment. But what's this about Captain Benson? I hope you're not about to tell me he's unavailable; the Chraal needs to sail tomorrow and Benson's the most reliable captain I've got!*"

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## ebarde

Azreal sizes up his newfound companions, eyes trained over the group looking for any hint of deception or sin. 

"Greetings."   he said, not breaking eye contact.

*Spoiler*
Show

Detect Thoughts save *(1d20+5)[19]* Sense motive check  *(1d20+2)[8]*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien's gunmetal eyes watch Stephanie with that unpleasant, analytical focus.  His impressively full eyebrows furrow a little as she performs, and he cannot completely shake the sensation that he is being mocked; but his instinctive underestimation of the "hobbyists" is a sly ally to Stephanie's ruse, and a moment later his gaze slides away, content in its misjudgement.  Kate's phlegmatic acceptance earns a short nod from the short squire, his eyes darting briefly to Pennyworth and back; but it doesn't take much cunning to discern from his silence on that matter that he knows little about the relationship between House Wayne any other, and is attempting to triangulate an appropriate posture from the elders in the room without directly expressing his weakness.  It's Pennyworth's "attitude" comment that comes closest to cracking his composure.  Minimal as he is, the young master does not appear to enjoy being minimized, and it sets him to pacing.

As Fox and Pennyworth run down the coming plan, he stalks about the room with hands clasped behind his back; his noble attire, stylized as dark leather with brass chasing, uncreaking or gleaming as he goes - revealing it to be merely stiffened cloth to affect the design of armor, popular among nobles who desire the appearance of rugged soldierhood without the perils.  He seems to grow bored quickly as the details unfold, and finally injects himself into the conversation.




> *"Good."* said Lucius. *"If you all can handle this operation, it'll be the beginning of a new day in Gotham."
> *
> *"And that's where I come in."* Damien interjected with a fiendish grin. *"Can't leave an operation this high stakes to a bunch of amateurs now can we?"*


It's the first naked emotion he has shown, pushed to the surface of his countenance by impatience: a child's desire to be invited to play, alloyed to what might easily be sadism... or, more generously, a more mature thirst for purposeful action.  But when the commotion begins, he lapses back into stoic silence, taking a position on the extreme left of the group as the interaction with the Inquisition unfolds.  His disdain for them is indistinguishable from his general aura of disdain.  He waits until the unwelcome guests are escorted away, and they are left with just Azrael representing their arcane interests, before raking over the new operative with the same _disassemble-and-archive_ look he gives everyone at first glance.  "Azrael, then.  I hope you are more subtle than you look.  What skills do you possess, that will offset the liability you present here?"


And then, without waiting for an answer, he turns to the side and lets out a short, sharp whistle.

The response to this whistle manifests about ten seconds later (perhaps during Azrael's response, or as Barbara reacts to Pennyworth's introduction of the squire), and overrides the attention he otherwise would have given to asking a needling question of Oracle.  With a clickety-skittering of claws on courtyard tiles, massive hound; jet black fur short and brushed glossy.  The beast is massive - pony sized, more than dog sized - and for those familiar, seems to be one of the hardy breeds that halflings historically breed for riding, hauling, and mounted racing.  The short stature of the boy, and the manner that the beast pads finally to a halt beside him flank-first, maps their visual array easily as master and rider.  He moves to the front of the dog, takes the big, black, jowelly head in his palms, and addresses it like an equal.

"We shall be working with these, Titus.  Go ahead, and get your sniffs in now."  This, and a clicking of the tongue that seems to be the _actual_ command, has the effect of taking the handsome creature off _attention_ and into a more relaxed state, in which he quite naturally detects the lack of hostility his pack has for those present, and goes about _getting his sniffs in._

*Spoiler: Titus*
Show

Like this, but the size of a small horse.

Titus will wander in turn to Kate, Steph, Barbara, and Jean-Paul, sniffing and assessing.  He's a quiet and somehow _professional_ riding dog who will be content with a chance to familiarize himself with the general scent of each, but will respond in proportion to affection he receives - approving panting for pats, perhaps even a big ol' lick on the cheek for enthusiastic scruffling of the neck and face.

----------


## Feathersnow

_An Inquisitor! Just what I need."_   These days, the Church took a more enlightened view of women of her persuasion, her time in the military exempted her from laws regulating her psychic powers,  and her diabolic ancestry came through a legitimate wedding and was thus technically not suspect...

None of that really stopped her feeling that things had gone down hill fast.  At least, with all the nobility represented in her group, it was unlikely she would disappear into some dark vault somewhere  without comment.

----------


## JbeJ275

> Sir Pennyworth smiled.
> 
> "*Ah, to a certain extent miss. I just finished telling Lord Fox and your comrade here that I'm looking for a magical book. She's agreed to fetch it for me. And this here is young Master Damien Wayne, Squire to Lord Bruce.*"
> 
> Fox nodded.
> 
> "*Quite a bit of good news, actually. We're getting affairs in order for your next assignment. But what's this about Captain Benson? I hope you're not about to tell me he's unavailable; the Chraal needs to sail tomorrow and Benson's the most reliable captain I've got!*"


"Well in this city, I'm afraid pressures can be applied to the most reliable and least deserving of men. Tell me, do you know if the captain has a Verena in his life? A wife or daughter perhaps?"

As Oracle says this she hands over the pilfered letters from Nigma and the Dark Market for Fox to look over. 

She also sruffles Titus' neck as he comes close once she's handed off the letter. And lets Juluis her bat familiar pop out of his position in an internal pocket to climb out onto her shoulder, and look down at the dog below, staying out of its reach but letting it get a sniff in.

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## Molan

A deep frown crossed Fox's face as he read the letters.

"*My my, we really are in a pickle aren't we?*" he handed the letters to Alfred, which was odd, since Pennyworth didn't really work for the Merchant's Guild.

"*Zucco's using your ships for drug running again,*" he observed. "*thought we'd nipped that in the bud already.*" 

"*We had,*" said Fox, "*But then Zucco's lousy arse got back out of prison. This was only a matter of time. At any rate, that's not really what concerns me. It's the Nigma letter.*"

He turned to towards Barbara, his demeanor now serious. "*Verena is Captain Benson's daughter. The Nigma's are one of the Banker Houses -- a bunch of rotten and corrupt aristocrats as you'll ever meet. The Bankers had quite a lot to do with our misfortune once the Wayne's were gone, so Nigmas sniffing around our affairs doesn't necessarily surprise me. But if Verena's been taken captive, that's a major escalation. And a crisis, not to put too fine a point on it.*"

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Holk*=

*Spoiler: Shipshape, magic cell check*
Show



When the nature of the brig was demystified, Stephanie quite deliberately strolled up to the threshold for the cell identified to be dangerous to arcana users. Taking a small steadying breathe, she stepped past the open door into the cell, and blew it out slowly. The interior of the small cell was eyed warily, for the little there was to see. But she searched internally for something deeper, the sweet lilting connection that had been there since she had become close friends with Robyn. Her eyes closed, all else shut out. After a moment she removed herself from the cell. 

Needed to check something. See if a cage is enough to stop... The eighteen year old placed her hand over her heart, where the symbol of Estanna stayed hidden beneath it all. Finally, she shrugged. Anyway, we found a ton of drugs and proof of blackmail. Plenty for an investigation, if thats what you want. But its not exactly clear whos taking Zuccos orders at port, so Id rather not mess with belongings yet.

With that, she was finally ready to leave the ship. 

 

*Spoiler: Checking the cell, thanks Jbe, question to Molan*
Show



Jbe, thanks for the arcana check. I wouldnt have guessed the brigs were built to hold magic users, but it was bothering me I couldnt guess the real reason. 

Molan, does the Exalted feat Nymphs Kiss still work in the anti magic cell? Might very well get involved with Arkham someday, so better to know ahead of time. 

 


=*Chapter 2, pre inquisition*=

Stephanie let her tiredness seep through when she walked outside the Guild Hall into the ever lightening pink birth of a new day, pausing before the captain only long enough to get her own fables clear. She grimaced at the line of criminals tied next to the moorings before beginning.  

Fox is considering the gallows. Says he doesnt trust the Midtown Justiciars any, but hes not in love with the PR for being a Merchant of Death either. His Guild needs to at least appear more respectable than the Black Market to avoid bard tales of ledgers running red. The Wayne brat is goading him to hang you all regardless, but the dame is arguing her House can hold half. All said, no ones opinion actually matters beyond Fox himself. His Guild, his call. 

Spoiler shook her head before she knelt. Raam, everyone says youve got hooks in the Lawmen; but theyre clueless how deep. Ya need to give up enough to make Lord geriatric look good, and have false security. At least one high up Midtown Justiciar has got to get thrown under the horse here. If you can pad it with a few lesser Lawmen, great; but thats your best bet to slip the neckties theyre considering. At least then youll probably get picked up by a bunch of Justiciars outside Midtown influence while the Gordons take a week or whatever to think they cleaned up here. Then its all easy when everything's calm. Bust out on your own, or else get your remaining Midtown Lawmen to put in a few requests to transfer captives back into their newly reformed prison system. Then waltz out the front door for all I care.  

*Spoiler: Take 10s*
Show


Bluff (*25*) and Sense Motive (*17*) to Raam.

Both are with level 5 in rogue.

 

=*Chapter 2, enter the inquisition*=

 After the conversation with the Thieves Guild members, the first armoured carriage pulled up flanked by Lawmen aplenty. Stephanie stood up then, and calmly stepped back. Rather than their taking charge of anything, however, the second carriage of some of the cruellest thugs in Gotham appeared instead. _No way. How?! Who tipped them off?_ The gaunt, lead inquisition asserted himself and Spoiler faded into the background as Fox argued. Even with the verbal skirmish careening back and forth, there were entirely too many witnesses doing entirely too much from too many different groups. Merchant dockhands, Justiciar Lawmen, nobles of several strips. Even those she did see could have been bribed off by another group. Sneaking around, loosening the ropes, rigging the cages locks to give way; helping these thugs escape the torture ahead of them was no easy ask. Someone would notice, so she opted for edging towards inquisitor Strange instead.

Seven above, you really are real inquisitors? At some point during the endless ongoing arguments, the solid silver hearth symbol of Estanna had appeared outwards her black leather armour. Sir, I dont wish to bother your Gods given work, but I might never again have the chance to thank those helping purify Gotham, one deviant at a time. Something like this must take so much patience and understanding.

She glanced over the jailed thieves like a child might zoo animals. Hearth-tender willing, theyll return to their families as better men. How long does it take to heal them? May I pass a message on to encourage their loved ones in the meanwhile? 

*Spoiler: Take 10s (Bluff, Diplomacy)*
Show


Diplomacy (*29*) Inquisitor Strange, because hes the one loading them on the wagon. 
Bluff (*25*) to lie, and also pass complex secret message to Raam. Who do I tell to help bust you out?
Sense Motive (*17*) on Raam to ensure its hopefully not a set up.  

Both are improved with level 5 in rogue.

 

=*Chapter 2, Vault-sniffing hounds*=

*Spoiler: Will Save to avoid Detecting Thoughts, DC 18*
Show


Will Save: (1d20)[*18*] 

 

Stephanie gave a small wave when the inquisitions leftovers gave what passed for a greeting, but a short, sharp whistle punctured any reply she would have offered. A midnight black hound the size of a pony came along from wheresoever it had been resting. The glossy coat showed the boy loved his pet deeply, to say nothing of Damien holding its jowelly head in hands affectionately. Nothing shy of cute, until the presumption she would allow the animal to sniff at her like contraband.

_Yeah, about letting the little lordlings hunting dog get my scent now, so he might track me later? Not today, Heironeous. Not today._ 

Aww, he wants sniffs! Lemme do ya one better. A distinctly black stick appeared in her hand, which she wagged in the air with an enthusiastic and surprisingly authentic grin while she eyed the pet. She backed away from the face high hound to gain room to throw. Oh! Ya want da stick, boy? Lez go get da stick. Fe 

The stick suddenly snapped in Spoilers hand in an explosion of smoke, and she feigned a few coughs as the immediate area around her filled with the black soot. When the thick cover started to lesson, she was still at the center of it, batting and swatting at the dusky air to disperse it. 

*Spoiler: More MrAbdiel Prompted Take 10s*
Show


Bluff (*25*).

Break the Smokestick in my own hand to temporarily flood the immediate vicinity in, well, smoke. Titus and I should obviously be unharmed regardless, but it gives SOME kind of protection from doggie getting (accurate?) sniffs in. Not that us completely lawful, totally-not-House-Kyle-associated PCs have anything against mr hunting hound getting our scent. Not at all.  :Small Smile: 

 

Okay. So. Doused mercifully in what made an effective smoke cover in most situations, the woman offered one final cough. Maybe no stick. Sorry, Titus. 

*Spoiler:  Done*
Show


Yay end of post.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien sighs with open derision at Spoiler's display of _totally legit incompetence_; Titus skittering back from the smoke blast and going into a fit of dog sneezes.  The child-who-would-be-Wayne gives Fox and Pennyworth a look that can openly be read as something that translates to _this bodes poorly_, before trotting over and reaching up for a chance to look at the letters himself.

"Then we have two objectives for the day, and a third shortly after.  We must secure the Void Vaults at night, including the seizure of the aforementioned tome.  Additionally, if we plan for the Chraal to leave on schedule with a captain who is even moderately reliable for our interests, we need to find and free Verena.  Since our night is likely to be given over to the Vaults, that leaves us the late afternoon to resolve that problem, since I suppose you all need to _sleep_, too."

*Spoiler: OOC Stuff!*
Show

Naturally, Damien's attempt to take charge and set the agenda here is purely IC.  Since he's neither recognized as a legitimate child of the Wayne family nor a legitimized bastard, he has no formal power in this situation (or any other!); so feel free to appeal to Fox over him, or bullrush past his bossy-boot conjecturing.  As the neckbeards say, _I'm just roleplaying my character._

Molan!  1. Damien is trying to catch a peek at those letters.  I assume he'll be permitted to see them, but I thought I'd make sure.

2. Now that I know a bit more of the secret spoilery stuff that Damien knows, I wonder if I might be permitted to use some of my unspent gold on a few light purchases that Damien is likely to have made with such knowledge?  Nothing crazy, just...

*Spoiler: Secret DM Business.*
Show

...Potions, mainly.  Damien is flat _boned_ fighting undead unless he can find a way around their immunity to sneak attack, so I'm hoping he could have purchased some potions of _Grave Strike_.  They'd be 50 gold for a level 1 spell potion, and it would mean he spends fifty GP and an action to set him up to potentially Sudden Strike an undead on the next action.  Burning gold for a radical contingency plan seems a very _Wayne_ thing to do.  Plus, he'd like some _Hide from Undead_ potions.  He'd have bought a bunch intending to be for his own use, but I'd like to bring enough for the whole class.  Call it... 5*Grave Strike Potions and 5*Hide From Undead Potions, for a total of 500GP worth of undead-fighting alchemy.  Let me know!

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## ebarde

Azreal looked down at the child. "If I wasn't capable of dealing out death, I wouldn't have received this task. Is that enough reassurance?" 

The holy warrior then notices the animal sniffing on him, and sighs in contempt, realizing this was gonna be a long night. But no matter, he had a duty to uphold and the will of the gods will not be denied.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler on the Chraal OOC*
Show

Great question. Nyph's Kiss _does_ work against anti-magic zones, so you're clear in that respect. I could drag out a detailed explanation for my thinking but if you're happy with "because I said so" then you can enjoy using the feat and we can leave it at that. Love that you're using Exalted stuff frankly it's an underappreciated source book.


*Spoiler: Spoiler, Private Interrogation of Raam*
Show

Raam folds, somewhat.

"*Listen, you don't understand. I only run Fort Clinton. There are three other Captains in Midtown besides me in the Thieves Guild alone. If you start picking off bought Justicars in Midtown, it's not me you're going to have to worry about, it's Kysel Velnire. He's the Underboss of Midtown -- he answers directly to Boss Falcone himself. You've been on the streets long enough to know that if Velnire comes down on you, there's not gonna be any place you can hide.*"

Stephanie persisted, and as the carriages began to near the docks, the sound of horseshoes clopping against the cobblestones growing ever louder, Raam broke down a bit further.

"*Listen, I can't tell you who all of Velnire's Justicars are, but I can tell you where to look, alright? Gordon's house is full of traitors; if you really wanna find out why the Thieves Guild rules Midtown, you really don't need to look farther than Justicar's Keep. Gordon's got that drunk Bullock in command of every Bloodhound in the city; why do you think none of Gotham's murders ever get solved? Bullock's primary beat is Columbia Point; most of Gordon's actual loyalists are in Red Hook and the West Side. Lot of former Dent holdouts there too, those neighborhoods are pretty clean. The watch commanders in Fort Clinton and the Village are stationed in the Olive Street Stronghouse and the Colgate Motte. Honestly, that's all I can tell you.*"

It wasn't much, but Spoiler could tell that at the very least, the half-giant wasn't lying. He was focused more now on his own preservation than anything else, something she could always count on the thieves to do when their chips were down. The implications of what he'd said were ugly, however. (K. Local: 10) The Bloodhounds were the Justicar's investigators and manhunters; they were some of the few members of the organization who had an actual reputation for ruthlessness, bravery and efficacy. Unfortunately, Raam's insinuation was that the Bloodhound Commander, "Bullock", was corrupt and running the neighborhood that Justicar's Keep _sat in._ Not great news.

If Red Hook and the West Side were still under the control of Dent and Gordon loyalists then she could at least scratch those off as places to look for bad Justicars. It wasn't then hard to imagine that the garrison commanders in the Village and Fort Clinton were at least as rotten as Bullock was. Maybe if she worked alongside the others, they could gather a bit more intelligence and bring those commanders down.

Then again, the conversation did leave her with a sinking feeling in her stomach. If they were going to clean up the Midtown Justicars, then Raam was right; their path would lead them on a collision course with Kysel Velnire. This had the potential to get very, very ugly.


*Spoiler: Spoiler and Strange, Private Conversation and Dice Rolls*
Show

The big, grim looking man's dour visage broke into a wide, unnerving grin as Stephanie spoke. "*Ah, a loyal Maiden of Estanna. How positively innocent. It is good, child, that you let your faith guide you so.*" he looked over at the captured thieves, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"*Curing deviants like these will take quite a long while, I'm afraid. Especially this big one,*" he leaned down so that his face was hovering just above Stephanie's own, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. "*You see, we don't actually know everything that we'd like to about the powers that afflict him, or the effects it may have on his compatriots. So while we work on their...rehabilitation...we shall also need to study them, as well. In any case I much doubt that these men actually have any families to report back to. But...*"

He looked out over the attendant captives, his eyes eventually landing on the dwarf and gnome at the end of the line.

"*If any of those demi-humans' kin in the dwarf quarter were willing to make some donations to the Witch Hunters, we might eventually see a way to transfer those two to Blackgate. The dwarves tend to be less susceptible to magical corruption, and the gnomes have the good sense to keep their activities within the letters of the law. There's quite a bit of gold in the Dwarf Quarter, of course. But what we most require are magical and alchemical devices. So if you truly serve the faith, you could pass that message along.*"

Inquisitor Strange did an incredibly poor job masking both his general malice and his greed. The influence of the dwarves and gnomes made downtown one of the richest metropolises in the entire Empire, even without the rest of the city. He clearly saw his two diminutive captives to be more useful as bargaining chips then inmates in need of rehabilitation. That being said, it didn't seem like he had much interest in rehabilitating Raam or the rest of his men, either.

Raam had used up most of his psionic power during the fight on the Chraal, but his eyes flashed one last time before his powers abandoned him, and Spoiler experienced a sudden jolt as a single thought passed through her skull.

+*FIND VALE*+

The thought thundered through her cerebrum with the force of the half-giant's panic. Spoiler still had no idea how the Inquisition had been tipped off about the docks, but it was clear that Raam had been just as shocked by their arrival as she was. The only difference, he and his men were the ones being carted away.


*Spoiler: More Spoiler Stuff: Final Roll results*
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Boy oh boy have you been busy.

Okay so Titus likes you, but he definitely does _not_ have your scent. It's pretty obvious from their expressions that Damien and Azrael trust you about as far as they could throw you, _but_ despite that your ruse appears to have worked, and Damien doesn't force the issue with Titus any further.


Fox listened to what Damien had to say, and though he didn't brush him off completely, he seemed to ponder for a minute before shaking his head.

"*That's a bold idea, Master Wayne, but I don't think we should be so hasty just yet. The Chraal leaves this afternoon, and it has to leave on time if we're going to keep this Guild afloat. There's not enough time to find and rescue Verena and sleep and secure the Void Vaults, which I also desperately need, if I might be so blunt. The way I see it, right now Benson doesn't know that we're onto him. Sure, the Nigma's are spying on us and sure, he's about to haul a bunch of Dark Market contraband back into port when he returns, but those are problems we can handle two weeks from now when he actually pulls back into port. In the meantime, we need to secure those vaults and start moving the rest of our fleet out with this arcana so we can pay off those calls. Let's let Benson think he hasn't been discovered, for now. We can find Verena while he's gone and then seize the Market's goods when the Chraal returns.*"

"*You're not gonna punish him?*" the guard captain asked.

"*No. Maybe. Ah hell, I don't know. You know just as well as I do how hard it can be to stay afloat in this city once men like Zucco or Lord Nigma get their claws into you. Benson and I will have to have a long, hard chat when he gets back, but I'd like to have that chat after we can see his daughter returned safely to his arms. Let's focus on that, for now at least.*"

Alfred smiled. 

"*For what it's worth Master Wayne, I think Lord Fox here is right. Still, it's a good thing we found these letters. Now that we know what's afoot, you and our new friends here can work on putting this mess right.*"

Damien sighed.

"*Fine, I guess. Can I at least grab a look at those letters, then?*"

Fox nodded at Alfred, and Alfred handed both notes over to Damien to peruse at his leisure.

*Spoiler: Damien OOC*
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Yes, go ahead and spend the gold and add the items to your inventory. You'd have done it earlier if you'd known better so there's nothing stopping us from going back and retconning stuff that didn't actually happen IC for the benefit of the game/story, especially if you've got the coin to burn. Spend it up!


As Damien read over the letters, Azrael dismissively assured the boy of his lethal capabilities. As the inquisition warrior spoke, Barbara, Kate and Stephanie all eyed him with a fair bit of malice. He held out his hand, and Titus sniffed it, before a low growl echoed from deep in the riding dog's throat. He didn't attack however, instead glowered at Azrael and slowly paced back to his young master.

Finally, the lead inquisitor seemed satisfied that his will had been properly asserted.

"*Very well, Lord Fox, Sir Pennyworth,*" he looked out at the rest of the group, now huddled near the entrance of the Guild Hall as the Justicar carriage rolled away back towards St. Mary's Park. "*It looks as if everything is in order. Azrael will stay by your mercenaries' sides for the remainder of this day and tonight, until the business at the Vaults is finished. He will report everything you see and do back to us, and we shall visit you again in twenty four hours to review his findings.*" 

No one replied, but Azrael bowed his head in deference to the inquisitors. They got on their horses and galloped away into the early morning, the carriage with the Thieves Guilders trailing behind them. Eventually light -- real light -- began to creep over the docks. The sky was gray and pallid, as if the city itself was in a foul mood.

"*Well then, ladies and gentlemen. If that's everything I'll be off,*" Sir Pennyworth said. "*I shall return tomorrow night to collect young Master Wayne here, and hopefully the Codex. Lucius.*" he nodded toward Fox, before turning to fetch his horse.

"*Alfred.*" Fox nodded back.

Sir Pennyworth prodded his steed and galloped off into the city, reducing the gathering to the party, Fox and his two guild members. Around the docks, dockworkers began to show up for the morning shift. The Merchant's Guild would cling to life another day.

"*Alright then. Is there anything else I can do for you all? I'm sure you've got some business you'll now need to attend to in the city, but I hope you'll all at least endeavor to get some rest before tonight's mission. I'll meet you at the corner of East 14th Street and Olive tonight, and I can hand you the Void Keys. then. Let's say, 7 o'clock. If you all need to get some rest, there's a halfway decent inn not too far away from here, down on Penny Street. Let me know if there's anything else you need, otherwise I'll go ahead and get back to work.*"

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien makes a noise of disagreement, but once again doesnt expose himself to a more direct stonewalling than the gentle one Fox had offered his hyperactive schedule.  The gunmetal eyes skim across the Nigma letter.

Very well, Fox.  I am confined to your schedule.  As for what else well need for tomorrow, well need discreet passage to South Channel Island.  Its forested and not well patrolled, so theres plenty of places to hide a body - but not many to hide a hostage, whom one must tend with browscratching goons.  Only the two parks, really; though we dont need to find her as much as find a House Nigma agent and compel their tongue.

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## Molan

> Damien makes a noise of disagreement, but once again doesnt expose himself to a more direct stonewalling than the gentle one Fox had offered his hyperactive schedule.  The gunmetal eyes skim across the Nigma letter.
> 
> Very well, Fox.  I am confined to your schedule.  As for what else well need for tomorrow, well need discreet passage to South Channel Island.  Its forested and not well patrolled, so theres plenty of places to hide a body - but not many to hide a hostage, whom one must tend with browscratching goons.  Only the two parks, really; though we dont need to find her as much as find a House Nigma agent and compel their tongue.


"*That's true,*" said Fox. "*The Nigmas don't like to be loud and messy. Their household guard is restricted to protecting Nigma Manor and the Commerce Bank -- you won't find anyone walking around town wearing their sigil. But they do have spies and informants everywhere, and that's the basis of their power. I'm not sure exactly where you should start, but I'll bet you a fistful of silver that if you can track down one or more of their spies, you'll be able to follow the breadcrumbs to Verena. Just be careful; the Bankers are dangerous. The Nigmas aren't the only banker house in this city, and you've already started racking up enemies. Just...be careful. Anyway, I'll go ahead and get a boat ready to take you over to South Chanel Island tomorrow; I'll try to find something quiet. Just make sure you make our rendezvous at seven so we can secure these vaults.*"

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## MrAbdiel

Ill be ready.  Quite frankly, Ive been ready for _some time_.

He gives Titus an emancipating chin rub that the dog correctly interprets as an opportunity to bound off around the corner he emerged from, leaving the boy to peer up at the inquisitor; arms behind his back, eyes bright with an interrogation of his own brewing behind them.

Tell me, Azrael: what is your position on the immortality of the soul?

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Shipshape, magic cell check*
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Didnt think it would work, really pleased it does. Thank you! 

 


=*Chapter 2, The Wise Question a Fox, The Foolish Hug A Bat*=

Because these are your fancy Vaults, Mister Lord Fox, can you please bring any schematics or maybe a map or two of however many floors are in there? Obviously, knowing key features could be life saving; trap mechanisms and how to avoid them, animate constructs and power words to deactivate, where the magic seepage might be worse and precautions to safeguard. Theres plenty of time to fish up details before our meet at seven. Otherwise I can easily ask around about, uh, _monsters_ in the area, Garrels idiotic tale of a giant man bat sprung to mind immediately, but she internally swatted it away. Locals arent going to be closed to those details if it helps them.

After listening to Foxs answer, Spoiler nodded agreeably. One final thing: youve been really generous with us today, and Id love to spend this hard won coin to further benefit your Guild. But equipment is incredibly pricey and choosing between it and food or shelter can really wreck our results tonight. Do you know where we can buy from the Merchants with a teensy discount? She leaned forward with hopeful want. 

(bluff 25, really just looking for a discount, but ya dont ask...)

Waiting until it was clear that no more questions where being asked and answered, Spoiler noted the short black haired noble trying to stir soulful conversation with the armour bound inquisitor after while Kate and Oracle started heading off. 

Nice to meet you Azrael; I look forward to helping you protect the families of Midtown from monste  Lord Damien, is that a Dire bat? she asked, pointing at the tail end of a flock of bats fleeing the sunlight strangely late in the early day distance. 

*Spoiler: Bluff feint Damien to make him lose Dexterity, grapple attack roll hug*
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Purely because Im not convinced I can just.hug Damien.of his own free will. But I dont think hes quite mean enough to violently reject someone incompetent but well-intentioned. Maybe. He let the Fido fiasco go easily enough aka carpe diem lets roll dice dont cry for me Argentinaaa! 

1, Bluff feint (*25*) to make him lose dexterity aka be easier to attack roll
2, Surprise single round grapple hug. Some would say that provokes an optional AoO that, if used and it hits, stops the attempted grapple hug entirely. I encourage you to ignore those people. (AC 17) (1d20+8)[*12*] (Weapon Finesse covers unarmed attacks). 

If it lands, Whoops-just-a-hug!   



*****

Whatever the case, Stephanie tries to catch up with the other two after, mentioning important news about jobs in law enforcement to encourage them to slow down. 

*Spoiler: Bat Woman, Oracle, Arkham, Corrupt Justiciars, IC*
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(feel free to skip to the end for the juicy corrupt Justiciar details if you want)

Hey, I know we only have to play nice with Wayne junior and mister congeniality for one night, but if either of you get an invite to Arkham, and your Houses are a little too law-abiding, understand I know people. Theyll be happy to let you go unnoticed for a bit.

Anyway, on a more cherry note: Raam told me all about the corruption of the Justiciars. Wanna walk me over to the Penny Street Inn while I fill you in? 

*Spoiler: Jbe, Feathersnow, corrupt Justiciar details briefly*
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Actually please read the Spoiler, Private Interrogation of Raam Molan spoiler earlier instead. Presume all those important Justiciar and Thieves Guild details were passed to you. 

 


 


*Spoiler: Downtime (Get an Inn room, disguise, search for Vale, go to Kyle gang territory, tell them about the Merchant showdown, show them Thieves letter, try to rest in their territory, pop back to the Inn for a shower and light meal*
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Vale,

1, Theres item purchases to make, but in particular, I want to get a disguise kit. Buy stuff/replenish supply. Get whatever passes for the most secure/nicest room at the Penny Street Inn.

2, Take 20 Disguise (*34*) which takes an hour. +5 Minor changes. +2 Disguise check from kit (down to 9/10 uses). +7 basic. Bulky unstylish black shades, padded black armour, blue trousers, and a loosely buttoned and baggy brown overcoat that is a little too large (can you say, conceals in the dagger, tanglefoot bag, thunderstone, two smokesticks) with the handle of her sai poking out of an external pocket. Her trademark purple is completely absent (gloves of dexterity). Leave stuff in room or preferably a chest (why dont I trust those any more?). 

The Thieves Guild and House Kyle are outright hostile (I think), and the potential for someone recognizing the black-and-purple Spoiler alias, in full costume, in a Thieves neighbourhood, is an unnecessary risk. Lets keep it semi-subtle. 

3, Sneak in the crowd (Bluff For Diversions, Hide to Blend In) purely to avoid a tail on my way out.  K: Local (*20*) take 10 to see if Thieves Guild Vale is known to speed the search. 

4, Search for Vale, whoever he or she is, first in Fort Clinton (Raams power base). Using my Urban Tracker feat makes the search not take all day, but only an hour. Gather Information (*26*) take 10. If I find Vale, obviously tell them about Captain Raam stuck in an Arkham carriage with his crew. If pushed why she was at the docks, claim she saw the Justiciar and Arkham carriages and got curious. Raam must have noticed she was disgusted because the message popped in her head after. 

House Kyle,

1, Sneak on my way out (Bluff For Diversions, Hide to Blend In) to avoid a tail. Despite making herself a little scarce the past few weeks, Spoiler shows up casually enough before House Kyle. Any questions about where shes been are answered the same; languages lessons, side hustles, so on. 

2, Tell preferably Haley/the Squirrel about Spoilers selective highlights in the Thieves-Merchant Guild showdown; Zucco trying to push back into Midtown, mage papers shipped out so soon theres not a whole lot the House can do, Aust dead, Ghol and Raam and others hauled off to Arkham, and getting paid a first ever mercenary gig to weaken the Thieves. Her unhappiness about Arkham isnt hidden; Spoiler never agreed with torture despite past activities.  

3, Gives them (again, preferably Haley, but Cyrrus is also great) a copy of the Thieves Guild letter she got. Spoiler preferably keeps the real thing for herself. She mentions that with Raams position decimated and Midtown down one captain, nows a half decent time to slip spies in at least. Those positions have to get replace by someone. Better, if the Thieves many enemies can be nudged against them for seeing a window of weakness. (the more distracted the Thieves, less position theyre in to retaliate against Fox). 

House Kyle is small, and their thing is big heists, so Im guessing they appreciate leverage when its an option. Really throwing little things out there and seeing what sticks.if anything. 

4, Ask to crash/sleep in one of their safe houses. 

Penny Street Inn

1, Sneak when Im out of Kyle gang territory (Bluff For Diversions, Hide to Blend In) purely to avoid a tail on my way back to the Inn. 

2, Get whatever passes for a shower or hygiene. Have a light meal. Put on Spoiler costume again, presuming nothings been stolen.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate takes out  the money,  and out shares each to Barbara and Stephanie after her distraction fades.
"Our earnings. "

"I will be... elsewhere... until the appointed time."  She turns and goes, using her power reserve to get away clean from the inquisitor.  Stephanie manages to catch up and relay her message, though.

After that, Kate buys a new powerstone of expansion and four potions of cure light wounds from the same vendors she got the originals from.  She quietly asks around about getting her heavy poleaxe enhanced to due subdual damage.


She vaguely wonders The Questor is up to, but trying to find her with the Inquisition sniffing around, well it just isn't done.  Which is especially annoying, given her history with House Nigma.  

Then again,  Renée is also a member of the clergy, and having a cleric from a different order might help if the Inquisitor decides to make a nuisance of himself.

*Spoiler:  OoC*
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I am taking the liberty of inserting the medieval-verse version of Renée Montoya, The Questor, a Cleric/Rogue who is part of a different, more liberal order charged with witnessing to mundane criminals and protecting the Church from them.  
The inspiration for this was that "Questor" sounds like "Question" but actually means "monk authorized to give absolution."  And, learning that,  applying the title to Renée gave the general description above. Especially since it is the closest Medieval equivalent to a police detective.
That said, I hope the party learns to work together and that no need to pit rival schisms of the Church ever comes up, and I am more than happy to stick to NPCs generated by the DM if it is any kind of issue.

----------


## MrAbdiel

A dire- hey!

The scion is seized, bewildered by what seems to be a hard turn towards cheerful affection.  He furrows his dark eyebrows in an attempt to look commanding and wrath, and succeeds only in looking cute - puglike, in his displeasure.  He squirms.

Y- wh-!  Unhand me, knave!  Youre covered in smoke powder!

The squirming continues, fruitlessly.

*Spoiler: Sneaky Slight of Hand, for Posterity*
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...But while squirming, he's actually dextrously taking and pocketing...*Spoiler: Secret things.*
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...Spoiler's Masterwork Sap.  After she's gone, he looks it over with dull bemusement.  A very finely crafted bludgeon for such a twinkle-eyed bumpkin, _a-hyuk a hyuk golly gosh._  Cleverer than she pretends to be; not as clever as she thinks she is - certainly not as clever as _he._

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Taking the liberty of a single squeeze as she held him in mid-air, Stephanie lowered the little lord contently soon after, the yokel act secure. Even with his knight and hunting dog absent, it was a foolish breed of commoner that would lay hands on a newly met noble, let alone before multiple high-born witnesses. But she saw the obvious Damien didnt: he was a child. Abandoning him to strangers, tasked with securing a hazardous vault, one filled with the waste that turned the wildlife monstrous, it was cruel. An unguarded look of pity lasted little longer than a blink. The elder Wayne was a womanizing lush, but it was surprising he also found time to be a negligent father. 

_Damien would have been better off with Haley  at least our House cares._

A sloppy hand slapped her chest, with no sign of the finesse that had tickled open locks worthy of the Merchants Guild, or rope work sturdy enough to hold a half giant. As you command, or such. Yawning long as she turned away, the mask taking care of the need to shield her mouth, her shoulders slumped after for lack of sleep. 

Anyway, have fun you two. See ya at seven. 

She then caught up to the knight and wizard duo.

----------


## Molan

After a brief hug-***-struggle with Damien, Stephanie waltzed off to face the morning in Gotham, trailing not too far behind Kate and Barbara. 

Azrael eventually sighed, and, making a note of Fox's plan for the coming evening, made his way to the Penny Street Inn, which he discovered was called "Penny's Nickel", whatever that meant. Seeing no other options, Damien followed him there.

*Spoiler: Kate*
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*Spoiler: OOC:*
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Oooooh, bit of a curveball, didn't think I'd have to write a new character in. But I dig it. Let's see how I do lol.
Kate walked away from the docks and eventually found the 34th Street Arcane Railway. The Midtown central line was underground, but unlike some of the seedier and more poorly maintained arcane rail lines, this one was heavily trafficked, and wasn't in nearly as poor shape as some of the underground trains. As she boarded, she saw a trio of bards standing near the center car, playing their instruments slowly. The few peasants and merchants who got on all obligatorily walked over to them and dropped coins in an overturned hat, the bards smiling slyly at them as they did so. But when Kate walked on, the bards avoided eye contact, and she stomped past them without making any "donations". 

The conductor activated the complex magical devices in the lead car and Kate heard the feint hint of music before magic thrummed through the rails, propelling the cars forward. Before long, they came to a stop and a singsong voice echoed through the train, announcing Kate's street. 

When she disembarked, it was only a short walk to the Wandering Eye. The city was waking up, and before long the early morning shops and vendors were opening and filling the streets. Everyone who saw her though, avoided her. She was a towering black suit of armor in a street of commoners, and everyone gave her her space. She passed down a small turn into a narrow alley filled with small cafes, and spotted the foggy stained glass windows of the Eye.

When she walked inside, Tallie popped up from behind the counter, her strange, psychedelic, star-studded robes flowing over her diminutive frame and a pair of huge spectacles making her eyes seem much larger than they were until they drooped down her nose. The costume was mostly an act; an affect put on to convince regulars and passersby that she was just some crock medium. Kate however, knew the truth.

"*Might as well take off the metal hat dear, you're not scaring anyone in here.*" the gnome piped. 

Kate nodded and took off her helm, revealing her gothic visage.

"*There's the Dame Kane we know and love. Now tell me deary what can I fetch you today? Your aura feels tired; had a lively night have we?*"

"*Just the usual, Tallie,*" Kate said, forking over the necessary coin. "*I just need to replenish some of my consumables.*" Kate quickly went over what she needed, and Tallie completed her purchse with no fuss or questions needed.

"*Oh, perhaps it wasn't too lively of a night, that order wasn't so bad.*"

Kate shrugged.

"*I've been wondering, Tallie. I want to get the poleaxe imbued. Do you think you know anyone who could help?*"

"*I could probably manage that for you deary, if the order isn't too outrageous.*"

"*No no, nothing crazy. I just need to be able to knock folks out without splitting them open.*"

"*Ah yes, that's manageable,*" Tallie replied. "*But it's pricey. Nearly 800 platinum, if I had to guess. I don't mean to gouge you love, but orders like that take work.*"

"*It's no problem,*" Kate replied. "*I just want to know where and when I can manage it, once I've got the coin. Don't worry, I'll be back. I just wanted the lay of the land.*"

Kate left, and meandered her way back to Kane Manor, weariness finally seeping in. The great dark manse was silent and mostly still, and when she found her chambers, she was grateful for the solitude. She needed to get some rest before tomorrow. With any luck after she slept she could track down the temple of St. Cuthbert and see if anyone there had encountered Renee.

She woke up around four thirty, rearmored herself, and made her way back out into the streets. The temples in the Village all sat near Colgate Park; the Temple of the True Twelve took up an obnoxious amount of prominence in the center of the square, but temples to Fharlanghn, Heironeous, Pelor, St. Cuthbert, Ayailla, Estanna, Phieran, and Urbanus sat in a semi-circle around the central building.

The Temple of St. Cuthbert was surrounded by poor petitioners and beggars, and nuns managed bread and grain tables outside, or inspected children for bugs and sickness, all in service to the city's poor. Kate took care not to bump into anyone as she strode up the temple steps, into the humble but brooding building at the top.

Inside the temple was mostly quiet; there were no services being held that day, and she mostly saw individuals knelt in prayer or in conversations with the clergy or their neighbors. Kate quietly made her way through the center of the Temple, reaching the raised area around the altar. It took her a moment, but finally she saw a familiar figure; Renee was dressed in a long dark gray robe, almost black, and her face was mostly covered by a hood. She handed a man in armor something before he bowed and made his way out of a back entrance. Kate softly cleared her throat, and Questor caught her eye, quietly walking up to her as though she was just another parishioner, seeking blessings.

"*Well well, if it isn't Dame Kane,*" she whispered. "*I honestly wasn't expecting to run into you; from the sounds of it you've been quite busy down at the docklands, unless that was some other tall woman in black armor I was hearing about. Thought you'd be busy elsewhere.*"


*Spoiler: Barbara*
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Barbara took off from the docks and took an arcane rail to the center of the city. Though the Merchant's Guild Tower was mostly abandoned, the nexus hub of the rails sat at it's base; a massive, cavernous area now operated and owned exclusively by the Bards' Guild, who sent the rail cars to each end of the city and back again from their massive hub. The place was full of activity, even this early in the morning, bards and criers hawking news and Gotham Heralds and practicing their arcane, musical arts, as well as merchants and commoners bustling to and fro, all heading to whatever work they did during the daylight hours. 

Barbara knew the path well. She got on the north line, and quickly found herself whisked away to Columbia Point, at the northernmost tip of Midtown. The rail actually stopped a couple of blocks from Justicar's Keep, and she kept her cowl up and her mask over her face as she approached her father's fortress.

The Keep was a massive, bustling place night and day. An artificial moat surrounded it's inner workings, which was itself ensconced by a towering curtain wall. The outermost gate was always open, as people and Justicars of every stripe moved in and out of the great keep, all of them carrying some kind of business with the law. She stopped short at the outter gate as two cage wagons rumbled past, filled with vagrants and criminals that had been rounded up the night before. As she watched, a catch of unseemly looking fellows was escorted back _out_ of the keep, on foot.

"*Always with the revolving door, this place.*" she muttered.

Inside the curtain wall and the moat was the great keep, a huge structure that doubled as a fortification and a massive office-building-***-jail, where the core of the Justicar Order performed their work and received their instructions. Up near the highest windows, she could see the telltale kite-shaped portal that Lord Gordon's office looked out of. He'd be up there, even now, trying his best to hold the city together.

The area in between the moat and the great keep was a combination of a stockyard, meeting place and drill yard, and it was a hive of activity. Because this area was open to the public, it was fairly easy to post up unnoticed, leaning against one of the nearby carriages, and cast her spell.

It took around 20 seconds for the spell to fully kick in, and she was bombarded with a rush of stray thoughts from all the passers by. But, with focus, she was able to eventually start picking out specific ones.

On the whole, it was worse than she'd feared. At least half of the blue-tabarded men she scanned were either nakedly corrupt, desperate to the point of corruption, or had been badly blackmailed. The other half were decent; the Lawmen and Bloodhounds were doing a bit better than the Watchmen, writ large. But it was clear the force was deeply compromised. She heard a familiar voice, and turned the focus of her spell as a gang of Bloodhounds walked towards her.

Bloodhounds were different than the uniformed Watchmen and Lawmen of the Justicar Order. Distinguishable only by black iron shields pendants they carried with them, they typically wore simple, rough, adventurer's clothes and armor, and carried any variety and assortment of weapons. Their job was investigating crimes, identifying criminals, and bringing cases against them for the Imperial Court; they were best known, however, for their role in hunting down escaped targets and bringing them in to justice. It was an elite cadre, but even they had proven vulnerable to Gotham's endemic corruption. Leading them was a large, portly looking half-orc Barbara recognized all too well -- Bullock.

He and his coterie stopped short of her position, and he gave a series of orders to a trio of Bloodhounds on his right.

"*Listen Hadren, I'm counting on you here. The nobles are losing their sh!t over Sionis; it's not like when the Dent's collapsed. This is worse.*"

"*Yea,*" one woman snorted. "*It's worse because Dent didn't actually come for their homes.*"

"*Quiet!*" Bullock hissed. "*I told ya, Lord James doesn't want that bit getting out any more. Listen, just find out what they're up to, and report back to me. No offense to anybody but you're about all I can count on here.*"

"_Hadren_" nodded, and he and two other Bloodhounds took off for the main gate, ignoring Barbara completely.

She could feel Bullock's mind racing. He wasn't lying about anything he'd just said; something had happened recently that had angered the high lords of Gotham; Bullock was far more unhappy about their wrath than he was about whatever the crime was that had been committed. But he trusted the Hounds he'd sent out; if they found out what he needed, he knew Lord Gordon would bring an army down on whoever they were hunting.

"*You really think they're gonna find him?*" one of the remaining Hounds sniggered. 

"*Who cares,*" Bullock blustered. "*Alright here's the score.*" he mumbled. 

He then began to whisper, and Barbara struggled but couldn't make out what he was saying. She could read his and the other Bloodhounds' minds easily enough though. These few were _all_ corrupt, and Bullock was eagerly giving them instructions on how to line his -- and their -- pockets. While Hadren and his compatriots would be hunting some dangerous criminal, Bullock and his cronies would be running a racket and waiting.

Eventually, she felt like she'd seen enough, and was running out of time. She took off and hit the railway back south before finding her way back to her townhouse, further south in Midtown. It was a drab, gloomy place, but Barbara liked it. Justicar banners still hung from the street-facing walls, a vestige of the time when Lord Gordon had been forced out of Justicar's keep and had been seconded to the sidelines. It was always a raw deal; but the Dents hadn't really deserved what had happened to _them,_ either. Still, all that death had at least come to _some_ good. It'd given Barbara her own place in the city, and an ideal location for her lab and observatory.

The top story of the townhouse was half glass and steel, and was filled with bookshelves and tables where she performed her arcane work. She finished up the spells she'd been working on, sitting at her primary desk and looking out over the dreary city as sunlight began to cascade over it. Finally finished, she collapsed into her bed in the corner, ready to rest and prepare herself for a new round of festivities that night.

When she awoke, the sun was already starting to go down, and faerie fire and oil lamps began to pop up all across town. Barbara rolled out of bed, stretched, dressed and prepared herself for another challenging evening. 

She made her way back to Fort Clinton, and eventually found the lit street corner she was looking for; beneath the flickering lamp, Fox was waiting, along with Damien, Azrael and a whole coterie of Merchants' Guild guards.

"*Good evening madam,*" Fox said with a smile. "*Another fine night to be out on the streets of Gotham.*"


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
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Stephanie found her way easily enough to Penny's Nickel, which smelled of stale beer and was fairly dead this early in the morning. A youngish girl was cleaning up tables downstairs when Stephanie walked in, and for a small bit of copper she was able to lock up some basic accommodations and a locked door. Good enough.

What she really needed wasn't to be found here, though. She quickly ducked back out again, and as the merchant stalls began to open up, she found a Bard's Guild sanctioned clothier that seemed like it'd have what she needed. She picked up the supplies necessary to put on a bit of a face, then spent an hour back at the Nickel getting into character. 

When she came back out again, the city had livened up. Though it was early in the morning, before long she was able to spot an establishment seedy enough for her purposes; it was a bar called "Harper's Key", but carved into one of the supporting pillars on the side of the doorway was a rather brazen mark of the Thieves Guild; a crude skull atop a key.

Spoiler made her way inside and found the lowlifes who frequented the place were already busy drinking and smoking the new day away. But while they did that, they traded -- whispers and secrets, drugs, fenced goods, and all sorts of dirty business was being exchanged. Stephanie made the rounds, buying a beer here, picking up a trinket for sale there, and eventually getting into some conversation with a few of the regulars.

"*It's all fugged man. No one's seen Raam since last night. I talked to Mixen and she said Kysel's asking about the Chraal. Heads are gonna roll.*"

"*Bibs saw Eberk down in Red Hook. Said he chased some guy out of the docks last night, blighter wound up clubbing his dog. Ain't nobody seen the dwarf since.*"

"*Eberk'l lay low if he's smart. Ronnie found Gex passed out down by the fishery; they brought him to Kysel. Apparently Raam's missing along with half his crew. Anybody who was down there yesterday's getting a talking to.*"

The first man blew air into his mug.

"*That's not the way you want to take it,*" he chuckled. "*I don't feel bad though. Never liked Gex anyway.*"

The second man chuckled. "*No one did.*"

The conversation continued to meander, and Spoiler was careful to manage her gossip with the street toughs without giving away that she was _overly_ curious. Offhandedly, she finally managed to drop in her hook;

"*Anyway Raam'd better show up. I took a job from him only a days back to get to some blighter named Vale. Been all around the guild, haven't met anybody by that name. Takin' me forever. If I finally find the bastard, Raam'd better be around to pay me up.*"

One of the men shook his head.

"*That's a bum rap that is. I dunno if I've ever heard of a Vale in Fort Clinton.*"

"*Nah man,*" said the second. "*I've lived here my whole life, there's never been any "Vale" in this neighborhood.*"

As they spoke, a serving wench with a fairly blatant Guild Tattoo above her left collarbone came by to swap out their flagons. She had a rolled up scroll under her arm. Stephanie'd watched her the last hour -- this was a clever one. She perused the tables, insuring the libations kept flowing, but grazing on secrets and rumors from each table as she went. She was smart, this one. And she'd been listening to their conversation too.

"*Yea-hep. Bost's right, I dunno anybody named Vale here either,*" she said as she bent down, distracting the other thugs with the hem of her shirt while she swapped out their empty mugs for full ones. "*Except we see this lady's name quite a fuggin' lot.*"

Before she stepped away, she held the mug tray up with one hand and removed the scroll from the crook of her arm with the other, and tossed it onto the table. As she did so, the scroll opened up, revealing that day's edition of the Gotham Herald.

"*LORD JAMES TO SPEAK ON RECENT ATTACK*", began one headline. "*JUSTICARS HELPLESS TO FIND LEADS IN FOOLS' GUILD MASSACRE*" read another. Then near the center of the page, one article took prominence:

"*THE SEARCH FOR LORD DENT CONTINUES -- HOUSE COBBLEPOTT DOUBLES PREVIOUS REWARD*". Directly below the headline, in elegant, scrawling script, Spoiler finally saw it:

"_~~ Story by Victoria Vale, Noble Crier_"

"*Well fug me silly,*" Spoiler whispered, not completely out of earshot for the rest of the table. "*Vale is a Bard...why the hell did he ask for a Bard?*"

Her work done, Stephanie made her way back out of the bar into the light of day. Now she had a bit of a pickle to deal with. She still had time, but her plan of action was now pulling her in two different directions...sort of. The Opera House was in the same general direction as the Narrows, but she had two completely different errands to run in those two places, and only so much time to do it. The Opera House was the Bard's Guild headquarters; dollars to donuts, that's where she'd find "Noble Crier Victoria Vale". 

The Narrows, on the other hand, were where her true friends would lie -- if she could be said to _have_ any such thing as true friends. Shrugging, she decided she'd try to have it all, and quickly hopped onto a passing grain carriage to run herself further south.

She did a fairly good job keeping herself blended in with the crowds as she passed, first to the Nickel, then the clothiers, then through Fort Clinton. She occasionally looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed, but she was clean. Things were going well.

The Opera House was a massive, overwrought structure, it's outer walls held aloft by massive steel Gothic statues of ancient dead titans. Like everything the Bards owned, it served a variety of purposes; they did in fact put on plays and operas for Gotham's nobility here. But this place was so much more than that. It was the center of their operations, the command center for one of the most powerful organizations in Gotham. It was also where they wrote and created the Herald, sending flurries of copies out across the city every morning like so many sparrows. As she approached the great old building, it was impossible not to run into scores of bloody Bards. Some sang, some danced, most gossiped with one another, and still many more came and went, conducting whatever business they had pressing them. Spoiler wasn't a Bard, but she was cleverly enough to look like she belonged in the throngs and eventually made her way inside.

The front half of the building was essentially for the nobles; it was a full theatre, and since there were no shows on this week, it was also completely empty. But there were large side entrances to, and the one she found led her to the large, bustling offices nearer to the Guild's base of operations. She continued to just look like she belonged there, winding her way through the bustling, cavernous space until eventually she saw the woman she was looking for.

Victoria Vale had the look of a classically successful, high ranking Bard. Long, white-blonde hair cascaded off of her shoulders framing bright green eyes and a blemish-free face. She was tall and well shaped but wore an elegant and tasteful outfit underneath a surprising suit of studded leather armor which was, if Spoiler's instincts weren't too far off, enchanted.

She was standing around a coterie of lesser bardic apprentices, and all of them were writing as she spoke.

"*Listen, okay? It's just not good enough.*" her voice was elegant and perfectly measured, even as she scolded her apprentices. "*Lord James thinks he can keep a lid on this Sionis thing while doing crap-all about the Fool's Guild attacks on our institution. The Choirmaster isn't going to have it, you understand? I need somebody, anybody to get me close Sionis Manor! Or, lacking that, just put the squeeze on a Justicar or two -- I want to know what that pompous dolt is hiding.*"

As she spoke to her team, her head suddenly snapped in Spoiler's direction as she appeared to realize she was being watched.

"*Dear god please tell me you're not another apprentice.*" she sighed.

Spoiler managed to convince Vale to talk to her in private, and Vale led her to her office, where she put her tall-booted feet up on her desk and held her hands out wide. What did Stephanie want with her, anyway?

Stephanie told Vale that she'd received a psychic message from Raam, and that she'd gone searching to try and find her. She muddled through her excuse about why she was at the docks easily enough (roll to bluff) and though Vale's eyes narrowed as she spoke, she more or less seemed to buy it.

"*So Raam's finally gotten himself snatched up by someone he can't bully.*" Vale mused aloud, seeming unphased. "*Well that's new, at least. Still though, it's odd. The Witch Hunters' have never shown any interest in the Thieves before, why now? It can't just be because Raam has psionic powers that's the worst kept secret in Midtown.*"

Sighing, lost in thought, she took her feet off the table and began writing down some notes on a piece of parchment.

"*I still don't get it,*" Stephanie pressed. "*Why you? Why would a Thieves Guild captain send me to find a Bard?*"

Vale smirked somewhat self assuredly.

"*Because Bards get things done, sister. Our guild has our thumb on every pulse in this city. Including the Thieves. I can get under the Inquisition's skin...not a lot of other folks can do that.*"

"*Uh huh. That's great. But why you? You're a high ranking Crier for the Bards' Guild, what are you doing getting mixed up with some slumlord in the first place?*"

Again, Vale smiled, but she didn't break. 

"*Sorry sister, but this is the information business. You want answers like that, you're going to have to pay extra. Still though, I think I might be able to try and help Raam out. He did a good job finding someone with an appropriately low opinion of the Arkhams, if nothing else.*"

----------------------

After Spoiler had left the Opera House, she made her way back towards the narrows, once again working to blend in with the crowds. The city tended to change once you entered the Narrows. It was always a dangerous, dingy place but the Narrows were something all to themselves. One of the smallest islands in Gotham, sandwiched between the Downtown and Midtown islands, the Narrows were poverty stacked on poverty, a miserable shanty city growing atop itself over and over again like a cancer. The absolute dregs of society lived here, and arcane pollution was rampant. Still, as she crossed the bridge, Stephanie couldn't help but smile.

She was home.


She eventually found the area she was looking for, and broke out some cured meats from her pack, waiting for the inevitable. Before long, a Narrows cat wandered up to her, purring and rubbing up against her legs. She tossed out a piece of the jerky, and eventually more cats started showing up. She broke up the rest of the meet in her first and tossed it to them, one at a time.

While she was busy, she noticed a small boy, no older than Damien had been, "casually" wander over to "play" on the opposing street corner. She looked up, and caught his eye.

"*Hey.*" the young ragged boy said quietly.

"*Hey,*" Spoiler smiled back. 

"*What're you lookin' for?*" he asked. It was an important question; answering wrong would send the orphan scampering off, and wouldn't talk to anyone she needed to see.

"*Either Haley or Squirrel, doesn't matter. I've got something for the House.*"

He smiled, and ran off, and Spoiler crossed her fingers that things hadn't changed too much since she'd been back. But before too long she heard a whistle from one of the side alleyways, and she left the cats behind to follow it. When she got into the alley she kept walking, stepping past puddles of dung, before she heard a voice behind her, and somehow also above her.

"*You bought me a present?*" the girl said.

Stephanie stopped, and slowly turned around before looking up, and seeing Haley's round face smiling back at her from a plank above her, which was positioned to run between two buildings.

"*I did yea,*" she replied coyly. "*If you're still into that sort of thing.*"

Haley led her away from the streets, up a rickety wooden fire escape along the side of a slumping building before the two reached the rooftops. The Narrows rooftops were an unknowable warren to those who didn't live there, incredibly easy to get lost, even at the top of the neighborhood. But Haley knew the place like the back of her hand, and before she knew it, Stephanie was climbing over a rickety wooden ladder extended seven stories above street level, slowly making her way into the House Kyle safehouse.

The Squirrel was waiting for her inside, along with a couple of other Kyle Rogues. They caroused for most of the afternoon, and Stephanie was able to share what she was willing about her highlights from the previous evening. She handed them a copy of the Thieves guild cypher, and Haley's eyes lit up with glee.

"*This is fantastic, she purred. The boss is gonna die!*"

"*No kidding, this is huge,*" added Cyrrus. "*With Raam in the slammer we can use this to start breaking into Fort Clinton!*"

"*Bingo. Don't forget Aust is dead too, so that's one less problem to worry about. But Zucco's pushing back in -- tell..."the Boss"...you guys need to hurry. Window won't stay open forever.*"

"*This is amazing,*" said Haley. "*I don't know how to thank you. Fort Clinton is huge, we're gonna be eating like kings.*"

"*No big deal, for now. Do you guys have a safe house I could crash in for the rest of the day? I haven't slept in almost two and I gotta go meet Fox at the Vaults at seven.*"

"*Fox eh? You working for him full time now?*" said Cyrrus, only half mocking. 

"*I'm getting paid cash money to gut the bloody Thieves Guild, is what I'm doing. You guys should get in on this, it feels amazing.*"

They laughed, and parted ways. Haley led Spoiler to another quiet shack of a room/home atop an already overcrowded apartment building. It wasn't much, but it was quiet, isolated, and safe. She passed out almost right away.

As the sun began to go down again, Spoiler dragged herself out of bed and quietly and carefully made her way back out of the Narrows before returning to the Nickel. She managed to avoid being tailed the entire day, which was one fewer potential problem for them to deal with. She changed into her "night clothes" and took off again, this time headed for the Vaults.



*Spoiler: OOC: Kate and Stephanie only*
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So, once again life has conspired against me so I hope this post does you guys justice, but I got really tired and I just wanted to make sure I posted come hell or high water. So with any luck this wasn't all hot garbage.

Anyway, both of you have unfinished dialogues you'll need to wayback machine to lol. I was hoping to not do that to you but given what the two of you tried to accomplish, I couldn't _quite_ get you through those chats without some input from you, the players. So just put spoiler tags around your past tense stuff and we can resolve those conversations simultaneously with the new action.


*- The Vaults: 34th and Olive, Fort Clinton Slums, 7pm -*

The party met again under a flickering faerie fire lamp in Fort Clinton. Fox was waiting, along with Azrael, Damien, Titus and a cadre of armed guards. As the party reassembled, Fox reminded everyone of the plan. 

He'd brought along an old map of the vaults that he'd marked with points of interest. They weren't much, but they showed six buildings covering three city blocks, altogether. 

"*Alright now listen, this is key. You've got two jobs tonight. One, unlock the first vault, sweep it for signs of trouble, then get out. Make sure you get an accurate headcount -- you don't want anyone stuck behind -- then seal the vault with the key when you're done. Then rinse/repeat until you've cleared all six. If you find the white box with the magic book Sir Pennyworth is looking for, bring that too.

Now, one thing to keep in mind. These things are nearly impregnable when they're sealed, but they're also huge; once the Key breaks the Void Seal, other scan potentially break into the vaults as well. Don't open any vaults that you're not immediately ready to sweep, and don't forget to reseal them once you're done.*" 

He reached into his cloak, then took out a long item that looked like a strange wand, handing it to Oracle.

"*The keyhole on each vault is marked on that map there. I'm trusting you to bring this back to me in one piece. We're all counting on you.*"

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien is there with bells on.  Or, more correctly, with all the bells _off_.  Gone is the garb of a young noble scion; in its place is a light and close-fitting suit of black cotton fabric, with no hint of leather to creak or silk to gleam in the dark.  The black is broken up with tabard of next-to-black grey, and intermittent accents of dull brown.  Forearms and the backs of his hands are covered in gauntlets, metal core with fabric exterior to mask their shine; a straight sword, long for him but on the long side of short for a grown man, is scabbarded on his back beneath a neat little backpack of the same innocuous black.  His tabard is loose enough to suggest concealed pockets and a host of hidden items.

"Excellent.  Let's waste no time - better to move swiftly enough to ambush anything that might have thought to ambush us."

He confers with Titus for a moment, taking the dog's jowely face in his hands and speaking to it in quiet direct tones again: "You stay here, Titus; in case we need to give swift chase.  But these vaults are no place for a dog, brave or not."  A scruffling on the cheeks and ears, and he leaves Titus in the care of Fox.

His second preparation he performs with a modicum of discretion, turning away from the group and taking a few moments to fiddle with his tabard.

*Spoiler: The Littlest Ninja*
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*Spoiler: Sleight of hand Take 10, for 20, to conceal the action!*
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Damien is activating his Ring of the Poisoner, creating some _Drow Poison_ (Maybe "League of Shadows Poison" of some kind?) and applying it to a couple of shuriken.  Theoretically he can create a cubit foot of that poison with the ring once per day, but that seems wildly exploitative; so I thought I'd go with "make enough for four shuriken" and see if that didn't feel too bad.  Let me know, DM!  As an expert poisoner from being a ninja and with sufficient ranks in the craft poison skill, he's able to create and apply this poison with no trouble.  Then he'll stow the shuriken to be drawn later - sometime in the next hour before the poison demanifests!  He also has some other shuriken that have "real" drow poison on them - those he'll use if he doesn't want the risk of a target waking up when the spell to fabricate the poison wakes up, but it costs a painful 75gp per dose of poison.  Thus the ring! :D

----------


## Feathersnow

*Spoiler: The Questor* 
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"I don't know if its good or bad you heard about that.  But it's you,  it would be your job to know..."

"I threw the gauntlet to the Thieves' guild. That's not what scares me.  The Inquisition knew before we even got back, and made sure they could silence our prisoners..."

"If you don't hear back from me in a few days, I'd be worried things are even worse at Arkham than we know they are."

"One of them is with us on a job for Fox.  I'm pretty sure he's as clean as that kind get, but that doesn't mean as much as it should if he's taking bad orders."

"The Thieves Guild might make a move, too, but you'd hear about that pretty quick.

Kate finishes their conversation with a piece of love poetry in Celestial, which no one will understand and could be willfully misrepresented if it somehow were 



Kate nodded through the presentation of their job, but gives no comments.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara reluctantly returns Fox's smile. Truth be told even though she understands academically that having a lazy reveller control the city's fortunes is better than the active criminals that control it now she's still not happy about working to fill Wayne's purse, especially when he threw in the towel in the fight her parents gave thier lives for, and now she had a few more confirmed targets for her own fight. But she could take this sort of work and still feel good about herself, and the early plans she'd drawn up to take down Bullock would be much easier with the money and contacts provided by the last job so a few more of these were unlikely to hurt..

Shaken out of her thoughts by the speech beginning Barabara played close attention, taking the key in hand and keeping a firm grip on as she tucket her hand beneath the side of her cloak and scanned up and down the street for anything suspicious. 


"Do we know how large the vualts are and how long it will take to manually survey each of them? I have several useful divinations but only a few of them last long enough for me to be ready to start casting them now."

As she talked with the others she also brought Juluis up from where he'd been tucked away, mentally communing with her familiar as it readied iself for it's own scouting duties.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Kate and Questor*
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Renee smiled, and casually walked over to some of the chairs near the altar, out of earshot of the other people in the temple. She gently held Kate's hand by the wrist to bring her along, and as the two sat together in hushed conversation she gave off the air of a clergy member simply counseling a parishioner. 

"*There's a lot of rancor among the Thieves Guild today; Raam was supposed to bring in as much as 120,000 gold pieces in his raid against the Waynes, but now he's disappeared and his crew is missing from Fort Clinton. You've stirred a hornets nest, but even the Thieves are only as powerful as people think they are. You've exposed a nerve -- you should expect retribution, but their position has weakened all the same. You've got to make sure the Justicars start to reassert themselves in the Slums...or barring that, make sure that old coot Fox starts hiring from the area. The people need hope, and they need food. Pry them away from Velnire's thugs, and things may finally begin to change.*"

She fished out a holy signet from under her robes, pressing it into Kate's hand.

"*There is a way to visit the Witch's Asylum without drawing the Arkhams' ire. The chiefmost cleric of the Imperial Church can sign a writ, and with a bit of disguising and my official sigil of St. Cuthbert, you can enter the Asylum on a missionary pretense. The Inquisition is powerful but they still have to answer direct orders from ranking members of the church.

Now, the trick here is, getting Father Macoy to sign the writ for you. The way I see it, you can always find him and threaten him, bribe him, or wait outside the Penny Street Brothel and blackmail him, but whichever way you go, he'll want guarantees that the Witch Hunters won't come knocking on his door later demanding answers about your visit. You'll have to be clever, Kate.*"

They finished their conversation and Kate whispered her poem to Renee in Celestial. The Questor replied in kind, sharing a sweet blessing of St. Cuthbert intended to well-wish a loved one. 

Armed with Questor's signet and a least some idea of how to get into the Asylum, Kate marched back out into the fading sunlight, prepared and inspired for her next mission.


Fox nodded, pouring over the map and making some basic observations for the group.

"*Each vault takes up about half a block. Now, inside you'll find they're really just very elegant seeming warehouses, most segmented into multiple chambers. The ceilings look like glass, but don't try bothering to break them -- they're not. Whatever material the old Wayne's forged these things out of is beyond our understanding now. They're each three stories, but the top to stories are partial and full mezzanines, so most of the inventory is at the bottom. My guess, if you work together, should take about a half an hour, maybe forty five minutes to sweep each one. Once you're done, you've got to seal that vault and move onto the next one.

Now, if you run into any trouble, you'll see it come from one of a couple of quarters. For one thing, it's hard to know if someone else has broken into the Vault while it's unsealed until you run right into them -- these places are stacked sky high with goods. So keep your wits about you. For another, magical creatures and undead *can* manifest in places like this if there are any containment breaches, but I doubt that's likely. 

Finally, the goods inside the vault are all encased in shielded, lead-lined packaging. That means that Detect Magic will work inside the Vaults while they're unsealed, provided you don't start emptying crates. If too much arcana is on the floor you're just gonna be overwhelmed with interference. I say this because if there *is* a magical breach, then a spell like that will help you see it before you walk into it.

Now, there's little to no lighting in there - that's what the skylights are for. So you'll need to bring your own illumination tonight. Once the last vault is sealed, head back towards the docks. I'll be waiting there with a few hundred volunteers -- with any luck, future employees. We'll begin to move the goods.*"

Fox stepped back, letting Barbara observe the map, and then suddenly gasped.

"*Oh, one more thing, I almost forgot. You're going to see these bronze W-shaped Merchant's Guild sigils on the walls and pillars all throughout each vault. If the sigil is painted red, use extreme caution in that area. It means there are traps present. Nobody other than specially authorized guild members know about the traps, they just know those areas are restricted. So, if you see one, tread very lightly in whatever room you're in.*"

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Downtime continued*
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Sis, please, when you stonewall me like this, arent you the only one that pays? she asked beseechingly. I saw the drama go down in Fort Clinton about two hours ago. Two hours, going on little more than a hastily thought last name, and a hefty dose of psychic panic, in a city the size of Gotham. Now Im standing before you when one of those hours was sent running other errands. She shrugged unapologetically. Clothes emergency. Anyway, your articles definitely helped narrow the tracks a tad, but you have more than enough empty-headed apprentices to know speedy results arent exactly common. Ive done more in two half-distracted hours than some can on a good day.

It was her turn to smile self-assuredly. Those are the type of results I can provide a fellow information aficionado, even one fighting with fools and dolts, but it has to come with a little basic trust, urged the blonde as she adjusted the black shades. Why does Raam think so highly of you? Your Sionis Manor is clearly my Arkham, so a swap is au natural. But whats the interest there? It sounded important.

*Spoiler: Rolling Diplomacy and Bluff, because sometimes why not*
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Diplomacy: (1d20+29)[*34*]. To get more information. 

Bluff on Merchant Guild story: (1d20+15)[*18*]. Vale already seems like she has too much information and influence, before the whole not trusting strangers thing. Especially as she seems linked to a lot of surprisingly different people. I 100% didnt expect a Bard, though.  :Small Big Grin:  
 


 


=*Chapter 2, pre-Vaults powwow*=

Evening all. Hows it going? 

Spoiler, all purple gloves and boots to her black mask and form fitting leather armour and tights, said remarkably little assembled alongside the others. She plucked an elastic band out of her yellow belt and threw her hair into a long ponytail while she observed the black gi covered child with open interest. All that attention was turned to the Guild Master once he started talking. 

*Spoiler: Knowledge Local, rolling for once*
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K: Local: (1d20+10)[*13*]. What kind of group/who in Gotham even trains people dressed like Damien? Mage College, Bards Guild, Justiciars, these are all high profile groups that have their own distinctive look. Ninjas seem (ironically) a little more exotic in fantasy Gotham.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler, at the Opera House*
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Vale's lip curled up into a smile, and she shrugged and sighed. 

"*Alright fine. You're a persistent bugger aren't you. What'd you say your name was again?*"

She continued,

"*Alright listen, I'm not supposed to be contracting out to freelancers, so keep this between us. There's a bit of a feud that's flared up between the Bard's Guild and our good and feeble Lord James.*"

She shoves aside a bunch of papers on her desk, revealing a Herald edition from a few days ago. These copies must not be the self-disintegrating kind, apparently. Splayed across the top of the Herald scroll was a screaming headline:

"*MASSACRE AT WEST SIDE STATION! HALF A DOZEN BARDS MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD!*"

Below the main headline was a subheading:

"*Bodies and blood splayed out in visceral fashion. Fool's Guild Likely to Blame.*"

The article went on to excoriate the Justicars and House James' apparently lack of an adequate response. In the article, a quote from Lord Gordon's spokesperson argued that the Fool's Guild couldn't have been involved, because the Dark Knight had captured The Jester years ago, and he was safely locked up in the Asylum. Another even more maligned quote came from House James; apparently Lord James' son and heir insinuated that the attack was the Bards' own fault.

"*So someone attacked you? What does this have to do with House Sionis?*" asked Stephanie. 

"*Well now, that is a fun question. See, we're tasked, by the will of the College and the authority of the Lords of Gotham, with running...I don't know. Everything. The Bards control the Arcane Rails, we control the messaging system, we spread news through the Herald and through street criers. But we're also in control of any and all entertainment in this city -- theatre, music, opera, you name it, we run it. You can't hum a tune in this town without approval from the Bard's Guild. And a few years back, some people started to take issue with that.*

Spoiler rolled her eyes.

"*Oh, gee. I can't imagine why.*"

"*They called themselves the Fool's Guild; just a bunch of degenerates and out of work circus and small time theatre performers. Hacks, really. But they tried to organize an alternative mandate to our control. I have to be honest with you -- the Guild leaders...weren't kind about it. The Bards leaned on the College and the Lords to regulate and tax the Fools out of existence, and when that wasn't enough, they turned to more direct intimidation. People died. But, eventually, the remaining circus freaks rallied around this maniac called The Jester -- he killed the last choirmaster in front of the entire nobility, right here in this building. The city pretty much panicked, and The Jester led a reign of terror. But the Dark Knight showed up and whipped the Fools and threw the Jester into the Witch's Asylum, and things have been calm ever since.*"

"*So you think the Jester's behind this new attack?*"

"*Do I? No, not really. The city insists The Jester is still in Arkham's custody and no one has seen him since the Dark Knight tossed away the key. I think someone who has beef with the Bards is using the appearance of the Fools' Guild to try and scare us. But it doesn't really matter who's behind the attacks; whoever it is, they managed to take down six of our brothers and sisters and get away unseen. We can't have that. We need the city to act.*"

"*Okay, so you want to pressure the high lords. Fair enough. But what does that have to do with House Sionis?*"

Vale smiled wide, and practically licked her lips with anticipation.

"*Ah, well, that's the juicy part -- we don't really know. House Sionis controlled a huge industrial empire in Gotham courtesy of their control of the Craftsman's Guild. But recently, people reported seeing smoke coming from their manor Uptown. The multiple city blocks -- all fortified manors and small keeps, mind you -- has been cordoned off by Blackgate and Cobblepott soldiers. Something's happened there, there's no doubt. Thing is, we've now started hearing rumors that another small noble family was recently destroyed, and some people are saying the Sionis' are involved. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but when we asked the James' about it, they denied anything had happened.*"

Spoiler smiled.

"*Which means something definitely did.*"

"*Exactly. And old lord fuddle-duddle and that crotchety letcher the Penguin appear to have a vested interest in covering it up, whatever it is. I need to know what happened to House Sionis, and I need to know if any other noble houses have fallen down with them.*"

"*You want to use the information as leverage. Cobblepott and James have to help you with your 'Fools Guild' problem or you'll publish whatever they're trying to hide.*"

"*Very good.*" Vale confirmed.

"*Okay fine, that works for me,*" said Spoiler. "*Then help me out. How is it that you know Raam. Can you help me out?*"

"*The Thieves and the Bards have an...understanding.*" Vale said slowly. "*We don't publish much about their...exploits. In return, they feed us information from the streets...lots, and lots of information. Raam and I have had, shall we say, a bit of a working relationship in that regard.*"

"*So can you help him?*" Stephanie asked. "*Why did he tell me to go find you?*"

"*I actually don't know if I can help him or not,*" she admitted. "*But I do know why he told you to find me. He was bartering.*"

It took Stephanie a couple of seconds to piece together what she was saying.

"*...he has something you need. He thinks he can leverage whatever that is to compel you to help him.*"

"*You're almost there, sweetie.*" Vale said, grinning. "*Bring it home.*"

"*...Raam...*" she snapped her fingers. "*Raam knows what happened to House Sionis!*"

"*Raam knows what what happened to House Sionis.*" Vale repeated. "*You are clever...you sure you're not a Bard? Anyway, I had told him I'd make it worth his while to feed me info on the scandal, and he was mulling over terms. But, it sounds like he got pinched before he could get back to me. Now I have to figure out what to do about all that.*"


*Spoiler: Spoiler's OOC At the Vaults*
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Unfortunately, you have no idea who would dress or train Damien in such a manner. There's no organizations in Gotham that you've heard of that dress that way, or that train small boys to run around like professional adventurers at night, for that matter.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Downtime continued*
Show



After a moments deliberation, Stephanie offered her alias by way of a name before the conversation covered more topics than she anticipated when first starting out. She mulled over everything and her own concerns on the torture and simple mistreatment of freelance performers, on plots to blackmail the highest realms of power and supplanting those significantly less influential. 

Then, as someone that loves a good singer myself, allow me to help slice this particular Gordian knot. Grant me a week to pinpoint exactly what is going on in the Sionis Manor and beyond, and Ill take the information to you before anyone else. Youll have the power to persuade both the High Lord of all Gotham and his wealthy banking friend. Behind her plastered smile she wondered if it wasnt better to let the Bards bloody themselves in a quiet war with Lord James, the better for Robyn and her like to be left free and unhindered. 

_Let alone anyone desperate or scared enough to join the Fools Guild for protection..._

But were both savvy women. Leaving you to figure out how to pull strings to free one of your own sources of information, while I provide a stop gap, isnt exactly an even trade. Raam and his crew nestling in Arkham is more a moral hazard for me; getting him out isnt my business, but leaving him in isnt my style. Ideally, Id ask him transferred out to Red Point or West Side. Let those Justiciars deal with him. Those this side of the Gotham cant protect a Choirmaster; I wouldnt trust them to hold hand my hand, let alone a half giant. She shook her head. 

More, if I pull off what you want, Id ask you pencil in the time to re-examine your previous understandings. There are more palatable groups in Gotham that would gladly give you the same information the Thieves offer, if not at a higher quality.  She straightened in her oversized overcoat on the spot, having never been offered a seat before. A solid deal, sis?


 


*Spoiler: Rolling Sense Motive, because you dice are looking especially lovely today. :)*
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Sense Motive: (1d20+7)[*15*]. Vale

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
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Vale shook her head.

"*Listen sweetie, you seem nice. Really. But we just met and there's no way I can trust you right now. I have a better idea. Why don't you give me a week to see what I can do to help you free the half-giant, since you're so concerned. You get him out, I get the scoop on what went down Uptown, and you can transfer him to Blackgate or West Side Watch or wherever the hell else you want. As far as cutting off business ties with the Thieves Guild...that's a big ask. But hey, anything in Gotham's negotiable. Why don't you spend the week thinking about how you can make it worth my while; if you can find another, better source for me...well...maybe we can work something out.*"


Armed with Fox's instructions and the map of the Vaults, the party set out. This particular section of Fort Clinton was particularly dead at night; there were almost no torches or lanterns, bathing the entire area in deep shadows, and they barely heard or saw even the hint of another living soul wandering this section of the streets. The entire area was mostly industrial warehouses; no residences or retail establishments in sight. The place had a deathly stillness to it, like a forest growing quiet right before a predator made it's kill. Their nerves were on edge, but they pressed forward to the Vaults, determined to complete their mission, if all for their own reasons.

When they reached the first Vault, it took a moment to take in it's vastness. The vaults were technically three stories each, but they seemed to stand much, much taller than that. Huge windows, ten feet tall, reached up from each successive level, and the vaults were built with the kind of archaic, gothic architecture the city was known for, with great metal statues and grinning gargoyles staring back down at them from the night sky. The windows seemed to glow with an inner light, strong enough to notice but not quite strong enough to actually shed any illumination into the surrounding alleyways.

The entrance the vault was covered by what looked like a huge iron door with a circular device in the center. Barbara entered the key and manipulated it, and a series of runes carved into the mechanism began to glow, and the various parts of the lock began to turn and shift, until all of the runes aligned. She removed the key and the entire "door" slunk downwards, into the ground with a great rumbling sound, revealing a _second,_ ornate metal door beyond it. As the seal came away, the "inner" light shining on the windows dimmed and faded to nothing; the Void Vault was unsealed. The inner door was covered in ghoulish frescos depicting legendary battles, but despite being covered by the Vault's lock looked heavily green and oxidized. Barbara pushed on the handle, and with some effort, the cavernous door creaked open, allowing access to the great hall within. 

The room beyond was filled with crates and stacks of supplies, all themselves covered in their own runes of warding. The bottom floor looked to be partitioned into multiple chambers, and a second set of iron doors revealed the centermost, and largest chamber of the vault. This chamber was also filled with almost dangerously-high stacks of presumably arcane goods. In the middle of the room, a pair of great stairs ascended up to a stone landing, then two other staircases shot off to the left and right, reaching the second level, which was a partial mezzanine. Above that, through the opening in the ceiling, they could see the third level, itself a full mezzanine, ringing the top layer of the vault, and beyond that, transparent "glass" skylights forming the vault's roof.

There was virtually no light sources inside the Vault, and Barbara almost walked passed one of the iron Merchant Guild "W" icons Fox had told her about before stopping herself. She looked close and saw that it wasn't painted red -- well, this one wasn't, at any rate. Still, the party needed to keep their eyes peeled.

"*According to the map, there are multiple chambers along the bottom floor; top floor's going to need searching too, it's a maze with all these bloody boxes in here. Should we run through together or split up?*"

"*Don't forget we need to look for the book.*" added Kate.

*Spoiler: OOC*
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Everyone should make search checks. In addition, you can take 10 on spot, listen, decipher script, spellcraft, Knowledge Arcana, Hide, Move Silently, Knowledge Architecture and Engineering, and Appraise, but these are all optional.

Basically just decide how you want to cut up searching through the vault, and I'll move you through checks and the next point of interest. You can take any actions you want _other_ than the ones prescribed in Fox's mission, if you so choose, but don't have to. I will add a basic layout map in Roll20 that will (crudely) give you a basic layout of the place, but I won't be able to do that till probably later tonight, if that's alright.

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## JbeJ275

"Very good, picking up the book is very important given it's potential importance. And we were all told about the dangers that might lurk inside such a place, or outside if anyone else in Fox's chain of communication anywhere has been suborned. I don't love the idea of anyone heading in here alone and unsuprted in case some creature here is capable fo ambush, but urking in here for too long is asking for trouble. Maybe spliting into two groups is wisest?" Maybe Kate and our guest from the church as they're best equipped to fight off such an ambush and me and Spoiler with the little Lord here as we're more likely to sneak around something ambushing us. In such a case I'd recommend us starting from the top and working down while you start down here and work up."

*Spoiler: Bluff secret message to Kate and Steph (Autopass DC on take 10)*
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Damien and Azrael not excluded as potential sources of ambush. Keep and eye on them.



Even as she Spoke Barbara began looking over the surrounding inventory, keeping a careful ear out and examining each facet of the building as she went.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
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Search: 
(1d20+14)[*32*]

Other Optional Ones that Barabara would be likely to be doing
Listen: (1d20+10)[*16*]
Decipher Script: (1d20+13)[*32*]
Spellcraft: (1d20+13)[*30*]
Arcana: (1d20+9)[*13*]
Hide: (1d20+11)[*22*]
Move Silently: (1d20+10)[*27*]
Architecture and Engineering: (1d20+7)[*9*]

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## MrAbdiel

"I'm going to the top,"  Damien pronounces with no consultation.  He casually produces a carved, black-wood rod from his backpack, manipulates it with a flick of his wrist, and slips his hand through the leather loop that sprouts from the bottom just as four hooks bloom from the top.  "Bulk supplies that move often will be nearest to the door.  Specialized items that rarely need transport will be isolated in the upper levels.  If I find anything hostile, I'll come back and we'll set up an ambush for it.  And if anything attacks you first, rest assured I'll join the fray shortly.  You only need to hold out for a ten or twelve seconds."

Before any argument can be made, the littlest ninja produces something in his free hand - a finely weighted, masterwork-sap, extremely familiar to Spoiler.  He tosses it at her, chin height, forcing her to lean back inelegantly to catch it (or else display unusual dexterity to snatch it from the air.)  He eyes the purple scoundrel with a contained smugness that borders on outright malicious glee.  "Try to keep your eyes open, _uh huh, uh huh_."  He apes Steph's performance from the preceding day with heaps of childish _duhhh duhhh_ irony, eyes wide with feigned stupid wonder.  Then, as if afraid that humor was to sophisticated, he places the thumb of his now empty hand to his nose, wiggles his fingers upright in the air, and blows a loud raspberry at her.

With the spirit of juvenile vengeance exorcised for the moment, without looking away, his grip adjusts on the black wood baton resting on his shoulder.  With a muted _hsss!_, the hook launches dramatically over his shoulder, trailing a narrow black cord connected to the rod and continuing up and up.  With an almost imperceptible twist of his wrist, the rope goes slack and hooks over the railing on the third floor - and then begins retracting with haste, dragging the child into the air.  Damien rotates with practised ease in the motion as he goes, black cotton fluttering briefly as he is launched into the moonlit upper floor.

*Spoiler: Rolls!*
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Damien is using his Rod of Ropes to -zoop- up to the top floor.  He'll immediately hide, and then spend a turn or two just listening and adjusting to the darkness.  I figure the upper floor will get the most exterior light, so it's the best place for a little lad with no darkvision and no wish to carry a light source to start.  Even if he can't search for the book just yet, he's in a good position to try to detect any unusual movement, atleast!

Take Tens:

Hide at *27*.
Move silently at *25.*

The other skills - specifically Search, Spot, Listen - are not so heavily invested in points that it's more fun rolling and hoping for a good result!

*SPOT* - (1d20+3)[*16*]
*LISTEN* - (1d20+5)[*24*]
*SEARCH* - (1d20+2)[*10*]

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Downtime conclusion*
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A sigh. Here I stumble into your office, only to steal precious time prattling of transferring crooks out of situations they might well deserve. To say little of those murdered. That deserves far better than James silence; let alone my neglect. A frown formed plainly while she reached for sai in her pocket like a child would a stuffed animal, only to find it completely missing. She groaned irritably at herself for expecting any better after rummaging for rumours in Thieves Guild territory. 

For however many coppers its worth, I know someone that would be interested to hear all this. Lets see if your Sinois issue isnt lock and key to both our troubles. She buttoned up the top button of her bulky overcoat unnecessarily.

Thank you for your time, Miss Vale. 

*Spoiler: Jbe will never read this, so*
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BARBRAAAAAAAAAAAA. WE NEED TO TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALK. 
 




Stepping into the room filled with endless stacked crates covered in runes, Spoiler breathed deep the surprisingly not stale air of a sealed vault, and breathed out loudly, exhilarated.

This is it. This is the real closer for last night. Six vaults and a few hours making the undead take a dust nap, then well open up opportunities for hundreds of people. Thats possibly thousands of families that wont have to turn to crime for coin! She grinned. Can you even imagine how many lives that could improve? Even outright save?! The library book is nothing compared to that.

Oracle offered up the idea of splitting between the sleek footed and strong armed, but it was the implied potential to ambush the inquisitor or bossy little boy that made Spoiler pause. _Barb always does her homework. What the hell did she even dig up on these two last night?_ When due process was lower on the priorities of the heir to the Justiciars than a potential jump and dump, the noble and inquisitor had to both be viciously guilty of ugly past-times. The rogue nodded.

Really love the top down approach, Oracle, and Im with you to make this mission happen. But I already told ya last night; thats not my name. She reminded breezily. Although, funny thing you mention our guest from the church. You remember when I spoke to Inquisitor Strange yesterday, before any mention of their army? He told me enough gold might make things move, but its suspect if even holy warriors give too much of themselves. It reminded me of that parable about the foxes, as biblical as that gets. 

Anything major happens to Azrael, the subtle message hinted to Kate and Barbara went, and we trigger an army marching to steal Foxs wealth. No matter what questionable declarations the holy man made about what The Merchants Guild did inside its vaults, it was better to let Azreal waltz safely through the night unblemished. Spoiler couldnt rightly claim she wanted to harm a child tied up in criminality, either. The younger the mind, the more time they had for improvement. But she had seen Oracle render hardened criminals helpless if unharmed, and strong ones at that.

Still, like I said, Im with ya.  

The boys lithesome little form produced the sai she thought had ended up serving some Fort Clinton low life, and she laughed, her good cheer returned. It certainly wasnt the first time a sticky-finger child had gotten the best of her  she had lived too long in the Narrows for that  and she had done similar in good spirit before. But then Damien went from mocking sarcasm to antics refreshingly fitting his age, not trusting her to understand certain basic nuance. _Ah, but if he thinks me so foolish, I made an obvious mark yet. Truly a shocker, the hug being too much._

When he tossed it at an awkward angle, Spoiler sprang back comfortably to snag her sai midair, entire weight carrying end over end, and the splayed fingers of a single hand meeting the floor expectantly, before catapulting her body backwards into an upright stance. Unable to hide her pleasure at the one handed back handspring, she found the receding form of the noble already swiftly shooting off into the air attached to a mechanized grappling hook she had never known existed. This she eyed wistfully, before touching the black leather hiding the silver symbol. 

Estanna, if you ever wanna give your girl something nice for helping keep the Merchants on their feet... she muttered this before finally climbing the stairs up.

*Spoiler: Splitting up, Feathersnow, etc*
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Dunno if youd find it boring to split up while ebard is AFK, Feathersnow, so its not like its wrong to stay with us (only if you want to) instead. I personally want to go to the top floor because I think thats where the mezzaine (dungeon?) is; if we go there asap, the rest is probably easy. But go where you like. A paladin is probably the safest person to be beside in her.  
 

*Spoiler: Taking 10s and rolling 20s.*
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Take 10s,

Tumble/Perform: Weapon Drill (*24/16*) to catch sai and tumble with it. 
Move Silently: (*25*) 
Hide: (*25*)

Rolling, 

Search: (1d20+10)[*27*]
Spot: (1d20+7)[*12*]
Listen: (1d20+7)[*23*]
Appraise: (1d20+3)[*14*]

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## JbeJ275

_"Goddam Idiot Waynes."_ Murmurred Barbara as she raised one arm, letting Juluis fly from it with instructions to follow Damien and return to her if anything like fighting started. She then began to follow Spoiler up the stairs warily, checking any writings on the stairs describing contest as she went up. Occasionally breaking from doing so to talk with Spoiler.

"Umm Spoiler, sorry for messing up with the calls. I'm still new to this sort of... getting my hands dirty I guess. I've got way more expierience with the intruige where everyone's sitting behind desks and I just have to figure out whose corrupt with some magic and some searching and then kick it up the chain. The whole... mask.. cape.. weapons and lies and criminal conspiracies I actually have to runn through the night with I'm really still figuring out."

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## JoyWonderLove

Oh, no big. Really, its actually a great sign. Like a pedigree puppy making peace with some stray cat. Spoiler giggled into her mask. Besides, wouldnt it be way more worrying if all the lying and masks and stuff was actually second nature to you? Like, if I dont have integrity, I can still spend the rest of my life fleecing low lives and making bank. Maybe even buy off the Bards Guild so me and Robyn can pick up right where we dropped off. But if you dont have integrity? 

Spoiler put away her sai after a preliminary check Damien hadnt damaged it, and drew her dagger as they approached nearer the top of the stairwell. The wolves get their pick of the slaughter. Theres little point turning to Watchmen when even the House holding the reigns is about as trustworthy as your local crimelord. It wouldnt take long before most realize real justice is only a daggers throw away, and night starts bleeding into day. And I could make it in that world, too, I think, just fine. But I know too many that cant, Oracle. So I dont envy you going against your own nature, just to get the basic resources you need, to do the things you should have been able to do in the first place. But Im happy to nudge a few pieces into place if it help you keep the boat from capsizing. She stopped suddenly, looking behind to the wizard.

Speaking of things going down. House Sionis: What do you know about it? What about its Manor?

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## Feathersnow

Kate, stoic as always,  watches the less encumbered members of the group climb with ease that she could only replicate with psionics, if even then...

She trundles forward, sure to not go ahead of the group.

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler : The Opera House*
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As Spoiler turned to walk out, Vale smiled and nodded. 

*"Sure thing sweetie. Any time. Feel free to walk through the front door next time if you find anything you think I might be interested in. Stay safe out there."*

She smiled and winked as Stephanie left, and then walked away, turning back to admonish her apprentices some more.


Damien grappled up to the top level of the vault, and the party slowly began to work their way through the cavernous space.



*Spoiler: OOC Note for party*
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Please remember we have a new roll20 map up so once you've read through this prompt I encourage you to reference the map to help guide your exploration / decision making.


The place was dark, dusty, and gloomy. Moonlight shone in weak, ragged shafts from the skylight, cascading gently over the stacked crates and moldering walls. The Vaults were very much products of Gotham; ornate pillars held it's ceiling and higher stories aloft and great iron statues appeared to hold up some of the largest and most important balustrades. As the party worked their way through the first vault, they searched for all the promised dangers and wonders that Fox had advertised; signs of monsters, arcane energy outbreaks, traps, and/or treasure.

*Spoiler: Damien*
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Damien's decision to reach the topmost level was rewarded. The highest tier mezzanine only covered the very outermost ring of the building, adjacent to the walls on each side, with a wide open chasm in the middle looking down on the lower levels. The middle-most floor had large openings too, but it had a much larger surface area, with long sections that crossed from one side of the great old warehouse to the other. The bottommost floor was the largest, but from his high vantage, Damien could see that it was bifurcated into multiple rooms; by staring down from the top floor, he could see into some of the rooms that the rest of the party couldn't, but still others were closed from his sight. They'd have to search those manually.

He'd been right for another reason; the moonlight was strongest at the top level, and as he found time to adjust his gaze, he eventually began to take in his surroundings. He was perfectly well hidden from his perch, and was able to carefully make his way along the top level without making a sound. Finally, he'd been right about it's contents; down below the crates might have held run-of-the-mill magical weapons with weak enchantments, or low level spell scrolls or wands. But the horde up top was much more valuable. Here he saw a table, coated in dust, with an ornate golden pair of demons reaching up from it's center. Resting in their outstretched golden wings was a magical looking wizard's rod.

There, he saw a long display case, covered in some kind of crystalline glass cover, inside of which were several incredibly ornate magical rings, a wand, and a device he couldn't recognize. Some of the walls were covered in bookshelves, but the bookshelves held precious few books, and each of them was physically clasped in magical steel locks, and their spines crawled with latent arcane runes. In another area, he found a full alchemy lab (which was strange -- wasn't this cold storage?) and a series of incredibly expensive, rare looking potions and elixers. It went on like that; the top level was a mountain of platinum in waiting.

He didn't find much from his vantage on the floors below him, however. And he didn't hear anyone else moving around, besides his own party.


*Spoiler: Barbara*
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While she spoke with Stephanie, Barbara searched high and low, the two brooding nights walking behind them as they scrubbed the vault. The first room they found themselves was more like an atrium, filled with boxes containing basic magical materiel, like wand components. There were a whopping five doors leading out of it. They ignored most of them, pushing through the large metal doors in the center, and found themselves in what had to be the central great room of the vault. Two sweeping stone stairs went up around ten feet to a pedestal, before turning right and left another ten feet to reach the first mezzanine level. Somewhere up above them, Damien was probably still lurking, watching, but he was out of sight now.

They searched as they chatted, slowly making their way up the stairs to the second floor. Barbara had an easy time reading a lot of the magical writing on the items stored here; the second level held finished wands, blank spellbooks, crates of scrolls, magical arms and more. She combed through the area searching for the white crate Fox had mentioned, but came up with nothing. Eventually in one of the back corners they found some of the red "W" sigils Fox had warned them about. The area was trapped, and at multiple points Barbara managed to spot well hidden but telltale runes in place to trigger spells if any of them passed through their radius. Inside the trapped area was a pair of locked chests and a locked bookshelf.

Spoiler found another trapped area on the bottom most floor, but here, upon careful inspection, she discovered that the traps weren't blocking the crates that had been stacked up in their perimeter, but a secret iron door behind the crates. The door unlocked from the inside, and when they opened it, they found that it released into the alley next to the Vault. Barbara closely inspected the area around the door, and found the same sealing mechanism that had previously closed the main entrance to the vault shut.


*Spoiler: Stephanie*
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Stephanie and Barbara searched while they spoke. Barbara did a particularly excellent job identifying several magical run traps that even she herself had almost missed. Some of the traps were guarding clearly high valued magical treasure, Spoiler was able to determine that another set of traps was guarding a secret exit to the Vault. Barbara searched the area and confirmed the side door sealed when the rest of the Vault did. Still, it was an interesting inclusion.

The place was loaded with loot though -- her head began to spin at how many hundreds of thousands of gold pieces this place might be worth. Still though, she stayed focused on her mission. There was too much at stake to get distracted now.


The party pressed up through the main hall of the Vault onto the second floor. The place was huge, and packed with magical goods. After a good deal of searching though, they didn't find any trouble, and eventually Damien swooped down from the top floor to share as much with the team on the second level. Eventually they made their way back downstairs, clearing all of the side rooms before finally making their way back out again.

*"Well that was uneventful."* Spoiler quipped. 

Barbara turned back towards the main iron doors of the vault, ensuring they were sealed tight, then turned a mechanical ring on the Void Key. Doing so brought the Void Seals back into position over the door, and she entered the key once more, turning it, and causing the strange mechanical sequence of arcane locks to repeat itself just as it had when she'd opened the vault, only this time in reverse. The "inner light" shining on the Vault's windows came back on, and the Void Vault was shut. 

They repeated this process two more times, and each with no further eye opening discoveries. Both the _Codex_ and trouble remained elusive, though each Vault brought a new surprise. For one thing, the layout in each Vault was _similar_...but not identical. In some places there were different arrangements of walls, where a wall from a previous vault would be missing or a new one would show up where none had been prior. The _general_ layout -- the floors, the support pillars, the glass-like roofs -- this all remained static, but each vault was slightly unique.

Working off of their discovery from the first Vault, Barbara, Stephanie and Damien continued to look for -- and find -- traps. These trapped areas too were in different places and rooms each time, leaving no two Vaults the same. They also found that there were sometimes one, two or three secret exits to each vault, accessible only once the Void Key had cracked the building's outer seal. Each time they entered a new chamber, they found ever more incomprehensible treasures. Some of the artifacts they came across looked like they'd be enough to buy a small castle, all on their own.

In the fourth Vault, things got a little stranger. Damien noticed the rank smell first, and after entering Barbara's awareness of spellcraft helped identify that some of the physics in the place were...off. She picked a book off a stack and threw it into the air, where it hovered a long time before eventually slowly making it's way back down to the ground.

Ultimately, it was Damien that found the corpses. Several dead and partially decayed displacer beasts were rotting up at the top level. He reported it, and the party came running.

*"Bloody things must have found some way in by accident."* Oracle speculated, shaking her head. 

*"Wasn't that supposed to be impossible?"* said Spoiler.

"*"Supposed to."* Damien quipped.

Eventually, further searching found signs of ectoplasmic residue in another area of the fourth vault -- evidence, Oracle pointed out -- that there may have been some undead manifestations long ago. But whatever it was that had caused the mess, it was long gone now. Eventually they finished their sweep and resealed the Fourth Vault.

The fifth Vault passed without a commotion too, and the mission was beginning to look like the easiest stack of money they'd ever made. That was, of course, until they broke the seal on the final Vault.

Oracle immediately noticed a problem; some sort of strange, sticky, glowing substance was seeping out of the edges of the iron doors behind the seal. She investigated it as best she could but couldn't determine the substances' exact nature.

"*What does it mean?*" Stephanie asked.

"*It means this place was contaminated. The reports about arcane leakage here weren't complete BS after all. Be on your guards in there.*"

The party entered the sixth and final Vault. Here too, they found a very similar -- but still "off" -- structure, slightly different than each place that'd come before it, and here too they found it filled to the brim with arcana. In the main atrium, several glowing blue puddles pooled around similar stacks of supplies, and they made care to step around them.

*"I wonder if Fox knew."* Spoiler wondered aloud.

*"Knew what?"* said Kate.

*"I wonder if he knew what order we'd search the Vaults in."*

*"Hard to imagine how he could have. Why?"*

*"What, weren't you all counting?"* said Spoiler. She looked out and received blank stares in response. 

*"The secret exits, dummies. The first Vault had one exit that we could find. Second had two. There were three in the third one."*

*"Wait a minute..."*

*"Are you saying there may be as many as six alternate entrances to this Vault, now that we've unsealed it?"*

*"All's I'm saying, Red, is that if you wanna bet on it, starting bid is 500 gold. There's gonna be more than a few alternate entry points to this sucker."*

Oracle shook her head.

"*We need to move quickly, then.*"

The party was standing in the sixth Vault's atrium. Here, there were five separate doors, just as before; two on the right, two on the left, one straight ahead. Experience at this point told them there would be stairs leading to the second floor beyond the door in front of them, but multiple rooms that needed searching to their left and right.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, so I pushed us forward a good bit for the sake of keeping us on track, but if anyone wants to take any actions during the search of the previous five vaults, you can create a Spoiler tab in your reply to do so. I'm keeping your take ten and rolled results from your checks, those have all been reflected in your IC discoveries and actions. I didn't have you take anything from the vaults, but if someone feels their fingers getting sticky just say so.

We're still not in turn order, but go ahead and roll for initiative now, just so that I've got it for reference when the time eventually comes. Let me know if I missed anything.

First move is to pick a door.

----------


## MrAbdiel

The child Damien is fairly unimpressed by the displacer beast carcasses; but the ectoplasm seems to bother him more.  With a heavy sigh, he takes off his backpack, and fishes out a vial; a slim glass vessel filled with an opaque orange fluid, and a tiny word identifying it on the cork - 'Ghostblind'.

"If there are spirit-predators in the area, we can't afford for someone to be possessed.  These are good for ten minutes until you go hostile, or start casting.  Keeps dead eyes from seeing you, and dead ears from hearing.  I recommend hanging onto it until it looks like we have trouble with something that doesn't breathe."  He gives the vial to Azrael.  And then produces another, and another, and two more; enough for the whole party, evenly distributed, tucking his own into a fold in his gi. "...And I want them back if it doesn't turn out that way," he appends, as if fearful of appearing thoughtful or generous.

"Clear the side rooms first.  Can't afford to have some gutter-mage who has been squatting in these vaults and gearing up on supreme arcana come squeezing off fireballs from behind us, when we move into the main vault."

And with that, Damien moves to the closest door to himself - the one on the far right, and takes a moment to listen at its surface.  If that yields nothing, he'll delicately try the handle, quiet as he can, and crack the door open enough to peek inside.

*Spoiler: Rolls!*
Show

*Initiative* - (1d20+5)[*12*]
*Listen at the Door* - (1d20+5)[*12*]
*Open Lock if it happens to be locked and there is no noise* - (1d20+6)[*13*]
[ROLL=Maybe Sleight of Hand to open the door quietly and discreetly?]1d20+10[/ROLL]

* post roll count doesn't match database

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate, being the muscle who barely even knows how to look for things,  or what things to look for, steps behind Damien, ready to chop at anything that charges him.

*Spoiler: initiative*
Show

 (1d20+1)[*17*]

----------


## ebarde

Azreal takes a step forward, going into a ready stance as he prepares for a possible fight. His eyes then glow in divine light, as he uses *detect evil* on the doors.


[roll]1d20-1[/roll]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Jbe/Feather on the TG, Molan on the items*
Show



@Jbe, Feather, the first part is the only one relevant to you. Im basically mentioning the Sionis Manor and (more important) The Thieves Guild. Its a request to coordinate against them by nudging institutions, and basically asking what you guys suggest for that? Im worried theyll target us if we dont keep them off balance now. Let alone just beat them down? 

@Molan, I mentioned that Okay, any of you see a half decent looking dagger or piece of armour around, give it here? Fox wants these Vaults completely safe for volunteers later, and theres no reason we cant quality check a few goodies at the same time. Win-win, right? Ill hand it back when Oracle does the key. 

You mentioned that if were interested in nabbing something we should speak up, but Im settling for a middle ground approach? Im basically rolling the dice that MAYBE I can get a rental on better equipment to help with the Vaults, but I kind of get it if thats a little much for a player to put out there. Otherwise, gems! Im fine liberating a shiny or three.  :Small Smile: 


 

=*Chapter 2, going from Vault to Vault*=

The way of it is, the conversation continued in Vault one after they found what would become their only secret exit, while Oracle and Batwoman was near. A source I met recently mentioned something worth hiding is going down at Sionis Manor. Im not exactly suggesting its worth either of your time to chase rumours and hearsay with me when theres bigger issues; Velnire  the Midtown Underboss?  hes pissed about last night. No surprise; but we have to be known by now. Aliases, appearances, the like.  

No attempt was made to hide the worry in her voice, smooth the crease around her eyes. Ive already nudged a few people. If were lucky, theyll deliver a nice gut punch to the Guild sometime soon. Keep them reeling, right? But I cant promise anything actually comes of it, and a bunch of mercenaries are easy targets if were not careful, and the Thieves Guild arent kept busy. The rough cool stone beneath her hand revealed no loose stones or false bricks, so the blonde turned away for lack of access to any secret door she could find. 

Thats why Im going to check out Sinois Manor after all this. Theres huge potential for someone paying up for whatever details are dug up. Im good with company with either of you are in, but I get it if you have better plans or ideas in mind. Im not the knightly tactician or savvy diviner here. Any ideas on keeping the Thieves Guild occupied? 

*****

Before Vault twos gigantic metallic front door, Spoiler spoke up as the interlocking mechanisms clicked and ranked its way open after Oracle turned the key. Okay, any of you see a half decent looking dagger or piece of armour around, give it here? Fox wants these Vaults completely safe for volunteers later, and theres no reason we cant quality check a few goodies at the same time. Win-win, right? Ill hand it back when Oracle does the key. 

*****

So, seriously, do you actually work for Batman himself? Spoiler asked in Vault four when she found Kate out of anyones earshot while they swept an empty chamber on the bottom floor. How did you even get that kind of job? Were you bumping boots before that, or didja bust the same place and get to talking or?

*****

By the halfway point of the fifth Vault, Spoiler had accepted the entire evening was going to be effortless. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. Im just a hobbyist uh-huh. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. A simple commoner duh. Oh, the Waynes aint got **** on me uh-huh! Never-mind Gotham City itself-uh! Whenve you last been relevant, huh? Sometime, past a decade! 

*****

On the bottom floor of the sixth Vault, there was an odd tension in the air that hadnt been found in all the previous sweeps. As Damien inched up to a door, Spoiler cleared her throat quickly as a subtle request to hold. Slapping a bolt into the hand crossbow and hopping up on the crate beside the inquisitor, she quickly crouched behind yet another rune covered crate before her. Staring down the middle of the crossbow to the door beyond, she gave the lightest whistle to indicate readiness. 

*Spoiler: Initiative*
Show



Initiative: (1d20+5)[*19*]

----------


## Molan

Azrael stalked around the main atrium, working his way in between the stacks of boxes, and the blue glow in his eyes scanned each one of the five doors in turn. After he passed the first one, furthest to the right, he rapped his knuckles on it.

"*This one's clear.*"

*Spoiler: Azrael: Detect Evil (no peaking you scamps)*
Show

The first door has no evil aura's behind it, but the second to the right door does; standing near it you can detect one faint evil aura. The centermost door is clearly filled with enemies, but whoever they are, they're standing at the very edge of your spell's range; you have to get right up to the door, but you can detect at least five separate auras, all of them faint. 

The next door over is not compromised, but the final door, to the far left, contains something. This aura is moderate in power, and it's hiding only a few feet from the door.


Damien edged up to the door and manipulated it's handle. Locked. He took out a couple of objects from his belt and began to fiddle with it, before being rewarded with a satisfying *click* sound and earning a mixed look of amusement and admiration from Spoiler.

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

You're able to pick the lock with little effort. You slide inside the room silently and find it's about 30 ft. wide and 30 ft. deep, and mostly just filled with more arcana supplies. However, you do find two chests in here, each with high quality locks. One of the chest's appears to be trapped.


*Spoiler: Oracle and Spoiler*
Show

****In the Fourth Vault****

After scanning around the first floor, Barbara read some of the arcane script on one of the cases and pried it open, revealing a stack of scrolls within. She took a handful out and the party moved up to the second level to search it. Eventually, Oracle found several weapon and armor racks and called Spoiler over to them.

*"Would this do?"* she asked, proferring what looked like an elf-made dagger in an elegant sheath. Spoiler inspected it, and it was clearly enchanted, but also unidentified, and she didn't have any means of solving for that.

*"I mean, maybe?"*

Barbara just smiled, and took out one of the scrolls she'd secured from the bottom floor.

*"I can't imagine Fox can afford to part with too many of these, but there are literally like a hundred of them down there."*

She held the scroll aloft, holding her hand outstretched in the direction of the dagger, and read the arcane words. Spoiler could feel a familiar sickening feeling as arcane magic swelled invisibly in the air, and several white glowing runes appeared in the air in front of her as the page slowly disintegrated in her hands.

*"Holy crap!"* Barbara blurted, covering her own mouth as the exclamation spilled out. *"Listen to this!"*

*Spoiler: The Dagger - Identification*
Show

The Dagger Barbara identified is a breathtaking Mithril Blurstrike Dagger of Deadly Precision, +2. In addition to the powerful enhancement bonus and special materials, this weapon causes an enemy to be flatfooted the first time you strike him with the weapon each round, up to 10 times per day. Any successful sneak attacks do a whopping extra 2d6 points of damage. The item is, neatly put, priceless, and a quick appraise check marks it at around 73,000 gold pieces retail.


*"You sure you wanna lift that? Fox is definitely going to notice."*

Spoiler grinned sheepishly. *"Well, I mean, I was going to give it back..."*

But they both stood there for a moment longer, considering the breathtaking amount of wealth Stephanie was holding in her palm, and what the implications were for the total contents of the rest of the vaults.


Azrael began to gesture towards the other doors. 

*"Trouble here,"* he said, pointing towards the second door to the right. *"And here...and...here."* he pointed in turn towards the middle door, which concealed the main hall, and the leftmost door. Only the rightmost door and the middle left door apparently did not contain danger. The paladin drew his sword.

*"Does anyone have a preference?"*

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate says "turn around, and hold on a second..."  she gets out her dorje and uses shield once Azrael either averts his eyes or makes it clear he won't.

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

  "I don't actually know Batman personally,  no.  I just feel inspired by him.  And implying I am with him makes me scarier.  And fear keeps people honest."

The fact she blushed at the implications the follow-up question was hidden by her helmet...

"As for that, no... I haven't met Batman, but _he_ isn't really my type.  If you understand my meaning.  And I'm seeing someone. Anyway... 

No, I just retired my commission and realized I was in a position to help.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien has a moment to spare while the inquisitor does his determinations; so he puts his tools to work on the non-trapped chest in the little room.

Once hes done there, he emerges and hears Azraels report and, once again assuming unearned authority, gestures to Kate and Azrael, and then to the remaining unopened door on the right; before flattening himself against the wall beside it.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Take 10 for 18 picking the lock (forgot my masterwork tools last time!)

And then take 10 for a 27 to hide, awaiting the platies to open the door to dangertown USA.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Talking with Spoiler and Batwoman*
Show



The way of it is, the conversation continued in Vault one after they found what would become their only secret exit, while Oracle and Batwoman was near. A source I met recently mentioned something worth hiding is going down at Sionis Manor. Im not exactly suggesting its worth either of your time to chase rumours and hearsay with me when theres bigger issues; Velnire  the Midtown Underboss?  hes pissed about last night. No surprise; but we have to be known by now. Aliases, appearances, the like.  

No attempt was made to hide the worry in her voice, smooth the crease around her eyes. Ive already nudged a few people. If were lucky, theyll deliver a nice gut punch to the Guild sometime soon. Keep them reeling, right? But I cant promise anything actually comes of it, and a bunch of mercenaries are easy targets if were not careful, and the Thieves Guild arent kept busy. The rough cool stone beneath her hand revealed no loose stones or false bricks, so the blonde turned away for lack of access to any secret door she could find. 

Thats why Im going to check out Sinois Manor after all this. Theres huge potential for someone paying up for whatever details are dug up. Im good with company with either of you are in, but I get it if you have better plans or ideas in mind. Im not the knightly tactician or savvy diviner here. Any ideas on keeping the Thieves Guild occupied? 

"The issue is, the city shoudn't be relying on strikes by well meaning mercanries and vigilantes just to do the day to day job of keeping criminals on the back foot. But the people who shoud do that, the justicars are corrupt, or crippled by corruption from below, beside and above. Corruption we can't excise without proof or other corrupt organisations will stop anything getting done and ramp up the bloodshed for a while for winding them up. But... I can't get the proof I need alone. I'll do this job with you if you promise to help me secure the evidence I need to oust Bullock in another one later."




"Smart." Says Barbara after seeing what Kate's doing, as she then weaves _Mage Armour_ around her own form. Staying perhaps ten feet behind the armoured forms opening the door, but ensuring she can see within when they open it up.

----------


## Feathersnow

After everyone is ready, the heavily armored woman opens the latch, steps back, and pushed the door open with her poleaxe.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

The chest contained what looked like the material components to build wands and rods, or perhaps all of the components were simply the materials required for spellcasting. Damien couldn't be sure, but he find several small bags of gems, 500 gold pieces, several silver and golden rods, and several bundles of enchanted threads, amongs a large assortment of junk.


Kate opened the door, revealing the next chamber beyond. It was a long, rectangular room, once again mostly cluttered with Guild goods. The room contained several prominent looking locked chests. At one end, several old archery targets made of rotten wood, straw, and leather strips laid in poor repair. A large weapon rack rested on the far wall. Several weapons were still in it, including a guisarme, a longspear, a greatsword, and a net. The weapons were clearly enchanted.


*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Assuming that you're still running with your search result from the beginning of the mission, which I think is only fair, the following occurs:

You notice a ring of what look like very feint carvings on the ground in the middle of the chamber, outlining a 10ft by 15ft area of the floor, in the general vicinity of where an archer using the practice targets would have stood. The carvings are covered in dust and almost imperceptible, but you've been on your game tonight and managed to pick out what's clearly a magical trap. You can move around the trap without triggering it either by moving along the far wall in front of the weapon rack, or by crawling over a pile of barrels on the wall closest to you.

Roll for Spot, but hide your result.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Kate/Feathersnow, Barbara/Jbe, talking Thieves Guild strategy*
Show



*Spoiler:  OOC*
Show

Sorry if any of this comes across as a bit much; this will be my last long comment in the Vaults on the Thieves Guild. I wrote this to highlight +I presume+ theres a real threat if we allow the Thieves Guild to have breathing room, but also to understand how you two feel about tackling them with Downtime. If you answer like Im still in a planning stage/the justiciars really are the answer/trust me I have an even bigger problem, thats a 100% perfect response and Ill otherwise drop it entirely. Knowing ahead of time whos helping me nip at them piranha style, and whos focusing elsewhere, is useful and good characterization.  :Small Big Grin:  
 

Spoilers head bobbed sideways as she regarded Oracle quietly. Bullock  is a well-wedged bolder. Getting him out would safeguard Gothams families from threats above, and below. But maybe thats besides your point? Ill help you with Bullock any day you ask, so long as Robyn doesnt need me more at the time. No trade needed or charge asked. She folded her hands then and leaned back on the dark stone wall she had checked moments ago for secret entrances. But your approach is like a chess player thinking four moves forward, and my peeking into the Manor is little more snakes and ladders. The dragon on our ass might well breathe hot either way. More immediate options would be great to get us to that long game. 

Spoiler tilted her head upwards, staring at the unknowable glass sealing, as though peering through and past it would reveal the answer. She gradually came to regard what was before her again, more focused. Oracle, the Mage College has every noble family worth talking to in student, and faculty. The Thieves Guild also have their biggest stakes in Midtown and Uptown, and theyre thankfully too stupid not to piss where they play. Do you know any powerful nobles they stole from? Diviners with aspirations of becoming Bloodhounds? Abjurers with wounded self-worth for thieves getting past their barriers? Anyone we can bribe, barter or begrudge into bloodying the Thieves Guild would work here. Im more than happy if you want to gamble with me on whats going on over at the Sionis Manor. But I cant promise itll help our self-preservation. Only that the information might be worthwhile. 

Ocean blue eyes flicked over to the armoured dame. Batwoman? I missed the Herald article on what the armies of House Kane are looking like nowadays, but Im guessing a military vet would never declare war on anyone lightly, let alone a big criminal organisation like this one. Her expression eased for the obvious realization that Kate and her House were a force unto themselves, professional and strategic. Itd be great if you could hint if you have any haymakers winding up for them, or to know if you need help gathering information to figure out where their safehouses or weaknesses might be to strike at. Im not saying dish sensitive details when we met, what, a whole day ago? But theres strength and security in numbers, and Im hoping youre not in the habit of turning down reserves.  
 

=*Chapter 2, trouble unlocked*=


Spoiler silently swung the weapon at hand and levelled it at the new door as Kate nudged it open, only for it to reveal absolutely nothing threatening. Rotten archery targets. A bunch of locked chest. Enchanted but untouched weapons. The blonde stared at the inquisitor, unimpressed. Sighing loudly to release unnecessary nerves, she pointed her crossbow up at the ceiling. The rotten strawman with a frown made of black thread looked dead at her with two brown button eyes, daring her to aim at his bullseye covered chest. She rolled her shoulders to help flush the tension from them. 

So, anyone else think we should double time this and be done with it? Were not gonna find anything in here. Those displacer beasts earlier probably just starved and attacked each other for nothing else to gnaw on, and whatever ghosts are around obviously dont like the living. With that, Spoiler reattached the crossbow to the back sling she unsurprisingly dyed purple, and hopped off the crate with ease. The endlessly enchanted dagger she would have to return eventually was dragged from its sheath on her right, the old one snug on the left. We can give a solid final search for the book after weve sealed all the secret doors and confirmed our only company is Cobblepot level wealth. Anyone that wants to, speak up or get into position now. 

Short of a sharp and strong demand not to, Spoiler strolled over to the leftmost chamber door that supposedly had trouble behind it as well, but adopted a wary stance despite herself. Years of surviving Gothams nightlife meant care and precaution, even when not strictly needed. She attempted to open the door.

*Spoiler: Molan/chamber door*
Show

 So theres five doors in this room, three detected some kind of evil by the paladin. Im guessing we just opened the second door to the right and all thats around us are  evil items, so Im going to the leftmost door to check. Open Lock is a *20* with Take 10. Total defensive action (+6 AC thanks to investing in Tumble ranks) if possible before opening the door, or at least fight defensively (+3 AC thanks to Tumble ranks).

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien _hears_ everything Spoiler says.  And impatient as he is, he might agree with her; but his total lack of response suggests that either he didn't hear her, or he's obnoxiously omitting to respond to anyone's thoughts but his own.  Once Batwoman nudges the door open and a quick scan shows no occupants visible, the black-clad child skulks swiftly between her legs, into the room proper, and gives it a sneaking patrol to make sure there's nothing hiding in a corner they missed.  If there's nothing, he'll check over the door at the far end of the room - searching it swiftly for traps, then checking the lock - though not picking it, just yet.

*Spoiler: Rolls!*
Show

Search for Traps: (1d20+2)[*4*]
Spot for Hiding Enemies: (1d20+3)[*15*]

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Talking Thieves Guild Strategy*
Show


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Super no worries about doing this, it is great fun. But I'm not sure how much downtime really will achieve here, the thieves guild is a big organisation and it goes against the spirit of batanning for us to really have too many forces besides ourselves to call on. I'm up for helping you nip at them but don't think I can funnel assets your way the way you described. 



"I hate to tell you this, and maybe I've missed something you would have seen but the city isn't like this because the good guys are sitting on a pile of men, connections and other assets that they've just forgotten to use until now. If we get a new mage or noble in the fight against the thieves guild it'll be because we paid dearly for it, because we won it in a hard fought campaign or because we're taking them off of some other front we have to fight on."

"The way I see it there are four kinds of people in this city, the criminals and their corrupt lackeys, that's about a third of the justicars and the same number of low mages, plus houses Cobblepot, Nigma, Lawton, the New Dents and probably the Cranes too. Then there are those who know the first sort could have their families drinking seawater by the end of the week if they don't go along another half of each the wizards and justicars, plus more or less every other house out there, the third consists of... the people in this room, the batman, my parents, and a half dozen other justicars mages or guildmasters each. The forth kind consists of people who have either left this city or are saving for a ticket out as we speak. Frankly, they're the only one's I'm more than fifty perent sure are sane. Maybe you've got a better picture than me, and from the sounds of things your muuch better at getting the first kind of people to pick fights among themselves, but I don't have an army waiting in the wings to swoop in and take the pressure off everytime we pull something. Not until we can make one, and as you've said, that means breaking some boulders. Unil then, you've got me and if you'll back me, I'll back you. 



"I wish Spoiler, this place is trapped to the hells and back, see these carvings? It's a magical trap of one kind or another, old stuff too. You might be right to move on but let me check this out first, if it's keyed as a seal or a containment trap it could give us some hints about what else is in here, and we'll need to mark it off if the workers are going to be in here anyway."

She then moves around the trap, and picks up and considers the net, aware she hasn't the training to use it well but considering it's possible enchantments. 

*Spoiler: Actions*
Show


Gonna cast _Read Magic, swapping out my detect to look over the nature of the trap, with a 23 spellcraft if needed._



She then takes a similiar position to the erlier one, facing the door that's next to be opened.

----------


## Molan

Damien brushed past Kate, Azrael and Barbara and slunk through the room. When he passed over the area near the weapon rack, a ring of runes, previously undetectable under the dust, began to glow in a 10x15ft square around him, and a burst of invisible magical energy erupted in the room, causing the party's stomachs to perform backflips while their hairs stood on end.

To the group's collective horror, as the magical trap was triggered, the weapon rack near Damien appeared to spontaneously grow a long tentacle, gripping the guisarme that had been hanging on it and sweeping it outwards, hooking at the boy's feet. Luckily, the trip attempt missed, but as the party watched in horror, the "weapon rack" began to grow several new appendages, wrapping them around the other enchanted weapons hanging there.

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Make a Will Save.


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Spoiler entered the room and found it also full of large boxes, however there were a couple of magical looking metal chests stacked in one corner. As she panned around the room, she felt a strange tingling sensation, and she became acutely aware that the room felt deeply cold. She suddenly couldn't shake the feeling that she was not alone. It started seem almost as though the shadows in the room were growing longer, or perhaps that the walls were bleeding - she couldn't tell whether it was a trick of her imagination. She stood immobile as the very thing they'd been worried about running into began to manifest in front of her; the long dead spirit of a man or a woman -- she couldn't really be sure. Whoever it was hadn't died well -- their neck looked ripped open and their eyes were gouged in the shape of stars.

The ghost lunged at her, and Spoiler braced herself.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make a Will Save.



*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

It's a Confusion trap; it's existence appears to be independent of the Mimic that camped out next to it, meaning the trap was installed before the Mimic showed up. DC is ***18 :-/

----------


## MrAbdiel

He never did learn to mind his surroundings.  The child now and often in a warring state of lethal, cold blooded skill and oscillating, juvenile curiousity, he had permitted the latter to gain power over the former.  Just from the corner of his eye, he saw the rack move and the polearm lash for his ankles.  From the ankles he springs and the weapon sings through the air beneath him - but the monstrosity that reveals itself is a thing to behold...

*Spoiler: Will Save!*
Show

Go ninja go ninja go ninja GO: (1d20+5)[*19*]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler*
Show

 Will: (1d20)[*11*]

----------


## Molan

The trap's magic seemed to wash over Damien and he winced for a moment as he struggled against it's pull, but as the spell's attack dissipated, he blinked a few times and remained more or less unharmed and unaffected. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Azrael get's to go first, we're in combat now so turn order is up (you should be able to see the turn counter on roll20 as well if you're looking for a neat snapshot). If I don't hear from ebarde after a reasonable amount of time I'll autopilot him.


Meanwhile, Spoiler stepped back out of the far left room, having apparently found it empty, and began to make her way back towards the sound of all of the commotion.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate curses in Celestial,  which is barely possible, and uses her psionics to attempt to change the initiative order so she can charge the abomination before it eats young master Wayne.

*Spoiler: chance of failure* 
Show

(1d100)[*80*]
On a 10 or lower, I fail and suffer enveration.

If I succeed, I charge the mimic
(1d20+10)[*25*] to hit
[Roll]2d6+4[=roll] damage if I hit

----------


## Molan

Psionic energy swirled and time seemed briefly disjointed as Kate lurched -- or perhaps skipped -- ahead, past Azreal and into the room, where she appeared in front of the "weapon rack" and hacked down, center of mass, cleaving a bloody track of destruction and eliciting a howl of monstrous pain from the beast. Purple ichor-like blood splattered out onto the ground, covering some of the still-glowing runes on the floor.

----------


## Molan

Azreal eagerly burst into the room right after Kate, swinging his falchion high over his head and bringing it down in a brutal chop, putting his full weight into the swing. The blade glowed as he swung and as the sword cut into the mimic it unleashed a burst of holy energy. He unleashed a fresh new gout of ichor and the strange alien beast howled in anger.

As Azreal had leapt in, the glowing spear lowered from the rack to impale him but the tentacle holding it was too slow and he'd managed to duck underneath it. A third tentacle swung the glowing great sword at Azreal but that one missed as well. It began to seem as though the monsters injuries were affecting it's prowess. Along the top of the weapon rack, several yellow eyes glared at him in malice and pain.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Suddenly, the air was filled with deadly blades- but at least they weren't all aimed at him.  Azrael and Batwoman lashed the morphing creature before him, and the way was open for Damien to lay in too - but his skills were wasted in direct conflict, and he knew it.  With a blur of speed, one hand vanishes into a fold of his gi then whips down at the ground, releasing a pinch of what seems to be sand before it roils up in a plume of black smoke engulfing him, vanishing a second later - and with it, the young scion.

Unseen now, Damien makes a quick adjustment: he ducks out of the combat, steps light and unseen up onto the crates beside with a hop, and with matching movements of both hands, draws and whips forth a pair of tiny, dark steel stars not much larger than a silver coin.  It's a hasty effort - normally he aims and targets carefully, and only with his good hand; but he's embarrassed, and angry, and desperate to avenge himself on the creature.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Damien uses a swift action to spend a Ki point and _ghost step_, going invisible.  He moves over on top of the crates nearby (he can make the jump without a roll), and whips two shuriken at the mimic, targeting the rearmost square to avoid the allies in combat penalty.

Attack with regular shuriken is +10.  Up to +12 because he's invisible while making the attacks.  Dual wielding light weapons goes down by -8 and -4, for a +4 and +8 respectively!

*Right Hand Shuriken* - (1d20+8)[*20*] [ROLL=Damage]1+3d6[/ROLL]
*Left Hand Shuriken* - (1d20+4)[*12*] [ROLL=Damage]1+3d6[/ROLL]

Damien remains invisible until this time next turn; so even if he hits, folks might not he contributed at all! :D

----------


## JbeJ275

Seeing the impressive work the more martial among them is doing breaking down this creature, Barbara reaches into a pouch at her side and casts _Enlarge Person_ from a scroll targetting Kate, then keeping her distance as the whirl of blades inreases in volume and speed.

----------


## Molan

As Kate began to grow and Barbara's spell swirled around her, the "weapon rack" in front of her and Azrael abruptly collapsed, pools of ichor spilling out all around it. The weapons it'd been carrying clattered to the floor, and for a moment the scene seemed safe.

Or at least it was, right up until the chest on the opposite side of the room suddenly grew tentacles, eyes, and fangs, and letting out a guttural howl, charged after Kate.

One of it's tentacles whipped out at Kate and lashed against her, drawing blood.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate takes 8 damage (is your miss chance up? I may have missed that). It's Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate lashes around, takes a step back onto the slime of the first dead enemy,  and smashes down with her poleaxe!
*Spoiler: attack!*
Show


(1d20+7)[*15*] to hit
(3d6+5)[*21*] damage

----------


## Molan

Kate went to slam apart the angry treasure chest with her polearm, but suddenly jerked as she found it was still stuck -- on the weapon rack. Worse, when she looked down at her torso, she saw the treasure chest's tentacle had adhered itself to her and was wrapping around her body.

Outside the room with the mimics, Oracle stood in the doorway, watching the fight unfold. She was so absorbed by the unfolding combat, she didn't notice Spoiler return from the far left room. She also didn't notice as she drew her newly acquired magical knife from under her cloak and jammed it into her back.

Azreal turned away from the weapon rack and charged the chest, but his swing came up short, scraping across the beast's hide but doing no damage. The mimic responded by continuing to grapple with Kate, it's incredible strength crushing her in it's tentacle.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Whelp I'll admit it I am a bit dissapointed with how the weapon rack mimic turned out but things are turning around bebyyyy!!!!

Don't panic I'm sure you guys will get it together. 

Okay so Kate you take an additional 11 damage from the tentacle but you can now make a grapple check to break free from the Mimic. That brings you to a total of -19 for the fight so far. I updated the HP in roll20 just to keep track.

I had Azreal go after the mimic again but no dice on the second swing. 

Barbara unfortunately is doing a good bit worse. She takes a whopping 19 damage dropping her to only 4 HP. Someone might want to go give her a hand.

It's Damien's turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"What are you doing!?"  The scion cries out as Batgirl's gasp of pain cranks his attention away from the mimic combat and to the doorway betrayal.  He doesn't have the information to assume spectral interference yet - though the thought is in his mind, as are questions of Spoiler's general loyalty.  Springing from the crates, he rushes toward the doorway, leading with one gauntleted hand defensively, the other hand tucked away in a fold of his gi, discretely smearing oil-black toxin onto the concealed shuriken.

*Spoiler: Actions*
Show

If I remember my 3.5 movement and distance correctly, every second diagonal square is 10ft, so Damien should be out of range of the mimic if he's smart.  He moves towards Batgirl and Spoiler trying to figure out what the hell is happening, and spends his action applying drow poison to a shuriken.

----------


## Molan

Spoilers eyes were wide and manic behind her mask. Damien couldn't see anything in her expression other than hate and murder. Strangely, she managed to rasp a reply.

*"Le...LEFT me!! Behind! You'll...you'll all stay behind n..now...."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Barbara's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Gah!! Cries Barbara as she's stabbed through from behind, she staggers a few feet forward from her unexpected assailant then reaches again into the folds of her robe, drawing a scroll of _Protection from Evil_ and reciting it's arcane words to try and expel the spirit from Spoiler.

----------


## Molan

Spoiler's dagger arm swiped after Oracle as she stumbled backwards, but the dagger ate nothing but air. Oracle was bleeding all over her clothes, but she whipped out a spell scroll, quickly rattled off the finishing words of the spell on the scroll and several runes appeared glowing in the air before gentle blew energy blew out from the scroll, washing over Spoiler's body, and the scroll glowed bright blue before disintegrating. 

Spoiler's body jerked and shook, her arms briefly forming strange angles and her torso bending, as the magic washed over her body, she moaned and groaned, and with a sudden *pop!*, the spirit occupying her body was abruptly forced out. 

The ghost was transparent but visible, ragged and angry looking, the edges of it's form fading into nothingness, and it didn't appear to have any legs, and it's eyes looked as though they'd been gouged out. It's "face" was a violent rictus of pain and anguish, and it's hands ended in sharp looking claws. Damien and Oracle looked upon it with a feeling of dread and horror, and as Spoiler was released from it's grip, she fell to one knee and started gagging, the magical dagger still gripped in her hand, still dripping with Oracle's viscera. 

The ghost shrieked an otherworldly howl.

"*L....LEFT ME!! LEFT ....ME...BEHIND!*" it twisted and contorted in the air, and made a strange, gutteral, choking noise in it's "throat". "*You'll stay b...behind too...*"

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It is extremely difficult not to think of the term "batman wizard" every time Barbara pulls a new trick out of her cowl, lol! Well done.

In case anyone's wondering about the mechanics, Ghost gets to make a will save against the spell but I rolled a 5...so, that's that lol.

It's Kate's turn. Feather, you'll need to make a strength check to remove your halberd from the weapon rack, but you ought to be able to count that as a move action and whack the new monster with a standard action if you can get it out.

----------


## Feathersnow

Only very stupid enemies attempted to engulf prey covered with spikes. Unfortunately,  perhaps,  mimics were quite stupid.

*Spoiler: ooc*
Show


(1d20+3)[*9*] base grapple
(1d4+4)[*7*] free spike damage 
Kate will attempt to overpower and pin the mimic

----------


## Molan

Kate's body spikes sank into the Mimic, and it's blood began to pour out around her. She lunged back against the beast, the two of them wrestling against each other's prodigious, mighty forms. She tried pinning it but it fought back, and their bloody contest continued. In the melee, Azreal was able to swing at the beast as it rolled forward to wrangle with Kate. He very nearly got his own weapon stuck against the beast's slime as he did so, but he pried the blade free successfully, leaving a bloody gash along the side of the "treasure chest". 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Mimic's grapple prompts an AOO from Azreal as I had to move it into Kate's space. Kate's attempt to pin the mimic fails (this time), but it takes automatic spike damage from her body. (No, they're not *that* bright). 

It's now Spoiler's turn, and she's ghost-free!

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Spoilers first real round*=  

Flung aside by a storm of rage and desperation, fear and regret, clarity finally dawned in Spoilers eyes. A wellspring of pure, bright gratitude and weighty guilt warred as Spoiler looked up at the masked Barbara that might well have saved her life, if not more. The tortured shriek behind her right shoulder sent her pulse spiking as the spirit wailed of being abandoned, of wanting others to share her hell. The insipid cold within the rogue was eaten by a rising anger, grip on bloody dagger tightened. But she quickly tapped a small squishy coin pouch on her belt and then her right wrist, blue eyes banking hard to the right of the boy ninja and heiress wizard, where their allies could be heard in the room beyond, fighting in the previously empty place. _Buying time. Help them._. 

We can free you! Spoiler declared, even while she drew a smokestick. Recover your remains, bless your body, bury you fairly! A billowing black filled the air all around Spoiler and Oracle both.

*Spoiler: Combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 18. +2 Protection from Evil. 

1, Move action to draw smokestick. (I assume Im standing already, not prone or whatever)

2, Standard action to ignite a smokestick. Then Hide (free action). 

Hide: (1d20+15)[*16*] 


 

*Spoiler: Why this and no sneak attack instead.*
Show



I literally cannot sneak attack this ghost without a flank, according to Lightbringer Rogue, which means that the Deadly Precision weapon wont work either. Even with a Blurstrike.  :Small Eek: 

So my choices are either to 

a) attack the ghost for 5 damage at absolute best when she has a 50% chance to dodge it anyway, or wait until I have a flank partner to have a shot at real damage. Not great. 

b) personally thirty foot run away and help flank and sneak attack the mimic. Which is okay, except the ghost acts before Oracle, and Im not about to do that when she just saved me. So no.

c) smokescreen to buy time so Damien at least can flank/attack/help remove the mimic so the entire party is free to then tackle this ghost problem together. This is what Im gambling on, as even Damien cant hurt the ghost with sudden strike regardless. The smoke also protects/covers Barbara so she can make a judgement call on whether to run into the room or not.

Not great, but this is the way right now.

----------


## Molan

Spoiler's smokestick broke and a burst of black cloud engulfed the immediate area, covering the ghost, Spoiler, Oracle and Damien all, partially but not completely obscuring everyone.

Inside the room, Azreal lurched his falchion overhead and slammed it down with all of his might on the mimic chest. He ripped out a huge cash of the creature's tissue, but as he recovered from his own strike the falchion got stuck in the creature's goo, leaving him disarmed, temporarily at least.

Outside the ghost released a terrifying moaning sound, and as the three adventurer's looked upon it's horrific visage, and listened to it's terrifying wail, they felt waves of dread cascading over them. As this happened, the mimic clenched it's grip on Kate, continuing to try to break her with it's grip.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, it's Damien's turn.

Damien, Spoiler and Oracle all need to make both Will _and_ fortitude saves. Ghosts be scary AF.

Kate, you take 7 damage -- it would be nine but I'm including your DR. 

Azreal got a solid chop in and the second mimic is not doing great -- BUT Azreal's been disarmed and will need a strength check to retrieve his weapon.

Good luck!

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damn!  Wrong thread!*
Show

Butts.

You can't destroy me!  I'm too beloved!



*Will* - (1d20+7)[*16*]
*Fort* - (1d20+3)[*21*]

I am gonna HOPE that means Damien is not fried and panicked, so I'll post as if I'm friggen invincible.  I'll alter if it turns out Damien wets himself and runs.


The ghost reveals its hideous nature, all distorted features and grotesquery and nightmare; and its mournful howl ripples through the vault with a sound that could peel paint.

And incredibly, bizarrely, the ten year old's gunmetal grey eyes flash with intense fascination.

"You should have stayed _dead_, spirit!"

With apparent fearlessness, he snaps into motion, handily sliding between Batgirl's feet through the doorway and springing forth into the smoke, ending alongside Spoiler and forming another length in the wall protecting the bleeding and injured Barbara.  His hands lash out at the spirit immediately as he slips and weaves, middle and index fingers hooked inside the gauntlets into rigid claws.  He is a familiar, if obscured silhouette beside Spoiler in the smoke now; not quite able to get into a flanking position, but up in the incorporeal fray, all the same.

*Spoiler: Attacks!*
Show

Damien attacks, but he can do no damage with his mundane gauntlets.  But for fun, I'll roll in the OOC.  Mainly he's attacking to activate his _Expertise_ so the ghost will have a harder time laying a hand on him.  Move to move, action to attack, turn done.  Next!

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbaras mind is racing in the seconds after her ghostly assumptions were confirmed. Most of what comes out are the choicest swears of a dozen justicar precincts and a great deal of unkind thoughts towards her teammates and the Barbaras of two weeks ago for purchasing only a single scroll. Then she recalls what little she knows of the undead and limps away from the ghost and into the other room, firing her crossbow at the mimic opposite their uninvited guest from the inquisition as she calls out to him.

"Hey! Tall dark and religious! We have a ghost in the other room can you help at all with that? Undead is church business right?"

*Spoiler: Actions*
Show


Crossbow: (1d20+6)[*19*]
For: (1d8)[*1*]+ (1d6)[*5*]

----------


## Molan

The mimic howls and heaves as Barbara's bolt strikes home. I'ts bleeding badly now, ichor is pouring out all over Kate's armor and spikes, pooling in a lake with it's fellow's near on the floor, covering the still glowing runes.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate continues to try to impale the creature on her quills!!

*Spoiler: grapple check*
Show

(1d20+10)[*26*]

----------


## Molan

Kate checks the mimic against the ground, pinning it and driving her enlarged spikes into it's body. The mimic choked and gagged, ichor pouring out of it's open "mouth". After a moment of being ground down by Kate's spikes, it eventually spasmed, and died.

Azreal managed to wrench his sword from the second mimic and rushed out of the room, finding the chaos in the foyer. He held up his holy symbol and began praying, and for a moment radiant holy energy poured out from him. The ghost seemed to writhe for a minute but then shook the effect off -- the paladin's attempt had failed.

The specter retaliated by swiping an ethereal, clawed hand at Azreal, but missed.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate successfully hugs the mimic to death. Spoiler is still panicked, and Azreal's turn effect failed because he's still on auto-pilot and I rolled a nat 1. Good news is he's immune to fear so we don't have to deal with that little wrinkle.

----------


## MrAbdiel

With Spoiler struck by supernatural compulsion to flee, Damien's eyes track to where the _borrowed_ dagger clatters on the tiles just as Azrael rounds the corner and fills the gap.  He can hear Batwoman thrashing against one of the mimic creatures in the other room - but all the scion can do is trust that's under control, and work in tandem with the churchman to his right to deal with this spectral threat.  And even though he had been tempted to scold Spoiler for taking it earlier, all of his ability to contribute hinged on that very blade.  "Steel your spirit, inquisitor.  And keep it occupied!"

He hops back a step, leaving the paladin duelling with the ghost, and slips a thumb into another discreet pocket of his gi.  The withdrawn digit is dusted with golden powder, quickly licked up by the scion and contributing a golden flash briefly in his eyes.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

5ft Step Backwards behind Azrael.  Move action to draw a _Potion of Gravestrike_.  Action to 'drink' it.  Next turn, if all goes well, Damien is lined up to scoop the dagger, vanish, and then sudden strike with it... Desperately hoping the ghostly miss-chance doesn't screw it all up! 
 :D

----------


## JbeJ275

With few options availible to her, given the surrounding of the ghost by her allies, her lack of single target spells that interact with ethereal undead and the massive knife wound in her back, Barbara forgoes direct combat instead taking a few desperate second to gulp down one of her healing potions, hoping to at least somewhat lessen the chance that one more blow sends her down. 


*Spoiler: Original Idea*
Show

With few options availible to her, given the surrounding of the ghost by her allies, her lack of single target spells that interact with ethereal undead and the massive knife wound in her back, Barbara forgoes direct combat with the ghost, instead searching this storeroom now that the mimcs have been removed for any magical weapons or other useful equipment to bring to bear against the ghost. 

*Spoiler: Search*
Show


(1d20+14)[*21*]

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate realizes, reluctantly,  she has few options to deal with the crisis on the other side of the door.  So she takes one of her healing potions.

*Spoiler: healz!*
Show

(1d8+2)[*8*]

----------


## Molan

Spoiler, still panicking, bolted out of the front door of the vault, falling to her knees just outside on the street, panting, out of breath, but slowly regaining control of her faculties once more.

Inside the Vault, Azreal continued to chant and pray, and this time, the effect seemed to work; the ghost abruptly shrieked, bolting away from him and passing through the large stacks of crates and boxes as fast as it could to get away from him. The trouble appeared to be, for a moment, over.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien growls as the the ghost flees, and takes off after it; running alongside the crates on their front side, scooping up the magic dagger as he breaks into that run.  Seething for reasons he doesn't completely understand, he whips a puff of flash powder at his feet mid stride, vanishes from view, and...

*Spoiler: Option 1*
Show

OOC: This is the action he'll take if, at the end of his movement, he can see any amount of the ghost that makes a viable target.  If not go to option 2.

...and flings the dagger at its incorporeal back!

*Spoiler: Rolls!*
Show

Let's see.  It's 20 ft away, so that's a range band penalty of 2.  It's also a dagger sized for a medium creature, so that's another 2.  Damien's invisible, so that's a bonus of 2.  And it's a +2 dagger!  So it's a net roll of flat versus the ghost's touch AC.  If it can see invisibility, this is all pretty moot anyway!

(1d20+10)[*22*] to hit.  If it hits, with the bonus for the dagger's sneak damage, it deals a potential (1d4-2)[*1*] (minimum 1) plus (5d6)[*17*] sudden strike damage, after which Grave Strike fades.  Naturally, the ghost gets its incorporeality chance to ignore it all!  Edit: Oh yeah, and 2 more damage because it's a +2 dagger.



*Spoiler: Option 2*
Show

OOC: This is the action he'll take if at the end of his movement he cannot see any amount of the ghost sufficient to make a viable target.  If he can, go to option 1.

...and pushing himself further, sprints around to the direct opposite side of the crates and lies in wait, dagger in hand, planning to ambush the ghost when it flees!

*Spoiler: Rolls!*
Show

No rolls in this case - it's just moving into a position, invisibly, where he hopes he'll get a chance to make an opportunity attack when it flees past him.




After that's 'resolved' for now and the spectre is out of reach, Damien retrieves the dagger again, wipes any remaining blood and ectoplasm from it, and stows it in his pack.  

"I'll find her," he presumes, dashing off out the door after the retreated Spoiler to seek her shellshocked self.

----------


## Molan

Damien's dagger flies home and, despite the fleeing ghost's incorporeal form, the magic blade lands in it's back, causing a huge rent in it's shivering figure. The ghost screams in agony -- it appears "wounded", as much as it can be under the circumstances.

----------


## JbeJ275

No longer in quite as much danger as she was, but still Ill prepared to chase down a ghost Barbara makes an effort to search the room Spoiler had entered previously, hoping to find some clue as to why the ghost had chosen that room in particular to haunt.

Search: (1d20+14)[*32*]

----------


## Molan

> No longer in quite as much danger as she was, but still Ill prepared to chase down a ghost Barbara makes an effort to search the room Spoiler had entered previously, hoping to find some clue as to why the ghost had chosen that room in particular to haunt.
> 
> Search: [roll0]


It took a while, but eventually Oracle found the large iron boxes that had originally caught Spoiler's eye, and with a fair bit of effort, managed to move them to the side, revealing some of the space behind them. There she found a dessicated corpse, mostly a skeleton, huddled up behind the crates in the fetal position. Further inspect found a few remaining dusty, rusted and broken items on the body -- a coin purse full of 200 cp and 75 sp, a knife, worn and decaying commoner's clothing, a thief's kit, and a small metal key, gripped in one hand, topped with a skull. Several vials are located nearby, which looked like they might have once been potions...but the long-dead body had appeared to have drank them, perhaps out of desperation.

----------


## Feathersnow

The magically enlarged woman secures her poleaxe and awkwardly,  slowly, crawls out of the room.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara winces as she sees the body, while she can't say this thief would her favouriate person around right now, having stabbed her moments ago no one deserves to go out like this, much less be trapped there for years afterwards. Taking the key, but leaving the rest of the items at least for the moment she called out to the others in the vualt.


"Hey!! Ummm... do any of you guys know how to lay a dead body to rest? I think we might need to do that. Or at least get it out of here."

----------


## JoyWonderLove

The terror had finally started to fade once Spoiler was outside again, away from that which was an endlessly hateful, cruel, twisted soul. The crickets creaked and chirped their odd start stop serenade to the forest, the subtle hum of an area safe. 
Bats squeaked and screeched reliably beneath the spread of diamonds carelessly scattered across the clear night sky like a hustle gone wrong, and an owl hooted from somewhere beyond the oak treeline a good twenty paces off to her right. Life. The simple con artist was surrounded by uncompromising life again, and even as her heart slowed and gasping for comforting air faded, the shuddering started. _She would never have let go. Not until I starved. Wanted everyone to stay and suffer. If Barbara didn't free me..._ 

Spoiler endured another round of shakes between taking in mouthfuls of air. whipped away drying tears with the back of her gloves, finding the material coarser than she remembered. Despite the Gothic city beckoning in the distance, she knew she had to go back down. Oracle was still in there. Batwoman as well. Her burning lunges would little allow her to sprint back to their side immediately, nor did she truly care to, but whether either of them wanted her back after that themselves, whether either would ever forgive it, that was all the more reason not to leave them down there. They were the closest thing to a crew she had that wasn't entirely steeped in criminality or desperation, and they had both risked their lives for her in two days near as many times her parents had in her lifetime. She couldn't abandon them. That was exactly what rotted the soul of the same woman that took her hostage, to make it all worse.

The undisguised patter of quiet, small steps came from entirely the wrong direction and Spoiler tensed unbidden. Not from the direction of the forest as some innocent animal, but emerging out of the mouth of the tomb with seven ways in. Spoiler dropped her hand on Estanna's favourite weapon almost noncommittally, as though she still might not defend herself even if the boy were a predator too confident to hide it's approach. She turned her head reluctantly to the gi clad child. Her breathing still came in rough gulps through her mouth, and she suddenly felt a complete novice, running jobs beyond her credibility or understanding.

_Why wasn't he affected by that monstorsity? How?_

"You won. That's good." 

It took a moment for Spoiler to find her voice, and when she did, it was distant, and tired, but held a lucid certainty. There was no question hanging or implication unchecked. Damien was entirely too calm to be the newfound victim of possession, and too filled with the delusion of youthful immortality to avoid danger. That much was obvious. He would be in the crypt below were there still a fight to be found. The spirit was banished, however temporarily. But the little lordling had taken to being her mark poorly before, so what mercy could she expect for allowing complacency to overcome common sense now? For plain cowardice in the face of extreme danger? Few nobles in Gotham were capable of empathy, let alone prone to use it.

Spoiler turned around with all the enthusiasm of facing a hangman. She eyed the entrance behind the child with gloomy longing, then considered the unkind first obstacle in her way. Far too late to whip away all evidence of crying; both for the blind fear of the abyss that had started into her, as the grief of a life ended in a way she wouldn't wish on her own worse enemies. She wanted to ask Damien after Oracle's state, but doubted any answer at it wouldn't be venom filled. That any reply at all wasn't aiming at her neck. She straightened instead, a small deviant act. When she spoke again, she sounded no less tired, but a great deal more stubborn.

"Make your dumb taunts, claim your stuck up quips, but I'm not going away, Damien, and I'm not giving up. Too many families need this to happen. Even if I can't do all this without looking like some incompetent coward, I can still damn sure do it caring every step of the way."

*Spoiler*
Show

 Whatever the case obviously I re-enter and try to find Oracle/BW again. Let's get this Vault solved.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien stands a few feet away, eying Spoiler as she composes herself.  He anticipates the questions that she refuses to ask, and when she doesn't ask them, the child is left overprepared for a scenario that does not manifest, prolonging his silence.  But when she castigates him, lashing out like a cornered creature, he processes the resolve and bitterness she is marshalling and his prominent eyebrows crowd together in an expression of dense bewilderment.  He squints at her, moving slightly toward her and pausing to second guess the action; but then follows through; stepping swiftly into her zone, and hugging her around the waist.

It's not a particularly warm hug.  Honestly, it's not a particularly _good_ hug.  In truth, it's barely a hug by conventional definitions.  Damien dispenses the hug as a doctor at his wits end dispenses an experimental medicine or, even better, like a travelling scholar tries to ape the dances and sounds of an encountered tribe to attempt to curry favor.  It's an _anthropologist's_ hug.  It persists for exactly five seconds, before he releases and hops neatly back to a distance of five feet, one dark brow raised high and eyes keen as he measures the outcome of his sociological effort.  The gesture offered proves, at least, that he is attempting to connect with her at some level other than the scorn-casting one she had anticipated (and which he had previously showcased).  Perhaps that's worth something.

"She's alright.  And the Inquisitor rebuked the spirit, and it fled.  It might come back, but they're working on a longer solution in there."

Initially, he had thought to give her back the dagger and (admittedly) pontificate about how she ought to return it.  But giving her the weapon she was forced to use to stab a friend seems a little socially clumsy; so he hangs onto it for now.  Instead, he turns back toward the vault entrance, and produces his Rod of Ropes.  He snaps out the grappling hook, shoots it high to connect to the lip of the roof, and then glances back over his shoulder.

"And my taunts are _excellent._"

Then he's whizzing away, drawn toward the vault and into the air, detaching and retracting the rope partway to complete an entirely unnecessary somersault in the air and forward roll through the door to rejoin the other scene.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*A world above*=  

Spoilers eyebrows furrowed and she froze like a rabbit stuck in a snare when little arms closed about her waist. Too unsure this wasnt some half-elaborate hustle to tie together the unwanted hug of the morning into the failures of the night, Damien had already leapt back like a baby panther when she realized he was genuine. Her eyes started to well up again, but for sheer gratitude and relief. By the time he had explained that Oracle was still well and the spirit somehow sent fleeing, she had unhooked her mask to showcase a smile, fragile and small but heartfelt. 

Thank you, she croaked quietly. 

Then the boy was off, swinging with a grace and ease only accomplished through training and discipline. After a moment, Spoiler suspiciously started patting herself down to ensure everything was actually in place. All found, she allowed herself another smile, a stronger smile, before reattaching her mask, and trudging back into the final Vault, and down into the chambers. 

=*Down below*=  

Even in the Narrows...theres a saying. _A chest aint worth a coffin_. Its pretty common. But whatever horror stories you hear  you never actually think youll be the one to have to deal with it. One job or the other. 

Spoiler spoke haltingly, and went no further than the door frame of the leftmost room itself, only too aware the ghost had yet to be truly banished. She only stared over at where the iron boxes were. Whatever had drawn that banshee to this particular room, there were some things that simply didnt need to be seen by the living. The blonde planned on sleeping sometime this week. Reluctantly she considered Oracles gait and trousers, but for her relieve at a lack of limping or further bleeding, the blonde couldnt bring herself to fully meet the other womans eyes. The warning to go slow had been heard but brushed off. 

 I didnt catch her name. But I can tell ya it was a smash and grab gone wrong. They didnt plan anything. Just saw their mark, and moved. When the vault started to close up, thats when she found out just how much thiefs honour was worth. 

Finally a self-depreciating, bitter little smile was given to Barbara as she finally met her eyes.

Guess you could say shes in good company, huh? 

Spoiler wandered over to the centre of the room, shaking her head glacially, unsure how putting herself on the Thieves Guild most wanted and securing Vaults had become her life. It didn't help stop the drugs trade, or turn around the poverty burdened Narrows. _Im helping families in Gotham, at least. That counts. It means something to them, to Estanna. I dont know what, anymore, exactly. But something._ When even the inquisitor was silent on solutions to the trapped spirit, she guessed she would have to jury-rig one up for her fallen, hostile sister. _Sure, just chuck it unto the pile. I can't even get Raam out of the torture joint I helped toss him into. Should have finished it when I had the shot. At least he wouldn't suffer then._ 

Unhinging the crossbow, Spoiler shook her head again, and found a spot with line of sight on the next door. Doing what she could to find a place to hide, no attempt was made to see what lurked beyond the last door Azrael pointed out. She was done opening doors until she was out of there. 

*Spoiler: Molan*
Show


Ready whenever to shoot bad guys/relax in the background.

----------


## JbeJ275

Soon after Spoiler met her eyes, Barbara fliched away before replying. "Yeah, I guess. Look, don't worry about it. I do trust you and everything, but if I hadn't had that scroll or if the spirit had held on.... well it's not usually that direct but you're never the only one who's in danger of being hurt when you take a risk like going off on your own in here. Be more careful okay?"

Inside she was somewhat trown by what had just happened, on one hand obviouly Spoiler hadn't been the one to do that. But when the being that did wore her face and struck with her hand it wasn't gonna be easy to forget. It was also not a slight concern that she'd been overwhelmed so quietly in the short time they were seperated, she'd presumed Kate and Spoiler could be trusted to have her back mostly from what she'd divined of their thoughts but it was clear that might not be enough divinations on its own. 

With that in mind, and with the primitive divinations of the paladin in need of further confiration she approached the door the others had crowded around. 

"I'm just going to check on these rooms again, to give us some idea what they're facing. Maybe more if they happen to be intelligent.

Barbara wove the spell of Detect Thoughts once again, but was careful to take a long moment with the cone cast over Damien and Spoiler first, just to make sure the ghost had not possesed either of them as they re-entered, and being prudent enough to check for other trecherous intentions while she did so. Then she swung the same magic over the rest of the unopened rooms.

----------


## JbeJ275

Once shes taken in the results of her casting shell also move over to the body. She seems unsettled by the whole idea, but little was ever done without trying something, and if the gloat returned well that didnt bear thinking about. 

Thus she emptied out one of the larger chests, and placed the body inside before taking said body outside m, in a remote spot where its unlikely to be disturbed before they can take care of it properly. Hoping to calm the spirits fears of being trapped she recites a short blessing over it.

May you be trapped never again, but receive the mercy of Ayailla, and be free evermore to send your spirit into the sky above and the light beyond.

This rather short and direct blessing done, Barabar cracks the container lid just a crack to let and spirits within out, then returns to the group.

----------


## Molan

Barbara cast her spell and calmly began scanning the vault as information began to pour in. As she did so, Azreal recast his Detect Evil prayer, and the two began assessing their surroundings.

*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts*
Show

The first round revealed the presence of thoughts behind the door.

The second revealed how intelligent each creature was; Spoiler was whip-smart (16), but she found three average/sub average intellects behind the door -- 9, 10 and 10. One figure, however, at the very edge of the spell's range, was vastly smarter than all of them (20).

Finally, thoughts began to flow in.

Oracle was disappointed to find no returns from Damien. She couldn't be tell if he was uniquely warded against her spell or if his mind was considerably more powerful than she'd expected. Either way, the young "Wayne" remained a mystery. 

Spoiler however was an open book. Her mind was devastated, even shattered, and wracked with trauma. Getting caught out by the Ghost had been scary enough, but getting possessed had been an actual nightmare, and Spoiler was still obsessing over the horrific sequence of events, the feeling of having her body hijacked by a spirit that malevolent and twisted. Worse still, she was wracked with guilt, fear, shame, and self recrimination.

She'd been too cocky after the ladies' successful battle at the Docks the night before, and she'd been extremely pleased with the work that she'd done out on the streets in the interim. She'd begun to expect that the Vaults mission was going to be a cakewalk, and her overconfidence cost her. She felt mortified and sick over having stabbed Barbara in the back, and hated herself for running away near the end of the encounter. She was genuinely warming up to their crew, though. Save Azreal, her opinion of Barbara, Kate and even Damien was currently very high.

Behind the door, things seemed more ominous. It was clear that the three regular intellects and the smarter one were not friends. The smart one was feeling chagrinned at being caught, urgent about escaping and concerned that his mission to help his friend might fail.

The three regular minds were all wondering if and when their boss would order them to kill the smart one, and their greed was intense; they were constantly musing about what other kinds of powerful valuables they could clear out of the vault.

----------


## JbeJ275

As information began flowing in from the spell barbara pursed her lips in focus and deliberation. Then she began to speak.

"OK, it's intelligent beings behind that door and criminals too, likely humanoids but hard to know for certain. I don't know how or when they got in but they're holding someone there. Probably a wizard from the guild, maybe the one who left a way in here open but not the one who got the others in... or at least not honestly. He got caught there. The others seem like basic thugs but they're working for a boss who's on site as well... or at least he's actively communicating with them.

Everyone get in position." She continued, edging her way around the door to face it openly. "We can breach it now and I'll blind everyone I can on the otherside, or we can try and sneak a little nearer to be in the best position to spring an ambush, right now they're about sixty feet away so if you can't cover it before they get their heads up ... on the other hand while I'm not getting anyone on guard duty they could well be facing the door, or have others on guard duty further out. Spoiler, what's your read on this?"

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate readies her shield and amorpha. "I'm not going anywhere very fast,  but I leave the call to you"

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

I believe we're just waiting on a response from Joy, correct?

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien returns from the side room, having discovered the ladder, in time to hear Barbara's tactical rundown of the other side of the door.  Once all their allies are in quiet earshot, he draws in a breath through his nose as he looks over them - a thoughtful, generalissimo's sense of measured judgement in the gesture - and then begins commanding again, as if he's in a position to command, even cutting in before Spoiler has a chance to respond.

"We ought not engage with them on open terms when we can force them into ours.  There's a ladder back there that leads up to the mezzanine.  Spoiler and I will sneak in and take the high ground.  We'll try to separate them and bait one or more of them close enough to the door that Batwoman and Azrael can rush them." He looks to Kate and Azrael in turn, lifting fore and middle finger in a loose fork and a swirling back-and-forth indication of each of them personally.  "You'll have to wait on Batgirl to call it, since she's the one with the magic that reads intelligent presence at distance through walls.  There's a side door in the mimic room that looks like it opens into the main hall too.  Batgirl, engage from this doorway and, if they come at you, fall back and loop around to that one.  If it's all the same to you, I intent us to leave here upright, and you've already bled enough today.  If the spell lapses or it seems like we're in trouble, use your judgement; but barring calamity, we should be able to rope them into combat with our duelists and give the precisionists freedom to operate to maximum effect."  He pauses only to throw back another potion - this one a small, square flask of silver fluid - and slips the empty bottle back into his pack over his shoulder with onehanded ease.

*"Let's go."*

Then he's off, moving towards the ladder - swifter than before, swift enough to keep up with the grown-ups - apparently expecting that to be the sum total discussion on the matter.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Damien blathers self importantly but with a not-too-bad plan, drinks a potion of Longstrider, and runs off to sneaky-climb-hide-move-silently.  Take tens at 27 Hide and 25 Move Silently!

----------


## JoyWonderLove

The brooding Spoiler answered Oracle with a glassy eyed look, like an exhausted student wholly unprepared for the teachers test. It was an intended kindness, the con artist realized dimly, that Barbara even asked her opinion; especially after the betrayal. But the slight head shake admitted she simply wasnt in a place to evaluate anything. She only wanted to do whatever was yet necessary, and get out. Damien thankfully talked over her after; the one time she might ever be grateful for it. His plan was aggressive but decisive. She openly tried to read the only one among them who had actual military training and experience, but the matte red and black steel and sigils hid all tells.  

Unless Batwoman or Oracle see a flaw... Spoiler hedged hesitantly as she trailed off, not overly concerned with the inquisitor that was nowhere to be seen when she had stared down the banshee. She then leapt atop the barrel before her with a grunted effort, and hopped down again to pad quietly after their self-appointed little commando officer. 

*Spoiler: Actions, Take 10s.*
Show


Follow Damien, obviously, crossbow as current weapon.

Take 10 Hide and Move Silently. *25* each!



*Spoiler: MrAbdiel*
Show


Is this mild prep for Damien potentially becoming a Dread Commando? Or am I reading too much into this?

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara shoots a concerned look at Spoiler, but doesnt let it linger. Instead she nods to Damien and begins considering the locations of the thoughts on the other side of the wall, getting ready to go if one of them seems to be getting within 30ft or if thoughts reveal theyre about to do something drastic. She also draws a thin metal knife, shaped with ornamental bat wings from her component pouch and redoes herself to cash Cloud of Knives should one of the thugs start heading in their direction.

----------


## Molan

Damien and Spoiler cut through the fourth door and into the storage room beyond, finding the ladder and moving silently up to the mezzanine level on the second floor.

When they reached it, they were able to see into the chamber beyond, illuminating what had been hidden behind the third door. There were two large openings in the second floor; one near the rear of the vault, and one directly over the center. Above them, fiendish gargoyle-headed metal pillars held up the third floor mezzanine, and the moon showed brightly down through the skylight beyond it. The second floor was packed with arcana just like all of the times before, but they had relatively open sight lines from where they were perched. 

In the center most opening, they could see the same large stone stair structure at the center of every vault was here as well. Two large broad stone staircases, one facing South and one facing North, occupied the middle of the room, ascending to a stone plinth in the center before branching into two new, east-west stairways that ascended up to the second floor where Spoiler and Damien now lurked. The ornate design seemed intended for workers to move large amounts of items up and down through the Vaults, but it served a secondary effect of breaking up the room on the first floor and blocking line of sight between the north and south halves of the room.

The large piles of boxes filling up the space helped enhance that effect.

The center area around the great stair was mostly empty and vacant. As a result, when Spoiler and Damien observed Azreal push open the door to the central room, no one else noticed him enter. Oracle followed closely behind, and Batwoman, still enlarged from her spell, crawled in after them.

The second opening in the 2nd floor showed the back half of the room. In previous vaults, this was a completely separate chamber, but the design of each vault was oh-so-slightly different, and here the north wall has apparently been removed, creating one great, long Hall of a room. It was through that second opening that Damien spotted trouble.

He gestures rapidly for Spoiler to join him to watch, even as their comrades slowly entered and began advancing below and behind them.

At the far north end of the hall, a gathering had assembled in front of a second staircase, this one a grand ramp with stairs stretching out left and right, leading up to the 2nd floor. Behind the staircase was a great arching stained glass window, looking out on the city beyond. At the base of the staircase was an assembly of more than half a dozen armed men, standing in a very loose ring around two central objects. One of those objects was a stark white crate, which had been ripped open, and hay and white linen splayed out of it where the thugs had removed the packaging to observe the box's contents. 

Inside, half obscured, looks like the cover of a golden book, it's surface carved with geometric patterns.

The second "object" in the middle of the gathering is Sir Alfred Pennyworth. He's on his knees, and his heavy, magical repeating crossbow is sitting on the ground just in front of him. He's clearly been cornered and captured.

The thugs look a lot more dangerous than any the party had encountered on the Merchant's Guild Docks. They're all extremely heavily armed and wearing armor as light as studded leather and as heavy as half plate, with an assortment in between. They're packing axes, swords, hammers and even a heavy flail. Most curious though is what they're holding in their hands. All but one are carrying heavy crossbows with steel limbs, and each one is loaded with a strange looking bolt. The bolts are like a regular crossbow round until the shaft reaches the head, where it's broken by what looks like a vial of glass filled with some sort of liquid. The liquid on each thug's loaded round is different, but each had a steel tip on the other end of the vial. They have bolt quivers on their hips, and half of the fletching in the quivers us black, while the other half are fletched bolts of various colors. The colors seem somewhat random.

What truly stands out though is the way the thugs' clothes and armor are painted. Each and every one of them have painted half of their armor, clothes, hoods, helms and the like black, so that one half of their body is almost completely black. The other half they appear to have painted whatever color they preferred -- one is half white, another gray, then blue,  red, purple, ect. Anyone who's spent enough time in Gotham would recognize the bifurcated, bichrome look as a kind of gang affiliation.

Standing near the box, looking down on Alfred, was a...unique...looking trio. Standing behind the man who was clearly the leader, was a pair of women, each bearing a holy symbol draped around their necks. The woman to his left (party's right) had a platinum cross of St. Cuthbert draped around her neck on a silver chain, and she was covered in elegant white cleric's robes that have been cut to look a bit more evocative than most priests of St. Cuthbert would normally sport. She also had completely Stark white hair falling around her shoulders and dazzling blue eyes.

The second woman was nearly the complete opposite. Her symbol was an ebony icon of Wee-Jas, drapes on a black iron chain, and her own scandalous robes were black, and her eyes were a deep violet.

While the thugs' attention was on Alfred or their surroundings, the two women only had eyes for the figure standing in between them -- plainly the leader of the crew. His appearance was shocking enough that even Damien nearly gasped.

The right half of his body (party's left) was completely normal, if not regal and sacrosanct. He wore beautiful white brigandine studded with polished steel and had a silvered colored bracer with angelic wings carved into it, ending in a closed fist. He carried a strange looking rod or scepter on his right hip, also silver. His face (on the right side) was incredibly handsome; a piercing blue eye, a shock of smooth blonde hair, a chiseled jawline. 

But the left half of his body was all wrong. The brigandine suit was burnt black; his left bracer was also black but was carved with hellish imagery of demons and hellfire, he carried a black mace topped with a howling skull.

All that might not have been so terrible, if it wasn't for his face. The left half of his face looked like it belonged to a zombie or another kind of animated corpse. It was charred, ruined, and rotting looking. Bone showed through at places, and far, far too much of his eyeball was showing in it's socket. His lips had been burned or peeled away revealing all of his teeth, running back through his mouth. When he spoke, Damien and Spoiler could see his tongue and mouth muscles move inside his face. His voice sounded like a strange mix of grinding bone and smooth, confident baritone. 

"*Be honest with us Pennyworth, did Fox put you up to this, or was it that brat you work for?*"

"*That 'brat' is your rightful liege lord, Lord Dent.*"

The scarred man laughed.

"*Liege Lord, grow up Pennyworth.*" he scoffed. "*You act like that actually means something. Now stop stalling and answer our question. Who sent you after the book?*"

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make spot checks, reroll initiative in advance. Sorry for asking but I lost the order lol.

Barbara's Detect Thoughts spell reveals more of the same from the thugs as the spells radius catches the rest of the assembled group. Alfred's mind remains a steel trap, as does the "Boss's".

As of right now, Oracle, Kate and Azreal are hidden from sight due to all of the obstructions in the room and no one has passed a listen check to notice them -- yet.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien drinks in the scene from their hiding position, lip curling, eyes glaring, with the pure, miniaturized contempt of an agitated chihuahua.  "The old fool's gotten himself caught... But he's going to be important in the fight to come.  But we can't initiate a fight with that firing squad right there.  You're the tricky one - if you can draw their attention in a way that doesn't provoke the combat right away, get them to move to you over there..." He indicates the area infront of the visual blind where their allies are hiding, "Then the others can rush right in and deprive them of good shots with those weapons; maybe put a few down quickly.  I'll free Pennyworth, and before they realize it, we'll have them surrounded instead of the other way around.  They might even plead mercy."  With the combat coming, he takes a few additional seconds to produce a pair more shuriken, and slick them in the black grease poison he had done earlier - hidden from Spoiler the first time, in plain view now.

----------


## Molan

Down below, the scene continued to unfold.

"*Perhaps I wasn't after the book, Harvey. Perhaps I was just looking for you.*"

"*You've been holed up on that island doing the idiot princeling's bidding for years. What does Wayne want with the Codex?*"


"*What do you want with the Codex Dent? You're sitting in the middle of a treasure trove worth of riches and you sought out this book specifically? What could you and your little trolls possibly want with it?*"

The half-ghoul, half-angel man chuckled, his voice sounding both melodic and simultaneously carrying the low grumble of skulls rolling down a hill. 

"*You don't even know what this thing is, do you Pennyworth? There are some things in this world even a city full of wizards doesn't fully understand. We need the book for reasons that wouldn't occur to you. Don't worry. It'll be a lot more effective in our hands than on Fox's auction block.*"

"*Listen, Dent, you and I both know damn well that Fox would never sell the Codex. And you'll definitely never get it's worth on the black market. Moreover, it's a celestial text -- there's no conceivable way you can use it for crimes. Whatever you're planning -- it's not worth it.*"

"Lord Harvey Dent" chuckled, shaking his head. 

"*We're sure you're very concerned for our well being,*" as he spoke, the rest of his thugs and minions began laughing as well. "*But we're not going to waste time bickering with some Wayne toady until the Dark Knight finally shows up to cause more headaches. So what will your fate be, hmmm?*"

"*Well, I guess if you're asking, you should probably release me and send me back to suffer serving under an idiot princeling.*"

Dent laughed, but shook his head. He opened his clenched white fist, revealing a coin held in his palm. 

"*Nice try Pennyworth. We'll choose the same way we choose everything.*"

As he said that, his men started laughing again. Dent began to roll the coin around over his knuckles, smirking in anticipation.

*Spoiler: Barbara's Spot Results*
Show

The area to the left of thug's 1 and 2 is trapped; this is another magical trap, with very feint runes on the ground. There was another trap on the other side of the chamber but either Dent or one of his thugs appears to have disarmed it. The door to the right behind Thug 7 is open.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle indicates to the others she's with to remain silent, and quietly relays what she has gleaned of the situation regarding traps and the likely coming actions of their allies upstairs that could be divined from Spoiler's thoughts. She then waits for the pair upstairs to start moving into action then conjoures her _Cloud of Knives._

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Ignore me!  Shuffling to after the next post.*
Show

Damn!  Dent was gloating about what he was about to do with a heavy implication of lethality in it.  No time to break the group up at all; and short of superior supplies, not much that can be done about that.  The time has come for calculated risk.

"Scrap it; no time.  Cover me."

And then, with yet another unilateral tactical decision, he breaks off from her position and doubles back thirty feet so he's less likely to draw direct attention to her, producing the smooth black rod as he does, thumbing another button on the thing that produces hooks from both ends.  He settles in a position that, with a quick shoulder check, gives him a nice supply of heavy crates behind him and the distant staircase infront; then raises the rod up above his head, and depresses the button again.  At once, both ends fire away with their quiet mutual hisses, the one behind _Tnk!_ing off the wall behind the crates, the one infront sailing all the way across the room to do the same on the far wall, both ropes ceasing to spool after the impact; and with a third press of the button, the ropes retract and snag; the one behind hooking on the heavy-stacked goods, the one infront on the edge of the far stairs, and the rope between snaps taut at a downward slope, starting at about 15ft above the battlefield where Damien holds it, to about 5ft off the ground where it hooks the curl of the stairs.

*Spoiler: OOC: Time Two-Face Facts*
Show

I figure it's about this point that the goons might look up and see small ninja, and combat might begin!

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Grimacing at the situation below, Spoiler looked near unreadable when they boy applied black ink to his weapon. It was then she realized however absent Bruce was as a father, someone had to have stepped in to fill the gap. The suspicion came upon her that it was the old knight that had done the best he could, and lucidity clawed away at the inner demons. Her face set stubbornly for knowing she couldnt allow a child to witness the execution of his loved one. No one deserved that. 

_Leverage. We need leverage to save his life._

Right now, getting Pennyworth out is the only thing I count a win, okay? Not that idiots guide to Aasimars; not stopping the Vaults from getting ransacked. But theres only two easy ways for it, Damien. Snatch the book and force a trade is the first. Dent thinks Pennyworth precious; but counts the book priceless. The second is to bleed Dent so damn hard his cultists close rank, steal the book, and drag his ass with them. Either way, Im around to rain on Dent's day. She wiggled the hand crossbow playfully like a prop in a play, hiding the fear skulking heavy in her stomach at the thought of six heavily enchanted crossbows and three spellcasters all baying for her blood. All eyes up top.

_Estanna help me._

Meanwhile Lord Dent lead his cult of personality onwards, his two skanks hanging on his side raptly, all the lapdogs barking appreciatively, and the old knight patiently drawing out information and seconds. But now a coin was being rolled around the two faced creatures knuckles theatrically. She instantly knew this idiot must belong to Olidammara, and time shorter than she thought. 

Or we go night of the red knifes on their ass. Your loved one, your call.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damn!  Dent was gloating about what he was about to do with a heavy implication of lethality in it.  No time to break the group up at all; and short of superior supplies, not much that can be done about that.  The time has come for calculated risk.  The boy's eyes darted as Stephanie offered a very reasonable assessment.  Pennyworth had greater value than a magical tome, no matter how pricy it was.  This registered in his features visibly, like a shadow of uncertainty passing over a face too young to witness such scenes; but then his features harden again, some cruel calculus smothering the warmer sentiment clawing its way up for a breath.

"The book is paramount.  But Pennyworth will be instrumental in the brawl to follow.  We leave with both.  Cover me."

And then, with yet another unilateral tactical decision, he breaks off from her position and doubles back thirty feet so he's less likely to draw direct attention to her, producing the smooth black rod as he does, thumbing another button on the thing that produces hooks from both ends.  He settles in a position that, with a quick shoulder check, gives him a nice supply of heavy crates behind him and the distant staircase infront; then raises the rod up above his head, and depresses the button again.  At once, both ends fire away with their quiet mutual hisses, the one behind _Tnk!_ing off the wall behind the crates, the one infront sailing all the way across the room to do the same on the far wall, both ropes ceasing to spool after the impact; and with a third press of the button, the ropes retract and snag; the one behind hooking on the heavy-stacked goods, the one infront on the edge of the far stairs, and the rope between snaps taut at a downward slope, starting at about 15ft above the battlefield where Damien holds it, to about 5ft off the ground where it hooks the curl of the stairs.

*Spoiler: OOC: Time Two-Face Facts*
Show

I figure it's about this point that the goons might look up and see small ninja, and combat might begin!

----------


## Molan

The man in the center of the thugs flipped his coin; it danced and sparkled in the air, and for a moment, everyone's eyes followed it. It fell into Dent's open palm, and he looked down and smiled.

What followed was strange, even for a city like Gotham. A baleful vermilion glow they hadn't noticed was there shifted, from a faint outline on his burned side and a menacing sparkle in his eye, shifting over to his unburnt side. As the light passed from one side to the other, it morphed from a menacing purplish red to a blueish silver. Dent's right eye found a silvery twinkle and the right side of his body began to shimmer with a silvery halo.

Dent smiled.

"*Huh. Well would you look at that. Seems like this is your lucky night, Pennyworth.*"

As he spoke, Damien's grappling rope smacked into the wall behind and overhead of him. His smile vanished, and the thugs started.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: OOC: Slight retcon.*
Show

Due to a misunderstanding of some of the range values, the exact trajectory of the grapple has been changed; it's now tethered to a railing post near the main hole in the second floor, instead of the far stairs.


Time's up.  Damien wraps his hands around the middle section of the Rod of Ropes, and springs over the third floor railing; the rope remaining iron-straight as he slides down by his grip, swiveling in a full corkscrew revolution with the torque of his jump before emerging from the gloom like a black-clad cannonball, sailing knee first into the solar plexus of one of Dent's men...

*Spoiler: OOC Rolls!*
Show

Attack roll first! Technically it's a gauntlet strike, but... You know.  Cinema.  *Gauntlet Strike* - (1d20+9)[*24*].  Target is unaware, so is denied his Dex AC.  If Damien hits, it's *1 Damage plus (3d6)[11] Sudden strike damage.*
Additionally, a DC 15 Jump check to not take 1d6 lethal damage from falling on to hard ground, or 1d6 subdual if he manages to hit the target and therefore 'soft' ground.  *Jump DC 15* - (1d20+5)[*17*].  Will edit in the results of the action after rolls complete.

EDIT:  Should have been jump +10, but passed anyway!


Slamming into the henchman's chest, he pops backwards with three quarter backflip, landing in as menacing a crouch as a combatant of his stature can produce.

"But _your_ luck's just run out, Lord Dent."

----------


## Molan

Damien slammed into the thug beneath him, knocking the wind out of the goon and very nearly knocking him to his feet. The rest of the room reacted in shock to the sudden attack. Azreal ran out from behind the crates, falchion over his head, swinging down hard on another one of Dent's men. But the swing went wide, and the thug turned to face him. As all of this unfolded, Azreal's _detect evil_ spell past over Dent, and the backlash from his aura overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned, his falchion on the floor.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate looks at the coming melee and realizes a stragglers of the regular goons was still unaffected by the smoke and seeks to daze him.
*Spoiler: OoC*
Show

Psionic Daze cast as though with three power points.  Will save negates,  only affects enemies if 6HD or lower
(1d100)[*47*] need an 11

----------


## Molan

Psionic power bursts out from Kate's hulking form as she enters the visibility of the torches, stunning two of the thugs in front of her; crucially, including the one facing Azreal.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara followed quickly in Kate's wake running towards the point Damien landed on the thug, she takes a kneeling position on top of a stack of pallets and begins weaving her arcane formulations as a handful of ground mica becomes a dazzling array of glowing motes cascadig over Dent and the preistesses around him, this initial array is followed up by a flurry of two knives let off by the cloud, bat shaped wedges of conjured steel one flying towards the criminal boss, the other towards the dark robed priestess.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Dent and both Priestesses to make a DC 18 Will Save to avoid blinding and can no longer practically hide.

Barbara Knife for Dent: (1d20+11)[*15*] for (2d6+1)[*12*]
Bat Knife for Dark Priestess: (1d20-1)[*8*] for (1d6+1)[*5*]

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## Molan

> Barbara followed quickly in Kate's wake running towards the point Damien landed on the thug, she takes a kneeling position on top of a stack of pallets and begins weaving her arcane formulations as a handful of ground mica becomes a dazzling array of glowing motes cascadig over Dent and the preistesses around him, this initial array is followed up by a flurry of two knives let off by the cloud, bat shaped wedges of conjured steel one flying towards the criminal boss, the other towards the dark robed priestess.
> 
> *Spoiler: OOC*
> Show
> 
> 
> Dent and both Priestesses to make a DC 18 Will Save to avoid blinding and can no longer practically hide.
> 
> Barbara Knife for Dent: [roll0] for [roll1]
> Bat Knife for Dark Priestess: [roll2] for [roll3]


Barbara's knives fly through the air, but the one aiming at Dent bounces off his enchanted curiass, and the one flying for the Dark Priestess misses, clanging against the stone floor. And yet, as the Glitterdust spell takes effect, Dent and his two priestess attendants shriek as the magic washes over them, covering them in sparkling golden fragments. Both priestesses blink for a moment but manage to shake the worst effects of the spell off, but Dent clutches his eyes in apparent agony.

"*Damnit!*" he roars. "*I can't see!*"

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## JoyWonderLove

:Small Sigh:  lets just go

=*Surprise round*=  

Spoiler again appeared unreadable when the boy chose to gamble on gaining the book and keep his old man alive, but simply nodded. Dropping down quietly as Damien crept away from her and drew his automatic grappling hook device,  she aimed down at Lord Dent as he flicked the coin into the air. When it landed, the strange dance between auras made her pause, sickly purple scuffling with benevolent blue, and her mouth gapped when the Laughing Rogue god ruled to spare Pennyworths life. Ruled to save the surrogate dads life when it appeared nothing else might in time.  

_Holy hell...she heard my prayer! Estanna rigged it!_

Spoiler hesitated, certain Damien would abort the plan, right as his knee rammed into one of the bodyguards stomachs. Sighing irritably, she immediately aimed not at the mercurial Lord. Spoiler fired. 

*Spoiler: combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (24)

1, Standard action attack Lord Dent. 

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*27*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*2*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*5*]


 

=*First round*=  

Damien darted to the old knight, a glittery flare exploded beside the two faced lord and his women, and the sounds of a tussle rammed up below. But Spoiler merely reloaded, aimed again at the two faced man again, and fired. 

*Spoiler: combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (24)

1, Move action reload the hand crossbow. 
2, Standard action attack Lord Dent.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*19*] (+9 normally, +1 with elevation)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*2*]
Sneak attack damage: (2d6)[*4*]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: extra sneak attack damage*
Show


My SA does 3d6 now due to leveling up, not the 2d6 in both rolls! Add these to the above please.

1st,  Extra sneak attack damage: (1d6)[*3*]
2nd, Extra sneak attack damage: (1d6)[*5*]

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## Molan

Spoilers bolts flew out of the shadows as the rest of the party attacked, each one embedding into Dent's torso. The bolts drove home, drawing blood even as Barbara's bounced off. He howled in pain, and his escorts reacted with alarm.

Grabbing her unholy symbol, the dark cleric began chanting, removing from her belt a small bag and a candle. As she began to move her hands, dark red fiendish runes began to appear in the air around her and at her feet a geometric pattern appeared, burning with hellish sigils.

Several holes opened in the ground, venting brimstone and hot smoke. Each vomited forth creatures resembling big, powerfully built dogs with short, rust red fur. Their markings, teeth and tongues were sooty black and they had red glowing eyes. They leapt forward as the burning holes behind them closed and the glowing runes from the priestess' spell faded away, and two of them rushed to crowed Azreal, biting him with their burning fangs. Azreal howled in pain; blood flowed from the wounds before the fires from the hellhounds' mouths cauterized them.

The third hellhound rushed Damien and snapped at him, but the little ninja managed to bounce back slightly, avoiding the bite just in time.

Across the room, the leftmost thug fired his crossbow at Kate. The round had a green-liquid-filled vial inside, and when it smacked against the wall over her shoulder it exploded in a splash. Smoke began to pour from the area where the round had impacted, and it became obvious that acid was burning through the stone where it'd struck.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's turn.

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## MrAbdiel

A fine ambush, but a net backward slide on the balance of combat; the battlefield had become more crowded with these infernal canines, not less!

On your feet, Pennyworth!

The boy commands again, as if he has some right to; as if Pennyworth had a better option now than to fight for his life.  Harassed by the devil-dog, the boys eyes scan the field swiftly, then he whips another pinch of powder to the ground and vanishes, leaving only a vague impression of himself in the scattering smoke.  Unseen, he dashes through the combatants, drawing the borrowed dagger as he goes and skidding to a halt with a flurry of hay disturbed by invisible feet, snatching up the book in his other hand.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Free action to ninja vanish.  Move to dash over to the book square, and drawer his weapon as he goes.  Move again to pick up the book.  Invisible until this time next turn!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate swings her heavy poleaxe at the nearby hellhound

*Spoiler: attack!*
Show


(1d20+8)[*12*] to hit

(3d6+6)[*17*] Damage

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## Molan

Kate's massive halberd swung down but the burning dog jumped out of the way, and the halberd's axe head smashed into the stone floor, sending chips of stone everywhere.

The dog that had bit at Damien looked confused when he disappeared, but then heard the smash of the halberd, and leapt after Kate. When it tried to bite her, it's fangs cracked against her armor, accomplishing nothing.

Still blind, Dent howled at his men. 

"*Kill them all! Grab the book!*"

He swept out his right hand, and a silvery blast of celestial power erupted from his palm, smashing harmlessly into some of the masonry.

Another thug fired at Kate, and this time, the bolt exploded in a burst of sound, but it still wound up striking one of the pillars nearby, rather than it's target.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's now Oracle's turn.

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## JbeJ275

"Pennyworth, get clear!"

Unable to delay or hinder the efforts of her enemies without also striking some of her allies Barbara instead focuses on bringing them down as swiftly as possible. Uttering an ancient and half forgotten phrase, Barabara feels her hand drawn up towards thier foes by magical guiding force, and at the same moment as her and Juluis release their knives she makes further gestures, unleashing a flurry of knives at a glob of acid towards the criminals.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


All have a critical range of 17-20, Dent is binded so denied his Dex Bonus and then he takes a further -2 penaty to AC.
Cloud of Knives on Dent: (1d20+11)[*16*] for (3d6+1)[*9*]
Acid Splash on Dent vs Touch AC: (1d20+5)[*24*] for (1d3)[*2*]+(2d6)[*8*]
Juluis on Spice: (1d20-1)[*15*] for (2d6+1)[*3*]

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## Molan

Oracle's acid and knife both struck Dent dead on, eliciting another howl of anger. He was a terrifyingly tough target, and yet even he was now plainly injured. Julius swept in from the rafters, tossing a knife at "Spice" but missed, as she narrowly ducked the angry, blade covered bat flitting above her.

"Sugar" began to chant, and blue radiant energy extended from her hands and onto Dent, clearly the worst of the _Glitterdust_ effect from his eyes. Another one of the thugs fired his crossbow, again targeting Kate, as she was the largest and scariest looking target in the room. This shot struck, or should have, but the psionic amorpha surrounding her shimmered and bubbled and the round fell astray somewhere across the room. 

Azreal finally managed to come to his senses, reached down to pick up his Falchion, then attempted to get back into the fight. In doing so, two of the hellhounds bit him again, nearly bringing him to his knees. He was horribly wounded at this point, and wouldn't hold out much longer. He swung wildly, holy energy coruscating off of his blade, but his injuries were too much, and the holy strike missed.

The thug to his left lashed out with his axe, and that final attack was enough. Azreal fell to the ground, bleeding badly.

Seeing their prey fall, one of the hell hounds chased after Kate, but couldn't pierce her armor.

In the middle of the melee, Alfred managed to get up, pick up his heavy crossbow, and fire it from the hip. Enchanted bolt exploded in fire in the fourth thug's torso, nearly ripping him apart. The man screamed in agony, dropping his torch and his crossbow in the process, nearly felled by a single strike.

One of the nearby hell hounds responded by wheeling and attempting to bite Alfred, but it missed. The old knight appeared a bit more nimble than he'd first seemed.

The sixth thug rushed towards where Damien had picked up the book, following Dent's orders to try to find it and swinging wildly. "Spice" cast another dark spell, aided by hellish powers, but she targeted Alfred this time, and her powers just seemed to wash over him without creating much of an effect at all.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Wow, big round.

Okie dokie, first off it's Damien's turn.

Thug 4 is very nearly down, Alfred tore him up. Azreal is at 0 HP and bleeding out. Thug 3 is injured by not nearly as badly as Thug 4. Two-Face is no longer blind, but he's taken a pretty massive amount of damage. Kate's straight face tanked more than 50 damage at this point and is still doing fine, lol. Damien's stealth is now wearing off.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien emerges from nothingness briefly, just long enough to be visible in Dent's clearing vision and the sixth thug's swing range, the boy ducking deep below a blind swipe with the heavy crossbow's frame.  The child offers a grin of juvenile sadism - book in one hand, oversized knife in the other - wiggles his eyebrows at the foes, then tosses the knife into the air long enough to whip another pinch of smoke powder at the ground.. and he's gone again, just a wisp of vanishing smoke where he was.

Hidden from vision again, with the warzone around him growing in intensity, Damien flattens himself to the ground to avoid inevitable reprisal blows from the taunted enemies, and takes a moment in his hidden state to slip the all important book into his backpack - the handy haversack doing its magic, whipping it away to a safe, weightless place that cannot be easily pilfered from, nor will slow down the relentless young scion.  With a hand free, he draws one of the three prepared shuriken from a fold of his gi and whips it at the thug looming over Azrael, before shuffling back to protect Pennyworth's flank, unseen.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Free action to spend another Ki to go invisible again - down to 2 out of 6!  Getting a little lean, out here.  Move action to stow the book in the haversack.  Attacks of opportunity avoided because he's invisible! :D  Damn it feels good to be a ninja.  Shuriken attack on thug 5. 
  5 ft step back away from two face, so Damien is now diagonal to thug 6 and 5, ready to make an opportunity attack on someone who tries a ranged attack or a coup de grace.

*ShurikenVsThug5* - (1d20+12)[*26*] for damage equalling (1d2)[*1*] + (3d6)[*10*] Sudden strike damage.  If it hits, he has to make a Constitution save at DC 13 or immediately fall unconscious for (2d6)[*11*] minutes.

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## JoyWonderLove

=*Second round*=  

From atop the second floor prone, Spoiler had the finest and worse overview of the entire battle. The boy scion winking in and out of existence around the book, the scream of a man that still made her shudder despite the lack of reaction meaning it couldnt have been the knight, the hailstorm of acid, bolts and knifes circling the bleeding criminal Lord. But only the crossbowman nearby him looked close to be begging Estanna for, so Spoiler pulled back the string, locked in another bolt, and changed target. It flew towards the injured crossbowman right before the newly healed eyes of the mob boss. He would now know who had been plugging him the whole time. 

*Spoiler: combat actions*
Show



Im guessing I can see everything in the giant red circle below me (Dent, S&S, T1, T6). 

HP: 24 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (24)

1, Move action reload the hand crossbow. 
2, Standard action attack the hopefully finished Thug 6 for once.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+9)[*11*] (+9 normally)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*3*]
Sneak attack damage: (3d6)[*12*]

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## Molan

Spoiler aimed and fired, but her shot went wide, sailing past Thug 6's head.

To her left, Thug 1 growled, and looked down at his bolt quiver, seemingly looking for a specific round. He found what he was looking for; a specific bolt, the only one in his quiver with orange fletching. When he drew it out, the glass vial ahead of the bolt head was a bit larger than the other vials, and rounder. He set his teeth, glaring at the party, and began to go about the task of reloading his weapon.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, hit point totals are all corrected (bad guys down, Kate back up), Thug 1 is reloading his crossbow. Sorry Spoiler no dice on that to hit roll. 

Kate's next.

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## Feathersnow

Kate swings again at the dog-thing!

*Spoiler: fight!*
Show

(1d20+7)[*10*]  to hit

(3d6+6)[*13*] damage

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## Molan

Kate's halberd ate air, and the thug near her swung his axe at her, scraping it's head across her armor and producing a fountain of sparks.

One of the hellhounds turned around, heading Dent's -- or perhaps it's summoner's -- will to find the _Codex_ and gagged for a moment before regurgitating a fountain of hellish flame over the area where the book had been, catching Alfred and -- invisibly -- Damien in the blast.

Looking furious, Dent uttered several incomprehensible words in celestial. As he did so, both of his eyes became rimmed in silver. Damien looked up from the flush of fire around him and a cold thrill ran down his spine, as Dent appeared to stare directly at him.

"*He's right there! He has the Codex!*" Dent pointed straight at Damien, and the entirety of his minions quickly began to look to see where he was. 

Watching closely, thug two withdrew a special round and began reloading his crossbow.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien, make a reflex save.

Barbara's up.

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## JbeJ275

"Kid! Pennyworth get out of there! Kate, might be time to grab Az and run for it!"

While desperately attempting to put together a combat stratergy Barabara was also moving to disable the threas direct in front of her, a wave of blinding, stunning motes of light and dust washed over in front of Kate and over the Paladin's bleeding form while pushed into a moment of desperation in the turning fight she sent Juluis forward to distract one of the thugs while she sent her knife at him, while Juluis' knife went back towards another one of the thugs. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


All the Hellhounds as well as thugs 3 and 5 have to make a DC 18 will save against the effects of colour spray. 

Barbara's Knife: (1d20+11)[*15*] for (2d6+1)[*11*] on thug 4
Bat Knife: (1d20-1)[*17*] for (1d6+1)[*5*] on thug 4 if he's still up or thug 2 if not.

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## Molan

Barbara's spell washed over the assembled thugs and hell hounds, knocking out both men and one of the infernal dogs, and blinding all three in the process.

Both Barbara and Julius hurled knives at the mortally wounded thug Alfred had shot; Barbara's went wide, but her bat familiar struck home, and the man collapsed onto the floor. Thug seven began reloading his crossbow, and "Sugar" summoned more celestial energy before sending a burst of bright hot light out at Kate's head. But much like most of the other shots that went Kate's way, this one also went wide.

As Azreal continued to bleed on the floor, the remaining hell hound jumped back from Kate and vomited it's own gout of flame towards Damien and Alfred. Alfred retaliated by rapidly unloading three arcane bolts from his heavily enchanted repeating crossbow, completely blowing the offending hell hound away.

The thug nearest Damien continued to swing his axe wildly, but failed to find purchase in the ninja's tiny body.

The black dressed priestess summoned her own magic, and a dark spell washed through the area, centered on Barbara, Kate, Damien, and Alfred, catching plenty of her own allies in the effect in the process.

******************************

As the spell went off, there was a loud crashing sound from the ceiling high above at the top of the vault. Glass poured down over the battle area from the shattered skylight, and a large dark figure began to descend from above. As the shadow's silhouette expanded, everyone in attendance could see the edges of what looked like bat wings beginning to appear.

This being Gotham, it was impossible not to think of the legendary Dark Knight as the figure fell towards the battle. At this point, it almost seemed like it would be disappointing if he _didn't_ show up.

But as the shadow fell closer to the light of the torches near the fight, it was clear that something was wrong. This figure was far larger than any mortal man, and as the light fell over it it became clear that the bat-wing outlines weren't from an elegantly designed cloak, but were from actual wings. 

The monster descended with an incredible crash near the periphery of the fight, coming down violently on thug seven, ramming foot-long claws and impossibly sharp fangs through his body before ripping him in two and swallowing one of his arms. Blood and viscera flew everywhere, and the creature announced it's arrival with a hellish scream, some strange cross between a roar and an agonized howl. It's skin was dark and gray like the grave, it had huge leathery wings that extended from long appendages at the end of it's wrists and attached to the sides of it's torso. 

It's eyes were angled and furious, filled with manic hunger, and it's face was pulled back into a rictus grin filled with far too many teeth. Whatever it was, it was bigger and more terrifying than anything had ever haunted Gotham before. The thugs around the monster all blanched and panicked, and pandemonium rapidly spread through the vault.

Having finished off it's first victim, the monster leapt forward, gutting the second thug in it's path.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Both thugs are down for 5 rounds, the dog is down for 6. More or less out of the fight at this stage. Damien, you need to make _two_ reflex saves.

Everyone in the effect (so everyone except Spoiler) needs to make a Will Save.

After all these saves, it's Damien's turn.

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## MrAbdiel

A child's scream of pain rings out from the empty space beside Pennyworth.  It's so unlike the person Damien works to present himself to be, his allies might be forgiven for fearing for a moment that some innocent had wandered into the crossfire to enhance the existing calamity.  The first blast of fire had been mild by comparison; it had only clipped him, singed the fabric of his gi, stung but not _hurt_, and he had stoically bulled through it without a sound to spoil his cover.  But the second jet of hellfire had caught him full in the right shoulder and bicep, the spasm of pain shaking through the warrior demeanour and briefly emancipating the child within long enough to do what children _do_ so instinctively when in pain.  The sound puts hooks into the sentiment of anyone with a ghost of paternal or maternal instinct, and twists it; and then the sound fades, just as it would otherwise be lost in the smashing, screaming bedlam that followed.

When the vanishing trick faded, the boy had regained control of himself again; reaching across his body with the dagger-filled hand to snatch the scorched and still flaming fabric of the other side, snaring it with two fingers and thumb spared from the knife grip, and tearing it away in dramatic flourish.  Upright, still; unbowed; but perceptive eyes would detect the paleness of shock in his skin everywhere beyond the angry red burns and blisters that reached from his right collarbone.  He spares a glance to the monstrosity... and, madly, is not terrified; his attention coming back to the hound bearing down on him, and his voice cast with just a faint quaver to the man beside him.

"Good shot, Pennywork; but do the next one on the _hop_ if you please."

The hound makes a move to seize on his now visible form, and with another snap of smoke, he is vanished once more, weaving past the baffled hound, slashing out as he passes it, over the dissolving corpse of another, and slipping sideways into the space between Barbara and Kate, cognizant not to be cleaned up by the whirling arcs of the knight's polearm.  It's a dangerous place - it groups them all up again, potentially drawing the area destruction powers from the battery of clerics behind; but the gambit is that Two-Face and his two offsiders, now the closest targets to the newly arrived monstrous combatant, will have the good sense to preserve themselves rather than die spitefully lobbing spells across the room.  It also places him close enough to Barbara to reach out and grab the vial of healing potion from her belt, and close enough to splash it into Azrael's open mouth - a fine plan, if he could get a break in the action to do so!

"Hold here," He hisses from empty space to the warrior women around him; "let the others extract under cover of chaos."

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Spending second-to-last Ki Point to go invisible as a *free action*.  *Attacking* with five points of Expertise on the hellhound threatening Damien and Pennyworth. (1d20+4)[*19*] for up to (1d4)[*1*] damage and (5d6)[*23*] sudden strike damage.  Not expecting it to hit, but it'll bump Damien's AC to 25 if Dent continues to direct his goons to shoot at him. * Move action* to go over to the space that seems highlighted by a yellow dot for some reason?  This puts him 5ft from Barb and Az, so next round, if all goes well, he can snatch a potion from Barb and medicate the paladin.  Barb could do it herself with a 5ft step, but I think this, if any time, might be the best time for that Web, so I'm planning for that!

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## Molan

Damien's blades landed home this time, embedding deep in the hell hound's eye and striking it's brain. The dog went down with a limp snarl, it's smoldering body promptly snuffing out.

Behind the dead beast, Spice's spell took effect, and Kate began babbling incoherently while Barbara looked with fury towards the dark cleric, a bloody rage in her eyes.

In the back, the first thug had finished reloading.

"*Bring it down!*" he roared. 

He fired his strange alchemical bolt, and this one bounced off of the monster's rippling torso but exploding just off the mark in a hellatious ball of angry flame. For a moment, it almost seemed like he'd done it, but as the blast receded the monster was still there, just slightly singed, and it released a terrifying gutteral roar from it's throat.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler's turn.

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## JoyWonderLove

=*Third round*=  

Oracle yelled the most sane idea Spoiler had heard since entering this tomb of a Vault about evacuating, before a hulking bat abomination crashed through the unbreakable skylight and started tearing through limbs as a butcher through corpses. Damiens scream below tore at her heartstrings, and she waited for the goliath of a man bat muscle-bound hybrid to steal attention from the tart in black. Spotting her moment, she rose up against her screaming impulses to stay small and unnoticed lest the monster have a learned hatred of anyone with a crossbow. A dagger exploded out of the shadows towards the woman in black that had caused her allies so much pain. 

Get yourselves out; Ill cover! Spoiler shouted, barely containing her own rising panic. 

*Spoiler: combat actions*
Show



HP: 24 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (20)

Bluff to distract/wait for the giant bat to distract for me: (1d20+15)[*22*]
Hide at my second floor position (relative to Wee Jas priestess): (1d20+15)[*23*]

1, Move action to stand up, losing my +4 AC against ranged, to draw fire and be ready to run. 
2, Standard action to throw my beloved dagger at the Wee Jas priestess instead.

Attack accuracy: (1d20+9)[*21*] (+9 normally)
Dagger damage: (1d4)[*3*]
Sneak attack damage: (3d6)[*10*]

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## Molan

Spoiler's life flew through the air with an unerring accuracy fueled by desperation, and sunk deep into Spice's torso. She howled in pain and clutched at the knife as blood poured over her hands.

Dent looked over the situation, his bugging, undead-ish eye still glaring in Damien's direction, but something about his demeanor seemed to change. He began chanting, and a pair of silvery wings erupted from his back. He turned and grabbed Sugar and Spice's hands and beat his angelic looking "wings", lurching off of the ground and taking both Priestesses with him.

While he flew, Thug 2 fired his own explosive crossbow bolt, and it cracked into the monster and exploded in another huge ball of fire. Ask the beast ripped through the firestorm, it seemed to occur to Thug 2 that his boss had just decided to take off on him. As he took in the scene with growing shock, Barbara, torn with confused rage from Spice's spell, fired a crossbow bolt at Spice's back, ripping open a new hole in the black priestesses' back. She screamed while Dent continued to fly away, and Sugar began chanting, before a shock of celestial magic burst from her hands, shattering the fortified stained crystal in front of Dent, opening the trio's escape.

Alfred seemed to notice the same apocalyptic outcome of the fight that Dent and his minions did, and ducked and started running south towards the exit. The monster leapt past him, dropping on Thug 2 as he screamed in vain, ripping him open just like the first two.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Damien's turn.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien snatches the healing potion from Barbs belt, and pours it frantically into the mouth of the fallen Azrael.  Doing so requires the child growling and straining to brace his boots on the skidded, slain hellhound and using his back to push the unconscious body of a flash-zonked henchman off the paladin's mauled person - no small feat for his small feet.  But with horror-howls in the air, he accomplishes this sufficiently to splash a little of the potion in the worst of the paladin's wounds and a good half in his mouth.   As he stirs, Damien is already doing what he should, at this point, be assumed to gravitate toward doing: giving commands those not explicitly under his command.

"Holy man, heal thyself!  The battle's not over, and we have to _leave!_"

----------


## Molan

Azreal coughs, spitting up blood, but the potion works, and he stops bleeding all over the floor. For a moment, at least, he's back in the game, but still badly hurt.

Thug 1's seen enough, and he turns tail to run out of the hall.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler's turn.

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## JoyWonderLove

=*Fourth round*=  

_Its barely even eating them. Its just hunting, and killing..._

The blood soaked wall of grey leather and rippling muscle lumbered under the balcony, and the creeping dread that it would explode up to hunt Spoiler mercifully proved false. She let go a breathe she had no idea she was holding, only to glimpse the bleeding witch in black being lifted to freedom with Estannas favourite weapon still lodged deep. The crossbow was barely in range, but the gang member turned away for concern of her new crew below. She dashed right nearly thirty feet to take a sharp left to sprint again. Stopping over where she roughly gauged all of her crew to be below, her confusion and worry over why the sound of heavy plate and lighter footfalls all rushing to the exit (besides this post taking forever) hadnt happened already threw words out of her mouth. 

If anyone has better ideas than running ahead of this thing and sealing it in, speak up! 

*Spoiler: combat actions  run 60 feet*
Show



HP: 21/21 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (20)

Double Move. Thirty feet right. Thirty feet down back the way we came. So sixty foot run to be on the same side as the group, but still on the second floor.

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## Molan

As Spoiler bolted around the second floor and towards the exits, Azreal finally found his feet. Leaving his falchion where it had fallen among the stunned enemies and corpses around him, he pressed his hands to his chest, sending a sudden burst of blue light through his body and further sealed up his brutal injuries. He looked over at Kate, still rendered magically incoherent, and sort of crouched, trying to find a way to grab into the spike-covered giant without impaling himself.

Alfred grabbed Barbara by the arm as he ran out; she continued to babble incoherently, and he quickly rushed her towards the door along with him. Meanwhile, the monster scraped and scratched it's claws through the stone of the floor as it barrelled after the thug who'd shot it. The man began screaming in pure abject terror, knowing the beast was after him.

Dent and his two female companions continued to ascend out of the shattered stained portal, disappearing into the night sky.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Damien's turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

With the paladin upright, Damien is once again a leaping, scrambling kinetic blur; up the crates nearby, springing to the railing of the stairs leading up to the platform and tumbling elegantly over it, wheeling around, charging up the stairs to almost run right into spoiler then, incredibly, planting his heel against the lip of the topmost step and springing backward into the air with uncanny explosive leaping ability, finally snatching onto the zipline he entered from, dangling there and sheathing the dagger so to grab the line with both hands.

"If it comes for you, use the Ghostblind!" he calls out, to no one specifically, but certainly to the blonde he glances back to, over his burned shoulder.

----------


## Molan

The surviving, still upright Thug rushed for the door nearest him, ripping it open and disappearing into the room to the west, the monster hot on his heels.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate takes a step back and uses urban strider,  then attempts a chin-up onto the second level, hoping to end up there when the spell runs out.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Fifth round*=  

Spoiler only watched with well-earned indifference as the horribly burnt little boy twisted and leapt and twirled his way to the second floor, with no rope or care for his angry red injuries. A simple nod answered the point about the potion. The oddly named Oracle in bat garb went from babbling incoherently to sprinting suddenly out past the reach of her knight, moments before the armoured knight, still the reassuring size of the monster, used the lower wall to merely pull herself upwards. Kate had also sounded to be making weird babbling noises earlier, and Spoiler saw the obvious foulplay finally explaining why they hadnt ran earlier. Then the knight immediately started to shrink back to a size that still stood taller than herself, but no longer as reassuring. 

Kates empty, gauntleted hand was grabbed. Unless you wanna go with Damien through the skylight, youre with me. Just, maybe disarm the weapon? 

With that, Spoiler went south, dragging Kate along if she wanted the guidance in her confused state. 

*Spoiler: combat actions  grab hand and move south*
Show



HP: 21/21 max. 
AC: 18. 20 with the Protection from evil. +4 against ranged attacks. (20)

Move action (if Feathersnow wants) to take Kates hand so I can drag her along. 
Move action south as far as we can go (30 feet is my max) towards an exit Im not clear whats up here.

----------


## Molan

Kate, Azreal and Barbara continued bolting for the exit of the Vault. The monster chased the fleeing Thug 1 through one of the western doors. It was hard to know what was going on in the other room, but the sounds of snarls, ripping and screaming didn't instill a lot of confidence.

The stunned thugs and hellhound all began to blink as they came too, and it was clear their vision was coming back, but none of them could actually move.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn.

Kate rolled another 20 so she could just keep moving.

Spoiler should roll Search on her next turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien watches his allies - all of them - breaking away from the entanglement of the melee.  They had the book.  They had survived.  They could leave, and maybe even lock the vault and trap the beast - though with the enchanted glass roof and window smashed, that seemed unlikely.  He hit the third button on the Rod of Ropes, and dropped neatly to the floor as the device retracted its hooks and swiftly recoiled into the compact device.  He pivoted on his heel, but then hesitated.

Up to this point, the boy-warrior had shown little to no sign of compassion for their opponents.  His combat style was vicious, sneaky, and not merciful.  But in the other room, the sound of a man being eaten alive echoes into the main vault and manifested as flashes of bewilderment and confusion on the eyes of the slowly recovering criminals on the ground.

Criminals.  Or, from another perspective, people.  Would they, he, leave these men to be so brutally destroyed?  Dent had done so.  They had tried to kill his allies, nearly succeeded.  But still.  _Still_.

For a moment, helpless indecision fills the gunmetal grey eyes; looking to the men on the ground, and then back across the way to the retreating comrades to Azrael, still mustering himself for the retreat.  And then a foolish flash of one patriarch's influence wins out over another, and he pivots, and calls to the armoured warrior.
"Throw me the potion I gave you, and go!  I can save these two, but not you too!  Side door!"  Then he's vaulting over the railing and skidding to a halt in front of the recovering goons, fumbling for his own potion and trading his Rod of Ropes to hold in his teeth as he beckons for the other potion from the paladin with one hand.  "As for you two idiots, if you want to survive you'll keep your mouths shut and do what I say."

*Spoiler*
Show

Move action to reset the Rod of Ropes.  And then, in an inversion of his typical style, hes going to become extremely impressionable in a vulnerable moment, delaying an action to move towards the first ally that calls to him - either to help get the surviving thugs out of the death trap, or to join the flight and leave them to their meaty fate.  Second move action to move to the goons!

----------


## Molan

While Damien remained stuck with indecision, the screaming in the other room continued...until it abruptly stopped. Whatever'd happened in there, it was over.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Spoiler's turn.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Holding the armoured woman's hand still, Spoiler started looking over the area for an exit.

*Spoiler: search*
Show

 1d20+10

----------


## JoyWonderLove

One more time.....

*Spoiler: search*
Show

 [roll]1d20+10 [/roll]

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Ok this is why I don't post in the morning.....

*Spoiler: search*
Show

 (1d20+10)[*13*]

----------


## Molan

Azreal turned and tossed the potion back to Damien, before continuing to make good their retreat.

Spoiler scrambled, searching for one of the hidden passages out, but wasn't able to find the door. Instead, she found a hatch leading down to the main atrium. It wasn't as good, perhaps, as an exit, but in a pinch it'd do. She pulled on Kate's hand and she complied, but started babbling incoherently once again.

Azreal and Alfred moved all the way to the door, nearly, but not quite, exiting the building. In the far room where the man and the monster had disappeared Damien heard a loud shrieking roar before the beast started scratching it's way back out again. Damien couldn't see it re-enter the main hall because of the stairs in between them, but he could hear it.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Sixth round*=  

After Spoiler's relief burst up inside her for finding a hatch and Kate no longer babbling like a newborn, but instead noisily clanking her way down the ladder solo. The insanity for the evening was close to ending. Sliding down swiftly after the dame, the inquisitor himself only just made it into the room seconds later. Azrael, Sir knight, would you two take handhold duty for them? Im gonna start jamming locks behind us. Buy us ti... She paused beside the church mouthpiece only to glance through the doorway Damien directly standing in front of the two thugs from earlier and their hellish mongrel. A roaring shriek from the monster made her stare wide eyed in the high ceilinged room they left like a traumatized rabbit. The monster was nowhere in sight, but a whole body shudder was still inescapable. 

Spoiler gave a single shrill whistle over to the badly burned little boy immediately, and started doing a series of half-panicked pantomime. *Going to jam locks; slow monster. Any more this way?*

*Spoiler: combat actions  1st, move action, free action talk, bluff check to send complex message to Damien*
Show


Move to door beside Azrael, free action talk to room, then bluff to send a complex message to Damien. 

*HideBluff for complex message*: (1d20+15)[*21*]

----------


## MrAbdiel

His free hand snatched the potion out of the air, delaying any effort to thank Azrael due to the time constraint, and he set it on the chest of one thug, whose eyes were just now becoming clear enough to understand.  No time to explain anything.  He just had to hope they'd take it all on faith.
Hearing the creature's reentry into the room, his hands are a blur; dropping Azrael's potion on one thug's chest, drawing the identical vial from his gi and dropping that on the chest of the other.  He dropped the Rod into his hand from his teeth, and thumbed the second button to deploy the hooks of the grapnel.  "Drink these and run, they'll hide you sight, scent and sound.  Go."

There was just one remaining fly in the ointment - one beyond the monster, anyway.  The hellhound, a few feet away, was stirring and waking as well, ready to resume its command to hunt and kill him.  Looking over his shoulder towards the distant mortal threat, and back infront of him to the immediate, still deadly one, Damien toward the stirring hound by step and angled the rod toward the open skylight.

*Spoiler: Frantic Actions:*
Show

Never actually dropped the Rod, just cinematically held it in teeth.  Begin round with Rod in left hand, catch flying potion in right (Free).  Drop potion on Thug 3's chest. (Free).  Draw other potion.  (Move).  Change mode of rod of ropes (Move).  5ft step away from the monster.  :(

Next action is turn invisible, shoot grapnel, and grapnel upward.  But if I turn invisible now I'll be invisible FOR the retreat, and that's no good, so... Here's hoping the big bat can't move to see me, move TO me, and then attack all at once.  And here's hoping the hound either unsummons or gets up and does anything but crit my head off!

----------


## Molan

Kate, Alfred and Azreal bolted out of the front door of the Vault, and Spoiler quickly slid down the ladder and moved to the vault door. Her plan was simple; hop out, seal it from the outside, and with any luck, get the beast off of their tale.

Back in the main hall, Damien had finished placing his potions when he heard the telltale sound of claws scraping on stone behind him. As he turned to look over his shoulder, he could see the massive shadow of his pursuer appear from behind the northernmost staircase. The monster had almost slowed down, as if it was less ravenous and more curious to see what prey was left inside the building. It turned it's head slowly, and affixed Damien with a pair of massive, crimson eyes, nothing but hunger and malice encapsulated in it's iris-free orbs. It's entire face seemed permanently scrunched and warped to both be hideously glaring and grinning at the same time, and the eyes were practically framed by a rictus smile filled with rows and rows of speartip teeth.

The beast let out a bone rattling scream, the sound of rapacious hunger and a hundred people crying out in agony all at once, filtered through a larynx made of glass. The noise ripped through his little frame, and for a moment, it was almost all over.

Damien grit his teeth, and invoked the inner power of his _Ki,_ summoning forth the power of shadows that his mother had taught him to harness before he could walk. For the briefest of moments, he vanished from view, and his thumb pressed the button on his magical rod, suddenly zipping him up through the mezzanine levels of the Vault and out towards the broken skylight above.

From the atrium, Spoiler heard the scream, and rushed out the door, quickly grabbing the nearest piece of detritus (in this case, a large half burnt axle from a long ago destroyed and discarded wagon) and, with some effort, rammed it through the handle of the metal doors that led into the vault. Quickly turning around to see who else was there, Spoiler barked out to Azreal and Alfred.

*"Where's Oracle!? We need to reset the Void Seal!"* 

Azreal shook his head, and instead of replying, simply pointed. Barbara was already half a block away from them, and very much wrapped up in the ongoing throws of the _Confusion_ spell. 

*"We can't seal it yet anyway,"* said Alfred. "*Master Damien's still inside. We can't replace the seal until he's out.*"

*"Listen I don't want to lock him up either but we've got to do something!"*

While all of this went on, Damien's two new "friends" came to -- and so did the Hellhound next to them. It barked with a hellish yip and ran around them, rushing towards the Monster, while both men tossed down their Potions. Damien, pulling himself up out of the skylight, could look down even as his _Ki_ invisibility faded and see the seen unfold. The dog breathed a gout of flame, and the monster leapt forward, using it's leathery wings to hop through the air, biting the beat's head off. The two men, now under the effects of the potions, quickly turned tail and ran towards the front of the vault as fast as their legs would carry them.

*"Come on,"* Damien whispered. *"Come on come on come on...."*

The monster did not give either man chase.

Instead, it looked around, letting out another shrill sound, and seemed to spend a few moments searching, stalking, and sniffing, checking some of the dismembered corpses on the ground to see if it had missed something. It lingered for a long while over the white case where Damien had lifted the _Codex_. As he watched, the hairs began to stand up on the back of his neck, and he dashed away from the opening in the roof, quickly looking for a place to hide.

The tops of the vaults were dotted with large, metal, heavily oxidized statues of grim angels overlooking the city; they seemed spaced to as to cap each of the key support beams of the building. Damien found the closest one and dashed behind it. A few moments later, there was a crash and the monster blew out of the hole that it had created when it had first entered the building, sending more of the skylight flying in all directions. It let out an unbelievable shriek as it exited and Damien physically flinched and clenched his body, hoping against hope his gambit had worked. But the monster's wings kept flapping, and before long it had soared off into the night sky, barely visible in the moonlight.

Damien dared to reach around the angel statue to watch it depart, and as he did so, something caught his eye; he could see the still-flapping silvery wings that Dent sprouted to make his escape, not too far off in the distance. As a crow flew, he was making good time, but he wasn't physically much faster than he would have been on foot. He clearly still had both of his female attendants "in tow". Damien made a mental note, and slowly crept his way forward along the roof towards the front end of the Vault.



Down below, Barbara and Kate finally began to come down from the effects of the _Confusion_ spell. It'd left them both exhausted, disoriented and bewildered, and their pride had taken a beating to boot. Somewhere off to the side, out of sight, Spoiler heard the sound of a loud metal door being opened, and footsteps in the alleyway. She moved to investigate, her crossbow at the ready, but when she reached the ally, she didn't see anyone; only a pushed open metal door, one of the hidden exits of Vault 6. Stephanie pushed it closed and secured it, then moved back up to the main street to meet up with the rest of the party. Kate was standing a few feet apart from the rest of the crew, armored hands on her hips, and her head down, clearly frustrated and exhausted. Barbara had slumped down to lean against the vault itself, shaking her head. Alfred and Azreal stayed on guard, though the latter no longer had his sword about him, each of them looked up and down the street for trouble.

*"Okay, so not to be that gal, but are we gonna seal this thing or what?"* Stephanie pressed.

Alfred seemed to tense, frustration building.

*"Listen, young miss. I don't want to give the impression that I'm not grateful for your assistance back there, but in all sincerity..."*

Before the older knight could finish the thought, a slim, charcoal-smelling figure zipped down on a magical black rope from the top of the vault, dropping somewhat less-gracefully-than-usual into their midst.

*"Oh calm down, Pennyworth."* Damien snarked, trying poorly to mask his own pain and exaustion. *"Stupid seal probably won't work anyway now that the Vault's breached."*

Spoiler ignored the boy's dismissive comment and rushed over to Barbara.

*"Hey mate, I know you've got your bell rung. But we gotta lock this [email protected]%n thing back up."*

Barbara nodded, and slowly got to her feet, before walking up to the front of the Vault and completing the process to reseal it. As she did so, the "lights" that glowed from the interior of the vault reappeared in their front windows, and it seemed for a moment that their least pleasant stop of the night was finally, once again, off limits.

*"So...did it work?"* Stephanie asked.

Barbara shook her head.

*"Honestly, I'm not sure. It looks like it did. I have no idea how to test it."*

*"If it's all the same to everyone, I think it's probably fair to say that's now Lord Fox's problem,"* said Alfred, sounding relieved. *"Perhaps we should cut our losses and go track him down, yes?"*

No one said "yes", out loud, but a general grunt and nod of agreement went up through the party. Before they could leave, Spoiler held up her hand.

*"Hang on just a second there gramps. What the hell were you doing in that Vault in the first place? I though you and old Fox sent us to clear them out?"*

Alfred looked slightly abashed by the question.

*"Yes madam. Honestly, I have to extend a least a bit of thanks to you all. You actually helped me out of a bit of a tight spot there."*

*"Certainly. We're amazing. But why were you in a tight spot in the first place?"*

Alfred smiled, before sharing a somewhat knowing glance with Damien.

*"To be honest love, it was really all about that book, the Codex Sanctis Celestialis. I was -- am -- very much committed to finding it, and I was worried that I wasn't alone in that endeavor. With Fox ready to send you to the vaults, I had to cover as many bases as possible. I did honestly hope you'd come up with it, but if you didn't, I couldn't risk anyone else reaching the book first. As it happens, what with Lord Dent's untimely arrival, it seems that I was right."*

*But how did you get into the Vault at all?"* Barbara chimed in. *"They were all buttoned up with those Void Seals."*

*"Ah. Actually a clever bit of magic that. Unfortunately not exactly something I'm quite willing to admit to, if you'll beg pardon. I like you, honestly. You seem like good people."* His voice trailed off a bit as he looked over the group, resting on Azreal. *"But there's quite a lot at stake for the fate of this city, if you didn't notice. And trust is the most expensive commodity in all of Gotham."*

*"That cuts two ways."* Kate growled. *"Seems like you really needed our help, in there. You can't well expect help from people if they can't trust you."*

Alfred held up his hands, in a bit of defeat, or perhaps simply surrender.

*"You're right, of course. I didn't mean to offend. But I cannot stress enough how important this operation was. I won't pretend to surmise your motives; I know a bit about some of you, less of others. And I know most of you were here tonight simply because Lord Fox was paying you to be. But if there's any part of you that wants to help the people of Gotham, hopefully by now you've seen how important it is that my mission is completed."*

*"Yes but what mission, Sir Pennyworth? You're still not being forthright with us. Why did you need that book? And why was Dent after it?"*

*"Ah."* Alfred nodded. *"Fair question, only half of which I'll be able to answer satisfactorily. You see, I was frankly not expecting Lord Dent's appearance tonight. To that extent, I can't really tell you why he wanted the book."*

*"Fine."* said Spoiler. *"Then why do you want it?"*

"*Well it's quite simple, really."* Alfred smiled. *"To kill that beast you all met in there."*

**************************************************  ***


The party eventually made their way away from the vaults and the warehouses back to where they'd promised to meet Fox. They stayed on guard, if wearily, because it was still night in Gotham, and they were still out in fairly abandoned streets in the middle of the Fort Clinton Slums. But mercifully, they made it to their rendezvous unchallenged. As they walked, light began to kiss the sky over the city once again, slowly pushing away the evening's darkness, and with it, the worst of the city's lurking dangers. When they finally reached the meeting place, the scene before them was stunning.

Fox had assembled what looked like a small army. Most of the men assembled in the square were clearly local sellswords; a minority of them were wearing formal Merchant's Guild insignia. But there were what looked like nearly 200 troops assembled lining the area leading to Fox, where he waited with his lieutenants. Behind him, a huge swarm of peasants and day laborers had assembled and were milling about, ready to receive instructions. Running down Monroe Avenue was a huge line of wagons and carriages, all assembled for the trip to the Vaults. Fox smiled, opening his arms out wide. 

*"And our heroes have returned! I'm relieved to see you all back in one piece."*

Azreal stepped forward and cut him off with a raised hand.

"*"You're trafficking in some incredibly dangerous wares, Lord Fox."* he growled. *"You do not know what incredible peril your actions have unleashed."*

He stepped back and addressed the group.

*"I shall return to the Asylum. The Witch Hunters must know what I have seen here. I will return; the Inquisitors will have questions for you."* he turned to look at the rest of the party. *"For all of you."*

With that, he departed, strolling back towards the docks and the streets that would lead him to the Narrows. Fox watched him go before continuing.

*"Anyway, I cannot thank you enough. Payment and congratulations are in order. I take it the Vaults are clear and secured?"*

*"After a fashion. We got through the first five easily enough. But the sixth Vault is haunted. And broken. Lord Harvey Dent's men nearly killed us in there. Also...apparently all those bat monster rumors are true."*

*"Ah..."* Fox said slowly. *"I see. Well, that's unfortunate but it's not the end of the world, if we've got the other five. If the others are clear, I'll move our new friends here out to secure the area and the routes leading back to the Docklands. I've already got several platoons locking down a few key corners further east. I couldn't justify buying all this muscle before without knowing if we'd be able to move the merchandise, but thanks to your efforts, things around here are going to change."* he turned towards his lieutenant. *"Send Marcus' group to secure Vault 6. When I come by we'll lock it down and move the goods to the other vaults. We can probably get nearly half of these wares onto ships today given how many laborers showed up to collect some coin. We'll have room."*

The lieutenant nodded, and marched off to begin executing Fox's orders.

*"And Sir Pennyworth! Looks like you got a little scraped up last night too. I hope your errand was...successful?"*

As they spoke, mercenaries began to spread out and march down the street towards the warehouses, and others began directing trains of day laborers and wagons towards their tasks. Their little group was soon surrounded by a flurry of excited activity.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"The whole endeavour was fraught with disaster once with hit the sixth vault.  It's a miracle of divine providence and human desperation that we all escaped with life and limb.  And Azrael, for all his grumbling, was instrumental at two, maybe three points; despite nearly expiring on the floor in there.  Which reminds me; your men will find his falchion glittering on the floor in a halo of blood and sulphur, in the main warehouse of vault six.  I recommend you send it back to him.  You can have this back, too; though I admit.. it's a premium product."  His left hand flips out the borrowed dagger, and offers its hilt first to Fox - the weapon's journey from idle loot, to icon of treachery, to redeemed instrument of punishment to the dead and damned now wiped from its deadly blade.  "You have a great many interesting trinkets in your vaults, Fox.  They ought to furnish your project with quite the windfall, now that they're loosened up.  But if you find any unsmashed crossbows in the main combat area, as well as the magical crossbow bolts with them, and they turn out not to have been looted from your supply, I expect our group's shooters would appreciate the respect of Right of Spoils over them.  Beyond those, and Azrael's sword, I don't think we left anything behind that we have any right to."

This is all very business like, and he turns then, standing beside fox and Pennyworth, to look over Oracle, Spoiler and Batwoman.  The positioning is as transparently condescending as it seems subtly unconscious.  But as the gunmetal eyes glance over the women in lofty approval, it's impossible to hide the red, blistered truth of his right side; stripes of incinerated cloth stuck to the flesh, the right arm curled gently to his side to protect itself, shaking slightly in the containment of its own infirmity, betraying his demeanor.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Spoiler watched the inquisitor march off with a weary joy, before folding her arms thoughtfully. _Vault six, Witch Hunters, the Narrows...and they say Estanna isnt a rogue._ Her stance stayed solid when the little lord returned in full, standing side by side with the old lord and greying knight, all empty gravitas and unnecessary pomp. At least his summary was good. It would have been the easiest thing to shatter the illusion; one left hand, offered seemingly in the innocent spirit of camaraderie, to shake the hands of Fox, the knight, and finally end it with Damien. But what good would it serve Gotham, let alone the child smothered under those graces? They were done.

_Its over. Fox is on his feet, Damien goes back to his castle, Im still in the Narrows. Kate and Barb will stick around, though...we all have the same Velnire shaped problem._ 

Sorry, sir Lord Fox? Spoiler interjected tiredly as she thought through what to say. Lord Damien hit all the high notes in the summary, and we all got as shaken up down there as it sounds. Sixth Vault easily made up for the other five. Your poltergeist wore me like a sock puppet, and Oracle got the worst for it. It took the same force of will that had failed her hours ago, but she managed not to shudder, if avoiding looking over at Barbara in that instant. Do you mind having any healing staff on duty checking us out? As much as I know nobles go first, I can wait.

Spoiler had no other excuse to have the little boy looked after immediately, while preserving whatever that unflattering pride was, but her real work opportunities were only just beginning.  The flurry of merchants and mercenaries aplenty around them showed Foxs Guild would have no more need of them, and five vaults filled with hundreds of thousands of gold worthy items each, minimum, was more than needed to supply numerous families with uplifting opportunities. 

While I do, I admit Ill likely sleep off the next...three days or so. But Ive met a ton of people in Fort Clinton alone that would gladly take up a job they can feel proud of. Id be glad to nudge a few with some details. What opportunities do you have for volunteers? How many jobs are available in a normal platoon now? Do the people in that Marcus group get paid extra for being specialists, or are they really your bog standard sell swords, so they dont get special rates? Easier to get you the best people, if I know what those opportunities involve. 

*Spoiler: Im not taking ten on anything*
Show



And certainly not on any kind of Bluff to learn merchant things, especially details on that Marcus group guarding Vault 6. Everything said probably sounds highly believable, which would give the not-bluff a boost. All Im considering is lawful and has nothing to do with potential Downtime actions, Molan. After all, sleep for 3 days and all.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien adds nothing to the request for healing aid - though some healing salve would be extremely welcome right now, the very construction of his humanity means he is unable to ask for it directly.  When Spoiler mentions sleeping for _three days_, he blinks, eyes darting, with a flicker of astonished abandonment in his features before that is paved over in iniquitous Gotham stoicism.

"Among other things, we ought to get as little rest as we need and then take that charter I'm sure Lord Fox has arranged to South Channel Island.  There's a girl out there, hidden among the elves and the trees, captive of Lord Nigma's ego; and delivering her from captivity is a crucial step both to severing the puppet strings foisted onto Fox's people, and exposing publicly that parasite Nigma's madness."

But then his gaze tracks to Alfred.  "...But even something so important might have to wait, pending the immediate impact of our most recent literary acquisition."  Now surrounded by allies and protection, he reaches back over his shoulder into his haversack backpack, and plucks the Codex from its magical storage within.  It sags his wrist with its weight, the operation one handed, dispensed into the grip of the old knight.

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## Feathersnow

"Sadly, I must concur with Master Wayne.  My power reserves are barely touched, if we can secure healing magic,  we should go forth as quickly as possible.   Apart from... whatever that creature was, there are innocents to protect."

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## JbeJ275

"Do we even know where on the island that is? If we had a target to hit I could just visit the apothocary and buy some scrolls from the college to cover the gaps in my arsenal. but if we're going to be spending hours trackeing her down to a building resting might ensure we can do so quickly, and won't be too fatiuged when we do. South channel island is a big place after all and if we're not on top form we might just make things worse. Also, the men going to vault six should really know about the corpse in the box. Get aa priest or something there with them actually, it's the afermentioned ghost's body." 7

"And sir, say what you want about that monster but it's now beast. There's an intelligence in there, it's smarter than most people were in that vault, even if it seems to not engagee in the most complex tactics, I didn't have time for many other divinations though, what do you know about this creatures nature and origins anyway. From the involvement of the codex I'm guessing it's at least in part demonic?

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## Molan

Fox held up his hands to slow everyone down a bit. 

*"No worries, no worries at all friends. I've got more than a few surprises in store for you. First of all, I've got this wagon over here,"* he gestured to a large, luxurious (if aged and worn) wagon waiting on the other side of the street, *"the driver of which will take you back to the docks where we've got our medical office reopened. We'll get you fixed up and right as rain. Now that the Vaults are back open for business, we're going to be able to start reopening Merchants guild retail shops; I'll make sure you all can shop at a discount."*

He held the enchanted dagger in his hand, shaking it and feeling his weight. 

*"Do you all know what this is? It's a pretty interesting piece you managed to pick up. This knife is called Sudden Death, it was made by the Archmage Amora Tren at the behest of a rival noble well over a hundred years ago. It's got quite an ugly history. It passed hands between a lot of Gotham's most notorious assassins. Sounds like that hasn't changed much today."*

*"Was part of that history that one of the assassins killed Amora Tren with it?"*

*"No,"* Fox replied smiling. *"But ironically she was actually stabbed to death."*

Everyone sort of nodded slowly, and Fox chuckled and moved on.

*"Anyway, point is, there's an incredible amount of arcana you all have unleashed. Our vendors will have a ton of new hardware, potions and other tools for you to use. In addition, you're all owed some payment."*

They made their way over to the armored carriage that Fox was using to carry the guild's payroll, and he removed several bags from inside of it, handing one each to every member of the party. They opened the bags up, and Spoiler nearly gagged. Inside were _eight hundred_ platinum pieces.

*"I know it's quite a lot, but I can't underscore enough what a huge deal this is. You know, when the Waynes were still in power, they fought hard to keep power in this city diffuse and worked hard to make sure there was work for everyone. But the nobles in this town don't care about anything other than accumulating as much money and power as they can get their hands on. There hasn't been legitimate work in this part of midtown for a long, long time. Your actions today have really made a difference."*

As they continued to talk, Damien produced the Codex, and Alfred turned to address the party.

*"If you all are still interested in tracking that monster, I'm beginning to think we might just need your help."*

*"Are you beginning to think that because we just saved your bacon?"* Damien quipped.

*"Yes, actually, not to put too fine a point on it."* Alfred chuckled. *"Listen. It's of huge importance that we find a way to stop this monster. This book,"* he tapped his armored hand over the golden cover of the _Codex.=,_ *"Is the first piece of that puzzle. If there's any chance you might be interested, after you've visited Lord Fox's medics, I think I might have a better place for you all to sleep tonight than wherever you're currently holed up. And we might have a few resources that will help you on your missions."*

Damien's eyes narrowed.

*"Pennyworth, are you sure about this?"*

Alfred shrugged.

*"We're running out of options, young Master Wayne. We need help. And we can help these fine young adventurers too. I think it makes sense."*

*"What are you two going on about?"* Barbara challenged.

*"I'd like to offer you some upgraded lodgings, and perhaps a base of operations, in exchange for your help hunting this monster. And there's someone I think you should meet, someone who might just be able to help you on your quests."*

Damien grinned.

*"Any of you silly mooks interested in meeting Bruce Wayne?"*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara recieved the praise politely but stuffly, put off by a few things that were said but showing little of it, much of it of course was welcome, the availibility of arcane supllies was always an issue, and crafting took up valuble time and so she'd never ended up really learning how, building up a better more full arsenal of spell scrolls and wands was becoming a must do. Especially with the rather direct reminder of what happened to arcanists who tangled with the powerful when said arcanists were insufficiently prepared. The Eight hundred platinum pieces were a welcome change as well, initially she was unsure about this mercenary work, but such tresures would help her greatly, and the reminder she could still do good was welcome too. That said, whether justicars could no longer safely recruit from some areas or whether the local justicars were (probably rather fairly) no longer considered legitimate did sting a little.

Of course then Pennyworth and the kid, shot knowing looks at each other that immedietly put her on guard. One hand opening to ready for some spell before she remembered herself and pulled it back and just asked them verbaly, holding back her mistrust. Then of course, they had to bring that name up...

"Frankly I think I'm fine without, rich cowardly hedonists make great sponsors, as I assume that's what this is, but you can keep me out of the gladhandling side of things."

----------


## JoyWonderLove

South Channel Island...I cant believe I didnt pick up on that before. Thats perfect! A friend of mine is actually on a little hiatus there. All to relax and reconnect with her music. Shes normally got an ear for anything big going on nearby, and frankly, Ive been itching for an excuse to see her. We pop by, she drops some leads, Verenas out by nightfall. Easy. 

Spoiler had no pressing desire to explain that her friend was laying low due to Bard Guild racketeering, and the lapdogs in the law that enforced monopolies on their behalf. Let alone that it was rarely easy to find anyone avoiding the limelight, because she wasnt altogether certain Robyn had ignored the siren call of the crowd. The biggest appeal of the fey island was precisely that the average Gothamite didnt feel overly welcome there, so the usual predators had far less sway there. She might well have performed to her hearts yearning without being hassled once. 

*****

When Spoiler stared in the sack at solid platinum coins minted with the Gotham bank of Cobblepot symbol on them, she grew quiet in stupefied awe. A smile cracked beneath the already cracked mouth mask as Fox mentioned the Waynes and diffusion of power, and it exploded into a grin as he said something about making a difference. The knight started blabbing about that golden, chained up library book, but a laugh had already started to build louder and harder until she threw her head back in ecstatic abandon. She had instantly become the wealthiest woman in all the Narrows combined, and all her tiredness was banished with the massive windfall.

Yes! Oh, all of my sweet hearths in heaven, yes. _Dear loving Estanna_, yes. If _this_ is what goin legit feels like, I shouldve thrown in with the gold and grey _years_ ago! 

Hugging the bag of platinum freedom to her breast as a babe to a mother, Spoiler rocked it side to side with much the same loving enthusiasm. Sir Pennyworth and Damien were prattling about suicidal monster hunts and accommodations, but she only had eyes for her jingling sack of joy.  

First mommas gonna put you inna bank! Spoiler kissed the bag sweetly. Den _youre_ gonna make _momma_ some bank! Yez you are, my lil pumpkin pie. Oh, were gonna help so many people, sweetie. 

Looking over at the knight but clutching the bag tighter now lest anyone get idiotic ideas that would cost them a spleen, Spoiler heard the full end of the conversation between the knight and scion sound similar enough to its beginning. She winched when Oracle laid into Bruce all too honestly before the same son that had proven himself remarkably brave and even compassionate, but couldnt think of anything kind to soften the harshness. Everyone in Gotham knew it was true.

That thing we saw in the Vaults...its definitely a huge danger to Gotham. Id be happy to help you figure out weaknesses; maybe even track down its lair. But Im not about to sign up for anything else. We all saw how easily it went through Dents men, and they had firepower way above average. Itd take a small army to put the monster down permanently. Spoiler paused. Still, youre saying I get to meet an actual prince? The real guy thats supposed to be running all this? 

Spoiler didnt particularly like Bruce Wayne, the Gotham wide womanizing and drunken disappointment that he was. She hadnt even thought of him as true royalty until the words had fallen out of Dents mouth earlier, of all the people. But she already would never have to worry for food or shelter again in her entire life, with a few savvy investments, and would still have plenty left to help others. Beyond there being worse tales to tell, she might even secure a pardon for her fey friend. 

Robyns gonna absolutely flip. Im in.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien embarks on a tour of emotions that are displayed plainly on his face with all the high fidelity performance of a child who has only a focused technique, and not a lifetime of moderating memories, to normally mask them.   Bafflement first; then woundedness sliding into exasperation; and finally a sudden metamorphosis to a scowl of anger that hardens on his features so securely it seems to  deserve an audible snap.

How dare you! The response, a shout compressed by force down to a normal speaking volume, is boiling with wrath undercut as always by his prepubescence.  We just shed blood together - ours, and our enemies.  We saved Alfreds life, and he dragged you blinking and delusional out of the path of death back there, in case that slipped your memory.  And my _father_, he leans on the word emphatically, has sacrificed and given more of himself for this city than any man living or dead.  And you wont even honor him with a meeting?  What manner of foolish dilettante are you?  My father is not without flaws, but he did not raise a child to flatly insult someone elses with such bald knavery, as yours clearly has!

----------


## JbeJ275

"And for that, you have my respect, both of you." Says barbara through painfully gritten teeth. "But he doesn't have mine, and given how I hadn't heard of a Wayne scion until tonight for all of his lechery I'm not convinced you have his. She shouts back, immedietly going way too far, but not noticing in her anger.

"He seems to have good intentions and that makes him better than most nobles in this stinking city, but he's still a coward, in the best position to fight for this city at the top, in a better position than my.... URGGH."

With that Barbara storms off directly at the side of a building lining one side of the square, sack of platinum in hand, before weaving her hands and disappearing just as she made contact with it, a bat appearing her in her place. Most of the poeple in the square are then likely to hear an angry shriek, likely from a nearby rooftop, and the clattering sound of something being kicked in frustration.

----------


## MrAbdiel

The kid is already puffing up, preparing a reprisal before Oracle takes the last, frustration sheared word.  He looks like hes ready to go swinging after the bat, but then Titus is there, detecting his masters distress, bonking him in the back with the top of his skull before skittering in a tight confused circle, as if to say what?  What is it?  Who are we fighting?

Thats enough to bring the scion back from the edge of folly, and he gives the jowly beast a reassuring scratch.

Well.  One less plate at the table tonight then, Pennyworth.

----------


## Molan

*"Well, that's a shame."* Pennyworth lamented. *"Still, can't blame a lass for standing by her convictions. I'm glad to know that there are at least some other people besides ourselves on the streets of Gotham who hope to do some good. At any rate, you all must be tired. Shall we retire to Lord Fox's medical tent? It'll take a couple of days for the Guild to start getting everything running here in Fort Clinton. I can make sure you've got upgraded accommodations till then, besides which, we can decide our next moves. Madam, what say you? Will you be joining us?"*

He gestured towards Kate, looking for an indication to where she stood.

----------


## Feathersnow

"For me, whatever I may or may not know about Lord Wayne, we are blood, and what is more,  I am a chevaliesse and he is a prince.  It should go without saying I will at least meet with him.  Though I must confess I am unsure as to why he would share interest with ones such as us."

Frankly, Kate was sympathetic to Barbara 's position, and her respect for Master Wayne slipped at his apparently unfounded father-worship.  Buy she needed allies, and it was against her nature to be openly rude, an inclination cemented through years of military service.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

The sai had ended up in Spoilers right hand agitatedly, left clutching the sack to her breast defensively as the argument ensued, despite nothing for clear danger being nearby. Whatever hopeful look was given when Kate began was snatched soon after; no hard edged military wisdom calling for unity had come even after Oracle had disappeared up the rooftops. Batwoman simply was the loyal, tireless, little vassal. A tightening in her gut and the subtle tange of bitterness told her this was an ugly turn. Something valuable was in danger of being lost here, but she couldnt say exactly what, or even for who. Suddenly the sai had been replaced with the automatic grappling hook as she wandered away checking at the buttons of the fancy tool. Unsure how many button presses did what, she still pointed high at the building gargoyle besides and above where the angry shout had roughly come from. A sound utterly pleased slipped out when the rods claw grip lodged itself exactly where she intended on the statue far above; a hard shot even with a crossbow. 

Huh, so how do I  

Then Spoiler was yanked off her feet, heart racing and face squinting as the wind buffetted, and her body instinctively became as tense and slender as the teak rod coaxing her dutifully through the air. Faces below blurred and the stone gargoyles rushed closer, but all she felt was exultation as she was lifted, rising, soaring above all others. _Cape. I definitely need a cape,_ the thought floated through her head even as she cleared the rooftop she saw her target on, and had the mind to press the same little button again as its grip diligently let go, and she was suddenly weightless for only too short a time. Gently she arched up, before the rooftop proper came closer and closer to greet her. 

Meeting it by tucking herself into a little ball, Spoiler still bounced, swore and skittered a little to a stop with a soft groan, but bounded back up almost immediately with a triumphant laugh. She threw  off her cracked mask quickly after, revealing a face flushed and grinning like she just pulled off the heist of the year. She jogged over to the upset heiress with all the aplomb of finishing a victory lap. 

Okay, I got his rod, and we got our platinum! Stephanie held the fastened bag aloft in one hand, and the fancy stick in the other when she was closer to her friend. Night shift done, and now its all sunshine. Wanna go to Uptown, flash a little plat, and take a ton o joyrides in carriages we were never gonna buy anyway? Or throw on a buncha disguises and see how many morons in the Narrows Rogues and Thieves Guild we can get to buy us free drinks, before we lure em into ambushes? The rod was thrown up in the air and it twirled like a baton before the awaiting purple glove snatched it handily on its fall back. Hell, we can even talk how Brucey must be living the dream. Trotting out his own love child to scrap together enough coppers to cover whatever debts taking laps in Chardonnay has gotten him into. Whatdya feel like, Barb?

----------


## JbeJ275

At this point Barabara had dragged her own mask off as well, and is holding it crumpled in one hand as she looks out over the city, her mist steaming in the cold air around them. Her hands were dancing in the same intricate patterns accosiated with spellcasting, but the lack of any of the sigils accosiated with her regular casting showed this was just to calm herself not to produce any greater effect. She breathed heavily for a few more moments before turning to face Stephanie and clearly forcing herself into something like a grin.

"Sure Steph, that sounds great right now, actually if you want to come to my townhouse I have a Fries-er full of... I don't know if you'd have heard of it, ice cream? I could really go through a bowl or four of that right now." With that said, she started walking to the ledge of the roof, reaching to put her mask back on before pausing and speaking again. "Look... I know he smart thing to do right now is just swallow my pride and go there, and I know it's not Damien's fault that his dad sucks but I swear if I have to play loyal retainer to that smug prick in person... I'll probably end up breaking something. I'm just saying it's not to late Steph if you do the smart thing and enjoy a fancy meeting on his coin. Or if you want ice cream wine and to forget about that stuff for a night, I'm all for it.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie rolled her eyes amusedly, lips wry for the over-achiever's insistence on mulling over smart plays with little mention of how she felt about the issue. Ever the valedictorian. Why act the loyal retainer when Oracle is clearly of the Mage College? Why play it smart when you can always play for keeps? 

The teak twirled in deft hand as Stephanie happily considered her friend openly, making no movement at putting her own mask back on. Bruces kid and Grandfather Crossbow down there wouldnt exactly be hitting on mercenaries, only two days deep in the job by the by, unless were somehow completely exceptional, or the Waynes are sliding so far down the social ladder that theyre strapped for choices. Maybe both. Either way, advantage: yours. And this is _before_ they know your name. So if they pissed you off, you can always rock up, make a power play by keeping the mask on anyway, and hearing them out. If they suck half as hard as you think, or worse, thats crucial to know in your position, right? Use what you learn to make an important, informed choice about who your House should really be backing in the future. If anyone deserves backing at all. 

Stephanie shrugged contently. Or you skip out on the whole future kingmaker thing and instead show me what freezers and ice cream are. Me, you and Kate did just fine the night before, and no one would even know about Verena if it wasnt for you. Plus, Ive already got Damiens grappling hook, and enough platinum to bribe Robyn free of spooky fey island right this instant. So don't sweat the smart call. What feels right?

----------


## JbeJ275

"I don't know any more, fighting with you and Kate these past few days has felt right, actually bringing in the information and making plans has felt right, but we have so much more room to do that if we actually get this guy to loosen his purse strings a little more... hes clearly not stingy but a lot of the stuff we need is really expensive and if he's a Jackass at least I can have a good yell at him before I go... okay you got me. I'll go and see if I can put up with smug and smugger for an hour. Just promise me that if I go to do anything dumb you'll try and stop me before I try treason.

With that Barbara looked for a way down the building, heading for the medical tent first and looking to meet up with the others only after that.

----------


## Molan

With Barbara's concerns placated -- at least temporarily -- she and Stephanie agreed to take Fox's carriage back to the docks, and the party was greeted by number of alchemists, healer's and for-hire clerics in the medical tent, where they saw to the party's injuries. 

All patched up, the party prepared to depart. Alfred led them out to a carriage of his own; this one was massive, triple-axled, all black with a team of six massive ebony destriers lined up to pull it. It was hard not to miss the carved onyx insignia of House Wayne emblazoned on it's sides. 

*"This'll be our ride, if you please."*

Before the party embarked, Fox stopped one last time to thank them.

"*I can't tell you enough how much your efforts meant to us. When we met last week I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to trust you all. But you've saved the Guild, and with it, an opportunity the people of Fort Clinton have been waiting for a long time. I promise I'll try hard to make you all proud. Now, this might sound like some bald faced profiteering, but I hope you'll come back and visit us once you've gotten the chance to rest and recoup. We should have our new vendors up within a couple days; I think we might just have some tools that'll help you out on your journey. Twelve's Blessings.*"

The carriage took off, the weary group bumping along for the ride, ready for sleep but still no quite free to doze. The carriage departed Fort Clinton via the Clinton Bridge, which cut over the Gotham River into Downtown. As the entered the southernmost major island of the city, they entered Cobble Hill, and the scenery changed dramatically. Gone were the drab run down apartment buildings and warehouses of the slums; this was a place of sprawling fortified mansions, palaces and keeps. The roads were lined with tall, spiked iron fences. Faerie Fire lanterns lined the boulevards, still glowing white from the previous evening's enchantments, and everywhere they looked out the windows they could see the signs of immense power, privilege and money. It was also a dark, menacing place, as Cobble Hill itself knew that strangers had wandered uninvited into it's midst, and wanted them gone. Among the human aristocrats beginning to emerge from their manses, the party saw a surprisingly large number of gray dwarves on the street as well, further enhancing the unreal feeling in this part of town.

But the trip through Cobble Hill soon ended, as the Carriage turned onto Cavalry Bridge. Cavalry Bridge was a huge, long, massive stone structure that was rumored to predate the empire, and it swung far and impossibly far out into the waters of the great East River. Anyone who'd live in Gotham for even a short while knew the Cavalry Bridge led only one place -- to Wayne Island.

It loomed in the distance, tall and brooding, a single intimidating rock like a fist forcing it's way out of the waves. It was covered in trees, surrounded by a short wall, and at it's center was the massive, ancient fortress of the Waynes; Wayne Castle.



The Castle was incredible to look at. Old but mighty, run down but not crumbling, dark and covered in ivy and mostly unused, despite it's lingering grandeur. It eventually took up the entire view as they reached the other side of the bridge and several elderly looking Knight retainers opened the gates to let them in. Whatever waited for them inside, they were about to get a direct taste of Gotham's own history.

Once they disembarked, Alfred led them all inside to the great hall.

"*I'll show you to your rooms,*" he said. "*You're all probably exhausted. Don't feel any rush. We'll let you sleep and can have food prepared when you wake. Unless you have another preference, we can speak with Lord Wayne this evening. He's feeling a bit under the weather himself, so it might all just work out that way.*"

----------


## JbeJ275

Inside Barbara was seething, not only was she dragged out here in what aligned with her better judgement but went against her natural impulse but now she was being kept here for a day when she could be out trying to achieve something, or at least resting in the comfort of her own bed and making her way to this castle, so impressive and so thoughtlessly squandered by the braggart who lived there just like much else in the city, those thoughts left her pacing and angry for a while but eventually she calmed herself down, going over the new spell configuration's she had been testing, with the increasing subterfuge that caught up with her so quickly she decided to try out yet more powerful magics, it would push beyond her normal limits but neccesity was the mother of innovation. Once that was complete, she began to rest.

Once her rest was completed she strove to be among the first active, completing the preperation of her spells before heading back to the great hall and waiting there rather than in the preffered room. As the minutes ticked on and she made her way she steadily fought the impulses to scan the place for thinking beings, while it was a sensible precaution against criminlas it wouldn't do to insult one of the richest houses in gotham with her actions, besides, it made no sense for this to be an ambush by anyone sane. As one concession to her paranoia however she tried to ensure no-one else had any oppurtunity to infiltrate the place with a casting of _Detect Secret Doors._

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien elects to ride Titus alongside the carriage, rather than in it.  The child is red faced and broody, locked in a battle of excessive juvenile passion and supernaturally developed discipline; and hunches in the saddle of the trotting hound.  It is a mystery where the boy picked up such an intensity of brooding, from a father so famously libertine.

At one point on the journey, about two thirds of the way to the castle, he loudly and imperiously calls a halt to the journey for no discernible reason.  Pennyworth speaks to him outside and theres an arm flapping escalation of Damiens frantic gesturing - at his belt, back toward the docks, wildly in exasperation at the sky impugning the gods for negligence; a turn-around swirl of one finger in the air and adamant gesture back to the docks, and then finally a slackness of posture as detective instincts finally catch up to his emotion-laden forebrain.

Then he is exploding through the wide flung carriage door, leaping in and scrambling across knees and laps; hot and indistinct variations of give it back, I know you took it babbling wildly from the tight baffled-pug countenance until his little grabby, graspy hands manage to snatch the teak rod from Spoilers person.  With that, the frenzy is over as quickly as it began.  He tumbles out of the carriage, slams the door, mounts up and gallops ahead of the party the rest of the way.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Barbara was the first one up; by the time she woke, it was already well past three in the afternoon. Once her powers began to flow through her body and out into the room around her, she started to get a stronger sense for the old fortress.

There was nothing magical in her room, other than what she had with her, which was a good sign if nothing else. But her spell almost immediately found a secret door, hidden behind thick mahogany panel walls that had been ornately carved with the image of a dark forest. She found the mechanism to operate the panel as part of the great carving; she pushed the image of the moon into the wall, and a mechanism clicked and the panel next to it slid forward. She pushed it to the side, and it effortlessly slid away, revealing a stony passage beyond, dusty and lined with unused torch sconces on one side and thin arrow slit windows on the other. She took a quick moment to pace down the hallway and found the backsides of several other doors; experience told her that this was one of likely several passages accessible from the castle's noble chambers that allowed it's former inhabitants to move from one room to another without entering the main areas of the building.

Satisfied that nothing nefarious was hiding behind her wall, she resealed the wall and pressed on into the outter corridord, looking for further disturbances. There was nothing obvious on their level, and she followed the narrow stone stairwell Alfred had led them up in the morning to return to the large ornate hallway the next level down. This one too was unlit, save light shining in through high up windows, and completely quiet and empty. Rows of suits of armor stood at attention all the way down the hall, and she checked each for discrepancies. Sure enough, between two particular suits of full plate, she found another hidden door, this one leading into an area that had clearly been reserved for the castle's servants, back when the Waynes were still employing any. She saw cleaning supplies, old stale food, and even some makeshift sleeping quarters. Back out into the main avenue, she found the great hall, checking that up and down as well.

There were, as it turned out, more than half a dozen ways out of the great hall. Besides the large main entrance, there were two side doors, both of which were obvious and visible, leading out of it. Secret doors led to the scullery behind where the Lord's Seat was positioned at the far end of the hall, but the kitchens were similar to the servant's quarters she'd seen -- mostly abandoned, with one small fire burning unattended in the kitchen hearth and another burning under a cauldron of something. At least some people still lived here, but there weren't many. The massive keep was mostly abandoned. 

The other two secret doors leading out of the great hall were clearly for different purposes; one was a servant's passage, another had the looks of an escape route to allow castle defenders to move from one place to another undefended.

After assessing most of this, it quickly became clear to Barbara that the castle truly had two layouts; one was the obvious one that she saw when she'd walked in and was showed around by Alfred; large chambers and hallways, the kinds visitors would be shown. The second layout existed under and in between the first; a veritable maze of secret rooms and passages, embedded all throughout the castle, turning it into a labyrinth that only it's inhabitants would likely come to recognize. Still, she'd only visited a very small part of it; what else was this byzantine old place hiding from her?

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate sighs.  When Pennyworth announces they have been summoned only to wait, she turns to Barbara.  "Just like the army.   Hurry up and wait.  The sad truth is, we can probably do more good hearing out Lord Wayne than going on alone.  

Although, honestly,  I don't have much of a choice, he's one of my closest living relatives. 

Just play nice, OK?  Being out there with the two of you has been great,  and, if Lord Wayne gives us a fraction of the help he can, things will be looking up.  I might be able to do the kind if things I haven't since I had military artificers at my back and that back up my bravado the night we met."

----------


## MrAbdiel

Once home, Damien tore off into the grand halls with Titus bounding along after him, retreating into the vast mystery of the place and emerging, on the other side of a bath, sleep and change, much like the self satisfied little lordling the trio initially met.  Catching the impromptu assembly as the evening hours creep up, and hearing just enough to discern some spectre of Kates laconic frustration with waiting, he inserts himself into the discussion.

The delay is unfortunate.  But if it leaves you restless, Kane, I wonder if you wouldnt mind passing some moments sparring.

The child trots over to a closet of no obvious purpose, whose doors open to display a variety of interesting sparring weapon analogies - shapes of swords, knives, spears and pole arms with felt edges and squares of blue chalk to dust them, presumably to leave distinct impacts on those struct.  Immediately he claims a knife - the second of four on the rack, for some reason - and begins chalking it.

My tutors have mostly been of the kind who practice defending by evasion.  I have precious few opportunities to practice with genuine armored opponents.

----------


## Molan

*== CHAPTER 3: THE HOUSE OF WAYNE ==*

Four o'clock rolled around and twilight began to shine through the haunted, empty windows of Wayne Castle.



Spoiler, Damien and Kate roused from their rests, and eventually made their way down to the Great Hall, finding Oracle there waiting for them, latent arcane energy quietly radiating off of her body, more felt than seen.

The hall was gloomy and grand all at the same time. It wasn't quite abandoned or inhabited, shabby but intimidating all at once. Great pillars lined the huge cathedral like ceiling on either side, and long tables ran down either side of a great, ornate, but badly worn carpet. The party could almost see the ghosts of visitors and family members who once sat at these tables for great feasts, now little more than echoes of a time long past. Several massive chandeliers hung suspended by metal chains from the peak of the ceiling, hanging down silently over the whole area. Along the ceiling, starting from the doors near the entryway and leading up to the Lord's dais, long iron poles jutted out from every other pillar, and on some of these, the banners of House Wayne vassals hung, still splendid, if a bit dusty. 

Nearest to the great chair were a pair of sigils, one recognizable and one not. On the left was a gray banner, emblazoned with a great golden "W"; the icon of the Merchant's Guild. To the right of it was a much more obscure house sigil, one not belonging to any noticeable noble house. That pattern continued in the next row; on the right was the black banner and crimson direbat sigil of House Kane; to the left, another black banner, but this one emblazoned with a blue bird of prey, a completely unknown family crest. 

The rest of the banner poles had been stripped empty; there were six poles in all, all of them clearly where banners had once hung, but had been since taken down. There were clues to what had once been there in the strands of fabric that had been left behind, stuck to the metal after many years of being displayed; a white cloth here, purple there, black here and blue there. The only other insignia left in the haul was in the very back, hanging on the far wall above the Lord's Chair. It was a gray banner, emblazoned only with a single, black direbat at it's center.

Damien danced around the center of the hall, daring Kate to spar with him. While he tried to pair off, Oracle and Spoiler took in their surroundings.

*"I thought the Wayne Sigil was gray and blue; with a yellow moon behind the bat?"* Spoiler wondered aloud.

She wasn't much one to pay overly too much attention to what the nobles were up to, but that banner had flown over Gotham long enough that most people recognized it, at least in passing.

*"It was."* Alfred said, entering almost silently through the great doors behind them. *"But the yellow after Lord Wayne departed, House James was elevated from being the city's stewards to it's full sovereigns. The Moon of Gotholme was always considered to be the icon of leadership over the city. Centuries ago, when the Wayne's conquered this place, the necromancers who preceded them considered the moon that shown over these lands to be a source of magical power. The moon has been the emblem of the Lord of Gotham ever since. It shines over the Jame's black tower now. When Master Bruce returned, he adopted a new sigil to defer to their supremacy."*

*"Wow. So old Wayne just rolled over and took the demotion eh?"*

Alfred smiled. 

*"Something like that, sure. In any case, the sigil change put the high lords at ease, gave us a bit of a lower profile. I feel like it's worked out so far. Wouldn't you say Master Damien?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"I would have cut off my right arm if that's what it took to banish the inevitable circus of pomp and folly that comes with being _relevant at court_" the scion says with a lavish soaking of sarcasm on the phrase, as if mocking someone's more genuine use of the term.  "If all it happens to take is cheaper color array at the tailors, then that's all the better."  He offers this with a sidelong glance at Pennyworth, but without taking too much focus off Batwoman in case she decides to take up his offer and initiate the game in a single swing.

----------


## Feathersnow

"That makes sense to me.  An aristocrat should be better than a peacock."  She takes a practice stick.

"Okay, no powers or ki"  she moves to a few paces of the young warrior and bows.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien looks surprised that shes taken him up on it, but aint one to miss a chance.  With a competitive grin, he takes a second dagger, chalks it, reverse his grip, and bows.  Right you are.  First to three touches that dont hit armor.  En guarde, warrior.

*Spoiler: En guarde!*
Show

I figure well just roll some and then interpret the results, huh?  Five rolls each, seeing what the story tells.  Damien is going to be using full expertise the whole time, so his AC will be 25; and his attack bonus in melee will drop to 5.  Here we go!

*First Strike* - (1d20+5)[*24*]
*Second Strike* - (1d20+5)[*7*]
*Third Strike* - (1d20+5)[*12*]
*Fourth Strike* - (1d20+5)[*6*]
*Final Strike* - (1d20+5)[*17*]

----------


## Feathersnow

The hoplite and the ninja square off.  The nimbler of the two cheekily scores a hit in the first instant, only to be caught off guard from a blow from behind of the woman's stick as she backs up.

They dance around for a full minute,  Master Wayne spending most of his time too far inside the veteran's reach for her weapon to be brought to bear, but catching a second hit during their circling.

Both of them are tired, the younger contestant from how mobile and focused he must stay,  the larger from the shear effort of dancing in her armor.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate is exhausted, and not used to fighting without the powers she carefully cultivated over years or the easy, re-assuring balance of her customized giant poleaxe.  Had she either of thie things, this probably would have ended.  As it is, physical exhaustion has met up with mental strain and she reaches a breaking point.  She bursts into a sloppy but brutal form used by Paladins on crusades in the ancient days before House Wayne deposed the Necromancers and topples the child, finishing the form and nearly actually hurting him as her devilish bloodlust flashes in her eyes for a second and is repressed again.

She bows, unsure what to say.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Two slashes of blue chalk stripe his body, and its all he can do to keep inside the Batwomans reach and away from her broad, hewing strikes.  Knowing he will lose the attrition battle eventually, the scion settles on a gambit that has served him before against larger foes - he feints high, then propelled himself into a knee-slide on the polished stone floor between Kates legs and pounces up with a backhanded slash from his left handed blade, torquing his body anti-clockwise to accomplish the swing.  But Kate, it seems, is not so easily lulled; rather than stepping backward or pivoting, the normal response to something scurrying between your ankles, she steps forward, establishing distance so the ninjas spinning blow cuts nothing but air, and her own turning strike catches him a swatting, perfect blow in the ribs that, had it been her poleaxe, would have sheared him in two.  As it is, it just winds him, constitutes a third, winning blow, and leaves him folded on the floor like an old pillow, wheezing.  He cannot articulate words immediately, but lets the daggers fall, and offers a reassuring thumbs-up.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara largely aquises to Kate's request to play nice though it's only grumbled out through gritted teeth, and she stays mostly quiet through the bout that follows, though her talents were very different she did appreciate the talent on display, and a little of the frustration left her face when the littlest lordling takes a strike. For all that he's young and allowed to be nieve in regards to some things the fact he evidently wasn't joining their halfway suicidal charge against half the cities crime out of any hope to seize power but instead ... What a boyish desire for excitement? No, that couldn't drive anyone like that, but if it wasn't a wish for respect or prestige that drove the kid, or a desire to grab power for some greater hope at enforcing change. 

If the kid's mind wasn't so slippery she'd feel better here, as for all that they worked together being in the house of a negligent socialite, a respectable but clearly loyal and crossbow wielding old man and a hyper-violent child was bound to put her on edge, especially given she still couldn't understand why the child was so eager to practice such violent ats at so young an age.

----------


## Molan

"* That was quite impressive,*" Alfred said. "* I haven't seen young Master Damien receive a spanking like that in years. I'm almost beginning to feel like a negligent parent.*"

Kate held out her hand, extended her soft palm towards Damien and turning the barbed spikes on her wrist and forearm away from him. The little lordling hopped back up, looking red in the face from Alfred's chiding.

"*Oh do cheer up Master Damien. I am only teasing. Besides which that was a particularly impressive showing against a veteran Chevaliesse.*"

"*You fight well young one.*" Kate conceded. "*Where did he learn that fighting style? He uses techniques I've never seen before, and I thought I'd seen everything in this city.*"

"*Ah. Well,*" Alfred stuttered a bit. "*Master Bruce learned a number of esoteric and exotic martial arts in his time away from Gotham. Besides which, I like to think that I've taught Master Damien here a few things that I picked up during my time with the Ranger Corps.* "

Kate arched an eyebrow, looking surprised.

"*You we're a Ranger? Where did you serve?*"

"*Sixth Legion, Second Rangers.*" he said. "*I served during the Hills Campaign. Quite a long time ago now.*"

"*Ah, then I missed you.*" said Kate. "*12th Legion, First Rangers. You must have trained at Coldspire then.*"

"*Ah yes,*" Alfred chuckled. "*Twelve miserable months that was. Not sure why they had to headquarter the Ranger Corps somewhere so miserable.*"

"*They said it'd make us tougher.*" Kate replied, sounding only half serious.

"*Ah yes, well, I suppose they succeeded in that. It's funny, the whole time I was at Coldspire, I wished that I could just be sent out on campaign, as that would somehow be better. And once I actually found myself out there...*"

"*You only wanted to go home.*" Kate nodded.

"*Ah well. Intemperance is the providence of youth, I'm afraid. Suppose that's something Master Damien and I have in common.*"

He turned towards the rest of the group.

"*If it's all right with our guests, I'm sure you're all ready to get on with the business at hand. Dinner will be served in the library this evening, and we are prepared to discuss our plans to track down and destroy this menace that's plaguing our city. If you'll all follow me, we can get on with the main event.*"

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara proceeds to the library, still tense but pleased that now at least they seem to be moving onto something productive.

----------


## Molan

Alfred led the party out of the Great Hall and down a separate corridor, away from their rooms, during which time Oracle picked out several more secret doors embedded in the Castle's architecture, though she declined to point this knowledge out.

Another flight of stairs led them to the library, a great, brooding, sprawling room with impossibly tall book cases and tables, desks, chairs and couches spread about in a dimm representation of shabby, worn luxury. There were several candelabras lit and a massive fire raged in it's central hearth, pushing away the cold chill that gripped the rest of the fortress. Near the hearth was a large, found, mahogany table, ringed with tall backed chairs, more than enough for all of them. In front of several of those chairs were hot meals and tall glasses of wine. Damien flopped into his seat and Titus quickly joined him, sniffing eagerly at the spread. The rest of the party followed suit, and Alfred sat down last.

In the center of the table sat the Codex Sanctus Celestialis, it's locked golden cover shimmering in the firelight. Now that they had time to get a good look at it, it wasn't immediately obvious how the strange book could even be opened; it didn't seem to have any readily recognizable key hole.

Before anyone had the chance to ask questions about the book, a hidden door somewhere off to the side creaked open, and Bruce Wayne finally walked into the Library.

He was tall, and ruggedly handsome, but somehow also somewhat gaunt, as if he hadn't gotten enough sleep in weeks. His powerful, muscular frame was draped in a fine, deep black tunic, and he wore black pants and black leather boots. His midnight colored hair was only slightly disheveled, having down around the sides of his face like a cowl, and he had a look of intensity in his eyes as though a great, pressing weight was bearing down on him. He walked towards the table and made his way around, to then unoccupied chair nearest the fire. Before he did sit though, he took a moment to bow and salute Kate.

"*Dame Kane, it is an honor. Thank you for coming to our house; I apologize that I have not had the opportunity to meet you sooner. Your reputation as a legionaire and a knight precede you.*" he turned to address the rest of the table. "*But I'm afraid other than my squire and these two Noble chevaliers I don't know anyone else here. Alfred tells me you two were instrumental in saving his life. I have to thank you for that.*" 

He sat down, nothing at his plate but a glass of wine, which he mulled but didn't touch, instead looking out cautiously over their ad hoc gathering.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*Carriages and castling*=  

The only enjoyable parts of the journey were playing keep away with Damiens device, however impossible that was in the coach with the motivated little parkour fiend, and stealing a hot bath with scented soaps. The cloth bath robes hugging her nude form like a hand-tailored grey cloud wasnt exactly enough to cover all her concerns, though. Hearing they had to wait, Spoiler was altogether sure she wouldnt make the Sionis Manor today, and worse, had totally lost the opportunity to inform anyone important in the Narrows about the shattered glass in Vault 6. The Merchants would secure it. 

_So much for claiming to be Witch Hunters, and hustling a few clearly ungodly pieces out to help ruin the Thieves Guild. Theyll have to make do with the cypher alone._ The House had succeeded before at greater heists with far less, but that didnt stop the rogue from chewing her lip. It wasnt about a one-off hit against the larger criminal organisation, as much as any edge over the larger gangs had to be considered. There was the entirety of the Narrows at stake, and absolutely no one among the nobility cared to improve anything about it except Lady Kyle herself. Or so it was said.

The elderly knight showed Stephanie to a room large enough to fit at least four shanty lean-tos, and dominated by a bed as wide across as seven thick chests. The mattress was so seductively soft she feared she never be able to make peace with thin sheets and the hard ground again. Sighing, she pushed the plush high backed chair from before its little table to before the fireplace instead. It had taken hunting down a servant  few that there were  to figure out how to get it crackling. Thanking the man, she laid down the holy symbol of Estanna on the plush chair when he was outside, but hide the sack in the draw. She couldnt risk it clinking for her early morning excursion.

Spoiler had no delusions that the old knight had only wanted the Mage College woman and the House Kane knight, and had extended an invitation to her out of some odd sense of chivalry. Her crossbow had only been minimally useful in the last engagement. Slipping back on her full equipment reluctantly, she knew this might be the last time the Waynes ever had her in their presence. That meant learning as much as she could to figure out where they probably kept their soon to be growing fortunes. Too many nobles had proven themselves self-serving and predatory when they grew in power, and House Kyle specialised in redistributing misapplied wealth. 

_Better to know and not need it, than need and not know._ 

Spoiler opened the solid wood door to begin getting an idea of her surroundings. 

*Spoiler: Take 10 Hide (25), Move (25), Search (20), and actions*
Show

 

Of note, this is basically only searching for a maximum of an hour (as everyone is likely asleep, and personal fatigue is a thing), mostly to find anywhere that might realistically have wealth preferably in the form of coins, or basically the rough location of their treasury (if it even exists). But Im not actually trying to disable any devices or open any chests. This is just to confirm okay, great possibility some expensive things are stashed in there. The more nondescript items, the better.

Also, I would love to actually nab at least one preferably small thing that _is_ distinctly House Wayne, simply as proof that I really was in their castle. A signet ring is -okay-, but doesnt confirm much. Something like a solid silver candle holder with their symbol on the bottom is better. This theft is motivated to show no, really, I was actually in their home. Crazy, right?  

Then sleep on the floor of the assigned room, but in the soft duvet. Gotta indulge a little. 


=*For the Long Haul*=  

The House Kyle associate strolled over to the long table, dragging a black bowl filled with sugar cubes nearer. Midway from popping one of the white cubes into her mouth, Spoiler stopped and eyed Damiens back mischievously, before instead emptying half the bowl into the platnium filled sack quietly. The ceramic was returned slightly away from her. She returned back to the wizards side, not overly sure what to say in the noble setting, but keen to attempt it regardless. 

Ah, the perks of the pauper,  the unmasked blonde otherwise wearing her full get-out began beside Oracle in the long hall, Those two have already seen me without, and as the only nobody here, I pretty much have free reign to not care about disguises for once. Not sure Id recommend it over owning your own castle, though. 

Stephanie took a moment to jingle the sack attached to her belt, confirming it hadnt been swapped out or lightened by anyone. Anyway, it makes you look more badass if you stick to your wands. Not all of us can intrigue princes, or rearrange reality with a word. The chalky clash between Damien and Kate was watched with veiled interest, the boy choosing a wooden knife to a weapon with longer reach, and she felt uncomfortably aware the same people that had fed and sheltered her for years might someday need pointers for encounters distinctly less playful. 

_Whos to say her vendetta isnt against all theft? That hell understand how the Narrows is being given a chance? A purpose?_

A gloomy air descended on the purple clad vigilante, for how few outside the neighbourhood understood why they called themselves House Kyle. Sharing successful heists with half-nots, stabbing those that were making the region worse, and persuading their way to a united and thriving community was the current approach. The sprawling, slapdash jigsaw of favelas and hopelessness that made up the Narrows was too complex for one approach. But theirs was a promise for a future, as much as she had started doubting those in it; and sought people far outside it. It was too likely to end up in jail or in the dirt. Entirely too possible she might be abandoned like the Vault thief girl. 

_We dont even know what really happened to that guy in the red mask..._

Do you buy Bruces cover story? Stephanie asked Oracle conversationally when the grey knight was out of earshot, voice kept low out of self-preservation, and sympathy for the son. Her gloom was hidden behind an easy half-smile as she continued. That hes not meeting some maid, or playing with his sword? Or making us wait so his time appears precious for when he finally doth meet the people. 

Few were the men, let alone among nobles, that would admit to random mercenaries that their leadership had led their households to a rough spot. To say nothing that they had an excess of time for it. They all had accidentally kept the bat banner from the flame when they protected the Merchants Guild, although it was certainly better the Waynes succeed than the Thieves Guild. They were the weaker of two poisons. Two chalky strikes caught Damien quicker than anticipated. 

Stephanie shrugged innocently. But maybe thats a genuine sickness, too. 

The boy made one final desperate dash between the taller womans legs. Far from the strike at ligaments or a less sporting spot, he did a surprising leg sweep that caught only the air. Surprising, that was, to herself, not Kate. The still helmed knight easily stepped past it and ended it with a final swipe. Stephanie only sighed, the incredibly skilful child having ultimately been overcome by military experience. The only winning move was in befriending knights, not battling them.

Im guessing Bruce wants to play Master of the Hunt to appear relevant to Gotham, even if all that meant is subduing that unstoppable creature. Which is easily better than nothing. Her eyes flicked to Oracle. But what does the woman with more spells and ice cream than House Fries on amphetamines desire out of all this?  

Oracle stepped forward into the unmarked arena, evidently desiring not to be overly apart of the conversation, or else to humble someone.  

*Spoiler: on timing/Jbe*
Show



do not make me delete all this jbe I spent forever trying to make this fit

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Stephanie crept out of her room not long after the servant was gone, and began to slowly make her way through the huge manse. 

The great keep was incredibly cold and foreboding...but it was also mostly empty, which made Stephanie's job a lot easier. Better still, many of the corridors were lined with large pillars or suits of armor; it wasn't long until a couple of servants were quietly making their way down a hallway and heading her direction. Stephanie bolted behind the nearest suit of plate mail and lurked in the shadows as the pair strolled by.

"*...I heard they're vigilantes.*"

"*They are but what else is knew? Half of the people in this city are mercenaries, adventurers or footpads. Who else were they going to find?*"

"*Why do we need help anyway? There's still a few men-at-arms left. And the Lords Wayne are more than capable of 
 taking care of themselves.*"

"*Don't count on it. I heard Sir Pennyworth talking in the study a week back. This is worse than the other times...it's...more dangerous.*"

"*That's hard to believe...I remember...*"

After that, the two servants passed out of earshot, and Stephanie stepped out into the hallway to watch to make sure the coast was clear. When she did, she got a chance to look back at the statue she'd been hiding behind, and was surprised by what she'd found.

It was a tall suit of silvery armor, draped in a long dark blue cloak. Emblazoned in the center of it's chest was the ancient symbol of House Wayne; a golden, oval-shaped moon behind a black direbat. The helm was partial; the mouth piece was open and it had two angular eye slits, but what made it unique was that a pair of sharp, angular ears were forged to point out of the top of the helmet, piercing the hood of the cloak. Stephanie couldn't quite place it, but there was something about the suit that stuck in her mind. When she inspected it closer she saw it was covered in a thin layer of dust, so it hadn't been used in quite a long time. Still, she couldn't help but feel unnerved by it.

She scurried away from the odd armor, deciding it best to find some valuables elsewhere.

Her search uncovered a few odd gems in the castle; she found the kitchen, servants quarters and several guard quarters. She found a secret door, but wasn't sure where it led and didn't have time to investigate. There was a door that looked like it led to an armory, and another to a garrison, but both were locked. She found a few other areas that were also locked, and a couple of other interesting staircases she didn't have time to climb.

There was a study in the west wing that was filled with dust and books and valuable looking art, but nothing particularly interesting or worth her time. In the east wing, things got a bit more interesting. One room was a large open ballroom area with limestone tiled floors and plenty of fancy decorations, with a large elegant piano in the far corner. The place seemed important -- there was much less dust layering the surfaces in here than in many other parts of the castle, but she couldn't find anything out of place that would indicate why the room was special. 

She made her way around the shelves built into the walls, and eventually scored what she was looking for: several writing instruments, including wax for seals, inside a monogrammed and lacquered wooden box. One of the object inside was what looked like a silver-plated seal stamp with a Wayne sigil and a "W" over it.

"*Paydirt.*" She whispered.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle replies to Spoiler's questions with just a hint of a smile. "Oh who knows, no doubt a little sniffle or cough for him is a thing of great concern, no doubt he believes his time is more valube though or perhaps he think's he's doing us a great favour letting us linger in the same building as him for a litttle longer. Besides it might be a mixture, a little bit of posturing, a little bit of recovery and a little bit making him seem stronger than it is. Plenty of nobles find a reason to posture, and he could be one of those who doesn't realise when it's time to stop."

This seemed to be cheering Barbara at least in so much as letting her unattatch herself from the present situation and focus on the world through a more analyctical lense ensured she remained calm. 


"As for why I'm doing this.. I appreciate the kind words but you have to undeerstand, we're meduim fish in the world's most ferocious pond right now. I've managed to be clever so far, and with your and Kate's help, and i guess last night Damien's, we're punching above our weight. But with the chaos in the city, and the corrupt attacking them from every angle the Gordons have a limited capacity to act and a lot of people willing to counter any attempt to escelate. And I've come to see that with the indifference from above, there's little hope of the justicar's being cleaned up from the inside. We've got to strike at the pillars that support that corruption and Wayne wealth, if I'm being honest it's out best hope to do that."


Left unsaid was the fact that a far from insubstantial part of her motivation was nothing more significant or less petty than the enormous argument she'd had with her brother before leaving the house, and the deep rooted and deliberately unexamined feelings she had about what the path of her life had meant for the family around her. 

Leaving what was said said and what was unsaid unsaid, it soon came time to depart to the library and speak with wayne. 

_=A Rather Tense Table=_

In response to the host's comments Barbara spoke.

"I'm Oracle, a mage college trained diviner and it seems a newly minted mercenary.

----------


## Molan

"*It's a pleasure to meet you, Oracle. You say 'newly minted'; were you an adventurer before now or is this your first foray out of the College?*" Wayne replied.

His question seemed pleasant and amicable enough. He was charming, in a sort of reserved and brooding way, and impeccably polite, if nothing else. It wasn't what anyone had expected of him, but his manner also wasn't completely out of place, either. He had asked them there as a favor, after all. All in all the former prince remained a bit of an enigma, masking whatever his true purpose was under an excellent poker face.

----------


## JbeJ275

"I had taken part for some freelance work with an intitution outside of the colleges before this, but I'm somewhat new to offering my services in such an distinctly martial endevour."

The reply was quite and polite, though with a subtle note of tension still present there. For all her earlier vitriol at the man it was easier to keep from summoning it with a name and a face, now attatched to the previously nebulous concept of the man conceding the oppurtunity to win back the institutions of gotham.

----------


## Molan

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. 

"*I see. Alfred and I both spend some time doing adventuring work, in past lives. But we both come home because we felt like Gotham needed us. I won't presume to know whether you feel the same but we're happy to have you regardless.*"

He turned to look at Spoiler. 

"*And you, miss? I don't believe I've yet had the pleasure.*"

----------


## JoyWonderLove

=*House Wayne: Because Someone Has To Eat & Make Noise In The Library*=  

Havent we? Stephanie teased from her seat, when the handsome royal stated they werent acquainted. We must have _just_ kept missing each other then. The Narrows are quite the warren. She winked. But certainly not, Your...Grace? Princeliness? Names Steph, if you like. Spoiler, as you prefer. You havent heard of me because Im the guppy in the lake. Not nearly as agile and stealthy as Lord Damien, nowhere near the knowledge and resourcefulness of Oracle, and not in the same city as House Kanes prowess. You might have called me passable with a crossbow, if Ser Pennyworth werent here to raise the bar entirely too high.

The wine glass was swirled around, although an observant type would note the blonde hadnt sipped it once in all the time others had talked. Actually, it was thanks to Oracles alchemy that we were able to obscure the docklands, and confound the Thieves Guild long enough to break them into manageable chunks. She also saved me from a possession. Whereas Dame Kanes psychic powers protected us against both the Thieves Guild _and_ Lord Dent when surprise became irrelevant. Very much an anchor despite how violent the storm. Lord Damien also showed sharp insight when he rejected my idea of swapping the book for Sir Pennyworths well-being. We have both right now because he saw opportunities I didnt. 

The gang member turned mercenary never quite offered a toast to anyone, aware enough it would be rude when the host was more than capable. So Your Grace can obviously tell then: my only true talent is talking too much. But we cant all be so strong and silent. She shrugged. There was a single small sip taken of the wine then.

Anyway, Your Grace and Sir Pennyworth gave up the freedom of adventure for the burden of office. A noble sacrifice, and more than most would give. How was it adjusting from one lifestyle to the other? What have you found to be the greatest challenges to helping Gotham so far?

*Spoiler: Take 10 Diplomacy (30)*
Show


Improve his attitude, improve chances of getting help and pardons.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien seems not to have taken his drubbing at the hands of the Dame too much to heart.  Indeed, its the furthest thing from his mind as he scarfs half of his meal with a growing boys appetite before sparing a glance toward the Lord Wayne across the table, conducting himself with a certain amount of grace over there, and adjusts.  It seems like the transition is unconscious, his attention going from food to guests; and he begins poking his meal around on the plate with instinctive juvenile idol mimicry.  As he falls into this pattern, the similarities between them grow more obvious.  The heavy, pronounced dark eyebrows; the classically squared off jaw; little things about the shape of his ears and nose.  If hes not a legitimate son, hes a damn fine impersonator; but if he is, why is he a squire and not, as some have generously feigned or innocently guessed was the case, an recognised son and heir?  The town chatter had various theories, but none easy to confirm.

He swirled his wine - probably a juice, poured into his crystal ware by an indulgent servant - and made a point of not sipping it, so now three of them at the table were swirling and cautiously not partaking.

----------


## Molan

Bruce smiled, nodding a bit in Spoiler's direction. 

"*Honestly? The worst thing? Has been realizing things would have been a lot better if I'd stuck around.*"

The table went quiet for a few moments, and Alfred leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as if settling in.

"*Thing is, when my parents died, I was very young. It's not a huge stretch to say that I didn't handle their loss very well.*"

Alfred couldn't hold whatever he was thinking in, and nearly burst in a short chuckle.

*"Hah. That's one way to describe it."*

Bruce smiled with chagrin, but didn't correct him.

*"I...felt lost. And I was hurt, and I lashed out. Eventually, I decided I couldn't stay here anymore. I put Gotham behind me, and assumed I'd never come back. I traveled quite a lot, and one day..."* he raised his glass towards Alfred, taking his first sip of the evening. 

*"...Alfred tracked me down. He told me how bad things had gotten here, convinced me to come back. Of course once I got here, the city was already upside down. Technically House Wayne was still sovereign, but the James' had been stewards for over a decade and a half. I didn't know anyone in this city at that point, and most of the other major Houses had spent the entire time gobbling up every stake in town. We realized I had no choice but to abdicate, and pledge fealty to House James. After that..."* Bruce sighed, sort of shrugging. Alfred gave him the feintest of smiles.

*"Well...we...had to find other ways to help. So, we've tried. And we've had some successes, but some setbacks too. I won't hide the fact from you that I fronted Lucius the money he paid you for the jobs you did for him."*

*"And the payroll that he used to start paying mercenaries and day laborers to begin working the Vaults again."* Alfred added.

*"Yes indeed."* Bruce said. *"So now, Fort Clinton finally has a second chance at life, and maybe if we can turn that around, one day we can bring Midtown around too. Tiny little acorns, and all that. But, I have to be honest with you; the city has bigger problems than it's corrupt nobility. Sure, they're bad, but the rot goes deeper. It's been stricken with attacks from terrorists and rogue magi and all sorts of nightmares. And now--"* he he gestured towards the book sitting weightily in the center of their gathering *"--we've got this monster. I probably don't need to tell you that the James' and the College and the High Lords all have their heads so far up their backs that they're doing less than nothing about it, but that thing prays on innocent people. It has to be stopped."*

*"So, what exactly do you need from us? What's with the book?"*

Bruce smiled.

*"That's the question isn't it. Well, you see, we found out that the Codex, which the Guild had been sitting on for who knows how long, has spells that ought to be able to kill, or at least cripple it. That was the first step in our plan to try to bring it down."*

*"First step? Then what's the second?"*

Alfred chimed in.

*"The Codex is rumored to have been written by the gods themselves...or the angels or some such, there's a few different interpretations of the legend. Either way, the power it contains is fundamentally lawful, overwhelming, divine energy. But it's also beyond mortal comprehension -- this is a job for an archmage, or a high priest. We're not sure -- either way, those are resources we don't currently have. But more than that, even if we had someone available who could channel the energies properly, they still wouldn't be able to use the book without help."*

"*Help? What kind of help?*"

Bruce answered.

"*The Codex requires a special tool in order for a mortal to wield it. This tool is called "The Cypher".*"

"*Technically,*" said Alfred, "*It's true designation is a long and complicated word in Celestial but, for our purposes, 'The Cypher' will do.*"

"*Exactly. And if you've been following along this long, you can probably guess: we don't have the Cypher and we don't know where it is.*"

He raised his glass to the assembled group.

"*And so that, my friends, is where you all come in.*"

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

As best you can tell, your Diplomacy has warmed Lord Wayne up a fair bit.

----------


## Feathersnow

"I am glad to see you take your responsibilities as an aristocrat seriously.  I have a contact in the ecclesiarchy I might be able ask to help channel divine energy, but I have no reason to think she has any special knowledge of this Cypher."

----------


## Molan

*"Well that's at least a bit of good news, if nothing else. Perhaps your friend will come in handy when the time comes. If no one from the Imperial Church knows anything about the cypher -- or more accurately, if we don't know anyone in the Church who's willing to talk -- then we're left with two options. The first is that we could try to go to the Mage's College, but I'm not very confident about that approach. They're legendarily hierarchical and nearly impossible to infiltrate, what with their overwhelming arcane magic powers.

Our other option is to try and track down House Dent, and figure out where Lord Two-Face is currently hiding out."*

*"How would that help? They lost the book to us. Or, to Damien more accurately."*

*"Absolutely. But why were they looking for the Codex in the first place?"* Alfred asked.

*"The simple fact that Dent was after the book is the only real lead we've got. Tracking down and discovering House Dent's hideout may currently be our best lead on the Cypher. If they don't have it then they might no where it is."* said Bruce.

*"But why did old Dent want the book in the first place?"*

*"No idea. The only thing we know for sure is: Harvey wanted the book, he's no more capable of using it without the Cypher than we are, his gang is one of the most dangerous groups in Gotham's underworld and..."* Bruce trailed off, but Alfred finished his thought.

*"No one has any idea where to find them."*

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

You don't know much of anything about this arcane/divine super key made by the angels, unfortuantely. That kind of word just doesn't get around much on the streets. However, I'll toss in a second result on House Dent, which should help:
 - The Dents are one of the most feared groups in the city. Originally made up of a number of former knights who remained loyal to Dent after his spiral into madness, they've expanded and turned over a lot, and have repeatedly infuriated the High Lords of Gotham and the Mage's College by constantly raiding their treasures. The Dents are closely embedded in Gotham's underworld now, on par with larger, older organizations like the Dark Market and the Thieves Guild, but they're considered to be numerically smaller and much more powerful, due to their superior skill and weaponry.


*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Unfortunately, you have heard of the _Cypher_, but only in academic contexts. Your best piece of knowledge is that it functions off of a type of magic called _Theurgy_, which mixes divine and arcane practices.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Hmm... with what i saw of Dent during the fight it seems he has some unusual magic energies about him. I didn't get close enough to divine the relevant details but he also seemed to be utilising a mixture of rather fell arcane magic and magic that my have been divine magic, though I don't think it was anything truly celestial. If the Cypher is an example of therugic magic as many expect it could have some relationship with Dent's own pseudo-therugic nature."


"As for you leads, it might be worth me and Steph attempting research from the mage college angle, I have some amount of legitimate reason to be there, while if anyone can talk their way into the more restricted collections without triggering the direct deciet evaluation wards most arcanists prefer it's likely her."

----------


## Molan

*"That's not a bad idea,"* said Bruce. *"If you can find a way to infiltrate the college without raising any untoward interest, that could give us a great opening into what House Dent might be up to, or, barring that, where the Cypher is actually located."*

With that, Bruce stood up, and paced around the table away from the blazing hearth until he was standing at the side of the room, in front of a large portrait of his late parents. He leaned against a large iron and wooden cart positioned there.

*"Listen, I know I'm asking a lot. Each of you has other priorities, other things on your plate. I want you to know that I'm here to help. In exchange for your help I'm willing to work to support your own endeavors, insofar as they're all legal and above board. If you're willing trust me, I can provide a lot of help. But that goes two ways -- I need to be able to trust you too. And more to the point, I desperately need to be able to throw more swords at this Monster problem. So, if we're going to do this, I need to know that you're committed to this mission, and to this city."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien's commitment to this cause can be presumed; and he certainly presumes it is presumed.  While waiting for the three ladies of midnight justice to consider their answers, the scion's eyes track between the pacing Lord Wayne and the table and, deciding he ought to be standing over _there_ where the question was asked instead of sitting over _here_ where its answer is being generated, he pops from his chair and paces over to where the elder Wayne stands in pensive, brooding firelight, and settles in beside him.  A glance to his right to his father gives him final reference for a couple of small adjustments to his posture; althought not leaning on anything himself, he unwittingly draws attention to the cues of frailty in the otherwise powerful looking nobleman.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara nods guardedly. 

I'll fight to defend this city. I'm not willing to share everything but everything relevant to that? I'll be subject to whatever divinations you need me to, but in return, with the power and influence that house Wayne still has, that you haven't thrown away by coming back and accepting the status quo under house James, I want you to do whaat you can to help the Justicars. To ensure there's someone at the top who'll make it hard for a new corrupt boss o be shuffled in each time one is found out, and to do what you can to help me identify both those who are willingly corrupt, and those who put so much pressure on other members of the justicars.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanie giggled in a manner restrained, never accepting nor denying she had a chance to win their way into restricted areas. The trick, my dear Oracle, is to only ever speak the truth. Then what have we to fear of wards? But you hardly need me for that. So Im fine with browsing some libraries with you for about three hours or so, but any longer and Ill have to pull a Dark Knight. Smokesticks and all. We all know Harvey, the woman continued, and from the quirk of her mouth and the glitter in sapphire eyes, found only amusement to the terror of the underworlds revealed name, took off on two silvery wings, into the night sky, as the Gotham heavyweight champion for all things arm candy hanging off his wrists. That innocuous little getaway wasnt even a day ago. I can have his location secured before sunrise, and do the rounds after. Cobblepot and co will be knocking on Dent's front door, and Gotham has one less rogue Lord in the meanwhile. But the longer neglected, the more miserly the trail. 

Stephanie left out that there was also a tasty price tag attached to the location of Lord Dent, and not simply because it was unclear what to do with any extra windfall. While the Banking High Lord wasnt good for Gotham, she had yet to hear anyone complain Cobblepot wasnt great for payday. 

Regardless, Your Grace has been very generous. The still unmasked woman patted the platinum sack on her lap like a loveable pet, and it made a reassuring clinking noise. It was hard not to wonder if the little hint of silver didnt add an extra clink to it. Lord Wayne had elected to go brood before the painting of his deceased parents, and she thought it a lonely stance, until his son was kind enough to copy him. Whether it was in the Narrows or high manors, children couldnt help but keep compassion as constant companions.

Even greatly strategic. Conceding ground to turn enemies towards indifference, funding mercenaries for proxy conflicts, reinvesting in the Merchants Guild to help Midtown flourish to its full and vibrant potential...

_While making yourself exceptionally rich,_ the thought was withheld. 

House Wayne could hold a masterclass on city wide tactics. So, Your Grace must be prioritising this particular monster, over all others, for some grand strategy? Or else, that the rule of law means protecting your people first. Stephanie supposed. 

The High Lord of Wayne Manor had revealed himself to be many things, and strategic philanthropist suffering through a childhood trauma werent anywhere near what the Gothamite expected. It was hard for her to still presume he chased the head of the werebeast for mere accolades. When the little boy with bushy eyebrows had mimicked his fathers stance out of a misshapen adoration, it was clear she hadnt even been right that Bruce was a negligent father. That only made the concern of where Damien had learned to apply poisons effortlessly more pressing. An obscure family, at best. They had either been the dedicated targets of cruel slander for years, or else, had intensely cloaked themselves in it to hide their movements. Stephanie frowned. A hustle was only good when on the right side of it. 

At any pace, Ill always fight for Gothams families. Honestly, finding Harvey is easy enough. Getting a reader for our Codex...isnt half the gauntlet you all might assume. From her near non-committal tone, Stephanie had a neighbour about five doors down that could do it, but getting them to would be a chore. But trusting near any noble at this point  thats the hard part. Especially when the highest expression of beauty is completely different between a singer or poet, to say nothing of a High Lord or prince. So let me not worry Your Grace that he'll suffer me for some sycophant. Ill agree to help if I understand and like but one thing first: 

Stephanie spoke less like a lucky peasant that had won her way into the Manor, riding on the robes and tabard of the wizard and knight, so much as the singular representative of the mistreated people of the city itself. What, ultimately, is the vision Your Grace has for Gotham?

----------


## Molan

*"Fair enough. My vision, so much as it is, is to defeat the corruption that's gripped this city. My vision is to expel the criminal gangs and overpowered noble houses that have brought it so low. My vision is to give the people of Gotham hope again. If we can break up the criminal gangs and break up some of the larger monopolies the houses exert, and diffuse power back to the common people once again, this city will have a chance to thrive. I want the rule of law to command Gotham again, not the rule of favors. That, my friends, is my vision."*

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate cheers.  This is more than she could have hoped for!

----------


## JbeJ275

Barabara looks intently at the Wayne Lord while he gives this little speech. Its the right words, the words shes wanted to hear for a long time but words are cheap, especially those of a lord said in his own house to those who he has no reason to think are more than adventurers. Shell have to keep watching and see if future actions line up with them.

For a second she considers what Stephanie said. That the Wayne withdrawal might have been a feint to set things up better. A gambit avoid drawing out the assassination attempts and forged evidence of crimes until he was in a better position. If he was telling the truth it was the best way to connect what he said with what little hes done so far, but thats a big if indeed. Not to mention it was odd to wait so long and do so little before striking, she previously would have assigned it to laziness, but the man seems so driven in person. On reflection its more likely this isnt his first attempt, just another iteration or expansion. Would they then be called in to escalate the fight? Or to replace sponsored vigilantes whod died on one mission or another?

No, she had too little information to truly support any of this. But so far coin had backed his frontman Foxs and so his word was worth more than nothing. On the other hand if he had been bankrolling Fox then he probably ought to know her identity, it would have been a nigh absolute failure of intelligence gathering to not have Fox promise to pass along that sort of thing. And frankly shes rather work for someone who pressed others to break confidence than someone unwilling to do that. Unless he had some other hold on Fox?

Regardless of the swirling suspicions they were getting her no-where. So for the moment she just nodded at his words, and his promise to attack the institutions of corruption in their city.

----------


## Molan

Seeing that the his pitch had -- for the time being -- landed, he turned to face the cart he'd been leaning on. Damien went with him, and the two of them pushed it towards the edge of the table where everyone could see it. Bruce and Damien both worked to undo it's iron latches and several compartments opened wide, splaying out before them and revealing an assortment of items inside. Damien worked several more latches beneath the table and opened several drawers.

*"As a token of my goodwill, and courtesy of our contracts with the Merchants' Guild, I've assembled some equipment I think might help you on this journey. I hope with some of this you'll see that I'm ready to put my money where my mouth is."*

Having said that, he reached into the cart, removing three of the items and placing them heavily on the table.

*"For Dame Kane."* Bruce said, nodding towards Kate.

There were three objects there; the first was a thick black leather belt, studded with iron, and equipped with six small item pouches on either side. It's metal pieces sort of clanked against one another as he laid them on the table. Next to them was a pair of leather gloves, also black, matching Kate's armor. The third item was a coil of rope, no thicker than a wand, but wound tightly and constantly _almost_ moving, as if it wanted to leap off of the table, but couldn't.

*Spoiler: Bruce's Gifts for Kate*
Show

You've been given a Belt of Giant's Strength +4, which has six item pouches attached to it. You've also received a pair of Gloves of Titan's Grip, which are psionic in nature, and a Rope of Climbing.


He reached into the cart and retrieved two more items; one large and one very small. The first was an incredibly heavy, thick book covered in arcane sigils, the second was a small ring.

*"For the Oracle."*

*Spoiler: Bruce's GIfts for Oracle*
Show

Bruce has given you a spellbook, every page of which is filled with new spells for you to transcribe. Alongside it is a lacquered red pine case filled with the materials you need to transcribe the spells into your own spellbook, and a new, fresh, untouched spellbook for when your current one inevitably runs out of room (the main gift has 100 pages worth of spells transcribed.) In this way, transcribing them will be free, not counting the timing involved.

He's also gifted you a Ring of Counterspells.


From one of the side compartments, Bruce retrieved a familiar item -- it was the same style of magical, rope-spewing grappling rod that Damien had used in the vaults. Next to that he placed a broad leather belt, studded with three moonstones. But from the drawers he revealed quite a bit more -- several official looking papers, and three different outfits fit for a Gotham noblewoman, complete with jewelry.

*"I thought that this might help you, Steph."*

*Spoiler: Bruce's Gifts for Spoiler*
Show

Bruce presents you with a Healing Belt, a Rod of Ropes to match Damien's, and a set of Noble's Clothes and papers establishing a false identity; that of "Robin McGuiness".


*"I've already taken the necessary steps to indicate House Wayne has adopted another stray noble; Robin of House McGuiness. This way if you need to force your way into more exclusive settings, you should have an easier time. People'll think poorly of me, but that's nothing new. Hopefully you can do a decent highborne accent."*

It seemed as if the gift-giving was over, but then, to each person's surprise, most of all Damien's he reached into the second side compartment, revealing three more items.

*"These are for you. You still have a way to go before you've mastered your abilities, but I'm proud of how far you come. and I want you to help us end this nightmare."*

Bruce lays out three objects; a Ring made up of tiny prongs, wires, and other small devices, a pair of elegant, black leather boots, and a simple black belt, made from the same material as Damien's gi.

*Spoiler: Bruce's Gifts for Damien*
Show

Bruce has given you a Ring of Lockpicking, a pair of Boots of Elvenkind, and a Monk's Belt. The Monk's Belt increases your Ninja AC bonus by 1, but you cannot add your Wisdom score twice, so it's a total +1 bonus. It also upgrades your unarmed damage to 1d8, but it does not confer the Improved Unarmed Strike feat.


*"In addition to this equipment, I want you to consider me at your disposal. If you can help me track down the monster, I'm willing to support you any way I can. We have a ship docked here at the island, for one thing. And, as much as our standing within the city's politics has declined, we still have some strings we can pull. This Castle is a refuge; if you need a place to go, our gates are always open. Let me know what you need, and it's yours.*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

So at this point, we basically just need to sort out next steps. It's almost night time, you guys have a lot on your plate. So I think we just need to come up with a consensus on whether you guys are going to stick together or split up, which side missions are getting worked first, ect. We can talk it out in OOC if we need to. What are you thinking?

----------


## JoyWonderLove

The bevvy of gifts were brought over to the table before Stephanie. The moonstones in the brown belt held the torchlight like meteors burning hot in the earth, and the sharp black teak rod had an onyx sheen she could have been convinced had been hewn not an hour ago. But it was the crisp parchment that her eyes were drawn to, and roamed over in growing disbelief. After a moment, she stared back at the misunderstood nobleman in utter wonderment, winning out over her confusion.  

_A ship. They even have an actual ship. Verena needs saving, far more than Harvey needs finding, but these papers absolutely arent meant for me. They know. Somehow..._ 

Sionis Manor. Stephanie offered after a pause. Thats how you get your Archmage, or High Priest. Whatever is hiding in that hole, its a big enough hornets nest that it needs to be actively guarded by Cobblepot men, if not a few Justiciars as well. I got the tip from someone that knows Gotham better than anyone at this table. The rogue had deliberately avoided saying room, more than pampering the ego of their host, as out of growing suspicion the prince had a spy network half the size of the metropolis, or else talented diviners on command. Theyre convinced its a big enough scandal that threatening to take it to the press could persuade Lord James himself.

Letting go of that tip was a tantamount to throwing away a key to a fortune at least three times the worth what Wayne had paid them. Stephanie could have done a great deal with that beyond securing a wizard to read a chained up book. But her gifts had been selected with an incredibly unerring thoughtfulness, and she had no greater way to show her buy into taking down the abomination. The paperwork in front of her was rolled up with wholehearted care, aware of what had been offered.  

We learn whats down there, and then attend Lord James, or whoever else. We gain a high class guest to assist with a private matter, and they gain an agreeable silence. Not quite the rule of law yet, but its our strongest hand. For tonight, though, Id like to attempt South Channel Isle instead. Getting Verenas the priority; but Ill inform my friend of the good news, too. 

The rolled up scrolls were wagged with a playfully defeated air about the blonde, eyes half lidded as Stephanie eyed the influential prince. He seemingly knew her better than some in House Kyle.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien, for a good minute or so, is unable even to express gratitude, he is so brattishly engrossed in the gifts - a child not used to receiving them, revelling in their receipt.  Lying on his back and wriggling an upright foot into one of the boots, he looks upside down to his father, and grins.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara largely had tunes out everything being said, a few things had been caught and even without the re-assurance provided by her divinations she was quickly becoming sure that the lord in front of them knew much much more than he was letting on and was one of the more astute liars and powerbroker's she'd ever encountered. If that were true and he'd not chosen to try for the power needed to take back the city directly that was a bad sign. All the worse given he could at this point be assumed to know who she was. 

Carefully she examined the magic items presented to her, then placed the ring atop the spellbook and slid them back across the table. Then stood and walked to the door, the library suddenly feeling unbearably oppressive, she had no chance of saying anything without breaking down in one way or another so instead forced herself to steady her breathing and pet Juluis as he fluttered inside his deep pocket in reaction to her own forced down panic.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate scoops up her belt and gloves, nods in thanks, and follows Barbara. 

When they are alone, she asks"Do you want to talk?  I feel like I missed something important and I need to be sure you are alright." 

This is the first time Kate has been in civilian clothes in front of any of them.  The dress would be far more modest without the panels cut out for her natural spines, but it is still drab and functional.  She is incongruous wearing a sun hat to cover her otherwise bald head.

----------


## Molan

Bruce smiled down at Damien, but then frowned as Oracle pushed her gifts back across the table and left. He turned back to face Alfred and Stephanie, and a long, awkward silence held over the room. Eventually he sighed.

*"Well that's unfortunate."*

*"Shall I go after her?"* Alfred asked.

Bruce shook his head, barely suppressing a frown while Stephanie happily munched on her meal and sipped her wine, her eyes watching his every motion.

*"Well, in any case, Steph, feel free to stay at the Castle as long as you like. If you need to return to Gotham or intend to make for South Channel Island on your own, my household is at your disposal. There's a carriage waiting to take you back to Midtown or Downtown if you so desire, and my ship is still at the ready. If either of them decides to come back, or if you all decide not to take me up on my quest to destroy the monster, I'll still have the ship and carriage ready and waiting for you. Either way."*

He looked down at Damien, who stared back up at him expectedly.

*"Damien, Alfred, I'd like to speak to both of you...downstairs. In about ten minutes."*

Damien nodded eagerly, and Alfred bowed, standing up.

*"Very well sir. Ten minutes."*

He turned towards Stephanie, bowing again.

*"It was genuinly a pleasure...perhaps I should say, 'Lady McGuiness'?"* he smiled. *"At any rates I am deeply thankful for your timely rescue. I hope I'll see you again, before too long."*

With that, Alfred left the room through a side door, and Damien soon followed suit. Bruce lingered a few more moments, staring idly at the door Kate and Oracle had exited through, before finally nodding back to Spoiler. 

*"Steph."* he said, before stepping out and following Alfred and Damien, closing the door behind him.

*Spoiler: Damien Only*
Show

Down in the great cavern under the island, far below Wayne Castle, Damien and Alfred made themselves at home in the armory. Damien practiced his forms, striking, kicking and flipping around in space while Alfred tinkered with his newest creations. It was peaceful, the sound of their work drowned out by the roar of the distant waterfall and the occasional squeaks and screeches of bats flitting unseen, somewhere up above. The platform was suspended in space by large chains that stretched away into the dark distance, and it was affixed with stairs and bridges that led it to other platforms and levels, forming a partially suspended, hidden, underground complex. Not long after they'd arrived, they heard a cool, smooth voice speak from behind them.

*"So where's the old man?"*

Damien spun around as Richard walked onto their platform and into the torchlight. He was dressed in mostly all black, and wore no armor, but had a single shield affixed to his left shoulder, with his blue bird of prey sigil emblazoned across it. His hair was jet black and somewhat long, and was tied back behind his head, and his handsome features wore a sly, ever-confident grin.

Damien jumped up to meet him, but Alfred turned around first, having apparently heard him coming.

*"Ah. Good evening, Master Grayson."*

*"Not you old man, the other old man."* Richard quipped.

*"I'm here."* Came another voice from the darkness.

Bruce stepped into the torchlight of the armory from the other side of the platform, looking a little stiff and tired, but otherwise fine. Still, Richard frowned.

*"Are you still limping?"* he said.

*"Quiet. I'm fine."* Bruce said curtly. He didn't mean it to sound caustic, and his tone had a bit of affection for Richard couched in it, but he clearly didn't want to talk about having been hurt in the first place.

*"Any news from upstairs, Master Wayne?"* Alfred asked.

*"Not yet."* he said, shaking his head.

*"Are you sure we should even be doing this, then? I feel like Alfred, Damien and I are plenty of trouble all on our own. And you haven't fought your last battle yet either. Why bring them in at all? If the High Lords find out what we've been up to..."*

*"I know what the risks are, Richard."* Bruce replied calmly. *"But I'm telling you, we really don't have much choice. We need more firepower, and these three are one of the strongest leads I've had in a while."*

*"Okay, but are you really sure we can trust them?"*

*"Listen. I know Dame Kane. Sure, her parentage is a little -- offputting -- but at this point do you know any noble family in Gotham who hasn't fooled around with illegal arcana in some form or another?"*

*"Well, I mean, this one."* Richard shot back. Bruce ignored him.

*"Kate Kane fought the orcs. Her legion fought the Sovereign Barons and the Duergar separatists. She was knighted when she was twelve--"*

*"And she was an Imperial Ranger, let's not forget."* Alfred interjected, sounding more than a bit proud.

*"--exactly. But more than that, I knew her grandfather. He served my father for many years. We can trust her."*

*"Sure, but..."*

*"AND, the other two came well vetted, trust me."*

*"Are you sure you know who they are? Like who they truly are?"* Damien added.

Bruce snorted, sounding amused.

*"Spoiler's made of a bit of a name for herself in the low quarters. It's a small name, but it's growing. And our friend in The Narrows says she's talented...and trustworthy. As for Oracle, well...just trust me."*

Richard sighed, but it was clear he didn't have much more appetite to argue with Bruce, and they had more pressing matters ahead of them.

*"Alright, if you're sure, then we trust you."*

*"Did your trip to Bludhaven yield any fruit?"* Alfred asked.

*"Breadcrumbs."* Richard replied. *"But I have a few leads to chase down now. I'm gonna try to visit Tetch tomorrow night. That miserly little gnome's got to have some solid info for us, I'm sure of it."*

*"Tetch!?"* Alfred blanched. *"You can't go up there! The Tetch's are aligned with--"* but Richard waves his hand.

*"I know, I know Alfred. Don't worry about me. I'll be careful. Plus more than that, I'll be quiet. I'll get the blighter to talk, no worries."*

*"Tetch is dangerous."* Bruce agreed. *"Be careful out there."*

Richard smiled and nodded.

*"Will do."*

*"Well now what are we going to do, then?"* Damien asked, bringing them back to reality.

*"We're going to keep looking for Harvey Dent and that Cypher."* Bruce replied. *"And hope that our erstwhile friends upstairs decide to change their minds about aligning with us."*

*"Okay...and....if they don't?"* he said, this time a bit quieter.

Bruce looked solemnly up at the dark cavernous ceiling above them, his face inscrutable.

*"Well, if they don't..."* he said quietly. *"Then may St. Cuthbert stay his vengeance."*

As the words left his mouth, Alfred, Damien and Richard all became very quiet. Even the bats stopped squeaking. Silence enveloped them like the shadows, swirling all around.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay this works, I had thought I needed to do a big transition post to move the party to South Channel Island, but Barbara's frustrations with Wayne make sense. So I'll hold off on that and let this play out.

----------


## JbeJ275

> Kate scoops up her belt and gloves, nods in thanks, and follows Barbara. 
> 
> When they are alone, she asks"Do you want to talk?  I feel like I missed something important and I need to be sure you are alright." 
> 
> This is the first time Kate has been in civilian clothes in front of any of them.  The dress would be far more modest without the panels cut out for her natural spines, but it is still drab and functional.  She is incongruous wearing a sun hat to cover her otherwise bald head.


When Kate walks through the door, barbara has a copper piece in hand and is beginning to move her hands in a gesture akin to spellcasting while facing the door she'd just walked to, but when Kate emerges she steps back quickly, and guiltily slips the small coin away. Then she lets out a breath before speaking, her first words coming out slowly and uncertinly.

"Look, it's just a lot of this stuff that I can't really.. look. It's like, when you were in the military, if you'd seen everyone you trained with and who trained you and who you'd known fighting, and some of the best ones... they'd died at the beginning, before you could even remember it. And you'd been waiting for another army to come over the hill and maybe not to win everything but to just give you a chance to breath, to speak to the people who were on the front lines, and to domething over than fight or get ready to fight. nd then they didn't, they sat there and got drunk when they were so close, when the could have given you a chance to win the fight so many died for. And now you think that maybe they were letting you keep fighting, so you couldn't argue with them after they won he fight or so it looked like they won the fight alone. And you'd put so much into this fight but haven't had to go on the front lines because people have went in your place, died sometimes in your place... and now maybe he's finally staarting the fight and just wants you to be part of it but maybe he knows that the people leading your army care bout you and wants you to make sure they can't do anything... and maybe.... and you can't know whether it's all a trap or not because the people who were looking after you caan't anymore, the fight has got too bad and you can't make things worse for them. "

As she spoke she got quicker and quicker, and began pacing at first up and down he corridor but then heading more away and less far back each time, steadily spiralling into panic and increasingly looking like she might just walk out in panic.

----------


## Feathersnow

"I see.  This is about Cousin Bruce.  You don't trust him. And he's given you little reason to do so."

She pauses.

"Frankly, you're right.  I have no idea what he does all day or if it has an connection to the duties attending his station.  I kind of doubt it, honestly."

"Here's the thing... he bothered to learn who we are and tried to help.   That's more than anyone, and more than I expected.  His help, limited as it is, as unworthy as he seems,  is an edge. It might be the edge we need to win.  That's how we have to look at it."

----------


## JbeJ275

"I know that, I really do, that for Steph and maybe for you as well he's the right thing, the right side to pick. And Damien was on his side as well, that much goes without saying.. but well look."

With that Oracle took Kate by the arm and led her away, down a few twisting corridors and into a secre passage just off the great hall where she could be surer that they wouldn't be overheard. Once there, she slips her mask up, reveaing her face as Barbara Gordon, heir to justicar's keep beneth.

"Look, I get it I really do. I get that he's the best chance this city has had in years, his influence and his money. I don't really get why he can't do it openly though, not when the indifference of those at the top is what's causing the problems below it. If he cared like this, enough to really work at it and give us an edge why wait this long? The justicars who try and hold true are under more pressure every day, and still he's just been waiting while the only people defending the city are those few justicars fighting against daily threats and unable to trust those they work with and a few half mad vigilantes. My... my mother and my father died because they wanted this city to be held by the good guys, not by the guys with the biggest purses, because they took a stand for that. My mom and my dad have been fighting the same battle with half the numbers since the day I came into their lives, and making sure I was ready to take up that fight as well. I can work with Wayne if i need to, take contracts from his guild and his house to keep things going, but I'm not putting myself in his debt. Not becoming one of his soildiers, I'm not putting down the last hope of good men leading this city, openly and in the light, as Wayne seems so eager to see happen."

----------


## Feathersnow

"The truth is, I don't know the answers to your questions,  or if they are good ones.  It scares me."

"For me, it's always been easy.  I can't really hide.  Fighting is my only real option, and he us helping me do that."

----------


## JbeJ275

I know, and Im willing to help him fight this thing. But this is feeling more and more like entering into his service rather than just having him as a contact. I can over myself enough to work for the man on a job or two, but Im not willing to be one of his soldiers until I find out a lot more.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Huh. No point me coming all the way here then. Stephanie strolled into the study, glancing around the room with the same two she had met not even a week ago. It had proven itself awkward, tracking those that were supposedly as clueless as her a fair distance around the massive manor. The heavy imprints of Kates on the carpets, coiled with the murmurings servants had heard, capped with a rough idea of what she knew of them. Harder than she expected, given how tiny their head-start. The sooner Harvey and Verena were found, the better. I thought Id have to pep-talk that you only agreed to hear the guy out and to consider Verena above politics, but you two sound leagues ahead of me. As per.

Stephanie seemed amused with her last little line, despite hunting them down long hallways and dim lighting that invited brooding, and knowing they had little clue of her connections to the Cat. Flimsy as it was. The eternal flame torch ignited in her hands as quickly as an overeager lover, its brightness throwing back the gloom. There was a painting of a great many of the Wayne patriarchs above a table fit for two, the likeness of each noble taking a decisive stride out of the blur of the one before. It featured many she didnt recognize save Bruce himself, and had no showing of little Damien. 

Totally with you that blue blood knows way more about us than we know about him. Cant speak for you two, but my gifts were pretty thoughtful. Any more tailored and Id be worried the guy measured me in my sleep. His spies definitely dug through our trash. Still, weird kinda compliment that we all made it here despite the intrusion, right? 

Stephanie appeared untroubled by the skullduggery, despite not having any of the new gear on her person. A small sign of solidarity with the academic heiress. The door was closed deliberately behind her before she continued. 

Anyway, the Wayning one claims hes all in on supporting us if we take down that monster, and Im gonna test it. Nigma is meant to have a huge network of spies himself, but Im clueless about how thick the weeds are out there. If either of you know anything about House Nigma, that could make a huge difference between saving Verena, or me needing help myself. From how she spoke, Stephanie didnt presume they shared her priorities tonight. One was an oddly cosy dress and night-time sun-hat wearing, inverted iron maiden knight that had revealed herself to be Kate. But Barbara was tackling her own doubts and demons, and there was no push from Stephanies side for the brunette to feel ready for anything before she actually was. Tonight the rogue might operate solo. 

Besides, there were enough people around when Fox found out about the blackmail that Id rather not assume Nigma is clueless. Me asking around Midtown to get Verenas description would ping their web, too. So Ill be asking Wayne if I could buy some items from his Guild to prep for getting Verena out, but more, if he could send counter intelligence in the meantime. Stir up a distraction to drag as many eyes off the area as possible, or else spread misinformation. Maybe even claim Fox is leaving the captain to figure it out solo for betraying the Merchants, so they wont see a rescue effort coming. His Grace is a strategist; hell know better than me, and its all his decision anyway. Stephanie little sounded convinced of any espionage aid. It was entirely possible bigger issues occupied the princes personnel, and he would have no one to spare even if he wanted to. He had sought out the three of them precisely because he needed trustworthy people, after all. 

But South Channel is filled with everything not approved of by Estannas faithful, so Ill be heading over disguised as a tourist seeking some freaky in the figs. Its the easiest way to blend in. I dont need a description of Verena to find my friend, and shell know enough that I can decide to either move forward, or lay low. Not perfect, but its a beginning. Are you two taking tonight off? It sounded more like an invitation than a question.   

*Spoiler: Downtime*
Show



Buy items if possible, ask for counter-intelligence assistance if available from Bruce Wayne, take 20 (1 hour) to get a disguise as a tourist seeking fun, and set sail for South Channel Island. Ill gladly delay if anyone else is interested, but otherwise lets go.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Steph... going with you right now sounds great I'll go and get my stuff. I had a bit of a breakthrough on a spell I've been studying for a while last night, that might help us confirm or deny whatever results you can get. I'll go and grab the stuff from the room and head out, I'll wait at the front door for you to grab talk with Wayne and find me."

With that she reattatches her mask, and heads off to gather her things and leave the buiding.

----------


## Molan

_== SOUTH CHANNEL ISLAND ==_



*Spoiler: Damien Only*
Show

Bruce, Alfred, Richard and Damien finished their meeting down in the "basement". As they migrated their way -- each taking separate paths back to the castle -- to the main hall. Alfred bowed and excused himself, Richard vanished to his own wing of the fortress. Before they left the hall, Bruce turned to face his diminutive ward.

*"Did you have any questions about anything you've seen tonight?"* he asked.

Damien shrugged.

*"Not really. Do you really think Richard is going to be able to shake anything loose out of the Tetch's?"*

*"Honestly, no. And I warned him against going -- the gnomes are more dangerous than they appear. But..."* he sort of shrugged. *"Richard's tenacious, and he's more than capable. It's worth a shot. One day, your skills will be up to his; you may even surpass him."*

Damien snorted.

*"Uh, are you sure that hasn't happened already?"* To underscore his point, he popped off several swift forms to demonstrate his ability.

*"Quite sure."* Bruce said with a smile. *"But regardless, you did a great job heading out on your own at the Vaults. I want you to keep working with the mercenaries we recruited. I think it'll be important for you to keep spreading your legs and figuring out how to work with a group."*

*"I guess..."* Damien said, looking disappointed. *"Wouldn't it be better if I stuck with you? Whatever you're doing's gotta be a lot more important than what they've got on their plates."*

Bruce remained quiet, but shook his head.

*"Trust me, Damien. I mean it. It'll be good for you. And we need you."*

Damien sighed. 

*"Ugh. Fine. Just as long as I don't get left out when it's time to nuke that monster."*

Bruce just smiled. Before he could say anything, Stephanie walked back into the Hall.


*Spoiler: Spoiler and Damien Only*
Show

Stephanie found her way back to the main hall, lured to the sound of Bruce and Damien's voices.

*"Pardon lord prince Wayne. Overheard you two from down the hall. Listen, I can't pretend that everything's all hunky dory with the rest of the gang, but we're ready to humbly accept your offer of a boat. We're gonna go after that lass Verena on South Channel Island. After that...who knows. Lots to do, lots to figure out."*

If Bruce was disappointed, he didn't show it, instead nodding graciously.

*"Well, fair enough. A deal's a deal, a promise is a promise. Is there anything else I can get you before you depart?"*

*"Mmm, not sure if I can think of anything..."*

*"I can."* Damien interjected. *"Now that Fox is opening up the Arcane vendors again, I kind of wanted to go and blow some of the commission he paid us."*

*"Ooooh, that's actually a good idea. Any chance we can place some orders, or...?"*

*"Actually, yes."* Bruce said. *"The vendors still aren't open yet, it hasn't even been forty eight hours since you left he Vaults. But, go ahead and give me a list of what you need and pass over the money, and we'll run a courier out while you're away. I should have it by the time you return."*


Bruce led the shaky, fractured group out of the Castle and through the grounds of Wayne Island, passing through the overgrown gardens and past a series of smaller secondary buildings in the shadow of the gloomy evening, until they eventually were led down a slope towards the docks on the west side of the island, in the East River. Down at the dock, a single sailing ship was moored; it was hard to tell exactly what class of vessel it was. It shared characteristics with a cog, a dromon and a cruising yacht; it was a design none of them had quite seen before. When they got on, Bruce introduced them to a gloomy skeleton crew manning the vessel. The crewmen were dressed in all black, and they wore thick scarves and hoods, obscuring most of their faces. Bruce gave his instructions, ordering the crew to take the party anywhere they needed to go, before turning towards the party.

*"I wish you all luck. I'll make sure to procure the items you ordered. This ship will take you to South Channel Island, and wait for you as long as you need. I hope you'll consider my request for your aid at some point. For now, we'll continue our monster hunt alone. I hope you all find the girl you're looking for and return her to her father."*

With that, he left. The crew slowly moved the vessel out into the East River, and Wayne Island slowly began to shrink behind them, though it never quite shrank away from looming over the skyline. 

The ship moved up the East River against the current, pushed along by a gentle wind from the channel, and eventually turned west, heading along the South Channel. During their northern journey, the great islands of the city; Downtown and Midtown specifically, loomed bright and large to their port side. On the starboard, the fertile lands of the Farm Lords Pastures slumbered, much darker and quieter. One of the great manses actually sat along the banks of the river, a massive, gothic glass and iron greenhouse leaning out off the side of the manor over the water, with green faerie fire lighting it from inside.

The ship was more unique than even just it's design. It had few above-deck lamps, and all of the lanterns were hooded and covered with red glass to reduce how much light would carry across the water. The sails were a mottled dark greyish color with blots of black, as though ink had bled all throughout them, and upon close inspection, the shadowy vessel itself appeared to be made of solid Darkwood, making it spectacularly expensive. Further inspection yielded yet further novelties. The wheel, rigging, and sales themselves all appeared magically enchanted, even to an untrained eye. The cabin's quarters, which were nice and well furnished, contained what looked like a magical desk and a magical -- but blank -- map inside of them. The main deck featured a pair of light ballistae, one pointing towards either side, and a third was perched near the vessel's stern, this one mounted on a rotating platform. Was this a yacht, or a ship of war?

The crew was incredibly well disciplined and silent, and they worked with barely any calls or communication at all. As they passed in between Midtown and Uptown through the South Channel, they were pressed in close to either shore, the stacked, tall, dark buildings leaning over them, but the vessel cut through the water as stealthily as a cat on a rooftop, stalking it's prey.

Eventually, South Channel Island appeared in front of them. It was dark, darker than the rest of the city, with looking unlikt forests of trees dominating most of what they could see rather than oil and faerie fire lamps. But near the eastern most tip of the island, there was at least some light -- and it looked magical in nature. They could eventually see what appeared to be the makings of a sort of elven village; and by the sounds of it, it was thick in nighttime revelry.

When the ship docked, they weren't greeted by any dockworkers, and the shadowy crew let them off without a word, simply preparing the vessel to depart again once ordered. The four of them made their way down the docks, into the small hamlet, to see what the fay island had in store for them.

The hamlet seemed odd after spending so much time in the metropolis of gotham city; it was small, but for this time of night, remarkably well trafficked. The buildings had sloped roofs that looked nothing like any of the other architecture in the city, and many were painted with garish colors or illuminated with shifting arcane patterns. There were open air bars and carts and some of the buildings were actually just semi-permanent looking tents, where strange figures peddled all manner of wares. As they passed through, it was hard not to feel like they were unnoticed by the crowed, and yet each member of the party simultaneously felt as though there were eyes upon them. It looked like there had been plenty of halflings, gnomes, humans, half orcs and other species who'd showed up to party that night. Drugs were being consumed openly, and some of the buildings were temples to the fey elven gods, which appeared to double as festhalls and even brothels. People danced and cavorted, and prestidigitation spells were fired off into the air in swirling, bursting colorful patterns. It was, in short, a bit of mayhem.

*"We might need to try and socialize,"* Spoiler suggested. *"The Nigma's are elves. Someone on this island's got to know something about who might work for them."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, so, I may not have gotten absolutely everything right in that transition but...we're here! Right now you're in a market / party scene, think burning man meets new orleans meets a turkish bazaar. Some people are partying a bit too hard to make them much use, but there are plenty of people here who might be of use to you.

I leave it to you to figure out what kinds of buildings, events or people you want to search out and what skills you want to deploy. Based on your feedback, I'll give you results and we can start exploring this place.

Keep in mind that there are a few vendors here -- they're mostly selling food, drugs and alcohol but it's highly likely that arcana will also be on sale as it's already rampantly on display. Let me know your thoughts!

If I skipped over anything major or slighted anyone please let me know in advance.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Disguises For All! Also, Damien RVP*
Show

 

My disguise kit is open to anyone that wants to use it for a +2. Also, I can easily Aid Another you for another +2. Also-also-also, Damien was offered the colours of a red doublet and green trousers so we can always go omg oh wow look thats where the real Robin disguise came from, or not (unless hes already Robin). The rest of the disguise also works perfectly.  



=*South of My Inhibition, North of My Common Sense*=

Stephanie eyed the Farm Lord pastures, and the greenhouse overhanging the South Channel river in particular, with interest as they passed by silently. Adjusting the crossbow hanging off her shoulder strap to a more comfortable position, she glanced over at Kate, but eyes settled on Damien with the utmost feigned seriousness in the end.

Okay, for this mission, better we all blend in with the festivities. Kneeling down, she opened up a nondescript black rucksack burrowed from the room she slept in, and revealed a surprising amount of folded clothes on the left side, with make up and accessories mostly on the right. The whole martial artists gi and black chic are great normally, not so much where were going. So Damien, for you, I was thinking these green trousers and red doublet are a must. Beyond that, it pays to play into the party scene. Do you want these adorable cat ears, and for me to paint lots of teeny weeny whiskers on you? Or would you rather the domino bat mask and squeaky whistle that comes with? We have to look authentic here.  

The hint of a wry smile broke through a face artfully painted in the rainbow hues and eyeshadow of a veteran reveller, toned midriff and arms freely on display. But Stephanie kept the purple gloves, and matched them with her short sleeved top and trousers. Her half up braid was crowned with a lilac flower that she liberated from an estate vase. Gone were her black half mouth mask, leather armour, or even the purple boots of the past two nights, replaced with green sandals. Her neck felt oddly exposed without the usual silver holy symbol, but she had already offered a silent prayer before a living hearth that the captains daughter be brought safely back to her family. It had been left comfortably seated before the flame, as when she slept earlier. Blue rope, crossbow bolts, and her gifted sai hung off her waist. Only naive tourists ever went to the island defenceless, given inhibitions were low, and the law being that of the land. 

You should also decide if you want to hold Miss Kate or Auntie Oracles hand while were there, okay? Its a loud scary place and we dont want you wandering off again. It was decided before leaving the estate that, if this was their last time working with House Wayne, it might also be the last time to get any fill of sass in. When their sleekly bulky hybrid ship docked, she appeared pleased at the lively hamlet, an excited energy on her now. 

_Now this is more her scene._

Im gonna search around for an hour or so. Expect me to return back to the main area between bouts, so we can swap bits of intel if needed. Stephanie gave her friends description again: fey-touched human singer brunette with great eyes. Robyn always knows her local scene intimately. We find my girl, we find our woman. If you think you see her, say you dont wanna spoil her fun, but Steph is looking to pick up another bard. Gauge the reaction. If its not her, play it off. Simple. It was an obvious hint to the last message Robyn had left her weeks ago, but they little needed to know that. Oh! And try to have _actual_ fun tonight. Youll completely wreck our cover if you dont. 

The woman winked, before Stephanie strolled away to the hamlet while humming merrily, seemingly sure few supernatural threats were interested in her at the party scene, despite feeling watched. She goes and buys a drink first, ordering a Green Eyed Monster from the vendor, and offering to cover the costs for anyone else that accompanied her. The bright neon green slushy had a honeyed taste to it, masking the alcohol remarkably well. Next she immediately goes and picks up some Passion tabs from her friendly local drug dealer, asking for the best place to hear a singer around here. She claimed to be around for at least two days. Eyeing the three rosy pink tabs in her hand approvingly afterwards, she seemingly second-guessed putting one into her mouth as she sipped her drink again. 

The square tabs were slid into a back pocket as she went off to the recommended spot, or at least the first temple dedicated to song to start gathering information. Asking if any singer was particularly good at Robyns favourite, _Narrow Mind, Open Heart_, and other such hints, were the key to honing in without tipping off her interests. 

*Spoiler: actions, Take 10 Gather Info & Bluff to blend in, not sure theres time to Take 20 Disguise*
Show



When we arrive, buy a drink (Green Eyed Monster) and then a drug called Passion (not sure if thats a dnd thing in the books, but I guess it might be?) and then start my search either where the drug dealer suggest or in an eleven temple of song to find a certain bard. Urban Tracking check if relevant, or a Gather Information check if not. Use disguise kit 1 more time; the disguise kit is open to anyone that wants to use it. 8/10 uses remain if no one else touches it. 

Disguise, Take 10/20: *25* or *34*. (depending on if I have an hour to spare, +5 minor changes & +2 disguise kit use regardless)
Finding Robyn, Take 10: *28*.
Bluff as needed to blend in, Take 10. *26*. 
Knowledge Local on SCI, Take 10: *20*.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien is a little sullen, for the boat ride.  Its not hidden that he had no affinity for the water; keeping clear of the boats edges and showing no curiosity for the chop of the water.  But he barely rises to any of Spoilers needling with more than a scowl, taking the offered red and green peasant clothes with no articulated complaint, and heading below deck to change; stuffing the pockets with shuriken, stowing most of his weapons in his pack.  A single gauntlet remained on one hand: the asymmetry looking like some kind of juvenile attempt at a fashion statement, as incomprehensible and vacant as most such gestures.

He uses the offered disguise kit, watching  Steph vanish into the party-core kaleidoscope and electing not to do the same. Instead, he opts for a stuck on moustache as black as his hair, and that short crop slicked back to his skull, and suddenly hes well.  If you werent looking too hard, you'd think you were looking at a halfling creepo.  Its probably fine.

I don't need hand holding.  Im a grown halfling man, thank-you-kindly.

That's the most kickback he gives to the sass.  Once on South Channel, he stuffs his hands into his pockets, pulls his shoulders forward, and pads off with little communication into the crowd, after StephÂs plan is announced and tacitly absorbed.

Damien didnt know this friend - but what he knew was that Lord Nigma was an elf who liked riddles.  So the child, looking like a halfling vagabond trying to impress someone with clean garish clothes, goes seeking games, or gambling, or wherever men compete with their minds.  Perhaps thatll offer something worth investigating.

*Spoiler*
Show

Taking that disguise kit use, and the assist, and the minor-changes bonus for a 19.

Actually its funnier if I roll.  *disguise* - (1d20+9)[*10*].

As for the Robin uniform, well.  Well see. ;). For now, at some point on the boat, Damien would have asked for the others to call him Scion in the field.  Thatll do for now!

Oh, and Damien is looking for games or contests.  If theyre around I imagine they are trying to be found, but I guess Ill roll something.  Um.  Maybe listen as he slinks around, trying to pick up snatches of conversation from the revellers that might point him in the right direction?  *listen* - (1d20+8)[*10*]

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate just won't blend into a crowd, but she can wear civvies...

Which gives her an idea.  "I'm not sure that you want me to help you look, honestly.   I think I'd just draw attention.  So I'm going to use this opportunity to do some shopping."

The elves were, at least according to stereotype, good at illusions.  It seemed unlikely the common knowledge would be completely off the mark.  Kate sets out looking for someone to glammer her armor. 

*Spoiler: OoC*
Show


I suppose this is gather information and a 13 won't cut it, so I'm going to try to roll
(1d20+3)[*18*]
If successful, this roll will help me find the illusionist armorsmith alluded to in the other thread

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Damien wanders into the bazaar, milling around as merry-goers and tourists party in between the tents and glowing pastel buildings and multicolored tents. No one payed much attention to him; either his disguise was working or no one here really cared if children wandered through the gathering. It wasn't long before he saw a pair of elf children scamper through one of the crowds. Damien idly wondered if they were like, fifty years old, given how small they were.

It took him a while to find what he was looking for, but after a bit of digging and listening really closely through the din of live music, he thought he heard the sound of coins being exchanged that he was looking for.

A massive tent, 50 feet or more on a side, was bustling with activity. The silhouettes of a dozen or more creatures moved back and forth within, arguing and shouting in various languages. The chink of money changing hands was unmistakable. On the front of the tent, there was a cloth door with a slot that someone inside could peer through.


*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

After a short bit of searching, Kate found herself down by the southeast side of the hamlet, near the periphery alongside the darkened woods. She noticed what looked like fireflies or flashing lights occasionally flit between the trees, but when she tried to focus on them, they were always gone.

Up against the woodland was a long two story bungalow with a sloped elven roof, and multicolored lanterns hanging off it's sides from elegant chains. There was a sign over the top of the building, with the holy symbol of Sehanine Moonbow. It was a pretty common emblem among elf wizards. The back of the "house" was partially open, but it was expanded out into a pastel colored tent, and the right side of the building opened onto another covered, canopied area. Kate walked under the awning, to find an elegant, if disheveled arcane laboratory. Glowing potions were piled on a couple of desks, one elf lounged in a deep circular cushion, playing a lyre, with a glazed look in her eyes. On the other side, a young looking male elf hummed along with her, while idly working on inscribing silvery runes to a spell scroll on her writing desk. But sitting in the center of the "room" was a thick desk that seemed to grow out of the ground, covered in papers and several wands, behind which sat a somewhat elderly looking elf wizard, channeling energy into one of her new projects.

*"Can I help you?"* She said distractedly.


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Stephanie blended in quickly and seamlessly to the crowds. Her disguise was more or less perfect, and she found it easy to talk to a lot of the revelers, even some of the more magically inclined elves cavorting through the hamlet. She picked up some alchohol, made a bunch of new friends by buying a lot of drinks (_boy, being rich really makes it easy to get popular in this town!_ she thought to herself). It was unsurprisingly very easy to track down some _baccaran,_ known by it's street name, "Passion". 

After shmoozing her way through a few different tipsy conversations, she managed to find a lead she was looking for. Some of her new friends directed her to a wine bar down the winding dirt road past the Temple of Lestai and an open-air restaurant where people were drinking and dancing, until the pink and red multi-storied club rose before her. Over it's entrance was a symbol of Alobal Lorfiril, a wine glass with motes of arcana flying out of it. Music poured out of the beaded open doorway, thrumming with the sound of flutes, string instruments, and a painfully beautiful voice. This was the place.

Inside, she found a scene as debauched and licentious as the outdoors were. Here, a pair of elves making out along a low couch, their hands well inside each others' clothes. There, people dancing and singing, or imbibing enough wine to kill a herd of horses. Magic coursed through the air and in the walls, lighting the place up with scintillating patterns and filling the space with the intoxicating, if vertigo-inducing feeling of warped reality that came with arcane magic. And up top, on the center stage, a band merrily playing the night away, Robyn standing in the center of them, crooning out over the delirious crowd.

*Spoiler: Take 20: Know Local, SCI*
Show

The tributary that separates Uptown and Midtown is called the South Channel, and its one of several tributaries that connect the East River and the Queens River. At the northwest end of the South Channel is South Channel Island. The island is a quiet, somewhat poorer neighborhood, with a predominantly elven population; around 60-70% of the island's residents are half elves, and about 10-15% are human. Because elves tend to prefer less metropolitan and more natural habitats than humans, much of South Channel is covered in trees to simulate a proper forest, though its still very much a part of the city. 

Elves also favor arcane magic and have a close relationship to the fae; much of the lighting in South Channel is arcane or fae in nature and there are lots of rumors of the island or the pseudo-elven buildings are haunted. Most people who dont live on South Channel Island tend to avoid it for these reasons, however plenty of the elves work either for the College or the Wizards Guild, so South Channel is still a relatively important part of the city. The northern tip of the island is covered in a small but dense park; this area more than any is a proper forest. The park has no name, but its separated from the rest of the island by a road called Candle Street. For this reason, its often referred to as Candle Street Park or Candle Park. The place is usually completely deserted; rumors abound that its infested with monsters or fae, or that its a place where secretive cults perform profane rituals, or that its an ancient burial site where the necromancers of old once buried an untold army of corpses, waiting to be raised again. Whatever the truth, no one will say for sure, and Candle Park remains a place that wise Gothamites avoid like the plague.

The southern tip of South Channel Island used to be a much more open and well-trafficked park, referred to unimaginatively as South Channel Park. The park was renovated by the Wayne family long ago, and converted into the Carnival Grounds. The Carnival was a popular destination during the later decades of the Wayne Familys rule until the death of Lord Thomas Wayne, when the Bards Guild effectively tore apart the Fools Guild operating the Carnival and shut it down. Now, the Carnival Grounds are abandoned and carry the same terrifying level of mystery and animus that Candle Park does, if not more. During the original rise of the infamous Jester, the place acted as his hideout, and rumors of dark parties of fae worshippers or criminals lurking in the old fairgrounds abound.

The hamlet you're in has no name, but it sits at the other end of Candle Street, with a forest separating it from the other landmarks (mentioned above). This is a popular spot for visitors looking to blow off steam and let loose, but it's also known to be lawless and dangerous. People often disappear here, and the Justicars never investigate missing persons on South Channel Island. The Nigma's aren't especially popular or unpopular here, but plenty of people likely know them. It's said that the eldest elf in this Hamlet, a wizard name Etria, is connected to or knows people who are connected to the Nigmas, but she's powerful and hard to reach. Other people at the festival may be connected the Nigmas, but you don't know who they are.

----------


## Feathersnow

"Hi.   I'm interested in a glammer for a set of fullplate.  An enchantment that makes it look like a fancy dress with a mask? I hoped maybe you could help?"

Kate was raised in the nobility and spent most of her life in the military.   Actually buying things from skilled artisans was something she had next to no experience with.  There were servants and non-comms for that in her previous life.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien shuffles through the crowd, at first pleased that he seems to be slipping through the crowd unnoticed.  Disguise, it seems, is a skill he has innately mastered, like so many others.  It's not for fifteen minutes that he realizes that his disguise has nothing to do with it.  People are ignoring him because the whole place is filled with lights and smells and sounds and naked people and drugs and a hundred thousand sensations more interesting than a kid dressed like short weirdo.

"...Stupid..."  He mumbles, reaching up to tug at the moustache, before realizing he has used a somewhat more powerful adhesive than he thought.  "Ow!  Damn, stupid, damn..."  He exhausts his supply of curses in common, and lets off a few in halfing (ironically adding some authenticity to his terrible disguise).  Who cares, anyway?  Anonymity was anonymity.  If only he could hear a damn thing above the thump and grind of the revelry.  Another fifteen minutes while away, the littlest ninja blundering around in the mayhem bacchanal, before following the two child-elves out like a lifeline and, mostly by chance, arriving at a tent whose character raises his suspicions.  Her circles it once, attempting to be inconspicuous rather than to walk right up; but on the second lap, peeks in the cracked flap to discern what he can about the goings on within.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara is overwhelmed pretty much immedietly by the bacchanalian nature of their surroundings, and the chaos of what's going on there, with Stephanie's instruction to have fun only producing a glace at a nearby couple, stumbling into the doors of a brothel, and a raised eyebrow of questioning as if to say. _'Actual fun? Not sure we agreee what that means.'_

Nonetheless she disguised herselves with the others, donning elbow length bright yellow gloves and a series of brightly coloured but worthess crystls to hang in bundles and bangles from her arms and belt. With that done she slipped into the crowd.

Knowing she wasn't as socially smooth or stealthy as some others she decided instead to focus on her own expertise looking for power and tracing it back to source. She slips into the crowd and lets her sensitivity to magic radiate outward, feeling for powerful magic especially illusions. Whether that brought her to other mages, the local leader of the criminal gangs or just local elites it'd provide a path forward and a possible point of contact. Though possibly she could filter out where it originated with her extensive studies.

Further, to avoid other taking her or her compainions by suprise in case news got out they were here she wove another divination on herself, which would also be very useful for catching any whispers as she wandered around the area.

*Spoiler: Rolls but not really*
Show


Casting Listening Lorecall, I know have blindsense out to 30ft and get a +4 listen bonus.
Taking 10:
Disguise: 19
Spellcraft to identify local magics: 27
Know: Arcana to know about and distinguish, local, criminal and academic magical traditions: 23
Listen: For any rumours or people suspicious of us. 24
Knowledge Local to hang out in the best areas for her purposes: 21

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Take 10 Diplomacy/Bluff/Tumble. Also burning gp.*
Show



I didnt actually think it would be that easy to find Robyn; I wasnt sure she wouldnt be a missing persons case or Verena or something. This is a pleasant surprise.  :Small Smile: 

Ill burn up to 2,000 gp to buy the wine and flowers and bribes needed to bring this plot together. Ive #goneplatnium now and theres no goin back (hopefully)! Shes also my potential cohort. I dont exactly have another lined up and I doubt the higher level Alfred is interested. Anyway!

Take 10 Tumble to try and impress the other dancers to get their attention first: 24. 
Then Take 10 Diplomacy on the bartender/Lastai clergy/singers/dancers/whoever to help sing: 30
Take 10 Bluff on the bartender/Lastai clergy/singers & dancers that no one suspects a prior connection, because Nigma spies: 26

Are Barraccan and Passion different? *IF* theyre both different and in legal books, can I split the difference and say I bought 1 of B and 2 of P? If Passion is homebrew/not from a legal book Ill go with 3 Barrcan anyway. why do i care when I only bought them to blend in 


*Spoiler: IC scene*
Show


In the psychedelic wine temple, all swaying bodies and swirling arcane motes, Stephanie eyed in some awe the centre stage singer with a band at her back, crowd at her feet, and a song on her lips. This was Robyn in her truest element, and for one worrisome moment the rogue feared the singer might hate any reminders of Gotham and all its oppressive institutions and their lock-step lapdogs, even those Gothamites trying to overcome them. The painted rogue sat briefly on the red couchs arm all the same, the one farthest away from the engrossed couple as she eyed the scene. The party terrain taken in, she jumped up with a plot brewing. This was going to take some coordination. 

=*Meanwhile, at the supposed Temple two doors down*= (Diplomacy: 30)

Stephanie poked her head in curiously, knowing the place belonged to some kind of intimacy goddess, and not entirely convinced that wasnt code for brothel. It certainly wasnt entirely in alignment with Estannas approach. Waving casually over to whoever passed for a member of the clergy, playing at this all being normal to her, the partygoer strolled to them. 

Hey, look, so, I hear you guys are all about intimacy, or friendliness? I got a request. She motioned nebulously to the leftmost wall. The singer two doors down is great, and Im pulling a little something together to show our appreciation. Im gonna try getting at least half the room in on a song, so hopefully the rest just join in naturally. But I need a clincher. Or at least, something to safe face if it falls flat. You got any flower bouquets, or magic, and maybe even someone around to offer or throw them at the end? Whatevers good; youre the experts. Im happy to pay a handsome tithe to your fair deity, of course. 

=*At the wine bar itself*= (Diplomacy: 30)

Hey! Whats a bottle of Aubrey Gold cost? Stephanie asked the bartender in effortless Elven. It was a high-middle range wine, not cheap, but hardly whatever alleged drunkards and connoisseurs like Bruce stashed away in their home for decades, either. Ill buy a bottle to cover a glass of Aubrey or less for _everyone_ seated here, if they sing a song when I give the cue. The singer up there likes _Narrow Mind, Open Heart_. He probably knew that, given he worked there. But it was popular enough that most people knew enough of the lyrics, even when drunk. Or so she gambled. Im gonna gets others involved; see if we cant get the whole room to serenade her a bit. Also, mind if I take a stool for over there? She pointed to where other amateur singers were close enough to the dancers, on the other side of the temple (I assume). 

=*Were just dancing, were just hugging*= (Diplomacy: 30 & Tumble 24)

Putting aside the only half finished neon drink on the floor hugging the wall, Stephanie sidled up to where the dancers were, letting herself sway and saunter solo while she watched the others. She made her move among them, whether they were a couple or unattached or friends, dancing with them when she could, close enough near them to wait for a chance to nudge conversation, or else even doing the odd bit of acrobatics and even breakdancing to draw eyes. But always she eventually mentioned how good the music was, and wondered if, with enough other people interested, if those dancers wouldnt be interested in maybe singing a particular song the talent on stage would love to hear. After gathering about five different agreements, she moved on to her next target.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

The elf crone smiled.

*"Ah, trying to blend in eh? You don't look like you've come here for the party. You're not interested in causing trouble in my hamlet, are you?"*

The elf playing music didn't even bother to look up; at a cursory glance, Kate began to suspect that she was on something. The apprentice working he spell scroll turned around to regard her with a sideways glance.

*"I don't want any trouble."* Kate insisted. *"It's just hard to find good enchanters around here outside of the College. I'm not used to doing this sort of thing myself."*

The senior wizard nodded. *"Fair enough, but why come to South Channel Island? Nobles almost never visit this place, and no one visits us if they're not up to some mischief."*

Kate didn't have the suave to lie or schmooze the old elf the way Stephanie would have done. Instead, she told the closest approximation to the truth that she could manage.

*"Listen, it's not always easy getting service from the College facilities given my...heritage. Even as a highborne. I thought the elves would be a bit more understanding."*

The ancient pursed her lips.

*"Very well, then answer me this. To which House are you sworn?"*

*"My name is Dame Katherine Kane, of House Kane."* she said, opting for the truth instead of talking her way through it. *"The Kane's are sworn to the Wayne's of Wayne Castle, but we haven't had much to do with them in a long time. I mostly work for myself now."*

Well, most of the truth.

*"Ah, an adventurer then."* said the ancient, opening up a nearby chest which appeared filled with magical vials and instruments. *"Adventurers we can handle."* 

She removed the ingredients from her chest, and began preparing her work table.

*"I can glamer that armor. It'll cost 300 imperial platinum pieces and take me three days. Is that going to work for you?"*

As she spoke, the apprentice to the side slowly turned back to inscribing his scroll, seeming to imperceptibly mumble something under his breath as he did so.

*"An'alda will help you. We're all outcasts here, after all."* the elder wizard said.


*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Damien peaked through the crack, but couldn't see much. What he could make out was fairly enticing. The interior of the casino tent was extravagantly appointed, and it was filled with what looked like dozens of patrons and a few different employees working the gambling tables. A long bar was somewhere in the back and Damien could see people were drinking and eating a plentiful amount of food and wine. Unfortunately, without walking in it was hard to notice anything else. Most of what he heard was people reveling, shouting and betting, but he caught a glimpse of something -- or someone -- massive standing in the back of the tent. Someone shifted relatively close by to the flap; perhaps a bouncer or guard. They were less than a foot from his face, but hadn't noticed him.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Gave you 10's on Listen, Spot, and Hide. You can feel free to roll to try harder if you want, or you can simply enter or attempt to enter the tent, at your discretion.



*Spoiler: Barbara*
Show

Though Barbara may not have been as smooth as her compatriots when it came to talking her way through a bar, she was more than capable of making up for that with her true skills.

Barbara knew a ton about this city, about the elves, the College, and about magic, and her divination powers would help bring her the rest of the way. She was in here element.

Her disguise was successful; she managed to avoid most notice, and most passing glances she received appeared more out of drunken romantic interest than general suspicion, still, no one followed or bothered her. 

As she made her way through the hamlet, she started to pick up on things. The elves were well established fixtures of the College, but they were also known to deviate rapidly from Imperial Law, and Arcane Law was no exception. They'ed practically lacquered their village with magic, and Barbara was genuinely staggered by how much shadowy illusion magic was at work. _Most_ of the lights here and a lot of the declarations were not, for all genuine intents and purposes, real. More stunning still, quite a bit of the food and drink -- though not all of it -- was also conjured rather than made by hand. If this place lacked for arcana, it would be dark, run down, and hungry.

Most of the buildings in the hamlet seemed generally unguarded, but she managed to find several abjurations and alarms; a few were guarding the "Temple of Lastai" (a brothel), several others around one of the lounges. She found powerful divination spells over the bar marked with the sigil of Alobal Lorfiril. One of the things that stood out the most was a powerful aura of conjuration and transmutation emanating from the gambling tent. Near the north end of the area, a tent labeled "Chuk's Magic Shoppe" emanated illusion magic.

As Barbara walked around, she was able to pick out some interesting conversations. Given how loudly everyone was partying, it was easy with the benefit of her magics to pick out more serious conversations. Most of what she heard was basic criminal behavior -- she could hear a fence haggling with a client, several drug deals, the passing of necromantic artifacts back and forth, and a haggle between low level enforcers in the Thieves Guild and Dark Market. None of them were particularly interesting.

Two key conversations stood out while she was standing outside any of the buildings.

The first was between someone she didn't recognize, talking to a man in dark black studded leather armor, who was carrying a magically enchanted crossbow and carried a number of dangerous looking knives.

*"Are you sure? Changelings?"*

*"That's what they're saying."* replied the second man, wearing a sly grin. *"But what do you care? That'll be a problem for the magi. The Lords want this mark put on ice. Can you all do that?"*

*"House Lawton technically works for the Nigmas."* the dark, armed man replied. *"So, full disclosure, we find out any of this runs afoul of the Bankers, you're gonna have more to worry about than wasting your money. Besides, we've never missed a mark."*

*"Don't worry about it. We're good. None of the Bankers will notice or care. They don't like this fugger either. Just promise they'll be dead by the end of the week, and you'll get your money. We're good for it."*

*"i'll see you at the end of the week."* the other thug replied.

Disturbing as that was, Barbara's ears perked up by the sound of House Nigma being recognized. Still, she felt like this was a bit cold, so she made a note of them, but moved on to another area. 

The second conversation, she almost wished she hadn't heard.

*"They're saying it's mercenaries, yea."*

*"Adventurers?"*

*"Same one Fox hired, yea that's what they're saying."*

*"They're going to be pissed."*

*"It's already too late. They're moving her now. She'll be dead in a day."*

*"So what're we going to do about the Merchants?"*

*"The boss sends coded letters. We just need to find em."*

*"Cool it. He's not our boss."*

*"It doesn't matter. Zucco'll get what he wants. We just need to find the mercs so we can call in the dogs. We don't want any trail leading back that the Dark Knight or the Justicars could track."*

*"Fine. Let's get off the street."*

This mob was geared out with magical equipment. All five of them walked away from the main thoroughfare, and towards a darker back-alley side of the hamlet, out of view.

*Spoiler: Knowledge: Arcana*
Show

Key to understanding local magic traditions is understanding the relationship between the elves and the College. Elves are an important influence at the Mage's College, and contribute quite a bit to it's magical study and production. However, the College is regulated by strict Imperial Arcane Law, and the elves, being much more comfortable with the Arcane are...a bit more loosey goosey with their regs. It's not uncommon for both elven misfits and outcasts to intermix with professional magi on South Channel Island to conduct prohibited arcane practices and cavort with the fey. 

As a result, you're likely to see activities here (if you look hard enough) that are illegal or frowned upon on the other islands. Necromancy, diabolism, production of illegal alchemical items and/or drugs, fey summoning, eldritch invocations, and sorcery are all likely. Of course, given how crime ridden Gotham is, this isn't the _only_ place where you can find this kind of activity, but it's easily the biggest hot spot.

In keeping with that, you can expect that some of the illusion magic spread all over the hamlet is likely at least partially there to distract from actual criminal activity. It's also likely that the village has multiple centers of power; there is likely at least one archmage (who doesn't necessarily, but might, live here). There is also likely key spiritual leaders nearby, but chances are better than not that they live in the forest and not in the village itself. However, given that this is a great place to perform magic the College wouldn't approve of, so it's likely that one or more criminal gangs or rings or even noble houses is operating here.

*Spoiler: Knowledge: Local*
Show

Best places to look around would be the Bar, the open air lounge, or the Temple of Lestai. Alternatively, if you could find out where the Archmage lives, that would be a pretty solid lead. You don't recognize the gambling tent at all -- based on what you know about the area, it seems out of place.

*Spoiler: Spellcraft*
Show

The temple of Lestai is guarded by wards that are temporarily deactivated, but appear to be designed to fortify the temple and potentially repel unwanted visitors. The bar is covered by powerful divination's that are apparently designed to watch who goes in and out. Several of the houses are shrouded in glamers, and quite a bit of food and drink have been conjured by simple conjuration spells rather than hand made. You've also identified that only about a third of the merrygoers and dwellers in the town have magic on them (likely magic items) or are themselves spellcasters, which is a lot in normal society but a stark minority compared to how much magic is about.

You've managed to pick out several groups in the town, most of whom aren't actively too drunk or high or dancing, that appear to be packing more magical "heat" than others. 



*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Stephanie found that, with a little coin and the right dialect, she had a fairly easy time cajoling the elves and other denizens of the hamlet. The Priestess of Lastai who helped her was fine accepting her coin in exchange for flowers, of which the temple already had an over-abundance. Before long, her preparations were in order, and she'd collected enough willing participants to pull it off.

----------


## MrAbdiel

_I could kill him._

Damien considered this option seriously.  All it would take is a little antagonism and the goon on the other side of the tent flap would give chance.  The big ones always do.  Once separated from the main sprawl, he such an enemy would prove little opposition when confronted with the techniques gifted to him by his Grandfather.  It's the kind of pragmatism of which his Grandfather would approve.  But his father...

_...Fine.  I shall keep doing it your way,_ Wayne_.  For now._

His circle around the tent had given him a chance to see how the pavilion was pegged down.  He noted the place were the pegs had the broadest spacing - more slack in it - and concluded that was the way in.  He was to distinctive a figure to slip in and just blend - one of the few drawbacks to his diminutive stature that he noticed, and took seriously.  Harder to hide in plain sight.  But just to hide?  Well, that became much easier.

He made sure the coast was clear, then produced a tindertwig, and smokestick.  The smokestick he carefully tucked halfway under the lip of the tent wall just to the right of the flap.  He pulled a couple of handfuls of the dryer grass nearby, and sculpted it into a shabby little line to serve as a fuse.  Then he struck the tindertwig, dropped it into the grass, and booked it around the back of the tent.  The grass would burn quickly, and not with enough heat to ignore the tent before being burned up entirely - but the smokestick, designed to be easily ignited, would surely catch after those three-to-six seconds worth of grass-fuse were burned through.

Back to the rear of the tent, he quietly seized the edge of the canvas stretched between the pegs, and listened for the moment.

*Spoiler: The Plan!*
Show

Damien figures smoke pouring into the tent will create a decent distraction.  The door guard will likely come out and kick the stick away, chalking it up to the drug-addled pranksters the island is no doubt filled with.  More importantly, Damien is going to squirm beneath the edge of the tent on the far side from where he planted the stick, and quickly into whatever cover he can find while everyone is looking at the smoke and gabbling to each other about it.  If it's just a move silently you want, then I will, ahem, _take ten_ for 31.  If you want, say, an escape artist to wriggle under the tent, that pops out at a 20.  Then Damien is at the mercy of the immediate terrain, and the natural fire-bad instinct of the people inside.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Smoke flowed through the interior of the tent, and for a moment, the patrons inside ignored it, until it became impossible to do so. Anger turned to fright, fright turned to panic, and a commotion spilled through the tent as the first bouncer stepped outside to find the source of the disturbance. Damien rolled under the tent flap while everyone was looking the other way, hopping behind one of the tables. He'd moved almost completely silently; the tent moved a bit as he went through, but no one seemed to notice, possessed as they were with the disturbance.

There are four different tables inside the tent, and each one is manned by an elf, casually dressed up in simple elegant tunics. There's a bar in the back, from which a strange looking elf bartender serves pretty much anything anyone asks for, free of charge. He has a long lock of purple hair and strangely intense, golden eyes. Near the back of the tent, overseeing the commotion, a massive female ogre stands, looking angry, her arms crossed. She looks like a security guard.

The bouncer near the tent walks back in, apparently having snuffed the smoke stick. She has long green hair, and is robustly muscular for an elf, but appears otherwise unarmed.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: The Daring Do of Damien, Cont.*
Show

_Well.  This a little more than I expected._

Damien had anticipated a few tables and a little coin changing hands, but with this deluxe bar set up, and intimidatingly professional looking security, this seemed more like a semi permanent gambling establishment using the festivities as cover... rather than a slapdash set of cardsharps enjoying the game as part of that festivity.  Caution, then - but he didn't want to extract without getting _some_ interesting information, at least.  He targets the nearest table to his hiding place with active gamblers- ideally with ongoing conversation - and attempts to sneak closer, drifting low in the tight confines of the tent, between the shadows cast by the perimiter lamps.  He waits for the dealer of that table to do whatever they are doing - turning a card, resolving a round of betting, or whatever will keep the gamblers mind on the top of the table.. and then tries to sneak under it, hunkering tightly at the centre of a nexus of legs, table and humanoid alike, shielded by the dangling tablecloth, but not much else.  And from there, he listens.

*Spoiler: Sneaky Sneak*
Show

According to the cover-to-cover rules from Complete Adventurer, I can take 10 to sneak across a 5ft distance at a 23, or a more risky 10ft distance at 18, if necessary - trying to get close enough to listen in.  And maybe tie some shoelaces together, I dunno.

----------


## Feathersnow

"That sounds good.  Obviously, I don't have the money or the armor here now, but I will be back soon."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

*"Very well."* The ancient replied. *"I'll be here when you return. Or, one of my apprentices will at any rate. Enjoy your time on the island ...but do me a favor, deary. Stay away from Chuk's...I like you, and that shiftless idiot isn't trustworthy. Oh, and stay away from the woods. The gods are hungry this time of year."*

With that cryptic warning, the mage went back to whatever she'd been doing before Kate entered, and the spiker warrior left the tent.*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

okay, where to next?

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: NOW: THAT'S WHAT I CALL CRINGE/MUSIC. (Take 10 on Perform: 15 & Diplomacy: 30)*
Show



(made a few changes. dancers now just clapping slowly and rhythmically, so everyone has a basic cadence to stick to, with the amateur [?] singers and drunks and I doing the song itself)

=*When the pieces are together*= (Diplomacy: 30 to unite the different pieces, Perform: 15 because some drunk/high/distracted voices probably need a guiding one?)

The wooden stool was already dragged to the side opposite of the wine bar. When the song Robyn and her band were promoting came to its natural end, and they seemed to be preparing for their next, the purple clad blonde stepped unto her pseudo podium and drew her sai with a conductors flourish. The wine bar patrons didnt need a band, training, or even sobriety behind them to show their love. Flicking its head theatrically at the amateur dancers, Stephanie mouthed _one_. They started clapping loudly, but slowly, even rhythmically. A simple background cadence was set. At the alcoholics in the room came the next flick of the sai. _Two_, she mouthed, and the bartender turned to his drunken and distracted patrons to get them ready to unite. The final flick was aimed at the amateur singers that she hoped would really help hold the entire effort together. _Three_. Both hands were raised and pointed at the stage then, a signal to direct their collective love towards the entertainers, leading in a softly strong and borderline melodic voice. 


Stared into your eyes all the same, 
Window shopping for a flame, 
Even stained glass aint so pained, 
But could not look away, 
So much shame and hate and crooked goals. 

Behind, I see the gold, 
Rubies hopeful for the whole, 
Diamonds held only by the bold,  
Vast fortunes all untold, 
Babe, I wont leave well enough alone. 

Think youre cute with your guile,  
Think youre shrewd in a bind, 
Think youre smart as an hourglass design,
But for love youre dumb and dull and deaf and slow,   

Couldnt read it on my lips, 
Still defenceless against a kiss, 
Your heart unguarded by the bliss,  
So I palmed it as it is; 
Far too late to hide rose quartz from me.

Started picking locks on your mind, 
Brushed sleep off your eyes, 
Our hands always entwined, 
Poetry, hail or shine, 
Healing pain you never knew you had. 

This wasnt some smash and grab,
Didnt case your place for a one night stand, 
Im with ya till the promised land, 
Narrow minded as I am,  
But at least you know Ive got an open heart.  

Please forgive me if Ive got an open heart,
Far from perfect, but Ive got an open heart, 
Narrow-minded, but Ive got an open heart. 

When the last note of their collective voices rang out, a moment of pristinely satisfied silence was allowed before the crowd broke into applause. First seemingly to itself for pulling off the stunt, and with a little encouragement, at the performers on stage that had inspired them. Stephanie whistled enthusiastically at the band herself. We love you Robyn! the amateur singer-maestro shouted through cupped hands. She pointed the sai one last time, and hands far nearer the stage performers tossed the rose bouquet to landed easily at Robyns feet. 

The work to let the singer know she was richly appreciated done, and hoping she had already seen past the obvious purple-clad fan disguise, Stephanie stepped down from the stool and fished out one of the pink tabs again. She pretended to waver on whether to pop one into her mouth before crushing it in her hand and blowing the pieces off dismissively, like overdried cherry blossoms. 

_If she doesnt call me over for an autograph or something, Ill have to burn time before approaching. Way too much attention to pickpocket drugs out of circulationwine bar?_ 

(ooc=Spot/Listen in case theres anything to investigate: *17/18*)

----------


## JbeJ275

While the first conversation made for an immediate entry on the ever growing list of disasters she felt the need to take personal responsibility to avert the second was more important for the moment. And depending on the relevant her could be what they were looking for though that would raise some question as to the exact relationship between a couple of the factions she was trying to tear down

For the moment though her only recourse was to quietly begin her standard divination of Detect Thoughts, while trailing the thugs related to the second conversation at a distance and releasing Julius into the wider party with instructions to find and retrieve Kate, Stephanie and more reluctantly, Damien.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

A lot of what Damien heard was idle and useless chit chat. Most of the campers didn't seem to have anything particularly interesting to say. They were invested in the game, but she eventually figured out was called "Boneyard", but they weren't doing particularly well -- the House almost always won.

Eventually though, he did hear something slightly interesting.

*"I'm coming back here tomorrow. This place is great."*

*"Good luck. I've been here four times, this Hamlet isn't always this much fun. And I've never seen this tent here before today. This is a traveling joint."*

*"Really?"* a third man said. *"This place seems pretty fuggin' permanent.*"

*"I know, but it's not. I'm telling you it wasn't here last week. Go ahead, ask her."*

There was some indeterminate noises and an uncomfortable shuffling before the second voice said.

*"That true? How long you worked here?"*

The dealer seemed to respond in a blank noncommittal voice.

*"Not long. It's just a pickup job.*"

*"So you've never met the proprietors before in your life?"*

*"What do you care? You a Justicar or something?"*

Damien couldn't discern why, but the mood at the Boneyard table had just tensed up ever so slightly.


*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

Having concluded her conversation with the elf Wizard, Kate stepped outside, inside a little bit. Now she needed to go find her compatriots, who'd all wandered off into the party. She looked around to see what the best direction to start walking would be, but as she was looking around the area, she heard a faint clicking sound from above her. A moment later, Julius landed from somewhere just up above her perching himself on her shoulder. His small leathery wings wrapped around her shoulder, avoiding her spikes, his tiny little bad hands gripping the hem of her tunic. 

He chirped at her a few times in his strange subsonic voice, then took off again, flapping his way south a bit before whizzing back to grab her attention again. He wheeled around just as fast, turning back south, then cut west, seeming to try to draw her to follow him.

Kate quietly hoped that nothing had gone wrong, unable to read the little bat's body language. She marched off in the direction he'd led her.


*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

 Barbara followed the getting up thugs past the pastel colored houses to the back alley on the outside of the thorpe. 

Julius hopped out of her cloak and toon off, his clicking echoing sound periodically announcing his presence until he was lost in the din of the party. He felt eager -- he'd find the others and bring them back to Barbara. He seemed sure of it 

She kept a safe distance so that the thugs would not notice her, but kept her inside of the cone of her detect thoughts spell.

She found that the gang of thugs was both similar and desperate, based on what was running through their heads.

The first man was a common criminal. His mind was on money, and drugs, and women, and it was steeped in paranoia about the men he was working with, who might betray him, whether he'd get paid and what his next score would be. He wanted them to pay him now, so he could visit the temple of Lastai, but he'd been a Gotham cutthroat long enough to avoid appearing desperate.

He was engaged in commiting crimes and passing his efforts on to the highest bidder. If someone asked him for information, he'd sell it. If he stole some valuables, he'd launder it through a Dark Market fence. He'd well drugs and pass contraband arcana. He was essentially a kind of freelance criminal.

He'd also been asked explicitly to look for the people helping the Merchant's Guild. He didn't know all the players, but he's convinced that Baron Zucco and Boss Falcone, two of the most powerful crime bosses in Gotham, want Fox and his guild gone. He also feels extremely confident that the crime lords have Noble backers.

The man who'd said *"Cool it, he's not our boss."* Appeared through context to be a Dark Market agent. Unfortunately his mind was more of a fortress, and her spell couldn't penetrate his thoughts.

The third man is a Thieves Guild footpad. He's also trading in secrets but he sees the Dark Market agent as a more trusted contact and repeat business partner. There's a decent amount of pay in store for him in the job he's working on. He's looking forward to helping knock out whatever mercenaries the nobles are mad at and getting his payday.

He's also generally a very confident person. He feels like he's in his home terrain (he's an elf). He's armed with a lethal magical weapon, and so are his friends. He feels that people like him run this town, and he's proud of his own deadly talents.

The fourth is the most interesting, however. Between the four of them, he knows something the others all don't. He's officially a very low ranking Bard's Guild member, but he's secretly on the payroll of House Nigma. Thugs like the men with him see him as just a fellow criminal; even as a licensed bard his actual career has been mostly all criminal -- he does very little with the Guild. So the Thief, the Fence and the Contractor all see him as one of them, and they don't know who really pays him. His job, more than anything else, is to lie. He lies about who he is and what he's up to, and then uses that cover to pass secrets back to his House Nigma handler.

It's important for his cover that the others not know he's directly involved in their contracts with the Nigma's. He first recruited the Thief by skipping a coded Nigma Letter under his door one day, and acted surprised when the Thief showed it to him. He'd then continue to pass rumors from "anonymous sources" to his compatriots, leading then to move Nigma dead drops. The coded notes gave these men and hundreds like them throughout the city instructions, and he acted his part as a willing aid to their exploits, never revealing he was passing news of their activities back to the Nigma's themselves.

His job here is to, using the thugs he's with, work to track down the Thieves Guild Mercs so the Nigma's can send killers to out then on ice, and to warn the Nigma's if the mercenaries get to close to their trail.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Role move silently or hide to avoid being seen by the thugs.



*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

 Stephanie's stunt went off more or less without a hitch.

After the room calm down she made her way over to another table where a few drunken on lookers shared their positive regards. Someone even handed her a drink.

While she was schmoozing at her table, she didn't see much else of interest to her inside the bar -- not pertaining to her mission, at any rate. (there was plenty *interesting* things happening inside the bar, but watching a half orc make out with a gnome wasn't particularly mission sensitive).

She did overhear one interesting tidbit though -- a couple of loudmouthed human braggarts near the bar -- one a mage and the other a bard, by the looks of them -- were arguing over the future if the governance of the city. The Bard seemed certain that House James was doomed. According to him, there'd be new Lord's of Gotham by the end of the year.

While she listened, someone came up behind her and places their hand in her arm.

She turned slightly and found herself face to face with Robyn, who was smiling despite a surprised looking twinke in her eye.

"*That was quite a performance.*" she said. "*Did you practice that in advance?*"

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

The range of flavors of base criminality on display saw Barbara set her jaw firm once more as she followed them at a distance. Her thoughts split between moving to take them out the moment her reinforcements arrived and seeing what plans they could brew up with the freshly divined information. If nothing else, it had provided some clarity on which spiders were weaving this particular web together. 

For the moment there was little she could do to interfere, not until the numbers were at least somewhat closer, and with her unable to track the other mercenary she had to consider the possibility he'd join the fight against them if it got too loud in too public a venue. Instead she put her trust in her familiar, keeping an ear out for the sound of one of the others being drawn back to her position and trying to identify the equipment each of her foes held. The Nigma loyalist in particular... did he have a way of remotely warning house Nigma he could do amidst a battle or would just ensuring he didn't get away at the end be sufficient to maintain their cover for the moment.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damien Do, Cont.*
Show

_Strange.  Very strange._  The little ninja considered slyly, stroking his fake, unconvincing moustache in his hiding spot.  _The illusion of permeance only serves one purpose - to discourage charges of hucksterism.  And one kind of folk works harder to discourage charges of hucksterism than all others - hucksters.  But what's the point?  A similar operation somewhere with wealthier clientele would be a better play, if it's just rigged games.  What does the weird elf behind the bar_ - presumably the proprietor, based on an instinct he couldn't quite source - _get out of this?  There must be more going on._

But nothing more he could discern with his skills alone.  If he could... lure the bartender away, maybe. 
 Tie them up and kick them till they bleat - ... No.  No, this part of the work is a shortfall of his talents. 
 It grieves him - but he knows very well this is something for which he would have to call on his allies.

He needed another distraction to slip out the way he came.  From under the table, he skulks over to where two men at the table are sitting adjacent to each other, ideally across the table from his point of egress- the ones whose natural eyeline is most likely to see the little figure scurrying away from the other side of the able. 
 He reaches up with both hands, one hand to one of each gambler's thighs, side by side in their chairs, and gives both a brisk squeeze - creating, he hopes, the startling illusion that each had presumptuously squeezed on the other.  Such a sensation would likely create either a spectacle of awkwardness, or possibly violence depending on the temperament of the gamblers involves - but with either, he's ready to slink out from under the tablecloth while everyone's eyes are on the baffled schmucks, and then under the tent flap again, out to the carnival proper... there to see help.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Taking no chances here, if I don't have to.  All the take-tens still in motion - 28 for hide, 31 for Move Silently.  18 for Bluff, if you want that for the sort of tactile 'feint' he's just used.  If it's too risky and you want me to roll any of them, though.. just let me know.  I'm your huckleberry.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Damien's ruse worked.

One of the men sprang up immediately, while the other looked confused, almost like he was about to look under the table. But it was rapidly too late.

*"What the hell was that!?"* the first one snapped.

*"No that wasn't me you idiot --"* but before he could get any more out, the first man punched him in the face.

Things got ugly after that. Damien rolled between them and bolted, quietly making his exit. Quickly the rest of the table got involved. Someone hit the elf dealer in the head, and she fell over. Quickly, the ogre security guard stomped over to put an end to the rucuss. But Damien didn't have time for all of that, rapidly slipping back out of the tent as things began to spiral.

Somewhere behind him, he almost thought he heard the dealer moaning, "*Oh gods...oh gods...*" but by then he was gone.

Out in the "street" once again, he was free to go about his business. He brushed himself off, looking for an indication for where the three women who'd accompanied him might have gone.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damien's Digression*
Show

_Knaves._

He brushes some loose grass off himself as he recovers from his scurrying roll, then begins to scan around the grounds.  A big place like this If he was going to find the others, hes need to spot them from higher ground.  So he looks for the point of greatest elevation in the area

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

The highest point that Damien can pick out is the top of the Temple of Lastai; it's sloped roofs demarcate a full four stories, allowing it to tower over the second highest buildings, similar looking elven two story homes.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Bluffs for believability and complex messages*
Show



Every weekday, three-to-five. You didnt see the flyers? The reveller quipped, the table nearly forgotten for the local talent that chose to directly approach her instead. However towering her presence on stage, she still had a few inches on the singer up close. 

Marcy. Easily your second biggest fan in all Gotham. _Gilded Ones_ and _Hearts for Hire_ really changed my entire view on guilds and the cityscape. The first song spoke to the open corruption of the guilds, and how their monopolistic grip was keen to strangle the creativity, if not the life, out of the competition. The second song spelled out too plainly the dangers of treating love like a delusion and sex workers like soulless mercenaries. 

Anyway, lemme introduce you to my new friends. 

The rounds were made for the tables small assortment of the half drunk and pleasantly dazed, with Stephanie unable to immediately tell any actual House Nigma spooks from the sincerely hammered and happy. So she smiled and winked and flirted jovially in turns as she pointed out each one, and rattled off the little she recalled about them. Or else, their aliases and cover stories. She sipped the wine glass casually, but didnt gamble her own cover had yet to be compromised for overplaying her hand. Attention was no issue, as long as near everyone saw only what she wanted them to. 

Yknow, when I first spied South Channel Isle as fey gods and elves, I _knew_ everyone would be all ears for humans. Were almost exotic here! Now, I completely get why some people just disappear from their daily lives. This place is riddled with so much magic and mystery its hard not to find what you love... She placed the wine glass down, and pushed it towards the centre of the table while she eyed the potential celebrity knowingly. 

Actually, I just finished my drink. Can I buy you one over at? 

The wine bar still had its two noisy patrons to cover quieter conversations, and the change invited closer contact without raising suspicion from onlookers. But she remained open to better options. 

*Spoiler: Bluff 20: Complex message to Robyn.*
Show

 _Cant speak freely: place is all ears. Missing persons case, with House Nigma involved. Still wanted to see you._

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Robyn smiled wide, doing an excellent job to pretend she didn't register anything about the way Stephanie had spoken, but her response said it all.

*"Oh, I don't know. I just got off. We've got a few rooms in the cooperative across the street, and more than a few bottles of Sehsan Craft up in my room. Wanna head over to my place and open one?"*

She winked at Stephanie as she did so, and the torchlight in the bar twinkled in her eyes. Stephanie nodded enthusiastically and the two of them took off, out of the bar.

They crossed the "street", keeping up the giggly, merry facade the entire way, until they found themselves inside one of the strange, curving, multicolored two story structures that dotted the hamlet.

The "cooperative" was mostly bedchambers, and a solitary elf bard tended a fire in the hearth, looking half drunk and peaceful, on the main floor.

*"Evening Atha."* Robyn hummed as they made their way upstairs. "Atha" didn't answer, instead continuing to tend to the fire, quietly humming to herself.

When they got upstairs, Stephanie saw it was occupied by a small study and two more bedchambers. The largest one had a big open window that faced the street and the party down below, but the whole top floor was quiet, dark, and empty. The largest chamber was Robyn's. She closed the door behind them.

*"Don't worry about Atha. She'll be asleep soon. Now what the hell was all that down there? Is someone in trouble!? I haven't seen you in forever? Are you alright? Tell me everything."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damien's Discovery*
Show

_That'll do nicely._

He makes his way over to the temple, skulks around behind it to its blindest side, and produces the Rod of Ropes to ascend to the roof.  Once there, on the top of exclusively four story building, 
 he has the world to himself.  With a little extra caution, expecting eyes to be cast upward and around more in a colorful environment like this than most Gotham streets, he peeks down at the streets below, looking for the forms of the three women he came here with.  The task would be impossible, if he didn't not precisely what disguises to look for.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Damien looked out over the festivities, but he had a hard time seeing any of his compatriots. To the north, he saw a quartet of shady looking figures smoking behind the bar, but couldn't see any indication of Oracle, Spoiler, or Kate. At one point he thought he saw a flash of purple on the street, but it was nothing.

Eventually something did catch his eye. To the South he thought he saw something flitting through the air, when he turned and looked he saw Kate's dark, spiked, ominous form making her way up the street. Eventually he figured out what had caught his eye -- it was Julius, Oracle's bat, bouncing back and forth between Kate and the other side of the market as though trying to lead her in a specific direction.

*"What the hell did I miss?"* He wondered to himself.


*Spoiler: Barbara*
Show

 as Barbara watched, she waited for her allies to arrive. The thugs in front of her continued with their meandering conversation eventually honing in on what they needed to do next. 

*"So, we find the mercenaries and we put them on ice? Is that it?"*

*"That, or their families yeah. The Boss would also accept just finding out who hired them. If we can link a contract to Fox, the bankers might be able to go after the merchants directly."*

*"I still don't get it. How are we supposed to cash in? If we find out who they are, how are we going to pass that info on?"*

*"You've still got the note don't you?"*

*"Yeah but it's gibberish. 'Hair is silk and skin is fair, my perfume lures you through the air. Once time has come, your quarry tract, you'll always find me on my back.' The fug is all that supposed to mean?"*

The thug had struggled to even read the letter, any spoken in halting unsteady tone as he rattled off the riddle. The House Nigma informant visibly rolled his eyes.

"The contact is a courtesan you idiot." He said. "The drop is in the Temple of Lastai. We get what we need, go there, and one of 'em'll be marked. Bet my bottom dollar. Then we can get paid."

Barbara could see that the informant wasn't giving up all of the information he had and she continued to read his thoughts. He intended to pass a message along to his superiors the moment the other thugs discovered the "mercenaries". Whoever was working in the temple of Lastai That was supposed to pay them for completing their task, was just another pawn. The informant's actual boss was elsewhere.

Truth be told however, Barbara was getting nervous. The thugs had almost finished their cigars, and they look like they were getting ready to head out. If Julius didn't return soon with help, she was going to be on her own, or risk losing sight of the informant.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damiens Descent*
Show

Finally!  There was Kate, her tall, distinct silhouette a lighthouse of familiarity sprouting from a sea of reprobates.  He clocks her trajectory, then rappels down the side of the temple.  If he can, hell cross all the way to the other side then begin to follow her parallel on the rooftops over there.  Two story buildings are less impressive, but he can make that jump to the ground directly, if hes heading into unpleasantness.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Barbara's Battling Begins*
Show


Barabara was unnerved the lack of appearence of the others, for a few moments wondering if some other hired killers had struck at them first. But none of them were the type to get caught out and disabled without a cry, and she was confident her divinations would let her her the sounds of battle from some distance. Instead she reigned herself to the possibility she'd begin this fight alone. Thus she first brought her _Mage Armour_ into existance, then looked for a position to begin raining her Arcana down from, preferably one with some elevation and some cover. Finally, letting the seconds stretch out in the hope one of her allies was using the time to close with her she cast _Cloud of Knives_ and drew a bead on the informant. Ready to begin the fight.


*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show


Time for me to roll initiative?

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Feats and NPCs question*
Show

You already okayed Leadership as a thing (cant get Landlord or Guildmaster without it). But if I take it at level 6, am I allowed to say that Robyn is officially my cohort, and ask her for knowledge skills or something about whats going down with kidnappings/leads to stop them? If thats ok, Id like to do that. Otherwise, Ill figure it out.



*Spoiler: ic*
Show

For all the affinity of Kate and Barbara, as much fun as the visit with House Kyle, none of them had truly asked after her. They were all busy or burdened or blithe. But here was a performer, forced half-way in exile, with a crowd near every night willing to satisfy her ego and any other appetites on a whim, and she ignored both worries and well-wishers to support the blonde against unclear odds. Stephanie looked hopelessly touched, and felt infantile for the fear that made her act out as a party prima-donna. It would have been endlessly more subtle, wise, and simple to hint between some faux fawning over an autograph that she wanted Robyns attention, and they both knew it. 

But admitting to that when this was their first meeting together, after so long, felt a carriage ride too far. Stephanie simply enveloped her in a warm hug, pressing close. Anxieties she hadnt realized she was carrying started to shed, and Gotham finally felt brighter, a little safer than before. 

I really, really missed you, Stephanie murmured into her ear. And Im so sorry I didnt swing by a lot sooner. Its all gotten a little intense lately. She reluctantly leaned back a little, but didnt let go, not trusting when she would have another excuse to hold her bard again. 

Lets see...Ive made a tiny fortune, chosen Estanna as my go-to, been more distant with House Kyle, gotten possessed by some insane ghost girl, jumped a Thieves Guild captain, and now Im ducking the knife theyve got with my name on it. But we might have a real solution to our Bard problem? Prince Wayne is literally offering you a noble alias _and_ his protection, but in exchange, I have to accept a dangerous mission. Maybe even one way. 

Stephanie paused the thumbnail sketch that had ignored so much, and closely gauged how the singer felt before continuing. But right this sec, Ive got no idea how much time Verena really has left. Shes been kidnapped by House Nigma, and theyve been straight up blackmailing ever since. Me and three others are making a move tonight. But thats kinda hard when we dont know where she is, and its not exactly obvious all their spies dont already know were on the way, or even already here. The others helping to rescue her know I have a friend that knows the scene well, and might be willing to point us in the right direction. 

The rogue smiled half-way guiltily. At least, if she can forgive me for not showing up sooner, first? How have you been out here?

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

 Ensconced in invisible magical armor and surrounded by an animated cloud of swirling knives, Barbara looked up and saw that the building next to her had two stories, and a low sloped roof overhanging herself and the thugs. There was a pile of boxes in front of her that she was using to hide behind in order to stay out of sight of the thugs, and if she climbed up them carefully, she could potentially get in position above her targets.

In the back of her mind she could begin to hear Julius's feelings again. He felt excited, even eager. She sensed that he was hungry for her praise, certain he had done good work.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Climb and move silently checks to get up onto the first story's overhang without being spotted. Unless you have a different method in mind for reaching the overhang.



*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Robyn seemed equally thrilled to be reunited with Stephanie as Stephanie was to see her. She tightened her grip on Steph's forearm.

*"I'm fine, I'm fine! The gigs out here are really easy. People are just desperate to blow money, and the crowds are always drunk and high. Easiest encores I've ever scored. But what do you mean you pissed off the thieves guild? Are you in trouble? You've got to stay away from these bastards."*

Stephanie laughed. "*I got to be honest with you, it's a little late for that now.*"

Robyn shook her head, unable to let go of Steph's arms. She looked worried.

*"You've just got to be careful out here. The Nigmas aren't that popular on the island, but it doesn't really matter. They're elves -- that's good and plenty enough. They've got incredibly deep pockets. There are people all over the city on their payroll, and there's more here than anywhere else. From what I heard, they kidnapped some Shipmaster's daughter because he was working for Lord Fox. No one knows exactly where they're keeping her. All they know for certain is that the Nigma's like to send instructions to their agents in the form of coded letters or puzzles. If that's the girl that you're looking for, then pennies to purse strings, those letters will have the answer."*


*Spoiler: Kate (Damien)*
Show

 Julius flitted back and forth across the street, moving much too fast for Kate to follow at her normal walking pace so instead zigzagging himself over the heads of the revelers in order to allow her to continue to follow him. Eventually he led her past the Temple of Lastai, and began hovering around an alleyway in between two strange curvaceous elven houses. Whatever he wanted her to see it was back there.

Kate made her way towards the alley, and as she Drew closer she could hear several muffled voices speaking in the shadows from behind one of the houses.

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

 Damien was able to watch Kate and Julius make their way towards the alleyway. Due to where he positioned himself, Kate started to walk away from him, as the alleyway was on the other side of the street.



*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Everyone except Stephanie, roll for initiative.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara looked at the boxes with trepidation. For all her talents, climbing was never an area she'd became familiar with. Instead she reassured herself with the presence of Juluis in her mind, and resolved to fall back on the traditional way of not getting overwhlmed and beaten in close combat, bring a better fighter than they have. The issue of course was the informant who needed to be taken out quickly or he'd surely report on the encounter, and that could make things go very bad very quickly. She just didn't have the time to wait for reinforcements though so instead she focused on unleashing as much hurt as possible herself. A final piece of divanatory magic pulled her into a _Critical Strike_, and she then unleashed both knife and crossbow bolt at the informant.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Both against flat footed.

Crossbow: (1d20+7)[*15*] for (1d8)[*1*]+(3d6)[*13*]
Knife: (1d20+12)[*26*] for (4d6+2)[*15*]



"You know a lot of people think the 'Loundly talk about the person you're trying to kill until they turn up and ambush you first' is outdated as a method for finding your targets. Really I think it can work you've just executed it poorly."

----------


## Molan

Both the knife and the crossbow bolt flung through the air and slammed into the informant's chest, erupting in a fountain of blood and sending him crashing to the ground, immobile.

The other three turned around, their cold eyes ablaze with shock and anger as they took her in. Each of them drew blades from their belts -- two short, one long -- and they each seemed to grip or twitch their weapons ever so slightly. The motion appeared to activate latent magic hiding inside the weapons. Violent angry arcane energy crackled to life, and glowing lights slid down the length of their blades towards their points, illuminating runes and grooves that had been carved into them that Barbara hadn't seen until they lit up. The way the magic popped and hissed and buzzed it was clear to her the enchantments had been performed by a sloppy arcanist -- this was the work of brute force, of raw power, not of talent or finesse. Still the "ugliness" of the whirring enchantments likely wouldn't do anything to blunt their lethality. She prepared to defend herself as the three remaining thugs rounded on her.

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

If you rolled for initiative I missed it. I'll go back and look at your post but if you didn't feel free to roll here or OOC.

Daaaaaamn good job on those attacks, hopefully he doesn't bleed out before you can reach him lol. Were you expecting one of those shots to miss?

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## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: OOC: Timing*
Show

Most of this happens during the 'follow Kate' portion of the scene, before initiative is rolled; I'm just adding color to it now.  If the timing doesn't work out, Molan, let me know.


_"Where the hell are you going, Kane?"_

The kid hisses this question to himself as, having crossed the street and scrabbled up on another rooftop anticipating that to be the trajectory of the Dame's direction, he finds she is ultimately heading to the side of the street he was on anyway.  Perched on the edge of a building, he huffs in irritation at the warrioress's unpredictability - or rather, in projection at his own disappointment in his skills of discernment.  The bat guiding her - almost certainly Oracle's creature - seems excitable, though he cannot tell if that counts as urgency.  But a juvenile sense of refusal - the kind that forbids one to step on any of the white tiles if you can step on all the black ones - forbids him from crossing the street on foot, again, spoiling any stealth approach he might have had.  So he pulls his last Longstrider potion from his pack and tosses it back, feels the familiar strength infusing his little legs, aims at the ledge on the other side of the main street, and jumps.

The feat would be called superhuman, for those not initiated in the mysteries of the League of Shadows.  From a crouching start, the boy turns into a horizontal blur of red and green that scythes through the intervening air in total silence and lands with eerie gentleness on the rooftop on the other side.

*Spoiler: OOC Mechanics and stuff!*
Show

Jump skill is 12.  Ninjas can make jumps from a standing start as if they had a run up.  Taking ten, Damien can normally jump 22-6 for 16ft in a bound.  The potion of Longstrider increases his move speed to 30ft, eliminating the -6 penalty for his 'halfling' move speed.  So with a Take 10, he can bounce 22ft.  And my once-per-scene use of the skill trick _Extreme Leap_ means that if I jump 10ft or more in a round, I can use a swift action to extend the jump by 10 ft, to a muscular _32f leap from a crouching start, all the way to the other side of the street._

It's about that point that I think the initiative kicks in?  If that's so, this is Damien's action for the round:


After touching down, he can see the curve of the alley path up ahead; though not what it holds; and after vaulting across the intervening space between one house and the next, he creeps up to peer over the edge and take in the scene below.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show




> Jump skill is 12. Ninjas can make jumps from a standing start as if they had a run up. Taking ten, Damien can normally jump 22-6 for 16ft in a bound. The potion of Longstrider increases his move speed to 30ft, eliminating the -6 penalty for his 'halfling' move speed. So with a Take 10, he can bounce 22ft. And my once-per-scene use of the skill trick Extreme Leap means that if I jump 10ft or more in a round, I can use a swift action to extend the jump by 10 ft, to a muscular 32f leap from a crouching start, all the way to the other side of the street.


I love this. Love it.

Anyway you are "in" initiative order but you're still hidden so you can act with surprise.


As Damien peered over the edge of the roof, he could see the silhouettes of three figures, illuminated by the glow of their angry, crackling enchanted weapons, turn and advance "east", towards the alley Kate was walking into from the main road. Between the men and the alley, Damien saw Oracle, hooded and masked and shrouded in darkness, with a halo of knives spinning around her body. 

There was a body on the ground behind the men -- he couldn't tell if it was a corpse or just a mortally wounded adversary, but whoever it was was bleeding out on the ground, as though the men with the magical glowing swords had just cut him to pieces.

One of the blades glowed purple, the other two were blue. One of the blue blades was longer than the others. He had no idea why Oracle had challenged the thugs, but the bleeding body on the ground behind them seemed like as good a hint as any.

As they approached, Kate walked through the alley, Julius hovering over her head. She saw the men approaching at the same time as they saw her.

----------


## Feathersnow

Hi!  This is awkward.   Would you kindly mind  surrendering?  I don't have my stuff with me, and destroing you without it would take forever and ruin my dress.

*Spoiler: OoC*
Show

Kate is in civvies with no weapons, and i intentionally picked utility and defensive powers based on the assumption this wouldn't happen.   Huh.

(1d20+3)[*4*] intimidate

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: ic*
Show



Verena, Stephanie confirmed, after mention of the Shipmasters daughter. Her father works for the Merchants Guild. I already said Im low on leads, so its time I start pocket flirting again. Been awhile, so hopefully Im still subtle. But this outfit is a little too hot right now; Ive gotta get this makeup off. Slip into something milder. Probably head out the back window. Who knows if the front door is being watched now.

Her gaze drifted off to half-admire how well the singer had done for herself in such a short period of time. All they saw was you heading off with some overeager fan, Stephanie reminded when she regarded Robyn again. They cant pin much on you unless they know who I am, and dug into my past a bit. Youre safe for now, but no way thatll hold if we go any further. Help me figure out a disguise and exit, and I can disappear again before I bring the roof down on you. Okay? 

*Spoiler: Action plan*
Show



1) New disguise, new you! *24* (+9, +5 Minor Changes, +10 Take 10). Add a +2 if Robyn assists successfully, & +2 more in the incredibly unlikely case she has a disguise kit lying around for props or something, because Bard. Try to dress up as Atha, unless Robyn advises against it (which Im very open to). All Im really looking for is a disguise that allows me to blend in to pickpocket/fish for riddles. Equally, if shes in, Im happy to +2 any disguise she might wear. 

2) Use Rope *22* if the only available back window is on the second floor. This way, if anyone is watching the front door, they see nothing. Or really, any exit that allows a sneaky way out. If theres no window big enough so I have to use the front door (possible; who knows what the elves are like) Ill just have to go with it. 

edit--- I can Bluff to Distract (26) & Hide (*25*) in the Crowd if I +have+ to go through the front door.

3) Priority is to pickpocket elves, as that seems to be Nigmas key support group. Sleight of Hand. *20* unless Robyn is around and somehow assists. (maybe I should answer those questions about her build.)

4) Anyone that picks up on it, play it off as a friendly attempt to get a little handsy while walking in the other direction, saying they dropped this, and other bluffs. *26* unless Robyn assists for more.

----------


## JbeJ275

"You're really bad at this whole, 'not getting beat up by your targets thing, huh. Now I'd advise you to back off. Maybe tell the cortesean that "time has come, your quarry tract" or I don't know, find someone who's less of a prick that you can work for. Otherwise, you're going to see what happens when you're not only outgunned but also outnumbered in five, four, three, two..."

As she spoke she resisted her urge to hide behind Kate, instead putting her full focus on dodging any incoming blows and holding them at bay verbally while she walked slowly towards the bleeding informant attempting to display confidence in every part of her movements. Hopefully, the presence on the roof was in fact Damien, and not onne of their reinforcements who fit the same profile, or she'd be in a lot of trouble.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


They must have herd of our exploits and we took that guy down really quicky so I'm going to see if they don't want to reconsider this engagement at least for long enough for us to retrieve the informant. 

Going to engage in total defense, walk towrds them with my bluff and if allowable have the knife for this turn (it's an immediete action) readied to strike someone if they go to hit me.

Bluff: (1d20+5)[*20*]

Knife just in case: (1d20+11)[*19*] for (1d6+2)[*4*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

*"Hah. Who's room did you think you were in?"* Robyn teased playfully. She let go of one of Stephanie's hands but held onto the other, walking her over to the aged, elegant, wardrobe on the far wall and flinging it wide open. 

Inside was perhaps as many of a dozen outfits, most are all of them fit for a stage performance, which was an enormous amount of clothing for someone who wasn't lavishly rich. At her vanity, Robyn also revealed a collection of wigs, a dazzling horde of makeup, and a collection of expensive looking jewelry. Although Stephanie suspected that most of it was fake, the gems and rings would make for compelling accessories.

*"Where did you get all of this?"* she wondered aloud.

*"I've been doing shows at a Temple of Alobal Lorfiril, if I didn't have a million ways to shape shift they'd have tossed me out with the bathwater!"* she laughed. *"We usually wear at least a few minor illusions through our acts anyway, even mundane makeup often isn't enough. Though if I'm being completely honest I nicked a fair bit of this from the Bard's before I skipped Midtown. And a lot of the rest of this stuff is just donated. The Seldarin prize communion after all. I sing, and dance, and the community provides."*

Stephanie eagerly began putting together the pieces for a new outfit, changing out of her last ensemble and putting together a new look, and a new face. Robyn helped her, her expert and experienced hands helping to tie elaborate garments together or delicately apply new makeup.

*"Listen, if you're going to go after one of the Nigma Letters, do me a couple of favors. For one thing, stay away from the Temple of Lastai. One of the courtesans there works directly for House Nigma; if you show up she'll definitely see you."*

Stephanie arched an eyebrow, wondering if she should be worried about this revelation. But Robyn waived her concerns away.

*"Don't get me wrong, she's actually a sweetheart...in her own way. But the Nigma's are too powerful here for the Temples to reject their influence. The only option a lot of times is to cooperate. If you go there, you have to make sure no one knows what you're looking for. I'd avoid it completely."*

She finished straightening Stephanie's hair, and added her next point. 

*"The letters are carried into the hamlet by marked agents of House Nigma. They make themselves obvious, but only to those who know what to look for. Most of the Nigma's spies are completely unidentifiable -- they work for other houses or guilds or gangs, they have other lives, full, unbroken aliases. They're usually the only ones who know what a letter carrier will look like. The messages only go one way -- from the House to it's Spies. Once they have what they need -- information, a job well done, whatever -- they go somewhere else to pass the news back and collect payment. So if you want to find a letter, look for the couriers. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you much more than that, because that's all I know."*

Stephanie mulled over what Robyn was telling her, and eventually settled on an idea.

*"Alright. I think I got it. We need to go shopping, five-finger-discount style. Care to tag along, for old time's sake?"*

The two women exited out of the front of the house, using their careful skills to simply blend into the crowd as they stepped out the front door, to avoid detection. No one saw them leave.

They made their way through the party all through the town, buying drinks to sip, holding hands, and acting as if they were drunkenly fawning over one another and many of the passers by in the street. Most of their work went completely unnoticed. A couple of times they were nearly caught, but managed to bluff their way out of it. Stephanie was good, but Robyn was arguably better, finding more than a few opportunities to make out with willing strangers in the bizarre and lifting valuables from their pockets as she did so.

But for all their efforts, they came up mostly empty handed, around 20 gp, 70 so and 245cp richer, along with a fistful of gems and a couple rings, but no letter. As the evening wore on, they sipped wine at one of the open air bars, and Robyn sighed, somewhat exasperated.

"*Damnit. Nothing. Now what? If there's a courier out tonight, they don't appear to be on the street. And I'm sure they weren't in the Temple Bar either."*


(outside)

The thugs blinked. They seemed visibly started and worried, and though their hissing, crackling blades still lurked dangerously near Oracle's person, they didn't immediately attack.

*"Just who the hell are you dumb hags?"* the Dark Market agent snarled.

*"Do you have any idea who you're crossing?"* another added, angry but daunted. *"The bankers'll spit roast you and hang you in the square if they find out you're in their business."*

As Oracle approached the bleeding man, she could see and sense that he wasn't yet dead, but he was mortally wounded. His thoughts were a panicked race of emotions and terror, and most of them centered in a profound feeling of regret. If he'd had any fight in him before, stabbing him twice in the chest had really taken it out of him.

----------


## MrAbdiel

_Thwip._

A tiny shuriken whipped into the neck of the Dark Marketeer.

An instant later, a second projectile hit its target - this time a somersaulting little ball of red and green, striking the ground amidst the trio of enterprising goons and rising up to his full, unimpressive, childs' height.  Hood hanging low; one hand holds a black teak rod, with hooks at the end; the other fills out a dark leather glove with burnished wooden plates on the back of the gauntlet; his whole form flickering and blurring like the intruding spectre of a bad dream.

"Should've surrendered when the lady asked, knaves."

*Spoiler: OOC Actions and rolls!*
Show

Damien is going to chuck a shuriken - the one he poisoned and never threw the night before, to make use of the poison! - at the one who called Oracle and Batwoman 'dumb hags'.  One of the Dark Knight's easily retained lessons - punish the mouthy ones, and the quiet ones feel it.

*VsFlatfooted* - (1d20+13)[*25*] for *ShurikenDamage* - (1d2)[*2*] plus *SuddenStrike* - (3d6)[*9*].  If he's hit at all and takes any damage, he also needs to make a DC 13 Fortitude save or immediately drop unconscious.

After that, it's just Damien standing inbetween the goons, gauntlet and rod, ninja-tanking valiantly with an AC of 21, and spending 1 Ki point for a 20% miss chance!

----------


## Molan

The thug grabbed his shoulder where the shuriken hit, howling in pain and anger, but he didn't drop. Instead, he locked his gaze onto the little ninja and swung his crackling longsword towards him, cutting a shallow gash across his chest.

The initial blow was excruciating, but worse, the sword burst with arcane energy as he did so, giving Damien a nasty shock.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Sorry bud. 19 on his fort save, 22 on attack and a 27 on miss chance. Statistically I had to roll over 10 eventually lol.

You take 7 damage from the sword and two electrical damage from it's shocking effect.

He does however take full damage from your attack.

It's Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

With a blur of shadows and distortion, the unarmed woman tackles the armed man!

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien moves away from the slash that would have bifurcated him, but not quickly enough to avoid it entirely; the sword's scintillating tip rakes from the top of the left side of his collarbone almost to his navel - a dodge incomplete, for fear of overexposing to one of the other two combatants around himself.  He lets out a sound that isn't quite a yelp or howl, but closer to a _yowl_; a hissing, nearly feline ejaculation of pain from a jaw convulsing from the lighting flash of the weapon.  He lays about with the Rod of Ropes in warding strikes, whirling on the spot, his mangled shirt kicking up like a cape and exposing a skinny, muscular core that might be very flattering on an adult; but on a child, speaks only to some perversely intense training visited upon him - a regimen sufficient to outrun the metabolic firestorm of a young boy's normal growth pattern.  It is an aesthetic that, for whatever ruthless pragmatic power it offers in demonstrable agility and precision, is profoundly ugly on a ten year old.

What Damien does _not_ do, even as blood begins to flow from the smoking groove down his chest, what he absolutely _could_ do, is vanish from sight and void his enemy's ability to lay into him entirely.  For whatever reason, the littlest ninja, who proved so remarkably capable in the Vaults snapping in and out of light's revealing grasp, remains perfectly visible, and attackable.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions:*
Show

None, it's not my turn.  I'm just impatient for this game, and I wanted to throw a little flavor on the damage he's taken.  20/29 HP.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Robyn blushed, smiling wide. 

*"No no, nothing like that. See, the faithful of Lastai aren't much interested in the petty politics the high lords like to play, or petty mortal politics of any kind. Following Lastai requires seeking equality in all relationships, romatic or otherwise -- Imperial, Gothamite and Highborne economics and politicking is anathema. The courtesans of the temple are there to guide others to sensual bliss; they don't so much taken payments, as they "strongly encourage" donations. Nimue more or less agreed to be the Nigma's passthrough as a courtesy and as a way to keep the balance. The Nigma's get what they want, 
 and they leave the archmage and the temple priests alone to conduct their affairs here in the hamlet. Nimue is more doing a community service, than anything. Plus, it keeps the temple well stocked with "donations" from the Nigmas."*

*"I see,"* Stephanie said. *"So is there any chance she can lead us to a letter carrier?"*

Robyn shook her head.

*"They keep the whole process compartmentalized. The letter carriers don't know who the drops are and vice versa. Only the informants have the inside track, and they're still blinded to what happens outside of their own little bubble. But, if we could find that bloody letter, we can learn what the informants' next steps are, or better yet, we could maybe even get a clue as to when/where they were planning to move Verena. Maybe we were approaching this the wrong way -- the night's still only half over, maybe we should see if there's anyone else in this town who's on the Nigmas dole?"*


Kate leapt at the man who's electric sword was now smoldering with the rank smell of Damien's blood as it fried on the blade edge. She knocked him over so hard he looked like he'd been kicked by a horse, and she brought him to the ground like a sack of bricks, inhibiting his sword arm from striking her and driving her spikes into his body. Blood poured from the holes in his studded leather armor and he cried out in anger, pushing and fighting back against her.

*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

How's damage work again? Do you just roll a d6 now or....?


One of the thugs with the shorter blades swung at Damien, but this time he was a bit lighter on his feet. The crackling angry blade ate nothing but air. The second thug tried to hit Kate, but he missed as she bowled past him. He tried stabbing her again once she was on the ground, but her protective amorpha denied him his strike.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Sorry about the delayed response.

It's Barbara's turn again. She's now about five feet away from the closest enemy, so JUST out of reach of anyone without a reach weapon (they don't have any). She's standing over the informant, who's bleeding out.

Feather, we just need to resolve Kate's grapple damage. The Dark Marketeer's clearly in trouble at this point but he was at full health so we'll see how bad you can mess him up.

Abdiel...Damien's luck has returned! I rolled a nat 18 to hit but a nat 19 on miss chance. You're safe!

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## JbeJ275

Almost absent mindedly a knife flew out of Barbara's cloud towards one of the thugs attacking Damien, flying despite little focus on Barbara's part, led instead by her divinatory magic. The majority of her focus was instead on the bleeding man in front of her, as she grabbed any weapons he held off of his person and poured enough healing potion down his throat to stabilise him.

*Spoiler: Rolls:*
Show


Knife: (1d20+11)[*24*] for (3d6+2)[*15*]

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## Molan

Oracle's animated knife slammed into one of the men's backs and he cursed in shock and anger. A splash of blood hit his friend in the face, startling both of them. As the bluish green liquid went down the informant's throat, the gaping holes in his chest began to heal, and with some effort, the crossbow bolt and knife each sort of popped out with a "*splurt!*" sound before falling down on the ground, harmless.

He breathed heavily, his thoughts mired in panic. Oracle could hear his internal monologue, he was genuinely grateful and shocked to be alive, and he clutched his chest, still in an immense amount of pain.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Wow. Another solid round. Good clean damage on the knife attack, and I round up rolling 13 for that heal pot so the informant is now very much going to live (assuming no one tries to coup de grace him later lol).

It's Damien's turn! Little bit of a rough start but we got there! Of course at the time I'm writing this it's not even 6:30 am where Abdiel is so we'll see how early he likes to start his day, lol. We may have to wait a few hours. Joy can play whenever she wants however. Hopefully I did an okay job adding that information you wanted?

Right now there are two thugs up, one injured, one healthy. Third thug is not injured but is getting manhandled by Kate, which historically goes poorly for people like him.

Oracle's injured informant is now more or less underneath her, and on his back, not doing anything dangerous.

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## MrAbdiel

Kane smashes one out of the way, and the brawl becomes more even.  He watches the Dame slam into the one who had been lucky enough to land a blow (for luck was all Damien could reckon it was).  Unarmored, she was considerably more vulnerable; and yet she, like he, and committed to the brawl ostensibly to spare him the full weight of reprisals.

He felt a feeling that might have been appreciation, if he would just take a moment to examine it.

He faded back from another scything blade, this one chopping downward a half-inch from his nose, but perfectly down the narrow line of his dodge.  A snap of his wrist released three tiny pinches of flash powder, _pop pop pop,_ each bursting with a wink of light and smoke infront of the eyes of the thugs, before the young Scion juked through the combat to make his strike.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Woo!  The miss chance, it worked!

Alright.  Move action: Improved Feint.  Using the One-Per-Combat skill trick group-fake-out to use it on both of these still armed and threatening goons who are not grappled, with a total modifier of -2.  Each of them is going to make a Sense Motive test (with a bonus equal to their BAB) and try to exceed this: (1d20+7)[*22*].  Either who do not exceed that score are successfully victim of the feint, and are flat-footed to a single attack I make against them on this turn, or next turn.  That's the move action.

Now, depending on if anyone fails, Damien will 5ft step towards someone as necessary and pop 'em with the old shoryuken.  Target preferences are:

1. Guy who hasn't been hurt, if he fails.
2. Guy who has been hurt, if he fails.
3. Guy who is being grappled, because he is grappled and loses his Dex to AC thanks to Kate. <3

Whoever first qualifies, Damien strikes at, with 5 points of Expertise.

*ToHitFlatfoot* - (1d20+5)[*25*] for up to (1d6-2)[*4*] bludgeoning damage, and (3d6)[*7*] sudden strike! AC is 26, Ki dodge fades, end of turn!

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## Molan

Despite Damien's initial misstep dodging the enchanted blade that cut open his chest, but he recovered nicely. He junked another swinging, glowing blade, and tossed out his flash smoke pellets before darting in between the attackers and slamming his blade into the uninjured thug's torso. He swung his sword angrily in retaliation, but Damien dodged it again and the short sword hit nothing but air.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien successfully dodges and feints -- I rolled impossibly low to counter lol. 11 damage to the previously uninjured thug, he tries to retaliate and gets nothing but air.

Kate's turn.

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: ic*
Show



So, Lastais all about equality in relationships, and isnt in love with politics. Explains your enthusiasm over the whole noble alias thing. Stephanies smile was back, if chagrined. Twice she had been insecure in one evening, and twice it had been foolish. _The one person in Gotham I know I can trust  and then I dont trust her. Or maybe just myself around her?_ Only so many people ever made so happy and uncertain at exactly the same time, but Verena was the most important person for tonight. She nodded at the advice to find an informant connection. 

I can pin one name on the Nigma connection: Etria. I swear, wizards are the only people smart enough to swallow libraries whole, but stupid enough to come to party central to prove how hard they can homebody. Digging her up in a hamlet this small should be more than possible, and Im actually in the business of finding someone to read that Codex...Celestia? I think it was called. We might be able to make a deal that even the Nigmas cant. 




*Spoiler: actions*
Show

Urban Tracking (*28*) to try and find mysterious wizard woman!

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Robyn seemed to ponder that for a moment.

*"Hmmm. Etria I don't know. But the hamlet's archmage is An'alda. She's crazy old -- like five hundred years or more. It doesn't mean much outside of the island, but traditional elf communities are always either led by a druid or an archmage. they keep the community attuned with the fey and blessing the commune with magic. She's usually up all night performing research or casting enchantments or illusions. We could check that out?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

I can let you perform Urban Tracking too but I figured I'd have Robyn make this suggestion first and you can sluice out what you want to do.

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## JoyWonderLove

(I like Robyn's suggestion more, let's go with that)

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Stephanie and Robyn made their way to the edge of the village, where they spotted the Archmage's home, covered in glowing lanterns, built with the same swirling, unreal seeming architecture of the other houses in the thorpe, complete with a partial tent on one side that covered a small open air magical lab.

But, as they approached, they saw only a young looking, long haired elf wizard apprentice making his way out of the tent, holding a large heavy looking tome. When he saw them, he looked dismissive and irritated.

*"An'alda has gone to trance, she's not seeing anyone else for a few hours."* With that, he dismissively turned and looked like he was going to walk away without another word.

*"What?"* Robyn demanded, stopping him. *"I though the archmage didn't trance until morning, usually? What gives?"*

The apprentice turned back towards them, losing none of his attitude nor condescension.

*"Fine, don't believe me? Go inside and look for yourself. I'd think twice though; I don't know anyone who'd willingly risk disturbing a fey soul while she's tranced. But hey if you want to spend the rest of your lives as frogs, be my guests."*

*"I don't understand. Is something wrong? Why'd she close up shop early?"*

The elf's eyes narrowed.

*"What's it to you, anyway? You're a guest in this place. You've got no business questioning our ways."*

*"I'm a humble courtier of Lastai, I question nothing."* Robyn shot back, her temper growing. *"What's your problem, exactly? Did your master decide to trance early because she got tired of your mouth?"*

The elf apprentice threw down his heavy tome in a huff, stomping towards Robyn.

*"I don't have to explain myself to you, aiano. Why don't you go back to the Temple of Lastai and keep your nose out of places where it doesn't belong?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make a spot check. You can talk to the apprentice and take any skill checks or actions you want.



*Spoiler: The Brawl*
Show

The remaining upright thug lashed out at Damien, once again hitting nothing but the wind, as Damien deftly avoided the glowing magical sword with another quick dodge. The man on the ground pushed and fought against Kate, attempting to push the spiker off of him.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Another swing and a miss vs. Damien. Kate has to make a grapple check against the guy she's pinning, and only has to beat a 19. If she didn't do damage when tackling him she'll definitely do it now.

It's Barbara's turn.

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## JbeJ275

Barbara aimed her knife at the standing man, then followed up the blow by swinging a sap at the back of his head.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


(1d20+11)[*29*] for (3d6+2)[*9*]
(1d20+2)[*3*] for (3d6-1)[*3*] Nonlethal

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## Molan

Barbara's knife struck the thug who was swinging at Damien, punching into his leg and drawing more blood.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

That guy's now pretty badly hurt. Damien's turn.

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## MrAbdiel

Duck, weave, juke, step.  Now that the flash of pain was fresh in his mind, he was in what his mother had called the demon rhythm: the state of combat awareness that seemed almost prescient with its precision.

With a quick step, he leaped at the foe he had just struck - only to spring backward off the assailants defensively raised knee into a spinning heel kick to the combatant behind him!

*Spoiler*
Show

Feint on the guy I hit last turn; attack on the guy I caught with the feint last turn but did not immediately follow through on!

*BluffForFeint* - (1d20+9)[*17*]
*AttackFlatfootedWithExpertise* - (1d20+5)[*16*]
*damageMin1* - (1d6-2)[*4*]
*SuddenStrike* - (3d6)[*11*]

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## Molan

Damien's feint worked once again, and he managed to completely throw both assailants off before striking the man behind him. The wounds the man had suffered became too much, and he fell into the dirt, bleeding.

The other attacker finally panicked, seeing his friends all go down, and he turned to run, dropping his guard in the process.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien gets an AOO against the fleeing assailant. Feather still needs to roll a grapple check to counter the guy she's wrestling, AND probably roll spike damage against him. Also it's Feather's turn so probably *two* grapple checks, and maybe additional damage?

No one else gets the AOO because no one else is threatening that guy.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien lunges after him, trying to grab into his shirt and slam an elbow into the back of his head!

*Spoiler: AOO!*
Show

*vsFlatfooted* - (1d20+5)[*16*] for (1d6-2)[*0*] (Edit:minimum 1) and (3d6)[*9*]

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## Molan

The thug stumbles but doesn't fall. He's clearly hurt, but manages to clear the zone of the fight as he limps away.

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## Feathersnow

After catching up her borrowed time, Kate continues to wrestle with the armed man!  

*Spoiler: Fight!*
Show

Grapple (1d20+17)[*29*]
Damage (1d6+5)[*8*]

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## Molan

The remaining upright Thug continued to run towards the alley leading back out into the main street, and the crowds beyond, though he hadn't quite reached the turn.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Barbara's turn.

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## JbeJ275

"Stay down." Barbara shouts at the man below her before running after the fleeing man. A knife shoots out at him as she rus.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Taking the the run full round action to catch up with the man but the knife still shoots out for free.

Knife: (1d20+11)[*26*] for (1d6+2)[*6*]

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## Molan

> "Stay down." Barbara shouts at the man below her before running after the fleeing man. A knife shoots out at him as she rus.
> 
> *Spoiler: OOC*
> Show
> 
> 
> Taking the the run full round action to catch up with the man but the knife still shoots out for free.
> 
> Knife: [roll0] for [roll1]


The thug stumbled. He was clearly slowed now by his extensive injuries, but wasn't quite yet on the ground.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Damien's turn. Bring it home!

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## MrAbdiel

He couldn't aim a shuriken while he was engaged in such a desperate chase.  If he slowed down for even the moment he required, the goon would be out of range of an effective throw, making him likely to limp out into the street and relative safety.  Thus, he did all he could do: with a snap of flash powder, the kid vanished from view - though the running man could hear the puffing, angry breath just over his shoulder... coming from empty space.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions:*
Show

Full round action to run, to keep up and get adjacent with him again.  Swift action to burn a Ki point and go invisible.  When the thug inevitably runs, he'll trigger an opportunity attack... which is as follows.

*VsFlatfoot* - (1d20+12)[*32*], for (1d6-2)[*1*] minimum 1, and (3d6)[*8*] sudden strike damage.

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## Molan

As the man ran past Damien, the boy"s invisible blade lashed out, cutting him and tripping him up. He tumbled into the dirt, immobile.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay.

Informant is still docile on the ground. Dark Market Longsword is pinned under Kate. The other two are bleeding out on the ground.

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## MrAbdiel

Fading back into view and shaking out his gauntleted fist, Damien puffs, catches his breath for a second, then wishes he'd brought some kind of healer's kit.  He drops to attempt first aid on the guy, glancing once up at Oracle and giving a utilitarian thumbs up.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions, Not Really:*
Show

Just 'table communication'; Damien will try to stabilize this one in following turns if Oracle is going back to the others - or he's happy to head back to soccerball kick the head of the guy who slashed him.

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## Molan

> Fading back into view and shaking out his gauntleted fist, Damien puffs, catches his breath for a second, then wishes he'd brought some kind of healer's kit.  He drops to attempt first aid on the guy, glancing once up at Oracle and giving a utilitarian thumbs up.
> 
> *Spoiler: OOC Actions, Not Really:*
> Show
> 
> Just 'table communication'; Damien will try to stabilize this one in following turns if Oracle is going back to the others - or he's happy to head back to soccerball kick the head of the guy who slashed him.


Damien did what he could to try to help the man he'd felled. He'd been taught some basics about how to treat his own injuries.

When he rolled the man over, though, he coughed up blood, and Damien quickly realized it was about to die. He quickly dove into a slapdash effort to keep him alive, hastily bandaging wounds and performing CPR to get him breathing, before eventually inserting a makeshift tracheostomy to clear some of the pressure from his lungs.

The bloody effort was shoddy, but it worked. The man slipped into unconsciousness but his ragged breaths kept coming.

Back where Oracle and Kate were, the second thug continued to bleed into the ground.

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## JbeJ275

Oracle moved over to that bleeding form, now murmuring complaints over serious failings in the syllabus of the mage guild.

*Spoiler: Rolls to stabilise. DC15*
Show


(1d20)[*18*]
(1d20)[*14*]
(1d20)[*10*]
(1d20)[*20*]
(1d20)[*19*]
(1d20)[*4*]
(1d20)[*1*]

----------


## Molan

While Damien worked to save his victim's life, Oracle bent over the other thug and did the same, her cloud of knives whirling above her, ignoring the man on the ground. Her task was a bit easier than Damien's, though most men were in terrible shape. Eventually, she was able to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized.

Only two thugs remained conscious; the one under Kate and the informant, who stayed on his knees, hand over his head in obsequience.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Since we're out of combat time now...
Damien stands up over the body of his fallen victim-patient, looking at the battered, badly injured man.  He'd think twice before considering getting involved in -...

Come to think of it, he had no idea why they were fighting this fight.  He'd just jumped in to help Oracle.  He ran back to the main cluster, and began adding his fists to the beatdown on the poor schmuck Kate had pinned.  Once he's out like a light from subdual blows, and the danger is passed, he runs back _again_ to the fallen runner, confiscates his magical weapon, and begins rifling through his belongings for other things to confiscate.  Perhaps even clues.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle turned back to the informant she'd perforated at the very beginning of this fight, her knives slowing in their rotation and all turning to point towards the now awoken man.

"So, do you want to go through that again, one way this time of course? Or do you want to tell me where you get the messages for those lovely coded notes you've been so generously handing out?

----------


## Feathersnow

Didn't anyone ever tell you its not nice to attack kids or get beaten up by unarmed women?  I wear my nice dress to go shopping, I don't have a lot of civilian clothes, you know...

She looks to the others...

What was this all about, anyway?

----------


## Molan

The informant held up his hands, reinforcing his surrender.

"*Alright, alright! Please, just take it down a notch, okay!? I just pass the information along, I didn't want to hurt anyone!*"

It was a pretty unbelievable defense, not least of we which because of the weapons the informant had carried on him before he'd been felled, but also because Barbara could still read his thoughts, and knew he was ready to say anything to avoid being stabbed to death. He wasn't a good man; he'd hurt people. But he was also a coward, desperate to survive. And that could be enough.

Oracle made it clear how little she thought of his protests and excuses, and he continued to stammer.

"*Twelve Gods, I'll tell you whatever you want, okay!? The Nigmas have money in most of Gotham's major crime gangs, and the gangs have informant's all the way down to the gutters. They see everything, they watch everyone. I just bring back the whispers and rumors I pick up and I pass along money to keep the information flowing. I send the information back to the Nigma's though one of the whores at the Temple of Lastai. I get the riddle notes from someone else.*"

Barbara didn't need to do much additional convincing, but she pressed one of the hovering knives to his throat anyway.

"* It's an elf, okay! The archmage's apprentice, Lorath. He gives me a coded note, I gather the whispers, I pass em back through the temple. That's ALL!*"

But Oracle continued to press, demanding to know about Verena.

"*They moved her. They were holding her at a village near the old carnival grounds, but she's gone now. They saw you coming miles away. I don't know where they put her, but I guarantee you she's still on the island. The Nigmas know their strength, they wouldn't bring her back to the city. I was supposed to get these guys to find you and pass the information back tonight. Lorath was expecting me to show up and pick up my new instructions before daybreak.*"

He looked up at the sky. It was dark, but it was incredibly late -- really, very early in the morning.

"*He's gonna notice if I don't show up for my handoff. You're out of time -- that girl's not going to last long once the Bankers know the jig is up.*"

*Spoiler: Barbara only, Detect Thoughts*
Show

The informant was telling the truth. He seemed certain that Verena's life would soon be forfeit if he failed to collect his next instructional letter.

He also seemed certain the party was screwed -- even if they could decide the letter, how would they know what it meant without his context knowledge? Even decoded the letter would rely on internal knowledge of their skullduggery. 

Barbara could see flashes of images of the contacts the informant described. The "drop", the Lastai courtesan from the Temple; she appeared in his head naked, her form curved around some pillows in a darkened room, a huge snaking green "?" Painted on her body running from her navel to her collarbone. 

"Lorath", the apprentice. A long tunic. Ling, dark hair, narrow face. Dismissive, pensive expression. A huge book he used for his studies, easy for stuffing in sealed letters and moving them around unnoticed.

If Barbara met either of them, she'd recognize them.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien loots the spoils of justice while Oracle goes about her explications.  Hes particularly careful to scabbard and pack away the magic swords in his haversack; but hell take any money, written material, or other things that look valuable, dangerous, useful or magical.

----------


## Molan

> Damien loots the spoils of justice while Oracle goes about her explications.  Hes particularly careful to scabbard and pack away the magic swords in his haversack; but hell take any money, written material, or other things that look valuable, dangerous, useful or magical.


*Spoiler: Damien Only ;-)*
Show

The thugs were all wearing either leather or stuffed leather armor. They had between them two unidentified short swords, an unidentified longsword, an unidentified knife, 300 SP, 40 GP and 800 CP. You also find a fistful of previous gemstones, six total, but without appraising you don't know how much they might be worth.

Two of the thugs carried telltale Thieves Guild skull keys, and the guy Kate tackled had a playing card with a black spade on the middle you recognize as the calling card of the Dark Market.

The informant had an old riddled letter, which he'd decoded, at least implying that the instructions he claimed he'd been given were legit. The letter is written in green ink with a lot of strangely shaped letters, some of which are written in elven script. Black ink in poor handwriting in the margins shows the informant work deciding the instructions. 

You also find:
 - Two Thieves Kits
 - a Forger's Tools
 - a purse full of jewelry market with identifiable family sigils from lower ranking Gotham Noble Houses -- they're all clearly stolen
 - enough Devilweed to kill a horse
 - three unidentified bottles of poison
 - most disturbingly, a scrawled piece of parchment showing the following script:

*"Three women 
 - one of them's a crossbreed, maybe part demon
 - possibly nobles
 - one's a mage

We're checking the temple of St. Cuthbert in Midtown. The half-blood is easy to track. Just make sure they don't show up on SCI.

Someone's looking into the Waynes"*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barara focuses as she draws infomation out through the captive's mind, almost  losing focus at the sudden emergence of a naked woman but soon finding her track again. 

"Hells, this is an issue. We're gonna need to find this Lorath guy and ask him a few key questions too then. Chase this up the chain as fast as we can. I'm sure our new friend here can make the neccesary introductions, I'll try and find our other friend then and we can discuss our options. Still, even if this guy Lorath guy knows nothing they've moved her from a known position recently. And enough men to protect a hostage like that don't move too quietly, we can still try and follow that path even if this coward's advice doesn't pan out. For he'll be our guide, I can keep him honest for that long."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Quote*
Show




> Barara focuses as she draws infomation out through the captive's mind, almost  losing focus at the sudden emergence of a naked woman but soon finding her track again. 
> 
> "Hells, this is an issue. We're gonna need to find this Lorath guy and ask him a few key questions too then. Chase this up the chain as fast as we can. I'm sure our new friend here can make the neccesary introductions, I'll try and find our other friend then and we can discuss our options. Still, even if this guy Lorath guy knows nothing they've moved her from a known position recently. And enough men to protect a hostage like that don't move too quietly, we can still try and follow that path even if this coward's advice doesn't pan out. For he'll be our guide, I can keep him honest for that long."





The informant protests, shaking his head.

"*Come on lady, I've told you everything I know! You can't take me with you, if people see us together I'm toast! I could be killed -- worse, I won't get work anymore! I gave you what you want just let me go!*"

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Stephanies adventures in fey land, volume 1*
Show



Even in the more mundane dress of hair straight combed, a yellow blouse and green overcoat to match the chosen pants, the rogue quietly admired that Robyns own willingness to argue the point when she had been told not enough to make the gamble. That the apprentice saw past her disguise suggested a diviner or enchanter, at first guess. She studied the elf closely as he threw down his tome, and kept her hands buried in her overcoat in a showing of near indifference as he approached her fey touched friend. Deciding not to ram the sai into his throat immediately, it was obvious he would never have approached if the apprentice intended to spit arcane syllables at them. She revealed her hands at that point, holding them palms up in an effort to invite peace. 

Friends, please, this is entirely my fault. Stephanie interjected, in her best accented Sylvan, the language somewhere between the buzzing of bees, the whispering of wind between willows, a dew drop dampening petals. It was a rare treat to speak. The courtier put herself out when I mentioned a deal worthy the attention of an archmage. _Especially_ an archmage, actually. An appreciative glance was all she offered Robyn before continuing onwards. 

But what worthy apprentice wouldnt defend his mentors right to rest, after a challenging day of learning and growth? Analda is lucky to teach you, as am I to meet you. You would be the perfect judge to whether the matter is worthy her true attention. After all, Id feel foolish to attract the loving attention of Lastais faithful, and then go before the Archmage herself, only to realize she has no interest in any offer. You might well be my handsome saviour. 

Stephanie smiled. Tell me, is the _Codex Celestialis_ something worth rousing your master over?



*Spoiler: rolls*
Show



Spot: (1d20+8)[*26*]
Diplomacy: (1d20+20)[*28*]
Sense Motive: (1d20+8)[*20*]

----------


## Molan

The younger elf's eyes visibly widened. She had grabbed his interest pretty much immediately.

"*What do you know about the Codex Sanctus Celestialis? Have you seen it, has it been discovered? Are you telling me the Temple of Lastai's got it? What would the courtiers of the rapturist want with the Codex?*" 

He was still a bit pushy and rude, but it was clear that Spoiler had captured his interest. His demeanor had completely changed from being defensive and dismissive to being perhaps overly eager and pushy. He very much wanted to know what she had to say.

*Spoiler: Roll Results*
Show

 
Sense Motive: You have a strong hunch that the apprentices' early defensiveness was deliberately trying to hide something. You can't tell what it was that he was trying to obfuscate, but there was too many idiosyncrasies not to notice, and he's not nearly as good of a liar as he thinks he is.

Spot: On the ground you happen to notice that the corner of an envelope appears to be sticking out of the pages of the heavy Tome that he dropped.

Diplomacy: Stephanie's easy charms appear to have done it again. You're not sure how for a lowborn human might have gotten trying to talk to a snooty elf like this on his home turf, but your own Fay nature helps lower his guard, your excellent Sylvan accent accentuated your pitch, and dropping mention of a powerful legendary Tome appears to have sealed the deal.

----------


## JbeJ275

> The informant protests, shaking his head.
> 
> "*Come on lady, I've told you everything I know! You can't take me with you, if people see us together I'm toast! I could be killed -- worse, I won't get work anymore! I gave you what you want just let me go!*"


"You know I'd be a lot more sympathetic if you didn't admit to trying to kill my family not two minutes ago. That said, you do raise a point if the informants are as dense on the ground as you say it does no-one any good to let them know more. Directions to the fellow then will have to do I suppose."

With that she turned to the others and asked "Any more questions for our guest? We don't want to miss his check in do we? I'm sure it'll be rather interesting to listen to."

Also with an unstated command she sent Juluis out to search for Spoiler.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Stephanies adventures in fey land, volume 2*
Show



The envelope poked out of the thick tome on the floor indifferently, and it could as easily have been a message to a paramour or a draft letter on an essay she would pay not to read. Stephanie knew she needed another pair of hands on it before reacting unnecessarily.

See, Robyn? It took a bit of persuasion, bookkeeping, and letter dropping, but its all coming together. Thank you for propping this one up. Stephanie grinned at her best friend innocuously, before considering the apprentice once more. It would be best to wring the conversation out a little while his attention was on her. But what do I, personally, know about the _Codex_ itself, friend? Less than yourself, Im sure! What little I do know, however, many do not. Not only has, what was its full name? The _Codex Sanctus Celestialis_? Yes, not only has it been rediscovered, I might know not only precisely who has it currently, but perhaps even exactly what price theyve staked on who might be eligible to sit in the same room when such an exquisite text is finally reopened.

The woman crooked a finger at the elf, and she leaned in conspiratorially. Now, you certainly didnt hear this from me, but Analda is on a _very_ short list of those being considered. By necessity; there were only a tiny handful in all Gotham that could read the arcane angel book at all, but the elf didnt need to be reminded of that. Which makes it a little unbecoming if we didnt invite along a certain apprentice, should she agree to the grand honour, wouldnt you say?

Stephanie hesitated only after letting the bait dangle a second longer, and her eyes dimmed like a shaded faerie lamp as some unpleasant realization dawned on her. She leaned back with a frown and looked at the darkened interior plainly. But if I little know her apprentices good name, let alone if it would be worth interrupting one trance to discuss




*Spoiler: Complex message to Robyn*
Show

Elfs book, keeping letter. Can you nab? Swap with prop? 


*Spoiler: Take 10 Bluff, SoH.*
Show


With the arguing over, time to take 10.

Automatic success for a complex message to Robyn. Also an auto success Take 10 Sleight of Hand, *20*, if she cant do it herself for some reason. But Id much rather she do it while I chat with Mr Apprentice Elf, and it adds a +2 automatically if she has to SoH for some reason.

----------


## MrAbdiel

> "Any more questions for our guest? We don't want to miss his check in do we? I'm sure it'll be rather interesting to listen to."


"I think we're done.  Unless he knows anything about who runs the gambling tent."  He offers this opportunity for personal enrichment to their prisoner even as he is turning his pockets out, scooping up his valuables  - confiscating his sword, and offering it, scabbard, belt and all, to the otherwise unarmed (well, sort of) Kate.  "...Because if you had access to that information, it might make the difference between life and death.  My preference is to put you in the same hole as the others."

He takes a moment to hold up three vials to the light, one at a time, before spiriting them away.  Then, glancing at a folded note, he offers that to Kate, as well.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions:*
Show

Bluffing about how casually they are planning to murder them, to compel maybe some info about the tent, if he knows: (1d20+9)[*14*].  The 'good' longsword sword goes to Kate, if we're heading into a confrontation where she might need more than a flensing cuddle.

Craft: Poison to attempt to identify the poisons at a glance.  (1d20+5)[*21*].

The note given to Kate:


> *"Three women
> - one of them's a crossbreed, maybe part demon
> - possibly nobles
> - one's a mage
> 
> We're checking the temple of St. Cuthbert in Midtown. The half-blood is easy to track. Just make sure they don't show up on SCI.
> 
> Someone's looking into the Waynes"*

----------


## Feathersnow

I see...  well, that simplifies things.  We can't kill this one now.  He needs to send a message:

Tell your masters hiring you was the worst mistake of their short, miserable lives.  Then tell them the Cathedral of Saint Cuthbert is under _their_ protection.  They don't want to know what happens if I have to protect it, but my father will tell them in loving detail after i send them to hell.

----------


## Molan

The informant continues to stammer, holding his hands up in protest.

*"You...you don't understand. I'm not with those three, I'm not a guilder and I'm not with the market. I'm freelance. I don't know what Zucco or Falcone are up to!"*

Damien pressed him further. 

*"The gambling tent dummy. Talk!"*

*"That tent only showed up a couple of days ago. Almost all of the elves avoid it, except for a few who inexplicably took jobs there running the tables. It's kind of caused a bit of a minor scandal, the rest of the villagers think it's taboo to visit. I heard the Archmage was going to boot them out but she was busy dealing with the Nigmas until tonight."*

*"What do you mean? I saw at least two elves running the place; one was guarding the door and the other was tending bar. They were in charge, I'm sure of it. Them and their big ogre friend."*

The informant shook his head emphatically.

*"No one from the town even knows those two. They say they're not even from South Channel Island, or the Elf Houses. They don't let any of their own kind patronize the place, just the tourists from the city."*

That seemed to pencil -- Damien had seen at least six elves in the tent but none of them were gambling.

*"They were talking about some kind of censure or punishment or something for the elves who took jobs there. I don't know anything more about it, I swear."*

He turned back to Kate, feeling his smoldering gaze on her. 

*"And no one's mentioned St. Cuthbert's to me at all. If you've got problems it's with someone else in the city. The Nigmas were only interested in whether or not you'd chase down the girl."*

*Spoiler: Barbara: Detect Thoughts*
Show

The Informant seems petrified of Kate, though less scared of Damien. It's hard to say exactly why, but Damien's threats don't carry as much wait with him so much as the net effect of the three of them interrogating him has him worried. He thinks that you're going to kill him when the interrogation is over and is trying to find a way to talk himself out of it.

But, he is telling the truth about the Temple of St. Cuthbert's -- he wasn't told anything about it, and doesn't know why his compatriots or their bosses would be interested in it.


The informant looks at Barbara. 

*"Lathan works at the Archmage's shop. It's on the other side of town, southeast of here. You can't miss it -- just walk past the big open air bar tent in the middle, and around the commune houses and it's on the other forest edge. Weird looking elf house, partial tent on one side. He's always there whenever his boss isn't trancing, and like I said, she'll be up all night."*

*Spoiler: Damien -- Craft: Poison*
Show

The three vials include one dose of black lotus extract, and two vials of "Oil of Taggit". The Taggit oil itself is alarming; it came from one of the Thieves, but is known in some circles for being a good way to render fellow tavern-goers helpless if they don't notice it sliding into their drinks.


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

The elf eagerly lapped up Stephanie's story.

*"Who has the book!? And who knows about it besides yourself? This is a major discovery. Listen..."*

He looked back at the tent, a worried, sideways look on his face.

*"The archmage...she just can't be disturbed right now. But my name is Lathan, and I can be of plenty of service. An'alda won't go anywhere near that artifact, but there are a lot of powerful people in Gotham who'd be very interested to hear this information, if you follow my drift. Let's make this your and my little secret, and I'm sure we can work something out between us that will be mutually...beneficial."*

He'd leaned in close to Stephanie as he spoke, his voice low. While he did so, Robyn had gingerly stepped around behind him and picked up his tome. She slapped it's hard leatherbound cover, startling him enough to turn him around.

*"I'm sorry sage one. I didn't mean to sound insulting when we met. I was just surprised and flustered her eminence wasn't going to be able to speak to us tonight. I never should have questioned you."*

She pushed the book back towards him.

*"Can we be friends? I'd love to beg your forgiveness."*

Lathan sucked in his breath and snatched the book back, as quickly as he could. He looked over it for a moment before pressing it to his chest.

*"Yes, good good. Fine."*

He turned back to Stephanie.

*"Anyway, about my proposition...do we have a deal?"*

From just over Lathan's shoulder, a flicker of motion caught Stephanie's eye. She tried to pinpoint it, but Robyn had returned to her side, taking her arm and leaning into her affectionately. As she did so, Stephanie could feel her hand behind each of their backs, placing something in her belt pouch.

She smiled at Lathan. Behind him, she found what had caught her eye -- a familiar, happy looking bat, bouncing back and forth through the air, it's semi-audible squeaks tickling her ears.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Uhm...yea. I think that's everything. Your move!

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Thanks for the advice.  Here some advice for you in return: try to wake up before someone steals your shoes."

And then _wham,_ the faux-stached child dropped an elbow onto the prisoner's face, pushing him back over into the warm arms of unconciousness.

It's only then that he stops to lean forward and hiss, touching gingerly at the voltaicly cauterized slash down his chest, wincing.

*Spoiler: Listen, DC: 13*
Show

"Stupid... Stupid.  Careless."  He mutters, presumably to himself.


He produces a needle, pre-threated with coarse string, and makes a rapid, rough few stitches to hold his mangled tunic together.  "We ought to move."

----------


## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: Stephanies adventures in fey land, volume 3: its a crowd*
Show



Stephanie pecked the singer on the forehead when something was slipt into the back of her belt. A little bat distractingly doing loop-de-loops to nab insects buzzing by far behind Lathan also appeared a tad familiar, and that told her it was time to clip the conversation. 

Seems the apprentice has become the master, Stephanie winked. 
Sounds great, Lathan. Youre the most qualified to say if a certain fey soul cant miss her beauty rest for even one evening, and she certainly doesnt qualify if not. A single distasteful glance was given the abode, as though the _Codex_ intermediary might not ever waste her time her again. It was hard to discern if he knifed her and still needed to clean up the crime scene, or if Analda was sleeping behind a hundred wards, but she wasnt keen on investigating it without Oracle leading the way. 

Ill have to pass this on to my patron, but you find me people of quality that want in, and Ill make sure theres an extra seat at the table when it does happen. Now, you were obviously busy before we interrupted. How long until you might know whos interested? Where might I find you to touch base? 

Stephanie leaned forward a little to offer her hand after the details were taken, before happily watching the elf away. When he was beyond all reasonable earshot, she said . 

You...are gonna fit in so perfectly with my friends. Speaking of. An inelegant point of her chin was made. See Squeakers putting on air escapades over there? Thats my friends pet. Its one thing when an apprentice is picking out a local celebrity up close, but its a little different when _bats_ are able to pick me out in town, at range.  She shook her head, even as she nudged them forward to follow their aerial guide. Promise youll help me with my disguises when this is over?

----------


## Molan

*== THE RIDDLE ==*



Robyn winked at Stephanie. 

*"Sure love,"* she whispered. *"Don't get mad at the bat. He seems magical -- such a friendly little fellow!"*

Lathan, meanwhile, nodded eagerly in anticipation.

*"You won't regret this. I need to go meet a colleague of mine, but meet me back at the Temple of Lastai in two days. I can't tell you more until I have instructions, but their are some very powerful high lords in this city -- some very powerful magi -- who would love to see that Codex. But first, you must tell me: where is it? Who has it? I must know if I'm to tell my...no...our benefactors about this transaction."*

Stephanie shook her head and sucked on her teeth disapprovingly. 

*"Ah ah ah. You show me yours, I'll show you mine."*

Lathan looked irritated, but his impatience and eagerness got the better of him.

*"Fine! Fair enough. The Temple of Lastai, two days. You tell me who has the Codex, I'll share with you the reward for finding it, and who's paying. Maybe we'll get a qualified archmage to have a look at it."*

Stephanie winked at him, doing an admirable job to look excited.

*"Can't wait."*

With that, Lathan hurried off, wheeling around the corner of another house and out of sight. Stephanie quickly wheeled around, putting her back to where he'd gone.

*"Put your arm around me, but watch in case he comes back."*

Robyn complied wordlessly, and Stephanie pulled out the envelope Robyn had slipped her. She turned it over, and, as Estanna's Hearth was warm, there was a green wax seal, stamped with the sigil of House Nigma.

*"Well I'll be damned..."* she barely got out, until Julius landed on her shoulder, chirping excitedly. 

*"Damn there you are!"* a small, highborne and slightly annoying voice called out. Robyn and Stephanie looked up and saw a familiar sight -- Damien, Oracle and Kate all walking towards them. *"Who's the damsel?"*

Julius chirped happily and flew back to Barbara, his mission complete.

The party was reunited, at least for now.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Have at it! No turn order at this time.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Could our little friend keep an eye out, to ensure Lathan doesnt circle back to us? Stephanie, her look changed to more casual greens and yellows and straightened hair since they last saw her, glanced to Oracle to confirm it wasnt overstepping boundaries. She had disentangled a little from Robyn when it was clear company had come to them. 

Anyway, allow me the introductions. Robyn, this is Scion. Hes braver at his age than most adults, has a handle on those little ninja star things, and steps more lightly than any rogue Ive met in the Narrows. Beside him is Oracle. She probably has some kind of precognition going on, because she always knows something important about the situation, or else has a spell to resolve it. She single-handedly saved me from the possession I mentioned earlier. Finally, our madam in the sundress is Kate Kane, heiress to her House, with a talent for combat thats rare as adamantine, and makes her thrice as tough. Theyre all here to help Verena. 

Stephanie grinned. Everyone, this is my local contact, Robyn. Courtier of Lastai, close confidante, and the best singer this side of the Gotham. She reached behind her back as an afterthought, a touch theatric. Oh, and she also got us this.

The letter bearing the green question mark of House Nigma was displayed to the other three, before handing it over to the one that procured it. Robyn, would you do the honours?

----------


## JbeJ275

"Don't exaggerte Spoiler. None of my magic is precognitive yet. It'll be at least two years, three months, six days and fourteen hours before I manage any serious precognition." Replies Oracle, with a rare smile at her own joke. 

I'd love to hear the news, though we've got positive IDs of our own on some Nigma contacts here as well.

With that barabar looked carefully at this 'Courtier of Lastai' it was unlikely in the extreme, but it would be foolish to not ensure she didn't match with the informants memories of his Lastai contact.

----------


## Molan

Robyn smiled, accepting the envelope from Spoiler and slicing the wax seal free from the parchment with a quick flick of her index fingernail. Julius hopped off Oracle's shoulder and flitted off to keep watch.

Robyn opened up the envelope and removed the letter inside. It looked strange even as she withdrew it; Oracle and Spoiler recognized it's style instantly -- it looked very much like the letter they'd found hidden on the _Chraal._

The letter was written in Common but it incorporated common, dwarven, gnomish and sylvan letters, often in random orders, with characters completely randomly capitalized or accented. It looked, in short, like the workings of a lunatic. The entire screed was written in green ink, with four lines on the front of the parchment and three lines on the back.

*The Letter:*



> *1. i Am yoUr GUe$t,
> bUt noT yoUR freinD,
> You'LL NeVer kEEp mE,
> in tHe eNd.
> 
> 2. LE$$ [email protected] l0nELy,
> m0r3 thAn @ cr0Wd.
> cUt mE In [email protected],
> jU$t 0nE oF u$ n0w.
> ...


*Spoiler: Oracle: Detect Thoughts*
Show

Robyn is suspicious of this new group of people, but not outright hostile as Spoiler introduced them. She's curious about what you're all up to, but she's not particularly invested. She's much more interested in reconnecting with Spoiler and telling her about someone called "The Cat", and something that Stephanie had going on in the Narrows, but her mind is racing between topics so you can't get any more information.

Stephanie is excited that she managed to find the Nigma Letter, and a mix of eager and anxious to introduce you to Robyn. Robyn's incredibly important to her, and she feels at least a little protective. She's also feeling accomplished that she managed to track her back down.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Surprised no one from the bigger group thought to question Spoiler's casual mention that she'd met Lathan, lol. But no big! If anyone wants to chase him there's still time, and if not, s'all good in the hood. 

There is an opportunity to take intelligence or other skill checks to get hints to the riddles in the letter.

----------


## MrAbdiel

> Could our little friend keep an eye out, to ensure Lathan doesnt circle back to us?


"Charmed I'm sure," Damien says hastilly, not even looking Robyn in the eye but probing Spoiler with his intense gunmetal peepers.  "Lathan?  You met Lathan?  Not 'Lorath', Nigma's man?.  I was hoping we'd get to string him up and whack him with sticks until he tells us what we need to know."  He seems restless to do _just that_, but delays to scurry around to peek at the letter, hopping up and down on the spot to read it over shoulders until someone lowers it for him.

*Spoiler: OOC: Stuff!*
Show

Decided to hold off the immediate pursuit; give Julius a chance to shine.  Not like he'll know the answer to this sealed riddle envelope anyway.  And we know where he works - here, at the arch mage's.  We can torment him at any time we choose. But if we crack the riddles, we know where we have to go on our time critical mission!

Quick question Molan - not to assume anything, but are all the riddles correct, and I should assume anything that seems off is Nigma's weirdness, not an accident in the composition?  For example, "Less than Lonely, More than a Crowd"... Isn't meant to be "More than Lonely, Less than a Crowd?"*Spoiler: Secret Molan Spoilers*
Show

Hey.  So I'm workin' on your riddles, Riddler.  Does Gotham have wind up pocket watches?  Or clocks?  Is one more common than the other?

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle nods her agreement at that, sharing her memories of their target's face and mannerisms with Juluis before letting him flit off again into the night. Then she turns to the riddles.

"The first is all too indirect, it refers to general things that could fit many categories. However, specifying that it's not a friend may be to contrast with something always referred to as a friend. A cat perhaps? The second refers to being less than one in some ways, more than three in others and two in further different ways of looking at things. An odd one certainly. Third is probably the moon. Fourth could be a kite? Fifth is a clock driven by gears, sixth seems to be reffering to the number of letters in the name of each number but that's not really an answer in the same way the others are, seven just seems to be a mercenary, I can't parse anything here that gives further contrasts or clarifications."

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


I don't suppose I can take 10 to get 16 on an IQ check's worth of knowledge and hints?

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien nods along, apparently having come to many of the same conclusions.  "The first is the tricky one - it invites classic, broad answers like 'time' or 'beauty', but I'm lost as to how to narrow it down.  Fourth I thought a _bow_ - being strung, and loosing a fletched arrow.  Or perhaps arrow, since a bow is indeed 'tied'?  But that might be expecting too much of the one writing the riddle.  Fifth could be clock, or pocketwatch; and I'm inclined to say 'letters' is the answer to the sixth.  Shaving off all those first letters doesn't form much of a coherant word though; and lacking the first letter hurts our chances.  Perhaps we ought to run down Lathan - once he figures out his meeting isn't going to happen, he's going to alert the other goons and they'll panic and kill the girl."

He starts jogging in the direction that Julius went, preparing to run down Lathan and begin the process of painful explication, but then skids to a halt, dashes _back_ to the assembly, and snatches, quite rudely, the letter from Oracle's hand.  Gunmetal eyes flick rapidly across the characters and he grins, almost manic with appreciation for his own cleverness, and stuffs the letter back into Oracle's grip as quickly as he had taken it - a roughness that could be considered flat disrespect, or just juvenile exuberance.

"It's not an acrostic like the first one - it's a communique to the goons.    It's _watch_, not clock.   Get it?  _WATCH, LETTERS, MERCENARY?_"  Scion is almost lambent with delight, but manages to stop himself drip-feeding the time sensitive information.  "The guest who isn't your friend is your prisoner - or hostage.  And the second riddle is screwed up, because whoever wrote it cranked it out so fast they transposed the phrases.  More than lonely less than company is two.  And the other one is BOW.  Get it?"  A half beat of excitement, then the revelation: "HOSTAGE TWO MOON BOW WATCH LETTERS MERCENARY.  They've moved Verena to the Temple of Sehanine Moonbow, in the row of temples we saw coming in!  But it looks like Lathan didn't _WATCH LETTERS_ hard enough, because _MERCENARY_ just got 'em.  Come on!  If we get moving now, we can be gone while he's still rummaging around in his own belongings, trying to figure out where he lost the letter!"

The radiation of his childish self-satisfaction would be unbearable, if it weren't muted significantly by the awful fake moustache.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracles eyes quickly scanned the document in response to Damiens revelations.

"Dammit. Youre right. Lets go. But who even wrote these? They literally just described mercenaries."

With her frustration this expressed Barbara joined Damien in his running. In the hope of scouting while running she wove a spell of Clairvoyance to view the temple they were running towards, navigating by her blind sense while she viewed the targeted location. Hoping to confirm Damien was correct and identify what forces were opposing them.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

At first, Barbara felt an immediate pang of excitement. She realized that the emotion wasn't hers; instead it was coming through her mental link with Julius. Her little bat seemed to feel accomplished and self-satisfied. She knew in her gut that he had accomplished his mission and tracked down the elf apprentice.

Her clairvoyance spell took effect, generating a magical sensor hovering in the middle of the street just above the heads of the revelers, surrounded in a noticed by all of the other magical prestidigitations that had filled the air for the night's party. As she jogged blindly, she quickly panned the sensor around, and realized something was off.

In a moment, it clicked. There were 12 Seldarin God's, but the Thorpe had only 7 temples -- Lastai, Corellon Larethian, Alobal Lorfiril, Elebrin Liothiel, Ehlonna, Chaav and Valarian. Five of the gods were not represented -- including Sehanine Moonbow.


Barbara stopped in her tracks for a moment. 

*"Scion wait!"* she called out. *"Something's wrong."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

OOOOOOH you guys are *so* close. Don't give up!

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## JbeJ275

"The Moonbow temple isn't on that row, it's in the middle of the island. Has a ton of stories about it and what happens there but I know the way. Follow me. And ignore the other contact for now, if he's an arcanist worth his salt he'll have divined our reason for coming and sent off a message about it the second you lay your eyes on him, if not we don't need to worry about him just now."

With that she turned on a heel, mentally scritching Juluis and then calling him back as she navigated her way towards Moonbow's temple.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Lathan, Stephanie confirmed, irritation thick when the small lordling swiped the letter out of the singers hands. For all the hug that had helped her cope at her smallest, she only found herself pitying shed never have enough time to inflict sugar cubes on Damien over the coming weeks and months. _Oh well. At least Sniffles never got my scent._ But that was only should she turn down the offer, and it was a great one for protecting the singer. The bat was airborne again and she had only pieced together four words in her mind, but seemed content to leave Oracle to simply brainbox their way to the answers.  

Besides being the perfect suggestion by Robyn to come here, I swung by to see if the archmage in yonder abode was available to talk opportunity. She gestured to the home of the fey soul. But even for an apprentice, Lathan was pretty damn insistent that Analda was unavailable to talk opportunity. Kept claiming she was in a trance, even though Robyn knows better. Is there any way for us to make sure Analdas still alive in there, but without potentially pissing off a resting Archmage?

The Riddle conversation was in full swing between Oracle and Damien, and Stephanie arched a brow when the little boy exalted in solving the whole collection with minimal prompting beyond Oracles additions. House Wayne had more in its future than monster hunts, it seemed. The answers arrived at, Barbara stopped the boy from dashing off in the wrong direction. She evidently knew that the temple they searched for wasnt in the strip of seven the hamlet boasted, but was instead nestled off the beaten track. Again, the wizard knew the right of it. 

Before we go running off into the heart of the forest, now sounds like a good time to get our equipment off the boat. Stephanie said to the spiky but uncharacteristically unarmed demoness, the rogue marvelling at her own ability not to stare. The odd tiefling didnt prepare someone for this kind of acquaintance. Robyn, you lived here for a bit. You know anything about Moonbeams cabin in the woods? 

*Spoiler: equipment/Robyn knowledge checks*
Show

 If Feathersnow pops back to get her stuff, Ill go with and get my leather armour/disguise. I or Robyn can help her with her own armour to speed up the process a little. But if Feather decides to go on regardless without any equipment...Ill roll the dice and go with. 

Also requesting Bardic Knowledge and any other Knowledged she has that might help us now.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Hmm. She might have wards against this but I can try. Catch me if I'm stunned."

With that Barbara endevours to get close enough to the tent to largely cover it with detect thoughts, making no attempt to read the thoughts but at least acertaining the presence or absence of a highly intelligent creature within.

----------


## Molan

*"If we're going to do this,"* Robyn said, sounding nervous. *"Then we have to be careful. The Temple of Sehanine Moonbow is a...complicated place. Her place is to guide elves through their death journey once the time has come, but she is a being of powerful fate and destiny, and many avoid the temple unless they absolutely have to visit. Once, a long time ago, there was a terrible storm in Gotham, and the rivers rose and much of South Channel Island flooded. Hundreds died. Many blamed Deep Sashelas -- relationships between the elf races can be difficult -- but after the flooding abated, the marsh where the Moonbow Temple sat remained flooded, and the Temple began to sink into it. It's still there, but it's been mostly abandoned ever since."*

Robyn's eyes darted around somewhat nervously as she shared a bit of this elf history in the middle of an elf town. She may not have been at _complete_ liberty to tell this tale, based on whatever cultural taboos it might have carried.

*"They say that it's the Sylvan's role to maintain the balance between nature and magic. When the elves don't maintain a powerful connection with the Seldarin, they fey grow restless and unruly. There's a lake in between here and the temple that the islanders avoid like the plague; they say the fey there are unsated and restless. Then, once you get to the marsh, it can be doubly dangerous; the unseelie fey delight in the Moonbow Temple's fall, and they've been known to lurk in the still waters."*

She turned to Oracle.

*"You said you know the way; do you have any way to navigate us through the wood where we can avoid trouble?"*

Spoiler frowned.

*"If it's so dangerous, why would the Nigmas go there at all? Aren't they worried about run-ins with the Fey, or offending the gods?"*

Robyn shook her head.

*"The Nigmas aren't loathed here -- they're elves, after all -- but they're not especially popular either. They're noble but they're an imperial house. They hew to the style and politics of Gotham, and have adapted to the humans' way of doing things. It's not exactly an uncommon move; plenty of elves who live in the empire have chosen to integrate rather than maintain the old ways. But the old ways die hard, and on SCI, the Sylvan follow their ancient, pre-imperial traditions. So any help the Nigmas get from the locals is superficial at best -- they're really tolerating each other, more than anything else.

As far as getting to the Temple...the Nigmas are powerful. They have plenty of friends in the college. I'm assuming they used magic to navigate and protected themselves through the wood. It's the best possible guess."*

Nodding, Oracle walked over towards the Archmage's house, her eyes still radiating energy from her spell. Damien followed close behind. When she passed her spell over the adjacent tent, nothing happened. But when she cast it over the house itself, her eyes flickered a bit, and she made a disappointing sounding grumble. A few moments later, Julius returned and perched himself on her shoulder, chirping consolingly.

*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts*
Show

The house appears warded. Make a caster level check, 1d20 + your caster level. (Note: _not_ your _character_ level, just caster.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okie dokes, thanks for your patience. Anyone want to try to walk into the Archmage's house?

----------


## MrAbdiel

Ill check inside, the ten year old dictates after a Oracles divination seems blunted, but after that, we have to go right away.  The longer we wait, the lower our chance of success at the temple.

This is not necessarily true.  Having the full crew armed for bear and properly protected might indeed be the right move.  But of course Damien demands haste - he is a child, and a one whose training appears to be in rush tactics, ambush, and striking while the enemy is backfooted.  The idea that people need armor, or weapons, to fight more desperately than they need to strike first is alien to him.  Why let them hit you in the first place?  Why arent you carrying a knife anyway?  And so on.

*Spoiler: Ooc actions!*
Show

Damien is going to sneak into the Archmages quarters, with the normal compliment of gallantly high take 10s for stealth!

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Stephanies arched an eyebrow at hearing how dangerous the trip itself was, and that a rushed rescue was safer or wiser than one where they were equipped properly. Robyn, were getting our stuff. Well meet back here ASAP, and then play catch up with whoevers gone ahead. Short of waiting to lay an ambush for Lathan when he figures out the letter is missing, I doubt anyones keen to stick around. Kate, if youre not re-equipping, I can pick up something on the ship, like your polearm. Should I? She effortlessly slipped into Sylvan and touched Robyn lightly on the arm. If you get back here, and theres no sign of me, even after three minutes or so? Forget this whole thing. Head home. Blame any odd behaviour on me. Lathan believed everything I said, and I didnt even offer that guy a name. If thats too dangerous, head to the boat. Ill mention to the crew you might board. Youll be safe either way. Okay?

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## Feathersnow

I'm flattered you think otherwise, and I definitely understand the time element,  but, seriously,  i cant fight like this.  I need my armor and poleaxe, and I should really get my potions.

----------


## Molan

Robyn nodded to Spoiler, and turned to rush home, intent on retrieving her own equipment. Kate and Stephanie turned and went the other way, casually but quickly making their way back towards the dock, where Bruce Wayne's shadowy but reliable ship and it's mysterious crew were still waiting for them. Once on board, Spoiler retrieved her things, and after a moment noticed Kate working to replace her full plate mail. She stepped in to help Kate put the armor back on, and before too long the two of them had re-equipped everything they needed. They hurried back towards the Archmage's house on the edge of town.

Meanwhile, Damien made good on his promise, and stealthily approached the tent adjacent to the Mage's house. When he got inside the tent he noticed that it was set up to be a sort of open-air magic shop, and strewn about were various pieces of furniture devices scrolls and other odds and ends. Curled in a large circular shaped chair, which was filled with soft cushions, a young elf woman slept soundly, her hands still idly gripping her lyre. Damien had no idea who this was, but she didn't look like an archmage. Behind the main desk inside the shop, was a door that led into the house. Damien almost walked through the threshold, when he discovered that the frame of the door was etched in Sylvan runes, and after careful inspection he realized that the runes were active. The door was trapped.

*Spoiler: The Future*
Show

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Sorry everyone but we need to do another quick time jump. I need Damien to take actions if he's going to sneak into this crazy elf witch's house. But he would almost certainly do that while the rest of you are out getting re-equipped.


When Kate and Stephanie returned to the area outside An'alda's house, they found Robyn they are waiting for them. She'd made a rather dramatic transformation. Gone was a lot of her stage makeup, and though her hair was still elegantly done up, she had braided it down to be a bit more utilitarian. She wore a suit of what looked like Master work or possibly even enchanted black leather armor, carried a rapier, a crossbow, and about full of what looked like important alchemical supplies and potions. In order to fit in with the rest of her new friends, she put on a black masquerade mask from one of her costumes, and her long dress had been replaced with a heavy cloak.

*"How do I look?"* she grinned.

----------


## JbeJ275

Accompany Scion, Oracle sidled up to the door and slowly let the runes run through a spell of arcane understanding. Attempting to divine the purpose of the runes and any ways to circumvent them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Casting a _Read Magic_ and taking a 27 on my spellcraft to identify the purpose of the runes, any gaps in their coverage (pass phrases or things like that) and seeing if there's a non-brute force way to get past them.

----------


## Molan

As her spell examines the rooms in the door, Barbara is able to identify two overlapping spells guarding the entryway. The first is a simple _alarm_ spell meant to alert the hous's inhabitants if anyone broke the alarm. The second is a powerful Ward containing the ingredients for a _feeblemind_  spell, which would badly stupify anyone unfortunate enough to trigger it.

Each spell is imbedded with a passcode written in translated Sylvan that allows the spell's owner to pass through the doorway without triggering them.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien frowns at the wards as Oracle decipher's them - but with no way to bypass them himself, he emits a quite, noncommital sound of deflection, a "tt.", then looks at the sleeping elf with suspicion.  "Whoever she is, Lathan didn't want her up and about.  She might have been drugged."

He trots over to where she sleeps, glances around again, and then reaches out to rap his knuckles on the back of the elf girl's hand grasping her lute.

"Hey.  Wake up."

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

If that doesn't work, he'll graduate to prodding and shaking to attempt to wake her.  If there's an empty or half-drunk vessel nearby, he'll pick it up and sniff it for Oil of Taggit.

----------


## Molan

Damien worked to get the elf musician awake, but she didn't budge, remaining in a deep (and uncharacteristic) slumber. Even seeing an elf asleep at all was frankly bizarre...he couldn't think of any time he'd witnessed such a thing, or any time anyone else had.

He looked around for signs that the elves bad drunk anything -- and there was plenty. A crystalize decanter sat on an elegant wooden tray, now mostly empty, and a couple of used crystal glasses sat next to it, one of which was in it's side. 

Damien picked it up and examined the glass.

*Spoiler: Craft Poison*
Show

You're able to identify the offending substance almost immediately; it's Oil of Taggit. 

How do you put an elf to sleep? Apparently you've discovered the answer.

----------


## MrAbdiel

The young skulker's efforts to manually wake the elf fail, and he gives some of the nearby drinking vessels a sniff.  "Oil of Taggit," he pronounces for presumably Oracle's benefit, "She'll be out for hours.  If Lathan is the right kind of knave, he might have slipped it into her drink then brought her back here.  This is the right kind of shop - help me find a potion of _Delay Poison._  Or a direct _Oil of Taggit Antidote_."

*Spoiler: The Searchening*
Show

Searching the tent for either a potion of Delay Poison or an antidote to Oil of Taggit.  I've got Antitoxin, but all that'd do is give her a bonus to the save she already failed.  So here's to searching, and I hope Oracle does better!: (1d20+2)[*19*].  After that initial search, he'll get frustrated, stop for a moment to go behind a cupboard or something and change into his gi, and then come out and start taking 20 on that search, since they can't go anywhere till the others get back anyway!  In that case, he'll be taking 10 to listen to hear Lathan coming back: 18.

----------


## Molan

Most of the vials that Damien found out in plain site weren't what he wanted; some were non magical, others were things that wouldn't help like _Potions of Fox's Cunning_ . 

Not seeing anything, Oracle joined the search, pointing out that there were several locked cabins inside the tent they hadn't checked. She began inspecting one of them and Damien looked into the others.

They weren't warded or trapped -- that seemed a little odd, but whatever they contained might not have been especially expensive, and surely the Archmage's reputation on the Island preceded her enough to Ward off casual thieves. Oracle got one tall cabinet opened and found it filled with spell regents and elixer components; a completete mishmash of items that had low values on their own, but we're uniquely useful to the wizard or alchemist employing them. Still, not quite what she was looking for.

But, there was a shorter cabinet on the right side of the tent, sitting just near a wooden chair and a writing desk, and when Damien managed to pry that one open he couldn't help but suppress a self-satisfied grin. It was a poison cabinet, or almost all of it was. Damien could identify at least thirteen different vials and components right away based in his training. And at the bottom row.... antidotes.

There were probably twenty or so delay poison potions. But only three vials of actual Oil of Taggit Antidotes. Still, he only really needed one.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Got it."

Damien plucked up one of the antidotes.  There were fewer of them, but a specialized antidote would cost less than half of what the potion of Delay Poison would - and since this Archmage seemed to be an _excellent_ poison broker, he'd rather not damage the foundation of their ongoing fruitful relationship.  He took the tiny finger-sized vial, thumbed off the cork, tilted back the passed-out musician's head, and tipped in the antidote, holding her nose to force an autonomic swallow.

----------


## Molan

> "Got it."
> 
> Damien plucked up one of the antidotes.  There were fewer of them, but a specialized antidote would cost less than half of what the potion of Delay Poison would - and since this Archmage seemed to be an _excellent_ poison broker, he'd rather not damage the foundation of their ongoing fruitful relationship.  He took the tiny finger-sized vial, thumbed off the cork, tilted back the passed-out musician's head, and tipped in the antidote, holding her nose to force an autonomic swallow.


It took a few moments, but eventually the unconscious elf woke back up, her eyes flitting open groggily before she finally shook herself awake, reacting in bewildered alarm to her surroundings.

*"What the hell? What happened!? Who are you people?"* she sputtered. She seemed completely lost and disoriented.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Doesn't matter who we are," the cowled kid immediately retorted, "keep your voice down.  We're strangers to the island looking to help someone out, and you got caught in the collateral-help zone.  You've been drugged.  You should be alright now.  Do you remember coming here, to the Archmage's residence?  Or do you not remember that at all?"

*Spoiler: Interrogation*
Show

Feel free to take the scene and run it a little Molan.  I presume Oracle is on the same page with Scion here, in that they're gonna run through the obvious questions - who are you, who were you drinking with, do you know why you're here, what do you know about the archmage, etc.  To save us going back and forth (I'm about to step out for several hours), you and Oracle can take the reins and move it on if you want!  If we can't discover the fate of the archmage and end up having to got to meet our deadline, Damien's going to pilfer a couple of cure light wounds potions and another potion of longstrider, leaving their value in gold locked in a drawer.

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: In The Future, No One Can Hear You Swoon*
Show



Spoiler, all iconic purples, black leathers and a still cracked half mask herself, started on her approach. The bards transformation had been thorough, and it took a moment to fully drink in the change from courtier and crowd favourite to reborn liberator and vigilante. Like I better do all the talking when we get to Verena, she replied, still in the Sylvan tongue, when she moved towards her cohort again. We dont need that poor girl swooning on top of everything else shes been through. 

Spoiler swept her gaze over the few present, finally settling for Common. Ill take point. I have an idea about the area itself, and we should be able to talk our way past the fey holding the lake and marsh. The lakeside only wants restitution, and the marshlands to hear were like-minded. Easy enough, all told. Well make up for lost time that way, or else simply have extra firepower to greet Nigma with.  

*Spoiler: 10s that are Taken*
Show

 
Diplomacy lakeside: 30. (persuade agitated fey: it was awful you were abandoned; let us safe passage, and within two weeks, you will have one to tend the lake for at least two months) 
Bluff marshland: 26. (lie to ruinous fey: were taking a stroll at night so Moonbow can +++see+++ us smash up all her stuff even more, woooo!)

This is also presuming no assist from Robyn, but Im guessing she would?

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien and Oracle*
Show

The elf shook her head, still seeming disoriented.

*"Come here? No. I Live here."*

Damien and Oracle shared a sideways glance; that didn't seem completely likely, given how they'd found here.

*"Well, not here here. I live in the co-op next door. I'm the Archmage's lyric thaumaturge."*

*"The what-what now?"* Damien replied.

*"A Lyric Thaumaturge is a type of Bard,"* Barbara added somewhat helpfully. *"It's an art of thaumaturgy that allows Bards -- who are otherwise somewhat magically stunted compared to a proper mage -- to significantly enhance their spellcasting powers."*

*"....kay. Fine. But why does An'alda have one sticking around?"*

*"I'm here to help her, you impudent bhin."*

Damien stared at her blankly. But Barbara was able to put two and two together.

*"You enhance the Archmage's abilities with your music,"* she concluded. *"...and in exchange, she...what. Tutors you in enhanced arcana?"*

*"Wow, you two really aren't from around here."* the still loopy elf snapped drly. *"Of course that's what we do for each other, why else would I be here?"*

*"Okay, wait a minute..."* Damien said, rubbing his temples. *"You're telling me...correct me if I missed something...that your job is to sit around here all day and get drunk and high and play bard melodies to help the Archmage concentrate? That's your whole job."*

The last sentence was technically a question, but he snapped it like a statement.

*"Well, the Archmage, yes, but also her apprentice Lathan, yea. And I get paid in free booze and magic tutelage and pretty much anything else I need. Of course. Why else would I be here?"*

*"Okay, fine. Then is this the first time that you got knocked out by a spiked drink or is that sort of part of your creative process?*

Finally, the elf seemed to be coming to her senses. Her eyes widened.

*"I what!?"* she demanded, shooting up from her couch.

*"Yea. Like I said. You were drugged. This substance is called Oil of Taggit,"* he said, dangling one of the vials. *"It's a pretty low brow drug, but I found it lacing your drink, and I found you asleep, which I'm pretty sure wasn't supposed to happen. We just gave you an antidote."*

The elf's eyes narrowed.

*"But who could have.......Lathan."* she hissed, finally making the connection. *"Where is he?"*

*Yea yea, we'll fish him up for you. First we need your help. This shop isn't supposed to be closed -- An'alda is missing, we need to see if she's dead or unconscious inside that house, and since you work here I'm betting you know what kinds of wards she has protecting the place. For example, any chance you know the passcodes to the wards on that door over there?*

It turned out, she did. And once her colleague's duplicity had been made clear to her, she quickly became much more helpful. The thaumaturge provided them with the locations of the other wards inside of the house, and the passcodes to get by them.

*"Good luck in there. If An'alda is dead....there'll be hell to pay."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Let me know what actions you'd like to take vis a vis entering / searching the house.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Scion and Oracle - Partners Against Crime*
Show

"Well.  You've _bhin_ very helpful."  Damien notes as the closest he has come to direct appreciation; lingering by some healing potions on the wall for a moment before snatching and drinking one, counting out some coin and leaving it in its place on the shelf.  He gives Oracle a 'Here We Go Again' look, then moves to the now door with the passcodes on his tongue...

*Spoiler: OOC Searchin'*
Show

Damien will wait for Oracle every step of the way - she's clearly got all the skills to see trouble ahead of time, and they've fallen into a pattern right now where he doesn't have to say that out loud.  He'll do his best listening [T10: 18] but Oracle's got the search that matters. 
 They'll use the information given to them by their new friend to not walk into any Magic Brain Damage spells, and they'll try as they can to find Alan Alda.

I mean An'alda.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Spoiler: Scion and Oracle - Crime Police*
Show


"You know, in the mage college, "don't go into the private chambers of an unknown archmagi, without her express permission and at least three levels of abjuration" wasn't so much what they taught us on the first day, as much as something you wouldn't survive the first day without knowing it before you arrived. If I die, you have to tell Professor Yvonne that you got me into this mess."

With her complaining done, Barbara moved forwards, feeling as much as seeing for the slight eddies in local magic that signified wards and navigating past them as she sought out An'alda.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Taking 10 for 27 on spellcraft and 25 on search to ensure all the wards are handled properly and to find Alan Alda

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Inside the Archmage's House*
Show

Oracle made her way inside. The interior of the house was strange, but simultaneously familiar. The furniture all looked hand carved, but took on curving and swirling patterns that made everything in the house look just a little distorted; upon closer inspection, it became clear that the furniture wasn't so much as carved as it was _grown._ Most of the house seemed to have formed like a tree right out of the ground.

It was filled -- or more accurately, overflowing -- with a dizzying variety of plants, pots of herbs and jars of strange liquids and animal parts. Papers, most of them scribbled with arcane writings, were scattered over most every surface, and there were several smoldering incense burners, filling the place with the faintest air of smoke. Many of the corners of the ceilings were filled with spiderwebs and the eight-legged inhabitants seemed to watch and track their movements as they made their way past each ward and trap. At one point, a cat appeared from under a couch, and it stared at them meaningfully, almost analytically, before hopping away and heading upstairs to the middle level of the home.

Though Oracle was mostly focused on making sure she properly identified and deactivated each protective ward in the house (there were almost _a dozen_, despite the fact that the house was relatively small. But the cat seemed immediately significant; her suspicions were confirmed when she saw it hop through a doorframe without disarming any of the wards. The runes in the frame flashed for a moment, but didn't disintegrate the cat. Oracle knew that she probably wouldn't have nearly as much luck, so she shut the trap down before following the cat into the room.

In the middle level of the house, which only covered about half of the structure, and was mostly dedicated as a kind of lounge area, one the Archmage likely used to trance, given the layout. The exterior facing wall was almost entirely a bay window, and a long low table sat in the middle, in front of a long, low couch.

Unfortunately, laying on that couch, was an incredibly ancient (by elf standards) elven woman, lying prone, one hand dangling off the side, breathing slowly. There was a wine glass on it's side on the floor.

Several drawers had been opened and rummaged through, and a tall armoire was ripped open, clearly missing several items. If Lathan had drugged his master and ransacked the place, he clearly had no intentions of coming back.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Spoiler: Scion and Oracle - Crime Police*
Show


"Dammit. Ill get more antidote. You confirm that this really is Taggit."

Oracle then ran back beyond the wards to retrieve a further antidote quickly filling in the bars if she remained and if she was willing bringing her in to vouch for their actions and intentions.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Oracle And Scion: Crime Police*
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Damien knee-skids to a halt beside the incapacitated Archmage, taking up and carefully inspecting the wine glass for the signs of Oil of Taggitt- or else, something much worse!*Spoiler: Takin my 10 downtown, walking fast*
Show

Take 10 for 15 craft poisonmaking.

----------


## Molan

The bard, as it turns out, was named Eluveitie, and though she was a bit moony and vapid, her anger at being drugged and deceived by her colleague had sharpened her resolve. Damien confirmed that the Archmage had, indeed, been drugged with Oil of Taggit, and Barbara and Eluveitie made their way back to An'alda's transing lounge, where they were able to resuscitate the ancient mage.

It was a tough conversation. Lathan was a longstanding member of the elves' little community, and his betrayal was a deep shock. An'alda was difficult to talk to at first, and she was furious. But her little feline companion and her bardic assistant eventually managed to slow her rants down enough that she'd listen to the two adventurer's who'd brought her back from her unwilling slumber.

An'alda revealed then what Lathan had apparently stolen -- one of An'alda's more expensive and powerful spellbooks (of which she apparently had _eight,_) and several _elixirs of love, truth,_ a _candle of truth_, and a _lantern of revealing_.

The items were incredibly valuable -- thousands of gold worth of losses. But they also weren't significant enough haul to justify betraying the village, angering the archmage and giving up his apprenticeship. Whatever Lathan's game was, he'd clearly found a new patron to work for. 

An'alda and Eluveitie were fairly fixated on finding and punishing Lathan, and the archmage offered the party a fistful of gold if they could track him down. When Damien and Barbara insisted that they had to go into the woods to find Verena, An'alda accepted their decision. As a way to say thank you for helping relieve her and her apprentice from the drugs they'd inadvertently ingested, An'alda gave Barbara a _wand of Fox's Cunning,_ and a scroll tube containing several spell scrolls. She also gave Damien permission to retrieve any three poison vials from her cabinet, and handed him a vial of _dust of disappearance._

The four of them stepped back outside the Archmage's house, and ran into Kate, Stephanie and Robyn, who'd only just reunited. An'alda recognized Kate, and told her that if she was friends with Oracle and Damien, then An'alda would knock off 10% from the enchantment fee for the glamor enhancement once Kate was finally able to come back.

Finally reunited, the party made their way from the Archmage's house and into the haunted woods of South Channel Island, their sights set on heading north. Sunlight was already starting to kiss the sky -- they'd been out almost all night -- but under the creeping canopy of the wood, the shadows reigned and the group remained shrouded in darkness.

Eventually, the trees began to thin out, but not by much. In the distance, the party could almost make out the glint of water through the trees.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make search checks, or any equivalent actions you want to at this time.

Sorry it took me so long to post, it's so hard to get anything done sometimes lol.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"If we find him before you do, we'll be sure to bring him your way.  I have a feeling the local arrangements for justice are... more that suitible."

Damien decides he likes An'alda and Eluveitie - the reasons are not entirely clear, but might stem from the back that both initially grumped at him before clarity forced them into a posture of appreciation.  They don't have to fight too hard to reward him - he takes the dust of disappearance with glee, slipping it away into his pack along with three vials of carefully selected, sluggish purple liquid.  He confesses early to his seizure of a healing potion, points out the gold he left, and goes ahead to purchase another three such potions, along with two _Longstrider_ tonics to replace those he's used.  For all his swiftness, he was limited by his little legs; and anything to compensate for that edge loss was pleasing indeed.

Then they're trekking together through the woods.  Damien chatters, quietly, openly, about the gambling tent he was in; the oddness of it as an operation on the island, and his desire to investigate it further.  But soon the conversation comes back around to Lathan.

"He lifted a lot of items that seemed like the kind of thing one would use for interrogation, and revealing hidden stalkers.  Although it occurs to me that the items might specifically have been chosen expecting to encounter ourselves.  The Lantern would pierce my shadowtricks; and a skeevy knave like Lathan might think the best way to get a handle on three dangerous women is to force them to imbibe elixirs of love.  Or to use the truth-telling items to interrogate one or all of us, after we have been subdued.  Speculation - still.  House Nigma is _far_ too aware of us.  Hey- looks like the lake up ahead.  I've a little cold-iron - not much - but maybe enough, if things go badly."

*Spoiler: OOC Actions and purchases!*
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I made the assumption they stocked potions of Longstrider, and marked off 250 gold for two of them and three potions of cure light ones, one already imbibed.  I went with Purple Worm poison - nice high DC, even if it's not an instant knocker-outer or killer. 
 And it feel exploitative to scoop up all her Black Lotus and then resell it!

Search Roll: (1d20+2)[*18*]

Mostly, he's keeping an ear out.
Listen Roll: (1d20+8)[*25*]

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## Feathersnow

Kate shudders under her armor. Enchantment magic is creepy at best, and "elixirs of love" were the worst. A little of her bluster is gone as she speaks.
 I don't like this.  I'm used to simple things, and relying on my mind being my own.  We are walking into an enchanter who is clearly ready for us.  The scariest part- he was aware we might come into conflict before I was.  Between us, and this is me talking,  I'm a little nervous.

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## JoyWonderLove

After a brief introduction and chat with the fey soul and her flute carrying companion, Spoiler lead into the woods. I get the uneasiness, and frankly, Ive felt watched ever since landing. But the advantage is still practically ours. We knew Nigma knew about us, and theyre banking on four hitting, not five. That we dont know to navigate the fey. Let alone that Oracle and Scion have won us extra oomf. How useful a spy network with inaccurate intel? Were close enough that Verena will be out before midday, and well all be resting the same. Just a few bits more and weve won. 

*Spoiler: actions, + T10 Search (22)*
Show

 
Buy some items from the archmage if they have anything useful. 

Still attempting to win the fey away from a fight with diplomacy. 

Just throw in a Search take 10 for 22 result.

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## JbeJ275

"Look, enchanters are bad if you can't deal with them outright but with the archmage on side we have no reason not to castrate the idiot. Hit him hard and fast when we catch up with him and he has less warning than a diviner and fewer defenses than an abjurer."

With that said, Barbara got back to picking their way through the marshlands, having taken advantage of the offered wand to increases her sharp-mindedness for the upcoming encounter. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
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[roll]1d4+[/rolll]
For a total Search of 26

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC*
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Okie dokes. Based on post order and lacking any other more specific instructions, I'm going to have Damien out front. Unfortunately for him, he's apparently way worse at identifying traps than Spoiler or Oracle are; fortunately for him, this trap is pretty mild.


Damien heard a sound like a twang, and something flew towards him through the trees. The strange, plantlike pod struck him on the crown and doused him in a gooey, gloppy sweet smelling substance. He blanched, stunned and covered in mess, when he heard a chittering sound from the trees. Three animals the size of cats fell on him in a small flurry -- they were raccoons, and they were somewhat un-gently scarfing up whatever the substance was that was covering Damien. None of their snapping, licking snouts actually hurt him, but he was suddenly caught up in a flurry of excited fur and intrusive tongues.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien is covered in honey -- whatever he'd tripped over that caused it to fall on him was clearly rigged to do so on purpose -- somebody had laid the honey trap out deliberately. He currently suffers a -4 penalty to dexterity until the goop is washed off. (Full round action). So far, no one has come to respond to the trap going off, apart from a trio of hungry raccoons. They _haven't_ accidentally hurt him yet, but they could if they're not shooed off or otherwise disposed of.

----------


## MrAbdiel

For a couple of heartbeats, Damien stands paralytically still, face reddening beneath its sugary glaze, mind wildly scrambling for barbs to fling at his comrades if mockery is to ensue.  Then the raccoons make their assault, and he lets out a scream.

Well, not a scream.  More of a squeal; but the bizarre release - the sound of a childs surprised laughter escaping from this small, taciturn killing machine - may be quite unexpected.  He half heartedly defends himself, giggling and laughing in total transformation into a regular kid for a moment; trying to sneak in tentative pats on his floofy assailants.

*Spoiler*
Show

Best trap ever.  Damien is going to attempt to befriend these raccoons.

Handle animal - (1d20)[*14*] plus whatever bonus is relevant for being smothered in honey.

----------


## Molan

The raccoons, delighted with the treat they've been given and pleased by Damien's amicable demeanor, don't immediately react with hostility when he works on taming and calming them down a bit. Eventually, with some coaxing, he's able to slide some of the honey off of his body and feed them direction out of his hand. They don't respond to everything he tries to get them to do, but after a few minutes playing and cajoling, they seem to warm up to the idea of staying in his vicinity, and even pay attention when he speaks to them or holds out his hand.

After a while, he was mostly cleaned off, and had made three new adorable, if somewhat unreliable friends. When he finally turned around to recognize the party members standing behind them, they were all watching with expressions ranging from bemusement to irritation to unreadable, and most of the women had their arms crossed over their chests, waiting for the distraction to end.

Damien shrugged, and whistled to his new friends to follow him, and they headed off, deeper into the wood, towards the water.

Eventually the trees broke, revealing a placid lake. This calm pond provided a break from the trees. Two people were talking beneath a shade tree by the bank. Judging from their silhouettes, they were probably young ladies. One was covered in a rain shawl, obscuring almost the entirety of her form and her face, leaving only two enchanting eyes, staring back at the group. The other was much less modestly dressed, though it was hard to see exactly what, if anything she was wearing, as most of her form was hidden behind the great oak they were sitting under.. She had a wild, unfathomable look in her large, almond-shaped eyes, and her hair had a pronounced, leafy texture. 

The two women had been talking, but they watched the party intently as they approached. When they drew near, two of the raccoons eagerly ran to the woman in the shawl, rubbing up against her and embracing her affectionately. The third raccoon, though, stayed put, rubbing up against Damien's legs. The animals' reactions seemed to thrill the two women, and they each seemed to beam with delight as the party neared.

The two women greeted the party, speaking only in Sylvan, and Spoiler stepped up and replied, meeting them with proper etiquette and decorum, and replying in a nearly flawless Sylvan of her own. Whatever she said, it seemed to go over spectacularly, and rather than find themselves attacked by agitated Fey, the two women's demeanor became much more constructive.

*"How can we be of assistance, travelers?"* the shawled woman asked as she stroked one of the raccoon's head. Her voice sounded like music, and it sent shivers down each party member's spine.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Well, Spoiler probably couldn't be built any _better_ for this bit of the encounter. The ladies at the lake are extremely pleased that Damien warmed up to their floofy friends, and Spoiler's super high diplo check brought them from friendly to helpful. Ask them whatever you want about the lake, the temple, or the surrounding area. Remember that they are helpful, but they're also fairly chaotic and unpredictable so it may not be possible to get _100%_ straight answers out of them, but this is easily best case scenario.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate nods politely, having no idea what is going on but trying not to be rude

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Ladies, Spoiler said in common, a little surprised that these incarnations of nature spoke mortal languages fluently. Longevity clearly had its perks. Were looking to visit the Moonbow temple. But weve heard the fey in the marsh are picky about who they allow into their area. What would you suggest to contend with them? More, Im curious if people bearing this symbol came by recently? She pinched together the envelope to clearly display the green question mark of the broken seal. 

*Spoiler: ooc*
Show


The others can walk ahead if they want; Im curious if we can turn the Friendly into action, but itd be easier if I knew the lake feys opinion on the marsh fey and Nigma. 

No point asking certain things if theyre like why, nigma's almost as great as raccoons!

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## MrAbdiel

"What are their names?"

The sticky child, caked with the remnants of honey and shredded forest floor leaves.  He gestures to the racoon that seems to have most taken to him to clarify the 'their' in his request; and after receiving an answer, nods, and takes a minute to kneel by the lake and splash as much of the remnant honey from his face.

"...And who set up that honey-catapult..?"

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## JbeJ275

Barbara was also initially hesitant to speak. She knew plenty of tales about what happened when people tried to use they fey as a shortcut to magic, and how much sweet poison filled some of their gifts. She was determined not to let this conversation continue too long and to press on before they got bogged down but hesitantly did ask a few questions.

"Were there any others there who wore the robes of an arccanist? Or a man in dark black studded leather armor, who was carrying a magically enchanted crossbow and carried a number of dangerous looking knives? The second may have mentioned changelings, who many are known to think come from among the fey."

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## Molan

The two women were in a mirthful, happy mood, and they chatted with the party quite eagerly. 

*Were looking to visit the Moonbow temple. But weve heard the fey in the marsh are picky about who they allow into their area. What would you suggest to contend with them? More, Im curious if people bearing this symbol came by recently?*

The one behind the tree glomed onto Spoiler's question about the Nigma's almost right away.

*"Oh, yessss. The Green ones passssed by here. They never pay any homage to the foresssst. Elvesss who have losssst their way. We don't want them around here...but they alwayssss come protected by potent arcana. I sssstay away from them."*

The woman in the rain shawl perked up to Spoiler's question about the fey in the marsh.

*"Oh...I don't know about any fey necessarily. But there are two women from the marsh who we hate."*

*"Yesss...."* said the one behind the tree. *"We hate...."*

*"They're so mean to us! They're incredibly rude, and spiteful! Sometimes they come close to the lake, but we always just hide until they leave."*

The two didn't offer up more description than that, as the conversation turned to Scion and Oracle's questions, but their demeaner remained open and affable. Stephanie got the sense she could probe them for further information, if she pressed.

*"What are their names?...And who set up that honey-catapult..?"* Damien asked in between splashing his face in the lake water.

The girls giggled. 

*"That wassss me, sssssilly!"* cooed the girl behind the tree. *"We like to keep sssssome honeypotssss around, so that no one can sssssneak up on ussss!"*

The woman in the shawl nodded eagerly. Damien couldn't help but feel drawn in by her deep, mesmerizing eyes, the only part of her body that he could see. They shined like iridescent diamonds, haunting him.

*"We keep it that way in case the green elves come. Or if the marsh ladies try and bother us. No one looks out for our safety -- except our friends here!"*

She stroked one of the raccoons that had curled up on her lap.

*"This one is Anh, and this one over here is Byi, and that one...."* she gestured towards Damien's closest companion. "*Is Ohn. Cute, aren't they? They bring us treasures.*"

*"Yesssss! Treasssssuresssss!"*

They both laughed.

*"Were there any others there who wore the robes of an arcanist? Or a man in dark black studded leather armor, who was carrying a magically enchanted crossbow and carried a number of dangerous looking knives? The second may have mentioned changelings, who many are known to think come from among the fey."*

The two women shared a look, and frowned.

*"You mean the lassssst elf."* the one behind the tree said.

*"He wasn't wearing robes."*

*"He wasssss wearing a tunic, and he carried a ssssssspeellbook."*

*"Oh...yes, that's true. Quite a big spellbook."*

*"He paid usssss no homage either,"* tree continued to complain. *"Came through our wood holding an arcane lantern. Warded with ssssspellsssss. He wasssss very rude."*

The girl in the shawl nodded.

*"Yes he was. Quite rude. We don't like him at all. But..."*

*"We didn't sssssee anyone with a crosssssssbow." Ssssssorry."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Here you can also make Spot and Sense Motive checks. If I failed to answer any questions just let me know OOC.

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## MrAbdiel

"Damn.  Sounds like our delay put the knave Lathan ahead of us.  No matter - puts all our enemies in one place.  And he has no reason to suspect that we're on his trail, other than it feeling suspicious that he lost his letter.  Let's run them down."  He finishes his rudimentary wash-off (he'll need a bath for sure, but atleast his movement isn't impaired anymore.  Just his pride, just a little.

He tries not to look at them, directly.  It's obvious to anyone that this is not just his greater interest in the raccoons - the direct, supernal loveliness that presses outward from such creatures is a vector of challenge for which he has no precedent of combat.  He settles for avoiding eye contact.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Damien's ready to go, and antsy to get crackin' - but for good measure:

Spot: (1d20+3)[*9*]
Sense Motive: (1d20+8)[*25*]

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## JoyWonderLove

Spoiler glanced at her masquerade wearing friend when the fey made their claims, but otherwise gave no tells. That sounds so awful, those two rude ones! The mean girls probably would hate us as well, but we have to visit the temple. Why are they so spiteful to you, anyway? We really dont want to fight, if we dont have to. Is there some safe and unseen way to the temple the ladies and lost elves dont know of? She paused a moment before adding. Its very odd, though. If the Green ones arent here to honour you both, why travel all the way here? They arent in Moonbows flock.

*Spoiler: Spot the Motive*
Show


Take 10 for anything I need to Bluff. 
Spot: (1d20+8)[*15*] 
Sense Motive: (1d20+8)[*21*]

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Spot: No result.
Sense Motive: The two women are being cute about who or what they actually are but they aren't deliberately misleading you about anything significant; their motives seem genuine.


The girl behind the tree answered Spoiler's question. 

*"There issss one door, under the water,"* she said. "*It'sss on the north ssssside of the Temple of the Moonbow. But it'ssss dangerous. Very dark, very murky. You would have to ssssswim under the marssshhh and into the temple'ssss culvert."*

*"The mean ladies can be tricky,"* said the woman in the shawl. *"One of them is all old and green...the other looks half human, and half lion. But when you meet them you may not see them that way. They like to lead people astray."*

*"They don't like ussss becausssssse they want the gladesssss to themssssselvesssss. Their heartssss are twissssted by anger. The Moonbow bringsssss peace to the Sssssylvan, but after it'ssss desssssecration, many of our former ssssissterss have become...hossstile."*

Shawl nodded emphatically.

*"They'll try to trap you. It's their favorite. The Green Elves hearts are colored by greed. They've lost their way, abandoned the Seldarin. They only live for magic and gold now. They use their magic to avoid the mean ladies."*

*"Thisss issss true,"* Tree added. *"But, maybe we can help you. There issss a treasssure here, near our lake."*

Shawl laughed, and they both startled giggling.

*"Yes, that's true! A treasure! Maybe that will help you? Either way, you must take care to look for untruths in the marsh. It's a place of deceits now, that the man ladies are there."*

*"Travel along the lake'ssss sssssshore, until you find peace."* Tree said. Each of the women started giggling, clearly thrilled with their own "cleverness".

*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

Spot: There is a strange looking sack made from some sort of vegatative matter hanging from the oak tree the girl is partially hidden behind. It looks to be made in the same design and form as the sack filled with honey that had hit Damien.
Sense Motive: The two women are being cute about who or what they actually are but they aren't deliberately misleading you about anything significant; their motives seem genuine.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, your move! Hopefully this is a bit more informative vis a vis what's waiting in the marsh.

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## JoyWonderLove

*Spoiler: ooc*
Show

 sorry this is lackluster, but if I don't post this little bit, I'll wait until tomorrow, and I think my reply is holding things up?

Take 10 search (22) as I navigate the lake shore to go towards the temple/marsh.


Thanking the fey for their advice, Spoiler chances a request for one of their honey bombs, joking Scion will want one to lure his little friends back to him sometime. Afterwards, she spends some time searching the lake shore as she wove a path towards the Moonbow temple all the same.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien bids Ohn, Byi and Ahn - and, he supposes, the fey ladies too - farewell, before breaking off from them to speak quietly to the rest of their search and rescue party.

"The entrance under the water _sounds_ neat.  But I think that's a good way to drown Batwoman in her armor, and maybe the rest of us.  Unless someone is a good enough swimmer to go through solo and take a guide line, I don't think we're getting in that way."

He is careful, and circumspect, not to suggest it is _his_ inability to swim that could be the problem, or that he could solve the problem.

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## JbeJ275

Oracle frowned. Neither deceit nor untruths were exactly on her list of favorite things and she was dealing with enough of those before she got to work. 

"I'm no great swimmer, but lets at least have a look there before we write such an entrance off."

With that she murmured quiet goodbyes to the fey and took off, reluctantly going at the head of her formation to take advantage of her Blindsense, ability at the tracking down clues and magical sensitivity.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


26 on the Search, + the other senses available to me.

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## Molan

The two women gave Spoiler one of the honey traps they'd rigged, and bid the party farewell. Spoiler noticed that the trap handed her _wasn't_ the one hanging from the large oak -- that had to be something else entirely. But she ignored it, deciding to focus on the mission in front of them.

With Oracle leading the way the party made their way around the north end of the lake. When they reached the far side, she noticed something strange. A large tree sat at the very western tip of the lake.

*"There's a marking in that tree. Looks like a sigil in Sylvan."*

*Spoiler: For People who Speak / Read Sylvan*
Show

The symbol on the tree reads "peace."


In the distance, Oracle though she heard a noise -- it might have sounded something like a woman's scream, but she couldn't be sure. it was to the northwest of where they were, in the direction of the temple.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Hope I didn't keep you all waiting _too_ long. You're almost into the marsh I promise.

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## JoyWonderLove

Well, there's yonder peace tree. Glad this wasn't some kind of metaphor. Parkour kid, you're up.

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## MrAbdiel

He raised an eyebrow at the appellation, but he _was_ the most capable among them.  Who could deny it?

He makes a standing jump the height of his body up the trunk of the tree then continues up it with the lithe hand-over-hand grace possessed only by children and monkeys.  But from his perch, his eyes drift to the sound of the scream, and a wary, older man's frown creases his young face.  "Let's be quick."

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Take 10 for 22 Climb, using the Rod of Ropes if required.  Looking for treasure!  If he finds a hollow or receptacle, he'll search it for traps.  (1d20+2)[*15*]

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## Molan

The tree wasn't trapped. Instead, Damien found another sack made of vegetative matter, this time filled with four bloodstones worth 50 gp each, an unidentified magical feather, two unidentified divine scrolls, and a potion which, mercifully was marked with sylvan characters -- if nothing else, Spoiler ought to be able to read what it did.

Damien leapt out of the tree with his prize and the party ran towards the sound of the noise. As they went, they began to find themselves becoming disoriented, and even Oracle was having trouble keeping her bearings. It wasn't obvious if they were running forward, towards the marsh, or backwards, the way they'd come. The wood was menacing and oppressive, twisting their senses.

The party heard soft feminine screams behind them, along with the sound of metal chopping wood. A soft but frantic voice called out, *Heroes, help us, please! It is I, Amarantha! Alphesiboeas tree is being attacked! Please come!
*

Kate was about ready to insist they turn around, almost sure they'd gone the wrong way. But the trees cleared somewhat, revealing shallow wetlands ahead. 

Up ahead, a massive hill giant stood, wailing his axe against an oak that looked eerily like the one the women were sitting under back at the lake. It was a dead ringer for the original tree, but it was impossible to tell if it was just the wrong oak or if the forest was playing tricks on them, or if the oak itself could actually move. The giant wailed away at the tree with his axe, and the woman from before continued to scream, though both of them were hidden in the woods; only the giant and the tree were visible.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okie dokes. Make Will Saves and Spot Checks all, and roll for initiative. FYI, I'm gonna be on a trip the next few days, so it's going to be hard for me to post, but I'll check in when I'm able to and I'll let you know as soon as I'm back. Person with the highest initiative roll can go first.

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Barbara Only*
Show

 Oracle could see a figure that looked like the woman with the rain shawl hiding in the woods not far from the tree, but she was crouched behind a tree as if in fear. If she strained, she could maneuver to make out the woman's full form, but couldn't quite see her fully from where she was standing. There was something...off, about her though, something Barbara needed a slightly better look to see.

However, whatever was going on with her was irrelevant, compared to what her powers identified was happening right in front of her: the "hill giant" chopping the "oak tree" wasn't real; it was an illusion. There was no giant, and the tree was a withered old dead sycamore.

What the illusion obscured was a strange looking animated vine, hanging from the tree, it's tendrils ending in what looked like grasping, humanoid hands.


The party strained to see the woman who'd called out for help. Scion saw nothing, but Spoiler and Oracle could see her hiding behind a tree. They'd need to adjust a bit to make her out fully, though. As they strained to spot her, she cried out;

"*No! Don't look at me, or you'll be blinded!*"

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Neither your spot not will saves yield any new or interesting information.


*Spoiler: Spoiler*
Show

You can see the woman behind the tree but something seems off about her. If you strain a bit or adjust your footing you could make out her entire form but she's cautioned you not to. You don't notice anything else out of the ordinary.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Highest init goes first so for the time being that's Damien until Feather posts.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara raised an eyebrow at the fey's words.

"That giant is an illusion, the only danger there is falling branches from a dead old tree and some vine hanging from it. Don't get to close to it and get some crossbows out. I'll show you where to aim on the vine."

With that Barabara closed her eyes and slowly made her way towards the fey creature, trusting on her Blindsense to guide her true.

"So do you want to explain the Illusion stuff right now? We can have a lovely conversation about this instead of any more trouble."

----------


## MrAbdiel

Ugh!  We dont have time for this! Damien blurts in exasperation, drawing his Rod of Ropes and striking the second button to active its grappling hook.  Its possible some attempted high flying hijinx were in mind, before Barbaras words alert him to the falsity of the situation.  Unable to penetrate the illusion himself, he watches Oracle, and follows her lead.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Move to draw the rod, move to activate the second function, 5ft step cautiously toward Oracle.

----------


## Molan

The illusion of the giant chopping the tree persisted, but the women who were behind it appeared furious that their ruse had been seen through. The woman with the rain shawl Barbara was approaching took advantage of the woman's temporarily shut eyes to charge out from her hiding place.

It was clear as she emerged, to everyone except Kate, that she was not the rain-shawl clad woman from before; she too was shrouded in an illusion. The "shawl" came free as she ran and she seemed to move her arm, and a brilliant flash of light bounded outwards as she closed on Oracle. The burst of brilliance couldn't affect Barbara, as her eyes were closed, but washed over the rest of the party instead.

She reached Oracle and lashed out with her free hand; in the place of the illusion's fair skin and delicate fingers, long green claws emerged to rake across Oracle's abdomen, releasing a snarl of dark fey energy as they did so.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay.

Everyone *except* Oracle make a reflex save.

Oracle, you have to make a Fortitude Save.

It's Damien's turn, then Stephanie, then Barbara, then the second "lady of the lake", then Kate.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Oracle!

Damien finishes shielding his eyes from the fey flash just in time to see the swamp-crone thrash at the Diviner, shearing away some gleaming remnant of her vital energies.  Such a strike would render his smaller frame completely useless if it were to hit, and he had no desire to expose himself to the possibility - but the alternative was abandoning his severely weakened companion to further blows, and in a split moment of decision he errs for the risk instead of caution.

Leveling the Rod of Ropes at the the attacker, he hits the second button and releases ten foot of rope and a magically propelled hooks blunt top at the target, before drawing one of the blue-sparking short swords he looted earlier and rushing in to melee.

*Spoiler*
Show

(1d20+10)[*27*] to hit with the Rod of Ropes.  If it hits, its considered a bull rush attempt with an opposed strength roll from the green meanie versus my (1d20+5)[*11*] or be pushed back 5ft from Oracle.  Theres also (1d6)[*3*] damage just for hitting.

Thats a move action to do.  Second move action to move into melee with the enemy; either between her and Oracle if the above bull rush worked or swooping around to her left side to start working towards a flank, otherwise.

----------


## Molan

Damien fired his magical grappling hook into the malevolent fey, eliciting a snarl of anger but failing to knock her backwards as he'd hoped. He swung around to his left, the fey attacker's right, to get a more advantageous angle on her.

----------


## JbeJ275

As Barbara slumped backwards, weakened by the blow and dropping her crossbow and rapiers she dragged herself a few paces backwards as  the vague outline of the creature raged into combat. With one shaking weakened hand she dragged the newly identified wand from her side and dropped a fireball directly on that creatures head.

----------


## Molan

The fireball from Oracle's wand lit up the forest in a bright flash of orange light. The angry fey woman shrieked in anger; she was quick, and managed to avoid the worst of the blast, but the wand was high powered, and the monster was still badly burned.

From across the marsh, the second "woman" appeared, her skin looking like the bark of a tree and her hair a long green, leafy mane. She rushed towards the party rapidly but was more than fifty feet away, and had to maneuver wide around the "giant" in the center of the clearing. It was plain something was off about her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Will save to pierce the second assailant's illusion. Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

The Armored woman activates her defensive powers, and stands ready to defend her friends from the giants.

----------


## Molan

As he observed, Damien saw the illusion shrouding the second woman slip away; the creature seemed to be a cross between a stunningly attractive human woman and a sleek lion. It looked human from the waist up, with the body of a lion below that. Whatever or whoever she was, she was angry, bounding toward the party in great leaps.

As she charged, Robyn rushed to Oracle's aid, stabbing the first woman. She shrieked in agony, now burned and bleeding, and began to withdraw, running in the opposite direction. She didn't look mortally wounded, but she was hurt enough that she seemed to have lost her appetite for standing pat and fighting fair.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Damien's turn. Disguise effect still shrouds lionwoman from everyone else except Damien unless Jbe rolls against her.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Hyah!"  As Robyn and Kate join the melee and the tide turns, Damien animates with delight and the emergence of his now well featured glee for overwhelming an enemy.  He springs into pursuit and slices viciously at the woman's back as she goes, before breaking off towards the second attacker to meet her mid-field.  Arms held stiffly to either side as his legs drive him onward, he revolves the looted blade in with the flourish of one wrist, and barks out in snide challenge:

"You avoid the green elves, but you try your tricks on US? You're DEAD, lady!  You and your friend are DEAD!"

A familiar pinch of flash powder, and he vanishes mid charge; with the only proof he is still in the world being the raking profile of the swordsword carving at the lion-woman's flank.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Attack of Opportunity on Hag Lady: (1d20+10)[*20*], -2 because it's sized for a medium creature,+2 if flanking with Kate or Robyn.  For up to (1d6-2)[*4*] minimum 1, and damage and, if it's Shock like I think, (1d6)[*1*].

Then the turn begins!  I'm assuming Lion-Lady is close enough to charge.  Then charge!  Swift action to turn invisible, then the charge attack at, wisely this time, full Expertise, versus FlatFooted 'cuz I'm ninjing. (1d20+5)[*15*], -2 for the weapon's size, +2 for charging.  (Edit: OH!  And +2 because invisible!)  For up to... [ROLL]1d6-2[ROLL] Minimum 1, maybe (1d6)[*5*] electric, and (3d6)[*8*] sudden strike.

Booyah!

----------


## Molan

Damien lashed out with the crackling, unidentified short sword as the fey woman attempted to escape, releasing a jolt of magical electricity and wounding her further. He tried to follow up a second time but his sword seemed to scrape off of her skin -- it was much tougher than he'd initially realized.

The woman turned towards him and glared, a malevolent hatred beaming from her green eyes.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler, then Oracle, then the charging second woman, then Robyn then Kate.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Don't make us keep at this. You're not going to like where it ends up!"

As Oracle's saying this she slowly makes her way to her feet and moves behind the rest of the group, still panting with the effort of moving her body with such diminished strength. But when the charging woman first makes to close with one of her group she conjures a stinging glob of acid and hurls it at the monstrous face.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


(1d20+6)[*12*] VS Touch AC
for (1d3)[*3*]+(2d6)[*7*] damage.

----------


## Molan

The acid blob hurled past the charging woman and she flew towards Kate, lashing out with a long pair of claws. The claws failed to penetrate her armor however, yielding only sparks.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate takes a step back and swings with her poleaxe!
*Spoiler:  crunch*
Show


(1d20+11)[*17*] to hit
(2d6+4)[*15*] damage if successful

----------


## Molan

Kate's halberd slashed down on the new attacker and landed true, ripping a great rent into her flank. Her physical form seemed to shimmer as she shrieked in pain; she was clearly still masked by some kind of illusion. 

Robyn responded in kind, hurtling in to fight at Kate's side, stabbing hard into the second woman. She howled again, clutching her wounds in apparent agony.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damn Robyn's doing work. Good first outting. Okay, Damien's up.

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Attack of Opportunity on Lady2!*
Show

(1d20+5)[*13*] vs Flatfooted AC of the enemy.  -2 AC for them because they're charging!  If it hits, (1d6-2)[*-1*] minimum 1, plus (1d6)[*6*] shock and (3d6)[*9*] Sudden Strike.


Damien makes a spiteful lash at the passing monstrosity, before turning back to charge her exposed flank!  As he does, he fades back into view; but he does cause the team to surround the enemy.

*Spoiler: Charge on Lady2!*
Show

(1d20+7)[*14*] vs Flatfooted AC of the enemy.  -2 AC for them because they're charging too!  If it hits, (1d6-2)[*3*] minimum 1, plus (1d6)[*6*] shock.  AC is 24 for the next round, and Damien is visible.

----------


## Molan

Damien lashes out at the fey monster, but his attacks found no purchase. Despite the illusion she was draped in, her hide was much too thick; even flanking her, he was out of his weight class.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

sorry guys long day. JBE's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Leave Damn you! We have no time for your games! Shouts Oracle, this her hands returning to the wand of fireballs and calling another eruption of fire on the one that was still fighting them.

----------


## Molan

The second woman howled in rage; Barbara's fireball lit up the dark forest in a nimbus of flame, washing over half of her body. The vicious fey had clearly been unprepared, and the wand Oracle was carrying was extremely high powered. She shrieked and ran off the direction she'd come, trailing smoke and embers.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Dayum that was one way to end a fight, lol. Incidentally JBE are you keeping track of your remaining charges or am I? Just checking. In any case that sapped the fight out of them, they're on the run. Question becomes whether you guys want to pursue or not.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien spitefully slashes at the retreating enemy...

*Spoiler: Attack of Spiteful-tunity!*
Show

(1d20+8)[*14*] for (1d6-1)[*1*] minimum 1 and (1d6)[*2*] zappy zap damage.


...But after a few autonomic steps, does not pursue.  These interfering fey, after all, aren't the target - and are clearly very dangerous.  He retracts the Rod of Ropes, glances over his immediate companions.  Watching Oracle barely able to hold up her wand, he takes a step closer as if preparing, awkwardly, to lend a steadying shoulder (which is mounted to a body a foot and a half shorter than Oracle herself).

"What happened?  Poison?"  He guesses, a stab in the dark informed by his own history of stabbing in the dark; but his eyes track Robyn presumably rushing back to Spoiler's side.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara initially seems to instinctually go for her crossbow to pin down the retreating attackers, but fails to even lift the stock of the contraption quickly enough to fire it. She drops it back to the floor, and staggers over to the others, readily taking Scion's offered shoulder. 

"I... I don't think so. It felt like something else, like all the warmth and life leaving my body with just half dead arms left behind. If those things are scared enough of Nigma's men to set up here... I'm not sure how much of a chance we stand against them right now..."

----------


## Feathersnow

"That is... deeply unsettling.   It occurs to me I have a powerstone that might get us through the underwater way, but, now, I'm not too sure."

----------


## MrAbdiel

"We didn't come all this way just to turn back and leave Verena now.  And if that powerstone lets you swim in your armor, then that might work just fine.  If you can go through and take a guide-line, the rest of us can follow it without much trouble - presuming there's no additional harm involved.  Spoiler!"

The kid begins maneuvering the group back together, putting away his Rod, taking up Oracle's dropped crossbow, and beginning to move the party over toward the blinded blonde.  "What happened?  You didn't fire a shot."

----------


## Molan

As Damien moved over to help Spoiler, Barbara, otherwise struggling to even move, happened to notice something. A few yards out of reach of the grasping vines the hill giant illusion had once covered, she noticed a sylvan marking on a nearby tree. It looked identical to the one Spoiler had translated for them earlier.

*"Hey...that tree's marked 'Peace', she commented offhandedly.*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Still free actions here. Someone will have to climb the tree if they want to look for goodies. Don't worry, the Nigmas drove the fey off with magic items, not with OP level power.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien offers his handy haversack to carry everything Oracle is over-burdened by; his little backpack has quite a bit more containment.  But when the tree is pointed out, he's onto it; scampering up its length with the assistance of his ever present Rod of Ropes, and looking for a similar reward chest to the one they encountered before!

*Spoiler: Monkey Business*
Show

If the Rod of Ropes wasn't enough, I can take-10 climb for a 22 if that's enough!

----------


## Molan

Damien climbed into the tree that Barbara had pointed out. Up high he found another sack like the first ones they'd seen, made of some sort of vegetative matter. When he opened it up, he found a wand, a box containing 100 platinum pieces, an obsidian statue, and a pair of unidentified potions.

The party made their way past the grasping vine, and as they progressed further into the wood, the forest gave way to what could be charitably described as a swamp. Soon, the trees around them were dead and drowned and water rose up to almost their knees. Kate and Spoiler had to help pull Barbara along, still weak as she was. Spoiler's eyes eventually cleared -- the blinding effect the fey attacker had used on her eventually wearing off.

Not long after they'd entered the marshlands, the trees began to clear somewhat, and they (finally!) found the Temple of the Moonbow, looming high in the dark, early morning sky in all of it's shabby glory.

The temple was half sunk into the marsh; the front doors were cracked open somewhat but were clearly immersed in mucky water. Vines and moss creeped up along it's sides on every angle, and despite the excellent craftsmanship of the elven architecture, pieces of it were beginning to droop and lean to the sides, some bits even falling and collapsing into the marsh. The temple looked like a corpse, slowly decomposing over many decades in the abandoned, haunted wood.

Two things stood out about the temple as they took in the sights. The first was that the Temple had been defaced. Huge, slightly glowing neon green "?" sigils were slapped along multiple surfaces of the temple, with one particularly large and garish sigil marking the front surface at the top of the temple over the main doors, defacing the Moonbow icon there. The paint looked reminiscent of the garish, luminescent paints that had bedazzled some of the buildings back at the thorpe, but where those buildings had looked like works of art and expressions of joy and emotion, the Nigma sigils looked almost purposefully sloppy, angry and offensive. The single toned green neon paint seemed to menace, looking out over the surrounding marshlands like a challenge for someone to dare to enter.

The second was that the front door was guarded. Three elves, bedecked in armor covered in forestwarden shrounds and carrying elven thinblades guarded the entrance. They didn't show a lot of outward iconography, but the consistent green motifs on their armor and clothing identified them with House Nigma.

*"Duskblades."* Spoiler whispered.

*"Are you sure, how do you know?"* said Damien.

*"One hundred percent. Sylvan nobles love to keep them as bodyguards. Just their stuck-up highborne posture'd be enough to give it away, but they also tend to carry those fancy elf weapons. They're very traditional."*

*"Not that traditional, apparently."* Barbara growled, still sounding slightly out of breath. *"They're helping Nigma desecrate an old temple to help keep a hostage. Still though, I think Spoiler's right -- they have Duskblades who train and work at the college. I'd bet she's right."*

*"So what does that mean for us?"*

*"It means they're dangerous. If we're going to go into the front, we'll have to get the jump on them, and I'll probably be using this wand again,"* she feebly held up the high powered _wand of fireballs_ she'd used to beat off the unseelie fey. *"Even then, it could be ugly. No telling how proficient they are, but they can stand up in a fight and they're adept with magic. Their equipment looks expensive too."*

*"Or, we risk swimming through the culvert."* said Kate bluntly, finishing Oracle's thought.

*"So..."* Spoiler breathed, sounding nervous. *"How lucky is everyone feeling?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

One or two tugs, well assume its an accident.  Scion, in his unilaterally appointed leadership role, explains to the commando-knight as he spools put the length from the rods, and Spoiler uses her skilled digits to make loops to hook on Batwomans belt.

"Three in succession and well  know the far end is secured and well reel in.  First Spoiler and Robyn; second Oracle and I.  But if you encounter trouble and you need extraction, any amount of erratic tugging past three and well secure our ends and haul you out."
He gives a final glance back the way they came, and briefly at the debilitated Oracle; but seems resolved they should continue.  Anything weve forgotten?

----------


## Molan

Using the trees, poor light conditions and waist-deep marsh water to avoid observation by the duskblades guarding the entrance, Kate carefully made her way around the edges of the marsh towards where the culvert was located. With her armor secured in Damien's haversack, she was a bit more nimble; her fighting style relied on classic heavy infantry tactics, deploying a long heavy polearm and heavy platemail, but her experience as an imperial ranger served her quite well navigating quietly through the marsh. This was exactly the sort of trouble she and her old comrades used to get into. For a moment, she found herself feeling almost nostalgic.

She pushed her head under the vile water and began to swim into the temple through the culvert. This was the moment of truth; if their information had been wrong, if the culvert was too deep and long, she'd be in trouble. But the water was still and she was strong, and she worked her way through the short drainage tunnel swiftly before finding air above the waterline again. She emerged -- covered in muck but otherwise unharmed -- on the other side, looking at a loose, rusted looking grate at the end of the passageway that led into the temple itself. She emerged as far as she could out of the water without hitting her head on the slime covered top of the tunnel, and gripped the rusted metal grate with both hands, firmly but quietly pressing her strength against it. The stones and mortar sealing the damaged metal in place were loose, and she was eventually able to remove the entire grate without too much fuss. She secured the rope to a nearby stone support pillar just inside the next room, and gave it three firm tugs.

The rest of the party followed Kate's lead through the marsh, and when they felt the tugs, Robyn gave Spoiler's arm a knowing, resigned squeeze before the two of them disappeared below the brackish water. After about a minute had gone by, Scion and Oracle followed suit.

The party slowly emerged through the tunnel Kate had cleared, two at a time. As they worked their way out of the culvert, Kate had already worked ahead, quietly pressing the entrance door to the temple shut from the inside -- the outer door, which was also ajar, was separated from the inner one by an entry hall, allowing her to seal them off from the Nigma thugs without alerting them. With the door closed, Kate secured some loose debris nearby and worked to barricade the door as much as possible.

Once Damien was through the culvert, he removed Kate's armor from the haversack, and she put it back on, prepared for whatever lied ahead. 

The room was incredibly dark -- Oracle had a better time determining it's contours than most, but most of the party was shrouded in almost complete darkness.

*"Let's see if we can shine some light on this situation..."* Robyn said idly to herself, removing an _everburning torch_ from her pack and using it to light one of the nearby sconces.

*"No! Wait!"* Barbara tried to stop her, but it was too late. The orange flame from the _everburning torch_ touched the metal sconce on the wall, which erupted in _green_ flame of it's own. Seven identical torch sconces lit up with green fire all around the central room, illuminating it, but likely alerting whoever'd enchanted them to the party's presence in the process.

The room was long and wide -- a central worshipping / reception chamber for the temple. It was lined with a series of support pillars from which the green burning sconces hung, and most of the area was filled with random detritus and little else. However, hanging high from the ceiling in the center of the room, wrapped in a series of chains, was a massive glass or crystal ball, perhaps as much as seven feet in diameter or larger, filled with a strange, swirling green mist. The party walked from the culvert to the center of the hall. As they watched, the swirling mists in the ball parted, and a face appeared.

The face belonged to an elf -- he might have been a wood elf, it was hard to tell through the magical device. His hair was long and red and he was draped in green finery, and he carried a long golden cane, topped with a golden "?" sigil of House Nigma.

*"Well well well!"* the figure in the crystal ball mocked, his face cut from one end to the other in a wide, mocking grin. *"What do we have here? I have to admit, when I heard that there were adventurers snooping around my affairs, I was a bit worried it would be that perpetually vexing Dark Knight or one of his miserable little cronies. But what a delight this is! Seems his meddlesome monopoly on Gotham's vigilante scene might be finally over! This will be much, much more fun for me."*

*"Lord Nigma."* Kate said, her voice low. *"Let that girl go, and we can finish this quietly."*

*"I'm sorry, who are you?"* Nigma shot back, waiving a hand dismissively. *"No offense little knight but I don't have time to trade insults with nobodies."*

*"Come on, Nigma."* Oracle pressed. *"Fox already knows you're blackmailing his ship captain. This can't possibly be of further benefit to you. Just let the girl go, we can put this behind us."*

*"Ah, so you are the mercenaries fox hired to save his sorry hide!"* Came Nigma's retort. *"I wasn't sure exactly who I should be looking to pay back for that irritating inconvenience. How serendipitous! If you bumbling idiots manage to survive the puzzles I've laid out for you in this temple, I'll have to take the time to repay the favor down the road. Understand one thing, little adventurers. No one...no one in this city stands up to the Banker Houses, understand? And anyone who crosses House Nigma will learn very quickly just how quickly this city can turn on those who violate the natural order of our business."*

*"There's nothing natural about what you're doing!"* Robyn countered, anger flaring in her face for the first time.

*"Oh, but there is,"* Nigma said, his image flickering and disappearing only to reappear periodically as he talked; the divination magic transmitting his image seemed sloppy, or like the connection was weak. *"You'll find I'm more natural than the rain. But I wouldn't count on you pathetic inbred peasants to understand any of that. So let me make this simple for you, as I'm already getting bored with this inane conversation. Thanks to you, and your misbehavior, my use for this girl as a hostage has come to an end. I'm more than happy to let her die here in this temple, but I assume you feel differently. So here's my proposition: you solve the puzzles and challenges of my devilish dungeon, and you might just be in time to save her. Or, don't! And let her die. That's up to you. In the meantime, my merry minions and I will be preparing a thank you gift for you back in the city. So you've got some excitement to look forward to, either way."*

Spoiler moved to speak, perhaps to try to talk to him and persuade the high lord to change tac, but it was too late. 

*"Tick tock, adventurers."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay! You're in the dungeon! Feel free to take actions out of initiative order. You can search this room, and look for passages to the next one.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Just so you know." Oracle starts saying just as the room goes silent. "Describing something directly such that it very slightly rhymes is not in fact a riddle. There must be a better way to describe mercenaries surely."

The juvenile attempt to annoy their adversary into staying a few seconds more done, Oracle began stepping forward. Quickly setting about searching the room, especially the statue near the middle of the room and the barricade to her forward and right. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Gonna take a 10 for 26 on this preliminary searh roll is that works.

----------


## Molan

Oracle scoured the room, searching it up and down, and shifting her way through the debris. Everything in this chamber was wet, though it seemed slightly elevated compared to the foyer Kate had barred, there was a damp muskiness everywhere she walked, and green slimy algae covered much of the surfaces. 

Still, her search wasn't without merit. The enchanted torches, for one thing, were linked together not with any well crafted, permanently implanted ongoing spell by but a simple magical device, suggesting craftiness but an overall lower level of sheer arcane might for whoever had made it. The torches were activated by a simple crystalline switch embedded in the stone behind one of the torches, and had been added after the temple had been built -- much more recently, by all accounts.

That led her to a second "device"; a series of arcane sigils carved into one of the stones of the temple, imbedded with magic power. Their ley lines led up to the ceiling, where she discovered several smaller, less noticeable glass orbs tucked away in the cobwebs above them.

*"Look at that,"* she said, pointing the small, smokey-looking globes out. *"That's how Lord Nigma was able to see into this room. The large ball up there is one-way; it allows him to project himself. Those orbs allowed him to see. We should keep an eye out for any more of them, either in this temple, or in the future, if we are expecting more run-ins with the bastard."*

*"What...are they?"* Spoiler asked, squinting at the ceiling.

*"Based on a preliminary observation? Scrying sensors. Built into those orbs as permanent magical items. He'll have a matching orb in his manor somewhere that allows him to see through them."*

*"M'kay...so are we assuming Lord Nigma is a powerful mage, then?"* asked Damien.

*"Not necessarily,"* Oracle replied. *"I'd never heard the Nigmas mentioned in high esteem at the College. He could be a powerful wizard, or have one in his employ. But this could just as easily be the work of an artificer or bard, or some other sort of hedge arcanist. I would have expected more magical traps or permanent spells in here if our opponent were truly proficient, though we probably shouldn't rule those out."*

She continued her scan, and found two other objects of worth; a locked metal door at one end of the hall, and a mechanism built into the partially destroyed Moonbow statue nearby. She pressed the mechanism, noting that it wasn't trapped, and a stone opened up revealing a hidden compartment. Inside she found what had to be a dozen spell scrolls, all of them arcane in nature, and a pair of wands, one made with Illusion magic, the other with Abjuration.

The locked metal door had several obnoxious "?" Nigma sigils on it, painted in iridescent green. But despite the distractions, Oracle was able to determine that in addition to being locked, it was also warded.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Gave you 10's for K. Arcana and Trapfinding to speed things along.

----------


## Feathersnow

Ah.  We are dealing with a lunatic who messes with innocent minds and has willfully desecrated his own gods.  He, however, doesn't actually care enough to keep his supplies out of our control.  He is either supremely confident or completely insane.  Possibly both.

----------


## MrAbdiel

> Ah.  We are dealing with a lunatic who messes with innocent minds and has willfully desecrated his own gods.  He, however, doesn't actually care enough to keep his supplies out of our control.  He is either supremely confident or completely insane.  Possibly both.


"One or both, particularly to be so happy to make capable enemies."  Scion responds to Batwoman, waiting off to one side as the impressively enduring Oracle and the indisputably talented Spoiler begin taking apart the trap mechanism.  "...You've been to far places, Batwoman.  Fought strange foes.  Have you ever fought elven duskblades?  If we get flanked.. do you know what we ought to expect?"  The question is a shot in the dark; but worth the shot.  As they converse, Damien makes his preparations; drinking another potion of Longstrider; using the enchanted ring on one hand to create a small bowl of ink black paste, which he spreads carefully on the edges of three shuriken, and once on the edge of his mundane short sword.

----------


## Molan

Barbara unfurled her identify scrolls, casting their magic over the wands they'd discovered and watching as the scrolls themselves slowly evaporated in smoldering blue fire until they vanished into dust.

*Spoiler: Identify on Wands*
Show

These wands are both fully charged (50 uses), one is a _wand of attentive alarm_, and the other is a _wand of enduring scrutiny_ .


*"I know a little bit about them,"* Robyn offered. *"Duskblade is sort of an ancient form of professional noble warrior, kind of like a human knight, but with a much stricter style of training and combat. They are usually going to be carrying expensive, traditional elven weapons and they use exotic materials to make really sturdy light armor. But more than that, they can cast spells in combat, including casting them through their weapons. The Nigma's are not a very warlike house -- their standing guard isn't particularly large, so the ones we saw outside shouldn't have *too* many friends nearby. But they're pretty dangerous duelists. If we have to fight, we should get the drop on them, rather than getting ambushed ourselves."*

While Damien and Kate talked, Spoiler and Oracle worked on the door. They were able to disarm the magical trap protecting it, and after about five to ten minutes of work, Spoiler was rewarded with a loud *clack!* Sound as the door's metal internal mechanism finally gave way. The door didn't immediately open right away, but Spoiler pressed against it, and when Oracle started to help her the old rusty metal barrier slowly slid into the side of the wall, revealing a dark, dank hallway beyond.

There was another door at the end of the hallway. It was hard to tell at this distance exactly what the door looked like, but they could see some more hints of the telltale green paint on its surface.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

okay, free actions up! This next door is a bit trickier...

----------


## MrAbdiel

Stepping through the threshold, Damien immediately looks for a similar ÂswitchÂ to light up this room; but if that turns out to be fruitless search, heÂs more than happy to not learn his lesson and proceed first down to check the next door!

----------


## Molan

Damien made his way down the hall, finding a large iron door at the end. The door had no features, except for a large message carved into it's face. The message was spelled out in 2-inch block letters. It had no handle or apparent lock.

Barbara walked up to the door, alongside Damien, her divination magic radiating outward over it. 

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

Sixty nine separate Transmutation (electricity) effects exist here. All of them are overlapping.


The message read as follows:

*Spoiler: Door Riddle*
Show

Okay, so *IF* this worked there should be a handout on the screen for you all to read in Roll20. It's also in all of your inventories so you should be able to view it yourselves under the journal tab. Let me know if it works. All the handout should show is the message on the door.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make Intelligence, Search, and Spellcraft checks at your leisure.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Another riddle..." Damien says, comfortable stating the obvious, frowning at the panel of 2 inch letters.  "...This one more obscure."  He drifts a hand back and forth infront of the letters, mouthing the words as he reads them rapidly, then squints.

"...Something about the 'cure' and 'curse' pairing bothers me.  One doesn't usually cure a curse.  They're all squares - perhaps we are meant to rearrange the letters -"  He looks over the panel, and shakes his head.  "But there's no blank space you'd need, if it were a sliding puzzle.  Hmm."

Another pause from the child, before his head tilts a little; and he looks up towards the ceiling for more of the scrying orbs - not that he can do much about them.

"...One doesn't _cure_ a curse.  Traditionally, one _breaks_ a curse."

Slowly, speculatively, Damien reaches forth with one closed fist, intending to knock on the faces of the letters to see if there is a hollow report from anywhere - especially over the words "a curse".  But he is concious to reach slowly enough that one of his allies might stop him, if they have a superior idea, or have spotted some danger.

----------


## JbeJ275

Scion, I'm not going to stop you. But you should know you're moving your hand towards sixty nine different lightning spells. All of which hold overlapping aruas. Whether those are cast on several of the pieces and do pose some clue or whether they'll just fry you alive the moment you touch them I couldn't possibly say.

----------


## Molan

> Scion, I'm not going to stop you. But you should now you're moving your hand towards sixty nine different lightning spells. All of which hold overlapping aruas. Whether those are cast on several of the pieces and do pose some clue or whether they'll just fry you alive the moment you touch them I couldn't possibly say.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

JBE you should roll those checks I mentioned earlier if you get a chance.

----------


## JbeJ275

After a long moment passes, Oracle continues to observe the board. Then gritting her teeth she sets about finding some sturdy length of wood or stone from somewhere in the chamber, hoping if this does let out a shock it won't reach her all too tender flesh. Then her golved hand moves forward, carefully depressing the "s" in the word curse on the stone board.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Scion relents, at the warning.  He likes his answer; but is already marshalling reasons why his is the 'better' one even if it's not the right and useful one!  But he steps back, waiting for the outcome of Barbara's gambit.

----------


## Molan

Barbara pressed the "s" on the door, depressing it fully until it locked into place with an audible *click!*. The "s" remained in the depressed position, but the rest of the blocks began to extend outwards several inches on narrow iron rods. The configuration revealed the locking mechanism that had been built in behind the door; the door was still locked shut, but with the lock now visible, it was possible for Oracle, Scion or Spoiler to reach in and potentially disable it so they could continue through the temple.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

**queue noise from Zelda from when a puzzle is solved**

----------


## MrAbdiel

Nice.

This is all Scion says initially, as he moves in to relieve Oracle, taking a pair of pressure bars and using the hook and spade tips respectively to hold the mechanism gate open for Spoiler to move up and work.

While she does the lock pickin, Spoiler probably catches some of the rest of what Scion mumbles.  Something about second guesses anyway, and if you think about it, and if we could all just see magic.

*Spoiler: Riddling While Rome Burns*
Show

Taking ten  to give spoiler the old assist!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate activates her dorje.  This is a perfect time for an ambush.

----------


## Molan

The metal lock makes a loud *clack!*, And the lock moves into the open position. The door is hard to move; Spoiler and Robyn are forced to shoulder it open with Kate standing back at the ready. The metal door finally creaks open, and reveals a musty chapel beyond.

The room is small, 10x10ft, but it's better preserved than a lot of the rest of the temple, despite some old broken candles and papers littering the ground. There's an offering bowl in the shrine in front of a platinum statue of the Moonbow, and a long silk tapestry handing next to it, and the bowl contains 300gp of old offerings.

There's another door leading out of the room, and this one appears rusted into the open position. Beyond it is a dark hall; only Robyn's torch provided any illumination. Fifteen feet down the dark hall, a short corridor went right, leading to another closed (and, to Oracle's enhanced abilities, magically enchanted) door. This one looked dark and unused though; a thick layer of dirt and slime covered the ground, unbroken by footprints.

The hallway continued 20 feet past this door, and turned left. Where the hall ended, several more green glowing Nigma sigils were slapped on the stone, goading the party on.

As they surveyed the area, Spoiler was able to determine that the chapel was untrapped. Scion moved past her, creeping quietly down the hall, and with some caution, discovered that the section of Hallway between the dark, closed door and the "?" Sigils _was_ trapped. A 10ft area of that section of the floor was rigged with pressure plates. The trap would have once been deadly, but time and water had damaged it. The pressure plates were slightly rusty, and they revealed several receding openings in the dark wall when tampered with. Something unpleasant was clearly designed to come out of those openings.

Fortunately, the damaged trap proved easy to disarm. When Damien had circumvented the threat, he crept a bit further down the hall to see what happened past the bend. The hallways receded into darkness, but with some help from Robyn's torch he was able to make out that the end of the hall was blocked; the ceiling had collapsed, closing off the rest of the hallway. 

However, halfway down the hall, there was another door, to the right. Damien would have missed it, but it was tellingly marked with a halo of "?" Marks.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay so you have a room with some valuables, one door down the next hall that appears unused and muck covered, and past that, a trap, which Damien was able to disarm with a 10. (Also took the liberty to Take 10 the chapel for Spoiler). 

The hall turns left; it's marked here deliberately by the Nigma's. Past the turn in the hall, there's another marked door, and then past that door is a wall of rubble where the temple has collapsed, cutting off any further explanation.

So, you can follow the marks, or try the muck door, and make a decision about looting the chapel.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien is interested in the shrine.  The wealth he can take or leave - he's seen enough gold and platinum in the last couple of years to not find its lustre especially impressive.  But the fact that Nigma's impious goons, not to mention any previous temple-looters, have left such a trove undisturbed seems off to him.  He takes a moment to search the nook, especially behind the tapestry; after which he'll be satisfied.

*Spoiler: Roll!*
Show

A doomed Search Roll; but heck, it can't be too high of a DC to see anything that's hidden behind the tapestry!  *Searchin'* - (1d20+2)[*19*]

----------


## Molan

Surprisingly, there doesn't seem to be *anything* hidden behind the tapestry. The room appears to be exactly as it seems; old, unused, filled with some valuables but little else.

There's no obvious materialistic reason why Nigma's elves left it untouched.

----------


## Feathersnow

Maybe he didn't want to piss off his gods even more?  I mean, he's a banker, petty theft should be beneath him? 
Kate hints maybe they should also leave the stuff alone, in her entitled opinion.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle approaches the magical door, attempting to determine the school and power of magic, then search it for any clues that might further indicate the nature of the enchantments or spells. If nothing else it might be worth dispelling it if there was no other clear path forward.

----------


## Molan

Scanning the door, Oracle was able to detect powerful necromantic magic baked into it; it had been sealed an incredibly long time, from what she could see. Several Sylvan runes of warning etched it's surface; they looked like the writings of an elven arcanist but had an uncomfortably religious bent to them.

Down the hall, around the corner past the Nigma sigils, Scion continued to investigate the second, green-marked door.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Hmm... something old and powerful behind this one. Potentially fascinating and if we're lucky it might let us approach the thugs here from an unexpected angle but that much magic is dangerous. Let's try the marked door for now."

With that Oracle moved to the other door, careful not to touch the disarmed traps and began checking the sigil marked door, attempting to determine how it might be opened and whether there were any traps on the door itself.

----------


## Molan

Strangest of all, close investigation of the marked door revealed it _wasn't trapped at all_, which seemed counter-intuitive given everything they'd experienced this far. Stranger still, it's lock was just a rusty chain secured with a poor lock over the door handle, which Kate was able to break fairly easily.

The way was, it appeared, completely open. Whatever Lord Nigma wanted them to find inside the marked door was waiting. Oracle still felt a trickle of uncertainty -- could it really be this easy?

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

okay. So you can open the door here and I can describe the next room, but if you want to perform any divinations or other checks before you do so I will give you the opportunity.

----------


## JbeJ275

Torn between one plan and another Oracles weakened state eventually puts a stop to the plan of scouting ahead invisibly. Instead she refocuses that magic, into a divination attempt to divine the thoughts of any potential beings ahead of them, and waits the requisite twenty odd seconds for detailed thoughts to start coming in.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien presses up against the side of the doorway, hiding himself from viewers should it open.  He once more produces the Rod of Ropes in one hand, switched to its grappling hook mode, and awaits Oracle's assessment.

----------


## Molan

Oracle allows her consciousness to permeate through the door and into the next room. After a bit of scanning and panning the room, she finds several minds she can read. 

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

There are three minds you can read inside the room. Two of them are Int 7, one is Int 11.


As she scanned the room, thoughts began to form in front of her mind's eye. The smartest mind in the room was, simply put, terrified. It was clearly a woman, and she'd been trapped against her will, held in a cold, terrible room for days. She missed her father and wondered if anything terrible had happened to him, and she felt a burning, seething antipathy for the Nigmas. However, she was mostly mortified of the other beings in the room, and kept wondering if and when they'd "break free" and come after her. She felt completely alone.

The other two minds were mostly sleeping, but Oracle was struck by their cold, cruel calculating nature. They were heartless, emotionless beings, concerned only with food and their own interests. They'd been pacified, it seemed to her artificially, given the muddy nature of their consciousnesses, but they were still very much active, and if the murk would only clear, they mind find the motivation to wake up and hunt.

What concerned Oracle the most was the discrepancy; she counted three minds; but the woman -- who she could only assume was Verena -- was scared of _four_ beings that were in the room with her. Either the missing two beings lacked thoughts, or they were out of the range of her spell.

Though the door was not locked, trapped or enchanted, she could feel magic radiating from inside the room itself. That concerned her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Thank you everyone for your patience. I've updated roll 20 so that you can see where you're at.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Okay everyone, I've got a solid divinatory match for Verena on the other side of that door, as well as two to four other beings. These other beings.... not animals but not quite human level either.. on at least two of them, the others are either further away or mindless. They could be hellhounds, like Dent used or something else of roughly that intelligence. The other beings are bad news, be ready to take them out as soon as I crack the door. They're going to be about there, and there. She whispers, gesturing at the positions with her hands.

"There's more magic here too, maybe something keeping the creatures at bay that'll break once we crack the door. Everyone get ready to leap right into action as soon as I crack the door."

Oracle then gives her companies a dozen odd seconds to prepare themselves to rush in, or ask her whispered questions before opening the door, a spell ready on her lips.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien considers this new information, grimaces a little, and nods; putting away the poisoned shortsword for now, to give him a free hand along side the ever-useful rod of ropes.  He compresses himself against the doorframe again, and prepares himself to burst into the room, should the situation immediately seem urgent.

----------


## Feathersnow

Ready! says Kate, preparing to bend time to charge before anyone else does anything

----------


## Molan

Oracle pushed open the door.

The scene that opened before her was at once bizarre and terrifying in the extreme.

The room beyond was cavernous, to the point where dim lighting made it difficult for her mortal eyes to see all the way to the back, though her latent divinatory powers helped with that. With the exception of several 15'x15' metal panels spaced out at a few points throughout the room, the entire "floor" of the chamber was filled with some sort of green, caustic, noxious glowing liquid, which sparked and crackled as electric arcane power coursed through it. 

In the center of the room was another 15x15 metal platform, above which was suspended a gibbet. Inside the cage, which was hanging a few feet off of the ground via a long chain connected to the ceiling, was a young woman, quietly holed up and trembling inside the cage. It was impossible to reach her on foot -- whatever the dangerous looking substance filling the room was, it clearly wasn't to be swam through.

One of the metal platforms was directly in front of her. Oracle stepped out onto it to get a better look at the rest of the chamber, and that's when her gaze ascended upwards. She noticed a few things of import -- several more permanent scrying sensors, another large crystal globe, suspended in a web of chains to the ceiling, with green mists swirling inside of it. And, more concerning of all, several strange, partially translucent sacks hanging from the ceiling at alternating corners of the room, inside of which seemed to slumber some kind of many-legged, pail creatures.

Lights flashed within the great globe, and the face of Lord Nigma reappeared.

"*Well well well, you sure took your sweet time getting here.*" he mocked. "*Now we'll get to see if you're really up to the task of being adventurers in Gotham, or just another batch of wannabe bat-impersonators. The puzzle I've placed in this room is quite simple, for someone of even moderate intellect. Perhaps you'll crack the code! You'd better hurry though -- you'll need to reach the ship captain's daughter before my friends here do. They haven't been able to eat in quite a long while, and once I free them they'll be eager for a snack. 

Good luck, you miserable mercenaries! I doubt I'll be seeing you again.*"

Oracle noticed three things in quick succession: one, that the room appeared to be organized in somewhat of a grid -- metal dividers sat just above the edge of the liquid, turning each section of the floor into a 15x15 square, though most of those squares were filled with death water instead of a serviceable platform. Two, that there were several glowing runes etched into the walls, one on each of the four walls in the chamber; the runes were shaped like green "?" Symbols.

And three, that as Lord Nigma's visage disappeared into the glass globe above, bursts of angry green magical sparks burst out from it's moorings, flying in straight paths towards the sacks suspended in each corner of the room, and causing them to burst open as they struck each pod.

Long, spindly white legs -- eight each -- protruded from each of the now open sacks, unveiling the monsters within them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Roll for initiative.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate bends time and charges the nearest spider!
*Spoiler: OoC rolls*
Show



To hit, including charge and euphoria (1d20+12)[*26*]

Damage (2d6+4)[*10*]

----------


## Molan

The spider on the ceiling closest to the door crawled a few feet towards the party, and, while it was crouched almost directly above Kate's position, plummeted downward, hissing angrily and hungrily at the intruders. It resembled a giant wolf spider, except with a larger head and variegated markings in white, gray, and blue over the legs and back. Its eight eyes were silver-white.

It attempted to bite Kate when it plummeted downwards, but was utterly unable to pierce her defenses.

Two of the other spiders began to crawl along the maze of chains and girders in the ceiling towards where Verena was caged over the center platform. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler's turn.

Kate how many power points have you used today? Sorry I wasn't sure.

----------


## JoyWonderLove

Robyn, little help keeping them off Verena? Spoiler asked exactly while aiming the hand crossbow at the ceiling creeper closest to the caged girl. 

*Spoiler: Combat actions*
Show



HP: 21 max. 
AC: 18. 

1, Move action to reload after shot. 

2, Standard action to fire the crossbow at spider. 

Attack accuracy: (1d20+10)[*19*] (+10 normally)
Hand Crossbow damage: (1d4)[*4*]
Sneak attack damage: (3d6)[*7*] (theyre upside down on a ceiling, Im guessing flatfooted?)

----------


## MrAbdiel

As the horror spider dropped and engaged Batwoman in mortal combat, Scion grimaced at the tight boundaries of the situation.  The glowing rules that probably manipulated the puzzle; the sea of deadly energies; the limited floor and air space and the rapidly closing threat of the spiders.  The juvenile genius intellect whirled and settled on its plan of action, and he thumbed the Rod of Ropes to its zip line function.

I can get her.  I can get the girl.  I just need another twenty seconds without those spiders on her!  Buy me time!

He raised the rod high, stepped back to the right of the door, and fired, twitching his wrist at the calculated moment.  The forward mounted hook shot forth through the air, just above the gibbet, and jerked back to snare its hook around the chain suspending it.  The rear facing hook short back, banged off the wall behind with a loose fifteen foot length behind it, and then guided through Damiens hand as it sought its natural tension, snared its hook on the stone doorframe as high as Damien could reach; about six feet up.  As the line drew taught, it naturally pulled the dangling gibbet somewhat toward the door; likely alarming the girl as the line locked in place.

----------


## JbeJ275

Orcale nods at Scions words and readies a spell, now prepared to conjure _Grease_ and drop one of those phase spiders into the Acid pits the same moment they placed a hairy foot anywhere over the two central channels bordering their corner of the room.

----------


## Molan

Robyn looked a bit nervous; the chilling display inside the room was shocking, no two ways about it. But she nodded at Spoiler and winked.

*"No problem."*

She raised a crossbow of her own and fired, matching Spoiler's target. Both women's bolts sailed across the room almost in unison, smacking into the farthest-most spider. Bluish black ichor poured out from it's carapace and splashed and sizzled into the deadly enchanted liquid below, and the spider made a shrill clicking noise as it hissed in pain.

Kate rammed the speartip of her polearm into the Spider as it descended. It was shrewd move, but nearly cost her; as the seven hundred pound beast smashed towards her and she counter-struck she nearly fell off of the platform into the soup. But the speartip found purchase, against all odds, ripping out a chunk of white carapace and yielding a satisfyingly angry shriek from her opponent. Now they were both locked in essentially adjacent combat, despite it's large size and reach and her own heavy weapon, the two grappled to try to destroy one another without falling over.

While Oracle stood at the ready, bound magic coruscating through her hands, Damien set up his zip line, shaking the cage and drawing a frightened yelp from Verena. On the other side of the room, the fourth spider started moving, but as it watched it's compatriots suffer, it seemed to blink and sparkle for a moment before it's outline became hazy and fuzzy, and the entire creature seemed almost imperceptible, though it's smokey, blurry form could still be seen stalking along the ceiling, taking a circuitous route towards the party on the platform.

All the while, the first spider moved dangerously close to Verena, now about fifteen feet away from the gibbet. Watching his allies suffer, this spider phased too, it's outlines becoming murky. The spider on the platform tried again to bite Kate, but had no more luck piercing her defenses than before. The spider that Stephanie and Robyn had shot phased as well, and continued it's advance -- but it'd now switched targets, heading south towards the party rather than towards Verena. She was left alone with one attacker still pursuing her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, Spoiler's turn again. I may have penalized that spider's AC a bit more than I should have to let that charge defense in buuuut....he _seems_ like he ought to have been flat-footed and charge-penalized. So idk whatever sue me lol.

Good news is, now instead of 4 spiders trying to eat the hostage, there's only 1! The bad news....well.....

----------


## Molan

Now lacking any obvious targets on the ceiling, Spoiler and Robyn opened fire on the spider nearest Kate, each of them landing rounds into it's big, hideous white body.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Unable to bring her might axe to bear against the spider, the armored figure shoulder-checks the monster!

*Spoiler:  rolls*
Show


To hit (1d20+10)[*17*]
Damage  (1d6+1)[*6*]

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Stay calm, Verena!"  Damien calls, from the doorway.  "Stay quiet and still!  We're gonna get you out!"

With Spoiler, Robyn and Batwoman putting the business on the spider closest to the door, Damien continues the assembly of his plan.  With a click, the 'middle' part of the Rod of Ropes detaches from the zipline, freed into his hand after sprouting a pair of leather hand loops.  With a minimal effort, he pulls himself to stand on the now taut line, one foot infront of the other, one hand braced on the wall, the other hand clutching the important slider for the zipline.  Grimacing briefly at the nearby spider - and, for that matter, at the three spiders he cannot see - he turns his attention back to the locked cage of the gibbet, points his fist, and activates the ring his father gave him; a tight, barely visible spiral of arcane influence whipping forth to unlock the cage door, for later access.

----------


## Molan

The padlock fell open to the metal grating under the gibbet, and the door creaked slightly open, but Verena didn't appear mollified. She cowered inside the cage as above her, two of the hideous white spiders reappeared on the ceiling, each working to carefully crawl their way down towards her. The first one began to descend carefully but comfortably; the second, however, found itself in a bit of a pickle.

As it reappeared, Oracle spotted it and unleashed her spell, coating the area above the spider in grease. It slipped and scrambled, but didn't fall as she'd hoped into the dangerous liquid below. Instead it stared at her angrily, considering its next move.

Back on the platform, Robyn kept her reloaded crossbow at the ready but began to hum a low, throaty, ancient elven chant; it was almost more of a poem than a song, but it's rhythmic stanzas began to building the air around the party and they could feel arcane energy begin to agitate just beyond reality's veil.

Kate's opponent again tried to snap at her, and again found it's deadly-looking fangs sorely wanting.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay.

First off, Jbe, I'm sorry. I rolled that spider's reflex save three effing times it just wouldn't fall, lol.

At this point, you have one (1) spider beginning to approach Verena's cage and put the mission (and her) in jeopardy. The rest of the spiders seem distracted, though one is still near her.

You all get a +1 morale bonus versus charm and fear effects and a +1 morale bonus on attack and damage rolls.

It's Spoiler's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Maintaining eye contact with the two largest of the horrible beasts eyes, Oracle stops casting on her own and instead chooses to wield her pilfered wand of fireballs, she yells "Duck!" at Verena as fire blossoms around the two spiders waiting on the celing above her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Down to twelve charges, I'm not sure if I have the damage or DC for that wand anywhere? Couldn't find it in the IC. Down to 12 remaining charges btw.

I think that if they take any daage they have to roll again for the Grease though as 




> Being Attacked while Balancing
> 
> You are considered flat-footed while balancing, since you cant move to avoid a blow, and thus you lose your Dexterity bonus to AC (if any). If you have 5 or more ranks in Balance, you arent considered flat-footed while balancing. If you take damage while balancing, you must make another Balance check against the same DC to remain standing


Though that's a balance check rather than a reflex save, and DC10 rather than Barbara's DC.

----------


## Molan

*The Rod, the rod!"* Damien called out as Spoiler reloaded her crossbow. She shared a mildly annoyed glance in his direction for a moment before realization dawned in her expression. She drew her _rod of ropes_ from her belt, aimed it dead center of mass for the white spider that was dueling Kate, and pressed the second button.

The _rod's_ grappling claw flew out with a burst of force, rope trailing behind it, and it smashed into the base of the spider's abdomen. Oracle felt a brief moment of shock and horror from the creature's thoughts as it's silvery eyes widened, just before it was knocked clear of the metal platform and lurched straight into the growling green substance.

As it's body entered the liquid, everyone around could feel a sudden surge of stomach-churning arcane energy.

*Spoiler: Checks to Identify effect*
Show

Spellcraft, K. Arcana at will.

Oracle Take 10: The green lake doesn't appear to be an actual liquid substance occupying a container so much as a powerful spell with permanency effect placed over it.

K. Royalty and Nobility to determine who might have placed such a powerful effect.


The effect was horrific. Magical energy crackled and burned, and the noxious green "liquid" washed over the unfortunate beast, seeming not so much to drench it but burn it away. It popped, crackled, smoked, and it's white carapace turned deep black as bubbling, cooking ichor exploded out of it's shell. It briefly wailed in agony before what was left of it curled up and died, it's massive white legs, now burnt black, curled up in the air like a fist, a plume of horrific smelling smoke continuing to pour upwards from where it died as it continued to smolder and disintegrate in the "lake".

For a brief moment, everyone's eyes were wide with shock, and Spoiler looked down at the innocuous-seeming murder weapon in her hand, somewhat stunned by the havoc it'd wrought.

"*Okay,*" Robyn said in between her chants just off of Spoiler's shoulder, sounding concilatory, *"So maybe don't touch the green water."*

Filled with grim resolve, Oracle followed Spoiler's lead, but instead of drawing a rod from her belt, she drew her captured wand instead. She aimed it at the spiders moving towards Verena, and the ceiling above them, carefully placing the blast of the wand's spell high enough that it would clip the spiders but miss the girl.

A malevolent ball of flame leapt from the tip of the wand, erupting into a massive fiery explosion above the gibbet; it was so hot, a wave of heat washed over the faces of the party, as though they were standing too close to a bonfire. It was too much for one of the spiders, it cooked in it's shell, bursting apart and falling to the platform below a burning husk. The second spider fared better, but only by a small degree; it was horribly burned by the fireball spell, and it lost it's grip as the grease on the ceiling set alight. It scrambled it's legs and screamed as it lost it's footing, falling towards the platform the same way it's dead compatriot had, banging on the edge of the metal and falling helplessly into the angry green magical liquid below. It died as horribly as the first spider had, and though Verena let out a shriek of terror, she was unharmed, and out of immediate danger.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay!

First of all, I think I forgot to add the wand stats. It's pretty juiced; 8d6 damage, Reflex 16 for half (spiders rolled horribly this turn). 

Kate and Damien both have turns right now as we went a smidge out of order, but with Spoiler and Oracle having smoked (literally) the three spiders, there's only one left.

The bad news is, he's ethereal.

Good luck!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate steps backwards and braces for a charge.   The spider would have to be truly stupid to try it, but denying it an option was the best she could do.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien, standing atop the taut cable connecting the cage to the doorframe across a sea of corrosive toxin, watches with the same stunned amazement as everyone else as one of the spiders is left burning on the steel in the middle of the room, and two are committed to absolute dissolution.  But his final reaction is one of almost maniacal fascination; and he cannot help but turn his wild boy-with-magnifying-glass grin to Kate, Barbara and Stephanie.

"Nice."

It is distinctly the kind of delight in insectile suffering that in almost every case reaches its zenith in ten year old boys crouching over anthills; and in a very slim fraction is merely the first stop on a meteoric ascent that will not peak before it deep into much worse cruelties.  One must hope that the child of Bruce Wayne is in the former category.

He takes one step away from the wall, all business now; one foot in front of the other, arms loosely to his sides as he balances upright on the rope.  It is clear that this death-defying balancing act will take quite a minute to complete.  It is clear that every step is a perilous taunting of the recently displayed magical acid below.  And then, all at once, it _isn't_ clear why neither of those things is true; and the suspiciously capable son of Gotham's most famous cad _runs_, effortless, up the wire.

Arms loosely to his sides and trailing a little behind him, Scion races up the zipline at a dead sprint; over the dissolving spider, across thirty feet of straight drop into horrific death, and all the way to Verena's cage where, at the terminus of the dash, he simply tucks in his arms, and pindrops five feet with his forward momentum to grab the side of the cage with one hand, and clap the zipline's slider into position with the other.  He indicates with his head for Verena to grab the leather loops of the slide.

"Ready to go home?"

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Damien runs across the tightrope!  Normally the DC for such a maneuver would be prohibitively high, but the Nimble Charge skill trick permits me, once a scene/combat, to run or charge in such treacherous conditions without requiring a balance check!

At the end of a run, he's hanging onto the cage with one hand, guiding Verena to the zipline loops.  Next turn, once she's grabbed them, they're gonna zoom together back to safety!

----------


## Molan

Damien's incredible balance was a sight to behold, but his plan was more than a little daring -- bringing Verena back across the deadly acid on his zipline was risky, to say the least, and with one of the spiders still unaccounted for, it was more perilous still. 

Robyn seemed to recognize the danger, and she placed her hand on Spoiler's arm to get her attention, a look of fear in her eyes saying more than words ever could. Oracle seemed to assess the same problem.

*"That little runt's going to get that poor girl killed."* she said flatly.

Spoiler and Robyn rushed onto the platform where Kate was standing guard, surveying the scene. An idea seemed to occur, and Robyn called to Stephanie;

*"The runes!"* She fired her crossbow at one of the nearer *"?"* runes, but in her panic, the bolt missed. It struck just near the "." at the bottom of the sigil, bouncing off the wall.

But Spoiler had gotten the idea. She turned to the sigil to her left, and fired off a round with her hand crossbow. This bolt struck true, and the rune seemed to flicker and temporarily fade, only a shadowy outline of the mark where the glowing green run had once been. On command, a series of metal platforms burst from the angry green liquid filling the room, creating a platform bridge running along the left side of the room, covering two sides. The grates in the metal plates seemed to allow the acid to pass through them; whatever kind of metal the room was made out of, the platforms at least *appeared* to be immune to the ravages of the magical substance.

They'd discovered the puzzle's mechanism, but hadn't solved it. Even as Spoiler smiled at her own success, Oracle noticed something. The rune's outline was flickering, slowly, but the flicker was getting faster with every second that ticked by.

*"The grates are on a timer."* she declared, as clinically as before.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Took some liberties here. Joy is still AFK so I rolled for her and Robyn. Take 10 on Intelligence gives Oracle the timer deduction for the rune trap. No one has (yet) deduced exactly which runes connect to which potential bridge channels.

If Kate is holding fast in her position (feather you let us know what you want to do), then it's Damien's turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

> *"That little runt's going to get that poor girl killed."*


Damien was preparing to zip with Verena back to safety when the quiet sound of that omen reached his ear.  With the hiss of the dissolving spiders, he couldn't quite make out who had said it; but after his face flushed red with childish anger he found his centre, and sought the truth in the projection.

One of those spiders is still out there.  It hasn't reappeared; and with the one that had tried its luck against the red-haired veteran on the far platform, it seemed like that was not a good place to go to fill an empty stomach.  If _he_ were the spider, outnumbered but desperate, he would look for the more vulnerable target, and reveal himself only to strike before hiding again.

Leaving the zipline's slider in the cage with Verena, Damien frowns a little, keeping his senses about him.  "...We're going to get you out.  Just... stay there.  Stay low."

With the same predatorial slowness as the spiders, Damien climbs back on top of the gibbit cage, slows his breath, draws his sparking short sword, and waits in place while his form begins to smoke and blur.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

A move action, combined with a weapon draw, up 5 ft to the top of the gibbet.  Preparing an action to attack the spider when it becomes visible!  If I'm imagining the terrain right, the spider will either have to ignore Damien (unlikely?) to try to poke through the bars of the cage at Verena; or else it'll have to swing on him first.

I'm not... suuuuure how the rules will work for phase spider suddenly appearing and then attacking will interact with a prepared action to attack.  Do I just react to it normally?  Do I need to roll some kind of save to detect it and strike before it does?  Am I flat footed for that attack?  These are the questions that keep me awake at night.


EDIT: As per OOC discussion, dropped a KI to KI DODGE right now.  20% miss chance!

----------


## Molan

> Damien was preparing to zip with Verena back to safety when the quiet sound of that omen reached his ear.  With the hiss of the dissolving spiders, he couldn't quite make out who had said it; but after his face flushed red with childish anger he found his centre, and sought the truth in the projection.
> 
> One of those spiders is still out there.  It hasn't reappeared; and with the one that had tried its luck against the red-haired veteran on the far platform, it seemed like that was not a good place to go to fill an empty stomach.  If _he_ were the spider, outnumbered but desperate, he would look for the more vulnerable target, and reveal himself only to strike before hiding again.
> 
> Leaving the zipline's slider in the cage with Verena, Damien frowns a little, keeping his senses about him.  "...We're going to get you out.  Just... stay there.  Stay low."
> 
> With the same predatorial slowness as the spiders, Damien climbs back on top of the gibbit cage, slows his breath, draws his sparking short sword... and waits.
> 
> *Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
> ...


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Oracle's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle was tempted to try and break the spider's phasing, as plunging it back into this world could force it to fight on their terms, but besides maybe being close to Scion she simply didn't have enough information as to where she should focus her magics. Instead she simply prepared a _Glitterdust_ spell, to try and blind the creature the second it phased back in, she was tempted to send Juluis to interact with the sigils but the spider's poison simply posed to great a risk on that front, instead temporarily content to let Spoiler focus on activating each of them in turn.

----------


## Molan

Precious seconds ticked by, and still the spider failed to show itself. Spoiler reloaded her hand crossbow and fired it to the right side of the room. Again, a series of metal platforms rose from the angry green liquid and locked into place above it. This time they covered the right and far-most walls, and with the first Rune Spoiler had shot, created a ring of steel -- although perhaps temporary steel -- around the entire room. Still, no path immediately emerged leading towards the Gibbet.

The rune on the left, which had begun blinking slowly, started to blink a little faster.

Reloading her own light crossbow, Robyn moved past Spoiler and Kate, walking up to the edge of the steel platform. She took aim just around the right side of the gibbet, towards the back of the room, and fired. 

This time, her aim was true. The bolt sailed all the way across the chamber and struck the backmost rune. Paydirt.

Platforms appeared; one protruding from the rear of the center platform under the gibbet, leading towards the temporary path along the back wall. A second set of platforms appeared to the right, leading towards a new section of platforms Spoiler had just raised. None of the newest crossings connected to the first set Spoiler had triggered, the ones whose parent rune was now blinking ominously quickly. Instead, Robyn's newly discovered path connected to Spoiler's second path, the newer one, and both runes thrummed and blinked at the same speed.

It was thirty five feet from the gibbet to the right wall. Another thirty five feet to reach the wall near the doorway, and five more feet to joint he rest of the party on their original platform.

The spider was nowhere to be found. The runes continued to blink.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate, then Damien, then Barbara. Verena will act on any turn you give her instructions. She looked panicked.

----------


## Feathersnow

"And stay down, you spider!!" Shouts Kate, trying to Intimidate the Spider into doing anything buy attacking the delicate operation of rescuing Verena. 

*Spoiler:  Intimidation*
Show

(1d20+3)[*11*]

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Get ready, Verena.  When I say _grab 'em,_ you put your hands through the loops on this slider, okay?  And hold on tight.  And then when I say _go_, we're pushing off together and getting you out of here.  You can close your eyes for the slide down if you want."  He gives the girl fair warning, but not a lot of warmth in it; then calls to his allies: "We're coming back - cover us!"

*Spoiler: OOC Actions*
Show

No actions, just establishing some IC communication!

----------


## JbeJ275

Let me try and clear it first. If its hiding beyond this plane I may be able to flush it out before its ready.

With that, Barbara set to banish any magics the spider might be using to bridge the planar gap.

(1d20+6)[*26*]

----------


## Molan

Oracle's spell filled the room, and for a brief second, there was a distinction *popping* sensation as the arcane miasma filling the space briefly seemed to dissipate. Her invisible spell sent a shockwave along the ceiling, and as it traveled the missing spider suddenly snapped back into existence, just a few feet over Damien's zipline, looking nervous and confused.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Well; that changed things dramatically.  He couldn't very well bring Verena across with that in the way.  

"You could have hid in the corners, *Nidak-Sholei*; I would have let you live.  But your menace overpowers your sanctity."

With that cryptic pronouncement, he stepped out onto the cable, balancing over the sea of acid; just far enough from Verena that the spider could not rush and reach around him to her.  With his sword held to one side, empty hand a little straighter in the other, he seems to have no trouble holding his balance; even when he brings both arms across his body, dextrously produces a shuriken, and flicks it out at the obstructionist arthropod!

*Spoiler: Fling!*
Show

(1d20+11)[*27*] to hit!  The damage will be (1d2)[*1*] + (3d6)[*6*] sudden strike damage.  Presuming I don't tank the attack roll, it's poisoned, so this spider can make a DC 13 Fort save or immediately go unconscious.  Seems unlikely that it'll come off on the spider, but it'd be poetic as hell.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show




> Well; that changed things dramatically.  He couldn't very well bring Verena across with that in the way.  
> 
> "You could have hid in the corners, *Nidak-Sholei*; I would have let you live.  But your menace overpowers your sanctity."
> 
> With that cryptic pronouncement, he stepped out onto the cable, balancing over the sea of acid; just far enough from Verena that the spider could not rush and reach around him to her.  With his sword held to one side, empty hand a little straighter in the other, he seems to have no trouble holding his balance; even when he brings both arms across his body, dextrously produces a shuriken, and flicks it out at the obstructionist arthropod!
> 
> *Spoiler: Fling!*
> Show
> 
> [roll0] to hit!  The damage will be [roll1] + [roll2] sudden strike damage.  Presuming I don't tank the attack roll, it's poisoned, so this spider can make a DC 13 Fort save or immediately go unconscious.  Seems unlikely that it'll come off on the spider, but it'd be poetic as hell.


...OH. My. God. I can't believe that worked.

Spider's Fort Save result was *12*.

Okay ...whelp. that's that then, lol. Moments like this make me wish that Inspiration was a thing in 3.5e feels like there should be a reward for a kill like that.


Damien's shuriken flew out from the folds of his gi and sang across the distance between the gibbet platform and the remaining spider. It was a beautiful throw -- it cought directly in one of the spider's bulbous blue eyes, causing a squeel and chitter of anger and pain. 

But a moment after the spider had absorbed the blow, it began to move and away strangely, as though it had become dizzy or distracted. The strange gyrations turned into a struggle, and eventually the monster's legs seemed to abandon it altogether, slipping free of the chains it'd gripped on the ceiling and falling almost listlessly towards the electric green soup below.

It died just as spectacularly and horribly as it's brothers, perhaps even more so as it seemed to explode and flash fry once it hit the substance. The horrible popping and splashing was over in a moment, and Damien held onto Verena and guided her through the process of zip lining back towards the safety of the far side of the room.

Just as the two of them had arrived back with the rest of the party, the first "?" Sigil that Spoiler had struck finally stopped blinking and started glowing again, and the platforms it'd raised sank back below the lethal angry liquid in the floor. The other sigils blinked faster and looked ready to follow suit. The puzzle remained unfinished, but Lord Nigma's riddle had been answered. Verena was safe.

*"Oh my GODS!"* she gasped, trembling in fear. *"Who *are* you all? Are you adventurers?"*

The party had secured the temple, for now. All that was left was to egress safely, return through the haunted wood and pray Lord Wayne's ship would still be waiting for them at the dock when they arrived. It would be morning time, by now. They were starting to feel a bit tired.

----------


## Feathersnow

They call me the Batwoman,  defender of the innocent,  scourge of the guilty!  it was obvious to Kate that she should be in her vigilante persona while baddies might still be able to hear.

----------


## JbeJ275

"The details are unimportant, what matters is getting you out of here and into safer hands. Do you need to rest here or are you okay to start walking? We have a ship waiting for us. Did you see who took you?"

With that barbara assesed the condition of the others and started heading back out of the dungeon.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Batwoman, and companions." Damien offers, apparently happy enough to centre Kate in the legend to grow from the rescue.  And why not? She'd gone toe to toe with one of the monstrous spiders, and the son of Wayne wondered if she had an idea how crippling the venom of those creatures would have been to a woman less skilled, or less armoured.  Going back for the armour was definitely the right decision.

"But Oracle's right; we ought to move quickly.  I warn you, Verena, the way out of this place won't be entirely pleasant - we'll have to go through some murky water, but it'll save us from needing to fight more of these cretins.  But stick with us, we'll get you home to your father."

----------


## Molan

Verena shook a bit, still hugging herself as though she'd gotten a chill down here during her time in the dungeon -- which, to be fair, was likely.

*"I...I think I'm fine. My legs are kind of shaky, but I don't want to wait. I've got to get out of this place."* Spoiler nodded in assent, and began to scope around the tunnel they'd come through to look for any new signs of danger. *"And yea, of course I got a good look."* Verena continued. 

*"I was picked up one night...Gods...I don't know how many days or weeks ago it was now...when I was closing up my cousin's bakery in the Village,* "The Village" was a colloquialism for the Gotham Village neighborhood, in Midtown. "*"and I was trying to hurry up and make the Arcane Rail station before the night lines started running. There's this sweet spot at Dusk where you can hit the south line after the Bards have cleared off but before the Thieves Guilders start hanging out. I always took that rail back home after the end of business."*

*"A bakery? But I thought your father was a ship captain."* Kate observed.

*"Exactly,"* said Verena. *"He's away all the time; he provides for me, but my mom's sister has a huge family and they need all the help they can get, especially ever since mom died. Helping out at the bakery was the easiest way for me to make myself useful while father was running his voyages."*

*"Were you aware your father was being forced to run contraband for the Dark Market?"* Spoiler wondered aloud.

Verena frowned, looking sad but resigned.

*"Yea, sad to say. Father hated betraying Lord Fox like that...but what else was he going to do? The Merchants' Guild was practically gone...Hells, I've been locked up here so long Fox may well be dead for all I know. Most of the nobles are in on the black markets and the crime gangs that rule this city at night. Everyone's getting their cut of the harvest, and us common folk are the grain. Father did what he could to keep us safe. That's actually partially how I got pinched, to be honest."*

*"What do you mean?"* Robyn asked, looking concerned.

*"Well, the Thieves Guild soldiers only come around on the weekends to that street for protection money...it was the middle of the week so when I noticed a couple of gobs watching me close up from across the street, I assumed it was the Baron's men."*

*"Was the Dark Market stalking you?"* Robyn pressed.

*"Oh ya, that's what I'm saying. The Market lost most of their holdings in Midtown after the Dark Knight got Zucco thrown into the dungeons under Blackgate. But once he got out they'd been tryin' to claw they're way back in. Gotta imagine that's why they went after my father. Anyway, they couldn't snoop around on weekends or nights because that's when Velnire's boys were out in force, so they would snoop around the bakery on weekdays to remind me to watch my mouth. As long as they didn't actually bother the store, it didn't worry me much. Papa was running the contraband like they asked, why would they mess up a good thing? So these two goons are across the street, covered in hoods and what have you, so I don't think anything of it. Problem is, after I'd locked up, they rolled right into the place before I could leave and bagged me."*

*"Alright, so, did you see who they were?"* Spoiler pressed.

*"Yea, I did. They were elves. Duskblades I think. I'd never seen anything like it. We get used to seeing the House Guards of this noble or that marching around in the day time or waging their private wars at night, but you never really see any Nigma men; I figured they were all just protecting the Commerce Bank. I had no idea what was going on when they barged in. But one of em tossed some magic around and I was out like a light. When I woke up I was being dragged back here. They never told me why I'd gotten pinched; honestly, to me it made no sense. Everyone knows creeps like the Market and the Thieves all keep gold at the Commerce bank. Why would the Nigmas start a turf war with their own clients?"*

*"Well, we need to get you out of here, regardless."* Kate declared coolly. *"At present our options are to fight our way out, or swim back out the culvert, as Scion has detailed."*

Verena grimaced. *"Neither of those sounds very good. But I wonder, why'd they just leave me in here like this? We all heard that crazy ginger elf taunting you guys when you walked into this room...I guess that's Lord Nigma himself. If he knew you were here, seems like it would have been small work to send his boys in after you. What's keepin' em?"*

Robyn and Spoiler shared a worried look. It was a good question.

*"Anyways, who sent you guys? Have you talked to papa? Is he alright?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"I wonder if, this being some kind of game to Nigma, he did not take the opportunity to up with his men and leave while we were occupied here.  It seems.. wasteful to leave guards here, if there is nothing to guard; and foolish to leave the guards unalerted, if he had no intention of honoring the game.   If Batwoman can take a line through the culvert, I can go through after and scout the front entrance.  That way, at least, we know if we've these enemies to avoid.  Either way, I don't think we're in good shape to fight them, if they're there.  I can draw them away, maybe."

----------


## Feathersnow

The Batwoman nods curtly and doffs her armor for the swim.  It was a good plan, but she needed to stay in her persona.

----------


## Molan

The process of getting back out was long and laborious. They navigated their way back out of the sinking, decrepit temple, taking care not to trigger any of the traps they'd bypassed before. In the great hall at the beginning of the temple Nigma's scrying sensors continued to track their movements from high in the rafters; they tried as best they could to ignore them. Kate swam the rope back out from the culvert, and secured the entrance for Damien. Scion, in turn, got out and scouted around to the front of the temple, where Nigma'd positioned his Duskblades.

They were gone.

Sunlight was shining through the trees now, and the mystical air the forest had adopted at night had subsided...somewhat. I was impossible to feel like they weren't being watched, but they tried to shake off that nauseating feeling as best they could. Once the entire party was back through the culvert they slowly made their way back out of the woods. They passed by the ambush sight where the unseelie fey had attempted to lure them in by pretending to be the ladies of the lake. They tread cautiously, but the area appeared deserted, with the exception of the assassin vines still clinging to the tree at the center of the clearing. They coiled and twitched around the dead tree's trunk, and the party gave them a nice, long berth.

When they finally made their way back to the elven hamlet though, they were in for the greatest surprise. The area looked almost completely abandoned. The houses were still there but much of the arcane embellishments that had decorated them the day before were gone, leaving them looking slumped, drab, and unhappy. The tents were gone or partially taken down, the dancing lights and prestidigitation's of the night before all absent. No one was outside; the place looked almost completely empty, like it'd been dead for months or years.

It wasn't _completely_ empty though. At the tent adjacent to the Archmage's house, they found the old elven crone, stirring a foul smelling pot of something just outside. Wispy green tendrils lazily coiled through the air. The archmage was sitting back in a wooden chair, one hand lazily turning in circles through the air, the other casually following the lines of a book she was reading. She looked almost peaceful, even benign, except that she wasn't actually holding the book; it was hovering in the air in front of her, and the ladle of the pot was stirring itself, seeming to move in time with the motions of her hand, like a puppet being pulled be invisible strings. Her bard assistant was sitting next to her, tuning an elaborate looking elven instrument.

*"Did you find what you were looking for?"* the elf crone asked without looking up.

*"We did,"* Stephanie replied. *"But...what's happened here? Has the village been abandoned?"*

The old crone chuckled.

*"Abandoned? Perhaps, but not by me. Elven villages are not collections of buildings my dear, they are collections of people. Our sacred harmony has been disrupted; more than a few of our brothers and sisters have betrayed their traditions. Your actions yesterday revealed that House Nigma's treacherous tendrils reach much farther than we had anticipated. So we will move away from this shore, back into the forest, where we can be closer to our gods. We will find a way to atone...and to bring those who have strayed back into the fold."*

*"Treachery...are you talking about your assistant?"*

The crone scoffed.

*"What? Of course not."* she lifted up a glass case, inside which sat a very unhappy and nervous looking toad. *"His treachery was simple and unimaginative, just like he was. So will be his punishment. I was talking about the Nigmas. They've put their financial interests in front of the interests of the gods. They forgot their people and their traditions, and brought outsiders and imperials into our home. Reckoning with them will be sylvan business, and we will handle them. Now, begone, all of you. I have much work to do today, and besides you all look very tired. Besides, I'm sure your master is waiting for you."*

*"You've got it twisted, love."* Spoiler replied. *"We don't have any master, not really."*

*"Oh no?"* the ancient witch shot back. She looked up, for just a moment, to spare Stephanie a wry look. *"That sure looks like quite an expensive ship you came here on. But what do I know..."*

She went back to reading, and it was clear the conversation was over. The party began to walk back to the dock.

*"Gods..."* Robyn said, looking around with a pained, concerned expression. *"The whole village is moving? I can't believe this."*

*"This was your home, was it not?"* Kate asked.

*"It was...but now? I don't know. The elves seemed to always tolerate the Nigmas before, and they were more than happy to take outsider coin. But now that we've rescued Verena suddenly the whole place is packing up and leaving? I...I'm not sure I have much of a home, anymore."*

*"Perhaps it's not what the Nigmas did...perhaps it was us."* Damien observed absently.

*"What do you mean?"*

*"They didn't just bring Verena here...they attracted adventurers as well. Maybe the elves think that they'd attract the Justicars next. Maybe they took offense to House/Guild politics invading their island. Or maybe they finally figured out that the Nigma's had defaced the temple of the Moonbow. Either way, it seems like the fey's patience has run out."*

*"Actually, that might explain it more than anything."* Robyn added. 

*"What do you mean?"*

*"The fey. We didn't just retrieve Verena last night; we marched through the haunted wood, and fought with the fey. You can commit a lot of sins in elven society free from guilt, but you can't anger the spirits, or the gods. Given what the Nigmas did to that temple, it's not hard to see how their actions led to this outcome. The spirits are angry; the elves will feel compelled to appease them."*

*"Let's all agree not to be here for when that starts happening."* Barbara said. The party agreed.

The ship was still waiting for them at the dock, but the silent and stoic hooded House Wayne crewmen seemed much antsier to be on their way now that the sun was shining again. The party boarded and the crew hastily pushed off, and the ship quickly began to make it's way down river, putting the thorpe and the island behind them. The ship seemed to move on it's own animus, as though it's sails were filled with it's own private wind. The result was that they shot down the Queen's River at an alarming speed. They avoided South Channel and the Gotham River entirely, instead cutting the long way all the way past Downtown, and back up the East River before finally reaching the drab and intimidating shores of Wayne Isle. When they navigated through the thickest parts of the harbor, the Captain seemed to insist on maneuvering much faster than prudence allowed, resulting in several close calls with nearby Cogs and Holks that were making their way to and from the great trading warfs, and earning more than a few angry disapprobations from the crews aboard their decks.

Still, though, they'd made it back to the great island castle in short time, and the party finally, wearily dragged themselves off and back into the great keep. 

Sir Pennyworth was waiting for them; they were all led to lodgings inside the fortress; Robyn joined Spoiler in her room, the two companions felt much more comfort together in the great castle than apart. If Pennyworth was amused by the degree to which their party had grown since they'd left, he kept it to himself. Verena was provided a hot bath, fresh clothes and comfortable accommodation; everyone slept like corpses all through the morning and into the afternoon.

When they finally awoke, most of the party meandered their way back down to the great hall, where the old banners still hung. Someone had worked in the kitchen, though who, it was impossible to say. There was almost no one around anywhere inside Wayne Castle; the food almost seemed to magically appear on the great banquet table inside for them as they arrived. Verena ate ravenously; the Nigmas didn't appear to have fed her much, if at all, and Damien was right on her heels, happily scarfing down the seasoned meats and fresh baked breads the castle had provided. The rest of the party's appetites were a bit more subdued.

*"So I suppose we should try to get you back to your father."* Oracle eventually said, almost absently.

*"Yes please, if you could. I want to see home again. I hope father's alright. I don't even know if he's out at sea or not..."* as she spoke, a question she'd failed to answer the entire previous day suddenly seemed to dawn on her.

*"Hey. I never asked. How in the name of the gods did you all find me, anyway? Did someone hire you? Was it the lord of this castle? Have you seen my father? And who's in charge of the Merchants Docks now, anyway?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

QUEST COMPLETE! (Well, mostly)

Okie dokes. Time for some aggressive experience rewards. In addition to whatever you picked up on your journey, party receives 3,000 experience. Delivering Verena home may yield additional rewards.

Now that this leg is complete, there was a bunch of other stuff on your guys' plate you were juggling BEFORE you set out, so this could be a good opportunity to assess your next move.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara was among the last to arrive, having taken the time to get herself properly in order upon awaiting. Taming her wild and dirty hair, spending a good few mintes just sitting there and despising the world as her strength failed to fully return to her, then masking up and descending to the hall. 

"Well, to answer your questions in reverse order. Lord Fox continues to command the docks, though that grew dangerously close to falling through. Your father had recieved pressure, both from Nigma's men and other criminal elements offering to help secure you. We thought it expident to ensure your safety before he arrived back in the city and was compelled to do something inadvisable. He's still at sea, but we have no reason to believe he's anything more than worried for your sake."

"Some of us..." She said with a glance at Damien and Kate in particular, "are the retainers, of the Lord of this castle. Lord Wayne. After however many years of hiding up here and getting drunk he seems to have decided to put his finger to the scales once more. Others among us simply needed things from him, or in my case wanted to ensure your safety and needed the help of the others. Through our own knowledge and investigations we placed the Nigma's to that island, then tracked you down by intercepting and decoding one of Nigma's underlings' messages with the help of some modest divination."

"I imagine you'll be invited to stay somewhere by the Waynes or the Foxes, both to keep an eye on you and ensure your father is reminded of his prior loyalties. If you feel the need to thogh, feel free to ask me and I can put you up somewhere else."

With that said, Barbara returns to eating until the topic drifts around what they're to do next. 

"Unless anyone has access to a cleric or paladin of quite some expierience who's willing to ask very few questions I'll be unable to do little more than catch up on my spell research for the next few days. Whatever that fey did suck with me, and I can't be seen out and about like that without some unpleasant questions being raised."

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate pauses.  I think you should meet the Questor. She generally ministers to people of a lower station as part of her duties, but I can vouch for you. Kate seems to almost be smiling.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien listens to Barbara's breakdown of the situation, and nods along, arms folded.  "Oracle is right.  Lord Fox will put you up in a guest lodging with some security until the _Chraal_ returns from its voyage.  After that, we'll have to act quickly.  We've severed Lord Nigma's hold on the captain, but we will need to strike quickly to break the second extorting party.  But we have a little time until we need to do that."  When Kate offers up the Questor as a divine intervenor, he nods again; a great deal of assertiveness radiating off the child.  "Then it's agreed.  I'll arrange a carriage to take the to of you to your holy woman.  Spoiler and I will press Fox - and anyone else we need to - for more supply for the next part of our mission.  We'll see if we can track down some more Dark Marketeers, or an operation of theirs in the city; if we can break and bewilder them before the _Chraal_ gets back,  that'll make extracting the good captain from their oppression the easier.  And maybe, when we're at full strength and better equipped, we can discuss the.... greater threat we have previously spoken on.  That, too, won't wait forever."

He hops up from his chair - or down from it, reminding everyone of the fact that he is a child - and rounds the table to Oracle.  "Before I go summon your carriage... A word in private, miss Oracle?" He gestures, respectfully, to an adjacent room; a tiny gentleman ninja, protected only from being utterly ridiculous by the feats of violence they have seen him accomplish.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara nods to Kate's suggestion. "If you're sure they're trustworthy I'd be happy to meet them."

She's listening to Damien's plan uncertainly. There were still things she needed to do, both in terms of her studies and her own concerns within the city, but arguing about that while barely able to walk under her own power would get her nowhere. 

She frowns slightly at Damien's request to speak privately, internally wishing she'd comprimised and prepared a spell selection for today already. Nevertheless, she nods her acceptance and follows him into the adjacent room.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Once the door is closed, Scion - merely Damien, here -  stands uncomfortably for a moment.  Hands behind his back; hands at his sides; arms crossed; trying to find some composed posture, as he marshals words he is plainly not adept at marshalling.

"...This girl is safe, and Lord Nigma frustrated, because this team.  Least of all, because of myself.  Much easier as it would be, not all troubles can be overcome by silent approach and precision strike.  If we had not Brown, we would never have navigated the elf village successfully or gleaned enough of its secrets to move as fast as we did.  Without Dame Kane, we would have fought, and possibly lost to, those Duskblades, none of us strong enough to swim the culvert - or else been overcome by the spiders otherwise unable to penetrate her armor and technique.  And without you, we would not have pierced the matrix of arcane traps that lay in our way, nor been able to harvest through your magical talent the extra information that spurred us along.  All told, the three of you might have been able to pull this off without me."

This may be the closest thing to praise he is capable of delivering; but he quickly alloys it to a less pleasant thing.  Pulling open his gi, an angry red-purple line of the knitting scar from collarbone to navel divides his pale chest.  "But I got this throwing myself into the midst of enemies  so they wouldn't just stack up on you.  I've proven my dedication to the mission of this city's salvation.  I should have earned your trust by now.  You, Brown, and Kane obviously know each other.  You all know who I am.  The only unclosed loop is that I don't know who _you_ are.  And I want to know.  Your mental invasion talents are noted and have been very helpful to us before.  I'm guessing you haven't managed to penetrate mine because I'm trained to resist that kind of infiltration, but I don't think you are the kind of woman to politely decline the opportunity, and eventually you'll succeed.  I know you haven't yet, because I have secrets that would have made you react.  And I _could have_ found out who you are.  I could have snuck into your room and rifled through your things while you slept, and you wouldn't know.  But I didn't, because my father taught me better.  I deserve your trust, and he deserves your respect.  If you keep guarding yourself and your mission and you keep turning down my father's boons, the next Verena might well die in her cage.  Who are you, Oracle?  What is your name?"

----------


## JbeJ275

"You ask a lot more than most you know. You'd think risking my life for your father's guild intrests, staying with the group after having a dagger pushed into my spine, literally giving up my own strength to win this damn fight would be enough. And don't pretend you're asking me because I have to, if I meant you harm you'd have done it by now. I never asked for your identity, I never agreed to trade it for mine. Far as I can tell you don't have anything worth hiding in your identity, you sleep in a fortress, you eat in your protected halls and you travel by a private ship with sailors your father bought. Whoever trained you is unlike any who walk openly in this city, I still need to walk among the mage colleges. I can't tell whether Damien or Scion is truly the one wearing the mask. If you'd ever been caught in the 'mental invasion' i wonder if even that would reveal it to me. But if that's the price to give this city a hope...

With that Barabra stops for a second, nervously drawing in  shuddering breath.

I'll give my health for the justicars, and if need be my life. For Gotham, I've already sacrificed my social life and my relationships with most of my family. I have no hobbies and no free time.  Barbara wasnt talking to Damien, not anymore--this was for her own benefit. I allow myself few luxuries, but the peace of mind I earned by indulging my insecurity was one of them. An expensive and painful luxury, yes, but one that I relished. Sadly, it's still to much I can do nothing less than to set an example for this city.

"But I'm going to ask you to do the same. My father had rather different lessons to teach about ignoring the secrets of those who you put your trust in, and ones that were taught in a harder way. If I do this I expect the same honesty from both you and your father, the real truth of it. We'll be true open books to each other, and while I still won't become beholden to the man I'll communicate what I need rather than storming off."

Having thus gathered up her will, Barbara removed her domino mask and undid her hair, letting the young Wayne hier see her face.

"I am Barbara Gordon, heir apparent to the Gordon's of Justicar's keep. And I think it's time you told me about Bruce Wayne's secrets."

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien listens to them responding salvo.  The gunmetal eyes strain at her features trying to pry the answers out of her before they are given; but when the answer comes he doesnt seem to have won the race.  Confusion, recognition, suspicion, then finally acceptance come over his face.  He goes through a moment of unloading whatever second volley of reasons he had chambered expecting defiance, and finally nods.

 Alright, Gordon.  Ill speak with my father.

----------


## Molan

*=== CHAPTER 4: THE DARK KNIGHT ===*

Damien nodded.

*"Alright Gordon. I'll speak with my father."*

When the two of them rejoined the rest of the party, Oracle's mask was back in place, though it was no longer for the benefit of anyone present; she still saw no reason to advertise her identity to any of Wayne's servants, though now at least the party was all familiar with one another. A new figure had joined the diners while Barbara and Damien were talking: Sir Pennyworth. 

*"Ah, young Master Wayne. I was just getting acquainted here with our newest guest. She tells me you lot all managed to spring her from a fairly tight spot."*

Verena shook her head as if still in disbelief. 

*"Saved my life is what they did. Lord Nigma is a madman. I shouldn't be surprised these days, but I can't believe the Empire allows lunatics like that to run this city."*

Alfred snorted. *"It's frustrating, that's true enough. Well at any rate we shall ensure fine accommodations and lodging for you as long as you'd like to stay, or at least until our friends here can return you home safely."*

*"Thank you, Sir Pennyworth. Honestly this is the nicest any highborne's treated me in a long time. Kind of didn't think you all were capable of that kind of generosity...meaning no offense."*

*"Most of 'em aren't."* Spoiler interjected with a wry grin. If Alfred was offended, he didn't look it.

*"None taken at all miss. We're just glad you're here."*

*"Pennyworth,"* Damien snapped, sounding impatient. *"Where's Father? I need to speak to him."*

For a moment, the old knight hesitated.

*"Ah, yes. Unfortunately young Master Wayne your father had another rough night last night. His wounds are taking quite a bit longer to heal than we'd hoped. All the same, I'm sure I can find a way to rouse him from his bed some time this evening. Give me a few hours, and we'll gather; I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear of your success when he wakes up."*

The rest of the party looked at each other with uncomfortable, almost suspicious expressions. What kind of night owl was Bruce Wayne, that he was almost never feeling well until way past nightfall? No one said anything though; if they got what they needed out of the master of the house, it really didn't matter.

+++++++++++++++

The party went their own separate ways during the intervening hours; Verena was given fine accomodations and her own quarters to rest and heal up after her ordeal. There weren't many servants of Wayne Castle, but the ones who remained were dedicated and attentive. Kate found her way out of the central keep and walked the grounds of the island, restlessly wondering how Questor was doing, worrying about getting back to the city. From the mostly untamed land around the castle she could see Gotham's spires and rooftops looming just across the river, lights blazing in every window, the city still bustling, even as the sun began to fall. It looked incredibly menacing from here, like a great beast that was slowly inching it's way across the water towards them. Dame Kane could appreciate why the ancient Lords Wayne had chosen to build their fortress on an island _away_ from the city they'd conquered. It felt like a necessary sanctuary. 

She had found sparse additional infrastructure besides the castle itself; a series of smaller stone buildings housed what remained of the family's stables, their barracks, food stores and other bare essentials, but most of the island was just grass and trees. The only other landmark was a cemetery on a small hill just outside the fortress; a single, looming oak rose from the top of the hill, casting shadows over the markers. 

Inside the castle, Spoiler and Robyn essentially vanished, whether to Stephanie's quarters or to secret their way around the halls and discover it's hidden bounties, no one would have known. They didn't reappear again until near dinner time, when Alfred made the rounds to each adventurer's room and beckoned them down to the Hall. Damien left "breakfast" and followed Alfred away from the rest of the group; where they'd gone remained a mystery as well. That left Barbara, on her own in this unhappy keep, left to find a way to occupy her time until Lord Wayne finally showed his face again. She needed a quiet place to think and to study, and eventually managed to discover the library for herself. It was cavernous; two levels, one floor and one mezzanine, lined with rows of mahogany bookshelves, cast iron and brass railings and sliding ladders, a huge assortment of desks and couches and tables and places to read and study, and four -- _four_ -- hearths, to keep the place warm all year long. The north side of the library was made up entirely of arching ornate windows that stretched from the flore to the cavernous ceiling, giving a startling view of the river, the city and the rolling hills beyond. It was beautiful.

Most everything she found inside the library were classics; myths, treatises, academic texts and tall tales, the best literature in the Empire and beyond. The Waynes must have paid a fortune to have so many books transcribed in this way...they seemed so shabby and listless now, but the castle itself still betrayed a staggering amount of generational wealth. Eventually she resigned to cracking open an ancient history of the elven kingdoms on a comfy sofa by one of the fires, and made her way through several chapters before someone nearby cleared his throat.

*"Sorry to interject,"* a velvet, baritone voice said from off to her left. *"Might I ask what we're enjoying this evening?"*

Barbara looked up and took in a completely new face -- it was obvious whoever this was was an important part of the household; he was tall, with chiseled dark features and an almost shoulder length mane of raven hair. Despite having interrupted her reading he was immediately charming and endearing; his posture was warm and open, and his eyes were piercing, introspective, and mysterious.

*"Again, sorry if I interrupted. My name is Richard. Richard Grayson. Sir Richard Grayson, I think. Technically."*

Barbara smiled and shook her head.

*"No offense at all, Sir Richard."* She turned over the book and described it's title. *"'A history of the elven kingdoms from the second age to the eight century, by Archmage Au'un Valeriea.'"* she said.

*"Wow."* said Richard. *"Is it any good?"*

*"Ugh, not really."* she sighed, tossing the weighty tome aside on the couch. *"If I'm being completely honest, Magister Valeriea is kind of a ponderous drone."*

Richard laughed; it was a warm, pleasant thing, like the sound of coffee first filling up a cup in the morning.

*"Well I'm glad I was able to come and save you."*

*"So what's your role here, Sir Grayson? Are you a servant of Wayne's, or....?"*

*"Ah, I suppose you could say so. Sometimes I feel he seems to see it that way."* Richard laughed. *"Really I think I mostly just spend my time helping him and Alfred. It probably doesn't look it from here, but there's a lot of problems in this city. Lord Wayne and Sir Pennyworth are both doing their best to try to help it."*

Barbara rolled her eyes. *"Aye, so everyone keeps telling me."* she sighed. *"Maybe one of these days the braggadocio will end and someone will actually have the nerve and candor to tell me what you jokers do here all day, 'helping the city'."*

*"Actually, that's why I'm here."* he said. *"I've come to invite you to the Great Hall. Lord Wayne is ready to start sharing."*

++++++++++++

Alfred, Richard, Stephanie, Robyn, Damien, Barbara and Kate were, at long last, all finally reunited in the Great Hall. A fire roared in the great hearth at one end, and once again, everyone was seated around Wayne's large, darkwood table, seated in their highbacked chairs, as if preparing to take part in a great summit of kings. Wayne looked at all times handsome and gaunt as ever, still imposing yet struggling somewhat with whatever it was that ailed him. Still, his demeanor was open and polite. Whatever it was he wanted from them, he seemed genuine about it.

*"Thank you all for returning. And thank you especially for saving the shipmaster's daughter."* he said. *"We've had run-ins with Lord Nigma and his spy network before. I can't really express in words to you how happy I am you were able to liberate another victim from his clutches."*

The party nodded politely, but silently.

*"I spoke to Damien this afternoon. He shared with me your previous discussions. I've come to realize that, by hiding details of our operations from you all, I've placed you at a disadvantage. I asked you to help us, to put your lives on the line to help the city, and in essence, I asked you for your trust. But I didn't share that trust with you in return, and I'm ready to remedy that mistake.

As you all know, a long time ago, Lord Thomas and Lady Martha Wayne, my parents, ruled over this city, just as the line of my ancestors had done before them. When I was very young, they were killed in the streets in front of me. I...reacted poorly. I grew up fairly petulant and miserable. I decided when I came of age, I didn't want anything to do with Gotham City. So I left."*

As he spoke, a shadow of something -- was it sadness? -- passed over Sir Pennyworth's face...but he said nothing.

*"I spent a long time away from this place, traveling the world. I became an adventurer. I thought I could help people best in places of the world that weren't so well off as Gotham, as the Empire. And, I think in some small ways, I might have succeeded."*

This time, Alfred snorted.

*"I think Master Wayne's being a touch modest on that front."* he chided. Bruce smiled.

*"Perhaps. Regardless, the truth is that though I'd sought to run from it, to hide from it, I had a responsibility to the people of Gotham. Once my father was gone and my family deposed, weak men took over control of the city; in the shadows of their weakness, corrupt and powerful men rose to power, taking the place of the order and law that my family had once upheld. The people of Gotham have suffered mightily for it. I now know I owe them a debt I may never repay. To that end, I have spent the last few years working here, on behalf of the people. I've tried, in my small, limited way, to right some of the wrongs they've suffered. To hold the powerful to account. And I've done so under an alias."*

Suspense built. Damien, Pennyworth and Grayson seemed to stiffen in anticipation.

*"The high lords refer to this aliens mockingly, as "the Bat Man". A black armored knight who seems to invoke the old memory of House Wayne, now believed long dead. The common folk have a different name for it -- they call me 'The Dark Knight.'"*

Again, silence followed the announcement. The Dark Knight. _THE_ Dark Knight. Bruce Wayne, famously vapid, wealthy, irresponsible son of a forgotten house, who spent his days frequenting balls and bawdy houses, was secretly an unstoppable agent of justice, harrying the forces of corruption all throughout Gotham for the last five years? It was ridiculous in the extreme.

*"I'm...sorry. Lord Wayne. But...this is...a bit much to swallow, if you'll pardon me saying so."* It was as diplomatic as Kate could possibly manage.

*"Fair enough!"* Bruce replied. *"Allow me to show you."*



The passage to the underground lair was through the east ballroom, where several keys on a great piano moved aside a bookshelf, leading to stone stairs that led them down below the castle and the island itself. The Cave was massive and dark; it was impossible to see the ceiling from where they were, but they could hear the constant flutter and squeaking of bats hurtling all around the space above them. On Barbara's shoulder, Julius seemed to shudder in excitement -- or anticipation? hard to tell -- at the "sight" of so many of his kindred.

Below the castle the Waynes had established a small cross between a hidden fortress and a simple hideout. Several stone works clustered around a rock at the center of the cavern, providing basic lodging and shelter for various facilities, but most of the lair was made up of a series of wood and metal platforms, suspended by massive steel chains that stretched high into the shadows and down into the waters at the bottom of the cave. A waterfall roared off in the distance, loud enough to be a constant presence but not so close as to drown out their conversations. The lair had everything; an enclosed library, which was stocked with academic books and city records rather than literary classics. An alchemical lab, an artificer's workshop, an arcane laboratory. There was a ritual circle and a diviner's table, barracks, armory, drill square and archery targets. Stables (underground stables? Why?), a full forge complete with arcane implements for making magical weapons and armor, and large stocks of food, weapons, and other supplies to wondrous to imagine. 

In the centermost platform was an armor and weapon rack. And sitting upon the rack, in case there was still any possible doubt about what Wayne had told them, was irrefutable proof that he was, in fact, the Dark Knight. A great midnight black suit of armor, made of mythril, crafted by what looked like both elven and dwarven artisans. It included dire bat iconography the Wayne's were known for, was bedecked in magic, and came with a thick black leather utility belt upon which were a number of wondrous items. The helm included a menacing looking grill and visor, and the top rose into a pair of points, simulating the ears of a bat. Next to the suite was a fabulous looking sword with a direbat on it's hilt; it practically quivered with arcane power, and was one of the most magnificent looking pieces of weaponry any of them had ever seen.

*"So you see,"* Bruce said finally. *"There's a reason I haven't been able to see you as often as I'd have liked. I've been...busy."*

----------


## JbeJ275

"Wow." Says Barbara, as she takes in the secret, the visuals of the secret base and the powerful magic seeping out of every spot on the wall. Now that this sort of trust had been placed in her, she slipped off her own mask to better take in her surroundings. Juluis too was allowed to flit up to those bats at the celing, joining the swarm there.

"I'd considered, if you might be involved in sponsoring the dark knight." Said Barbara, with her eyes drifting momentarily to Sir Grayson as she spoke. [COLOR="#0000FF"]"But... you are the man himself. ["/COLOR] Barbara spoke hesitantly even now, as she tried to see how this all slotted together, the two men seemingly so devoid of any commonality revealed to be one and the same. Eventually though it seems she made sense of it, and for the first time since arriving in Wayne manor seemed genuinly glad to be there. 

"Well, now we're all being clear with each other, I want to say it's an honour to be working with you sir, you've been a huge inspiration."

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien, who almost visibly oscillates with I-Told-You-So's but admirably does not voice them, regards his father with patient interest that seems as _anthropological_ as it does _filial_.  Plainly, this hasn't been a secret to him; indeed, it hardly seems to impress him at all.  But however blasé he is about being in such a place, there's no doubt he belongs here - at least more than anywhere else anyone has seen.  He pivots on his heel, and strides across the room to a wall panel snugly fit into the stone; slides it to one side, and retrieves a leather satchel therefrom.  With the same profile as the spellbook Oracle previously rejected, the satchel finds its way over to Oracle for a second time; once offered by the father, now offered by the son.  Once relieved of the burden, with no sass escaping his laconic façade, Damien pivots away again to allow Barbara, Kate and Steph to take in this understanding and pitch inevitable questions.

The boy finds his way across the cave to an upright glass case, containing what might be mistaken for some kind of minstrel's outfit; a boy's panoply of red, yellow and green.  But discerning aficionados of the Dark Knight's legend would know it to be something much more significant; as, apparently, does Damien, who folds his arms behind his back and gazes at the empty uniform with meditative intensity.

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Made an assumption that those things would be re-offered, and seized the day, Molan.  Let me know if I overstepped!

----------


## Molan

Bruce's demeanor remained humble, almost contrite.

*"It's a pleasure to finally work directly with you, Lady Gordon. I know I've said so already but I truly am sorry for any deception. I chose to keep the Direbat Sigil my father and his father had flown over this city as a symbol of hope for the people of Gotham. But doing so was..."*

*"You could say, a bit foolhardy."* Alfred needled.

*"A bit, yes."* Bruce said with a grin. *"After I started going after some of the seediest and most abusive practices in this city I was dragged in front of the high lords of Gotham. They noticed the timing of my return and the arrival of the Dark Knight coincided a bit too closely. I had to put on quite a façade in order to placate them. Hence, the parties and the debauchery and what have you. Eventually they stopped seeing me as a threat, and started to look suspiciously at one another again. No one thought I could be the Dark Knight, and I tried hard to keep it that way."*

He walked over to were Sir Grayson was standing, and put a hand on his shoulder.

*"For a long time, it was just Alfred and I who knew...eventually, we needed Lord Fox's help and he began to assist us in whatever limited ways he could. His influence in the city was dwindling even then, but he still had some. Richard was my first squire; after we defeated the League of Shadows he helped me put away Baron Zucco and thwarted an illegal underground arcana ring the Cobblepotts were running. I was never able to bring them down fully, but denting their operations bought a lot of people a lot of time and breathing room, and the Cobblepotts tore after some of their other rivals, looking for someone to blame."*

Then he walked over to Damien.

*"Richard's strong and old enough to stand on his own now. Out in Gotham, he's known only as "The Nightwing".* Bruce placed a hand on Damien's shoulder, as if reintroducing him to the very party he'd been a member of all this time. *"Damien's my new squire, now. In Gotham they know his alter ego only as "The Robin." He's young, sure, but hopefully you've all seen by now where his talents and abilities lie."*

The four grown women, even if slightly chagrined, all nodded in agreement. At this point, how could they not?

*"Together, we've all done what we could to try to protect...well, not so much the city. But the people of the city. And I'll admit we've had some successes."*

Instead of seeming pleased with himself, Bruce's demeanor turned dark.

*"But the hour is growing grim indeed. The threats facing our city have grown, not shrank. I tried calling upon some of my old adventuring companions, from my earlier days. But for now, they are beyond our reach -- they're too busy defending other peoples, fighting other wars. We need reinforcements."*

*"And that's where you ladies come in,"* Richard concluded, the charming grin still crossing his face. *"We thought if we could help you complete your quests, you might be able and willing to help us finish ours."*

*"Namely,"* Pennyworth concluded. *"Tracking down that bloody cypher, and destroying that pestilential monster."*

----------


## Feathersnow

Cousin Bruce!  _You're_ the Dark Knight!?  I've tried to follow your example,  but I never thought it was someone I knew! I'd hug you, but, you know, the spikes and all...

The demeanor of the Batwoman, usually cool and calm to the point of insanity, breaks as her inner fangirl burst through fir an instant. 

I must ask though, can you help me get my poleaxe enchanted?  Military pensions only go so far, and the rest of House Kane only gives me such a big allowance

----------


## Molan

> Cousin Bruce!  _You're_ the Dark Knight!?  I've tried to follow your example,  but I never thought it was someone I knew! I'd hug you, but, you know, the spikes and all...
> 
> The demeanor of the Batwoman, usually cool and calm to the point of insanity, breaks as her inner fangirl burst through fir an instant. 
> 
> I must ask though, can you help me get my poleaxe enchanted?  Military pensions only go so far, and the rest of House Kane only gives me such a big allowance


Bruce smiled wide. He had a strange manner about him -- as though he was surprised by how happy he was to recover Kate's enthusiasm at all.

*That, I think we can help you with cousin. Come here, let me show you something."*

He led her away from the main platform, and down to a large plinth that rose up after of the black water in the bottom of the cave. It was large, and spacious, but largely empty, at least at the moment. Kate squinted, feeling she noticed something strange about the platform, before it hit her -- the entire column was made not out of the rock of the cave but a pure pillar of psionic crystal -- the same kind Raam's great scimitar had been made out of.

*"The enchanting lab on the other side of this chamber is made for arcanists. I didn't have access to any proper psions when I built this place, given their...legally questionable status. But I was able to get my hands on the crystal needed to start building a psionic enchanting beacon. What I *really* need though is Deep Crystal... probably at least 60lbs of it. I can give you money to buy it if you know anyone in the city who might be packing, but once it's built we can provide whatever kinds of psionic enhancements you need. If we need to do any arcane enchanting, that we already have the facilities for. What do you think, do you know anyone who might have any Deep Crystal?"*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara quietly takes the satchel with an appreciative nod towards Damien, quietly tucking it away. Then she takes just a second to breathe, and calm herself down once more. She _could not_ be seen fangirling in a metting like this one, instead she went back over the lists of what she'd need to operate better going forward. 

"We could do with bettter communications as well, especially over long distances. Farspeaking items would be valuble, and a good source for scrolls would as well, I'd intended to have more time to scribe them myself but with how things are going I'm barely able to keep up with my own arcane research. As for my own missions.... I was hoping for political favours, neccesary for making some attempts to break the corruption in the justicars stick, but I suppose I can understand that it's not feasable to take everyone else in the city on in that arena. 

As for your own mission, I've been looking into the same therugic principles that operate within the internal arcane matrices of the codex, and have applied thoe principles to my own research. I'm working on a piece of divine derived arcana that can access competency and knowledge from extraplanar pseudo divine sources. It has potential in coming to a greater understanding of the codex, and potentially aiding in indentifying the nature of the cypher.

----------


## Molan

> Barbara quietly takes the satchel with an appreciative nod towards Damien, quietly tucking it away. Then she takes just a second to breathe, and calm herself down once more. She _could not_ be seen fangirling in a metting like this one, instead she went back over the lists of what she'd need to operate better going forward. 
> 
> "We could do with bettter communications as well, especially over long distances. Farspeaking items would be valuble, and a good source for scrolls would as well, I'd intended to have more time to scribe them myself but with how things are going I'm barely able to keep up with my own arcane research. As for my own missions.... I was hoping for political favours, neccesary for making some attempts to break the corruption in the justicars stick, but I suppose I can understand that it's not feasable to take everyone else in the city on in that arena. 
> 
> As for your own mission, I've been looking into the same therugic principles that operate within the internal arcane matrices of the codex, and have applied thoe principles to my own research. I'm working on a piece of divine derived arcana that can access competency and knowledge from extraplanar pseudo divine sources. It has potential in coming to a greater understanding of the codex, and potentially aiding in indentifying the nature of the cypher.


Bruce winced, at least at first.

*"Yea, political favors are one thing we're running a bit short on, around here."* he admitted. *"But we'll never cure what ails the city if we can't cure the Justicars."*

*"I might be able to help with that."* Richard added. *"Not too long ago I happened to pay the gnomes at House Tetch a visit."*

*"Wasn't that the 'visit' where they almost killed you?"* Damien needled.

*"Eh, imprisoned forever really, 'killed' makes it sound too dramatic. Anyway, I got out, and I managed to put the squeeze on Lord Tetch's principle attaché. Unfortunately, she couldn't really tell me what I wanted to hear."*

Barbara guessed where he was going before he got there.

*"You were hoping the Tetch's would know how to find the Cypher."*

Richard grinned wide.

*"I was hoping the Tetch's would know how to find the Cypher."* he nodded. *"Alas, that lead was a dead end. But in the process I did learn something interesting -- Lord Tetch keeps more than a few Justicar Bloodhounds on payroll in midtown to ensure that none of his own illicit shenanigans get brought to light."*

*"Great."* she sighed. *"More corrupt Justicars. How does that help?"*

*"It helps, because they're a handful of lazy, fatuous oafs, and the lot of them owe enough money to the Tetch's and the Thieves Guild to rival the Imperial Treasury. What I'm saying is, they're weak. I can tip you off to some names, and if you can catch one, he or she would probably start rolling on other Justicars, at least in Midtown. I figure if Lord Gordon can at least lock down one island, that's a start, right?"*

Barbara had to hand it to him -- as far as plans went, it wasn't _the worst_ one she'd heard.

*"If you can corner and expose any of the midtown ringleaders--"*

*"Bullock."* She said through gritted teeth. *"I wanna snag Bullock."*

*"Perfect. If we can catch him doing something plainly illegal, get him and maybe a few of his lieutenants thrown underneath Blackgate, that'd probably get the ball rolling in the right direction."*

Barbara smiled. *"Alright, Sir Grayson. Color me intrigued, let's give it a shot. And thank you, both of you, for your help."*

*"We can do a bit more than that."* Bruce added. *"Alfred, if you don't mind, can you show Lady Gordon to the arcana lab? We've got more than a few items in there that ought to be of use."*

Alfred smiled. There was a strange look in his eyes, was it pride? He looked upon the gathering like a father who's children had just come home, even though most of them didn't know each other before all of this.

*"Right away Master Bruce. Come this way, if you might my lady."*

Barbara followed Alfred to the lab, where he revealed some of their resources.

*"Frankly, Master Bruce and Sir Richard don't do a lot with Arcane magic...young Damien doesn't really bother with it much either. They're all very fond of their fancy footwork and beating shady Gotham villains to a pulp the old fashioned way, if you catch my meaning."*

Barbara nodded. She'd heard the stories. And she had caught a glimps of Bruce's sword.

*"Still, we need magic and tools just like everyone else. What I have here for you is our scroll collection."*

He pulled on a chain that dragged out a section of the lab's library wall, revealing a large vertical section of "shelving", which was really a metal matrix with spots reserved to hold up packs of transcribed spells onto parchment. A wall of spell scrolls, as it were.

*"Now, by my count, we've got about eight of these sending scrolls pre-prepared. But, I don't know if you'll need them as much with these."*

He walked over to a writing desk drawer and opened it, revealing a series of stones, radiating evocation magic, each one marked with a differently shaped mouth.

*"These little beauties are sending stones. They work like the scrolls but you can reuse them once a day. Thing is, each of them come in a matched pair."* he picked up one such pair to demonstrate. *"The sending spell within can only be sent between the pair, and once the spell is cast for that day it's spent. Useful, but not a silver bullet, if you have to communicate a lot while you're separated."*

Back at the scroll wall, he rifled through a bit further.

*"Now, I've got three scrolls of telepathic bond here. These are nice -- but we'd probably need to scribe more if we're going to be doing that quite a lot. We can help though; this lab can cut the inscription cost down in half, if you decide to start producing more. You'll be able to finish scribing them faster down here, too. So, that's something."*

Finally, he walked over to a wrack covered in strange magical devices, each of them hanging from a stylized onyx hook, just outside.

*"That all being said...there is one tool that I think will really do the trick -- this is the holy grail of distance teamwork."* His hands danced over the charmed necklace before him.

*"Do you know what this is?"* Oracle shook her head; she'd never seen anything like it before.

*"This is called a Farspeaking Amulet. Well, it's half of one, anyway."* The chain bore a large green crystal in it's center. There were spots dangling down from it where four other charms clearly belonged, but they were missing.

*"There is a miscreant, out there in our fine city, who is known by a colloquialism, "The Cat", or "Catwoman", some people refer to her. But those are derogatory names; her preferred title from her admirers is "Lady Kyle". She's wanted by most nobles in the city, said to be one of the greatest thieves of all time. That's made her enemies with a lot of criminal gangs too, to boot."*

*"Did...did Lady Kyle...rob you guys!?"* Oracle exclaimed. Alfred just smiled.

*"Bit more complicated then all that -- this amulet was originally being auctioned off at a Mage College charity gala that Lord Wayne had decided to throw...trying to lure out a completely different criminal at the time, if you can believe it."*

*"Who was the target of the trap, then?"* she asked, feeling uneasy.

*"A very unpleasant fellow, known to us only as 'The Jester'."* Alfred said darkly.

Barbara's frown deepened. She'd heard stories about _him_, too.

*"Not to worry now. That old nightmare is locked up safely in a led lined cell in the Witch's Asylum now. The trap didn't work, anyway. The gala was disrupted for...other reasons. Regardless, Lady Kyle swooped in afterwards and made off with quite a lot in the way of jewels. She nicked the charms off of this Farspeaking Amulet, but left the rest of the medallion intact. Don't ask me why; it seemed to be a spot of fun for her, I think. Regardless, Master Bruce appeared more amused than anything by the heist -- he didn't care much for all the jewels anyway, those were mostly just Jesterbait. He took the Amulet back here, to the cave, I think because he hoped he might one day retrieve those charms, and restore it."*

*"Wouldn't Lady Kyle have fenced them by now?"* she wondered aloud.

*"It's possible, but for some reason, I doubt it. If she was going to fence them she should have stolen the whole amulet, not just the charms. It's communication magic only works if you have both. And like I said, I think she saw the petty theft as a bit of fun. She's run into Master Bruce on the streets more than a few times, and she's incredibly unlawful, but she's not done much to hurt the common folk of Gotham, just the nobles. In fact, she's seen by many as almost a kind of benefactor. So, maybe I'm just getting to be sentimental in my old age, but I think she still has them. If you can track those down, you'll have a way to communicate with your allies that's virtually unsurpassed. Virtually."*

*"Interesting..."* Barbara said as she pondered. Idly, her gaze turned back towards the group on the main platform, and to Robyn and Stephanie in particular.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Fox has my list."

Damien appends, finally pivoting away from the case with the colorful uniform and its hollow domino gazing back at his father.

"My list of needed items.  But if the arsenal here is up and running again, I'll be satisfied to fortify my sword with an enchantment. 
 I grieve having to use these pilfered, oversized trophy-weapons.  We'll need specialized weaponry to engage the monstrosity when the time comes, as well; but I would recommend reaching out to the Inquisitors again.  Azrael has seen the creature in action; it is possible his people can lend specialists to the confrontation.  But it sounds like we won't be ready to crack that cypher until we collapse Tetch's schemes.  What did you encounter against him, Grayson?  How should we prepare?"

----------


## Molan

Alfred examined the sword, frowning.

*"I've got to be honest with you, Master Damien. I don't think this is the caliber of equipment you ought to be galivanting around with."*

He swung it through the air several times, eliciting it's angry, hissing crackles and sparks as it cut through the dark of the cave.

*"It's functional enough, but the enchantments on these things are sloppy to say the least. All juice, no finesse. This is black market weaponry, make no mistake. If you need help modifying it, we might be able to do a little. But I'd just as soon break this thing down for the arcana and start from scratch. We're not made of money and resources here, but we could probably manage customizing you a similar weapon, if you're truly in the market."*

Richard chuckled, as though his experiences with House Tetch had been a mere inconvenience. But there was an unease in his mannerisms.

"*Short version is, the Tetch's control the Highborne Bank. They cater only to the city's superwealthy. It's the only place to go if you're incredibly rich but don't trust dwarves, more or less. We figured out that they were using their position to run layered extorsion schemes on a number of key players in the black magic market. Normally, that's just criminals preying on criminals, not our concern. But a contact of mine in Bludhaven suggested they may have a lead on the Cypher. Turns out that was a dead end. But what I *did* find out is that the Heir Apparent to the House, Jervis Tetch, is an incredibly dangerous Enchanter. He's got more than a few illusionists on payroll...together, they can turn your mind into mush.*"

Damien's eyes widened, and for a brief moment, he was just a boy again.

*"How did you get out?"*

*"I went prepared."* was Grayson's quick reply. *"And I was able to see through the enchantments with extreme self discipline. I'd be careful if I was you all...besting their enchantments was no easy feat."*

----------


## JbeJ275

*"Thank you, sir Pennyworth. I'll see what can be done regarding the amulet's charms. I think my poor familiar is getting tired of playing messenger, so they'd be of much use. I think the sending stones will best serve the needed function of regular communication for now though."*

After doing her best to arrange that and coming to any neccesary arrangements she moves to join the other discussion.

*"Hmm, I might be able to bypass, or at least forward us of, some of those tricks and traps with my own divinations, and enchantments in general can be abjured aggainst. Though we'll need to watch for those trying to dispel the defences. Otherwise it seems reasonable to begin investigating Tetch."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien frowns thoughtfully, and thumbs at his chin as if he had stubble with texture worth thumbing.

"I wonder if the gambling den I skulked through on South Channel Island was connected to Tetch.  Best I could gather,  the point of it was to lure in wealthy and foolish patrons for ... something other than simple coin-gain.  Possibly information fetching?  I noted the servers seemed dull eyed and disengaged, as if compelled and empty-headed.  Grayson - does Tetch have a lieutenant, as best you know, who might happen to be an elf with outlandishly green, long hair?"

----------


## Molan

Richard frowned, rubbing his chin.

*"Hmmm...an elf? No, no way. The elves don't like the Tetch's, and vice versa -- lot of bad blood and power struggles between the Elves and the Gnomes at the Mage's College. The Nigmas are the only elves who have anything in common with them, but they don't like each other either -- they're rivals, you see. For a while they were all hoping Bruce would finally get what he needed to put Lord Cobblepott away for good and then they could ascend to run the Banker Houses. They're all at each others' throats."*

But Richard thought a little bit more, pondering what Damien had said.

*"That being said...if you're dealing with Tetch, you have to watch out for worse than just elves. The gnomes think a lot differently than we do...they're not as...squeemish, about certain things. They'd entertain alliances an elf never would."*

*"What do you mean?"*

*"Well, for example, the last time I'd visited Tetch Hall, they had a beholder guarding their treasure vault."* The party's eyes widened, but Richard only smiled. *"And it wasn't enchanted either...they had a mutual working relationship."*

*"You're saying the Tetch's make allies with aberrations?"* Barbara balked.

*"Sometimes. I'm saying the Tetch's will make allies with all kinds of deeply unsavory people. More than that, they're incredibly adept with using mind-bending forms of magic to get their way. Damien, you'd said that some of the people in the tent were sort of...blank eyed?"*

Damien nodded.

*"Is it possible that there was some illusory or other magic at work in the gambling tent? Something you missed? Maybe we're not looking for a green-haired elf after all."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"There is every chance.  I've no equipment to pierce illusions, and an elven guise is the most natural deception to create a temporary den amidst an elven carnival.  If the elves are an enemy of Tetch, it makes even more sense that he would have a presence there.  But it's gone now; nothing to be made of it other than caution.  When you're feeling fully recovered, Gordon, we'll begin our sting on Bullock.  In the time between, there are some purchases to make and other errands.  Brown -"

He looks to Steph, apparently presuming to refer to her in this way, now.

"Would you assist me, for a moment?"

With that, he leads off towards one far fringe of the cave - a dark wood bench, low set to accommodate a short user, and sets his pilfered spider egg down amidst beakers, and burners, and various less than savoury chemical samples.

----------


## Molan

Stephanie and Robyn followed him to the lab, looking curiously and cautiously, respectively, over Damien's shoulder.

*"What're you doing with that?"* Stephanie asked slowly.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"What is necessary."

_What is necessary_, apparently, is awful.  He places the egg on a glass plate which, under-lit with a light spell, reveals the curled, immature spider within the thin egg membrane.  Damien - this ten year old - rotates and inspects the egg with great scrutiny, then selects from a toolshelf a syringe with a long, silver needle.  He sterilizes it in a beaker of alcohol, fills, then empties it of a clear saline fluid; then carefully inserts the needle through the egg membrane into the embryonic arthropod within.  It flexes restlessly as he draws back the plunger enough to draw perhaps a teaspoon of milky white fluid from the careful insertion into a venom gland.  This, in its entirety, he dispenses into a ceramic bowl and dilutes with the saline solution.  Then, simply, he produces a vial of anti-toxin, and offers it to Steph's taking.  "Here.  If I black out, administer this."

----------


## Molan

United together with renewed purpose, and a shared, forbidden knowledge of what was perhaps Gotham's greatest secret -- that Bruce Wayne, heir to the ancient House of Wayne, was secretly the Dark Knight -- the party rested again before heading out once more into Gotham in pursuit of their mission.

Oracle headed to the closest Mage's College outpost in Midtown, armed with her license and Damien's shopping list. The license level she held still marked up the items by 50%, but she was at least able to secure them for him.

Spoiler hightailed it towards the Narrows after the party split up at the Merchant's Guild docks, Robyn in tow. She was hoping to make contact with her "friends" in the narrows to see what kind of information she could dig up before they hit the Tetch's. 

Kate followed Barbara on her shopping trip, before the two of them took an arcane rail back towards the Temple of St. Cuthbert, where Kate knew Questor would be waiting. The plan was to get Barbara restored, then everyone would congregate near Tetch Hall that night, in preparation for their raid.

But when they got to the Temple Square, it was immediately obvious that something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. The area around the temple was cordoned off by what had to be an entire regiment of Justicars, perhaps nearly as many as 200 or so. Multiple armored war wagons with Justicar regalia were circled nearby, with _lanterns of dancing lights_ equipped on them to give off a series of blue and red strobes, warning the peasants to stay away. Kate felt as though there was a boulder in the pit of her stomach, and the two of them dashed towards the cordon, before being encountered by two Lawmen knights and a Bloodhound. Barbara recognized the man instantly -- he was one of Bullock's.

*"Stay back ladies, this is a Justicar controlled crime scene."* the Bloodhound hissed through puffs of his cigar.

Oracle drew back her hood, revealing her face.

*"Beat it, officer, or just take me to my father now."*

The look of surprise on the Bloodhound's face was fairly amusing. Oracle hadn't been wearing her adventuring gear, so outside of having covered her red locks with a hood there was nothing tying the face of Barbara Gordon to her alter ego. Still, the Hound clearly hadn't expected the Lord Marshall's daughter to arrive at a random crime scene. He ought to have been grateful though; Kate looked about ready to give him a long, agonizing embrace if the Justicars hadn't moved out of their way.

They were allowed through the cordon, and past the war wagons they were able to see the front of the Temple of St. Cuthbert. The front doors had been blown wide open, and still smoldering debris littered the square. In addition to damage to the facade, the emblem of St. Cuthbert over the great door had been smashed, and was sitting in twisted steel just off to the side on the ground. 

*"The hell happened here!?"* Kate fumed.

*"Looks like some gangland hit, somebody had a beef with the clergy, I guess. Kidnapped some of the clerics inside."* a nearby Guardsman replied.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate tries not to reveal too much. But it was obvious what happened and that she was indirectly responsible. _And her beloved was in danger in durance vile!_

House Kane has long been a Patron of the Questor Order. I like to think their rehabilitation program has been a benefit to keeping peace in this city.  Please allow me and mine to assist in any way you feel appropriate.

Inwardly, she thought.  _I am sending whoever did this to answer to my father!  And all that high thought about pacificism can go with them to the same place!_

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara walks over to the crime scene, letting her awareness seep out and knowledge of any magical residue of the attack seep back in. At the same time she unleashes a more active twist of magic to spontanously search the entire area for any hints of how exactly this was done. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Using background detect magic and casting spontanous search for 26 on search.



She then tries to identify the site lead, and makes to approach them and ID whether they're going to be corrupt.

----------


## Molan

The site lead was a Bloodhound named Melig; she was a no-nonsense half-elf who'd worked for Barbara's father for as long as she could remember. Though she'd been offered higher stations more than a few times, she'd always turned it down. She'd grown up poor, and she had always had a special affinity for the people of the streets of gotham. Still, she looked worse for wear; her hair had long ago begun to gray wand was tied back in only a few loose braids. Her left ear was mostly missing, and accompanied by scars running down her face. Barbara had never gotten the full story of what'd happened there.

Oracle approached, hoping to generate some rapport. As she did so, evidence began to pour into her senses; the street was grimy; several sets of footprints had milled around the church before the justicars showed up. At least two pairs of heels had dragged along the cobble stones to a carriage, which'd headed south. The door was breached with some sort of run-of-the-mill alchemical potion; whiffs of evocation. Subtle.

Melig was speaking calmly and quietly to one of the noble Lawmen in her unit, passing along instructions about keeping onlookers at bay. In spite of his station, the highborne human fighter nodded gravely and devoutly; Melig had a following.

*"Yes m'lady. On it at once."*

*"Hopefully you won't keep too many onlookers away, Bloodhound."* Barbara said sheepishly, trying to sound friendly. When Melig turned and saw her and the imposing, spike-covered figure of Kate standing behind her, her eyes widened, but only for a moment.

Behind them, the bloodhound Barbara had identified as one of Bollock's lurked, but strangely, he didn't intervene or object to Melig about them being there. Instead he stayed just enough paces back to overhear without being completely blatant. Melig spared him the briefest of acidic glances before ignoring him and training her eyes on Barbara and Kate. In that moment, the relationship between the two bloodhounds seemed to crystalize. 

*"Oh I don't know, perhaps we can let a few stragglers through. If you're looking for your father though, I'm afraid he's absent."*

*"No no,"* Barbara shook her head. *"No official business. We were just coming by to visit a friend, and noticed the commotion. My companion here knows one of the clergy. Melig...is everyone alright?"*

The half-elf wearily shook her head, with the look of stoic resignation that came from decades of trying to solve crimes in one of the Empire's most unmanageable cities. 

*"'Fraid I can't say, m'lady. They left a few of the clerics alone, killed the only night shift guard, left alone most of the initiates. Looks like we're missing a cleric or two though, I've got to be honest with you."*

Barbara grit her teeth, sure she likely knew the answer.

*"Any chance we know who did it?"* she asked deferentially. She didn't want to agitate the Bloodhound by implying she'd encroached on her job and jurisdiction.

But Melig just smiled.

*"Don't have to guess m'lady. Whatever happened here, someone in the church must have pissed off gangland something fierce."* she produced soemthing from her long coat, and handed it to Barbara.

It was a playing card -- an ace of spades -- with a crudely drawn skull in the center.

*"One or more of the priests of St. Cuthbert ran afoul of the Market. We found that on the body of the guard. You don't happen to have any idea why they'd be angry at the Church, do you, lady Gordon?"*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara quickly stopped the questioning look she had previously been shooting at Kate, as Melig turned back to her. She wanted to play this cagey, to actually help Melig without giving the game away to those bloodhounds in the pockets of the criminal element. Instead it was eassier to speak in vague terms and confirm anything about Kate's 'friend' and whether they could have found him through her later. Though checking what the good people in the watch think of her grop' activities so far could alsso be helpful. 

"It well might have something to with some recent mercenary activity, I heard from Brenford and Harold that there was some disturbance with a ship on the docks a few nights ago, and more news keeps coming in on them. They're being paid by someone, and the church moves a lot of money. You had the chance to ask the rest of the clerics if any repeat visitors have been coming by recently?

Other considerations were racing through her mind though. 

_Doesn't seem like a ransom job or a robbery gone wrong though, no reason to take so few people if it was cash returns. Probably taking someone to make a point, those scuffs. That's two pair of boots dragging in, maybe some signs of a scuffle, that could mean the target knew there was a dnager to them, often those who don't will be rendered to shocked to fight back, at least momentarily
_

----------


## Molan

The Bloodhound arched an eyebrow, a wry smile almost crossing her face, except that it didn't look quite possible.

*"Sure, we interviewed the clergy. And there was someone they'd seen tramping around here."*

She seemed to nod, looking over Barbara's shoulder, before gesturing directly at Kate.

*"Her. Lots of mentions of one of the monk's armored, female friend."*

But, before Barbara could answer more about Kate's presence at the temple, Melig pressed on.

*"But all told it's interesting that you mentioned the docks. We'd heard something about that. The gangs've gotten all kind of agitated since the violence at the Merchant's wharf. We've had violence cropping up between the Thieves, the Market and a few other...organizations...ever since that fracas. You heard anything about that? The Inquisition supposedly picked up Raam during the fight."*

It was, of course, a loaded question. There was no way Melig hadn't heard that Barbara herself had summoned the Justicars to the docks after Raam and his crew had been beaten.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Its at that point, from another direction entirely, that a commotion, a kerfuffle, draws attention from some number of the assembled lawmen.  Flagrantly violating the cordon of astounded officers, the young scion of house Wayne charges up the steps toward the temple threshold.  He does so with the precise, stylish, oblivious disdain one expects of such a person; high in the saddle of the big black riding dog, deaf to the objections of anyone with the rank of less than lieutenant who is not directly, physically barring his way.  But the conversation between Barbara, Kate and the detective corks the stairs past which the child seems intent on ascending; and he is forced to stop.

Clear the way, law-woman.  Im to hunt this evening, and I need my blessings.  What is this fuss, and folly?

*Spoiler*
Show

A take 10 for 19 bluff, for the perhaps believable opening farce of the blundering entitled noble.

----------


## Molan

*"The temples are closed....m'lord."* The half elf replied, looking some mixed of confused, bemused and annoyed.  *"With all due respect, you ought to stay behind the Justicar cordon. A crime's been committed here. It's not safe."*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara looked to Damein which annoyance, some real, some feigned. Then quietly turned and spoke again to Melig.

"I'll tell you more about that in better company, and safer places. Where over-eager young lords can't come blundering up, if you're free in a few days, maybe a week or so I'll arrange a file for then. Right now let me just check in a little further."

With that she slinked inside, hoping to get eyes on the crime scene itself. At the same time she turned to Kate, and threw a comment her way.

"So, any insights into who had cause to do this? And just how involved was your friend with this side of things? Any traceable contact between you and them? Any thing he might have done to leave a message for you if he was suddenly at risk?"

----------


## MrAbdiel

A crime! Damien squeaks, eyes flashing with interest.  Exceptional. Lets have a look then, before the trail gets cold!  The game is afoot!  He seems oblivious to Barbaras slights - soaring in a world of his own privileged imagination with his toes only dragging in the water of reality.

And then hes steering Titus towards the archway, provoking Melig and any other justicars immediately nearby to need to physically block and obstruct.

----------


## Feathersnow

She. And no.  I was always there one in danger!  Who would hurt her, except to get to me! Kate, usually unflappable,  is nearly crying.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Don't worry, whoever did this just made a couple of powerfl enemies, we'll make sure they end up regeting it. But any details as to who this lady is, and how she normally operated could be key to help us do that as quickly as possible."

----------


## Molan

Flustered, Melig and her attending Justicars suddenly scrambled to stop Damien and his large dog from bounding through their cordon.

*"M'lord...M'lord!"* she shouted angrily.

Barbara gritted her teeth, and grabbed Kate by the arm.

*"C'mon,"* she said. *"We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."*

They rushed inside the blasted open temple, and could see the makings of what had almost looked like a fight had taken place inside. Barbara's magically attuned senses were in overdrive; she felt a sense of panicked urgency seeing Kate begin to break down so uncharacteristically. Here, she saw the body of the night guard -- killed when the blast had splintered the door, sending a shard of wood through his back.

There, she saw the body of a Paladin of St. Cuthbert -- must have been here praying during the attack. There were blood spatters all around his body; not all of it was his. Clearly the goons were expecting less resistance than they found. The paladin had been stabbed multiple times and eventually soemone cut his throat. Another priest's body was nearby, stabbed through the chest.

_Think...think....we need better intel._

More footprints, some caked in dirt, others in blood. More broken furniture. Then, eventually...

Near the altar in the back of the temple, the battle seemed to stop. There was no mad rush of footprints or blood spatters. One pair of prints had approached the altar...and...if the broken pew nearby was any indication, had been knocked on his ass.

*"Did Questor know how to protect herself?"* Barbara asked idly. Kate could only manage to nod.

But no one else had approached the altar...apparently, the first thug getting his rear handed to him had sent the message. 

*"They must have negotiated."* she concluded.

*"What?"*

*"The fight, it stopped here. One attacker approached the altar and got laid out. The others stayed back. They must have talked to whoever was here."*

Barbara's mind began racing. 

*"She knew she didn't have any chance at beating them...there were too many. So she stalled for time? Not sure. But she definitely left willingly."*

*"I thought you said there were two people dragged out of here."*

*"There were,"* Barbara nodded, investigating the scene closely. *"She walked from her own volition from the altar...light footed, that one is...and met the thugs here...they must have knocked her out once she surrendered. You can see the marks her heals make starting near the pack."*

*"And the second pair of feet?"*

*"This poor bastard."* Barbara said, gesturing towards where the thug had been violently introduced to the church pew. *This wasn't a bloodless raid. The attackers got torn up, first by the paladin, then by our mysterious friend from the altar. But they made sure all their people got out. Not sure why that is, but they didn't leave anyone behind. Second pair of dragged heals were the unconscious thug."*

Acting on a hunch, Barbara approached the altar. Laid over top of it was as simple, long, gray cloth, and only a single iron sigil of St. Cuthbert sitting on top of it, almost left as an afterthought. Barbara lifted up the tapestry, and beneath it was a single scrap of paper.

The paper listed three symbols, in order: a Spade, a Down Arrow, and what could only be an ugly, fat, flightless bird, drawn hastily. An approximation of the sigil of one of the most powerful Houses in Gotham.

*"Dark Market, aka Baron Zucco. Downtown. Working for the Penguin."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Take 10's for intelligence and your basic search skills / magic to get through most of the investigation.

----------


## JbeJ275

"I think you're friend managed to leave instructions to help in her own rescue. I'll leave this a little more disturbed so the justicars can get to it, but showing it directly to Melig would be way to observable. She's smart enough to not spread something like this to the wrong people too quickly, but the Downtown justicars have enough corrupt agents in thier raanks to slow her down, slow her down way too much. We'll need to handle this ourselves."

Intrnally, Barbara was thinking on the justicar reports and other news that she'd come across from downtown, in particular the old and well thumbed report surrounding Baron Zucco's capture by the dark knight, and subsequent interrogations and trials, before being freed by influence that seemed to backed by the exchange wealth Cobblepot controlled.

Knowledge (Local): (1d20+12)[*24*]
Knowledge (Nobility): (1d20+12)[*18*]


"Let's link back up with Damien, he can probably check out these places unseen better than either of us, and his father is bound to have some files on Zucco, he already took the man down once."

----------


## MrAbdiel

A few blocks away, Damien links up with Kate and Barbara, on a helpfully isolated rooftop while Titus guards below.

"Vexing.  Very vexing.  We knew this was in motion; but not at all this quickly."  The scion produces from one pocket in his smart town attire a familiar, folded note in bad handwriting - the one they lifted from the Dark Market operative they thumped on South Channel Island.

*Spoiler: The Note, if you recall.*
Show

"Three women
- one of them's a crossbreed, maybe part demon
- possibly nobles
- one's a mage

We're checking the temple of St. Cuthbert in Midtown. The half-blood is easy to track. Just make sure they don't show up on SCI.

Someone's looking into the Waynes"


"Unfortunately for them, we _did_ show up on South Channel Island.  I'm beginning to wonder if we should have just killed them after all."  He casts a thoughtful glare back towards the looming, distant silhouette of Wayne Castle.  "We have an identity issue, Kane.  There just aren't that many women with fiendish blood in them; and there can be less still with your _particular_ pedigree.  The man we interrogated had no idea what the connection with the temple of St Cuthbert was - that tells us that someone higher up, perhaps Zucco, knew enough to know that perhaps the most public fiendblood was affiliated with a cleric there.  Kate Kane would be a logical choice to suspect, or at least eliminate from running, if seeking the identity of the Batwoman.  Likely, he has taken your companion to attempt to extract from her that confirmation - and then to blackmail you into exposing the rest of the 'mercenaries'.  And they've also surmised that the Wayne estate is funding these operations - a conclusion they might have drawn based on the reputation of the Wayne family, bolstered by the suspicion that House Kane might be involved in the vigilantism."

Damien begins to pace.  In the noble attire, he looks like the kind of caricature of a real self-important general that might be cast in a slanderous play - deathly serious, heavy browed with intensity; but still, inextricably, a child.

"This has rapidly become highest priority.  Our tasks are threefold, as I see them.

First - we must track and extricate  Kane's companion.  That is going to involve running afoul of the Penguin and the Dark Market, unavoidably.  That, of course, is the main task."

"Second, we must find a way to deflect suspicion that Kate Kane is the Batwoman, or this will happen again and again.  That is going to require..."  He pauses, and purses his lips; his prematurely machiavellian mind blazing away behind his grey eyes like a furnace of cunning and strategy, "...Sacrifice.  Spoiler, or rather _Brown_ is the only one of us that can pull it off.  But once we rescue your friend, Kane, I suggest we send her away from Gotham for a while.  It will be expected after such an ordeal.  If Brown goes with her, she can use her knowledge of disguise and subterfuge to pose as Kate Kane, perhaps augmented with some glamours her own companion provides.  If _what's left_ of the Dark Market after we get through with them is able to report that Kate Kane and her cleric companion have fled town, while reports of the Batwoman continue to pour in, they will have to draw the conclusion that Kate Kane is not the Batwoman and therefore not worth their effort.  That will buy us time to keep at them, until we shut them down completely, hopefully squashing this unfortunately competant effort to discern your identity."

"Thirdly, we must throw suspicion away from House Wayne.  Kate Kane's apparent non-involvement will assist that; but we will need to stage a false attack against my father's assets to really drive it home.  That will require a great deal of consultation - but my father has used a great number of improbably ruses to conceal his activities in his tenure.  This is just one more."

He looks up again after his voluminous assessment, back and forth between the noblewomen.  The next words come with some difficulty; much less natural, less practiced, than the rest.

"I...invite your thoughts, and challenges, also."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

*Know: Local*
 - The Dark Market used to be a much bigger and more powerful criminal syndicate in Gotham before their leadership was ripped apart in a confrontation with the Dark Knight. Zucco's imprisonment led to a serious rebalancing of the status quo that had reigned for nearly 20 years after Thomas Wayne's murder. You already knew that the Market was trying to re-expand once Zucco had been sprung from prison. The political patronage that was needed to free him from Blackgate had been mysterious -- but now that you're armed with Questor's hastily drawn note, it seems obvious what happened -- the Cobblepotts must have been behind Zucco's release.

There's no question the corrupt nobles and crime gangs would have liked to have seen Fox finally wiped out. Your party's intervention (and Fox's newfound economic power and rejuvenated mercenary guard force) seems to have set events in motion that have put you in Gangland's crosshairs.

The Dark Market is involved in every kind of illegal trade but they are mostly known for black market trading, drug and (illegal) arcana snuggling, and fencing / laundering stolen wealth.

*Know: Royalty and Nobility*
 - House Cobblepott is an incredibly wealthy, powerful, and infamous noble house. Unlike most traditional ruling Gotham noble houses, Cobblepott is not a human house, but a Deurgar one. That makes them unique since most powerful houses lean on College or Imperial connections for their strength, and Cobblepott has neither.

What they do have though, in spades, is money. The Cobblepotts are the rulers of the Banker Houses, and are therefore unfathomably rich. They maintain the third largest military force in the city, after the Blackgates and the Justicars, ostensibly to protect the banks. In reality, they also have a huge shadow army that operates completely illegally and mostly at night, engaged in the same kind of gangland shenanigans that the Thieves and Market do. 

It's widely believed that the Justicars fear them because their true strength outstrips the Justicars. Given your background you've seen this play out more than most (+4 Circumstance bonus).

House Cobblepott is always led by a male Deurgar, except in rare circumstances. The patriarch of the clan is usually referred to colloquially (but always behind his back) as "The Penguin".

The current Penguin is Lord Oswald Cobblepott.

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## JbeJ275

> "This has rapidly become highest priority.  Our tasks are threefold, as I see them.
> 
> First - we must track and extricate  Kane's companion.  That is going to involve running afoul of the Penguin and the Dark Market, unavoidably.  That, of course, is the main task."
> 
> "Second, we must find a way to deflect suspicion that Kate Kane is the Batwoman, or this will happen again and again.  That is going to require..."  He pauses, and purses his lips; his prematurely machiavellian mind blazing away behind his grey eyes like a furnace of cunning and strategy, "...Sacrifice.  Spoiler, or rather _Brown_ is the only one of us that can pull it off.  But once we rescue your friend, Kane, I suggest we send her away from Gotham for a while.  It will be expected after such an ordeal.  If Brown goes with her, she can use her knowledge of disguise and subterfuge to pose as Kate Kane, perhaps augmented with some glamours her own companion provides.  If _what's left_ of the Dark Market after we get through with them is able to report that Kate Kane and her cleric companion have fled town, while reports of the Batwoman continue to pour in, they will have to draw the conclusion that Kate Kane is not the Batwoman and therefore not worth their effort.  That will buy us time to keep at them, until we shut them down completely, hopefully squashing this unfortunately competant effort to discern your identity."
> 
> "Thirdly, we must throw suspicion away from House Wayne.  Kate Kane's apparent non-involvement will assist that; but we will need to stage a false attack against my father's assets to really drive it home.  That will require a great deal of consultation - but my father has used a great number of improbably ruses to conceal his activities in his tenure.  This is just one more."
> 
> He looks up again after his voluminous assessment, back and forth between the noblewomen.  The next words come with some difficulty; much less natural, less practiced, than the rest.
> ...


"I'd question your plans there, though the first I agree with wholeheartedly I believe you're putting far to much focus on the second and third that could be diverted to better ends. If Kate wishes it breaking down the links between her two names is no poor idea, at least in the short term, but I for one would not like to keep this mask all my life, at some point I'll be expected to taake command over the Justicars as Barbara Gordon, and I can't do that while also playing the part of oracle, nor could I make too many steps to clear out the justicars, not whithout sharing the affirmed truth of how I found this out. The purpose of our battle here, our nighttime crusade against crime, must it always be a rearguard action to stake out small pockets of light in a city swamped by darkness? I for one hope the light may return to rule over the streets of the city unchallenged, if more carefully than before. Sending away Kate's contact might make sense, if only to ensure their safety, but discarding both a contact among the church and an agent as capable as Spoiler, rather than using them to gather information on long deployment, seems a poor use of our limited forces.

As for the third, I see all the more danger in spending valuble coin on a ploy like that, our foe today cobblepot grew to command a force almost unmatched in the city, but he only commands those goldsworn goons due to his own financial efforts. Making it look even more like Wayne, the one source of wealth in this city not bought and sold by the criminal element of the city, can't defend his holdings will sap hope from many, and ensure more coin flows into the Penguin's pockets.

----------


## Feathersnow

Honestly, I'm shaken.  The Questor order doesn't have enemies.  That's the point of them.  They _help_ people.  Whoever did this needs to be made an example of.  And it isn't just my hellish ancestry saying that.   Laws and society only exist because people respect them, and fear and respect are just different sides of the same coin.

I can't imagine Renée would willingly flee the city, whatever the risk.  Cowardice and dereliction are cardinal sins to St. Cuthbert.  But she does wear a mask.  Subterfuge might be acceptable to draw fire from her order.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien grimaces a little, though restrains his counter-objections.  "Well.  The first thing we must do is the thing we know we must, for now - locate the kidnappers and captive.  The Dark Market have her somewhere, and we stand no chance of tracking them now they're long gone on these worn-and-weathered streets.  But the clue we do have - Lord Cobblepot's involvement - is somewhere to start shaking trees for information.  If that runs dry, we have a remaining long-shot checking with Cobblepot's rivals."  He looks skyward briefly.  "I will take Titus back to the guest estate.  Soon, it will be dark enough for our dark work."

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

I'm just assuming the Waynes/Foxes have a place here in the city, not back on the castle island, where we can semi-permanently stash pony sized dogs with staff.

I also assumed it's close enough to evening that we'll be ready to be rooftop-hopping into the Penguin's territory, looking for Cobblepot agents to jump and beat for information.

----------


## Molan

*DOWNTOWN*



Damien stored Titus in the old clocktower apartment the Wayne's had kept near the Merchant's tower. Kate and Barbara hadn't come away from the temple complex completely empty handed -- the other Imperial Priests were more than a bit alarmed to see some of their own being ransacked so brazenly. Barbara came away with a _potion of restoration_ for the low cost of knowing Kate and promising to hunt down the perpetrators -- finally recovering days later from their encounter on South Channel Island.

The sun fully set; the Justicars mostly retreated back to their strongholds and safe districts, and the city became a dark, lawless place once again. There were a few ways to get from Midtown to Downtown easily, but "carriage" and "foot" were mostly not available. The arcane railway on the other hand provided a third option.

There were three basic levels on which the rails operated. In midtown, they had underground routes -- most of which still ran -- and tram routes -- three story high rails suspended on ancient stone and wood pillars, the carts ambling along over the heads of the common folk, showering arcane sparks down occasionally as the runes that powered them crackled and gleamed. In uptown, the tram level cars disappeared altogether. It was either the underground (for the peasants) or the sky cars (for the nobles); the latter of which were only one eight-passenger car at a time, each attended by a very well paid and talented bard, and they moved impossibly high above the city, sometimes as many as ten or more stories up in the air, suspended by the best cold iron arcane construction the College could afford the city's rules.

But Downtown -- downtown was different. Downtown was a bustly, thriving, ever humming hub of activity in Gotham. Home to humans, halflings, gnomes and dwarves of every stripe, it was industrial, commercial, wealthy and working class all at once. It was incredibly dense -- in some places -- but didn't sport barely any buildings above three stories. In some parts of the island, most notably the Dwarf Quarter and Halfling Basin, parts of the island's civilization were _themselves_ built underground -- a strange amalgamation of human, dwarven and halfling cultures, all rolled into one. There were no tram level or skyway level arcane rails downtown; it was the Underground or nothing.

After some deliberation, particularly considering who they were up against, the party decided against taking the rail further than the perimeter of the island. A midnight subway ride sounded like a really great way to get ambushed and murdered, and even if some of their alter egos remained successfully shrouded, they knew that their masked identities had begun to grow a reputation. That's why why the Narrows rail from St. Mary's Park made it's final stop at the West Hill station, and the doors open, the party was no longer on it; they'd relocated to the cart's roof over the Narrows, and vanished into the city night without a trace.

Robin had a map of the area, and was able to help point out where they needed to go. They sat huddled atop an abandoned stone building not far from the train station. Because Downtown was built generally lower than the rest of the city, they were able to see a fairly good distance from where they were perched.

*"Okay,"* he said. *"We're here, right at the edge of West Hill, Cobble Hill and the Narrows. Best we know, the Market is going to be active around the docklands, in West Hill and in East Park Side."*

*"What about Cobble Hill?"* Kate said, her voice cold and detached, almost desperately focused on their mission. She felt like she already knew the answer. 

*"Cobble Hill is Banker territory. As in the Cobblepotts."* Damien confirmed. *"We know that Zucco is stuck taking his marching orders from The Penguin, otherwise he'd still be in Blackgate. Cobble Hill's a nightmare for us, at least without proper preparation. It's all big fortified manors and guards armed with magical weaponry. But with any luck, our friend's fate is too low-scope for the Cobblepotts. The way Alfred tells it, they've got their sights set on higher targets."*

*"Such as?"*

*"Assassinating the Imperial High Priest of Gotham. Deposing the James' and taking over the city for themselves. Stuff like that."*

*"Oh,"* Oracle replied. *"No worries then."*

*"If we run into the Cobblepotts we need to hope that we either get lucky and Father decides to show up, or it's just a few of them. Those guys don't mess around. With any luck, we can head to the Exchange near Trillium Park, and get the information we need there."*

*"Right, and again, so we're all on the same page...."*

*"Sir Richard told me that the Exchange is one of the biggest black magic clearing houses for the Dark Market. Lots of stolen illegal goods going in and out. We'll probably see thugs from other gangs there -- everyone's making money. There's a big warehouse complex next to the park, I figure maybe we can get over there, scout for some intel, and find what we need. I mean, maybe all it winds up taking is we figure out which crappy tavern Zucco's made his latest hideout and we're halfway there."*

Kate flexed a black gauntleted hand around the haft of her halberd.

*"We stand out a bit, if we...walk in. How...loud are we planning on being?"*

*"We can probably start out sneaking in. I don't know how well put together these guys are but we have some magic and you've both gotten a chance to see how quiet I can be. But to be honest, there'll be a lot of mercenaries there. Who knows...we might even blend in."*

The two older women doubted that quite a lot, but they had a destination, and that was enough, for now.

Damien wasn't kidding about The Exchange. The warehouse was massive, sprawling well over a block and a half. it was an ungainly thing; it looked like a great sentient blob that was slowly growing and expanding, enjoining and absorbing the other buildings around it. Almost all of the activity was being carried out on the ground floor, leaving the dark, spiderweb infested warren of support struts, gangways and crossbeams above largely uninhabited. Down below was anarchy. Several open-air drug vendors peddled vile substances. Bootleggers pushed high and low end stolen alcohols from around the world. Jewelry and art of every kind was bartered and traded for. Here, they saw a woman with deathly pale skin, covered in tattoos, overseeing a table that looked to be covered in black books that'd be bound in human skin. There, a series of dark looking magical rods, each chained into glass cases with tight links of cold iron -- apparently to prevent escape. There were clearly people selling illegal potions and elixers and poisons, stolen and smuggled rugs, and even rare and exotic magic creatures. Anything and everything went, in the Exchange, it seemed.

Oracle let her senses radiate outward over the patrons below as she carefully made her way through the rafters. Periodically throughout the bazaar, tables were laid out or planks of wood were laid on barrels to allow for makeshift common areas, where men drank and played with prostitutes and insulted each other and cut deals or swapped rumors. Even as they watched, one of the people stabbed the man he was talking to. No one seemed particularly alarmed.

Finally, Oracle found what she thought she might be looking for; a sly, uncouth looking man wearing slim fitting black noble's finery, an odd apparel choice for such a dingy place, with black hair slicked back across his skull. He and some of his associates -- all of whom looked much more dangerous than he was -- sat with him, deep in conversation with what looked like a particularly unpleasant, if strangely handsome, half-elf. The half-elf had a coterie with him too, and the two groups sat in a semi-enclosed booth surrounded by what looked like the torn and tattered remains of a ship's sail. Oracle positioned herself overhead, and allowed her magically enhanced hearing to start to pick up tidbits of information.

*"You and I both know we'd all be a lot happier if the Dents were off the streets,"* slick-haired nobleman said. *"Come on now, Velnire. You know I'm not here to start a gang war -- we want to do business, not pick a fight."*

*"And you know, gods-damned well, that if I catch another one of your card-carrying monkeys trying to collect protection money in one of my neighborhoods again, the next time I come down here it'll be under completely different circumstances. You and I both know who the Boss is in Gotham city, and we need to pay our respects accordingly."*

Slick-hair raised his hands as if in defeat. 

*"Fine, fine. Fine! It's all good my friend. One day, we'll look back at this and laugh I promise. Listen, let's talk about how we can start pushing merch to your people, eh? You can let us know where we can set up fences to operate and return the favor? And then we can settle this whole nasty hullabaloo with the church."*

*"The issue isn't with the Church. Remember?"* "Velnire" said flatly.

*"Well..."*

*"You took the priestess because those mercenaries set our work against the Merchants back sixty fugging years, that's what this is about. We need to draw them out and drop them in the East River. Then I'll send Softfoot for Fox and we can finally solidify this whole thing."*

Slicked-hair sucked in air over his teeth. Velnire raised an eyebrow, as if wondering what the issue was.

*"Huh. So Softfoot is real."*

Velnire took a long swig of ale in front of him.

*"Course he is. Why would we make him up? The Thieves Guild needs people to know that when you pay top dollar for a footpad, you get a top dollar footpad. Boss'll pay the bounty himself. Then we'll be finished."*

*"Are you...sure, though? These Mercenaries...I don't know. What if the Dark Knight intervenes?"*

Velnire never broke Slicked-hair's gaze. 

*"When's the last time you've seen the Dark Knight, hmmm? Since he put your boss away for a spell? Or after that with the Clown?"*

*"Well, I don't know...I..."*

*"Get the word out on the street about where you're keeping the Questor. We'll ice these merc idiots and move on with our lives."*

With that, Velnire downed his drink and stood up, and the other thieves followed suit.

*"I'm done here."*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara swiftly and quietly relays this to the others, then conjures her usual shimmering field of Mage Armour as she looks down at slick hair, making a leap between a gangway and a crossbeam to keep him in sight as hed wandered in hope she relayed the story, and she considered the many potentially suspicious ears below her. Wordlessly she points to him, then to Kane, and mimes the action of prayer, then a grab. She motions with her eyes to the nearest exit, then with her other hand to the wand of fireball she still holds close. Finally as an afterthought he taps two fingers to the side of her head and points those same figures at the man below.

The message was not a hard one to decipher. They took Kates priest, wait for Slick hair to leave or cause a distraction in here and grab him then? Or try and see what his thoughts hold?

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate prepares herself for a fight but gestures to Scion to give the call to him.  She doesn't trust herself to make the call in a compromised state and he is a noble with the right training,  if not much experience.

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## MrAbdiel

Gunmetal eyes swivel from Barbara, to Kate, and then back to the slick-haired gent below.  Briefly, they rake over his shoulder at the district as a general, and its density of _criminal scum_, before he signs out a reply to his comrades.  A rapid counting up of fingers on one and, and a flat dismissive slice of the palm; thumbing toward the exit and another palm slice; but an affirmative tap of the temple, and a nod.

Too many in here to risk taking.  Risky even outside.  Lets see what you can get from his mind first.

----------


## JbeJ275

Nodding, Barbara first taps herself with the wand of Fox's Cunning then casts _Detect Thoughts_, first on the slick haired criminal who'd just been told to dissemenate the information about the Questor, or panning back over to Velnire if this information couldn't be gleaned from him. 

*Spoiler*
Show


(1d4+1)[*5*] from the wand, to give this a save DC of 20

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts, First Six Rounds*
Show


*1.* Cone casts over slicked-back and his coterie. Thoughts detected.

*2.*Five thinking minds; 11, 10, 11, 16, 15.

*3.* Slicked-back's thoughts dwell on his encounter with Kysel Velnire; he hates Velnire and thinks he's a smug jerk, but doesn't believe in dealing with his rivals through a "direct" approach -- he's much more eager to see Velnire get tripped up one day the same way the Dark Market did, and seizing advantage in the power vacuum.

*4.* He's shocked about the admission over "Softfoot". He knew the Thieves Guild had plenty of cutthroats but Softfoot's reputation was legendary. He needed to adjust his calculus in light of this new information.

*5.* He doesn't know how to feel about Velnire's point that the Dark Knight has stopped appearing recently. Run in's with the Batman had left a deep mark on the Market -- it'd nearly destroyed the organization, and even in survival they were now vassals to the Cobblepotts. Still, this was an interesting point -- where _had_ that pesky paladin gone off to? He'd heard the rumors just like everyone else about the new man-bat monster plaguing the city -- maybe the bloody fool had just done everyone a favor and gotten eaten by a monster?

*6.*He could start spreading rumors about the Questor tonight. Shouldn't be too hard for the mercs they were hunting to hear about it, especially once some of the Bards caught wind of what was going on. He had to return to the Snapdragon and report to Zucco on his conversation with Velnire. Zucco's support the plot. The Snapdragon may have been their formal meeting place but the Market's real lair, and the location for the trap they'd spring, was in the Cellar; a hidden culvert their network used to warehouse it's goods and conduct operations no prying eyes could see. They'd locked the priestess down there, and they just needed the mercs to show up and get properly murdered so they could move onto Fox.

Of Slick-Back's coterie, his gnome companion was by far the smartest. His mind was wandering away from actual business and instead dwelling on some new spells he'd been working on. Of the other three thugs, they were a mix of worried about confrontations with the Thieves Guild, considering how to advance their own stations/positions, or impatient for their shifts to be over so they could go have fun.


*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts, Second Six Rounds*
Show


*1.* Cone casts over Velnire and his coterie. Thoughts detected.

*2.*Four thinking minds; 11, 10, 11, 14.

*3.* Compared to slick-back's slippery, mercurial and nihilist thought patterns, Velnire's stand out as being rigid, cold, calculating and cruel; hearing them is like reading the inscription on a knife. His job was -- is -- to come down here, make sure Zucco and his little piglets stayed in line and respected the proper order of things, and prepare the way for wiping out Fox once and for all. He was skeptical it'd work -- he was still relying on these idiots from the Market -- but they'd been dumb enough to expose themselves by hitting the Temple of St. Cuthbert, so...so be it.

*4.*Boss Falcone would want a report. That was good enough in his book. Whatever way this went down with the Market, they'd need to start planning the rest of the operation to consolidate Midtown.

*5.*He briefly wondered whether that priestess was still alive or if they were actually keeping her. He might have just slit her throat if it was up to him, but for some reason he assumed Corrone there didn't have the stomach for that sort of thing.

*6.*Part of him almost wanted the Market thugs to fail. If they did, it would highlight their weakness and make them easier to push around. Then he and his own Guild House could take care of the Mercs personally.

His thugs have less bothering them than slick-back's, or "Corrone's", men did. They all respected but deeply feared their boss, and that kept them focused on their assignments.

----------


## JbeJ275

With the spell now having done it's job Barbara pulled back out of range from the caster's below, heading to an esterior raised window of the warehouse and from there reaching a quiet cranny in the roof from which they could freely, if quietly discuss things. With her mind now racing with new connections she breifed the other two.

"Okay, I just got a lot of good intel, where Zucco is gonna be, who's reporting to who... but none of that matters right now. I know where Questor is. Hells, if we can get into the right position with the right thug and depending on how deep that is.... we might just be able to save her tonight with little risk and leave Zucco and Falcone at each other's throats enough for us to further break their operations. We need to get to The Cellar, a hidden culvert not far from the snapdragon, and ideally we need to get there before they can be expecting us. Follow me.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate looks on, shocked. Not attacking was the right call. Who knew?

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien follows; staying near to Kate in case her armor compromises their sneaking and he is needed for an effort of redirection.  Internally, he is wracking is brain for anything he has heard about Softfoot.

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

*Know: Local (Take 10)* Damien knew almost nothing about anyone named "Softfoot". The name was known to the young princeling only as a sort of Urban Legend; the most dangerous of the Gotham City Thieves' Guild's hitmen. There wasn't even any solid evidence that such a person actually existed.

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## Molan

Their mission clear, the party cleared out of the Exchange as quietly as they'd come, and watched as "Corrone" and his buddies boarded a carriage and drove off into the night. Following them might have been difficult, but fortunately, Damien once again came in handy.

*"Sir Richard told me about this place."* he added helpfully. *"We head west to Chelsea. Downtown's so dense we can cut across the rooftops."*

In that, he was right, though among the three of them he was clearly the most used to running along the city's shingles. Still, Kate and Barbara managed to keep up just fine, and in under an hour they'd made their way to a street overlooking their destination: The Snapdragon.

The Snapdragon was a higher-end halfling tavern located in between the well to do neighborhood of Chelsea and the more mercantile but still thriving Halfling Basin. The proprietors had built it in such a way as to allow taller patrons to enter and physically accomodate the space without knocking everything over or hitting their heads, but the result was a strangely squat, three-story building with an odd sense of proportions and dimensions, as though it'd been taller once but had been sat on and slightly squished.

Still, it was clearly one of the nicer places they'd been to -- stained glass windows covered the front facade and multiple lanterns dangled on silvered chains, ensconsed in pains of colored glass. Upon closer inspection, Barbara was able to identify that they were faerie fire lanterns, rather than mundane ones -- high society indeed.

Yet despite the high class nature of the place it was immediately obvious this was not the kind of establishment you arrived out without an invitation. Multiple unsavory looking muscle types loitered outside, smoking and drinking and keeping a leery eye on the streets. Corrone's carriage showed up not much later, and he and his bodyguards went inside, presumably to report back to Baron Zucco.

Even at this hour of night, there was still plenty enough sporadic traffic though that, if they assumed (or perhaps used Oracle's powers to narrow) that most if not all of the grim men and women moving in and out of the place were Dark Market agents, they ought to be able to pick up and isolate a target for their ambush. The question was just who, when, and where.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara momentarily kept quiet, while she knew some spells that could help here (Sleep in particular was fit for that purpose she mentally reminded herself) she had less direct military experience than either of her two companions, and so left picking out the target to them. Instead she was focused on the next step, reviewing what she knew of the Culverts in the city and how the might be accessed, and of their extraction. If the Quaestor was wounded theyd need to get her somewhere safe quickly before the troops assembled nearby could catch up with and overwhelm them, regardless of whether or not the transposition was successful.

OOC:
23 for Knowledge (Local) for safe places to get Quaestor to nearby
20 for Knowledge (Architecture and Engineering) for the construction of Culverts

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

*Knowledge: Local -*  You haven't spent a lot of time Downtown, nor in Chelsea in particular. But there is one place you know fairly well and it's not very far away from here, best you can tell. Only three and a half blocks south of here is Chelsea Motte, a large and well fortified Justicar garrison. You know this because Chelsea Motte is itself only six blocks away from Blackgate Fortress and the Imperial Legion's headquarters. As a child, you'd visited both dozens of times riding inside Lord Gordon's armored war carriage. If memory served the Motte is loyal, well provisioned and a safe redoubt, though it's an open question whether you'll be better recieved as Oracle or Barbara Gordon there.

*Knowledge: Architecture and Engineering -*  Gotham's sewer and water systems are, in many ways, ancient. But they've been updated and modified and rebuilt many times over the years. Some of those developments happened under various Wayne regimes, some under the Empire. But nowhere does Gotham's water or sewage run better and more smoothly than in Downtown. The influence of the dwarves has led to the expansion of every kind of underground system on this island; the Subways, the sewers, water filtration, and more. 

Reviewing the area, you're able to deduce several possibly entrypoints; there is likely a centralized divert hub underground somewhere nearby, likely to the west of your current position, somewhere past the Snapdragon. If you move west, it shouldn't be too much work to find a larger drainage gate, and follow that down to your destination.


As they watched, four figures stumbled out of the Snapdragon, having apparently been there for quite some time. Oracle's enhanced senses could pick up some of what they were saying.

*"...watch duty tonight."*

*"...won't...come, you'd........an idiot....down there."*

*"Mercenaries are.......worry. I...........some of the Blackleaf Sherry down in the............fun night."*

*"Alright...........down there."*

The men were all well armed; the party clocked swords, axes and knives stored on their black studded leather armored bodies. Three of them walked past the front of the Snapdragon and down the alleyway to the side, while a fourth stayed back to light a cigar and smoke for a while. After around ten or so minutes, he eventually put it out and began to mosey his way down the alley after them.

----------


## JbeJ275

When the Cigar smoking thug proceeded down the alleyway Barbara carefully glanced around to ensure there were no obvious positions giving clear line of sight to where the man was walking, if she found such a sufficiently obscured spot she'd ensure the others were ready to retrieve the thug, or follow through with the attack, and then cast _Sleep._ (DC 17)

----------


## Molan

Wistful runes and traces of arcane tendrils whisper through the air around Oracle's hands before vanishing as quickly as they'd appeared, and a feint whisper of the spell's final utterance danced through the night air, breathing into the thug's ear just as he was disappearing into the shadows of the alleyway.

He dropped like a stone; invisible to the party and the other people in the area, but still hitting the ground loud enough for Oracle's clairaudience to detect it. The spell had landed. Step one, complete.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Man I really can't roll worth a damn this week lol.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate climbs down, uses a power stone to quarter his weight, and climbs back up,  carrying him like a sack of potatoes

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara takes out her silken rope, binds and gags the fallen thug then finds an unobserved corner of roof nearby. If Kate is willing she'll then have Kate hold the other end of the rope, before tapping the thug a few times to wake him up and then, before he can fully come to, hurling him off the edge of the roof, letting the silken rope snap taunt only after he free-falls for perhaps ten feet. Then, she'll lean to the very edge of the roof, and look down at the bound thug below, taking advantage of his reduced weight and her restored strength to pull him back up to the ledge.

Then, with a ruthless smirk she puts one finger to her lips, making the classic mime for silence, and slowly reaches for the gag in the thug's mouth.

"Look, some of your accosiates did something foolish. You seem to have aided them in that, you can pay your debts on that from here and now if you'll just tell us exactly where in the Cellar our dear freind is being kept, then we'll send you back to your friends. Can you do that for me?

What the thug hadn't seen is her double and triple checking the rope afraid something would go wrong there, and spending about thirty seconds in a flustered panic as she'd never done anything like this before. That was an aspect of Justicar buissness her father didn't want her touching, but she had no better plan for actually getting an innocent out of this, and if scaring this thug was what it took she was ready inhabit the mask and do it.

----------


## MrAbdiel

When they spy the isolated thug, Damien is ready.  He spends a few moments slicking a couple of shuriken with the black venom he most often uses and, one in each hand, moves to the edge of the building to aim.  Throwing with both hands is much harder than a single shot; but there was no telling if one dose would do the trick, and two gave another chance.  Hed just have to be good.  Excellent, even.  And Id they failed at this range, he had his grooved sling bullets for a last effort.  He cranked back his arm

And the thug flopped forward, at Oracles perfect casting.  Well.  One less thing to worry about.  Now, to recover the captive.  He hustled back to where his backpack lay, put away his poisons, extracted the rod of ropes, and spent thirty seconds spooling out line from one end.  Tying it in a draw loop, he slips it over the stout stack or a chimney nearby and starts bundling the cord at the end closes to the rod itself, to make some kind of bind

Then Batwoman pops back over the ledge, snoozing captive slack on her shoulder.  Damien audibly splutters, reverting to pug-like astonishment at the sequence; displaying all the signs of an operative trained and used to working alone; less accustomed to having a team of specialists that are both more skilled than he in some ways, and not holding back as a training opportunity.

He can offer nothing to the interrogation; so instead he keeps watch something Julius, as a matter of fact, does much better.

----------


## Molan

The thug was terrified. He sputtered and stuttered, constantly looking back and forth to try to see how far from the ground he was. Buildings Downtown weren't *that* tall, but this one wasn't especially short either. It was far enough.

*"Wha--What!? Who the hells are you!?"*

Kate just let the guy jerk downwards again as it in response.

*"Answer the question."* Oracle insisted.

*"Wait...I know who you are. The Cellar? You're those mercs that bailed out the Merchants Guild. You..."* he nodded towards Barbara, *"You're the arcanist...The Oracle. You're...you're hear for the priestess of St. Cuthbert? Holy hells...you sell swords have no idea what you've gotten into. They're coming for you lot."*

But Barbara pressed on.

*"You know? I like to take moments like this to imagine how I'd react if I had mere moments to live and was being dangled off the edge of a roof by someone who has nothing to lose."*

As she spoke, the thug's eyes began to widen.

*"I wonder what I'd do, with those moments, if that were me. I bet I'd talk a lot more."*

Kate let the rope take another brief slip downwards and the thug panicked.

*"Okayokay okay!"* he yelled. *"Just stop god's damnit. I'll tell you everything. After you hit Raam's crew at the docks, things got...testy, around here. The Dark Market was using the Chraal to run contraband...when they'd heard the Thieves' had hit it, Zucco and Falcone almost had it out. The Thieves wanted revenge and to lock Fort Clinton down for good, they got neither. The Market wanted to get into Midtown for themselves, but almost got a gang war. The Cobblepotts control the Dark Market and *they* wanted what was in Fox's vaults, and the Tetch's and the Nigmas both wound up being involved even though  they're  technically sworn to the Cobblepotts. The whole thing was a giant clusterfug."*

*"So your idiot boss and his terrible friends all wound up stepping on each other's toes and we showed their hands were all in the same soggy cookie jar. So the hell what. What does that have to do with my question?"*

*"Everything, that's what I'm saying. YOU lot broke the peace...it was never gonna last but you broke the seal early. Too early, for some of us. The Nigmas started watching your comings and goings and passing the info Downtown to placate the Cobblepotts. That's how we found out that the she-bat had visited the Temple of St. Cuthbert. It made sense...bat sigils. They say the Dark Knight served Cuthbert too. Anyway, to head off a full turf war we couldn't win, Zucco offered to serve up the Mercs...you...to Falcone. Secured some expanded business contracts out of it too. So if you bail that Cleric out and don't wind up on Kysel Velnire's torture rack because of it...the whole city's gonna burn."*

Kate barely managed to supress a growl.

*"Where...is she..."*

*"We don't care about all your political bull****. Do you wanna leave this roof alive?"* Oracle pressed.

The thug nodded.

*"Then pony up. Where's the priest?"*

*"Alright. There's an entrance to the Cellar like a block and a half west of here. Big drainage ditch behind the Chelsea Armory, open culvert that leads to a series of redirects for the city's water. She's on the second level down. They've got ways to watch the top level, the area below is built out as a clearing house for the Dark Market. Lots of warehoused goods, lots of guys like to hang there and drink. They converted some of the closed tunnels into cells. You go down there to grab her and you'll be surrounded. There's no clean way in or out. Best you could do is look down the central storm drain...you might almost be able to see her. But I don't know."*

The Chelsea armory was a large and well renowned blacksmith business that was used to making weapons and cavalry equipment for the Imperial Army.

The location he'd described wasn't far away.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Thank you, you know you seem to be smart enough to know a storm is coming, and if the city's gonna burn it'll snatch you up like dry tinder. If I were you, I'd make what apologies you need to make with your bosses and then run to another city, far far away, and try and make such ammends that when you next risk your life working for some greedy fool you have a hair's chance of ending up above when you bite it. I'll let you make your own choice."

With that Barbara nodded to the other two, and if they seem agreeable take the thug to the buildings behing the chelsea armoury, carefully targetting the area that had been described then shishing the others, and slowly, quietly chanting out the words to clairvoyance, a glass eye held in her fingertips filling with ghostly silver fluid and her sight fading out of where she stood and into a view of Questor's cell.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien goes along.  The plan is good, and seems to be going according to all expectation.  But the outcome that the goon forecasts also seems accurate to him.  The second they swap Questor with the thug, it's going to be war.

But Damien was _made_ for war.  While the creeps in the streets were at each other's throats, this might be the best time to really bite into their number advantage.  Extracting the Questor was their priority - but while they're here...

*Spoiler: Plans!*
Show

When Oracle signals she's ready to perform the transposition, Damien plans to drink a potion of _Longstrider_, and prepare for war.  Immediately before that, he'll have applied more poisons.  With four doses from his _Gloves of the Poisoner_, he'll put drow poison on 3 shuriken and 1 sling bullet.  He'll also put one dose of Purple Worm venom on another sling bullet.

----------


## Molan

Damien worked with his poisoner's gloves to prepare for trouble, and Kate kept a close leash on their captive. Sitting over the area behind the Chelsea Armory, Oracle knelt near the edge of their perch, her eyes glowing feint white as her spell took hold.

*Spoiler: Clairvoyance*
Show

Your previous information gathering pays off; directly below the storm drain at the center of the area below you is the "Cellar", and you're able to easily place your sensor in the second level, sitting invisibly in the moonlight passing down from one level to the next.

You see yourself in a circular room, with at least two or three passages that appear to lead in or out. It's well lit; torches line all the walls and there are candles and lanters everywhere. Two guards are playing cards near a closed off drainage passage that's been converted into a cell; crude bars and a simple iron door keep the captive retstrained inside.

Fortunately, she looks mostly not the worse for wear; she's not chained inside the cell, and appears to have a place to sit and lie down. Questor was never the criminals' objective -- your party was. She's beautiful, in a weathered, hardened sort of way, and wears simple gray robes, like a monk. She's quietly pondering a sigil of St. Cuthbert in her hands while the other two guards play cards and talk.

Around you, you can begin to make out the trappings of the ambush that'd be waiting for you if you'd stormed the cellar. This area is filled with various boxes, barrels and crates filled with the Market's illicit goods. Behind some of them, dark shadows already lurk. In the area just under the storm drain, around your sensor, you can spot some relatively cleverly described runes. You can't be 100% sure without trying to sense them with _detect magic,_ but based on your experience and knowlege you'd be willing to bet money the trap was based on necromancy. There's one passage leading from the first level that looks like it's been deliberately obscured by illegal crates of cargo; it's not hard to imagine that if you'd rushed in, enemy reinforcements could have come from that way. But the entire scene is laid bare for you courtesy of the sensor, and the Dark Market's feeble attempts to ensare you appear, at least for now, to be totally foiled. 

The only problem, of course, is that the two thugs playing cards are within eyesight of Questor. Once this plan begins, chances are that retribution will follow. Still, you've got your target, you've got a clean layout of the enemy forces, and you have the element of surprise.


As she spent some time channeling her spell, Oracle's lip curled up in the slightest of grins.

*"I found her."* she confirmed.

----------


## JbeJ275

Hearing what Damien was doing, she weaved a minor incantation to cover herself in Mage Armour.m, and trying to calculate how long they had before thugs would be able to navigate the interior of the structure and attack them. Then she raises a hand to count down on her fingers , three, two, one. Then with a strange series of words,  the captive thug was returned to their fellows, and the captive of the thug stood on the roof with them. 

Following that Barbara once again returned to looking through her own eyes, trying to quickly identify where any of those who were manning the trap would appear from, and spurring the others to start covering ground in the direction of the justicar bastion.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate Whispers in Celestial to her beloved. We have to move! she manifests urban strider while simultaneously moving to free Questor from any remaining bonds.

----------


## Molan

One of the spikes from Kate's forearm easily slipped through the simple flax knot still binding Questor's hands, freeing her quickly. The cleric smiled, whispering back to Kate in Celestial.

*Spoiler: Celstial*
Show

_"Hah! I knew I'd see you love...but you work fast! I thought I'd have another week down there at least. I can see you've been worrying too much though; you know I can take care of myself. Make sure your friends move quickly -- the Cobblepotts are here too, and they have a golem."_


As soon as the benign transposition had taken effect, Oracle had seen one last glimpse of the two guards playing cards suddenly startled as they found their compatriot had taken Questor's place. As her eyes readjusted to the nighttime air around her, she at first saw no movement at all on the street level. But she could hear plenty -- shouts from the culvert down below, then a lot of yelling and hard soled boots slapping against wet stone. And something else -- something deeper. Like a low, thundrous rumbling, almost as though they'd triggered an earthquake.

From the west, she heard another ominous sound -- the groan of wagon wheels, and the clopping of metal shod hooves on cobblestone streets.

*"Time to go."* she confirmed.

As they party turned to run south, something else caught Oracle and Robin's eye -- there was a sudden flash and a pop, and a strange, smoke-shrouded mystical doorway seemed to open up in the street behind the Chelsea Armory. A gnome stepped out of the door -- the same gnome arcanist who'd been escorting Corrone over at the Exchange. He looked angry, and agitated, even under the large oversized hood covering most of his face. He quickly began chanting, and silvery white sigils danced through the air. Oracle identified the type of magic instantly: divination.

----------


## MrAbdiel

On one hand, this was an alarming development.  This was someone's pet caster, immediately taking action to track the missing prize.  On the other hand, this was an _isolated wizard who didn't know he was there._

"Keep going."

This, he suspected, he didn't need to mutter; Batwoman would be getting Questor to high ground no matter who she had to cut in half to get there.  But Scion lingered a moment and then, leaning a little out from the edge of the building, he drops a specially prepared, grooved lead bullet into the well of his sling, gives it three quick revolutions, and releases it at frowning face of the caster.

*Spoiler: Surprise, goofus!*
Show

Sling shot at this unaware mage! (1d20+12)[*26*].  Damage is a mere (1d3)[*2*] bludgeoning, but importantly, if they take even 1 point of it, then they can also make their DC13 Fortitude save or fall unconscious.  Strickly speaking, wound poisons don't care if they are delivered by bludgeoning or any other kind of damage; I flavour the sling bullets as carved with ridges and grooves to break the skin a little.

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## JbeJ275

Barbara looks back at the slumped figure, thankful he went down so quickly. For a second she was tempted by the idea of retrieving the arcanist, or at least rendering him invisible so the other criminals theyd soon be facing wouldnt be able to wake him. Damiens words however soon spurred her on and she made to head south with the others at her full pace.

----------


## Molan

The party ran quickly across the city's rooftops, bounding over one closely packed building then onto the next. Kate held her hand out to steady Questor, but despite spending over 24 hours in forced captivity, the priestess held up for herself surprisingly well, trailing only Damien in grace and agility. It was only four blocks to the Chelsea Motte, but one of those was over a large open air dwarven beer market -- normally not much of a big deal, but it was the middle of the night so the market was completely empty, and in order to make good time they had to descend from the rooftops and onto the street level. As they booked it through, the dark, closed up warren of stalls, they could hear the braying of horses and the rolling ironclad thrum of carriage wheels on cobblestones quickly gaining on them. Rather than spend time ascending the buildings for one last block, they cut back into the main street. Barbara spared a look behind, and could see the sway of lanterns and torches rapidly gaining on their position. Across the street, several unsavory looking types were drinking, gathered around the glow of a faerie fire lit lamppost. When the low lifes saw the party, they started whispering to one another, and one of them picked up a club that'd been leaning against a nearby fence.

Chelsea Motte was a large, respectable looking Justicar Fortification. It was a large circular building, four stories tall (leading it to dwarf most other nearby downtown builidngs), and ringed by a series of eight large stone "struts" that encased the circular stone fort, giving it the look of a large gear. The block itself was surrounded by a huge iron fence, thick black metal rods as wide as a man's fist jutting up into the air ending in large, impressive looking spikes, connected by a series of horizontal running bars that tied the whole thing together. It's not the kind of fortification any normal keep would hold in the countryside, but this Justicar bastion sat in the middle of the city, and like so many others of it's kind, it balanced a look of approachability with an air of actual menace and defense. The main gate, however, was made of steel-reinforced wooden doors, which could be opened wide or sealed, with secondary smaller steel doors built in to allow individual entrants. Standing in front of the gates were four men.

In the Justicars, there were a few standard positions, besides those of officers and commanders. Guardsmen were the most common Justicar by far; they wore brigantine armor, wide brimmed metal skull caps, and long blue tabards. They were always issued clubs for patrols, and wooden shields, painted and emblazoned with the Justicars sigil. They were also issued short spears, but they usually didn't carry those on regular patrols -- that kind of weaponry was only for real trouble.

The second kind of Justicar was a lawman -- essentially, noble born professional fighters. they brought their own gear, and were usually poor knights. Most of them either used their positions corruptly to enrich themselves at the behest of their more powerful, shadowy noble patrons, or they held true to their service out of a sense of loyalty, either to the Gordons, the City, or the Empire, though it varied from Lawman to Lawman.

There were two such well armored guards waiting for them now, and two Guardsmen accompanying them; and they were all armed to the teeth.

*"What's your business here?"* one of the knights challenged as they approached. His compatriots were already looking nervously down the street.

*"We've come to see the garrison commander!"* Oracle exclaimed, not wanting to get caught out on the street when the Dark Market and -- gods forbid -- the Cobblepotts caught up to them. *"Please! This woman was kidnapped by the Dark Market!"*

The Lawman looked very much ready to tell them to piss off, but one of his commoner borne juniors spoke up.

*"Hey, I know them!"* he exclaimed. The two nobles looked back at the third man angrily. *"Them's the mercenaries from the docks! We heard about that mess from Justicar's Keep! They captured Raam the butcher and killed that elf pyromaniac, what's his name."*

The first lawman looked them up and down, cautiously.

*"What? How can you be so sure?"*

*"Her."* the Guardsman said, pointing his spear at Kate. *"They said one of them looked like the Dark Knight, right? But a woman, all covered in spikes and carrying a halberd instead of a sword. The She-Bat. That's her, I'd bet me auntie's hand I would."*

*"That's a peasants' superstition. Rumor. And no one gives a rats arse about your auntie."*

*"I dunno m'lord,"* said the second Guardsman. *"The reports didn't just come from the streets in Fort Clinton they came from the Lord Marshall's office. Apparently the Merchant's Guild hired em and confirmed it. Plus, Gen loves his aunti. She raised him. Sounds as good to me as anything t'swear on."*

The knight growled, looking back and forth between the party and his compatriots, before casting a worried look down the street, where the torchlight was glowing brighter.

*"Fuggin' hell."* he finally relinquished. *"Get inside, the lot of you. Sir Allard, wake the Watchmaster."*

The Justicars brought the party inside one of the steel subdoors and locked it tight behind them. No one stayed outside the greet the oncoming carriages. They rushed across the courtyard and over a short, mostly decorative stone moat before reaching the inner gates, which were still slightly ajar. Inside, they could see that the lower two levels of the Motte were wide open, a large circular cavernous room filled with iron stairways that lined the walls to secondary levels, a huge circular cage in the middle which was apparently a working area for the Justicars' armory, desks for the mens' paperwork and the Bloodhounds, and holding cells for whatever vagabonds had been locked up the prior day. It'd been mostly empty, but the whole place was beginning to stir. Someone had rung a bell from higher up in the building, likely warning the rest of the garrison that trouble was coming.

*"Who the hell are these four?"* an unhappy looking human Bloodhound challenged as the gate guards ushered them inside.

*"Mercenaries who tangled with the Thieves Guild up in Midtown. Apparently they just pissed off the Dark Market down here."*

*"Then get 'em the hell out."* the Bloodhound snapped, looking intensely unhappy.

*"Watch your tone when you're speaking to your betters,"* the Lawman shot back just as fast. *"Go get the Watchmaster."*

The Watchmaster of Chelsea Motte was a tallish (for his species) dwarf veteran with knot tattoos running across his face and down his arms, and a thickly, ornately braided but graying beard. Barbara had actually met him, several times -- Eldin Flamebrand -- but when he rushed down from his sleeping quarters, still shoving on his chainmail, he didn't recognize her at all. It'd been well north of five years since they'd seen each other, and she was masked as the Oracle, not Barbara Gordon. Still, she was quietly excited to see him; Eldin was one of the few resolutely, reliably loyal and brave Justicar commanders who'd never ever break his oath.

*"What's all this then?"* he asked. His Mountain Dwarf accent was still quite thick despite the decades he'd spent living and working in Gotham.

*"My Lord, Watchmaster. We are a group of...shall we say, concerned citizens, who have happened upon some trouble this night. The Dark Market kidnapped this Priestess of St. Cuthbert, and we liberated her from her unjust prison. But we fear they've come to seek retribution. We need the protection of the city's lawkeepers to ensure justice is not undone."*

Damien used his best "proper adult" tone, sounding as officious as he could, but all it earned was a sideways, somewhat wry smirk from the dwarf.

*"Ancestors...what in the hells were you all thinking?"* was all he could manage.

*"We didn't have a choice, Lord Watchmaster. We couldn't let them take her. It's not right."* Kate insisted.

As they spoke, more Justicars began to gather, garbed for battle but looking incredibly nervous. They all circled the gathering, looking to their leader for some indication of what they were to do.

*"No...I'll suppose ye didn't."* Eldin said with a sad looking smile. *"Allard told me that you're the mercenaries that helped lock up Raam and his goons and save the Merchant's guild. No one's had the nuts to do anything that stupid in this city for a long time, excepting maybe the Dark Knight of course. Ye have my respect."*

*"Thank you, Watchmaster."*

*"Don't thank me yet lass."* he snapped. *"My respect ain't gonnae alleviate yer troubles. It's night time in Gotham City, don't ye see? Why do you think the Justicars retreat to their garrisons at night?"*

He didn't so much look for an answer as he did let the question hang in the air. The party was silent; a worried look and a shudder passed throughout the room.

*"At night, crime and death rules Gotham. And in Downtown, death's got a name -- Cobblepott. Those deurgar ********s have far more men on their payroll than the downtown Justicars could ever hope to muster, and Baron Zucco and his fences all serve at their beck and call. The only thing that keeps us on an even footing during the day are the military forces from Blackgate."*

*"Well, there's our answer then, is it not?"* Damien pressed. *"Sure, they're asleep but can't we summon reinforcements from Blackgate?"*

Eldin stayed quiet for a while, chewing his lip. Eventually he turned to one of his bloodhounds; a young looking wood elf woman Barbara didn't recognize.

*"Selvie. Take the escape tunnel out to the south. Borek has a horse tied up down at the 4th Place exit. Get out of here and ride to Blackgate. The night commander is Captain Vul, tell her Eldin's calling in his favor."*

"Selvie" nodded and quickly took off, vanishing down a side passage.

*"Shouldn't we all be using the escape tunnel captain?"* one of the squirlier looking Lawmen demanded.

*"Nah, I think not."* Eldin said. *"We all start pouring out of it then it's not gonnae be a secret tunnel fer long. That's why only the Bloodhounds get to know where the entrance is. Besides, it won't stop what's comin'. We'd never get everyone out 'n time, and if we don't give up the Cleric, the Pengins are going to take it personal anyway."*

A glum look passed throughout the room. The Justicars hadn't expected to be in mortal danger tonight, and it showed.

*"Then...what are your orders...sir?"*

Eldin looked completely stonefaced, as if he didn't know what fear was.

*"Men of Chelsea Motte, to arms!"* he called out. *"This is our city, damnit all to hell. Tonight, we're gonnae stand for it. Prepare to defend this fortress at all costs!"*

With that, the men quickly broke, rushing to arm themselves and prepare to fortify the keep. From somewhere outside, a horn blasted, bringing a brief moment of frozen quiet inside the keep.

*"Oooooh Watchmaster! We know yer in there! Come on out and bring us what we're owed. We just wanna talk!"*

Eldin's gaze fell back to the party.

*"You lot better come with me."*

Eldin led the party to the roof of the Motte, which was protected by crenellations and was already filling up with Justicars, armed with crossbows, preparing to defend their stronghold. Eldin walked to the edge and climbed up on a set of stones that looked like they'd been built straight into the Motte, just for him. He looked out over the battlements, spreading his hands on the cool stone as the moon hung in the air just above him. The party joined him, and an alarming site greeted them below from just beyond the iron gate.

There had to be at least eight carriages -- though war wagons was probably a more appropriate term, armored up as they were and covered with archers and even a couple of light ballistae. Most of the thugs on the street below were carrying torches. They could spot small clusters of the lightly armed and armored Dark Market enforcers, but an alarmingly larger number of what could only be Cobblepott men. The Cobblepotts -- almost to a man -- wore black helms with large white diamond shapes over their eyes, simulating the sigil of their house. Some wore cloaks and some didn't, but all of them had large mains of thick fur around their shoulders, almost as a sign of status. They were both heavily armed and armored, and looked to be made up evenly of dwarves (duergar? Hard to tell) and humans.

Behind them, one of of the wagons sat, larger than the other, a big, ominous black door chained shut on it's side. Something rumbled and shook within it, causing it to creak on it's axels. 

*"How long will it take for Selvie to return with Blackgate reinforcements?"* Barbara whispered, seeming to sense the dark nature of the situation. 

*"At least an hour, maybe a bit longer. They're all in their beds right now."* Eldin quietly replied.

*"Come now Watchmaster,"* a man who appeared to be the Cobblepott leader called. He had a small shock of blond hair atop his scarred head, and was missing several teeth, but he was a huge man and looked vicious as all the hells, even from this far away. *"Let's not be silly eh, ya hear? Downtown's the territory of his majesty Lord Cobblepott. You've got somethin' of 'is. Just give 'is toys back, and we'll all be square."*

*"Yurip Pell, yer a slimy sewer rat now and ye'll be a smily sewer rat tomorrow mornin',"* the Watchmaster shot back. *"I don't have to show or tell ye nothin'. This fortress belongs to the Justicars, and therefore to the Imperial Law. In the name of Lord James, the Gods, the Ancestors and the Emperor, take this rabble of yers home, or I'll shove you and yer pet Zucco back under Blackgate where ye belong."*

"Yurip" just shook his head, giving a semi-toothless grin.

*"Come on now, Watchmaster. It's nighttime in Gotham."* he said coyly. *"You know you all sleep soundly in that Motte only because we let ya. Night belongs to us. And if you want the daytime to stick with you, do what's good for ya."*

*"Last warning Yurip. Get off my streets."*

Yurip shook his head, giving a sideways glance up at Eldin before walking back towards his allies and the Big Wagon.

*"Have it your way, Watchmaster!"* he called back.

*"This is gonnae be bad."* Eldin warned the party. *"Hope you lot got a bit more o' that **ss and vinegar ye gave the Thieves Guild with ye tonight. Yer gonnae need it."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"We're ready."

Perhaps a somewhat premature assurance from the pre-mature warrior; but he is, atleast, speaking for himself.  "Scum like this need to learn to fear the night again.  We shall write a ballad of retribution in the language of blood and fractured bones."

Trying to track numbers and groups of the assembled enemy before moving back out of the vectors of the ballistae, the diminutive Damien turns to Watchmaster Eldin in the precious moments before the siege begins.

"I don't like the looks of that bigger wagon.  Some kind of weapon in there, perhaps.  But more worrying than that is the report we sniffed out that an agent named _Softfoot_ was involved.  I expect he, or she, will be principally interested in my companions and I - but your men with best eyes and ears should be casting some glance within the lines, expecting a skilled infiltrator to be running the rafters once the initial clash takes all the attention.  That's how I'd get in."

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate makes a point to be professional in front of outsiders when addressing Questor. Questor, I don't know if you were able to prepare spells, but I am sure the Justicars can arm you if you feel up to fighting.   I doubt a devotee of a war god would meekly let others fight for her. _Be brave, dearest_ she finishes in Celestial.

With that, The She-Bat manifests her powers and activates her powerstone of enlarge person, then charges the wagon! I am the terror that flaps in the night!

----------


## JbeJ275

On the way up Barbara takes a moment to root through the various supplies on her belt, quickly draining a _Potion of Blur_ and handing a _Potion of Grease_ to one of the crossbow armed quistars with instructions to drop it on any party attempting to storm the door directly, then she refocused her attention on the larger fight. She also offers a longbow to Questor if the Justicars don't have time to get her a weapon and taps herself with the wand of Fox's cunning once more to further increase her spellpower.

"You're a good man Eldin, one of the best. It's been a long time since such things were rewarded in gotham, but tonight me and my friends are going to change that."

Then sidling up to Damein she said. "If I had to guess, the larger wagon contains the construct we were warned about. Once it revels itself, I'm going to have to bring fire down on it, I don't know how else we could hope to bring it down." 

Then she steps up to the rooftop, robes and cape billowing up around her as she raised her hands to cast, white dust in her hands taking on an unearthly light as she directed it towards those in the lead cart.

"If you scum claim to rule the dark then you'll need to understand. The darkness is simply where the light needs to be, and it's waiting to be taken back."

With that she drops a Glitterdust spell on the most densely concentrated area of criminals, hoping to prioritise the Ballistas and those directly facing Kate.

----------


## Molan

Eldin shook his head.

*"Nay lad. Softfoot works for the Thieves Guild. If'n he comes fer ye, it wouldn't be here at a battle, an' it wouldn't be in service of the Market or the Cobblepotts. Sounds like you lot got more problems than even just surviv'n th' even'n."*

Outside, Oracle's glitterdust spell covered one of the ballistae crews, along with a couple of archers. Pell began giving indecipherable orders to his subordinates. Two of the dwarves stepped forward, each draped in long cloaks, scale mail suits and the distinctive black and white helms of the Cobblepotts, and began praying. Each of them summoned a burst of power to the larger human fighters standing next to them, one of whom was carrying a greatsword, the other a greataxe. They seemed to radiate with dark, divine power as the blessings took hold. Pell gave out another order, and a bunch of his men drew axes and swords and lined up to the sides of the gates, while others still levied crossbows at the Motte. Finally, Oracle could just hear him say --

*"Alright, let's introduce them to Solomon."*

One particularly menacing looking Cobbblepott soldier worked to remove the large barricade keeping the door of the largest wagon shut, pulling open the door. Another man to the side of the wagon -- he looked like some kind of arcanist, though what, specifically was a mystery -- drew a long wand from his belt, readying it.

The wagon shook, and whatever it contained moved to escape it. Meanwhile, a small group of Justicar Lawmen and Guardsmen formed ranks just behind the moat in the courtyard, weapons at the ready.

Two bluish gray, deformed, monstrous looking hands reached out from within the wagon, grabbing either side of the door, and seemed to pull, tearing the terrible hulking frame from within outward, and blowing off the door hinges of the wagon as they did so. It was a miracle the beast had ever fit inside the thing in the first place. It appeared to be a massive undead creature, though it was unclear whether it was a construct, some sort of deformed, mutated corpse or something else entirely. It's face was a rictus of anger and pain, it had a mop of dead white hair above it's head, and metal bolts sticking out of it's head and neck. It looked incredibly powerful, and muscular, in a twisted, unnatural sort of way. It was at least 12, maybe as much as 15 feet tall, and had to way over a ton. It was dressed in what was essentially a motley collection of black rags, like someone had created a facsimile of clothing for the great beast. It looked up at the Motte, and the party, with cold, dead white eyes, and began chanting.

*"Born on a Monday....Christened on a Tuesday...."*

And with that, the beast charged. As it did so, the man with the wand pointed it at the great beast, and a bolt of lightning leapt out, electrifying the creature. Rather than anger or damage it, the lightning seemed to electrify and energize the monster, making it somehow more robust, almost..._bigger,_ and clearly more dangerous.

The monster rolled up to the outer gate, slammed it's fists into it, and promptly battered the whole thing down with a terrifying crash. It was right about that time that Questor and Batwoman arrived out of the front gate of the Motte itself; Questor packing a quarterstaff she seemed to have found somewhere, Kate brandishing her halberd.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Easy opening round. Three ballista still not glitterdusted. Oracle's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

*"If those of you who walk alongside that monster want to live, you'll drop your bows and get on the floor NOW"*

After delaying half a beat, enough for any of the ten odd gangsters walking around the construct to throw themselves to the floor but not really to let them scatter Barbara brings up the wand of firball and discharges it above the heads of the monster and surrounding thugs, hoping to catch the creature and anyone standing but let anyone in the dirt survive with only a tan unmatched in gotham.

Damage: (8d6)[*28*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Woof. One save. What a life. That guy should buy a lottery ticket.


Oracle pointed her wand, spoke a single arcane utterance, and let fly. A ball of fire hurtled towards the shattered gate, smacking straight into Solomon Grundy's face, and exploded, engulfing the Cobblepott "breaching team" in fire.

One of the attackers actually managed to duck per Oracle's warning, albeit slowly. He got burned, badly, but the rest of his compatriots were immediately engulfed in flames, and they died horribly, screaming, their burning bodies falling on the cobblestones. In an instant, the "mood" in the battle seemed to shift -- the overconfident criminals were suddenly taken aback, and the terrified Justicars, suddenly emboldened.

But Pell was not startled. He look furious.

*"They'll pay for that. Gors. Kill the caster."*

The man with the high powered lightning wand nodded, and was suddenly ensconced in radiating purple energy. Oracle was immediately reminded of their encounter with Harvey Dent, and not in a positive way. "Gors'" hand radiated the same dark purple light, and he abruptly "popped" off of the ground, soaring through the air over the battlefield, straight towards her.

The two elite fighters down below rallied the rest of the men who hadn't been standing near the gate when it exploded, demanding they press on. Swords flew free from scabbards. Ahead of them, Grundy charged.

*"Married on a Wednesday....Fell ill on a Thursday..."* he moaned.

The great construct rushed through the courtyard, but he was moving slower than he'd been only moments earlier. He knocked aside a pair of lawmen near the short bridge covering the moat, howling in anger. Behind him, two new fresh, un-barbequed cohorts of men rushed in, each led by one of the men with great weapons. As they pasted, the deurgar clerics cast new spells over each cohort, covering them in baleful energies. 

The two groups of crossbowmen and the still functional ballistae opened fire on top of the Motte. There were around twelve justicars atop the Motte when the crossbows hit. Five of them were struck, and of those, three were killed outright, the rest crying out in agony and clutching their injuries, but refusing to run from their posts...at least so far. A fourth Justicar met his end when one of the ballista bolts struck the battlements, ripping out stonework and impaling him at the same time. The other shaft fell short, embedding itself in the stonework.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn, then Kate. Questor and the Justicars will follow.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien lays his borrowed crossbow in a hollow of the motte's crenelated edge, and encounters the obvious problem.  The crenulations are built at height for adult humans.  To build them for anyone shorter would needlessly expose the tall folk to enemy fire, so short folk brought over slim wooden crates from a pile for just such a purpose.  Damien did not know this procedure; and it would be degrading for his subconcious to suggest he should look around for the answer in how others have solved the same problem.  So he bobbed up on his tiptoes, tried holding the crossbow at full extension of his arms; but found he was either unable to hold the bloody thing, or unable to see.  Just as he layed the weapon to one side and curled his fingers over the edge of the stone ready to pull up, a volley of deadly missiles rained through the neighbouring crenulations and laid waste to many of the defenders.

At such a time, Damien was more than happy to be short.  His height was the _optimum_ for defence, and the disorientation of enemies.

But speaking of such enemies, as he pulled himself up, he caught a clear sight of the enemy caster racing through the air, with the command of his superior to strike at Oracle still echoing in his keen ears.

With a flick of the wrist with a movement so practiced it was almost autonomic, Scion let loose a spinning shuriken at the airborne agitation; betting this caster's blood was as weak as the last one's.

*Spoiler: Attack!*
Show

All the struggling to see was just flavor, really; but maybe 5ft adjust to stand on tiptoes to see over? Lmao.

Anyway, Standard Action to fling another sleeper-shuriken.  I hope he passes out mid-flight and just smashes face first into the motte wall three feet below the edge he was intending to clear.

(1d20+10)[*28*], including the -2 for range.  If you're willing to consider Damien hidden at the beginning of this action, I'll take it!  In that case, I'd get sudden strike damage as well as attacking his flat footed ac for his surprise.  If not, it's just normal ac, and just the d2 of damage.

(1d2)[*1*] Shuriken damage.  (3d6)[*12*] Sudden Strike damage.  DC 13 Fortitude save, or fall unconcious.

With a move action spare to draw the trusty Rod of Ropes!

----------


## Feathersnow

The She-Bat locks eyes with the golem. It's Saturday

She braces to be charged!

----------


## Molan

Damien's shuriken flew out invisibly though the night, striking the flying spellcaster and earning a how of pain. Frustratingly, though he seemed to wobble for a moment, he didn't pass out or fall, continuing his advance, but looking hurt. Blood even fell through the air beneath him as he passed.

Next to Kate, Questor jammed her quarterstaff into the earth and took off her heavy robes. It turned out that what she was wearing was actually more of a cloak that she'd had wrapped around herself, and she tossed the extra garment on top of the staff, keeping it off the ground.

Under her robe was a plain gray, long tunic, tied at the waist with a simple cloth belt. She wore very loose fitting slacks, had sandaled feet and her hands were both wrapped tightly in white cloth. A set of prayer beads dangled from her cloth belt, ending in a silver sigil of St. Cuthbert.

_"I am with you, darling."_ she said confidently in celestial. She then began chanting, and with a burst of divine energy, cast a _bull's strength_ spell on Kate. When she was done, she uttered one quick word, and both of her hands burst into bright white holy flames.

The Justicars opened fire. Bolts flew back across the courtyard from the battlements, and a few of the thugs in the street went down, though not nearly enough of them. Inside the courtyard, Cobblepott men clashed with the Justicar line. On balance, the Cobblepotts were superior to the Guardsmen, but inferior to the Lawmen leading them. Problem was, the Justicars were, on the whole, outnumbered, and there were only around six Lawmen in the courtyard. The Guardsmen held only by merit of collective effort; they fought in two tight knit blocks, woodens shields interlocked, shortspears held in overhead positions. They couldn't hope to last forever, but they could hold their ground, for a little while at least.

One of the Lawmen handily dispatched a Cobblepott soldier who'd charged him, quickly parrying the man's swordstrike, repositioning in a single motion and hacking his head off just as seamlessly. But a moment later, the Cobblepott elite with the great sword showed up and hacked _him_ in twain, tilting the odds right back. Still, the penguins were now suffering casualties and the Dark Market thugs appeared to have little appetite for joining them, staying outside the gates and firing their crossbows from a distance. Every one of the criminal attackers now had to weigh the risks of pressing forward with the risks of retreating and facing the Penguin's wrath.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Oracle's turn, I think.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle took a few steps to the side to ensure she could see around the enemy spellcaster, then brought her wand up again, unleashing its energies on the mass of cobblepot troops in the courtyard, seeking to break their push against the Justicar line, then yelled out a command to the other Juticars on the roof.

"Get down to the next floor, the slit windows are your best hope for cover. Take the wounded with you, me and Scion will hold the roof while you retreat."

----------


## Molan

A burning, angry ball of light leapt from the top of the Motte and dropped directly on the right-side formation of enemy fighters (the ones being led by the Greatsword), engulfing them in a terrifying explosion of fire. The ball of flame stopped just short of the Justicar formation, it's precise placement burning only Cobblepotts.

Great sword survived, but his men didn't do so well. Only two of the ten or so thugs in that throng managed to duck, getting burned but avoiding death. The rest caught the full force of the blast, and died just as badly as the breaching team had.

Things happened very slowly after that, then suddenly very fast. The right flank -- what was left of it -- broke, on the cobblepott side, and the left flank, at risk of being overwhelmed by a third fireball, broke and scattered, regrouping near the gates but staying more spread apart. This gave the Justicars some reprieve, though they weren't out of the woods yet. Justicar archers on the roof began gathering their dead and wounded and retreating down to the fourth and third floors. The formations nearer to Kate looked a bit confused, unsure whether to press their newfound advantage or pull back to a secondary fighting position.

Grundy let out a furious, terrifying howl, part ear splitting scream and part ursine roar, and barrelled over the last fifteen feet or so between himself and Kate. He even raised his arms over his head in preparation for a slam, but he was still moving supernaturally slow ever since he'd been hit with Oracles _fireball_, and couldn't complete the charge in a coherent way.

Up high, though, "Gors" had had enough. His hand glowed with furious eldritch power and he wheeled back and then hurled a ball of otherworldly purple malice straight into her chest, eliciting a scream of pain from Barbara's lungs.

The archers down below seemed to register the shift in threats, and more than a few crossbow bolts swung Oracle's way this time. One of them hit, smacking into her leg, while most of the rest of the volley scattered across the top of the Motte harmlessly. One other bolt struck a Justicar in the arm, and though he was hurt, he managed to fight through the injury and continued hauling a wounded compatriot to safety.

Ballista bolts cracked into the side of the Motte in a new volley but still failed to penetrate it. Outside, Pell barked an order, the the deurgar clerics began chanting again, this time, apparently, to summon reinforcements. Seven large, fiendish monstrous centipedes began writhing out of the ground from rifts in the earth, apparently to replace the troops the criminals had just lost, and to remind the survivors of who they *really* had to be afraid of. Pell yelled some more, and the Dark Market thugs from the periphery reluctantly joined the fight. On either side, a couple of the rogues tossed potions at the iron bars, which instantly rusted and disintegrated several pillars, creating new breaches. The Dark Market thugs drew their short swords, which crackled with the same, menacing enchantments they'd seen on South Channel Island. Two more thugs, one on each side, threw potion vials on the ground, creating clouds of _obscuring mists_ presumably to allow their commrades to try to make stealthy entrances.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

 Damien's turn.

Jbe how much ammo does that wand have left, for my own edification? 

Also you take 20 damage.

----------


## MrAbdiel

_Give up and die, knave!_

Damien attempted to think the matter into reality as the mage wobbled on, and begun flinging his magics at Oracle.  Forced to use his resource reserves, the littlest ninja drew in a breath, dropped his Rod of Ropes, and whipped a handful of fine powder at the ground at his feet, creating a veil of rapidly passing smoke too thin to credibly hide him... and then he was gone; the only evidence of his continued presence the crossbow bolt suddenly sprouting from the flying mage's back.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Taking the assumption that he's continuing on that trajectory up and over to fly higher and behind the crenulations to avoid obstacles, he should be about 30 ft in the air above us now - last chance to hit him with Sudden Strike before he exceeds my range!  Damien is dropping the Rod as a free action, going invisible as a swift action, resuming a two handed grip on the light crossbow and firing as a standard action, then dropping the crossbow as a free action and picking up the rod again as a move action, five foot stepping away from the edge of the battlements at that point.

*Attack* - (1d20+11)[*26*], (4d6)[*15*] piercing damage.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate viciously slices at the approaching revenant! One-two! Like an exercise on the training ground, and nearly as perfect!

A follow-up to the brutal initial flurry is less effective, but the She-Bat still devastates the flesh monster!

----------


## Molan

Kate's attacks devastated the great golem; she stabbed, ripped and chopped with military precision, dealing vicious wounds that would have gutted any other man. 

But she was alarmed to see that her enemy wasn't dead -- she wasn't sure if describing it as "alive" was quite fair, but even after her devastating maneuvers it was still very much up and moving. He brought his fists down hard, nearly crashing through her amorpha, but whatever Oracle had done to sort of lessen the creature seemed to be still having an effect, and though she felt the power of his blow, his fists failed to penetrate her armor.

Damien's shuriken struck true; there was now one blade protruding from side of the flying spellcaster's neck. He clearly appeared to have had enough, and rapidly dropped away, below the edge of the battlements to attempt to buy himself some cover, rapidly flying towards the exit of the battlefield. It wasn't enough; one of the justicar archers finally got lucky, clipping him from inside the Motte, and he went crashing to the ground down below.

Bolts were now flying out of the windows of the Motte in a constant stream of fire; though they were still outnumbered by the Cobblepott archers, they were now substantially safer; the Cobblepotts would have to breach the walls to get to them now. A couple more Cobblepott archers were injured or even killed by the outgoing fire from outside the fence.

Questor lashed out, slamming one of her flaming fists into Solomon Grundy's side, but despite the celestial fire coruscating around her hands, the blow seemed to yield little.

In the courtyard, the Justicars had taken control of most of the area, thanks to Oracle's supporting fire, but the incredible strength and durability of Kate's opponent gave them pause.

*"My lady!"* one of the lawmen called. *"We should fall back to the keep! The Dark Market is trying to flank us, we could surround it inside the Motte!"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Wow. Yea so if Grundy wasn't a golem he'd be dead as a dornail RN. Unfortunately he has a ton of defensive capabilities...FORTUNATELY so does Kate.

I believe it's Oracle's turn now.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle nodded at Scion with thanks, as his crossbow bolt struck hard at the flying caster. Barbara took the oppurtunity to try and quell the magic on the battlefield, bringing the fireball wand to bear on the clerics and the monstrous centipedes they had summoned, in the hope that enough fire could push through the vermin's natural resistance.

(8d6)[*22*]

She then retreats down the stairs, heading into the top level of the motte itself.

----------


## Molan

The hellish centipede monsters were largely resistant to Oracle's attack -- but even they couldn't resist the massive power contained in her wand. They writhed and squealed in pain, but didn't die, and though they were charred and burned, pressed their way inside the broken down gate, wriggling past the disgusted cobblepott soldiers near the fence.

Both of the deurgar priests took a bad hit too, and they cursed in their ancient language as their bodies were scorched. Neither contributed spells to the rest of the battle this time; instead they each summoned balls of blueish energy into their hands and cast spells on themselves, curing some of the worst of their burns.

Behind them, Pell chewed his lip. It was beginning to dawn on him that his attack was in trouble; even as the defenders retreated into the castle, he was running out of options.

He gestured towards the still-functional ballistae -- he only had 3 left -- and their crews began to lower them, leveling them at the courtyard itself. The archers rushed through the gap in the gate too, putting themselves at greater risk but achieving a better vantage point to fire on the remaining defenders in the courtyard. The ballistae fired, and the bolts smacked into the Motte doors. One of the doors was still propped open, and survived, but the closed door was shattered inward, preventing them from completely sealing the entrance.

The two fighters who'd led the attack finally decided to push the issue, taking up flanks against Kate and Questor, rushing to assist Grundy. Only the man with the great sword managed to land a hit that cut through Kate's armor, but it was a brutal one. Questor responded by taking a step back and casting a heal spell of her own on Kate, trying to lessen the impact.

Grundy swung at Kate again, but again failed to penetrate her armor. The effect was dramatic; Kate stood almost completely alone, on the short stone bridge covering the moat in the courtyard. Two elite thugs with great weapons and a massive flesh golem were all swinging away at her, but she managed to hold her ground against all of them while the justicar regiments began to pull back.

Meanwhile, Dark Market thugs began popping up again along the periphery of the courtyard, firing crossbows and short bows at the retreating justicars. At long last, the cobblepotts near the gate who's be scared off by Oracle's fireballs rushed in, joining the rest of the attackers. 

The moment of truth was rapidly approaching. The attackers had nearly lost their nerve, several times. Now, they all swarmed together, and the battle's outcome hung in the balance.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate takes 17 damage, but Questor heals back all of it.

Large Fiendish Monstrous Centipedes are pretty badly hurt. Grundy is hurt but not out. Dwarf clerics both got hurt, but they healed the worst of their injuries.

Damien's turn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien watches the battlefield shift; watches Kate's valiant thrashing against her elite challengers, and Oracle's desolating fireball blasts; and decides perhaps he is not _made for war_ after all.

There was no man or woman on this battlefield he was not confident he could kill.  But he was a precision weapon and quick as molten silver; but this war called for sweeping weapons, and heels that did not move from the dirt.

_Precision.  The weapon I have is precision.  How do you leverage precision against such a rabble?_

Then the twang of the ballistae sounded, and the motte's gate cracked, and the enemy horde surged into the gap.

_With a force multiplier._

He gave Oracle a parting, communicative glance - _Do not die, Gordon_ - and then vaults over the lip of the battlement, vanishing again into a snap of smoke...

*Spoiler: OOC Actions*
Show

Damien's plan is to get to the ballistae, ideally once the goons have loaded them already, then turn them on the concentrated enemy in the entryway, if the justicars can hold them compacted there for a while longer.  But that'll require a bit of relocation.  Strictly speaking:

Swift Action: Turn invisible again. (4/6 Ki).
Move Action: Fire Rod of Ropes (Its default state when on a mission is grappling hook mode; sadly, if I had tied a loop, I could have abseiled down in abseil mode; but that's a whole lot of actions and a use rope check I can't do, so I'm being tricky.)
The target for the hook is the battlement on the far side of the motte to where he is, close enough to the edge that it won't get snagged when he jumps off. The idea is to swing down on the rope to just above the ground and then tumble to bleed of the horizontal momentum. Then he'll be on ground level, and start the stealth around to the ballistae.
Free Action: 5ft step to pop over the wall and swing downward
Move Action: Reset Rod of Ropes, vanishing the hook and retracting the cord, all of which incorporate into his invisible state once retracted.

I figure I can get maybe to about 10ft above the ground, but it's a little burry and there's a fall translated into sideways swing.  So I'm gonna give you a tumble roll, Molan, and you tell me how much damage invisible Damien takes, if any!

(1d20+13)[*23*] Roll, baby, roll!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate backs up a step to better hack at Grundy.

*Spoiler: poleaxe!*
Show

(1d20+11)[*25*] to hit

(3d6+8)[*14*] damage



She then bends time to do it again!

*Spoiler: poleaxe redux!*
Show

(1d20+11)[*17*] to hit

(3d6+8)[*18*] damage


Meanwhile,  a goon tries to sneak behind her, and gets wacked upside the head!

----------


## Molan

Kate's poleaxe slammed down hard onto the man swinging the sword at her, cutting through his armor and drawing a substantial amount of blood and a howl of pain out of her assailant. Both he and the man with the greataxe swung wildly in retaliation, but Kate blocked, parried, and deflected their blows in a brilliant display of martial prowess and discipline. No matter how hard they tried, nothing got through, even with their magically enhanced abilities.

Grundy added his fury to theirs however, and his twisted, distorted fist smashed into Kate like the fury of a charging bull, knocking the wind out of her. The Cobblepott archers fired at her too, a dense hail of steel tipped shafts suddenly flying in from every direction. One hit the man with the greataxe, and most of them failed to slip Kate's defenses, but she found herself pierced -- not once, but four separate times, in between various armor joints.

Meanwhile, the last of the Cobblepott melee troops and Dark Market rogues began to line up at the door to the keep, setting up a final push to breach it. The ballistae stayed at the ready, waiting for any Justicar formations or other defenders to pop out and try to attack the invading troops.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Single digits for days. For DAYS!

Thank you all for your patience.

Kate takes 30 damage. She sloughed off probably 100 damage but mathematically it's hard to go toe to toe with two level 6 fighters, a flesh golem and 20 archers before the numbers start going ouch.

Oracle's turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle continues running down the stairs, taking a half second to conjure a Cloud of Knives as she does so.

----------


## Molan

The Justicar guardsmen had, by this point, formed a tight block of spears just beyond and around the entrance, surrounding any would-be entrants on three sides. Their ranks were thin, even in such a small space; only about four soldiers deep. But with their shields forward, their spears locked in position, and the Lawmen knights and their commanders armed and ready behind them, they were more confident and in better spirits than ever, despite the pounding on the door. Up on the mezzanine level, many of the archers that Oracle had sent to cover had descended to provide covering fire from above, overseen by the keep's remaining Bloodhounds.

*"They'll be through any second now,"* the dwarf commander warned. *"Get ready for those ballistae bolts."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn, then Kate's.

----------


## MrAbdiel

But no one would be ready for the ballista bolts; atleast, not the first one.

Damiens blipped briefly back into view - or he would have, if he were not so cunning in his approach - before winking back into shadow again, melting through the night and the chaos; weaving through the operators at the siege weapon as they waited for the way to clear, for their craft.

And then the attitude crank on the side of the ballista spun counter clockwise three times, dropping the trajectory of the bolt from above the heads of the rear rank of scoundrels to the middle of their thronged mass.  Then the tension lever slapped up, and the bolt flew, and  for no visible reason, the artillerists committed a gruesome act of mutiny.

*Spoiler*
Show

*Attack!* - (1d20+13)[*22*].  I dont know what the proficiency for ballista is; but I assume the troops are unaware for flatfoot.  Damien is at 3/6 ki.

----------


## Molan

The ballista bolt hurtled over the iron fence and into the courtyard, smacking into a slab of granite along the moat, sending a shower of sparks and stone fragments flying everywhere, and causing the bolt to bounce back upwards for another forty feet or so.

The net effect was devastating. The bolt ripped through every organic target it struck on its way between the street and the keep, tearing off limbs and ripping open torsos. It didn't outright _kill_ more than a few of the attackers given the path it followed, instead maiming a good chunk of them along the way. But the effect was more that sufficient.

The Cobblepott melee soldiers broke into a route, some of them dragging wounded commrades away, others left bleeding in the courtyard. When they broke, the Dark Market rogues followed, and finally, belatedly, the two Cobblepott Captains wailing away at Kate, saw the way the battle was heading and turned to run, leaving Grundy with Batwoman and Questor alone.

Back on the street, Pell and the deurgar clerics looked up at the offending war wagon, rage on their faces.

----------


## Feathersnow

The mighty She-Bat swings again at the horrible golem!

*Spoiler:  attack!*
Show


(1d20+12)[*27*] to hit
(3d6+10)[*16*] damages!

----------


## Molan

The Justicars erupted into a triumphant cheer as, at long last, the enemy began to pull back from the keep, leaving corpses and injured criminals in their wake. The dwarf captain ordered his men to hold fast and secure the keep, rather than risk getting lured out into an ambush in the courtyard, but the route was final. As the Cobblepotts and Dark Market rogues mounted their wagons and carriages and prepared to escape, Pell gave one last, sneering look at the defenders.

*"We'll be back, drecks."* he spat. Then, as one final act of defiance as even his two cleric companions boarded their wagons to flee, he drew his own wand from a container on his belt. *"Grundy, let's go!"*

Pell uttered a command word, and the magic crackled and sparked, and it almost seemed as though the wand wouldn't work. But he shook it in one final jerk and a burst of lightning errupted from the wand's tip and screamed across the courtyard, smashing apart what was left of the gate at the keep.

As the bolt traveled, it rushed through Grundy, energizing him with new, deadly electric power. Questor and Kate, being right next to him and in line for the blast, were both immediately in danger. Oracle had been swinging one of her white-fire ensconced feet at Grundy when the bolt appeared, and she backflipped end over end away from the bolt to avoid the worst of the damage. The rest of it washed past Kate on it's way to the keep.

Grundy, for his part, swung one final defiant fist Kate's way, but only caught a gust of her concealing amorpha, and failed once again to land on her person. he didn't follow up the attack, and instead turned and ran as ordered, back onto the center wagon. The Cobblepotts finally drove off, leaving the chaotic scene behind them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Feather, make a reflex save.

Well done! We can drop initiative order...well, most of you can. I will give one more in-order turn to Jbe and then Damien needs to find a way to get the eff off of the top of his wagon.

----------


## JbeJ275

Unwilling to let so many get away, knowing that they may just have to face the same set again tomorrow Barbara dashed forward out of the bottom level of the keep, she lets a knife fly from her cloud towards the reigns attatching the horses to the carriage as she casts _Grease_ beneath the horses pulling it away.

Attack to reigns: (1d20+14)[*34*]
Damage: (1d6+2)[*3*]

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien blips into being and with a flash of smoke out again; to the men on top of the wagon with him, seeming perhaps like some pint-sized demon. They are not far off; with two deft movements, he clicks the Rod of Ropes over to its zip line function and raises it above his head to fire it.  One grappling hook fires left, the other right, both at the chest of men on top of the moving vehicle who can not even see the impacts coming!

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Move action to switch Rod Modes, move action to fire at two targets.  Im assuming theyre either side of him since he was at the firing position of the ballista. Flat foots because he is invisible!  And I will not demand sneak attack from such an imprecise weapon.

(1d20+13)[*30*] for the guy on the left, (1d20+13)[*24*] for the guy on the right.

If they hit, they take (1d6)[*4*] and (1d6)[*6*] damage respectively; but more importantly, they can oppose bull rushes with opposing strength rolls of (1d20+5)[*25*] and (1d20+5)[*25*] respectively, or risk being knocked off the wagon!  After which invisible Damien will 5ft step toward the front of the wagon.

----------


## Molan

Oracle's spells did their work, and the wagon the deurgar clerics were riding suddenly found itself being yanked sideways over a grease slick, crashing into the ground on it's side. Grundy, Pell's and the glitterdusted wagons swerved around the fallen wagon callously, leaving their comrades behind. Some of the carriages further back spun around and ran the other way, particularly the ones belonging to the dark market rogues. But for the most part, the wagons all took off south, likely looking to put as much distance between themselves and the unrestrained arcanist as quickly as possible.

Atop one of the ballista wagons running south, two of the crewmembers were suddenly knocked violently off of the top of their own war wagon. One of the fallen thugs had the misfortune of falling under the wheels of Grundy's carriage and was nearly cut in half, but the other was knocked unconcious on the cobblestones.

As the carriages tore off into the night, Pell -- unaware that Damien was still riding on one of his mens' getaway vehicles -- gave the keep one last, furious, crooked tooth glare. The stare seemed to be less a threat than a promise. The Justicars, and the Vigilantes who'd helped them, had made a permanent enemy this night, in one of the most powerful houses in Gotham.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle nods towards Batwoman and the Justicars, having them cover her as she approaches the wagon. With wand of fireballs clearly in hand she approaches the fallen carriage and raps hard on the door.

"Drop your holy symbols and come out with your hands up!"

She shouts, she's ready to counter any of their magics but hoping they realise they have no choice but surrender or death by Justicar arrowfire.

----------


## Molan

The dazed and wounded clerics, along with a couple of human bodyguards, slowly and begrudgingly removed themselves from the toppled wagon, awkwardly climbing out it's left-hand door, which was now on the top of the carriage since it was lying on it's side. They offered no further resistance; their hands were in the air. But their angry, gray-faced visages remained defiant.

*"You really think this is wise, Flamebrand? You know who Downtown Gotham belongs to."*

*"Aye,"* the Justicar captain snapped back. *"Lord James, his devoted servants, and the Emperor. Lock their arses up inside th' keep."*

The Clerics were marched away under armed guard, and the Lawmen began ordering the other Justicar regulars to cordon off the street. One of the Bloodhounds produced a wand and began casting the Justicars' distinct, flashing red and blue _dancing lights_ spell at regular intervals along the fence to clearly demarcate that civilians -- many of whom had woken up to the sounds of the battle -- should stay back. Plenty more Justicars began carting away the wounded and lining up the dead. There were quite a lot of corpses.

*"Good work lass,"* the Captain continued. *"If'n ye think you lot had a reputation 'afore, ye've really got one now. This won't stay confined to Downtown. Everyone in Gotham'll know of our newest vigilante adventurers. I've got ta warn ye though...the Dark Knight wasn't exactly met with open arms when 'e started appeparin' on th' city's streets. You just angered one of th' richest nobles in Gotham City. Ye'll 'ave marks on yer backs goin' forward."*

He looked her up and down, and the hint of a smile moved under his beard.

*"In hindsight, masks and helms were a pretty good idea. Don't feel bothered t'tell me yer real name. Best we leave that out of th' reports goin' forward."*

----------


## JbeJ275

"Thank you for your co-operation. I know how it can feel but the honest Justicars still remianing are still doing so much important work. I'll take your advice on board and it's good to know you're here. Doing this without a mask, where you're still going to be here defending the community the next day instead of fighting some other battle across the city is something we can't match."

With a wordless push from through the empethatic bond she called Juluis back from where he's been circling in the sky above the battle. 

"So far we've only made a few strikes of our own and already they're actively seeking us out, but we can't stay on the back foot forever. What your Lawmen see is a huge part of that, and we'll be sure to come to your defence if they seek to push against Chelsea Motte again. If you note any movement from the cobblepots, note it down and leave it on the roof with  bat marking on it. I'll send my familiar here to pick it up. Hopefully we'll be able to rebuild a network among the trustworthy Justicars."

----------


## Molan

The captain smiled.

*"Aye lass, we'll do that. We cannae' move against all o' these crooks just yet, but today was a great victory all th'same. Once Lord Gordon hears about this we'll get reinforcements from Justicars' Keep too. That won't solve our problems but it'll hopefully make Downtown a little safer in the meanwhile, give us some room t'move around. T'morrow I plan on doing some low-level roundups, lock up a fair number of street goons in connection with this attack. That ought'a send em a message, at least."*

As they talked, reinforcements -- finally -- started to arrive from Blackgate. Oracle had to admit to herself she was at least a little impressed. Super heavy cavalry sporting Blackgate sigils on their shields led the vanguard of a column of imperial cataphracts, and a series of war wagons behind them, which disgorged what had to be at least two hundred Imperial Legionnaires. Although they were too late to actually help, the military troops began expanding the Justicar cordon and locking down the adjacent blocks, detaining anyone they saw for questioning. The sky was slowly beginning to get lighter -- dawn was finally approaching, once again -- and a man that looked like the column's ostensible commander dismounted and approached where Oracle, Flamebrand, Kate and Questor were huddled.

*"Och. General Blackgate. Surprised t'see you up so early."*

Next to Lord Blackgate was the Bloodhound they had sent to fetch help the night before.

*"Funny thing about that, I was actually sleeping quite soundly until our adjunct woke me and indicated your garrison was...under siege?"* the man looked around at all of the carnage and destruction in the area, as though he was casually inspecting a garden. *"Looks like it was a rather short siege, if nothing else."*

*"Aye,"* the dwarf replied, gesturing to Kate and Oracle. *"We had help, so much as it were. These lot here are..."*

*"The mercenaries from the Merchant's Guild Docks?"* the noble said, sounding surprised. *"You don't say. Allow me to introduce myself: my name is General Tychus Blackgate, son of Lord Horon Blackgate, and commander of the Imperial Legion in Gotham City. Is that ah...your doing?"*

As he spoke, he gestured towards a pile of charred bodies the Guardsmen were stacking near the moat, sort of winking in Oracle's general direction. In response, Oracle merely shrugged.

*"That's quite some work. Maybe next time, the Penguin'll know not to skimp on spellcasters before he decides to act out again."*

*"General, this attack by the Cobblepotts...it cannae stand. The Justicars must remain the law in this city."* the dwarf said.

*"Aye, they will be."* Blackgate replied, sounding perhaps a bit too confident. *"Do you have any idea which hideout these thugs crawled out of? Cobblepott's got tons in Downtown from what I understand. We can't arrest anyone from his standing army but locking up one of his Nighttime safehouses would send a message."*

*"Och, not yet."* the dwarf replied. *"But we will."*

**************************************************  ***********************

As best he could tell, Damien's ride was barreling down Santa Rosa St. in West Hill, heading east, in the general direction of Trillium Park. When they crossed onto Sofia street though, the pell mell retreat began to slow, at least somewhat. Up ahead, he could see a section of the neighborhood where the faerie fire lanterns were all unlit, and if he squinted, he could see what looked like a path that led downwards to a basement level of one of the buildings on the north side of the street. That was almost certainly where the wagons were retreating to.

Not far away from him, the remaining crewmember on his wagon held onto a pole with one hand, for support, and quickly waived his short sword around with the other, still very much panicked by the way his too compatriots had been mysteriously dispatched.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien fades back into being - a three and a half foot tall gremlin wrapped in ungleaming strips of black silk.  He offers a second of perplexingly intense eye contact, before lashing out with cobra-strike viciousness!

*Spoiler: Attack!*
Show

Improved Feint: (1d20+10)[*26*] Bluff Vs the result of his Sense Motive Check + BAB.  If I win, he's flatfooted for the attack!

Attack: (1d20+11)[*24*] for (1d6-2)[*4*] bludgeoning, plus up to (3d6)[*15*] sudden strike damage.  Hopefully he's a mook without much HP, and also he rolls bad - otherwise I'm gonna have to burn some of my dwindling ki.

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle's ear's perked up at the Generl's offer, and a smile graced her lips. This could be quite the oppurtunity if played correctly. 

"If the Dark Market, newly arranged to be his stooge would fit as well as recipitents of such a message we made an effort earlier to locate the Cellar; a culvert the Market and their Cobblepot allies use to warehouse goods and conduct operations they don't want the Justicars or the noble soldiers of our fair city to see.. They've also taken to using it to store prisoners. Taking both the warehouse and the barracks out from under his control could chase yet more of them out, and delay them moving back in for quite some time."

----------


## Molan

Flamebrand scratched his beard, looking intrigued.

*"The Cellar...I like it. For one thing we know where it is, and for another we can easily seize all the contraband inside and arrest any of its guards without too much legal trouble. Unfortunately I probably can't put Zucco back in jail yet. The courts are a mess, and he's connected. Last time we got him was with the help of the Dark Knight, but he hasn't shown up in Downtown in some time. Still though, this'll send quite a message."*

Blackgate nodded in agreement.

*"I like it. Should we wait till dawn for your men to be ready."*

*"Nah, I don't think so."* said the dwarf. *"I don't want to give them any time to react. Lord Blackgate, if'n ye don't mind, since we already got ye out of bed. May I ask for your soldiers' help? No more'n fifty'll do, I'd wager. I'll send some Bloodhounds with ye to get yer boys access and help round up and tag everything we find there."*

Tychus shook his head.

*"Fifty? You'll have a hundred. And I'll ride down with my chevaliers to let Zucco know we'll be keeping an eye on him going forward."*

He nodded towards Oracle.

*"Keep us in the loop if you all see any more...excitement going forward. Always nice to see the deserving and the wicked locked up in our basement."*

With that, Tychus took off, dispatching his orders to his men. Flamebrand sent out his bloodhounds to joint he imperial soldiers, and they headed north, back towards the Cellar. Based on what Oracle'd seen inside, there was no way the Dark Market would be able to move that contraband before they got hit. All in all, not a bad night.

**************************************************  **************************************************  *****

Damien's latest victim fell off of the wagon and smacked into the cobblestones below with an unceremonious "thud". With all of the commotion around the wagon, no one seemed to notice.

The carriages all turned into the entryway that led down into the large dwarven looking building on the left, and though he had to stay low to avoid being seen, Damien found himself in a fascinating new world. This was a large hideout, and no shambled thieves den either. The architecture inside was lit with deurgar runes and psychic crystals and incredible -- if ghoulish -- deurgar architecture scrawled up the pillars and around the walls. If nothing else, it matched Gotham's often grim civic motifs.

There had to be three dozen carriages stored down here, along with a host of weapons, illegal goods, arcana, illegal psionic items, and other goodies. But more alarming were how many men and dwarves he suddenly found himself surrounded by. There had to be well over a hundred or so active Cobblepott goons in this hideout, and they were all fairly furious.

The men in the hideout looked deeply displeased to see how so few of their compatriots had returned. The men in the carriages were angry at the men in the armory for questioning them. Recriminations abounded,  and there was plenty of incredibly tense shouting. These place was dangerous, and Damien was more or less trapped, alone. 

On the bright side, no one had spotted him. Yet.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien, when the moment permits, slips liquidly down the back of the vacated carriage and beneath its undercarriage, where eyes will not think to cast themselves looking for him.

The extensiveness of the militarization here, the sheer numbers of the enemy, astounds him.  He had believed Oracle's decimating infernos at the siege had made a significant dent in the Cobblepot numbers... But the city's resident criminal warlord had not yet _begun_ to make war.  If they had expected the stiff resistance they ended up facing, they could have swallowed up every charge in that wand and still had enough swords to bury the fort; and the forces of order would know it and surrender long before making them pay that price.  But they were all here, now; and there was no shortage of war-arcana.  If there was a fireball wand there, and he could figure out its activation - or any number of other weapons - he could do damage.  With the right force multiplier, he could bring the ceiling down on them, or flood the room with gas - wipe them all out.  Then-...

_No.  That's grandfather's way.  And my father's way hasn't failed.  Yet._

Extraction was an obstacle; but for the moment, he had the opportunity for reconnaissance.  Mindful of the dark dwarves' increased perception of dark spaces - a not-uncommon boon of non humans - he attempts to listen in to any conversations between individuals of any elevated rank he can find.

----------


## Molan

Not far from where Damien hid, several of the Cobblepott men in the armory were arguing.

*"The fug happened out there, Pell?"*

*"Get out of my face Hammerhead."* a familiar voice replied. *"Before I move you out."*

"Hammerhead" didn't seem perturbed, or intimidated.

*"The fug you think you're talking to Pell? You had a job to do. Where the hell are the rest of your soldiers?"*

*"It's the mercs from the Merchants' Guild,"* a new, female voice added. *"They hit the Cellar and then held us up at Chelsea Motte."*

*"Held you up?"* Hammerhead repeated, sounding skeptical.

*"I'm not fugin around Bruthwol, they're no joke. You know Raam was no slouch, even for a scum sucking Thieves Guilder. He's rotting in the Witch's Asylum now. They brought heavy hitters."*

*"Heavy!?"* Hammerhead snarled. *"We gave you idiots Solomon Grundy! You know what a pain in the arse it is powering him up and down? And speaking of which, where are Firehand and Steelshadow? The warlock?"*

*"The clerics didn't make it. They got pinched."* Pell spat. *"And the warlock's dead. So are most of my men."*

*"You're telling me that a four fuggin' mercs scared off Grundy, killed our warlock and half our men and pinched our fuggin' clerics!? How??"*

*"The Oracle's a wizard -- no slouch. We took a bunch of fire blasts to the chin. And the Bat Woman stood toe to toe with Grundy, Merf and Tarc and didn't even flinch. The fug do you want, Hammherhead?"*

*"The Penguin's going to bury you for this."* Hammerhead snarled. *"There's no way he's buying this. There's only one Dark Knight in this city, no way he buys that now there are four."*

Most of the rest of their chatter was unhelpful crosstalk. "Merf" and "Tarc" were soon yelling at Hammerhead too, apparently defensive about their failure to kill Kate. Damien was beginning to think about trying to use their chaos to slip out, but finally, Hammerhead dropped one last piece of interesting information.

*"We gotta lock this up, put the barriers back up."*

*"Are you going to the Palace?"*

*"Fug no, are you insane? Head back to the Final Offer. If Blackgate and Flamebrand start doing roundups I don't want any of this getting back to us until the Boss has had an update."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

The child-soldier listened from his concealment, behind a stack of duergar ale casks previously emptied and awaiting disposal.  In the chaos, no one would be rearranging barrels; and becoming one with the shadow and the silence, Damien's eavesdropping was unhindered.

_The Final Offer?  What is that?  A club?  A ship?  Fox would know.  But they're locking this place down - time to go._

Damien skulked away from the main room, and deeper into the hold.  The primary entrances were going to be festooned with guards; the rest of Cobblepot's men were tightening their defenses in prediction of the forces of order pressing the advantage.  Extraction the way he came in was unlikely to succeed.  But a subterranean facility like this needed things - water, ventilation, heat.  Those things, he suspected, would not be so tightly locked down.

In a quiet armory room, drained of its metal treasures that now lay mostly smoking and warped at the threshold of Chelsea Motte, he found a modest forge likely used for discrete repairs of arms, and the in-house manufacture of goods.  It would hardly be a dwarven hold even in part without a forge; and a forge without a chimney was just a smoke hazard.

He was caked in soot as he shimmied up the idle chimney; wriggling upwards through a tight brick sheathe of darkness that tilted forty five degrees as it ascended to join with the chimney of an innocent cover building.  Determined, he negotiated the bends in the stonework, the pitiless dark, and a mesh grate installed to prevent halfling thieves from sneaking down this way.  It was, however, bolted from the inside, preventing intrusion not extraction; and a minute of slick worth with his tools loosed it from his path.  Finally he emerged, black soon on black silk, crouching like one of the city's profusely present gargoyles  and watching the streets below.  As far as he can tell, no one ever knew he was there.

He takes out a sending stone, taps its rune to alert the other holder, and speaks discreetly into it.

"Oracle.  At Cobblepot barracks.  Enemy bracing for counter attacks.  Site Lieutenant 'Bruwthol, Hammerhead.'  Suggested 'Boss' may be at 'Final Offer'.  Ship?  Heading to docks now."


*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Move Silently is 28 for this, as per OOC thread.  Damien is using the one use of the sending stone to send that precisely 25 words to Oracle, then his rooftop-runnin' towards the docks - whichever way they happen to be, from here.  He'll be keeping an eye out in case Julius comes looking for him, though.

Unless... how adjacent to this particular scum-hole is the merchant district and the clocktower, where Titus is presently parked?  Because if it's close enough, I'm go get my dawg and riiiiide!

----------


## Molan

The Chelsea Docks were some of the largest and most profitable in Gotham; they weren't nearly as disorderly and industrial as the Merchants' Docklands, and instead had entire sections devoted to passenger traffic, recreational and military ships, and it's own commercial section. Like much of Downtown, it was controlled by the Cobblepotts, and Damien got his first good look at them from atop a Fallen Angel statue that towered over the cemetery portion of West Chelsea Park. 

Dawn, however, was fast approaching, and he was beginning to feel fatigue in his limbs even as he eagerly peered out over the docklands, looking for anything that might seem like his prey. The scattered clusters of Cobblepott thugs that crawled across Downtown at night began to dissapear, and more formal Justicar and Noble patrols -- including yet more professional soldiers with Cobblepott insignias -- began to replace them. Whatever they did, they were probably going to be stuck doing it tomorrow.

**************************************************  **************************************************  *****************

As the Justicars and Imperial soldiers reconnoitered, Oracle shifted impatiently from one foot to another, pondering the best possible way to track Damien and get them all out of here. It was a bit frustrating -- the little lordling was so impetuous that he'd appeared to put himself in danger yet _again,_ possibly giving them yet another hostage crisis to deal with.

But as she had the thought, one of the sending stones in her pocket seemed to shake, and she removed it, watching as the rune on it's surface lit up, and Damien's brief message hummed quietly in her ears.

*"Oracle. At Cobblepot barracks. Enemy bracing for counter attacks. Site Lieutenant 'Bruwthol, Hammerhead.' Suggested 'Boss' may be at 'Final Offer'. Ship? Heading to docks now."*

*"The Final Offer?"* she exclaimed out loud. Questor, Kate, and Flamebrand looked up at her with quizzical expressions. *"Does that mean anything to anyone?"*

The dwarf scoffed. *"That old bloody thing?"* he said with a bit of a chuckle. *"Guess I'm not surprised old Penguin'd use that as a hideout. Good bet none of us would bother him there."*

*"Where is it, then?"* Kate said.

*"The Final Offer is a ship. Parked rather permanently down at the Chelsea Docks. Feel free to go take a look -- I guarantee you won't miss it."*

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara rubs her eyes, dealing with a fatigue born in part from bone deep pain inflicted by eldritch magic, in part by the emotional turmoil of seeing men in her family's service die and killing in return, in part by the long night and in part simply from dealing with Damien for any length of time. 

Still, even if it would be too late for a strike by the time she arrived, the chance to sit in on any meetings between the Boss where they'd discuss their future plans via her divination magics would be too valuable to pass up. Thus she bade a solemn goodbye and gave her thanks to the Justicar's there before making it to the docks with all the alacrity she could. Her hope to fine the _Final Offer_ and overhear the conversations between these men and their boss via Clairaudience.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate would love nothing more than to hold her beloved in her arms and be sure she is okay... But Lord Copplepott had ignored her threats.  HE had provoked her.  he had gone against the innocent and blood had been spilled.  He would answer, either to the justice of men or the mercies of her father in Hell!  She turns on her urban strider power and advances with uncanny grace and nit a word

----------


## Molan

*== THE CHELSEA DOCKS, DAWN ==*

Damien was still perched atop the statue at the crest of the Graveyard when Julius finally found him. The bat was looking almost as loopy as Damien felt. Julius chirped at him for a bit, and Damien found himself temporarily amused with his new friend before eventually, the bat abandoned him and dropped away from the statue towards the ground. Damien's gaze followed the bat down and watched him duck underneath Oracle's cloak, hiding himself from the newly dawning sun. Seeing his compatriot, he dropped off the statue to reconnoiter. 

*"Find anything yet?"* Oracle asked drowsily.

*"I think so,"* the princeling replied. *"I take it you got my message?"*

*"Yes, the Justicars said it was a ship,"* of course, as she spoke, the endless rows of masts arrayed before them seemed to make the sentence somewhat superfluous. *"Any idea which one it might be?"*

*"Actually,"* Damien found his mischievous smile again. *"I think I might!"* and he pointed towards the southwest.

The _Final Offer_, as it turned out, was a massive, largely decommissioned Imperial Greatship. It was raised only partially out of the water, as though it was supposed to be moved to drydock and scrapped but never made it that far, so it's already gigantic four masts stood out much taller than any of the other vessels around it. It was located in the industrial section of the docks, ensuring it would stand out even more -- the military section of the docklands were much farther south. It was just incredibly gaudy and impossible to miss, and a single, half-torn sail hung from it's centralmost mast, not tethered to any rigging but instead lazily flapping in the early morning breeze. Someone -- or likely, a few someones -- had sloppily drawn a penguin's head on the sheet in black ink.

It was just...so incredibly brazen. Even here in the light of day, an abandoned military ship sat proudly proclaiming it's ownership. No formal Cobblepott banking business or merchant trade could possibly be occurring there. Whatever the deurgars' excuse was over owning the moldered vessel, it was likely paper thin, but so firm was their hold on Downtown and so weak Gotham's establishment, that they got away with it anyway.

*"Wow."* Oracle grunted. *"Subtle."* 

Sure they were alone, the two moved to leave the graveyard and head towards the old ship, but behind them they heard the plodding of heavily armored footsteps, and were shocked to see Kate appear behind them.

*"Uhm...how did you....?"*

*"I've got a special trick for striding cities quickly,"* the spiked half demon growled. Her voice sounded more metallic and menacing than usual, the less worldly half of her heritage seeming to burn through her otherwise kind and noble facade. Her blood was still clearly very much up.

*"Alright, well, in any case...my plan was just to get close...ish. I only need to be say, five, maybe six hundred feet away from my target in order to hear them, even if they are on one of the lower decks. Bit trickier now that daylight is burning away a lot of our cover and our notoriety is beginning to spread..."*

*"We can probably use the nearer ships' rigging, or maybe even one of the heavy cranes though."* Damien added helpfully. *"No way they can cover every approach to that thing."*

*"Dame Kane...are you...okay with that?"* Oracle hesitated. *"Or did you have something more direct in mind?"*

----------


## Feathersnow

"What they did was brazen, an assault on the laws of gods and men.  My father's kind, they serve a role in the machinery of the cosmos, to ensure the ineffable order of the Divine is maintained.  For a lord to attack a priest then rise against his sovereign is an abomination. 

 I say this so you understand, that one of the people in the attack was the person I love most, and that they were attacked precisely because I warned off these.... _people_...

Something must be done, and it must be seen to be done.  Every part of me is clear on this.  But I have not lost my sense.   I leave it to you to determine when and how the blow lands.  I'll do my part, just make it soon."

----------


## JbeJ275

"I'll ask nothing more, but for now this is a good oppurtunity to learn where the blow may be struck at out full strength. That said, while I have some magic I can weave for invisibility, divining into the meeting will require me to speak. If you should spot Juluis flying up, be ready to cause some further trouble to lure guards out of my position before they can track my invisible form, and if you spot any of Cobblepots agents isolated here, I'd not begrudge you taking them in either."

With that, Barbara wove a spell of invisibility overherself, and began to move towards the outline of the ship, hoping to find a secluded point within range of the ship and attempt her scrying on the meeting. 

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Move Silently: (1d20+12)[*29*]
Using Spontanous Divination to convert a Dispel Magic into a Clairvoyance

----------


## Molan

Oracle, Damien, and Kate made their way down to the industrial docks. The city slowly came to life once again, and people began to flow into the docklands to start working. Despite the crowds, Damien and Kate were able to get relatively close to their intended wharf by running along the roofs of the nearby warehouses, allowing them to narrow any response time if Oracle needed it. 

Barbara, for her efforts, had an even easier time stealthily moving towards her destination. The semi-flooded drydock that held the _Offer_ was walled off by a lichen covered stone barrier, and the main gate inside was crowned with a heavily weather-worn sign that read, "Mok's Landing". Whoever "Mok" was, he was long gone, and instead of fishermen, dockworkers or merchants moving in and out of the gate, it was guarded by an impressive looking assemblage. 

At a table sat a patronly looking deurgar with a long graying beard, tied into knots and adorned with iron jewelry cut into all manner of sharp angles. He was looking over some kind of ledger, but it couldn't have been for tracking any commerce. Next to him was an intimidating sight. Two human knights, clad in full platemail, with heavy fur-topped cloaks, stood brandishing huge claymores, their tips pointing towards the earth. Next to the knights were a pair of deurgar heavy infantry that looked, for lack of a better description, like a pair of stunted, immobile statues. They wore runed suits of super heavy mountain plate, and stood behind incredibly heavy looking steel tower shields, which in addition to flashing runes of their own, had the extra deurgar-specific embellishment of ghoulish demonic faces etched into their surfaces, seemingly howling outwards at on-comers. They carried wicked battle axes at their sides and their gauntleted fists carried Dwarven Warpikes.

But none of that much slowed Oracle down; the perimeter of the wall wasn't nearly as heavily guarded as the gate, making Oracle wonder if the super expensive guards weren't at least partially for show. She found some freight piled near one part of the wall, and with little effort, was up and over. 

Inside, she was able to see a little bit more of the complex around the offer, which was mostly filled with abandoned crates and old workman shacks. There were two old, massive wooden craneworks that loomed over the ship, helping keep it partially out of the water, and a long permanent gangplank leading up to it's weatherdeck. There were two watchtowers inside the enclosure, and parts of the cranes, the watchtowers and the ship's "Castles" were patrolled by a smattering of deurgar soldiers carrying modified heavy great crossbows. Human Cobblepott men milled around the top and bottoms of the gangplank, but she couldn't see or hear much activity beyond that. 

No matter -- she stealthily worked her way up the stair and ladder systems that crawled up the side of one of the cranes, avoiding the sights of the snipers patrolling the area. Once she was around 500 feet or so from the center of the ship, she cast _clairaudience_ once again.

~~~~~~~~~~
<Voice 1> *"I'm sorry, how many?"*

<Voice 2, almost certainly Pell>*"Fifty or sixty at least, we haven't done a full counting. Golem tamer's dead too."*

<Voice 3> *"How! HOW in the hell did you lose that many men!? Chelsea Motte only had around forty to sixty souls in it! And you emptied your entire armory!"*

<Voice 1> *"And they had ballistae."*

<Voice 3> *"And you had ballistae!"*

<Voice 1> *"And they had Solomon Grundy."*

<Voice 3> *"AND you had Grundy! I--"*

<Pell> *"Alright, ENOUGH! I get it. It wasn't that fuggin' simple. Fox's new mercs were there."*

<Voice 1> *"Curious. What were Merchants' guilders doing helping the Justicars?"*

<Pell> *"No, no, no. Listen. They weren't guilders. Fox picked em up from gods' know where. But they've been tearing the whole damn town up. They're the ones who kept the Merchants' Guild alive. The Market only picked the cleric up in order to get back at one of them. They sprung her, and we rode out to kill those mercs!"*

<Voice 1> *"All this for some adventurers? You'd think the Dark Knight'd returned."*

<Pell> *"It's not him, Gertrud. I've seen the Dark Knight, up close. I did three years underneath Blackgate thanks to that piece of trash. He hasn't come back...these scrubs are new."*

<Voice 3> *"That still doesn't explain how you lost sixty fuggin' soldiers."*

<Pell> *"These aren't just some bottomfeeder backtaverl sellswords. One was a mage, a good one. Another one dueled Grundy and my best captains to a standstill and didn't seen to break a sweat. It was bad."*

<Gertrud> "*There were only two of them? That seems..."*

<Pell> *"I didn't say there were two! Sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice m'Lady. It's just that, we didn't see the others. Doesn't mean there was two."*

<Voice 3> *"Now I know you've lost it. Dueled Grundy to a standstill? You've lost your edge Pell."*

<Pell> *"It ain't that simple you moron. The wizard lit Grundy on fire, slowed him down bad. I would've had the warlock fix it but I sent him to kill the wizard and someone killed him instead."*

<Gertrud> *"Ah, yes, I've heard that is a rather ongoing issue, isn't it? Sort of a systemic weakness..."*

<Voice 3> *"And one we're working on, I assure you m'lady. The fleshcrafters have been plenty busy, and Grundy's latest failure will not be the end of his modifications."*

<Pell> *"Well that's fuggin' great Embek. In the meantime, how about you explain to the Boss why his latest pet got shut down while Justicars made us look like clowns, hmm?"*

<Embek> *"You can tell him yourself. The Feast of the Five Families is in less than a fortnight now, he'll want to know why you're making him look bad by then. Maybe he'll feed ya to one of his pets. In the meantime we have work to do...there's still time to make this right. None of this merc-adventurer bull-dung is gonna mean squat if we can track down Dent before the Feast. This is our shot. If the Boss is being crowned the new Lord of Gotham by the end of the month, no one's gonna give a rats ass about some dead soldiers at Chelsea Motte."*

<Gertrud> *"Oh, that seems very unlikely, my dear. Once Oswald has deposed Lord James, I'm quite sure there won't be a Chelsea Motte anymore. You two scurry along now, make the House proud. I've got to stop by the Gnome Market and head back to the House, Ozzy always enjoys some good pickled marlin after a long day at work."*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whoever Oracle'd been listening to eventually shuffled off, their conversations over. No one else on the boat was having any discussions of particular note. Looking around, she saw that she still hadn't been spotted. But she'd been armed with quite a lot to think about, nonetheless.

----------


## JbeJ275

As the conversation lets out, Oracle burns the last of her serious magic on a casting of Clairvoyance, letting her put a name to this face. then she returns to the others with all the speed she can safely manage.

"OK, I got some news. We put the hurt on some of them, but they're still planning on escalating so we need to keep the pressure up. There was a lady Gertrund there, who described her movements for the next few hours. It seems she reports directly to Cobblepot, might be a good target if we can snag her at the right time. Then there's the plans I turned up, there's the Feast of the Five Families in a week or so apparently, maybe between Cobblepot and his vassal houses, if we can make Cobblepot look weak before or at the event we'd do serious harm to his legitimacy in their eyes, stop him drawing on as many of their resources, it seems like they need Dent there but haven't been able to find him, we could use that to bait a trap or just play to deny them Dent. They believe that would give them a major boost though, to the tune of being able to take over Gotham within the month. 

Oracle goes onto explain the rest of what she overheard and saw, answering any questions she could. She then suggests they return to whichever of thier houses was closest to ensure they were ready to hit the Cobblpots again the following night.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien listens intently, going so far as to insist Oracle recount as much of the conversation verbatim as possible.  He thumps his little fist into his little palm.

"They seemed deferential to her?  And she was calling him Oswald, and Ozzie?  Preparing his dinner for him?  That'll be Lord Cobblepot's mother, for sure.  If we try to abduct her like the Dark Market abducted the Questor, I think we can expect a similarly enraged escalation - and from a man without a scerric of moral fibre to restrain his reprisal.  But it _would_ embarrass and infuriate him, that's for certain."

----------


## JbeJ275

I dont mean to question your instincts for this sort of thing but Im quite sure I remember being dragged to his mothers public funeral in a disgustingly uncomfortable dress as a young girl, shortly before his father passed I think. It could be a previous governess or au pair though? Someone who raised him while his parents ran the family business? Or else a paramour of his.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien blinks once and raises an eyebrow, but doesn't fight for his theory.  He, after all, has not long engaged in the practice of actually learning about the houses and politics of Gotham, rather than simply its institutional weakpoints.

"If you say so, I believe it.  Either way, it's more familiarity to her words than anyone else we've encountered, all of whom seem afraid to be simply executed for failure.  It's funny to think this could all be over as simply as poisoning a jar of pickled marlin."

----------


## Feathersnow

They are afraid, and we have a lead. They are unlikely to try an attempt on St. Cuthbert's Cathedral again.  I can rest knowing we have moved towards fighting the Cobblepots and the Clerics are safe.

----------


## Molan

*== CHAPTER 5: WAR ==*

Kate was strong, and Barbara was light. Thanks to a final burst of psychic power, Kate was able to perch Oracle on her back and activate her _urban strider_ power once they got close to Downtown's rooftops again, bounding across multiple city blocks as effortlessly as a child skipping down a dirt road. When they landed back at Chelsea Motte, the Justicars arranged for one of their carriages to carry Oracle, Questor and Batwoman all back to Midtown.

It was only a couple blocks walk from their drop off to Oracle's townhouse, and, mostly-abandoned as it was, there was plenty of space for Questor and Kate to crash in a spare room while Oracle wearily plodded back to her private study. She flopped down onto her bed amidst a sea of half-open books that were strewn around her, and soon fell into a deep sleep. 

Damien simply hitchhiked his way back to Midtown via a series of carriage roofs unnoticed, until he arrived back near the clocktower. After he finally found his old lair he tossed a fresh cut of meat he'd nicked from a butchers cart (having dropped the prerequisite fistful of copper to cover the "purchase" in it's place) to his dog before collapsing in a tiny heap in his own makeshift bed, blissfully drifting into nothingness.

When dusk finally came, some ten or twelve hours later, Kate's eyes snapped open angrily; the fiendish part of her biology had not slept at all, and she woke with a burning clarity of purpose, her mission still immediately in the forefront of her mind. She found her love already awake, perhaps only a few minutes ahead of her, meditating in one corner, perched only on the toes of her left foot.

*"I never fully understood why you did that."* she whispered in celestial. Of course, that wasn't a literal translation; the heavenly verbiage was more like, "I wish to better understand your truth," but Renee got the gist anyway.

*"It helps me focus,"* she whispered back, also in celestial. *"We aren't all so lucky as to have your discipline."*

Kate found herself smiling in spite of how she felt. Sure, "lucky". Still, coming from Renee she couldn't help but feel warm at the compliment.

***

On Oracle's short desk sat a mildly enchanted hourglass that glowed and hummed when she needed to wake back up and prepare her spells. She begrudgingly rose out of bed, brushing aside various texts to drag herself back onto the floor, and flipped it over again, quieting it. She had given herself enough time to prepare a new batch of magic for the night's shenanigans, whatever they wound up getting themselves into, though as she studied her spellbooks, an ever-lengthening scroll rattling off her to-do list just in her peripheral vision continued to taunt her. Somehow, she needed to find time between now and the Meeting of the Five Families to cross some of these items off and research some new arcana. Among other things.

The three women agreed that, as a matter of operational security and to keep Kate's mind at east, Questor would remain at Oracle's flat, where she'd be relatively safe -- no one had any reason to associate the old Gordon House with Kate Kane, anyway. They needed to track down Damien and then probably head back Downtown, but the easiest way to do that was probably a rendezvous at the dark castle of their new patron.

But when Kate and Barbara stepped outside, they found that Damien had apparently beaten them to it. He sat lounged on his mastiff, with a pair of riding horses idling just nearby.

*"Figured you two could use a lift."* he smirked. *Should we head over to the castle and plot our next course?"*

*"Not sure we need to bother, now that you've provided transportation."* Barbara remarked coolly. 

*"Perhaps, but we're going up against the Cobblepotts now. There hasn't been a single night that's gone by that our list of enemies hasn't gotten worse; we're one slip-up away from being formally at war with every single banker house."*

*"Then what are you suggesting?"*

*"Let's go see if we can't find something at my father's house that won't make this trip a bit more comfortable, eh?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Ooooookay, WHAT a night. Let's see if we can't dish out some rewards.

So, you guys are a bunch of goody two-shoes and have been very lady/gentlemanly-like about looking your beaten enemies. So in the interest of keeping things fair I'm going to award each party member 1,500 GP, which we can assume you acquired from some of your grateful NPCs as quest rewards. However, that is like, one tenth of what you probably normally would have gotten, hence my push to have you go to the batcave so we can spice up your repertoires a bit more.

For experience, you got...a _lot._ It's a lot. I'm a bit nervous about having you all jump from level 6 to level 9 as that sounds outrageous, but if you guys would enjoy a gigantic level spike we can go ahead and kick this adventure into high gear. So, I'm going to put this up for a vote in OOC; If you don't want to shoot up too fast, give yourself each 10,000 experience. That should be enough to knock you into level 8 from level 6. (Thank you Jbe for keeping track of yoru XP total). 

On the other hand, if you wanna get really heavy metal with it, then your actual total is 18,500 experience. 

There _is_ a strong argument to be made that I just have not given you your rewards in a while and it's pretty built up. You also just won a small full scale war battle against a Cobblepott army. So...what do you think?


As the sun set on Gotham, the party rode their steeds out of Midtown and down along the same abandoned bridge out of the city and on their way to Wayne Island. The gloomy gothic keep loomed in the distance like the carcass of a long dead god, and they felt a sense of ominous destiny as they rode alone towards it and away from the millions of people in the city behind them.

But when they arrived, the strange, silent House Wayne footmen that guarded the gate gave absolutely no protest and made no demands as they approached; instead, the wrought iron decorative outer gate was held wide open, and several hooded stable hands were available to collect their horses' reigns when they came just outside the main fortress. 

Inside the grand entryway, Sir Richard was waiting for them, dressed in his usual simple black, nondescript clothing, the blue colored raven crest of House Grayson over his heart. He seemed pleased to see them, despite having clearly expected their arrival. 

*"My Lady!"* he said in a low, casual but welcoming voice, clearly directed at Barbara. *"What a pleasure to see you again. And you've been staying out of trouble, right?"* The second comment was pointed at Damien, who only bristled a little bit at his older ally's prodding.

*"Out of trouble? Not even a little bit. Ever heard of Chelsea Motte?"*

*"Pfft."* Richard replied. *"You mean the one that almost burned down last night?"*

He tossed them the most recent copy of the Gotham Herald; and it was a _doozy._ The top story described a "fight" at Chelsea Motte, accompanied by scores of arrests, images of the city coroner's cart loading in a bunch of covered bodies, and more. Several follow up articles on the front of the scroll clearly showed the Bards were haranguing not only the James' for details of how such chaos could have befallen the city, but also a surprisingly audacious amount of pointed questions being directed at the Big Banks; the implication that the Bards and therefore the rest of the city knew the Cobblepotts were involved couldn't be any louder. 

Damien noticed a couple of other items on the Herald scroll; allegations of another Fools Guild attack against an Arcane Rail crew (might someone just have taken issue with the Bards' extortionate collection racket on the rails? Or something more sinister? The article claimed that the bards' bodies had been displayed in a fairly macabre fashion). There was another article more explicitly describing a now-open investigation against "former convict" Baron Zucco, alleged boss of the Dark Market. The revelations were all fairly shocking -- the Justicars had been far too weak and divided to get that close to Zucco even just last week, and he was one of the city's weaker bosses.

*"Was that you guys?"*

*"We might've been in the area,"* Damien shrugged, trying to sound cool. *But seriously though, where's Pennyworth? We need weapons. Like, a lot of weapons. For completely unrelated reasons, of course."*

*"He is standing right here, ever-awaiting the moment young master Damien might have use of me."* Alfred replied from the shadows just off of the main entryway, sounding sarcastic but still patient.

*"If you've all caught up, might we join Lord Bruce down in the *ahem*...cellar?"*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When they reached the Dark Knight's lair, they found it almost welcoming, despite the ever-present chirping of the bat swarms overhead and the general gloomy nature of the place. Bruce was in the library, pouring over some old city records with a magnifying glass. 

He still looked a bit pallid, but whether it was the flickering of the lamp light or a general change, he seemed to bit a bit livelier than before, a bit less sickly. Perhaps his old wounds were finally beginning to heal.

*"Glad to see you're all back, in one piece. Though, are we missing Ms. Brown?"* he said.

*"She's dealing with some personal matters. We decided to leave her to it."*

*"Well, fair enough,"* Bruce said, casually gesturing to another Herald copy. *"It looks like you all managed to do just fine without her. I'm sorry to have heard about the Temple of St. Cuthbert, cousin. I hope everyone came out okay?"*

Kate merely nodded. 

*"Well enough, for now. We still have some vengeance that needs attending to."*

Bruce smiled, thumbing under the collar of his tunic and revealing a silver sigil of St. Cuthbert around a chain on his neck. 

*"I think I'm at least somewhat familiar with that concept."* he said winkingly. *"In any case, sounds like we need to hammer out our next move...and if I might be so bold, we may want to make some improvements to your repertoires as well. Cousin -- I spoke to Lord Fox and we actually managed to come up with the Dark Crystal we needed for the augmentarium. Looks like we'll be able to actually make some of those upgrades you were looking for. I've also reached into the coffers and picked out a few other toys I think you all might appreciate. For one thing..."*

He reached into his desk and revealed a small obsidian key.

*"The next time you go riding into trouble, you might want to take my carriage instead of the Rails."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay! Time to plan your next operation! Lots of options here. Feel free to provide any special equipment requests to see whether the bat cave can accommodate it, and lay out what you want your next move to be, and I can help set it up.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Gordon Townhouse*

Over an old copper pot of finely brewed imported coffee, a necessary expense after a day like yesterday Barbara served her two guests and began to uncertainly question the new arrival and rescuee. 

This is really the first chance Ive had to talk to you for more than 30 seconds without some maniac with a sword interrupting us, yes Scion does count. She started with a grin. I wanted to check you were okay but I also wanted your help perfecting something Ive been working on, its an arcane replication of a piece of divination magic thats normally considered clerical. The main worry I have hear is that it might be kind of. Skirting the limits of heresy as defined by church law. Im effectively sending magical signatures fooling divine entities into thinking Im one of their accepted clerics and thats tricky. Not to mention they tend not to like it, I dont know how much you know about your own magic but I was hoping I could observe some of your casting and try and fill in the gaps in my own spell creation. What do you say?

*Wayne Manor*

At that Barbara cleared her throat, calling the attention of the rest of the vigilantes there.

"Speaking of riding into battle, I think at this point we need to pick out next target. House Cobblepot is at the head of a complex and multi-faceted organisation that draws i resources from all the corners of the city at once, and has several more significant houses under their control as vassals, we won't be able to take them down alone, not without bleeding this city dry and letting chaos spill into the streets. That's why I want your support on going after Tetch and the Justicars on his payroll we've mentioned earlier. Tetch is powerful but vulnerable as a tool for the Cobblepots, he's one of their only solid links to the arcane side of the city and cutting that tie reduces the Cobblepots ability to identify us magically. Further targetting his Justicar ties through Bullock could open up Midtown as a vastly safer place to operate and deny access to the Cobblepots, let us ensure guys we take in in those districts make it to their sentence without getting sprung. Having the security of Chelsea Motte backing us forced Cobblepot to overreach and let us damage, capture or put to flight some of his greatest assets. Being able to do that over all midtown is too valuable to pass up."

"As for Material needs, would you have access to a scrying mirror? Needs to be about two foot by four foot of finely wrought silver, I finally figured out the magic there but it's useless without the proper focus and all the ones in the mage college tend to be monitored unless you have a bit more pull than I do. Could be of immense help tracking some our more elsuive targets down. There are also a few more magic items I mean to seek out at the College, Arcanist's gloves, or those of Dexterity perhaps."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: At the Townhouse*
Show

Questor sipped her coffee eagerly, her eyes widening as she heard Oracle's proposition.

*"That is an interesting puzzle. The good news is, I actually do think that I can help. I'll warn you now; I've spent my career either working with like minded friends in the shadows or even doing some vigilante work myself; that's a long excuse to wind up and say that I am not the most proficient spellcaster in St. Cuthbert's clergy, by any kind of longshot."* she took another sip of coffee, but continued excitedly.

*"That being said, there is one academic trick I did manage to learn, and I think it'd be of value here. I am able to scribe divine scrolls, which is a fair bit different than what arcanists do, as I understand it, though the result often appears the same. It's harder to translate or understand too, unless you're an accomplished theurge. That said, you've got quite a bit of writing supplies here, I think if we work together I could help you achieve the effect you're looking for. As far as heresy goes...well..."*

She made a sort of stretched, "what are you gonna do?" kind of face, and Kate nearly snorted into her drink from laughter. 

*"I would keep this on the down low, for certain. Even if the Church saw past it the College would probably not be psyched about unsanctioned experimentation. That being said, St. Cuthbert is less discerning. I would need to know only your motives -- why do you seek this power, or this new knowledge? If your aims align with His, then we're in accord. I think if I spend some time showing you how the divine scrivening process works, we might just be able to work out how to achieve the arcane/celestial mix you were looking for. What say you?"*


*Spoiler: In the Bat Cave*
Show

Richard grinned.

*"I think that's a great idea. Better still, I just raided the Tetch's last week. I can help ease your passage...I could even be enticed to join you all for that jaunt, if you like."*

Damien rolled his eyes in a huff, and Alfred just smirked and shook his head, but no one protested.

*"Unless you wanted to gather evidence on your corrupt Justicars first."*

*"I have some tools that I think will help you, on a few fronts."* Bruce said, getting out of his chair. *"Follow me."*

Bruce led the party into the Cave's armory. Just pass the intimidating suit of black mithril Dark Knight armor they'd seen the first time they visited, they found themselves in an incredible looking room with an open, cage like ceiling and walls, filled with ornate, intricate iron fixtures, upon which sat all manner of racks, tables, and hooks. Upon those, was a dizzying array of armor and weaponry.

On one table, Oracle spotted them; Gloves. There were probably between eight or twelve different sets; She could see Gloves of Dexterity in at least three different sizes, though she'd hoped the power of the transmutation enchantments on them would have been a bit stronger. But in addition to several other assorted gloves and gauntlets, she saw another catch find; sleek blue, bearing tiny golden stars across the knuckles, was a pair of arcanist's gloves. It was almost like Bruce had been waiting for them.

*"I've got the mirror,"* he continued. *"Alfred, do would you mind running upstairs and fetching what Lady Gordon asked for?"*

*"Oh yes sir,"* he said curtly. *"Sure we ought to have something in the east wing that'd suit her purposes."*

*"That being said, I wanted to give you something else, as well."* said Bruce. He produced a book from one of the tables, and she could see a powerful mix of Divination and Transmutation enchantments on it. *"This is expensive; I typically need to have Fox pull strings with the college whenever I need a new one. And it's fickle too. But if you're going to hunt down corrupt Justicars, I suggest you take it."*

The book, as it turned out, was packed full of surprises. Inside it's thick cover was inlaid a pair of goggles. They looked like the kind of high-quality, technical-yet-arcane piece of outerwear that gnome arcanists were fond of conjuring. On the right side of the goggles was a single Rune, which Oracle vaguely remembered from her time as an apprentice. Bruce explained that if she tapped the rune while she was wearing the goggles, one page in the book would be painted with a nearly perfect image of whatever it was she was looking at. The trick was, the book only had 20 pages before it was spent, and the goggles only had enough juice stored up to record a maximum of five images per day. Still, if they wound up needing evidence of corruption and struggled for witnesses, this might just do thie trick.

*"Try not to use it near any graveyards, though. I guess."*

*"Why's that?"*

*"They seem like they sometimes function to capture images of the spirit world, too. Or maybe it's the Plane of Shadow or the Ethereal Plane, I don't know. I just know I opened it up one time to find a bunch of horrific screaming faces staring back at me from the painting on the page. Nearly had a heart attack."*

The quip was good for a laugh, if a faint one. Oracle'd spent enough time with Bruce already, and heard enough rumors about the Dark Knight, to know he probably didn't actually feel fear, at all. Still, it was good advice.

*"Have you had any time to scribe the spells from the book I gave you?"* he asked. *"I might be able to scrounge up some extra scrolls if you're trying to fill holes in your inventory."*

He looked down at Damien. *"What about you then? I think you're due for an upgrade, wouldn't you say?"* he shared the same sentiment with Kate. *"Cousin? Anything catch your eye?"*

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: At The Townhouse*
Show


"Ooh, okay that's a relief. Yeah, as for motives I'm sure Kate has told you something of what out project here is, to try and clear out this city. Get many of the corrupt powerbrokers out and get responsible people in such a position as to use the city's wealth to look after its people rather than just hoard it away. That means a lot of things, it means tracking people down and it means fighting but there are a lot of disparate things we'll need to try and pull off, or things none of us could every really do unaided and when this is all over I'll need a whole new set of skills to lead... well to help those who'd then keep the peace in the city. Being able to draw on the insights of the divine is about the only way I can hope o cover that, and I need to keep advancing my arcane studies if we're going to win fights like the one a Chelsea Motte, far as I can see this is the best path forward."

With that said if you approve of all that, I have some diagrams of the arcane end of this, I was wondering if you could see where it overlaps and differs from divine matrix elements..." Oracle said, slowly building into a long explorative spiel as she explained and attempted to complete her research into an Arcane for of the Divine Insight spell.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Townhouse*
Show

Oracle and Questor spent a good hour and and a half pouring over each others' notes. To gain insight into divine mysticism, Renee opened the Book of St. Cuthbert, walking Barbara through the relevant passages containing the right types of prayers and sacraments required to access her god's favor. It was tough -- like two people who spoke different languages trying to find common root words -- but eventually Barbara began to understand some of the patterns and differences between their arts.

In a lot of ways, she could clearly see why so few arcanists ever chose this type of path. Managing divine power was like managing arcane power, but in reverse. Whereas the laws of arcana required a competent mage to tightly control the raging powers seeking to overtake them from the aether. Celestial communion was the opposite; the divine energy required was omnipresent, a part of her; the cleric sought to open herself to it, and let it flow through her.

Questor went over a few simple prayers and walked her through the most basic ceremony, which allowed her to center divine energy and then begin to transcribe the canticle she was looking for. Her work was rough, but the overlap was finally beginning to reveal itself; Oracle painstakingly drew lines of binding across her page using arcane inks and instruments, tying together sigils of divination with the holy marks of St. Cuthbert. Just when she thought she'd spoiled the entire specially-made scroll sheet, she managed to sort of _yank_ her pen off of the page, and the lines scrawled across it suddenly and violently burst in a flash of light -- Oracle was sure she'd botched the process and winced for the inevitable fallout. But it never came; the nausea-inducing energy subsided, and the swirling lines started glowing a tamer blue, only occasionally crackling or flickering with partially loosed power. It wasn't her greatest work -- it probably ranked among her worst, since the College -- but it had _worked._

Questor looked over her shoulder, whistling quietly and taking a fresh sip of coffee from a mug Kate'd refreshed for her. The scroll Oracle had written was vastly busier, more confusing and moore ornate than anything she'd done previously -- the lines crisscrossing it looked like the work of a madwoman, and yet they had a strange otherworldly beauty, something unspeakable yet awesome, almost like the marks created a three-dimensional image that transcended the page.

*"Well..."* Oracle breathed, clearly in awe. As far as spellcasting went, Barbara was still much more a wizard than Oracle was a cleric. *"Would you look at that. I think you're onto something, here."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

> He looked down at Damien. *"What about you then? I think you're due for an upgrade, wouldn't you say?"*



"I could certainly make use of specialized gear.  An ensorcelled weapon that doesn't belch blue sparks would play to my strengths.  But more than that, I need something that will assist me striking the weakpoints of some of the more severe abominations we encounter.  I have a handful of potions that will assist that effort like for the ghost back in the Vaults, but against an opponent like Grundy, whose physiology is less blood and organs and more indecipherable nexi of magical knots, I can do next to nothing.  Not directly, anyway.  Everything has weakpoints; but my.. training has not permitted me to exploit those on the walking dead, or that which was never truly alive."  He stalks, pulling his shoulders up as he leans over a railing within the cave; his talent for brooding coming along nicely.

"Tetch certainly has it coming; but as important as rebuking the various tendrils of Gotham's corruption indeed is, I fear we are forgetting that the monstrosity is out there - perhaps slaking its bloodthirst on a herd of deer outside of town, right now.  Perhaps tearing apart a family who cannot afford somewhere to hide.  We are making good progress - but all out moves need to be doing double-duty of thwarting the city's corruption, and bringing us closer to unlocking the Codex."

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle gives a small shy smile barely visible behind the mask when Richard makes the offer.

"I'd be delighted to have you join me... us rather when we hit Tetch, though you're right that we'll have to do at least a little more information gathering first. I'll reach out to you once we're ready to approach it."

She's a little colder in her interactions with Bruce, gratefully accepting the book and googles, and thanking him as she put them away. Then fumbling through an awkward semi-apology that she hadn't had any time to read any more than the spell designations of the Wayne spellbook. She stays a little quieter as Damien speaks but voices bach up when he finishes. 

"Well we know the Cobblepots need to get Dent in hand before the meeting of the five families, presumably becase he wants to show Dent off there or has promised the others Dent will be in his power by then, it's what's enforcing the deadline. The Tetch's are one of the most closely aligned families to the Cobblepots, so interrogating some of them would give us insight into the meeting of the five families and maybe let us track down Dent with infformation from both sides together. Alternatively, if we want to try for Dent I've finally figured out scrying. If his resistance isn't up to snuff I could try and locate him based on that."

----------


## Feathersnow

Seeing to her beloved, Kate returns to her cousin and asks to see research. 

There is a rite of passage among my kind of fighter. We are called _Gish_. Those who use the mind as a weapon in conjuction with more actual weapons.   I am considered odd among my discipline for wearing armor, but it was a necessity that I make work.  And _Gish_ believe in results.  It is martial art for soldiers, not monks or craftsmen like your son.

But, to be recognized as a master of my discipline, I must kill a very specific kind of creature.  It is called a Mind Flayer.  I think I am ready to begin the Rite of Rrakma, but these creatures are rare and illusive.  Perhaps you have heard of one.

----------


## Molan

When Damien mentioned The Monster, the armory got a little quieter, and Bruce and Richard both exchanged troubled glances.

*"Well, you're not wrong."* Bruce admitted. *"We need to find that Codex."*

*"Have their been any sightings since the Vaults?"* Richard asked quietly.

*"None that I'm aware of. But that thing's not going to ever rest; and without the use of the Codex none of us stand a chance against it...even me."* That last part seemed hard for him to admit, but the Waynes seemed desperate, desperate enough even to swallow their egos. 

*"That being said, I think I've got some alternatives for you."*

He led Damien over to one of the tables in the armory where an array of unpleasant looking sharp objects were layed out in neat rows. One of the objects he picked up had a strange, two-sided curved shape to it, and was barely larger than one of Damien's shuriken.

*"You remember my batarang, right?"* he said, causing Damien's eyes to open up wide. *"Well, after you and the others returned the Ship Captain's daughter from South Channel Island, Alfred got to work on this. Tell me what you think."*

Damien took the curved, avian looking object from Bruce and twirled around, unleashing it across the room, where it landed square in the neck of one of the armor mannequins inside. 

*"Hold out your hand."* said Bruce. Damien did as he was instructed, and after twitching for a moment, the bladed throwing weapon dislodged itself and flew back across the room just as fast, reappearing in Damien's palm. *"I've got this here for you, as well."*

The second object was essentially a very large knife, though in Damien's hands it looked more like a short sword. It was made of cool, matte black steel and had several subtle runes etched near the base of the hilt. Unlike the crackling black market weapon he'd been packing, this one was much more subtle, yet Oracle could detect it's magic aura from across the room.

*Spoiler: Damien's New Batcave Wargear*
Show

*1.* _The "Birdarang"_, Shuriken of Returning +2.
*2.* _"Scion's Shadow"_, (small) Shortsword of Deadly Precision +2.


*"We also stocked out the Poison Cabinet a bit more. I added Goodbye Kiss,  Gorgon's Hair, Salvo, Slow Death and Zealot's Blade. we haven't been able to work the lab full time, so I've only got a couple of doses of each, but feel free to grab anything that catches your eye. We've got deeper stores of some of the more common toxins."*

Finally, Bruce also handed Damien a _Listening Cone_, to help with stealthier investigations, before turning back to Kate.

*"That's...interesting, actually."* he said. *"Please, come with me."*

Kate and Bruce returned to the archive they'd met him in when they'd first arrived. He began shuffling around through some of the records and old Gotham Herald copies he had inside, until eventually he found what he was looking for.

*"Here, have a look. What do you see?"*

The direction he'd pointed her to was clear enough. The Herald article detailed several grizzly murders Uptown in Channel Park, near the Hell's Kitchen Slums. Several bodies had been found -- not unusual for Channel Park -- but they were unique in and of that their brains appeared to have been violently removed. Accompanying the Herald article was a scroll -- how Bruce got his hands on it, Kate dared not ask -- that contained a Justicar's report of the crime scene. The Bloodhound investigating the incident stood out for two reasons. One, he'd determined quite forcefully that the murders were not arcane in nature (a category of crime people in Gotham were incredible sensitive too) but were instead the fault of an Aberration. Second, the Bloodhound's name: Harvey Bullock.

*"The corrupt half-orc thinks he's found a Flayer in Gotham?"*

*"Psionics are generally not well regarded in Gotham, or the Empire. I certainly don't need to tell you that. A psionic alien? That'd make a pretty compelling villain. But the injuries seem pretty much on the nose. The key is, he's not the only one."*

He then produced two additional scrolls, dated more than a year after the (unsolved) Channel Park murders. They were city records of an official Court Meeting at the Black Tower, the seat of House James. Houses Crane and Isley had, on two separate occasions, found similar murders on their land out in the Farm Lords' Pastures, and they'd furiously demanded that House James and the Justicars do something about it. Some basic promises were made, but it was clear nothing had come of it. The James didn't seem to like the Farm Lords very much, but the feeling was largely mutual. Bruce handed her yet another document -- the Cranes had also complained to the College, of which both they and the James' were high ranking members. That inquiry seemed to have gone a bit further; the College had actually dispatched a team of specialists to address the issue.

*"Did they find what they were looking for?"* Kate said, asking the most obvious question based on the evidence Bruce'd laid out. 

*"Unfortunately, I have no idea."* said Bruce. *"There's no records that I've been able to get my hands on that would indicate what the College's task force actually did or found during their investigation. It's like the entire matter has been sealed, though by whom and for what purpose, I can't say."*

*"You think the College is hiding something."* Bruce laughed. *"I think we can safely assume that the College is always hiding something. But I think the broader point is, if they'd have found and destroyed their target, there'd probably be some record of it, given the animosity between the College and the world of psionics. I think whatever killed those people is still out there. And it's not that giant bat monster either -- the victims weren't eviscerated, they were lobotomized."*

Kate sucked in some air over her teeth, deciding on her course of action. *"So there very may well be a Mind Flayer in Gotham. We just have no idea where it is, and thanks to the College, no leads either."*

*"Well, not exactly no leads."* Bruce said. Kate raised her eyebrows, expectant.

*"I had been investigating this myself, until the other monster showed up and I got wounded. I was chasing more than one crisis at the time, so it took me a bit longer to unravel this one than I would have liked. Still, there was one thing that stood out. I interrogated potential witnesses near each murder scene. Mostly homeless people from Hell's Kitchen and peasants from the Farmlands. None of them knew what'd happened, but all of them happened to mention a traveling casino."*

*"A casino?"*

*"Yea, rolled in like a week before the murders, best I can tell. Hard to imagine it's a complete coincidence. No one else I've talked to in Gotham has heard anything about it; just a large colorful tent, shows up near parks, fairs and carnivals, hangs around for a while letting people bet, then leaves. Seems strange that the only people who've ever seen the tent happened to do so right near the sight of very specific, grizzly murders. No way that's a coincidence."*

*"Okay, so. Find the traveling casino, find the Illithid?"*

*"It's possible."*

*"Uh, did you guys mention a tent casino?"*

Kate and Bruce both turned around to see Damien had silently appeared in the doorway of the archive.

*"Why?"* Bruce asked. *"Have you seen something?*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"We might not know where it is, but we know where it last was - South Channel Island.  I snuck into the tent when we were looking for leads on Lord Nigma.  I noted a purple haired elf with golden eyes running the establishment with a sense of smarm I had mistaken for simply _elven_, and some elven staff that seemed... listless and obedient, barely conversational.  And a muscular elven enforcer, with green hair.  The hair was striking and memorable, in both cases.  But if this was illusion...  Given this revelation, we must conclude they were enthralled - and must speculate that the showrunner was your now-quarry in disguise.  I suppose it makes for a subtle enough trap, for a cerebrovore - run an operation that attracts powerful risktakers on one hand, whose thoughts must be filled with useful secrets... and also the most desperate and destitute, who are likely to be unmissed when they are taken.  Sloppy for them to leave the bodies, though - not a habit one expects of an especially cunning killer.  But when we asked about that operation, the elves of the island seemed to have no affiliation with the tent's operators and no thoughts about where it had vanished."

He leans against the doorframe and taps his chin as he tries to recall everything he can about the tent.  Four tables.  No uniformity to the attendees.  Conversation about how the tent just popped up from nowhere...

"An ogre, too.  Security, like the green haired elf.  Damn... Wish I'd taken something from there at the time... but if we go back to the site, even though the tent is gone, we might get lucky and find something - litter, or a tent peg, or something - that is part of the operation and is useful for Oracle's scrying.  Which reminds me..."

He turns to the diviner, narrowing his eyes in what might first be mistaken as accusation, but is in fact the scrutiny of an operator trying to take measure of a tool.  If Oracle's strength had been a magic sword, his eyes would have narrowed there.  Since her talents lay locked within her mind, his interest is, briefly, mildly dehumanising to receive.

"I don't understand the full extent of your scrying talents.  But such things often require tokens to succeed, yes?  Personal belongings, locks of hair, drops of blood?  If you can assemble for me a list of names, and a rundown of what might be useful in the way of reagents for your castings, we can begin assembling a... _catalogue_, of sorts."

----------


## JbeJ275

"You have the basics of it right. Blood hair or nails is most useful, but a possession they saw as theirs or failing that an honest recreation of their image will still be worthwhile. There's also a question of familiarity, I've had the misfortune to meet most of those with the colour of nobility at one formal event or another, but I'll have greater trouble scrying on their underlings if I've only heard of them second hand and greater ease scrying on anyone I grow truly familiar with. There's another spell too, which can be used to give the exact location of a creature, and it synergises well with this one, allowing them to be found quickly, though through a lot of powerful magic. There are a few further issues though, it can be warded against by sufficiently paranoid casters and those with strong wills will always be able to try and fight off certain mind tracking elements of it which it requires to give a location. Safely empowering the mirror can take up to an hour, and the magic burns out prior pathways, if they repel it, I won't be able to attempt further scrying on them for as much as 24 hours."

She breathed a little after this, slowly recentring herself and shooting a brief look at Kate. 

"There are other spells that go well with it, one I learned earlier today that could let me do better in terms of getting a location on a person from the background around them, but they are mostly secondary. That said, if we have targets I can begin very soon, or else we can each pursue whatever mission we just brought forth, and I'll allow each of you to claim a target for one of my first scrying spells."

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien considers their options.  He might be mistaken for being distracted, as he spends a while whipping the birdarang around rolling through some katas with the new blade.  Finally, he puts them away.

"These are excellent, father.  Pennyworth has outdone himself."

It's not quite a _thank you_, but it's near enough kin.  Then he's back on topic, as if his childish interim shadow-dueling hadn't occured.

"Grayson has already laid much of the foundation for us to go after Tetch.  If we can catch him off guard quickly, that's one leg taken out from under our enemy quickly.  Scrying on Tetch seems like an excellent first move.  As far as information about the Cobblepots, we're fortunate enough to have two of their clerics in the custody of the Justicars right now - conventional secret-extraction might be sufficient for them.  But if Kane requires the death of this brain-eater, I can't imagine a worthier brief distraction - one that saves the brains of the innocent and promotes an ally's skill.  Tetch, I think, but also if you can, the mindflayer.  It might be harder to find than that.. but if we get lucky, you will have saved us the trouble of tracking it much more slowly and afforded us a chance to ambush and slay it."

----------


## JbeJ275

Perhaps the ogre instead of the illithid. More intelligent creatures often resist scrying more forcefully and finding the carnival lets us make a good start. Id rather use the good Sir Grayson list of corrupt names as an initial avenue of attack on Bullock and Tetch, though Ill keep the option of scrying in the back pocket there, and youre right about the clerics. Hopefully, Flamebrand sees fit to pass on anything he learns from them.  

With this Oracle began making preparations to scry on the ogre described by Damien.

----------


## Molan

Alfred returned downstairs with a large silver mirror, just as Oracle had requested; it looked lavishly expensive, wrought ornately with the same grim motifs of Gotham and House Wayne that they'd become so accustomed to seeing.

*"Before you begin,"* Bruce said. *"I might make one other suggestion that could help."*

He brought them to a plinth that stood across a metal bridge near the outer edge of the complex inside the cave. The plinth was sort of out in space, away from the rest of the compound, sitting over a black lake of water, looking out at the waterfall cascading down the north side of the island, occasionally graced by visitors who flitted past from their perches up above. The plinth was decorated with the arcane runes demarking a ritual circle. A desk sat at the end facing the waterfall, clearly used for casting and researching arcana in ideal conditions, and short, metal walls were erected around the north side which hung at various points key Herald articles, pictures of villains the Dark Knight had faced, and pieces of research and arcana. In the center of the plinth was a crystal ball, though it's interior was filled with a strange black cloud.

*"Wait...does...does this work?"* Oracle asked, flabbergasted. 

*"The ritual circle does, the Ball...not so much, I'm afraid."* Bruce replied. *"Like a lot of the facilities down here, it's had a rough year. I haven't been able to repair most of the divination equipment here, but the circle is still quite strong. Fox had wizards loyal to the Merchants' Guild install it years ago."*

*"So Fox...knows? About you?"*

*"He does, though he's been kind enough to stay quiet about it."*

It wasn't a huge shock; the party'd more or less guessed Fox's complicity in House Wayne's comings and goings previously, but it was still interesting to hear it out loud; their relationship wasn't purely mercantile or philanthropic.

*"Long story short, you should cast your spell here."* Alfred carefully placed the mirror in the open space between the metal walls with the clippings and pictures, rounding out the ensemble, and allowing Oracle a perfect Diviner's Lab. *"This seeing site will enhance your divination magic and make the process easier. With any luck, your target will be weak willed, and we can overcome your lack of familiarity."*

With all of that said, Oracle sat down, cross-legged on the stool provided, and began to cast. The divination runes along the plinth lit up white as she began to summon arcane magic to herself, and her eyes glowed white back at her in the mirror as she gathered the necessary energy. The rest of the party stood back, on the other side of the plinth, outside of the circle while she worked.

**************************************************  *************************
_The green-haired bouncer near the door cackled, goading her on.

"C'mon Mirv, give the little man a shot."

The other patrons inside the casino all chortled and heckled as well, pressing her. In front of the Ogre was a fairly big looking man, with thick arms and a round gut, and a long, unkempt beard. He was drunk.

"I ain't afraid a' ya. I w'as in the Second Legion! I'll wrestle a bear!"

"I'm an Ogre." "Mirv" shot back, underscoring the obvious. 

"C'mon now, ya scared? I wager twenty silver on ya."

It was a massive bet for a normal citizen of Gotham. If the man even had 20 silver, it was likely all he had. But his audacity egged the crowd in the casino on. Bets began pouring in. The pot eclipsed a gold piece, then ten gold pieces. Then it kept going. Some of the visitors in the tent casino were dressed as nobles, and they were betting like it too.

"Are you sure?" Mirv gave the big man one last chance to back out.

"Do yer worst." he said, sitting down at a table in front of her, his arm outstretched, and his elbow planted firmly on the table's surface.

Mirv sighed.

"Alright..."

It was one of the shortest arm wresting contests Barbara had ever witnessed. The man was strong, there was no doubt about it. But the entire proposal was preposterous. The ogre was more than twice his size, and she had no problem eventually laying his hand flat down on the table...though she seemed to let it drag out at first, for suspense. The tent erupted into howls; some of misery, others of laughter. Mirv let out a throaty chortle. 

"Pay up, ya dogs!"

But her gaze caught the eye of her purple-haired colleague tending bar just across the tent. The bartender had a thin, unpleasant looking smile, his golden eyes dead and expressionless. The ogre stopped laughing, and stopped grinning too, eventually collecting up the house's winnings and returning to her post, overseeing the rest of the night's entertainment.

At some point, the bouncer called her attention again.

"Mirv, I heard something outside, can you check it out?"

Mirv eagerly exited the tent, seeming more than happy to take a lap outside. This gave Oracle a better view of her surroundings, though the Scrying spell's sensor was limited in range. There was lots of debris and trash on the ground, and Barbara noticed...was that a flyer? The Ogre walked further away from the tent casino, and eventually Barbara noticed a string running along the ground under her feet. Tied to the string were a series of colorful banners, each depicting the face of a fool with various bizarre expressions on their faces. Then, the scrying sensor's perimeter happened to encapsulate a colorful building she was moving past -- or was it a tent? It wasn't the same tent as the Casino, she was sure of it.

The Ogre stopped, frowned, shook her head and turned back the other way, conferring with the bouncer once she got back inside the Casino.

"It's those god's damned cultists again." She grumbled.

The bouncer snickered.

"Oh, come now, are we sure it's a cult? I'm sure it's a perfectly legitimate peasants' religion, they just happen to be meeting in an abandoned Carnival Ground on the most haunted island in Gotham."

"They freak me out." Mirv grumbled. "We shouldn't have spent more than one night on this island."

They whispered so the rowdy and drunk patrons couldn't hear them, but very little of what the ogre did was "inconspicuous."

"I know, I know. But you know how much Hypo loves the elves. Don't worry, this will be our last night here. We'll let him have the last of his fun and we'll go visit Sandy Hook tomorrow. Sound good?"_
**************************************************  *************************

Oracle turned to the rest of the party.

*"Well,"* she said. *"I've got good news and bad news."*

----------


## JbeJ275

"Right now, they're in the Carnival grounds, hiding out there but they're clashing with cultists of some sort. That place is gonna be a nightmare to hit, it's a maze, it's totally unknown and the cultists would go for us as likely as them. Tomorrow they're moving to Sandy Hook, something to do with Hypo and elves. That means either forming a procession where they're strung out and vulnerable or more likely taking a ship. If Fox still has an in with any of the local harbourmasters he might be able to help us identify why they're going through, and we can hit them in transit, while they're off guard and won't be able to go for cover as easily."

After only very minor prompting Barbara relays the full content of the divination, but maintains her position in favour of striking as they move.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Works for me.  But then, I'm not our resident illithid huntress."  He eyes the Dame sidelong, counting on her yay or nay.

----------


## Feathersnow

The Rite of Rrakma can take years, and most _Gish_ live and die without even seeing one of The Enemy.  You have done me a great service this night. 

That said, it will probably be best to hit the creature while it moves, I agree.

----------


## JbeJ275

"Kate you're welcome, I know in as bloody a line of work as we do there's not often munch time for sentimentality, for real trust behind masks and real honesty in a city that often hunts the good fiercest of all. But you've stood in between me and the worst this city has to offer, you've been brave and true and probably saved my life a dozen times over. Doing something like this is the least I can do, and I'm glad we've helped you on your journey here."

With that Barbara went about her preparations, trying to identify the ship the carnival would be sailing on and then making her first attempt to copy a spell from the Wayne spellbook to her own.

----------


## MrAbdiel

For a moment, Damien watches Kate and Barbara before detecting (a moment after it would have been clear to anyone else) that this is a moment between the two of them.  They - and Spoiler, for that matter - were the crew that kicked off this war with their daring heroics.  They were warriors, yes; but they were also... what?

Friends?

The assassin-child turns away and detaches from the scene before Barbara is finished speaking.  He has his own rituals and preparations, best sought alone; and thus, he makes himself to be alone on the cold ascent back to the manor proper.  He is the Son of Batman.  The Grandson of the Demon's Head.  He is the Spear of Infinity, hurled mercilessly into the heart of evil: the greed of dwarves, the pride of elves, the ceaseless corruption of men.  Sipping down another gut-vicing ampule of Phase-Spider venom, he winces and hisses at the revolt of his body against it.

_I am the master of my blood.  I am the master of my blood.  I am the master of my blood!_

He needs to do something to suppress the pain.  Distraction to another focus.  He'd stalk streets by daylight, and rooves by night.  Spears, after all, need targets.  Weapons do not need friends.







Friends are stupid, anyway.

*Spoiler: Damien's Downtime*
Show

If there's most of a day left to burn, while Oracle gets her Scry-on, Scion will get his Spy-on.  He's interested, certainly, in recovering the other portions of the sending amulet-thing that apparently are in Selina Kyle's possession.  Also, I wouldn't mind working towards some kind of confrontation with her just because I think it'll be funny if she ever figures out Damien is Bruce's son and gets haughty and territorial.  Set up a "on two dates at once" gag for Bruce if Talia ever comes into view in the game.  So I guess that's going to involve trying to locate and perhaps some day infiltrate House Kyle.

So Damien's going to follow up on the only rumors he has - the publically available ones.  He'll scruffle his hair and don some shabby clothes, leave all his ninja kit at home (taking only a dagger, sling and stones, a wooden bowl, and his Glove of the Poisoner which he can easily conceal); and he'll spend whatever hours he has bumming around the Narrows, gravitating to other groups of street youths, with the hopes that he'll end up in the midst of some who are criminally affiliated. That'll be a good start.

Disguise attempt, to make himself look street urchiny, only changing minor details: (1d20+5)[*17*].  Takes (1d3)[*2*] times 10 minutes.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show



Damien Wayne walked through the winding, spindling streets of The Narrows, after having sent Titus off to his clocktower before crossing the East Gotham Bridge. His hair was tussled, and he was draped in a ragged, dirty cloak, a common spun tunic and worn shoes to boot. In the Narrows, though, he was practically overdressed. The "streets" were better described as semi-solid rivers of mud and other...substances, and children, wild dogs and all other manner of animal crawled through the back alleys and along the roads cutting through the narrows from north to south. The children around him were dressed in literal rags; he saw more than a few girls wearing potato sacks with holes for dresses, boys with torn breaches and nothing else, and worse. Very few of anyone he saw wore shoes, though some of the kids had their feet wrapped in some kind of muddy cloth scraps.

Every so often in the narrows, a heavy merchant or noble carriage would barrel through the bigger streets, rushing between Midtown and Downtown Gotham, and they always did their best to avoid contact with any of the residents of the slums, often sending shooting splashes of mud over any pedestrians nearby who weren't quick enough to avoid them. The carriages added a strange air of desperation to the place Damien had rarely experienced -- even in the middle of the Narrows, the moneyed class of the city did everything they could to avoid looking at it.

Eventually though, the scenery began to slowly shift from being purely depressing to at least slightly interesting. The thing was, _most_ Gotham residents who needed to cross between Down and Midtowns still had to actually go on foot, and there were plenty of people from Fort Clinton and the poorer parts of West Hill who actually knew people in the Narrows or had family there. The result was that there was still plenty of people who were milling through the place who had coin in their pockets, something the Narrows Rogues were keen to take advantage of. Sitting on the balls of his feet atop an old barrel, his hood drawn up over his face, Damien noticed a trio of street toughs, covered in vicious looking and profane tattoos cornered a couple of common looking half orcs on the street, brandishing knives and spewing a tirade of threats and profanity. Damien watched the mugging with a tight feeling in his throat -- he was here for information, and muggings like these happened every day. Still, it went against every fiber of his being not to do something. The half orcs resolved their plight mostly diplomatically, though they were clearly traumatized, they gave the rogues what they wanted and fled with their lives intact. As the men divvied up the spoils, another carriage began to barrel down the street. Every, _every_ so often, those carriages belonged to actual Justicars, and the thugs scattered, moving in three separate directions; north, south, and down an alley. Damien waited for the carriage to pass, before his pride and anger got the better of him. He hopped off of his barrel and chased down the alley after the third thug.

At the other end of the alley was a T-intersection, created by the presence of simply more buildings jammed up against the one the thug was running between. Damien stalked him at almost a full run while making very little noise -- the thug's footfalls were heavy plods by comparison. Once he got to the end of the alleyway, he found himself in a shaft of moonlight, and took a moment to catch his breath, laugh, pocket the money and pull out a cigar full of devilweed to celebrate.

Damien crouched behind a nearby empty crate, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, when there was a noise just above the thug. It almost sounded like the mewling of a cat. The thief looked around, then disregarded whatev;er he'd heard as mere background noise. The cat plopped down loudly on some water-covered barrels next to the thug a moment later, causing him to start and curse and nearly drop his joint. The little feral feline hissed before jumping a nearby wooden fence and disappearing. 

_That was odd._ Damien thought to himself.

*"Fuggin' back alley piece of dung cats..."* the thief hissed.

But then, from somewhere up above them both, a small voice called out. *"That's not a very nice way to talk about mittens."* it called out.

This time, the rogue _did_ drop his devilweed. He drew his long dagger back out, and this time Damien could clearly see the poisoned-knife tattoo on the inside of the thug's left bicep, marking him as a member of the reviled Narrows Rogues.

*"You little fuggin' bastards just picked the wrong day to piss me off,"* he snarled. *"C'mon out here and I'll put you in your rotten little place."*

*"If you want."* Replied the small voice.

Everything that happened next happened very fast. One of the smallest children Damien had ever seen -- which he'd only later realize was a halfling child -- dropped down from one of the overhead laundry lines without making a sound, directly behind the thug. He picked the ill-gotten money off of the cutthroat before he could so much as flinch, then rolled away behind some nearby trash, unseen. The thug whirled around, but another, taller thief -- this one about Damien's height, and a girl -- dropped down and grabbed his original money purse.

But the third figure to appear was more or less a grown woman. She still wasn't especially tall, for a human, but she managed to slam the back of the thug's head with the sap she was carrying with incredible force as she landed, taking him by surprise and knocking him completely out cold.

The thug fell to the ground with a tremendous splash of mud, unconcious. The three thieves assembled and took everything he had except his shirt and breaches, includling his knife.

*"That was fun!"* the little halfling chirped.

*"Come now,* said the woman. *"Let's go back home. We can show what we found to Lady Kyle when she gets in."*

*"Okay!"* the two chimed simultaneously. 

They each began to rapidly scale the debris around them, then up the old worn sides of the nearby buildings before reaching additional laundry wires and hopping their way up the warren towards the rooftops. Even to Damien, it seemed like an incredible feet of agility. The woman took one last chance to look down on their "victim" with disgust.

*"Maybe when you wake up, you'll remind your buddies that these are our streets now."* And with that, she lept into action, eventually making the laundry lines and following her two little larcenous proteges up towards the rooftops.

*"Well damn,"* Damien thought to himself. *"'Kyle.' That's got to be as good a clue as any."*

With that, he sprang into action, determined to follow the little thieves back to their lair. His first order of business -- figuring out how to catch up with them.


*Spoiler: In the Batcave*
Show

Oracle enjoyed her time using the Waynes' resources, taking her time to enscribe a new spell into her book, which went so smoothly she felt almost serene and calmed by it. But as she worked, her mind drifted further afield. 

As it turned out, she didn't know exactly _how_ the illithid and it's little casino band would travel, but she had a strong suspicion she knew how to find out, something Bruce Wayne's suspiciously complete city archives and library were able to assist her with. She happened to know for a fact that any ship over a certain tonnage had to keep strictly controlled records with the lords of the city, various mercantile interest _and_ the imperial navy. Essentially, large boats were all incredibly conspicuous and hard to anonymise. Smaller vessels, however, simply reported their own names when they pulled into the docks and these dock ledgers usually weren't compiled centrally.

At least, that's how it worked in most ports in the Empire. However, as a low ranking College member, she was aware that in Gotham, things were different. The magic industry was heavily regulated and controlled by the college and the highest ranking Houses in Gotham; these days, that principally meant the James', Nigma's, Tetch's, Lynns' and Fries', along with some other more minor stakeholders. In order to ensure that _nothing_ could get through their strict guild-aligned embargoes -- essentially, preventing anyone from creating a legal secondary market to export arcana -- the dock ledgers at ever dock were kept on magically enchanted plinths which recorded everything that was written in them. Once a ledger was full, whoever was running the dock did...whatever they wanted with it, usually storing or destroying the old mooring logs. But that didn't matter, because the College's School of Arcana Enforcement maintained a specially modified _spellpool,_ which in normal circumstances was a powerful reservoir of magic that high ranking college members could use. However the SAE's "pool" didn't keep arcane secrets; it kept commercial ones instead. And anyone who had access to a _linked ledger_ could read what was in it, and look for patterns.

*"Don't suppose there's any chance you have a linked ledger down here, do you?"* she asked Bruce politely.

Bruce smiled.

*"What, the House that governed the Wizard's College for hundreds of years? How ever would I have my hands on something like that?"*

As he spoke, Bruce reached up and removed a black slate from one of the shelves, leaning a bit on his cane as he did so. He didn't seem to need it as much as they first time they'd met, but he wasn't completely healed either. He handed it to Oracle and watched as she waived her hand and summoned the correct rune to activate the arcane markings on the ledger's face.

*"What exactly are you looking for, might I ask?"*

*"Well,"* Barbara said, half answering and half focused on her task, *"Kate wants to track down this suspected Illithid that's been running that carnival you've been chasing. My scrying spell revealed that they're still on South Channel Island, and they're getting ready to move. I think they might have stayed longer -- they implied one of them has an...'affection' for elves...but there's some 'cult' or some such group in an old carnival ground on SCI that seems to have them a bit spooked. Their 'doorman' suggested they'd sail to Sandy Hook next."*

Bruce's expression darkened.

*"The abandoned carnival grounds? Did you see it?"*

*"Not really, just the side of a tent,"* she said casually, still focused on her work. *"But in any case, if I can get a sense for what kind of boat ferried them to SCI, with your divination chamber, I'd bet I could probably manage to find it again. Which will give us a moving, vulnerable target between Uptown and Sandy Hook. That's when we can hit them."*

*"Okay...fine."* Bruce said, moving past his earlier question. *"But how are you going to figure out what kind of boat it is?"*

*"Well, we already know we can rule out larger ships. Anything on the Imperial Record would be too obvious for a clandestine group of underground gamblers-***-murderers to move around in. That narrows us to the smaller vessels, which ordinarily, wouldn't be enough to go on."*

*"Right..."*

*"But! Thanks to the earlier work you did tying those murders together, we might not have to try so hard. There actually aren't going to be that many small vessels that took off from the farmlands on the day in question. I mean, they don't even have a proper harbor. Of those boats, fewer still would have arrived at the Gotham Village docks the same day."*

*"Right, but...there's no way they registered their boat with the same name twice. Plus, are you sure they'd go to the Village Docks? And besides, the Isleys aren't College members; they might not have had a ledger plinth at all."*

*"Think about it. There's no other choice. There are no other docks anywhere close to Channel Park; the only viable escape route, once their most recent victims came to light, was the Village Docks, right across the Cross Bridge."* At that moment, she turned to give Bruce a sly grin, beginning to feel proud of herself. He'd proven he was smart since they'd met. But maybe, just maybe...she was a bit smarter. *"And I checked; the Isley's don't use Ledger Plinths. They don't have docks on their land of any kind...but the Cranes do."*

Bruce's smile came back. *"Because the Cranes..."*

*"Are College Members."* she finished for him.

*"I've got to say, I'm impressed. So how do you finish the puzzle?"*

*"Well, like you said. There's no way the casino registers it's boat under the same name every time they dock. So instead, we just look at the descriptions of the ships entered into the ledger on the key dates you discovered -- right after the Pasture Murders, from the Crane Docks. Then again right after the Channel Park Murders, from the Village docks. Then..."*

*"You look up who arrived at SCI that day, and match the ship type."* Bruce finished, looking chagrinned.

*"Bingo. South Channel Island is remote -- probably a great place for your murders to go unnoticed, especially given the way the elves run the place, from what I've seen. If we didn't know they were there, the trail might've gone cold."*

*"But that also means there won't have been many boats that fit your description on the ledger that arrived there that day that also departed the other two sites on the days in question."*

*"With any luck, we just might get a match."*

It took a few hours of searching -- you needed to be highly experienced with arcane minutia to even use a tool like the ledger slate, and it wasn't user friendly in any sense. But with time and effort, she was able to trascribe onto parchment a list of ship names and descriptions from the Crane docks, and eventually a smaller one from the Village Docks, and so on. It wasn't long before she realized what she was looking at.

*"True Twelve help me."* she whispered incredulously. 

Bruce looked over her shoulder. He saw it immediately. *"The Green Darcy...the Purple Dorie....and the Fat Rosie. Unbelievable."*

*"Green haired doorman, 'purple haired' bartender. Ogre bouncer."*

*"You know,"* Bruce said. *"I thought they'd be a bit more clever than that. Aren't mind flayers supposed to be smart?"*

*"Needs to stop injesting brains from drunks and drug addicts, if you ask me."* she snarked. *"Then again...pride makes fools of us all."*

Bruce laughed this time, clutching is side as he did so, almost making a point, if unintentionally.

*"Alright,"* he coughed. *"Scry us up that boat."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien reached instinctively for the Rod of Ropes, and closed his fist around nothing. 

 _Damn!  If I'd just taken it with me... then I'd be a street child carrying around the most valuable object in miles and miles.  Real subtle._

He'd just have to ascend without tools; with his hands, and feet, and _will._  Yet these were thief-acrobats before him, now.  Grayson would be able to catch them, or at least keep up.  In training, Nightwing's agility was a cut above his own, and even his father's at times.  Was Damien _that good_, now?  If he was, why had he leaned so much on the Rod?  No... He wasn't that good.

He was _better._  Grayson was an acrobat; he was a _Shadow_.

_"I am the master of my blood."_


He presses the toe of a work and scuffed boot to the edge of the vertical masonry, draws in a breath, and then rises.  If he had been careless enough to allow anyone to see him, they might have thought he was flying.  He was certainly almost running; toes finding barest imperfections in stone, somehow leveraging against them, and launching him up in great strides.  Every three strides or so his fingertips brushed the stone, like a bribe payed contemptuously to a physical world that did not like having its rules ignored.  And if gravity would not restrain him, he could hardly let these three alley-scamps shake his pursuit.

*Spoiler: OOC Hold Left Trigger To Climb!*
Show

Guess what Ninjas get at 7th level?  It's Speed Climb!  Damien can double-move vertically up walls each turn as long has he ends his turn on something vertical, or reasonably has something to grab on to.  I reckon he'll be able to keep up!

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate sees to replacing her potions and Powerstones from Cousin Bruce's stores, then returns to Renée.

 Dearest, I told you about the Rite of Rrakma, taught to the first psionic warriors by the Lanterns in hope we would be auxiliaries if The Great War ever came to this world.

Well, my time has come.  I am going to complete the Great Task and be recognized as a True _ Gish_ or die in the attempt.  With the help of my Cousins and The Oracle,  I expect I will succeed. But I felt I would be remiss not to let you know.

With that, she rests and meditates for the quest.

----------


## JbeJ275

"I got it, I got it." She said, she was beginning to get on better with Bruce, their sponsor and the dark knight having proved himself still dedicated to the fight, but he was a grim reminder of the collapse of lawful order in the city and with it her family's prospects anyway. She realised she wasn't doing anyone any good keeping her distance, but remained restrained anyway. 

After a moment's break to direct Juluis to Chelsea Motte, to check for any notes left to him she begins to settle in for the next our of scrying, focusing her magic as purple lines of magic jumped and flared about her, beginning to try and construct a divinatory image inside the Wayne scrying pool.

----------


## Molan

With the path ahead of them clear, the adventurers in the Batcave each retreated to their own corners of the complex, to prepare for the day ahead.

Renee retreated to the cave's Shrine of St. Cuthbert, to pray in front of the large, simple bronze Cross of St. Cuthbert she found presented there. It seemed an incredible coincidence that both Questor and the Dark Knight praised the same deity, and yet, she had to admit, the revelation had a certain poetry to it, as if they were meant to meet in this place. She lit the candles lining the shrine slowly, chanting and praying all the while, until she was surrounded by a halo of scintillating light. Her voice was tight, and she struggled to hold back the emotion she felt in her chest; she was proud of Kate, but knew how incredibly dangerous their quarry was. More than worrying that they would die in their attempt to kill the Flayer, part of her was terrified of what would follow if they succeeded; it seemed that the Illithid would only be a stepping off point on their dark journey, not the end. Things would get worse, before they got better. Renee offered her prayers to the God of Vengeance, begging his judgement fall upon those who'd earned it. There weren't many Cuthbert prayers of protection; Renee let the insinuation hang that she hoped that judgement would be _spared_ on the ones she treasured most.

On the other side of the compound, Kate prepared for the battle in her own way. She centered herself on a mat in the dead center of the training hall, surrounded by martial tools she found comfortingly familiar; swords, steel and wooden, training dummies, archery targets. She crossed her legs and laid her palms flat upon her knees, and allowed her mind to clear, as her psionic focus slowly began to accumulate in her psyche once again. The clarity that came from meditation wouldn't be quite enough; her focus had to be hardened into steel, her will, sharpened into a blade's edge. She would meet this challenge, she would be ready.

At the same time, Sir Alfred Pennyworth got to work on Kate's heavy poleaxe in the newly functional psy-forge. He himself wasn't psionic, but he knew how to operate the necessary machinery, as it were. Psyonic power began to flow through the dark crystal, and slowly but surely, swirling, mesmerizing patterns began to etch themselves along the axe blade of Kate's weapon. The process would take time, but when he was done, it would be worth it.

Finally, in the divination lab, Oracle once again poured a small vial of nitric acid into the pool, along with a copper piece and a cloud of zinc. The chemical mixture burst in a cloud of swirling mist and purple lines of power danced around her, summoning her divination magic once again. The mirror swirled and warbled, and she placed another eagle eye back in the pool, completing the ritual and feeling herself getting sucked into her vision once again. For a moment, she began to feel resistance, moreso than she'd expected, especially after last time. It was almost, _almost_ as if someone or something was resisting her. But she held one hand on the stability rune carved into the table, held up three fingers while crossing her thumb and pinky over her palm, and concentrated hard, pushing through the resistance and eventually, forcing the image she was looking for to burst into life.

*Spoiler: Scrying*
Show

The boat finally came into view. In front of her, Barbara saw the three miscreants they hunted moving their things on board. But something was wrong; she'd have expected them to be moving their tent, the bar, the boneyard tables, the ropes and stakes. But none of that was present here; it seemed like they mostly each just had a few boxes and some napsacks to bring with them, with little else.

*"That everything?* the green-haired woman snickered.

*"You know, nothing's stopping you from helping."* the ogre woman replied, heaving the last of their gear onto the deck. 

*"Oh, take it easy. You get paid well enough."*

*"Okay, are we ready to leave then?"*

*"Not just yet."* 'Purple Hair' interjected. *"We need to wait till nightfall. Then we can head to Sandy Hook."*

*"...Right. You sure you don't have any other reasons to want to stick around?"*

Purple Hair smirked.

*"Of course not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take one last swing through the Carnival Grounds before the sun's too high."*

The ogre sighed, and Oracle ended the spell. She knew what she needed now.


From the platform near the compound's exit, Bruce looked out over the preparations, with Richard watching over his shoulder. Psionic power pulsed through one half of the cave, divine energy in another corner, and arcane magic in the last. Richard appeared over his shoulder. 

*"Do you think this is gonna work?"* he said quietly.

*"Honestly, I'm not sure. But they're impressive. And we can't keep doing this alone. There's too few of us, and too many enemies. Something's got to give."*

*"Well...no arguments there. But what do we do if it doesn't work?"*

Bruce didn't look at him, instead staring down at the pendant around his neck, which usually sat beneath his tunic. It was a sigil of St. Cuthbert.

*"It will."* he said quietly, with all the same confidence his voice always carried. But he said it a second time, a little quieter, and this time Richard started to struggle to believe it. 

*".....it will."*

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Damien bounded straight up the side of the buildings after his acrobatic quarries, rolling nimbly onto the roof and breaking into a silent sprint all in one fluid motion.

The rooftops at the highest points in the Narrows were essentially a world unto themselves; a confusing but strangely beautiful warren of makeshift shelters, crisscrossing planks of dubious structural integrity, and even gardens that sprawled across the top of the island's densest areas like a tree canopy.

It didn't look it anymore, but the Narrows had once been a very different place. The great walled complex that sat at it's eastern most point had once been an Imperial Church Hospital, the buildings surrounding it were actually a large, city-funded complex of tall (between 3 and 6 stories) stone apartments chapels, seminaries and monasteries for the clergy and lay servants of the Church. For this reason, the underlying structures upon which the Narrows had grown were still-sturdy, gothic stone structures replete with gargoyles and steel lattices and all other sorts of architecture that would be out of place in any other slum.

Unfortunately, the tiny island's holier days were far behind it.  Unlike most travesties in Gotham, the Narrows' descent actually preceded the infamous Fall of House Wayne. Gotham's Imperial Church had, once upon a time ago, fallen into disarray and hard times during an ecclesiastical power struggle, causing an exodus from many of the orders who dwelled on the island. The Hospital ran out of funding from the Church, and it's property was transferred to the Holy Inquisition, at that time, under the direct supervision of House Blood, one of a number of Inquisitorial Houses. The Bloods and the Inquisition we're thrilled to have finally gotten a foothold in what they saw as "the city of witches", and began rounding up rogue magi and psions with great zeal. However, they were hounded by accusations of improper seizures, something that they couldn't easily shrug off in a city rules by House Wayne. Eventually the Bloods collapsed, though for different reasons, and the Asylum was taken over by House Arkham and their vassals, who's ruled it ever since.

By this time, the island had otherwise been largely abandoned by the church, and the once-beautiful seminaries we're ransacked and eventually overtaken by squatters, who in time became the island's permanent residents. The place was completely lawless outside of the rare Justicar drive -throughs or the walls of Arkham itself, and shanties, tents, and all other forms of makeshift outgrowths began to cover it's taller buildings like tree mushrooms. But at the very top of this sad, crazy warren, remained it's most exclusive environs. There weren't that many ways to reach the Narrows rooftops; the buildings hadn't been built with access in mind. So the strange little micro-city Damien found himself in seemed almost like a haven, a safe harbor from the no-hold's barred den of deprivation below.

Damien danced through this maze with the grace of someone who'd lived there his whole life. He had to be careful to stay hidden when confronted with open spaces, particularly crossing the planks or other makeshift bridges that bound one rooftop to another. But he kept pace with his prey, eventually feeling more and more pleased with himself, sure his quarry was close.

Unfortunately, in his excitement, he did not notice the chalk-etched cat sigils occasionally marked along the walls  or rails near where he was running, and therefore did not deduce that he'd tripped a silent _alarm_ spell during his pursuit.

The thieves he'd followed eventually stopped running, ducking inside a makeshift building nearer to the edge of town. Damien knew he could creep over there and get up on top of it, likely getting a great insight into who exactly he was dealing with. But as he crossed the last plank, he was disappointed to be ambushed, finding a sharply pointed Sai suddenly brushing up against his throat.

*"You got a lotta nerve little guy...* the woman began to speak as her half elf companion stepped out from the shadows to flank her. Damian blanched.

*"Uh....Spoiler!?"* he exclaimed.

*"Scion!?!"* she replied, realization suddenly dawning on her. *"What the hell are you doing here?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"So, _this_ is the personal business you've flaked off to deal with?"

The words are thrown knives; an assault for the sake of which he has forgotten the sai pointed at him.  Something like legitimate hurt is there, in the first volley of words; soon bricked up behind a safe wall of sneering dismissal.  "Consorting with thieves?  Tell me, did you work for House Kyle _before_ you became one of the famous _Merchant Guild Mercs_, or did the heat of serving the _mission_ just become too much and drive you into their arms?"

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

Spoiler seemed to recoil emotionally, but in so doing she also removed the sai from Damien's neck.

*"Personal business? No. Well, sort of. Frankly you've got a lot of nerve making accusations at me. What drew you up this way, anyway? Where are Oracle and Batwoman?"*

Damien shrugged. *"We had some downtime. The other ladies were all busy diddling with their magic and psionics and whatever else, and I figured I'd take the time to do something actually constructive. Seems I hit the mark -- uncovered some traitors without even trying to."*

Robyn looked shocked, and Stephanie's face contorted with anger.

*"Traitors!? Listen up, little princeling. You've had no idea what you were talking about since I met you and you have no idea what you're talking about now. What's this outfit, anyway? Thinking that a brown cloak'd help you blend into the Narrows? Near miss little one."*

On that, she had a point. Things in the Narrows were far worse than he'd have allowed himself to imagine. *"Yea yea, I noticed. But none of that still answers the question of what you've been doing here. Have you given up on our quest or what?"*

Spoiler's expression looked as though she wanted to throttle him, but something held her back. She sighed heavily.

*"No, damnit. I haven't given up on anything. Maybe you've forgotten already since it doesn't affect life in your giant empty palace but the people of Gotham actually need our help. When we kicked the hornets nest with the Thieves Guild, we also created an opportunity. An opportunity for someone who actually had people's best interests in mind to move in and clear them out. As of right now Velnire's thugs are nowhere to be found in Fort Clinton. I'm trying to do something that will actually make things better."*

*"Well,"* Robyn added sheepishly. *"We are."*

Spoiler blushed, seeming to have forgotten herself.

*"Of course. I'm sorry. This one just gets under my skin."*

*"Uh, how in the Hells is helping a rival thieves gang take over the slums somehow helping things, exactly?"* In truth, Damien didn't actually have much animus towards other opportunistic, shadowy organizations...he'd even pondered trying to do something similar with any remnants of his Mother and Grandfather's old clan, if they were still somewhere to be found. Part of him was actually a bit jealous Spoiler'd beat him to the punch. But he wasn't about to tell her that.

*"I know this is going to be hard to comprehend, but try to keep up. House Kyle's not the kind of group that extorts and preys on innocent people. They prey on groups like the Thieves Guild, the Narrows Rogues and the fat cats of Gotham who like to treat the common folk like their own personal playthings. If we keep letting people like Falcone or Cobblepott run the streets of this city, it'll never end. But there's lots of young ones out there who want things to change. The Kyles actually might have a way to help make that happen."*

*"I mean, honestly, that's fine. But why didn't you tell us what you were up to?"*

*"No offense young one,"* Robyn said softly. *"But your aristocratic and merchant family didn't exactly seem like the kind of folk we'd want to introduce to our merry band of robbers. Haven't the Wayne's and the Gordon's spent quite a bit of their time putting people like us into their dungeons?"*

Damien smirked. *"Well you're not wrong there. But times are interesting these days. And interesting times call for interesting methods. If you can get me an audience with the leader of this little band of circus acrobats and underage pickpockets, we might just be able to form some kind of alliance. Or, short of that, maybe at least an understanding."*

Spoiler and Robyn shared uncomfortable looks with each other.

*"Well, we can try."* she said. *"But I don't know how thrilled she'll be to see you. And an 'understanding' is probably the absolute most optimistic outcome."*

*"Great. I love optimism. Lead on."* Damien snarked.

Robyn and Spoiler led Damien past the next roof, where they found two of the old buildings were connected to one another by a steel lattice, which appeared to have once grown a hanging garden for the nuns that had once lived in the old towers, but which were now bare and empty. In order to cross, the two women delicately crawled their way along the top of the lattice before swinging along the underside at the other end, using a nearby piece of masonry that served as a ladder to crawl inside an old window, which was unlocked.

They were capable enough to make the journey, but only just. Damien observed that this kind of obstacle would be plenty enough from keeping other folks away from the window, making the isolated building a fairly cunning hiding place, even from the rooftop dwellers. But he had no such reservations about feats of acrobatics and decided to crawl the entire distance on the underside of the lattice, smoothly and confidently making the whole way upside down and gracefully hopping through the window.

Inside, an interesting scene presented itself. The apartment was sort of a world unto itself, separated from the rest of the Narrows and their ugly chaos, a quiet little refuge inside a dangerous world. It was filled with old, decaying but oddly comfortable looking furniture, upon which lounged a motley looking collection of rogues, street rats and more than a few cats. Most of them were human, though there was a smattering of halflings and gnomes in attendance. There were more women and girls then males in attendance, and at least half of them were either children or very close to being children, and the adults in the room were on the younger side too. But despite their youth and impoverished natures they had a sort of confident air about them; even as each eye in the room turned towards him as he bounded in, no one looked particularly alarmed.

*"Who's the narc?"* one girl casually quipped as Spoiler and Robyn removed their masks. 

*"Colleague of mine. He wants to meet Lady Kyle."* Spoiler replied. The girl snorted.

*"Bold request."*

Some of the rogues played cards, practiced tossing knives at a painted target on one of the far walls, or caroused with each other while they waited. Spoiler assured Damien that "Lady Kyle" would be there soon, and he took his time making casual observations while he waited. A girl around his age struck up conversation while he waited. She was clearly desperately poor -- she looked like she'd be skinny even if she hadn't been born impoverished, but her face was far too gaunt to be healthy. She chewed on a half loaf of partially stale bread the whole time he talked. Still, there were hints that the Kyles' business was doing better than their shabby appearance let on. While they chatted, he noticed a fairly sizable ruby necklace around her neck, which stood out in dramatic relief against her outfit and the rest of their surroundings. Damien noticed several other gemstones and pieces of expensive looking art sort of lying around the hideout, and on one of the tables in the middle of the room sat an assortment of coin pouches, including the ones he'd seen nicked off of the Narrows Rogue right before he'd started chasing his quarry here.

Eventually his patience paid off. "Lady Kyle" appeared through the window, seeming to pass through the portal from the lattice outside so gracefully she almost didn't seem real. She sort of rolled through the window and land perfectly on her feet, as if incapable of falling or losing her balance. She was human, and had a sort of medium height, with a slim but curvaceous build, and was bedecked in a surprisingly well crafted, form fitting suit of black leather armor. It looked like it might have been elven in origin, such was the degree of craftsmanship; any casually observer could tell the suit was also enchanted. She also wore a pair of black enchanted boots, which seemed to make little to no noise on the ground, but were bafflingly were not flat-soled but had fairly lengthy, spiked-looking heels, which somehow did not seem to impair her movement at all. In fact, she seemed to glide across the floor almost _too_ fast. Her gloved hands were ensconced in black metal gauntlets that ended in slender fingers, each of which extended into an elongated claw, giving each of her hands a deadly, predatory aspect. She carried a long spiked whip on one hip and her face was covered by a leather mask affixed to a pair of large-eyed goggles, which had to be gnomish in origin, best Damien could tell. Her dark hair was tied back in a functional knot at the base of her neck, keeping it out of her face.

She passed from the open portal to the center of the room so smoothly and quickly that Damien almost felt as though he'd missed something, and she casually tossed a couple of heavy looking bags onto the center table along with the other coin purses. They _plunked_ down hard with a jingly metal sound, leaving little mystery as to their contents. She waltzed over to a makeshift bar at the far end of the room, pouring out some milk for a jug into a dish for a couple of the cats lying there. She seemed not to notice Damien at all. And yet...

*"Who's the narc?"* she said casually, without looking back at him. The rest of the rogues in the lounge turned to look at him, too.


*Spoiler: The Batcave*
Show

Their preparations complete, the party retired to their rooms in the castle and slept. The next day, they woke up and reconnoitered in the Castle's main hall.

*"Alright, so we're agreed? Hunt the mind flayer, then move on to try to bring down the Bankers?"* said Bruce.

*"Seems our most prudent course, yes."* Kate replied.

*"Alright. Let me know if there's anything else we can do to support you."*

*"Well, we could probably benefit from the use of your boat again, if that's still on the table."* Barbara replied.

Bruce grinned.

*"Be my guest. She's all prepped and ready to launch."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien retreated to his fortress of juvenile indignation as he clashed with Spoiler.  They had begun something of a playful friendship, once; perhaps, the closest to such of which Damien was capable.  The idea that she might have agendas and goals that forsook such a minor connection was likely a small sacrifice for the rogue.  She was likeable, and liked; and had friends to spare.  Damien -

Well.  It was as he had concluded.  Friends are stupid.

Within this Court of Cats, the gunmetal eyes of the boy surveyed the assembled, gifted poor.  Many of them were obvious skilled.  But they turned their skills to material scrabble, and territory wars with local thugs.

And this woman - who must be Lady Kyle - was chief among them.  Queen of burglars.  Top of the trash pile.

_Were you right after all, Grandfather?  Are they too far gone?_

My name is Scion.  I am not a narc.  If I was, youd be in trouble.  But youre lucky that both the Narrows throat-cutters and the Justicars are dumb, and scattered.  You have something illicitly that I need back - part of a special amulet.  Part of a set.  Ive come to retrieve it; and after that, Ill be out of your way.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Damien*
Show

 The queen of cats turned around, leaning against the bar and curling her taloned hands in front of her, part from curiosity and partly delivering an effect of an alpha predator cleaning it's claws before resuming a hunt. She removed her goggles, unveiling a surprisingly elegant, symmetrical face, set around two enchanting, feline eyes.

*"An amulet, eh?"* she said, practically purring the words. *"I dunno what you're talking about. Can you be more specific?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damien: Cat's in the Cradle*
Show

Damien squinted from within the shadow of his cowl; trying to take the measure of the woman; failing.  Being ten years old, Damien possessed a distinct advantage in dealing with sultry Gotham matriarchs like Lady Kyle - a total obliviousness to feminine charm; a vulnerability to which would not be inflicted upon him for a few years to come.  But it also made him at best partially literate when dealing with adults, and their complicated lives, and their strange entanglements.  His _father_ loved his _mother_, and that was that.  It was a truth made manifest by the fact that he sprung up from their union, the best of both of them combined.  The idea that there may exist, or have existed, or exist in the future, _anything_ apart from the distinctly cut and dry cop-and-robber dynamic between his father and Lady Kyle was impossible; because Damien was a child, and sheltered one at that.  Such possibilities lacking from his worldview, he played the confrontation straight as a die.

"I expect you remember.  You stole the companion gems from a green sapphire necklace.  From a Mage College charity gala, no less; so much, I guess, for being a noble alternative to the other gangs."  He spares a glance around.  His initial hope had been to steal the gems back; but the presense of Spoiler here... complicated matters.  Specifically, by validating the calibre of these thieves; and clarifying the risk of such an action.  He changes tack.

"...What would you take, in trade for them?"

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: The Cathouse*
Show

Lady Kyle seemed to finally register Damien fully. She peered at him for a long moment, like a cat examining a mouse, before her eyes went wide.

*"By all the Hells below...does Bruce Wayne have a son!?"*

She looked genuinely alarmed, and as Damien couldn't concieve of any reason why (it's not like she knew his true identity, right?), he found that more annoying than anything.

*"Perhaps. What does it matter to you?"* he demanded.

Kyle slumped back into a nearby chair, crossing one leg over another and idly fidgeting with her claws, shaking her head and seeming to chew on her tongue for a long spell.

*"Wow. That's something you just don't expect."*

*"Really, I'm trying to be patient,"* Damien huffed, his highbrow attitude getting the better of him. *"Are you ready to deal, or not?"*
Kyle finally seemed to snap free of her shock, shaking her head and taking him at face value once again.

*"Alright princeling. I'm willing to deal. But those gems you're asking for are quite valuable and as that errant bastard father of yours is quite well aware, I stole them fair and square."* Damien would have interjected on that point, but he felt close to his goal, and didn't bother dragging the argument out any further. *"I'll trade you for the gems, but you're going to need to steal something for me. There's an incredibly rare and valuable diamond in Midtown I'll trade for the gems -- it's called the Eye of Mya."*

Damien was disgusted. *"I'm not a thief. Are you literally just trying to upsell the gems you stole for a bigger gem you want to steal?"*

Kyle laughed. *"Hardly. I don't need the Eye for me. I need it because I promised I'd eventually get it for someone else, and he's someone who's badside I'd really prefer to stay off of. Besides, once I tell you who has it I have a feeling your precious little moral code will bend a bit more in my direction."*

*"Who'd you promise it to?"*

*"An incredibly powerful and dangerous mage named Lord Victor Fries."*

Damien wrinkled his nose. *"What would a powerful noble wizard want with another bauble?"*

*"No, no. You don't understand. The Eye is fugging massive, it's like the size of your fist..."* she looked him up and down, *"Well, your father's fist. Some people rumor that the Dwarves carved hidden runes into it long ago via some ancient and long lost magic. I have no idea if that's true, but Fries apparently does need it as some kind of spell focus. Some idiot afflicted his wife with this horrible degenerative disease a couple of years back and he's been trying to save her ever since. I had cut a deal with him for something unrelated; in return, he wants the diamond. The person who holds it only sweetened the pot, but...he also makes it hard to take away."*

*"O.....kay. Who has time diamond?"* Kyle smiled. *"The Underboss of the Gotham Thieve's Guild. Kysel Velnire."* Damien wanted to groan in exasperation. He was beginning to think they really needed to clear the blasted Guild from the field. Was their _anything_ happening in Gotham they weren't tied up in? *"What's the matter?"* she purred. *"Ever heard of him?"*

*"Pffff. Heard, seen, not impressed. We took out one of his captains not that long ago..."* but Kyle interjected. *"That was you!? No, no way. Did you bring your school friends to help?"* She looked at Stephanie. *"You didn't tell me you all'd brought a child along..."*

Spoiler snorted. *"He wasn't there for that. We actually met..."*

*"Actually NO!"* he shouted, his temper getting the better of him for a moment. *"Some adventurers I've worked with arrested Raam, if you have to know, but they started struggling with some much tougher characters after that, and if it wasn't for me,"* -- he glared at Stephanie -- *"They'd probably all be dead by now."*

The Cat only looked amused, but Stephanie had the grace to shrug. *"Well he's not exactly right but I don't know if he's completely off on that either. Things did get a lot more...horrific since we teamed up."*

Damien did his best to ignore Spoiler and press on with the issue at hand. *"Listen, why the hell does Fries want this diamond? No offense but I don't find 'sick wife' to be a very convincing excuse. Surely a high ranking College member could just get a healer to..."*

*"Oh, they tried that."* Kyle cut him off. *"Oh yea, they went to Saint Mara's, tried every healer and cleric and archivist they could find. Nothing worked. Apparently whatever afflicts Lady Fries isn't so much a sickness as...well...a curse. A magical disease, at any rate, that none of their prayers or elixers could salve. Lord Fries is the foremost Crymomancer in the Empire; he seemed to believe that somewhere in the depths of his own arcane research, he might be able to find a way to restore her."*

*"Again, this makes no sense. If he's so powerful why not just find out who did it and force them to..."*

*"Hah! Find out!? No way. No one in this entire fugging city would admit to that nasty little hit job. After Lady Fries got sick, a number of Lord Fries' rivals at the college just sort of...went missing. No one knows exactly what happened of course, and they never found any bodies, but it's not hard to do the math. If he so much as suspected that somebody'd hurt his little snowflake, it'd be a fimbulwinter on their whole House. No, whoever did it is either very, very dead or not talking, and so a powerful mage is left grasping at straws. But I need to close out my tab with the old icicle so if you want to help me, then help nick it off of Velnire."*

*"Alright, fine. I'll bite. If you'll give the emeralds in exchange we can get you that diamond. Why does Velnire have it, anyway? And where does he keep it? You'd think the Thieves'd just hawk it for the gold."*

*"Not this diamond,"* Kyle said, picking some unidentifiable substance off of her black claws. It was hard to be sure if it was blood...then again...it was probably blood. *"That shiny little rock made Kysel Velnire. It was his big heist, the thing that put him on the map. You see, little princeling, in our world, the only thing worth more than gold is your reputation. And without one, you're not going anywhere. The heist that Velnire's crew pulled off that got him the Eye put him on the map, and helped catapult a career that eventually landed him one spot under Boss Falcone himself. He'd never part with it; it's a symbol of who he is. But, likewise, it's also his Achilles Heel. We're in a turf war with the Thieves of Midtown. We've moved into Fort Clinton after Spoiler here and her buddies put Raam away, and we're not giving it back. Kysel's pissed. But if we can prove that we can walk into his Guildhouse and take the one thing he values more than anything else? Well, as reputations rise, they can fall. And falls inside the Thieves Guild can be...precipitous."*

*"Alright, I'm game. Where's the Guild House?"*

Kyle just shook her head. *"Sorry little robin. That's all the information you're getting tonight. If I knew where it was, I'd have hit it already, right? In any case, Falcone's  hideout isn't much of a hideout...everyone who's anyone knows where he likes to lie around, and he's in Uptown. Cobblepott and the Market are Downtown, so the best I can do for you is..."*

*"The entire island of Midtown. Great. Got it. Very helpful."*




*Spoiler: Wayne Isle*
Show

The party did eventually finish their preparations, and Damien eventually returned. The following dusk, they were massed up and ready at the Docks outside of Wayne Castle, armed with new magic and purpose. Down at the boat, Bruce Wayne's hooded, black cloaked and silent crew waited near the red glowing lanterns. Standing just before it, was the party, and facing them, staying back at the castle for this mission, was Sir Richard, Sir Pennyworth, Questor, and Lord Bruce himself.

*"Be careful out there cousin. I know this is important. Just don't lose sight of the greater good."*

*"Don't worry about me, Bruce."* Kate replied. She gazed for a while at Questor. *"My vision's never been clearer."*

Bruce looked at Damien. *"Remember what I taught you."* he said softly.

*"Of course. Always aim for their kidneys."* Richard laughed, Alfred rolled his eyes. But Bruce remained calm, inscrutable. *"What you do, matters."* he said more cryptically. Damien offered no reprisals this time, simply lowering his head and nodding. Finally, Bruce addressed Barbara.

*"It's always an honor to fight alongside a Gordon. Thank you for deciding to help us."* Barbara just shrugged. *"Thank me tomorrow maybe. I'm helping Kate tonight."* 

With that, they were off. They boarded the creepily silent ship and made their way up the East River, through the South Channel and eventually towards South Channel Island once again. It wasn't long until they passed around the west side of Midtown and started heading south again, down the Queen's river. As they began to get close to their intended intercept point, one of the hooded crew took out a book from under the crook of their arm and placed it open on a wooden pedestal near the capstan. It turned out, Bruce's elite vessel also came with it's own pocket mage. Oracle wasn't exactly sure how powerful of a spellcaster they were dealing with, but it quickly became apparent what their specialty was.

Reading from the book, the mage first ensconced the vessel in a shroud of mist, that seemed to move with them as they sailed. Then, a second spell produced a gust of strong wind, causing them to accelerate faster than they would have otherwise, without dispelling the magical concealment. Finally, they cast something Oracle could recognize, especially with her training: a Divination Spell.

*"What's he doing?"* Damien asked. *"He's casting a very specific divination -- detect ship."* Barbara struggled somewhat to hide how she'd become mildly impressed. The Waynes really did spare no expense.

The mage gestured to the ship's "Captain" and the party moved to the prow to see what they were pointing at. There, just ahead of them, was their quarry, quietly wending it's way through larger vessels parked in deepwater.

*"Alright,"* Kate said, cracking her knuckles. *"Time to shut the Casino down."*


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You can approach the opponent ship with surprise -- they are not watching behind them. However, once you attack or run up alongside to board, the surprise round will end. Lay out how you'd like to start combat and I'll take it from there!

----------


## Feathersnow

I learned a new power, one especially designed for heavy armor wearers to get places we aren't expected.  On your signal, I'll appear as close to The Enemy as I can, assuming we can get within about 700 feet.

Kate looks different, the glamour on her armor making her look sleek and feminine instead of the androgynous box of creeping death her armor appeared as when she released it.  Of note was a cape with an emerald brooch, the hooded lantern icon of her Ranger squad, and though few knew it, a far larger and more storied organization with origins far in the future....

On this Darkest Night, the world would be saved from another murderous spawn of time criminals and another mind warrior would earn the coveted title of "_Gish_"

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Damian: Cat-nabbit*
Show

Armed with new intel and a new quest, Damien retreated from the lair of the Kyle-rogues.  Thieves stealing from thieves - why would he expect any different?  Still, if Kane and Gordon would help, this heist overlapped with their existing goals.

Why Lady Kyle was so perceptive, and weirdly focused on his paternity... was a more elusive vexation.


"Excellent, Kane.  You're the most conspicuous threat; and therefor, a nightmare to anyone who can't see you coming.  Once we're in, I'll try to distract whomever I can to give you a clear run at the illithid.  Gordon, I assume you'll do the judicious spell craft she deems most necessary.  You're welcome to ride up with me on the retraction of the rope, unless you'd rather engage some other way."  

With that, Damien offers the Water-Breathing scroll to Oracle, and frees up his hands to start his pre-combat ritual of poisoning up some shuriken.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara has up until that moment been somewhat distracted with spellcasting, counjouring up some _Mage Armour_ and ensuring her ability to _Detect Thoughts_ while also ensuring her Divine Insight, casting from the scroll and finally pulling upon shadows to wreath herself in _Greater Invisibilty._ Then her invisible hand grasps Damien's. "I'm ready. Pull me up."

*Spoiler: Cat-talk*
Show

Barbara isn't fond of the idea. "Those wh swore to enfore the law picking one criminal cartel over another for the benefit of themselves or their own. That's how corruption first took root in the Justicars. I don't wan to repeat it. But from wht I saw of spolier's mind she has good intentions. I mean to watch them, but we can talk about a the problems in any long term agreement once other criminal's aren't trying to claim the entire city."

----------


## MrAbdiel

The Rod of Ropes sprouts its leather wrist loop.  Just as well - neither Oracle nor Scion was strong enough to entertain the idea of swinging the other around.  Grasping the loop together, Damien looses the grapple to hook on to the rail at the rear of the ship just under 300 ft away.  After that, the boarding is simple - stepping into the water and triggering the rod to winch them through the spray and wet to thr ships rear, then up to its rail.  As they  come within 10 ft of the rail, Damien uses his free fingertips to flick a puff of smoke powder.,. And then two invisible assailants board the ship, to survey its deck activity.

----------


## Molan

As the Dark Knight's ship slowly and silently closed the distance on it's quarry -- it's lanterns now doused, it's presence shrouded in fog just in case anyone looked directly at it -- Damien's rope grapple sprang out from it's prow, locking onto the rail of the leading ship and yanking Barbara and Damien forward to their destination.

Moving quietly, they climbed over the railing, unseen, to survey the vessel and it's crew.

It was a strange sight. It was a smallish boat -- probably the smallest size one could be and remain ocean-worthy. For all they knew, it might have been more of a littoral merchant vessel than a deep sea one. Still, it was a decent enough size and had two masts, enough work for smallish crew to handle. And there was a crew -- instead of finding the three dubious and possible murderous Casino Proprietors mingling on the weather deck, they saw what looked like between six to eight medium sized humanoids. Some of them stood near the rigging shrouds, each crew member with a single hand on the ropes, ready to operate them if necessary, but standing perfectly still and straight otherwise. Every one of them remained motionless in place, swaying only slightly as the boat bobbed along the currents of the river, and all of them stared straight ahead, seeming to stare at nothing.

Another crewman operated the helm, but other than his actual task of steering the ship, he appeared rigid and stationary. A couple more stood near the boat's capstan. 

Up near the forecastle, Barbara did recognize one familiar figure -- the ogre woman sat, hunched, looking out over the dark waters of the Queen's River, sitting in solitude while the silent crew seemed to just stare at her back. No one spoke or looked around, though it was impossible to say if the crew would hear them if they stomped around or spoke to each other. It was reasonable that, depending on whether the creepy crew noticed them, that they could walk around the stern of the vessel relatively freely without the Ogre noticing them, since she was up at the prow.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Roll for initiative.

You are currently undetected and therefore are not in turn order, though we should probably work that out now. The area you're standing on is elevated from the main deck by about 8 or so feet, with small stairs running down the starboard and port sides away from the helm towards the main deck. It seems likely based on the boat's design that below you are one or more cabins. 

If you give a signal, Kate can, at her leisure, _dimension door_ onto the enemy ship. The Ogre is likely taking a circumstance penalty to Listen checks to notice you given her distance, but you can't be so sure about the rest of the crew. You have six turns worth of action before Bruce's ship runs up alongside the boat you're on, at which point the crew will lock in with grapples to prevent it from escaping and allow you a way to escape back onto your friendly vessel if necessary. The Dark Knight's crew has not, however, offered to help you in combat and you have no idea how capable they may or may not be in a situation like that.

If you can effectively _and silently_ incapacitate any crew members without the others hearing or noticing, you can retain your surprise round and remain out of initiative order. If someone notices you though, you'll have a surprise round and then combat will begin.

Damien and Barbara, roll for Move Silently, and make Will Saves.

*Spoiler: Barbara*
Show

Detect Thoughts Round 1: You detect the presence of thoughts.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Brace he mutters to Oracles void.  Damien, lacking the long term invisibility of Oracles investment, tosses himself back over the railing and dangles, chimp like, out of sight.  Then he touches the sending stone and murmurs into it.

Batwoman.  Ogre and thralls up, but Primary target not in sight.  Going to provoke without revealing.  Advise crew all stop - target vessel about to halt.

Then he plucks a palm sized token from one fold of his gi, and slaps it against the hull

*Spoiler*
Show

(1d20+22)[*37*] move silently.

(1d20+11)[*31*] will save.

Sorry to disrupt your timeline Molan - but Damien is hoping to get purple hair in view for Kates alpha strike.  Hes using a Qualls Feather Token of Anchor to halt the ship, which should cause confusion in the members of the ship who are not mind-scrubbed, and maybe cause some to come up to top deck!

----------


## Molan

An almost imperceptible _thrum_ of magic pulsed outward through the water beneath the ship, and it lurched into an extremely sudden stop, causing everyone visible on board to suddenly fall or stumble forward, and briefly dipping the bow of the ship so deep into the water that some of the river water splashed onto the Ogre, causing her to cry out for a brief moment in started confusion. There was a "bump" side from below, followed by some angry hissing and cursing, and a door could be heard creaking open, though neither Damien nor Barbara could see it from their positions.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Please add balance checks to your list of rolls (Barbara and Damien only), and Concentration if any ongoing effects you had (detect thoughts?) require it.


*"The hell was that?"*

Someone from inside the cabin below them called out.

As the voice asked it's indignant question, grappling hooks sailed through the air from the boat's port side, clinging onto the side rails of the boat, while the audible sound of a rapidly descending chain and the groaning of metal on wood announced the arrival of Bruce's dark ship as it was forced to begin breaking very suddenly. Though enough grapples had hooked the boat to allow the dark crew to begin pulling them together (the boat was now as solid in the water as a rock, easily pulling the other ship along), they were still nearly a hundred feet away from one another, and the heaving efforts of the crew to bring them in together looked like it was taking time.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Once again, Initiative reminder for those who need to roll it. Feather, if Kate is going to take this opportunity to Dimension Door, I think Damien's "signal" ought to have been noticeable enough. If you do board the boat, please also make a Will Save.


One of the humanoid crewmates -- an actually human, recovered first, looking around in startled confusion. *"Wha...what's happening? Are we being attacked?"*

----------


## Feathersnow

In Brightest Day, In Darkest Night!
Oa! Oa! Gish'ali!!

With a sudden "pop" an armored knight is on board the casino ship, shouting the oath of the Rangers and the war cry of The Lanterns!

----------


## JbeJ275

Dammit, Scion. Id hoped to drop this on the action on the captain itself. Still

Then as Damien takes out his token to the ship, Oracle binds powerful enchantment magic, sending her will against the Ogre to try and force it into a _Deep Slumber_ in the moment before the ship stops.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

DC 19 Will Save for the Ogre or be put to sleep and probably then hurled from the ship as it stops.

----------


## Molan

The crew seemed stunned and confused. The ogre collapsed onto the deck unconscious as Oracle's spell washed over her. She rolled into the sides of the hull that reached up over the prow, nearly dropping into the Queen's river, but she was too heavy, and stayed on deck, snoring loudly. In the doorway leading to the cabins, the green-haired woman stood, her eyes wide, taking in Kate's striking figure.

As the crew looked around, they seemed to be bewildered, but Kate noticed that each of them had long, glistening longswords strapped to their hips; they weren't particularly well dressed or equipped otherwise, so the swords seemed out of place.

From somewhere unseen, a strange, eerie voice floated out throughout the ship. It didn't ring in their ears, but instead seemed to talk directly inside their skulls.

*"Watch out men! These boarders are pirates, they're here to kill us all! Please...defend yourselves...defend me..."*

The speaker was nowhere to be seen, but everyone, including the party, heard the sibilant mental whisper. It was a muddy, inky sort of voice, a slithering, whispering thing that sent shivers down everyone's spines.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate tried popping up within poleaxe range but, evidently, there was interference.  She steps up towards the likely target. 


*Spoiler: attack*
Show



(1d20+13)[*29*] to hit

(4d6+5)[*11*] damage

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damn.  Too many moving parts; the plan hadn't survived the adaptation, and the target hadn't emerged as he'd hoped.  Nothing to do now but inflict losses on the crew such that the creature feels it necessary to join the fight.

As Batwoman whirled to engage the emergent threat from the aftcastle, Damien launched himself from its top, skid-tumbling across the deck behind and to Batwoman's right, and blitzing past a pair of the stunned crew-thrawls.  From there, he pivots and makes his strike - the flashing steel of the curved shuriken whistling through the midst of the melee towards the green-haired cretin now forced into a combat with Gotham's Dark Dame.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Emerging from hiding, moving across the deck, ending (presumably) within 30 ft of the ogre  green meanie and throwing the Shuriken of Returning, coated in Drow Poison.

(1d20+17)[*31*], for (1d2+2)[*4*] damage plus (4d6)[*11*] sudden strike damage, and a DC 13 Fortitude save on the ogre or fall unconcious.  It's not likely, but it's worth a red hot go.

Edit: It occurs to me that's 2 range increment penalties for the shuriken, so -4 to that.

----------


## Molan

Kate's polearm slammed into the green haired woman and she grunted in pain, though she was spared any mortal wounds thanks to the weapon's psionic enhancement. Damien's poisoned throwing weapon sank into her shoulder a moment later, and it was a good bit less merciful.

The poison did it's work, however, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she too, fell unconscious.

But from it's still undefined location, the still-unseen voice urged the crew to resist, it's inky, oily voice echoing inside the party's skulls as well as the crew's.

*"Wake them up. A little blood will do, not too much. Defend yourselves!"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay!

Turn order:
1. Kate
2. ???
3. Damien
4. Barbara
5. Crew
6. Ogre (zzz)
7. Green Hair (zzz)

That was the surprise round so Kate you can go again. If anyone wants to attempt Spots, Listens, Searches or Knowledge, or ask any questions regarding the "???" actor, feel free to do so. Keep in mind the humanoid crew appears hostile, though perhaps not as battle hardened as the party or their leaders.


*Spoiler: Detect Thoughts*
Show

Round 2: There are 13 thinking minds on board -- including Kate and Damien. Of the remaining intellects, their intelligence scores are: 10, 11, 11, 10, 11, 9, 10, 10, 12, 14, and 20.

This isn't relevant to the spell, but you can plainly see 8 humanoid crew members, Kate, Damien, and one sleeping ogre in your LOS at this time. You can't _see_ green hair but you are relatively sure she's adjacent to Kate based on everything that just transpired. Green Hair and the Ogre's thoughts are already fuzzy static since one is in a magically induced sleep and the other is swimming in narcoleptic chemicals courtesy of Damien's magic shuriken.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate looks at what was apparently a body double.  _A less serious student would have cut off her head and teleported away, only to be denounced as a fool and a murderer by the Lanterns as The Enemy made its escape!_

Coward! Show yourself!  We only want the time traveller!! The rest of you can go!

(1d20+3)[*18*] Intimidation!

----------


## Molan

A hatch in the middle of the weather deck popped open, and the purple-haired man that Oracle and Scion had previously, at various times, glimpsed in the Casino, emerged from within the hold.

He floated up above the deck, through the air, looming over the entire scene. His hair floated eerily behind him in space, and his emotionless dead eyes gazed out over everyone present while his mouth was curled up into a faint smirk.

*"Wake them up! These barbarian pirates will kill us all!"*

The voice slithered through their consciousnesses, and the man's lips didn't move at all. But his eyes flitted up to look at the party, and all three adventurers felt their stomachs do backflips as his eyes flashed with another burst of violet energy.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Everyone make a Will save.

----------


## Molan

Barbara's eyes flashed purple in synch with the purple haired man's as psionic power washed over the deck. Damien and Kate each squinted and blinked. At her feet, Kate saw the green haired woman's form seem to blur. She squinted, and the disguise that had shrouded the woman was lifted.

Though at first glance this creature appeared to be a well-proportioned human, a closer look revealed a hideous face crowned with a mass of snakes instead of hair, eyes glowing a deep, feral red, and scaly, earth-colored skin. The scaled woman and the snakes sprouting from her head were just as asleep as she was.

Damien blinked as well, and nearly recoiled in horror as the purple haired man's visage finally cleared up -- where his smirk had rested, a mass of tentacles sprouted forth as if he was vomiting them, and as the illusion fell away, and the creature's full form was revealed. This strange humanoid-shaped being was about as tall as a human. Its flesh was rubbery and greenish-mauve, glistening with slime. The creatures head looked rather like a four-tentacled octopus, made all the more horrible by a pair of bloated white eyes.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Scion's eyes flare with disgust, and astonishment.  The Mindflayer, he knew little about; it was an alien creature that ate brains, and that's all he needed to know.  It was the kind of horror one appreciated the more they knew about it, and he had not the time to know such things.  But they had been so focused upon that foe that the identity of the green-haired elf had not seemed important.  And they might have paid dearly.  This creature was a _medusa_; a creature of legend and horror, nearly extinct, and not near enough to it.  If the drow-venom hadn't taken hold, it would be turning its petrifying eyes on them right now.

Well.  It had worked. There, on the deck, lay a monster; incapacitated for the moment.  The drow-venom had taken hold.  The League taught that poisons were like armies assaulting a fortress.  There were two major battles: the approach, and the seige.  If the army could stand the enemy's resistance and put ladders to the wall, the fortress was under siege; if they could overcome the walls, they could run amok with massacre and rapine within.  The medusa was in the seige, and the seige would be over in sixty seconds, or thereabouts.  If they were lucky, the monster's blood would lose the seige and she would be in the delirium silence for hours and hours.

But luck had already played much of its hand, this battle; spent on the lucky strike just winning the approach.  Let the thralls poke and jab the medusa; there would be no waking, for a while; and before the end of that while, he would take her head.

The great threats that remained were the ogre - asleep, soon to be awoken - and the mind flayer.  And he knew which Kane would be going for.  Best to focus their attacks.

With another flash of smoke powder, he faded from view; and unseen, he sent another black-slicked razor whipping up at the rugose monstrosity.  A moment later, his unseen hand plucked the birdarang out of the air on its return arc and flung it again, at the same target.  If he could soften the creature up, perhaps Kane could finish it, before things got out of hand.

*Spoiler: OOC Attacks!*
Show



Free Action - Catch Birdarang
Swift Action - Ninja Vanish! (6/8 Ki Remaining)  Invisible.
Full Round Action - Full Attack, on the Mind Flayer!  20ft away = -2 Range Penalty; Invisible = +2 Bonus.
Attacks Targeting Flatfoot AC.

First Attack - *Regular Shuriken, with a dose of Drow Poison*.  (1d20+15)[*27*] Vs Flatfoot.  (1d2)[*1*] slashing damage + (4d6)[*20*] Sudden Strike damage.  DC 13 Fortitude Save or fall Unconcious.
First Attack - *Birdarang, +2*.  (1d20+12)[*32*] Vs Flatfoot.  (1d2+2)[*4*] slashing damage + (4d6)[*7*] Sudden Strike damage.

Edit: If the confirmation roll of *16* in the OOC hits, it'll add a whopping *4* damage.

----------


## Molan

The mind flayer shrieked in pain, not out loud but through the skulls of everyone present. The crew visibly flinched as they heard it, and purple ichor poured outward through the air and onto the deck.

Oracle turned around, racing Damien, her eyes glowing from psychic energy. He realized in that instant that he was in trouble. She summoned a burst of her own violet colored arcana, and as she held her hand out, a burst of three brutally sharp looking icicles flung from her hand, straight at him. Damien twisted and sprang out of the way just in time, allowing the icy shards to sail past him, but it was a close call.

Meanwhile, the crew sprang into action. 

One man drew his longsword and ran over to where the ogre slumbered, unceremoniously stabbing her in the arm, and causing her to awaken with a sharp yelp.

Five others charged Kate, lashing out with their glistening, pristine blades, but none could land a blow. Only one was near enough to Damien, but just as he'd flipped away from Barbara's ice shards, he nimbly ducked under his attacker.

The ogre managed to stand up, gritting her teeth and looking incensed. But then, she did something odd, making a gutteral sound before a *snap* of arcana swirled around her and she abruptly disappeared.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate activates her power stone of expansion and seeing her way blocked by deluded pawns, bends time to use dimension door behind the charging goons, directly underneath The Enemy.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Plucking the birdarang from the air with dexterous aplomb, Damien dances and weaves through the friendly fire that, invisible, he hasnt anticipated the need to avoid.  Shes compromised!  Watch your back!

With that hiss to Kane, in the half second he has a visible profile, Damien takes stock of the situation.  Ogre gone.  Thralls thrallin.  Medusa down.  Flayer rising.  Oracle compromised.  Perhaps when they downed the flayer, shed come to her senses.

Hed _hate_ to have to take her down.

For now, he snapped out of the visual spectrum again, ducked beneath a whirling boat boom, and scrambled rapidly up the nearest mast.

*Spoiler*
Show

5/8 ki.  Turning invisible again.  Moving (I guess) 10ft to the mast, and 30 up to, i home, a crossbar or rope he can grab with his open hand.  Hes anticipating the flayer will continue to rise and trying to preserve his angle on it.  No attacks this turn.

----------


## Molan

Barbara's eyes sized violet, and for a moment Kate and Damien almost thought they could hear the illithid chuckling. Barbara pulled out a long wand from her belt, bedecked with a dragon wrapping around it, it's mouth open at the head. A flash of fiery energy appeared in the wand as she pointed it at Kate. Both remaining heroes eyes widened, realizing what was about to happen. Barbara's hand stayed steady even as the crew were rushing towards Kate's location.

A fiery ball of death leapt from the wand and exploded, engulfing Kate, the main mast and half the crew in fire. The men who got caught in the blast died screaming, and the others panicked, dropping their swords and running for the sides of the ship to throw themselves in the river, or huddling in the corner in abject terror. The force that compelled them no longer appeared to be doing so, though the cost had been steep.

Even as the fires dissipated, the ogre *popped* back into existence, grumbling something primal, and angry. She held out her hand and an icy blast swept across the deck, sweeping over Kate and also striking the mast, which now began to creak and sway.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Feather, make a reflex save for each AoE spell that hit your position.

Abdiel; dealer's choice: (1) Escape Artist + Jump to bail from your perch, OR (2) reflex save to ride the doomed mast out and avoid damage or (if you really botch the roll) a drop into the drink, OR (3) Balance + dealer's choice if you want to take a more creative action. If you have any class abilities that hell with falling, they can play out here too.

I...*think* it's Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate, trying to remain unfazed, chops at the Illithid! 

Our hero is hurting, but this will be worth it if she succeeds!

*Spoiler:  attack!*
Show


(1d20+14)[*24*] to hit

(2d6+6)[*12*] subdual damage

(1d20+9)[*22*] to hit

(2d6+6)[*10*] subdual damage

----------


## Molan

The illithid attempted to heal it's deep wound from Damien's _birdarang_, and it was ensconced in psychic energy as it's wound began to slowly shrink.

It wasn't enough, however, Kate crashed down hard on the beast with her pole axe, and she beat the aberration so hard that it's eyes rolled back and it feel downward, back into the hatch it'd emerged from, crashing into the hull below.

The ogre roared in anger, but noticed that she was outgunned, and her next guttural chant didn't result in an attack; she turned into an ephemeral cloud of gas, which began wafting it's way away from the boat and towards the river.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay. Oracle gets a new save, to try to throw off the effect she's under. If she fails, then you guys are going to need to do something. That chick is scary.

On the other hand, you smoked my Casino waaaaaaay faster than I thought. Medusa and Mindflayer are still alive, but not currently threats, and the crew is wiped / running / cowering.

----------


## Feathersnow

Don't Resist!  We only want the _Ghaik_

----------


## MrAbdiel

With typically enviable agility, Damien flickers back into view in a forward sommersault, tumbling skillfully away from the collapsing mast.  He casts a glance back to Oracle - whose devestating fireball had fallen almost on _them_, this time; almost on _him_... but not seeing another blast lancing from her want, follows an colder instinct... and steadies his gleaming new shortsword over heart of the unconscious medusa.

He had somewhere between ten seconds, and eight hours, to decide whether it was _right_ to kill her, here and now.  On one hand, she was helpless; a prisoner, if they wished.  But were there even prisons for such things...?

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate beckons for Oracle and Scion to come to her so she can teleport them back to their own boat.

Then she turns off the "safety" on her Poleaxe and decapitates the illithid.

----------


## Molan

As abruptly as it had begun, the ambush had ended. The flayer's psionic domination over Oracle was gone, along with the flayer himself and most of his crew. The aftershocks felt staggering. The casino crew's boat was doomed; it's mast was gone and almost it's entire crew had abandoned it. Bruce's sleek black cruiser pulled up alongside, jrs men grappling the two vessels together to allow the adventurers to depart.

Kate has claimed her prize, and at least one of Gotham's murderers was gone. But the costs had been high. Two of the crew members continued to tower on deck, and both Barbara and Damien had looks on their faces suggesting they weren't very satisfied with their victory, to say the least.

Damien was still perched over the Medusa, who was alive, but unconscious.

----------


## JbeJ275

Wordlessly Barbara turns to the others, invisibility hiding the warring emotions on her face. Then ran to the edge of the boat and disappears into the air being replaced by Juluis, who swiftly flew after her.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien watched the decapitation without sympathy.  One less monster in the world - and a world better for it.  He drew back his arm for the killing blow on the medusa... and found his arm weak with.. what?  Restraint?

Surprise swept through him.  His father's teachings had begun with the scum of Gotham's streets - a crossbow wielding goon in a dark alley, even one who ends up committing _murder_, may neither need or require death.  There may be something redeemable in them.  More than that, the roll of the Dark Knight in Gotham was to be a substitute for the constabulary which was so terribly compromised.  Whom the people of Gotham choosed to hang, and whom they chose to forgive, was not the roll of a Justicar on the street - and was not the role of the Knight acting in their abandoned authority.

But the problem with that reasoning was that _mercy_ was a poison all of its own kind.  Once you began extending it to any, you soon found reasons to extend it to almost anyone.  Did the mind-flayer have any choice other than to follow its craven appetite?  Disastrous and evil as its actions, was it capable of something like _care_, or _nobility_?  Would knowing such things chance the way they handled those creatures in future?  And those questions aside, even if the brain-eater was everything as bad as it seemed (and it was hard to imagine an alternative), Kane's mysterious order was the appropriate authority for meting out that lethal destruction.  She was the right one to be the executioner.  And Damien had sworn to relinquish the role of executioner as long as he was learning at his father's side.

It's so _easy_ to extend mercy.  But once you start, it may well consume you.

With an exasperated growl, Damien sheathed his blade, and drew his sling.  He bound the leather saddle of the weapon over the medusa's eyes, like a rough eyemask, and drew tight its leather straps behind her head; then used the long tails of the straps to bind the unconcious mess of snakes into an ugly ophidian ponytail.

He glanced up to the cowering survivors of the crew.  "Go!  To the black ship to larboard.  You'll be returned to safety.  Ask no questions of the crew.  Thank your gods you have survived this night at all!"

While reprimanding them, he drew a bag of caltrops from his haversack.  The tough leather of the bag was sturdy stuff; designed to hold pointed steel comfortably.  Then he dumped the caltrops off to one side in a discarded pile, and pulled the whole bag over the snakes, over the top of the medusa's head, and drew the drawstring tight under her nose and the swell of the back of her skull, knotting the string to keep it in place.  Finally, manacles onto her wrists behind her back to prevent her picking at the head-covering, he hoped, would be enough to restrain her.  At the very lease, she might be able to let them know where the fugitive ogre had fled.

Standing over the monster, unslain as it was, the young warrior felt an emotion he mistook for self-disgust, and would take some time to puzzle out.

*Spoiler: OOC Hey Why Though*
Show

Just wanted to do that little scene because I'm playing with Damien having a kind of inverted "if I cross that line I'll never go back" thing. 
 I forgot that Oracle was invisible too - Damien might have been less vocal and sure about her being compromised until the fireball hit, but I he would have had an incling when the spells started flying at him.

Things he wants to do before leaving the ship for the harbormasters:

1. Bind up that medusa and take her prisoner, trusting his father will have some kind of better restraint for her and a notion of what constitutes _justice_.

2. Search the medusa for weapons - she may wake up soon after binding, so a more thorough magic item search can be done on the bat-boat after the magic minute has passed, wake or not.

3. Check the unmoving, smoked crew members for signs of life to see if any of them are merely dying and not dead, and thus can be saved.

4. Make sure the survivors get off the ship on to the batboat to be deposited into the loving arms of the justicars

5. Search below deck for magic items, clues, treasure and whatnots.  Raw wealth would help the survivors get back on their feet, but anything else, naturally, is welcome.

6.  Once back on the batboat and abandoning the casino-ship for the harbor masters, complete the search of the medusa.  And possibly poison her again if she starts getting lippy and unappreciative of this mercy.

Damien hasn't quite made the connection that Oracle has quit the field in shock.  He's making the movement from callous weapon of indiscriminate violence towards precision defender of good, not confronting a sudden and awful thrust in the opposite direction; he just figures she's making her own way back and will be surprised when Kate likely tells him she's probably in shock over the collateral damage.

----------


## Molan

Damien completed a search of the vessel. The crew who'd been unlucky enough to get caught in Oracle's blast were all very much dead -- they'd lacked Kate's layered protections (and at this point, he had to admit -- her supernatural constitution. Being half demon seemed to come with perks), and the high-powered wand from South Channel Island took few prisoners. 

The Medusa had little on her person other than an unidentified circlet that had sat around some of the snakes that made her hair. But when Damien searched the cabins, he found more. She had a masterwork short bow and an elegant dagger in her room (he assumed it was hers, given the shedded scales on the floor), along with several fine pieces of art and jewelry hanging about, and a sack of coins on her mirror-less vanity...containing four hundred platinum pieces, just like Kate had found on the mind flayer.

A room in the back was much larger, and was scribbled with arcane looking sigils that may or may not have been drawn by a child. A greatsword leaned against one corner, much too large for him to dream of carrying, but here too he found several sacks of money -- nearly 1,200 silver, 3,400 copper, and 800 gold. Someone had a spending problem.

Still, upon closer inspection the greatsword appeared enchanted, and he found a longbow under a sagging bed that was unidentified as well. 

In the hold, he found the goods.

There was at least 10,000 gp worth of hard imperial currency down there -- the casino's "bank", it seemed -- plus a horde of statuettes, precious gems and art that probably doubled the total value. Whatever else the three monsters had been up to, one thing they'd mastered was making money on drunk gamblers.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara makes her way through the city, navigating not to her old townhouse, but instead a forgotten clocktower that rests nearby, she ascends to it's peak. Desperately, she spends perhaps a quarter of an hour scrawling new notes in her book, and discenerning further meaning from the arcane understanding she had, meaning to head to the exchange immedietly afterwards.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate is very distracted.   She has become a true _Gish_I, a paragon of everything she ever sought to be!  By the time she notices Barbara wasn't with them, she is away.  By the time it is obvious Barbara isn't coming back, the trail is relatively cold.

*Spoiler:  survival*
Show


(1d20+8)[*21*] Track!

----------


## Molan

Damien ordered Bruce's cruiser to head back to the Merchants' Guild docks. It was still night, but he was able to leave fairly extensive instructions for Fox to pick up the following day. The shell-shocked survivor's of the Casino's boat crew were still not talking, but the Merchant Dock guards were able to take them in and care for them. Damien's request was straightforward; he let Fox know what had happened out on the Queen's River and asked that proceeds from the sale of the now-abandoned boat be distributed to the victims' families, as well as requesting that the Justicars begin looking into the murders connected to the now-deceased mind flayer. When they were done, Damien and Kate took the dark ship back to Wayne Isle, victorious, but quiet and alone.

Relaying what had happened on the boat to the Wayne family was unpleasant. Killing the flayer had been worth it, but it was pretty clear by the time they started recapping the story that Barbara had been horrified by what the illithid had forced her to do. Alfred went down to the Cave's alchemical stores to help start to repair some of Kate's extensive injuries. Bruce and Richard spent only a little time brewing before they each, in their own ways, committed to setting out and finding Barbara. For Richard, that took the form of him abruptly standing up and walking out of the castle, disappearing into the waning night. For Bruce, it meant him retreating back down to the Cave. Damien scampered off on his own, apparently too good to help, but Kate followed her cousin down to the dungeons to see what he might discover.

Bruce made his way to the records room, where he began pouring over a couple of different tomes on the already-crowded desk.

*"What are you looking for, cousin?"* she said, sipping a light healing potion. While he worked, Renee arrived, having heard about the ugly results of the battle, and went to work placing her hands on Kate's chest and back, whispering prayers to allow the holy magic she commanded to bind up the rest of her wounds.

*"Well, I don't know Lady Gordon as well as I probably should,"* he said. *"But so far as I can imagine, if I was suddenly released from a mental dominion and found that I'd murdered a handful of innocent people, I'd either want to run away...or seek vengeance."*

Kate, normally all humorless business, even snorted a small laugh at that comment. *"So...vengeance then."*

Bruce nodded. *"Frankly Barbara didn't strike me as the type to put her head in the sand. But if she feels too ashamed to face any of us, I've got to imagine that whatever she does next will be an attempt at redemption. What do you think she was most preoccupied with, before she left? I have a feeling helping me hunt my little monster wasn't it."*

Kate shook her head. *"Her father is the Lord Marshall of the Justicars. Their ineffectiveness has left the city's citizenry defenseless."*

Bruce looked up at her. *"I don't think Lord Gordon is unaware of that...the challenge is a big one, even for a good man."*

*"Sure. I don't think her father is her concern -- it's corruption amongst the Justicars. She wants to know which Bloodhounds and Commanders, hells, even Lawmen are on the take. If the nobility cannot reply on unreliable application of the law, they will have fewer places to hide their crimes."*

Bruce nodded. He began to scribe down a series of scribbled notes as he poured over his books. Eventually, he stood up and handed the list to Kate.

*"There are three garrisons I know about where some of the more corrupt houses have their hands in the pot. In addition, there are more than a few lousy peacekeepers operating from Justicar's Keep. If you think Barbara's going to go after corrupt Justicars, this is where I think she'd start."*

Kate nodded quietly. *"Thank you cousin. I'll do what I can."*

She turned to march out of the Cave, but before she reached the main entryway, Renee grabbed her by the arm. She looked down at her shorter, better half, hoping against hope that Questor would not try to dissuade her from her quest. She knew seeing her wounded had been agony for Renee, but she had no choice to press on with her quest. But Renee didn't say anything; instead, she pulled her close, risking -- as she so often had -- an injury from one of Kate's spikes, and pressed against her lips for a long kiss.

When it was over, they held each other for a moment, and Kate knew that Renee, of all people, would understand that she couldn't stop now. They had each other's backs, no matter what happened next.

*"Be careful out there. I can always come with you, if you want."* she said.

*"I know."* Kate replied. *"But it'll be alright. Barbara just needs a friend right now, I think."*

Renee smirked. *"But you're a terrible friend!"* she needled.

Kate smiled. It was an almost alien feeling, one she wasn't especially used to. 

*"Fair enough. But we're short on options."*

*"We always are."*

Kate and Renee left the cave and returned to the castle to rest. Oracle was unlikely to make any moves during daylight. Tomorrow night, the hunt would begin.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien goes to bed in a torrent of emotion; they make for strange dreams, in as much as he is able to rest at all after the raid.

*Spoiler: Damien's Knightmare*
Show

(Dream scene pending!)


But he's up early, focused; somewhat angry.  _First, Azraiel abandoned their project before it had begun; a warrior he thought himself capable of respecting, after facing fire and steel together.  Then Spoiler sheared off to pursue her purposes as part of House Kyle's operation.  Now Oracle's will had cracked, and she had vanished to nurse her grief and, for all anyone knew, be a danger to herself or others.  Over what?  Tragic, but collateral casualties?  How did father expect to win his war when his soldiers deserted to easilly?_

The wild charitability of this frame of thought served well to shroud Damien's actual sense of upset from his conscious mind: he had no friends; and the people he so clumsily, ignorantly strove to befriend inevitably recoiled to their lovers, to their mysterious projects, to their isolated crusades.

Soon, Damien finds himself back in the Narrows; scrambling up the side of buildings and weaving his circuitous way to the holdout he found once before; in the same lame disguise he last used.  And the first _catspaw_ he encounters, he lets know: _"I need to see the girl in purple.  Now."_

----------


## JbeJ275

Once Oracle has rested, not slept perhaps at least not for long but rested, she thinks better of her initial action. The Exchange was a vein of the corruption in this city, she needs to strike at its hearts and minds. Thus, after preparing entirely new magics, she drops by the Mage College, intending to purchase a bag of holding. Then she begins her hunt.

It's perfectly rational to start with the Tetch family, they were a target she's already done research on, and one she could match strength to strength. The power of enchantment magic to spread corruption was extremely potent, and she knew they had ties to the corrupt among the justicars. That was why she was waiting so close to their manor at dusk, that and no other reason. Not because the idea of going to sleep while a hostile enchanter was in the same city made her unable to rest, not because the idea of him made her skin rebel, just because it made sense. That was the only reason why.

----------


## Feathersnow

In her glamoured armor and shielded by her mental powers, the huntress slips through the city like a shark...

Her goal, today,  though, is not to strike, but to save.  Her friend is hurting and is out there somewhere. The huntress starts uncertainly, she is a bruiser, and has only limited experience in this sort of work.  She begins as her cousin suggests, checking around Justicar's Keep...

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Justicar's Keep, Midtown*
Show



Kate found Justicar's keep, and spent some time observing the comings and goings from a rooftop nearby; even at dusk and into the early evening, the Keep was one of busiest places in Gotham. Here was where Lord Gordon's power was centralized and consolidated; and given it's location in Midtown, the most populated and chaotic areas of Gotham, it continued to see a perpetual train of people coming and going: criminals recently arrested, patrols of guardsmen returning from their watches, and civilians coming to and from to report incidents, address grievances or bail family members out of the cells.

Kate was vexed. She didn't know any of the people down there, and wasn't familiar with this kind of investigative work the way Stephanie and Barbara had been. She was better suited to confronting her enemy, and destroying them face to face. But without knowing who exactly Barbara was hunting, things got more complicated. 

Eventually, Kate decided there was nothing else for it, and she descended from her perch, and marched into the courtyard directly.

The reaction to her arrival was...mixed. A tall, spike-covered, dark warrior in stylized plate, carrying a huge intimidating looking poleaxe, the grim dire-bat visage of her house emblazoned across her chest. Some of the civilians outright fell over each other to avoid her, others whooped and hollared, seeing the knight who took on the Thieves Guild as a local hero. Yet some of the Justicars actively readied their weapons -- whether it was because they didn't like adventurers who were taking on their responsibilities, or because they took issue with her interrupting the operations of their corrupt patrons, it was hard to say. As she marched through the courtyard toward the inner keep, several armored Lawmen appeared to bar her passage. She was still a few feet from them, unsure of what their problem might be, when a voice off to her side stopped her.

*"My lady?"*

Kate turned around, and saw the half-elf Bloodhound from the Temple of St. Cuthbert, standing there in the yard, a couple of her loyalists nearby, and a hand on the hilt of her longsword.

*"Melig."* Kate said.

*"No offense, noble Dame but what are you doing here?"*

*"We've got a problem,"* Kate admitted, remembering Melig's candor fromt he Temple. *"One of my allies has gone missing."*

*"Ally? Which one?"* said Melig. She was sharp; she was asking with the tone of a friend, but Kate could see her investigator's mind working. Kate was in a bind; she'd visited the Temple with _Barbara Gordon,_ but she couldn't well make that connection for Melig.

*"They call her Oracle,"* she replied. *"She's a powerful diviner. One of the problems we were investigating was corruption within the Justicars."* On that note, she raised her voice ever so slightly, turning her head so that the Lawmen who'd made to bar her passage could hear.

*"You think your missing friend is chasing down dirty officers?"* said Melig.

*"Aye, I'm afraid so. She's gotten loose. We had a bad encounter on the Queen's River...people died. I think Oracle blames herself. I thought she might be trying to take out her frustrations in some kind of productive way, but it's way too dangerous to go alone."*

*"You know, a better Justicar'd just arrest and interrogate you in an attempt to stop you and your friends' vigilantism."* Melig said wryly.

*"Perhaps that's true."*

Melig shrugged. *"Alright my lady, let's get to it then."* she said.

*"Get to what?"*

*"I'm not going to be able to help you figure this out on my own,"* she replied. *"Let's go see the Lord Marshall."*

She marched up to the lawmen who were still milling about in their way, and one of them looked to challenge her.

*"No fuggin' way Melig. That bat witch deserves to be in Manacles, not meeting Lord Marshall Gordon."*

*"Get out of my way, Sir Borath."* she shot back, Kate and some of her own loyalists behind her. *"Or I'll ride over to your house now and tell her exactly where you spend your evenings whenever you claim to 'work overtime'."*

The Lawmen scowled, but eventually yeilded, and Melig brought Kate inside of Justicar's Keep.

*"What do I call you, by the way?"* she said.

*"Don't have much need of a name, to be honest with you. But you can just call me Batwoman."*

*"Fair enough!"*

****

They found Lord Gordon at the top of Justicar's Keep, in his war room, surrounded by his most loyal lieutenants. The expression on his face as Melig walked into his chamber with Kate would have almost been comical if circumstances had been different. 

*"Melig. What in the damn hells?"*


*Spoiler: House Kyle Hideout, The Narrows*
Show

Damien returned to the Kyles, eager to gain some clues as to where Oracle might have vanished. He managed to get all the way back to the Kyle hideout via memory, but when he got there, it was mostly empty. Only a couple of rogues were there that night -- the rest must have been out working. But the ones he needed were present.

*"Spoiler, Robyn."* he said imperiously as he swooped in through the window. *"Where's the Cat?"*

*"Lady Kyle's not here,"* said Stephanie. *"What do you want?"*

*"Something bad's happened. Oracle's gone rogue, I need to find her."*

*"Gone rogue? What does that mean?"* said Robyn.

*"We ran into some trouble. We took out a trio of monsters who were killing a bunch of smallfolk, but it went badly. A bunch of civilians died. Oracle blames herself. Father and Batwoman are worried about what she might do on her own."*

Stephanie and Robyn shared a worried look.

*"Estanna above. That's not good."*

*"Have you heard anything? She could get herself into real danger if we don't help her."*

*"We haven't, not yet. I don't know, something could change but the last time we heard rumors about Oracle it was over work we'd done together."*

Damien was exasperated. He'd come a long way for this. What was the point of these minxes if they didn't have good intel?

*"Have you heard anything that might be useful?"*

*"Nothing specific. The only word on the street right now is that there's been more trouble uptown. Whatever it is, it's making the nobles nervous. And after that sh!t-show in Chelsea, the city's High Lords are starting to get really, really touchy. If you're looking for action, one way or another, it'll either be Uptown, near Sionis Manor, or Downtown, with the Cobblepotts. Sorry little Lord, that's all I know."*


*Spoiler: Tetch Hall, Uptown*
Show



Tetch Hall was a lavish mansion uptown, surrounded by steel gates and topped with what looked like a dozen crenelated towers. Upon initial inspection, Oracle knew she was going to have her work cut out for her. The design of the Hall from every square inch and hedge was elaborate and bizarre in the extreme. Clockwork steel mechanisms spun and chimed along the exterior of the building; the Gates themselves were made of dazzling twisted patterns rather than straight, vertical bars. The castle was a mix of classic human fortification design and eccentric gnomish clockwork mania. From somewhere in the courtyard, gnomish music played, silly and menacing all at once. Ominously, upon close inspection, the defenses of the place appeared formidable. 

Several clockwork golems patrolled the courtyard inside the gates, and Oracle's powers allowed her to detect overlapping, layered arcane defenses covering the place. It wasn't impenetrable, but it was going to be tough. There was virtually no chance there wouldn't be _alarm_ spells and traps covering the place, in addition to some possible abjurations and other more complex wards to prevent teleportation and scrying. The Tetch's weren't going to go down easy.

----------


## JbeJ275

At Tetch Hall Oracle begins approaching, cloaked first in mage armour and secondarily in invisibility. Any capable of seeing beyond that would see her mask emitting a pale blue light from the lenses, a clear indicator of _Arcane Sight_, and currently passing over the wand of Foxs Cunning shed just applied, and mulling once more over the Divine Insight shed been granted.

Her preparations made, she approached the outer perimeter, both her sight and her background magic sensitivity on high alert for outer defenders as she moved forward.

----------


## Feathersnow

My Lord, I am acquainted with a powerful Diviner.  She offered to assist me in the sacred Rite of Rrakma,  where a member of my order confronts and slays a specific kind of telepathic abomination...

The telepath targeted the Oracle over me. This mistake cost it its life, but it took a lot of its relatively innocent thralls with it.  But... to be clear,  it was the Oracle whose hand slew them.

I fear she feels guilt for this violation and will seek some kind of redemption by lashing out at someone. 

At first, I assumed she would target corrupt Justicars, but, if she has, I found no sign of it.

Out of lack of any other options and little time, I thought to ask you if you have some ideas where to look.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle -- Earlier that Day*
Show

Oracle made her way first to the Emporium in midtown, one of the few only licensed Mage College retail establishments allowed in the City. Only licensed magi were allowed to visit, and even with her own license, Barbara still had to pay a 50% premium on goods inside. Still, it was one of the best places to pick up what she needed; the interior was alike an overflowing and overstuffed library, twisting staircases and myriad display cases covered from top to bottom with spellbooks, scrolls, wands, staves, rods, potions, and every other form of arcana imaginable.

At the desk, a gnome with a long conical hat sat scrivening something. Without looking up, he seemed to acknowledge her.

*"What'll it be?"*


*Spoiler: Oracle -- Tetch Hall*
Show

As Oracle approached the fence, she began to deduce the wards attempting to bar her path.

Along the fence, about every fifteen feet or so, at the large stone connective pillars between the ornate and twisted iron bars, were _permanent alarm_ spells; the only thing she couldn't be 100% sure of was the type of alarm they would trigger, but it likely didn't matter -- there was a near-zero chance that the alarms _wouldn't_ alert the Golems, so she had to ignore them.

Each iron fencing segment was twisted in ornate, sometimes moving patterns, shifting by some sort of invisible clockwork machinery, how it all worked, she couldn't possibly deduce. Each segment had between two and three ornate flowers worked into the centers of it's twisting patterns; each one of those flowers had a trap spell baked into them. The most common spells by far were _hypnotism_ and _sleep_ spells. But there were worse traps than all that, as she worked her way around the fence line. _Touch of Idiocy,_ _Tasha's Hideous Laughter,_ _hold person,_ _confusion,_ _symbol of sleep,_ and _symbol of persuasion_. Her magic allowed her to pick out where the spells were, and her extensive experience and learning allowed her to ascertain the details. It got worse though; at the top of the _alarmed_ pillars were _arcane eyes_, layered over with powerful _invisibility_ spells. They were less frequent than the _alarms_, but they were incredibly dangerous for any intruder. The courtyard seemed more or less benign itself, other than several _persistent images_ and some _hallucinatory terrain_ though Oracle couldn't make out what the point of any of those effects were -- to confuse intruders? For pure decoration? She couldn't be sure, be resolved to avoid the fake shrubs and statues all the same.

The Hall itself was built from brightly painted metal and stone, and was more of a very elaborate fortified manse than a castle. It was covered over in spires and clocktowers and crenelations that seemed to wrap over and around one another, and it's windows were all filled in intricate stained glass. The spells protecting the walls of the Hall itself were actually divination spells -- specifically _protection from scrying_ and _detect scrying_ spells. The divination counters were placed strategically along various points in the walls, in order to cover windows and provide maximum protection.

Once she'd finished assessing her challenge, she could see a path beginning to form. The golems would be a problem only if they saw her, but the spells themselves, intimidating though they could be, did not provide complete coverage over the fence or the keep within. Knowing where the spells were, she could comfortably circumvent the fence, and seeing the golems allowed we to sneak past them too; though it wasn't obvious that they could even see invisibility; she may have been able to walk right in front of them. The only thing she needed to do was defeat some of the wards around the windows and doors, and she'd be in the Hall.


*Spoiler: Kate*
Show

Lord Marshall James Gordon cut a sad yet impressive figure. He wasn't especially tall or short, but he was tough and strong and muscular, bedecked as he was in a suit of chainmail and half plate, he had a well groomed beard and long red, auburn hair, which was graying as his age slowly caught up to him; that mane was tied back in a warrior's knot, and it revealed a worn and tested face that was handsome but riddled with permanent lines of deep worry. Over his chain he wore a blue surcoat with the coat of arms of the Justicars (also the coat of House Gordon of Justicar's Keep), and carried a classic Knight's accouterments; fine but worn leather belt, a broadsword at one hip, a knife at the other. He was proud and noble in that way, but at the same time he seemed hunched, worried and tired. He almost seemed to sag with the weight of a role to police the Empire's most unruly city, as if the mounting challenges ahead of him were crushing him both physically and spiritually.

*"Diviner you say?"* his voice was calm and even, as if it was impossible for anything strange or dangerous to surprise him. *"This creature, the one you beat, it wouldn't happen to be anything that we were aware of, would it?"* 

Kate could tell this was more of a clarifying question; she could already eye the Harbormaster's report sitting on his desk, next to a copy of that day's Gotham Herald. 

*"We strongly believe the creature was responsible for the Channel Park murders, and the earlier slayings out in the Farm Lords' Pastures. There were also likely a series of victims on South Channel Island that were never reported."*

Gordon picked up the report and glanced over it again.

*"Well,"* he said. *"If that's true, you've done us all a great service. Tell me, did any of the culprits escape, or was it just the one?"*

*"The monster had help. We captured a Medusa it was colluding with, we're currently trying to extract information from it. And there was an Ogre Mage with them, but she got away."*

*"Fair enough. Can I trust if your slithery friend produces any information of use that you'll report it back here?"*

*"I will."* Kate said. *"Now, is there anything you can do to help me find my friend?"*

Gordon put down the paper and walked around the desk, coming to stare out of the room's single, ornate window, down on the grungy Midtown cityscape below.

*"It's funny, you know? My daughter Barbara actually studied quite a lot of divination at the College,"* he said. Kate remained silent. *"Apparently she was quite good at it -- not that I'd be able to tell. The Gordons have largely managed to avoid bringing any magi into the world, for most of our history. Makes us a bit unusual in this town. Still, Barbara was always different. She was special."*

Kate was not an accomplished liar, so she cautiously toed around the subject, to avoid giving anything away. The last thing she needed was for him to ask her any direct questions.

*"What's your daughter do now? Still at the College?"*

James shook his head and laughed. *"Oh no, that life doesn't suit her. She went off to be an adventurer -- good path for a lot of young folks with talent. She was always frustrated by our role in the city; we're constrained by the system. By the nobility. By Imperial law. I can't do what the Dark Knight has often done, attacking these criminal gangs and noble plotters in the dead of night. For the Justicars we need evidence, proof. To build a case. It's slow going, the kind of work that makes you wonder if you'll ever truly make a difference. I think that was just a bit too slow for her."*

Again, Kate elected to remain silent. She genuinely wasn't sure what, if anything she said, might tip the Lord Marshall off.

*"Ah, anyway. Ramblings of an old father. I bring all of this up because she shared a bit with me about her profession. Gave me some insight. As best I can tell, the diviners from the college come in high demand. They can provide things to the City's power players that few other magi can. Sure, there are some who can conjure wondrous creations or loose devastating blasts of destruction, and they have their place. But diviners produce something far more valuable -- information. They're nosy, inquisitive, and secretive all at the same time. Information drives the events in this city, just as much as the arcana does. If I was a rogue diviner, I'll bet I'd be gathering or deploying that intelligence."*

*"Any particular intelligence you think I need to be aware of?"* she asked.

*"Well, you mentioned corrupt Justicars. I'd say that you hurt my feelings just by suggesting such a thing, but..."* he turned towards Melig, and she snorted a short laugh. *"Unfortunately that's a problem I'm all too familiar with. The worst members of our order are, as best I can tell, in bed with a relatively small number of key players. Falcone's one of the worst, he's the Boss of the Gotham Thieves' Guild. They've probably got anywhere from a third to a half of my whole force in his fugging pocket. They're not all irredeemable -- some of them are practically card-carrying Guild members themselves, but a lot of young lads, I think, just feel they have no choice. It's take the bribe or wind up dead at your post one night, unfortunately."*

*"So you think she might be going after Falcone?"*

*"Well, maybe. Falcone's not our only problem. The Bankers are the other one."*

Kate sighed. *"The Banker Houses. The Cobblepotts and their vassals. We've met."*

This time, Gordon actually laughed. *"So I've heard! Well if you've got enough money in this town, unfortunately you can buy damn near anything, and sometimes that includes my own men. And the Bankers, they've got more money than the Emperor. Now, here's the interesting thing about the Bankers. They're controlled by the Cobblepotts -- a Deurgar House. And the Cobblepotts practically control all of Downtown. But the majority of the Banks -- and the Cobblepott vassals -- they're all Uptown. It's all very high society up there, lots of palaces, manors and towers. There's a few places though, that you ought to want to know about. Both the Highborne Bank and the Future's Exchange are up there, and the Bankers control the Queen's Docks and North Point Harbor, too. The Black Tower is uptown; that's the seat of House James, though I'm sure you already knew that. 

But for your purposes,"* by now, Gordon had rolled out a detailed map of Uptown over his already-chaotic desk, pointing out the key areas of interest, *"There are three spots you'll want to check. In South Point, here, you've got Nigma Manor. The Nigma's are elves, real pieces of work."*

*"Yea,"* Kate sighed. *"We've met them too."*

*"Boy you have been busy. But fair enough. Now, Falcone's Guild Hall is...somewhere around here."* he pointed to the Hell's Kitchen Slums. *"He has a huge beer hall in Hell's Kitchen that we thought might lead to the Guild Hall, but we've swept the place in force a ton of times and have never been able to find the entrance. Most of my Bloodhounds think he must have put it somewhere else; uses the Hall to distract us."*

*"Is he ever out in public?"* Kate said. *"Why don't you just pick him up?"*

*"You think it's that easy? What have I been telling you this whole time? Falcone, the Bankers...they're all connected. Imperial law requires that you can pin somebody with actual crimes, but Falcone doesn't do any of his own work, he has the Guilders doing it for him. So if we picked him up on any number of charges, he'd have his backers in the nobility lobby the courts to get him out. When the Dents were still around, and especially during the Wayne years, it might have been easier to make it stick. But now, without catching him in the act, it's nearly impossible. I'm assuming your Oracle is probably aware of all this."*

*"Okay, anything else?"*

*"Yes. Over here, in Grant. This is Tetch Hall. The Tetch's are a Gnomish House."*

*"I've heard of them."*

*"Whelp, there's one thing that binds the Tetch's, the Nigmas, and those scum suckers at the Thieves Guild all together." Their vanity. Uptown is all balls and galas and masquerades. The only thing these crooks like doing more than ripping off the people of Gotham is showing off in front of one another. There's a lot of strange, intra-house politics always at play in those places. And recently, it seems, things have started to really turn ugly."*

*"How so?"*

*"Not too long ago, Sionis Manor went up in flames. Huge crisis for the city, and for the Bankers. We've been investigating the incident ever since -- we thought Harvey Dent might have been involved."*

*"But...?"*

*"But, we haven't been able to find any actual evidence that 'House Dent' has operated anywhere north of Midtown in years. And what's worse, a week ago -- another noble manor went up in flames."*

*"Have there been any survivors from either fire?"*

Gordon's grey eyes stared straight into Kate's.

*"No. No known survivors. The Houses appear to have been wiped out. The Nobles are furious -- if we're not careful, we'll have a civil war on our hands before too long."*

*"Alright, so, what's the connection between the corrupt Justicars and the fires?"*

*"We don't know. But we do know that most of our corrupt 'brothers' are on the take from either the Thieves, or the Bankers. Somebody's been lighting a lot of the Bankers' territory on fire, along with some of the Bankers themselves. If your friend is trying to run down connects between bad cops and the people running them, then I'd bet my coin purse that she'll head to Uptown, to investigate one of these places."*

*"That still leaves me a lot of ground to cover."*

*"You didn't let me finish,"* he smiled. *"I'll bet she's investigating them, and almost all of them are going to be in one place...tonight. There's a masquerade ball this evening, at Hill Hall. All the biggest bankers are going to be there -- except the Cobblepotts, I doubt the Penguin's in any mood for a party. Falcone might even be there himself."*

*"So, if I want to find Oracle, start with the party."*

*"Yes, but be careful, noble Dame."* he replied. *"There's something else that connects those two Uptown fires I told you about."*

*"....let me guess."*

*"The nights of the attacks...both nights...both Houses happened to have been throwing large parties."*

----------


## MrAbdiel

> *Spoiler: House Kyle Hideout, The Narrows*
> Show
> 
> *"Have you heard anything that might be useful?"*


*Spoiler: House Kyle Hideout, The Narrows*
Show



*"Nothing specific. The only word on the street right now is that there's been more trouble uptown. Whatever it is, it's making the nobles nervous. And after that sh!t-show in Chelsea, the city's High Lords are starting to get really, really touchy. If you're looking for action, one way or another, it'll either be Uptown, near Sionis Manor, or Downtown, with the Cobblepotts. Sorry little Lord, that's all I know."*


Damien spluttered, doing his best not to bite on the baited 'little Lord'.  "I'm not looking for action.  I'm looking for -", a pause, "_your_ friend.  The one who you stuck a knife in when you had unfriendly thoughts in _your_ skull. You're the only one of us who has been through something similar to what she's reacting to now.  And you're good at finding people.  And talking to people!  And I don't-...", a pause, "I don't know how to make people _do_ what I want.  Would you come and help us track her down before she does something foolish - or something foolish is done to her?  I don't know if she even remembers we're trying to keep an eye out for _Footpad._  Come on, already!"

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Oracle --- Earlier*
Show

"Hello, do you have any bags of holding? And any of the more finely made rune working equipment sets? I find mine is getting worn out. I'd also like to check for boots of elvenkind if that's not too much trouble. " 


*Spoiler: Oracle --- Tetch Hall*
Show


With the last seconds before she approached, Oracle digs a scroll out of her backpack and unleashes the _Heroism_ spell within.


As quiet as she could, Oracle approaches the wall, getting too close to the alarm traps would be far too troublesome so she instead targeted the more powerful but less constructively useful spell traps lining the wall. Tools in hand she approaches the traps, and begins to work away at the runes binding the spells in there, then quietly she makes her way through the now open gap in the exterior, and past the outer patrol of golems, long quiet strides carrying her out of their reach. Then she approached one of the outer windows, careful hands attempting to dismiss the traps and wards here as well. 

OOC: Taking ten on a disable device check for 32 with my trap finding class ability. Should let me deactivate any spell of seventh level or lower.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Oracle*
Show

*Spoiler: Earlier*
Show

The gnome grunted, and waived his hand in the air in a semicircle pattern. A strange and ungainly homunculus seemed to pull itself together inside a small brass cage, before darting out and running along one of the rafters above the gnome's head, jumping into the inventory in the back and loudly rummaging through a number of items, loudly tossing some aside as it worked. Eventually it came back, carrying four items.

The rune kit came in a lacquered wooden case with a sigil of the College burned into the top; it came with a pair of boots, obvious to any professional to be magic, mostly black but with some stylish yellow embellishments and runes running down each heel. And finally, a pair of bags, each innocuous seeming.

*"Let me see your license."* the Gnome grunted.

Oracle produced it, and the Gnome inspected the enchanted card with a long, strange looking jewler's eyeglass. Runes etched up and down the eyeglass's sides shimmered as he worked.

*"Hmmpf. When you walked in here I'd have taken you for a Master. But this is a journeyman license."*

*"I'm aware."* Barbara was annoyed. This type of high-brow politicking and extortion was one of the reasons she'd left the College as soon as she had left her apprenticeship. *"Just price me out."*

*"Whelp, the boots will be putting you back. 4,000 imperial gold pieces for the pair."*

Barbara sputtered. That was highway robbery. *"Four thousand!? That's highway robbery! Even above cost those things are only..."*

*"Take it or leave it, Journeyman. You need to have much more favor with the College before we'll just start letting you get our wares without a steep premium. Have you ever even contributed to a Spellpool?"* Barbara scowled, but the Gnome pressed on. *"No, I'd thought not."* Oracle just rolled her eyes. *"What about the rest of it?"*

*"Well the rune kit is only 50 gold pieces, so you're in luck. We've got quite a few of these and don't need them all. Just don't go using it to thieve secrets from magi better than yourself. The fifteen pound bag of holding is also on sale; 3,000 gold pieces for a Type 1 bag. However the Type 2's are in higher demand; that'll be 7,500."*

*"Seven thousand, five hundre gold, for a bag that cost less than five thousand gold to make."* Oracle said flatly.

*"Like I said, Journeyman. Take it or leave it."*


*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

It was almost -- _almost_ too easy. Oracle did her work, disabling a section of fence and gingerly moving past the guard golems and illusions in the courtyard. Beating the detection and anti-divination spells around the window wasn't especially hard either; the spellwork was _good,_ but nothing she hadn't seen before. She'd trained for work like this for a long time.

Still, there wasn't much that could have prepared her for what she'd encounter once she finally got _into_ the hall. The interior of Tetch Hall was a riot of colors and oblong shapes, like it was a children's drawing of a castle that had come to life. The carpet running down the corridors was oddly shaped, oscillating in and out, wider in some places and narrower in others. There were often clocks along the colored walls, but they didn't all show the same time, and sometimes they ticked and chimed at odd intervals. It was decorated, more or less, like the home of a posh noble, but just, sort of...an insane one. As she crept into the window, slowly closing it behind her, she didn't see anyone coming in either direction down that corridor, but she did notice _one_ thing that sort of disturbed her.

On a vanity table across the hall from where her window was, sitting up against a wall, in front of a large vase of different colored flowers, sat a large cat. It stared straight at her, despite the fact that it could not possibly see her. Sure, it's enhanced animal senses would have alerted it that _something_ was nearby, and it saw the window open. But it seemed to stare right _at_ her, and rather than look alarmed, it almost seemed to purr and even...smile?

Oracle regarded it nervously, scanning for magical effects. However, their were a lot of them overlapping inside the manse -- the table the cat sat on even had a light illusion dolling it up. But as she began to assess the problem, a large hair bounded down the hall from her left, nearly brushed her knees as it bolted past her, and booked it hard and quick down the other angle of the hall. It came and went so fast she'd nearly caught her breath. But when she looked back at the table for the cat, it was gone.

Up above the flowers, on the wall, facing her, was a large tapestry embroidered with the sigil of House Tetch; a tall gnomish looking hat, and "10/6", a meaningless fraction. But what caught her eye most was the motto eblazoned on an embroidered scroll below it.

*"WE'RE ALL MAD, HERE."*


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You can follow the hare, head the other way, or take a different action as you choose. Knowledge -- architecture / engineering can help you guess some aspects of the layout of the Hall, though you'll take a penalty due to it's madcap design. Any other goals or maneuvers you want to make as you traverse the place just let me know. You haven't yet seen any guards.



*Spoiler: House Kyle Hideout, the Narrows*
Show

*"Alright, fine!"* Stephanie exclaimed. *"Look, I'm not pulling your leg. She hasn't turned up yet -- if I'd heard tell of her blasting anyone with that wand of hers, believe me, I'd tell you. But if she's hunting corrupt Justicars, then if I were you? I'd look into Bullock, the Bloodhound from Justicar's Keep. Word has it the Thieves have their claws in him, and he's an obvious target if Barbara's gone rogue. She even told me about him specifically, once. The only other thing I can offer you is I can try to blend into some of the higher circles Uptown. I still have that false identity Lord Wayne created; there's a big shot party tonight at Hill Hall, if you want, Robyn and I can crash it and work the rumor mill, see if we can come up with any leads on either Barbara or Oracle. Would that help?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien is thrown off guard by what he perceives as a reversal from hesitance to total acquiescence.  He stammers for a moment, very uncharacteristic for the pint-sized hunter-killer, as he is forced to empty his mind's chamber of the loaded rounds of accusation and demand.

"...Y-yes.  That would be... very helpful.  Perhaps, our best chance to find out rumors about her... but even moreso, of activities of the enemy, who she may target."  He looks at his rag-wrapped feet, his prematurely saturnine brow furrowed as he recovers from the unexpected success of his desperate bid.

"...Thank you."

*Spoiler: The Next Step*
Show

Damien will try to link up with Batwoman again if she swings back by the Wayne house within the city proper.  But he'll 'attend' the soiree that Spoiler and Robyn are going to.  Naturally, he'll do so crawling through the rafters rather than bumbling his way through the social minefield!  But he wants to keep an eye on Spoiler and Robyn, now he's roped them in - and perhaps lay eyes on some of the criminal _scum_ he hasn't yet seen.  Happy to warp ahead to whatever point you like, Molan.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate storms back to her cousin.  Bruce, I'm going to a party!  I'll need to look my best and have the proper accessories.

----------


## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: Earlier*
Show


"Get me the boots and the smaller of the bags, and the kit too. And thank you for the complimentary reminder to never come back here if I can avoid it." Snarks Barbara back at the shopkeep, before leaving in a slight huff, his aggregations doing nothing to improve her already foul temper.




*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show



Barbara began to breath heavily, siffused as she was by magic and illusion. Frustrated, she focuses her magics to cast _Listening Lorecall_, bringing her heaaaring up to an inhuman level of sensitivity. She lets the new information revealed by her blindsense wash over her, checking if it disagrees with her vision in any way that could reveal the presence of an illusion. 


_"I don't know if I'm mad yet, but this place has certainly got me irritated."_ She thinks, before eventually deciding to quietly follow the hare, listening out for it, or any other creatures all the while, and making as much sense as she could of the magic and madcap architecture all around her.  

*Spoiler: Roll:*
Show


Architecture and Engineering; (1d20+12)[*13*]
Taking 10 for 27 on Listen.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Wayne Castle, then Hill Hall*
Show

 it was still only mid evening when Kate burst back through the doors of Wayne Castle storming through the Great Hall and into the lair in the caves below the keep. The look on Bruce and Alfred's faces was priceless; not only did Kate's striking and intimidating façade seem to suggest that she was the kind of person who would never willingly attend a social event, but the very idea of dressing up the terrifying half demon seems to knock both men on their heels.

And yet, despite their surprise, Bruce seemed to recover quite quickly.

*"Fair enough cousin. I'm sure we've got something that will work; found a lead, have you?"*

Sir Alfred had some cheeky remarks of his own about just what he could drum up that would suit their spiked guest, but at Bruce's request he dutifully brought Kate up to one of the wings of the castle that had once belonged to Bruce's mother. Though the Wayne family's more elegant days were long behind them, they were still rich, and attended by servants and endowed with finery such that their wardrobes would last for many years. Alfred searched through the apparel that he had available; silken gowns of lace, embroidered with gold and silver, verdant greens and Robin's egg blues, and all manner of feminine accoutrements. Yet has Kate stood by and watched, Bruce's retainer seemed dissatisfied with his choices. He discarded each and every item in the wardrobe almost as quickly as he looked at it. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to take the assignment seriously: if Bruce's cousin was going to go to a fancy ball, she was going to look the part.

Fortunately, Gotham was a strange city. It had strange traditions in customs, and it tastes were a good shade darker than those of the capital or other large cities such as Metropolis. And so it just so happened that the late lady Wayne possessed some garments and items that were not frilly, or pretty or gentle. They were elegant, and feminine sure. But these were the garments that gothamite nobles war to stand out. To show that they were from the darkest and grimmest city in the empire. Motifs of dire bats, demons, and snarling dragons, filled the rearmost section of her closet, and Alfred finally produced something that matched his standards.

*"Well here you are, Dame Kane. I trust this set will suffice for our needs this evening."*

Alfred left, departing to the anteroom in case Kate needed his services again. After a while she emerged from the inner chambers, now fully bedecked in the garments and jewels he'd selected.

*"Well then,"* the old knight gasped. *That is a bit of a sight, isn't it?"*

Kate was draped from neck to floor in a full length, blood red gown, stylized with a near supernatural degree of artistry to depict the grim, sardonic demon motifs so popular with the city's nobility. Her abdomen and chest were the canvas for a howling demonic face, backed in black lace. Her shoulders, several sneering maws, the spikes from her shoulders protruding from prefixed holes in the garment as though it had been crafted just for her. Ghoul's danced along the gown's skirt and traces of fiery waves ran up her arms. Against her dark skin and the spikes extending from her body, she looked like an artist's portrayal of the very Queen of the Hells themselves.

*"Well, you certainly were born for this."* was all Alfred managed.

*"Parties? Think again, noble sir."*

Alfred snorted. *"With all due respect, Dame Kane, that is not what I meant."*

*******

Bruce arranged for Damien and Kate to be transported to the Hill Hall Ball (couldn't help myself, sorry) in one of House Wayne's old formal, black carriages. Sir Richard joined as Kate's knightly escort, and Damien was dressed in his full kit, planning to use the carriage to get him close enough to sneak into Hill Hall, rather than actually attend the party. Alfred and a hooded coachman rode out front to lead the horse team, providing the entire ensemble with a very self-important, noble accouterment. 

*"When we get there, we just need to determine if we can find any of Oracle's likely targets,"* Richard was saying. *"Blend in with the crowd, see if we can pick anyone out. If we find what we're looking for, or better yet, if we find Oracle, we can meet up to strategize our next move on the ballroom floor."*

*"I'm not really much of a dancer, Sir Richard."*

*"That's fine. Damien's not really much of a hero but we all make do."*

Damien peevishly tossed a walnut at Richard's head, and he laughed, seeming perfectly at ease despite the uncomfortable situation they were all in. Even Damien looked somewhat excited -- after all, he wasn't draped in a ball gown and was going to be doing what he did best. What was there to frown about?

Like so many Uptown manors Hill Hall was surrounded not by a proper stone curtain but by a long iron fence, guarding off the inner courtyard but still allowing the common folk to see inside. The building itself was made of stone, giving it a more imposing quality, but it was largely built for elegance, not defense, which was obvious enough for any military observer. Alfred got them past the gate guards quite easily by merit of the pro-forma invitation House Wayne had been extended, and soon, Richard and Kate were disembarking from the carriage near a long and elegant hedge wall, just a short walk away from the Hall's main doors. Damien was able to depart the carriage quite easily via a hatch in the rear, and made good his vanishing act by ducking past the hedges. The operation was on.

Inside, the party was as grand as it was elegant. After several antechambers and foyers they found the main banquet hall, which featured a magnificent glass ceiling, several beautiful hearths, a great head table beneath a massive stained glass rose window, which seemed impossibly large as it loomed over the assembly, Gotham's bright moon shining through it. In the main hall, it was all pomp and high society, lords and ladies in elegant clothes carousing and drinking and gossiping with one another. Lord James himself, the master of the city, sat at the head table next to his hosts. He was wearing elegant black robes that befitted his rank and station as a mage, and his wife wore a matching but vastly more elaborate tight black dress to match. Most of the guards at Hill Hall were the host's House Guard, primarily men at arms carrying spears, painted shields and long tabards over suits of chainmail. But there were two House James guards behind the "royal" family; a pair of spellswords in heavy gothic plate stood quietly behind the preceding's.

Some of the other large rooms in the Hall, however, were not so decorous. Wandering around Kate found more than a couple orgies, dens of revelers doing drugs, gambling, and even betting on fistfights. The party, on a whole, was a microcosm of Gotham's nobility in one shot: elegant, rich, glamorous, self-possessed, disgusting. Kate eventually found her way back to the main room and joined Sir Richard on the dance floor.

*"Find anything?"* he whispered, as they danced a slow circle through the ballroom floor. *"Not really,"* Kate sighed. *"I wonder if we were misled."*

Up in the drafty rafters of the massive hall, however, Damien crept upon a ledge, invisible to the partygoers below. His eyes continued to scan the crowd, looking for..._something_. As he watched, he finally caught a familiar sight; Robyn and Spoiler, looking much more regal and elegant than they had at the House Kyle hideout. Spoiler wasn't kidding; she'd cleaned up nicely, draped in the masterwork noble finery that Bruce had provided her to match her alias. Robyn was similarly dressed up, though Damien could deduce that her outfit was actually more for show, less the real thing -- she was using her stage performer's apparel to _look_ noble, but narrow observation revealed her clothing wasn't quite as fine as Stephanie's. Damien squinted down at his two "allies", trying to almost will them to do something useful. Interestingly, they walked onto the dancefloor, and began twirling and cavorting together. Despite the elegance of their dance, Damien quickly deduced it had a purpose -- before long, they had positioned themselves right next to Sir Richard and Dame Kane, who were moving much more slowly and awkwardly.

*"Sir Grayson, oh my."* Spoiler cooed, her noble's accent straining credibility, but only somewhat. *"You're even more handsome than I'd imagined? Mind if we switch partners?"*

Robyn and Spoiler looked completely at ease in this sort of situation, while Kate and Richard were a fair bit stiffer. But they bowed, and exchanged dancing partners dutifully all the same. Spoiler grabbed Richard's arm and wrapped it firmly around her waist, pressing herself close to him as they slowly waltzed across the floor. Robyn treated Kate with just a bit more care, though that might have been more to avoid stabbing herself than out of any degree of shyness.

*"Seems we've got a jackpot on our hands, wouldn't you say?"* Stephanie whispered. Richard was confused. *"Really? I haven't seen anything or anyone interesting -- no Lord Nigma, no Lord Tetch. Seems like this was a bust."*

*"You're not looking hard enough,"* she hummed. *"Did you notice Lord James was here tonight?"* He nodded; of course he had. *"Don't you think it's interesting that the Lord of the city is attending a party in full view of Boss Falcone?"*

Over with Robyn and Kate, a similar dialogue was playing out. Kate felt her cheeks get warm; it occurred to her she didn't actually know what Boss Falcone _looked_ like. *"What!? Where?"* she blanched. 

Robyn nodded her head to one of the side tables...and there he was. Boss Falcone, leader of the Gotham City Thieve's Guild. Kyself Velnire's boss, and one of the most powerful crime lords in the city. He wore a simple but incredibly well made violet silk tunic, covered over by a black sash, and was sipping wine out of a large goblet while laughing at a joke he himself had told. His retainers all clustered around at his table with him; they looked high born, but they had to be ranking Thieves Guild members themselves, likely part of Falcone's inner circle, though Velnire was not among them. Each of the Thieves bosses had several women hanging around them.

*"What the hell is he doing here? Where are the Justicars?"* but Robyn just shook her head. *"You know the answer to that. The Justicars don't have anything on him. And if Lord James is here, what in the Hells is Lord Gordon going to do about breaking Falcone's stranglehold, anyway? If Falcone gets up and shoots Lord James in the face with a magic missile, right here, right now, then maybe they'd have a shot at him. But..."*

*"If one of the men at that table with him did it, Falcone would still walk."* Kate finished the sentence for her, remembering her conversation with Lord James. *"Bingo. But still..."*

*"...if Falcone and James are here, then you can bet money this is the kind of place some of Oracle's corrupt Justicars will be hanging out at."* Spoiler was saying to Richard. *"We just need to find a couple of them, and follow them home after the party. If they're Bloodhounds or Lawmen, dollars to donuts they'll be on Oracle's list."*

The dancing partners parted ways again, rejoining their original companions. The plan was clear -- split up into teams, and scan the party manually for Justicars, or any sign of the Nigmas or Tetch's. Robyn and Spoiler headed towards the main anteroom at the entrance of the hall to start their search, while Richard and Kate headed for a side chamber.

But up in the rafters, Damien could feel that something was...off. Or wrong. Right before he heard it. He wasn't sure if it was the whisper of the wind or he'd actually heard someone scream, but something made him want to wind his way back towards the entrance to the keep to see what was going on outside. He never quite made it that far; there was a loud crash and a bang, followed by the definite sound of screaming, just beyond the doors to Hill Hall. Damien picked up on the commotion far before any of the Lords and Ladies down at the party did. But he was ultimately too late to get outside and doo anything, before the party crashers got in.

The main doors to the keep burst wide open, and a gang of soldiers poured in. Outside, Damien could see that a carriage was on fire, and several other noble carriages had bee knocked over or moved aside in the elegant reception area where so many partygoers had arrived and departed from. Other carriages had replaced them, these looked more like War Wagons, and each was painted with the grizzly image of a grinning skull, all black, on a white backdrop.

As the heavily armed men stormed the anterooms of the party, they swept through the festivities, cutting down House Guards and partygoers alike in an orgy of blood and violence, even as the party in the main hall carried on, ignorant of their presence. The host had to be at least sixty men strong; not an army, but more than enough to wipe through the ceremonial defense of this mansion. They split into four groups. One went north, through the Hall's north wing to find more victims to murder, and another went south, following a similar pattern. A third, small group of about six men stayed behind in the receiving area where Damien was crouched, ensuring no one escaped or ran, and securing the entry and exit to the hall. And the final group, comprised of at least twelve men, including their leader, stormed the main party hall, where they kicked open the doors to the shock and dismay of the nobles inside.

Most of the men wore heavy black armor, and carried all manner of vicious looking weapons. Some of them crackled and sparked and sputtered angry magic similar to the armaments that Damien had seized on South Channel Island. But each of them wore a peculiar helm -- they were all black metal helms, that covered their entire faces, and each one bore a unique, sneering visage; the face of a ghoul, a vampire, a demon, or a skull. Each and everyone of them unique and terrible in their own way. The one leading them stood out; his armor was painted white, which made it all the more stark as his twin swords cleaved and rent the partygoers in his path, smattering himself with blood. The clothes he wore under his armor were black, and his helm was black too -- the sinister, searing visage of a black skull. He kicked open the main doors, and when he entered the room and his men began to flood into it, he pointed one of his blood-soaked blades at Lord James from all the way across the hall.

*"Ah, there he is, the pretender in chief himself!"*

Robyn and Spoiler were caught completely off guard. One of the men tried to take Robyn's head off, after removing the arm of a woman standing next to her. Spoiler pushed the man away to save Robyn's life, but in so doing to soldiers violently grabbed her, and one pressed a knife to her throat. Another stepped down to grab Robyn, and when she resisted, he punched her in the head, taking another hostage. Two other soldiers seized a man and woman each, bringing the hostage count to four, while several others moved to seal off the room and keep the nobles inside, killing any house guards that got in their path.

*"Ah how I have longed to meet you!"*

At his table, for the first time all evening, Falcone looked flustered and angry. Whatever skullduggery the thieves had been up to, this wasn't a part of their plan. Off to the side, Richard and Kate remained hidden in the crowed, having not been near the doors when the marauders entered.

James stood up at his table, red in the face, while his wife tugged on his arm, encouraging him to sit down, perhaps to avoid trouble.

*"Wh...what. What is the meaning of this!?"* he demanded. *"Who are you!?"*

*"Oh, who am I?"* Skull-helmed man said, walking slowly into the room, two swords at his sides, dripping blood along the elegant carpets as he walked. *"Oh, ho ho. You have no idea what you just asked."*



*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Oracle struggled to make sense of the twisted palace. It seemed to have been designed deliberately to confound unwanted guests, or by a lunatic...or both. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating, though she was, at some length able to find herself in what looked like the "main" hall of the keep, after having followed the hare. The manor was largely empty; there were a number of suits of armor bedecked with fantastical paterns guarding some of the entryways, but her senses showed her that they were purely decorative. Oracle _knew_ for a fact the Tetch's would have better defenses than this, but so far, the journey had been fairly uneventful.

Eventually though, her senses rewarded her. She could hear something -- was it...laughing? It was coming from West of her current position, past a massive pair of oak doors that seemed to lead somewhere important. Whatever was waiting behind that door, it was clear that was the direction she needed to go. And, as if on cue, the hare suddenly appeared again out of a side corridor. _Hadn't I been following that thing??_ It bounced around the main hall for a moment before disappearing into a trap door in the great oak gate, sticking it's head back through for a moment, and stare at her, before vanishing once again. When the hare's door had opened, she swore the sound of laughter got louder.

Oracle approached the door. As she did so, she continued to scan for more magical hazards. On another end table beneath a portrait near the door, the cat had reappeared. It stared at her, cocking it's head to the side, it's tail swinging slowly from the side of the table. Above it, an impossibly large portrait of what could only be Lord Tetch loomed. She struck him as a quintessential, if menacing looking gnome; big nose, scraggly white hair protruding from both sides of his head, elegant but ill fitting coat, vest, and breeches, and a long gnomish top hat. He seemed to stare right back at her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make a Spot Check, Search Check and Will Save.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damn! Coming apart so swiftly.  No Oracle in sight, but one that could definitely have used her prowess.  Too many soldiers to fight - atleast, all at once.  But just as with the siege at the Motte, the truth was they needed only do enough damage to make the enemy nervous; not to slay them all.  And he could hardly leave the others to die.

First, these six; furthest from the action, most likely to fall without bringing the whole house down.  Vanishing in an unseen puff of vapor, Damien focuses, holds his breath, and releases three swift shuriken down at the top profiles of the men below

*Spoiler*
Show

Gonna take a big risk and try dual wielding.  Flat foot acs.  Damien drinks a potion of longstrider in the precombat, then launches three shuriken at three targets.  Range penalty and invisible bonus cancel out so its just -8 on the primary attack, -4 on the next.
(1d20+7)[*17*]
(1d20+11)[*31*]
(1d20+10)[*19*].

Gotta go into work now but if any of those hit Ill roll damage in the OOC.  Fortunately I am invisible so they wont know exactly where they came from!

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## Feathersnow

If you weren't looking you would have missed Kate jump through first time and then space, taking Bruce, Lord James,  and a third random bystander out of harm's way and back to the Wayne's coach.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Approaching the door, Oracle began to feel slightly woozy. Her enhanced senses allowed her to ensure that she hadn't tripped any alarms, but a vague voice in the back of her head, did, for a moment, warn her that she might have tripped _something._ She suddenly felt as though she was falling, and that the entire room around her was getting larger -- or was she getting smaller? She thought for a moment that, as she "shrank", she could see the cat on the table smile at her -- but not in the way that a cat would, but a big, wide, toothy smile, too wide and garish for any regular animal. 

_Only a few find the way...some don't recognize it when they do -- some...don't ever want to..._ It seemed to speak to her, in her head, but it's sing-song-like riddle made no sense. Yet despite that, she felt an overwhelming compulsion that the cat was urging her to open the great wooden door.

She hadn't been caught completely unawares -- her training had long taught and prepared her to resist mind affecting spells. She gritted her teeth, found her center, and willed the compulsion off, shaking her head and tensing her whole body. After a moment, she opened her eyes, which she hadn't realized she'd squeezed shut, and the strange falling sense of vertigo had abated. She was there, back at her regular size, standing exactly where she'd been a moment ago, in front of the large wooden doors. The cat was gone.

Again.

After a moment, she was able to examine her surroundings. Eventually, she found the trapped area she'd wandered into; she'd triggered yet another of the seeming endless series of Enchantment spells draping Tetch Hall. _How does anyone walk around in here?_ she wondered.

Fortunately, she now had more time to examine both the door before her and the space between herself and the barrier. There was -- shock of all shocks -- another spelled area, identifiable by incredibly tiny glowing runes that were etched into the side of the stones on the floor in such a way that they were practically _between_ the tiles. The area was approximately ten by forty feet, long then wide. Dangerous, but navigable. She barely needed to regard it for more than a moment before recoiling from the second trap. It was a _dominate_ spell.

She could still hear what sounded like laughter coming from the direction of the door. Upon further inspection, it looked like it was locked tight, and only the small trap door near the bottom for the household pets to traverse seemed to allow a way in. Finally, Barbara was resigned. She needed to gain higher ground.

She unfurled the hemp climbing rope she kept on her belt and used it to hook a deranged looking gargoyle statuette high up near the ceiling. Above it was a glass skylight; this barrier required even more disarming, as the sky light was also alarmed and warded against divinations, but eventually she got out of the deathtrap corridor and onto the roof of the central keep.

When she rejoined the evening Gotham air, her head suddenly felt a fair beat clearer, and more lucid. Tetch Hall was draped with so many spells that even an accomplished Arcanist like Oracle felt a smidge delirious after leaving. She'd need to keep this trip contained and to the point. Out on the roof, she could hear the raucous sounds of the city, including loud "bangs", screams, shouts and other clamors. Even at night, when the city was at it's most dangerous, it was never fully quiet.

It was easier to navigate out here, and more then that, she noticed that there was another glass dome atop the Hall's main keep further along the roof, though she had to be careful as she approached it. It stood out because, among other things, it periodically flashed different colors, as if being lit by a raucous faerie fire light show from below.

*"Bingo."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You are entitled to Listen, Search, and Spot here, but do not have to reroll anything if you don't want to and I can use your earlier results. In addition, in order to make your way over to the dome _quietly,_ you will need a Balance check due to the terrain.



*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Kate arrived outside of the manor, only a few carriages down from where she'd intended, having brought Lord James, his wife, and a third, unnamed noble with her. Each of her three rescues looked at her with shock and awe; still bedecked in Alfred's fantastic, demonic choice of eveningwear, still covered in her signature spikes.

*"Wha...who are you!?"* James finally huffed.

*"No time for that, Lordship. Please hide somewhere the raiders won't see you."*

Lady James tugged on his arm, looking panicked, and Lord James snarled, muttering something under his breath. He pulled a scroll from his robe, grabbed his wife's arm, and began chanting. After a moment he and Lady James were both ensconsed in a bright flash of light, and they each promptly vanished. The third noble just stood there, slack jawed, looking where the city's Lord and Lady had once stood, then back at Kate again.

*"Hide curse you!"* she huffed, exasperated. The noble obliged.

To her relief, the raid that had ignited or turned over a number of the fancier noble carriages hadn't reached or apparently noticed the Wayne carriage. Sir Pennyworth and the Coachman were both still there, though Alfred had now armed himself with his terrifying, signature magical heavy repeating crossbow, and was covering the carriages' immediate area with it when Kate approached.

*"Dame Kane. Lovely to see you again so soon. Looks like the mood of the party's turn't a bit, 'asn't it?"*

*"Just a bit, Sir Pennyworth."* was all Kate had time to say.

The coachman didn't need much instruction. Though he was hooded and his mouth was covered, his eyes went wide when Kate masterfully hooked her thumbs under the shoulders of her dress, scrunched her shoulder blades together, and pulled down, disrobing completely. That would, she imagined, be a sight the poor coachman would not soon forget. But he had the wherewithal to turn around and grab the tunic that went under her armor as she removed her earrings, and with his help she'd soon donned her glamoured wargear in under two minutes. At last, he handed her her poleaxe. 

*"Safe travels, Dame Kane."* Alfred called as she turned back towards Hill Hall. As he spoke, he loosed a crossbow bolt, which was itself wreathed in violent energy. It smashed into a loose looter from the raider's group, engulfing him in arcane fire and killing him instantly. Alfred calmly reloaded.

*"I hope to see you back here shortly."*

*"Don't wait up, Alfred."* was all Kate uttered back, before charging back towards the manor.

*******************************

Inside the foyer, Damien loosed three shuriken from the heights of the rafters. One of them _pinged_ off of his intended target's armor, but the other two sunk deep. One man cried out in pain, and Damien couldn't help but snigger as he was sure he'd hit a kidney. The other man caught the throw in his neck, and he clutched at the blood pouring out of his wound and sank to the ground, doomed.

The other men looked up, and their sergeant hissed in anger. Each man removed a heavy looking crossbow from a sling on his back.

Damien noticed two other events happening simultaneously. In the great hall, the raider leader howled in anger.

*"Where the hell did they go!?!?"* he demanded. Whoever he was, he sounded fully deranged.

The other thing Damien noticed was Kate, now somehow in full battlegear and somehow charging _towards_ the keep from _outside,_ rather than out of the keep from the ballroom, where he'd left her, Spoiler, Richard and Robyn only moments before. Several heavily armed raiders were chasing her in, though she seemed not to notice. Back inside the hall, the black skull man kept screaming. *"Find them...find them all!" If they don't turn up soon, I start carving up faces."*

This was pure chaos. Damien'd sunk at least two victims...well, perhaps one and a half, though the kidney-guy didn't look like he had a ton of fight left in him, already...and had four shooters left in this gallery. The skull man had his crew in the ballroom threatening to cut peoples' faces, more raiders were outside, chasing Kate _in,_ and two other squads roamed the castle. Not to mention, he had no idea at this point whether Robyn, Spoiler and Richard were doing alright inside.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

I still need initiative from Kate, then the real fireworks can begin.

----------


## JbeJ275

When advancing over the uneven tile Barbara realised she would give her position away far too quickly with even her adept knowledge of moving over rooftops and through routes unseen. Thus she calls upon the knowledge of a minor god of thieves, discharges her divine spell as she does so and recieivng great competency in balance in return, hopefully enough to bear her to wherever on this roof she needed to go. She was thus left purely to her own merits when it came to detecting danger ahead of or around her. 


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Balance (Discharging Divine Insight for +15 to the roll): (1d20+28)[*40*]
Spot: (1d20+9)[*29*]
Listen: (1d20+17)[*18*]
Search: (1d20+21)[*31*]

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

The helmeted goons roughly searched the nobles in the main hall, causing all manner of panic and distress, but as the commotion spread, Boss Falcone stepped down from his table, towards the center of the dance floor. He was flanked by his lieutenants; their escorts had since made themselves scarce. 

*"Just who exactly in the Hells are you, anyway?"* Falcone sneered. He was angry, but didn't seem overtly afraid, despite the stakes of the situation. He looked threatening, more than anything.

*"Ah,"* the man in the black skull helm acknowledged. *"Boss Falcone. Should have figured you'd be sipping back wine with the city's most important people."*

*"Oh yea?"* Falcone drawled. *"Well then why'd you have to crash our party? Must not be a very important person."*

*"Oh, no, no no no. I'm not important, and neither are you. I'm your newest competition. I'm here to pull the mask off of the scum sucking liars that call themselves this city's nobility. And there's only one thing I need to finish the peeling."*

Falcone laughed. His lieutenants laughed. No one else laughed. *"Oh, my competition eh? That really is something. A bunch of idiots in helmets I've never heard of are going to knock out the Thieves Guild? Tell me, Mr. Hot-shot black skull man, what is it you need from us?"*

*"You can call me Black Mask."* the skull helmed psychopath hissed back. *"And all I need to know, is this: where is Harvey Dent?"*

Falcone snorted. *"Hells below, that's why you came here? To track down Harvey Two-Face?"*

Black Mask slowly approached Falcone and his coterie, his swords still dripping blood across the floor, leaving a faint trail behind him as he advanced. *"Just tell me, old man, and we can make this quick. Where is Harvey Dent?"*

But Falcone didn't budge.

*"You know, I didn't think this was possible, but you really are dumber than you look."* he spat. *"Half the city's been looking for Harvey Dent ever since that unholy freak of nature showed up. Hells, half of the College is lookign for him. You think Dent would still be alive after pissing off half the city's crime lords all these years if he was easy to track down? Besides, what do you want with the Dents anyway."*

*"Dent has the Key."* Mask hissed. *"He must, or else he never would have hit the old Wayne vaults. And if he has the Key, that means he's got a way of controlling the Beast. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."*

*"Oh, I've thought about it."* Falcone said cryptically. *"But maybe I'm just not that afraid of ghost stories and monsters lying under my bed. Maybe, like a smart person, I realize that there's no fuggin' way to control that beast, and there's no point in it either. Maybe I've just spent a bit more time actually using my brain than you have."*

*"You're either an idiot or a liar,"* Black Mask replied. *"Ever since the Dark Knight showed up, there's only been one thing in this city it's Great and Powerful fear. Now there's two. Either that monster killed the Dark Knight, or he came close. Either way, whoever controls the beast, controls Gotham. And buddy, let me tell you...that sure as sh!$ ain't gonna be Harvey Fuggin' Dent."*

*"It ain't gonna be you, either."* Falcone hissed back.

*"Alright,"* said Mask. *"I've had enough of this. Let's start peeling these masks off boys. Show the people of Gotham who their leaders really are."* 

If anyone in attendance, Stephanie included, had any illusions about what Mask meant by "peeling", more than a few of the thugs pulled razor sharp knives out of their belts. But before anything started getting truly gruesome, a voice spoke out from the crowd. 

*"Oh, I don't know."* came a familiar sounding voice. *"I think I like them better with their faces on, if it's all the same to you."*

From somewhere off to the side of the room, there was a dark blur, a loud *thud* and a particularly large, muscled enforcer with a greataxe was suddenly and violently hurled halfway across the room, landing with a crash on the dance floor. His assailant appeared a moment behind him, landing silently with the grace of a cat just a bit past where the man had fallen. He wore the black finery that he'd been dressed in at the beginning of the party, but had produced a fair bit of excess fabric from the neck of his tunic, that climbed halfway up his head and perfectly covered the lower half of his face. He had black hair, tied back in a ponytail, and he'd laid out a very well armed and armored thug without apparently carrying any weapons at all.

*"Black Mask is kind of a stupid name."* he snarked. *"But you can call me Nightwing."*

As if anticipating immediate bloodshed, Falcone stepped back, and each one of his friends drew knives and short swords from underneath their clothing, their ugly faces snarling with murderous rage. Stephanie and Robyn's captors held on onto them, but most of the other nobles were released, as the enforcers prepared themselves for a fight. The Thieves Guild men lunged at Black Mask, but he seemed to relish the assault, parrying and stabbing as they came on. The first lieutenant took a sword in his side, the second looked stunned even after his throat was abruptly opened, and the last one was brought down in an elegant, skillful three part maneuver that lobbed off his arm and opened his stomach. The remaining Lieutenants didn't jump after Mask quite as fast -- they cautiously circled, not eager to follow their friends so fast into the grave.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn.



*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Inside the skylight, Oracle found an incredibly bizarre scene. The ballroom below looked like it'd been the sight of a riotous party that had lasted for the better part of a year. It was an unholy mess; a riot of broken cups and colorful but stained tapestries running all over the place. A long banquet table ran down the middle, and it was covered in all manner of half eaten meals and partially spilled drinks. Yet the party also did not appear to be over; a group of figures laughed and cavorted and played down below. They were mostly gnomes, but Oracle noticed what looked like a wererat hybrid, and another lycanthrope she didn't recognize, who appeared to have the features of a hare. They were often raising their cups in toasts of one another, drinking long and deep, laughing and carousing all the while.

*What is this place?* she wondered to herself.

The skylight was...trapped. Because of course it was. Two rings of runes ran around either side of it's base, one for detecting scriers and another for enchanting would be break-in-thieves. The enchantment was strange, however. Scrutinizing it closer and relying on her arcane training, she realized what it was that was different. The spell would enchant anyone unfortunate enough to trigger it, then carried instructions that the unfortunate burgler immediately have to follow. Despite the risks of loitering longer, she took the time to unravel what they were:

"Walk off the roof."

Charming.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien grimaced as one of his shuriken pinged off the armor of its intended victim. 

_Foolish.  Slow is Smooth. Smooth is Fast._

The riot proceeding in the main hall was bad - but he heard Grayson's voice, and had not heard Robyn or Brown cry out; which certainly either would have done if the other was harmed.  They had time. The passage of seconds, atleast; and with Kane roaring up toward the entry hall, the need to thin out the opposition was dramatically escalating.

The mystic gift of the League wore of - just for a moment, a half-second - in which he was a visible skulker lurking in the fathers.  Then with a wisp of smoke he was gone again, and two more shuriken scythed out from the dark towards the henchmen below...

*Spoiler: Attack!*
Show

Just a Full Attack, this time - if these guys are rockin' full plate, the numbers aren't going to work out for a no-feat dual wield!  Two shuriken, neither poisoned, towards two fresh goons.  The badly injured one I'll trust to either withdraw in good order, or to be offhandedly dropped a little later.  But *before* the attacks, swift action to turn invisible (5/7 Ki Remaining).  *After* the attacks are complete, 5ft step to readjust in the rafters to make blind crossbow retaliation a degree more futile.  Attack modifiers: -2 for range, +2 for invisible.  Attacking flatfoot.

(1d20+15)[*20*], for (1d2)[*2*] damage and (5d6)[*20*]. = 22 Damage
(1d20+10)[*29*], for (1d2)[*2*] damage and (5d6)[*21*]. = 23 Damage

Then 5ft scoot!  It's the *Goons' Turn!*

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Damien's shurikens flew down into the foyer, and two fresh thugs suffered painful looking, blood drawing strikes to the poorly or unarmored parts of their body, crying out in pain.

The sergeant leading them realized he was in trouble; one of his men dead, three wounded.

*"We need to get out of this space. Call the north and south wing groups back, then regroup in the ballroom."*

The man who was still standing revealed something new about himself, once he removed a pendant from under his banded mail that resembled the holy (or "unholy") symbol of Zarus. He also removed a scroll from his belt, marked with holy sigils, and began praying. After a moment, the script faded from the scroll and the cleric dropped it. The sergeant, meanwhile, held a shield above his head and quickly began jogging back towards the ballroom where more of his allies were located.

Inside the ballroom, things got dicey. Nearly half the thugs began removing enchanted light repeating crossbows from their slings, sheathing their melee weapons. They others ran towards the center of the room, where Nightwing had made himself a target. A bastard sword, halberd, longsword and warhammer all swung in Richard's direction, but he dodged, ducked, and bobbed, gracefully dancing around each one of the inelegant charges. It wouldn't last forever. The first four had reached him but there was another soldier, this one with a greatsword, closing in, and the man with the greataxe was slowly getting up from where Richard had knocked him on his back. 

*"Just tell me what I wanna know, Falcone."* Black Mask hissed, twirling his swords end over end in preparation for the next round of fighting. *"Where is Harvey Dent?"*

From the hallways leading away from the foyer, where nearly two dozen more attackers had split off to sweep the hall, Damien heard the sound of heavy footfalls.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Kate's turn. She is now about 10 feet out of the front door, 20 ft. from the cleric who cast the scroll spell. She had several rounds flying past her head from the False Face wagons out front but nothing lethal or close yet, plus three soldiers just straight up chasing her.

Everyone appears to be packing magical weapons, though the enchantments don't look too dramatic.

Inside the ballroom, next round, you will potentially have four shooters, two thugs holding knives to Robyn and Stephanie, Six melee thugs on Richard and five Thieves Guild Leiutenants facing off against Black Mask.

Damien's wounded victims mostly seem like they've seen enough; they're seeking escape / medical attention rather than trying to fight him to the death. There's no telling if this behavior is typical for Black Mask's crew or if the others will be tougher or not.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate decides to wait on trying anything fancy, and, instead, charges the cleric!

*Spoiler*
Show


(1d20+15)[*20*] to hit
(4d6+5)[*20*] subdual damage

----------


## JbeJ275

With a look of concern at the twisted tea party below Barbara remained in place, cracking the window just enough to let her newly cast _Detect Thoughts_ pass through as she searched the minds below for any knowledge of where they came from, what enchantments they might be under or where Tetch's study or bedroom would be.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Oracle peered down, gathering as much information as she could. It wasn't easy -- the thoughts of the beings below her were a wild, drunken patchwork of nonsense. She was able to determine some identities, though. The gnomes were all House Tetch family members; the lycanthropes, close consorts. Every so often, one of the thoughts she was reading would dwell on the cat she'd seen earlier --- but as soon as it was in their heads, it was gone again. Nobody liked to think about the cat.

Eventually she determined that it wasn't magic that was befuddling or enlivening the partygoers; the source of the chaos was alchemical. It might have simply been alcohol, or it might have been something else. But no one was under any enduring spells. It took her a lot longer than she wanted, but eventually she was left with...maybe a sort of vision, a half formed thought, of something. It was...it seemed like a study, or a lab. The "Hattery". Almost involuntarily, her gaze rose up to the tallest tower, partially crooked, looming over the rest of Tetch Hall.

*"Bingo."* she whispered, noticing the glowing window at the top of the tower.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

The tower is another thirty feet up from where you are. It presents some challenges, however. If you do manage to detect any magic guarding it, you'll have trouble disarming any such traps while you're climbing the sheer side of the tower's exterior, if that's the route you want to go.



*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Kate rushed through the foyer, bowling past the injured helmeted goons on the ground, and swung hard with her pole ax, smashing it into the cleric and nearly bowling him over. He staggered back, nearly keeling over, but not quite unconscious.

In the ballroom, Black Mask continued to square off against the thieves. *"You sure you wanna do this, Falcone? You could give me what I want, make this all a lot easier."*

*"You think just because you got some bruisers and a couple of swords you're a tough guy, huh?"* Falcone retorted. *"You think that makes you powerful? It doesn't. Let me teach you a little lesson, kid. You know what makes for real power in this town?"*

A third voice spoke up, this time from the southwest corner of the room.

*"Madness."* the new voice announced. Black Mask, Falcone and half the room looked towards the voice's direction, all eyes on the newcomer. It was a gnome; big nose, scraggly white hair protruding from both sides of his head, elegant but ill fitting coat, vest, and breeches, and a long gnomish top hat. *"Madness makes might in Gotham City."* he said with a devilish looking grin. Next to him stood a gnome woman, dressed all in white, grinning herself. And flanking him, a trio of what _seemed_ to be gnomish men at arms. Except that it was tough, outside of their height, to tell. Each wore a strange suit of armor; the suits looked like a mix of heavy brigandine and banded plates, but instead of layering one over the other, the suits seemed stitched together to the point of being air tight. Attached to the metal plates was a series of strange pistons running down the soldiers' arms and legs, ending at a steaming, belching power source strapped to their backs. Their heads were covered in what looked like heavy diver's helmets, their visages obscured completely.

The two in front each carried in their hands bows which were levers, small repositories for alchemical fluids, and strung together with a system of pulleys, each augmented with a telescopic sight. The one behind carried a strange looking sword with a moving, serrated internal edge, and carried a large shield with some sort of clockwork mechanism humming inside of it.

*"Fortunately,"* the newcomer gestured towards Black Mask. *"This one will do well. He seems to be quite...powerful...already!"*

*"You calling me crazy, gnome?"* the Black Mask hissed. But the gnome just smiled back.

*"Oh, it's not an insult, friend. We're all mad here."*

With that, the gnome began to spin his hands in a strange pattern, muttering all the time whilst three nut shells bobbed inside a swirling vortex of colorful arcane light in front of him. He unleashed his spell, and the magic danced outwards all around him, ignoring his compatriots but striking a swath of nobles nearest to him and catching three of Black Mask's men in the process. The spell's energy seemed to dance in the eyes of its victims as it took hold, glowing faintly in a kaleidoscope of colors. One of the thugs, and, it seemed, one of the noblewomen, managed to shake off the malevolent energy, but most of the rest of the victims were caught up by it.

One of the thugs turned towards one of his compatriots, and swung his bastard sword hard, clipping the man's arm clean off of his body. Another thug, along with three of the entranced nobles, fled away from the gnome as fast as their legs would carry them. The thug with the crossbow standing behind his friends, despite his dancing, glowing eyes, seemed to retain his senses, calling out, *"What the hell are you doing!? Stop it! The gnome has you under his spell!"*

Virtually everyone else who was affected seemed to babble incoherently, spouting off nonsensical rhymes and chants to themselves. But one -- a portly looking nobleman, covered in jewelry, ran towards the gnome and attempted to stranglt him. He never got close -- the gnome with the moving razor sword cut off his leg as he approached.

*"Tetch!"* Black Mask snarled. *"This just gets better and better."* he turned towards his remaining men. *"Kill them! Kill them all!"*

Nightwing sprang into action first. He dodged another swing towards his head, then wailed away on the opponent in front of him with a flurry of only his fists. A couple of times, the strikes found only heavy armor, and he somehow managed not to break his hands after leaving dents in the heavy steel plate. But another strike landed straight into the thug's neck, and the final blow saw Richard grappling the thug's arm, twisting it, and hurtling him end over end, crashing onto the floor, either unconscious or dead. 

The gnomes in the strange mechanical armor opened fire next. As they knocked and drew back arrows, the weapons hissed and coiled as if the strange machinery was responding to the wielders' commands. When they released their arrows, they *thunked* across the room with terrifying force. One outright killed another one of Richard's attackers, flying straight through the back and front of his plate mail and pinning him to the floor. The other very nearly missed it's target but slammed into a stone pillar, the arrowhead somehow impossibly jutting out the other side.

The rest of the nobles outright panicked, making a mad dash for the doors, wherever they could head. Some of Black Mask's thugs lashed out at them, but most focused on the threats immediately in front of them; threats that seemed to be growing quickly. The thieves guilders rushed in, trying to stab Black Mask to death. He parried, spun, hacked, and slashed, and each time he struck out with one of his swords, a thieves guilder died. A head went flying here, an arm their, guts fell out onto the stone dance floor. Whatever and whoever Black Mask was, he was unimaginably lethal.

Falcone didn't stick around to watch his thugs die, however, instead making his way towards the head table where Lord James had once held court. He whispered into a stone that was hung around his neck all the while, as though talking to it.

Outside in the foyer, Kate and Damien could hear the sounds of pounding feet getting louder.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn, then the False Face Society, then Kate. Another straight charge will take you out of the foyer and into the room, where the closest thugs to you are the ones holding Stephanie and Robyn.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Kane was back.  Good.  Now they can work on getting those blades off Robyn and Spoiler so they can slink away with the scattering nobles and - if they have even a shred of courage in their cootie-filled hearts - return masked to fight.  He trusted the Dame had the same idea; he gambled the goons in the foyer had lost the will to fight, and wouldn't obstruct her.  But he dare not make a strike on one of the two hostage-holders without Kane being ready to attack the other, or vice versa.

Once more, Damien blips into being in the rafters; a crouching gargoyle of black cloth and malicious guile giving the men in the room one more reason to flee.  Then he snaps from sight again in a puff of thin smoke; and in the veil of eyelessness,  drops to the floor with a nimble hop, rolls to his feet, and hunkers just clear of the threshold; shuriken in one hand, blade in the other.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Swift Action: Ninja Vanish (4/7 Ki Remaining)
Move Action: Move 30ft into/toward the ballroom, being careful not to make himself a speedbump for Kate.  Taking 10 on the Jump roll to drop down, so I am considered to have fallen 5 ft instead of 15, and thus take no damage and do not fall over.

Standard action: Ready to throw a shuriken at the unengaged hostage-holder when Kane charges into one of them.  If she elects not to attack either of those two, the readied action will fail and pass. 
 Gambling on combat intuition.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Pandemonium.

Nobles ran in every direction, sometimes slipping on the blood on the floor. There had to be more than a dozen corpses in the ballroom already, and the battle began to reach a fever pitch. Among the unfortunate survivors who'd been hit by the gnome lord's spell, the crossbowman in the ghoul helm who'd admonished his allies for attacking one another turned towards the devilish caster, fury in his still ensorcelled eyes. Wards deflected the enchanted bolt somewhat, but the round still hit the gnome in the shoulder, yielding a cry of anger. It hissed and burned a hole through his coat, as if coated in acid.

The man who'd killed his friend looked down at his body in shock and confusion, seeming to suddenly come to his senses, stunned by what he'd done. He didn't have much time to mourn, however. One of the other enchanted thugs turned towards him and brought his heavy sword down, nearly cutting the first thug in two. The nobles who'd been enchanted all ran, babbled or attacked one another or the other bystanders.

The two remaining False Face archers fired on the gnomes, and one of them landed a hit, rewarded by his attack with a bright flash of fire, momentarily staggering his opponent. The rest rushed Nightwing, surrounding him with four new opponents. He ducked and dove, but the assault was brutal, and before long he'd been cut once, then again, his blood spilling out onto the marble tiles of the floor along with the rest of the evening's victims. One thug landed a final, nasty strike that cut across his chest, causing him to stagger backwards.

In the foyer, the stomping swarm of False Face thugs finally reappeared from their hunting trips, pouring into the space between the ballroom and the main entryway to the keep. The noose was tightening, and rapidly.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's turn. Nightwing takes three hits, most of the other attacks missed. He's still very much up, but he's hurt. Based on what he's done so far, you've watched him beat an armored soldier to a pump with his bare hands, and dodge a flurry of assaults, but he's clearly not invincible.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate has a hard decision.  But, in a sense, it is easy.   There is a foe in front of her, a caster of unknown capacity.  Leaving him behind her wasn't a viable option...

*Spoiler:  attack*
Show


[Roll]1d20+12[roll] to hit
(4d6+5)[*20*] damage

(1d20+7)[*9*] to hit
(4d6+5)[*21*] damage

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate curses in Celestial, which isn't easy, it is mostly saying nice things backwards.

She bends time to try again to clobber the unholy man, and taps into her focus to bend space as well!  She blurs, then is suddenly frozen as reality shudders.

*Spoiler:  attacks*
Show


(1d20+13)[*32*] to hit
(4d6+5)[*22*] damage 

(1d20+8)[*10*] to hit
(4d6+5)[*20*] damage

----------


## JbeJ275

Oracle approached the base of the tower, looking not only at the windows or any landings, but also checking for a chimney. A chimney column could provide a weakness in the wall itself, allowing a possible entrance through an unguarded vector.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Knowledge: Architecture and Engineering

(1d20+12)[*13*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Holding a viper tongue in one hand and a piece of honeycomb in the other, Lord Tetch chanted again. He was clearly utilizing arcane spellcasting, but his chants sounded like pure nonsense, rather than the more rhythmic, stomach churning cant of the arcane tongue.

*"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what isn't, wouldn't be!"*

The magic washed over the area where Nightwing and the five remaining thugs he was fighting were locked in combat. It seemed as though for a moment, Nightwing might resist the spell, but eventually all of them were caught up in it's effect. For a moment, they stopped fighting, and turned their gazes toward Tetch.

*"I've been considering words that start with the letter M. Moron. Mutiny. Murder. Mmm...malice. You poor blokes don't look well off; run out of the north drawing room, take the exit out the back, and scamper on out of here before one of you loses your head!"*

And with that simple suggestion, Nightwing and the thugs he was battling all turned and made to follow his instructions. They all seemed perfectly content to suddenly abandon the struggle. For a moment, Black Mask even looked on, seeming stunned and stupefied, as six of his heavily armed soldiers just began to walk away.

The gnome guards protecting Tetch weren't done with the fight, however. They lobbed a volley of sharp arrows from their strange, hissing steam bows, sending one round cracking into a pillar in a shower of flint and blasted masonry. Another shot passed straight through the target's leg, another similarly through his arm, and a third ripping a hole in the thug's side. She dropped her heavy crossbow and began to back up and away from the fight, panicked, and bleeding everywhere.

Black Mask turned his malevolent gaze towards Lord Tetch.

*"You're gonna pay for that, Gnome. I can't wait to see what happens when we peel back your false face."*

*"My response to you is both profound, and meaningful."* Tetch jibed back. *"Get your hair cut!"*

Black Mask roared with anger, seeming for  moment dead set on rushing the Tetch entourage and attempting to cut through them. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Falcone, who'd positioned himself over by the high table, after whispering into an amulet he'd worn.

*"And where do you think you're going?"* he hissed. Falcone only smiled. *"No where, pal. I'm right where I want to be, I think."*

His eyes darting back and forth under his black skull visage, Black Mask seemed to decide on a course of action. He placed a gauntleted hand over his face, still gripping the sword he was carrying, and touched his fingers to the face of his helm. When he pulled them away he flung them outward in a hacking motion, and the front part of the helmet tore free, the grinning skull face flying across the room, leaving Black Mask's strangely handsome, psychotic face visible underneath.

The mask struck one of the gnome soldiers with the steam bows, and the poor bastard cried out in agony as a nauseating wave of negative energy washed over him, withering him from inside his suit and leaving a horrific stench in it's wake. The gnome collapsed into a heap on the floor, and the front of Black Mask's helm flew back to him, re-settling over his face and fusing once again with the skull helmet. 

*"Sionis!?"* Falcone spat, having recognized the face under the mask. *"What the Hells are you doing? I thought your whole family was dead!"*

*"Oh, my family is very much dead."* Black Mask replied as he stomped towards Tetch's remaining bodyguards, moving with deliberate menace.

*"I peeled off their masks and left the truth of them for the whole city to see. Then my brothers in arms helped me set the manor on fire to ensure the message was recieved. Soon, the False Face Society will run this city, and every last noble's fraudulent fugging faces will be stripped away. Starting with Lord Tetch here."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn.



*Spoiler: Tetch Hall, Roofs*
Show

Happily, Oracle's luck finally broke. Even in a builidng as zany and nonsensical as this, certain architectural features were still necessary. Including the chimney she was seeking. She found it just on the far side of the tower.

----------


## MrAbdiel

_He's insane._

This thought, occurring in a running side commentary within Damien's brain, could have referred to many people in the room.  Specifically though, it referred to the masked (briefly unmasked) killing machine.

_He has gone insane, and dragged into his madness the kind of monstrous, obedient chimps that unhinged cruelty attracts.  And now, he's clashing with another madman; one clearly more mad, but less cruel.  We need to get our allies and leave._

With his arm cocked back, he waits for Kate to surge through and engage one of the goons holding Spoiler or Robyn hostage - but when that doesn't manifest, he needs only look over his shoulder to see how dire the situation is becoming there.  Kate is waylaid duelling with the minions in the way to the main hall - and behind her, a seething _tide_ of Sionis's capering minions were swelling and billowing forth.  Kate was slippery - but the margins of their escape, let alone victory, were growing thin... and Nightwing's departure from the active combat, clearly compelled by Tetch's trickery, made the situation worse.  There was no time for coordination.  There may be seconds until Sionis killed Tetch; or Tetch seized control of Sionis's mind; or Falcone did whatever it was he was planning to do which was inoculating him to fear of death in the moment.

The child-shadow flattens himself against the wall, briefly re-enters the visible spectrum in full view of the hall, and then vanishes again with another snap of smoke powder.  He steps up behind the nearest False Face minion, whips the Birdarang and another shuriken with typical deadly precision... and hopes it's enough.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Getting dicey.  Here's the play:

Swift Action: Become Invisible again.  3/7 Ki Remaining!
Free Action: 5ft Step diagonally adjacent to southmost goon in the main hall.
Full Action: Full Attack.  First attack at the goon grappling Spoiler.  If that goon drops (either because of damage or failing its Con save), the next attack will go into the goon grappling Robyn.  Otherwise, the second attack will follow on the first target, hoping to free Spoiler to free her companion (perhaps with an action she might have readied, if she's clever).

He's making these ranged attacks from adjacency to an enemy, but being invisible, the enemy doesn't threaten him.  But if that enemy tries to move at some point, it'll certainly entitle him to an Attack of Opportunity - one that I'll roll pre-emptively, so you won't have to check in for it, Molan.

ATTACK 1: Birdarang at Goon Grappling Spoiler.  Range is good.  Strictly according to the rules, I can't see a penalty for attacking characters in a grapple with a ranged attack - since they don't threaten any squares, they are not considered 'in melee'.  But that sounds dumb, so I'm going to go ahead and apply the normal -4 penalty to ranged attacks into melee.  God have mercy on us.  All attacks against flat footed AC.  +2 For being invisible.

(1d20+15)[*16*].  On hit, (1d2+2)[*3*] + (5d6)[*14*].  DC 13 Con save or be rendered unconscious from poison.  Birdarang will return at the beginning of Damien's next turn.

ATTACK 2:

(1d20+8)[*19*].  On hit, (1d2)[*1*] + (5d6)[*13*].  No poison; normal-ass shuriken.

*Spoiler: In the case of an Attack of Opportunity*
Show

Melee with the lil' stabber.  (1d20+18)[*29*]; on hit, (1d4-1)[*0*] (min 1) plus (6d6)[*26*] sudden strike.  No poison.

----------


## JbeJ275

Carefully and quietly, Barbara went to remove a single brick from the back of the tower behind the chimney shute with her thieves tools. Once the mortar had been carved out and the brick carefully set aside she lifted her familiar up once more, carefully looked in this entrance to watch for any further warding or traps here, then let Juluis crawl through the small gap and began a benign transposition to take her safely inside.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Damien resisted the urge to grind his teeth as the "Birdarang" swung past his target. He was aiming for a weak spot in the thug's heavy black armor, but the weapon *clanged* off of the plate metal instead. He'd gotten sloppy -- or jumpy. His heart beating rapidly in his chest as the situation deteriorated all around him. He hurled a shuriken into the man's side, even harder, and this one stuck. The man cried out with angry surprise, and in so doing, moved his knife away from Stephanie's neck. 

That was all she needed. Stephanie seized the opportunity, ramming her elbow into the man's chin, knocking him backwards and allowing her to separate. The man tried to maneuver away from her, but in so doing, exposed his flank to Damien, who lashed out with his blade, this time finally cutting deep, and probably destroying a kidney. The man grasped at his wounds, stumbling away, confused and bewildered. Newly freed, Stephanie removed a sai from the folds of her dress with one hand, and a hand-crossbow with the other. 

*"Let her go, big guy."* she said, glowering at the man holding Robyn hostage. The man pressed the knife harder to Robyn, however.

*"Drop your weapons, or she's done!"* he swore.

In the foyer, Kate's victim was beaten, but he took too long to drop, and she was very rapidly surrounded. She sput around, brandishing her poleaxe, as the False Face thugs poured in. She dueled the heavily armed and armored men as they came on, and magical weapons clashed against her psionic one, producing gouts of sparks and flashes of bright fury. Most of the attacks that passed her guard failed to find her thanks to her _concealing amorpha._ Others that got through simply brushed off of her plate mail. But she was ensconced in an overwhelming flurry of flying steel, and she couldn't block it all. A greatsword cut into her on one side, and a greataxe cut open part of her breastplate from the other. Despite herself, she cried out in pain, and her semi-demonic blood spilt onto the ground, mixing in with the pools that were already there.

There were now four of Black Mask's minions still active in the great ballroom. A fifth was still trapped under Tetch's arcane madness enchantment, and six more were running away, either via compulsory magic or in the case of Damien's latest victim, panicked from his own wounds. But the tide of murderous soldiers rushing in from the foyer spelled doom for everyone not named "Sionis", if and when they managed to overwhelm the last motes of resistance in front of them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Kate's turn. Good news for her is, she knocked away *quite* a bit of damage in the first volley of attacks due to her defenses. That's the end of the good news. She's in base to base with 7 opponents and they have another 30 buddies pressing in behind them. She took 37 damage -- one hit from a great axe, one confirmed crit from a greatsword. I've already reduced the HP on Kate's token in roll20.

Stephanie is free, Robyn is not, but you just need to get the knife off of her neck and she can probably maneuver. Inside the ballroom, there aren't many False Face thugs left, but you do have Black Mask trolling around and he's big mad and big scary.

The good news is, Falcone's clearly got something brewing, and he and Tetch are both very much preoccupied with fighting Black Mask. It's worth mentioning that no one in the ballroom has actually _seen_ Kate or Damien just yet, and no one other than the False Face Society has any reason to think of you as hostile or enemies...at least for now. You could probably avoid combat with any of those characters if you need to even up the odds.



*Spoiler: Tetch Hall, the Enchanter's Tower*
Show

Oracle made it inside the tower, and as she ascended she began to find that the interior of the keep was much less well warded than the exterior. She'd initially missed the traps warding the great hall, but otherwise the going was fairly easy, and she made it up to the lab at the top of the tower with little incident.

When she got up there, she found what looked more or less like a respectable arcane laboratory, albeit one that was owned by a lunatic. Mad scribbles and drawings covered parchments that wallpapered the interior of the lab, and dancing lights filled with faerie fire and bubbling, sometimes glowing potions lit the place in a mad hue. There was a desk inside, covered in scrolls that were mostly half-done spell scrivenings and letters written in sing-songy verse. Most of Lord Tetch's secrets were up here, if she could at least divine some way to discern them. 

As she stepped into the center of the room, she felt a pair of eyes on her. She turned, and saw the cat from earlier perched in the lab's windowsill, staring back at her.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Knowledge: Arcana, Search, Spot, and Profession: Alchemy might all yeild information here. Feel free to take any investigative actions you like. Are you scanning for specific magic auras?

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Tetch cast another spell, and this time, finally -- or at least for a moment -- Black Mask's rampage was stopped. The magic washed over Black Mask, and he was temporarily frozen in space, as if he'd deliberately paused and was posing for a painting.

*"Ooooh, hoo hoo! That's a little better!"* Tetch chortled. *"Maybe now that you've calmed down, we can fit you with a new hat! Mmmm...it's a shame though, your head is so large."*

Regardless of whatever Tetch was prattling on about, the white clad woman next to him tugged on his sleeve.

*"Perhaps now's not the time for hatting, sire."* she said, gesturing towards the flood of False Face thugs filling the hall.

*"Now's no time at all!"* he cackled. *"But I suppose we are already very, very late."* 

Tetch began to fiddle with something on his belt, and his two soldiers marched out past the frozen Black Mask, clomping in their steam-powered suits of armor. The one with the saw-toothed sword and mechanical shield braced himself in place, while the next one pulled back his steam bow and let loose. The arrow went *thwump!* through the False Face sergeant who'd run from Kate and Damien in the foyer, and for a moment he looked down at the hole in his chestplate, confused, before crashing to his knees and crunching onto the floor, a pool of blood expanding around him. The thug holding Robyn panicked, and as his knife slipped from her neck she jammed her elbow into his neck, causing him to stumble backwards. She rolled forward along the ground to get some space from him, and after a moment's consideration, the thug began to run for an exit.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Back over his shoulder, Kane fought for her life as a sea of black-faced killers surrounded her.  He could swear he saw a fan of her dark blood streak into the air, and he wracked his brain for something he could do to assist her.  Spoiler and Robyn, thankfully, were now assisting themselves; and perhaps one of them had something to assist the beleagured Kane.  As for Damien, he was not a great defender, or a spellmeister.  Unlike his father, he wasn't even a knight.  He was a _weapon_, and the best offering he could provide to defend his ally from the swarm of thugs was to strike hard and brutally at their master.  And Lord Tetch, with his apparent paralyzing magics, had made that suddenly more possible than ever.

"Your False _Farce_ Society is over before it begins, Sionis!"

He snapped into being to snatching the returning Birdarang from the air in his off hand; but this time, he did not disappear.  Now, he was in full view of Tetch, and Sionis, and Falcone... and the  warriors in the hallway who had half a mind to keep an eye on threats to their paralyzed Lord.  The black clad figure - who might be mistaken for _gnomish_ given his stature - sets off, skids on his knees between Spoiler's legs midstride and bounces back to his feet beyond her, then launches into a soaring, murderous leap attempting to plunge his matte-black blade between Sionis's shoulderblades!

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Become Visible.  No going invisible again right now; staying on 3/7 Ki.  Damien is hoping his pronouncement, and brazen attack on Black Mask in full view, will cause the soldiers in the hallway to panic and devote much of their effort to rushing to his defence, instead of striking en masse at Kate.

Charge 60ft (thx potion of Longstrider) to the (apparently paralyzed?) Black Mask, and attack!

Modifiers: +16 Attack.  +2 Charge.  -5 Expertise to bump up Damien's AC with expertise.  Attacking his presumably paralyzed AC!

(1d20+13)[*31*] to hit.  If it hits, (1d4-2)[*0*] (Min 1); plus (6d6)[*22*] Sudden Strike damage.  Damien's AC, after gaining 5 from Expertise and losing 2 from Charging this turn, is *26* for this turn.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara tuts at the evidence of poor organisation, the Tetch Lord's reputation for madess had shown itself to be well earned at every step of the process here today but there was perhaps no greater validation than this. Ducking around the floating motes of light and staying clear of the slowly swelling vapours Barbara clasps her hands together and waves them in a flourish. After a moment information began entering her mind without her having to stop or there being ay sign whatsoever fo the room being disturbed. 

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Search: 31
Knowledge Arcana: (1d20+15)[*33*]
Spot: (1d20+9)[*15*]
Craft (Alchemy): (1d20+10)[*13*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Oracle spent time searching through the lab. She detected more than a few interesting contents therein. Tetch had a full alchemist's kit running, and Oracle found several vials of poison, a container of _sovereign glue,_ and six different unidentified elixirs, and another eight unidentified potions. There was parchment and material to make at least six spell scrolls for free. A magical candle emitting a strong conjuration aura burned on the desk; Oracle could tell it was radiating a specific effect, and suspected it was a _candle of invocation._

Several hats hung on hooks all around the lab desk, upon inspecting each one she determined they were all _hats of disguise._ But more interesting than anything else were some of the letters on the desk. Here, a letter from the Cobblepotts, chiding the Tetch's about some slight or another. Lord Tetch had scribbled on this one; apparently he hadn't taken the chastisement very seriously.

Another letter responding from House Nigma -- this one was more interesting. From context clues, Barbara gathered the letter was a reply to one Tetch had already sent. Nigma acknowledged that someone named "Nightwing" was a persistent menace, even after the Dark Knight had stopped showing up on Gotham's nighttime streets. He then complained -- rather brazenly -- about Oracle's party's own rescue of Verena from South Channel Island.

*"The monster is still here, but the knights are multiplying. This is a problem with only one permanent solution. Riddle me this: 'I think with two minds, but speak with one voice. I'll judge your poor fate, but the coin makes my choice. I stand in one spot, but my soul's in two places; I am but one man, yet I wear two mean faces.' Who am I?

-- E. Nigma"*

But that wasn't all. Another letter on the desk was an invitation to a party by House Elliott to a party at Hill Hall. The date was for...today. Well that just fugging figured. 

Finally, there was one other note. It was from an unknown sender, but it seemed to imply that an operation had gone according to plan. 

*"One of these bloody gangs of thieves and rogues know where the Dents are hiding, and before long, our agents will suss them out. And if Dent doesn't have it, he'll know where it is. Why else would he have gone after the book?

Don't worry about the Clown. He's a distraction. Before long, the James' loyalists will start looking for greener pastures, and we'll be ascendant. If you see Falcone...try to get him or one of his crewmates isolated. Those gangsters have what we want, I'm sure of it.

-- Z"*

Oracle pondered the letter for a bit, trying to comprehend what it meant, before she noticed something. She crouched down, looking under the table, and underneath it found an elegant brass chest. It was carved -- no, _forged_ -- with runes of enchantment; Oracle dared not read them, she had a suspicion doing so would likely trigger the trap guarding the chest. But a powerful unidentified magical aura radiated from within it.

She heard something else, and looked up for a moment. The cat had moved -- silently, once again -- and was now sitting on top of the desk, watching what she was doing with apparent interest. When she looked up at it, it stared right back at her.

She could _swear_ it was smiling.


*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Damien sprang across the hall and planted a sharp angle straight into Black Mask's back. The move didn't go unnoticed. The thugs from the foyer rushed forward, and a handful of them were more or less pushed _onto_ Kate, pressing so close that neither her nor their weapons were much use. The rest of the soldiers surged around the heap, pressing forward into the Ballroom.

Lord Tetch clearly noticed things swinging the other way, and decided it was time to wrap up his part in the party. Nodding to the white-clad woman, he drew a deck of cards from his coat and threw one down. It was a King of Spades -- and several tendrils of smoke rose from the ground where it fell, coalescing into a trio of armed human clerics; one cleric of Heironeous, one of Kord, and one of Pelor. With that, the White Woman cast her own spell, and white colored halos surrounded Tetch, the woman and each of his surviving steam guards abruptly disappeared.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

I went a smidge out of order, but it's fine. It's Kate's turn. Each of you make a Will Save, and Kate needs to make four grapple checks. (Success will allow you to deal some damage to your opponents). You can make these grapple checks independent of any other actions you're taking this round.

----------


## Feathersnow

And, without moving through the intervening distance, Kate is suddenly ten feet in front of Black Mask, flanking with the Scion of House Wayne!

She does a flurry of poleaxe blows! 

*Spoiler:  attacks*
Show


(1d20+15)[*23*] to hit, counting flanking 

(4d6+5)[*21*] damage

(1d20+10)[*13*] to hit, counting flanking 

(4d6+5)[*14*] damage

----------


## JbeJ275

Well, it seemed Tetch wasnt anywhere in this damn place. Still, shed learned a lot here. Eager to find out a final few of its mysteries she turned towards the cat and spoke.

So whats your deal exactly? Because if youre a normal cat J should probably get you out of here but then Oh god this place has made me crazy too Im talking to a cat now.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

It seemed as if, suddenly, Oracle had triggered something, and for the first time, the too-intelligent cat seemed to answer her.

*<<Never let anyone drive you crazy; it is nearby anyway, and the walk is good for you.>>*

Oracle very nearly yelped and jumped backwards. The cat continued to stare.


*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Kate swung hard at the brutish Black Mask, but he was good -- a bit too good. He sidestepped one swing, partially parrying it with his left sword, then caught the next swing with both blades, crossing them over one another in an X shape. He shoved back against Kate, causing her to stumble for a moment, then retreated from his position, leaving Kate and Damien with the Clerics. 

*"Get in here, you louts! Finish them off! We've got to go!"* he bellowed.

There was a loud crash, and behind the great table, the rose window caved forward in a shower of gas, and three hooded figures rolled onto the floor and the table from outside. Each one of them sprang up, deft like acrobats, and quickly drew wicked looking short swords from their belts with one hand while dropping strange vials onto the ground with the other. They smashed the files and plums of obscuring mist burst outward, covering the rogues and Falcone alike.

Two of the Clerics moved towards Kate, preparing to attack, but each first began chanting, casting powerful divine blessings on their weapons.
*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Damien's turn.



*Spoiler: OOC (All)*
Show

Damnit! I gotta stop mixing up these tags lol. Damien's up.

----------


## JbeJ275

After a second to dissolve her panic Barbaras mind reformed. Riddling duels were something wizards were always meant to be good at according to some of the books most discussed among the academy, thus she launched into a retort and the next line of questions.

Good for you I think, not so good for me. Who are you anyway and what do you have to do with Tetch?

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show



Detect thoughts should still be up, is it picking anything up off the cat?

----------


## MrAbdiel

The madness of the scene developed; and as Damien drew back his blade for a killing blow, Sionis found animation in his limbs and wheeled away leaving the weapon sparking off his armor.  But Falcone's extraction crew were here - good, since they were in no position to arrest him.  With Falcone and his thieves retreating, all they needed to worry about for the moment was Black mask.. and his army.

"Ladies!" He shouted down the room to Spoiler and Robyn, presently ahead of the boiling tide of cretins.  "We're leaving!"  He thumbed towards the now smashed window, partially obscured by smoke.  With any luck, Falcone and his men would have already passed through and scampered by the time Damien's allies got there - but it was the right direction to move, to get away from the coming killers.  "You three - cover us!"

The _three_ in this pronouncement were the trio of clerics; and with the birdarang in his hand, Damien made an upright, circular gesture as part of the combat sign dialect the Dark Knight's entourage had been using for some time...

*Spoiler: Bluff to conceal a message from the enemy!*
Show

DC is 15 to successfully conceal a message.  Depending on the outcome of the roll, I'll edit this spoiler to contain what Damien conveys.

(1d20+12)[*32*] vs DC 15.

Edit:  Nice!  So Spoiler, Robyn and Batwoman would know the hand gesture is not 'cover us' or 'get out' but _'deception is a weapon'_.  In context with the way he just turned his back on clerics that were summoned and moved on, they will understand he is saying both *these clerics are illusions being used against us* and *let us use this illusion as a weapon.*  Given that none of the Dark Knight crew attacked any of the Tetch-Crew, the Theives and False Facers might conclude they were working for the hatter.  Hopefully, that will mean Black Mask will feel a little more immediately outnumbered and keep retreating.  Enemies - particularly those close enough by to pay attention to the exchange, are entitled to a *Sense Motive Check* to intercept and intuit the message, with a DC equal to my awesome bluff roll I just made.


With that, he surged on to pursue the black-masked monster; passing through a thin veil of smoke and vanishing as he goes...

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show

Attack of Opportunity!

(1d20+16)[*27*]. On hit, (1d4-1)[*0*], min 1.

Free action: Attempt to convey secret message to allies (in spoiler above!)

Swift action: Turn invisible! (2/7 Ki remaining).

Move action: Hustle around Black mask to diagonally opposite Kate, so she can 5ft step in her turn to be flanking and full attack, if she wants.

Action: Attack!  Invisible for +2; Attacking Flatfoot.  (1d20+18)[*28*]; for (1d4-1)[*0*] min 1, and (6d6)[*25*] sudden strike!

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Oracle's magical probes failed to provide any useful information, but it was sentient -- almost intelligent, even, which was interesting. Still, she struggled to find any other useful information. 

*<<I'm a stranger, you're a stranger. Together we are...strangers.>>* The cat said, more or less, in her head.

*"That doesn't answer my question. What are you to Lord Tetch."*

*<<To the Hatter? I'm not sure. His companion, I think. You may have noticed, I'm not all there myself.">>*

*"Your his companion? Like his familiar? Tell me what's in that box. Where is...The Hatter...now?"*

Oracle could _swear,_ the cat seemed to smile.

*<<Familiar...yes, I suppose. More familiar than most. Ah, but the Hatter. Where is he? I suppose that's a matter of time. A few minutes ago, he was somewhere else...a few minutes from now...>>*

Oracle's eyes widened, and it became clear to her the cat was trying to warn of her something. *"Where is Lord Tetch?"* she demanded.

*<<"Do you think he'll make a victim of you? We are all victims...in waiting.>>*


*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Damien's blade slammed into Black Mask's back, and he turned back and glared at the almost completely invisible motion of bending light that represented where Damien was located. Meanwhile, his thugs poured out of the foyer and started filling up the ballroom.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's turn.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate continues to attempt to take down the leader of the attackers!  Ha!  We don't need Lord Tetch to deal with you!  You best escape before he is in position!

*Spoiler:  rolls*
Show



(1d20+3)[*15*] bluff

(1d20+15)[*25*] attack 1
(4d6+5)[*20*]

(1d20+10)[*12*] attack 2
(4d6+5)[*20*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Black Mask cried out in anger and pain, turning and swiping violently at the spot where Damien stood; he couldn't actually see him, but he could almost make out the imperceptible bending of light in the spot where Damien's strike had come from. For a moment, he had him dead to rights. Still, most of his flurrying blades missed, rewarding Damien for his shadow ki powers. Unfortunately, one strike found his arm, and another traced a long cut across his unarmored chest, and though Damien was still invisible, the blood that splattered from his wounds onto the ground wasn't.

*"Let's see that face of yours..."* he hissed in triumph.

Stephanie and Robyn continued to backpedal away from the advancing False Face thugs, their ghoulish helms now looking like a sea of leering demons as they poured into the hall. The two women fired off pot shots from their hand crossbows as they backpedaled, reloading on the move. They were fleabites against the horde, however. As they retreated, Robyn began quietly singing, and her fey song was accompanied by the familiar, invisible warble of arcane magic eminating from where she should. The song surrounded and embraced herself, Stephanie, Kate and Damien, bolstering their bodies and spirits.

Still though, the horde came on.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's Damien's turn. "???" Is going to delay action again. Robyn has deployed _Inspire Courage +1_, just to give everyone a little bit of a boost.

----------


## Feathersnow

Oa Gish'ali! shouts Kate as she bends time to hit just that little bit faster!  She continues to try to hit the surprising agile lord!

*Spoiler:  attacks*
Show


(1d20+16)[*24*]
(4d6+5)[*23*]

(1d20+11)[*17*]
(4d6+5)[*20*]

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara held her nerve as best as she was able,  trying to guide this cat through riddles to an answer.

"I prefer to do my weighting against being a victim, I can put my hand to those scales for you as well if you'd tell me where he is. Or I could take you with me as I go. But I'm not going to leave you here whith Tetch to tell him I've been here."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Kate swung her weapon hard, and Black Mask caught the first attack in his crossed swords. For a moment, the two of them stood there, grimacing towards each other from behind the visors of their dark helms; his a grinning skull hiding a rictus of madness, hers a gloomy, growling closed visor, framed by the ears of a direbat. The two exploded into a flurry of motion, Kate moving and striking with hard military precision and clarity of motion. There was no unnecessary flourish with her strikes, each one was hard, fast, well placed, and potentially life-ending. But Black Mask, if he hadn't already, seemed to take the opportunity to show how dangerous he truly was. Using his own footwork and the advantage of having two lighter weapons to her one heavy one, he deftly blocked, parried and deflected each incoming hit, until the last one swung at him from Kate's right, horizontally. The pole axe clanged into the side of his enchanted armor, holding in place for a moment before she could wrench it free, and he held it against him for a moment with one arm while bringing his blade down on the weapon haft with the other. Magical sword struck psionic heavy pole axe, and a blast of angry, shrieking sparks blasted the two weapons apart, leaving both intact, for now.

*"You're not half bad,"* he said. *"Who are you? Some wannabe Dark Knight replacement?"*


*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

*<<How fine you look when dressed in rage. Your enemies are fortunate your condition is not permanent. Youre lucky, too. Red eyes suit so few.>>* the cat said, still being cryptic. *<<And yet, I suppose I should answer you. I can hardly afford to lose my head...you may have noticed...I'm not all there myself.">>*

As the cat's "voice" purred in her head, Oracle realized it was beginning to -- quite rapidly -- disappear. But it left her with one last whisper before vanishing completely.

*<<Somehow you strayed and lost your way, and now therell be no time to play, no time for joy, no time for friends  not even time to make amends...he is here. The Hatter has returned. He is coming...and he's right on time.>>*

Oracle could tell, by experience, the strange _snap-pop_ sensation that accompanied a successful teleportation. She turned around, half expecting Lord Tetch to be standing right behind her, but she was still technically alone. She peered down the door from the lab into the tower, and after a moment, she could hear what sounded like laughter, and the hiss of something. Was that steam?

*"What's that catty? Someone's visiting the laboratory? What splendatious news! Let's go up and invite her for tea."*

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate growls as time is distorted around her! 
*Spoiler*
Show


"WHAT IF I AM!?" seemed a lame retort, but I couldn't think of anything better

----------


## JbeJ275

With a flourish Barbara vanished with a shimmering cloak of _Greater Invisibility_, she surged to the side of the chimney and went silent then as she waited for Tetch to enter, looking at him through arcane sight as he approached to check for any spells on the figure.

----------


## MrAbdiel

_Damnit._

Damien hated getting hit.  Not the pain, exactly; just the indecent, injurious exposure of his limitations as a weapon.  As his tricks wore off, he briefly presented again in the visible spectrum; eyes hard, body bleeding, posture a little hunkered forward with feralizing loathing.  He shot a communicative glance to Kane over Black Mask's shoulder, but decided not to continue with his end of the banter.  This was the telling point; if they didn't make a break through in the next few seconds, he would kill one or all of them.

Vanishing, striking, and shifting, Damien puts all his wrath into forcing that urgency into the terrorizor before him.

*Spoiler: Actions!*
Show


Becomes Visible!

Free Action: Bluff to communicate to Kate that he's intending to shift after going invisible, so she'll have to shift to retain her flanking bonus.  (1d20+12)[*21*].  DC is 15.  If I fail, or if Black Mask can hit that roll with an insight check, he'll know Damien's invisible position, and won't need to 'pinpoint' him to attack him.
Swift Action: Turn invisible (1/7 Ki Remaining!)
Full Attack!  Flanking for +2, Invisible for +2, attacking Flatfoot!  Aaaaand....  Hrm.  No, we gotta do the damage now. Gotta trust that miss chance.  No Expertise; all butt-kicking.
*1st Blow* - (1d20+20)[*24*], for (1d4-2)[*0*] Min 1, and (6d6)[*27*] Sudden Strike.
*2nd Blow* - (1d20+15)[*24*], for (1d4-2)[*0*] Min 1, and (6d6)[*24*] Sudden Strike.
Free Action: 5ft step.  To successfully locate my square, Black Mask will either have to beat that insight check, or guess, or try to pinpoint.  Pinpointing is a 0 damage touch attack with the normal 50% miss chance - but he's able to 'pinpoint' in two squares per attack, and if he 'hits' then he knows where I am for the follow up.  Re: https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/SRD:Invisibility

Nice.  If 24 hits his touch AC, that's 53 Damage!

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Damien's strikes landed true; Black Mask cried out in pain as the little ninja scored yet another pair of hits in the weak spots on the villain's armor. The dance wouldn't last forever -- Damien's shadow powers were wearing thin -- but he'd done serious damage to an otherwise superior opponent, and it was starting to show. A stream of blood poured out between the armor gaps over the already-stained white armor, and Black Mask seemed to grunt with visible pain.

But the hammer had finally fallen. The False Face regiment poured into the hall, beginning to surround and engulf the party. Several of the armored thugs fired their enchanted crossbows; all but one of them found their targets. Stephanie took a bolt to the arm; it exploded in a splash of acid, and she screamed in pain, clutching at the wound. Robyn faired worse; the bolt struck her dead center in her torso, and it burst into flames as it did so, lighting her gown on fire for the briefest of moments. She fell to one knee, almost mortally wounded. A third bolt bypassed Kate's Amorpha, striking her torso as well and exploding in a shower of electrical sparks. All three women were badly wounded and close to being felled for good.

The clerics Tetch had summoned were all pounced on as well, and they began to duel with the False Face thugs, but each of them took wounds in the process. Other than Lord Dent's gang, and perhaps the Cobblepott forces, these were easily some of the most well armed and armored enemies the party had had the misfortune of facing. Black Mask's crew, whatever his agenda, was seriously lethal. 

Just as all hope seemed loss, a shadow passed over the moon, and for the briefest of moments caused the light inside the ballroom to flicker somewhat. A moment later, the skylight crashed in, showering Damien and Black Mask in a rain of glass shards. Looking up, Kate could see what looked like bat wings, and for a moment it seemed -- as if things could have gotten any worse -- that they were well and truly doomed. The beast, it seemed, had returned to finish them off.

But when the black figure crashed hard into the floor, scattering shards of marble flooring as it came, it suddenly became apparent that this was _not_ in fact the monster they'd faced with Dent's gang in the Vaults. The figure slowly rose, and a full picture of him came into view -- a fully enclosed armet helm, with a pair of masterfuly sculped bat ears reaching up from it like a pair of knives. Black, master crafted mythril full plate; a cloak that looked like the wings of a bat. And finally, as if there was any doubt, the Dark Knight drew his sword. It's blade was long and silver, and etchings of fateful oaths were scrawled down the first half of it's center. It gleamed in the moonlight; it's black handguard shaped like a direbat, it's long handle wrapped in obsidian.

The Dark Knight had returned to Gotham, once again.

*"NO!!!"* Sionis screamed in Rage. *"You're supposed to be fugging dead!"*

_"Sorry to disappoint you."_ a growling, metallic voice echoed back. Black Mask Lashed out, striking once, then twice with each of his own black blades. The Dark Knight parried each strike almost effortlessly, then returning a riposte to crackle across Sionis' breastplate, drawing yet more blood. All Black Mask could do was yell in protest.

The Dark Knight turned to just barely regard Kate as he fought. _"Get yourself and the others out of here, now. I'll cover you."_

Kate raised her voice to protest. *"We can help you beat them off!"*

Sionis swung at the Dark Knight's head, but he continued to parry and block his strikes, using expert footwork and positioning to protect himself while he held the enemy at bay. _"No. It's too dangerous; you're all badly wounded. The Justicars will be here in force within the next ten minutes. We don't need to beat them outright, we just need the time."_

Unlike Kate and Damien's expert combat hand signaling, Lord Wayne was making his proclamations in the open; and he clearly was having an intended effect. All of the False Face soldiers, even Sionis, seemed to hesitate for just a moment as if intimidated. Bruce was right -- now that he was here, they had a MUCH more deadly enemy on their hands. Sionis himself was badly injured, and the Justicars would be mustering an army to end this battle. As suddenly as Bruce had crashed through the skylight, time was running out for the False Face Society.

Black Mask defended himself from another counter attack from Bruce as he backed away towards his advancing troops, covering himself and playing defense. The soldiers supporting him looked unhappy, but hadn't broken -- they were either loyal or afraid enough of Sionis to stick around with him for a little longer, and they had the numbers. Badly injured, Stephanie and Robyn each hit the floor, rolling and tumbling away from their nearest attackers to disengage, and made a break for the broken rose window behind the great table. 

_"Go!! Now!"_ Bruce insisted.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, here's the deets. Sionis is not down yet, though you've hacked off a ton of health (Great job!). The problem is, you could try and beat the BBEG in this fight, but if you don't scurry and let Bruce draw aggro, you're probably looking at dropping below 0 HP. Damien has 11 HP left and is almost out of Ki. Kate is now down to 6(!) HP. Spoiler has 9 HP left, and Robyn is down to 6. So the adds can overwhelm you if you allow them to. The good news is, Robyn and Spoiler both tumble away fairly easily, so you all ought to be positioned for a clean disengage. However if you are feeling particularly lucky, obviously you can stick around to try to test your luck. Speaking of which...good luck!

----------


## Feathersnow

To me and away!

Kate, having over half her power reservoir untapped, can easily move her allies through space to safety, should they huddle up first!

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien manages to avoid any incidental bolts coming his way; but the weight of the situation has shifted several times already so as not to offer profitable risk.  Besides, he had given his word to obey; and now, a command to withdraw.   Fading back into visibility with a whisper of smoke, he backs toward Batwoman, weapons still up defensively.

Nightwings still out there.

This, he offers to the Dark Knight as the retreat begins.  It would do no good to leave Sir Richard out there, in isolation; but the Knight was capable of rescuing him, for sure.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

Black Mask, having been badly gouged, quickly ducked behind his throng of soldiers as they entered, sheathing a sword as he went and wrenching a magical looking vial from his belt, 
 though for a moment he was challenged to drink it with his skull visor down. The Dark Knight was a beautiful sweep of deadly motion. The False Face thugs crowded in, firing their magical crossbow and swinging away, but he danced, juked, feinted and parried like he was putting on a performance. Here, a riposte opened a man's arm; there, a well placed strike nearly took off another's leg. The first six (six!) thugs that dared meet him in melee combat found themselves suffering debilitating (though, not fatal) wounds, while he seemed to absorb the hits that did break his defenses and strike him with as much grace as could be expected. His sword flashed with holy power as he swung it, seeming to make a similar judgement of it's own.

Damien, Stephanie, and Robyn had finally reached Kate, earning a moment respite as the Dark Knight took over the scene. Already, False Facers were beginning to look like their nerve was shaking.

_"Go ahead. I'll find Nightwing."_ he assured them.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Now's your chance! With the False Facer's distracted you guys can make good your escape if you so choose.



*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Finally, after waiting all night, the door to the lab creaked open, and a figure that could only have been Lord Tetch -- he matched his portrait in the halls below, well enough -- stalked into the room. He carried a wand in one hand, and she could see his eyes glowing an unmistakable color. He was searching.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Knowledge Arcana or Spellcraft to identify the spell he's using, same options to identify the school for the wand he's carrying. If he uses a divination that pierces your invisibility (glowing eyes kind of a tell that it's divination, but you don't know what spell it actually is), you can make a Hide check to remain out of sight.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

From Oracle's perspective, there seemed to be bad, and good news. On the bad front, Tetch seemed to know she was there, or that someone had been. She still wasn't sure if the Cat was his familiar or what, but it'd clearly ratted her out. Ironic really.

The second piece of bad news was that he was packing a powerful looking wand that radiated Enchantment magic; a deadly tool, one she had no intention of facing. Worse, he was clearly channeling _true seeing_. Fairly competent move, such as it was.

The good news, on the other hand, is that besides being invisible, she was also, quite simply, hiding. And that, it seemed, was more than a match for the other wise competent-seeming gnome. The advantage was hers.
*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Checks are good! Your move now!

----------


## Feathersnow

Following orders is part of Kate's nature, as is admiration for Cousin Bruce and not dying.  She opens a portal and takes the four of them back to the Carriage

----------


## JbeJ275

Stepping out from behind the cover she was crouched behind Barbara was ready to start her attach, in her hand lay four darts in the rough shape of bats, their wing edges sharpened to a razor sheen, in front of her eyes glyphs and glowing guidelines danced, with a thought she sent Juluis back through the gap in the brickwork. They at least wouldn't be in danger from this.

There was no time to talk, only time to move, she ran past Tetch headed for the open door at a sprint as she ran, the icy darts left from her fingertips for the enchantment wizard, one after the other closing the ground with him. She knew had had no physical wards, so merely had to hope that this overwhelming attack would either bring him down or send him to flight before he could retaliate with his own mad magics.

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show


Swift Action: Cast Critical Strike
Action: Cast Ice Darts, all for attacks at Tetch
Move: Out the Door

Ice Dart 1. Attack: (1d20+10)[*21*] (VS Flat footed touch AC, Threatens a crit on a 19+) Damage: (2d4)[*4*]+(4d6)[*14*]
Ice Dart 2. Attack: (1d20+10)[*24*] (VS Flat footed touch AC, Threatens a crit on a 19+) Damage: (2d4)[*2*]+(4d6)[*9*]
Ice Dart 3. Attack: (1d20+10)[*12*] (VS Flat footed touch AC, Threatens a crit on a 19+) Damage: (2d4)[*4*]+(4d6)[*9*]
Ice Dart 4. Attack: (1d20+10)[*29*] (VS Flat footed touch AC, Threatens a crit on a 19+) Damage: (2d4)[*5*]+(4d6)[*14*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

The icy bat-shaped darts caught Lord Tetch completely by surprise, each burying themselves deep in his chest before he even had so much as time to yell out in shock or pain. He collapsed back onto the floor as Oracle made her way for the exit, though whether from the severity of the wounds or just sheet unbelievable shock, it was hard to say.


*Spoiler: Hill Hall*
Show

The Dark Knight's sword gleamed and flashed as he dueled and danced with the swarming thugs around him. In six swings he'd opened six men up; none of the wounds fatal, but all so devastating that they almost immediately attempted to disengage in fear. As Kate's power finally began to ensconce the party, they could see a hail of magical crossbow bolts flying towards him, but he didn't so much as flinch from fear, rather turning slightly away from them and holding his cloak up, as though a shield.

But with that, the strange psionic power that Kate wielded enveloped them, and with a *pop*, they were back at the Wayne Carriage outside. The scene there was a chaotic one. Some of the carriages had crashed when the attack began; their drivers or owners attempting to flee in panic. Many, many more had left the grounds. The False Face war wagons were still encircled at the grand entryway, though the men still manning them looked slightly less enthused than they'd been before -- the raid appeared to have been taking longer than expected. A few of the False Face enforcers were closer to the Wayne carriage; the way the bodies were laid out, they looked as though they'd been ransacking carriages when they'd found Alfred.

Or, more accurately, Sir Pennyworth had found them. He sat perched atop the Wayne carriage, his heavy, enchanted repeating crossbow in hand, quietly humming along with arcane might. Three charred bolts had been fired, one for each thug. He turned to address the party almost nonchalantly.

*"Ah, my lovely lord and ladies. Turned out to be quite the festive evening, wasn't it?"*

The party quickly boarded, and Alfred nodded to the coachman, who slapped the reigns of the horse team, leading them away from the chaos. In the distance, Damien could make out the telltale blue and red flashes from the Justicars' _lanterns of dancing lights_, signaling that somewhere, the cavalry was, belatedly, coming.

The Wayne carriage sped away into the night, running down the dark cobblestone streets of Uptown, careening through the gilded, dark wizard's towers and manors that filled South Point before spinning south again through the slums of Hell's Kitchen, before eventually finding true solitude and obscurity in Channel Park, making it's way ever further towards Midtown, and eventually one of the two bridges that would lead to Wayne Castle.

Once it was obvious the coast was clear, Alfred nimbly managed to cavort himself from the roof of the carriage, back into the interior through a hatch at the roof. He was spry, for a man of his age.*"Well, that ought do it for now,"* he said, sitting himself back down among the rest of the party. *"Might I ask you all, what in the hell happened back there? Who were those thugs? They had what looked like House Sionis sigils on the sides of their wagons."*

*"What happened back there, is I fugged up."* Spoiler sulked.

*"Begging pardon miss, but how's that now?"*

*"I had a lead about the issues with the Sionis' weeks ago. I didn't think they'd hit a gala that important. I should have known better."*

*"You're being too hard on yourself!"* Robyn said, looking aghast. *"You couldn't possibly have known!"* she gripped Stephanie's hand, but the thief still looked morose. 

*"I should have known better, we could have been better prepared."*

*"We were plenty prepared,"* Kate countered. *"We might be a little banged up, but if we hadn't been there, tons more people would have died. And who knows what Sionis would have done if we hadn't slowed him and his thugs down."*

*"It sounds like he's after the Cypher,"* Damien said. *"He means to use the Beast to defeat Father."*

They sat in silence for a while, everyone except Alfred quietly bleeding onto the floor of the coach.

*"Sionis."* Sir Pennyworth said, shaking his head. *"What the hell happened to that man?"*

*"I dunno,"* said Stephanie. *"But I have a bad feeling we haven't seen the last of him."*


***************************

The carriage pulled onto Wayne Isle, and hooded and silent House Wayne attendants helped the party out of the coach, providing healing salves to staunch the worst of the party's wounds. Alfred had used a _sending stone_ to warn ahead. Despite feeling tired and beaten, the party retreated not to their bedrooms in the castle, but to the Cave down below, where they sat around a curved bar in the barracks area, looking and feeling miserable. Alfred poured the women some drinks.

*"How long do you think before he gets back?"* Robyn asked, not feeling the need to qualify the "he" in that sentence.

*"More to the point, if Oracle wasn't at that party, where in the Hells was she tonight?"* Stephanie added.

Alfred shook his head, tossing back a glass of monastery-distilled whisky.

*"Don't know the answer to either of those questions, I'm afraid. But, seems to me, if Lady Oracle wasn't at the party, seems likely as not she was somewhere Uptown. Just kind of hard to say where."*

*"Close, but no cigar."*

They nursed their drinks for another hour or so, exhausted and hurt but too strung up to go to sleep. Talk occasionally bounced around the bar.

*"We should've done more,"* Robyn rued.

*"Now you're both too hard on yourselves."* Kate chided. *"Was that your first proper battle? You did well."*

Robyn removed her hand from her glass, revealing a bloody partial handprint from when she'd previously been holding her (now closed) wound. 

*".....how do you figure??"* she exclaimed.

*"Because we're all alive."* Kate said coolly.

At around that moment, someone seemed to have woken Questor, and she bounded down from the Castle upstairs, running into the barracks to find her wounded comrades. She shot straight to Kate, looking over her injuries, practically sputtering with worry. Kate tried to wave her away, insisting she was fine, but Renee wouldn't have it, and began praying, keeping her arms wrapped firmly around her dark companion. Holy magic flowed into the barracks, closing most of Kate's injuries.

*"Got any more of that for us?"* Damien sniggered.

But at that moment, they heard a straight, echoing neighing sound, like the screech of a great steed from the Other Side. From the waterfall at the mouth of the cave, a great black stallion rode into the hideout, crying out triumphally as it went. The party got up to meet the rider as he rode into the stable area of the base. It was Bruce, still covered in his dark armor. His steed was black as midnight, dressed in it's own elaborate looking mithril barding. Behind him, on a destrier of his own, was, mercifully, Sir Richard.

*""Sorry about that everyone,"* Richard said, looking chagrinned as the two dismounted. *"Kind of lost my head back there."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien, Spoiler, Robyn and Kate each get a _potion of cure moderate wounds_, 2d8+10 healing. Kate takes an additional 3d8+8 healing from Questor.

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Your mind was unfortified."  He remarked bluntly, _scoldingly_, at Sir Richard; and then, turning his eyes to his father's sable regalia.  "And you're slower than I've ever seen you."

It is hard to categorize such comments from the boy's lips.  They are intensely critical; but it is possible criticism is his primary language of concern.  That, or he's just a little as***le who is incapable of offering unqualified appreciation.

"Most importantly, we've learned how growingly desperate these factions are to find Lord Dent.  Presumably, they think he has the Codex.  They must know he broke into the Vaults, and then went into hiding.  We _need_ that cypher!"

----------


## JbeJ275

After a long slow moment to draw her breath, and to still the shaking that threatened to overwhelm her. Then, ready to dispel any magic that was flung her way she stepped back into the room, checking whether Tetch was still fighting, if he was deisabled and needed medical care to survive or if he was beyond he reach of what she could do now.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Bending down to admire her desperate handiwork, Oracle pulled the bat shaped icicles out of Tetch's chest, and checked the miserly little gnome's pulse to see if there was still something to work with.

But there wasn't. The gnome had no pulse, and a slick pool of blood was rapidly filling the floor under his body. She knew that, had he gotten a spell off instead, she might have been in serious trouble, possibly even found herself trading places with him. 
Still, for a moment, it was hard not to feel as though she'd just done something she couldn't take back, and wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was...a curious feeling.

Somewhere at the bottom of the tower, a cat seemed to howl mournfully.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbaras stress and irritation found the only available channel. 

Screw you you mangy cat! If youd been the slightest but helpful neither of us would be in this situation!

With that, she crouched down and drew the body into the bag of holding. Then she began to search the room more properly. Magical items were a secondary priority to any notes, and she tried to figure out if he must have a secondary study for mundane affairs or if it would all be here. She also took Tetchs wand, holding it arms reach as she tucked that away as well.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Searching the lab, Oracle uncovered a veritable trove.

One complicating factor was that the (now deceased) gnomish noble was clearly something of a lunatic, and making out some of his personal work at writings was tricky. But, not everything in here was his own creation, and even those she was able to somewhat sift through.

The body itself had two other wands, a scroll case carrying six spell scrolls, two potions, and a spell book, which was full. She couldn't decipher what was in it without more time for inspection, so she left all that in her bag while she worked. Most if not all of his clothes and jewelry also radiated magic, which she filed away for later.

In the alchemy lab she found a shelf with four elixers, twelve more potions and four vials of what looked like poison, each with a matching antidote. Everything was, at present, unidentified tha ja to the Hatter's mad scrawl.

There were at least 8 different pieces of headwear hanging on hooks in the lab, they all had auras as well. The desk contained another six spell scrolls, a wand and a rod, along with a second spell book (just as difficult to decipher as the first. This too was full). There was a second spellbook on the desk, this one blank except for nine pages in the back, leaving 91 pages available. There was enough arcane components to write another 20 pages of spells for free, if she chose to grab it.

She found a sorted coin box containing 2,000 GP, 4,000 SP, 800 CP and 500pp. Each denomination was sorted neatly in stacks, making it the only orderly thing in the entire mad castle. Banker House indeed.

Finally, and most importantly, we're the Hatter's letters. The top most one was a draft, partially written in Tetch's obnoxious sing-songy cant to The Penguin, Lord Cobblepott himself. (here, at least, the Gnome had carried the good sense not to actually address his Deurgar overlord as "The Penguin"). 

She scanned it for a moment before revealing that the letter was, itself, a response. A bit of searching and she found what Tetch had been replying to.

The Penguin must have sent his missive via the Tubes; it was dated the day after the Siege of Chelsea Motte. He was furious. The letter was, itself, fairly incriminating, the Penguin practically discussing open treason against House James.

Apparently, the deurgars had kept the James', their ostensible Lord's, on the ropes for years. The only reason, it seemed, that they hadn't taken over the city was because the Dark Knight had arrived. Once Bruce stopped patrolling the city, they'd begun to build momentum again. At least, that was, until Chelsea Motte.

Now Lord Gordon had opened a formal investigation (which he'd apparently notified Cobblepott of, quietly) of the Bankers' operations. The Merchant's Guild was making a comeback, and House Sionis was now leveraging it's control of the Craftsmen's Guild to impair the Bankers' operations. Cobblepott had written about "These Skull Faced idiots guarding every guild hall. If we don't get what we want soon, I'll have to march there in force and burn them out myself!"

Finally, the Bard's we're openly discussing the Bankers' turmoil in the Herald, and the Blackgates had stepped up patrols downtown.

Oswald's plot required exposing the Gordon's and James' weakness, as an opportunity to rally support and pull the Mage's College away from the Black Tower (the seat of House James). If, he figured, the Wizards finally decided that Lord James couldn't hold the city together, Cobblepott would have his opening. 

All he needed was the right amount of dirt, or the right victim.

The mystery remained unsolved, however. He'd ordered Tetch to attend a party at Hill Hall, revealing that both Lord James and Boss Falcone would be there. Tetch had begun his reply, presumably before setting off to the party, but he was now too dead to reveal what -- or who -- they'd conspired to acquire at that party. She had almost the whole puzzle, evidence potentially incriminating enough to bring Cobblepott down. She was just missing one key piece.

_Who was Tetch going to see at that party??_

There were four other notes in the table -- each written to Tetch. She saw one seal with a "?" Sigil on it, another with the sigil of House Crane, and two more without wax seals attached. She went to read them, when she heard something from the window that caught her attention. She grabbed all of the letters and secured them before peeking out to see what was happening.

Outside, far away, carried through echoes that bounced along the spires of Uptown, she could hear the sound of battle. She looked northeast, almost feeling she knew what she'd see: sure enough, the light of fire and the curl of smoke rose from where she could only assume Hill Hall sat. Blue and red _dancing lights_ a swarm of them, glowed and blinked from the area, and she heard the unmistakable sound of battle.

Then, a second noise. This coming from inside the tower. She heard the hiss of steam, and the pounding clank of dozens of pairs of boots slogging their way up the tower staircase, towards her.

She had a few moments left, maybe a few minutes. She looked back at the lab, with it's contents. Then, her eyes landed on the enchanted and warded metal chest below the desk.

Decisions, decisions....

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## JbeJ275

Her thoughts of recrimation, of other noble houses ended in the night by unseen mages, all of that was banished by a pressing need for action. First, a few steps out the stairwell and a web spell. The quickly growing strands of sticky web forming a physical barrier that anyone who tried to approach this room would hae to physically fight through bit by bit before interupting her desperate search. Then a recast spell of invisibility, it was less likely all these goods could have true seeing enchantments woven about them, and it would shield her from any other viewers without the right spells as well. Then she set about the space, trying to brute force her way past the metal chest's wards then disable any protections that survived her purges and pop any physical lock in just a second rather than the minutes it might usually take her. 

After pausing a second to listen for the progress of Tetch's guards, she quickly ran to the lab, taking several handfulls of the most apparently powerful reagents and products, before recalling Juluis and swapping back out the tower. Behind her she replaced the dislodged brick and then made to flee the house. 


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Spells Cast:
Web
Invisibility
Dsipel Magic
Instant Locksmith (Swapped from Grease)
Benign Transposition

I have one third level and three 4th level slots left but nothing else. 

Rolls:

Disple Magic: (1d20+9)[*23*] to supress the magic warding the chest
Open Lock: (1d20+8)[*17*] as a free action
Disable Device: (1d20+20)[*27*] to supress any other traps or wards on the chest

Search: (1d20+21)[*30*] to effectively ransack the lab
Move Silently: (1d20+17)[*36*] to fade away once outside of the tower

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Tetch Hall*
Show

Barbara did her work quickly, efficiently and ruthlessly, emptying the lab's valuable contents into her bag with speed, accuracy and determination. By the time she was done, virtually nothing of true value remained. 

Except, of course, the metal chest below the table. She blasted aside the wards with a well honed and masterfully delivered dispel, and managed to more or less force her way past the lock while the arcana was neutralized. Inside she found a book radiating intense power, along with two masks, (one of which was made of crystal, the other leather, but the second mask only covered the wearer's eyes, not the lower half of her face), a magically enchanted cloak, and a specially molded crystal that looked like it ought to be set into something -- this radiated psionic power.

There was something about the chest -- it's wards, the clearly expensive content -- that seemed to underscore a certain element of urgency. Whatever these items were, Tetch either found them incredibly important or incredibly dangerous. In addition, though the tome was magical, she was sure almost immediately that it was _not_ a spellbook, unlike the other three books she'd seized.

After exiting the tower, Barbara was made good her escape from Tetch Hall, moving silently and almost effortlessly away from the dangerous lunatic castle. The gnomes would be furious, of course. She expected that repercussions would follow after the apparent "disappearance" of their lord (she hadn't bothered to try cleaning up the blood, after all) but she was already in the mood for it. The Tetch's might've been crazy, but they were ultimately extremely culpable in the city's woes, and given what she'd seen, more than a little too fond of mind control and enchantments for her taste. Flashes of the fireball engulfing the innocent crew on the casino boat burst into her mind, and she tried bitterly to suppress them. Yet the helpless feeling she'd had as they burned remained.

It was pretty easy to get away from Tetch Hall and take one of the Uptown bridges to South Channel Island. Near Candle Park was another elven hamlet, this one similarly ensorcelled like the one they'd visited the first time they'd been to the island. However, it was plain and obvious that the mood was quite a bit more subdued than it had been the first time they'd arrived. Elves, humans and even the occasional gnome lounged around, drinking and smoking, but the entire village was mostly quiet, and seemed emptier and less festive. The prestidigitations that the elves had used to decorate before were largely absent or much more subdued, as if the magic artists who'd put them up felt melancholy or disenchanted. Eventually, she found what looked like would pass for an inn. 

The bottom floor was largely open, not packed with tables or chairs like a human tavern. To the side, large pillows lined the floor and more than a few people were lounging on them, some asleep, some simply holding one another. A single faerie fire lamp flickered in a corner, casting shadows over the figures there. A second lamp lit the desk near the stairway, where a positively ancient looking gray lef sat reading a book. Oracle proferred some coin.

*"Got any rooms with a desk and a study?"*

The old elf didn't so much as say "yes" as he took her coin and handled her a key, barely looking up from his tome. *"End of the hall."* he replied, speaking in elvish instead of common. Fortunately, Oracle spoke the language, otherwise she'd be guessing. She trundled up the stairs, fatigue finally starting to set in, and found herself walking down a long hallway, lined with six doors, three on each side, and a single more ornate door at the end. The key did it's work and the door opened, revealing a rather spacious suite. It had a round elven "bed" (more a huge cushion sitting on the floor, complete with additional cushions for her head) a sprawling L-shaped desk, and a secondary foyer area with a table, cubboard, some food and wine. It opened to a balcony, which also had a couple of chairs and a small table, looking out over the lantern lit village below.

This would do nicely.

Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with her bag and it's...contents.


*Spoiler: The Batcave*
Show

*Spoiler: OOC - Please Read*
Show

Okay everyone, for this next bit I'll ask you to pop into roll20. What you _should_ see there is the front page of the Gotham Herald scroll which I'll be mentioning in the post below.


Bruce nodded.

*"Unlocking the book is the key, I agree. But we've got more mounting troubles. We still need to be sure that once we've got what we need that we can draw that beast out, and destroy it. And in the meantime, we need to make sure that Gotham's corrupt nobles don't burn the city down while we're at it. Black Mask took a hit today, which is good. But he's just the latest threat to rear his head. We've got the Bankers and the Thieves to worry about too. And since we weren't able to bring him to justice, I think it's fair to assume this battle isn't over."*

*"Isn't it possible that Lord Gordon will have seized him and his men by now, Master Bruce?"* Alfred said.

*"Possible, but not likely. When I left, the Justicars had amassed a huge force -- there might have been as many as five hundred men -- and were working their way onto the Hill Hall grounds. But House Sionis was very well armed and stocked. Their war wagons had light ballistae and Black Mask had as many troops holding the grounds as he did in the keep. Don't get me wrong -- you all did great work, and we've got some new leads to work with, but it's a lot more likely that they managed to get away. Once the Justicars reclaimed Hill Hall I doubt they bothered to pursue, unfortunately."*

*"If we found their hideout, we might be able to get the Justicars and the Blackgates to descend on them. They've got all the evidence they need to bring them low, we just need to find them."* said Nightwing.

*"That's not a terrible point. Right now I think we could all do with some healing and rest, but tomorrow that ought to be where we start."* Bruce replied.

The party slept uneasily in the castle that night and into the morning. They were safe -- they'd all made it out of Hill Hall alive, and uncrippled. But Oracle was still out there, doing The Gods' knew what, and that night, the city had bled. Things were getting more and more dangerous, and their ranks were still shrunken.

The following afternoon, when they awoke, Bruce gathered everyone in the Great Hall. It was, predictably, empty, though a large fire roared in it's main hearth. The servants of the castle, whoever and wherever they were, remained absent. Kate, Renee, Stephanie, Robyn, Damien, Richard and Alfred all joined Bruce around the large darkwood table with the direbat sigil in the middle. Hanging from the ceiling around them were the banners of the Wayne's vassals and allies. Kate couldn't help but notice the red direbat sigil of House Kane still hung behind her. Not far from where Sir Richard sat, a black banner, with a blue raven gleamed. Behind Alfred, the sigil of House Pennyworth, and so on.

*"Alright, we've got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. I know everyone here is nursing an injury or six from yesterday. We'll need to do what we can to heal up and get back to work. I'm afraid circumstances in the city are moving faster that we are."*

Questor nodded.

*"Well I have one piece of good news, for those who are interested. I've been working on our snake headed friend down in the cave. It's not been pleasant, but she's finally started talking. I gave her some food and rest last night, but we should probably go pay her a visit today."*

*"We also need to talk about what happened last night."* said Stephanie. *"Boss Falcone, Lord James, and Lord Tetch all attending the same party? In the open? Plus it's both revealing and odd that Black Mask decided to hit Hill Hall that night. He had to know who was there. And this isn't the first keep he's knocked over, from what we understand. But Lord James won't be able to keep his raids quiet anymore. What else, is, he seemed to think that one or more of the lords at that party, possibly Falcone himself, seems to know where Harvey Dent is hiding. Why would he think that? Is he right?"*

*"That's not all."* said Bruce. He took out a rolled up fist of scrolls and tossed them into the center of the table for the party to read. They were Gotham Herald scrolls from that morning. The headlines were....bleak.
*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay! Time for some roleplay. Tell me what you want to do. We've got a medusa who's ready to talk (though don't expect her to be friendly), we've got leads from last night, and leads from the morning's paper (or are they warnings?) and you've got a quest log full of missions. Who's up first?

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien let the silence hand in the air as they all glanced over the displayed headlines.  At least the South Channel Island case was hopefully closed - he'd have to talk to their ophidian prisoner about that.  But he was adrift, when considering the politics of the college of Evocation.  And the Bard Guild story...

"...We might need to devote some resources towards this Fools versus Bards situations.  It's getting worse, by the reading.  And the Bard's Guild are one of the few potential allies available to us.  And one of the best possibly informed."  The cold tacticality of this assessment, the lack of spoken concern for the people killed, was given little time for remark.

"..As for Lord Dent... He's sought after for two reasons, then.  Both because they believe he has the means to harness the monster, and because his presence is required for the collaboration of the Bankers?  That sounds like good new.  As long as he hides, our enemies are slowed; and even if they find him, he doesn't have the Codex - we do."

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## JbeJ275

That night, Barbara slept uneasily. Her dreams full of fire and ice, blood of the innocent and the guilty pooling together at her feet. Her hand moving, her dreaming mind unable to tell whether it was her own fighting instricts or something else controlling it. 

When she awoke, she immedietly went abour her buissness. Outrunning her fears through constant activity she took only a few minutes to dress, wash and triple check the room for any sign of intrusion. Then out came the letters taken from tetch's desk last night, she felt them out with her magic looking for the possibility of traps, she read them slowly and deliberately and returned them to the original envelopes. Only then did she go downstairs to eat and settle her costs with the inkeeper. 

The items needed to be categorised and checked over for curses, but individually identifying them would drain a lot of her magic. She'd heard some magic item perveyors had items they used to speed the process though, that if nothing else ensured she'd have to drop in on Fox later today giving her a chance to determine the exact nature of the Churl's crimes while she was there.  First though, she had to break into a full Justicar station, Bullock continued to roam free, but without Tetch's backing she'd be better able to ensure that state of affairs came to an end.

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## Feathersnow

Kate relaxes in the company of Questor, easing out of the heightened state of readiness she was in during battle.  After a hearty breakfast she realizes the ithets are waiting for her input.  Strategy was not her strong point, though.

The Theives Guild would be my biggest concern, but I'm a soldier, not a general.  It just seems bad to leave an enemy behind us

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien frowns, but nods.  "The key to shutting down the Theives Guild is Velnire.  And Spoiler's new _friends_ gave me a lead in that regard - if we can denude him of a particular gem that made his credibility, his capacity to lead will fall apart and they'll likely disperse, at least for now.  But to get that, we'll need to know where he hides out.  And for that... without Barbara here to make it easy, we need friends who know things - that's why I'm thinking the Bards."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island*
Show

 Oracles efforts, were, eventually, rewarded. She was able to track down the item she sought, but the elf mage who was providing it was charging 1,500 GP for the pleasure -- black market sales, she explained. Off the College's radar, comes at an extra price. Oracle suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. On the College books or off of them, what was the difference? She got gouged either way.

Still, magical Monacle in hand she returned to her work, and began researching the items now in her inventory.

*Spoiler: Magic Item Identifications -- Revealed!*
Show

- Wand of Dominate Person (25 Charges) (CL 14)
- Four Scrolls of Identify
- Scroll of Detect Thoughts
- Scroll of Feeblemind
- Scroll of Confusion
- Scroll of Major Illusion
- Six Potions of Resistance (+5)
- One Potion of Invisibility
- One Potion of Spell Immunity (3 spells)
- Four Potions of Cure Moderate Wounds (2d8+10)
- Two Potions of Lesser Restoration
- main spellbook
- Boots of Levitation
- Hat of Domination
- Ring of Protection +2
- Ring of Wizardry III
- Ring of Minor Spell Storing
- Elixirs of Love (1), Vision (1), and Truth (x2)
- 1 Vial of Siren's Breath, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Slow Death, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Goodbye Kiss, with Antidote
- 1 Vial of Salvo, with Antidote
- Hat of Disguise
- Hat (as Helm) of Comprehend Languages and Read Magic
- Hat (as Helm) of Telepathy
- Circlet of Persuasion
- Circlet of Major Blasting
- Hat (as Helm) of Brilliance
- Helm of Underwater Action
- Hat of Anonymity
- spellbook 2
- spellbook 3
- 20 pages worth of arcane components for spell scribing
- Rod of Wonder
- 2,000 Gold Pieces
- 4,000 Silver Pieces
- 800 Copper Pieces
- 500 Platinum Pieces
- Crystal Mask of Mindarmor
- Mask of Mental Armor
- Armor Crystal of Greater Mind Cloaking
- Tome of Insight (+1)


*Spoiler: Spellbook 1*
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This spellbook is written in Tetch's mage hand. You can copy the spells into your own book (per PHB) but can't cast out of this one.
*First 19 pages are just Cantrips you already know*

*Level 1*
- Charm Person
- Hypnotism
- Sleep

*Level 3*
- Deep Slumber
- Hold Person
- Blink

*Level 4*
- Charm Monster
- Confusion 

*Level 6*
- Mass Bull's Strength
- Mass Bear's Endurance
- Mass Cat's Grace
- Mass Fox's Cunning
- Mass Suggestion

*Level 7*
- Symbol of Stunning

*Level 8*
- Mass Charm Monster 
- Otto's Irresistible Dance 
- Demand


*Spoiler: Spellbook 2*
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his spellbook is written in Tetch's mage hand. You can copy the spells into your own book (per PHB) but can't cast out of this one.
*Level 1*
- Ventriloquism
- Silent Image

*Level 2*
- Torrent of Tears
- Tasha's Hideous Laughter
- Daze Monster
- See Invisibility

*Level 3*
- Bothersome Babble

*Level 4*
- Melf's Slumber Arrows
- Vecna's Malevolent Whisper

*Level 5*
- Dismissal
- Break Enchantment
- Cloudkill
- Feeblemind
- Mindfog
- False Vision

*Level 6*
- Symbol of Persuasion
- Transfix
- Endless Slumber

*Level 7*
- Mass Hold Person
- Insanity

*Level 8*
- Power Word: Stun

*Level 9*
- Dominate Monster


*Spoiler: Spellbook 3*
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This spellbook is mostly blank, and prime for writing down new spells, except for one single big fat nine-pager in the back. The only spell scribed herein is:
*Programmed Amnesia*




*Spoiler: Wayne Castle*
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*"This all sounds great,"* said Bruce. *"But I can't let us just give up on Oracle. Someone has to get back out there and get her back. If the three of you--"* he seemed to be including Damien, Kate and Sir Richard *"--want to finish off the Thieves Guild, maybe get a train going on Dent again, that's probably smart. I'll go out tonight and see what I can track down about Oracle."*

Sir Alfred practically growled.

*"You most certainly will not!"* he snapped. *"I dare say Master Wayne I've put a fair bit too much effort into mending you to have you run off again before you're properly ready. That raid by Lord Sionis was ugly but young Master Damien here is right; you were moving slow. And Sir Richard got bested by the Tetch's so you're both in the doghouse in my book. You need to be more careful."*

*"We can't just give up on one of our own, Alfred!"* Bruce snapped. *"Oracle put her faith in us. She didn't have to. I said we needed her, and we do. How are we going to finish unraveling this nightmare if we're down our only halfway competent wizard?"*

Richard shrugged.

*"Let me find her then."* all eyes turned towards him. *"Alfred's right, I was sloppy last night. I'm supposed to be mentally prepared for the Tetch's shenanigans; hells, I interrogated him in his dumb pastel castle not a week ago and he still got the drop on me last night. Let me track down Oracle. Consider it a redemption mission."*

*"We could help!"* Robyn added. *"You'll need some ears on the ground."* Stephanie nodded emphatically, heartily agreeing.

*"Alright..."* said Bruce. *"Then, if we're in agreement, Damien and Kate will try to run down the thieves and see if they can push Velnire out of business for good. If Falcone feels the bottom falling out from under him, he might even be willing to spill the beans on House Dent. Are you two going to head to the Opera House tonight then?"*

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## MrAbdiel

Damien untenses a little.  This... seems to cover most bases.  They _did_ need to find Barbara.  As much as he'd like to say they were better off without her, they definitely weren't.  He, and Kate, both had freshly stitched wounds because they didn't have their full toolkit without that third element.  And Nightwing, Spoiler and Robyn were the right cantidates.  And while he'd prefer to get information from someone other than Falcone...

"Yes.  Let's speak to the vaunted _don_ of the Gotham underworld.  He does, after all, owe us his life.  If there's honor among theives - which I doubt - it might count for something."

*Spoiler: OOC:*
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I'd better drink that potion right away.  Glug glug glug!  (2d8+10)[*21*] restored HP.  This is the next night, yeah?  We had a night of rest? That's worth another *9*.  Mind telling me what the HP on my token was, on the last screen?  I think it was like... 6.  I got chopped, is the important part.

EDIT:  Forensically determined it.  I was at 11.  I'm now up to 41/45.  Hoo-ah!

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## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island*
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Oracle spent the following day working on getting her arcana in order. It took a long time to analyze all of the gear she'd found from Lord Tetch, though she now understood why he was colloquially known as "The Hatter". But she was now much better armed than ever before, and she embarked on the next leg of her dark quest feeling empowered.

She went outside the hotel and made her way through the hamlet, and back towards the bridge off the island. The path from the hamlet to the bridge that led into Uptown was a winding, only slightly overgrown cobblestone footpath; it looked almost picturesque as autumn had turned the trees auburn and twisting sylvan lampposts marked the way towards the water.

When she got near the bridge, she noticed something odd. What looked like a whole mob of people coming off the bridge, most of them dressed in peasants garb, but some dressed like fools or circus performers, making their way off of the bridge and into the forest towards the north. They followed any only barely noticeable path, one that had been neglected by the years, marked only by a broken signpost. They seemed to be signing. The elves coming off the bridge made their way rapidly towards the hamlet, avoiding the crowd. 

Barbara reached the bridge, and took a moment to take stock of things. Behind her, the hamlet, the last of the elves commuting from uptown hurrying towards the safety of their own homes. To her left, the disappearing voices of the strange, motley crowd. And ahead of her, the footbridge leading Uptown, where she'd find an Arcane Rail station that'd take her to her target -- Bloodhound Bullock's home.


*Spoiler: Wayne Castle*
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After meeting in the great hall and agreeing on their course of action, The Family began to make their preparations for the evening. Stephanie, Robyn, Kate and Questor all made their way down to the armory. Alfred oversaw some upgrades for Spoiler and Robyn, in case the two of them got into any trouble during their investigation. Robyn in particular was outfitted with a new suit of enchanted black leather armor, who's reinforced armored corset was emblazoned with an etched-leather bat sigil of her own, bringing her fully into the family. For Kate, Alfred produced a new boon -- a _djore of body adjustment,_ which he hinted only that he'd struggled mightily to find, leaving the rest of the story around it's acquisition untold. Damien had his pick of a few new poisons to choose from, and Alfred also handled him three _potions of cure moderate wounds_, *"Just in case we run into any very violent skeleton-looking men again tonight, Young Master Wayne."*

And for Stephanie, he produced a pair of new sai's, these being enchanted, and themselves carved vaguely into the shape of the Family's signature direbats.

Sir Richard went away from the rest of the crew and began transforming back into Nightwing, but Damien wandered off from the armory and made his way to the dungeons, where -- he'd been promised -- their captive might finally be ready to talk.

He was deathly quiet -- the gorgon's hair noticed him before she did, blindfolded as she was. The mane of snakes hissed, and the medusa sighed.

*"Oh goodie, a visitor..."* she said, sibilant "s" sounds sliding over her tongue like scales over cobblestones. *"What can I do for you.?"*

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## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons*
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Damien frowned through the bars at the creature.  The many eyes on her ophidian locks stared back at him, though the hard leather blindfold was tight over the eyes that mattered.  Strictly speaking, this creature had done nothing specific that they had witnessed - but that was only because their ambush had been partway successful.  In a less fortunate break of things, he - or Kane, or Gordon - would be turned to stone and sunken to the bottom of the channel.  She was every bit as deadly and capable as the now deceased mind flayer; and presumably, as the ogre-mage still at large.  She hadn't seen him coming, or been conscious to hear his voice on the ship; and it felt unnecessary to let her know he was the party most directly responsible for her incarceration.

"You can talk.  One of your friends is dead, and the other abandoned you.  I can't say I rate your chances of rescue.  But every day you're alive, there's a chance of one disaster or lucky break that gives you a chance to escape; so I hope you'll be reasonable and cooperative.  To hand you over to any kind of judging authority will mean execution on principle; but it's the logical step.  But we don't have to take that step today.  Not if, say, you felt like giving some information about where your ogre friend might have fled to - why should you be made to suffer alone?  Or maybe you want to talk about why you left South Channel Island, since it seemed you had a pretty stable operation there."

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons*
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The medusa sighed as if annoyed. *"Pfff. You'll have no trouble tracking down Mirv...just look for the nearest coward-shaped rock and you'll be right on top of her."* she hissed. *"She's always been a low-talent criminal. If it wasn't for the magic and the giant muscles Gotham would have eaten her alive ages ago. Or Hypo would have. Either way, she didn't have a specific hideout to run to, she was just running because Hypothalo and I are stronger than she is, and she didn't want to get her arse kicked."*

*"Okay, fair enough,"* said Damien. *"Then why the retreat from South Channel Island? I thought you all had a good thing going there. No Justicars, lots of victims...casino fit in with the elven nightlife...."*

*"Yea, it was perfect."* she replied. *"Almost, anyway. South Channel Island was getting too hot. Some adventurers came in this past week and worked the place over. That was the first problem -- Fey in the woods all started getting...itchy. Never a good sign. The elves started to raise their guard too, that made it harder to find marks."*

*"So it was a business decision."*

*"Hells no. It was a survival decision. The biggest issue wasn't the spooks in the woods or the elves. The problem was the Cult."*

*"What's this cult?"*

The medusa sighed loudly again, as if she was explaining something obvious.

*"The CULT. The clowns, the jesters, the bards' rejects. The SCI cult. I don't know how you could possibly not know about this, everyone on the island knew. A bunch of lunatics dressed as carnies had been camping out in the old Carnival Grounds. It's been a graveyard ever since the Bards forced it shut after Thomas Wayne died."*

*"Yea, I heard about that. Then some lunatic calling himself the Jester started committing horrific crimes against the Bards until the Dark Knight showed up and locked him in Arkham."*

At this, the medusa became extremely calm, and her head snakes seemed to regard him coolly, cautiously.

*"Yes. That's what happened. That's the story."* she said, a bit quieter. Her voice had become measured, deliberate, almost monotone. *"But now, some new carnies have moved in. And they worship the fey gods, and they're recruiting lots and lots of Gotham's most desperate citizens to join them, m'kay? And they're a bit more trouble than they're worth so we figured if they were gonna stay on the island, we would leave. There, I answered your questions...happy now?"*

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## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons*
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"Yes, actually.  Feeling quite vindicated in not handing you over to the headsman at once.  Do you... need anything?  Some kind of reward?  A bag of mice for your hair?"

It's unclear if Damien is joking, on this point.  Honestly, the answer to the question isn't clear to anyone with sufficient curiosity.  "Maybe... something more comfortable to sleep on?"

Once she's accepted - or rejected - some manner of information exchange for trivial comforts, then Damien needs no more from her, right now.  Perhaps _mercy_ was the right thing, in this case; another underline under the urgency of the Bard-Jester affair was worth knowing.  The diminutive ninja withdrew, then.  Time to ask the Bards themselves.

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## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: South Channel Island*
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Beneth her mask, which was itself hidden by a hood Barbara's eyebrow moved up a tick at the movement of the mob, she knew the danger of distraction but at the same time, she was not in such a place that she could afford to be blindsided by things like this. Thusly she took a moment to focus on acertaining their intentions, first recalling what she'd heard and how well the look of this group matched the fool's guild, and whether they carried themselves as criminals, as carriers of terror worse than the desperate lot that dominated the criminal class of this city or whether they were simply playing up their hand to terrify the locals for kicks. Creul, but ultimately unremarkable in the current state of the city. 

If she has reason to suspect any significant quantity of Malice, she'll scurry ahead of the group and ready herself in their path, hiding away and then casting _Detect Thoughts_ to try and better understand their motives and whether this situation could yield any information or if it needed her urgent intervention.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
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Knowledge Local: (1d20+12)[*21*]
Sense Motive: (1d20+5)[*22*]
Casting Detect Thoughts on the group
Hide: (1d20+16)[*36*]

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## Molan

*Spoiler: Wayne Castle - Dungeons*
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The medusa sighed, and eventually shrugged. *"Bedding and a pillow would be lovely. The food here's fine, strangely enough. That old knight you've got keeping the cells is oddly friendly. Where in the Hells are we, anyway?"*


*Spoiler: South Channel Island*
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Oracle stalked the mob as they began to progress into the woods. Her scan cast over them, and she was able to start drawing in information quickly. Their minds were incredibly unguarded.

First, she felt a rush of thoughts. Then, the minds themselves began to take shape. Almost everyone here was either at middling or lower-than-average intelligence, nothing to write home about. A couple of quick wits in the crowd, but they were few and far between. Finally, their inner voices began to make their way to her ears. Some were simply excited to be part of a crowd -- a movement -- anything. She was almost overwhelmed the the staunch, entrenched misery and cynicism she felt from many of these people. These were peasants who'd never had anything, never would have anything, and for whom suffering had become a daily fact of life. They were happy to be out here because it was _wrong_, because it was _different,_ because it somehow felt rebellious and risque and new and exciting all at the same time. They didn't really care much more than that.

Others were feeling transcendent, moved even. This group was different from the first -- just as miserable, to be sure. But the second group had something the first group lacked: hope. They felt this new community they'd found had given their life a purpose, that it might actually help them, lift them up. To her their unhinged passions felt sympathetic, but also wild and dangerous.

A smaller group was just plain nervous or scared. They were hoping that their new friends were a positive change, but much of what they were about -- South Channel Island, with it's ghosts and strange elven communities, worshiping illegal gods, and whatever else might come -- made them fearful. They weren't really sure what their new friends had in store for them, but like everyone else there, they were desperate.

But it was the smattering of individuals who appeared as out-of-work carnival performers who, unsurprisingly, stood out. They were a bit smarter than the peasants, though not necessarily always more dedicated. But they were all intensely excited. They loved their leaders -- worshiped them, even. But the source of this love was not that of lost, desperate souls looking for salvation. The fools wanted _revenge._ One man kept rolling a thought over and over in his head. _"The Plan...the plan...just imagine the look on their highbrow faces when they witness the Plan. The Bards will see then...everyone in Gotham will see. They'll all be paying attention then."_

Another was even more fanatical: _"The beast...the beast is invincible...only with the Gods' servant can we throw down the false Lords. The beast...imagine all that power...."_

None of it really made sense, but the overwhelming sense of grievance and malicious, trollish anger and glee she felt from the trolls seemed like a red flag. Whatever their leader asked these men (and one woman, she noticed) to do, they'd do.

She decided to keep following them, but didn't attack. After all, she hadn't really learned anything, and lots of men and Gotham were wicked and trollish. She needed more.

That's when the trees opened back up and they saw it for the first time: The Carnival Grounds. Like anyone in the city, Oracle had of course heard the stories of the Old Carnival. But, in fact, she'd actually been there before. When she was much younger, before the death of Lord Thomas Wayne, her father had taken her there as a child. That had to be one of the last years the Carnival was open before it'd collapsed, and she didn't remember very much of it, other than it was bright, and colorful, and spectactular.

No longer. Though many of the tents and statues and grand stands still stood, they were torn, ripped, molded, overgrown and neglected. The entire place was -- or should have been -- abandoned. Once festive jeering fool's faces now seemed menacing and forlorn, as the strange moonlight of South Channel island cast shadows over them and strings covered in decaying pendants flapped in the breeze. The ground was strewn with scattered trash, the attractions were all empty and decrepit, and the whole place seemed horribly, irrevocably haunted.

And yet, this was exactly the environment the crowd she was watching passed into. A couple of them carried colored lanterns, but the group mostly passed through the gloomy dark, making their way inexorably towards the center of the Carnival. As Oracle watched, she spotted a couple of other groups as well; she could only make them out by their own colored lanterns, but there was clearly another group coming from the northwest, and another from the south. THey were all headed towards the center of the grounds.

Oracle continued to follow her main group, until the grand circus loomed in the distance. This was the largest tent in the fair, massive even now as it sagged and was ripped, colored in incredible, once-bright stripes of color, it's entryway a massive caricatured clown's mouth. Wilted flags stuck out at regular intervals, secured as they were to the underlying tentpoles. There was light coming from inside. The groups of travelers all converged on the tent, passing through the fool's mouth, and joining the gathering within. Oracle thought she could hear music playing.

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## JbeJ275

*Spoiler: South Channel Island*
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[
Barbara but her lip, as this adventure threatened to sap to much of her strength. And the memories of this place, a time before the senseless killing started, one of the last memories of her parents she possessed, it felt blasphemous somehow to disregard these people in these place. People who had in many way the same concerns she fought for, but no ability to do it delicately or to reach the truly guilty to strike at them.

She still would not go among them though, far to dangerous. Instead she edged closer to tent, keeping it within her reach and cast spells of _Clairvoyance_ and _Clairaudience_ as the tension in the crowd steadily built.

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## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Grounds*
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Oracle extended her magical senses into the Tent. There were no magical defenses that she noticed to speak of. Staying hidden and sending her divinations forward was almost childsplay. The tent was packed; a huge crowd had gathered inside, with most of the attendees standing inside the old circus rings at the floor, but still plenty of other onlookers perched in the decaying bleachers surrounding the perimeter of the tent.

Most of the attendees were human, though there was a smattering of elves, gnomes and halflings throughout, plus more than a fair share of half-humans. The gathering almost seemed to be a veritable who's-who of Gotham's most downtrodden and disregarded. All throughout the center of the rings, most everyone was dressed in simple, dirty peasants' clothing, but there were plenty enough of the unemployed carnival workers scattered throughout the crowd. Quite a few more of them were perched in the bleachers surrounding the central stage. There were large scaffolds in the western part of the tent; they'd once been used to help erect props and scenery, or for platforms from which acrobats might of begun their routines. Now however, they just seemed to form a sort of spiderweb of causeways through the upper reaches of the tent, allowing a few more lurking circus clowns to look down on the gathering.

The tent was mostly lit with faerie fire, giving it a sort of twilit, dancing feeling inside the tent. The attendees were already chanting and clapping, calling out for "The Prophet". Whatever this gathering was, they were all incredibly excited. Oracle turned her sensor left, right, back, and forth, trying to get a sense of everyone in the crowd. Scanning upwards into the rafters, one woman caught her eye. She was lurking far above, on some of the scaffolding, and wore a suit of partially-covering, magically enchanted leather armor. She grinned down at the gathering, snacking on a piece of stale bread. LIke the other clowns in attendance, she wore some face paint, though it looked worn and fading, as if it hadn't been reapplied in weeks. She had a strange sort of grin on her face, and though she seemed to have the features of a highborne, the way she carried herself and dressed made her look much more like a street thug.

Oracle didn't have much more time to examine her though. In the westernmost ring, a stage had been erected, around which hung curtains that looked like they'd once been part of one of the other carnival tents outside. Magical lights splashed over the stage, and some of the curtains were pulled back, and the crowd went wild. Here, finally, out stepped The Prophet.

He was a strange looking figure. Tall, somewhat bent seeming, possibly thin, though it was hard to tell under his robes -- they also looked like they'd been ripped from one of the local tents, but they'd been cut into a crude facsimile of a Cleric's vestments. He was an elf, with long ears stretching back from his angular skull, though one of them was torn, and he had a hooked nose, sharp chine and a wide, toothy grin. Unlike the other clowns though, he wasn't wearing any makeup -- he seemed to Barbara very much like some of the street prophets she'd seen at various slum corners -- utterly ridiculous, but taking themselves extremely seriously. He spread his arms wide, and welcomed his "friends" into their "dark gathering". 

What followed was something resembling a rant -- Oracle had a hard time parsing through the vague sort of innuendo the Prophet was going on about, but the peasants all seemed to be eating it up. An anti-authoritarian strain was obvious, though. The Prophet railed against the corrupt, weak Lords of the city, against the Empire, and against the Imperial Church and their "pauper gods". In his telling, a time of ascendance was nigh, where the peasants would rule and the high lords would beg. The Fey Gods, he claimed had sent their chosen messenger -- the Dark Knight; who foretold through his presence the coming of the Fey Gods' chosen avenging angel. The Prophet went on to say, *"Your work, my children, will bring about the glorious new Twilight, and you will be the Chosen of Gotham. Everything you do now will hasten this glorious day!"* He almost seemed as though he couldn't help himself, and began chuckling a bit at that last line, while the crowd roared on in approval.

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## JbeJ275

Now reassured that this place was at the very least not meant as a trap for her Barbara begins to stealthily move forward, hoping to get the leader and if possible also the strange highborn gymnast in range for her to access their thoughts.

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## Feathersnow

Kate listens to Damien's report of the interrogation.   She was uncomfortable with holding a prisoner.  The Medusa freely admitted to willfully allying with The Enemy, so killing her was allowed under Lantern Law, and she was an accomplice after the fact to numerous slayings simply by that fact alone, and that was a capital crime under most jurisdictions that ignored her own writ.  But imprisonment, even were it the accused preference, was outside her legal power, and cooperation should be rewarded, so exacting it with no change in the inevitable outcome seemed.... wrong, somehow.

This Jester sounds like a problem, and his cult looks like an approaching storm. 

That said, I, unwisely, perhaps, laid out a gauntlet for the Theives Guild, and they picked it up.

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## MrAbdiel

"You kept the fear of the Knight alive.  Let them know it wasn't over; maybe even that it's getting worse for them.  It's hard to quantify the number of petty thugs and thieves who chose another path because the shadow of the She-Bat was cast over the city.  Soldiers don't get medals for battles never fought.  But when we've shut them down for good the whole city will know what happens to those who pick up that gauntlet.  We'll meet up at the Merchant Docks after.  By the end of the day, we'll have more evidence to go on against the Jesters, Theives, and the Dark Market all three."

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## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island -- Carnival Grounds*
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Oracle managed to work her way into the crowd fairly easily -- everyone was distracted by the preacher on the stage. Eventually she got fairly close to the stage itself, her hood still mostly obscuring her features from any would-be onlookers. She managed to just get the peripheral of her scan over the woman in the rafters and...

...madness. The woman's head was a bag of cats, a kaleidoscope of silly nonsensical images, dirty jokes, mean tricks and perverted musings. It was disorienting, at first, to experience the rush of insanity, but eventually she started to parse out what she was hearing.

The woman was, first and foremost, in love with the preacher down below. When she tried to deduce the elf's name, however, she just got a bunch of exploding images of hearts and wild fantasies. But more than that, she was excited -- giddy, even -- at the mayhem that he had planned. If there was any questions about what kind of danger this strange fey cult presented, the woman's internal monologue dispelled it. Oracle saw a network of hundreds -- no -- thousands of disenchanted and impoverished supporters throughout the city, ready and waiting for the cult's call, biding their time, preparing to strike.

The Cult was responsible for the recent attacks on the bards. That was interesting -- the original crimes the cult was copy-catting, back in the days when the Jester ran amok in Gotham, had been carefully coordinated, designed for maximum audience and effect. The Jester had been a part of all of it. The cult had started mimicking those attacks but in a much more haphazard way -- they'd encouraged their followers to "attack the minions of the city's corrupt rulers" and, lo and behold, individual mobs of peasants and criminals had attacked the bards in random, one-off fashion. The attacks mimicked the brutality and terror of the original Fools' Guild, but had none of their well-designed coordination. The woman knew that it was the Cult's fault these attacks had happened, but the attacks were _important._ They were giving their followers a taste for blood, and soon, as the attacks began to escalate and spread, the cult would have it's army.

Oracle struggled to figure out what the ultimate target of the cult might be, but she saw flashes of High Cleric's being hung from the Gotham Great Basilica, and sylvan looking banners wrapped around the Black Tower of James like ribbons, and she didn't need to gather much more than that. 

The cult wanted to overthrow the city, and possibly Imperial Rule along with it.

They were just waiting for...something. She couldn't tell quite what. Some key, pivotal moment that would allow them to spring their trap, and launch their plan into motion. The plans were hidden behind a door -- or was it a card? Oracle tried to approach the barrier in the woman's mind -- she could now see it looked like an Ace of Spades -- and used her concentration and mental will to force it open. It finally did, with a cackle, but instead of finding the answer, instead she was greeting by a flurry of furious looking direbats that vomited out of the opening and threatened to engulf her. She stopped reading the woman's thoughts.

_So that's what it's like to be in the mind of an ACTUAL lunatic._ she thought to herself.

*"Now! My children!"* the preacher was wrapping up his sermon, and Oracle felt a chill run down her spine. *"Now is the time to take the first step, to begin our Dark Crusade! Some of you have already enjoined with our noble congregation -- but for our new friends, it's time to step forward, and pledge yourself to our cause! Now, and for always!"*

The carnie thugs in the crowd began pushing the peasants towards the stage, and several others on the stage began to help the preacher prepare for whatever religious ceremony they were about to conduct. Oracle felt herself being shoved by the crowd toward the stage, along with everyone else. The first man who approached the stage was wearing a simple knit farmer's hood.

*"No now friend, there will be plenty of time for disguises later. Take off your hood and let the congregation see your face, and tell us your name!"* The preacher grinned, and the farmer did as he was bid, and the preacher began to extract an oath of fealty from the farmer before having him drink from a cup that'd been filled with some sort of strange purple liquid, which sat in a bowl on a table next to the preacher.

*"I...pledge my life...to the Dark and Laughing Gods!"* The farmer exclaimed.

Oracle realized, she may have a bit of a problem.


*Spoiler: Uptown - Hell's Kitchen Slums*
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As night fell over Gotham once again, chaos ensued. The uneasy detante that had existed between the city's criminals and nobles and justicars and military forces had finally spilled over into outright bloodshed. Any smaller Justicar posts were abandoned, and the main factions acted as if in a state of constant siege. Some outposts fell anyway, though for their part, the Justicars, House Blackgate Troops and Imperial Legion forces made their own effort to root out and destroy hostile groups, in the streets, where they found them. Fires raged on all three large islands, and blood began to flow in the streets. In the Narrows, House Kyle rogues and Narrows Rogues brutes ambushed one another, and Kyles and Thieves went after each other in Midtown. Downtown, Cobblepotts sparred with and attacked the forces of law where they were weak, but several black market hideouts and guild halls were crushed under the feet of the now activated Blackgates. The island was split, somewhat, between the fortified manors on Cobble Hill and the lower neighborhoods around Blackgate Fortress.

House Dent men and Thieves Guilders clashed with the Justicars in Midtown, and Uptown further still were battles between noble loyalists, the House Sionis forces, and newly aggravated Tetch enforcers. 

Into this maelstrom, the Black Carriage rode. Bruce's heavily armored, triple-axled war wagon was truly a sight to behold. Operated inside by an arcane magical device of Sir Pennyworth and Lord Fox's invention, the wagon was pulled by a team of coursers made of the black magic shadowstuff of illusion magic. They weren't real, but from the realm of shadow they were real enough to pull the Carriage at incredible speed. The carriage was mostly black mithril metal -- clearly Lord Wayne's favorite -- and was therefore heavily armored while still not so desperately heavy that it was unwieldy. Bruce had showed Damien how to operate it; that being said, he wasn't particularly comfortable, and so most of what he'd managed was locking in their destination and hoping the shadowy steeds brought them there. Kate observed their surroundings from a hatch in the top, her long black cloak billowing out behind her.

The bridge leading off of Wayne Island had two levels -- the main, top level and a second, secret stone passage beneath it. They burst out of the waterfall falling over that part of the bridge and barreled down the hidden corridor, across the length of the river and into Midtown itself. The random danger of the Gotham nighttime that had once embraced the city had become more omni-present, but still the party was able to avoid the worst of the areas of fighting just by the sounds and the lights they emitted. When scattered roving bands of thugs _did_ see the Black Carriage coming, they mostly scattered.

First, Damien and Kate visited Justicar's Keep. It was barred off, but from the highest tower, a _cauldron of dancing lights_ flared into the night sky, projecting the white Moon of Gotham sigil, with the old House Wayne direbat sigil inside of it. The Justicars saw the Carriage coming, and knew the Lord Marshall would want it to pass. 

But when the Carriage pulled up to the interior area of the keep, the Dark Knight did not emerge -- Scion and Batwoman did instead, and they ascended the keep without a word to any of the stunned faces therein, walking straight to Lord Gordon's offices.

Kate told Gordon what they'd learned from the Medusa -- he expressed his gratitude, then paid them back in kind. 

*"Somewhere, somehow,"* he said, *"Inside Falcone's beer hall, there's a door marked with the Thieves Guild icon -- the skull key."* Damien and Kate both nodded. *"We know this thanks to interrogations we've managed to conduct against some of the Guilders who've been caught up in the past week's violence. Honestly, we have you to thank for this. I have no idea where this door is -- we never found it when we ransacked the beer hall -- but if you need to corner Falcone, that's what you need to find. Be careful though; the Thieves Guildhall will be one of the most dangerous places in Gotham. It's where their best and brightest practice their craft. You can get to Falcone, but it won't be easy."*

*"That won't be a problem."* Damien said, his hubris unmatched to the moment. Still, it didn't really matter if he was right or not -- Kate and Damien were going to visit Falcone, win, lose or die.

The Carriage took them next across the island and into Uptown, where they found the Hell's Kitchen Slums. After the Narrows, Hell's Kitchen was one of the worst areas of the city; it had once been one of the most beautiful and affluent neighborhoods in Gotham, but when it fell into decay, it's crumbling tall buildings became a warren of depravity. It was, however, relatively stable compared to some of the street battles that had erupted throughout Gotham; this was where the Thieves' power was strongest, and their grip tightest. As they rode through the side streets, they began to notice street corners not just guarded by regular-old thieves guild street toughs, but the Guild's elite. Thieves dressed in suits of dark leather masterwork armor, hoods drawn over their heads, sharp enchanted blades at their sides. These were the most dangerous Rogues in Falcone's employ, and their presence on the streets was a statement.

The Carriage tucked itself away in a dark side alley, and they pulled down dark tarps along it's side, dismissing the shadow coursers, camouflaging it into the night -- just another pile of junk. The rounded the building, and across the street was Falcone's Beer Hall -- The Jinx. 

The Jinx had gone on as if none of the city's troubles were happening, as though Gotham wasn't slowly killing itself. It was packed with patrons, and plenty of people milled about outside it's well lit facade. Inside, it sounded loud and rauous. The building was huge, at least 3-4 stories tall, with incredibly tall windows windup up it's face towards the roof.

*"Alright, do we go in quiet, or do we go in loud?"*

----------


## JbeJ275

This was bad, Lunatics meant she couldnt make any appeal to rationality here, the sheer number of bodies here would doom her if things came to a fight and if these were the bars killers retreat wasnt really an option either. Instead her hand extended into her component ouch, now resolving that the exchange would have to stand one day more to prevent a disaster here.

This, with one arm movement and a quiet word she dropped closer to the floor and cloaked herself in the deeper mist of _Greater Invisibility_, she then sent Juluis up into the rafters of the tent and cast _Benign Transposition_, before calling the still invisible bay back to her. Then she wove a spell of _Extended Arcane Sight_ over her eyes, and examined the leader of this cult, attempting to discern what powers he held and what source he drew them from.

*Spoiler: Rules*
Show


When arcane sight is active..
If you concentrate on a specific creature within 120 feet of you as a standard action, you can determine whether it has any spellcasting or spell-like abilities, whether these are arcane or divine (spell-like abilities register as arcane), and the strength of the most powerful spell or spell-like ability the creature currently has available for use.



Finally, she drew the scroll of _Major Image_ getting ready to  cast it and follow it up with an Evards Black tentacles. Something that would show these people what a ritual to summon the gods going wrong might look like, and scatter them from here.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island -- Carnival Grounds*
Show

Having handily relocated, Oracle cast her new sensor over the elf below. As though she needed more of a demonstration that the loony cult ceremony below was a farce, something stood out to her almost immediately -- the cult leader did possess mystical power, but it was arcane, not divine. And though he was also clearly a few cards short of a deck, insofar as his sanity was concerned, he also, quite critically, was _not_ obviously awash with black magic. He didn't seem to be completely devoid of it either, but Oracle's extensive knowledge of arcane minutiae made her almost completely certain -- this charlatan was no sorcerer or witch or warlock -- he was a professional wizard.

_What a grift..._ she thought to herself, disgusted.


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It's worth taking a moment to just appreciate how unbelievably powerful diviners are, lol. Like, it's rarely the first choice you see people pick when making a build, but look at all the crazy stuff Barbara can do! lol. Being able to find anything, read anyone's thoughts...lightning bolts are for chumps!

Anyway, have fun Jbe, this should be interesting.  :Small Wink: 

Oh, almost forgot. His strongest magic is level 7.

----------


## JbeJ275

This hidden away, Barbara began to invisibly cast two more spells. Intoning carefully to speak when the roar of the crowd was loudest.

Below, perhaps ten feet off the ground a shimmering portal opened in the empty air. Smoke the colour of polished silver  began to pour from the rift until it solidified into a white mask, devoid of any features. 

*So, you wish for the company of dark gods then? Yet you lay at the feet of a mere wizard? What an odd choice? Come now spellseller, embrace the gods your lying tongue claims to serve!"*

Once the mask has finished speaking it slams its immense oily black tongue into the ground below, and the same organ then splits into many ends, each reaching out to the members in the crowd below and holding them up high, apart from one which reached for the leader in this crowd and began to squeeze.

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Grapple Check of (1d20+17)[*29*] against the cult leader 

I can make more depending on how many other cultists are nearby.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate thinks about this.  there us my first inclination, to go in swinging.   But... there is another way.  I recently learned telepathy.   You Sneak in, then if things good very good or very bad, you call and I'll warp in to help.  I have about 500 feet of range to Teleport

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Tent*
Show

The preacher put up a good fight but couldn't quite shake Barbara's magically summoned tentacles, though he laughed as he was picked up, not seeming nearly as troubled as he ought to be for suddenly finding himself in such a predicament. The other cult members and thugs who were on the stage scattered, the tentacles lashing out at some of them at the same time. After expressing his bemusement, the preacher let out a short guttural chant, and a swirling arcane door opened up nearby him, swallowing him hold for a moment and transporting him elsewhere.

For a moment, Barbara cursed under her breath -- where had he gone? -- but she noticed him appear a moment later, hundreds of feet from the stage, he'd reappeared from his door. He was now hundreds of feet from Oracle, standing on some of the bleachers behind the crowd, many of whom were now scattering and screaming.

*"My friends!"* he called. *"Do not fear the wrath of the gods! See how they love us, even now, wrapping us in their embrace!"* As he spoke, one of the tentacles clutched hard the man he'd just "baptized", cracking his ribs and squeezing the life out of him.

The preacher looked up to the scaffolds.

*"Dear, I fear a heretic has come to disrupt our proceedings. He may have angered the gods! Let's root him out shall we?"*

Up in the rafters, closer to where Oracle was, but almost out of sight from her new vantage, the woman in the enchanted leather armor seemed to hop up giddily from her perch, drawing something out of a pouch at her belt.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Make three more grapple checks. You got a surprise round off, roll for initiative and we'll see how this shakes out!



*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx*
Show

Kate took up position nearby the Jinx, under the shadow of a nearby alleyway, her glamoured dark armor blending in handily with the shadows. Her psionic telepathy radiating outward, listening for Damien.

Damien had ducked into the shadows after she laid out her plan, and made his way across the rooftops nearby until he reached the roof of the Jinx, and started looking for a way inside.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Let's make search, spot, and listen checks here. Abdiel, lay out how you want to try to ingress and search the premises. Once you enter or leave the rooftop, you'll need to make a hide/move silently check as appropriate for the situation.

----------


## MrAbdiel

After brief tactical conference with the Dame Kane, Damien drew in a tight breath and began his approach.  This, elementally, is the task for which he was trained.  The taking of lives, the combat skill, the leadership of men and women - all of these things are important, and seeded in him at varying rates of growth.  But the _way of shadow_ is the foundation upon which all those nascent virtues stood; and he takes to it like a child born and raised to it... for that, after all, is what he is.

He skips from rooftop to rooftop like a wisp of smoke; sailing and springing, dashing forward with a forward grade to his lead so much that he seems to fall across the face of the ground as much as he runs up the walls.  Once upon the roof of the Jinx, the easies part of the infiltration is complete.  But a man like Falcone does not lair in a place with only simple protections; and with a suspicious eye to the raindappled shingles, he decides not to simply pry his way in the rough way.  Not only was it inelegant, he knows if it were _his_ base of operations, he would keep something dangerous in the attic space for just this reason.

Instead, he begins to scour the building from over the lip of gutters, looking for windows lit by lantern light, and those left dark.

*Spoiler: Go Ninja, Go Ninja, Go.*
Show

Damien's a sneakin'.  He'll hang down from the edge of the roof enough to discreetly peek into the windows of lit rooms on the upper floor, just for recon.  But if he finds a nice couple of rooms adjacent to one another that are unlit, he'll pick a middle one and check it - looking for the normal traps and locks arrangement, from a room far enough out of the way folks are unlikely to hear his ingress and to give him plenty of fallback space and careful approach.

*Search* - (1d20+7)[*21*] (I might just have to bite the bullet and thump way more points into search soon). EDIT: Hey, pretty good!

*Spot* - (1d20+3)[*4*] (Just in case I roll super well) EDIT: Trash, but kind of expected!

*Listen* - (1d20+18)[*37*] (But _Listen_ is Damien's preferred sense, so ears don't fail me now. EDIT: That's m'boy.


And if they're relevent for sneaking and peaking...

*Hide* - (1d20+20)[*25*] EDIT: Bad, but investment may save my butt.
*MoveSilently* - (1d20+22)[*28*] EDIT: Ditto!

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island -- The Carnival Tent*
Show

More black tentacles grabbed more hapless cultists from the stage; a couple of the peasant cultists, along with one of the thugs. The peasants screamed and struggles, but could not escape the crushing tentacles. The thug tossed and flailed, clearly much stronger than either of the lesser cultists, but he too was stuck. Though many of the lower cultists looked panicked enough to flee, the ex-carnival looking thugs all began drawing weapons and some -- alarmingly -- began chanting or singing. That seemed to keep the peasant followers in line, plus the Preacher's rapid escape from the terrifying maw upstage gave them pause. Oracle was sure she'd done damage to their cause tonight in one fell swoop, she just couldn't tell how much. The lesser mob might be torn away from this madman, but the armed brutes clearly idolized him.

The woman that the preacher had called out to finished fishing out the item from her belt -- a finely polished looking gemstone. She held it up to one eye, squinting the other, and panned it around the circus tent, first peering at the mob below, then eventually searching the bleachers, then the scaffolds. Eventually, when she was looking straight at Barbara, through the stone, she stopped, and her lips curled up into a fiendish smile.

*"I fooooooouuuuuund her!"* she called out, in a sing-songy cackle. She lept off of the scaffold that she was on, grabbing a dangling rope and swinging effortlessly around the divide between them, landing and rolling onto a platform less than fifty feet from where Oracle was perched, and only one level down. Strapped to her back, Oracle saw, was a massive two handed darkwood mallet, which she could see radiated a magical aura.

Below, some of the thugs moved to bar the exit, while others began maneuvering around the now-lethal stage, looking for a way up into the rafters.


*Spoiler: Uptown -- The Jinx*
Show

From the edge of the roof, Damien was able to find multiple large-ish windows near the top story of the old, ornate building, one of which was an extended bay window in it's center. Several of them were lit; even up on the roof, he could hear the sound of partying coming from the main hall down below, but he also didn't struggle to badly to hear the conversations behind the lit windows. More than a couple of them involved thugs Damien could only assume were thieves guilders enjoying the company of their girlfriends or courtesans, whichever the latter were.

In one window, a pair of guilders were sitting at a table with a single candle lit, speaking only in muttered tones, a bottle of whisky and a pair of cups between them. 

*"They're ripping this place apart. Barely any good business to be made."*

*"You're too pessimistic. They're leaving themselves open. Plenty of new opportunities for breaching and robbing, if you know where to look. That's our way now."*

*"I dunno about that. Word is the Dark Knight returned -- they're saying he was at Hill Hall."*

*"Pffft. His days are numbered. The Beast will get him soon. Mark me -- we'll be working for Sionis or Dent or Cobblepott before too long."*

*"Heh. Not if Velnire's got anything to say about it. Any of these idiots starts to squeeze us, he'll have Padfoot pay em a visit."*

Damien got annoyed and moved away from the window, there wasn't too much else interesting they were saying. However, He noticed that there were a fair number of darkened windows, including the bay window and the ones near it. Damien could see that each one of the exterior windows -- including the lit ones -- were fairly strongly secured. Each was locked twice -- from the inside of the window. That wasn't unbeatable, but there were _alarm_ spells clearly inscribed around the frames. That was a new issue. On top of that, each window was secured to a trap panel -- whatever kind of nasty surprise the traps included were tucked into the underside of the roof. Damien could see that the traps _could_ be disarmed -- from the inside.

----------


## JbeJ275

At the madwoman announcing her success in finding Barbara she sprung backwards, putting space between her and the insane zealot. A mental command sent Juluis flying up to the top of the tent, to escape through the flaps there, while she focused on retreating and drawing her trusty wand of fireballs and unleashing it at the woman chasing her. 

While she very much made sure to include the woman in the area, her true target was the beam beneath her for, hoping to send her spilling to the ground or at least unable to give chase directly and unfocused on the stone she held.

*Spoiler: Rolls* 
Show


Balance to move at speed through scaffolding: (1d20+11)[*15*] 

Harlequin must make a reflex save or take (8d6)[*33*] damage as will the beam beneath her.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Pressing back on the mental bond established by the Knight of the Bat, Damien 'calls' Kate:

_["I'm on the roof on the eastern face of the building.  Plenty of dark windows, all trapped and alarmed.  You should be able to make your way around without approaching to spot range - I'll meet you by the corner of the black granite building north east of where we started; that should give you a straight shot of sight, if you can warp us in.  Then I'll sneak on to find our target.  His goons are gossiping about how weak his position is; I think we're in a strong position to bargain."]_

With that, he hustles to the rendezvous.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island -- Carnival Tent*
Show

Oracle very nearly fell out of the scaffolds a couple of times as she scrambled back from her attacker's position, but the gambit worked. She managed to get up to another section, and spun around, pointing the dragon-mouthed wand directly below the woman's position. For a moment, there was recognition, and the woman's mad eyes widened in what looked like genuine fear. Oracle didn't hesitate at all; she uttered the ancient, arcane draconic phrase attached to the wand, and a fireball exploded out from it's mouth, bursting into a violent explosion direction beneath the attacker's feet.

She crouched low as the attack came in, jumping and flipping backwards, but it wasn't enough; a good bit of the fire hit her anyway, and the scaffolding below her (along with quite a lot of the adjacent, very wooden structure) disintegrated.

The effects were calamitous. The fireball set off a chain reaction that sent a huge portion of the scaffolds crashing towards the crowd below. Oracle's attacker had avoided the worst of the blast, but she flipped backwards onto...nothing. She let out a helpless scream as she fell towards the ground, and Oracle lost sight of her in the falling timbers. 

The cascading structural failure, unfortunately, hit _Oracle's_ section as well, and she suddenly found the platform beneath her boots falling away.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Reflex save to try to leap and grab something more solid. Alternatively if you wanted to perform some kind of skill trick you could try a balance or jump check.



*Spoiler: Uptown - - The Jinx*
Show

Kate maneuvered to the rendezvous point and quickly managed to teleport both of them inside the room. Once inside, Damien disabled the trap behind the window, and managed to pick (with only moderate difficulty) the locks after wedging open a loose window pane. The whole thing was slow going, but worth it; they had an egress. The alarm would go off if they exited through mundane means, but hopefully by then they'd be on their way to safety.

Kate posted up inside the darkened room. It was more or less like a study, with a desk and some scroll cases along the walls, a deep leather chair and a long couch not completely unsuitable for sleeping on. Damien quietly, carefully worked the door open without a creak while Kate remained inside, and he found himself in the hallway outside.

The layout up here was...strange. In some ways, it reminded him of a high class, upscale inn, the kind where nobles might have reclined and relaxed after a long day of doing nothing downstairs, but it was old and shabby, the carpets and tapestries worn. It was incredibly dark upstairs -- almost none of the candle sconces in the walls were lit, save a couple that gave off only dim halos of light, casting even longer shadows for him to conceal himself in. Of the few thieves who were upstairs, they must have moved around mostly by memory, or via their own candlelight. But no one was outside their rooms now -- for a moment, he had the floor. He could still hear the sound of a raucous party going on down below, as if the city wasn't actively eating itself alive all around them.

Still...something seemed a bit...off. About the whole place. He tried to place his finger on it, not quite sure what it was he was noticing. As he meandered his way past the offices and bedrooms upstairs, he realized that the place also sort of reminded him of a clerk's office, the kind that a trade guild might have maintained at their headquarters. Perhaps instead of as an inn or thieves guild apartments, this place had once been intended as a kind of headquarters for a legitimate business interest. There were desks aplenty, and not all of the rooms were conditioned for sleeping. The whole place seemed half finished, just...sort of...off.

He paced from one corner of the top story to another; the building was quite large, and this area seemed to take up most of the second floor. Towards the south were stairways that would lead down to the great beer hall below. As Damien made his way back the other direction, he continued to listen, hard as he could, trying to sense some kind of disturbance.

He reached the north-westernmost wall, which was decorated with a large, floor-to-ceiling mirror braced by a pair of candelabras. Suddenly, as he stood their, staring at his near-black shadowy outline in the mirror, it hit him. He couldn't be _quite sure,_ but he was _almost_ certain he knew something had changed. He paced his way south again, towards the stairs, then back north again towards the mirror, silent the entire time. Always listening. When he reached the mirror, he was _sure_ of it. 

The sounds of partying below got _louder_ as he moved north, _away_ from the staircases, rather than getting quieter. 

_What in the hells..._ he wondered to himself, baffled.

His mind drifted back to Lord Marshall Gordon, and the stories about the Justicar sweeps of the Jinx.

*Somewhere, somehow, inside Falcone's beer hall, there's a door marked with the Thieves Guild icon -- the skull key...I have no idea where this door is -- we never found it when we ransacked the beer hall -- but if you need to corner Falcone, that's what you need to find. Be careful though; the Thieves Guildhall will be one of the most dangerous places in Gotham.*

Damien thought for a bit about what he knew. From the outside, the Jinx was clearly more or less a rectangular building -- massive, but not especially complicated in its design, at least not obviously. The Justicars had swept it multiple times, but found nothing. The obvious answer should have been beneath the building, right? But then, if it was beneath the building, it seemed impossible that the Justicars couldn't have eventually found their way inside. The Hideout had to be somewhere they wouldn't have thought to look.

Damien looked around some more, and realized something else -- the bay window he'd seen from the outside was missing. He counted the doors -- remembering which ones Kate was behind and which were occupied by thieves, and their friends...or their dates. There weren't enough doors to match the windows. Looking around himself, he began to feel more sure of it. The upstairs for the hall -- it was too small. The roof of the building had stretched much further north. Something else was on the other side of the floor, somewhere. It _had_ to be.

But...even that still didn't make sense. If the Justicars had come up here, wouldn't they have known that they were missing half of the floor? Unless....somehow....was it possible? Unless the ceiling of the beer hall had been designed to conceal the building's dimensions. 

It was too dark, and he wasn't having any luck finding the door. But he felt like it was close. Maybe, just _maybe,_ if he could find that there was a hidden room up here, he'd find the entrance.

_Okay Dame, I think I'm close, but we've got a problem._

_What is it?_

_I think I can find the hideout, but I need to narrow my search. I...I need you to get down to the beer hall below, and get a look at the ceiling..._

It was, needless to say, a dicey proposition. Damien was not at all sure his companion would take him up on it.

_You're incredible, you know that?_

Kate thought back.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, so, you don't _actually_ have to do what I just suggested, you can try to find the hideout another way. I was just trying to lay some breadcrumbs so as not to slow the action. If Kate demurs, then Damien can try to come up with a plan b, and hopefully I've planted enough clues to help. Or maybe not! You let me know. In the mean time, either of you are up!

----------


## JbeJ275

As the wave of collapsing scaffolding swept towards her Barbara took the half second before it reached her to angle her descent. Aiming for the very same patch of black tentacles she had conjured earlier, hopeful that if she fell within their reach theyd be able to aid in catching her before she hit the ground. 

*Spoiler: Roll*
Show

Tumble: (1d20+11)[*31*]

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Tent*
Show

Oracle leapt off of the platform as it fell away, careening down in a controlled fall towards the illusion and the writhing tentacles 30 feet below her. The Gambit worked, for the most part. She was able to roll and break her fall as she came down, carefully using some intervening obstacles to help slow her momentum and absorb most of the impact. From there, though, she knew she probably wasn't out of the woods just yet.

An ominous sound of chanting came from across the tent, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. There was a burst of arcane abjuration, and for a moment Oracle had a strange sensation like she felt the air being sucked out of the room. Oracle's ring suddenly flashed and a burst of heat ran through her finger, and the ring of counterspells she'd been wearing activated, rejecting the prophet's _dispel magic_ effort. Oracle felt a wave of relief wash over her, realizing after assessing the arcana burst and the quality of the spell that she probably would have been left completely exposed on the stage.

_Never thought i'd think this...but thanks Lord Wayne._

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Your turn!  :Small Big Grin:

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien huffs, pressing one hand against the northmost wall behind which he is sure there is _more_.

["It might be as simple as having another wing of the floor accessible by a different staircase... but the design of this floor seems intentionally disorienting.  I can't find an access mechanism here.  If we go downstairs, we will be given away.  First, let me... try something."]

He took a moment to map the floor he'd covered in his head again, choosing a point on the floor that seemed fairly central to the hidden space, and flattened his hands to the wall.

Then he slowed his breath, and closed his eyes.

_"I am the master of my blood..."_

He felt the warmth, and the dissociation again; the same as when he had over the past nights injected some portion of the nascent phase spider's venom.  Then he slipped out of sight... and indeed, out of _space_, and ghosted clear through the wall of Falcone's labyrinth to whatever lay beyond.

*Spoiler: OOC Actions!*
Show

Spending 1 Ki point (down to 7) to use Ghost Step which, as of this level, I can use to go _Ethereal_, then going through the wall into the mystery zone.  Strictly speaking once I'm through the wall I'll be able to see what's on the other side and then Damien will choose a hiding spot as necessary to return to the plane.

Ninja.

----------


## JbeJ275

_You know, so much time wasted on learning ettiquete and I never learned the appropriate thank you message for a magical gift that saved my life in arcane combat with a madman. Perhas a fruit basket would be appropriate._

As this grim thought raced through her mind Barbara had to come to terms with the fact that she was outgunned here, fights between mages were always a toss up, but outnumbered and outgunned against a mage who could just brute force dispel anything she threw was a good time to cut and run, content in disrupting their operations for a day at least.

Thus she ran to the outside of the tent, before undergoing a _Benign Transposition_  in the seconds before the invisibility faded, with Juluis using those last seconds to extract himself back through the top of the tent again.

Inside, the booming mask continued to speak. 

"So rude of you champion, trying to send me away like that. I suppose a spellseller has no reason to take my embrace. Still, as for the rest of you, perhaps I'll see one of you tonight.

With that she let the major illusion flash into bright crimson light for the next ten seconds, hoping to dazzle and distract with it while she focused on running to cover, hoping to make it into hiding before the last few seconds of her invisibility spell passed.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx*
Show

Damien passed straight through the mirror and...popped into a open, chaotic room on the other side. Lots of expensive looking rugs were tossed about the room, and tables and stacks of crates were filled up with what Damien could only surmise was ill-gotten loot. Behind him, he saw the outline of a false door...he hadn't figured out the mirror itself, but the answer to the Thieves Guild entrance had been under his nose the whole time. 

The room looked like a sort of a common area; there were some chairs, lit candles, empty or half empty bottles of booze, even some crumb covered plates. But it was also filled with tons of valuable contraband. A door was partially ajar at the other end of the room, leading into the rest of the hideout. Damien remembered his grandfather's lair, from when he was a few years younger -- it'd been riddled with surprises to punish those initiates who didn't take their training seriously. He had to be careful, in here.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Thieves Guild Hall unlocked! Best of luck to you...



*Spoiler: South Channel Island - The Carnival Grounds*
Show

All things considered, Oracle's operation had gone remarkably well. She'd left the tent and it's cultish occupants in complete disarray, and managed to depart relatively unscathed. She couldn't tell for sure whether she'd killed the woman pursuing her or any of the thugs on the ground, but they'd all learned a tough lesson about starting trouble in her city -- they would _not_ be going unopposed.

In best case terms, Oracle might have hoped that the cult turned on their leader, or at least disbanded. Something about the interaction left her unsure about that outcome, but she'd definitely set them back. The preacher would have to do something truly dramatic in order to reign in his terrified flock now. In the meantime, she'd assessed their strengths and learned a bit more about their plans, and that was something. A little bit of purchased time, a little more planning, and these brutes could be stopped. Hopefully.

But now she was navigating her way out of the haunted Carnival Grounds, looking to make sure she got away clean and avoided running into any more trouble. Torchlight up ahead of her warned her of two passers by, who she might have run into if she kept moving in that direction. She looked around, assessing ways to circumnavigate the patrol, and weighed her options. She needed to clear the Carnival Grounds, and get back to her original mission. She just needed to pick between brute force, or subterfuge.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Ten on a listen reveals two voices talking to each other. At least one is holding a torch, just up ahead. If you can clear this pat you're home free off the island. Then you can pursue your next objective.

----------


## JbeJ275

Another swift spell restored _Invisibility_ to Barbara and Julius, though this lesser version wouldnt hold up to combat. Following that she made a path around the two, listening to what they were saying as she went but focused first and foremost on getting clear.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: South Channel Island - Carnival Grounds*
Show

Oracle stalked behind the two thugs. They were both wearing the same kind of worn, tattered former-circus-costume outfits that the cult's other thugs had on. She couldn't tell if the getups were because they were genuinely performers or because they were putting on a show to imitate the Fools' Guild, but she could sense the radiating stink of arcana coming off of them.

*"What do you think is going on?"* the larger of the two, a half-orc, asked. 

*"Dunno. You know the Boss. He's putting on a show for the new recruits. Maybe he decided to do something extra insane, just to drum up some excitement."*

*"He's gonna get us killed if we're not careful."*

The second man, who was holding the torch and had a sort of strange horned hood as part of his costume, shook his head and laughed.

*"You're off mate. You have no idea what he's capable of. When he finally completes his ritual this whole city'll be at our knees, and I'll be burning down the Mage's College myself."*

*"You sure? Until the Harlequin showed up we weren't exactly in big bus--"*

*"Mate, you don't get it. Everything's different now! Soon, the Dark Knight will be gone, if he's not already! The Bat will consume the High Lords and the Boss will control the Bat, and we'll all be kings!"*

*"Maybe..."* the big half orc grumbled. *"Still, we should get back."*

*"We're almost there."*

They turned towards the great tent -- even from this distance, in the dark, Oracle could see that people were now swarming around it. She'd kicked the beehive something fierce -- she could only hope the bees were consumed enough to eat each other. Either way, she had her way out -- the patrol had passed her point of egress, and the path through the woods back to the bridge was now open.

----------


## MrAbdiel

["I'm in."]

Damien returned to a world of weight and color, feet alighting silently on the floor.

["It's just behind the mirror if you need to bust in at some point - though the mirror itself may be trapped or warded.  Looks like an antechamber testing ground for novice rogues."]

The door beyond was partly open - an invitation to simple solutions, he assumed.  Perhaps the ground beneath one or both of the rugs ahead would drop into a pit, if one put their eyes to the destination and not the path.  Instead, he took a moment to shift sideways along the wall, peering over the contraband containers for anything worth confiscating - and anything _too_ tempting to be anything but a trap.

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Oh boy, I guess Listen's great but doesn't help you with things that don't move or make noise!  But time to give the contraband pile a cursory search before proceeding.  (1d20+7)[*16*].  I'll take ten on a cursory glance for traps on the way there, too, just in case.

----------


## Molan

> ["I'm in."]
> 
> Damien returned to a world of weight and color, feet alighting silently on the floor.
> 
> ["It's just behind the mirror if you need to bust in at some point - though the mirror itself may be trapped or warded.  Looks like an antechamber testing ground for novice rogues."]
> 
> The door beyond was partly open - an invitation to simple solutions, he assumed.  Perhaps the ground beneath one or both of the rugs ahead would drop into a pit, if one put their eyes to the destination and not the path.  Instead, he took a moment to shift sideways along the wall, peering over the contraband containers for anything worth confiscating - and anything _too_ tempting to be anything but a trap.
> 
> *Spoiler: OOC:*
> ...


*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

Damien managed to navigate along the edge of the wall nimbly enough, but his search was in vain -- he'd need to spend more time prying through the boxes to see anything of value, and wasn't able to detect any traps.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien's curiosity was never his downfall - he'd check these crates on his way out, if there was time.  But he cast a glance across the room as he turned his attention back to the task at hand.  Falcone was the target - and through him, Velnire; and through _him_, the weakening of the Thieves in Midtown and the acquisition of a tool to make their crusade more possible.  Plus, if they finished up here quickly, they could still speak with the Bards, and maybe even catch the Chraal.  He'd been warned about this place, and he took the warning seriously - no need to provoke the room in the places traps were most likely loaded, if anywhere.  Under rugs, on the thresholds of doors, in otherwise juicy boxes of loot.  So he took out his trusty Rod, set it to its zipline function in case he would need it; snooped up to the edge of the rug infront of the ajar door on the other side of the room... then launched himself nimbly over fifteen feet of carpet to dangle one handed, chimplike, from the frame of the door, and then peer through into the next room without touching the ground.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves' Guild Hall*
Show

Hanging from the doorway, Damien saw it lead down a hallway; the door at the other end of the suspiciously featureless hall was _also_ ajar, mostly open in fact. The room beyond that was dimly lit, but there were at least a few candles glowing inside, and he could see a couple of other doors inside the next room.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Another suspiciously empty room - but without telling bloodstains, or grooved tracks in the dust to guess the ideal path, Damien is forced to assume the danger is one bypassed by those who know the way to walk through it.  If there's a danger at all, and it's not just psychological cruelty to the thieves.

He first tries his luck, dropping gently to the ground inside the corridor...

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Speed Climb requires that I begin and end my turn on a horizontal surface, so technically Damien drops down and, if the world doesn't end, hunkers there for a few seconds.


...then bounces up to the left hand wall, using his momentum and light grabs on sconces and fingerholds in the crown moulding to scamper sideways across the wall, finally ending balanced on the top of the door already swung partly into the room.

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Another end of turn, to satisfy the business of speed climb!


... before peeking into the next room from his new vantage!

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara bites her lip, but decides against interfering with these two individual goons. The previous expierience more so than anything else showing that it's best to always suspect you'll need a spell in reserve. Instead she quietly made her way back to the bridge to midtown, and from there went about tracking down the home of one Officer Bullock, GJD.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

The Thieves Guild was a notorious and dangerous organization, and their premier hideout in Gotham seemed to really live up to their reputation. And yet, it needed to be said, Damien was, in many respects, up to the challenge. Sure, he was young and still sometimes pig-headed, but he had been trained by the League of Shadows, and by the _Dark Knight_ himself. His skills were superb, and he handled himself with incredible agility.

Unfortunately, even he was not flawless. As he dropped down inside the hallway from the doorframe, several things happened at once -- he heard a loud *click*, and felt the distinct sensation of a pressure plate moving a mechanical device under his foot.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Thanks for clarifying! (evil devilish grin face). Make a reflex save.

Go ahead and make a new search check too; if you survive this, you can look for new traps lol. Given what just happened I'll also give you +2 circumstance on Spot and Search inside the lair.



*Spoiler: Uptown - Old Gotham - Outside Bullock's Apartment*
Show

Old Gotham lived up to it's name -- it was positively ancient, a wiring complex of ancient connecting towers, keeps, walls and great halls. Supposedly, once, an incredibly long time ago, this was the center of "Gothamite" civilization, though it was mostly occupied by Necromancers and later, by the conquering Wayne armies that had scoured them from the earth.

These days, it was sort of a grandiose, if decaying, historical district that allowed certain connected middle class members of Gotham's society to live _near_ and even slightly _in_ the Uptown highlife without actually qualifying for it. The Arcane Rail system up here included mostly smaller individual cars that ran along enchanted wires suspended from the island's many tall and baroque towers, and one of them quietly coasted overhead as Oracle scouted out her destination.

Bullock stayed in a large stone building; it had to be at least six stories tall, and, as best she could tell, had once served as some kind of library or grand barracks. It'd since been renovated and restored many times, and was now cut up into a honeycomb of apartments for tenants just like her quarry. Some late night drinkers tarried under faerie fire lanterns in a decaying garden out front, overshadowed by a couple of old hickory trees. There was one primary entrance, but the building was crisscrossed with gothic crossbeams and arches and gargoyles, and as it's purpose was never defensive in nature there were plenty of decent sized windows, especially on the third levels and up.

She had a choice; use magic or guile to walk in through the front door, past a bored looking pair of guards, or find a way to circumnavigate them and enter through one of the windows or -- maybe? -- the roof herself.

Bullock wouldn't be too hard to find. According to her previous investigation, he'd claimed his apartment on the sixth floor -- a really nice, big suite -- after an old, lonely rich widow had died in it and he rushed the cause of death investigation.

Real nice guy.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Your move. Declare how you want to enter -- if you think you can ingress without talking to anyone, you should be able to. Once we get you to his room you can lay out how you want the scene to go.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

The trap's mechanism opened fast, and the floor gave way. Fortunately, Damien was quick enough and familiar enough with this kind of trouble that he was able to leap away, jumping up to a handhold on the wall and then swinging from one spot to another down the hall, avoiding the floor, until he arrived in the next doorway as intended.

He'd only gotten a moment to see the mechanism at the bottom of the pit, but it looked like a simple rolling barrel covered in spikes, so that if he'd fallen in the pit he'd have been stabbed, then severely struggled to extricate himself.

Still, he'd made it. No reason to dwell on that embarrassing episode. A quick scan into the next room revealed no hiding interlocutors, which was good. But he still couldn't seem to detect any additional thieves guild booby traps, which he felt sure _had_ to be there. 

The next room over was strange looking. It was a nice enough space, but mostly empty. It was approximately 50 square feet, and filled with a strange array of different doors. Some were wooden, some metal. Some simple and grimy looking, some incredible ornate. ALL of them seemed suspicious, and all of them were very clearly fitted with locks of varying complexities. There were eight doors in total, not counting the doorway he was hanging in. For a moment, it almost kind of seemed like that's all they were -- doors to nowhere, a room for thieves to practice their art. But upon closer inspection Damien verified that more than a few of them were definitely connected to the wall, and might lead somewhere.

One of them had to lead _somewhere,_ right?

----------


## MrAbdiel

He grimaced at the pit, now that he had avoided it.  He had been sure the trap would be part of the floor, not the entire width of the corridor.  Less a test of memory, and more of constant effort.  How did Falcone traverse them?  He had not placed the man as particularly physically cunning - but then, perhaps that was a cultivated illusion.

Now with a room featuring the lockpicking array, he checks back in with Batwoman.

["Kane.  Beyond the first room is a corridor with a pit trap; I'm in a room beyond that, with an array of doors - probably a lockpicking course.  One or more of them has to lead somewhere."]

But without a trap becoming obvious, he needs somewhere to stand - and with no stronger instinct than to try the doors one at a time, his course, hazardous as it may be, is clear.  He drops down to the floor just inside the door - surely they wouldn't do the same thing twice in the same way - and then starts at the left, to work his way around.  Once he is confided he cannot -see- obvious traps, he chooses the first door on the left, toggles the handle at a distance with the help of the minor telekinetic property permitted by the Hand of the Mage, and if no trap is revealed but a lock is present, he will set to picking!

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Ah, the Baldur's Gate 2 Shadowtheives Guild Hall.  How I missed you.  You better have a Rogue Stone for me, in one of these.

20 to take ten attempting to disable devices, if I notice them; 25 to take ten picking locks.  I guess he'll work through until he fumbles onto a trap, or opens a door to somewhere, or gets outfoxed by a lock!

----------


## JbeJ275

Well outside of the Bullock's bachelour pad, Barbara rewove the illusion this time bending greater energues to her will to ensure she had the time to both get in and get out. With her _Extended Invisibility_ now in place she made her way through the front door, following the next occasion on which it opened and then slipped past the guards and towards her target.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

Damien reached out with _Hand of the Mage_ and jiggered the handle of the first door. It was locked firmly shut, but he was rewarded with a sudden *snap!* sound and a rush of magical energy. An immobile, vertical curtain of whirling blades shaped of pure force sprang into existence. Some of the sharp blades suddenly whizzed past him so close and so fast they nearly clipped the end of his nose. Fortunately, he was only just far enough away from the door to avoid the trap, but if he'd been closer, he'd have been blended.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Your move. You can try Knowledge: Arcana or Spellcraft to try to guess the blade barrier's duration, but these are not exactly your strong areas.



*Spoiler: Uptown - Old Gotham - Bullock's Apartment*
Show

Oracle managed to find her way through the apartments easily enough; invisible as she was she was able to simply avoid passers-by as she went, using her extended senses to eventually make her way to the top, where she found Bullock's apartment in a long stone hallway furnished by an ornate but ancient rug. His door was thick, heavy wood banded with Iron, and the lock appeared to have been installed sometime after the original door; it was quite ornate. Crucially, however, a cursory search revealed something else: the door handle was _alarmed_.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Back to you! Almost inside!



*Spoiler: Feathersnow*
Show

You are very patient and we all appreciate you, lol.

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara momentarily paused, she could likely disable the alarm as she had Tetch's security mesures, but while those were exterior runes that could easily be left unaximened for weeks at a time this one was in a prominent place, that would no doubt alert Bullock to someone's tampering if it didn't trigger upon his own return here. Thus she was forced to draw upon that careful blending of divine and arcane magic, expeding a _Divine Guidance_ to temporarily access the competence needed to leave the alarm disabled, but able to be reactivated when she left. 

*Spoiler: Rolls*
Show


Disable Device: [roll] 1d20+34[/roll]

DC should be 36

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien steps back onto his heel as the bladebarrier erupts.  A strange trap - without applying its teeth to the place directly infront of the door, it seems mostly intent on either killing spectators, warning learning rogues that they might be dead if the trap had wanted it, or specifically to whack midwit door-crackers toggling handles with ten foot poles.  But it was a _hell_ of a trap; and the blades, force as they are, would penetrate into the realm of smoke and shadow where the mastery of his blood could take him.

_This is a lot of work for a conversation. Falcone better be willing to help._

["Kane.  The traps in this door-nexus are... extremely dangerous.  I'm going to try circumventing them entirely."]

He trots around to the corner wall, with the blade barrier to his front and the wall to his left.  If he stewards his resources carefully, he might get... two or three doors scouted, before he had to make a choice.  From his bag of theives tools he takes the simplest tool of all - a twelve inch length of plain pine wooden doweling, and tucks it under his arm.  Then he produces a potion of clear, saline tasting tonic and throws it back - feeling his mind and muscles tightening as he draws on his blood's gained power again.

Fading into the smoke and shadow, he steps through the wall, and searches beyond the doors - hoping to avoid the traps entirely.

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Okay.  New plan.

But first - Damien's looking over these doors didn't reveal any of them matching THE DOOR I'm looking for, right? it's a variety of sample doors, but not THE DOOR Lord Gordon mentioned?

Presuming I'm not missing something that wildly obvious, he's the plan.  Prep by drinking a potion of expeditious retreat (caster level 1, so 1 minute duration).  That'll juice Damien's move speed up to 50ft, which he'll need to carefully use his Ki points here.  He has a piece of wood in his hand (I figured such an expendable thing was reasonable to have in a thieves toolkit).  Then, on a fresh turn...

Swift action: Go Ethereal.
Move action: move 50 ft, starting by going diagonally into the wall to his left to put him past the frame of the door he just triggered, and then forward.
Std Action: move another 10 feet to complete the search, then back up to 40ft to the most interesting revealed location.


 By my calculations, if we assume there are corridors behind all the doors, Damien can use about 60ft of his movement to ghost-move cutting narrowly on the 'inside' of those doors and explore/sight the two on the west side, and the two on the north.  And with 40ft of movement left, he has enough to cut directly back to whichever one he makes the split-second decision to manifest in and explore more thoroughly.

He's leading his movement with the dowel pointed forward.  The idea is that if that bladebarrier is operating on the far side of the door as well, it'll chew up the (ethereal) dowel instead of his face; and he'll stop and renegotiate his movement at that point in a more conservative way.

Down to 6/8 Ki!

----------


## Feathersnow

The Batwoman hides as the young scout risks himself with the traps.  Hypothetically, she could circumvent the whole mess with her psi powers, but that seemed like the sort of thing that could easily go wrong.  Better to rely on conventional methods. .

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

The first door Damien circumvented revealed a short hallway, then a large, dark room beyond. he didn't have much time to examine it but the room seemed much bigger than it ought to be...it was too, _deep._ The second door revealed a small chamber with a single heavy looking locked chest inside. The third room however had a nice, ornate looking door just inside a short hallway, and what looked like a decently well furnished chamber beyond it.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You're up!



*Spoiler: Uptown - Old Gotham - Bullock's Apartment*
Show

It was difficult to do under normal circumstances, but feeling the pressure of temporarily disarming the alarm spell on the door and beating the lock while wondering if her quarry -- or someone worse -- might come back and notice something amiss at any moment gave Oracle the slightest feeling of anxiety. She remembered her time in her own townhouse, working with Questor, and focused on the divine lore she'd garnered.

Focusing closely, she summoned divine power to her to expand her mind and steady her hand, and completed the mystical steps required to temporarily nullify the ward. It worked. Once the runes' auras dissipated from her mages' sight she got to work picking the lock. It was well made, but she was patient, and after a while of working it she managed to get it open, making her way inside Bullock's Apartment.

The interior was well furnished enough; clearly the building had a service staff -- or perhaps some ongoing ministerial enchantments -- that helped keep things clean; there was a stew slow cooking over a fire in the hearth, a moderately sized, well furnished and fully made bed, and the chamber pot had been emptied. Most interesting to Oracle were other details in the room -- specifically the single, large window overlooking the Old Gotham street below and the study area, complete with a messy pile of notes and dates and other letters. There was evidence here, that much was sure, but it was too much to decipher all at once. Though, if her plan worked and she was able to break up Bullock's network, this evidence could probably be quite useful to a patient, dedicated Bloodhound later on if she chose to press charges.

As she began to prepare her trap, she noticed a single other feature of the room -- next to the hearth, the wall looked...off. After a quick search she was able to find a candelabra that acted as a leaver, and when she pulled it the wall moved to the side, revealing itself to be a concealed door, hiding a closet within. It was dark inside, and she had to produce her own light, but she was able to determine the contents easily enough.

Weapons. Broadswords, Greatswords, crossbows, knives, maces and hammers. A veritable trove of killing hardware.

*"Well, not sure what I expected, but this about checks out."* she smiled to herself.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You're up!

----------


## MrAbdiel

The first room looked like it might be another mirror-trick.  The second didn't go anywhere - though he was curious about the chest's content, he could come back for that another time.  But the third, with the vague ethereal glimmers of a well furnished room beyond a small corridor, most probably fit the bill.  Falcone was a man of culture - past the façade of tricks and mirrors, he would dwell in comfort.  Thus, he made the decision to manifest in the short corridor of the third door, halfway down the length of the room to the left side.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

Once inside the short hallway, Damien inched forward closely. The door was slightly ajar, and though he couldn't see much inside besides a simple, elegant table against one wall, some (likely stolen) wall art and some animal skin rugs, he could _hear_ plenty.

*"I don't know why we're waiting around, at this point. We've got the coin, let's just put out the contract."*

*"What, and start a bigger war? A public contract will..."*

*"It doesn't have to be public, Boss. We can just do a single contract. One assassin."*

*"Listen, you ingrates. For the last time, it's more complicated than that. We got the Kyles in Midtown, the False Face Uptown, the Dents running around with half the city looking for them, nobody can touch em. The bankers are starting to get antsy and if all that wasn't enough, now the Justicars and the Blackgates are out in force every siggin fuggin' night trying to round up anyone who might be a threat to the Black Tower. We need to pick our shots. We have Padfoot yes, plus a few other pretty decent assassins besides. But if we go single contract, then whoever we send is probably going to be indisposed for at LEAST a week, if not longer. These are big hits. If we post it up generally, then anyone who's not our friend might suddenly be gunning for us. We've got to move, but we've got to do it carefulyl."*

*"Well......there's always The Penguin."*

*"Whoa...mate..."*

*"Are you out of your fuggin' mind!? There is no way in all the Hells we are fuggin' around with that stunted little bastard. I don't care if he does own half the fuggin' city. Nevermind that crap he pulled back in the day, you wanna wind up like the Dark Market, taking orders from that squat?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

You're up.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damn. That's Falcone - but also Kysel Velnire, whom Damien hoped to convince Falcone to sell out!  He could hardly swagger into the room like that - even if they didn't jump him and get the lucky hits they needed to kill him right away, it wouldn't work with both in the room.  He flattened himself against the wall outside the door, and listened for a few moments longer before reaching out to Batwoman.

["Kane; I'm just outside Falcone's chamber.  He's meeting with his lieutenants, Velnire among them.  They're desperate, like we thought - but I can't pitch him selling out Velnire while he's standing right there.  I need a distraction - a big enough ruckus these guys clear out to help, and leave Falcone in his safe room where I can speak to him.  Maybe you want to... start knocking on doors, and throwing goons around?  These ones here are mid-bosses - heavy hitters - but you don't need to stick around and take them all out.  Just to mix it up long enough they leave Falcone unattended; then you can blink out of there.  I can escape through the wall, too.  Can you do it?"]

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Damien's hiding out of sight, but he's hoping that when the ruckus stars these LT's  will clear out.  So he's holding an action to Ghost Step, so he can fade from view when someone starts to come into this corridor; and probably step through the wall and hide in Falcone's office at the end of that action.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

Damien recognized Velnire's dour voice from The Exchange.

*"Cobblepott wants to rule Gotham. No fuggin' way in all the hells we let that happen. But his boys are tangling with the Justicars and the Imperials every night. He can't make any big moves until House James is out of the way. The only way he pries away the Legion or the Cops is if there's a succession crisis."*

*"Okay, so what do you want to do then?"* the second voice sounded defensive.

*"The bankers are powerful but they're a mess. That's to our advantage. They'll be at each others' throats soon, now that we know Roman Sionis is running the False Face. As far as we know, from the Boss' experience at the party, the Dents, the False Face, and the Bankers are all after the same thing."*

*"Yea, they want the bat. Dent was just dumb enough to get out ahead of the rest before they'd all killed each other."*

*"Get the bat, get the city. With that kind of power you could kill Lord James, Marshall Gordon, all the Blackgates, and anyone else that fugged with you, without batting an eye. What we need to do is make sure no one gets it. The longer they're fighting over that fuggin' book, the better it is for us. So we don't send out a general contract at all. We only need to solve for two things."*

Falcone finally spoke again.

*"Okay, and what's that?"*

*"First, we need to keep your buddy Lord James alive. The Cops are a mess, in no small part thanks to us. I'd rather deal with them any day of the week than the Bankers' army. Second, we do need to put out a contract, I think, but not on Dent or Sionis or Cobblepott."*

*"Who, then?"*

*"The only person...or, maybe now, people in this city that can throw a wrench in this whole thing. The one group that poses more of a threat to us than the Man Bat or the Law or the Bankers or anyone else."*

*"You're talking about the Dark Knight."* said Falcone.

*"Yea, kind of. But it's knights now, isn't it? There was a whole crew of adventurers at Hill Hall, you said so yourself. They gotta be working together. If the original Dark Knight is taking on squires and copycats, that's a problem. It's time to clear them off of the board."*

*"You don't think it's true, do you?"* said Second Voice.

*"What?"*

*"That the Dark Knight's actually Bruce Wayne?"*

*"Pfffft. That lazy [email protected]? No way. But I think whoever it is wants us to think that he's the Wayne's returned to Gotham. That's where all the direbat iconography comes from, I think. And if 'House Wayne' manages to do their adventurer thing and say -- defeat the bankers, or find this Guild Hall. Well, that's game over."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Chat chat pass!

----------


## Feathersnow

[On it.]

Kate warps up to the mirror door and smashes it!

I'm here to kick *** and take names, and I'm all out of names!! she shouts!

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves Guild Hall*
Show

The mirror shatters and falls away, revealing, behind it -- an ornate looking door, with a skull key icon behind it.

It was locked, but not nearly well  enough; this barrier relied on being concealed. A swift strike with the heavy poleaxe ripped through the door and Kate was inside the Guildhall. Lots of expensive looking rugs were tossed about the room, and tables and stacks of crates were filled up with what Kate could only surmise was ill-gotten loot. The room looked like a sort of a common area; there were some chairs, lit candles, empty or half empty bottles of booze, even some crumb covered plates. But it was also filled with tons of valuable contraband. A door was partially ajar at the other end of the room, leading into the rest of the hideout.

Kate's battle shout echoed down the hall, loud enough for Damien, still in the hallway near Falcone's office, behind one of the locked test doors, to hear her. And not just him.

*"Shut the fug up. What was that?"* said one of the voices inside.

This time, Damien heard a woman's voice. *"That,"* she said, *"Out in the hall! That loud bang and that woman's voice yelling."*

*"I heard the bang, but I didn't hear..."*

*"Quiet. It doesn't matter, I did."* Velnire growled. *"We've got company. Armand, Alberto, get the Boss to Safety. Allegra, Johnny, come with me."*

Things were moving quickly, Damien would have to think fast.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Roll for initiative!

You still have Surprise as no one as seen anyone else yet. Reference Roll20 for your map positions. Kate can't see where Damien is, currently.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien slips into the ethereal plane, as the goons get to moving.

["Three coming your way. One's Velnire - Raam's boss.  Be careful.  Traps everywhere."]

Once again mastering his blood, Damien slips through the wall as Velnire's crew head out; into the office with Falcone and the two remainers.  If he could separate those two from the boss, that would be ideal.  So he produced a little prop, to help his threat as he faded back into the world - the vial of black lotus poison taken from the Dark Marketeers in a scrape that seemed like months ago.  He tries to position himself in the room where he has a view, can hide, but that the goons have a chance to start off through the exit through which they intend to take the boss.

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Damien will follow them all sneaky-sneak if the two groups both head off immediately.  But presuming Velnire's crew head off to fight Batwoman and the two left behind with Falcone dawdle a little, so Damien isn't going to show himself to EVERYONE, he intends to speak to reveal himself before Falcone leaves the room.  Hide check: 30.  If you want me to roll it, it's (1d20+20)[*24*]!

----------


## JbeJ275

Taking a piece from Nebein's enchanted evidence kit, Barbara moved to scan in first the crooked cop's evidence network, then a full inventory of the weapon stash. After that, she spent some time comitting the apartment to memory, to ensure she'd be able to recreate it through her arcana later, and then finally she carefully deposited the body of one Jarvis Tetch into the weapons closet, and closed the closet up again, before moving to Bullock's bed and searching for a scrap of hair, nail or skin, something to boost the power of her targeted spells later.

This done, she made to exist the apartment before her invisbility faded, and headed towards the dock where captain Benson would be drawing in, hoping to tie off that particular loose end as well.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves' Guild Hall*
Show

Three incredibly unpleasant looking men turned to head towards the door, just as Damien was making himself unseen by a nearby table. For the briefest of moments, he almost thought the lead thief - Kysel Velnire - might have noticed him, as his eyes seemed to pass over Damien's position, but his gaze didn't linger, and they moved towards the exit.

Velnire was a fairly intimidating figure, despite having a somewhat unimposing stature. He was a half elf, with longish dirty blonde hair, and a thin but well trimmed beard. His slightly-pointed ears very nearly didn't show out from his mane, but Damien had seen him once before and knew enough to knew what he was looking at. Velnire wore a thin looking worn but well made segmented breastplate, over a similarly worn but well crafted surcoat of leather armor, and his shoulders and arms were covered in leather armor bracers and pauldrons. He was heavily kitted, for a rogue, moved with a grace and sureness that seemed to ensure that he would still be fairly stealthy, under the right conditions, if he needed to be. He wasn't particularly tall or broad, seemingly at least in part due to his elven heritage, but he carried himself like a practiced killer. There was a bloody looking club strapped to one hip, but an enchanted long sword on the other, paired with a particularly ugly looking knife strapped to one shoulder. He had a short sword strapped behind his back, at his waist, and Damien noticed several other knives with throwing handles secreted around his person.

Where Velnire struck Damien as a sort of fusion of two different worlds, "Johnny" was anything but. Thin, pale, and wiry, with a shock of black hair on his head and a malicious gleam in his eye, he wore a fantastic looking suit of black leather armor, the same kind of elite enchanted gear the Thieves who'd rescued Falcone at Hill Hall were wearing. He only had one visible weapon -- a silver hilted short sword at his hip, but he was if anything even more graceful and quiet seeming than Velnire. 

Allegra was dressed similarly to Johnny, but her armor was a paleish gray instead of black, and she had a pair of long knives, one at each hip. Her red hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and she had an almost manic expression on her face -- Damien could swear she licked her lips as the three of them left the room. On her back Damien noticed she had an enchanted Darkwood light crossbow strapped in place.

Near the bookshelf on the other side of the wall, was Falcone, not looking much differently than he had been at Hill Hall. Two men stood next to him, and seemed to be directing him _towards_ the book case.

"Alberto" was mostly dressed in noble finery, and didn't seem outwardly dangerous or intimidating at all. He had the -- seemingly standard issue -- knife strapped to his hip, but otherwise seemed unimpressive. 

Armand, like Alberto, was also human, and he was the oldest and most grizzled looking of the bunch. He wore a suit of ugly, well crafted brigantine, was heavily armed with multiple blades and a crossbow, and his face bore multiple long scars and wrinkles, turning it into a leathery, angry mask. His hair was graying, but he was taller and stronger looking than the other two men, and seemed almost eager to encounter their intruder.

*"Let's get to the safe room,"* Armand insisted. *"We can always port you out in case Kysel and the others don't ice whoever it is who broke in here."*


*Spoiler: Midtown - The Merchants' Guild Docks*
Show

Oracle was able to find more than a few of the necessary hairs she'd needed from Bullock's bedding -- for a moment, the thought that half orcs were gross crossed her mind, but she swiftly corrected herself.

Plenty of men were just as hairy and gross, too.

Having completed her mission, she finally made her way back to Midtown by hopping on top of an Arcane Railcar to the first Midtown station, then hopping on an overhead train from there. When she finally hit the docks, she was met with a wave of disorienting nostalgia. In many ways, the docks looked nothing like they had the last time she'd visited -- there were Merchants' guild guards and laborers everywhere, and tons of lights were now lit all up and down the docklands to facilitate work and security.

That was different.

When she arrived at the Merchants' Guild Hall, there was so much activity outside she had trouble finding anyone who could be of any use. Her cowl and mask were recognized, however, and she was greeted warmly. Before long, one of the supervisors was brought out, and he directed Oracle down the docks a short ways, where the _Chraal_ would soon be drawing into it's pier. 

When she arrived, she found a bunch of workers waiting patiently for the ship to draw in. Overseeing them was a small crew of Guild Guards, and in the center of their ranks -- Lucius Fox.

He smiled as he saw her approaching.

*"Well, well well. I almost wasn't sure if I'd get to see you again. I heard you've been busy."*

----------


## Feathersnow

The Bat-Woman braces for a charge after securing her defensive powers!

----------


## MrAbdiel

"No room is safe from me."

The killers that had headed out to engage Batwoman looked equipped enough that Damien wasn't sure she could hold them off, like she did Grundy and the soldiers at the Motte.  Not for long. Best to make this quick, and not linger.

Announcing himself as they head toward the bookshelf, the trio would turn to see the small, black-wrapped form; a vial held up in one hand, a matt-black steel shuriken, glistening with applied fluid, in the other.  He had banked on the notion that these thugs were accomplished rogues, and would recognize the vial of Black Lotus poison the moment they saw it, just as he had back on South Channel Island.  Presenting it, and the shuriken, would lead anyone without a brain injury to the unspoken meat of the threat: _this kid is armed, and capable of killing any one of us if this goes bad._

"But I'm here to talk.  I saved your life back at the ball when I gave Sionis my own face to swing at instead of yours; and it bought your henchmen the time they needed to extract you.   I could have struck you down you right now and left you choking in the arms of your goons while I left as easily as I got in.  But I didn't.  Don't be incurious.  Let's talk.  Send these two ahead into the safe room, and you can follow after them in a moment.  You have my word."

This rapid-fire extension of an opportunity, part threat, part invitation, sounded good; but it all rested on two gambles.  The first was that Falcone wasn't a crime 'true believer' - that his hatred for the Dark Knight, whom he had moments ago been talking about trying yet again to assassinate, would not blind him to what Damien felt was a sensible offer a businessman who did not want to die would find reasonable.  The second gamble was that the rogues in the room had no reason to doubt his threat - because the while the vial was indeed black lotus,  the shuriken at his fingertips was loaded not with that incredibly deadly toxin, but with Damien's run-of-the-mill knockout venom.  Visually, both poisons presented as plant matter suspended in gel.  But it was a bluff; and if called on it, he would have to rapidly reconfigure his plan... probably into a tactical retreat.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves' Guild Hall*
Show

The trio near the book shelf turned around and regarded the boy, Falcone with a look of bemused confusion, his two aides with looks of shock and anger. Armand rapidly drew his crossbow, which was hanging from a sling at his back, and leveled it at Damien, loading in a fresh bolt as he did so. Alberto snapped his fingers, summoning a nimbus of angry red, crackling energy around his right hand. The air seemed to tremble around the magical energy, as though it was superheated, and Damien felt the familiar wave of passing nausea that accompanied the production of arcane power in the vicinity. Alberto raised his right arm and pointed it at Damien, pointer, middle and ring fingers extended towards him, but held his "fire".

*"What the fuggin' hells!?"* Armand hissed.

*"You want me to waste this little street rat boss?"* Alberto said, though he sounded nervous.

*"Eeeyyyyy, ey. Calm down boys. When'd you two get so jumpy around kids huh? Let's hear 'im out. He's not lying -- I did see him at Hill Hall. Frankly I though Sionis might've taken your little head off the way you started bleeding all over the floor. Gotham's an incredible city, ain't it? Healing potions on every corner, if you've got the money to buy 'em. You're a lucky little guy."*

Damien reiterated his demand for the guards to leave, but Falcone just shook his head.

*"Look, kid, you're not gonna scare us with a single black lotus dose alright?"* he smirked. *"Sure, maybe you get it off and maybe one of us dies. Maybe not. I dunno, I'm thinking Alberto and Armand and me got a better chance of taking you down three on one than we did a second ago before you opened your mouth, ya know? But hey. Why get so antsy. You could'a stayed quiet and bid your time, so if you wanna talk? Let's talk. What can Gotham's Thieves guild do for you, and why the fug should we?"*

Falcone seemed leisurely, at ease, relaxed. But Armand and Alberto did not -- each man's eyes were wide, and they were waiting on any sign from Damien or their boss to excuse them to fire.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Falcone didn't seem particularly phased - but then, he barely sweat when Sionis massacred his way through his people.  The man was painted ice.  But he didn't call an attack - that might be enough.  At Falcone's decision to humor the discussion, Damien slips away the vial; and folds the shuriken away into visual no-space.

"That's right.  I put my blood on the floor, and now your skull and face are still neighbours.  Doesn't seem fair; but it's not a fair world."  The gunmetal eyes swing left and right to Alberto and Armand.  "It's about to be a sensitive discussion.  Last chance to talk man-to-man and not risk embarrassment."

Damien gives Falcone one more chance to send the others away; but after that, he can't wait.  Not with the brawl about to erupt next door; if all three had to hear it, then that was the best he was going to get.

"Alright.  Here's something you already know: Velnire's going down.  He's been slipping since we took Raam off the board; and the Kyles are chewing on him from every angle already.  It's a matter of time.  It's just like you said: You're taking big hits, and you need to move carefully.  I won't insult you and lie to your face that you're not on _the list_ of problems with this city to be dealt with.  But you're a criminal who is halfway to respectable; not a mind-puppeting freak or frothing butcher.  Here's what I want:"

Damien raises his empty left hand, as if to receive a gift; and the close fist of the right beside it, as if concealing payment.

"Give me Velnire.  Tell me where he hangs his hat and make whatever moves you need to, to pull your best people out of Midtown.  He's going down either way; but this way you keep your favourite pieces and you get to come out looking like you cut loose some dead weight, instead of having it taken from you.  The Kyles are going to grab midtown - let them take the brunt of the chaos in the region.  Consolidate.  A smart guy like you can adapt to a smaller field as long as he has some warning.  You'll be saving me and my people the hassle of finding out another way. And in return..."

He uncurls the fingers of his fist, presenting the other empty palm - but releasing from within the idea of reciprocated promise.

"I'll put you at the bottom of the list.  That means Cobblepot, Sionis, Tetch, and every other colourful lunatic in this town gets to see a cell or a gibbet before you do - presuming you don't do something stupid like try to burn the town down and elevate yourself to that level of maniac.  I can't give you much - and you wouldn't believe me if I offered it.  But I can give you time - time to get your things together.  Time to entertain the notion that you might be able to grease enough palms, pay enough assassins, and gird enough loins to get away with sowing in thunder, without reaping the whirlwind.  Time won't be _enough_ to save your operation, in the end.  But if you believed that part, you'd have left town already.  Within a week, Velnire is toast anyway.  Make it your move; or else it's your loss.  What's it going to be, Falcone?  Want to be the last one standing - or one of those that bite it, somewhere in the middle?"

It's a hell of a move - even Damien isn't certain Falcone will bite.  But it's possible the two in the room with them will work in his favor - now, if Falcone refuses to sell out Velnire, Alberto and Armand will know he tried to protect him - and failed.  Not a good look; perhaps even less enviable than being the kind of boss known to cut a man loose, in the storm.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - The Jinx - Thieves' Guild Hall*
Show

*"Give you Velnire, huh?"* Falcone seemed to nod, ever so slightly, up and down, while grinning slightly, as if intrigued and mulling the proposition.

*"Take a walk with me boys."*

Falcone walked away from the bookshelf and over to his desk, where he removed a decanter of expensive looking golden liquor and a glass. He didn't offer any to anyone else. Alberto followed Falcone over to the desk but stayed in front of it, eventually posting himself near the leftmost corner, so that he could keep his prepared spell pointed at Damien while allowing Damien at least some visibility of Falcone while he talked. Armand moved too, but only to stand halfway in between the bookshelf and the desk, crossbow still raised and at the ready. Somewhere in the distance, Velnire and his two allies' footsteps receded as they advanced on Kate's position.

Falcone took a sip.

*"You know what, you seem to know a lotta stuff about how this city is run, especially for a little runt. I think that's interesting. And your proposal...well!"* he huffed, shaking his head and taking another sip. *"You got balls kid, I'll tell ya that. Lemme tell you a little story, since you're so smart, and maybe that'll help you see things from my perspective.

Ya see, this city's old. Really, really freakin' old. It's older than the Empire, it's older than the fuggin' Thieves Guild. So it may not seem like it now, but we weren't always the top shop operating out of Gotham. Nah, see, back when I was younger, Zucco and his Dark Market were the biggest game in town. My old Boss used to pay him tributes from the Thieves Guild business, not the other way around. Now the Guild...well. The Guild is huge. We cover the whole continent. But every chapter's gotta look out for themselves, and in Gotham, well, let's just say we weren't the first outfit to get into this kind of work.

You're talkin' about all these other jack mules...Cobblepott, Sionis...'House' Kyle...you think you've got these cats all figured out. Well let me tell you something kid -- you don't. Back in the day, after Lord Thomas Wayne died, this city was in anarchy. It was on the brink of tearing itself apart. The Imperial Army would've had to send three Legions just to burn this place to the ground to stop the chaos. And do you know who was pushing us towards the brink, all that time?"*

*"Let me guess,"* Damien sighed. *"You? Or...Baron Zucco? Some other scum sucker?"*

Falcone laughed again, smiling and taking another drink.

*"Nah. It was Cobblepott.

You see, old Oswald was young by deurgar standards when the Dark Holds fell to the Empire, and he's watched his people scrape to take over their own little fiefdoms under Imperial rule ever since. But those guys...they're all the same. Deurgar lack imagination, you see. They just wanna find a way to get slaves and start new mines and take over other people's businesses. But Oswald? He's different. He just want more money...he wants to rule. And during those days, he wad dangerously close to getting what he wanted. Only one thing wound up stopping him."*

Damien just sighed this time, and shrugged.

*"Us."* Falcone said, his eyes growing cold. *"We were the only shop in Gotham -- not the Justicars, not the Army, and definitely not the College, who could get in The Penguin's way. Oswald almost had what he needed, and once he had it, it'd be all over."*

*"This is literally the longest story I've ever heard. What was he trying to do, and how'd you stop him? And, more to the point, why should I care?"*

*"Oswald Cobblepott needed a crisis that would call the James' authority into question and get the College to drop their support of them. It didn't matter who the Emperor or the Church backed -- in Gotham, if you lose the wizards, you lose the whole game. All The Penguin had to do at that time was show them that Lord James couldn't keep them safe, and he'd facilitate his takeover. The only reason it didn't work is because I had managed to recruit Padfoot the year before, and managed to ice their catspaw with ours."*

*"So you sent your assassin to kill The Penguins? This story still doesn't make any sense."*

*"*Assassins. Plural. Well, to be honest, we only got a few of them. Cobblepott also sent some more rank and file guys we didn't gut, but it turns out that James Gordon is a lot more wily than he looks. He managed to make it out okay."*

*"Ah."*

*"Anyway, the point of all this was, the Thieves Guild saved the city from the Penguin. Not the Law or the Dark Knight, fuggin' us. But once that happened...whoo boy. We were in trouble. Cobblepott paid Zucco -- he was still technically working under the Halfling back then, not over him like he is now -- to take us out. Did it real clean too. Used our shared contacts to drop a fat, juicy case on us in the Imperial Courts. Once they caught me I'd have spent the rest of my short life underneath Blackgate Fortress before they lopped my head off."*

He took another sip, emptying his glass. Then he refilled it.

*"Honestly, I thought it was over."*

*"You look like you turned out fine."*

*"Oh, right! I did! Good point. You know why. Kyself fuggin' Velnire. See, Kysel was still trying to take over his own Guild House back then, set up his own shop. He was a newbie. We had a problem -- or I did, anyway. There was a way to solve that problem too, but not without help from a wizard...or, maybe something close to it. But the College wasn't going to help us, and they were consolidating support to make sure none of the city's freelancing arcanists did either. So Velnire, see? He goes and plans this job. Insane fuggin' job. No one in their right minds would ever try to pull it. He steals this thing -- they call it the Eye of Ymir, in the old texts. Now I hear it's called something else. Anyway, big fuggin' magical diamond. People still come to The Village today and pay money just to see it. He steals it -- impossible fuggin' job -- and him and his crew use it to drop an entire winter snowstorm over The Narrows. Right in the middle of the Summer Solstice! Gets so cold half the poor bastards on the island freeze in place, but the worst of it is over Arkham. Velnire and his boys break in under cover of snowfall, break out half the rogue witches in the city. Gives every one of them three things too: a bag of coin, a name, and a promise."*

*"Kill whoever it is who's name that is, and there's more coin where that came from."* Damien finished the thought.

*"Bingo. So when the noble scions of House Dent marched down the steps of the Imperial Courthouse to announce my charges..."*

Damien's eyes widened. He knew the rest of this story. *"A rogue witch in the crowd blasted the whole family with a huge fireball. Everyone died except Harvey."*

*"....who, since, went fuggin' insane, took his loyalists and started his own gang, and is now one of if not the most wanted men in Gotham, yea."*

*"All this chaos and death...it's all because of you..."*

Falcone just grinned; it was a flat, toothless thing, like a viper's smile. *"Nah. You weren't listening kid. Not because of me. Because of Kysel Velnire. That halfbreed saved my skin and helped save the Gotham Thieves Guild. And he pulled off two of the craziest fuggin' heists the city's ever heard of -- back to back, to do it. Now you come in here, you, some little child soldier so green his short and curlies haven't come in yet, and you want me to stand here and disavow my best fuggin' thief -- in front of my own men -- because. What? I'm supposed to be scared of you?"*

It hadn't worked. Damien had gotten Falcone talking...but as he heard the sounds of clanging metal ring out from further back in the Guild Hall, he realized that Falcone had really just been stalling him.

*"You must be out of your little mind."* Falcone finished his second drink. Alberto fired.

A burning ray of molten fire leapt from Alberto's hands and smacked Damien dead in the chest, burning a hole in his gi...and his chest. It wasn't fatal, but he cried out in pain at the sudden attack, his nostrils filling up with the stench of his own burning skin.

**************************************************  ********************

Kate stood in the room immediately after the key door, braced for an attack. It came, but not from head on. She had barely a moment to flinch as she noticed some of the air near her rippling before the strikes came in.

The Thieves reappeared almost immediately after lashing out, and Kate realized that they must have drank invisibility potions before rushing in, which explained a lot.

A woman in slick leather armor attacked her with a pair of knives from her left, while a male half elf with a pair of swords attacked her from the right. The good news was, most of the attacks were useless -- they clanged off of her thick armor, producing dramatic flashes of sparks, or, even when they might have hit a weak spot in the mail, flailed against her amorpha, striking nothing.

But she was flanked, and completely unprepared for the hits. The enchanted longsword hit her once in the back of the leg -- that hurt. But the short sword was worse, striking her in the side, where the seams of her plate met, driving in deep into her. She gasped in spite of herself and fought to catch her breath as blood began to pour out of her side.

As the invisibility came off and the thieves lashed out at the weak spots in her armor, she suddenly vanished with a puckering, popping sound, her psionic powers kicking in as she messed with time and allowed herself to rapidly reposition away from danger. This was getting too hot.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay so a couple of things.

First of all, I'm sorry in advance, I genuinely didn't know what you guys would do or how this was going to go. That being said this is the command center of the Thieves Guild hall and your approach was both undermanned and incoherent so _some of this is on you, okay!?_ Don't worry I'm sure it'll be fine. You guys are amazing. This will just be like...a really really hard scary circumstance to survive. Very batman!

Now, you're both still up, that's good news., and Kate once again sloughed off _almost_ all of the damage that came her way.

The bad news is you both Damien just took a bunch of sneak and bonus die to the face.

Damien takes 37 damage.

Kate takes 53 damage. Kate gets away scot-free.

Did we roll for initiative already for this encounter? I can't remember.

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate sends the warning! [Run!]

She warps into an alley outside and jumps again, even further!  Then she uses urban strider and disappears into the city.

----------


## JbeJ275

She gives a pained smile to Lucuis as she hesitantly draws closer to him, still wary of an ambush even among this theoretically friendly company.

"That's one way to describe it I suppose. I feel we've achieved a lot, but it's been dangerous and god oh so terrifying at times. Our meeting earlier this week already feels so long ago. Oh, by the way, can you pass on my thanks to Wayne? A gift of his way have saved my life earlier today."

Taking one more deep breath, and casting her eyes out again over the people arrayed here she then continues.

"So, what have you decided to do when the ship gets here?"

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Midtown - Merchant's Guild Docks - The Chraal*
Show

*"I will pass that along! Glad to hear you and Lord Wayne were at least able to come to an understanding."* said Fox.

*"In any case, it's a little hard to blame the shipmaster for what he did, given the circumstances. But if we're ever going to become a better alternative for Gotham than all these criminal monsters, we're going to have to try to purge the corruption from our ranks."*

*"Is that what you are?"* Oracle asked him. *"A better alternative?"*

Fox smiled. *"You know, I think at the end of the day, you're going to have to be the judge of that. All I can promise you is we'll do our best."* Oracle looked around the docks, much busier and more bustling (and better defended) than they had been on her first visit. In truth, she could only hope.

*********************************************

Fox left his guards on the docks and boarded the _Chraal._ The Captain was overseeing the unloading process, but when he saw Fox and Oracle standing on the weatherdeck, the color drained from his face. Fox asked if they could talk in his Cabin, and the Captain simply nodded, leaving them inside.

In the Captain's quarters, Oracle was struck with deja vu. This was the same room she and Spoiler had searched that had turned up the evidence against the Captain in the first place. For his part, the ship master uncorked a bottle of wine on his desk and filled three crystal glasses with it, passing one each to Fox and Oracle before downing his own glass and refilling it.

Fox didn't initially ask anything; instead, he laid the Nigma and Dark Market letters out on the table for the Captain to see them. He sighed.

*"I'm sorry, Lucius. Whatever happens after this talk, I want you to know that. I really, really am."*

*"I know."* said Fox. *"For what it's worth, I'm not even really angry with you. Your time with the Merchants' Guild is over, of course, but I'm not mad. They took Verena. What else were you supposed to do?"*

The Captain just shook his head, and drank a bit more.

*"What I really want to know, is what was going on with the Dark Market. What were you hauling for them?"*

*"Always varied,"* the Captain said freely. *"This time it was a fair bit of narcotics, black magic items, and some weird chemical. When it mixes with seawater it seems to turn into a gas and makes the victims more susceptible to illusions."*

*"Interesting, why do you say, 'Seems'?"*

*"Because one of the barrels leaked during our voyage. We were able to air out the hold while we were underway, but a few of the crew got pretty foggy. Gern was able to identify the effect."* Seeming to belatedly realize his audience included more than just Fox, he turned to Oracle to elaborate. *"Gern's the Chraal's contract wizard."*

That much, Oracle understood. "Contract Wizard" was just a generic term for any mage that farmed their labors out for a cut of a business enterprise rather than adventuring, starting their own practice or working inside the College. It was common for merchants who could afford to do so to hire on a mage who specialized in oceanic magic. They could make the ship's faster, act as a defense against pirates, and generally help keep the ship afloat voyage in, voyage out. Generally.

*"How'd you get the arcana past the Imperial Auditors?"* Fox continued.

*"The Dark Market has a way of lining ship holds to defend against divinations. It's not perfect, and as best I am aware it only works either when we're underway, or at a slight distance. But they've pretty much modified all the ships they rent to bypass the Auditors."*

Auditor -- there was another career for an Imperial Mage, and one of the dullest (if most stable). Since so much commerce was magical, often weighing ships or measuring their displacement wasn't enough to regulate and tax commerce. Diviners had to be deployed to ensure that magical cargoes matched their manifests. 

*"Alright then. How many of my Captains are on Zucco's payroll?"* said Fox.

*"At least a third, maybe as many as half. I'm honestly not sure, but I can give you a list of all of the ones I know."*

Fox nodded, and the Captain grabbed a quill, inkwell and parchment and began scribbling furiously. After he'd handed over the list, Fox thanked him.

*"Alright then, here's the deal. I have some good news and some bad news. The good news here, my friend Oracle here and her buddies found Verena. She's safe, here in Midtown."*

The shipmaster nearly sobbed, unleashing an outpouring of joy, thanking Fox profusely. *"The bad news,"* said Fox, cutting the celebrations short, *"Is that you and Verena can't stay in Gotham anymore. Between the Thieves, the Market and the Nigmas, it's too dangerous. Oracle has Verena in a safehouse nearby. Get your affairs in order, then meet her and Verena back here at the docks."*

Fox tossed out a sack of coins onto the table. It looked heavy.

*"That's way more than enough silver to start a brand new life, far, far from here. I'll have food and supplies on a Sloop waiting for you here at the docks. Once you've been reunited, get out of Gotham, and take her somewhere safe."*

The Captain thanked Fox and Oracle profusely, overcome with relief. He seemed baffled, like he couldn't understand why Fox had shown such mercy and generosity.

*"It's time we started doing things a little differently around here. We need a new alternative."* he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

***********************************************

They left the cabin and the Captain ran off to do as he was bid. She went to part ways with Fox, but as Oracle looked over the edge of the _Chraal,_ she saw something surprising waiting for her on the dock.

Nightwing, Spoiler, and Robyn were waiting for her, in full adventurer garb, looking happy.

*"Hello Oracle."* said Sir Richard. *"Long time no see."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

There is a little dissertation here the Captain is going to give up intel-wise that helps underscore the powerplay dynamics in Gotham. However, I really wanted to get this post out after the Disaster of the Great Deletening from earlier this week, and I'm horribly sick right now with food poisoning, so I have to cut it off here. But you guys have enough to get going and I can layer in that other stuff in an edit probably tomorrow.



*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

It is Damien's turn at the Jinx, by the way. Jbe, I'll let you deal with this however you wish.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien cries out as the flames lash across his shoulder and back as he turns.  _Foolish!  Foolish to try to reason with these cretins!  These monsters!  These..._

*Spoiler: Flash.*
Show

_"...These animals."  The Demon's Head flicked his sword once, neatly displacing all the blood from its edge in a splattered line across the doublet of his beheaded captive.  Damien watched the eyes of the man his grandfather had so casually executed flutter and roll.  He wondered if the head, the mind, observed or knew anything in that moment.  The grey haired leader of the League of Shadows continued, glancing with his verdantly green eyes to the young protege.

"Or rather.. these symptoms."

Damien had been studying the Parable of the Surgeon as per his mother's request. Clearly, his grandfather knew this.

"I understand, grandfather.  I have understood for some time.  I am the scalpel.  You are the surgeon.  The people of Gotham are the ailing man.  The criminals are the tumors; their deeds are the symptoms."

The sword - Tālūn sh-Shīṭān - clicked back into its sheath, with a whisper of power.  Within the same year, that blade would be clashing against his father's silver sword, and would be sent spiralling into the abyss beneath Nanda Parbat.  But now, while it rested on his Grandfather's hip, Damien could not imagine anyone ever defeating its wielder.  That esteem for Ra's Al'Ghul worked to turn the coming rebuke into a branding lesson he would remember forever.

"You understand nothing.  You are young.  Your vision lacks scope.  The world is the ailing man.  Gotham is the tumor.  The people are the symptoms.  You are the surgeon that your father should have been.  And the scalpel is yet to be revealed - but in time, it will become available to you.  If you permit your vision to be narrowed by childish notions of mercy and fairness, you will fail at your sacred task.  There is nothing merciful about excising half of a dying man's tumor."_


_These symptoms._

He can do nothing, now.  He has gained only a sliver of information, and paid for it by informing the enemy of their immediate plan.  Mercy lashes him again, for daring to reach for it.  _Hell_ ought take his father for infecting him with this weakness!

Before the thugs can finish the deed, he snaps a burst of smoke powder, and vanishes from view.

Ethereal, he retreats with Kate's warning in his ear; dropping through the floor and running through the air to the exterior of the house.  When he snaps back into being, he is halfway down a drainpipe on the house's exterior, bypassing the alarms just as he did on the way in.*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Swift action to go ethereal for another Ki point; then fleeing through the north wall seems to be the shortest route to the outside.  After that, it's sneak off into the city time.  Hopefully, they don't have a good plan to chase!

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Uptown - Hell's Kitchen*
Show

The buildings in Hell's Kitchen were quite a bit taller than the ones in other slums like Fort Clinton. Once a sprawling and luxurious district for a huge cabal of merchant noble houses, the neighborhood had fallen onto hard times after the ceaseless machinations of the city's ruling elite ripped apart the old merchants' cabal and replaced them with new, equally indulgent power networks. The building Damien eventually dragged himself on top of had to be at least eight stories tall, ringed with gargoyles, decorated with long-oxidized bronze embellishments, and multiple crenelated towers. It'd once been some kind of palace, but had long since fallen into partially-abandoned ruin, collapsing in some places, being reconstituted and partitioned into a warren of semi-legal apartments and squatters homes. Still, the view from the top of the ruined palace might have been beautiful, if the little adventurer wasn't in agonizing pain and a writhing vortex of self-righteous anger.

Damien laid back against a greened bronze storm drain, clutching his injury and getting around to fiddling in his pouch for a healing potion, when he heard a voice from over his shoulder. 

*"That could have gone better."*

Damien turned his head, to see Kate's dark, armored and cloaked form standing just a few feet away on the same rooftop.

*"Did you...follow me here...somehow?"*

If Kate's face was reacting to the question, her dark helm obscured whatever it was. *"No. I got here twenty minutes ago. Apparently you and I have the same taste in rooftops. Which...is odd, really. Why didn't you head back to the Carriage?"*

*"I...was feeling too chagrined. After the Thieves smoked me I didn't want reports of the Dark Carriage fleeing the area immediately after to wind up in the Herald."*

*"Oh. So you were being petty."*

Damien groaned. *"That's not what I..."*

*"No no, it's okay. I was being petty too."*

*"I meant that the symbol of the Dark Knight is an important part of our mission...but yea. Sure. Petty. Fine."*

*"I know this was bad,"* Kate said. *"But look at the bright side. We found Falcone's Guild Hall. Did you learn anything while you were in there?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien shakes his head; but then corrects the suggested negative.  "My ultimatum failed.  Falcone seems to be possessed of two things: an old-school sense of criminal honor to his comrades, and a delusional unwillingness to see the precariousness of his position.  All it will take is for the False Face Society to catch him with his pants down at another event and he's dead and gone.  Those add up into a total unwillingness to sell Velnire out for more time out of the Dark Knight's crosshairs."  He winces, tenatively sprinking a curative powder of the broad magical burn on his chest; shivering as he picks scraps of burned cloth from his skin.

"He noted that I seemed well informed for a child - which is true.  But my hope is that will require him to scramble through the scattered intelligence on Lady Kyle's numerous child prodigies, especially since my pitch was to surrender Midtown to them.  He might make the leap that Damien of house Wayne was his intruder; but it'd be a lucky leap.  Damien has only been in town for a short time, and has done nothing to publicly suggest he's more competent than his layabout father."
"He talked a lot about Cobblepot.  How last time he tried to seize the city, the goal was to strongarm the arcanists at the College into publically withdrawing support for House James.  Falcone's in house assassin, _Padfoot_, was able to counterstrike against Cobblepot's forces, who were trying to kill off James Gordon to prove Lord James was toothless.  If he's telling the truth - and I suspect he is - then Oracle owes her father's life to Falcone.  An uncomfortable fact."

"But after that, Velnire was the force that permitted the Theives to get their leg up over the Dark Market in the subsequent street war.  The gem Lady Kyle wants me to recover - he used it before to breach Arkham under cover of a blizzard and recruit a gallery of rogue wizards, and send them on a series of assassination jobs to disentangle the Guild from reprisal.  One of those targeted was House Dent."

He sighs, and admits.  "I underestimated the Guild's importance in all this.  They're the cause of much of the bedlam; but they're also the stopping force preventing the Cobblepots from operating with impunity.  If we manage to make a telling strike against the Guild, we can't let the Cobblepots go unchecked.  They have to come down together.  And we _have_ to stop anyone from getting a hand under the College.  If anyone manages to get control of the Beast, they might well use it to knock off their enemies and then demonstrate to the city that no one is safe - that might just move the wizards to pledge loyalty to whomever commands it, publicly or not."

He grimaces as he finished his field-management of the injury; now a black and white patchwork of ninja and mummy.

"What else, what else... Well, we know everyone Falcone keeps in his inner circle.  *Velnire, Allegra and Johnny* are the hitters - they were the ones that went to deal with you.  *Armand and Alberto* are the ones they left behind to get the boss to safety.  Armand seems like a personal bodyguard; Alberto is Falcone's pocket-mage.  The one they were relying on to teleport him away, if needed.  But he can martial powerful offensive magic to be sure - I know it first hand."

"Before I went in, I listened.  They were talking about whether or not to issue a contract kill for Lord James; but they seemed to come down on keeping him alive for fear of removing obstacles to the Banker's Army.  Cobblepott really keeps them up at night.  But Velnire was pushing for them to act directly against us - because he knew if we roll up the Bankers, they're next.  So we should expect _Padfoot_ to come for us, in the field."

Another sigh.  "How can we use any of this?  I want to nail Velnire and get that gem - but right now, he's going to be expecting it. That means the Guild will be contracting its forces to protect Velnire's interests.  Maybe... Maybe we try to find a movement of thieves and follow them around in Midtown, but there's no guarantees of anything, like that.  We need Oracle back."

----------


## JbeJ275

Immedietly Oracle turned to fox, trying to divine whether he had set this up or was merely witness to it. The temptation to try and know for certain, to peer deeper into his mind was present but she fought it down. She shouldn't take hostile moves here, for all the damage that had been done to the unsteady relationship between her and the allaince of the bats she had no reason to break it open wider. Still just in case she flared her cape open wider, directing Juluis under the ledge at the side of the water from where she'd be hidden and better able to make good her escape. 

Only then did she actually respond to Sir Richard, carefully casting glances back at Spoiler and Robyn as she did so.

"Really? It seems to only have been a few days by my count, though I've been making every effort to keep busy as you no doubt already know. What's the occasion to come and seek me out so soon?"

----------


## MrAbdiel

As they prepare to head away from the scene of failure, Damien straightens up and blinks.  "...Wait; he said- ... He said the gem- that people pay to see it, at Gotham Village in Midtown.  I don't know if he let it slip because he thought I was about to die, or if that was his way of agreeing to my terms without tipping his hand to his goons - ...But now we know.  If we get that gem, it weakens the Theives, strengthens the Kyles, and gets the Mages a little breathing room, by giving Victor of House Fries what he needs.  Alright.  Alright, this is good.  Now we just need to find _where_ in the village; but if he's charging people, presumably rich people to see it, we should speak to someone who has toes in the gossip flow.  _Brown_, probably.  But I'm in bad shape.  If we can get to the Merchant holdings at the docks, I can wring some healing tonics out of old Fox."

----------


## Feathersnow

That could have gone better...  

I'm relieved you managed to escape without my help.  Two people with your kind of skills double-teamed me and I had to warp time and space to keep my guts on the inside.

You are right that we need help, and we need to find Oracle.   But first, you need those wounds looked at. Questor can do it, but if you want to try Fox first, be my guest.

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Midtown - Fort Clinton Slums - Merchants Guild Docks*
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*"Look, I know you're upset,"* Nightwing began. *"But seriously, we need you. Gotham needs you. We can't do this divided."*

It seemed like he was going to speak a bit more, but Stephanie cut him off.

*"Oracle, we heard about Lord Tetch."* she said. Nightwing blanched; aparently _he_ had not heard about Lord Tetch.

*"Word on the street is there was a break in, same night as the Hill Hall Massacre. Blood everywhere, the Hatter missing. Was that you? The gnomes are keeping it quiet for now but the rumor mill Uptown is in overdrive. Oracle...listen...we...we're worried about you. I know you're feeling devastated right now. And angry too, I'm sure. But whatever this is you're doing, whatever you've been up to...you've got to let us help you. We care about you."*

That made some sense. Richard -- or, probably, Bruce -- had enlisted Stephanie and Robyn to start working their contacts to try to find her. The "gnomes" might have been trying to keep her last raid quiet, but given what she'd seen in Tetch Hall, she doubted the lunatics in that house could keep a lid on anything. Once they'd heard that Tetch'd been raided, the must have assumed she'd be tying up loose ends, for lack of better options. Or -- more likely -- they'd guessed.

*"Oh, really? Like that little twit child we let follow us around helped me when we went after the Mind Flayer?"* she growled.

*"People make mistakes!"* Spoiler said, pleading a bit. *"You know that as well as anyone! Look, I can't tell you it's going to be alright, but I know the people in this town are going to keep suffering if we don't find a way to make this madness end, and we just can't do it on our own. Do you really think you can take this whole city down by yourself?"*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Spoiler rolls Sense Motive to try to deduce how Oracle's been feeling. She also had to work a few other rolls just to wind up here but we can leave that aside for now.

If you choose to mask what you're really feeling (regardless of whether her initial guess was right), you can roll Bluff to block her check and leave her guessing.

She's also rolled Diplomacy to try to warm up Oracle's attitude towards her cause, and maybe break down the barriers between them somewhat. You can choose to play that game too, rolling an opposing check to see which of you has the advantage, or, you can ignore the attempt and react how you want instead.



*Spoiler: Midtown - Gotham Village - Oracle's Apartment*
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Damien and Kate made their way back to the Coach swiftly; it wasn't hard, with her _urban strider_ capabilities the City of Gotham appeared to be Dame Kane's playground, and it was barely an effort for her to pick up Damien in one arm and carry him along for the ride. All of her companions were on the smaller side, but Damien was a small child -- the least pleasant part about hoisting him was he was mostly skin and bones, but even that was little hindrance for the half-demon, Imperial Army veteran with the magically super-powered strength.

They dropped down to the Coach, which was still waiting for them in the dark alley, and with a bit of prodding on it's arcane controls, it carried them swiftly to Oracle's townhouse in the Village. They hid the carriage behind the building and Kate used a quick silent, psychic missive to contact Renee inside the building. After a moment, Questor opened the door and the group made their way upstairs.

Verena was asleep in another room. Questor'd had most of the lights off, but once she got Damien into the candlelight of the study, she realized the extent of his injuries and cursed in spite of herself.

*"Hell's below! What happened?"*

*"Thieves Guild has wizards."* Damien managed to grunt.

*"We found Falcone's Guild Hall, so in a way, we made progress. But it came at a cost. We need more firepower."*

*"We need to stay the hell out of this mess. Leave the city and never look back."*

Kate took off her helm, looking at Renee with a knowing look.

*"I know, I know. Of course I don't mean it."* she stripped off the burned parts of Damien's gi, eliciting a yelp of pain as some of it was still fused to his skin. *"But this is ludicrously dangerous. We need to figure out how to be more careful."*

After her worried admonishments Questor prayed over Damien's body, skipping some of the more traditional medicinal resources sitting next to her and going straight to St. Cuthbert "upstairs". The prayers worked; celestial energy flowed out of her hands and through Damien's body, and the work he'd done earlier with his potion accelerated as his wounds (internal and external) began to rapidly close. Unsatisfied with her work the first round, Questor repeated the process, this time a bit faster, until eventually he was (mostly) sewed back up.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Questor burns three spells, healing Damien for 39 HP.


After she'd finished, she wrapped his injury in clean bandages, *"to prevent infection,"* and wrapped up her work. Damien eventually felt well enough to sit back up in his chair.

*"Okay...now what. Back to the Castle, or to the Docks?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien considers his own question, and supplies an answer before anyone else can.

"We can't move Verena to the docks - Fox will have some plan and I don't want to mix up his pieces.  Grayson and his team will no doubt be expecting to regroup with us back at the castle.  I guess we ought to head back there, and see if they've had any luck tracking Oracle.  And if Brown is there, I can pick her brain about Gotham Village before she vanishes off into the shadows of the House Kyle machine."

----------


## Molan

*Spoiler: Midtown - Fort Clinton Slums - Merchants Guild Docks*
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Oracle could tell that Spoiler was grasping at strings -- the "educated guesswork" theory of how she'd been found was looking stronger by the second. But she couldn't help but feel her resolve against seeing the "Wayne" toadies soften, somewhat. Stephanie lacked the nobles' presumptions, and managed to actually speak to her like an actual person. Barbara could tell that she actually cared about what she was saying -- fewer ulterior motives with this one. 

*"I'm not trying to take down the whole city. I'm making things right. And I need to be able to do that in a way where I can control things. I can't trust the fate of any more innocents in this city to this half-arsed operation. We're not a team of adventurers or a military band, we're a mess. I need to be in control, it's the only way to keep people safe."*

*"You think you're in control!?"* Spoiler exclaimed. *"That's nuts, Oracle. You have to know that. You're not in control; you telling me everything's gone perfectly since you went off on your own? Even if you could somehow accomplish everything you wanted, people are still going to get hurt. How many more people, do you think, are going to get hurt if we fail in our mission? Or if you get killed? What do the people do then?"*

*"Listen, Spoiler, you don't understand. I can't..."*

*"No, Oracle, you listen!"* she insisted. *"You're amazing! You can do anything. I would kill to have half the power you hold in your pinky. Sure, Scion is sneaky, and Batwoman can fight. But no one can do what you do. Not even the Dark Knight. If you close yourself off...well..."*

*"She's right."* Greyson cut in. *"You feel like you need to be in control because you know what it feels like to have lost it. You've seen the consequences. But you don't ever have control -- not really. The kinds of people who think they do...well, they're the kind of people we've sworn to fight. The Dark Knight started this crusade years ago. I've been with him for longer than I care to remember. We can do a lot of incredible things. But I'll tell you this -- we can't stop every enemy of Gotham by ourselves, and we definitely can't stop that Monster. If we're going to do any of that, we're going to have to do it together. I can't promise things will go well, or even that it'll work. But I can promise you this -- we will try. We will have your back, and we will put the people of this city first. I don't know if that's good enough for you, but I think it should be. I hope you'll reconsider."*

Oracle couldn't help but feel moved by their pleas, though she wasn't completely convinced. She felt torn, at a crossroads, of sorts.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Bluff beats Sense Motive, but Spoiler's Diplomacy crushes yours. She's successfully moved your attitude in her favor -- the question now is for you to decide how far back into her favor.

Have Spoiler and Nightwing talked Oracle off the ledge, or does this dark journey have another solo chapter?

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## JbeJ275

"You're right Spoiler, I can't be in control of all of it, now in the way I wanted to, not in the way I needed to, in order to do this right and walk away clean at the end. But you're... I don't even know if you're wrong but you don't see it, even with all my research, all my divining, all my trying to thread the best course availible even with heretical magic and the rawest arcana I can't do it right, I can't do it and still be better than them, I can't do it and still look at myself in the morning."

While she's saying this she begins walking away from the Chaarl, getting more remote from the non vigilantes as her voice grows louder.

"The innocents of this city deserve to be saved from the people who'd use them, and they deserve, afterwards to have people that can continue to protect them, show them the way forward. I can do the first, but everything I can't control, all the threads that slip through my fingerprints they mean I can't do both. If I want to protect them I need to strike first, and strike without holding back, I need to escalate at them when they escalate at me, if we can't always take them down first..... and I don't know if it's possible for me to do that without becoming the type of thing you have to fight.. and I don't know if I can do that while following any rules you try and set.... but if after hearing all this you still think trust me to fight alongside you... but how could you, I've I've. 

At this, she tensed up ne final time ready to turn, every muscle in her body tense and ready to flee.

*Spoiler: OOC*
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This is best RP'd with them talking at least a bit more, but I'm good being talked down in your next post and making the transition from there.

----------


## Molan

Spoiler quickly caught up to Oracle, talking to her as she walked away, but Richard and Robyn held back, realizing it wasn't necessarily wise or right to intrude any further.

*"I know that, I know. Look, Oracle. You're a good person -- and a good mage, besides, which I gotta say is kind of unusual with your lot. But when I was growing up, let me tell you. We didn't have any amazing spellcasting legendary heroes to swoop in and take on the bad guys. My pa was a crook -- and an idiot to boot. Ma' was a mess. We had to get food where we could, and these goons like the Thieves and the Market. We had to take em as they were. No one was comin' to save us."*

They'd wandered a bit away from the _Chraal's_ dock, standing near some stacks of crates, away from eavesdroppers. 

*"And it's not like I'm not used to getting screwed either. You know who threw my dad in prison? The Dark Knight! No one ever bothered to check and see how we'd eat once Pa got pinched. But you know what? These days when little poor girls like me look out at the street? You see people like Raam and Kysel Velnire and Boss Falcone looking over their shoulders. You see people standing up, and fighting back. You see hope again! Our people, they're always gonna be killed and hurt and robbed as long as scum-suckers like the Penguin run our streets. But I'll tell you this right now -- that Mind Flayer would have kept on killing and enslaving people for centuries if we hadn't taken a stand. And those blokes on that deck? They'd all have been squid food."*

She took a step back, looking around at the now-bustling docks.

*"Maybe you don't have any faith in us. Or maybe not in yourself, I dunno. But I got faith in you, Oracle. And all these blokes out here? They're working for Lucius Fox, not Barron Zucco, not Boss Falcone. I think they all probably believe in you too."*

Oracle was still looking cagey, like she might leave again, but she followed Spoiler's gaze, at least for a moment.

*"I dunno. If it were me? I'd try 'n go help fetch that man's daughter from yer safehouse, do a bit more good, and come back with us. See how you feel then. What could it hurt?"*

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## JbeJ275

"You, now hoping like that, caring like that. It can hurt a lot, when things you can't control get in the way. But not doing it would hurt more...."

With a final shaky breath the tension dropped out of Oracle's body, and she turned towards the city remembering the location of the safehouse. 

"Let's go reunite a family, do a little more good."

----------


## Molan

*== MIDTOWN - GOTHAM VILLAGE - ORACLE'S APARTMENT ==*

It had slowly started to rain outside while Questor had been healing Damien, a soft piter-patter of raindrops beginning to cascade down the long Gothic window casting moonlight over the otherwise dimly lit study. It was peaceful -- even the prospect of getting back into the Dark Coach and returning to Wayne Castle didn't seem preferable to simply curling up in Oracle's apartment and sleeping their injuries and weariness away.

But, as Damien suggested returning to the citadel and Kate and Questor began to consider the idea, they heard something that put them all on edge -- the loud clacking of a lock turning and opening downstairs. Kate ran to the stairway leading to the bottom of the apartment, pole axe braced at the ready, and Questor dropped into a fighting stance next to Damien, raising each of her fists and ensconcing them in the scintillating, glowing white fire she'd displayed outside of Chelsea Motte.

But the door opened, and some people walked in downstairs, and after a moment Kate returned from the stop of the stairs, looking significantly relaxed, and leaning her pole axe back up against the far wall.

*"False alarm."* she sighed, without further explanation. Questor relaxed and her white fire fists doused their auras, and a moment later Kate was followed into the room by four familiar looking faces; Sir Richard, as Nightwing. Stephanie as Spoiler, and Robyn with her, now bedecked in more useful looking armor. And behind them: Oracle.

*"Holy Hells, you actually found her."* Damien gasped. 

Oracle surveyed the scene in front of her, shaking her head ever so slightly. Her eyes settled on Damien.

*"Seems like someone finally managed to teach you a lesson. Stop bleeding all over my carpet, you weren't invited."*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  ++++++++++++++

Questor agreed to take Verena back to the docks, to be off with her father. Renee took a nearby taxi carriage and made sure the girl was well provisioned. Wherever Verena and her fahter landed, it'd be far from Gotham, and it'd be safe.

Kate, Richard, Damien, Stephanie, Robyn and Barbara all took their time putting themselves together and eventually left the apartment, finding the Dark Coach hidden behind the building. Despite herself, Oracle gasped when she saw its interior, and began examining it's arcane mechanisms even as it's shadowy courses took off screaming, dragging them off into the night. The Coach ran quick out of Gotham Village and onto the Carter Bridge, which took them out of Midtown and into the Farmlord's pastures, where no one of any import would have eyes on their passing. They took the well-trod country highway south, onto one of two bridges that led to Wayne Isle, but in the woods at the southern shores of the passage, they cut down a winding secondary path, leading to a hidden section of the bridge that ran under it's primary section. Running between the support columns that held both bridge paths up, the Dark Coach ran hidden across the waters of the river until it entered a cave beneath the island, safe from prying eyes. Before long, they were back in the Dark Knight's Lair, in the stables, and Sir Pennyworth was waiting to greet them as they dismounted.

They slept in Wayne Castle the rest of the evening, and the morning, and into the afternoon, as was becoming everyone's habit. No one slept very peacefully; the city was in extreme peril, despite their successful outing, and the weight of what awaited them lay on everyone's mind. Still, they slept well enough, at least, that when they finally awoke, they were ready.

Oracle made her way down to the great hall where Bruce'd met them several times before, finding that Damien, Kate, Robyn, Stephanie and Renee were all gathered there; the last of which must have arrived after they did. But she had only just walked in when Sir Pennyworth arrived, clearing his throat.

*"I'm terribly sorry, but we won't be meeting here. We need to take this conversation to the...em, East Wing."*

*"Why?"*

*"There are not so many servants in this Castle as there once were, perhaps, but Master Wayne feels that on this particular occasion, some additional precaution is warranted. We've entered a dangerous new phase, now. Oh, and Lady Oracle, it's very wonderful to have you back with us again."*

Down in the Cave, Bruce was waiting, and Sir Richard with him. Near the Barracks and the Library was a large platform, ringed by metal pillars with torches and a large iron candelabra hanging over it, but with no walls or ceiling to speak of. In the center of the platform was a long, ancient looking table, stamped with an ornate steel dire bat sigil of House Wayne. Twelve tall backed chairs ringed the table. Bruce sat at the head of the table -- the other eight members of the group all took seats as well.

*"I'm sorry we couldn't talk in the comfort of the great hall, but things are getting serious."* said Bruce. He was, in some ways, looking better than they'd seen him the entire time they'd been here, yet in other ways he looked more anxious, more...strained.

*"The enemies of Gotham are moving. It's time for us to act as well. Tell me, did anyone learn anything...useful over the last couple of days? Were we successful?"*

The message seemed mostly pointed at Damien and Kate, though he kept his body language open so as not to exclude anyone at the table. Still using the padded gloves with Oracle, it seemed.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Woohoo! Everyone gets 6,000 experience and 1,500 GP from the Batcave stores from this last adventure -- GP can come in the form of market-price gear if you're needing anything.

Who wants to kick us off?

----------


## JbeJ275

"I found some writings in Cobblepot's own hand concerning their current state. Missives from the day after the Siege of Chelsea Motte. We've got him angry, and he was bold, writing of treason unashamedly. They were nearly ready to attempt a coup until the Dark Knight's efforts to supress them kept them in check, but until Chelsea Motte it looked like they were taking advantage of how he's stopped patrolling the city, to move forward again.

Now, the justiciars have opened a formal investigation into the Bankers' business, Cobblepot was told and got spooked. They can see the Merchant's Guild making a comeback, and House Sionis is striking at them through the craftsman's guild. Right now Cobblepot wants to get the Mages on his side, as they're an essential pillar of support for house James, probably through blackmail and Tetch seemed to be involved in procuring it. Something to do with the party at hill hall that ended so memorably. I also secured some more of his correspondence, though I've not yet had the chance to analyse it.

There was also a cult setting up on South Channel Island, probably involved with the business with the bards and trying to burn half the city down for reasons entirely of their own.



*Spoiler: Nightmare*
Show


The night before, Oracle was hidden away, chanting in soft tones, trying to bring her mind close to that of this foe, one more piece of business that must be done before she tried to walk the higher roads once more.

Bullock must make a DC 21 Will Saving throw with a -10 Modifier

----------


## MrAbdiel

*Spoiler: Secret Molan Spoilers*
Show

Once back at the citadel, Damien will spend more time visiting the Medusa and talking to her. 
 He's been doing so for a while, now; he's probably starting to confide accidentally.

He had this little thing on his sheet when I made him, see; he needs friends, and he doesn't really know it or understand it. 
 He's almost made friends a few times so far; but Kate's whole world is around her knighthood and her lover; Steph's chasing her ambitions with the Kyles; and Oracle... pretty much loathes Damien at this point, lol.

So he doesn't know it, but he's coping with loneliness, hard.  No child ninja friends from Nanda Parbat here!


Damien offers his and Kate's findings, in turn.

"I spoke to Falcone directly.  He's stressed.  Stretched.  The resources of the Theives' Guild are pulled taut and they're looking for a big move to put them back in the game.  His lieutanants are giving conflicting advice, and it's not clear which way he'll go; but most of them involve assassinating someone.  Velnire is his strongest and most cunning voice; and he's pushing the line that the only chip that matters right now is getting control of the Beast, then using the beast to kill off all opposition - James's, Gordons, Blackgates.  They know that making a move that injures the Justicars and the Blackgates right now will just free Cobblepot up to win the city; so their ambition right now appears to be killing the Dark Knight, along with his accomplices, whom they see as the primary obstacle to their work and the one they can remove without tipping the war for the city into Cobblepot's pocket.  We already suspected that 'Padfoot' was gunning for us; now we can expect he'll be gunning for the Knight, too.  I've learned only rumor about Padfoot - I understand he was Falcone's instrument to kill off most of the hired swords that Copplepot dispatched to murder James Gordon, in an effort to paint House James as impotent to protect their allies.  Fundamentally, Copplepot and Falcone are struggling over a means to frighten the Mage's Guild into withdrawing their backing from House James and subtly supplying it to them.  That's the victory condition they have.  Whichever one we cripple first, we ought to be ready to strike the other - right now the Justicars, Penguins, and Theives are a triangulated threat.  That's giving us time."

"But Velnire is a problem that we might want to prioritize.  He's ruthlessly cunning.  He orchestrated the big Arkham breakout and the flood of attacks and assassinations that kept Falcone out of the dungeons under Blackgate; including the fireball attack on the Dents.  He probably still has a stable of rogue mages desperate to do his bidding.  But he also has the Eye of Ymir, stolen from House Fries, and apparently displays it in Gotham Village where selected allies can view it and admire him.  If we can take that back, the trophy of his greatest heist, we can undermine his legitimacy in Midtown, propel the Kyles into opposition, and possibly gain an ally in House Fries.  All this without having to kick in the door and fight Velnire right away, with an unknown number of mages of unknown power."

----------


## Molan

Bruce listened as Barbara and Damien spoke, nodding slowly, seeming lost in thought. After Damien finished talking, the table fell silent for a little while, and for a moment it almost seemed as though Bruce wasn't paying attention at all. But eventually, he spoke.

*"So...the Thieves and the Cobblepotts are both in trouble. Oswald wants to finish taking over the city, and Falcone just wants to keep things the same. And everyone's still hunting Lord Dent, but no one knows where he is. I have that more or less right?"*

*"I mean yea, pretty much. Plus we still have work to do fortifying the Justicars so that they can properly stand up to these thugs."*

*"Well, outside of finding Dent and preventing anyone from achieving a 'checkmate', seems like the Thieves is the bigger priority. We've got to stop Cobblepott from achieving his coup, but, the good news is, at least they're on the defensive right now. Padfoot's no joke...I've never seen him before either, but he's one of the most feared hitmen in the city. Besides, now you know exactly where the Guild Hall is, and you're close to finding Velnire's house in the Village and kneecapping him by seizing the eyes. On the other hand, the Cobblepotts are a bigger threat to the city as a whole -- if you could find a way to bring a bigger case against the Penguin or further disrupt his operation, that's probably going to be the easiest way to protect the city's government from collapsing completely."*

Richard shook his head. *"Lot of leads to chase, seems like if we choose wrong, the risks are enormous. Should we try dividing and conquering again?"*

*"Maybe."* said Bruce. *"One way or another, we need to knock some of these pieces off of the board. Oracle, how serious do we think this cult is? Hopefully it's not on par with the rest of the threats out there."*

----------


## Feathersnow

Kate defers naturally to Scion, relieved to be able to have the intelligence analyzed by someone trained to such things, instead of Arcane mental exercises and  battlefield tactics...

----------


## JbeJ275

"Right now, I think they're only hunting for bards. They're putting people in constant danger, and further attacking the connective tissue of the city, but when I encountered them I worked to hit them hard, hopefully they'll still be on the back foot long enough for us to deal with some of the other threats around, then take them out with a definitive strike later. Everyone needs to keep an eye out for them though, and rember that if you see their leader he's a wizard with no actual identified extradimensional connections. If Scion has shaken up the rouges and let them confirm that we're looking into them, that might mave started a ticking clock before we do something drastic, I'd raather target Velnire directly, then merely publicly embarass her, that carried to high a risl of her being able to retaliate and hurt a lot of people doing it, but if the location of the eye is all we have we might not have the time for a better target or cleaner opportunity.

*Spoiler: Bullock*
Show

Inside his nightmare, bullock would come to, seeing his home around him, but surrounded beyond them by a horrid whispering coming from every crack in the walls and behind every window and doorway, a thousand hungry souls crying out for justice. Standing on the celing ther head pointing down at him is a humanoid form with fangs too large to fit within its would and too-long arms folded in over themselves with stretches of skin connecting around them. 

The beast looked down, at bullock's form and spoke. _"So this is where your choices have brought you, I hope you'll find companionship here in time."_

----------


## MrAbdiel

"I'm all for knocking these Thieves down a few pegs; I think that needs to start with the gem.  I'd like to see Velnire taken out - but I fear he'll be hard to isolate. He's definately the strategist of Falcone's lieutenants; and he organised the response to our incusion.  The others - atleast those in the room, who were worth Falcone's time and in his confidence in a meeting discussing is present weakness - are worth thinking about knocking off.  Armand, Alberto, Allegra, Johnny."

"Allegra and Johnny went with Velnire to respond to Kane; I assume the three of them work together as a killing unit, but I haven't seen them work.  Armand seems like he might be Falcone's personal bodyguard, if anything; or else just a scarred old hand at the guild. But Alberto is a mage of... considerable power."  He touches his bandaged chest slightly.  It's the second time he's been badly burned; the first from the hellhounds, in the vaults.

"He's the one Falcone relies on for magical extraction.  A teleport proficient mage.  I wonder if we go after Velnire directly, we won't end up with all of them teleporting in to support him right now.  If we can get that gem, the Midtown thieves will be in disarray, if the Kyles are to be believed.  I think it would be wise for us to eliminate Alberto, at that point."  He looks to Steph.  "Brown.  Do you have a working knowledge of Gotham Village, by any chance?  Particularly any Theives' Guild holdings there, which might contain a front in which Velnire performs vanity viewings of his prize for select friends?"

----------


## Molan

Stephanie leaned back in her chair, stretching a bit as her mouth widened into a large grin; she seemed to be reveling in the opportunity to be helpful.

*"Honestly....no."* she said, abruptly letting some of the air out of the moment. Robyn smirked.

*"But! I can probably figure out who can. If we know it's the in the village, we can start working whispers and sources in the area. I can probably get some of the Kyles to help. The Midtown Thieves are scary, but people are a lot less scared of them now than they used to be -- way more competition in Midtown. Justicars too. Any chance you guys can give me and Robyn...two days? To try to get the intel on this?"*

Damien looked nakedly frustrated, and Alfred, Kate, and Oracle all seemed frustrated too. But Bruce spoke up first.

*"That's fine, Stephanie. Anything you need. Everyone else should take their time to prepare; we don't want to get caught unprepared again."*

*Spoiler: Bullock*
Show

The half orc was paralyzed on the floor, staring up at the imagine hissing at him. He started screaming, gripped with pure terror.

----------


## MrAbdiel

Damien breathed his frustration out in a single, long breath through the nose.

"Alright.  That's all we can do to that problem, for now.  I think in the interim, we might start gathering some understanding about the False Face Society.  We're very much in the dark about Sionis's murderous little cult; they had no presence at all until they showed up at the ball we happened to be casing and sawed through half of Falcone's goons; not to mention a great deal of innocents.  Kane and I got away with bloodlet, but our heads on; not for lack of Sionis's trying.  But from their furious back and forth, it's obvious he's also searching for Lord Dent.  If we're planning to kick out the Penguins and the Theives Guild in their present forms, we might be wise to get a leash this next blood-crazed contender for lunatic-king of the underworld, too.  Perhaps we could start be examining what remains of the Sionis family holdings."

----------


## Feathersnow

Now I cam keep Communications and transport up through missions, and walk over walls, the synergy I had with Scion was impressive on our last mission, even if it went sideways at the end.

----------


## Molan

_==The Heist ==_

*"Alright, well,"* said Barbara as the meeting was wrapping up. *"In that case, I'll spend the time getting some mage work done. Lord Wayne, mind if I use the facilities?"* she gestured to the extensive Arcane Laboratory in the cave.

Bruce nodded. *"Of course."*

*+++ INTERLUDE +++*

And with that, they adjourned. Spoiler and Robyn took their time to replenish any supplies they needed in the Batcave's armory, and set out into the city to make good on their mission. The following evening, Scion, Batwoman and Nightwing once again rode the Black Coach on the underbridge off of Wayne Island and into the city, and up to the Merchant's Quarter. Sandwiched between Old Gotham, Grant, North Point and the Queen's River, the Merchant's Quarter was filled with the palatial demesnes of the most powerful trade cartels in Gotham, and many of their owners. Anchoring the Merchant's southernmost corner was the Black Tower of House James itself, which loomed directly over the Coach as it whipped through Oldtown's shadowy backstreets on it's way inside.

It was tough getting anywhere near the Crafstmans' Guild Hall, even in the middle of the night; the Quarter was one of the safest neighborhoods in Gotham, and the perennial gangland warfare that dominated the bleakest nights rarely penetrated that far in. The Guilds had more than enough copper and silver to keep plenty of dangerous guards on patrol, which meant that driving the Dark Knight's signature heavy war wagon straight up to the gates wasn't feasible.

That didn't much stop the trio, however. They parked it in a back alley, and used a combination of Kate's psionics and Richard and Damien's incredible _ki_ centered abilities, scaled a towering nearby palisade with incredible and preternatural ease. Eventually, they were on top of the spired, crenelated rooftops of the Merchant's Quarter, bounding along from one rooftop to the next, unseen by those inside the structures and the guards and faerie fire lamps below.

Even _then,_ it was legitimately hard to get close to the Guild Hall. The area was surrounded by an open plaza, itself semi-protected by one of Gotham's classic wrought iron fences, complete with overly stylized gates, and that was surrounded by large streets on all sides. The complex was massive; big, elaborate and expensive buildings with arching stained glass windows, housing the Guild's accountants, taskmasters, deal makers and power brokers. There was nothing particularly interesting about most of the activity outside; the three Knights stood perched on the nearest available vantage point, a massive gothic clock tower complete with hissing gargoyles at each corner -- a perch that had almost been custom made just for them. For a while, it was beginning to look like the mission would be a bust, unless they wanted to breach the complex itself. 

But it would ultimately be Richard, who spotted what they were looking for first.

*"I'll be damned."* he hissed from his perch behind Damien.

*"What is it? I don't see anything."*

*"That's because your powers of observation are far inferior to mine, little squire."*

*"Oh, for fug's sa--"*

*"Ah--at-ta-ta-ta-ta. Calm down little brother. Up there, along the top of the main hall, there's a crenelated walkway running around the perimeter of the big sloping roof."*

Damien squinted, and squinted some more, seeing nothing...until....

*"I see them."* Kate, maddeningly, calling on her experience as a long range guerilla in her past life, beat him to it. *"They're hard to see because they blend into the roof. Black masked soldiers, wearing heavy armor and carrying magical crossbows. The Craftsman's Guild isn't as independent as they seem."*

Damien looked as hard as he could; ultimately, it was the magical crossbows that gave them away. Every so often, the feint glow from the runes along the crossbows' hafts would glint in the moonlight, and from there he was able to see the dark thugs. Down below, there was no sign of them; the sellswords on the street level were well dressed, with checkered red and black tabards and silvery armor, demonstrating their loyalty to their bosses. There was no outward sign of Sionis' presence at all -- _except_ on that rooftop.

*"So, they've got the Craftsmans' Guild."* Richard said. *"That means Sionis' power still runs deep in this city, despite his House being technically destroyed and him being persona non grata. He's more dangerous than we thought."*

*"Could he be in there, right now?"*

*"Maybe, maybe not. But we'll need more firepower to break into this place -- or more magic. We need evidence. The best way to crack this nut is with the Justicars and the Legion, frankly. There is one other place we can look, though."*

If Gotham's nobility and architecture had a flare for the ghoulish, they somehow had _nothing_ on what was left of House Sionis. The Manor, or more specifically, Sionis Manor, was located one neighborhood up, in Grant. After returning to the Coach and taking it further north, they managed to find it. Once again, they couldn't get near -- the Justicars had cordoned off several blocks in order to keep people away from the place, and their red and blue flashing _lanterns of flashing lights_ were more than enough to identify the advance of the Coach. They parked it in the shadows and took a high arcane monorail track on foot through a couple of winding palace towers before reaching a place where they could see Sionis Manor themselves.

The place had been hideous in life. Great grinning skulls decorated the outer gate, which was buttressed by a dark stone wall, not an iron one. A sloping hill advanced up through once-manicured gardens to reach the heavily fortified manor itself, which featured as it's centerpiece, over the great door, a great black skull of it's own. The place had only gotten worse looking in time -- it'd clearly been consumed by flames, it's already grim facade blackened and cracked, and there were no signs of life anywhere.

*"One of the richest families in the city...just. Gone."* Damien almost sounded impressed.

*"Who do you think did this?"*

*""I mean, Sionis, right?""*

*"Yea...but why would...or did...he destroy his own House?"*

*"Dunno...but there's no way he could run his operation from out of there."*

*"Yea...still. Kind of wish there weren't so many Justicars here. Would be nice to get inside, take a look around."*

*+++ THE RUNDOWN - Inside the Batcave +++*

The trio gave up their pursuit for the night and retired back to Wayne Castle. The following evening, they gathered once again in the Cave, at the great darkwood table, the mood tense. Spoiler and Robyn were the last to arrive, sauntering into their chairs as they finally returned to their compatriots.

*"Well,"* said Bruce. *"Did you find what we needed?"*

*"Oh..."* Stephanie said, her voice trailing off for a moment as though surprised. *"Oh...HELLS yea we did!"*

Robyn began humming; it was a pleasant but urgent undulating tune. Yet as she sang, a prestidigitation began to take place above the table, flashing images of the city itself before their eyes. Spoiler began to lay out what they knew and what they needed to do, and as she did so, the random images began to come into focus, showing them in real time moving pictures of what they would be facing and what Spoiler was describing.

*"Okay, here's the deal. First off, Kyself Velnire's one scary dude. He's gotta have a hundred, maybe two hundred soldiers and enforces crawling around Midtown. Kind of explains why he's so hard to dislodge. BUT! Here's the thing -- those guys...they're low level scrubs. Pick pockets, street toughs. They don't get to go to the Guild House, that's high society."*

The image swept to Gotham Village, where some of the nicer, older buildings were huddled together down picturesque streets. *"Finding that was tough. We interrogated some of the lesser scrubs, and nothing. But then, the Kyles came and helped us out."* The image showed two female rogues, laughing on top of what looked like an empty bar, ale bottles in their hands. *"They told us about who Kysel's personal crew is. Some of them are folk you know, some of them ain't. He's got Padfoot, sure. Murdering little halfling barely anyone has ever seen. But he's not Velnire's top operator; he's also got another halfling named Nyx; one of the best burglars in the city. Kyles have actually been trying to recruit her, but it's a tough business."* as she spoke, faces started to come into focus.

*"There's also those two you ran into at the Jinx. Allegra and Johnny. They're good. And they're close to Falcone too; they've each wracked up some pretty impressive scores. But that's not even how we found the place. See, the rogues, they're hard to track. The good ones anyway. But the Kyle's let us know a little something about Velnire. Remember all those whacked witches and rogue magi he let out of Arkham back when he put the hit on the Dents?"*

The room went quiet. Spoiler was enjoying her triumph, but clearly everyone remembered darkly what had happened to House Dent.

*"Yea, turns out he didn't cut em loose after all. He kept them on, and they're in his crew. And those mad hatters -- they're easy as all the hells to track."*

The image swapped back again to the picturesque street, and this time, a specific storefront.

*"This clothier's shoppe is fancy, but it's a front. It's used to hide up the Guild House, and we know this because Kysel's lunatic evil wizards pop in and out of their all the damned time -- way too often, really. So the Kyle's noticed em and followed em and then we had a lead. All we had to do, was find out what's inside.*

The prestidigitation shifted again, this time to a fat nobleman's neck, as Robyn and Spoiler interrogated him.

*"This bloke was almost too easy to catch. Comes from an old noble family but he's just a scummy merchant. He went into that Clothier's and didn't come out for six hours. We figured he wasn't just buying new frocks. Sure enough, he was bought up by the Thieves Guild, and he told us what we'd find inside.*

*"Which is?"* said Richard, sounding intrigued.

*"Kysel's Guild House. See, the Clothiers, it's only a few rooms up front. There's a whopping one changing room filled with mirrors, and inside there, once the curtain's closed, those who know how can get past one of the mirrors and into the House. That's only a few rooms too -- the complex is built into a larger structure, but it's mostly where these thugs hang out and store their loot. The top level, behind the mirror, that's sort of the lounge, and it's where Kyself keeps the Eye of Ymir; usually there's music playing a lot of days, and they serve drinks. He keeps it in plain sight, so he can show it off to all of his bought cronies. But below that, there's a darker place. That's where his illegal wizards hang out, and they practice all their black and twisted arts. The Kyels think there's at least five of them, and they're blood curdlingly dangerous. Thing is, their little layer below the Guild House raises an opportunity."*

Before she got to say it, Bruce cut her off. *"The rogue magi's level is below the street level."*

*"Exactly."* said Spoiler, as the image changed to a series of tunnels. *"We could break in through the front -- but even if we go without our adventuring gear visible, they're gonna know we're not on the guestlist. If we go in through the front, we're going in loud."*

*"But..."* said Richard cautiously. *"If we go in through the sewer tunnel below, we can go in quietly."*

*"And pick the rogue magi off one by one, and break up into the Lounge, steal the diamond, and get out as quick as ya like."* she finished, triumphantly.

*"So, that's the question then."* said Bruce. *"Do we want to go in loud, or do we want to go in quiet?"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"Quiet."  Damien answers at once; with a tone that suggests he presumes to answer for everyone  "None of us wants to ring the doorbell and fight five mages, three high-ranking Theives Guild Lieutenants, one trained assassin and however many rank and file goons come flooding in after.  We go in quiet; we see how many of the mages we can put down before there is any kind of ruckus; and if we're lucky, get all the way to the gem and sneak out.  If we get made halfway in, atleast we'll have a headstart on what we would have gotten going in the front door."

----------


## JbeJ275

Barbara slowly nods in agreement with Damien. "With the right preperations, and if the mages in that lower room are focused on experimenting with their magic rather than layering defensive preperations we should be able to clear them out relitively quickly. Provided we all act as one that is... one more thing though, I don't suppose you came across any information, or even rumours on what offensive spells Velnire tends to use most often? Such things can often be proactively countered if they're known of in advance, and it can turn a fight strongly in out favour. Give us another much needed advantage."

*Spoiler: Nightmare*
Show



"Oh come on, they're not that scary. You've already killed each of them once after all, though I suppose neglect won't quite to it as a weapon before. Let's see what weapons we do have then. Shall we?"

And so the form proceeded to the cache of weapons, pulling at first a great mass of blades out that it casually threw over its shoulder, then after an especially deep rummage. "Ah here's the best weapon you've wielded so far." It spoke pulling out Tetch's lifeless body. "But I fear it's not a in a good state to wield you or be wielded any more. Perhaps there is another way out of this though, where you don't need to face the weapons of the mod, either in this world above or the many hells below. Would you like that Bullock?"

----------


## Molan

Stephanie thought about it for a few moments. Robyn stopped her humming, and the images she'd conjured faded away.

*"Mmmmm...no, specific spells I don't think so. But I do know some things. First off, this lot...they're bad news. Far as I can tell they've only gotten worse since they got out of Arkham, not better. One of them is for sure a necromancer,"* Oracle nearly choked on the water she was drinking as Stephanie spoke. Necromancy was, of course, deeply dangerous and blatantly illegal. *"Oh, buckle up..."* Spoiler said, suddenly looking nervous. Oracle knew more about magic than she did -- the reaction wasn't positive. *"That one's a man...three of them women, and they're absolutely batsh!t -- no offense Lord Wayne. There's one we heard about that's got everyone nervous, they just call her 'the witch', but she's apparently really good at terrorizing folks, sometimes to extreme degrees. Sometimes to death. The other two, best I can tell they're the type that like to meddle with hellfire and demons and the lower planes, all that. Really really dark stuff."*

*"Why the hells would the Thieves Guild Underboss keep such dangerous arcanists around?"* Alfred wondered outloud.

*"Because, they work."* said Bruce darkly. He looked far off, brooding, like he was only half with them. *"You saw what he was able to accomplish with the Dents, Alfred. One rogue arcanist, in the right place, the right time, with the right circumstances -- can change the balance of power in the whole city. Hell, even the Empire or the world. If these magi are as unstable as we think they are, a top operator like Velnire has probably learned how to...mostly...control them. He uses them to entrench his power in the way normal cutthroats and sneak-thieves can't. We need to be extremely cautious."*

He looked up at the table.

*"Do any of you need any additional resources or preparations before this job?"*

*Spoiler: Bullock*
Show

Bullock crawled backwards on the floor, like a crab, moving as quickly as he could away from the floating corpse. *"Tha--that wasn't me! I didn't do nothing to the gnomes! I don't know how it got there!*

_Oh, that sounds familiar, doesn't it? How many people have you thrown away that've said the exact same thing?_

*"I didn't do nothing! It wasn't me! Just tell me what you want, y-you can have it. Alright!? Just tell me what you want and leave me alone!!"*

----------


## MrAbdiel

"If we're communicating telepathically, then it might be worth working up a silence spell or... charm, or potion for Kane.  Correct me if I'm wrong, Kane, but you're not required to vocalize for your psionics.  Your ability to warp around right up into the faces of enemy casts with a globe of silence around you might be extremely effective.  My only fear with that thought is that these are Theives Guilders - they specialize in sneak-attacks to maximize damage to their targets, which means they'd be lunatics not to have a potion of invisibility in the belt, ready to go.  And being caught in a silent zone against an invisible opponent is... very bad."

----------


## Molan

*"On that note, though, any dispelling spell would probably also be useful,"* Bruce added. *"If we're lucky, we could dispel first and silence after. If the sorcerer's are truly unprepared for our attack that might be enough."*

----------


## JbeJ275

"Hmmmm, had I known this was the fundamental plan earlier I might have been able to make further accommodations for controlling invisible enemies, but as is we might just have to focus on hitting them before they can hit back to buy us the maximum possible advantage. As for dispelling I mean to be ready for the eventuality, but it's a fundamentally risky course of action, often failing to target the most important magic going on. I also have an alternate way of manifesting telepathy, depending on what exactly our needs are there."

*Spoiler: Bullock*
Show


"Funny that you should ask such a thing little one, right now the fact that you did this, and the slow spread of that knowledge is your most valuble asset. But you've asked me a question and I'll answer it in turn. A gotham prison, or the justicar offices, none will keep you safe from the hand of those you've wronged. But if you turn over a few little tibits, just enough that the rest of the network you've been building along the justicars can be sent right to the pits of Blackgate, and enough that I can use proof of the great Bullock's indiscretions to add a feather to the cap of my own new singing bird within the justicar's ranks. If you give me that, I can send you somewhere quite safe from your old troubles, somewhere that might yet give you enough remaining years to climb a few yards further from the canter of the pit. Will you do that, or shall I send you to meet your your old employer tonight?"

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show


Intimidate with divine guidance is 32 if I may take 10.

----------


## Molan

Bruce rapped his knuckles on the table, satisfied. 

*"Alright, tomorrow, we hit the Velnire Guild House. The Midtown Thieves will be gutted, and we can target any thugs who try to move into the power vacuum left behind. Lady Kyle will give us back that amulet, and then you can move onto your next objective."*

He stood up, making a motion to move towards the exit.

*"Prepare yourselves. Meet back here at 8pm tomorrow night. It's time to show Gotham they have a reason to hope again."*

The party did prepare, and they returned at 8 o'clock as requested, armed, armored, and ready to set out on their mission. But when they approached the Black Coach, they found that Bruce wasn't there. Sir Pennyworth was, in his stead.

*"I'm...terribly sorry, my friends. But I'm afraid Lord Wayne...got called away, by another emergency. He won't be going with you tonight. But he asked me to ensure that you moved on with your mission regardless...this is too important not to finish now."*

Damien had more than a few protests, and Barbara and Kate both huffed at the Dark Knight's apparent recurring flakiness, but Alfred was right. The mission had to go on.

*"I'll drive the coach to the block near Velnire's 'store'. We can enter the sewers below there, and we should be able to find our way to the underground portion of the Guild House that way. Spoiler, Robyn, can you two stay in the Coach and keep it ready in case we need to make a quick egress?"*

Stephanie smirked. *"No problem. I wasn't super eager to go crawling through the Gotham Sewers anyway."* Robyn looked similarly, if not more relieved.

With their plan in front of them, the party was off, and the Coach screamed down the Underbridge and back into Midtown. The streets in Gotham Village were cramped, but Richard eventually pulled the Coach up near an area that looked like it had once been a small part, but was now falling into deep disrepair. At one of end of the park was a large culvert -- large enough for Nightwing, Batwoman, Scion and Oracle to climb inside, and into the darkness of the Gotham tunnels below.

*"Alright,"* he said, taking out a hooded lantern with a red glass plate cover to help them find their way in the pitch darkness. *"Let's steal a diamond."*

*Spoiler: Bullock*
Show

*"All...alright. Alright! Just tell me what you want!! I'll tell you anything! You want to know who was taking bribes for the gnomes?! That's only a couple guys, I was their main contact. What else, what are you looking for???"*


*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Okay, let me know your marching orders. Who's going through the tunnels first, what actions do you guys take, how are you going to try to navigate to the hideout / find it's underground access point, and how would you like to proceed at intersections?

----------


## Molan

Oracle cast her _arcane sight_ to begin scanning, and they began looking at their surroundings. There were three exits from the culvert chamber; northwest, east, and south. There was another chamber immediately after the one they were in, with still more branches reaching out of it. The Guild House's front store was north of where they'd entered the sewer, but in the pitch blackness it was extremely difficult to see much of where anything went after that.

There were no immediate threats in either area; it seemed logical that the Thieves sorcerers might have trapped some of the areas closer to their den, but there was no immediate problem.

*"Northwest seems the most obvious passage,"* said Nightwing. *"But it's hard to tell if any of these tunnels double back or dead-end."*

----------


## JbeJ275

In addition to arcane sight, Oracle began to wreathe herself in divinations or other spells, and re-equip the ring of counter spells with another dispel magic loaded within. First came _Mage Armour_, then a surrounding of _Stars of Arvandor,_ with _Listening Lorecall_ being relied on to steer her forward and _Protection fro Chaos_, _Detect Thoughts_ and _Detect Secret Doors_. Further being layered on top was a draught from a _Potion of Resistance (+5)_.

Once done with these preparations she crept forward through the tunnels, magical experimentation was rarely quiet and she hoped to be able to tell which passage carried sounds from the enemy lair the loudest.

*Spoiler: Roll*
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(1d20+17)[*23*] for Listen and I'll take 10 for a 28 on move silently.




*Spoiler: Bullock*
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"Why now you're getting the idea, just a few more things. I worry about the others who might have reason to play for the hearts of you and your men, and might look for my heart should I discard you, and there are costs in putting you outside of both my reach and theirs. You had masters then who still live now, and all the citities knows the names of the true masters. I'd take the names of the kennel masters who keep their privately brought bloodhounds in order, as well as the hounds and lawmen who they feed. If you would be so kind perhaps as to share what you know of when and where they pamper their hounds, that too would be greatly appreciated."

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## Feathersnow

Kate keeps in contact by telepathy,  ready to teleport in if necessary.

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## MrAbdiel

Damien keeps close behind Grayson.  Having downed a potion of _Longstrider_ to keep up with these long legged folk, he doesn't slow them down; but isn't eager to fumble into one of the Theives' Guild's terrible traps.  He is even more sneaky than usual, the skin around his eyes blacked with kohl paste; the tiny elements of shine on hits and scabbards and buckles on his haversack dulled and hidden.  He has prepared his normal layout of shuriken; though some have been exchanged in their places on his person.  Four with drow poison, two with purple worm; and two of each cold iron and alchemical silver, in speculative preparation for fiendish opponents.

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Marching order looks like Grayson, Damien, Gordon, with Kane bringing up the rear and capable of teleporting to the front and acting first anyway.  Here's a listen and spot roll, if they help! *Listen* - (1d20+18)[*33*]; *Spot* - (1d20+3)[*14*].

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## Molan

With Nightwing leading the way, the party made their way into the next chamber, which was grim and foul, but empty. There were several other paths outward, and Nightwing slowly crept into the northern one. About halfway up the next passage, which was incredible narrow, he shuttered the red lantern, and turned around, raising one finger to his lips to silence the crew. He inspected the channel near their feat, raising it a moment later, and ushering Oracle forward.

Expecting to see some standard sewer filth on Sir Richard's hands, Oracle instead viewed a strange black viscous substance; it was clearly arcane in origin, but it didn't indicate any specific spell. 

*"Black Pudding residue."* Richard whispered. *"The sewers are lousy with Oozes. Arcane polution from the city above makes it constant. We need to move slow."*

Sure enough, a few more dozen feet up the tunnel, they could hear -- but struggled to see -- the bubbling, slinking, shivering noise of the oozes passing by. The party remained deathly silent, letting what seemed like an entire river of inky black slime slither by in the channel before Richard eventually gestured them forward again. 

As they moved into the channel the Puddings had passed through, they cut east for a few feet, then the passage turned north again; beyond the turn was a simple iron door.

*"Not a lot of need for doors in the sewer tunnel,"* Richard whispered. *"That's gotta be a good sign."* As he spoke, Nightwing noticed something on the adjacent wall, and leaned in close, running his fingers over a specific brick.

*"What was that?"* Damien asked. For a moment, only silence answered him. Then;

*"Nothing, don't worry about it. Just thought I saw something odd. Anyway, we're not quite there, but we've gotta be really close to the lair. We get past whatever's on the other side of this door, should be a straight shot."*

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Party is entitled to Spot, Search, Listen, and Sense Motive checks. If you want to pass through the door into the next chamber, just say so, but if you want to take any other actions, they're entitled here.

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## MrAbdiel

Satisfied that they are not being followed or pursued - not by anything that makes noise, anyway, Damien's attention remains outward while Nightwing makes his inspection of the door and its surrounding bricks.

"You're right that an obvious door seems out of place.  Back in their guild hall, the important chambers were hidden, or obscured by multiple false doors all of which were trapped."  He makes a move as if to step into the wall - but then, in an apparently concious arrest of that unilateral movement, he stops, and explains himself before hand.

"I'm going to pass through the wall and witness what's on the other side; then return.  It's... a skill I have recently acquired."

He even gives his allies a moment to object!  What grace!

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## JbeJ275

Barbara's eyes flit briefly to Damien as me mentions his plans, with her peering at the doorway looking for signs of magic or traps and letting her divinations pass over the area before eventually deciding it's clear.

"Just make sure not to stay hidden. I can't point out what in there will detect you, or trap you and if this goes loud this early I'm leaving now and dealing with this on my own later."

She's giving Damien a very flat look, but not voicing any true objection to his plan.

When the child leaves she turns to Sir Greyson, and speaks softly, getting close to him and hoping Kate won't hear all of it.

"Look, if there's personal business here you can say it's personal business and I won't push you on that, but this is a bad time to start lying to people and if it's at all related to the mission I need to know now."

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## MrAbdiel

With the barest modicum of courtesy (which he thinks of as great forbearance) repaid with bluntness, Damien scoffs... and then with a whisper of smoke, vanishes from view!

*Spoiler: OOC:*
Show

Ethereal!  Depending on what Ethereal Damien sees in the next room around him, he will make a decision about how to end his turn - returning to the other side of the door, or manifesting inside!

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## Molan

Greyson whispered back to Oracle as Scion vanished through the wall past the iron door.

*"Listen, I'm sorry. It's not about the mission. That sigil is the mark of the League of Shadows. It's a band of stealthy fanatics and cutthroats who tried to destroy Gotham years ago. Bruce managed to crush them and kill their leader; I actually started working with him not long after that, as the first 'Robin'. 

I saw that marking and it just...it made me pause, I guess. I didn't want to worry you all. The League long gone -- the survivors are all either locked up in Arkham or fled back to their homeland. And I'm pretty sure they had markings like that throughout Gotham's lower levels from back when they were active. That sigil is probably years and years old. I don't know. It was just starting to see, I guess."*

Oracle frowned.

*"Arkham? Not Blackgate Fortress? Why would they be in the Witch's Asylum? What would the Inquisition even care?"*

Sir Richard chuckled.

*"Well, the League are all considered Heretics, for one thing. They defame the 'True Twelve's pretty openly. But beyond that most of their members have a modicum of arcane power. Bruce was unique in that way; he doesn't carry the Mark at all. Any supernatural abilities he has are either from his equipment or gifted from St. Cuthbert, just like Questor. But the Asylum was happy to have them. Hate to think of what's happened to them since."*

While Oracle and Nightwing spoke, Damien passed through the wall and into the next room. The following room was large, round, and devoid of decoration.
 It had no other visible exits. It was shaped like a large stone dome, and was unlit.

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## MrAbdiel

With such a suspicious lack of features and only seconds to consider his options, Damien slides back through the wall and assembles from smoke in the midst of his companions again, eyes fixed forward, suspicious, toward the door.

"An empty chamber beyond; blank and with no obvious exit or feature or fixture.  The kind of domed chamber one might flood with gas or some other trap.  I fear it is a false entrance only, meant to trick interlopers into scrabbling at blank walls hoping to find a secret way out.  Are you certain that our destination is located _beyond_ this room?  If so... I recommend we remove this door from its hinges, before we risk being contained within."

His hands go to his tools, looking toward the door's lock.  But then he looks down, to the trapdoor pointed out by Grayson on his earlier search.  _"Unless the way through is down."_

Crouching, he works at securing the trap door's swing-gates.  A typical trapdoor features a 'lid' held up by a soft wooden dowel or line of thread broken when pressure is applied so the stepper falls through to spikes, or what ever is below; Damien seeks to secure the door so that he can ease it open without it banging anywhere and, perhaps, drawing the attention of slimes.

*Spoiler: OOC!*
Show

Disable Device Take-a the 10 for 22!

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## Molan

Nightwing furrowed his brow, looking perplexed.

*"Really? No other exit? I'm sure this has to be it...is there possibly a secret door you just didn't notice?"*

Damien shook his head as he worked, and Richard shrugged. *"Ah well. Try the trap door I guess."*

Damien managed to get the trapdoor open without the lid banging all the way down to the bottom. The opening in the floor was pitch black; there was very little light down here, and even Nightwing's red-lensed lantern didn't cast any meaningful insight into the hole.

*"Hard to tell how far down that goes."* he observed.

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## MrAbdiel

> Nightwing furrowed his brow, looking perplexed.
> 
> *"Really? No other exit? I'm sure this has to be it...is there possibly a secret door you just didn't notice?"*
> 
> Damien shook his head as he worked, and Richard shrugged. *"Ah well. Try the trap door I guess."*
> 
> Damien managed to get the trapdoor open without the lid banging all the way down to the bottom. The opening in the floor was pitch black; there was very little light down here, and even Nightwing's red-lensed lantern didn't cast any meaningful insight into the hole.
> 
> *"Hard to tell how far down that goes."* he observed.


"There could absolutely be secret doors within; I had only the veil of realms to peer through, and only for a few seconds.  But there were no hanging mirrors, or sconces, or rugs, or the normal clues villains like this use to hide the mechanisms of their secret doors.  If there had been an illusion, I may have overlooked it."

When the trapdoor opens and presents a pit, not a sneaky curved pipe leading to an obvious safehouse, Damien frowns.  It was worth the check, anyway.  "Hm.  Well, for the sake of thoroughness.  Swap."  Damien reaches for the red-eye lantern from Grayson's hand; offering in exchange the looped end of Damien's Rod of Ropes; before the black-clad child hops into the pit and begins to abseil swiftly down its depth; just to see what manner of suffering awaits those who fall this way.  Perhaps he'll find a clue on an impaled corpse below - or perhaps nothing at all.  Either way, without a ticking clock aggressively driving them on and no indication they have been yet discovered, it's a minute's diversion he thinks they can afford.

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## JbeJ275

"You missed it. Oracle says to Damien as she turns to consider the door. Its around 50ft in, and concealed but without any protection from divinations. Lets get back in there and I can get us past it, and dont waste time down the pit, these divinations dont last forever.  

When they re-enter the room Oracle will examine the rest of the space for any other secret doors, then spend another few seconds to use her divination to determine the mechanism or trigger for one particular secret portal she closely examines.

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## Feathersnow

_I'm coming down, there doesn't seem much point in burning more of my reserves to stay in reserve_

With that, Kate warps into place near Oracle.

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## Molan

Richard furrowed his brow, looking uncomfortably back and forth between Damien and Oracle, trying to determine which path to side with. Eventually, his expression broke.

*"Sorry little brother. If the next room doesn't pan out, we can always come back. Let's follow Oracle's advice and scan the chamber."*

He looked between Oracle and Damien, balancing his words.

*"Since the trap is disarmed, can one of you open the door? Or should I try?"*

Damien scowled. *"I'll do it."* 

Damien managed to get the old rusted lock opened, and the party proceeded into the next chamber. A huge mirror, 15 feet wide and 7 feet tall, suddenly and abruptly appeared where the wall opposite the door used to be. Four figures materialized in front of itfigures that looked identical to the party. "Kate" was there, her back to the mirror, bedecked in the exact same glamoured gothic black plate mail, a dark cloak flowing behind her, and her scowling, bat-eared helm glaring back at them. She carried a halberd in her hand -- which wasn't exactly right, the party's Kate was armed with a heavy poleaxe -- but otherwise the resemblance was perfect. Damien was there too, black gi and all, the same haughty, self-possessed sneer on his face that the youngest Wayne often wore. Facsimiles of Nightwing and Oracle were there too, their hooded and masked faces revealing only a dark glare in their eyes.

There was a moment of sort of stunned silence and joint recognition, as the two groups of Dark Knights sized each other up. Then, the four mirrored versions began to march forward, slowly but purposefully. "Kate" slammed the metal base of her polearm down onto the stone floor twice as they advanced, causing it to ring through the cavernous space, and then she gripped it firmly in each fist. "Richard" and "Damien" each uncorked potions (each vial looked different from the other) and tossed them back, drinking up the contents. "Barbara" began chanting and moving her hands.

The facsimiles began to advance faster.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Everyone gets a Spot check.

Roll for initiative!

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## Molan

Nightwing sprang into action first, sprinting, then leaping into the air, jamming a heel forward as he did so in an elegant, spinning flying kick. Damien could almost sense a feint burst of _ki_ energy radiate out from the source of Greyson's strike, and his double went flying backwards, clearly winded by the force of the blow, while Richard landed gracefully on the ground, as if he'd rehearsed the whole thing for cinematic effect.

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn. Nightwing uses a Ki to take Ironfist to a Flying Kick charge!

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## MrAbdiel

"...Some kind of trick.  How could the theives-"

But it's too late; trick or not, the battle is on; and as the dopplegangers advance, Damien is forced to spring into action on his own.  Grayson picks his opposite number for contest; but Damien is less concerned by his own copy than he is by this simulacrum of Oracle.  The real one already despises him - how deep must be the vault of this one's contempt?

While Nega-Oracle begins drawing together her magics, Damien blitzes to the side of the room, draws and flings gleaming _birdarang_ toward her.  As it blows past and begins its return path to him, he performs his trademark manoeuvre and snaps out of being in a puff of smoke.

Drawing his short sword in the smoky ethereal other-realm, he kept his eyes fixed on Nega-Scion.  If this duplicate had anything like his own mastery of his blood, he was not beyond its assault, even here.

*Spoiler: OOC: It's Scion Tiome!*
Show

Birdarang at Nega-Oracle.  She hasn't acted yet, so she ought to be Flat-Footed- though if that's not the case, I'll ever so slightly adjust my actions without requing any rerolls.

(1d20+16)[*18*], including the +2 for the magic weapon and the -2 for a range increment, throwing from 20ft.On a hit, the weapon itself does (1d2+2)[*3*] magical slashing damage, plus (5d6)[*20*] Sudden Strike Damage, and triggers a DC13 Fortitude Save Vs Poison or fall unconcious.

Damien moves (drawing his sword into his left hand), throws shuriken with right, swift action to go Ethereal. Ends turn in the Ethereal Plane.

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## Molan

Scion's birdarang struck true, drawing forth a stream of blood where it slasher "Oracle", and eliciting a snarl of angry pain from the spellcaster.

"Damien", the real Damien's mirror opposite, drew a short sword of his own, and, moving nearly too fast to watch with the naked eye, swung up behind Nightwing and attempted to hamstring him with the sword. Richard was too quick for him however, and avoided the strike entirely. Unfortunately, "Nightwing" recovered from the roundhouse kick Richard had given him, and swung a heavy quarterstaff at him several times. One end of the bo swung past Richard's chin, and he dodged it before getting clocked. But his facsimile swung the staff around and cracked it against his chest, connecting in a painful direct hit.

Across the room, "Oracle" finished chanting, but as shadow magic burst forth from her hands, she faltered, and the energies of whatever spell she'd been casting abruptly dissipated. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Kate's turn, then Barbara's.

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## Feathersnow

Kate takes a step back and manifests Concealing Amorpha linked to Force Screen.  She then bends time to act immediately.  Her force screen resolves and she bursts forward to charge the fake Damien! Relatively sure the image is some kind of construct and not a real child, she disengage the merciful enhancement on her poleaxe!

*Spoiler: combat*
Show


(1d20+14)[*15*] to hit

(2d6+8)[*15*] damage, if successful

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## JbeJ275

Barbaras eyes slid quickly over the room, using her Arcane sight to try and identify whatever powerful magic source was responsible for such an effect, should any powerful auras emerge in her arcane sight she races towards them, brings out a scroll of identify and attempts to determine the exact rules for whatever magic is going on here.

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## Molan

Oracle's eyes flashed blue, and she scanned the room, but was immediately disappointed, and puzzled. There were actually startlingly few magical auras in the room _at all._ She could detect the faintest whiffs of divine power having dissipated off of Damien and Richard when they'd summoned their _ki,_ and she could see the dark, swirling, virtigo-inducing vortex of psionic power hurtling around Kate -- psionics and arcana didn't mix, and Oracle tried not to look at her for too long.

But the mirror wasn't magical, at all. As best she could tell it was only there for show -- if it had another purpose, it wasn't magical, and she couldn't deduce what that was. There _were_ some auras on their enemies, but they weren't particularly strong. Her own hostile double was clearly an arcanist, and, judging by what she could see from it's aura and spellcasting style, not a rogue one. (She was surely a criminal, but she wasn't practicing witchcraft or sorcery or anything like that). 

The facsimiles of Richard and Damien weren't wearing magical auras _at all_, which was particularly strange. Kate's doppelganger however had a moderate transmutation aura over her, and the "Oracle" facing her had a feint illusion aura over _her._ It was also hard not to mistake the shadowy contrails of an illusion spell she'd been preparing before Damien struck her.

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## Molan

Frustrated by the results of her scan, Oracle summoned some shadow magic of her own, and became invisible.

"Batwoman" decided to join the fray, charging forward to lock pole arms with the real Kate. She brought her halberd down in a brutal overhead swing, but Kate was able to parry it expertly, averting any trouble. Kate was struck with a whiff of sulfur as the two weapons clanged against each other, and felt an unnatural heat crawl across her skin.

Meanwhile, the two Nightwings continued to spar. Whoever Sir Richard's true facsimile was, even armed with a quarterstaff to his bare fists, they were no match, he knocked away another brutal two handed swing from the bo, then followed up with a combination of strikes, first a chop to his double's neck, then a brutal body blow with his fist, then an elbow to the temple, before finally kneeing him in the diaphragm. It was far, _far_ too much for the double to take, and he collapsed in a heap, unconscious. 

*Spoiler: OOC*
Show

Damien's turn!

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