[Game #1] Hempel's and Stanilus' Thread

[Landifarne]

Hempel moves quickly to the back of the garden house, staying within what shadows he can find and being as quiet as possible. Looking past the barn- in the general direction of the main gate and guardhouse, the thief briefly observes a house guard walking his dog near the southern portion of the pond. Thinking himself safe, the erstwhile tailor moves around the eastern side of the building (where two of the house's shuttered windows are located, the others being on the western side- and in brighter lighting)...only to catch a glimpse of a scullery maid standing outside the manor house's front door, some 80' away and smoking a pipe. The woman glances Hempel's way...

Stanilus observes Hempel hesitate at the bottom of the wall, and freezes at the top- trying to avoid making any noise. Seeing his new acquaintance (Tailor? This man is a tailor!?) dash towards the back of the building, the Varner drops down as silently as possible...

Pulp: Throw percentile dice twice, once each for MS and HiS respectively. The HiS roll gains a bonus of +40% due to the relative darkness (night time), However, the presence of the canine reduces any MS bonus Hempel would gain from the guard being so far away. Hemp is OK as long as he succeeds on one roll.

Pyro: Roll an agility check (less than or equal to your DEX score).

[PyroArrow]

Agility Check for Stanilus: [3d6] = 13 Dexterity=17

[Pulpatoon]

Move Silently 10%
Move Silently: [1d100] = 23

Hide in Shadows 5% (+40%) = 45%
Hide in Shadows:[1d100] = 40

Phew! Made it!

I realize now that I overloaded two of Hempel's skills (Climbing & Locks) at the expense of others.This mistake will probably kill us all. Whoops!

[Landifarne]

Hempel froze in place and narrowed his eyes so that they would reflect less light. Ever so quietly, the thief crept into the shadows of an adjoining tree in an effort to avoid the woman's notice...

...and, of course, Stanilus chose that exact moment to drop down. The fighter's landing seemed entirely too loud to the thief, but that may just been Hemp's nerves toying with him. Wincing, Hempel studied the maid further while he pulled the collar of his jacket up and drew his floppy hat down. This, in an effort to minimize his skin exposure...

It must have all worked, for the the maid eventually finished her pipe and ended her chat with the guard. Thankful, Hemp realized that the woman's pipesmoke must have also played havok on the dog's nose, for the canine didn't twitch once when its handler brought it only a hundred feet from the men's position. The guard and dog sauntered off a bit later.

By then, it was probably half a bell to eight.

Looking at the side of the garden house, Hempel saw two shuttered windows. Each was intricately wrought, but had a large vertical slit that likely had clearance for the blade of a slim knife. What was on the other side of each shutter the thief didn't know, but he reckoned that the windows were likely better prospects than being fully exposed to the rest of the compound while attempting the retreat's front door.

To his left, the thief heard Stanilus roll the blankets and fling their rope into the boughs of a tree. Knowing that if they were stash the covers along the building's rear wall the guard dog would sniff them out, the men had agreed to stash the blankets inside the "booger building."

"Now what?" Stanilus asked as soon as he had tramped up. Wearing expensive clothes, and holding a pile of blankets (rucksack on his back), the fellow probably resembled one of Sanblic's valets, Hemp decided.

Pulp, please double check your character's thieving ability %s. It didn't have any effect on your previous roll, but I tweaked them last week after you had posted everything [that's one of the strange things about moderating a forum, yo ucan edit posts without people knowing]. Go ahead and set them to what you want, adjusting them accordingly (sounds like you used the common 15% variance adjustment, which is fine).

[Ythgar]

Arkthren

At his table in the back, Arkthren looks around to see who is in the crowd, and if there is anyone from out of town.
Eventually he moves around the Hoof asking the local traders and craftsman if any of them have seen Pursic or Loryn tonight, and staying away from patrons who've clearly had too much too drink.

[Landifarne]

The Centaur's Hoof, Village of Rifford (Eighth Bell o' Noon)

Arkthren notices that it's an abnormally busy night at the Hoof, with a number of new faces to be seen...along with the normal assortment of characters.

Jenn was there, assistant to Albyn Mersson. It was a shame that Jenn had to work for the wealthy provisioner, whom everyone in Rifford hated. Arkthren's acquaintance (like most practitioners of the arts, the apprentice hernblist/mage didn't have many lasting friends...one of the reasons he felt few ties to the region) took the brunt of most peoples' complaints.

Raff and Klort were also in the taproom, enjoying a game of suffrance [Arkthren could never figure out the rules of that game...they seemed to switch every few minutes] with a couple farmers. The brewer's apprentices would probably lose a week's supply of brew to the savvy laborers.

And, there was Lord Sanblic and his retinue, of course. That nasty man was as likely to run a man of lower status through the heart with his longsword as take notice of the bloke. Everyone in the great room knew this, and a wide berth was given to that party.

Nearer at hand a few commoners and laborers spent their saved pennies on pots of ale, keeping warm near the fire and enjoying things when one of Eremil's doxies gave them the time of day. Luthyn Reevesman sat with them, and made the men a bit nervous with his presence.

And there, in the corner opposite Arkthren, was the Suevi sellsword...Sulara Erndis. That woman had come down from the north looking for adventure and opportunity. But with her thick accent and obvious northern complexion, most Fordians wouldn't tell the woman how many bells had passed since noon. Sulara had been hiring herself out as a guard over at the holding pens- and had been drinking away all of the money she was making, by the look of things. Not an angry person, apparently, but certainly not friendly looking.

Finally, Arhthren saw a face that was approachable- good ol' Borlun Fahrlain. Sitting near the fire and eating his evening meal, the burly procurer of hides and pelts was a good source of information and was always happy to swap stories with anyone willing to share a pot of ale. Arkthren had heard the man was in Rifford; probably coming down from Highwold or Ironforge and readying a shipment bound for Ostgall.

No sign of Loryn, or of Arkthren's cousin, Pursic.

Throw five 1d20s for me, and tell me what Arkthren does while waiting around.

[Pulpatoon]

Landi: Thanks for editing the thief skills. Those look like much more reasonable numbers. I'm still going to get us all killed. Just you wait.

Hempel pulls out his dagger and begins to work at the shuttered window. "Just like opening a little buttonhole," he says over his shoulder to Stanilus.

"We'll see if I can pop this open, and wriggle in. Wait for signal before you follow."

[PyroArrow]

Ok, will do!

Stanilus scans around the area for any signs of movement as he awaits Hemple's attempt to open the window & climb inside first.

[Landifarne]

Hempel quickly checked the two windows and decided that the one closer to the front of the building looked more promising (the other seemed to be leaning awkwardly in its frame and liable to fall off). Blithely sweeping his dagger up the shutter's crack, the Felderman met a bit of resistance right where a latch should have been and flipped it open. Feeling good to be in his element, Hempel then turned to Stanilus and gave the fellow smirking cock of the eye.

Stanilus looks around the corner of the small retreat and searches for any guards stealing upon them unexpectedly. Seeing nothing, he nods back to Hemp.

[Pulpatoon]

Hempel pulls himself over the sill and slides through the window. He drops to the floor in a crouch and remains still, taking in the interior.

[Landifarne]

Not having checked the front door, Hempel now admonishes himself- as the portal stands slightly ajar. Someone must have either failed to notice that it wasn't closed, or the thing won't stay shut. Likely the latter, Hemp thinks to himself as he notices that the floor is strewn with a few leaves...and dust. There is dust everywhere.

No one has used the room in quite while, Hempel realizes.

A threadbare, faded, and rat-gnawed rug covers much of the 10' x 15' room and, even from the little light that streams through the doorway and window, Hemp can tell that this mostrosity was once gaudy enough to fit the pleasure room of a Kyreni palace. The paintings on the walls and ceiling give that theory further credance, so it seems that Lord Sanblic's retreat was once a pleasure house.

Sitting on the rug forlornly is a dusty old table with a lamp set on top. Of decent construction, it is evident from the dust that has settled on it that the room now only saw an occassional visitor. Surrounding the table are a set of three similar chairs, each of their cushions having been eaten away by rats.

A sideboard leans against the southern wall, but it is completely bare. Sanblic must not have need for this place anymore, for it lacks even the most basic ammenities.

Situated directly opposite to the one the thief had just come in is another window; this one with a tattered curtain covering it. The only other thing in the chamber is a door on the southern wall. Unlike the front door to the place, this one is closed.

Map spoiler:

[Pulpatoon]

Hempel waves Stanilus in. "Watch the door, it's open. Make sure you don't step anywhere where you mighty be seen."

Hempel looks down at the floor. "Ducats to doughballs, we're going to need to take a look under that rug. Would you mind moving the lamp and chairs? I'll be back in a moment to help with the table." Hempel crosses over to the second door and inspects it.

[Ythgar]

Arkthren

Arkthren first heads over to Borlun, hoping too elicit some information from the trapper. He joins the man at his table and calls for another drink for Borlun. After spending some time with Borlun and hoping to have found out all that he could from him, Arkthren walks over to the table where Jenn was sitting and begins to make conversation. During the conversation, in a passing comment, Arkthren asks how business is going. After receiving his answer he asks for elaboration on the matter. Once this question is raised and the topic passed, he will continue the conversation for a couple minutes and then politely remove himself.

[1d20] = 14, [1d20] = 20, [1d20] = 12, [1d20] = 20, [1d20] = 3

[Landifarne]

Borlun is happy to pass some time with Arkthren and greets the apprentice warmly. Seeing that Arkthren pressed Eremil to send him a drink, the man winks and claps the herbalist assistant on the shoulder.

"Har. Thank, ye Ark, and thanks fer the tinc'shur the las time I saw ye! Tha' rash wen' away righ' fast. Nae more scratchin' i' me breeks!"

Pulling out a chair, Borlun motions Arkthren to have a seat and get's a bit serious...

"Ah, Ark, I saw tha' Reynard creepin' 'round th' other nigh'. Tha' fellow i' up t' no good, I tellin' ye," Borlun whispers, so that others couldn't overhear. "Bes' tell Mas'ser 'olcomb when ye see 'im. All 'ere know Reynar's foulness, an' I nay wan' th' mas'ser t' com' t' 'arm."

Arkthren continues to speak with amiable fellow for a while and manages to get another tidbit from the man- "Steadman Barlt seen a group o' men i' th' 'jorsalng las' week. He say th' trapper be chary t' go far into th' wood."

Thanking the trader for the information [particularly the remark about Raynard being in the region...his former superior was a sadistic and manipulative man at best; Arkthren couldn't allow him near Master Holcomb, especially after Reynard had threatened Holcomb before leaving the herbalist's service], Arkthren moved over to Jenn and shook the man's hand.

Appreciating the gesture, the apprentice provisioner livened up a bit and lowered the defensive aire that he normally kept. Responding to Arkthren's questions and comments, Jenn told Arkthren that food was becoming more expensive, and that a number of the region's bondi would likely starve come winter time. Signs were that the fall harvest would be poor.

While speaking with Jenn, Arkthren noticed that the Hoof's doors opened and a woman's slight form glided in. Shrouded in black clothing and a shawl that appeared very unkempt (it was covered in dirt and bits of leaves and twigs), nothing could be made of her face. But Arkthren noticed that several old timers spat near the woman when she came in- as if in an effort to ward off an evil spirit.

Arkthren searched his memory and couldn't place the woman's particular form of dress for nearly a minute. Then it struck him: the woman (girl?) was from the marshes some thirty miles to the west! One of those recluses had made her way to Rifford, for reasons known only to her. Intrigued, Arkthren forgot about his cousin for a while...

Everyone please welcome FreebirdFootbagging to the game! Freebird, go ahead and play this out...food, accomodations, etc. I'll get your intro spoiler up tomorrow.

[FreebirdFootbagging]

The woman walks to the barkeep, she receives the rude gestures of the old one's stoically, as she had already prepared herself for such treatment. When she reaches the the owner of the building she asks him politely, Good day sir, what sorts of food and drink might you sell here?

[Landifarne]

Stanilus sets his bundle of blankets down and glides over to the table. Looking at the lamp, he sees that it isn't screened and would make too much light if lit. It does hold a bit of oil, however.

Moving the chairs, and setting the lamp on the sideboard, the aspiring bard then waited for Hempel to finish his inspection of the interior door. Pulling at the carpet up in anticipation of moving it, a cloud of dust erupted and nearly caused the two men to choke and sneeze.

Repressing his body's responses, Hempel looked up in consternation and shot his new associate an obscene gesture...

Getting back to what he did best, the Felderman started his inspection anew. In the almost non-existant light he could barely make out the locking mechanism on the door, but through feel alone Hemp knew that it was of fairly simple design. Pulling out a couple lockpicks, Hempel tried to judge whether or not he should chance lighting the hooded lamp that Loryn had so graciously provided, or pick the lock by feel alone.

Well, do you want to go for picking the lock in darkness (+10 OL %), or after lighting Loryn's lamp (+25% OL)? Since it's a simple design you get a bonus.

[Pulpatoon]

Hempel gets up from the door and crosses over to the sideboard, to see if he can adequately explore it without lighting the lamp.

If not, he will help Stanilus move the table, look under the rug.

If there is nothing under the rug, Hempel will then light the lamp, keeping it as hooded as possible, and using his body to block as much of the light as possible while he works on the lock.

Also: Welcome, FreebirdFootbagging!

[Landifarne]

Quietly moving the table so that it was out of the way, Stanilus and Hempel then carefully folded the carpet.

In the dim light of a quarter moon (that just barely streamed through the doo's crack) the two then checked the floor for extra seams and joints...

Each of you roll a d6

[Landifarne]

Aurora had spent years learning how to commune with spirits and harness the energies of the world, but she had eventually exhausted her parents' store of knowledge. Reaching that point soon after maturing into a woman, the young witch was forced to make a decision: stay, and have her budding powers stagnate, or leave the confines of the Lormarsh and seek a new coven.

For the hungry woman it was an easy decision to make.

The young witch didn't regret her choice for a minute, as she had seen more of the world in the last week than during her previous eighteen years. It was all fascinating and, to the distracted girl, full of energy to be harnessed. She only needed guidance.

Entering Rifford, the furrier she had met [Was his name Korl? Korrel?] suggested that she find a bed at the inn...but warned Aurora that her people were frowned upon in Rifford- believed to be capricious and evil. Well, the fellow had it half right.

Upon entering the inn (the name of which escaped her, but it must have had someting to do with the horse's leg that was nailed outside), her reception had been as the furrier warned- with bitter scorn and derision. She was lucky to escape the men near the door with only a bit of their spittle having landed upon her dress. Likely, it would have been better to stay in the barn with the stable boy, his friend and the furrier's dog. As it was, Aurora now felt like having a grimalkin clear the room of its occupants.

Although he was fearful of driving away his customers, Eremil was even more frightened of having a marshdweller's hex directed his way. Thus, when the woman quietly ordered a drink and meal, the ostler bit his tongue and treated the woman cordially. And, even though [By His Balls, the woman's face was covered with what looked to be a pox!] he had insisted that she take her food and drink in the room he reluctantly provided, Eremil acquiesced and cleared away a space in the back when the woman's temper began to simmer. His regulars were quick to make room...

Eating slowly with small, delicate bites, Aurora observed the room and noted those who gave her furtive, dark glances. Out of the entire room only a single, studious-looking man seemed not to be hostile.

Well, perhaps that one and also Borlun Fahrlain, Aurora thought. Fahrlain I recognize from his dealings with the trappers back home, and he's not the type to begrudge a person a meal and bed.

Aurora was tired, but the evening was yet young. She debated what to do.

[Pulpatoon]

Hempel's roll: [1d6] = 6