[ You are roughly twenty minutes away from the manor of Lord Smallcliff. The path winds up the side of the cliff on which the manor sits, which may or may not be 'smallcliff'. The area is rather well forested, although the path is wide leading up the the cliff, and the side cliff itself sports fairly little in the way of plant life. ] [ There is another path going around to the side and up the slope of the cliff rather than the side; it is, no dobut, there for carriages and supply wagons. There is little traffic leading up to the manor today. ] [ Session start, verily. ] ( And feel free to ask for any other details you want, rather than waiting for me to figure it out on my own. ;P ) * Nebrinel hums softly as she walks. She is dressed in something much more a lady's outfit than her normal travelling clothes. She has also applied a bit of makeup and such to change her face slightly on the off chance that Friyas might remember her. * Fyril tries to keep the eager look off his face with moderate success as he walks one step behind Nebrinel. He's wearing what seems to be just the livery of Friyas's house, along with his emblem in the normal places. He's carrying a small bag, as well. The day looks to be a pleasant one, as it has been the past few days, save for a bank of clouds in the east, which may or may not be moving this way. * Nebrinel looks over at Fyril, and chuckles. "So, I go in and ask him. Simple enough." * Fyril nods brightly. "Just buy me enough time to track it down. Even if he hid it, it shouldn't be too hard to find. That weird feeling should give it away." * Nebrinel mms and continues walking. "A very good point. Remember, if you are sure you can grab it clean? Go for it. The sooner we get this, the better." She chuckles. "And worst case I can rescue you tonight." ( Roll awareness, please. ) 2d6 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6) and gets 3. ( Sight bonuses apply as well. ) (OK, then it should be...) 2d6-6 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-6) and gets 4. (I made it.) ( You both made it. Congrats. ^_^ ) You see someone running more or less in your direction; that is, they're on the road, and heading along it the opposite direction you are. When I say they're running, I mean it, and they seem to be clutching a cloth bundle to their chest. They're wearing Fyiras' livery, too. * Nebrinel looks ahead and says, "Incoming Friyas person." * Fyril cocks his head and squints at the runner. "Wonder what that guy's doing that for?" I don't know. Stopping him might not be the best idea. Maybe we can ask quickly. 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-3) and gets 5. * Fyril nods, and steps out in front of Nebrinel like a good servant, waiting for the runner to get within yelling range. The guy looks up from his running and notices you, too. From here you can tell he's a human, wlthough he's clean-shaven, unlike Ethan and his Goatee of Gong Summoning. * Fyril calls out, "Hey! Why are you running?" * Nebrinel frowns, and says softly after Fyril yells, "Looks like some sort of wounded lizard in the bundle." The man shouts back, "For my health! Can't stop to talk!" The man moves off to one side of the path so as to avoid running into you, but keeps running. * Fyril smiles, and calls. "Running that fast isn't good for your health. Where're you going?" "Somewhere!" calls back the man, who is now only a scant twenty yards or so from you. I don't like this at all. Human servants aren't common, despite Ada's existance. * Fyril turns sidewise, bouncing on his feet slightly, but keeps his face turned towards the man, nodding at Nebrinel's words. "What do you have there?" * Nebrinel mutters, "Remember the guy who was asking around about him. If we could get livery..." The man declines to comment as he runs past, but you can now plainly see that the bundle is soaked with blood. As he passes, he's watching both of you warily. 2d6-4 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-4) and gets 1. * Nebrinel gestures briefly, and the air right front of the man's feet shimmer and becomes just slightly visible. * Fyril tenses, and mutters to Nebrinel, "I'm running. Cover me if he tries anything." He runs at the man's side, and says, "So, you new at the manor? Haven't seen you around before." The man doesn't notice this quite soon enough, as he trips, but he manages to roll into a crouch, facing you, and with a pair of throwing knives in his free hand. He glares at each of you in turn, and you feel somewhat intimidated by his gaze. He stands and backs away from Fyril, saying "Sorry, it's just a temp job." "Now, I really must insist you don't bother me. I have some buisness that simply won't wait; I do hope you understand." * Nebrinel looks at the man coolly. "Somehow, I doubt that Lord Smallcliff would hire the likes of you." * Fyril nods, and jams a hand in his pocket as he steps back a couple paces. He continues backing away, eyeing you both. "Perhaps. Somehow, I doubt your oppinion on the matter is that important." 2d6-2 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-2) and gets 10, a CRITICAL FAILURE!!! "God hates you, and so do I." (Feeling's mutual, Dicey.) ( ...hee! ) ( Hmmm. How to work this. ) ( 'lo. ) ( What is with Diceie and the Critfails. In all of Arena, there were somewhere around.. 9 critfails. ) ( He likes crifails. Dunno. ) ( If they happen that frequently in my game, I'm gonna start doing re- rolls. ^_^; ) (Dicey likes critfails, it's that simple. Sadist.) Nebrinel's spell backfires, and she sees spots before her eyes and has a headache. * Fyril takes a couple of steps to the side, and one more back. "Be careful how you talk to the lord's guests. We don't need any trouble, or any loss of respect." The man shakes his head sadly. "Kids and magic. Sheesh." * Nebrinel winces and blinks a few times. She's still looking at the guy, but her face is creased in pain/annoyance. * Fyril glances at Nebrinel, notes her look, and looks back to the man with his eyes flashing. "No need to underestimate us. And I assure you, we're a lot older than you. Why don't we just talk for a second?" * Nebrinel frowns at the man. "Because I don't have time to talk to you, that's why. I've already wasted too much time with you." He resumes backing away from you. ( ::runs for water:: ) * Nebrinel says, "So that you can save your precious lizard? You could act slightly more suspicious, I believe." * Fyril edges down the path, keeping pace, his eyes on the man's hands and his hand still jammed in his pocket. The man chuckles and shakes his head. "I really don't have time for this. So, I believe I'll be leaving you to your stroll. Good day." He begins to back away much more quickly, but continues to eye you both as if he were anticipating you to stop him. 2d6 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6) and gets 3. An area of darkness envolops the man, but as soon as it does, the two throwing knives are sent sailing, one at each of you. Make ranged defense (personal) rolls. 2d6 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6) and gets 4. (Made it! Wootzor.) 2d6-1 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-1) and gets 4. (Nebby made it, Fyril didn't. So, while Nebrinel manages to see the one coming and get out of the way, the other knife buries itself to the handle in Fyril's gut.) (That's one low DCV. @_@) ( Fyril is not a combat machine. It's okay for him to have a low DCV. ^_~ ) Meanwhile, the darkess doesn't clear, and the man doesn't seem to come out of it, either. * Fyril squeaks, and kneels down on the path, one hand in his pocket and the other on the knife. He squints at the darkness, peering towards it, his face paling. * Nebrinel frowns, and looks at the darkness around the man. She suddenly turns to Fyril's noise, and pales herself. Fyril's wound is beginning to bleed nicely. Meanwhile, no more projectiles seem to be coming from the darkness. * Nebrinel curses and runs towards Fyril, and kneels to his height. "Damn." * Fyril smiles very weakly. "Had to do something. He hurt you. You... you shouldn't let him go." 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-3) and gets 5. nebby pulls the knife out, which hurts all over again, and then works some magic; the wound begins closing slowly. * Nebrinel mutters, "Should have taught you healing," and says, "I'd better get him." She stands (before the wound is closed, probably), and with a weak smile, goes towards the darkness. The darkness is beginning to slowly disperse. Nebrinel can see just enough to know that the man isn't within it anymore. * Fyril gasps, and slumps as the knife comes out, resting quietly as it starts to heal. He sits down on the path and looks at the darkness again. * Nebrinel blinks, and curses. "Damn it all." She turns back and walks towards Fyril. "We have other things to do." * Fyril nods weakly, and pushes himself back up to kneeling. "He ran off?" * Nebrinel says, "Looks that way," and looks at Fyril's wound again. * Fyril runs a hand down his chest, and grimaces. "Assassin. Thieves... don't throw that well. I should know." He runs his hand across his forehead, getting a little blood on it, his legs trembling as he kneels. "What would he want with a lizard?" The wound has closed now. Although the shirt hasn't. * Nebrinel waves her hands, and the shirt closes up, and the blood falls out of the shirt onto the ground. "I don't know. I certaintly don't know why it was wounded." *** Atom has quit IRC (Quit: ) * Fyril stands up shakily, and wipes off his forehead as he smiles gratefully at Nebrinel. "Thanks a lot." * Nebrinel smiles weakly back. "It was no problem." She looks down the path. "I suppose we may find out more at the Smallcliff manor." * Fyril turns and looks up at the manor. "If he was running like that, he either succeeded or failed badly." He shakes his head as if to clear it. "Either way, we might as well go look. Just give me a second." You're not far from the manor, now. Hell, I can sliptime there, if you like. You eventually reach the tower that is Smallcliff Manor. A few private guards are scouring the area, with a few more heading out the way you came. Another guard is on the ground near the tower, with two people looking over him. * Nebrinel is back to looking cool and ladylike again. Somewhat. She looks about the place idly, and walks towards the tower. The tower itself is rather odd. It's made entirely of a reddish brick, and seems to have no doors or windows. One of the guards notices you as you approach, and walks up to you, looking you each over. * Fyril looks the tower and the guards over, then turns to Nebrinel as the guard approaches. "Lady, if you don't mind, let me find out what is going on here." * Nebrinel waves her hand dismissively, and says nothing to him other than a slight nod. Her eyes are mainly on the guard. The guard approaches Nebrinel. "Good day, Lady...?" -And then the GM's connection died.- The guard frowns. "Uhm, I'm afraid that's impossible, milady." * Nebrinel frowns back. "I've traveled a very long way in search of an item that only he has. Is there any specific reason that I cannot see him?" "Urm, well, yes. He's rather dead at the moment, milady." * Nebrinel gasps. * Nebrinel holds her hands to her mouth. "Dead? Oh no..." "Yes, I'm afraid so. I know, it's terrible. An assassin killed him in his lab. We're looking for him now." * Fyril steps back, shocked. "The master... he's dead?" he says to himself. * Nebrinel pales. "Was... was he dressed like a servant? Human?" "The worst part is, without Lord Smallcliff or another mage to control the spells on the keep, we can't get in or out." The guard looks at Nebrinel with wide eyes. "Yes, yes he was! And he had some strange flying lizard with him... the damn thing poisoned Melestav there." * Nebrinel points back down the road. "We saw him running by... he threw some daggers at us." She puffs up. "We are very lucky I have had some magical training, or his servant would be dead." * Fyril nods fervently. "She saved my life, sir. That man, he just attacked us. With him running off, I was worried, but I never thought..." He falters, and stops. "You have some magical training? Maybe you can help us, then. We can't get in because, well, there aren't any doors, and usually only Lord Smallcliff was able to controll the spells that could teleport people in and out." "The spells would still be there, however. Maybe you can use them to get in and bring Lord Smallcliff's body out." * Nebrinel says, "Teleportation? That is very impressive work. I had heard great things about Lord Smallcliff, but..." * Nebrinel nods weakly. "I can certaintly try. I suppose it is the least I can do for him now." * Nebrinel mms softly, and walks up slowly to the tower walls. The guard nods. "That'd be excellent. We need to get his body out so that wa can... er, give him a proper funeral at Deathsgate." * Nebrinel examines the walls carefully, and looks around. 2d6-4 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-4) and gets 1. * Nebrinel waves her right hand in the air, meanwhile waving her left and touching Fyril slightly. You both appear in what seems to be an entryway, but without a door. * Nebrinel mutters. "I hate acting the mix of weak and strong that it takes to be a low noble. Let's move quickly." To your right is a coatrack, and ahead of you is a hallway with doorways on either side, and a spiral staircase at the end. * Fyril looks around, surprised but taking in the area. "Right. Which side do you want?" I'll take the right, you take the left. We're looking for his body and the piece both. Meet you back here. I don't trust those guards. * Fyril smiles. "They're guards. You're not supposed to trust them." His eyes sparkle. "Let's get to work, then." * Nebrinel nods, and starts moving. Nebby finds a large library on the right. The library gives the impression that it's meant to be a place to read in, rather than a place to sit and have tea and marvel at how many books the noble who owns the place has. Fyril finds two dining rooms, each linked to the same kitchen, which is spacious and well-appointed. * Nebrinel huhms, and looks for any particularly theory books that catch her eye. Especially his famed teleportation. (Or on Great Weapons, for that matter.) * Fyril walks in, and cautiously takes in the dining rooms, scanning the walls for any telltale signs of hidden areas. There are a few books on teleportation; most of them written by Friyas himself, and probably just kept for reference, or to loan to friends. There are no books on Great Weapons. Fyril finds no hidden areas, which either means that Friyas isn't hiding anything here, or is hiding it very, very well. * Nebrinel will slip one or two teleportation books into her pack, look for hidden areas, and move on if there's nothing more to do. ^_^; ( There is, indeed, nothing more to do for Nebby. :P ) * Fyril leaves the dining rooms aside for the moment and heads into the kitchen, again scanning for any suspicious looking areas. And rare ingredients. Fyril finds some suspiciously rare ingredients, considering how bland Friyas likes his food. Maybe the chef uses them for his own food only. * Fyril grins to himself, and grabs a couple of the drier ones (assuming there are any), putting them into his bag. Fyril nets himself some expensive Eastern spices! * Fyril turns towards the rest of the room, looking for anything else interesting. Fyril finds nothing else of peculiar note. * Fyril blows out a breath, and heads back out to the hallway. He looks back down towards the coatrack and entryway, then up towards the staircase. Fyril and Nebby meet at the staircase. * Nebrinel shrugs. "Nothing but a library. What you'd expect from a geek." She looks up the stairs. "Shall we?" * Fyril follows Nebrinel's glance, and nods. "Yeah. Nice kitchen over there, though. Wish I could take it with me." He grins, and turns to walk up the stairs with a bounce in his step. * Nebrinel says not-quite deadpan. "They tend to be hard to lift." On this floor are more doors lining another hallway. The doors are placed closer together, this time. * Fyril looks down the hall. "I'll take the left again." He walks towards the first door. * Nebrinel nods, and goes to the right. On both sides are small, sparsely furnished rooms; servant quarters, you assume. There is absolutely nothing of any interest in any of them, save for one room whose owner seems to have a knack for sculpting. (Which side was that on? =P) ( Nebby's. :P ) -And then the GM died.- [ SESSION ON PAUSE, YO. ]