[ You're still in the manor of the mage Friyas, who recently turned up dead. You've been sent in to find his corpse and bring it out, but, of course, you have your own reasons for volunteering for this task. ] [ You're currently on the second floor, which you've already examined, finding nothing interesting save some well done life-sized sculptures. ] [ Session start, yo. If you need more details, inform the GM via /msg.] * Nebrinel frowns, and shifts her small pack. "I wonder where he is." * Fyril looks idly around, and then back towards the stairs. "Higher up, probably. And the piece, too." He heads to the stairs. "So let's head up." * Nebrinel nods and walks up the stairs. The next floor up is little more than a hallway with a door on each side, halfway down the hall. * Fyril nods to the door on the left, and heads to it, checking it to see if he can get in. * Nebrinel looks around the hall briefly, and goes to the right door. Fyril> The door has a good lock on it, and you're pretty sure there are magical theft deterrents on it as well. Nebrinel> Your door has a rudimentary lock on it. * Fyril grins, and hums to himself. He reaches into his bag for his lockpicks. * Fyril fields his lockpicks in one hand, and tries to feel out the magical deterrents. * Nebrinel frowns, and taps her foot, looking at the lock. Can't just pulp the thing, sadly. Too obvious. The lock does not look back at Nebrinel. * Fyril looks over at Nebrinel's side, and turns over with his lockpicks, grinning. "Let me do it." He bends down and tries to pick the lock. * Nebrinel chuckles softly "It's been a while since I've actually had a set of picks. I'm more a smash and grab gal." The lock is child's play for Fyril, and he's done in a heartbeat. * Fyril hops up and gives Nebrinel a beaming look. "Breaking it works too, but it's not as fun. Thieves shouldn't leave traces, either." * Fyril goes back to his door. 2d6-2 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-2) and gets 5. 2d6-2 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-2) and gets 4. * Nebrinel shrugs. "It's been over 100 years since I've tried to steal anything from an elf. Sergeant nonwithstanding." She opens the door and peeks inside (assuming no magic wards she can sense.) * Fyril nods to himself as he looks at the door. "I'd probably use the picks if I was stealing from a human, too. It's the principle, for me." * Fyril nods slowly, and kneels to pick at the lock on his door. Sleight of Hand (lockpicking), Fyril. ( 2d6-3 ) ( is not a valid number Yu-Mei. 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-3) and gets 4. The lock clicks open, signaling success for our young elven friend. * Fyril hops up, and eases the door open. Inside is a large, semicircular room. The furnishings are plain but well-made, and probably comfortable. Nebby> Your room is also large, but this one's appointments are downright lavish. However, it doesn't seem as if it has been lived in much at all. * Nebrinel huhms, and looks about for anything odd. "Living quarters. Locked living quarters." * Fyril looks into the room, and shrugs to himself. He looks over his shoulder, and says to Nebrinel, "There's some spell that'll set off alarm if I go in there." Nebrinel finds nothing out of the ordinary for living quarters, save a lack of personal effects. * Nebrinel walks out of her room, and frowns, critically looking at the spell. * Fyril slowly grins. "Or... I could just act like I'm supposed to be there." He looks himself over in his livery. * Nebrinel frowns. "D'rather save that for later." S'just an alarm, though. We can explain it away saying we were looking for his body. * Fyril looks up at her, and nods. "Still, if we can get away without setting it off, that might be best." * Fyril pockets the lockpicks. "The less noise, the better, right?" Exactly. * Nebrinel waves towards the stairs. "Plenty more to look for." * Fyril cocks his head. "You want to move on? But... it was locked and enchanted. There's probably something in there." Maybe, but the later we hit it, the better. * Fyril looks longingly towards the room, and sighs softly. "All right. The body's not in there, anyway. We can go look for that, still." * Nebrinel nods. * Fyril turns away from the door, and back to the stairs to go up another flight. The next floor up is the final floor. It consists of one room which connects to the stairwell; on the far end of this small room are three doors. * Nebrinel walks up to the rightmost door and looks at it (making sure there's nothing tricky about it.) * Fyril walks over to the leftmost door, and gives it his normal examination. The door is locked, but not protected. (Me or him? ^_~) The rightmost door is not only unlocked and unprotected, but it's ajar, too. * Nebrinel frowns, and readies herself as she nudges the door open. * Fyril whips out the lockpicks and kneels down to apply them. The first thing Nebrinel sees upon opening the door is a man in green robes. He's slumped over a workbench and has the hilt of a dagger protruding from his back. * Nebrinel says, "Wow, he really WAS killed," and looks about the rest of the room. The room is clearly a laboratory or study of some sort. There are a few devices sitting on the desk Friyas lies on, and there are numberous open books spread around. Many of the devices are too esoteric for Nebrinel to identify, and some are too odd to guess at. Fyril, roll lockpicking skill again. ^_^ 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-3) and gets 2. Fyril manages to get his lock open. Inside is another lab, but this one doesn't have a corpse in it. * Fyril goes in, and looks around for anything useful. Or worth taking. This room serves as storage for a number of odd trinkets and devices. There's a large brass telescope in one corner, although how it's supposed to see out of a tower with no windows is a mystery. * Fyril walks around, picking up and putting down random innocuous looking objects, then stops at the telescope and looks in it. At the far end of Fyril's room are two pedestals. One is empty, although the other bears a large, rune-encrusted staff on it. Both pedestals have books chained to them, each giving a title, which is presumably the name of the artefact that belongs on the pedestal. The book next to the staff is entitled "The Inhabited Staff." The book on the other pedestal was entitled "Odd Morganti Weapon?", which was later scratched out and supplemented with "Great Weapon Fragment". * Fyril steps back from the telescope, and head over to the pedestals. He looks at them, and sighs before yelling for Nebrinel. * Nebrinel looks up from the fairly boring room, and walks to Fyril. "What's it..." * Nebrinel sees the pedestals and frowns. "You're kidding." * Fyril shakes his head. "It's gone. I don't feel anything, either. None of that creepy feeling that those things usually give off." * Nebrinel nods, and looks at the staff. "That staff's not giving me a good feeling, either." * Fyril looks at it, too. "Yeah. Something's weird about it." * Nebrinel huhms. Could you check the third door? I want to look through his books. I want to know how he know it's a great weapon. * Fyril nods, and heads out of the room to the centermost door, giving it a once over. * Nebrinel goes back to the room before, with all the books, and looks at their titles. ( Blarg. You're not going out of your way to make this easy on me, are you? ;P ) (No, we're mean. ^_~) Most of the books are treatises on sorcerous theory. (Anything interesting in terms of Morganti/Great Weapons, or his famous teleportation?) There's a lot on teleportation; apparently that's what he was working on at the time. One of the books seems to focus on the 'donts' of attempted teleportation, listing the deletrious effects of moving certain speeds, or forgetting to take this or that precaution. (Any 'personal notes'?) ( I forget. Did you set off in the morning or evening? ) There are personal notes all over the place. (It was about midday, wasn't it?) He's scribbled them in here and there, sometimes ammending the author or correcting this or that factoid. * Nebrinel starts to look through the notes. Nebrinel begins to regret ignoring Adron's lectures so much. ^_^ * Nebrinel mutters about theory nerds. 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-3) and gets 8. * Fyril grumbles at the lock on the door, and scowls. 2d6-1 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-1) and gets 10. * Fyril rolls up one sleeve, looks at it determinedly, and sets the picks to it again. 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Fyril (2d6-3) and gets 7. * Fyril sighs, and stands up. He gives the door a light, frustrated kick. Fyril isn't wounded by the attempt, which means there are no sorcerous protections on the door. * Nebrinel chuckles. "That was pretty funny..." she frowns, "... but that doesn't help me." * Fyril heads back over to the other room, sulking. "Well, I didn't get in." * Nebrinel huhms. "Strange." Yeah. Must be one hell of a lock. I could get it if I tried again, but the lock might break. * Nebrinel waves at the notes. "This is all foreign to me..." * Fyril walks over and peers at it. "This all looks strange." * Nebrinel grabs some of the notes. "Some of these, at least, look relevant to some sort of Dagger, and it looks like Serioli were involved." * Fyril cocks his head. "So, about the weapon that was here." * Nebrinel looks at the guy, and frowns. * Fyril looks over to Nebrinel, and smiles curiously. "What?" 2d6-3 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-3) and gets 8. * Nebrinel shrugs. "It bothers me that I was right, that someone else was looking for these weapons." C'mon, let's grab the dagger's notes, and look at that staff some more. * Fyril nods slowly, his smile fading. "Yeah. So you think that assassin took it?" He looks to the staff on the pedestal, and shivers. More than likely, or it's hidden around here. * Fyril looks around quickly. "If he didn't, it's hidden really well." * Nebrinel pulls Plague Bringer out of its sheath slightly, and huhms as she grabs the notes and scans through them. * Fyril steps to the staff, and looks at it more closely. "You think it's safe?" No, but we should look at the notes anyway. * Fyril shivers again, and reaches down to pick up the notes so he can move them over to Nebrinel. "It feels strange up close. Something like... well, something else." He looks down and frowns slightly. 2d6-7 * Dicesuke throws the bones for Nebrinel (2d6-7) and gets -4. (Wow. And you said my awareness roles were astounding. =P) (It's not moving. ^_~) There's a loud *pop* sound and one of the chain's links is cut in two. * Nebrinel takes the now freed notes and puts them in her pack as well. * Fyril looks up from the staff to Nebrinel. "Heh. Nice." He smiles cutely. * Nebrinel chuckles, and peers at the notes for the staff and tries to make sense of them. "Inhabited Staff, huh?" Does it say by what? As Nebby begins browsing through the notes, she finds a detailed account of Friyas' tries to figure out the staff's nature, which are all very detailed. It then tells of how something inside the staff that he'd been trying to figure out 'woke up' one day, and the things it said. (Like what? ^_^;) The thing in the staff identified itself as 'Faydra', and although she (he's quite certain it's a she) claimed to be of noble blood, she became angry whenever he asked what house or line she was of. * Nebrinel blinks. "The staff's got something in it called Faydra." He tried to learn more from the voice by promising to free it, which the notes clearly indicate he never planed to do. He was fascinated by the notion of having someone -- apparently a wizard -- locked up in an inanimate object. He was also interested in the power that using the staff could give. * Fyril blinks, and frowns slightly. "Like the thing in your sword?" * Nebrinel mutters, "Like that, I suppose..." and continues reading. Some of the notes indicate that Faydra was once an elf herself, and she seems to think she was an important one, too. She also seems to think that what she was doing was important, as well. (Anything about what she was doing, and yes I am reading this to Fyril.) While he was holding conversations with 'Faydra', she became increasingly skeptical that he ever wanted to free her, until one day she invaded his mind and got the truth for herself. He was never able to hold another conversation with her after that, as she would become enraged as soon as he made contact. She didn't describe what she was doing in detail; apparently she thought it was worth keeping secret, too. * Nebrinel frowns. "Why would you free someone with a secret agenda, anyway?" * Nebrinel says softly, "At least we know where Plague Bringer stands. " ( Because they asked nicely? ;P ) * Nebrinel frowns. "Well, do we want to lift it or not? I don't think we'll be able to hide it, and we're running out of time." * Fyril shivers and reaches over to take Nebrinel's hand. "We do. And I wouldn't have let her go if she didn't tell me, either." He looks at the staff with a pondering look on his face. * Nebrinel mms softly. "And the more I think about it, the more I dislike the idea of coming out of the tower carrying a dead body." ( Er. They *expect* you to come out of the tower with a dead body, remember? ) You teleported in. Could you send it out? (Right, but if they're not trustworthy, look at the pretty patsies, right?) * Nebrinel huhms, and nods. "Take it or not? Because otherwise, I think you should carry out the body, and I should look faint." * Fyril thinks. "Well... if we don't take it out, we'll have to explain why." * Nebrinel shakes her head, "No, no, the staff, not the body. We have to take out the body." * Fyril looks at it again. "He thought it was worth as much as the Great Weapon piece. That's something. Will touching it make contact?" * Nebrinel steels herself. "Only one way to try." * Fyril looks at her closely. "You're going to do it?" He squeezes her hand. "Why not me?" * Nebrinel looks at Fyril, and says softly. "I have a little more experience. If she is a mage powerful enough to invade Friyas' mind... I've fought that before." * Fyril opens his mouth, closes it, and looks at her again. "Yeah. You're better than me. But..." he hesitates again, and bites his lip. "Let me hold the sword? The two might interact strangely. I don't want you to be in any more danger than you have to be." * Nebrinel looks down at the sword, and frowns. "A good point, but I'd really rather not have you hold it." She unstraps it and puts it on the floor. "I'll put it down, though." * Fyril looks slightly relieved. "Good idea." He looks at the sword, then to the staff. * Nebrinel stands up, and steels herself again. * Fyril lets go of Nebrinel's hand, and takes a couple steps back. * Nebrinel reaches out, and touches the staff carefully. * Nebrinel continues to stand there. She hasn't exploded or nothing yet. * Fyril watches tensely, a look of concern plain on his face. The staff suddenly begins shrinking, stopping when it's only about fourteen inches long. * Nebrinel opens her eyes and pulls her hand back. That went well. * Fyril blinks at it, and looks back and forth between it and Nebrinel. "What happened?" * Nebrinel picks it up and puts it in her pack. "We're taking her with us... at least for now. It can't hurt much, right? In for a copper, in for a gold?" * Fyril nods. "As long as she's calm, it's good. And it's more stuff to come out with." He grins. * Nebrinel snaps the chain again and stuffs the notes away. "Agreed." * Nebrinel looks at the wall briefly, and frowns. "We're pushing our luck as it is. You grab the body, and we'll leave." * Fyril looks over the room again, and nods. He halts as he gets to the door. "What about that other room downstairs?" ( In fact, I can safely say you find nothing of interest even if you look, so mind if I sliptime? ) * Fyril considers this, and shakes his head. "No, let's just leave. I'd rather not have to fight again now, and if we wait longer, we might have to." He rubs his stomach absently. (Go for it.) ( Alright. To the outside of the building, or to the town? ;P ) (Yeah. Fyril gets some body... er.) (To the town, if you expect no resistance. ^_^;)