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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

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weishan's picture
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

DM

It is a fairly cool windy day sometime in Sigil's'evening.' This makes the air quality slightly better than usual.

The Crossed Daggers Tavern is located in Hell's gate near that neighborhood's border with the hive. The establishmentis both upscale and safe given it's location, and many of it's patrons visit regularly on business, often the shadier variety. The one story building is constructed sturdily out of a dark reddish rock and has tall, narrow windows barred ornamentaly with a briar motif. On the bladed roof of the tavern there is an open air area (this is cheaper, one must pay extra to use the tables on the ground floor). The twelve-foot double doors are heavy and made of cold-iron, making it clear that Tanar'ri aren't welcome here (though Tanar'ri in Hell's gate is a highly unikely thing in and of itself). Posted beside there is a sign that reads: "Patron's, please respect our staff; no silver coins."

The first thing one notices when entering The Crossed Daggers is that it surprisingly quiet--one does not hear the sounds that would be expected in a tavern. There is no yelling or fighting and overly loud or disruptive patrons are reminded to restrain themselves. Two hamatulas and four kytons serve as bouncers and security on the first floor. About 3/4s of the tables on this floor are occupied, though most of the bar stools are still empty. Behind the bar is an Erinyes with a thick mane of long jet hair and similarly colored wings. She retreats to the far corner of the bar when not taking orders. Other human and infernal tiefling serving staff from both floors occasionaly come to the bar to pick up drinks or food from the kitchen. There three games of darts currently being played. One is for bragging rights, the other two are for money. Two moderately skilled flutists are playing in the background. There is a mostly empty glass cup for money at thier feet. Many of the patrons are humans or tieflings, though there are a handful of middle and upper ranking devils including a heavily sccared cornugon. At annother table an Erinyes flanked by two dearded devils is negotiating a contract with a mortal. The largest table is occupied by a group of mercinaries, who, judging from their loud and often drunken conversation have returned from the blood war alive. There is also a table of three off-duty Mercykiller oficers. At least one bearded devil leers at these three at all times, ensuring that the Mercykillers know whose laws they follow here.

The second floor is open to Sigil's smoggy dusk. One hamatula and two kytons watch over this level. In addition to the more ordinary serving staff there is also annother erinyes, who looks surprisingly like the barkeep downstairs. This floor is somewhat less occupied than the first. Many of the patrons here are too drunk for thier own safety. In a much less densely occupied section of the roof sits a black robed figure with a long jaw covered by an ivory mask. Her glowing orange eyes are focused angrily on an overly loud drunk who is harassing her and the female serving staff. She loks like she has a considerable ammount of fiendish blood though it is unclear what sort. Darkly robed and hooded patrons are not uncommon but this one stands out because she (You think. The robe makes it difficult to be certain) is flanked by two fifteen foot tall skeletons from some variety of giant. The bones of each are elaborately marked in blue patterns and both carry immense greatswords. There is also a very heavily scarred nycaloth negotiating what looks to be an information deal with two mortals.

Notes:

Generally it is socially acceptable to sit at other people's table's if you ask them

For simplicity's sake it would be easiest if everyone went to the top floor so characters will all have a chance to meet.

Map attatched

Feel free to ask for more details

[img]C:\Documents and Settings\Sam\Desktop\campaign\ddmaps\111l1.BMP[/img]

[img]C:\Documents and Settings\Sam\Desktop\campaign\ddmaps\111l2.BMP[/img]

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

A heavily bandaged man wearing a dark blue buccaneers coat and a silver gauntlet climbs the stairs to the upper level, and looks around.

Boring. Seriously, why did we even COME here?

Because last time we went to a bar, you got us into a fight. I'm hoping that this place has enough security to deter even you.

No such thing. And the only reason I started that fight was to get you to bloody DO something. I swear, ever since we left the gatehouse you've been nothing but dead weight. Whatever happened to seeing the multiverse?

I will, later.

The bandaged man walks over to one of the closer walls and leans against it, taking in the air.

Forget later. I want to do something interesting NOW.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

At a central table on the second floor, an intriguing figure sits in conversation with two aasimars, a seemingly wealthy young couple with tell-tale animalistic features of their guardinal heritage.
There is a commanding presence about the man across the table, captivating his audience with a honeyed tongue and the elaborate words of a gentleman.
He appears as a dark-skinned saturnine humanoid, dressed in exquisite and expensive attire of white and dark red, with plenty of jewellery. His demeanour is charming and witty, and he smiles with gleaming pointed canine teeth. Two tiny horns jut from his forehead and stylishly cut curly black hair, and his legs end in cloven hooves. A prehensile tail tipped with a prong extends behind him and softly moves in a hypnotic ripple, occasionally following his speech pattern.
He absentmindedly taps the simple elegant walking stick of a noble, with an attitude as if he owns the establishment, appearing to have grown bored with the conversation.

Suddenly he cuts off the speech of the female aasimar, who has begun sobbing and shaking profoundly.
“A deal is a deal, Madam, there really is no need for this pleading. I assure you, your soul is in fine hands… and frankly, begging is unfitting for a lady of your standard. I’m afraid I must be blunt here: your offer simply is too unfavourable, I already have all that I desire from your family.”

The male aasimar stands up with a raised voice, starting off with “Now listen here…”, but he decidedly shuts up, as another figure steps up behind the charming gentleman.
This previously lurking individual appears humanlike, though with subtly red leathery skin, and is heavily armed with a mighty bow and sizeable sword at his back. As he stares the aasimar back into his seat, an eagle lands on his shoulder and he looks to the gentleman for orders of how to proceed.

“You will have to forgive my associate Trift, my dears. He is prone to act a bit… rashly, at times. At any rate, I believe we are finished here. Unless you wish to expend for another consultation?”

He flashes a smile at the aasimars as they depart, the male supporting his wife who walks away in tears.

“Ah, the Feringtons. I recall their manners to be far better the first time we met.”

Canzonzabar lifts a glass of wine to his lips and glances at the patrons, looking for new possible business ventures.

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Bruce notices the Aasimar pair leave the table, and quickly crosses the room.

"Good day, sir. The previous occupant of this seat does not look like she will return. May I have it?" Bruce asks in an dull, less than enthused voice.

What jumps right out at you is that the bandages around this mans head cover everything but the eyes. The right eye is a normal enough shade of blue, but the left eye seems to have been replaced by a brass orb, with a tiny yellow light as its pupil.

There, see? I'm going to have a conversation with this gentleman.

That isn't what I meant and you know it.

weishan's picture
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

OOC: Dunamin, can you see the images now?

Min

The heavily robed figure at the far corner of the room turns her head towards this new disturbance. She wears what you think is a grin on her face and shows numerous wicked saw-like teeth. She politely nods, acknowledging the flaxugon.

To Canzonzabar, she telepathicly says:
Please excuse my asking, but may I join you. It looks as though you're table is surrounded by less irritating people and I'd not mind a good conversation.

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Trift eyes the bandaged man with suspicion as he approaches, and Canzon sends a short telepathic command to his bodyguard.

Keep an eye on him, he might have concealed weaponry under those rags.

Putting on an unassuming façade, Canzon regards the man formally yet politely.

”Well, your manners are certainly better than my former clients’, so by all means. Perhaps you are here to conduct business, mr… ?”

Canzon also smiles to the female figure in the corner, returning her greetings.
Certainly. I do so tire of the chatter of mortals, so I would appreciate the company of peers. May I have your name, my lady?

OOC:
It should be obvious that Canzon is assuming her to be a fellow (non-Chaotic) fiend, considering her visage and telepathic communication. He tries to recall if he has heard of her kind - Knowledge (the Planes) check below.
Also, Sense Motive checks in relation to both Bruce and Min to sense if they’re up to no good. (pun intended Eye-wink )

Sorry wei, still can’t see the images, have you tried uploading them to a free imagehost? BERK, you having the same problems?
Oh, and that’s falxugon by the way, not flaxugon.

17 Bonus for Knowledge (the to do
I rolled 1d20+17, the result is 19.
14 Bonus for Sense Motive (t to do
I rolled 1d20+14, the result is 25.
I rolled 1d20+14, the result is 20.
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

OOC: I didn't see them either.

"Maxson. Bruce Maxson." Bruce uses his silver guantleted hand to pull out the chair and seat himself.

"So, how many generations?" Again, you get the odd impression that Bruce has no emotional investment in this conversation.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

Min

I am called Min. My surname is of no concern to you--or to me for that matter. Turning her head to the drunk next to her she says/thinks, I tire of the company of that one specificly

Min stands gracefully and indicates that one of her skeletons should take her things. When she stands, you notice she is far larger than first impressions would suggest--she stands a few inches under seven feet tall and has broad shoulders and thick arms. With a practiced and measured gait, she moves across the floor to Canzonzabar's table. Her lower jaw is smooth and dark grey with harsh, jagged black markings. (Any player who knows what a dolphin is would recognize her features for what they are. Here ivory mask is carved in a similar pattern to those on the skeletons but in black. Min carries several scroll cases on her person and wears some simple and unostentatious gold jewlery. She nods politely to the mortal who introduced himself as Bruce Maxson before slowly taking a seat and retreiving her food and drink from her skeleton bodyguard. Min thoughtfully sips her wine. (you notice she does this with some dificulty because of her jaw.

DM
Canzonzabar would have trouble determineing the type of her fiendish ancestor because her mortal half is definitely not human. She looks as though her heratige was either Baatezu or Yugloth. Canzonzabar does not notice any silver jewlery, which may or may not be an indication of heritage. Min dosen't seem hostile, though any number of weapons could be concealed in her robe. The skeletons are also a worry.

OOC: I'm semi-dyslexic in the mornings now that I'm not in school, sorry.

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both images are here:

http://zheshishemme.wordpress.com/2007/06/23/crossed-daggers-tavern/

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

Although appearing cool and confident on the outside, Canzon has grown uneasy at the sight of the silvered gauntlet. He turns his attention to Min joining them, and signals to have Trift seat her, if she allows it. As another gesture, he establishes a connection to the drunk harassing her and in no small means convinces him telepathically that it would be in the best interest for his safety, if he left the tavern immediately. (Intimidate)

Turning back to his guests, Canzon addresses them warmly:
“Pleased to meet you both. I am known as Canzonzabar, and this is my associate, Trift. Pray tell, what brings you to the Crossed Daggers this fine day?”

30 Bonus for Intimidate (get to do
I rolled 1d20+30, the result is 38.
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

Min

Min accepts this courtessy and sits. She gives a few elaborate hand gestures and her two skeletons take two steps backwards and rest thier sword points on the ground with both hands on the weapons' pommels.

"I am called Min and I am here to eat and maybe talk. I've not got a better reason."

Min's voice is hollow and has a slight echo to it. Both Bruce and
Canzonzabar also notice that her accent is not Sigilian. (Knowledge the
planes to see if you recognize the accent)

Heh Min laughs telepathicaly. Very impressive

DM
The drunk immediately leaves the bar in a state of near-irrational terror. You see him contemplating jumping from the roof to escape more quickly.

OOC: he rolled a 3 Eye-wink

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“Ah, but there is much to be found in this establishment aside from beverages, Lady Min. Opportunities abound for the enterprising sort, such as myself. Connections to be set up, bargains to be negotiated. If I may ask, where lie your interests in such matters? I am always on the lookout for profitable arrangements… mutually profitable, of course”

If he’s still within telepathic range (100 ft.), Du’minh tries to give the drunk the final push over the edge, all the while appearing perfectly present and focused with his table guests:
Do it, you worthless worm. Your life is forfeit, your destiny is set. It would be a much less cruel fate than the one otherwise waiting for you.

OOC: Canzon is tentatively trying to discern if Min deals in some sort of commodity, information, or other service. Checks below.

17 Bonus for Knowledge (the to do
I rolled 1d20+17, the result is 28.
30 Bonus for Intimidate (get to do
I rolled 1d20+30, the result is 43.
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Min
"I am getting my feet on the ground right now. I will bear your name in mind if there is an oportunity for such a deal."

DM

The drunk does jump off the edge of the roof, but he lowers himself down first. The ensuing noise suggests he has broken a leg.

Canzonzabar:
Min's accent is not familiar, but you would guess it would be from a prime world or a far-off corner of the planes. Min looks like a wizard, and it is unclear whether she would deal in information, etc. You also observe that she seems somewhat cautious about any type of mutual arangement.

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Bruce watches the two converse with interest. Without looking at her, Bruce asks Min.
"I've been on the outer planes for centuries, and before that I saw primes aplenty on the Jammer Darrow, so I've been around. I don't think I've heard an accent quite like yours. Where are you from?" Bruce asks politely. You notice a certain intensity in Bruce's eyes, and that unlike his previous question, he words are anything but dull. He even seems to have picked up a slight accent of his own.
Suddenly, the intensity and emotion are gone. "If only for the sake of conversation."

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Min

This is a strange one, thinks Min to herself

"I am from from Ad'ter. I very much doubt you've heard of it. It is a large and very densely populated prime world, but very, very isolated. Lots of islands. The only thing that would intrest you would be that the place inherantly rejects powerful outsiders."

To Bruce she politely asks, "Where are you from?"

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The intensity returns to Bruce's eyes. "A similar situation. On some maps its listed as Epis Prime, but the world called itself Atii. None of the jammers ever really cared what we called it, it was never of any real significance to them."
Bruce pauses. "I haven't been there in ages. At least three, probably closer to four hundred years now."

Bruce turns to Canzon. "So, you never answered my question before. How many generations are you?"

See? Nothing wrong with a little conversation.

As long as I get to talk, sure. You have no idea how boring it is just to listen for days at a time.

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Canzon replies with a hint of irritation, though his demeanour remains as charming as ever.
“I’m afraid your question is lost on me, Mr Maxson. Are you referring to “age”, rank, or some such?”

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"You know, how many gen..." Bruce suddenly loses the intensity again.

"I'm sorry, sir. At first glance, I was of the impression that you were had fiendish heritage. I realize now that despite your humanoid appearance, you are full fiend. I apologize if this has insulted you in any way."

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Min

"Please excuse me, I have something I must attend to for a few minutes," says Min, standing and pulling out a simple steel chain with a small glowing blue crystal attatched to the end. She concentrates on this and begins walking purposefully in a small circle. "Please forgive the strangeness."

OOC: anyone else is free to introduce themselves. I'll be back sometime saturday.

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More than vaguely insulted, Canzon places bonds on himself not to let his annoyance rise to the surface. For a moment, his smile seems to twist into a subtle sneer, but it is over before the change is noticeable.

”For a centuries-old well-traveled planewalker your… unawareness… astounds me Mr Maxson. You would know, that an abundance of exemplars assume visages much more “humanoid” than mine. The whole term is terribly misconstrued – a great deal of us had four limbs and a head on a torso long before humans existed. After all, the creator gods had to get their inspiration from somewhere. However, thanks to the sheer immense abundance of humans in the Mortal Coil, over eons of time, the Power of Belief has affected our forms to more closely resemble theirs.”

Slightly puzzled by Min’s behaviour, Canzon brushes it off as some obscure arcane ritual. Turning back to Bruce, he drops the lecturing and reassumes his formal manner.

“I have not failed to notice, my dear Maxson, that you have not answered my question, either. Do you have business to pursue here in these locals?”

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"I never said I was a planewalker, well experienced or otherwise." Bruce says, dully.

"And as for my purpose here, I am seeking to entertain myself and pass the time. Nothing more, nothing less."

OOC: So... what happened to the other players?

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OOC: Well, the game is only about a day old, I’m sure they’ll show up eventually.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

A dark-haired human with an imperial air about him, wearing a fine toga and crimson cross-sash, walks up onto the second tier. A magnificient, midnight-hued falchion hangs from an ornate belt of gold, while two guantlets of interlaced silver and mithril weave up his arms, their design lending a sense of strength to the figure. His olive skin bears no blemishes or wounds, though his rugged physique speaks of someone who has spent much of his life hardening his flesh into a focused instrument.

Stepping quietly around the circling creature, he turns his hazel eyes to the other sitting. "Do you mind if I pull a chair up? You seem a more intriguing group than these other dotards sopped in ale."

OOC:
Sense Motive(size up company): 18
Int check to recognize races: 3 (screw that)

12 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+12, the result is 18.
1 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+1, the result is 3.
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Although naturally used to being the center of attention, Canzon is slightly puzzled by how diverse a group has been drawn to his table. He sends an unseen command to Trift to stay sharp, in case this gathering is a ploy by one of his rivals.

Ugh, more silver-wielding patrons. Well… at least he’s dressed far better, and his etiquette seems in order.

Smiling charmingly as ever to the newest guest, Canzon extends a hand to an empty seat by the table.

“Peculiar. It seems this evening is for new acquaintances… By all means, have a seat, my good man.
The currently preoccupied lady is Miss Min, the… thoroughly clothed gentleman Mr Bruce Maxson. I am Canzonzabar; businessman, enterpriser and diplomat, as depending on where profit may be gained. Might you be so kind as to grace us with your name?”

OOC: You’ll have to wait awhile to see the resolution of your checks, Ben, as weishan is away for the next couple of days.

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Draping the cross-sash across his right arm, the sun-bronzed man sits down, shoulders level and back straight. The full image of regality. "Indeed, that it is, Master Canzonzabar. I'm a foreigner interested in business of the sharp sort..." Here his tanned hand rests upon the pommel of the falchion. "...if you catch my drift. But you may call me by the surname of Penance. What sort of trade do you run?"

OOC: No worries; these would be done over the course of the conversation, anyway.

Listen checks to overhear conversations elsewhere: 20

11 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+11, the result is 20.
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WHAM!!!

The door downstairs slams open. A loud, shrill, yet strangely high voice is heard by the patrons up on the second tier.

NOBODY PIKIN’ MOVE!!! THIS IS A BLEEDIN’ ROBBERY!

The sound of something hard, perhaps wooden, falling on the floor –

The kytons on the second tier, after an initial shock, seem surprisingly … unsurprised. They make no move towards the bottom, but rather, appear quite nonchalant.

THAT’S RIGHT ADDLE-COVES - KEEP REACHIN’ FER THAT CEILING! I’LL BE FINISHE – AHAHAHA , I’LL BE (snort) FINISHED WITH YOU IN NO TI-- HAHHHAHHAHAHAHAHA AHHAHAHAhAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!!! OOOOOOH YE SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE LOOK ON YER FACE KHARASTA!!

A short pause, followed by muffled conversation in the otherwise quiet first floor.

A few seconds later- sounds of feet walking upstairs, along with the sound of feet banging against the stairs, as if someone was hopping.

And indeed the ridiculously dressed character hopped onto the second floor, flanked by two larger (though equally ridiculous in dress) ….humans?

It wasn’t the alabaster white skin, nor the long,bright green hair, nor even the fiery red eyes that made this character – most likely some odd variety of aasimar- stick out like a sore thumb just about anywhere in the multiverse. It was red and black jesters outfit, complete with matching hat, and a black eye-mask that looked just recently raised, obviously part of the ‘robbery’ routine. Despite its outlandishness, the clothing appeared to be of high quality, likely silk.

Flanking him are two large men, probably human, - with white face paint and green hair that were clearly wigs. All of them are holding crossbows…loaded crossbows. The aasimar, pointedly, has two long swords sheathed on either side of his thin frame, and very bad teeth that are not only sharp and crooked, but oddly discolored, some hideous mixture between yellow and tan.

Ladies! Gentlemen! …ehh.. whatever the hell Kharasta is…. Have no fear! Su’ore Drum – the JOKER is FINALLY here!!! hahhahAHHAhaHHAHhahAhAHA.

OCC:

Ben - Su'ore Drum spelled backwards is... Mooohahahahha! Laughing out loud

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Quote:
NOBODY PIKIN’ MOVE!!! THIS IS A BLEEDIN’ ROBBERY!

Suddenly, Bruce is on his feet, his gauntlet covered hand outstretched toward the stairway. However, as he hears the sounds that follow, Bruce lowers his arm and sits down, listening to the Jokers introduction.

Oh, now he looks like fun.

He looks like something.

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OOC: Lovely, Trias...Is his true first name Reth'gual?? Sticking out tongue
Laughing out loud

IC:

Rising swiftly but smoothly, the olive-skinned figure glares at the figure before him. Eldritch fires spring into his stare. What sort of anarchic freak is this...

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OOC: Jack Nicholson is attacking, someone call Nam’tab! Laughing out loud

IC:

Canzonzabar glares coldly at the loud and flashy arrival that interrupted his presentation of professional interests. The bodyguard at his side already has his grim-looking bow out and an arrow on the string, eyeing the loaded crossbows and ready to spring into action at command of his master.

Canzon contacts the hamatula in charge of security on the 2nd floor telepathically, and inquiries about what is going on:

So much for keeping the peace... I was unaware that this establishment allowed disorderly buffoons to invade your premises.

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OOC: I is baaaack! (for 4 days anyway, I'm gone from the 5th to the 16-17th)

Min

Min puts away the crystal necklace and turns to face the newcomer. Her hands visibly shift to a pocket of her robe as though preparing to draw a weapon, and her two skeletons move up to her side and ready thier swords.

Why isn't this one dead? Min asks Canzonzabar.

DM

Canzonzabar:
The Hamatula, while somewhat shaken by the criticisim responds confidently to you: This berk pays well enough to keep us from putting hin in the dead book. Very well indeed.

Su'ore Drum:
You observe everyone on the second floor is looking at you with varying degrees of hostility. The occupants of one of the centermost tables look particularly hostile.

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The hostile glares seem only to fuel Drum's fire- on his face is an impossibly wide grin.

OoooH! tough crowd..... Like the saying goes: Dying is Easy - Comedy is Hard..


Very quickly, his grin turns into an unnaturally frightening frown.

Boys, let's bring some cheer to that table; He points right at the rising Penance. And just as quickly as he frowned, he grins again: LOOK SHARP! He screams

The Joker's crossbow fires first, followed a few seconds later by that of his lackeys.

Instead of bolts shooting out towards the table, a metal spool springs forth from each weapon - at the end of which is attached a small, rectangular white cloth, with the word BANG! written boldly upon it.

HAhaHAhahahHAHAhahahahahahahaHHAHA!!!!

Once again, the Joker (not even his lackeys) seems to be the only one getting the 'joke.'

Then glancing right at the "tiefling" Canzonzabar his red eyes widen. Don't worry guvner - I wouldn't kill you......unless, of course, I WOULD!!

It unclear whether he is making a threat, or just having a laugh (or perhaps both).

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Bruce looks at the joker blankly. "Those would be the two choices, yes."

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"Indeed. Dying is easy. Easier than you would think, even," Says Min dryly. She indicates that her armored skeletons should move between her and the line of fire of the newcomer.

How much does it cost to ignore a dead body? Min asks The Hamatula telepathicly.

It depends on how much this one pays us. It's free if he's dim enough to actually start some trouble.

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In response to Min’s question, Canzonzabar mediates the answer he received from the hamatula. Returning to Drum, Canzon retorts with perfectly cool composure.

“What cunning speculation to put forward. I would have expected nothing less from alternatively stylized escapees of a Pandemonium-inspired circus.”
Following an artistic pause, Canzon adds:
“I assure you, my remedies do not shoot blanks.”

Unassuming to everyone else, Canzon also speaks telepathically to the two lackeys flanking Drum.
Painted faces mask not your souls, foolish mortals. I will have them in due time, should you feel need to point weapons my way on future occasions.
(Intimidate to spook the goons)

30 Bonus for Intimidate to do
I rolled 1d20+30, the result is 42.
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

All:
The goons look visibly shaken. Judging by thier looks at Canzonzabar it was probably a telepathic threat on his part.

OOC: Trias, I don't have stats for your lackeys, but I assume they're hired since you don't have the leadership feat. Regardless, it's unlikely they could save vs. a roll of 30 on intimidate.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

OCC:

About that: sorry- I've been lazy with completing this character (which is to say that I haven't - still need to purchase items, fill out skills, and make a background - I'll get on that ASAP - we were moving and with the limited time I had, I was more inclined to start the RPlaying rather than complete the character, but once again, that'll be done soon). I wont post again, until I have some skill modifiers to RP further.

No, Drum does not have Leadership (as a Feat, that is), and the goons are indeed hires, and no - I don't think even the Joker could top a modifier of 30 on intimidate.

Finally, I think it's going to be difficult for him to fit in with this group (well, actually- that would the case with ANY group). Not only does everyone (save perhaps, BERK) appear LE, but Drum didn't exactly make a shining first impression ...not that I intended him to:D.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

Crossing his muscled arms, Penance glares at the three spectacles before him. Disdain written over his face, the imperial figure states in a eldritch-laced tone, I think your kind are better served elsewhere.

OOC: Suggestion to Drum and companions (DC17)
(I figure you can make the save, but it fits the character Eye-wink

Intimidate to reinforce suggestion: 15 (I gather Canz has some serious racial bonuses to his. Laughing out loud)

4 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+4, the result is 15.
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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

OOC: I'm not sure what level the goons are yet (and I'll roll for them when I do), but I'm going to say arbitrarily that Drum made his save for obvious plot reasons. In the future I'll try to be less arbitrary but we need to get the party together. I've also not heard back from Rei, so I'm going to start the campaign propper once this little argument settles down some.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

OOC:

'Trias' wrote:
Finally, I think it's going to be difficult for him to fit in with this group (well, actually- that would the case with ANY group). Not only does everyone (save perhaps, BERK) appear LE, but Drum didn't exactly make a shining first impression ...not that I intended him to:D.

No worries, Trias, I’m sure wei has something in mind for us all to get tied together, whether our characters like it or not. I’d expect several conflicts, bordering on open hostility, but such can add to a great game, no?

'Benyamin' wrote:
I gather Canz has some serious racial bonuses to his.
Yep, talking is his specialty, greatly supported by the racial ability adjustment that harvester devils receive to Cha and heavy investment into boosting that ability.

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

'Dunamin' wrote:
Yep, talking is his specialty, greatly supported by the racial ability adjustment that harvester devils receive to Cha and heavy investment into boosting that ability.

OOC: Ah, what a handy trait. Eye-wink

I think we'll get to see Penance's specialty if things keep going the way they are. Laughing out loud

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Drum's goons both retreat quickly down the stairs.

OOC: I'll be gone after today for annother 12 days, so please carry on.

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Bruce straightens up for a moment. "You call yourself a Joker, then tell us a joke whydon'cha." He says. The intensity is back in his voice, and so is the accent. Immediately after saying this, the intensity vanishes and Bruce hangs his head and sighs.

What did you have to go and do that for?

You know me, just looking to liven things up a bit.

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Smirking at the weak-hearted henchmen, the man carefully drapes his right are with the crimson sash before sitting down. He casts an irritated look at the bipolar creature surnamed "Bruce." Turning back to the harvester devil, Penance seems to forget the presence of the two nusances. "Canzonabar, you were saying your business was in..." The stately figure courteously trails off to allow the devil to take center stage.

OOC: Listen check for trouble from Su'ore Drum: 21
Sense Motive(appraising Drum's instable nature): 23
Readied Action

11 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+11, the result is 21.
12 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+12, the result is 23.
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Canzonzabar chuckles at the recent acts, then returns to the axiomatic warrior.

“Well, a little of this, and a little of that. My main focuses revolve around matters that require a tactful tongue, rather than brute violence. I serve as a diplomat, a negotiator, a mediator, what-have-you. I also provide consultation in subjects of planar nature, and I provide access to valuable papers, in ways much more expedient and efficient than through conventional authorities.”

“In addition, I am authorized by my superiors to channel a variety of favours to mortal clients – typically gold or magical increase in personal prowess, depending on the client’s needs, in exchange for… trifling posthumous services.”

Smiling wickedly, Canzon adds, directed to all at the table:
“And should any of you be interested, I am certain we can come to a favourable arrangement.”

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Intrigued by the velvet array of opportunities (something which Penance attempts to conceal as slight interest), the warrior reclines his back slightly against the chair's support. "Quite a vocation...and what would you call this...brokerage of information? I'd be highly invested in hearing some of the means by which you acquired such a vast network of programs to capitalize on your...talents." The twinkle in his hazel eyes speaks of a quiet mirth at the prospective businessman before him.

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Enjoying the conversation of a likeminded peer, Canzonzabar replies in turn:

“I would call it just that, brokerage of information, though I would not say my services are restricted to what such a description may imply. Details vary depending on the case in question, but should you have a specific conundrum in mind, please do indulge me.”

Absentmindedly, his sinister-looking tail brushes off a peck of dust that had settled on Canzon’s vest.

“It takes centuries to establish a network the likes of which I benefit from, Mr. Penance. The means that I employed to go about with this… well, you have to keep your business secrets safe, or you’d quickly be ought of business, wouldn’t you agree?”

It seems Canzon will remain deliberately vague on the subject, unless Penance wants to employ his services.

OOC: Yeah, he’s a smooth and slippery sucker, ain’t he? Eye-wink

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The ambiguous banter elicits a series of chuckles from the tenor aristocrat. "What a black cloth of insight you weave, Sir Canzonzabar! Hmhmhm..However, I do have a question: Which service intrigues you most? Surely, a courtly and canny devil such as yourself has a singular passion from among his other interests."

The speaker pauses for effect, his brow ridged with concentrated thought. A moment later his olive skin brightens like burnished gold, insight and humor shining in his eyes "With one so eloquent, I'd guess the market of mortals has a sharp competitor within the ranks."

Aye, smoother than universal solvent sliding through air. Eye-wink

But two loquacious characters are in the fray. Laughing out loud

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Pleased with the compliment, Canzonzabar responds to Penance’s inquiry.

“My passions lie with the central dogmas in diplomacy: Making your subject believe that he has achieved what he wished for, when in fact it is your own agenda you have furthered. Or the manoeuvring of words in relation to a superior, so that you make your ideas seem like his own – having others unwittingly put your own projects to work.
In either case, it is delightful when your quarry realizes the real order of day – too late, of course. There are many games that can be played with words; I have a hard time picking a favourite.”

The baatezu takes a sip of his wine, savouring the exquisite vintage.

“Or perhaps you are interested in concrete cases? I can recount for you a tale of how I helped convince a passionate eladrin of how inappropriate a life it has lived… it now serves faithfully in the Iron City…”

Canzon smiles malevolently at the memory, an endeavour that netted him a great deal of influence in his home realm.

“Yes, I deliver my fair share of souls to their rightful destination… rightful by rightful standards, of course...”

OOC:
Isn’t it delightful that a devil can openly talk about manipulation, because he can change his form at will with a Disguise check through the roof?

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Between the frequent nods and occasional arch of an eyebrow, Penance seems to be fully invested into the revelation, absorbing the information given. "An eladrin, you say? Yes, that would be quite the tale...but what of their slipperier cousins, the archons? I'd be interested in seeing how you turned their codices around to bind them." Flecks of golden zeal surface in his irises as Penance continues to give Canzonzabar his full attention.

LOL! Oh yeah!! Too bad I didn't have too many skill points, cause it'd be great to see what Penance and Canz could get into if the former's loquaciousness had more effective rolls. But I'm definitely enjoying watching your character in action. Smiling

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Game: We're Still not Quite Dead Yet

Leaning back with folded fingers, Canzonzabar reflects on this issue.

“Actually, I would say the archons are a lesser challenge to corru-… enlighten to our cause than the eladrin, being at least an orderly specie. Our own lord of the 7th is testimony to their inclination.

Gesturing with a smile to Penance, Canzon puts the ball in his park.

“I think I have spoken enough of my methods and professions for now, but then again we would not be having this conversation were we not where we are…”

“What of yourself, Mr. Penance? You are no stranger to how things work on the Planes, such is easy to tell. Surely there is more to you than being another sell-sword? Pray tell.”

OOC:
Sense Motive check to gain more insight into Penance’s nature and agenda during their conversation.

“…were we not where we are…”
That one I like Laughing out loud

14 Bonus for Sense Motive to do
I rolled 1d20+14, the result is 30.
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"Ah, "good" ol' Baazebul..." Penance smiles wryly at his own jibe.

"Hm..I am a also a proprietor of arms, though I enjoy the arena of negotiations as well. I'm based out of Thuldanin, if you ever travel by that way on a venture. I'd be rather pleased to have such enlightening company stop by...rust dragons are a rather dull dinner guests.

Bluff: 26
Close...but he seems to be hunting information (not hard to tell from his questions), though for whatever reasons they are deep-seated and hidden. He seems rather comfortable with the direction and scope of conversation.
(Beating by 4 shouldn't give too much, so I think that will work. Eye-wink

Yes, how canny of you. Laughing out loud

9 Bonus for to do
I rolled 1d20+9, the result is 26.
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