The new forums will be named Coin Return (based on the most recent vote)! You can check on the status and timeline of the transition to the new forums here.
The Guiding Principles and New Rules document is now in effect.
[DnD4e] "Monster Party" IC Thread
feeddannow
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
Chapter One: The Party Begins.
Renaul's Cafe is one of the few places in the city of Vrill that most consider to be "Neutral Ground". Situated as it is near the old central district, in the times before the War the Cafe was a stopping point for all manner of travelers coming and leaving the fair city. Now, after the human occupation, Renaul's Cafe is fixed between where the "Dungeon" starts and where the Human residences end.
The Dungeon is the colloquial name for the Monster Ghettos. With a lot of old bad blood between some of the races combined with the desperation of the times, the ghettos themselves are similar to battlefields at times - Humanazi patrols sent there were always in larger groups with shorter tempers.
It is a landmark for all that would move around the city. Though the tension surrounding the area is high - the cafe itself is seen as a sort of safe haven for both sides - a place where, at least in some respect - a place where both sides might have a quiet glass of elvish wine and forget about the unpleasantness of War.
Renaul himself is a domestically handsome half-elf of indeterminable age. He is constantly in motion, though whether this is a consequence of some nervous energy or simply an affectation is hard to tell. He is the epitome of a Vrillian half-elf: He is charming, genial, a bit of a womanizer, and has the bravery of a timid squirrel. He is scared to death of the Humanazis and the Resistance alike, and yet is forced to serve both on a daily basis. This sometimes causes him moments of odd panic.
He runs the cafe with two serving girls Vivette and Ylissa and his wife, a human woman of big heart, and bigger body.
We begin our story here, in the quaint cafe. It was five o'clock on a Varraday, and the usual crowd shuffled in to enjoy what is left of the evening before curfew. Helmen and Bertel, the goblin cobblers, sit at the bar eating the complimentary bar-snacks at too great a rate for Renaul's ability to keep the bowls filled and arguing about something in their chittering high pitched voices.
(Skill: PInsightDC 15, Success: The two are going on about the news of the downed airship. And they are trying to hold an argument at bar-volume while not being overheard - so they are relying on a lot of euphemism and a mixture of old and new slangs to convey their thoughts. Their thoughts, in summary are as follows:
Bertel: "The Eladrin won't just let their men get stranded out here. The Humans are looking all over for them."
Helmen: "You're an idiot for having faith in the Eladrin. You can't seriously believe that they're going to risk their necks on a couple of stupid air-ship-pilots… let alone us."
Bertel: "I bet there'd be a great reward for helping them out."
Helmen: "I bet you get strung up by your ears if you keep up your lunacy"
The reason for their discretion is but a few tables away.)
Over there sits, Lt. Gruebear and some of his underlings from the cavalry - their uniforms pressed and neat, boots shining - and they drink their fill of wine from glasses of fine crystal. An air of tense acceptance, the fragile illusion of safety and peace from the madness of WAR and its trappings, fills the air.
(Skill: Trained in Streetwise (No Roll Needed): Gruebear and his crew are among the few uniformed Humanazis to really frequent the Cafe for pleasure. For a Humanazi, he has a reputation for being incredibly chivalrous and merciful - traits that allow him some degree of respect by most of the Monsters that also frequent the Café. As long as it was Gruebear who the Colonel had watching the café, it wasn't some other jerk with an itchy crossbow finger or a score to settle.)
Or, it did fill the air, until Renaul's wife - on the request of Gruebear - started singing. Her warbling, out of tune voice makes up for skill by sheer volume. The old Elvish song she sang seemed to please Gruebear greatly - though his underlings wore grimaces of near-pain, thinly veiled with smiles. The other patrons of the bar, perhaps by now immune to the high-pitched near-misses, continue on with their own ramblings and drinking - albeit at increased volume as well.
Yes, everyone and everything was perfectly fine.
And in this corner, near the kitchen, at a grubby wooden table unworthy of further description, sat a handful of brooding figures. Their moods dark in contrast to the otherwise cheerful mood of the Cafe. Their leather mugs in front of them filled to the brim with the cheap piss-ale that is so common the source of nutrition for men of their caliber. Their monstrous shapes loomed over the table - nervously pouring over some document...
The grubby piece of paper was wadded terribly, stained with coffee, and the goblin-ink from the miniature type-machine that the writer used stank badly. (Language: Goblin, the letter is from two goblins - Scraggs and Jibber - who seem to have been investigating the logging efforts of the Humanazis. The letter says that Elves have been killing human loggers out there. It seems that the humans are upset about this. It concludes with a note that Scraggs has gone off to tail the elves while Jibber remained to spy on the humans.)
Secluded in their private corner, safe enough from prying eyes, and the "Music" more than providing an ample screen for any unwanted ears, the small cadre shared its thoughts on this development in hushed tones...
(The singing looks like it might go on for a while yet, and nobody seems to be paying any of you much mind. Feel free to begin and speculate wildly what the consequences of the events of the letter might mean - it's a chance to stretch your mental muscles and get into character. Let's try to keep pertinent, important OOC talk on this thread in the gray - and more discussiony setting questions in the OOC thread… hopefully that will cut down on jumping around thread-to-thread so much, because I'm lazy and so are you.)
feeddannow on
0
Posts
(Insight (1d20+1=21) (Crit) Success!; Not trained in Streetwise; Does not speak Goblin)
As one of his companions reads the missive, he looks from side to side and overhears the goblin cobblers discussing a pair of downed pilots. He looks around at the rest of the group, maintaining his act for Lt. Gruebear's benefit. He drinks down another bowl of wine. Avians are notoriously bad drinkers, but Jeremy has mostly overcome this through practice and hard endurance training.
"Comrades," he said, putting down his bowl and inclining his head towards the goblins. "Comrades, they speak of stranded Eladrin pilots. If we were to rescue and return these pilots, Eladrinia would surely recognize and assist our revolution." He sits back, trying to restrain his eagerness.
Wort takes a long draw from his ale, he felt it slide down his throat. Crawl would be a better term. The ale was more to protect his head from the wines of his feathered friend, for it seemed as if his voice was always one step away from annoying.
He let out a low croak, caused by the alcohol. Then said,"Besides, they're likely to see us just as the humans do...."
A fly buzzed by his head and landed on his mug. His tongue flew out, caught it, and immediately snapped back into its place.
"...monsters."
PSN: ChemENGR
"Anybody'd be taken aback by a four foot tongue, froggy," the goblin grinned from ear to ear. "Hrmm, it'd be really gutsy, but an airship would have plenty of parts and explody bits to salvage, besides the pilots' ransom, but who knows how many search parties are committed. Far sight better than getting in a three-way with humans and elves in a forest."
Remmy furrows his brow and mutters to himself in thought between gulps from his beer-stien and puffs of his cigar.
I guess Ill use PaleGreen for my talkie bits. and to keep it in coordination with goblin things...
Steam - NotoriusBEN | Uplay - notoriusben | Xbox,Windows Live - ThatBEN
He looked around the bar, awaiting his chance to discuss the matter with the goblins firsthand, preferably out of potential earshot of Lt. Gruebear.
The small goblin looked across the table at his odd company. A crow, a frog and a lizard. At least Remmy spoke the right language. Yet they were the only ones in this place who seemed like their hands were itching to scratch at the eyes of their human oppressors.
"Ten years ago, Nero would never think to help those feylegs. But ten years ago goblins weren't forced to live in this shantytown. Also Nero wasn't born yet. The feylegs probably won't want our help, but we should find out why they had airships so close to the Empire. If anything, whatever they are planning can be used as a distration. Also Nero is bored of sitting in this dumb cafe."
Nero takes a sip of the cheap ale, trying to mask his disgust for the swill and clearing his throat.
"Getting a chance to take down a few pinkies won't hurt either."
Gruebear's bootlicks still hold their looks of barely concealed discomfort, a testament to the regimen of mental disciplining of the Humanazis - their ability to withstand the audio-torture of Renaul's wife on their first contact. Gruebear himself looks lost in the music, perhaps even wistful.
Were it not for the conspiratorial lot in the corner, Renaul's café would have looked the part of a idyllic scene - and it would be hard to believe there was a war raging some miles away from here.
It was, for a moment, perfect.
It couldn't last for very long.
In a startling clatter of jack-boots on cobblestone and the officious thumping of leather-gloved hands on well-worn wood, an imperious female voice bellowed "Colonel Booooooor!"
The effect was immediate, Gruebear and his minions were at attention faster than one would think possible for a group that had been drinking considerable amounts of Renaul's wine. More impressive was the silence that instantly swallowed up all the conversation going on at the café. All eyes turned towards the door - which opened, revealing the portly figure of Colonel Boor - whose surname so aptly described his pink, piggish features - and his aide, Ulga Vonstrapp - whose beauty sharply contrasted the Colonel's grotesque nature. The Colonel saluted and let out a "Hail Defause!" - which gets an echoing response of varying levels of enthusiasm. If this phased the Colonel, it didn't show.
Renaul, composing himself, made his way through the even-more-crowded café and affected a apologetic and hospitable tone, "Ahh… Colonel, it is So good to see you so soon… I am sorry that it is so crowded here, it is so rare that we get your presence… Would you care for wine? Women? Perhaps my wife could sing something for you?" Before the Colonel could answer, Renaul's wife was already beginning to sing the Empire of Man's anthem - and before anyone can get their fingers in their ears properly - the Colonel interrupts.
"You insignificant speck, stop your blithering - AND STOP SINGING. If I hear that beautiful song sung in such a unsatisfactory tone again, I will burn down this entire street to drown out the noise. Right - it IS too crowded in here." As he said that, the patrons - who had been frozen in place only moments before - became suddenly animated - and it looked as if everyone had just remembered that there were other places to be…
Up to you guys if you want to slip out of the café now, or wait around. Obvious exits include back through the kitchen, through the front door, or through the windows.
Colonel Boor is the top of the military food chain here in Vrill. Gruebear reports directly to him. Boor is known for his voracious appetites - in money, women, and power - but it is rumored that he lacks the stomach for actual warfare - which many have guessed as to why he had been assigned the relatively safe task of overseeing the occupation of Vrill. Despite being a rumored coward, he wields a lot of power - and he certainly doesn't seem to be afraid of anything in the café, especially not with all of his bodyguards around.
I figure we're not sitting in public in our shiny armor and weapons (aside from hidden daggers or wands). Since this seems to be our hangout, we'd probably hide our stuff in the basement after coming in through the back window. Renaul is a pushover, so we'd cajole or threaten him until he agreed.
Krusjik looks disappoint at having to cower at the sight of the humans. "Although, if anyone knows of something we could drop in their food that would take a day or two to get them sick, we could use it, and they wouldn't be able to figure out where they got sick. Then, the human's would be weaker for a few days." Krusjik smiles at the thought of his plan.
"Kitchen sounds good to Nero."
Giving a quick glance to the old goblin pair playing stones, Nero leans over the table "If those cobblers are staying, we can drop by their shop tomorrow and see if they heard anything here."
Nero scoots himself off his seat and makes his way towards the back, keeping his face cast downwards.
"What I would give to take him where he stands." He whispers to Jeremy. After an agonizing second of indecision he turns from the colonel. Wort reluctantly strides into the kitchen, brooding the entire way.
BroodBroodBroodBroodBroodBroodBrood
PSN: ChemENGR
He scooted off his chair and made his way to the front door. Taking note of the new humans, and ready to pilfer any items of effect should he be accosted out the front door. After the altercation, Remmy meets back up with his crew at the back of the inn to discuss anything of import found.
Perception: Col. Boor and retinue, 1d20+7= 20
Thievery: Reaction if accosted: Trinkets of office or official documents, 1d20+10= 24
Normally I'd wait for dan to tell me if the thievery was possible, but Im being a little pre-emptive because I am gonna be in airports for about 15 hours+ today, and I dont want you guys waiting on me. Im going to use what ever IC table Pyg created for his insight check earlier to host my rolls.
Steam - NotoriusBEN | Uplay - notoriusben | Xbox,Windows Live - ThatBEN
The four monsters huddled in the kitchen have to fight for space as they stumble over the two bar-girls that help Renaul run the café as well as the two goblin cobblers that had a similar idea. The two gorgeous half-elves who look as if they may have been hired for qualifications better suited to the kitchen counters than the ovens themselves. The two girls look put upon as it was clear that they were trying to listen in as well - and now had to crowd around the remaining space with monsters that would not likely be paying them for their inconvenience.
Skill: Perception (DC 15)
Success: The Colonel and the Lieutenant have gone to urgent - but hushed tones.
"… I understand, mein Colonel, but what is it that I should do? I'm no artist!"
"Then find someone who is. I trust you would not disappoint me, will you? I do hate the thought of being disappointed as you are sent to the front with your little ponies to be ground up by the Giants on the East Front!"
"Ah, of course! Yes Colonel, I see… I will not let you down. But … what about Gruust?"
"Shh! Don't even say his name!"
There was a pause. A hanging silence that seemed to emphasize every creak of the floorboards, every shift of the foundation.
The moment passes and the Colonel continued.
"I want that forgery next week. I leave it to you."
Following that was the tradition exchange of "Hail Defause!" and the clomping of boots as the Colonel and his men leave. A few moments later the sound of Renaul clambering down the stairs back to the café-proper.
Outside the Café
As the patrons hustled out of the café under the watchful eyes of the jackbooted thugs, Remmy piled past. "Accidentally" bumbling into the goon at the door - who barked at the goblin with raw hatred and contempt - grabbed his arm and and glowered. Raising the cudgel in his left hand he gestured as if he were about to pound the artificer into green paste… but the wily artificer ducked low and squirmed out of the goon's grip. Outside, the streets were cold and empty - the other patrons quickly going home, rather than being caught outside with so many of the humanazis around.
Remmy looked at what he had fleeced from the guard.
Remmy: Thievery Success. As you were grabbed by the guard and tugging to get free, you managed to slide off the thug's Humanazi party ring. It's a silver ring with the H-crest of the empire. Soldiers sometimes wear emblems of the party, but rings like these are fairly uncommon - his family might have contributed a lot of resources to the party - or perhaps it was an award for diligent service. It's value on the street might be around 150 gold, if you could find someone that would be interested in buying one.
Situation Update:
The cafe is empty now, save for Renaul and his staff. The time nears curfew. The streets are empty.
As the conversation dies down, Nero looks around the kitchen for anything more edible or palpable than the honey and mud ale they were serving at the bar.
looking around the kitchen, for a fix... (1d20+8=22)
"Where'd Remmy go?"
The bird hastens into the kitchen after his fellows. "Remmy went 'round the front," he says. "Anybody hear anything? We should stay until they leave and pump Renaul for information."
"You boys fans of Nero too?"
"I'm tired of inaction. Battles are fought by men, not by shadows."
Silence.
"First the airship. If we must go, we must go quickly. The forgery can wait."
PSN: ChemENGR
Wort's tone takes on a more pressing tone, while still trying to maintain a hushed whisper. He rises from his seat.
PSN: ChemENGR
"Then if we are finished, let us grab Remmy and go."
Nero leaves the kitchen through the backdoor and walks towards the front to look for Remmy.
Perception, looking out for human guards (1d20+8=26)
Meeting up with the crew on the kitchen patio outback, Remmy motions that time is wasting. "We got a week for that forgery, I'd like to take a look at this airship everyone is so antsy to find."
Digging into his pockets again, Remmy pulls out another arcane geary-wiget and surveys his surroundings.
Arcane Check for Arcane Sentries = 29
Perception Check for Ordinary Guards = 20
I hope my attack rolls are this awesome, I'm on fire!
I've been playing Overlord II a lot recently (its got a similar theme with humans like this game) and Im a bit paranoid of Arcane Sentries. Of course, Im probably feeding dan ideas...
Steam - NotoriusBEN | Uplay - notoriusben | Xbox,Windows Live - ThatBEN
"Evading Curfew!"
Complexity: 3
8 Successes before 3 Failures
Success: The party makes it out of Vrill with no guard patrols in pursuit.
Failure: The party is caught out and may have to deal with a patrol before they can escape the city, losing time.
Additional Note: Timer
-This skill challenge is time sensitive. Characters may aid each other - but for each complete round of character activity time is passing. Keep this in mind before everyone decides to pile up the aiding on one player - this may guarantee success - but it will also cost you valuable time.
Skills:
Streetwise: Using your knowledge of the layout of Vrill and your familiarity with the actions of the humanazi guard patrols, you can evade detection simply by being in the right place at the right time. (DC: 10)
Stealth: Relying on pure skullduggery to escape notice, you can attempt to use your sneakiness to slip past the guards unseen. It's getting dark and the curfew patrols are just getting started. (DC:12)
Athletics: You could try to just make a dash for it. While running pell-mell through the city is likely to cause a stir, especially as curfew is drawing closer, it might be possible to outrun any incoming patrol and make it to the city gates. This might cause some alarm. (DC: 15)
Acrobatics: You could take to the rooftops. The buildings in Vrill are fairly close together, traversing from building to building might allow you to avoid most of the guards - though failures here might prove painful. (DC: 15)
Vrill stretched before them, a city in the twinklings of dusk, long shadows falling over their conspiratorial figures. In the distance, the bell tolling the hour of curfew began to chime...
Ok, we're not going to worry about initiative, and few free to strategize on the OOC thread before you roll, but please wait after you post your action for the next complete round to start before you post another action. As always, if you feel another skill might be useful, let me know in the OOC thread and we'll hash it out there - I'm pretty open minded about that sort of thing.
Athletics (1d20+8=17) Success!
A crowd of creatures passes and Wort joins their ranks as they walk through the streets. As they walk by an concealed ally, he slips into the growing shadows that were aided by the advancing night. He finds himself right under his bird comrade who was somehow perched on the roofs.
Not bad, he's not as useless as I thought. Wort parallels the avian's direction.
Stealth (1d20+9=19) Success!
PSN: ChemENGR
Leaning on the wall inside of one of the growing shadows, Wort finally appears next to Remmy. "What took ya?"the goblin whispered in a low voice.
Stealth Check = 24! CRITICAL SUCCESS!
Steam - NotoriusBEN | Uplay - notoriusben | Xbox,Windows Live - ThatBEN
Stealth (1d20+4=13) Success!
Stealth(escape from ny) (1d20+12=28)
"All too easy..."
5/8 Successes
0/3 Failures
Time Elapsed: 1 Skill Challenge Round, no penalty.
Carry on… once you guys get the 8th success stop rolling, you'll be safe enough for a minute or two before the next action occurs - for reference, the place you most likely want to be headed is to the farmsteads to the north - where the two cobblers were alluding to as the crash-site.
Stealth Check= 1d20+4=10 FAILURE!
Sorry, Fred, changed the flavor text to mesh a bit more with a saving assist.
Steam - NotoriusBEN | Uplay - notoriusben | Xbox,Windows Live - ThatBEN
Eventually the guard, satisfied with his search, went back to his post.
YAY! A failure. Remmy loses a healing surge as he tries to make up for lost time and presses himself a little to hard. Mmm... penalties are fun.
(2 more failures till meltdown...)
Athletics = 18: Success!
PSN: ChemENGR
Athletics (1d20+8=22) SUCCESS!
After the guard moved on without sounding any alarms, Nero continues on moving toward their distant goal, diving over small fences and pressing himself up against sheds to avoid the light from the few roaming patrols left.
Stealth (1d20+12=23)
…the bird surveys the farms surrounding Vrill stretching out before him from his perch at the top of the building. Only a little ways to go to get to the rendezvous point. He sees a door on the rooftop and goes down the narrow stairs beyond. The filthy tenement building has a central shaft ringed by cramped rooms. There is the sound of groaning and, from the first floor, an angry argument. Jeremy walks up to the rickety railing and looks down. A human in government attire is shouting at a scared-looking human woman while four guards are kicking down doors and rushing in to screams of terror. Jeremy steps back from the railing and looks for a way out. The door of one of the rooms along the north wall has nearly fallen from the hinges, and Jeremy makes his way over and peaks inside the room. Enough light still enters from the papered window to reveal the corpse of an old human fallen out of a chair unto the bed of newspapers and straw. The shouts get louder as Jeremy passes by the dead man and tears down the paper over the window. He leaps the easy distance to the next building and drops down the north side and rolls into a small copse of trees on the edge of the farmland. He looks around for the others, hoping that they all remember the agreed-upon rendezvous point.