(Arc 12-1) Intro the Demedais: Horse?!

[Anastasia]

> Spring breaks slowly in the Malmuthian Empire. Far removed from the Bay of Sparkling Stars and it's warm ocean winds, the land is locked in the torpor of winter's last reaches. Demedais heads north, towards his destination. Not the border between the Empire and the United Baronies, but to the nearest large city to it. (More)
> In a chilly day with frozen rain blowing in the wind, Demedais reaches his destination. Overcast skies frame Valandia - a walled city, a once sprawling trade down boxed in with a grand stone wall. Now only two entrances are found, choke point gates at the north and south sides of the town. The few travellers on the south side line up, waiting to be allowed in by the guards. A six man contingent, checking over each person that enters.
* Demedais eyes the guards, nodding over the organization. After a second of debate, he chooses to dismount while he passes the border guards - this is not his home, so it is best to show some respect for those who do run it.
* Demedais leads the mount toward the gates, and stands behind the last person in line, idly studying the citizens as he waits.
> The stone walls loom, thirty feet tall and casting a shadow over the the city. Taller buildings and towers can be seen over it, but much of Valandia is hidden from sight. The stone walls blend in with the stone gray clouds, freezing rain pelting Demedais. As he dismounts and waits, a few of the travelers ahead of him look. One is a tired looking farmer with a backpack full of sealed grains. Another is a soldier, waiting and yawning in boredom. A third is a well dressed man, waiting impatiently and tapping a wooden cane, one leg limp. The guards are quick but through, searching belongings ahead of you.
> boredom. A third is a well dressed man, waiting impatiently and tapping a wooden cane, one leg limp. The guards are quick but through, searching belongings ahead of you.
* Demedais nods in acknowledgment to the men who glance back, then proceeds to let his mind wander. A bit hard to do, what with the horse complaining constantly about the rain, but he'll be able to go soon - all Demedais needs is the horse's help to carry the remainder of his belongings to an inn, and then he can let the horse rest. He'd lost track of time, honestly - poor horse has probably been going for far too long.
> It's late afternoon, the rigors of travel indeed wearing on. Soon enough, the reverie of mindwandering is broken, as the guards turn their attention to him. "Welcome to Valandia, traveler. State your business and declare any mysticism you may be bringing."
<Demedais> "I am a pilgrim and paladin of Helm, being called home to my temple in Balmuria. I seek to stay in this town to rest a night or two before finishing my journey home. As for mysticism, I carry with me a ring gifted to me by the Temple, and that's... about it." He ends a bit lamely, with a grin to the soldier. "Three potions to keep me sustained, and then simply all the usual traveler's gear."
> The guards are all hard face, eagle eyed men. They bear scars, none of them particularly young. Yet none even blinks, the one talking nodding. "Very well. Do not cause trouble in this city for your stay. Imperial Law states that misuse of rare magic for criminal means or worse is a grave offense."
<Demedais> "Understood, sir. Where would I find the nearest inn with a stable for my horse?"
> "There's a few just inside," Waving towards the gate with a free hand, while the other holds a long spear pointed to the sky, "Make sure you have money. Sleeping in the streets is not permitted."
<Demedais> "That shouldn't be a problem, sir. Thank you very much." He nods and leads his horse a bit into the gates, looking around  to make sure he can see the aforementioned inns.
> The gates are solid steel, moved ever so slowly by pulleys and levers. Inside you see a clean, quiet city street, several inns ahead in a small cul de sac. Roads go to the east and west, away from where easy inns are found. Four in total, each one havign a large stable.
* Demedais walks slowly into the cul-de-sac, just a -titch- unnerved by the quiet, but hey, it's raining. He eyes the names of the four inns, hoping to get some sort of an idea of the quality by name and perhaps by appearance.
> A few people are on the east-west street, but most hurry along and do not pay any mind to Demedais. The Crooked Cat, the Black Steed, the Star of the Empire, and Margnan's.
* Demedais eyes the four, before turning to the Black Steed. White and grey, black, same thing, right? The horse passes along some snide empathic comments as Demedais walks to the front of the inn, approaching the stables first because Horse is getting increasingly agitated.
> As you approach the stables, you are startled by a crashing sound from inside! The doors are open, letting the noise of something very heavy hitting something hard be heard. A few horses are heard whinnying after, sudden movement.
* Demedais blinks, before a slight smile curves his face. A bar fight, is it...? Time to check. Demedais indicates that Horse should stay inside the stable and kick anyone that moves to take him before stepping toward the open door to glance inward.
> As you head to the open door, you see two people spill out! One is a scarred faced man, the other a young man in armor! The two are grappling and punching each other, going at it and spilling to the ground! "Give it back, you thief!" the armored man calls, struggling.
> You can see the face of the armored man. It's scarred, like he's been in one too many fist fights. His blue eyes are narrowed and vicious, showing fiery anger! The other man is broad, also scarred up, but this one carries it easily. Deeper scars, the sort of scars a sword or dagger makes. He grins as they grapple, "Don't know what yer talkin' about!"
<Demedais> "Gentlemen." Demedais strolls up to a semi-respectable distance (about three to four feet away) and coughs loudly. *Wish I had more metal on me than just my sword...* "I'd like to encourage you two to settle this claim, calmly and rationally, before I am forced to bonk your heads in myself for such undignified behaviour." He slowly draws his sword before putting the tip on the cobbled street, holding the hilt in his right hand.
> They both turn and look at the drawn sword, the grappling slowing. By unspoken agreement they break, eyes on the weapon. Huffing in and out, the young man, barely past his teenage years, glares. "This man is a pickpocket and stole a holy symbol of my faith!"
> The older man crosses his arms, spitting. "Yer just drunk. Had too much ale for you, churchboy?"
<Demedais> "Hm. A holy symbol, you say. Of what type was it, good sir?" Demedais addresses the older man, with a cautionary look at the young man to stay silent. *Hopefully he gets the point, but I wouldn't bet on it.* Demedais mused silently.
> "How should I know," he sneers, "I ain't the one bitchin' and moanin'." Meanwhile, you can hear footsteps coming from the gates, heavy ones of metal.
<Demedais> "Hmm. Here come those friendly guards... I guess you made a bit more ruckus than you'd have liked to. Now, sir. If you do have the symbol - not saying you do, but if you do - it would be best to give it over now. They're likely to search you if they even think there's a chance you have it, and I'm sure you know how... rough a search can be." Demedais' grin was almost face-splitting. He then turned to the young man. "As for you..
<Demedais> If you're falsely making this accusation, that will not turn out well for you, even if it is an error on your part. Are you sure you did not simply... drop it?" he said with a nod.
> "Drop it?! Oh come no, I wouldn't lose something like that! It's a silver disk of the sun! No way it gets lost!" Glaring now and waving his arms, "That's right, search him! I need it for when I get out of here tomorrow!"
> The younger man so speaks, irritated and huffing.
> "Grr...sonuvabitch." Muttering, the older man reaches into his pants pocket, withdrawing a small silver disk, like the rising sun. "Yeah, you dropped it, and you can't prove otherwise," he mutters, eyeing the guards. "Was gonna return it to you before you went nuts, damn hothead."
* Demedais nods, smiling and holding out a hand toward the younger man. "Good to hear this. Now, if you two will relax, I shall explain the situation to the guards. Young man, I wish to talk to you for a minute later. Sir, you have a good night." He nods and steps back, so that he can see the two people and the guards approaching, gesturing to the guards a bit.
> "Grr..." The younger one glares a hole into the older, but both stay quiet. One guard goes to the two men, while another comes towards Demedais. "You a part of this," he asks, voice gruff.
<Demedais> "No, sir. They were having a dispute, and I was able to help them resolve it. My apologies that you even had to be distracted from your work for this." Demedais bowed his head and a small part of his back.
> Meanwhile, the other guard tells the two belligerents to sit down. The guard talking to you nods once, curtly. "Yeah, heard you talking at the gate. We'll let the sarge at the watch station sort it out. Going to want to make a statement?"
<Demedais> "I... have no proof of any wrongdoing on either side; my only comment is that I would watch the older man, as he was... He had the symbol the young one was looking for. This whole situation seems to have started on an accusation of theft, but I don't think either side will be able to prove anything, much to my regret." Demedais looks up at the guard. "I'm willing to make a statement, but would you let me board my horse and my ba
<Demedais> "my bag first?"
> "Yeah, sure." The guard nods as the other pats down the two, taking a dagger away from the older man, then a wicked looking sap from the younger. "Isn't that a thieves weapon," the searching guard inquires suspiciously.
> "...In case rats and furniture get in my way again..." the younger man mutters, shaking his head, "My sword's still inside. Dammit..."
> "See? Drunk off his ass!" The older one chimes in, "If he's talkin' about fighting rats and chairs, he's gotta be!"
> "I haven't had a drink today!" The younger snaps back, fists balling up. "It's just an old stupid story, shut up already!"
> "That's enough," The guard holding the dagger and sap grunts, "Don't make us haul the two of you in screaming. Sarge won't like that."
<Demedais> roll 1d20+7 for Knowledge: Religion check on the disk
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+7 for Knowledge: Religion check on the disk and gets 20." [1d20=13]
<Demedais> Demedais raises an eyebrow at the weapon, then looks at the guard for a second before eyeing the two men. "In all honestly, a few nights in jail might get these two to act more maturely... Young man, care to explain your 'old story' comment?" He walked toward the young man, stopping between him and the entrance to the hotel to indicate he was getting a bit impatient.
> "In another city, the rats come out of the sewers at the command of dark lords!" The young man blurts out, "Ghouls walk the streets at night. It's a horribly dangerous place, but..."
> The guard next to you sighs, "...Let's just go, the two of you. You can tell the Sarge about this city all you want. If you'd come along, we'll get your statement first so you can get back to your business."
<Demedais> "Mmm... alright. Let me grab my horse." Demedais walked over to the stable, and withdrew a winter blanket which he threw over the horse. *Better than nothing, and I'm not leaving you alone, even here.* He then proceeded to follow the guards.
> The paladin's mount seems content with the blanket. The guards lead you down the streets - a few people peer out from the inns, a couple of passersby braving the freezing rain to get a look at the disturbance. But it's fundamentally a city late in the day with nasty weather, few bothering to brave it. The guard station is the first floor of a three story government building at the end of the street. Inside is a large room with several iron barred cells in back, the two lead unceremoniously to a single cell each. (More)
> several iron barred cells in back, the two lead unceremoniously to a single cell each. (More)
> There's a few chairs around a beaten old table in the center, a latern sitting there and providing the windowless floor light. Here a gruff older man sits, hair shot with gray and a nasty scowl on his face. He watches the two taken to the cells, "Get names, if they're city residents or travelers and all that," he instructs one, while the other guard salutes.
> "A witness to the incident, sir, claiming to be a paladin."
> The sarge wears a chainmail tunic and has flabby, broad arms. He crosses those arms as the guard reports. "..eh? Should be something," he nods towards Demedais, "Sit 'em down and tell me what happened."
* Demedais does a small bow to the man behind the desk before sitting. "I was approaching the inn when I saw the two burst out of it fighting. I got the two to separate with, ah, the note of my greatsword near them." Demedais coughs a bit, then continues, "I then ascertained that the young one had lost a holy symbol, I believe of Lathander. I managed to get the older man to give it over after noting your guards coming over, but I c
<Demedais> "cannot prove either the young man's statement that he stole it, or the older man saying he picked it up. Regardless, he tried to keep it from the younger man - denied having it on him until the guards did approach" Demedais paused a second to think. "Of course, this was after the disc was described, so it doesn't mean too much." He looked up at the sergeant. "I cannot think of anything else to add."
> "Bunch of hotheads, it sounds like. Few months o' work will fix them." A nod to Demedais, strong. "Thank you. We'll take care of this now, so you're free to go."
* Demedais nods and stands up. After a second of hesitation, he bows and says, "Helm watch over you gentlemen," before turning and passing through the door out to the street. Taking the horse, he walked back to the inn, just a bit exhausted himself.
> OOC: Were you going to do anything else of note past tat?
<Demedais> OOC: Not other than return/pay inkeep for room/take room/sleep for four hours and pray for four, so the horse has time to rest.
> OOC: Okay. That'll put you somewhere in the late night. Are you going to try to leave right then?
<Demedais> OOC: Mmm, right, it was afternoon and not evening. Probably best not to... hm. Pray four/sleep four/pray four, that should get me to morning, right?
> OOC: Should, yeah.
<Demedais> OOC Then go with that.
> The inn is paid for, a simple bed and meal provided. The chilly night passes in reflection and meditation, prayer a wonderful rest of the spirit. Demedais sees the morning light rise from his window, the cloud cover gone. It's a day of sunshine, cool winds on the wings of golden light. It looks like a good day to resume your journey.
* Demedais nods silently and stands up. *You better be rested, we've got a long trip ahead of us, Horse.* he empathed before donning his clothing, gathering his items and leaving the inn.
> Demedais heads out. As he does, the innkeeper sits at the front desk. A kindly old man, a smile on his face and old, smudged spectacles worn. "Good morning," he calls as you pass. "Are you leaving us today, traveler?"
<Demedais> "I'm afraid so. Thank you for your hospitality, however, good sir. May Helm watch over you." Demedais smiled and bowed a little. "I hope you had no more troubles last night after those two hooligans?"
> "Oh, it happens..." Bowing his head respectfully, the innkeep pauses. He struggles with a frown, words stopping. "Sir, is what I heard true? Are you a paladin of the Vigilant One?"
<Demedais> "Yes, sir, I am. What, is there an issue I can help you with?"
> The innkeeper looks around, back and forth. Seeing that no one else is up yet, the only sounds coming from a kitchen a few rooms away, "Sir, ...I advise you to hurry along." His voice drops, face drawn tight. He speaks with a waver, "Please, hurry along, good sir."
<Demedais> "Will you be in any danger, since I have stayed here?" Demedais asks.
> "No, no...just..." A shake of his head, "Travellers are not looked kindly on these days. It would be best for you if you hurry on and leave this town." He looks down adn away from you, at his hands held below.
<Demedais> "...then I shall take your advice, sir. Take care, and stay safe." Demedais bows deeply and leaves the inn, a bit disturbed. *Something else to make a note of, I suppose...*
> Demedais heads out. His mount awaits him, the southern gate back towards the reaches of Mamluth close. The northern gate towards the United Baronies is on the other side of the town. In this weather many people are going by, workers hauling, carts of vegetables and meat coming in from the southern gate and other such foot traffic.
* Demedais debates not riding Horse out of town before deciding that leading him out will look just as silly, Mounting, he sets off at a reasonably brisk pace for the northern city gate.
> On his noble steed, Demedais begins to ride through the city. At first there is a batch of shops, mundane but copious goods from all over Malmuth on sale. A few guards walk ever street, the citizens staying respectful and quiet. But past the first few streets, you come to a row of boarded over shops, few people walking this way. The ones that do seem to have no intention of stopping, simply using it as a byway instead.
* Demedais eyes both sides of the street, looking at the shops but not really stopping. Odd to see the center of a city boarded up so heavily... this part of the town must have fallen on hard times. Sigh... times are tough.
> Past this you pass another street of closed off shops, then housing. Past this you come to a small temple section. Temples to Lathander and Torm can be seen, but neither are that big. However, the one to Tempus is bigger. This one looks well used, a keep fortress serving as it's worship spot. On this street, you see that new trees are being planted on the sides. Men in plain black breeches and little else are here, a large detachment of guards watching over them.
>  guards watching over them.
* Demedais nods respectfully as he continues on. *And Tempus has a large following here... That is perhaps a bigger reason for worry. An area struggling to get by will use its tools in whatever way it feels it needs...*
> A few of the guards glance at Demedais as he passes. One or two snort, but most pay you no mind at all. Past this you go, just another person going along in the grand city. Past this you pass by the garrisons - indeed, several of them. Enough to house thousands and thousands of troops, a long massive ride through a part of it. Here soldiers are like water, walking, training, doing duty, resting. The buildings here are all sturdy, reinforced and unornamented. Some of the food carts come to this place, going into large mess halls.
> The buildings here are all sturdy, reinforced and unornamented. Some of the food carts come to this place, going into large mess halls.
* Demedais idly glances at the armies as he rides through, vaguely attempting to estimate the numbers but not looking around too much to emphasize his foreignness. Won't do any good to cause problems here.
> Demedais would estimate several thousand and rising. For as he reaches the end, he sees the next section of town has been condemned and torn down. Here, a great mass of black breeched men work, the sound of construction a massive din. New barracks and quarters are made with a singleminded speed, carts full of wood and supplies all about. As you pass by one cart, you see a few men hauling wood out of one, none looking happy at all. One in particular, a young, hotheaded man you know. The one who had a holy symbol stolen from him, no less.
>  One in particular, a young, hotheaded man you know. The one who had a holy symbol stolen from him, no less.
* Demedais nods as he continues on. Some hard work should cool him down rather well enough, be productive for him.
> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 and gets 3." [1d20=1]
> The man's lost in his work, looking more and more irritated and unhappy, but he doesn't seem to even notice Demedais. So on he goes, passing down. Past here are great ironworks and merchant shops, carts coming in from a distantly seen northern gate. Merchants carrying almsot invariably huge amounts of raw iron, mules and horses carrying countless pounds of it.
* Demedais idly wishes he could get away with writing all this down so he wouldn't need to try and recall it from memory. But no, looking like a spy is a bad thing for a good reason. Nodding again to himself, he continues on toward the gate.
> OOC - Listening check, would you?
<Demedais> OOC - Kayo.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+1 and gets 17." [1d20=16]
> Hm? As Demedais heads along, he hears some commotion behind him. The sound of a horse's hooves racing, slamming on the ground, some distant and faint shouts.
* Demedais directs his horse to one side of the street, craning back to see precisely what the fuss is about. *Keep going, Horse. This doesn't sound too good.*
> As Demedais goes to the side, he's soon joined by the couple of other people on the streets, carts strugglign to get out of the way! Down the street a single horse gallops as fast as it can go! You see a young shirtless man in black breeches riding the horse hard, blue eyes narrowed intensly ahead for the gate!
<Demedais> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+1 and gets 14." [1d20=13]
* Demedais blinks at the young man passing by. However, the instinct to pursue is halted by the people who moved alongside him, stopping his progress. Well, then, hopefully the city guard can get that young man to calm down with a few weeks in the stocks...
> To be fair, Demedais ssees that he could get around them without trouble if he wished. They're not pinning him bodily in or anything.
<Demedais> OOC - Mmm. I had read your commentary as having the carts around me enough that getting out could cause problems. Still, no pursuit - I couldn't accelerate fast enough first off, not realistically at least, and secondly he's not gonna get far in town unless he's really lucky. (Which he probably is, but minor point.)
> OOC: Okay. Fair enough, we'll pick up here when you get back. Just trying to make sure you know you have options and allt hat.
<Demedais> OOC: Appreciated. It's tempting, but sometimes the better part of order is letting others handle it. <_<;
> OOC: HEh, okay. Poke me in PM or #elysium when you live again
> In a galloping race he goes! No one ahead seems to be expecting him, innocent people diving out of the way, guards staring in the few seconds they have and unable to act!  You see him heading straight for the gates, currently open as the men there begin to respond. It looks like it's going to be a race.
* Demedais grumbles. Well, this will prove to be a deuced inconvenience. He slows Horse down to a steady trot and watches the show.
> roll 1d20+1 gate guard initiative
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 gate guard initiative and gets 20." [1d20=19]
<Demedais> Ouch. >_>;
> roll 1d20+1 Donald initiative
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 Donald initiative and gets 4." [1d20=3]
> The guards react as well as years of training and experience can allow them to! Most of them go to start closing the gate, the vast stone door swinging shut! But one remains, stepping back and readying his spear as the young man approaches! His gallop by gives him the perfect chance to impale his horse!
> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+4 and gets 12." [1d20=8]
> But he's moving way too fast! The spear thrust only gets the air just past the steed's brown tail, a single strand of horsehair swirling in the air! The young man sees the gate closing as he approaches, spurring his horse on to try and make it!
> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 and gets 8." [1d20=7]
> Fortune does not always favor the brave.  The gate is a moment too fast - while the majority of the horse gets through, you can catch a glimpse of it pinning the animal's tail, the cry of the horse heard even to Demedais! But he can see no more, the way and what happend to the young man hidden by the closed gate now.
* Demedais winces as the cry is heard, stroking Horse's mane a bit. *That... had to hurt.* he thought as he continued toward the gate, slowly.
> Horse even seems to jostle at that noise, as the street hesitantly returns to normal. A few guards head to the gate, which opens as you approach. The horse is there, falling over as the gate is open. It whinnies very loudly, writhing on the ground. But no sign of Donald, just a few guards in the distance, heading north.
<Demedais> OOC: Do the guards look/would I know if the guards do a search of everyone leaving?
> As Demedais approaches, he notes that no one is leaving ahead of him right now. There are less guards there than usual, the few that remain talking amid themselves. The one who missed with the longspear is glaring out towards the north. But it is normal for at least a brief search and questioning.
* Demedais nods to the guards, and dismounts, motioning for Horse to stay still. He turns to the nearest guard who appears to be in command, and awaits conversation.
> It takes them a moment, a lanky, greasy haired corporal grunting at the paladin. "Where are you going?" he asks, to the point. "Anything to declare?"
<Demedais> "I am returning to my home temple in Balmuria." Demedais states succinctly. "Nothing to declare."
> There's a pause at that, getting some looks. "...hey. You the paladin I heard about," he says, as ahead you see and hear a horse in agony.
<Demedais> "Most likely, yes, I would be that paladin you heard about." Demedais grimaced briefly before he turned to Horse, and then the horse in the road. "May I heal that horse, so that it isn't making such a noise anymore? It happens to be disturbing my steed..."
> "Magic..." The soldiers trail off, looking to each other. It's the corporal that acts, a nod. "Yeah, go on. Was wondering if we'd have to get it put down otherwise."
<Demedais> "Very well." Demedais approaches the poor thing, approaching it from its back so as not to be struck by flailing legs. Nodding slightly, he placed his hands on the mount's wound and infused it with energy. (Lay On Hands, up to 12 HP or until it's fully healed.)
> It doesn't take too much effort, the torn tail mending in a few seconds. The horse stops it's cries of pain, thrashing ending with the touch of Demedais. OOC - 4 HP spent and more.
<Demedais> OOC Alright.
> The guards stare at your blessed power, one of them whistling. "By the King..." the corporalmarvels, "You're the straight goods, aren't you? Real live paladin after all..." Trailing off at that, "Be safe, sir! You may  have seen a fugitive escape, so be on the look out. He may be dangerous."
* Demedais nods and stands up, watching as the horse slowly get back on its feet. "Seems like a good mount. Would have been a waste to let you die there, boyo." He slowly leads the horse back to them and nods. "I did witness the man escape, and I believe I recognized him. If I find him, I will bring him back. He's... disturbed, but likely not dangerous."
> It takes some effort to get the horse up, but you quickly get help from the guards. "Please do," they say, standing aside. "Go on."
* Demedais nods.
<Demedais> "Thank you very much, gentlemen. May your faith protect you." Mounting Horse, he begins to march into the sunse- oh, wait, it's morning. sunrise, then.
> Indeed, Demedais heads out to town. Horse sets off at a good trot, the gate left behind without trouble. Ahead of you are open fields and roads, a few scarce farms operating. There are shells of more, but they are war damaged or torn down, instead hints of barricades and the like being developed. (More)
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 46." [1d100=46]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 13." [1d100=13]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 20." [1d100=20]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 42." [1d100=42]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 26." [1d100=26]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 64." [1d100=64]
> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d100 and gets 77." [1d100=77]
> It is a quiet trip. Little of note happens or occurs on it. In fact, it's unusually calm. You're not close enough to the barbarian lands for trouble and you barely even sight any patrols, Malmuthian or from the Baronies. It is a pleasant afternoon as you find the final road segment to Balmuria. The gated city lies ahead fo you, two guards at the gate. It bustles with life and activity, the scent of the sea  on a warm, springlike breeze. Small strands of white smoke rise from chimneys, high prowed ships in the harbor.
> Small strands of white smoke rise from chimneys. High prowed ships in the harbor can be glimpsed, faraway yet rising like towers.
* Demedais is grinning as he approaches town. So good to be home... the food, the women, the sea, the women, the old temple of Helm, the women... First, to check in at the temple. ...well, first, to check in at the gates, THEN to the temple.
> There are two guards at the gate. One is a grizzled man with a mustache, bearing proper and calm. The other is a younger man, rakish hair under his helmet and smiling despite his work. "Hail," the younger one calls, when you're just a bit too far away to make it comfortable. The older sends the younger one a glance, but he carries on. "Welcome to Balmuria, traveler. Come to a stop in front of us and we'll get this going."
* Demedais nods and dismounts, leading the horse up to the two men. "So, gentlemen, how fares Balmuria today?" Demedais bellows perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
> The older clears his throat, silencing the younger. "Quite well, recent problems aside. Lord Salman is well and our city is safe. Now then, do you have any magic to declare?"
> The younger one just chuckles, "I don't think he's dangerous, Wedge. He's not even with the Captains, so relax.:
<Demedais> "Only my ring from the temple, good sir. "
> Wedge nods once, briefly. "Alright, describe it. What does it do, and what temple are you heading to?"
> The younger relaxes, not getting a reply and instead waiting.
<Demedais> "It sustains me so I may go for longer without food, water or sleep, and I head back to the temple of Helm."
> "...Helm? Huh," The younger adds in, "'kay, anything else you're going to do or note or anything you have?"
<Demedais> "Um, other than rest for a bit, I have no current plans, nor do I have anything other than my pilgrimage fare on me.
> This time it's Wedge that takes over, clearing his throat again. "Sir, do I presume that you are aware of recent going ons at your temple?"
<Demedais> "Um, I've been away for five years, so no, I wouldn't be aware of the recent going ons. What, has something happened?"
> "There's no danger now, no matter what Biggs says, sir." Wedge continues without missing a beat, "There has been a problem with ghouls, and the masoleum associated with Helm's temple was the first sight they infested. I would recommend heading back to your temple for the details beyond this."
* Demedais stares.
> "It's true," Biggs says quickly. "But since the Captains are around, it's not that big a deal. They rekill...or whatever, to ghouls as fast as they pop up."
<Demedais> "...Ghouls? Was anyon- no, thank you gentlemen. I will go see what has happened." Without hesitating, Demedais mounts Horse, nods to the two, and heads into town, mind focused intently on the temple. *Gah! Had I realized this is what the pull meant....*
> Biggs smiles as you go, waving and smothering a yawn after. So you head into the city! Balmuria is lively and strong, moreso than you remember. The Malmuth Empire is a long gone memory now, the United BAronies prospering. You turn away from the Temple of Waukeen and the trading grounds, instead heading back to your temple. It is a quiet place as you return, the Battlehall awaiting. Inside, you can see the grand altar and the hall itself...
* Demedais rides Horse around to the back and dismounts at the stable, nodding briefly to the stablehand and showing his symbol before quickly walking into the temple, in search of the Head Priest.
> So you head to the temple proper. On going there, you see familiar faces at the alter. Father Ceiar is there, talking to a man you know less well, but know nonetheless. Watchman Karl is there, both locked in conversation. They're keeping their voices relatively low, guards just inside standing attention. Very much attention, rigidly so.
* Demedais heads to within fifteen feet of the altar, then executes a deep bow and a quick prayer before walking up to Father Ceiar.
-> [Dracos2] PING
> After the prayer your movement and words finally get attention. Both turn, Father Ceiar breaking into a grin. "Demedais?" he nearly bellows in a instant, "Have you returned at last?"
> Watchman Karl is a short man, not quite middle aged. His beard is not yet gray, wearing a plain robe with chainmail visible beneath. He eyes the paladin, inclining his head respectfully.
<Demedais> "It is good to see you as well, Father Ceiar!" Demedais returns. "I've indeed come back, after feeling I was needed here. It sounds like I was a bit too late for the first problem, however."
* Demedais nods to Karl respectfully. *Mmm, guards. This is good.*
> The face of both men darken - Karl looks unhappy, while Father Ceiar bows his head down. "Yes. On our own sacred resting grounds, we were too lax. A foul, cursed energy turned resting bodies into mindless ghouls. Helm has...corrected our mistakes."
> "A feeling you were needed?" Watchman Karl inquires, "Yes, a lot has happened here. I would not doubt that Helm may have guided you back in this difficult time."
* Demedais nods. "At least we are now well aware of the danger, Father." He smiles at Ceiar, then glances at Karl. "Indeed. It seems quite fortuitous that I have come back at this time, thanks to Helm." Demedais turns back to Ceiar. "Any... did anyone fall to the ghouls, or did you manage to contain them before any damage could be done?"
> "No one...thanks partly to the Crimson Guard. They were the ones who found where the plague originated and extinguished it before it could become too deeply rooted. We have studies on the creature that spawned the ghouls, but there are reports of more coming, so it may have only been part of the chain."
> Father Ceiar breathes out at that last, clasping your shoulders. "Even in this, it is good to have you back. You've grown."
<Demedais> Demedais grins widely, and takes Ceiar's shoulder in his right hand. "You haven't changed much - a relief to my eyes, I assure you. It... it is good to be back. I intend to stay for a while, this time, Father Ceiar!" After a chuckle, he asks, "Crimson Guard? A new organization, I take it?"
> "Started by Lord Salman. An academy named after him is here, training an elite guard. There's only a few now - the first batch, but they're extremely competent. A few magic users as well, even." He pauses a moment, looking to the Watchman. It is Karl who speaks now, "Lord Helm even blessed them personally...after our own failings."
<Demedais> "Helm personally... hm." He lowered his head in thought, then chuckled. "Still, for now the crisis is over, and it seems like we can control it from here on, no?" He looked at their two faces and shook his head, laughing. "I have depressed you two too much. Shall we retire to a back room for a bit? I would like to hear of what else has happened while I have been gone."
> "I have business to attend to...but it is good to see you again," Watchman Karl nods his head, taking your hand and shaking it. "May Helm continue to watch over you."
> "Yes, let's," Father Ceiar says agreeably, "It has been...too, too, too long."
* Demedais nods at Karl. "It has been too long, friend. Helm watch over you as well." He nodded as he went off with Ceiar.
> Soon you are in the back rooms. This one is simple, a study room with a few bookshelves and heavy tables. HEre you sit, drink and food brought. Over warm bread and cool water, the story begins. "It was quiet most of the last four years. After some initial problems, trade with Malmuth picked up. They pay well for our iron, and we use that money to strengthen our new nation." He says after a mouthful of bread, putting his food down. "But this year...first, there were brief problems with goblin raids on the border farmsteads near the Barbarian lands.  Then...the ghouls came."
> "But this year...first, there were brief problems with goblin raids on the border farmsteads near the Barbarian lands.  Then...the ghouls came." (More)
> "It was a few night sin a row - people saw them and were attacked. Those bitten came down with a horrible fever. But then the guard came, knowing that they were in our tomb. The Crimson Guard and a few others. I hear the battle was pitched, but they won. The heresy in our own tombs was stomped out. From there? After Lord Helm spoke to them and us..." He pauses to drink water, eyeing Demedais solemnly. "There have been problems. More ghouls, from a butcher's shop if the stories are true this time.  Talks of magic around, of demonic cat creatures walking with the Elite Guard. (More)
> More ghouls, from a butcher's shop if the stories are true this time.  Talks of magic around, of demonic cat creatures walking with the Elite Guard. (More)
> After all that, Father Ceiar pauses. Instead, he breathes in and out, before laughing. "..and on talking about it, I sound like an overexcited trainee. This is only half of it, too."
<Demedais> "It truly has been tumultuous this past year, hasn't it?" Demedais laughs. "Ghouls, huh..." He shakes his head, in a bit of surprise. "And this Crimson Guard seems like it has come just in time, as well. I would not be surprised if Helm is moving in far deeper circles than what we can see..."
> "Indeed. They are the ones that saved Lord Salman's life after a most foul assassination attempt. Poison beyond the pale..." Letting his head go down again, "WE were blessed that they were able to save him."
* Demedais nods, head down for a moment in contemplation.
<Demedais> "This... Crimson Guard. Tell me more about them." Demedais says, pushing an slice of bread over to Ceiar.
> He takes the bread, holding it as he speaks.
> OOC - Gah. Premature enter key.
<Demedais> OOC - The destroyer of worlds.
> He takes the bread, holding it as he speaks. "As I said, Lord Salman formed them to be an elite force in Balmuria and on the border. As manpower is low, a strong spearhead to protect and serve our nation. Shamal, a priestess of the wild and magi. Seira, a magi and archer. Lyselle, a swordsman. Berlioz, a storyteller and magic user."
* Demedais inclines his head. "They are the elite group that was mentioned, I take it?"
> "Yes." A slight nod back, water drank after and then a mediating smile. "They are the ones Helm spoke to as well."
<Demedais> "...to them as well as to here..." Demedais mutters before lapsing into a deep train of thought.
> "Hm?" Ceiar inquires, curious. "You mentioned that Helm called you here, did you not?"
<Demedais> "I was pulled here, yes, by his hand I believe. And when you mention those four... a self-similar pull. I believe that..." Demedais hesitated, thinking. "It seems as if I have been called both back here, Father, and to this... Crimson Guard."
> "...I had wondered as such with theway you latched onto that right off." Pausing yet again a moment, eyes distant, "I remember when you vanished for a time, and then we met again as you prayed. If you believe Helm to pull you along, then I will be glad to see you there, and will request for the High Priest to ask Commander Oberuth on our behalf."
<Demedais> "That would be greatly appreciated... Ceiar, thank you." Demedais looked up, smiling. "And... I am sorry for worrying you for so long."
> "Helm guided you. I did not worry...much." He smiles strongly at that, clasping your shoulder and striking it a few times. "My boy, at worst, I'm sure Helm's vigilence would help you in a pinch. Then I'll see about getting that meeting straightaway."
<Demedais> "Thank you. His vigilance did indeed assist me greatly. As did Horse."
> Father Ceiar is simple about it, explaning it quickly this sunny morning. "Commander Oberuth sent word he'd meet with you. Go to the garrison, they should escort you in." So you stand at the exit to the temple, the streets beginning to pick up as morning breaks. "Mind your manners and be curteous."
<Demedais> "I shall, Father. Thank you." With a bow, Demedais steps out into the street, and then pauses for a second before turning back to Ceiar. "Ah, father. Where did they build the garrison?"
> "Oh." A pause and a laugh, "It's where the old garrison was for Malmuth, near the center of the city."
<Demedais> "Excellent. Thank you again." With a nod, Demedais strode toward the center of town with a bit of a jump in his step.

[Anastasia]

---Meanwhile---

> This morning comes with summons. The two meet Commander Oberuth not in the normal meeting room, but in a quiet hall of the garrison not far removed.  He waits there, arms crossed. "Tell me," he asks as the two approach, "Has Helm sent  you anything of note lately? Done anything at all? Visions, omens, little voices in your head?"
<Seira> "My head is free of the little noises, Sir," Seira responds dutifully.
<Shamal> "Uhh..." Shamal momentarily looks a bit lost as she wracks her memory, before slowly shaking her head. "I dreamt Balmuria was under seige by giant... you know what, I'll just say that probably had nothing to do with Helm, so no," she concludes authoritatively.
> "Good to hear, Seira," Oberuth notes a moment, "It has come to my attention that a paladin of Helm has felt pulled to the garrison and wants to join the Crimson Guard."
<Seira> "Sounds like Helm is still on our side, so we must be doing something right."
<Shamal> "Fortuitous timing," the blonde observes, clasping her hands primly behind her back,
> "Yes. Now, I don't doubt the man directly." He pauses, considering this long. "If he's telling the truth, then it would be foolish to turn him away. What I want you to do is meet him and see what he knows, and see if you think he's on the level. See how capable he is, too."
<Seira> "You want us to challenge him to a duel, Sir?" Seira asks, raising an eyebrow.
> "Nothing that obvious," A tsk there, "I want to make sure he's strong enough to where he won't be a liability to thet wo of you or himself. That's all."
* Seira nods. "Yes, Sir," she says curtly.
<Shamal> "A pity we still haven't found any solid leads on the source of the undead problem. A paladin would surely be in his element dealing with such, so it would be a good test," Shamal muses.
> "Yes, it would be..." Oberuth begins to smile, before suddenly starting to laugh. "...I feel like that fits entirely too well to be chance. Alright, let's go and meet him, then."

[Anastasia]

> The streets are relatively clean for a city. The ocean breeze blows across your face. People come and go, the day's labors begun. All of these are signs of Balmuria being alive and well, babble about. Demedais sees many things - a hill with a view of the ocean, a spectacular magic shop atop it and an a new inn a ways past it, for example. When the sky is looked at, the tall prowed ships can be seen, the hearty calls of seamen so vivid that you can almost hear them yourself. But then to the garrison, a large practice yard, an academy, a barracks, offices and more. The entryway to the main hall has two guards, eying Demedais as he approaches.
> the hearty calls of seamen so vivid that you can almost hear them yourself. But then to the garrison, a large practice yard, an academy, a barracks, offices and more. The entryway to the main hall has two guards, eying Demedais as he approaches.
<Demedais> "Good morning, gentlemen. I'm here to see Commander Oberuth." Demedais says as he approaches the two men.
> The two look Demedais over, young men wearing the armor like they still aren't used to it, spears passed hand to hand. "You are?"
<Demedais> "My name is Demedais, from the temple of Helm."
> "Oh yes, we were told you'd come." One of the two guards in chainmail goes to open the doors, "Follow me."
<Demedais> "Thank you." Demedais follows the man inward, a mix of curiosity and nervousness battling inside him. And that same pull. Helm's oath, it'd become almost a bother these past few days.
> Past a few halls of little note, sturdy and well designed for defense. Past a few walking soldiers, past pages, past officers. You come to what looks to be a small meeting hall. It's table and chairs are of wood, a few tapestries on thew all. Yet the room is dominated not by itself, but the man in there. (More)
> He is a large man - of big bones and muscle. His blonde hair is a great shock across his head, face florid. Commander Oberuth is easily over six feet tall, wearing a breastplate and with a sword hanging at his side. With a wave of one large hand he gestures to a chair, "Welcome and at ease. Sit down. Demedais, I presume?"
* Demedais nods. "Indeed, sir." He bows to the man before sitting down, a bit awkwardly. *oh, hey, someone taller than I. That's rare.*
> Sitting himself, he leans back his chair, all the while ignoring the creak of wood. "From what your temple passed on, Helm's pulling you to us or some such?"
<Demedais> "Yes. At least, that is what it feels like to me... Once I felt the pull, I came straight back from my pilgrimage in Malmuth, thinking it was the temple that had need of me. But... the pull... it hasn't quieted itself until... well, now."
> "....heh. I don't know if I should thank Helm or wonder why he doesn't bother telling us any of this," Commander Oberuth snorts, almost laughing. Instead his smile is controlled, broad but not breaking out into laughter. "Let me ask you then - what are you planning to do about this 'pull'?"
<Demedais> Demedais grins, nodding. "My desire is to join the Crimson Guard, sir. I believe that is the purpose of his pull upon me."
> "Yes, your timing is incredibly good. Of our four elite, we recently lost two with a day of each other. Oh Abyss..." Commander Oberuth considers a moment, rubbing his chin. "Stay there for now."
<Demedais> Alright.
> With this Demedais is left alone for a time, waiting...OOC - More coming in a few, waiting on Seira.
<Demedais> OOC Fair enough.
<Demedais> "I still cannot believe the troubles the Temple has gone through in my absence..." Demedais said to himself. "Ghouls arising in our own mausoleum... to protect the Temple... I must protect the town... and the Crimson Guard will allow me to do this to the best of my ability." He stopped, then chuckled. "Of course, this presumes they accept me..."
* Demedais turns the chair to look at a tapestry while waiting.
> Soon Demedais' distractions are broken by entries of several. The door opens, Commander Oberuth leading two women in...
<Demedais> Demedais stands and bows again, eyeing the new arrivals speculatively.
* Seira enters first, raven hair cascading over pointed ears. Her jacket is red, as might be expected, the rest of her clothing carrying the appearance of practicality. She nods at Demedais, remaining silent.
* Shamal is a fair skinned young woman with a generously soft figure, wearing pale blonde hair that just barely reaches past her neck. Unlike Seira her clothes seem a bit less practical, wearing a long flared green skirt with a twin-tailed and high collared green jacket over a white tunic. A small red insignia on her jacket and a captain's armband sewn onto her sleeve are all she has to herald her rank and position.
<Shamal> She gives Demedais a smile but waits for Obureth to handle the introductions.
> "Demedais, Shamal and Seira. Shamal and Seira, Demedais," He nods once, then goes to sit back down. "These are the two remaining. They've dealt with matters thus far and are familiar with Helm."
<Shamal> "I hear you're looking to sign up with us?" Shamal asks as she moves to take a seat. "I'd note it's an unusual vocation for a paladin, but we're an unusual group..."
* Demedais nods. "A pleasure to meet you two." he said, infusing at least some warmth into it. "So you two assisted in driving back the ghouls that infested the mausoleum... I owe you for that." He bowed again, with a smile.
> "Thank you, but it's not needed. We can't let ghouls walk, either." Commander Oberuth speaks calmly, "Tell us about how you came to here?"
<Demedais> "Indeed. It is an odd position that I find myself in, I must admit, but... joining the Crimson Guard would better allow me to protect Balmuria, and by extension, my temple." Demedais nods at Oberuth. "I was born here; on my nineteenth birthday, I took the oath to become a Paladin. It was two years later that Malmuth withdrew from here. I took that chance to make a pilgrimage in Malmuth. I wandered there for five years before
<Demedais> feeling myself... pulled back here. I describe it as a pull; it's the best way I can think of such a sensation. I returned back here with haste, arriving yesterday."
<Seira> "Serving in the Guard may one day pit you against Malmuth. Do you see that as a problem?" Seira asks the paladin curiously.
<Demedais> "No. In all honesty... from what I saw in Valandia, I expect such a fight. Their military is rapidly booming, and while they use it for other purposes, namely controlling the populace... I would not be surprised to learn that they do have ambitions in this direction."
> "You've been there recently?" Oberuth's voice picks up a notch, "What's going on in that city? How are they expanding?"
<Demedais> "Yes. I passed through it on my way back here." Demedais pauses, thinking. "I did not see the full town - the attitude toward travelers is apparently not too positive. Regardless, from what I saw of their development... I would estimate anywhere from seven thousand to nine thousand men and growing. They're currently building what I believe to be barracks, and..." Demedais chuckles. "Perhaps the most telling sign is that the t
<Demedais> temple to Templus is also quite large, and quite prosperous in these times."
<Demedais> OOC: *Tempus
<Shamal> "It certainly sounds like they're preparing for battle... and the number of possible opponents seems rather small," Shamal observes, frowning as she leans on the table.
> "Entirely too small..." Oberuth glowers at this, "We do not need a war, not right now, but...that raises too many questions."
<Seira> "Still, time works on our favor." Seira shrugs. "If they could be persuaded of the opposite, our chances would increase, I believe."
<Demedais> "Indeed. This was the other reason I had wanted to talk to you, but mentioning it to the people in the Temple wouldn't have done." Demedais grins weakly.
<Seira> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+3 and gets 23." [1d20=20]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+10 and gets 28." [1d20=18]
<Demedais> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+1 and gets 14." [1d20=13]
<Demedais> Murr.
> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+6 and gets 25." [1d20=19]
* Shamal blinks and looks upwards. "Did anyone else hear that?" she asks.
> "...hm?" Commander Oberuth frowns half a moment, glancing up, before returning to Demedais. "Yes. I'll pass the information on up. Realistically..." HE frowns, stopping again. "Yes, it sounded like a thump on the roof."
* Seira nods, drawing her wand smoothly and heading outside.
* Demedais blinks, looking up before eying Shamal and Oberuth, and then the retreating form of Seira. "I heard nothing, but..." Demedais stands up and moves to follow Seira.
> Oberuth casually withdraws his blade, standing up. "
> OOC - Gah.
<Shamal> "People shouldn't be climbing on the roof, but it's not really... oh, well, if everyone else is going?" she smiles and shrugs at Obureth, likewise rising and joining the troupe as they head outside to investigate.
> Oberuth casually withdraws his blade, standing up. "It's probably just a bird..." he murmurs, frowning again. "Go out and check it if you like, however."
* Demedais nods and follows Seira out, drawing his greatsword along the way.
* Seira goes! Quietly if possible!
* Shamal doesn't bother to ready any weapons as she follows the others to go out and look up at the roof. It's quite unlikely that there'd be trouble here in the garrison, after all.
> So the three head out! As they do, escaping the room, they hear a great crash behind them! An explosion! The roof in the room they were just in - and Commander Oberuth is still in - half vaporizes, the other half collapsing in a torrent of noise! Whiffs and fire and smoke  come gushing down along with the roof and the sunlight from above!
> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+5 and gets 24." [1d20=19]
> roll 5d6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 5d6 and gets 19." [5d6=3, 6, 6, 1, 3]
* Seira startles, looking around hurriedly!
<Shamal> "What in the-" Shamal cries in alarm, whipping around and looking back in the room. "Sir!"
* Demedais whirls back around, keeping the greatsword close to him, as he feels the vibration from behind. Seeing the smoke coming out of the room, he moves back toward it, but hesitating to go in before he can see something.
<Seira> "Shamal, get whoever did this, I'll go back for the Commander!" Seira calls out, heading back as her form seeks out the clouds of smoke to blur in their depths.
> As Seira looks, she can see the remnants of the roof around. Sunlight spills in, Commander Oberuth dusty and lifting a piece of roof rock off himself. He looks okay, coughing and cursing. In the slowly clearing hole to the sky, you see several things. First, a giant eagle swoops down, screaming as it lunges for the commander! Secondly, there is a vile red skinned creature, about six feet tall and with small vestigial wings on it's back. A foul red slime covers it's skin as it hops down in the newly blown hole. Finally, at the edge of the broken roof, standing and waiting above, a great lion roars!
> A foul red slime covers it's skin as it hops down in the newly blown hole. Finally, at the edge of the broken roof, standing and waiting above, a great lion roars!
<Shamal> "I hope you can climb," Shamal glances at Demedais, "Because your interview just started." With that, she promptly casts a spell, calling out for the spider's blessing before she rapidly scrambles up the side of the building and onto the roof to survey the situation there!
> OOC - Okay, what's everyone doing?
<Shamal> OOC: Climbing onto the roof and wishing Laika were here
<Seira> OOC: If I can get to Oberuth and cast CMW the same turn, I'm doing that
<Demedais> OOC - Entering the room, and attacking the red thing on sight.
> OOC - Okay, let's do initiative.
<Seira> roll 1d20+9 nerveskitter!
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+9 nerveskitter! and gets 17." [1d20=8]
<Demedais> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20 and gets 19." [1d20=19]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+2 and gets 11." [1d20=9]
> roll 1d20+1 Oberuth
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 Oberuth and gets 2." [1d20=1]
> roll 1d20+1 red thing
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 red thing and gets 5." [1d20=4]
> roll 1d20+3 lion
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+3 lion and gets 8." [1d20=5]
> roll 1d20+3 eagle
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+3 eagle and gets 7." [1d20=4]
> roll 1d20 ???
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 ??? and gets 14." [1d20=14]
* Retrieving #dunes modes...
> Commander Oberuth coughs and looks up, growling. "...what in the..." he mutters, "Bastards!"
<Demedais> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+5 and gets 8." [1d20=3]
* Demedais runs towards the red thing and swings his blade in a violent arc, hoping to catch it unawares.
> The creature turns, a sick, feral grin on it's face. It seems to smirk mockingly as it sidesteps, sharp, vicious claws coming up as it does! So it stands, nearly on the level with Demedais! OOC - Seira.
<Seira> "Death alone awaits to those who would dare to harm the Commander!" Seira calls out angrily, her hand whipping out, the wand held in it expressing her displeasure with a sickly green burst of magic aimed at the eagle headed for her superior officer!
<Seira> roll 1d20+8 ranged touch
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+8 ranged touch and gets 20." [1d20=12]
<Seira> roll 1d8+2d6 acid+SA
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d8+2d6 acid+SA and gets 10." [1d8=3][2d6=2, 5]
> The orb of acid flies from Seira's wand! The green burst splashes all over the diving eagle, burning away feathers and leaving a charnel smell in the air! IT stays flying despite this obvious abuse, as meanwhile you hear noises in the hallway, running footsteps. OOC - Shamal.
<Seira> Frustrated, Seira swaps weapons for her bow.
<Shamal> OOC: Can I make a knowledge check to ID the red dude?
> OOC: Sure. Knowledge: Plains.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 18." [1d20=10]
<Shamal> "Watch out for that demon - you need cold iron to really hurt it!" Shamal cries, before casting a spell to summon an ally. "Proud hunter of the skies, I summon you to my aid!" Eliciting a loud screech as a hippogriff appears between her and the lion and proceeds to savagely maul it!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 13." [1d20=5]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 27." [1d20=19]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 and gets 16." [1d20=13]
> OOC - Later two hit.
<Shamal> roll 1d4+6+1d8+4
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d4+6+1d8+4 and gets 15." [1d4=2][1d8=3]
> The summoned hippogriff tears into the lion, scoring direct hits on it's sides! While some of it's flesh is rent away, the proud cat isn't dead! It returns the favor, the two fighting on the edge of the roof!
> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+7 and gets 25." [1d20=18]
> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+7 and gets 12." [1d20=5]
> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 and gets 12." [1d20=10]
> roll 1d4+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d4+5 and gets 8." [1d4=3]
> With a backhanded swipe, part of the hippogriff's face is raked away! This does some damage, blood trickling out from the three scratches! Meanwhile, the eagle, while wounded, continues it's swoop at the Commander!
> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+9 and gets 29." [1d20=20]
> roll 1d20+9 crit check
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+9 crit check and gets 20." [1d20=11]
> roll 2d6+8
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 2d6+8 and gets 16." [2d6=3, 5]
> The eagle's swoop is a good one, tearing across and through Commander Oberuth's breastplaste! More dust from the roof swirls as the eagle flies away, but the Commander is only lightly staggered! He growls, eyes narrow as he drops into defense!  But as he does, the red thing smirks and claws at the charging Paladin!
<Seira> "Sir!" Seira exclaims worriedly.
> roll 1d20+12
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+12 and gets 30." [1d20=18]
> roll 1d6+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d6+5 and gets 9." [1d6=4]
> With an effort it claws through the armor, drawing across Demedais's chest! Not a deep wound, but one that gets it to just grin maddeningly as it scores it! In response, Commander Oberuth turns and lets loose a great charging roar! His sword is out, giong straight for the red creature in the ruined room!
> roll 1d20+15
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+15 and gets 18." [1d20=3]
> It comes close, but the creature whirls back, a full spin as it narrowly avoids the blade! OOC - Round over. Demedais, you're back up.
<Demedais> "That barely even scratched me, demon. It's my turn!" Stepping to the side of the demon opposite Oberuth so as to flank it, Demedais threw a duet of violent blows at the demon's form, placing the divine force of Helm upon the first blow.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+14
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+14 and gets 25." [1d20=11]
> OOC - Hit.
> OOC - Roll your second attack as well.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+4 and gets 5." [1d20=1]
<Demedais> roll 2d6+6
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 2d6+6 and gets 14." [2d6=6, 2]
> The blade of the paladin pulses with holy energy as the smite attack slams the demon! It rocks back and forth as if struck by a train, it's smile vanishing! Instead  of foul humor, it glares at Demedais with a look of primal hatred! OOC - Seira.
<Seira> The fell eagle had dared mar the Commander! The death that awaits it must be painful indeed!
<Seira> roll 1d20+4 PA3
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 PA3 and gets 15." [1d20=11]
<Seira> roll 1d20+4 PA3
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+4 PA3 and gets 20." [1d20=16]
> OOC - Both hit.
<Seira> roll 2d8+14
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 2d8+14 and gets 21." [2d8=4, 3]
> The two arrows are aimed well, one grazing the eagle's wing! It clips it, enough to disrupt it's flight! THe second takes advantage, going through it's midsection from side to side! IT lets out a keening call before falling to the ground, shimmering away seconds later! OOC - Shamal.
<Seira> "That's what you get!"
<Shamal> Shamal's hippogriff continues its attack on the lion, claws and beak rending deeply into its flesh!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 25." [1d20=17]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 26." [1d20=18]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 and gets 5." [1d20=2]
> "Good shot!" Commander OBeruth calls back as he squares off against the wounded demon. He grins as the monter's attention turns to Demedais, it's sides open. "Good..." he murmurs, eyes on the prize.
<Shamal> roll 2d4+12
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 2d4+12 and gets 16." [2d4=3, 1]
> OOC - First two hit, yeah.
> The lion is savagely mauled, much of it's body ruined! It's mane is stained with red, part of it's neck and chest torn away! Despite it's clearly critical wounds it yet lives!
* Shamal moves to the edge of the hole in the roof, far enough away that the lion would have to move to reach her, before she snaps her fingers and fires off a trio of glowing green bolts of energy, two aimed at the lion and one at the demon below!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 caster level check
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 caster level check and gets 14." [1d20=9]
> OOC - You passed.
<Shamal> roll 2d4+2 vs lion
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 2d4+2 vs lion and gets 5." [2d4=2, 1]
<Shamal> roll 1d4+1 vs demon
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d4+1 vs demon and gets 4." [1d4=3]
> The lion is riddled with two shots, slumping over! It fades away as it falls, dead before it touches the ground! The last shot hits the demon, seeming to lightly stagger it! Now the demon grins, dark power gathering around it! OOC - It's using a spell like, so Demedais and Oberuth can AoO it if they wish.
> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+13 and gets 26." [1d20=13]
<Demedais> Demedais glares at the demon as it seems to fade into darkness. "Not today, demon!" Again, Demedais throws his blessing of Helm into his first swing, leaving the second as a riochet strike.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+14
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+14 and gets 31." [1d20=17]
> OOC - Hit.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+4 and gets 10." [1d20=6]
<Demedais> roll 2d6+6
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 2d6+6 and gets 14." [2d6=4, 4]
> roll 1d8+8
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d8+8 and gets 12." [1d8=4]
<Seira> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+10 and gets 23." [1d20=13]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+13 spellcraft for fun
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+13 spellcraft for fun and gets 25." [1d20=12]
> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+5 and gets 16." [1d20=11]
<Seira> "It's running away!" Seira exclaims in dismay.
> The two blows together aren't terribly mighty against it's tough, cursed skin, but it's enough to dispel the dark power around it! As this happens, Shamal can easily note something in the sky, about fourty feet up. Slowly a gate of stormclouds appears, a sonorous voice echoing! "Scion of the cloudscape, I summon you to come forth! Let the banquet of sparks overrun all in my way!" The cloudgate cracks open, a lighting bolt arching forth and down, right at Commander Oberuth!
> forth and down, right at Commander Oberuth!
> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+5 and gets 7." [1d20=2]
> roll 10d6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 10d6 and gets 35." [10d6=4, 6, 1, 2, 5, 2, 5, 1, 6, 3]
> The bolt is accurate and potent, slamming into the Commander! HIs limbs flail and body arches, smoke rising from him! Yet he stays up, gritting his teeth, huffing air and out! "Cover me..." he breathes, falling into a defensive stance!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10 listen~
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+10 listen~ and gets 13." [1d20=3]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+4 hippogriffs have ears, too!
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+4 hippogriffs have ears, too! and gets 14." [1d20=10]
> From down the hall, you hear them coming. "Sirs? What happened!" The voices of guards, rushing to the scene of the catastrophe. OOC - Demedais is up.
<Demedais> "Seira! Can you heal him?" Demedais asks loudly.
<Seira> "Already on my way!"
> Three guards in total, lugging long spears along as they finish running, coming to the door. They stare in shock, gazing at the demon!
<Demedais> "Then I'll try to finish this accursed thing off!" Demedais winds up and lets loose his strikes.
<Seira> "Protect the Commander!" Seira calls out, spreading her arm out in the wounded officer's direction.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+8 and gets 16." [1d20=8]
<Demedais> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+4 and gets 17." [1d20=13]
> roll 1d20 guard initiative
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 guard initiative and gets 19." [1d20=19]
> Demedais can't quite connect! Both blows are parried aside, the damnable creature as fast as a comet! As this happens, the guards rush in, following Seira's orders with open fear, but rushing forth! Two position and stab at the demon with shaking hands, while the last is at the Commander's side, interposting himself. "We won't l-l-let you!"
> roll 1d20+2
> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 and gets 22." [1d20=20]
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 and gets 12." [1d20=10]
> roll 1d20+2 crit check oi
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 crit check oi and gets 7." [1d20=5]
<Demedais> "Little punk..."
> roll 1d8
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d8 and gets 7." [1d8=7]
> The spear barely penetraits it's skin, but it still drags a fleeting injury into the unholy flesh! OOC - Seira.
<Seira> Disegarding her personal safety, Seira rushes over to the Commander, healing magic already making its way through her system to concentrate in her palm, which she presses between his shoulder blades. "Are you alright, Sir?" she asks Oberuth worriedly, before begging him, "Please leave the foul thing to us!"
<Seira> roll 2d8+6
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 2d8+6 and gets 12." [2d8=5, 1]
> His burns partially recede, body mending in front of your eyes. "I'll live..." he breaths out.
<Seira> roll 1d20+11
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+11 and gets 21." [1d20=10]
> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 and gets 20." [1d20=19]
> OOC - Shamal.
* Shamal intently scans the sky above, fingers forming arcane patterns as she readies a spell, waiting for the right instant to unleash a spell upwards as soon as she can hear her target begin to cast another spell. Meanwhile her hippogriff emits an angry caw and dives down into the room below, claws raking the Babau!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 reflex to avoid slime damage
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 reflex to avoid slime damage and gets 7." [1d20=2]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 14." [1d20=6]
> The demon is now surrounded by spears, warriors and an angry hippogriff! But this attack fails, the demon pinned down! It looks around for several moments, before lunging at Demedais, unleashing it's full fury on him!
> roll 1d20+12 claw
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+12 claw and gets 14." [1d20=2]
> roll 1d20+12 claw
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+12 claw and gets 16." [1d20=4]
> roll 1d20+7 bite
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+7 bite and gets 19." [1d20=12]
> roll 1d6+2
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d6+2 and gets 6." [1d6=4]
> It does manage to bite Demedais, chomping on it's leg in a storm of clawing, biting, ducking, scratching and berserk combat! But it's only a minor injury, shin guard stopping most of it! Meanwhile, above, Shamal can clearly hear it. "Zephyr of the forgotten winds, banished by the rage of the Gods. Come forth and travel with me, on the wings of etherial light!"
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10 listen check to please give me a target!
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+10 listen check to please give me a target! and gets 13." [1d20=3]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10 alertness reroll!
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+10 alertness reroll! and gets 19." [1d20=9]
<Shamal> "Electric loop!" Shamal blurts out as soon as she begins to hear the spell, gesturing with one hand while she snaps her fingers with the other, an arc of lightning racing up to where she localised the source of the sound!
<Shamal> roll 2d6 DC 15 reflex for half. DC 15 will or stunned if reflex is failed
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 2d6 DC 15 reflex for half. DC 15 will or stunned if reflex is failed and gets 3." [2d6=1, 2]
> roll 1d20 just making sure there isn't a one tossed, since really, the concentration mod makes this mooooot.
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 just making sure there isn't a one tossed, since really, the concentration mod makes this mooooot. and gets 20." [1d20=20]
> roll 1d20+5 ref
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+5 ref and gets 12." [1d20=7]
> roll 1d20+11 will
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+11 will and gets 29." [1d20=18]
> You get a startled yelp! The spell continues, a wind gushing along, but you smell a faint notice of scorched skin as it does. His voice is quite surprised, even shocked! But as you presume the spell works, a small cloth bag falls from where it was, dropping towards the roof.
> Meanwhile, Commander Oberuth  finally has a chance, stumbling back, the Babau lashing out with a desperate claw!
> roll 1d20+12
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+12 and gets 18." [1d20=6]
> roll 1d6+5
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d6+5 and gets 9." [1d6=4]
> While it scores a grazing hit against his side, Commander Oberuth is able to withdraw away, back towards the door out from the ruined room! "Pin it down and don't...let it get in range," he calls out, one hand holding his side.
> OOC - End of round, Demedais is up.
<Demedais> Demedais nods in acknowledgement to Oberuth, before letting loose two more swings at the foul demon.
<Demedais> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+8 and gets 27." [1d20=19]
<Demedais> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+3 and gets 5." [1d20=2]
> OOC - Crit confirm?
<Demedais> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 1d20+8 and gets 25." [1d20=17]
> OOC - Crit. Roll damage.
<Demedais> roll 4d6+8
* Hatbot --> "Demedais rolls 4d6+8 and gets 22." [4d6=3, 6, 3, 2]
> The attack drives the greatsword into the chest of the demon! It seems to be enough, making it vanish away! It's gone just like that, only a bit of foul blood staying on Demedais' sword!
> So the battle ends, dust still settling from the roof, soldiers staring gape mouthed at where the demonw as. OOC - Go ahead and act.
<Demedais> "Hmph." Demedais grunts as he sheaths his sword and walks toward Oberuth. "Sit still, sir. I'll heal what I can, with Seira's help if she's got more where that first burst came from."
* Shamal skitters down onto the what's left of the ceiling and then rapidly makes her way down the wall so she's once more on the ground. "I couldn't stop her from escaping... does anyone need healing?" she asks as the hippogriff idly ruffles its feathers with no prey in sight.
* Seira searches the skies for any sign of the mysterious villain that dared strike her beloved Commander with lightning!
> The sky is clear and quiet. As soldiers continue to rush along, a squad of them now, Commander Oberuth slumps down. "I'll live..." he breaths, "Goddammit. That was a wizard? Secure the area now."
<Shamal> "She used the same teleport variant Irenes used," Shamal informs the group, not sounding pleased at all.
<Seira> "Or the work of a gem of imbuing," Seira says quietly, for their ears only.
<Demedais> "Irenes?" Demedais muttered.
<Shamal> OOC: He!
<Shamal> OOC: just strike my line, actually
<Shamal> "That was the same teleport variant Irenes used," Shamal informs the group, not sounding pleased at all. "Voice sounded like his as well, so I'm almost certain he's the culprit..."
> "Why not?" Commander Oberuth lets his sword fall to the floor, "His life is forfeit anyway for the attack on Lord Salman." Meanwhile soldiers scurry about, rapidly hustling now. The three that confronted the demon are still standing there, rather shaken.
<Shamal> "Sir, are you sure you're alright?" Shamal asks, stepping closer to him and placing a glowing hand over his wound as she murmurs a spell of healing.
<Shamal> roll 1d8+5
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d8+5 and gets 6." [1d8=1]
<Seira> "Good job, you three," Seira commands them, nodding in approval. "Especially you," she adds to the one who struck the fiend, and the soldier who protected the Commander. "Better luck next time," she tells the last one.
> "I'll live," he murmurs, as his flesh mends with the magic. "I've had worse in the war - barely." He even cracks a momentary smile at that, "Evacuate the room for now and regroup."
* Demedais nods to the three in acknowledgement. "Indeed. That was impressive."
<Shamal> "Looks like you survived the interview," Shamal gives Demedais a small smile. "Let's regroup in the briefing room?" she suggests, idly waving at the hippogriff which fades away and vanishes.
<Shamal> "Oh, wait, I saw something drop!" she adds, going to look at where the bag fell from the sky.
> "Next time you pray, Demedais?" Picking himself up slowly, the Commander gets his sword and sheathes it. "Thank Helm. We dodged an arrow here today in several ways."
> Shamal notes it's on the roof, just lying there near where the lion was.
* Shamal is easily able to climb up to the roof with her spider powers, but casts detect magic before touching it!
> There is magic inside of the bag. OOC - Spellcraft it up.
<Demedais> "It'd take more than that thing's tinking to get to me. Like, say, a lightning bolt." He grinned at Oberuth, nodding in acknowledgement. "Indeed. We owe him greatly that you three heard that attack coming."
<Shamal> OOC: taking 10 for 24 with guidance!
> A nod at that, "...archers on the roofs now," he mutters, considering. "Like hell we're going to let this happen again."
> Faint evocation.
> OOC - Faint evocation, even. I suck.
<Seira> "You might need to pray extra hard, then, next time," Seira comments in all seriousness to Demedais.
<Shamal> "Seira, you memorise mage hand a lot, don't you?" Shamal calls down to the elf, very carefully picking up the bag without opening it.
<Seira> "It's like second nature to me, only without the creepy mummified elf hand bit," Seira calls back. "Why?"
* Demedais nods at Seira, acknowledging that point.
* Shamal scoots down onto the ceiling and down the wall to ground level once more, her skirt magically not flipping over her head. "There's faint evocation in this bag - it's probably a trap but we can't just leave it lying. Let's take it outside and clear some room before you try opening it?"
<Seira> "Agreed." She turns to look at the Commander. "Permission to pursue this course of action and look for clues on our attacker, Sir?"
> "Go on. We'll talk later...and take Demedais with you. We'll work out something offical later." A pause, ab reath out as he begins to walk, "Seira, when we aren't under attack by a hostile power, let me know when that venture of yours opens?"
<Seira> "Of course, Sir." She nods for good measure. "I will send an invitation."
> So the heroes head outside, sidestepping the chaos. Guards are scurrying around, but an empty place on the practice sparring fields is not hard to find.
<Seira> A wave of her left hand summons a shimmering shield in front of her, and a matching motion by the other hand forces the bag to open, its contents revealing themselves to all, and most importantly to Seira's magically-augmented eyes!
* Shamal is well away from the bag when this happens!
* Demedais is near Shamal, taking from her the cue of distance.
> Inside the bag are five small red gems. Each is nearly identical in apperance, though one radiates faint magic. They look like red quarts or rubies, perhaps.
<Seira> "Five gems dear old Irenes would not be imbuing any time soon, I wager," Seira comments, willing the unwapped bag and its contents to float over to her outstretched palm.
> This happens without incident.
<Shamal> "And one's already been imbued?" Shamal raises an eyebrow. "How lucky for us... since he'll probably be back for it soon, how about we go ask your Master to identify it now and we can decide if it's worth using?"
<Seira> "She prefers Mistress," Seira says, mildly embarrassed. "And it is possible he wished to use it on more... human subjects." Her voice turns distasteful towards the end.
* Demedais stays respectfully and mildly bemusedly silent.
<Shamal> "What do you mean by that?" Shamal asks, wondering at the emphasis on humans.
<Seira> "You believe the attacker to be Irenes, correct?"
<Shamal> "I'm almost certain of it," the blonde nods in reply.
<Seira> "And we are aware that he likes to use human subjects to further his study of magic. We also know that he does this via means of enspelled gems much like this one appears to be." Seira shrugs. "If there is no logical fallacy in my words, then it is quite likely he planned to continue his... research... with that gem."
<Shamal> "Yes, I only wondered at your emphasis on human subjects. Have we any evidence of him using other subjects?"
* Seira shakes her head. "Is that not despicable enough?"
<Shamal> "It simply struck me as an odd choice of wording," Shamal returns, before briefly looking abashed and turning to Demedais. "Apologies, you're probably feeling lost. We're referring to gems which have the capability of imbuing knowledge of a single magical spell into a being with no magical inclination or training. They've suddenly become rather popular."
<Demedais> "Ah, I see now." Demedais inclined his head, still a bit bemused but not worrying about it too much.
<Seira> "And since you are filling him in, could you share the details on that attempt by Irenes at assassinating Lord Salman?"
<Demedais> "That... would be appreciated. I had heard of it, but not of what actually happened."
<Shamal> "The assassin claimed that Irenes was the one who hired her, though it was intimated that he was merely an intermediary," Shamal offers. "Regardless, he has proven himself to be involved in numerous crimes against the United Baronies, and his capture is of the highest priority."
<Demedais> "Do we have a description of Irenes?"
<Shamal> "We've met him. I can show you a picture some other time, but the most distinguishing feature is his monobrow." Shamal does give a brief physical description besides that, but the monobrow is the important part!
<Demedais> "Mmm, alright. Don't think I've seen him before, but that's no real surprise.
<Shamal> "If you do, he's to be considered extremely dangerous - you just saw the company he keeps, after all, not to mention the spells he was throwing out," Shamal warns. "Anyway, let's go see Countess Stronger and see if she can tell us what that gem does.
<Shamal> "
* Seira nods. "And speaking of the Countess, she mentioned a rumor involving you and a tiger...?"
<Shamal> "Oh, yes," Shamal sighs. "I was briefly taking care of it for Mihail, that's all."