(Arc 9-2) Beth Reynes. Somewhere in the protodepths, a paladin growls.

[Anastasia]

* Shamal scampers up the wall after the assassin, magic letting her ascend faster than even the most skilled climber, until she reaches the assassin and notices her state. "Oh, dear... Let her down!" she gestures at the bat to carefully fly down to ground level and let go of the assassin, before following herself to the ground and casting Cure Minor Wounds on her to ensure she's stable, though hopefully still unconscious.
* Lyselle drops from the wall, shaking her head and cleaning Oberuth's sword. "Well...that worked out."
> The assassin's bleeding continues but slows after the miniscule healing, rain falling harder. It's starting to rain heavily, soaking your dresses and tunics. Her leather armor's back is torn by longsword, her rapier lying besides her.
<Shamal> "Let's get her to the garrison and locked up," Shamal decides, dismissing the bat back to whence it came. "Then we can report to the commander - she won't be fit to interrogate until the morning, anyway."
* Berlioz sighs. "For someone who was hired specifically to kill the king, she's... astoundingly incompetent. Either that or we're ridiculously lucky bastards. Let us take this miscreant back, we have a lot to ask."
> The trip to the garrison is a short one. Within three streets you come on a fully armed patrol, who are more than glad to escort you to the garrison. OOC - What are you doing with her/searching?
* Shamal casts detect magic on the off chance that she has anything of note. "Make sure she's well secured and kept under guard at all times," she orders the guards while securing her equipment and armour away.
> As they search her, the party finds:
> Rapier(Moderate magic)
> Leather Armor
> 20 GP
> A tied and rolled up scroll, hidden in a pouch in her clothing
> A triply knotted bag, lumpy and small.
<Shamal> Since the scroll is not magical, Shamal has no compunctions against opening it and having a read!
> As the guards chain her up in a very small, very well locked room, Shamal reads the scroll. It looks like a scribbling notepad, with the following:
> Third stone, past the lighting splitted tree - Common
> ???? - Unknown letters.
> ???? - More unknown letters
> ???? - More, blood red letters.
> Dejeon - In Terran.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 26." [1d20=18]
* Lyselle glances at the scroll, trying to see if she recognizes anything.
<Shamal> "I think it's a set of instructions, but can't read all of it," Shamal shakes her head, handing it off to Lyselle and taking a moment to see if she can guess at the school of magic on the rapier.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+13 spellcraft
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+13 spellcraft and gets 23." [1d20=10]
> Lyselle can read the first and second lines that Shamal could not read:
> Archeon's Celestia - In Celestial
> The greenest point of the high mountain - In Elven
<Lyselle> "Archeon's Celestia and The greenest point of the high mountain," Lyselle translates, pointing out the lines to Shamal before waving Berlioz over to look at it.
* Berlioz nudges, and picks up the parchment. "Hmmm, let's see what I can do..."
> The last unlearned line is in infernal:
> Ascending past the red line - In Infernal
<Shamal> "Rapier has transmutation magic on it," Shamal informs the others as she boxes it away, before nodding to Lyselle and smiling, "I couldn't read those parts," she admits. "Last line says Dejeon, in Terran. I think it's a command word, but we can ask her tomorrow. Let me just check what's in this bag..." she hefts the triple knotted bag and opens it up to take a look inside.
> Inside look to be a few mushrooms, a light powder coming out as Shamal opens it! This makes her sneeze...OOC - Fort save.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+6 and gets 12." [1d20=6]
> roll 2d6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 2d6 and gets 11." [2d6=6, 5]
* Berlioz nods, and reads it in a fairly monotone pace. "Third stone, past the lightning plitted tree, Archeon's Celestia, the greenest point of the high mountain, ascending past the red line, Dejeon."
<Berlioz> *splitted
> The stuff makes her nose burn and lungs sizzle, body wobbling back and forth.
> A foul, rotting plant oder quickly begins to fill the room, pungent enough to make your eyes sting.
<Shamal> Eyes watering, Shamal holds the bag far away from herself and everyone else, doing her best to reseal it before it can affect her even more, or begin to take its toll on the others present.
> This is done just in time, the horrible scent sealed away on a quick reknotting.
<Shamal> "Found our poison," Shamal coughs a few times, carefully making sure the bag isn't damaged before she boxes it with the rest of the assassin's possessions, making sure to put it far away from the pointy part of the rapier. "Yuck, I hate to think what that'd do if you ate it..."
> The bag doesn't look damaged at all. It's quite sturdy and thick, as a matter of fact.
* Lyselle shudders, blinking hard and backing away. "I'd say so..." she mutters, swallowing hard.
* Berlioz winces. "Dear god, you have to wonder how resistant lord Salman must be by surviving the ingestion of that. That thing makes me ill just by existing in the vicinity."
* Shamal then casts prestidigitation to dry herself and clean off any spores that might still be clinging, both on herself and on any of the furniture around where she opened the bag. Someone might eat their lunch off that table, tomorrow!
> This goes quite well, the guards closing the door behind them and with relatively good reason.
<Shamal> "Let's go make our report - remember, keep her under guard at all times, and don't touch anything in that box," she instructs the guards.
> The guards wave their arms and hands around, hurrying the smell's departure. "Yes sirs," they agree quickly, "That's the one who..." One of them turns, a look of anger on his face, tinting it red.
* Shamal nods grimly. "The evidence is pretty conclusive, I'd say."
> The guards mutter and murmur, glaring back at her jail cell door. "...Hope I get off in time to see her hang," one spits.
* Lyselle just shakes her head. Guards acting like it was something truly malicious... "Shamal, coudl you ah..." she gestures a little, blushing slightly. "Fix this? We hardly look presentable..."
<Berlioz> "Don't act funny, however. We need the woman alive for now. As much as anyone in Balmuria may want the woman dead, I'd rather have her questioned, judged and punished than finding her dead after an untimely lynching. This isn't directed to any of you in particular - rather, it's a friendly warning", the bard deadpans to the guards. Ah, human emotion, how brutally it can turn the tides of events.
<Shamal> "Oh, of course," Shamal mutters a brief mending cantrip and runs her fingers over the tear in the fabric where the rapier pierced, mending Lyselle's dress. "I can dry us off with another cantrip once we get back inside at the temple of Waukeen - no sense doing it now since we'll just get wet again."
<Berlioz> "I'm not sure how much of a ball we'll see once we get back, but yes."
> So the trip back passes in a steady rainstorm. The group passes a few patrols who are moving quite quickly and surely on the way. A pitstop just before allows for magical dry cleaning, Shamal's magic saving vanity. On coming back to the hall, you see Commander Oberuth has commadeered a large table, guardmen scurrying back and forth, bringing reports. Six guards are at the front door, Commander Oberuth waiting. "I just heard," he says, plainly, some of his tension slowly rising away with a deep breath out. "You got the assassin?"
> "I just heard," he says, plainly, some of his tension slowly rising away with a deep breath out. "You got the assassin?"
<Berlioz> "Yes. It was oddly smooth, considering the unnervingly high confusion factor involved", the bard replies simplistically.
<Shamal> "The evidence is pretty conclusive, sir," Shamal nods. "I can definitively identify the poison tomorrow, but it was certainly something exceptionally deadly she was carrying. She's unconscious and well secured at the garrison."
* Lyselle nods, stepping forward and offering Oberuth's sword back to him hilt first and over her arm. "Quite, as the others have told, we pursued them to the city wall, and managed to bring them into custody before they could make good their escape."
> The breath that is exhaled is like a gale of relief, Oberuth closing his eyes. "...good. We'll need to interrogate her as soon as she's able to be. Is she now?" He takes the sword back with a grim nod, sheathing it.
<Shamal> "Not without magical healing," Shamal shakes her head. "And I expended my last spell to stabilise her after we rendered her unconscious."
> "Damnations." A soft, muttered swear under Oberuth's breath, "Is there any means to heal her enough to talk that you have? She'll hang, it's only a matter of getting what we can out of her as fast as we can."
* Shamal smiles faintly. "We are at the temple of Waukeen, sir. I'm sure they have potions in stock."
* Berlioz sighs. "I could patch her wounds easily enough, if you care. No need to spend potions for that."
> "...oh yes." Oberuth blushes, rubbing his temple. "Even better. Heal her and get information from her, now. Speed is of the essence. If this is a preemptive strike to cut our heads off before an invasion..." Trailing off and looking on at each, "This stays private, but if it is from down south, you know exactly what this will lead to."
* Shamal nods. "We'll see what we can get out of her tonight sir - if she's resilient, I learned a spell from Seira that could prove useful in the morning. She'll talk," she promises.
* Berlioz rubs his forehead, wincing a bit. "Yes. Our crafty ways sometimes could come back to bite us in the neck. Regardless... anyone willing to come with me? I doubt a spindly bard can put up much pressure in interrogation."
> "Good, get going." WAving his hand in dismissal, "Decide and go. Hurry."
<Shamal> "Of course, Berlioz," Shamal nods. "I don't think any of us want to step away just yet."
<Berlioz> "Okay, then. Let us go."
> So you go. The rain is finally slowing as you approach the garrison, well lit. Plently of hooded lanters and shielded torches have been put out. A few people linger by the gates besides guards, getting glares and occasional orders to disperse. Of note, you see a tall man in armor there, arms crosses as he watches. A warmace hangs at his belt. Besides him is a tiny human girl with a quiver on her back, a hooded cowl worn. They look familiar, standing out from the crowd of peasants and artisans woken up by the commotion.
> They look familiar, standing out from the crowd of peasants and artisans woken up by the commotion.
> *plate armor
* Shamal pays little mind to the gawkers as she makes her way inside - so long as it isn't a mob trying to break into the garrison then they can do what they like.
* Lyselle casts a few cautious looks, eyeing those adventurers in particular, and a little sternly as she follows Shamal in.
> So the party heads inside. The tall man nods to Lyselle at her look. To the small cell where the assassin is held, a larger room connecting to a hall before it. Guards salute as you enter.
* Shamal returns the salute. "Unlock the cell door, please. We're going to interrogate the prisoner," she asks the guard.
> The guards go to do so, footsteps sounding as they move. The door is opened, the cell ahead. The assassin wears her cowl and plain clothes, armor having been removed. She's not concious and still badly wounded.
* Berlioz blinks slowly, approaching the unconscious ruffian. "Well, this is where I chime in", the bard mutters, reciting the dystics for Cure Light Wounds.
<Berlioz> roll 1d8+5 for Saul'd
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d8+5 for Saul'd and gets 8." [1d8=3]
* Lyselle leans into the doorframe, watching mostly and waiting out her companions' usually more effective means of interrogation. Ah the wonders of magic...
> This magic does much for her, restoring some small color to her cheeks. Her breathing is steady within moments, less ragged and on the verge of death.
* Berlioz gazes at the assassin, blankly pondering, and snaps his fingers close to her ears. "Hey."
> An incomprehensible murmur is all you're rewarded with. Then another, weak and gurgled deep in her chest.
* Berlioz grumbles. "I am not very likely to spend another casting of magic on her if she're conscious enough to mutter. Get a prisoner healthy enough and there may actually be undesirable reactions."
* Shamal folds her arms, leaning on the wall. "It's up to you, Berlioz," she replies cooly, keeping her eyes on the assassin.
> "Nnnng..." A cough, still lined with flecks of blood that escape her lips. Her eyes open to half mast, peering ahead.
* Berlioz folds his arms as well and leans to a wall, glancing at the assassin boredly. "Well, well, sleeping beauty. Getting back to your senses?"
> "..ugh." She spits again, coughing in a way that makes her entire body shake. "What?"
* Berlioz rubs his chin, gazing at the killer, looking for her eyes as he undistinguishably mutters the dystics for Charm Person, not losing track of her sight.
> roll 1d20+6 What's your DC?
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+6 What's your DC? and gets 11." [1d20=5]
> Her eyes glaze over a moment at Berlioz' magic, ensorcelled!
* Berlioz nods calmly, and approaches the seemingly entranced wench. "Now that I got your attention, I'd be thankful if you answered a few questions for us..."
> "..why?" she shakes her head, "I've got no illusions nor any desire to make my hanging any surer."
<Berlioz> "If you don't speak, you'll definitely make it surer than you would if you actually provide us information. Your acts aren't pardonable, and you're fully aware of that. However, you can at least be spared of unnecessary pain and ordeals. Your very words admit your responsibility in a roundabout way, which alone could get you to be lynched by an angry mob in seconds. That's easy and unrewarding, however."
> The assassin laughs, a wince following as she coughs. "Yeah, well, I knew what would happen if I fucked up. Doesn't matter much if it's some mob of a man in a black mask, does it?"
<Berlioz> "Well. While I can't disagree with your logic, I'm not particularly bloodthirsty. And, quite frankly, you're more useful alive than dead now. I might even be willing to arrange a deal of sorts - of course, as long as we're in the same page", the bard retorts softly.
> Her eyebrow raises, as her arms fiddle a bit, finding the limits of her manacles. "Well...if you have a good offer, maybe I'd sing to save my skin."
* Berlioz nods. "That sounds good enough to me. I can't guarantee you much in the way of anything - but I'd say sparing your life is very generous as is. If you spill the beans, I can arrange for that."
> "Mmm..." She licks her lips and looks down, before shaking her head, "That's a good step, but y'see? The only thing between me and and an axe to the neck is what's in my head." A smirk at that, as she pulls at her manacles a bit. "Once that's out, well...that's out. But..." she looks at Berlioz and nods, "I can give you something, a hint. Good faith measure, say."
* Berlioz nods solemnly, arms folded, relaxed expression. "That's a start. Mind enlightening us?"
> "I don't work cheap, or 'round here normally. But someone with resources went to a lot of trouble to find me and get me down here, then to agree on a price AND provide me with the poison. Oh yes, heh, heh. Nasty stuff. Never thought I'd see it that strong. This ain't kiddy business."
> She pauses, licking her red stained lips again. "Someone wants your precious Archduke dead. Very, very, very dead. I just happened to get the right price for it."
* Berlioz snickers. "We already have that figured out from what happened tonight, my dear. We know you're simply cannon fodder for whoever wants Salman six feet under, as well. You'll have to work harder than this. I'm willing to help, but you have to contribute."
> "Pfah." She spits, "Tell me this - how dead is he? Or...does he happen to be alive?" She raises her eyebrow after that, "Stuff's nastier than hells. Just breathin' it in can nearly kill ya. Oh yeah, don't go opening any bags I had. Still got another dose left. Grind up it's stem and pour it into a fluid, and it destroys the body from the inside out. Permanently, in the rare chance it doesn't kill ya outright."
* Shamal bites off a curse. Hopefully her magic will help, but it doesn't sound like any common poison...
* Berlioz glances at Shamal briefly, and returns the stare to the assassin. "Well. What is that poison made of, anyway? Also, why carry extras when you were so certain one would off the target outright?"
> "See now..." The girl smirks a little more, "Did my studies. Maybe, just maybe there's a way to cure it. Maybe." With that she smiles once more, breathing ragged. "Insurance. In case someone gets...lucky or my luck plain runs out. Oh, but don't go reachin' any conclusions, mushroom's not the cure by itself."
> She breathes out once more, flexing her hands, "I'll tell ya all about it if we play nice." With that, she smiles at Berlioz.
* Berlioz nods. "I see", the bard reclines and calmly gazes at the lady. "Well, then? I'm all ears."
> "No no...Said I needed a gauran-tee. I like ya and all, but you can't be runnin' this whole place, can ya? Once I spill it..." she shrugs.
<Berlioz> "As I said - the best I can give you is sparing your existance from the rope and the masses crying for your head. Truth be told, for now, you're more useful alive than dead. And we can keep it working this way. I'm certain we could work something out if you help us here. However, if the king dies? No promises can save you. You'd be skinned alive by random townsfolk, let alone the guard. You need more?"
> "I need it by someone..." Oh she pauses, batting her eyelashes. "Very, very important and with authority. Since I'm right and your precious Archduke's still breathin', bring me someone important and we'll talk."
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow. "Quite frankly, your demand is a bit... strange. Not to say risky. Listen, I am willing to bargain with you - however, I think I'm not reaching by saying I might be the only one. Most everyone in this kingdom dearly wants to see your hide rotting in the sun - and they're not bending to the demands of a rogue. I could even arrange a meeting for you. I just don't think it'll do you any good, far the contrary."
> "Well then..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I got nothin' to lose. I'm just sayin' I don't trust people above you to keep your word. I spill to you, but some fancy aristocrat 'cides that 'In the interests of high'n'mighty' justice that I need to hang anyway." So she pauses, licking  her lips and looking up. Her face is a bit rawboned on first glance, not particulary attractive or attention getting in the harsh cell light.
* Berlioz nods. "You are right. For that same reason, I find your request strange. You could request their presence, they could come, promise you they'd spare your life and order your head in a silver plate as soon as they leave. It's a waste of time, and a jeopardizing demand on your side", the bard lets out calmly. Unfazed by the roguish woman's words, he sighs softly.
> "...heh, bastard," she grins, teeth white. "Foxy, are ya? Alright. It's called Ruginican Grand Death Cap. Stuff's more poisonous than a dozen vials of Black Lotus Extract combined together." She takes a breath, licking her dry, blood flecked lips. "The mushroom's supposed to be rare or extinct, but I guess it isn't after all. Grind it up and it's the perfect poison - even if the target somehow survives, it shreds their insides, making them bedridden and feeble. Like tossing acid into your intestines and stomach." (More)
> making them bedridden and feeble. Like tossing acid into your intestines and stomach." (More)
> "Did my work in it - it's what you'd call some sort of alchemical and biological process. Part of what it does prevents the body from healing the injuries. But..." With a slow smile, "There's a way to reverse it. Combine another dose of the Death Cap with Mountain Aqua Sprigs, and it reverses the effects completely."
<Shamal> roll 1d20+14
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+14 and gets 23." [1d20=9]
* Berlioz folds his arms and considers. He nods silently, returning his gaze to the rogue. "Well. This is something important to hear. Hmmmm... I wonder...", the bard pretends to get lost in thought for a moment.
> "It is. The name's obvious - you can find Mountain Aqua Sprigs in mountains, mostly by underground waterways." Looking up to Berlioz there, "Get that and it shouldn't be hard to reverse the effects."
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3 is she bullshitting us?
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 is she bullshitting us? and gets 12." [1d20=9]
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+6 for sensical motives
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+6 for sensical motives and gets 22." [1d20=16]
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow and nods, serenely adjusting his monocle. "I see. This is... hm. I believe we have bothered you enough for now. You have been a fairly good host, I'd hate to overstay our welcome. We will return, however. Unless... well. Shamal", the bard glances to his companion, "do you have anything to say? Or ask?"
<Shamal> "I believe my questions can wait until the morning," the blonde replies flatly, suspiciously eyeing the prisoner.
> Lyselle nods quietly as well.
* Berlioz nods. "Well, then. This was a fairly productive conversation, whilst not particularly unpleasant. Excuse us, please. And rest as well as you can, miss."
> "Heh..." Smirking and voice dropping into a drawl, "Yessir."
> Lyselle heads out at this, standing back.
* Shamal likewise departs. "I'm not familiar offhand with the poison, but I know a spell that might let me identify it in the morning," she explains to her companions. "Though I'll still try and heal Lord Salman via magic, anyway."
> So the party goes to rest. The rest of the night and morning are spent in gainful sleep and recovery. On waking, Berlioz and Shamal find that the city is quiet. Only a few people go out, the gates closed and triple guarded. The entire city is painfully subdued, soldiers working around the clock. The first matter is a simple meeting with Commander Obruth. He looks worse for the wear, slumping in your normal meeting room. His hair is a mess, bags under his eyes. Smothering a yawn as you enter, "Lyselle's helping the guard at the moment," he informs, waving. "Sit down and report, and we'll get to business."
>  His hair is a mess, bags under his eyes. Smothering a yawn as you enter, "Lyselle's helping the guard at the moment," he informs, waving. "Sit down and report, and we'll get to business."
* Shamal sits down and lets Berlioz do the talking, since she hasn't begun her work, yet.
* Berlioz folds his arms and nods, standing up. "The woman did not blurt out who is she working for. However, she did spill the beans on the poison, and a possible cure for it. We should test this to verify its accuracy, but I think Shamal can take care of that quickly."
<Shamal> "I have prepared some spells which should aid Lord Salman in his recovery," the blonde nods. "I also need to examine the poison before asking a few questions of my own."
> "Good." Oberuth rubs his face, shoulders slumping. "Lord Salman hasn't awoken or even stirred yet. Go ahead and get going, and report back soon." Smothering a second yawn, "I need to go meet with Khardon and settle other pressing matters. Keep me informed."
<Shamal> "Yes, sir," Shamal rises, "Is Lord Salman still at the temple of Waukeen?"
> "Yes, he's not been moved." A curt nod to that, "Go."
* Shamal salutes and heads off towards the temple!
* Berlioz salutes briefly and follows Shamal.
> The Temple of Waukeen has been coopted. The face of the Goddess has several soldiers standing guard over the mostly empty streets, saluting crisply as you approach. You note Wedge and Biggs have been pressed into service here, the younger shooting you a curious, confused, hopeful look as you pass.
* Shamal smiles briefly to the pair, only giving a perfunctory greeting as she hurries onwards on her errand of mercy.
* Berlioz hurriedly follows along, leaving a nod to the pair before following along.
> So onward and in you go. A large bedroom with bookshelves and a beautiful set of paintings is here, clearly rich. However, the large, soft bed in the center has been converted, Lord Salman laying there. Two guards stand there, one on each side. The high priest of the temple, Gilartal, stands over him. His brown robes show gold stitching, wealth all over this room.
<Shamal> "How is he?" Shamal asks the priest quietly, wondering if he's already used the same spells she's prepared herself, or even stronger ones...
> "He's alive, asleep. Past that, only Waukeen knows." He turns just a bit towards you, "I'm afraid to note that my efforts have been largely futile. How I'm not sure, but I do know that something's fundamentally wrong here." His face is framed with a dark scowl.
<Shamal> "I feared as much," Shamal looks downcast. "My own spells will likely be less effective than yours, but I would like to at least try before exploring other avenues." Leaning over the side of the bed, she incants a prayer to Mielikki, urging the Forest Queen to aid Salman's recovery against this unnatural malady while bestowing two blessings upon him.
<Shamal> OOC: Lesser Restoration and Healthful Rest
> The spells are cast, the invocation of the forest lord potent! Yet nothing seems to happen, no grand recovery. Only Lord Salman's breathing, a heavy, slow affair. In and out, up and down, unchanging.
* Shamal then takes out her healing kit, along with the copious notes she took from the gnome surgery, and proceeds to give Lord Salman a thorough examination to see if she can diagnose his ailment rather than trust entirely to the words of his would be assassin.
> OOC - Notes will give you a +2 circumstance bonus.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+11 guidance
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+11 guidance and gets 17." [1d20=6]
> Shamal can't really pin it down. Whatever it is, it's most heinous.
* Shamal sighs, shaking her head in defeat. "At least it isn't getting worse, whatever it is... I suppose another chat with the assassin is in order. Good day," she nods to Gilartal and the other guards present, before briskly departing.
> So the two head along again! The cell is triple guarded, the assassin asleep inside. The guards salute and stand aside as you approach...
<Shamal> Before going into the cell, Shamal goes to check the assassin's belongings, casting a spell to sharpen her mind first, and then casting Detect Poison and taking a look at the bag.
> The rapier has some poison on it. The bag with the mushrooms is obviously poisonous. The rapier has Giant Wasp's Poison or a variant of, but it's kinda diluted from the rain. The stuff inside the bag is Ruginican Grand Death Cap.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+14 for hilarity
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+14 for hilarity and gets 25." [1d20=11]
<Shamal> "Oh, my..." Shamal murmurs, closing the box and heading now towards the cell. Questions, questions...
> The cell is quiet. The assassin sleeps there, unaware of Shamal and Berlioz.
<Shamal> No sense in putting her on guard by casting spells when she can see them! Shamal proceeds to cast Charm Person on the assassin!
<Shamal> OOC: DC 16 will save
> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+6 and gets 17." [1d20=11]
> The assassin is still asleep.
<Shamal> "I don't think that took..." Shamal frowns. "Oh, well, hopefully hypnosis will work without softening her up. Got anything you want to cast first, Berlioz?"
* Berlioz nods. "Well...", the bard quietly mutters the dystics to Detect Thoughts.
> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+6 and gets 21." [1d20=15]
> Berlioz cannot detect her thoughts, whatever lies in her dreaming mind is out of reach.
> Meanwhile, the assassin begins to snore softly.
* Berlioz sighs, and recasts DT once again. Giving up a headway into an interrogation isn't exactly optimal.
> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+6 and gets 20." [1d20=14]
> Once again, Berlioz cannot read her mind despite his best efforts.
* Shamal gives the woman a more gentle shake than she probably deserves. "Wake up," the blonde carols insistently.
> It takes a moment, but her eyes open. "Grgh," she winces, "What?"
<Shamal> "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt the sleep of the innocent, but... well, actually, that's fine, isn't it?" Shamal smiles thinly as she steps back, giving the woman some space. "I thought we could have a bit of a chat, you and I."
> She squirms a bit, face showing pain as her injuries shift. "Fine, get on with it," she scowls, a dark frown on her face. Her voice drips with sarcasm, deep.
<Shamal> "Well, let's start with something easy - what's your name? We can't just keep calling you 'you' or 'assassin', after all, can we?" Shamal smiles a bit, seemingly unaffected by the sarcasm. Yep, that charm spell sure failed.
> "Beth." It's said, flat and to the point, "So, gonna hang me yet or not? I'd like to know if I should be wishing for a last meal yet." The smile gets the same sarcasm back, biting.
<Shamal> "Honestly, that's still up in the air," Shamal admits. "You still need to stand trial, after all. Probably just a formality, but strange things have happened before. What I'm interested in, though, is that Ruginican Grand Death Cap. You see, I'm something of an alchemist myself, and as far as anyone knows, that mushroom went extinct a very long time ago."
> "Heh, you'd have to ask my employer about that." She smirks abotu it, as if gloating. "I'm sure that person would love to tell you."
<Shamal> "By all means feel free to volunteer the name of your employer. I'm sure we'd have just tons to talk about," Shamal replies, showing that sarcasm isn't beyond her, after all.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+9 diplomacy since I've been nice so far (guidance)
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+9 diplomacy since I've been nice so far (guidance) and gets 17." [1d20=8]
> She takes a breath, "Well, honestly, I'd love to. I can tell you the name of the intermediary that was used and what I inferred if you want, but.." Beth tsk-tsks, shaking her head, "Like many people of such stature, I suppose that they didn't want to get directly involved with those lilly white hands they have."
<Shamal> "Of course," Shamal nods agreeably. "Layers within layers, we all must start somewhere. Who was the middleman then, Beth?"
> "Some old guy - looked like a scholar or something. Mannered and polite, but knew what to say. Name was a funny one, too. Irenes, spoke for 'we' and 'our mutual interests' and all that bunk." She nods after that.
<Shamal> "Irenes? Well, isn't that interesting... a wizard by that name is already wanted for grand theft arcana here in Balmuria. Looks like his rap sheet's about to get a whole lot bigger," Shamal notes, having no compunctions about giving free information to Beth, since she won't live long enough to do much with it. "What did he look like?" she asks, wanting to make sure it's not a coincidence - unlikely, given the name.
<Shamal> name being fairly unusual*
> "Had this thing on his head - this big brown, but it was like one unibrow. That's what I remember best. It's distinctive." She smirks and shakes her head, "Guy's a wizard? Didn't put him on that...heh. Makes this even more interesting now, and it explains a lot. Interestin', isn't it?"
> *brow
<Shamal> "Very, very interesting," Shamal nods slowly, her voice adopting a slightly droning quality as she idly taps her thumb and forefinger together by her face, using the repetitive motions along with her intonation to try and lull Beth into a hypnotic state.
<Shamal> OOC: Hypnotism, DC 16 will save with a -2 penalty
> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+4 and gets 24." [1d20=20]
> Beth just smirks, "Got my little self into something really interesting now, did I?"
<Shamal> "Oh, sorry," Shamal blinks after a moment of droning, trying to play it off as absent mindedness, "Yes, was just thinking... nevermind," she shakes her head. "So, what was the pay on offer for the job?" she asks, keeping things moving.
> As Beth looks away from Shamal, she happens to spy Berlioz. "Bein' quiet today, loverboy?"
> "35,000 gold. My big break," The assassins mirks, "Have enough after that to buy a small duchy! Someone biiiiig, isn't it?"
* Berlioz nods quietly to Beth. "I'm just here as an observer today. Heed me little mind."
<Shamal> "Honestly I'd be more worried if the death of a head of state could be procured cheaply," Shamal deadpans. "Even leaving aside the supposedly extinct fungus used in the attempt." Of course, she now has pretty strong suspicions as to where that fungus did come from.
> "Well, only the best go for this..." Beth trails off, "Fun, ain't it? Say, you think this is gonna get nasty," she ponders a moment.
<Shamal> "I saw Lord Salman this morning. I think we're already past 'nasty'," Shamal notes in that same deadpan. "So where did you meet Irenes, and how would payment have been collected?"
> "No, no, I ain't no fool. I'm talkin' 'bout if the big W comes of this. Boom." Her smirk grows, "Dunno who exactly it was, but it doesn't leave too many possibilities, does it? Payment would be delivered to my home."
> She ponders a moment, "East or West...either way..." she just smiles.
<Shamal> "If we can conclusively identify who hired you, we would of course have to take steps to ensure they do not threaten the United Baronies again. But no sense jumping to conclusions so soon," Shamal hums thoughtfully. "One thing puzzles me, though - Irenes told you of the cure, yes? Mixing the Death Cap with Mountain Aqua Sprigs?"
> "Nope." She smirks at that, "I did my studies on it on travel. I'd be a fool not to...oh, just in case." Her smile turns catlike at that, sharp as a knife. "Would you throw around something like that without coverin' your ass, girlie?"
<Shamal> "That's what puzzles me," Shamal replies curiously. "Given how quickly that poison can debilitate a person, a cure would surely need to be applied instantly, yes? But on your belongings we found no such Sprigs. So how were you planning on curing yourself if you'd had an unfortunate mishap? I don't believe you'd be in any fit state to go hiking, after all."
> "Oh, I knew I was dead if I screwed up...if I mishandled the poison, if I got cornered, if I got caught. Some ways would be more painful than others, but...started thinkin'. Got a lot of gold waiting for me if I survive. Best way's not to get caught. Only other way...if some deseperate or high minded officials start talkin' to me and makin' noise about wanting me to spill." She smiles here, grim. "I don't wanna die, ya know."
<Shamal> "Mmmhmm," Shamal nods thoughtfully, thinking over what she knows about Mountain Aqua Sprigs.
> OOC - Knowledge nature, shaman girlie.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+14 nature?
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+14 nature? and gets 30." [1d20=16]
<Shamal> "Let's talk about how you did the deed, then," Shamal decides after a moment's thought. "How did you gain access to the temple and get close enough to poison Lord Salman?"
> "Slipped in a side door and did some basic recon. Found out what the servants would be wearing and slipped in. It's all trade secrets," She smirks at it, "Move like the wind, silent and unseen."
<Shamal> "You weren't dressed like a servant when we found you," the blonde points out.
> "Made a mistake - took a small detour to ditch the clothes in an alley. Didn't think you'd be that quick, girlie," She shrugs lightly. "No bleeding wonder it paid so well, you're either competent as hell or luckier than Tymora. Or jus' magical, too." Suddenly she snorts, almost laughing. "I got myself mixed up in some high powerin' magic bickerin', didn't I? Irenes on one hand, and you on the other."
> She does pause, "'splains how you tracked me, too. Rainy streets...pfah. Some magic."
<Shamal> "Come now," Shamal smiles pleasantly, "I had a look at that rapier of yours - clearly you're no stranger to arcana, yourself."
> "Paid and did enough for it!" She banters right back, "Back in my home land, wizard by the name of Jennes made it for me. Gonna ask 'bout that, too? Can't hurt shit with it, but you'll never miss. 'course, that's where the poison comes in."
* Shamal shakes her head. "It's not really relevant to the crime - I don't think anyone will care about resisting arrest, compared to the other charges, all things considered."
> "True enough." She chuckles now, "So tell me, since loverboy's keepin' his cute lips shut - what's next?"
<Shamal> "Yessss..." Shamal begins sibilantly, again trying to mesmerise Beth with her last hypnosis spell. "What next, indeed..."
<Shamal> OOC: DC 16, will save -2
> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+4 and gets 22." [1d20=18]
> Beth grins, "Ya sound like one of those fancy conners at the corner now, waving a pendulum around and sayin' that you'll get them to remember things they lost."
<Shamal> "Oh, sorry," Shamal blinks and shakes her head, "Just lost in thought for a moment. I believe I'm done for now - if I have any more questions I'll know where to find you, I'm sure."
> "Yep..." She ponders a moment, licking her lips, "Have fun with that, and you two, loverboy," With a rakish grin she relaxes, "Got nothin' better to do now, do I?"
<Shamal> "You could always work on a stirring speech for your trial to see if you can sway the judge into finding mercy despite your obvious guilt," Shamal replies breezily. "It would no doubt be a legendary display of oratory."
> So the two exit out of the cell... OOC - Balls are in your courts, talk or say what you want to do.
* Berlioz sighs. "Well, that didn't go as well as I'd expect, buuuuuuuut. If Beth is right, we have a recurring thorn in our side."
<Shamal> "The description of Irenes does match," Shamal notes, frowning. "Come on, let's go report in - I think we should re-examine those followers of Irenes that we apprehended previously."
* Berlioz nods and follows along. "Damned plot thickens."

[Anastasia]

> It comes from two ways. Berlioz and Shamal go back to find Commander Oberuth, yawning and waiting. However, Lyselle is already there, just saluting and being told to sit.
> Yawning in the meeting room, Commander Oberuth looks them over, "...oh, good. Sit down and get to it," he says, right to the poitn.
* Berlioz sits down, glancing to Shamal with a slight grin. "Your turn, nature damsel."
* Lyselle takes her seat, raising an eyebrow at her two remaining companions.
<Shamal> "Lord Salman's ailment has proven resistant to the spells of both myself and the high priest of Waukeen," Shamal begins without preamble. "I suspect it would take sixth circle magic at the very least to heal him. Failing that, however, there may be a non-magical cure."
> "Wonderful. Exactly what I wanted to hear." Taking a deep breath out, you see that your commander looks exhausted, "How fast can we have it prepared?"
<Shamal> "The cure requires a Mountain Aqua Sprig - they're reasonably common in the Galkass Mountains, so if none can be found in Balmuria, I could probably procure some and be back within three to four days at most," Shamal explains. "I will note that this 'cure' does come from the assassin, so it is by no means certain. However, it is all we have at the moment."
> "She's talking? Good." A breath is taken in and out, deepening and tired. "Gather it as fast as you can. Will you need help?"
* Shamal shakes her head. "I can move faster through the wilderness alone. There is more, however," she holds up her hand. "You remember our friend Irenes? Apparently he acted as the middleman in procuring the assassin's services."
> Oberuth's tiredness vanishes in a mere moment. He rubs his eyes, going straighter in his seat. "...I see. How well was he connected to others? What do you know about him?"
<Shamal> "Very little, sadly," the blonde admits. "We know he originally hails from Malmuth, and he has a strong interest in gnomish artifacts, but as to his allegiances we can only speculate. I would strongly suggest, however, that if his followers here in Balmuria have been released, that they be taken back into custody at once."
> "Ooooh, we didn't do anything foolish like that. They're still sitting in very quiet and well locked cells." Smiling a little at that, "Malmuth possibly connected, but it doesn't sound like anything strong enough to be a definitive link. As for the rest, the gnomes again. Hmph."
<Shamal> "The poison used has been thought extinct for a long time. I'd hazard a guess that he found it in a gnomish ruin - or if not him then whomever he works for," Shamal surmises.
> "Wonderful," Oberuth breathes out at that, deeply sagging. "Very well. While this is relevant, it's not enough to cast blame on Malmuth, so the issue of the gnomish ruins can wait a few days. Get the fastest horse you can find and leave as soon as possible, Shamal."
<Shamal> "I'll leave right away, sir," the blonde salutes and turns to depart.

There's some split path time here, so I'll give it in chunks as I work through it in the next post.

[Anastasia]

> "Also, since we've seen no activity at the border..." Oberuth shrugs thereafter, "If Malmuth is connected, they aren't immediately following through. However it turns out, we can hope our external matters won't explode shortly."
> With a nod to Shamal as she leaves, Oberuth turns to the others. "I need sleep," he annouces without fanfare. "Khardon's running a large part of things as well - you can report to him, as I think I'll be down for awhile. Dismissed, he's keeping office in the temple of Waukeen."
* Berlioz nods briefly and gets up, taking leave. This last string of events certainly took a toll on Oberuth's mental and physical health.
* Lyselle nods, still resting a hand on Frozen Oath, nor wanting really to take that hand away. "We'll try to keep a few extra eyes on things," she agrees lightly, gettng up and saluting before leaving.
> So out the two go. The town beams down with light, a sunny day with only a few puddles remaining from the rainstorm. The city is still subdued, guards highly visible and working. On reaching the Temple of Waukeen, you note that you see no traders today, only soldiers. Khardon keeps office in the grand hall, the same table Oberuth used, ad eep backed chair commandered. He listens to a soldier reporting, making a shooing gesture as he sees Lyselle and Berlioz approach.
> sees Lyselle and Berlioz approach.
* Lyselle glances at Berlioz, pushing back one of the tiny strands of hair that escape her braiding and the coronet of intertwined hair that circles her forehead. Stepping forward, she offers a formal smile, saluting. "Commander Oberuth indicated slumber was in his future, and that we should put ourselves at M'lord's disposal."
> "Right, right," Kicking his feet onto the table adn leaning back, "I believe the civilised way of saying this is that our balls are caught in the wagonwheels. We're undermanned and halfway to a state of war in one night. How's the bigger situation, I've been handling all the mundane patrolling information."
* Berlioz adjusts his monocle, shaking his head. "Not the best of worlds, truth be told. Shamal's off on an errand that may or may not save Salman's life, and the middleman on the assassination attempt is actually a now recurring figure in our investigations."
> "Oh, wonderful." Khardon snorts, "This day's going to be a classic before the noon meal. So then, you're just going to love this." Clearing his throat, "Since we're short and in a near panic, we need capable hands to take care of issues. I have two hear, neither of which are entirely capable for normal soldiers in any event."
<Lyselle> "And these would be...?" Lyselle prompts, giving default ascent in the question, tapping one finger on the pommel of her sword.
> "While I'll leave the meat of the other matter to your normal commander, since I'm just playing fill in? Though...by the way, who is the irritation that so needs a pointed lesson from us about manners? Anyway, a soldier was found washed up against the docks today, sick and feverish. He was on patrol last night at the docks. Secondly?" (More)
> Steepling his hands, "I don't know if this was an overexcited or over drunk towsman or reality, but we received a report of a ghoul sighting. Considering the circumstances, I think it would be advisable to cover our flanks and at least peek into it." A pause as he kicks his legs up, "Preference, M'lady and M'lord," he smirks just a bit, "We don't need side issues recurring whilst we deal with all this."
* Lyselle gives a shrug, snorting a bit. "I haven't gotten rid of my mace yet, ghoul, probably," Lyselle says, hmphing. "Well, and steel armor doesn't float terribly well."
> "All good points." Going to lean back deeper, "The man's staying in the Dawn Pointe Inn. Apparently it happened near there as well."
<Lyselle> "A familiar area of town..." Lyselle agrees, glancing at Berlioz and snorting a little. "Spend a little too much time iin thaat area...anyway, seems like it." Lyselle shrugs, sighing internally at the everpresent reccurrence of things.
* Berlioz sighs. "Seems like phantoms of the past are all coming back at once to bite our legs until they're nothing but bones. The timing is -very- suspect."
> "Isn't it? Even if some of it is simply rotten fortune...the manure has been stirred and shaken." Wrinkling his nose, "If we're lucky the ghoul thing is nothing, but from what I understand the hag issue is more complex."
<Berlioz> "Everything that's been happening is recurring. And, considering who was the middleman in the assassination attempt, I sorely doubt this is a coincidence. Seems like a rather coordinated assault."
> "Well then, Mr. Monocle?" Smiling a bit, "The man's name is Pierstone. Get going, he's staying at the Dawn Pointe Inn. Let's work on coordinating solutions to our irritating problems. Do try not to destroy anything while you're there, hm? I hear stories about the Dawn Pointe Inn - the furniture has such a bad time of it."
* Berlioz grumbles. "That was certainly not my fault, sir. Blame a certain Donald paladin who overstayed his welcome in Balmuria. Regardless, I'll get there post-haste. Good luck, sir."
> "I didn't say it was," Khardon laughs merrily, the dark mood lifting on his face. "I'd merely heard of it. Between that, the talk of the ghouls and now these awards..hm. I suppose that puts you on three pieces of town gossip. Making a name for yourselves?"
* Berlioz nods. "Seems like trouble likes staying afoot when the Crimson Guard is around. At least, we're not being heralded as incompetent morons around these parts... or so I'd hope", the bard finishes with an acid grin.
> Khardon just smirks at that, "Wellt hen, don't give them a reason to. Now then...as much as I'd love to talk to our silent golden haired princess, do get going." With that, Khardon waves you off.
* Berlioz salutes firmly, and takes off. Lyselle can follow along, unless she likes being dragged off by vitriolic bards with questionable physical prowess.
> The Dawn Pointe Inn is quiet as the two approach it. The day is subdued, the butcher shop next door closed. Even with the sun out, a somber pall hangs over the city. The door the inn is closed, the entire place just...quiet.
* Berlioz approaches the inn, a mildly uncomfortable expression visible. The bard rubs his forehead. "Well."
<Lyselle> "Hm?" Lyselle asks, looking over at Berlioz. "Something wrong?" she asks lightly, eyeing the man.
<Berlioz> "Just a bit unnerved by the overall atmosphere around. I don't mind quiet, but this is downright eerie. Regardless...", the bard leaves the phrase hanging, heading to the inn and knocking the door.
> The door is not locked, opening a bit when Berlioz knocks. Inside, you see the inn keeper, a woman yawning. Her features are tired, heavy black bags under her eyes. "Welcome...g'day," she murmurs, "Oh, it's the guard again. You types keep coming around."
* Berlioz shakes his head, stepping inside, the feeling of awkwardness still strong. "Sadly, it's not unexpected, considering the hectic recent past. We are here to talk to a man named Pierstone, and we were informed that he is currently lodged in this inn."
* Lyselle nods, smiling wryly at the poor inn keeper. "Things just seem to happen."
> "Oh...oh yes. Second floor, room 201. First one left of the stairs..." The woman yawns again, fetching a key and laying it on the table besides her. "It's been so interesting here lately. The guard keeps coming and I have such fas..." ANother yawn, "Fascinating guests. Hm?"
* Berlioz rubs his temples, slightly annoyed, and grabs the keys shortly afterwards. "... fascinating guests? I hope this isn't yet another sign of trouble. And, for such an interesting place, you seem rather bored, lady."
> "I'm...not." She struggles not to yawn, rubbing her eyes instead. "Just..hard to get a lot of sleepw ith all this excitement?" she offers this hopefully, smiling despite how her eyes are darklined, body sagging.
* Lyselle smiles a bit, nodding. "Such is how things are in the busy and interesting parts of the city..." she agrees, glancing at Berlioz, since he holds the key.
* Berlioz nods darkly. "I can understand that. Seems like people can barely sleep these last few days", the bard speaks softly. "Well, we're going up. Thank you, lady", Berlioz finishes and begins heading up.
* Lyselle nods to the innkeeper again, heading up behind Berlioz.
> To the second floor you go. The room's door is closed, the hall quiet. It just waits for anyone to come by...
* Berlioz knocks on the door softly.
> You get a muffled, "Coming!" on that knock, the door soon opening. A pudgy, quiet looking man answers the door, skin unhealthy gray and not hidden well enough by a size too small tunic. "Come in, come in. You're part of the city guard?"
* Berlioz nods blankly. "Yes, sir."
* Lyselle nods, offering the same faint and polite smile. "That would be us, yes."
> He steps back into the plain, basic inn room. "I've heard the city guard's good at this, so it's a good day indeed. I never thought I'd see anything like that."
* Berlioz scratches his head, nodding. "Um. What happened?"
> Plopping down on the bed, the man scratches his stomach. His hair is a bit greasy, but his face is clean. "I was out last night when it happened - the dreadful thing with the Archduke. I came back a little late, and I passed through an alleyway to save some time. In the street, even with the rain, I saw it!" He pauses for breath, rubbing his sides.
* Lyselle steps inside the room, closing the door behind them and listening to the story as her smile fades. "Then what happened?"
> "I saw it - it was ambling in the street, groaning along. It had it's back hunched, going towards this very inn!" A shiver as he says that, "I stared even after it passed, but when I came out, I didn't see it and no one else had."
* Lyselle frowns, tapping the pommel of her sword thoughtfully with one finger. "Had you heard stories about the previous ghoul incidents in the city?"
> "I did," he admits, "They're still talked about in the bars when you ask for information. A brave group of guardsman routed them, I heard." His voice is slow, a little hard to hear. "I don't believe they actually exist, but I saw it. There's no way that ...thing was alive."
* Berlioz grumbles. "... are you absolutely certain about this, sir? What did 'that thing' look like, first things first?"
* Lyselle nods, glancing over at Berlioz. "Was there anything particularly notable about the ghoul? Identifiable clothing, objects, was it a hunchback or just sort of hunched over out of posture?"
> "It's skin was pallid pale with streaks of gray. It's mouth was opened, it smelled horrible. Like rotted meat." A deep, dank shiver again, "It was hunched over, and it's clothes were old and dirty. Maybe it was just a leper, but that skin and that smell.."
<Lyselle> "No other items adorning it?" Lyselle presses after a moment.
> A shake of  his head, "Not that I saw, just that dirty clothing." A curious tilt of his head at that, waiting.
<Lyselle> Lyselle shrugs, glancing over at Berlioz. "Not the same group of corpses, at least," she tells her companion, reviewing things. "Which alley was it precisely?"
> "I can show you if you want," Pierstone gets up, "It's not too -ooph- far."
<Lyselle> "That'd be helpful," Lyselle nods, stepping aside to let the man lead them.
> So back outside you go. Past the yawning innkeeper woman, looking exhausted. Past the butchery shop in the quiet day, a few tangs of meat and blood tingling your noses. To an alley a bit down the street, relatively clean and unremarkable. In front of it he stands, a few feet out. "Right here."
* Lyselle nods, looking to Berlioz. "Anything more you can think of?" she asks both the males present, pushing at blonde strands that always seem to get loose around her ears.
> "I think it drooled or something here, but it was raining, so..." He shrugs and coughs, looking down. "It would've washed away anything anyway."
* Berlioz sighs. "This makes its trail inconveniently obscure. Do you have any idea if it was following a direction or just randomly strolling around?"
> "I don't know," he admits, "I, well..." He looks away, "I froze up. Maybe you can find it if you know this area better?"
* Lyselle nods. "We'll take a look around for anything useful...what direction was it coming from?"
> He considers just a moment, "I think...that way," he points away, continuing away from the inn.
* Lyselle nods again, wishing things could just be solved with divination. "Thank you for your time, then, we'll look into it from here. Unless my partner has any further questions..."
* Berlioz sighs, shaking his head. "No, not really."
> "Okay," the man agrees, nodding once before nearly waddling back towards the inn.
* Lyselle looks to Berlioz once again as the man goes out of earshot. "Thoughts? Didn't have the gold medallion, disappeared shortly..."
* Berlioz sighs. "It seems that they're more likely to be a part in a string of distractions than a menace on their own, quite frankly. These aren't the same ghouls we dealt with, I think. And their objectives are probably more defined."
* Lyselle nods. "If in fact, they are ghouls. I'm beginning to suspect illusions given the manner in which they vanish," Lyselle agrees, starting to inspect the alley, the street, ad the like, taking her time for careful look around and prodding. "We should make a search of this, and then report the odd circumstances...there isn't a whole lot we can do after the fact unless we want to stake it out."
* Berlioz nods wistfully. "There... yeah, we don't have a bevy of choices here. This... it's probably Irenes, isn't it."
> A half hour of searching suits Lyselle well. Most of what she finds are still occasionally damp cobblestones or the like, a few small puddles here and there. There's some trash and a forgotten pile of horse waste in one corner. However, the butcher's shop smells quite strong, the smell of not so good meat coming from that building. There are old bloodstains around it.
<Lyselle> "To be paranoid," Lyselle starts, as she carefully prods around takes her itme inspecting the area. "It could be Irenes giving us a run around, it could be Malmuth trying to divert our attention to civil matters, so that either we deal with them, or we face domestic unrest because the guard can't handle their undead problem...or any number of plots.
<Lyselle> It could be the gnomes coming back to life to take over a city once their's," Lyselle offers, laughing very quietly as she finishes her search, frowning after a moment. "...Let's take a look into this shop, the meat smells less than fresh cut."
> The butchery's front door is closed, you notice. It's windows have heavy curtains placed over them, preventing ou from seeing inside.
* Lyselle reaches up, rapping lightly on the door. "So really...this could just be anything, it's too vague to make much of a judgement."
* Berlioz nods. "We could return here at night. We're more likely to find what we're looking for."
> The door knock sounds, but nothing happens. It's still quiet here, aside from your chatting and the knocking on the door.
<Lyselle> "...Probably, and I've got a faintly bad feeling. We might want to wait for Shamal, or at least have back up within reach," she nods, stepping back and turning. "So now we report?"
* Berlioz bites his lips, agreeing somberly. "Yes. Not much we can do right now."
Meanwhile...
> Okay, lay out your plan in here for me?
<Shamal> Grab Laika and the wolves at my house, along with supplies for a few day's journey, then head straight for the mountains.
> Okay. What are you going to be searching for in particular?
<Shamal> Actually, just taking 1 wolf, and using all my level 1 druid slots to memorise Traveller's Mount (spell compendium - lasts an hour per level and increases animal's land speed by 20) on horse, Laika, and wolf so we can move faster.
<Shamal> Basially looking for caves likely to contain water. I'm sure my aweseome survival skills would let me find one easily enough.
> Okay. It'll take a part of a day to reach the mountain edges that way. Okay, yeah, hm. Make a survival check.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+13 (guidance)
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+13 (guidance) --> [ 1d20=17 ]{30}
> The going is tricky, even with Shamal's training. The mountains are simply horrid and nasty, drizzly and chilly rain falling. Even the wolf and Laika have difficulties, but finally you find a small cave. It's tucked away under a large outcropping of rock, a worn away path that cuts deeply into the earth. You can't see inside, but you can smell water.
<Shamal> "Here we are," Shamal smiles at the sight of a likely prospect, banishing her magically summoned mount and likewise dispelling the spell on Laika and Ringo that let them move faster at the expense of their fighting ability, just in case the cave has any unfriendly residents. "Come on," she bids both canines to follow her inside, casting a light spell on her staff for illumination.
> Inside is a long, narrow and slightly twisting path of rock. The air flows from the back, a solid breeze of unusual steadiness. The rock is old and pitted, several holes in it as you begin to go down the way. The smell of water is strong on the breeze, mold and aqua and other thigns.
* Shamal keeps an ear out for any noises that might indicate other inhabitants of the cave, while her eyes are focused on looking for Aqua Mountain Sprigs as she follows the twisting hole carved into the mountain.
> OOC - Listening check.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+10 --> [ 1d20=12 ]{22}
> Shamal doesn't see much of anything on the ground yet, just plain rock. But soon you come to an end, a small chamber with the latter part leading to the edge of a mostly hidden riverway.
> Little plants grow around it, the water moving rapidly.  It's quite a place, the sound ofw ater thick.
<Shamal> Assuming the noises to belong to insects or tiny animals, Shamal doesn't pay the skittering noises too much mind as she crouches by the edge of the water, looking around for any sign of Mountain Aqua Sprigs.
> OOC - Knowledge nature, I suppose.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+14
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+14 --> [ 1d20=13 ]{27}
> You can see that the river continues to go past the cave cleanly as you kneel, just a bit of the weep waters visible. The plants around it are exactly what Shamal seeks, however! OOC - Hearing checks again, everyone.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10 shamal
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+10 shamal --> [ 1d20=6 ]{16}
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 laika
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+5 laika --> [ 1d20=12 ]{17}
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3 Ringo
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+3 Ringo --> [ 1d20=13 ]{16}
<Shamal> "Shocker lizards," Shamal frowns, reaching into her bandolier for a scroll. "I really do not have the time for this..." Holding up the scroll, she proceeds to read off the magic words, causing the rock around the holes to turn into soft clay, which proceeds to shift and settle downwards as gravity pulls it from the still rocky surface past the spell's effect.
> The ground turns to soft clay, holes sinking down! You hear loud noises and scamperings, things in the wall stirred! But most of the holes are quickly shut or greatly reduced in size!
<Shamal> With the shocker lizards hopefully stalled for a while, Shamal casts the Mage Hand cantrip to pluck up a decent sample of Aqua Sprig and bring it to her, whereupon she carefully bags the sample. "Okay, let's get out of here boys and girls!" she cheerily encourages her canine friends, returning back the way she came from the cave.
> roll 1d20+5
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20+5 --> [ 1d20=10 ]{15}
> roll 1d20+5
> roll 1d20+5
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20+5 --> [ 1d20=17 ]{22}
> roll 1d20+5
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20+5 --> [ 1d20=6 ]{11}
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d20+5 --> [ 1d20=20 ]{25}
> Shamal and her two pets quickly begin to flee the cave! Back through the twisting passage, but as they pass by, they can see two shocker lizards come out around the halfway mark! They look a bit disorented.
<Shamal> "Ignore them," Shamal orders her dogs, urging them to hustle past the lizards, and giving them a decent berth herself as she starts into a jog to get past them and out of the cave faster.
> The lizards aren't coherent enough to rustle out, and Shamal makes her escape! Out to the lip of the cave and into the cloudy rain, away from shocking lizards! One does follow, looking out and cracking with an electric blue energy around it's body, back inside the cave!
* Shamal doesn't stick around to say goodbye, already skipping down the mountainside with her two canine friends, back to Balmuria on her errand of mercy!

[Anastasia]

> So the party returns! The day passes, little to do but waiting. Soon enough, however, a rider returns. Shamal comes back with the promised materials, the party meeting Khardon in the still commandered hall of Waukeen. "Well then..." A breath, "Let's be brief. Inform me of what happened, while Shamal goes to make her preparations?"
* Shamal barely stops to say hello before going to get the mushrooms and then return home to her alchemy lab so she can make the (assumed) cure.
> OOC - Okay, #evil to quickly dealwith that.
* Lyselle just offers Shamal a wave and a smile before turning back to Khardon. "Upon interviewing Pierstone, we've concluded that it's not the same group of ghouls as before, if it's even ghouls. He described it disappearing, so it remains a possibility there could've been an illusion. No evidence was found in the area, but now that Shamal's back, there's a suspicious butcher shop we'd like to investigate."
> "Damnable irritations. Next you'll see gnomes in the sky," he says with a tiny chuckle, nonetheless warming up. "Once we've resolved Lord Salman's condition, by all means. Anything else of note regarding this?"
* Lyselle shakes her head. "Other than the suspect nature of the butcher shop, I wouldn't say so. Everything seemed purely normal other than the sighting."
> "Odd. I had inquiries go into the docks, but no more sightings or any unusual sea occurances, or disease ridden madams of the ocean." A small msile at that, "I suppose your coming dignity is still intact, Berlioz?"
* Berlioz snickers dryly. "Has it ever been, really?"
> "Well, you could serve M'lady?" Khardon banters back, "I would imagine Lyselle to be a fair and just mistress, no?"
<Berlioz> "She has her own interests in mind, and they're far away from a Southerner. It's not like I have my eyes set on her, either. Regardless", the bard adjusts his monocle and coughs.
> "Oh yes, well, I suppose she wishes for other things," Khardon coughs delicately, "Such things beyond the reckoning ken of mere commoners, but I can assure you that it is not a bad thing."
* Lyselle rolls her eyes, a faint muttering of 'men' as she offers a light smile at Khardon. "Most would think the wintery rocks of our northern homes make us harsh...that's the opinion of mostherners, anyway."
<Lyselle> *most southerners
> As Lyselle laughs and mutters, a speedy Shamal soon returns. Khardon rises at her arrival, "Let's go," he says, smile gone as he quickly begins to head back.
Meanwhile...
> Okay. Going to combine things up?
<Shamal> Yep, going to make two doses, one for me to test and one for Salman. I'll also cast detect poison on the combined result before testing on myself just in case there's anything obvious.
> Okay. Hmm. We'll call this alchemy.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+12 alchemy (guidance)
<Reiko-chan> Shamal rolled : 1d20+12 alchemy (guidance) --> [ 1d20=3 ]{15}
* Shamal facepalms.
> The first attempt fails! While I'll assume you're not being too uncautious, you to get some exposure to the poison and waste a bit of the material.
> roll 1d6
<Reiko-chan> Kotono rolled : 1d6 --> [ 1d6=1 ]{1}
* Shamal tries again, this time taking 10 for a result of 21.
> This time Shamal is able to combine the two materials. While a bit was lost, there's enough for two doses still.
<Shamal> With two vials of the presumed cure, Shamal securely bags up what's left of the evil death mushrooms (evidence!) and cleans all the surfaces around the lab with prestidigitation to avoid contamination. That done, she casts detect poison and takes a look at the two vials.
> The vials are not poisonous at all.
> They are a light blue shade, almost like water with just a tint of color. It doesn't even smell bad at all now.
<Shamal> Excellent! Putting both of them in her belt pouch, she hurries to the temple of Waukeen!
Back to the main narrative!
* Shamal hurries into the room where Lord Salman is resting before she fumbles in her belt, taking out one of the blue vials. "I made two doses, just in case - it doesn't seem to be poisonous anymore, but I'm going to test it on myself first. I hope someone has a neutralise poison spell handy if I'm wrong," Shamal explains, only sounding just a tiny bit nervous.
> "I'll call for the head priest if you are," Khardon says, waving his hand. Lord Salman still rests, pallid and barely breathing. The guards by his bed look on, interest in their eyes.
* Shamal waits for the Waukeenar to arrive before she pops off the cap on her solution. "Bottom's up," she grins weakly, before tossing the blue liquid down her throat.
> It tastes faintly like mushrooms and spring water. On drinking it, SHamal feels no different than before.
* Shamal remains almost motionless, simply standing and waiting...
> Nothing happens. Shamal feels fine, as Khardon watches on. "Well? You aren't seeing the Gods beckoning you home, are you?"
<Shamal> After a minute elapses, the blonde sags in relief. "Okay, I think it's safe," she confirms, before going to the head of Lord Salman's bed and lifting his head up before she pours the other vial into his mouth, tilting his head back and gently stroking his throat to encourage swallowing.
* Lyselle murmurs a few prayers to Helm as they wait, having but only such to offer her liege.
> Within seconds after swallowing, Lord Salman takes a deep breath in! His bearded face shows a sudden ruddiness that was missing, his breathing a score times over stronger. His arms twitch, then his mid section, then his legs. Moving, testing.
<Shamal> "It's working!" Shamal exclaims jubilently, deciding to toss on a lesser restoration spell to speed things up, hoping the magic will take now that the poison is no longer ravaging Salman's innards.
> "I daresay that it looks to be working..." Khardon exhales out like a hammer striking metal.
> Lord Salman stirs at this, an incoherent but solid moan as Shamal casts potent magic on him. His color is returning as you watch, the magic making it speed along. He takes another breath and then two more, each filling up his lungs entirely, exhaled slowly.
<Shamal> roll 1d4 if it's actually worth something
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d4 if it's actually worth something and gets 3." [1d4=3]
> "Thank Lathander..." One of the guards murmurs quietly, watching with rapt attention.
* Lyselle just smiles quietly. "And we can hope that that's the last..."
> "I would wish so, but I doubt it even more raptly," Khardon murmurs out of the side of his mouth, and then after clearing his throat, "Guard, go send word to Commander Oberut immediately, so the good news can be spread."
<Shamal> "Mielikki be praised," Shamal smiles in palpable relief, standing up straight now as her lord appears to be on the road to recover. "Whatever happens now, at least we still have Lord Salman to lead us through it."
> "Speaking of..." Khardon mutters to himself, as Salman stirs once more, "Tell me, any preferences on the sort of bounty we put on the head of this Irenes? REally now, it would set such a bad example to let him go spellcasting along his merry way after this."
<Shamal> "Thirty five thousand was what he offered Beth," Shamal observes. "I'd hope we can at least match that... although we may be setting our sights too low if Irenes was just an intermediary."
* Berlioz folds his arms, eyes sighting the ground. "I'm not sure if any bounty would be high enough in the eyes of the Balmurian, quite frankly. I'd just slap an arbitrary value on that."
> "Still, he would be a nice start." Khardon watches as Lord Salman stirs again, this time cracking his eyes open. He coughs, voice strangled.
<Shamal> "Ah, I believe Lord Salman could use something to drink," Shamal says, looking around to see if there's any liquid refreshment handy.
> There's some water that can be found on a table.
<Berlioz> "After our last woes with this, I think you might want to guarantee it's not causing any problems, Shamal."
> Khardon turns sharply, "I would hope not," he murmurs, "The water should be safe."
* Shamal winces. "I already used my only spell to detect poison when making the cure, Berlioz. I'd hope the current security arrangements would stop anyone getting poison into our Lord's bedchambers."
<Shamal> "But if I must..." Shamal takes a swig of the water herself and waits a moment.
> Shamal feels fine, besides that the water's a little too warm for her tastes.
<Shamal> "Bit warm," she observes, using her still running prestidigitation effect to reduce it to a more cool temperature before helping Salman to sit up and offering him a drink to soothe his throat.
> The water is drank down, Lord Salman coughing at the end. "Ugh..." With that he lies back down, "Did I get ill? I can't remember."
<Lyselle> "Poison, my lord," Lyselle offers quietly, hands folded in front of her.
> "...I see it failed, if I'm here," He says, voice rasping minorly. "Have you captured the poisoner?"
> "The first one, but there's evidence of deeper wrongdoing," Khardon says, quite restrained and bland. "The Crimson Guard directly apprenended the poisoner before she escaped the city, but deeper elements remain at large."
<Shamal> "Yes. It was a most uncommon poison - the ravages it caused were availed naught by magic, although the assassin told us of the cure in hopes of being shown mercy," Shamal relates, wondering how exactly she feels about Beth being shown mercy. She didn't have to tell them the cure, but at the same time, can they really afford not to punish her to the fullest extent? In a way she's glad it's not her decision.
> "I see...I see." He coughs, "Done well..." He licks his lips, "But I fear I need more rest. Go on for now."
<Shamal> "By your leave," Shamal bows and retreats.
* Lyselle adds her own deep bow, smiling warmly to her lord before she slips out of the room behind Shamal.