A Party Formed, A Report Compiled
General Summary
The rise and fall of finely crafted leather boots upon the beautifully chiselled, alabaster stone hallway echoed throughout the palace, ushering in the coming of the mercenary whose sole purpose has been to watch and report on the new group that came into town. Remus, ever the consummate professional, pushed open the elegantly decorated doors and entered Trade Prince Mustaph’s audience chamber bowing to his employer and benefactor with a flourish and tipping his rawhide hat.
“Certainly the most interesting group to have been watching m’lord, they have been quite busy indeed.” Remus’ thick Rancher accent coming through in stark contrast to the distinguished, cultured tones of Trade Prince Mustaph. “Well, by the forgotten gods, pray tell.”
“I hope you’re comfy m’lord, there’s a fair amount to cover.” Remus inhales deeply, drinking in the sweet floral scents that permeates the Trade Princes palace, watching as his employer shifts in his luxurious armchair, taking on a relaxed yet commanding posture. “The group comprises of a mixed ensemble, there’s the Tabaxi – Violet, feisty and armed with a bow comprised of the very shadows within which she likes to dwell. Marokh, a FREE minotaur, has some competency in the magical arts, wielding a giant dragon-headed axe, I think he enjoys the irony, says he is of “The Tattered Banner”. Next there is Halros, by all accounts a relatively new addition to the group, still finding his stride, always manages to be where the action is not, through coincidence or planning I am unsure. The last consistent member of the group is Aratheo, or the Crusader as he has come to be known in the Arena. Headstrong and devout, following a deity that he calls Aegwyn or The Lady, one to watch as he is bringing his own crusade to Ankhet’s streets. The final member of the cast is always changing, usually wearing a different face and always elusive. Speaks in tones befitting those of a higher station usually and quite adept and verbal duelling. Despite the change in appearance I suspect the same individual is behind the many faces however their name is unknown to me.”
Mustaph takes a sip of a dark crimson liquor from a silver goblet, pondering for a moment, finely pronounced eyebrow raised, he sets the goblet down and motions for Remus to continue. “The group came into town around a week ago accompanied by the merchant Gregor, a man who is crippled by debts to the Nurian key. Partaking in street meats and watching the officially sanctioned bout in the arena they separated from Gregor. It would appear though that they left something of great value with the merchant, not of their own volition it would seem as they were seen later chasing a very naked Caravaneer down the bazar after leaping from Madame Helga’s.” Trade Prince Mustaph takes another sip from his silver goblet and eyes Remus impatiently “I appreciate the thoroughness of your report but please, cover the key notes for me and not what they ate each day.” Remus tilts his head, obscuring his face with the shadow cast from his ebony hat, concealing a smirk.
“As you wish m’lord. To summarize, Aratheo finds himself walking through the Harrows in the dead of night, is beset upon by a group of thugs and finds himself engaged in a thrilling duel with the Tiefling known as Zahariel, owner of fighters in the less-official arena. Being bested by the Tiefling Aratheo is rendered unconscious and hauled away. The remainder of the group, after some searching finds themselves in an alley, talking amongst themselves, Violets hands emitted a strange purple light for a moment, perhaps she’s proficient in the magical arts also? However the group then headed off with purpose to gain entry to the underground. Navigating through Dorn and finding themselves seated around the arena. A series of interesting bouts went underway with the now dubbed Crusader. Standard affair before Kormire brings out Ironclad after the rest of the party intervene with an individual leaping from Kormire’s box to join the fray. They defeat the metal-bound behemouth. Exiting the Arena.” Remus pauses for a moment, then begins pacing back and forth on the alabaster floor, getting into full swing of his report. “Now the next few days, I’ll give footnotes. They performed at Madame helga’s, purchased banners and other things from the bazar, visited the physician, plucked the eyes from a cow and went on a blistering chase through the back alleys of Ankhet trying to tame creatures from Elana’s Exotic Emporium. Now is where it gets interesting. You recall the reports of the murders of those girls? The ones with the eyes removed. Well now is when they start investigating such things, Aratheo and Violet find Captain Majani, eventually combatting and dealing very swiftly with a vicious looking giant hound with flame that burns from underneath its charcoal skin. They visit the Temple of Anubis, depositing the body of the most recent victim. According to Majani he enlisted them to look into the case.” Trade Prince Mustaph takes another sip form the goblet and set it down upon the fine mahogany table. “Excellent work Remus, as always, do keep me informed, I feel like these are ones to watch.” Remus bows deeply, removing his hat with a flourish before returning it to his head, turning on his heel and walking out, his finely crafted leather boots padding once again on the alabaster stone of the palace hallway. He smirks, turns his head and winks at the camera. “Ones to watch indeed…”
The group find themselves at a junction, the one turning they have the job to recover the branch from a druid on behalf of Kormire, in order to save El Gringo, the other holds a fiendish threat, with Ankhet suffering killings that are happening more and more frequently, seemingly because of a Blacksmith who struck a bargain. After breaking into the blacksmiths abode, making the decision to tackle the town’s safety rather than El Gringo’s, they uncover a shackled Azer, with whom the party are unable to communicate with. Talking with Pearce, the dealing blacksmith, they discover that he appears to be entirely distraught with the whole affair, drowning his worries and sorrows at the bottom of a bottle.
“Certainly the most interesting group to have been watching m’lord, they have been quite busy indeed.” Remus’ thick Rancher accent coming through in stark contrast to the distinguished, cultured tones of Trade Prince Mustaph. “Well, by the forgotten gods, pray tell.”
“I hope you’re comfy m’lord, there’s a fair amount to cover.” Remus inhales deeply, drinking in the sweet floral scents that permeates the Trade Princes palace, watching as his employer shifts in his luxurious armchair, taking on a relaxed yet commanding posture. “The group comprises of a mixed ensemble, there’s the Tabaxi – Violet, feisty and armed with a bow comprised of the very shadows within which she likes to dwell. Marokh, a FREE minotaur, has some competency in the magical arts, wielding a giant dragon-headed axe, I think he enjoys the irony, says he is of “The Tattered Banner”. Next there is Halros, by all accounts a relatively new addition to the group, still finding his stride, always manages to be where the action is not, through coincidence or planning I am unsure. The last consistent member of the group is Aratheo, or the Crusader as he has come to be known in the Arena. Headstrong and devout, following a deity that he calls Aegwyn or The Lady, one to watch as he is bringing his own crusade to Ankhet’s streets. The final member of the cast is always changing, usually wearing a different face and always elusive. Speaks in tones befitting those of a higher station usually and quite adept and verbal duelling. Despite the change in appearance I suspect the same individual is behind the many faces however their name is unknown to me.”
Mustaph takes a sip of a dark crimson liquor from a silver goblet, pondering for a moment, finely pronounced eyebrow raised, he sets the goblet down and motions for Remus to continue. “The group came into town around a week ago accompanied by the merchant Gregor, a man who is crippled by debts to the Nurian key. Partaking in street meats and watching the officially sanctioned bout in the arena they separated from Gregor. It would appear though that they left something of great value with the merchant, not of their own volition it would seem as they were seen later chasing a very naked Caravaneer down the bazar after leaping from Madame Helga’s.” Trade Prince Mustaph takes another sip from his silver goblet and eyes Remus impatiently “I appreciate the thoroughness of your report but please, cover the key notes for me and not what they ate each day.” Remus tilts his head, obscuring his face with the shadow cast from his ebony hat, concealing a smirk.
“As you wish m’lord. To summarize, Aratheo finds himself walking through the Harrows in the dead of night, is beset upon by a group of thugs and finds himself engaged in a thrilling duel with the Tiefling known as Zahariel, owner of fighters in the less-official arena. Being bested by the Tiefling Aratheo is rendered unconscious and hauled away. The remainder of the group, after some searching finds themselves in an alley, talking amongst themselves, Violets hands emitted a strange purple light for a moment, perhaps she’s proficient in the magical arts also? However the group then headed off with purpose to gain entry to the underground. Navigating through Dorn and finding themselves seated around the arena. A series of interesting bouts went underway with the now dubbed Crusader. Standard affair before Kormire brings out Ironclad after the rest of the party intervene with an individual leaping from Kormire’s box to join the fray. They defeat the metal-bound behemouth. Exiting the Arena.” Remus pauses for a moment, then begins pacing back and forth on the alabaster floor, getting into full swing of his report. “Now the next few days, I’ll give footnotes. They performed at Madame helga’s, purchased banners and other things from the bazar, visited the physician, plucked the eyes from a cow and went on a blistering chase through the back alleys of Ankhet trying to tame creatures from Elana’s Exotic Emporium. Now is where it gets interesting. You recall the reports of the murders of those girls? The ones with the eyes removed. Well now is when they start investigating such things, Aratheo and Violet find Captain Majani, eventually combatting and dealing very swiftly with a vicious looking giant hound with flame that burns from underneath its charcoal skin. They visit the Temple of Anubis, depositing the body of the most recent victim. According to Majani he enlisted them to look into the case.” Trade Prince Mustaph takes another sip form the goblet and set it down upon the fine mahogany table. “Excellent work Remus, as always, do keep me informed, I feel like these are ones to watch.” Remus bows deeply, removing his hat with a flourish before returning it to his head, turning on his heel and walking out, his finely crafted leather boots padding once again on the alabaster stone of the palace hallway. He smirks, turns his head and winks at the camera. “Ones to watch indeed…”
The group find themselves at a junction, the one turning they have the job to recover the branch from a druid on behalf of Kormire, in order to save El Gringo, the other holds a fiendish threat, with Ankhet suffering killings that are happening more and more frequently, seemingly because of a Blacksmith who struck a bargain. After breaking into the blacksmiths abode, making the decision to tackle the town’s safety rather than El Gringo’s, they uncover a shackled Azer, with whom the party are unable to communicate with. Talking with Pearce, the dealing blacksmith, they discover that he appears to be entirely distraught with the whole affair, drowning his worries and sorrows at the bottom of a bottle.
Report Date
08 Nov 2024
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