D&D 5e : Lost Lords of the Dessarin

[Silver Screen Fiend]

You all start this adventure as strangers. For one reason or another, you have all arrived in the town of Amphail on the same day. This place is a quiet, pastoral village that serves as a suburban home for many Waterdhavian nobles, and many more prosperous farmers and ranchers. In the center of town is a enormous statue of a proud black horse that has been gelded, most likely by some prankster. Nearby is the only watering hole, The Stag Horned Flagon. It seems like a warm, dry place with a cozy atmosphere. There are some opulent manners here, too, all of them packed up close and tight around the square.

There is something that detracts from this otherwise idealistic scene, however. In the center of town is a recently constructed wooden gantry that supports a thick heavy rope that holds up a ragged looking man in an iron cage. His skinny legs hang from the flat bars, swaying in the breeze, and a haze of flies surrounds his pallid form. He is a human, from what anyone can tell, though his face is obscured by long, greasy black hair, and his bony fingers grip the cage helplessly. Two City Watch guards sporting Waterdeep crests on their shields stand guard upon the gantry, leaning on their spears and doing their best to ignore the smell. You can't tell if it comes from the imprisoned man, or just from the area itself, but something foul permeates the atmosphere. In fact, all the locals seem to cover their faces with clean linen cloths wherever you look. One would expect more folk to be out on such a bright, pleasant day, but every window is shuttered and every door closed shut. There are no children playing in the meadow, no young couples holding hands, nor any noblemen out riding their horses in the pasture.

There are rats, though. Big fat black dead ones. They've been nailed to the fronts of doors by their tails by the dozen. None are seen alive, at least not yet, but it's obvious Amphail has a rat problem, or did have a rat problem, at least. A smart traveler would head on down the road and avoid such a grotesque scene, but the sun draws down upon the horizon, and the cool winds whip across the valley, leaving a nip in the air. It's a two day journey from here to Red Larch on the Long Road, and rumors of bandit attacks have been hovering around the teamster wagons. Some of you have a reason for being in Amphail, others may just be passing through, but each of you gets the impression that something is going to happen here, good or bad.

 

[BadAnime]

"Well, that doesn't look good." Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. "...Or smell good, for that matter." she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. "What did the man do?" she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage; after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for.

 

[RPG-Girl]

She would have come into town quietly, but she did not seek to hide what she was overmuch, as really, there was little point. She could keep up a magical disguise for two hours a day, but at the end of the day it was better to bring up that Do'Urden and ask people if they thought he was the only one? Granted, she was not a renegade, but when the sheep outnumber you enough that a stampede poses a credible risk? Better to let them convince themselves with a good example, allusion and letting them draw their own conclusions.

Still, as she sits in The Staged Horned Flagon, nursing a glass of wine, relaxing in a darker corner of the room, she would have her own inquires and questions, at least in part of recent events, and how the rats have been effecting the crops and herds, and if that disreputable man in the cage had any connection with all of this?

 

[pods6827]

As he walked through the town's streets, Sir Roland wondered just what was going on in Amphail. Everywhere he looked he found rats nailed to doors, and there was a foul stench in the air that he couldn't quite place. If not for the late hour he'd likely have chosen to pass the town on by, but there was something else that made him inclined to stop here. It wasn't anything truly tangible, but he had a feeling that something was going to happen here, and it was setting him on edge. So he'd told his companions to do whatever they needed before the day's end and went off in search of a place for them to stay the night.

It wasn't long before he'd found an inn, called The Staged Horned Flagon, and so he walked inside hoping to be warmed by the fire if nothing else. Approaching the bar, he took a seat and looked at whoever was standing there. "A mug of whatever ale you have, and if you have a room free I'll take it for the night." He looked around the room after he spoke, wondering who else had decided to stay the night rather than risk traveling in the dark.

 

[the fill-in]

Callie instinctively covered her nose as she entered and traveled a bit through the square in Amphail. Due to her parent's history of being carpenters she has had some dealings with terrible smells from the location, but she definitely wasn't used to the reek of death lying around, even if it were just large rats... Still, the rest of the town seems fine and dandy and that's a good thing, especially after walking around and while it was pretty quiet, there were people around, so it's not a ghost town!

Seeing a strange girl looking at a caged man hanging at the square, the voluptuous halfling paid no mind to it and decided to head to The Staged Horned Flagon as it felt most convenient for her since it was the nearest inn after stopping to settle for the night. She heads in with a cheer and a smile before realising she made a bit of noise and the last thing she wanted was for people to recognise her, so she quickly scanned around the inn before sighing of relief and heading to the bar, pushing herself up with some effort to the tall stools. "Agh, finally! Halflings, am I right? Needing to pull themselves up for the bigger things!" Callie chuckled with a big grin on her face. "I'd like some water, if you don't mind. And a place for the night too."

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

"Well, that doesn't look good." Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. "...Or smell good, for that matter." she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. "What did the man do?" she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage; after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for.

You meet a teamster dozing on the kick plate of his wagon, his face a pock-marked landscape of bad weather, alcoholism, and too many street fights. Beneath his lower lip was a fat wad of tobacco, which resulted in a nasty pile of brown spit just a few feet from his post. He seemed to be an expert spitter and demonstrated this by using the action to punctuate his statements.

"'E's a murdrer, 'e is." SPIT. "Led this noble band of adventurers to their deaths up at Red Larch, promisin' 'em gold 'e dint 'ave," SPIT, "watchen 'em get kilt by skelingtons," SPIT, "and heads back to town with 'eir valuables." SPIT. He took a moment to hook a big wad of brown tobacco from his mouth and threw it on the ground, rubbing his lips.

"Well, maybe not, could just be a coward, an' 'e meant to return the deceased's valuables to their next a' kin. Ol' Crow Eye's a monk, anyway. Or 'es 'sposed ta be. Now 'e's just a nutter. Always blabberin' on, not makin' a' lick a' since to no one. An' he stinks, an' we fink he brought the plague with 'em. I fink that anyway. I fink 'e's possessed. Or a demon. The Lord Warder thinks otherwise. They want ta hang 'em north a' here, but this here's Waterdeep's turf, and city doctrine says the bastard's gotta wait trial 'fore he hangs."

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

"Well, that doesn't look good." Lucretia commented when she took in the sights, the imprisoned man and the dead rats. "...Or smell good, for that matter." she added, twitching her delicate nose. Her voice was but a whisper, but somehow she was sure Stormbringer heard her. As weird as it is to say it, the sword has an ear for idle musings. "What did the man do?" she asked the first local she met who wasn't a guard - given her profession and history, her aversion to authority was almost instinctive. But she was curious about the man in the iron cage; after all, you never know what crimes people could get punished for.

Lucretia encounters a bald man reclining upon the kick plate of a trade wagon. Lean and ugly, he doesn't wear a linen mask, and chews a fat wad of tobacco in the side of his mouth. "He hired some adventurers from Red Larch, led them to some ruin by the Dessarin river, and had them eaten alive by goblins and skeletons. His hands were bloody, and in his sack he had the valuables of those he deceived. He somehow escaped burning at the stake, and the City Watch caught him when he came to town yesterday." He spits. "I say good riddance. He speaks nothing but madness-- must be possessed by some demon."

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

She would have come into town quietly, but she did not seek to hide what she was overmuch, as really, there was little point. She could keep up a magical disguise for two hours a day, but at the end of the day it was better to bring up that Do'Urden and ask people if they thought he was the only one? Granted, she was not a renegade, but when the sheep outnumber you enough that a stampede poses a credible risk? Better to let them convince themselves with a good example, allusion and letting them draw their own conclusions.

Still, as she sits in The Staged Horned Flagon, nursing a glass of wine, relaxing in a darker corner of the room, she would have her own inquires and questions, at least in part of recent events, and how the rats have been effecting the crops and herds, and if that disreputable man in the cage had any connection with all of this?

The matron of the tavern is a middle-aged human woman named Arleosa Starhenge. She raises an eyebrow to seeing a drow walk through her front door, but says nothing of it. She serves good enough wine, cracks a few jokes about the stallion outside, "him? Was my ex husband, 'till I turned 'em into a horse an' had 'em gelded", and does her best to be as accommodating as possible, being that there aren't many patrons around this time of day.

(( Roll persuasion to get information from Arleosa. ))

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

As he walked through the town's streets, Sir Roland wondered just what was going on in Amphail. Everywhere he looked he found rats nailed to doors, and there was a foul stench in the air that he couldn't quite place. If not for the late hour he'd likely have chosen to pass the town on by, but there was something else that made him inclined to stop here. It wasn't anything truly tangible, but he had a feeling that something was going to happen here, and it was setting him on edge. So he'd told his companions to do whatever they needed before the day's end and went off in search of a place for them to stay the night.

It wasn't long before he'd found an inn, called The Staged Horned Flagon, and so he walked inside hoping to be warmed by the fire if nothing else. Approaching the bar, he took a seat and looked at whoever was standing there. "A mug of whatever ale you have, and if you have a room free I'll take it for the night." He looked around the room after he spoke, wondering who else had decided to stay the night rather than risk traveling in the dark.

Entering the tavern you find the matron engaged in conversation with a dark-skinned elf in revealing clothing. The older woman turns to you, nods, and stands up from the table and walks over to the bar. She hears your order, proffers a pewter mug of frothy ale, and slides a room key over the counter. "Five silvers for the room, four coppers for the drink. Is there anything else I can do for you, fine sir? I'm afraid our rooms are modest, but they're clean, and dry, and the beds are soft."

After a pause, the matron fidgets with the bar cloth and averts her eyes. "I apologize for that drow, sir. I know it's akin to lettin' an orc into the establishment, but she seemed civilized enough, and she wasn't tryin' to harm nobody. I know it ain't propper, but... well, I can't just kick her out now I've taken her coin."

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

Callie instinctively covered her nose as she entered and traveled a bit through the square in Amphail. Due to her parent's history of being carpenters she has had some dealings with terrible smells from the location, but she definitely wasn't used to the reek of death lying around, even if it were just large rats... Still, the rest of the town seems fine and dandy and that's a good thing, especially after walking around and while it was pretty quiet, there were people around, so it's not a ghost town!

Seeing a strange girl looking at a caged man hanging at the square, the voluptuous halfling paid no mind to it and decided to head to The Staged Horned Flagon as it felt most convenient for her since it was the nearest inn after stopping to settle for the night. She heads in with a cheer and a smile before realising she made a bit of noise and the last thing she wanted was for people to recognise her, so she quickly scanned around the inn before sighing of relief and heading to the bar, pushing herself up with some effort to the tall stools. "Agh, finally! Halflings, am I right? Needing to pull themselves up for the bigger things!" Callie chuckled with a big grin on her face. "I'd like some water, if you don't mind. And a place for the night too."

The landlord of the Stag-Horned Flagon is serving a tall regal human male in polished chain mail at the bar next to you, and over in the other corner is a mysterious dark elf who sips wine and watches over events with keen green eyes. With a smile the matron serves you a tall glass of fresh well water free of charge, and hands you a brass key from a hook on the wall. "Yer in luck, girlie. Got one more left. It's yours for five silvers. You'll be right next door to this handsome fella here!"

 

[RPG-Girl]

She raises an eyebrow at the mention of the transformation and gelding of a former lover, even as she listens in to the comments about her, before she speaks, her voice amused and not betraying any of the sarcasm she would be feeling. "I must admit, I had not thought to encounter a powerful wielder of the art amongst the humans. I had assumed that your kind were blind savages, barely eking a living through raiding and cannibalism in some of the danker tunnels and crevasses." She chuckles, and there is amusement in it, as well as interest. "It would appear alas, that the information I possessed requires considerable revision."

She sighs, looking somewhat put out, though at the same time, excited. "But where there is life, there is the chance to learn and expand on what one knows. But then, as the lady Waukeen teaches, Saesi air vyror ail eir sol, sher shor cyrdaedi tystaer ei kaeraes vyrorol ail si shasol." She switched over to Elven at the drop of the hat, though she did lean forward a bit. "So, I am curious, is there a local custom involving rats?"

See more

Elvish to common translation; There is profit in all things, but with knowledge comes a greater position in the bargians.
Persuasion roll; 21

 

[BadAnime]

Lucretia encounters a bald man reclining upon the kick plate of a trade wagon. Lean and ugly, he doesn't wear a linen mask, and chews a fat wad of tobacco in the side of his mouth. "He hired some adventurers from Red Larch, led them to some ruin by the Dessarin river, and had them eaten alive by goblins and skeletons. His hands were bloody, and in his sack he had the valuables of those he deceived. He somehow escaped burning at the stake, and the City Watch caught him when he came to town yesterday." He spits. "I say good riddance. He speaks nothing but madness-- must be possessed by some demon."

"Dessarin river, you said?" that named caught Lucretia's attention, and her ears would have perked up if they weren't already perky pointy elvish ears. "Well, as it so happens, I'm something of an expert on demonic possession." now while Lucretia does dress more like someone in the oldest profession in the world than anyone who would have knowledge on demonic matters, her statement wasn't entirely false; from what she could learn on her own, her relationship with Stormbringer wasn't unlike that of a pact forged between fiend and man. "What madness had this demon-possessed soul speak of?"

 

[pods6827]

Roland placed the coins on the counter, taking the mug and key as he gave the landlord a small smile. "Thank you, but I should be fine for the moment." He paused for a moment as she mentioned the Drow sitting in the corner. The knight sent a look her way, vaguely wondering for a moment why one of the dark elves was so far from their home in the Underdark, before shaking his head. "No need to apologize, if she doesn't start any trouble then she'll have no quarrel with me."

He turned slightly to find a halfling climbing up onto the stool next to his, and his widened slightly at the size of her breasts, especially given the size of her frame. "Well met traveler," he said, raising his mug slightly in acknowledgement of her, It seems that we'll be neighbors for the night. Roland Corentus is my name, pleased to meet you."

As he introduced himself Roland overheard the drow speaking to their landlady, uttering a phrase in Elvish between her words in Common. He snorted into he ale as she spoke about her 'information'. "Not sure who told you all that," he said as he looked over to the drow, "But no, there's very little raiding, and even less cannibalism up here. At least in these lands anyway."

 

[RPG-Girl]

She smiled at him. "Oh, I was fairly sure that those that wandered into the world below for several generations only represented a single culture out of a widely diverse species. Assumptions of universal hegemony are a fairly foolish thing to assume, as from what my elder sister, who is much more traveled then myself, the only more varied race then ours are humans and demons." She chuckles then, shaking her head, and there is a smile as she looks at the landlady. "I had never received personal validation before my trip to the surface however."

And then, she sighs, looking disappointed. "It is a shame to find that the childhood tales of pale barbarians clad only in sandals in loincloths, looking like they had been baked clay, burnished to the shine of bone and silver from the sweat wrung out by the whip like lashes of the ever-raging sun are a lie though."

 

[the fill-in]

The landlord of the Stag-Horned Flagon is serving a tall regal human male in polished chain mail at the bar next to you, and over in the other corner is a mysterious dark elf who sips wine and watches over events with keen green eyes. With a smile the matron serves you a tall glass of fresh well water free of charge, and hands you a brass key from a hook on the wall. "Yer in luck, girlie. Got one more left. It's yours for five silvers. You'll be right next door to this handsome fella here!"

He turned slightly to find a halfling climbing up onto the stool next to his, and his eyes widened slightly at the size of her breasts, especially given the size of her frame. "Well met traveler," he said, raising his mug slightly in acknowledgement of her, It seems that we'll be neighbors for the night. Roland Corentus is my name, pleased to meet you."

Taking the key and drinking the glass of fresh water, she takes out a single gold coin and continues to smile. "I wouldn't mind a good meal as well, if you don't mind. Feel free to keep the rest as change." After the tall human had greeted Callie with a nod of acknowledgement and a toast, she turned to him and did the same with her glass before drinking it again. "The pleasure's all mine. They call me Lucky Callie. Well, they call me other things too based on my looks mostly, but this is what I'm most used to." The halfling then looked around at the room and took a bit of attention on the drow that was around as well. She had thought the elves were a fair-skinned kind since those are all the elves she met, it turns out even some can get tanned with enough sunlight. Though she heard bits of her conversation and Callie had heard her say something that she was living in caves or something along those lines, so it's strange how they have such skin living in the darkness. Then again, what does she knows about elves? In any case, she was a bit tired from continuous walking to this town and walking throughout the town and so she just sits around and look around at the situation to see what enfolds.

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

She raises an eyebrow at the mention of the transformation and gelding of a former lover, even as she listens in to the comments about her, before she speaks, her voice amused and not betraying any of the sarcasm she would be feeling. "I must admit, I had not thought to encounter a powerful wielder of the art among the humans. I had assumed that your kind were blind savages, barely eking a living through raiding and cannibalism in some of the danker tunnels and crevasses." She chuckles, and there is amusement in it, as well as interest. "It would appear alas, that the information I possessed requires considerable revision."

She sighs, looking somewhat put out, though at the same time, excited. "But where there is life, there is the chance to learn and expand on what one knows. But then, as the lady Waukeen teaches, Saesi air vyror ail eir sol, sher shor cyrdaedi tystaer ei kaeraes vyrorol ail si shasol." She switched over to Elven at the drop of the hat, though she did lean forward a bit. "So, I am curious, is there a local custom involving rats?"

See more

Elvish to common translation; There is profit in all things, but with knowledge comes a greater position in the bargians.
Persuasion roll; 21

The tavern's matron is not a true magic caster, but you sense a degree of innate magic about her. She grins at your compliment on her magical aptitude, then waves her hand. "Ah, you misunderstand. That's just a statue, and I've never married. Not really a magic user, either, but I have a strange ability. Aye, it's been many years since I used it. Let's see." She closes her eyes, concentrates, and suddenly shifts into a mirror image of yourself, clothing included, before suddenly slipping back into her old self. "Hell, that takes some effort, but it was a useful carnival trick back in the old days. That's long behind me, though. Now, you inquired about goings on?" The matron clears her throat and leans against the counter.

"Less than a week ago plague hit the town of Red Larch, which is two-and-a-half days north o' here on the Long Road. Half the local population came sick from that black disease spread by vile rats, and many of their young and old have already died. That happened when a stranger came to town, some monk by the name of Crow Eye. That's the man you see out there in the cage." She points out the window.

"Don't know what he was like 'fore he set food in Amphail, but the teamsters tell me he could speak perfect common, and was kind to strangers. That wretch out there, though, speaks nothin' but gibberish, stinks to high hell, and seems to be followed by rats everywhere he goes. We wised up to this nonsense, though, and have been killin' every one a' them rodents we can get our hands on. The three families that run our village have the resources to sick terriers and hawks after them, and we're keeping our hands and noses clean and staying in doors, just in case. Killed 200 of the bastards already, but somethin' tells me there'll be more unless that mad bastard gets goin' to Waterdeep. Heaven help the people that live there-- they already have plenty o' rats in that cesspit."

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

"Dessarin river, you said?" that named caught Lucretia's attention, and her ears would have perked up if they weren't already perky pointy elvish ears. "Well, as it so happens, I'm something of an expert on demonic possession." now while Lucretia does dress more like someone in the oldest profession in the world than anyone who would have knowledge on demonic matters, her statement wasn't entirely false; from what she could learn on her own, her relationship with Stormbringer wasn't unlike that of a pact forged between fiend and man. "What madness had this demon-possessed soul speak of?"

The teamster shrugs. "Can't say. Ain't a priest, nor an expert on the occult. Guards won't let anyone near 'em, but you can throw rocks and rotten produce at 'em if it'll make ya feel better. I mean, a strange man comes into town, lookin' like he's been on the road for a month, with a wild, hungry look in his eyes, spouting gibberish and waving his arms around like a nutter? Well, what else would you expect? Course, he might be just plane crazy, but what on earth would drive a man mad like that?"

See more

Stormbringer almost vibrates with excitement. His gravely voice calls out to your mind, "he's touched by evil, yes. But he's a good man, that monk. Get closer, and maybe I can divine his ailment. If the guards won't let you near, just offer to suck their cocks, or maybe you'll get away with just flashing your tits."

 

[BadAnime]

"Dessarin river, you said?" that named caught Lucretia's attention, and her ears would have perked up if they weren't already perky pointy elvish ears. "Well, as it so happens, I'm something of an expert on demonic possession." now while Lucretia does dress more like someone in the oldest profession in the world than anyone who would have knowledge on demonic matters, her statement wasn't entirely false; from what she could learn on her own, her relationship with Stormbringer wasn't unlike that of a pact forged between fiend and man. "What madness had this demon-possessed soul speak of?"

The teamster shrugs. "Can't say. Ain't a priest, nor an expert on the occult. Guards won't let anyone near 'em, but you can throw rocks and rotten produce at 'em if it'll make ya feel better. I mean, a strange man comes into town, lookin' like he's been on the road for a month, with a wild, hungry look in his eyes, spouting gibberish and waving his arms around like a nutter? Well, what else would you expect? Course, he might be just plane crazy, but what on earth would drive a man mad like that?"

See more

Stormbringer almost vibrates with excitement. His gravely voice calls out to your mind, "he's touched by evil, yes. But he's a good man, that monk. Get closer, and maybe I can divine his ailment. If the guards won't let you near, just offer to suck their cocks, or maybe you'll get away with just flashing your tits."

"I see. Thank you, sir." Lucretia thanked the bald man with a smile before she quietly sighed at Stormbringer's comment. "Alright, alright." she whispered to the blade as she began to make her way toward the man in iron cage. While she'd prefer to not suck anyone's cock in broad day light, if the monk is truly a good man who's unfortunately touched by evil, then Lucretia felt that she should at least try and help him. For now, she kept Stormbringer in his sheath and her tits in her top, but she's ready to reveal either to get past the guards.

 

[RPG-Girl]

She pauses, and her lips come together, as the sorceress thinks over the information. She would have filed the matrons innate ability as something interesting, but not a priority, unless she could figure out a way to replicate it, or gain it for herself, though if that was actual shapeshifting, instead of an illusion? That could raise the value in a great degree, particularly if it was not limited to just the person in front of her. And so, she would adopt an expression of interest, before she speaks.

"I can assume the standard tests for possession or curses have been applied?" Her tone was interested, curious, but also detached and almost more professional then anything else. "Or even just magic being laid on him? I speak only of course, to try and reconcile the two pictures shown of the man, and the events surrounding him. I wonder..."

She would be tapping her right index finger on her chin.

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

[/quote]

"I see. Thank you, sir." Lucretia thanked the bald man with a smile before she quietly sighed at Stormbringer's comment. "Alright, alright." she whispered to the blade as she began to make her way toward the man in iron cage. While she'd prefer to not suck anyone's cock in broad day light, if the monk is truly a good man who's unfortunately touched by evil, then Lucretia felt that she should at least try and help him. For now, she kept Stormbringer in his sheath and her tits in her top, but she's ready to reveal either to get past the guards.
[/quote]

These guards aren't used to seeing a young woman as beautiful as yourself in such revealing garb. They wear the rusty mail and ragged tabards of veteran guardsmen, leaning on their spears with their shields slung over their shoulders. Their eyes focus on you as smiles creep upon their faces, and one of them even whistles as you approach.

Up from the gantry one of them calls out, "good evenin', miss. Came to gawk at the prisoner, have you?" His partner chuckles and scratches his neck.

Crow Eye, though, comes to life and starts swinging the cage as he rattles the bars with his hands, his cracked lips rasping out indecipherable words. His one good eye is wild and desperate, but the other is only a black void. This man looks every bit the wretch, especially with the swarm of flies that hover around his head.

 

[Silver Screen Fiend]

She pauses, and her lips come together, as the sorceress thinks over the information. She would have filed the matrons innate ability as something interesting, but not a priority, unless she could figure out a way to replicate it, or gain it for herself, though if that was actual shapeshifting, instead of an illusion? That could raise the value in a great degree, particularly if it was not limited to just the person in front of her. And so, she would adopt an expression of interest, before she speaks.

"I can assume the standard tests for possession or curses have been applied?" Her tone was interested, curious, but also detached and almost more professional then anything else. "Or even just magic being laid on him? I speak only of course, to try and reconcile the two pictures shown of the man, and the events surrounding him. I wonder..."

She would be tapping her right index finger on her chin.

Arleosa Starhenge looks uncomfortable. "Erm, well, we don't exactly have a cleric here in town, and the landowners haven't seen fit to hire one from Waterdeep. So, no, we haven't done such tests or cast any such spells." She pours herself a shot of bourbon and downs it, grimacing. "If you happen to have any divine insight, or know anyone who does, you'd need to speak to the Lord Warder about any such application on the convicted. Personally, I don't think what's happened to the man to be fair, but you can't deny the constabulary's desire to avoid a repeat of what happened northward. Plague is a dirty business, and we've done good so far to stay afloat of such tragedy."

 

[the fill-in]

She pauses, and her lips come together, as the sorceress thinks over the information. She would have filed the matrons innate ability as something interesting, but not a priority, unless she could figure out a way to replicate it, or gain it for herself, though if that was actual shapeshifting, instead of an illusion? That could raise the value in a great degree, particularly if it was not limited to just the person in front of her. And so, she would adopt an expression of interest, before she speaks.

"I can assume the standard tests for possession or curses have been applied?" Her tone was interested, curious, but also detached and almost more professional then anything else. "Or even just magic being laid on him? I speak only of course, to try and reconcile the two pictures shown of the man, and the events surrounding him. I wonder..."

She would be tapping her right index finger on her chin.

As the voluptuous halfling just kept quiet and hearing the dark-skinned elf and the matron talk, the story of the monk turning from a good-hearted man to a crazed individual had interested her and she felt bad for what had happened. Now, she wants to help the man as she possibly could, and teaming up with sme people here along with that girl who was talking with the guy would help a lot. And with that, she approaches the pointy-eared woman with a greeting and a smile on her face. "It's nice to meet you, elf lass. I heard you talking with the matron and I wanted to say that there is a woman right now that's hanging around in the square where the man is on my way here. Just to give you what information I have on me."

 

[pods6827]

"If the man's madness is the result of a disease or poison," Roland mused as he held his mug, "Then I might be able to cure him. I have a minor talent for healing, and if nothing else then even if I failed it would help to narrow down what happened to him." The paladin hoped that he would be able to help the man, not wanting to wish the kind of madness the tavern's matron had described on even his worst enemy. If he could spare this man even a little pain through his actions then it would be worth it in his eyes.

 

[BadAnime]

These guards aren't used to seeing a young woman as beautiful as yourself in such revealing garb. They wear the rusty mail and ragged tabards of veteran guardsmen, leaning on their spears with their shields slung over their shoulders. Their eyes focus on you as smiles creep upon their faces, and one of them even whistles as you approach.

Up from the gantry one of them calls out, "good evenin', miss. Came to gawk at the prisoner, have you?" His partner chuckles and scratches his neck.

Crow Eye, though, comes to life and starts swinging the cage as he rattles the bars with his hands, his cracked lips rasping out indecipherable words. His one good eye is wild and desperate, but the other is only a black void. This man looks every bit the wretch, especially with the swarm of flies that hover around his head.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Lucretia nodded and smiled pleasantly at the guards, silently glad that she didn't have to undress or do anything else to put their guard down. "So, what can you tell?" she whispered as she gave Stormbringer a nudge in his sheath; he said he would be able to judge the man's alignment, after all, and right now that might be the best info they could possibly get, seeing as how Crow Eye's words really weren't making much sense.

 

[RPG-Girl]

She nods as the paladin speaks, before adding her own words. "I have heard of tortures that can shatter and warp the mind, and if enough time has passed it is entirely possible to condition someone to the point where they feel pain at the thought of speaking a language." She would nod however. "I know, in theory, how to check for some of the signs of possession, a rival of my house was rather fond of that sort of tactic, but I was never taught the rites by which to expel them."

She would sigh, and look to the matron. "As you are the owner of a prominent business, I would assume that you have some say in local affairs? Would it be enough to allow us to check for some signs that we are able to, if we agree to place ourselves in quarantine for some time afterwards, as a preventative measure against disease?" She would nod at the halfling, and would continue her speech.

"As it is, there is little in the way of downsides for all involved. If he is the perpetrator and deceiver, then nothing needs change, and there is confirmation. If he is as much as victim as the village, used by some other power? Then he would be the best lead to identifying the threat to yourself and taking measures to protect your lives and home.... and prevent another from being used in his place."