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River's Campaign

OOC
Here
Characters
Here

RushingRiver

New Member
As far as I know these are the members of this campaign; Gaelen Va'aren (Experienced Optimist), Orryna Atherly (Clarenetti), Therion (Shadeofshade), Swats-at-Light-a-Lot (Thanny), Andryn Xanatov (DreamingBlackBird), Thrag (Will). I'm sorry in advance for forgetting your characters lol

Rules:
- Try and post at least once a day, if you consistently inactive, the group may come to a collective decision to kill your character
- I will 100% screw up at some point so don't yell at meeeeee
- You may know stuff your character doesn't, so don't use that knowledge to your character's advantage if you know what I mean
- That's all for now... I might add more, but you guys don't seem to all that troublesome :P
- Let's have some fun!!

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The adventure begins in the coastline city of Seligen. You are sitting peacefully alone at a small table in Bok's Bar, when suddenly you hear a smash. Then a bang. Then an uproar of screaming and yelling. You glance over to the people sitting near you in confusion. The silent place you had been enjoying had turned to chaos within seconds. You can hear glass shattering, people arguing, and you see a halfling flip his chair in anger. All of a sudden smoke fills the air, and people start stampeding out of the bar at full speed. You rapidly gather your belongings and follow the current of panicked people. Once arriving safely outside, you cast a quick look over your shoulder to see Bok's Bar being swallowed whole by angry flames. You turn around to see a group of armed men, the Seligen City Police, standing over you. You, and the few people that were seated near you.

The sheriff surveys the area with wide eyes. He stares down to the group of -is it rude to say people?- and he threateningly asks, "What happened here?!". After meeting only silence he shouts, "Answer me now you fools. Or you will live to regret it!".
 
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Swats-at-Light-a-Lot (Swats in future title blocks)

Things were off to a great start for a female Tabaxi within the bar. An uneventful boat ride from Chult to this maritime treat of a location was perfect, free from shifty-eyed individuals and off-shore monsters. Surveying the local haunts and not stirring up trouble? Excellent. The start of entering a bar, sipping what little a copper or two can purchase? As well as could be done, until the place turned into a cacophony of yells and the writhing tongues of flame. Curses. Why didn't she choose to study magic that revolved around water rather than fire and ice?

Some flames dared to encroach the door before the Tabaxi, Swats-at-Light-a-Lot, was able to exit the premises with her rucksack, and stepping to the side where nobody would go she conjured up a frostbite spell, pointing at the flame and speaking a line of Draconic. Sheer ice covered the surrounding area and the flame sputtered out, but more was to come, so she slipped outside when the crowd was at its thinnest.

Outside was little better. People scattered before being corralled by the guards, and when she was halted too the guardsmen demanded a question answered. She hoped that others would answer before her, but she did not want the watch to hover over her head if she was associated with the rest of the rabble.

"Good . . . sir?" she voiced, but with a thick Chultic accent. She did not deal much with human, elven, or short folk, but she was clued in by a deeper voice. "Something exploded within the bar. Swats didn't see what, but there was a bang and rich smoke. Could be explosives. Could be some fuzzy-brain who flicked a still-lit pipe wad into bourbon. Swats wish she knew."
 
Orynna Atherly

It all happened rather suddenly- she had just tucked into a meat pie, a glass of pale ale in hand. One moment the atmosphere was jovial, pleasant even, only to erupt into a cacophony of noise, shouting, banging, and screaming. The patrons flooded past the door, and amidst the panic she could do little more than grab her belongings and scan the perimeter for stragglers before making her own escape. Now, just having caught her breath, the dark-haired woman found herself under the scrutiny of this town’s short-fused Sheriff, as though she were responsible for these events. There was a saying, the one with the flies and honey and vinegar- this man was apparently not familiar with the proverb.

Never should have bothered coming to this shanty town.

“Rest assured, Sheriff, I’d like to know the same.” Orryna responds sternly, straightening up as she does so. The guards are armed, ready but not posing an immediate threat. Looking over the scene before them, the half-elf comes to the glum realization she’ll have to find another place to hunker down for the night. Really a shame- before all the ruckus the bar had been practically cozy, and she’d been looking forward to drowning in her cups before dozing off into an intoxicated slumber. Didn’t even get to finish the ale, the woman wistfully notes.

She just spares a glance at the Tabaxi who speaks first, scrutinizing the lithe figure and their words for a moment. Orynna knew little of the cat-people and their ways, and so regarded this one with caution. Yet nothing the creature said immediately aroused suspicion. Thinking back to the minutes leading up to the fire, nothing peculiar comes to mind, the half-elf mulling over it a moment longer before she eyes the burning building once more. The woman remembers glass breaking- a window, maybe- then the air filled with smoke and all hell broke loose. “From my knowledge, this one speaks the truth: there was a sudden crash, a panic ensued, and the place was set aflame.” she explains, focussed on the angry officer and his associates. Was it a bomb, some conjuring of flames? If so, what was the motive behind the arson? They were troubling thoughts, but at this time there were more pressing concerns. “There’ll be plenty a time for questions, but let’s not toss out wild assumptions just yet- we’d be better putting out those flames before they spread first, yes?”

Rolls:

Perception (Observing bar prior to fire): 3+3 = 6
Persuasion: 13+3 = 16

RushingRiver RushingRiver Thanny Thanny
 
ANDRYN XANATOV

Andryn had seen danger walk into Bok's Bar before--it was, after all, a tavern, and customer diversity was one of its strong suits. From behind the counter, she'd been witness to many a tavern brawl, or diffused unsatisfied and murderous customers--but a fire? No, Andryn had never been prepared for that, nor had she expected it to befall her workplace. The fact that it all happened so suddenly didn't help matters. One moment she was serving drinks, and the next thing she knew there was chaos followed closely by smoke. Her first reaction had been to look around amidst the running crowd, to see if she could pinpoint who the firestarter was, but once the smoke began to thicken she realized that she had to get out, now, before the flames decided to worsen.

For a few moments she just stood there, watching as fire swallowed the tavern whole. Whelp, there goes my sort-of-home, she thinks, now realizing that she was jobless and homeless. Never thought I'd get unemployed in this mann--

The sudden exclamation of someone behind her promptly cuts Andryn off from her thoughts and makes her jump in surprise. Turning around, she realizes it's the Sheriff, who was addressing her and a few others she'd seen at the bar before the fire. Maybe she had even served some of them drinks at the counter? She couldn't exactly remember, not yet anyways, what with such commotion slightly disorienting her thoughts. Instead, she listens as a tabaxi and a half-elf answer the Sheriff's rather too-aggressive question. Did this man have an inside voice? "Sheriff, sir, trust me when I say that you'll get mostly the same answer out of all of us. As the lass here says, there are more pressing matters at hand--namely to put out this fire before it becomes much more of a danger to this area." she adds, taking frequent glimpses behind her to see how bad the burning was at. Hopefully there was still enough time.

"Perhaps we can...contain it, if extinguishing it entirely is not something we can do at the moment?" she adds, making some sort of closing gesture with her hands to further emphasize her point. "Do we have any spellcasters about? Anyone?"

Oh boy, she thought as she took one more look at the burning tavern.

Her boss wasn't going to be happy about this.

.
Rolls: (I fudged up, was supposed to do a separate roll for Persuasion but rolled it in the same place aaaa--)
Perception: 2 + 3 = 5
Persuasion: 19 + 5 = 23

RushingRiver RushingRiver Thanny Thanny clarinetti clarinetti
 
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"Alright folks, eyes on the prize" Gaelen shifted the cards on the table before him with practiced ease, nimble hands swapping three cards with each other as his audience's eyes followed the one he'd marked for the purpose of the game. Two men sat across the him; locals, from what he'd gathered, and already heavily into drinking when Gaelen had first offered them his little challenge. Honestly he almost felt cheap taking advantage of these men in the state they were in, but an elf had to eat.

"S'that one" One of the men declared in a slurred tone as soon as Gaelen stopped, the elf putting on an exaggerated grimace as he flipped the card over to reveal it was, in fact, the marked card. The two men laughed and cheered between themselves as Gaelen reluctantly tossed five silver pieces onto the table between them to be swept up immediately by the drunken man. A small prize to pay to give the men a false sense of security, but it would come back to him in the end.

Despite his loss, Gaelen's returned to his easy smile, chuckling along with the men. "You sir, have a keen eye" he groused as he gathered the cards back into his hands. "Third time is the charm though, isn't that what they say? C'mon fellas, let me win my dinner back" There was a moment of reluctance in the men where they seemed ready to leave with their earnings, though short-lived as the elf placed three gold pieces onto the table. "All or nothing, I'll play against both of you. And let it be known, you're leaving me on the street if I lose" He could butter them up all he wanted, but money spoke louder than words. The men settled back down, and Gaelen again spread the cards out to show the one they were following, before turning them over with a flourish. This time though, he had no intentions of losing. While the men where distracted with his showmanship, a quick hand swapped the target card with a clear one, smoothly going back through the motion of the game. Once again the man picked a card, and this time Gaelen couldn't quite stop the sly grin that tipped at the corner of his lips. "Sorry fellas, guess luck is on my side thi-"

A crash cut his words short, and within seconds of looking up to try to see what was going on smoke was filling the room and chaos broke out around him. The two drunken men crashed passed him as Gaelen tried to find the cause of what had happened, but with smoke quickly filling his lungs and flames licking up the walls, he knew better than to stay. Swiping his coins and cards off the table, the elf sprinted out along with the rest of the patrons, turning once he was outside the see the building quickly being engulfed by flames. What in the world could cause flames to get out of control that fast?

There wasn't much time for him to wonder, when a stern voice behind him caught his attention, as well as that of a few others that seemed to have been inside as well. The sight of law enforcement was never a welcome one for Gaelen, but the elf tried to play his unease off with a shrug. "How would I know, I wasn't a part of it. You can ask..." he started to say, glancing past the guards and realizing then that the two drunken patrons had already disappeared from the gathering crowd outside, presumedly not planning on paying him his earning. He cursed under his breath. "Look, I don't know. All I saw was an angry halfling and then all of a sudden" He gestured to the burning building to emphasize his point. "Shouldn't you be focusing on that?"

Rolls:
Persuasion (To convince the guards he had nothing to do with it)
19 + 2 = 21
Perception (To see if he noticed anything else before leaving)
6 + 4 = 10
Sleight of Hand (In case it matters for his card trick earlier)
5 + 7 = 12
 
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Thrag

Thrag had finally settled himself in a corner booth. Two generously poured cups of ale before him, and two very large wild turkey legs for his satisfaction. All paid for courtesy of a dwarf family a few villages back. They didn’t put up much of a fight, Thrag wasn’t greedy, only took the money he needed and went on his way.

His head lifted hearing a smash, and then a bang and then some yells. He glanced over to a halfling flipping his chair and Thrag shrugged, nothing special, just a bar fight it appeared. Perhaps if it grew more interesting he would watch the event as he enjoyed his turkey leg, but for now he decided to enjoy his meal in peace, sipping ale and eating. Commotion grew and Thrag frowned, Had these idiots never seen a bar fight before?

Smoke filled his nostrils and he glanced up, wondering what could be burning, had they overcooked some more turkey legs, he wondered if he could get them at a discounted price. But as his head turned to see the commotion, people ran all around trying to exit the bar at full speed. Flames engulfing the bar, Thrag downed his first cup of ale, and then the second. He stood with his turkey leg, throwing his bag over his shoulder and moving outside.

The bar that had just been his safe haven for the evening was now in flame, at least he still had his turkey leg. He took another bite and heard the sheriff yell at him and a small group. Thrag regarded the other answers, all just as helpless as he had, he took another meaty bite of his turkey leg, finishing it off and tossing the bone into the flames that was once Bok’s Bar. “Looks like a fire.” He said.


Rolls:

Perception: Roll 3 + 3 = 6
Persuasion: Roll 4 +0 = 4
 
Today had started so well. Therion had been on a boat for a few days getting to the coastline city of Seligen and was glad to be off it. He was unsteady on his feet when he got to land and just wanted to rest for a bit before heading to the nearest temple so he could further his studies. He had found the tavern known as Bok’s Bar, an empty table and seat and gratefully slumped down into the chair and onto the table ignoring everything just so he could get his feet back. As he felt his legs becoming more steady beneath him, there was a commotion.

Therion looked up to see people running out of the bar because of a fire. He grabbed his things, ran out with everyone else and found the town’s law enforcement coming towards the group that he was with. As he listened to the Tabaxi, the Half-Elf, the Tiefling and the Wood Elf had said their piece he stepped forward and said “My name is Terion, Cleric Of Diancecht. I’m afraid that I do not know what happened as I have just come in on a boat and was just recovering from the trip when all this happened. I can help out if there are any injuries as I am someone who, despite how young I am, knows how to heal, if you’ll let me?”

Rolls
Persuasion to state his case
(Only going to use the first roll as I didn't know how the rolls worked on this sight)
13+3=16
Persuasion for his offer
20+3=23
 
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The Sheriff peers down at the group of strangers standing before him. Finally, they speak up. A tall taxabi claims to have concluded it was an explosion of some kind, and the others in the small crowd seem to agree. These many witnesses with the same story and still, he isn't sure if he could believe them. Although, they do pose good arguments. The fire does need to be put out before it spreads to other buildings. He turns around and points toward the seven men on his left, "Get the water! I want this fire out!". The officers sprint off towards the coast, a hose and huge hand-pumps in their arms.

Gesturing to his right, four men stepped forwards. The Sheriff nods to the officers, then to the group in front of him. "Take 'em to the wagon and lock 'em up. They don't seem guilty, but I don't want nobody running off. Except you, Therion, Cleric of Diancecht. But you better not stray far". Swiftly, the men forcefully grab each "person/creature" by both arms and guides them towards a wooden chariot, with a similar structure to the image below. However, this wagon has only a tiny vent on the roof as a window, and is heavily guarded by two more cops. Two black stallions are harnessed to the shaft-ends, each equipped with metal head armor and a leather saddle, despite having no rider.

Pin on Vehicular Living


Casting a glance at the burning building behind her, Andryn spots a small silhouette sneaking around the corner of a closed restaurant across the street. In it's wake, a slip of paper dances in the air before settling underneath a large cedar bush, planted beside the street post. The street sign is hidden, but she recognizes the restaurant, The Sandy Ox. Orynna is in to much shock to notice anything out of the ordinary, besides a flaming bar being turned to ash right before her very eyes, that is...
 
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Swats

Swats the Tabaxi stiffened under the harsh gaze of the sheriff, but was gladdened by the rejoinder of the others. She kept a smile from erupting on her face. Starting this was all in an effort to save her hide, and everyone was starting to speak up in defense of themselves and her. This was good. The last thing she needed was to have word spread about a Tabaxi outlander causing trouble so soon after that . . . incident.

Her face fell inward thinking about the past, and and outward as everyone was going to be locked up anyways, just because they were standing witnesses. Swats thought about running off, disguising as someone else and lying low, but that would only attract more suspicion. Suffice it to say that dealing with this was the best way to remain unknown.

Once seized and inside the patrol wagon, she looked around alert and worried, her tail stiff and twitching. Such was her greatest tell of emotions, and she hated it. Bad tail, bad, she thought in an effort to quell the thought. Since that did not seem to work, talking would have to work. She looked up at the blazing building through the only window slit she saw, then toward the rest.

"Fine how-do-ya-do that is. Throw witnesses in a paddy when some of us, especially Swats, can help," she spoke up. "You, ah . . . all new here like Swats?"

Glancing around even more, she realised that there was a orc, or maybe a half-orc in there as well. She will have to be wary of him. Call her prejudiced, but orcs were nothing but trouble and muscles in her mind. There was also the bartender and a few others she recognised a little, but beyond that nothing significant came to mind.
 
"I'm sorry, what? I think we all made it pretty clear we had nothing to do with it" Gaelen's expression shifted from careful disinterest to trepidation at the Sheriff's orders. He barely enjoyed the thought of being around guards as it was already, he certainly wasn't ok with being locked up, specially at what of the few times he could honestly say he wasn't at fault. For the fire anyways, and hustling drunkards shouldn't even count. For a moment the elf considered sprinting off. There were six of them and four guards coming to them, he could probably slip away in the confusion. But he was in no position to have the city guard chasing after him, and his planned safe haven was currently burning to the ground before his eyes.

The moment of hesitation made his decision for him, with a guard taking hold of his arms and guiding him to the far from welcoming wagon. He struggled against the guards grip, digging his heels into the ground for a moment before soon accepting this wasn't a fight he would win, and allowing himself to be led in after the others. "Whole lot of help we'll be in here" He called out sarcastically after he was let go, shooting a dirty look over to the guard before turning to scan the interior of the wagon the best he could. Not an easy task given the dim light and crowd of other suspects.

He spared the tabaxi a quick glance as she addressed the group, allowing an amused chuckle at the question as he continued to try and find some way out of this mess, turning his attention to the door of the wagon to see if there was a means of opening it from the inside. Though perhaps he might have to wait until he had a solution in store for the guards as well "Well I don't stay long anywhere, so I guess you could say I'm new everywhere I go" He offered in response. "You really think you could figure out who's behind this?"

Rolls:
Perception
16 + 4 = 20
 
The guard smirks mockingly, but keeps silent as he guides the remaining folks inside.

Experienced Optimist Experienced Optimist Gaelen calmly observes the door of the wagon. He quickly notices that it is a fairly new wooden door, not as worn down as the rest of the interior. It would take a relatively high degree of force to burst through it, but the task is not impossible. Keeping the door tightly shut is a metal padlock, dangling outside the door, just barely visible through a loose knot in the wooden posts (a hole that was naturally created, for those who don't know). The hole is about the size of a Canadian toonie. The vent on the roof, just to the left of the door is covered in cobwebs and dust. The floor creaks a tad bit, but is sturdy nonetheless.
 
"Woah, woah, that's not necessary now isn't it--" Andryn didn't even get to finish her protest before guards started guiding them towards a wagon. Ah, crap. Taking one look at the heavily-armored lot was enough to shut her up--she knew her limits, and resisting against people more physically capable than her was one of them. Besides, it wasn't like they were going to throw them in prison, right? They did nothing wrong. An expected interrogation would see to that, right?

Right?

Hopefully the tavern's still intact enough, she muses, taking one last look at the establishment, her head coming in last as she enters the wagon and sits at the very edge, close to its door. Wait...blinking for a moment, she quickly pokes her head back out to look at Bok's Bar. Or, more specifically, the other restaurant across the street. A small shadow was slinking around its corner--a suspicious one, at that. Without pausing, Andryn reaches out a hand to the nearest guard and pats them in the shoulder, hand clanking against armor, and points to the direction of the Sandy Ox. "I don't know if you're going to believe this considering you didn't believe our first statement either, but a suspicious-looking figure just disappeared around that corner," she says, not mentioning the slip of paper that was currently hiding on a bush. Or should she? "I really suggest you get some people to check that out, sir."

Poking her head and hand back inside the wagon, she glances at the other four...folks...inside. An orcish man, a tabaxi, plus an elf-and-a-half. There was also that healer human the Sheriff didn't decide to lock up with them. Lucky bastard. "I can't say I'm new--been stuck here for six years, and it's not everyday that stuff burns down. At least not that I know of. Probably shook them and took the sense outta their heads," she answers in regards to the tabaxi's remark, tilting her head rather curiously, "I gather that you're...Swats? Perhaps it'd be good to know each other's names, considering we might be stuck here longer than we'd want to be. The name's Andryn, how about you lot?"

.Rolls
Persuasion to get the guard to check out the suspicious figure: 3+5 = 8
 
Swats (half post for now)

The Tabaxi paused for a moment before shaking her head.

"That is beyond Swat's expertise presently," she said with a sad note. "Swats more meant of capability of dousing flaming building. Hoo. Lots of -ings. How do humans speak easy? Also, Swats is traveller too, and pleased to meet Andryn and other person and other persons. Swats-at-Light-a-Lot is name given to Swats." She looked about from beneath her cowl, hating being cooped up and brought her voice to a quiet low as if talking to herself. "Walls. Bah. Shadow outside? Eh. If Swats had gear besides hairpin, Swats and rest of folks--people?--can break free and find person. Freeze lock, maybe. Swats can do that, but guards are outside and many. Hmm, what do?"
 
The inspection of the wagon quickly proved fruitless. Short of using magic or sheer brute force, he wasn’t getting out of here, and those happened to be two things the wood elf did not exactly excel in. He grumbled under his breath, eventually settling down from his searching and getting a good look at the people locked up with him. They were a varied lot too be sure, and all strangers that just happened to be caught in the wrong circumstance as much as he had. It was abundantly clear that his own skills alone weren’t going to get him out of this, and the though of just sitting back and waiting to see what happened rubbed him the wrong way, but perhaps with the help of the rest of this lot, they might just be able to clear their names.

“My name is Gaelen. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but given the circumstances, I don’t think it quite applies at the moment” Not exactly an ideal way to meet anyone really. And being stuck in a small wagon with a bunch of people was rarely a pleasure, regardless of who it was. He turned to the tabaxi, arching a brow at her words “This place is sealed pretty tight. What exactly would you need to get us outta here, Swats?”
 
Therion was glad that he could be of some help but started to worry about the people that were being taken off. It would be clear that they would not be happy being restricted and didn’t want to be treated that way. He decided to head over to the wagon and speak to them to try and see if he could keep them calm until the fire was over and all supposition was clear. As he appeared in the entrance of the wagon he said to everyone in there, “Greetings. I know that you all probably don’t like it that you’re all being restricted but please bear with it. I’m sure that when the fire is out and the investigation begins, everyone will be free to do what they want. If it helps, I will be doing my best to make sure that you all get your freedom.”

With that done, Therion went back to the Sheriff and said, “Sorry about that. I just saw some people that didn’t look happy and looked like they needed reinsurance. With that said I can only use the ‘Cure wounds’ and ‘Healing Word’ Level 1 Healing Spells and the ‘Spare The Dying’ Cantrip plus I can only cast two Level 1 Spells right now.”
 
Swats

The Tabaxi listened closely, her tail twitching with intrigue before stiffening when she saw the cleric approach. The fool! she thought in her home language. More suspicion will fall on us if they catch him doing that! However, as he spoke on, the more she thought maybe waiting was not a bad idea. If he was successful in getting them out earlier rather than later, that would be enough of a boon without having to worry about breaking out and fleeing the scene. However, how long will it take to quench the fire? An hour? Two hours? All night? The building looked quite wooden. When he left, she sighed heavily and looked back towards her fellow temporary inmates.

"Swats is uncertain about how long this might take, and Swats does not like staying put in cell for long . . . so here goes. Swats needs a hammer and chisel or an stubborn axehead, steel or better. A strong person to swing the hammer or axehead will work too. Group can open a hole up to reach lock, then Swats can put hairpin to work. But that would be slow and take long, and Swats did not see lock or where it was at. Time is not a friend for this escape."

She shook her head, her tail sagging in defeated manner in her lap.

"Swats wishes she could 'Knock.' Sad to say, it is probably best for all to wait. Less fines and less suspicion, and the cleric outside does not get punished. That's why Swats thinks all should stay, or why Swats thinks Swats should stay. What does Gaelen, Andryn, and others say to that, or does all crave freedom?"
 
“Breaking out and confronting the city guard? Well meaning or not, that won’t do a damn thing- if anything it'll make you-us, look more suspicious.” she mutters under her breath, just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. They’re sitting in the wagon, stuck in tight quarters, a handful of guards standing watch over them. She’d had no intention to get involved in the conversation, but when the tabaxi and elf began scheming, well, it only seemed appropriate. Aggravating as it was (And, frankly, somewhat insulting), Orynna hadn't resisted when they were dragged off. Part of it was shock, but in hindsight it was best not to stir too much trouble. The current inconvenience wasn’t worth causing a fuss- once the fire was extinguished, it would take but a little time to get this business resolved... hopefully. Her mouth begins to open again, yet quickly snaps shut upon noting the cleric who approached. At first glance, this one looked to be a decent bloke, going out of his way to try and ease their concerns. The woman scrutinizes Therion and his words, before giving a simple nod. “Thank you- your, consideration is appreciated.”

As the man turns back towards the guards and begins speaking again in earnest, the ebony-skinned figure squints through the slats of the window, watching the Sheriff. After a few moments of carefully watching his mannerisms, she turns back, trying to discern whether his intents are indeed good and true. Half-listening to the continuing conversation, Orryna sighs- this was not how she was expecting to spend her evening. “I agree with you, Swats. Uncomfortable as it is, now might not be the best time to draw attention to ourselves.” the half-elf finally comments, turning away from the slats to look over the bunch. “Ah, excuse me for interrupting- I’m Orryna.” the woman adds after a tentative pause, expression stern but not unkind as she then addresses the tiefling. “Andryn, was it? You saw a shady fellow sneaking off once the fire started? By the by, you happen to get a good look at ‘em?”

Insight: 13+3= 16

Thanny Thanny RushingRiver RushingRiver Shadeofshade Shadeofshade Experienced Optimist Experienced Optimist
 
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Gaelen quirked a brow as he heard a familiar voice outside the wagon, the same cleric that had offered his services earlier. He honestly appreciated the well meaning offer, but a more cynical side of him barely held back a scoff at the optimistic thinking. "Yes darling, I'm sure their first priority once the fire is out will be our swift and just release. While we wait for dreams to come true though, allow me to just sit here and simmer in indignation in the meantime" he called out the small vent, leaning his head back against the wall of the wagon with a soft thud.

With the cleric gone back to help, he turned towards the tabaxi again, frowning slightly at the offered plan. "I have lockpicks and pitons on me, and I can tell you where the lock is, but I doubt anything that takes longer than a half second is going to help us much with guards posted right outside the door. It's either a surprise and sprint, or waiting and hoping for the best" He dragged out the second option as though he'd prefer being shoved back inside to the burning building, though the elf's demeanor made it clear he'd resigned himself to staying put. His attention, instead, shifted to the conversation of whatever figure the tiefling had seen. Their actual suspect most likely, out there free while they were stuck in here.
 
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As much as Andryn wanted to do something, Swats and the half-elf Orryna were right--escaping wasn't going to bode well if it meant risking the ire of the guards. Still, she pondered over their options. Surely there was something they could still do, right? Her right leg begins tapping on the wagon's wooden floor as she thinks. The door's locked, and their only connection to the outside world is a bloody tiny window. Gaelen and Swats both seemed to be capable at lockpicking, but that was going to be pointless with two guards waiting outside. Perhaps Orynna and the big scary orc could barge out once the door is unlocked? Gah, that wouldn't help. An escape attempt would just make things worse.

Unless--

The sudden voice coming from outside startled Andryn, who jumps slightly from her seat before realizing it was just the cleric. He seemed like a rather decent person, and Andryn appreciated his offer of help, but every second counted and waiting was starting to become less and less ideal for her. The shadowy figure was probably long gone by now. "I did, yeah. Didn't get a good look at them though--they just scurried off and disappeared around the corner of the Sandy Ox." she answers to Orynna's question, eyebrows furrowing as she remembers the slip of paper that's still probably stuck on a bush. "I do recall the figure dropping a piece of paper, though...I don't know if the guards have found it yet, but considering it's landed and hiding in a bush right now I'd say they have low chances."

She takes a peek through the tiny window, subtly pointing at a certain bush by the Sandy Ox. "See that signpost over there? A bush is beside it. That's the bush were talking about." she says, sighing in slight frustration, "Gah, I wish we could get over there..."

Andryn trails at the last word as her eyes land on the cleric, and an idea forms in her head. She looks away from the window and turns to face her current wagon-companions. "Is anyone here telepathic? Or can send messages to one certain person without alerting the suspicion of the guards or the Sheriff?" she juts a thumb backwards, to the general direction of the cleric...Therion, was it? "I'm thinking we can use the cleric guy to be the...go-betweener, of sorts. But he's currently talking to the Sheriff, and that's a problem."

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The talk of the shadowy figure that had already escaped their grasp seemed hardly worth discussing if they were stuck in here anyways with no way to follow. The mention of the piece of paper though had the wood elf immediately perking up. It wasn't much, in fact it was potentially absolutely pointless, but it was better than sitting around and waiting, so he'd bite. And if it could get them out of here sooner, then all the better.

Shifting over to the small air vent, Gaelen brushed the dust and cobwebs aside to peek out and try to get a glance at their only link to the outside. "Hey there, cleric. Therion was it?" He called through the vent. "Is that offer for some healing still on the table? Adrenaline is wearing off, and we go some wounds in here. I mean if they insist on locking us up, be nice if we at least weren't bleeding out. You don't even have to unlock anything, right, you got magic spells and stuff. Could you c'mere?" Not the usual subtlety he'd prefer, but short of developing telepathy, he didn't know of a way to get his attention without also garnering that of the guards keeping an eye on them. At least this way they wouldn’t be caught doing something sketchy. For now anyways.

He turned back to the crowd inside. "Alright, who wants to hurt me in case our dear sheriff friend decides to come confirm that we actually need healing?" He was gambling on the sheriff being too busy dealing with a fire to care, but the last thing they needed was to arouse more suspicion.

Rolls:
Deception to convince guards they need healing:
12 + 4 = 16
 
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Swats

The Tabaxi listened in as best as she was able. It seemed that Orryna was in agreement, but the others leaned towards escape. One even offered to get hurt so that they can lure the cleric over to the wagon again, and the Tabaxi started wading through the mounds of stuff in her rucksack before pulling out an inkpot and uncorking the top.

"Hold still, Gaelen," Swats responded, dabbing her finger with ink, pulling up his arm sleeve, and rubbing some ink onto the skin of his lower arm, just above the wrist.

What resulted was a small blotch that somewhat resembled a bruise, but was entirely one shade. That would never pass on its own, but Swats had other ideas in mind. Murmuring a spell under her breath and weaving her hand over the ink splotch, she changed the hue of several spots with blue and purple. The end result was something that definitely looked like a bruise, and she looked very proud of her work. One last touch she did was drawing forth her claws and making two scratch marks across his shirt.

"There. That might fool some, all without someone getting hurt. Swats can make more, but cleric might come at any minute. Best for Swats to look busy in the meantime. Do not worry about shirt. I can mend it."

And with that she took out some parchment and an ink pen and got to work starting to script a makeshift doctor's letter on her lap. She will need to get a seal and doctor name for it later, but it could fool some people later on and set up a background for an otherwise new individual to this town. It as a good thing she took a calligraphy class. It was a bad thing that she did not have a set of calligrapher's supplies, though.

( 1d20 + 0 for an aside quality check on forged doctor's note: )
 
A few minutes later the blazing bar was drenched in cold ocean water, and the flames sputtered out. Surrounding the area are appalled bystanders and witnesses, quietly whispering and discussing the tragedy among themselves. The stars in the sky were clouded with thick dark smoke, but the street lamps provided light... Not as much as the massive fire had, but that is definitely not a fair comparison. In the distance, the Sheriff was loudly ordering people about, and the people were quietly acknowledging his wishes.

At the tap on his shoulder, the guard jumps ever so slightly and whirls around. "A shadowy figure... Ha. It'll take more than that to keep me away. Although..." He strokes in chin thoughtfully, and murmurs quietly to himself, "The Sandy Ox... Suspicious..." Then shakes his head slowly, "As if I'd believe a fib like that. Good luck escaping" he sneers scornfully, casting a rather odd glance at the other guard. Moments later he was faced with the elf's request. Injuries? Nobody had seemed hurt when he'd escorted them inside, but who knows? Gamblers and party goers have a knack for not showing any emotion whatsoever. "Yes of course, we can't have anyone bleeding out in there can we?" "But I'm coming inside. To ummm, help out." he added hastily. He hopped inside along with the cleric, closing the door firmly behind him. He examined the crowd in front of him. An interesting bunch indeed... "So uhh, who needs help?"
 
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After Therion finished talking to the Sheriff, he heard the call for some healing aid from the Wood Elf in the wagon. Before he got past the Sheriff and entered the wagon, Therion heard what the Sheriff said, how he said it and all Therion could do was frown at the Sheriff’s delivery of his question. Putting a hand on the Sheriff’s shoulder Therion said, “Dear sir while I understand that you’re a busy man, I have to insist that you don’t use the same kind of tone that you would use with everyone else with a patent or an injured person. Unnecessary stress can lead to injuries getting worse and could potentially cause death.” He lifted his hand from the Sheriff’s shoulder, walked past him, bowing to everyone else in the wagon and then said in a gentle voice, “I am terribly sorry for that. As I have heard, someone here is injured, might I know who it is?”
 
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While he hadn't expected his companions in the wagon be jumping at the chance to stab him, Gaelen was actually surprised when Swats instead opted for a making up some fake wounds instead. He doubted anyone here was bloodthirsty enough to be looking to harm him, but he hadn't expected them to risk getting caught to spare him some pain. He had offered after all. He thanked the tabaxi for her work, hoping this would do the trick. The bruise was believable enough, and with his cloak on, they wouldn't have gotten a good enough look at his shirt to see he hand't been torn earlier. It would have to do, they didn't have time for anything else.

Cursing under his breath, Gaelen gave a scowl when the guard outside decided to come along as well. Despite the Sheriff's claim that none of them seemed guilty, all the guards seemed clearly seemed distrustful of the lot. "Oh yeah, come on in. We're not crowded in here or anything" he drawled, stepping aside when both men climbed into the wagon with the rest of them. "What are you expecting, for me to attack the poor kid who's only offered to help? Do you really think so low of me sir? You wound me"

Well at least now the cleric was in with them, all he needed to do was keep the guard’s attention on him long enough for the others to hopefully get their message across. "Seriously though, took a nasty hit getting out of that building, take a look. Not that you can actually see anything in here" He stepped closer to the vent by the door with the excuse of wanting more light, keeping his arm close to himself so the man would have come close if he wanted to inspect anything.
 
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Swats-at-Light-a-Lot

Swats glanced up at the two newcomers, restraining herself from smiling upon the "trap" being sprung. She had no idea if anybody would profit from this arrangement -- in fact, it might be that the cleric would be unable to help more people -- but either way freedom lay in the end. The burning building's flames were quickly snuffed out with the fire watch's hose waterspouts, and none that she knew of had any relative information as much as clues. They likely would all be released.

However, she wondered to herself why anyone would torch a bar. What could have prompted such arson if some shadowy figure tried to burn it down? Was it related to her, or not related at all? And if this hearsay was further explored, what was on that paper?

So much mystery -- just the way Swats liked it. If there was anything Tabaxi loved more than anything as a whole, it was the many marvels of an unexplored, at least to them, discovery. Her tail twitched excitedly at the thought of a new thing to explore, but not quite as much as other interests.

"Swats caught sight of that. Nasty flaming debris that fell and hit man before kicking it away. Gaelen not seemed burned, though, which is good. No smell of burning on clothes or burnt flesh."

Roll for Deception: 18 + 1 = 19
 

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