Chatlog 5

Constable Pardesh heads over to direct his men. Ogwu Onu and Markas are left alone, with the rest of the party dispersed.
Ogwu Onu: Markas, shall we go get our payment from the mayor or…plan of action?
The party currently stands at the pyre grounds, numerous wounded are being taken care of by guards, bloody chunks of rats strewn about the area. The pyre burns strongly, and smoldering grass is the only thing left where the undead once lay.
Markas scratches his beard “We do not have long before sundown, but I would much rather have the support of the guard for this.”
Ogwu Onu frowns and scratches his bum. “Money will do that. Let us go see the mayor then.”
Ogwu Onu: I mean, there is little we can do here.
Markas: You are right….
Ogwu Onu: Black magic, necromancery, rats, horses.
Markas looks over at the smoldering grass “Hold that thought.”
Markas inspects the spot where the undead was
Ogwu Onu looks at Markas.
Ogwu Onu: What?
Markas gestures to the patch of grass “The body is completely gone without a trace.”
Ogwu Onu: What body?
Ogwu Onu: The invisible man?
Markas: The undead that attacked us.
Ogwu Onu walks over to where Markas is. “What do you mean?”
Markas: Theres no trail, no bones, nothing. Its like it vanished into thin air.
Ogwu Onu looks blankly at the ground.
Ogwu Onu: I hate this city. After this, you want fortune? We go back to Talashar, fight the snake men, loot temples. It is easy to track the snake men. Fat bodies through the tall grass. None of this… sneak-poofery-zombie-things.
Ogwu Onu huffs. “I am really disliking this. And I dislike graveyards in general.”
Markas smiles wearily “I care not where I go, but that is another matter entirely. Come, let us get out pay and head to the tavern.”
Ogwu Onu: Yes, payment and guard-talkery. Speak with Keyghan and Pardesh and deal with that skulky strange man in the room.
Ogwu Onu mumbles under his breath. “Provided it didn’t sneak away.”
Markas: I do not think it was going anywhere.
Markas begins heading to the exit of the graveyard
Ogwu Onu follows after. “I’m just saying, practicality dictates that we should’ve broken a hand or an arm.”
Markas: It was bound and clubbed unconscious. Plus if it has woken since we left, it would have to get through a room filled with very drunk men.
Ogwu Onu: Well… they certainly would be drunk.
Markas chuckles “You most certainly made sure of that.”


As the duo heads south to city hall, the notice that the streets are agitated, clusters of people angrily talking amongst themselves. Once there, they find the gates surrounding the city hall compound closed, with a series of guards attempting to keep the peace against a few dozen belligerent townsfolk.


Markas: I think they are mad about the rats.
Ogwu Onu: I would be too, I dislike rats.
Ogwu Onu: ...I have an idea.
Markas: Oh?
“Back! Back! Keep Calm! The body will be found” The guards calls.
Markas: Oh right, the body. Turin and Jeb went chasing after that did they not?
Ogwu Onu (hushed tones): We could tell them about the culprits. Pin it on our bound man.. but that would cause a mob. I say we inform them that Pardesh has it under control and we have a suspect in custody.
Ogwu Onu: Of course, if Pardesh was here, that’d be easier.
The crowd curses and spits, not placated by the guard’s words. They blame the guard for incompetence and demand someone be held accountable.
Crowd: Useless!
Crowd: Let us pass!
Markas: Hrmm….This seems like a tad much trouble over a dead man.
Ogwu Onu: Ahem… Markas, you may wish to plug your earholes.
Markas: What? What are you going to do?
Ogwu Onu: I am going to yell at them.
Ogwu Onu: Loudly.
Ogwu Onu: And possibly like a mad man.
Markas: This is pointless, we can just come back after. The crowd will have dispersed by then.
Ogwu Onu: Or… We could pull a feign.
Ogwu Onu takes off his head-wrapping and begins to wrap it around his face. Concealing all but his eyes.
Markas gives Ogwu an odd look then glances around “This seems like a bad idea….What do you need me to do?”
The crowd and guard pay the party little attention, occupied as they are. More people trickle in all the time, the crowd steadily growing more agitated.
Ogwu Onu: ...Well, you bash me in the back of the head with a stick and tell the crowd you’ve caught a conspirator. And then you demand passage so I can be interrogated by the guard and the mayor… Then I change clothing, we regroup at the Morkoth…
Ogwu Onu grumbles. “It is a terrible feign. But angry crowds just want someone to pay.”
Markas (whispering): Sorry about this
Ogwu Onu stumbles forward and lands face-first in the dirt.
Markas bashes Ogwu over the head and grabs hims by the collar “Look! Here is one of the conspirators! Make way, make way! Get out of the way you fool! He must be taken to see the mayor! Guards, let me pass, and we can interrogate this menace!”
The people closest to Markas and his captive turn and and glare, exploding in anger. They rush towards the pair.
Crowd: Bastard! Give him to us!
Markas: GET BACK YOU FOOLS, HE IS TAINTED BY FOUL NECROMANCY!!
The crowd hesitates long enough for a pair of guards grab Ogwu Onu by the hands and legs while a third ushers Markas through the gate, closing it behind them as the rest keep the crowd away.
Markas: My thanks guardsmen, we can drop this farce now.
Guard: Are you mad bringing him here?! Quickly get inside.
Ogwu Onu wheezes slowly. “I hate my plans. We only do the bad ones.”
Markas: We had to take a slightly drastic measure to get inside, but fear not. We are under the employment of the mayor.
Growing more bold with a target for their hate, the crowd moves closer to the gate, trying to get past the guards. A few hands pass through the bars and grab at Ogwu Onu’s clothing.
Markas: Time to go I think.
Guard looks confused but turns to the other.
Guard: No time for this, get him out of sight!
Markas nods and grabs Ogwu “Can you walk?”
The pair of guards carry Ogwu Onu inside of the town hall proper, the other pushing Markas in the back to hurry him along inside.
Once inside, the pair are taken to a side room. Ogwu Onu is dropped to the floor, and a guards starts to get a rope to bind him. Another turns to Markas.
Guard: You’d best explain yourself and quick.
Ogwu Onu: Pardesh…ow. We have the suspect…Ow. We need to speak to the mayor—-OW. Markas.
Ogwu Onu grumbles and sputters. “Markas.”
Markas: We were hired by the mayor to help assist your fellows guarding the funeral procession.
Ogwu Onu: When I said BASH, I meant tap. Like tap on a door.
Ogwu Onu breaths deep. “I can feel my teeth ringing.”
Markas looks apologetically at Ogwu then back to the guard
Guard looks unconvinced.
Guard: You two?
Ogwu Onu: I assure you, our Knight friend Turin and the oaf Jeb are much better at impression making.
Ogwu Onu coughs. “Good impression making.”
Markas: Yes, as well as two of our companions. Again I apologise for the poor play, but it seemed like the only way to get through the crowd.
Guard ponders this then looks to a guard currently passing in the hallway.
Guard: Sergor, you were at the procession. You recognize these two?
Sergor steps in, looking the two over. He pauses a moment.
Sergor: Yeah they were there. Was four of them. Adventurers. They had a letter from city hall and everything.
Sergor finally says, continuing on his way.
Guard sighs.
Guard: Untie him.
The other two guards do so, freeing Ogwu Onu from his bonds.
Markas lets his breath go
Ogwu Onu wiggles a little and rips off his face wrap. “It is hard to breath with this on.”
Guard: So now, what in the hells are you doing here? Can’t you see we have our hands full?
Ogwu Onu: We’re here to negotiate your pay bonuses and then remeet with Pardesh to speak to our suspect in custody.
Guard: Pay? The city’s near to rioting and… wait suspect? You found someone?
Markas nods “Though, this is not where we agreed to meet Mr. Pardesh.”
Guard starts, indignant.
Ogwu Onu: We need the pay to—-er, yes. We have a suspect, one who has kidnapped the children and such. We are also here to get our payment from the mayor and redistribute it to the guard to better arm themselves for what is to come.
Ogwu Onu flashes a smile. “Can you please take us to the mayor now?”
The guards in the room look to eachother, more confused than anything.
Ogwu Onu blinks each eye separately. “I am speaking their language right? I did not slip into Chultan, did I?”
Markas shakes his head
Guard: Alright, look, we’ll take you to the Vice-Mayor, then you hurry and get out of here to see the Constable. Whatever he has planned, don’t you keep him waiting.
Markas: Thank you for being understand. I pray the situation grows under control.
Ogwu Onu: And hey! They think you have one of the culprits, so perhaps this helped. Maybe.
Ogwu Onu coughs. “Or you can take comfort that I am in pain. Whatever makes you less angry.”
Markas: I did not mean to hit you that hard…
Guard does not seem convinced, grumbling.
Ogwu Onu: I am happy that it was not a boat oar. You never want to hear a boat oar snap over a head.
The two are quickly ushered farther into the building, walking along a soft purple carpet and crossing past a large set of double doors. There, a thin man courtier’s clothing has a rather animated discussion with a pair of people.
Vice-Mayor: What is this? There’s no time for… who are these two?
Vice-Mayor asks, wiping his forehead with a kerchief. He seems beside himself.
Ogwu Onu: I am Ogwu Onu, we are companions of the oaf Jeb and the Knight Turin. And the crazy horse lady.
Markas bows “Markas and Ogwu, two of the adventurers you hired. We are Turin and Jeb’s companions your lordship.”
Vice-Mayor: Who? Oh yes, yes the adventurers. What is this about?
Vice-Mayor starts pacing, glancing at the two.
Ogwu Onu: We require payment for the job we took at the graveyard. We performed to the best of our abilities, the Captain refused a more tactical plan, and we worked accordingly.
Vice-Mayor: What? Now? How did you even get in here?
Ogwu Onu: We pulled, how you say, the fastest of all them all.
Vice-Mayor continues pacing and mumbles to himself, deep in thought.
Ogwu Onu grins. “I got bashed on the head and we lied our way in. Like Adventurers are wont to do.”
Markas coughs embarrassedly “An overtly roundabout method.”
Vice-Mayor: You ask for payment? You failed! Brigands stole that madman’s corpse for gods know what reason and the city is in a panic. Why should you get a single copper? Go back out there and find that corpse.
Ogwu Onu: ...Why?
Ogwu Onu: ...Why.
Ogwu Onu looks at Markas.
Ogwu Onu: He wants to know why.
Markas shrugs “Your lordship, we guarded the corpse until it arrived at the graveyard. We have done our work.”
Ogwu Onu: Because we’ve a suspect in custody. And we’re willing to give the credit to the guard rather than to ourselves, to make your city look better. I am willing to pay the guard with my set of the gold to make them know they are respected and to calm their morale. The city is in a panic, and when your guards succumb too, where will you be, poofy-man? Surrounded by terrified masses, or with allies and guards who are trusted and loyal and who have the culprit under lock and key, as I do now?
Ogwu Onu cracks his knuckles. “So pay the money, maybe spend less on your frilly fabrics, and be happy that we are sensible people.”
Markas places a hand on Ogwu’s shoulder “Easy now friend.”
Vice-Mayor: A suspect? By Oghma, what are you even doing here?
Ogwu Onu: ...Getting our pay.
Vice-Mayor seems to take no offense, flying to his desk to retrieve some coin. He takes five bags of coin and pushes them into Ogwu Onu’s arms.
Ogwu Onu: ...Is this… How much is this?
Ogwu Onu looks at the bags in his arms. “This is many bags.”
Vice-Mayor: You have your gold now go! This disaster gets worse by the minute!
Ogwu Onu: Before I go, I require one final thing…. Clothing, or something else. The way we came in means I cannot walk out as I do now.
Markas eyes the bags “We may need to leave another way. Is there another entrance to this place?”
Vice-Mayor: Show them out the back. And close the door, I can’t think with all that noise.
Vice-Mayor looks to the guards, then to the party.
Vice-Mayor: Make haste!
Markas reaches a hand out for one of the bags “Enough for each of us I guess.”
Markas bows again to the Vice-Mayor then follows the guards out
Ogwu Onu tosses Markas two bags. “Enough for each of us, the guard, and a trip out of town if we must.”
Ogwu Onu follows after Markas.
The guards see the party out, then take them to the back of the building. They are led to a small stone doorway.
Guard: Through here.
Ogwu Onu goes through the small stone doorway.
Markas nods to the guards and follows after
The guard nods to another, who pulls on the iron handle, pulling the stone door, which opens.
Guard: Hurry.
Markas steps through the doorway
The two are pushed through the doorway, bags of gold and all. It closes behind them.
Ogwu Onu looks at his big bags of money. “That went very well.”
The two are in a relatively quiet alley, with no one around.
Markas: Convenient.
Ogwu Onu: Back to the Morkoth?
Markas: Yes, perhaps Pardesh and the others are there already,
Ogwu Onu chucks his big bags of money at Markas. “Hide these.”
Markas throws his hands up to shield himself and catches the bags “Oh, right.
Markas places them in his backpack
The party makes their way to the Drowning Morkoth, the streets filled with agitated people heading to the west and north of the city.


Passing through a quiet alley, Markas and Ogwu Onu see someone step out of an intersection, standing between them and the way forward.


Man: Greetings friends. What brings you to my side of town?
Markas: Just passing through for a drink.
The man standing before the party wears ragged clothing, no armor at all, and has shortsword at his side. His hair is sandy blonde and dirty, his eyes green and calculating.
Ogwu Onu looks at the guy and grumbles. “I’m going to bite open your neck and pull your tongue through the hole so you make a squibbly sound before you die. Get out of my way.”
Man laughs.
Man: I could use a drink too, with everything that’s going on. I don’t suppose you have a bit of coin to spare?
Markas: I’m afraid we are not looking for company.
Man: Oh? That’s a shame. I won’t keep you any longer.
Man starts to move out of the way.
Man: Oh.
Man: That’s right. There’s just the matter of the toll.
Ogwu Onu twitches.
Markas: Right, of course theres a toll.
Ogwu Onu: Have you ever hold the tale of the Julijamus?
Ogwu Onu: It is a lovely little tale. Of an ape-beast that carves itself into the bodies of children, murders their parents, and feasts on their innards before exiting and turning the child into a cannibal filled with the lusts for feasting on the dead that it must seek out its new master or succumb to madness.
Markas: Thats….quite a tale.
Ogwu Onu: ...I am going to disembowel you and wear your insides like a suit if you do not get out of my way. I will do it all WITH MY HANDS AND TEETH. There is no toll. Not a TOLL. If there is a TOLL, there is a dead man in front of me and I AM WEARING HIS ENTRAILS.
Ogwu Onu seethes with rage.
Ogwu Onu: And maybe, just maybe, a Julijamus will emerge from me and take me away from this city where your loved ones are.
Ogwu Onu: Or maybe I will stay and have a wild rumpus.
Ogwu Onu clenches and unclenches his fists in clawing motions.
Markas is slightly taken aback, then smiles “You have to excuse my friends. Its been a bad day.”
Man ’s smile fades, and he starts to say something, looking unsure. He walks back into the intersection and out of view.
Ogwu Onu: I WILL EAT THE CHILD FROM YOUR WIFE’s BELLY.
Ogwu Onu begins to bubble spit at his lips.
Markas: Time for running now I feel.
The sounds of running can be heard for a few moments.
Markas glances around “Yes, running sounds good.”
Ogwu Onu wipes his face. “Northerners and colonists. No room for proper Southern children’s stories.”
Markas: Children’s stories? Though, that may have to wait.
Ogwu Onu laughs a little. “You should hear the one about the leechman and the finch. The moral is, do not overstay your welcome or you will die horribly.”
Markas: You southerners have strange tales.
Ogwu Onu: No, they’re just better.


The party makes it to the Drowning Morkoth without further problems. Inside, the inn is packed with people in various states of distress and anger drinking and talking loudly.


Looking around through the thick crowd, you see no familiar faces at present.
Markas: I cannot see our companions.
Ogwu Onu: One of us should wait for Halpeen. The other should go make sure our drunken friend is all right.
Through the mass of people crowding at the bar, you spot on Halpeen Welvihkt, trying to placate his patrons with ale.
Markas: I suppose I will go check on our “friend”.
Markas makes his way though the crowd towards their room
Climbing to the second story, Markas makes his way to the room containing the party’s captive. The strong smell of potent alcohol assails his nostrils when the door is opened. The creature, still lays there, unconscious.
Markas checks the creature to make sure it is unresponsive
Strange Creature does not respond, it’s breathing slow and labored.
Markas exits the room and closes the door behind him
Markas heads back down to meet back up with Ogwu
Conversation at the Drowning Morkoth is loud and frantic. People are upset about the disappearance of Crimson’s body, and lay the blame squarely on the ineffective guard and the corrupt politicians.
Ogwu Onu looks at Markas and shrugs. “Is he still hung over?”
Markas: Quite.
Markas: Do you see Pardesh or the others here yet?
Waiting for Constable Pardesh to appear, the party is approached by a familiar looking robed man.
Ogwu Onu: No.
Ogwu Onu: ...Yes.
Ogwu Onu: Maybe.
Ogwu Onu: Person.
Acolyte: You’re here! Thank the Watcher.
Ogwu Onu: The who?
Markas: Helm, he means.
Acolyte frowns at Ogwu Onu, then looks around, fixing his gaze on Markas.
Acolyte: Please, I must speak with you, it’s a matter of some…
Markas raises an eyebrow “What is the problem?...”
Acolyte is nearly toppled by a drunken patron colliding with him.
Ogwu Onu: It’s always a matter of something important.
Markas tires to catch the man before he falls “What is the trouble?”
Acolyte: It is a most critical matter. Where is the rest of your group?
Acolyte nods his thanks.
Ogwu Onu: Doing heathenous things.
Ogwu Onu cracks his neck from side to side and makes a far too pleased noise. “What is the most critical matter?”
Markas: What is more critical then saving the children?
Acolyte looks around him nervously.
Acolyte: Can we.. not here. Do you have a quiet place we can talk?
Markas nods and leads the way to the room
Markas: You will have to mind our “Friend”. He is quite drunk.
Ogwu Onu: And if you tell your mistress about him, I will punch you repeatedly.
Ogwu Onu smirks a little as he walks towards the room. “Last thing we need is more fingers in the pot.”
Ruphus frowns again, looking around hoping to see more reasonable members of the party appear.
Led into the room, the Helmite Acolyte Ruphus Laro, wrinkles his nose and fixes on the strange creature.
Ruphus: What is…
Ruphus: No, forgive me.
Ogwu Onu: Don’t worry about him. He has a drinking problem.
Markas grins “Now, can you tell us the problem?”
Ruphus: We have heard you were at the funeral procession today. And that the murderer’s body was stolen.
Markas folds his arms “Yes, that is correct.”
Ruphus: High Pr.. the acting High Priestess is concerned. Sir Tercival told us of this killer he slew. Cold, showing no emotion or remorse.
Ruphus begins, clasping his hands.
Markas strokes his beard “I had heard as much. The procession was supposed to be for him, was it not?”
Ruphus nods.
Ogwu Onu: Wait, wasn’t Sir Tercival the killer?
Ogwu Onu scratches his beard. “Or…it was confusing.”
Ruphus ’s mouth hangs agape.
Markas: No, the Paladin killed the killer, then left into the jungle it seems.
Ruphus: Hold your tongue! Sir Tercival is a paladin of the Watcher, a beacon of good in this forsaken wilderness. A more upstanding man you will not find.
Ogwu Onu: Oh shut your face, I took a club to the head and you’ve been tropping around in a dress.
Ogwu Onu rubs the back of his head. “Bad day. So sorry. Or shut up. Or continue.”
Ruphus frowns, composing himself.
Markas gives an apologetic look to Ruphus “I apologise, please continue.”
Ruphus: This man, Crimson was a murderer. Dozens of people fell to his twisted whims, and yet he showed more remorse. He died without atoning for these sins.
Ruphus: Jenya… acting high priestess Jenya, forgive me… believes that should his body not be destroyed, this great evil will take root and the killer will rise as a powerful undead.
Markas looks aghast “W…Should not destroying the body be the best course of action? Oh gods….”
Ogwu Onu: Then have your paladins deal with it.
Ogwu Onu: Markas is a mace-wielder, I am a petty poisoner. We’re saving children. Is that not enough? We follow not your Watcher, shouldn’t his faithful be able to deal with this threat?
Ogwu Onu folds his arms. “Do not ask too much of us. We would if we could, but too many troubles on too few men is a cause for death.”
Markas begins pacing and muttering to himself
Markas (muttering): I let him go, I had him and I let him go…..
Ogwu Onu: ...You see the pressures and what they cause, priest?
Ruphus: The city is falling to chaos and the watcher’s faithful spread too thin. Something MUST be done or this city will face far worse than simple riots.
Markas (muttering): Why didn’t I take the shot? I could have, he was close enough, why did I save myself?
Ruphus (Concerned): ... will he…
Ruphus starts to ask, but stops.
Ogwu Onu: Acolyte, what are we?
Markas grows increasingly agitated, while continuing to mutter to himself
Ogwu Onu: Are we priests? Are we faithful? Are we chosen by the divine? We’re a few petty sellswords and the two with greater ambitions then I are not here. We will save the children, and if we survive that we will do what we can, but do not ask too much of us. Too much of me. Call in others from other churches.
Markas stops suddenly and reaches out, grabbing Ruphus by both his shoulders “PRIEST!”
Ogwu Onu takes a step back.
Ruphus backs away, eyes wide.
Markas takes a few panicked breathes in an attempt to calm down
Markas: The… at the funeral….there was an undead, it….it disappeared without a trace.
Markas breaths again, calming down slightly
Markas: There was a robed man….he turned invisible and ran away.
Ruphus: The culprit? Did you not chase him?
Markas lets his hands fall to his sides and hangs his head “I…the undead attacked me, if…if I took the shot I wouldn’t have survived.”
Markas: I chased after it was dealt with
Ogwu Onu glares at the Acolyte. “Maybe if you were there, you could’ve chased him Priest. Maybe your watcher would give you the sight to see.”
Markas scoffs but remains silent
The acolyte, surrounded and back against the wall, watches the two men with great concern before finally speaking.
Ruphus: You cannot help us.
Ruphus says, more of a statement than a question.
Markas sighs and regains his composure “We will do what we can. The children are our priority.”
Ogwu Onu: We will worry about the dead when they walk at us.
Ogwu Onu: Send for aid from other places, we are giving what we can already and it takes a toll. You should not burden us so heavily when you know us so poorly.
Ogwu Onu: Though, I will say. If you can give us our allotted sum now, we can better invest in the battle to come.
Ruphus: That is not up to me. Take your case with the high priestess, though I doubt she will receive you favorably.
Ruphus looks at the pair a moment longer then leaves without another word.
Ogwu Onu takes a breath. “No more priests. No more dealings with priests.”
Ogwu Onu: Markas, are you all right?
Markas: ....I do not see why he gave up on us…..I will be alright for now.
Ogwu Onu: He is worthless. He doesn’t care about what we have to do. He cares only for his God, not the dirty works that need doing.
Ogwu Onu sticks his head out the door and shouts at Halpeen. “Mutton and ale, Halpeen. I will tip you well. Strong ale!”
Markas: Did I say something wrong to the priest? I…I want to help, but we need to save the children tonight.”
Ogwu Onu: We have to save the children. The priest asks too much of us.
Ogwu Onu is responded to by the loud cacophony of the inn but Halpeen’s voice can be heard shouting back in the affirmative.
Ogwu Onu: He wants us to fight battles his god finds him too cowardly to fight.
Ogwu Onu: We are not Helm’s swords. We are men who have made a decent payday and are awaiting a gnome and a constable to deal with lost children. Nothing more, nothing less.
Markas sits down and places his head in his hands “Whatever may come from that…I had whoever was responsible in my sights, but let him go in favor of myself. It will be blood on my hands if this “Great evil” comes about.”
Ogwu Onu: No. It will be blood on the hands of the Captain who took a bad plot rather than a good plan. It will be on the Tercival who could not see the deed done. It will be on every other guard and panicked citizen who ran rather than fight.
Ogwu Onu takes a breath and falls to the floor, laying on the wood and grumbling.
Ogwu Onu: You saw their foolishness and acted as best you could. They have failed, we have not. In the grander scheme.
Ogwu Onu: We need food and ale and to save these children, and for Pardesh to get here already. And we have our money.
Ogwu Onu ruffles his hair. “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”
Ogwu Onu: Do not say between a woman’s legs.
Ogwu Onu: It is a given.
Ogwu Onu snickers.
Markas chuckles and looks up “I do not care where I go. As long as I…as long as I can save those in front of me, I’m content.”
Ogwu Onu: Hah. Do you know where I would go?
Markas: Besides between a womans legs?
Ogwu Onu: Of course.
Markas: Where then?
Ogwu Onu: My mother told me a story about a place called the Hordelands. No monsters, only people. You only have to worry about people gutting you and killing you. Do you know how much easier it is to poison a person than a monster?
Ogwu Onu whistles low. “You don’t have to account for scales or strange weights. Or weird blood. Or them being made of poison.”
Ogwu Onu: Well… you sometimes do, but that’s not the point.
Ogwu Onu: I’ve also heard it is like the ocean, if it was made of grass and hills.
Ogwu Onu: And that there are many loose women there.
Ogwu Onu chuckles. “So I suppose my destination would still be between a woman’s legs.”
Markas laughs “Ah…that sounds pleasant. Men are much easier to kill than Dem..Monsters.”
A knock at the door is heard, quiet at first then a bit louder.
Ogwu Onu: Or maybe back to Talashar.
Ogwu Onu gets up. “Maybe poison my mother. Could be fun.”
Ogwu Onu goes to the door and opens it an inch.
A serving girl stands there with a large platter of mutton and two mugs of frothy ale. She peers inside, curious.
Markas: Is it the food? I have worked up quite an appetite.
Ogwu Onu grabs the platter and winks at the girl. “Markas, pay the girl.”
Markas smiles and walks over to the door “Here you are, miss.”
Markas gives the girl 4 silver. “Keep the extra for yourself.”
Serving Girl takes the coin and smiles, then closes the door.
Ogwu Onu: All right. Once Pardesh gets here with Keyghen. We interrogate this thing.
Markas: Yes, let us eat while we wait then.


After a while, another knock is heard at the door.


Ogwu Onu: Who is it?
Markas has calmed down considerably
Ogwu Onu yells louder. “Who is it?”
Constable Pardesh (Muffled): Pardesh
Markas stands and opens the door
Ogwu Onu keeps eating the mutton. “Halpeen would be fool to poison me, thus I am eating. It is not a precedent. Hello Pardesh.”

Markas: I’m just happy for some food.
Constable Pardesh stands there with a pair of guards. Below, Keygan Ghelve shifts around nervously, looking worried.

Markas smiles “Hello Mr. Ghelve. Come in gentlemen, its best if we sort this out sooner rather than later.”

Ogwu Onu gets up and sucks down the rest of his ale. “Pardesh, come see the freak we caught in Keygan’s house.”

Constable Pardesh and Keygan step in, the other two guards standing guard outside.
Ogwu Onu: Did you place watch at Keygan’s shop?
Markas closes the door behind them
Constable Pardesh: Yes, I have a pair of men I can trust keeping watch over the shop.
Keygan Ghelve mutters something in gnomish, fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt.
Ogwu Onu: Good. Behold the creature.
Ogwu Onu motions his hands elaborately at the tied up monstrosity and then looks back at Ghelve.
Ogwu Onu: ...Why are his hands bound?


The constable looks surprised to see the creature, kneeling down to inspect it. Keygan jumps in surprise at seeing the thing again.
Constable Pardesh: Good gods. What is that thing?
Constable Pardesh says, thoughtful.
Markas: We do not have any idea. It came from underneath the city.
Ogwu Onu: But it can turn its skin invisible.
Constable Pardesh: And there are more of these under Keygan’s Shop?
Ogwu Onu: Also. Markas, the sack of gold?
Ogwu Onu looks at the gnome. “Yes, yes there are.”
Markas: Ah, yes
Markas take the sack out of his backpack and hands it to Ogwu
Ogwu Onu grabs a bag of gold out and holds it out to Pardesh. “For the good men of the Guard, yourself included. Distribute it as evenly as you can.”
Constable Pardesh takes the bag of gold and holds it up, judging the weight.
Constable Pardesh: Hopefully that ought to create some good feeling. Thank you.
Constable Pardesh says, grateful.
Constable Pardesh: Now, we’re pressed for time. What did you have in mind?

Ogwu Onu: Well… The children, we believe are held under Keygan’s shop. By these things. We were sort of hoping you’d help us storm the forgotten city of the gnomes, save the children, take all the credit for the case, get a promotion, and keep 25% of the wealth or loot one might find.
Ogwu Onu walks over to the creature and grabs it by the chin. “Once we interrogate it for information if possible.”
Markas nods approvingly “You guards get to look good, and we get to put an end to this.”
Constable Pardesh considers this, looking between the two men, then to Keygan. The creature itself, remains unresponsive.
Ogwu Onu: Reestablish peace and order, gain fame, save children, get money, and make Cauldron a safer place.
Constable Pardesh: That’s certainly a bold plan. I didn’t see anyone else from your group. Are they ready also?
Markas shrugs

Markas: Turin and Jeb ran off after the hears, and we have not heard from them. Cazna….is Cazna. She might already be down there for all I know.
Constable Pardesh points to the creature.
Constable Pardesh: How much of a threat are these things?
Markas pats his mace “Frail enough that a solid smack can put it down. They also have several master keys to any lock that came from Mr. Ghelve’s shop.
Ogwu Onu: So, a threat in that they can move freely. But they are easily hobbled.
Markas: Yes, but the entrance under Mr. Ghelve’s shop is the only entrance, supposedly.
Constable Pardesh: I’ll leave a man here to wait for your friends. The rest of us should head back there now.

Markas nods “This creature doesn’t look like it will awake any time soon. Lead on Constable.”
Ogwu Onu: Of course. Would it be possible for me to make a quick stop over at an armorer and get something a bit more…durable?
Ogwu Onu motions to his rather battered and torn up poncho.
Markas: Ah, and rope.
Ogwu Onu: Oh. And flour.
Ogwu Onu: We need a great deal of flour.
Constable Pardesh raises a brow at this.
Ogwu Onu: ...They can turn their flesh invisible. They cannot turn flour invisible. I should think not, anyway.
Constable Pardesh: Good thinking. Lets make this quick.
Markas follows the constable out

Chatlog 5

Lowlands Sarador