The Campaign Builder's Guild

[ic]His nerves flash and prickle as Mr. Nix takes in the noise, so eerily similar to the ones described.  No chains, but that gurgle....  For a moment he stands paralyzed between two competing impulses--the one to chase down the sound, and get to the bottom of this mystery, and the other to flee from the danger of the unknown, from the harsh, judgmental and cruel light of an uncaring sun for the dark and uterean refuge of his drafty, crumbling tenement.  What will we do if we catch it?  The fiery one ever works against us--it would have us at a disadvantage.  We don't like that do we?  We don't like that one bit.

Finally, he rushes down the whimpering staircase and back into the Miasma.  At least the vapor hides us from unfriendly eyes.  Another decision occurs to him: To risk calling out for the hound, or risk sneaking up on it alone. Folly.  Folly all around.  "Vex!" he cries out.  "Come!"  A decision made, now he shall have to live with it.

Nix pads along through the haze with as much speed as his stealth will allow, mouthing silent curses at himself in Hellspeak.  He keeps the buildings between himself and the hateful sun, creeping through the shadows and darting from one adumbral sanctuary to the next, always with an open ear for the gurgling sound. He stops a moment to see if the infernal hellhound is anywhere to be seen, before continuing on, on toward the Tarnish Exterior, where he heard the noise.  
[/ic]
[ooc]Stealth: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/blockquote]
Perception: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 5, total 5[/blockquote]
Agility, in case running down the rickety stairs (or something resulting from it) requires it: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 3, total 3[/blockquote]

Vex's Perception of Nix's call: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/blockquote]  If successful, Vex will follow Mr. Nix, as he is bound to do.

Might 7  Agility 10  Intellect 14/15[/ooc]

[ic]
The fugitive assassin on the roof squats, taking hold of a chimney to steady himself while he catches his breath and observes the situation down below. Better not risk a move while the streets are hot. With that many copper-heads on my tail I'd be hard pressed to avoid being spotted down there. Sooner or later they'll have to call off the manhunt. Seeing as the guards haven't thought to look for him up on the roofs so far, Xavier decides to stay on his current refuge and wait for the mass of watchmen to disperse.
[/ic]

[ooc]
He'll be staying on the roof until most of the guards have departed the block. Should he be spotted though, he'll want to take off immediately.

(I'm assuming that balancing and hiding are separate tasks and that Grit can thus be applied to each.)

Stealth roll, with one level of Grit applied:
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/blockquote]

Balance roll, with one level of Grit applied:
[blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 2, total 2[/blockquote]

Stat pools:
Might 9/10 (0), Agility 11/14 (1), Intellect 12/12 (0)
[/ooc]

[ic=Catena]Catena's ferocity catches the ghul off-guard. Her blow smashes into the vestigial head, rupturing its fontanelles in a shower of blood and neural fluid. The Ossifragrant, shrieking in hideous pain and horror, releases the ex-slave to cradle the dangling member in her claws. Pitifully, she attempts to coax the maimed face to open its eerily-closed eyes.

Behind her, Catena witnesses an equally disturbing scene. Jarrow Slake stirs. His neck, once slit, has crusted over in a frothing swarm of sanguine scarabs. His tattoos, once dim red, now glow a lurid, hungry shade. Fangs protrude from his blood-scabbed mouth, and his tongue flickers like a sensile proboscis. As he rises, his eyes bulge with madness  and rage, locking on the grief-blinded grave-spawn.

Seeing the ominous spectacle, Tlex backs away. Guin, meanwhile, continues watching with a measured gaze.[/ic]

[ooc]The Ossifragrant is stunned for 1 round, DC 3 to attack. All three of you are within immediate range of one another.[/ooc]

[ic=Hadric]The cigarillo smoke is strong, like roasted leather and sun-dried pepper. As Hadric exhales the pungent smoke from his nostrils, it rapidly expands, forming a massive cloud in mere seconds.

Within the hazy pillar, a towering ibis emerges. Its feathers are a mottled crimson, and its eyes burn like beady coals. A halo of sulphurous green flames adorns its avian head. Slowly, the feverishly hot creature turns to regard Hadric, notes the lit cigarillo in his hand, and suddenly pounces, trying to skewer the shreeva with its black-iron bill.[/ic]    

[ooc]DC 3 Agility defense of take 6 damage and catch on fire.[/ooc]

[ic]At the sight of the creature Hadric's jaw slackens, and he meekly drops the cigarillo. "Nibs! What have you done!?" he cries, throwing himself to the side, struggling to get a firm grip on his kneaf.[/ic]

[ooc]Hadric will apply one level of grit to his agility defence roll to reduce the DC by 1, costing 1 from the agility pool due to edge.

Defence: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 2, total 2[/blockquote]

He will then try to counterattack against the creature as soon as possible with his kneaf, spending 0 from might due to edge to use Thrust.

Offense: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 3, total 3[/blockquote][/ooc]

[ic=Mr. Nix]Vex follows at Mr. Nix's heels. Together, they stalk through the toxic haze, creeping ever closer to the source of the creaking, gurgling noise. It leads them out of the Tarnish, down a tortuous street strewn with flaccid clothes' lines, faded paper lanterns, and tired-eyed buskers. Turning the corner, the diabolist discovers the sound's origin.

It is a paint-chipped carriage, pulled by a six-armed cestoid. Currently stopped in front of a greasy tavern selling charred dog-meat, the carriage opens. A young boy, naked save for henna-scribed sigils and a papier mâché mask, steps out and heads to the char-house. Another much larger figure remains behind, veiled by a muslin gauze.[/ic]

[ic=Hadric]Barely evading the ibis' strike, Hadric ripostes with deadly skill. His leaf-bladed counterattack nearly disembowels the haloed beast. Yet, instead of shearing flesh or viscera, his kneaf cuts naught but smoke. The wound nevertheless causes the creature to waver and shrink, as if deflating.  

So injured, the mottled ibis shrieks, imploding into the shape of a cackling hyena. It belches a massive gout of emerald flames, attempting to incinerate both Hadric and his former familiar.[/ic]

[ooc]Agility defense roll (DC 2) or take 4 damage and catch on fire.[/ooc]

[ic]Nibs peeks out of Hadric's pack - cat-eyes widening - as Hadric twists. The motion is not smooth, not the graceful dodge of a knife-dancer, but sudden and jarring. Seeming almost to flicker, he dives towards the smoke-creature, his kneaf poised to strike it through the head.[/ic]

[ooc]Another level of grit on the dodge, reducing DC to 1, and agility pool to 11[12].

Defence: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote]

Using Thrust again on the attack.

Offence: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 5, total 5[/blockquote][/ooc]

[ic=Hadric]The air boils. Flames shoot over Hadric's head, singing his golden curls. His blade, however, cleaves the fumificating spirit's skull. Once more, the wound sprays smoke. Once more, the entity shrieks, shrinks, and deflates. This time, however, it morphs into a still smaller owl with molten claws. Immediately, it flies at Hadric's face, trying to gouge out his eyes.[/ic]

[ooc]DC 1 to dodge, DC 1 to strike. Also, please roll a DC 2 perception roll and a witchcraft roll (DC 4). Finally, please remember to post all three stats for consistency's sake. Danke.[/ooc]

[ic=Xavier]Atop his shingled perch, Xavier watches the guards as they continue their manhunt. Their persistence is remarkable, even if irksome to the assassin. Besides scouring the streets, they check the rooftops, scanning from atop a flat-roofed building. Xavier evades detection, however, ducking behind a chimney. A Watchmen even presses a chimney-sweep to search Xavier's roof, but the girl is lazy in her task and all-too easy to avoid. Eventually, the Watchmen give up on their search -or at least concentrate their vigilance in other sections of the ward.

By the time the fifth chime sounds, the streets finally resume their normal bustle. Patrols still walk the streets, but their presence is thin and sporadic. Deeming the moment has come -and all-too anxious stretch his legs and breathe non-smoke-ridden air- Xavier nimbly crosses the rooftop and half-swings, half-slides down a drainage pipe. Although stained with soot and dirt, he mingles into the middle-class crowd.[/ic]

[ic]Hadric jerks his head backwards. He lashes out haphazardly with his leaf-blade, hoping to finish it.[/ic]

[ooc]Defence: [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/blockquote]
Offence (again using thrust): [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote]
Perception (which I believe I have expertise in, assuming sight based): [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 3, total 3[/blockquote]
Witchcraft (which I definitely have expertise in): [blockquote]Rolled 1d6 : 1, total 1[/blockquote]

Pools - Might: 13/13, Agility: 11[12]/14, Intellect: 8/9[/ooc]

[ic]Catena watches the pair carefully while backing slowly away.  As surreptitiously as possible she attempts to procure one of the maiden swords from the walls while also positioning herself so that Tlex is between her and Jarrow Slake.  In the meantime she studies the room, looking for anything she might knock over onto the combatants, her eyes flitting from the stuffed, chimerical beast to the various instruments of excruciation that decorate the chamber.[/ic]

[ooc]Also trying to figure out what Slake is...  My guess is Writheling but those tattoos could be providing him with some kind of regeneration.  Could be a weird demoniac possession thing.

Perception check in case I need it for spotting something heavy and well-positioned:

This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d6 : 4, total 4[/ooc]

[ic=Hadric]The verdant blade slashes the owl in two. So rent, the shapeshifting spirit instantly sublimates into a puff of pungent smoke. Choking on the pepper-scented vapors, Hadric sees a flicker of light in his peripheral vision. Turning, the nobleman sees his threshold in flames! Sulphuric fire gnaws on the wooden lintel and once-ornate shutters.

Yet, even as he contemplates the nascent conflagration, Hadric notices the cigarillo's smoke-cloud beginning to writhe, roll, and congeal into an owl's outline. [/ic]

[ooc]You are sickened for 1 round due to breathing in the smoke.[/ooc]

[ic=Catena]So distracted, the Ossifragrant ignores Catena's motion. Tlex however, already withdrawn and wary of the albino warrior, notes her movements and swiftly backs to the wall, his blunderbuss at ready. Nonetheless unobstructed, Catena is able to retrieve one of the displayed executioner's swords, a baroque affair with seraph-tongued quillions and a quince-shaped pommel. Seeing Catena unsheathe the display, Guin arches an eyebrow but otherwise remains silent.

Yet, while Catena arms herself, Jarrow pounces on the Ossifragrant. The ghul responds in kind, and soon the pair are wrapped in a violent embrace of claws, fangs, and primal fury.[/ic]

[ooc]To identify what Jarrow is, you need to make an Intellect roll. As for your perception, you identify several of the gibbets. One issue with them is that they are not likely close enough to the combatants. The guillotine, you reckon, is too-well secured. The stuffed monstrosity is likely the best bet. It's certainly the largest -though you can't guess it's weight since its stuffing is unknown. It's also the closest to the combatants and doesn't seem to be externally anchored. The only issue is that it is on the other side of the room -and the grappled duo stand between you and it (though it's only a short distance).[/ooc]

[ic]Hadric wheezes as a puff of smoke seems to fly directly up his nose. "I'm starting to think mother and Harne-Fei didn't part on the best of terms!" he says, sputtering. He cries out as the owl begins to reform, a sound that - with a cough - turns into a hysterical laugh as he notices his house catching flame. "Nibs! Do something!" Hadric yells as he dashes over to the still-smoking cigarillo and grinds it out with his heel. Hadric swats manically at the flaming lintel with his gloved hands. It doesn't seem to be a particularly effective fire-fighting strategy. Nibs, meanwhile, has slithered over to the river's edge and dangled its head over and into the water. The snake-demon bloats rapidly, and ponderously backs itself out and starts inching towards the conflagration. Nibs' eyes bulge, water dripping from its closed mouth. The scene might be comical, if it weren't so serious.[/ic]