Session 135.2

VAE has connected.

Railock has connected.

Railock:just let me knowwhen ready

Liatai:It'll be a while.

 You have disconnected.

VAE has connected.

Railock has connected.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">All right, I think I'm ready.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Ready for notespam?

Railock:<font color="#000000">qaaaugh

Railock:<font color="#000000">waaugh I mean

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Is that a good waaaaugh or a bad waaaaugh? :B

Railock:<font color="#000000">all waaaughs are just pure awesome

GM:<font color="#000000">All right, notes from last time, to be continued. Seems to be details of some kind of... Rehabilitation experiment? Counterespionage project? The first pages are just a list of names, ranks, and dates, with notes beneath indicating pages for further reading. Twenty-four names, four of which Gamal could stand a chance at recognizing. Altonor of Iphyl is on there, the discovered Rhylinar of Claddani... There are a few names that don't have the 'of' between first and last name, like Viceth Iraestin, artillery tied to House Welvaryn (deserter)... He might also catch two Helvirahels, and might stand a vague chance of recognizing the name Pellan'zyne attached to one of them (sunscout, deserter). Sixteen of them are marked as dead, with years next to the names... 1095, 1096, or 1097.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">How tall is Gamal, just for knowledge's sake?

Railock:<font color="#000000">six feet even

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Hey. Could I see those when you're done?&quot; The half-elf leans around Gamal, trying to steal a look.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Sure&quot; he hands off each page as he finishes them, as he heads to wherever he might need to go to try and find captain mackenzie, his offices perhapse. &quot;So, what should I call you as I doubt you'd want me calling you by the name in here&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Might end up being unavoidable, but Traran Hawthorn.&quot; He falls silent reading the pages; the next set of pages are reports on Altonor of Iphyl.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I'm Gamal Junayd of the Vorel Svent, if you don't remember from the tournament&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;I remember. Hard to forget someone with your skills.&quot;

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Altonor of Iphyl, born Yondallon 7th, 1054; sunsighted cavalry soldier, captured in the aftermath of the Battle of Starkham Hill. Reports suggested that he had been riding a stolen horse, was knocked off in the fighting, and found grievously wounded among the front lines, jolted back to half-consciousness by a mass stabilizing spell he was on the very edge of. Stayed awake just long enough to surrender, then blacked out again.

Once in custody, it was noted he had an interest in mitigating conflicts between prisoners and between guards and prisoners, and was curious about surface life. Marked disdain for the Lolthian social structure and feelings of powerlessness against it were revealed upon pressed questioning. He was admitted to the program shortly after as a potentially viable candidate. The notes go on, covering two years of rehabilitation and various psychological notes, but one in particular stands out; an &quot;anomalous event&quot; in early 1096, beginning with the prisoner complaining of severe headaches, so much so that he had to keep his eyes closed to alleviate them. A medic discovered (with some alarm) that the drow's eyes were glowing silver when opened. As the prisoner was not noted to be a mage, concerns of awakening sorcery were raised, and the prisoner was subjected to a magic scan, revealing the signatures of a constant soul-scanning spell. He was swiftly transferred away from the bulk of the drow prisoners, closer to the Pelorite shrine at the fort (which greatly relieved the headaches), and a Lantern &quot;grey guard&quot; was called in as a consultant. The possibility of awakening paladinhood intrigued the project heads, and was a factor in making the decision to allow a handful of the most promising candidates parole in mid-1096. Prisoner was released alive at war's end.Liatai:<font color="#000000">To wrap up the notespam, the next few pages are on Rhylinar of Claddani.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Rhylinar of Claddani, born Garlon 11th, 1066; sunsighted scout, captured three days after the Battle of South Marraburg trying to steal food and drink from a Kellon army encampment. Evaluation of the prisoner revealed a poorly-treated arrow wound to the arm, an infected stomach wound, and a marked degree of starvation and dehydration. Prisoner was difficult and highly suspicious at first, but acquiesced to questioning once reassured of safety and commanded to eat by a female medic. He had been left for dead by his unit and wandered the charred wilderness for days, trying to find food and shelter.

As the prisoner's strength returned, he proved insatiably curious about surface life, and readily provided insights into Lolthian culture and psychology in return. High dissatisfaction with the culture, in particular its gender inequalities, led to him being earmarked as a Blacklight candidate. He was placed as a cellmate to another Blacklight candidate, Pellan'zyne of Helvirahel (before the project heads were aware of the deep emnities between House Claddani and House Helvirahel; luckily, they hit it off, due to Pellan'zyne's choice to not disclose his house name). Notes continue for the next two years, with a marked note to search this prisoner thoroughly and frequently for contraband, particularly food and sharp objects (as the prisoner reported several times feeling naked without a weapon). The prisoner was marked to have an intense interest in psychology, books, and strategy games, so an Olidammaran contact was called in. Books and discussion over strategy games were used as rewards for good behavior and progress toward rehabilitation, which he took to extremely readily. Granted parole in mid-1096. Prisoner was released alive at war's end.Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Hard to forget your skills as well. That dagger hurt.&quot; (reading line spam!)

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">caught up


 * Traran Hawthorn traces names and lines with his fingers. &quot; ... Suicide. Suicide. Smallpox. These three were moles; Vi and I caught the rustie. Waeraste, he got killed by another prisoner. Suicide, with her own shirt. &quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">afk a moment

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;... Eight of us got out alive. Just four left, nowadays. Elvezar, he just had bad luck. Couldn't regrow his hair quick enough after getting it shaved, with his case of headlice. Poor bastard got mistaken for an Orgoll during the coup and struck down without a thought. Hatchiira of Mylani. She was a sweet one. Didn't deserve to go that way. Got caught in the middle of a war between her house and House Maelaghar during the march. Vlon'dan, he caught his death of heatstroke trying to cross the desert.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;... Olor'rak was the last, and the worst. He lasted four years after the coup, then crossed a priestess.&quot; He rubs a hand over his face. &quot;... Found 'im with... I'll spare you the details. Offed himself in the middle of being transformed into a drider. Wanted to go before the transformation took his mind completely, is all I can guess.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot; ... Just the four of us, now. &quot; He goes back to reading the papers.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">ugh sorry, reason I'm staying home sick decided to remind me I'm not well

Liatai:<font color="#000000">It's okay, take your time.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Which four? I'm guessing you, and altonor...&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot; Viceth, and Pell. &quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;ah.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">how easy is it to find the captains office?


 * Traran Hawthorn huffs with subdued amusement at the last few pages. &quot; They banned me from the kitchen. Too much cutlery disappearing. &quot; =3= &quot;Prob'ly worked out for the best, anyway. Still a shitty cook.&quot; =w=; Not too hard. It takes going up a floor, though.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I'll remember to not let you cook then. It's really not that hard, yet some people still somehow manage to do things like burn pots of broth.&quot;


 * Gamal-Junayd heads up to the captains office, is there a secretary to talk to, or have to knock?


 * Traran Hawthorn snorts. &quot;Not quite that bad, thank the gods. Seen it happen, though.&quot; =3= There's a secretary, if you give me a moment to find a token.

Captain's Secretary:<font color="#000000">There's a desk just inside the door, with a man in uniform sitting behind it. A few fish swim circles in a bowl on one corner of the desk, and a small painting of a lake is propped up in a frame on the other corner. &quot;Can I help you...&quot; He takes a moment to look between you two. Squint. &quot;.... Gentlemen?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">=3=; Humans...

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Yes, I would like to see Captain MacKenzie please, would this be possible, or would we need an appointment?&quot;

Captain's Secretary:<font color="#000000">&quot;If you can wait about ten minutes, we should be able to squeeze you in. He's talking with a squad leader from Snowgate right now.&quot;

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Owgh. Sorry, could we pause for about twenty minutes? My own sick is catching up with me. ^^;;;

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Wanna wait for the meds to kick in.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">sure

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;My thanks, we can wait.&quot; looks around for chairs and if any sits


 * VAE amused at the suicides

VAE:<font color="#000000">Involuntary suicide is a very Slovak thing as well as drow one. We had a self-kidnapping, too x3

VAE:<font color="#000000">also

VAE:<font color="#000000">Admiral Villeneuve, disastrous French commander at Trafalgar, who &quot;committed suicide&quot;. His method seems rather suspect. According to the official verdict, he first stabbed himself in the heart, then stabbed himself in the left lung six times.


 * Liatai pops in briefly.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Wasn't so much involuntary suicide. There were nine suicides among the Blacklight candidates during their stay in Fort Winterhold; drow who either couldn't live with the guilt of their deeds, couldn't live with the fear of what awaited them outside of the fort and of Lolth, or just plain had psychotic breakdowns.

VAE:<font color="#000000">At least one of them sounded, from Rhy's words like one

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Four candidates were killed either by fellow prisoners or that one poor soul who caught smallpox and wasn't strong enough to fight it off.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Three were moles, reporting on the project to Lolthian factions, and were executed.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">If my math's right, that leaves eight survivors out of the 24 participants.

VAE:<font color="#000000">yep

VAE:<font color="#000000">I just conflated the moles with those killed by fellows I suspect.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">... That said, I'm not sure how one would commit suicide with their own shirt, but I do suspect that belts and shoelaces were denied to Blacklight candidates if only because of that high suicide rate. ^^;

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Owwwf. Frack. C'mon, Tylenol, work. =3=;

VAE:<font color="#000000">well, you can rip the shirt into belts of cloth then make a &quot;rope&quot; with them

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">I'm gonna take a nap. text me if oyu get well enough to continue

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">I should hopefully hear that


 * Liatai blinks awake.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Gah. Sorry. When the pain meds kicked in they brought a wave of sleep. ^^; Rest well. We'll pick up whenever you wake up. (Besides, my phone's out of juice. &gt;.&gt;; )

VAE:<font color="#000000">Happens at times, no bad

VAE:<font color="#000000">Hell, I have outslept my own games when department work got bad, remember?

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Mmhmm. ^^;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">hello

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Hallo.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Did you get some good rest? :3

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">a bit. never enough

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">Seems like an awful long time we've been waiting here. *brick'd*

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">its all your fault. aren't longer lived races supposed to be more patient?

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">Drow. Time spent waiting is time somebody else could be using to get the upper hand on you. &gt;:P

Captain's Secretary:<font color="#000000">Eventually, an armored woman leaves, and after a few minutes, the secretary lets you in.

Scarred Old Wolf:<font color="#000000">The captain's huge, scarred wolf yawns from the floor, watching the two of you as you enter.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">to secretary &quot;My thanks&quot;

Captain's Secretary:<font color="#000000">&quot;You're welcome.&quot; He goes back to watching his fish.


 * Traran Hawthorn edges to the side of the doorway farther away from the wolf. &gt;.&gt;;


 * Gamal-Junayd nods to the wolf, and then to the captain. &quot;Excuse me sir, but I'd like to talk to you about something related to Altonor. &quot; is there anyone else in the room after door closes?

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">The captain looks up from the map he'd been studying. &quot;Aha, Sir Gamal-Junayd. Is there a problem?&quot; No one aside from the half-elf, the captain, and the wolf.


 * Scarred Old Wolf is watching the newcomer suspiciously from his napping position, while said newcomer seems to be edging toward a nearby shelf on the other side of the room. &gt;.&gt;; Nice wolf... good doggie...

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Well, was passing the the prison, is someone who seeks to see Altonor. But..he won't remove his magic hat, for well, being not just a friend of altonors, but apparently also part of the blacklight project.&quot; he hands the pages over to the captain &quot;After speaking with altonor, and cross checking a few questions here with him, I believe he is the Rhylinar mentioned in the notes that Altonor told us to look up in the archive. I do not believe he means harm, but, well, I'm sure you can see where he wouldn't like to be walkign around without his hat, with everyone on edge. I was hoping that you mght have a solution to this predicament.&quot;


 * Captain Henry Mackenzie raises his brows, taking the papers. He looks them over. &quot;... Great Scott.&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;I knew of a Blacklight Project that had been declassified from some point in the Underdark War, but this...&quot; He looks up at Gamal. &quot;You say these came from our own archives?&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;And that someone is here claiming to be a survivor of the project to see our current drow prisoner?&quot; He strokes his moustache, looking the papers over again.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Yes. Altonor told me to look it up, using his name under war prisoner records, and the initials our friend here gave me. And that's what came up. I recognize at least one more name on there, as another who fought alongside us at yoriver, Viceth.&quot;

Scarred Old Wolf:<font color="#000000">The wolf sniffs the air in your general direction, but doesn't seem bothered enough to actually stand up to do so. =3=

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Someone who, after I defeated them dring a tournament on tricksters feast...swept off his hat and appeared as drow before vanishing. Thus I believe him when he answers strange questions given to me by Altonor to confirm his identity. And I'm sure, it being just you, and with that information in front of you, he would show his true form to. But altonor alone aleady makes them nervous. Also, there was apparently an entire book on this subject, and the archivist has set it aside should we need accessing it for more.&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Indubitably we shall. Something like this would make excellent backing for his case. Smashing detective work, Gamal-Junayd!&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">Goooood wolf. Just stay right there. &gt;.&gt;;

Scarred Old Wolf:<font color="#000000">... Maybe. =3=

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;...Rhylinar? Would you consider taking your hat off in front of the captain here?&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Where is this someone, now? And you say that you met a second survivor in Yoriver? After all these years... incredible. How many more could we be expecting to crawl from the woodwork?&quot; His mustache twicthes. :3c &quot;I see... eight here with unmarked fates?&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn clears his throat a bit. &quot;... Four, nowadays. Far be it from me to suggest things to one of your status, sir, but we'd thank you to keep the knowledge discrete. There are a lot of factions that would gladly drop that number to zero.&quot; He hesitates a moment, but reaches up and does take off the hat.


 * Captain Henry Mackenzie blinks in surprise. &quot;... Well, now. That certainly does explain the matter about the hat you spoke of.&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Any inkling of how many more we may be expecting? Better to take care of this all in one swoop.&quot;

Rhylinar:<font color="#000000">&quot;All goes well? Just me. At least, until Lorellon, but I imagine that's a fair bit out of your jurisdiction, Captain.&quot;

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Hmm, quite so, quite so.&quot; He muses over the papers for a while more, then takes out a piece of parchment and begins to write. &quot;My word. I never thought I would see in my own office a veteran of a centuries-old war from the enemy side, much less having another one in my care. Fascinating. It would be smashing to chat later, though I suspect you're rather eager to see your friend. Here you are. You'll still need to surrender all magic items and weapons aside from the hat, of course.&quot;

Rhylinar:<font color="#000000">&quot;I wouldn't expect anything else, sir.&quot; The drow takes the paper with an appreciative nod, slipping the hat back on afterward.

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Well, now that that's sorted. Is there anything else I can help you gentlemen with?&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">((sorry, had someone come to the door catching up)

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I don't think so sir, I think we should go and let Rhylinar here see Altonor as soon as possible.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Shall we?&quot; he looks to rhylinary

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;If we may. Thank you for your time, sir.&quot; The elf nods respectfully.

Captain Henry Mackenzie:<font color="#000000">&quot;Of course. Come back any time, both of you. This is most intriguing... &quot;


 * Gamal-Junayd bows, and heads out, with rhy in tow


 * Traran Hawthorn adjusts his coat collar on the way out. &quot; Didn't think they kept those things inside. &quot; &gt;.&gt;;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Were you that frightened of it?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Hey, you find yourself with their teeth snapping at your face a few times, you develop a healthy respect for 'em. From a distance.&quot; =w=;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Theres times to realize they simply aren't a threat though. He wouldn't have it in his office if it would attack without command or threat.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;It's bigger than a gods-damned horse.&quot; =3=;;;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;So, still smaller than the purple worms we faced in yoriver.&quot; ::chuckles:: &quot;And Roy still went and punched it with his bare hands&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Roy?&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Roy Stanford, the lieutenant of the mace that hadn't been corrupted. Couldn't stand the braxtons being there either, they loved to give him headaches almost as much as they tried chasing aftor altonor.&quot;

VAE:<font color="#000000">Braxtons: &quot;He reciprocated in more than equal measure&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Ah, right, him. And let me guess, the worm went and ate him as soon as it got its head around.&quot; =3=

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Well it tried to. It got him in it's mouth, but didn't exactly have time to even swallow before it was dead.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Lucky guy. Takes a special kind of insanity to charge into battle against something that much bigger than you with nothing but your fists.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;No doubt. so, lets head on down.&quot; (okay. people are arriving for in person game. so need to cut it off. we'll have to finish with the altonor/rhy talk later)

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Sure thing. Doesn't even need to be played out if Gamal wouldn't come along; if he would, we could.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">oh he'd want to

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">he needs all the info he can get

VAE:<font color="#000000">holy bast, all the logs for me to deal with

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">okay shutting down then. continue perhaps tomorrow before game?

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">or heck, maybe later tonight.

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Fair enough. :3

Liatai:<font color="#000000">... augh I still need to make that castle. =3=;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">just can't run two servers at once and this is the comp they run the server off of to connect to with the lan

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">have fun mink moding!

VAE:<font color="#000000">I can run a server for ya

<font color="#0000ff">Railock is disconnected.

</i> You have disconnected.

</i><font color="#0000ff">Railock has connected.

</i>Railock:<font color="#000000">I'm ready when you are

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Sure. No need to rush, though.&quot; He stretches a bit before looking at Gamal with a half-smirk. &quot;Color me curious. You're something of a mystery. Not particularly involved of politics of any kind, nor studied in history, so you're not in it for the record-keeping or any notion of political or historical debt. What's got you so invested in these renegade relics?&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Renegade relics? you mean yourself and Altonor?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;No, I mean those flagstones over there. Made from dead mimics, never trust 'em.&quot; The sarcasm doesn't require a Sense Motive check. =w=


 * Gamal-Junayd chuckles

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Why not? Altonor helped a lot of people up in yoriver, us, the town...and how does that bastard of a gnome repay him? By seeking his arrest. Hell, Miron wasn't even there for any other reason than the devil's pawn brought him there to deal with altonor. Moment he appeared out of a teleport, he was blasting us all just to get him. Not to mention his oh so 'convient' excuse of blasting the gate AND masabel when altonor was on his horse flying above it. It was only right that someone come and help him get out of this. The others have other issues to deal with, So we couldn't all go so..I decided it would be me to come and help.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn nods, listening. &quot;... You know, this isn't going to be -- wait, back up a moment. He attacked Masabel?&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;He used this spell, made the ground erupt. While sure, most of it was on the gate, he placed it so Masabel was just on the edge, instead of moving it over to where no one was standing. It was a spell that didn't go high in the air, could of been under Altonor's mount no problem, but he aimed it so she was hit. not that far from me...almost dropped her. The little shit probably thought if he couldn't hit his target, he'd target someone close to him.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn rubs the bridge of his nose, mumbling something in Elven. &quot;... Least she's still alive. Gotta look on the bright side of these things.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Yeah. I think if the little shit had managed to kill her, the truce we'd agreed on to deal with the devils first and not each other would of broken down then and there. He wouldn't of left that duergar fortress&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Lucky on all sides, really.&quot; Just about back to the desk now. The receptionist and guards are watching the two of you.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">just to refresh, he gave us something for the receptionist, letter/order right?

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">Yep, which the elven fellow hands over to the receptionist. She looks it over.


 * Gamal-Junayd puts all his magic items down, looks at rhy to see if he puts any down

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">&quot;You'll still need to remove all your magic items and weapons.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Of course.&quot; And he proceeds to take out... a whole bunch of knives. A bag, some armor, gloves, some other various miscellany...

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">He starts to walk on, before the receptionist clears her throat and points pointedly at his boots.

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Oh, come on. They're just elven.&quot; =w=#

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">&quot;Sir, rules are rules.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Should of worn different boots.&quot; said while chuckling


 * Traran Hawthorn sighs, and relents, standing on one leg for a moment to fiddle with something on the bottom of his right boot. K-chak -- good gravy is that another knife blade poking out of the toe. =3=; A bit of wiggling and fiddling disconnects the blade, and he clatters that one down on the table, too. =w=

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Just elven eh?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Elves can be practical.&quot; =3=

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">&quot;.... Any other hidden knives?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Think that's all of 'em, yep.&quot; &#171; &#160;1d20+20 = 7 + 20 = 27&#160; <font color="#000000">&#187; Bluff for lulz.

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">&#171; &#160;1d20+9 = 11 + 9 = 20&#160; <font color="#000000">&#187;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Hope so. If they find any more on you they might start doing pat downs...&quot;

Receptionist:<font color="#000000">&quot;.... Very well. Proceed.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;No need to get frisky, I'm about 99 percent sure I got them all...&quot; |P


 * Receptionist sets two guards to follow anyway.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;After reading your file, That leaves me with no confidence at all you know.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Come on, that was more than a century ago.&quot; He chuckles.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;So you've had plenty of time to practice hiding things better.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Touche. You know, come to think of it, I'm surprised at one thing. Did they give you any hard times coming in with your face covered up like that?&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Nope. it's not magical. Probably also helped I arrived with Captain Mackenzie and Altonor via teleport directly from yoriver&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Figures. Talk about low security.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Any actual assassin worth their salt wouldn't come within a mile of this place without slapping Nystul's all over their stuff.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I would of taken it off if they asked, but I tend to not like ruining peoples appetites.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;See, and I try that excuse and they sic the guards on me. Mage-dazzled, the lot of 'em.&quot; =3=

Altonor:<font color="#000000">And the cell's come into view by now.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Perhaps&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn speeds up for the last few steps, after catching sight of the prisoner. &quot;Altonor,&quot; he starts, and follows it up with a phrase in a language you're not familiar with, but you have the feeling there are some vulgarities involved by the smirk on the prisoner's face.

Altonor:<font color="#000000">He dons a mock-innocent look, replying in the same language, which just gets a sigh from the other one and crossed arms, followed by a question. They continue talking in that language for some time, having what seems like a casual conversation.


 * Gamal-Junayd leans agaisnt a wall

Guard 1:<font color="#000000">The guards look at each other a moment. &quot; You have any idea what they're talking about? &quot;

Guard 2:<font color="#000000">&quot; I don't even know what language that is. Go see if you can't grab an interpreter. &quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;You might want to start speaking common before you freak the guards out.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn looks aside to Gamal, raises an eyebrow, smirks, and asks something in Undercommon. |3

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;You're lucky I don't feel like freaking them out any more, monkey, else I'd smack you upside the head for that.&quot; &gt;:P &quot;Least you're feeling personable enough to joke.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Ah, well, you know, if you can't laugh, you've lost.&quot;


 * Altonor huffs. &quot;... So, level with me, just how much trouble did they give you.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot; Three hours. &quot; =w=# &quot;And that's not counting the time it took for Mr. Junayd here to help.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;you were arguing with her for three hours? I'm suprised she hadn't already kicked you out.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;The first time I came up, they told me he was trancing and said to wait, so I did.&quot; He gives Altonor a pointed look.


 * Altonor doesn't seem perturbed. =3=

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;You know if we'd done this my way...&quot;

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;Nothing would've changed. Necessary evil.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn rubs the bridge of his nose. &quot;And I thought I was supposed to be the scheming bastard.&quot;

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;Deal with it.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;... Right. So, I'll see you tomorrow.&quot;

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;Sure. Make sure they give you back whatever permission slip thing they gave you.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn waves offhandedly. &quot;I know. I'm not twenty.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;True, wouldn't want to have to bother the captain every day.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;You know, they even tried to take my boots. Some security.&quot;

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;It was the knife, wasn't it.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Not even a single dispel check for Nystul's...&quot; He shakes his head, turning to go.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I'm sure they'll have it by tomorrow.&quot;


 * Gamal-Junayd looks at the guard who took notes last time.

Altonor:<font color="#000000">&quot;Tell the squeaker I'm sorry for missing the ride.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Right, sure. See ya.&quot;

Guard 2:<font color="#000000">Still taking notes.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">at rhylinar &quot;Happier now?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">Back they lead you, the half-elf's expression sinking deeper into a frown the farther away from the cell you get. -- Until Gamal says that, and a smile returns. &quot;Well, good to see him alive. Better conditions than I thought they'd have him in, too.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;I don't think Captain Mackenzie is out for his blood. I'm pretty sure I think he got the feeling that if altonor hasn't agreed on this, every single one of us in yoriver that wasn't from braxton, would of fought for him, we knew who was there being a ero, and who was there at the behest of the devils traitor pawns &quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn doesn't respond, keeping his hands in his pockets as he walks.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;The yoriver mace, the kordite, pelorite, and olidimarrans, Masabel, The rest of us guardians, Tomiko...we were all vouching for him. And some are working to see if they can dig anything up to help, Probably would of been all, but nobody told the kordites, at least while altonor was still there. Feared they'd ignore his wish to settle this legally and rise up then and there.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn remains silent, but nods.

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;So, I'm guessing you'll be in the area for all of this?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Hard to say.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Will you let me know if you leave? I plan on trying to help organize his legal defense, and ny information that might help could always be of use if oyu find any.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;If I find anything you should know, I'll let you know.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;Okay, I'll try to do my best to keep you updated. I plan on aquireing an item to let me send messages to everyone, try and keep everyone updated.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Mm. Good plan.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;WEll, I'm sure if you want to talk anymore, you can find me. I'm often found down in the kitchens helping out as a way to pass time.&quot;


 * Traran Hawthorn is silent for a little while longer... then rubs his chin. &quot; Wonder if they ever lifted that ban. &quot; =3=c

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;On you entering the kitchen? More likely question is would they need to keep it up. Don't you have enough sharp things?&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Hah, never.&quot; :P Back to picking up magic items and weaponry. &quot;... Right, I'll see you around.&quot;

Traran Hawthorn:<font color="#000000">&quot;Thanks for your help today.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">&quot;No problem, glad to help.&quot;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">so, pick up items and I think that's done for now

Liatai:<font color="#000000">Yep. And now... sleep. ^^;

Gamal-Junayd :<font color="#000000">aww. we can't rail at you about the benifits of pathfinder? :P just kidding. night

<font color="#0000ff">Railock is disconnected.

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