Pavanna Alazario |
"Do you think I don't know that? I was trying to cut them off and keep them from escaping when half-a-dozen of the damn came spilling out the doors! They were probably going to come around and stab us all in the back, then you would have yelled at me for something else I should have done!" Ping's voice is brittle like thin ice as she shouts back at Pavanna.
Pavanna Sense Motive DC 5: You get the feeling that there's more to this than the typical gnome hatred of Goblins. Ping is almost acting like she's ashamed of something.
“And if you hadn’t charged in here head-first like a Racker* after a rebel, we could come inside in a quiet and organised fashion and set up to deal with such a flanking attack on our own terms. If, say, Noro, you, and Horatio had been waiting for them around that first corner, the three of you would have ground them to dogmeat with little risk while the rest of us cleared the furnace room. And you would have had a perfect chance to kill a job-lot of goblins, in front of the adoring audience you say you wanted.”
DC5? Pavanna’s Sense Motive modifier is better than that! :P
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
Pavanna pauses for a moment, letting her tone soften just a little. “What was that about, Ping? I know that gnomes have a racial blood-feud with earfangs, but something... that berserker charge looked personal.”
* Racker: (non-canon/just-invented) Chelish slang for a Hellknight of the Order of the Rack
And now to catch up with the party as a whole...
Pavanna let Saroune help Ameiko upstairs — she may be stronger than her Varisian friend, but the wizard’s greater height makes her a far better walking-brace — and let the others go ahead of her; she lingered for a moment, heading around the corner to inspect the tunnel that Olivius found. The tracks of so many goblins are almost impossible to miss, of course, but perhaps her dark-seeing eyes might spot something he didn’t?
Survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
She stays for a few moments, checking out the tunnel’s adit and the first few yards of the drift, then heads back upstairs to re-join the others, using prestidigation to clean her sword as she re-enters the furnace room. She’s just in time to hear the words Tsuto hurls at Noro — and witness the brawler’s reaction to them.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
Pavanna’s eyes narrow into blood-red slits as she sees the distress in Noro’s bearing and tracks its cause back to the half-elf Horatio is manhandling. You may be half-elven, Tsuto Kaijitsu, but your father’s despicable disposition certainly bred true!
She takes a deep, steadying breath, then speaks with the same frosty, even precision she turned on Asuriel when they first met, the day of the Swallowtail Festival — the tone she uses when she’s struggling to control outright fury. “Olivius, why don’t you and I see this pizda to his new lodgings at the Garrison? Horatio, would you please see to it that everyone” she cuts her eyes to Noro and Ameiko for a moment “gets back to the Dragon all right? We’ll be along in short order.”
For the Infernal speakers in the party, I deliberately left ‘pizda’ untranslated, but if you can play off of it, it’s colloquially equivalent to ‘a**#*$$’. (The literal translation is far more coarse — when a Russian cusses you out, he doesn’t pull his punches. :rolleyes:)
Olivius_Telraven |
Gladly. He steps forward and heaves the bloody man to his feet wih one arm. Youall go on ahead. We'll be a few steps behind.
Sprig Wossername |
Sorry Thirzin, I missed where you were talking to Sprig.
"I guess I'm okay. T-there's just a..." Her voice trails off as she sits on Thirzin's shoulder.
Back to the Present:
Sprig looks between Noro, Tsuto and Thirzin. Her mind not comprehending why Noro suddenly seems so afraid.
Noro Kas |
I think Pavanna might be the only one right now that might be ably to connect the dots with Noro. Based on what she heard earlier
EDIT correction: it was Saroune
Asuriel Arktaros |
Asuriel steps up with Olivius. I'll go with you. I'd still like to ask him a few questions about this 'lover' of his.
Asuriel would like to re-iterate the questions above along their trip to the garrison. We can spoiler the conversations if you would like to move on Salsa.
Ping Ibbleting |
Posts are coming, I promise, may be tomorrow before I get the ball rolling again. A post from Ping, then I gotta cut grass.
In that one instant, all of the fire and anger drains from the little gnome. Her eyes fall to the ground, and she soon follows, sliding down the wall to the floor.
"Sandpoint isn't the first place I've run into goblins. It was, I dunno, about twenty years ago. I've lived in Whistledown most of my life, and it's safe there. You don't have to worry about goblins, or bandits, or thugs, or gangs. The worst that would happen is a prank going too far and someone getting a broken bone." Ping's voice is dead, flat as a sea with no wind.
"I was the second youngest of fifteen, and the second of a set of triplets. My sisters and I were inseparable, and our mother would joke that we also thought that meant we were supposed to be insufferable too. We grew up and soon found that we had a talent beyond what most gnomes could do. We didn't think much of it. It was only some minor tricks that we could use. As we grew older we started exploring the area around town. We were careful, or as careful as any gnomish child could be, and we never strayed far from home." Ping's voice darkens, and her hair and skin dull before Pavanna's eyes.
"Maybe that's why we didn't notice something was wrong before it was too late. Ting, Fling and I were ambushed by a dozen goblins barely a half-mile from town. They overpowered us and made us watch as they tortured us, one by one. Ting was first, they-- they carved the symbols of their gods into her skin then cut out her tongue. Then they took Fling, and beat her bloody before smashing her wrists. Then it was my turn, I was scared. I was so scared." Ping falls silent as tears stain her cheeks.
"They-- they pinned me down, an-an-and I don't know what they were going to do to me. I lost control. Flames colder than ice sprang from my hands as I struggled. The goblins lept back, and..."
The gnome shakes her head, pain and grief clear on her face.
"The next thing I knew, I was being carried back to town with my sisters. It took years, but eventually, we were able to save enough money as a family to restore my sisters, but there are somethings magic, or prayer, or even the gods can't fix. I can't forget how those goblins laughed as we screamed. I can't forget the sight of seeing my sisters' blood staining their clothes and the ground. Shelyn says find the beauty in all things, but there is nothing beautiful about goblins. All they want is to take beauty and rip it from the world. I can't forgive them, any of them for what they did. Not back then, and certainly not now."
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
At Pavanna's words, Horatio seems to relax slightly. The snarl slowly fades from his face, replaced by a brief expression of horror that quickly disappears, smothered by a decidedly neutral expression, his mouth a hard line.
Without a word, he hands Tsuto over to Olivius, before crouching next to Noro and carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. "Time to get out of here," he says gently, giving her shoulder a slight shake, attempting to elicit a response. Whether he gets one or not, he loops one of her arms over his shoulders, standing slowly, keeping himself stooped to account for her lesser height.
"Saroune, are you alright with Ameiko?" he asks, fighting to keep the shake of anger out of his voice. "Thirzin, Sprig, Ping - come on. I need a drink." Making sure everyone is alright to follow, as ordered, he begins the trek back to the tavern, trying to support the near-catatonic Noro as best he can.
DM-Salsa |
After Ameiko is delivered to the Dragon, and Bethana tearfully hugs her rescuers legs, and Olivius and Pavanna return after delivering a madly laughing and cursing Tsuto to the Garrison, a runner arrives with a message. There is to be an emergency meeting of the town's council this evening, and the Heroes of Sandpoint are all expected to attend.
It's not yet noon, you have about six, six and a half hours before the council meeting. Feel free to finish up anything from the Glassworks in spoilers.
Saroune Anzoletta |
Saroune would have steered Ameiko clear of the room with Tsuto, so she wouldn't have been able to make that connection, unfortunately.
Saroune delivers Ameiko to her room. "Can I get you something? I can stay, if you'd like."
Asuriel Arktaros |
DM-Salsa |
Noro Kas |
Asuriel is a walking charm person spell
Nor goes with horatio, she sees his face as she gets up. and she tries to re-apply the tough facade but its pretty clear that it really isn't working to well, at least to those present.
She leans on horatio as the return to the Dragon, appreciative of his presence.
as they reach the door, Horatio, can you at least hit me a few times, I don't want to.... she stops, thinking about what she was saying. ... nevermind
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
For the most part, Horatio says nothing during the long walk back, focusing on keeping his rage inside - rage at Tsuto, rage at Noro being reduced to a barely-responsive heap, rage at himself for not being able to manage the one thing he'd come to this backwards town for. He fumbles slightly with the door, finding his strong hand holding Noro's arm in place, and is caught off-guard by her words.
"Of course not," he says, as soon as he manages to get his head under control. "You've been beat up on enough for one week, haven't you?" He guides the brawler into the room, helping her to a chair and rolling his shoulder, glad to be free of her weight. "Now," he continues carefully, guiding his aching body into the opposite seat, "what happened there? He clearly got to you. Olivius said you had the expression of a veteran who's seen some nasty shit. I don't expect you to tell me what happened between the two of you, especially not in front of other people, and especially not if it's going to drag up memories you'd rather not relive. But it's too early for a drink, and I need to get my peace of mind somehow. So - are you alright now? You with me, now, not wherever and whenever whatever incident that was took place?" He leans back in his chair, tuning his violin as he speaks, half-occupying his mind with the ritual of tightening the tiny pegs, winding the delicate strings.
The news from the runner draws a low curse from his throat. It seems, since arriving, this town has had one emergency after another!
Asuriel Arktaros |
Pavanna Alazario |
... "The next thing I knew, I was being carried back to town with my sisters. It took years, but eventually, we were able to save enough money as a family to restore my sisters, but there are somethings magic, or prayer, or even the gods can't fix. I can't forget how those goblins laughed as we screamed. I can't forget the sight of seeing my sisters' blood staining their clothes and the ground. Shelyn says find the beauty in all things, but there is nothing beautiful about goblins. All they want is to take beauty and rip it from the world. I can't forgive them, any of them for what they did. Not back then, and certainly not now."
Pavanna blinks at how... subdued the incredibly flamboyant gnome suddenly becomes, hearing her out intently, openly horrified by the tale she recounts. When Ping is finished speaking, the tiefling coughs past a throat swollen shut by muffled tears, then measures her words before she speaks.
“Ping, thank you for trusting me enough to share this with me. I won’t insult you by comparing the tragedies or terrors of our lives, or by claiming I’ve ever been through something so horrible... but many of the people who trained me were veterans of the Mendevian Crusades, and the horrors they saw....“What I can tell you now is what those veterans told me: ‘use it — don’t let it use you.’ I can’t and won’t tell you not to despise earfangs for what they did to you and your sisters... but hate is a fire, and it will devour and destroy you if you let it rage unchecked. You need to keep that fire under control. If you can’t discard it completely, keep it banked in your heart so it lends you strength — but stop and let your head make the decisions. If you let your hate make all your choices, one day you’ll find yourself either dead or a monster as cruel and ugly as any of them, and on that day those goblins will have finally finished what they started in Whistledown so long ago. The moment you let the hate in you destroy the beauty in you, the earfangs win.”
She pauses for a moment, then startles both of them by swinging down onto one knee and hugging the gnome tightly. “Please, Ping. However hard it may be, don’t ever let their ugliness drag you down to their level.”
A little later, responding to the sprite landing on her shoulder:
After Pavanna and Ping have finished their discussion, Sprig lights onto the priestess's shoulder. Her voice is small and meek.
"Umm, I hope... I hope that I did okay, Miss Pavanna."
For some reason, she seems really nervous.
Pavanna smiles at the sprite gently, nodding in approval. “You did brilliantly, Sprig — and you saved Ping’s life by doing it. Thank you.”
At the Rusty Dragon, after the runner’s message
“Mother always said ‘Once it starts, it never ends’. I think I may finally understand what she meant,” Pavanna drawls ruefully, mostly to herself. She considers raising the matter of Tsuto’s journal with Horatio, but he’s clearly preoccupied with Noro, and judging by her distress at her confrontation with the half-elf, the brawler could do with his support right now. Best not to jog his elbow while he’s handling something so delicate.
Instead, she turns her attention to Thirzin who has the journal, I believe? and Asuriel, waving them together at a table.
At this point, Pavanna would like a chance to read the journal and analyse it thoroughly. The word ‘quasit’ catches her attention — after being raised amongst veterans of the Worldwound, anything demonic is a massive red flag to her — as does mention of said quasit’s ‘freaks’.
“If a quasit has lurks in those tunnels beneath the Glassworks — especially if she has other creatures at her command — we need to regather our strength and deal with it as soon as possible, agreed? A combined attack by goblins from without and this demon and her ‘freaks’ from below could end Sandpoint.”
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
Nope. I've got the journal, too. :P What was that about elbow-jogging?
Asuriel Arktaros |
Assuming then that my beauty and diplomacy get nothing out of our half-elf captor, I will return to the Dragon with the group.
Asuriel approaches the table and raises a brow, "A what-sit?"
She pulls out a chair and sits down and flips the pages back to where it points to 'his lover'. "I'm sure whatever that thing is, it's bad. But there are several other areas that concern me in here."
Asuriel points out the words on the pages as she speaks, "Shalelu told us about Ripnugget and Bruzthazmus, yes?" The name of the bugbear comes out through clenched teeth as she strains not to show her internal determination to bring that creature to justice.
Asuriel shifts her finger to the last paragraph and points out Thistletop, "And we know she told us one of the goblin tribes lived on Thistletop, right?"
Asuriel slides her finger to the middle of the second sentence in the last paragraph and pauses there for a moment, blinking several times at the words.
Almost hesitantly she adds, "And. Then there is ... this."
Asuriel pulls her finger off the page and holds her fingers up to recount the facts that they uncovered the past few days.
She lifts her first finger and says, "The Tobyn crypt was vandalized and Father Tobyn's casket was removed."
She ticks off the second finger, "Father Tobyn's daughter, Nualia Tobyn, who supposedly died in the fire was never found."
Long pause. Hard swallow. Third finger, "Nualia was an Aasimar and this section-" Asuriel reaches down to point to "celestial taint", "seems to infer a connection to something heavenly or angel-like."
She lifts finger four and points to Mother's Grace and then to Lamashtu and then over to Succubi. "And I don't know what this means but it does not paralytically good at ALL. I had hoped to ask Tsuto some questions but he was entirely uncooperative."
Asuriel closers her hands and sits back at the table, folding them. Her hands have moistened and are clammy so she wipes them on her clothes and then replaces them folded on the table again. She doesn't look directly at anyone, but stares at the book quietly, waiting for someone else to take the lead.
Ripnugget seems to favor the overwhelming land approach, but I don’t think it’s the best plan. We should get the quasit’s aid. Send her freaks up from below via the smuggling tunnel in my father’s Glassworks, and then invade from the river and from the Glassworks in smaller but more focused strikes. The rest except Bruthazmus agree, and I’m pretty sure the bugbear’s just being contrary to annoy me. My love’s too distracted with the lower chambers to make a decision. Says that once Malfeshnekor’s released and under her command, we won’t need to worry about being subtle. I hope she’s right.
My love seems bent on going through with it—nothing I can say convinces her of her beauty. She remains obsessed with removing what she calls her "celestial taint" and replacing it with her Mother’s grace. Burning her father’s remains at the Thistletop shrine seems to have started the transformation, but I can’t say her new hand is pleasing to me. Hopefully when she offers Sandpoint to Lamashtu’s fires, her new body won’t be as hideous. Maybe I’ll luck out. Succubi are demons too, aren’t they?
DM-Salsa |
The AP as written point-blank states that you have to magically compel Tsuto to spill the beans he has.
I think that's a little stupid and limiting, not to mention wastes a lovely 19 on the die, so, I'll be doing something different.
You can make rolls to Aid Asuriel and raise her total result by 2 for each success. Also, I'll be playing out the interrogation. using Asuriel's questions as a starting point. If, you manage to get the result to a 35, Tsuto spills his guts. Difficult, but that's what good RP is for. ;)
Ping Ibbleting |
"Ե-Ե-Ես ցավում եմ!" Her voice is soft as she whispers something in a lyrical tongue.
Gnome: "I'm sorry!"
Ping is subdued back to the Dragon, her hair and skin are duller than before, and her eyes dart from shadow, to shadow, almost as if she's afraid that a goblin would leap out and attacker her at any moment.
Once inside, she stays close to Pavanna, almost like a lost puppy.
Sprig Wossername |
"Are goblins, earfangs, er, whatever they're called, always like this?"
DM-Salsa |
Things are in a little bit of a mess right now. Let me get everything caught up and we'll move on from after the Runner delivers his message.
Ameiko leans heavily on Saroune as they make their way to her room at the Rusty Dragon. The apartment is furnished with a mixture of what must be Tien and Varisian decor, along with some pieces Saroune can't quite place. Hanging from the corner of her bed is a vibrant silk robe that looks similar to the dress that Noro had worn. After being set on the edge of the bed, Ameiko grabs Saroune's arm. When she speaks her voice is a pale shadow of its former self. Embarrasment, anger, and more than a little sorrow haunt the young woman's eyes.
"C-can you help get cleaned up? I d-don't know if I can trust my legs right now, an-and I d-d-don't..." Her voice trails off as tears well up in her eyes. Recent events hitting her particularly hard.
As Asuriel opens, Tsuto just sneers at them. His contempt all over his face.
"Ask what you will, it makes no difference, this town and all of the honorless dogs who live here are doomed!"
Olivius_Telraven |
It was a desperate gamble.
know:religion for something Lamashtu would fear: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Try as he might, Olivius just can't think of something brilliant to say or an edge from the religious front. Their captive was fanatical unto death. Meaning he had hope for the afterlife...There! He knew for certainty that his place after death was secured! If they hoped to get anywhere, that fear must be reinstated.
He motions Pavanna and Asuriel into a corner and whispers, We must remove his hope for the afterlife. Only then will he succumb to our questions. We must convince him that his soul is not guaranteed to Lamashtu., in spite of whatever guarantees he may have received. Use Infernal. The only credible source that could steal a soul from Lamashtu would be another demon lord or outright god. We must pretend to be agents of that god.
Saroune Anzoletta |
Saroune bites her lip, unsure of how to respond or help her friend. "Of course, Ameiko. If you need anything, just let me know."
She leaves the bard in her room and hurries downstairs and presents herself to Bethana. "I'm here to help however I can."
DM-Salsa |
Thirzin Bronzebeard |
"There's just a what?" the furry short man asks, giving her time to put together thought.
Thirzin thrums the depths of his knowledge of religious studies, thinking back on past experiences, old tomes, trying to piece together something to help.
Religion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Noro Kas |
Noro won't even lok Horatio in the eyes. I relly don't want to talk about it. itsh shomething I am trying to keep in my pasht. with every hiss from her lisp she is more and more frustrated.
Noro points to the edge of her lip. He did thish
there is a barely noticeable deformity of her lip that was definately caused by an injury. and is most likely the source of her speech problems.
there is more that is a little more painful. something really bad that she obviously wants to forget.
DM-Salsa |
Let me get back to you on that.
Bethana then moves to shoo Saroune out, but Ameiko shakes her head. The halfling nods and shuts the door after leaving.
"I think Bethana got it," Ameiko says with a weak, pitiful smile. "She's always been there for me. Ever since..." Ameiko closes her eyes against some pain that had been long buried. After a few silent minutes tick by, she shakes her head and tries to stand, only to stumble stiffly forward into Saroune and nearly knocking them both down. After making it back to her bed, with a good bit of help, she looks up her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Never thought I'd ask for help getting undressed like this," She mutters, "D-do you think you could get my boots off?"
DM-Salsa |
You think clowns might be something they fear. Everyone's afraid of clowns, right?
Given what was in his journal, it is highly unlikely Tsuto worships Lamashtu. For one, Lamashtans hate beauty in all forms, and given the chance would likely twist or destroy something, or someone as beautiful as the heaven-touched are reputed to be.
You probably don't want to think about what they'd do to Sprig and the other young women in the party.
Short answer, it ain't pretty, pleasant, or good for helping you sleep at night.
Actually, I had to look up what it was they feared. Came up blank but was reminded that Lamashtu would like to do a repeat of Zon-Kuthon's birth on his dear sister. (Seriously, if you take the AP and the Inner Sea Gods book and mix it with a healthy dose of fertile imagination, you can come up with some high-octane nightmare fuel. We're talking about stuff that could fuel an SR-71 of howling screams straight to the Pits of Hell before delivering to you a horde of slathering demons, daemons, and devils just in time to use your blood to make tea and your skin's the filter.)
So yah, fun stuff.
Noro Kas |
I am surprised Amieko hasn't even asked for Lou? or he is, at least, is right in the thick of things trying to help. (and probably getting in the way)
DM-Salsa |
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
Horatio nods as Noro explains her desire not to speak of ill events - he can't blame her. Whatever happened clearly affected her on a deeper level than he'd like to think.
As she points out her injury, he looks a little closer at her lip - at the old scarring, likely the cause of her speech impediment, with her clearly self-conscious about it still. Just as he opens his mouth to say something reassuring, just as he unlaces the vambrace on his left wrist and pushes up his shirt-sleeve to bare his wrist, he hears Lou slamming doors. Quickly blurting out an apology to Noro, he throws himself out of the chair with alarming force, hurrying after the cook, his violin forgotten on the table. He might not know where he's going, but all things considered, it couldn't be good.
Thirzin Bronzebeard |
lol Hey now, I'm not being snide. Lol It's like poking the sleeping cat to see what the noise it will make.
As far as the deity, I definitely have to think there for a minute...hmm...
"Aye, lass. Scary times, but from the sounds of it, ya did good and came out alive. We'll get ya event'lly to the Dragon, for a bit a' something stronger to ease ya mind. Best to try and let it go, like throwing out the dirty dish water. Although I've never smelled dishes as bad as these lot."
The dwarf grins, hoping the joke about goblins will make the little one smile.
DM-Salsa |
Noro Kas |
Horatio jumping up to run away, Noro just sighs. she checks her breath to see if that is a problem.
Noro gets up and grabs his violin. and walks to the kitchen to see what is going on.
Sprig Wossername |
"I don't get it? I mean the goblins are smelly, really smelly, but I thought you ate off dishes, then let the dog clean them. Did that little kid with black curls lie to me?"
Thirzin Bronzebeard |
Lol Glad to see we're in the same mindset of poking fun. From the looks of his journal, what of the deities would really scare him the most? Or be most likely?
"Aye, lass, we eat off plates but if you don't clean 'em, they do smell real. It's only good to let the dog clean the plate if ya don't like the food and don't want to get caught. Otherwise the dog'll try to steal the good food later."
Taking a moment or two, he mentions Olivius away and whoever else he can gather, keeping his voice low.
"This is strange..He isn't acting like he's part of Lamashtu's brood. Just seems to want to see it all burn. But I think there's a few ways to convince him we're not playing around. He may want to see it burn, but not when he knows that he and his "love" are gonna end up even worse off."
Thirzin shudders for a moment, remembering the dreams before.
DM-Salsa |
"I-I-I-I have n-never s-s-seen him like this. He's angry Noro, he had murder in his eyes!"
DM-Salsa |
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
"Bethana, which way did he go?" Horatio asks, fighting to stay calm. "We might be able to stop him before he does something stupid."
Sprig Wossername |
"Ooooooh! I get it now! I think?" She says, suddenly oblivious to the horrors around her as she begins wondering what kinds of foods people wouldn't like, often confusing things like hammers for things you eat. This seems to keep her spirits high enough until they reach the garrison, and she hides in the hood of Thirzin's cloak from Tilo as his raw fury batters those about them through the lid he keeps on it.
DM-Salsa |
"Th-th-the back. He-he left through the back d-d-door." The frightened caretaker says as she points to the door at the back of the kitchen. A new dent in the door showing where it had hit the door jamb.
Noro Kas |
Noro hands the violin to Horatio, you forgot thish taking Horatio by the arm she heads out after Lou. I need you to keep me from doing shomething shtupid. she tells Horatio.
Hesh probably heading toward the Garrison.
know local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
I think I know a short cut, Noro says but soon realizes it isn't really any shorter.
Pavanna Alazario |
“That’s why Olivius and I call them ‘earfangs’ — it’s a term of contempt.” She rubs one horn under her hat, a little self-conscious as she adds in a mutter, “Much as people often use for tieflings, after discussing their many unpleasant traits.”
=====================
At the Garrison....
Aa a prelude: at this rate, it looks like heading back to the Dragon may take a good while and will probably get lost in the shuffle. Like Asuriel, I’d like to cancel/ret-con out that scene we started about discussing the quasit, so we can all concentrate on dealing with Tsuto. We can get back to deciphering his rambling jottings later. :-X
By the looks of it, that makes five of us already at the Garrison with Tilo — Asuriel and Thirzin are fixed on interrogating Tsuto, Pavanna and Olivius frog-marched the twerp there, and a rather blue Ping is trailing after Pavanna. Correct?
“I doubt he cares about ‘after’, Thirzin,” Pavanna shrugs. “By the sound of it, all he cares to see is that everyone in Sandpoint who’s ‘wronged’ him is going to get what they ‘deserve’ for hurting him. That vengeance-lust’s so consumed him that he’s blind to anything beyond it.” She carefully doesn’t look at Ping, but their recent conversation is still fresh in her own mind, and hopefully in the gnome’s as well. Look at him closely, Ping Ibbleting. There is where unfettered hate leads you: to insanity and ruin.
She looks to Olivius, her eyes serious but a gentle, teasing smile on her lips. “And that contempt for ‘after’ means I also doubt that using Infernal as a ruse would achieve much, Olivius. I don’t think Tsuto cares where his soul ends up after he dies, so long as he sees Sandpoint aflame.
“Besides, he’s already seen Asuriel and I standing before him, festooned with the regalia and emblems of Sarenrae and Iomedae, after hearing us both call down our goddesses’ power on our friends and foes. At this point, I think he’s more likely to believe she and I are traveling ribbon-merchants than servants of Asmodeus.” Even if we were willing to play such a role. And while I can’t claim to know Asuriel’s heart... well, to deliberately use a phrase, it will be a cold day in Hell before I present myself as an agent of the Prince of Darkness!
She reaches over and rubs a consoling hand along his arm. “For all that, it was good and inventive thinking. If you have any other ideas, I’m open to them.”
That last is true both IC and OOC, BTW. It may just be the late hour here, but I’m drawing a blank on alternative approaches to cracking Tsuto that aren’t morally repugnant to Pavanna, based on magic no-one currently present possesses, or entirely based on meta-knowledge.... :-S
Olivius_Telraven |
Olivius thinks hard for a moment. He seems to be genuinely torn about something. Finally he shakes his head, curses quietly and says, I can do it. But I'll have to be alone. I can convince him I'm a servant of Asmodeus. Because I was not very long ago, and, maybe, still am.
DM-Salsa |
That scene where Asuriel started discussing what was in the journal? Never happened.
--
Thus sayeth the GM, thus it has come to pass.
Okay, I might be indulging in megalomania just a smidge.
And yes Ping is waiting as well, though not in the room with the others.
Saroune Anzoletta |
Saroune bent to the task of removing her friend's boots, tut-tutting at Ameiko's embarrassment. "Don't worry about me. You just focus on getting those buckles undone."
Horatio A Aldebrandt |
"Why is it that people always seem to do stupid things when I'm around?" Horatio wonders as Noro leads him along the 'shortcut'. "This doesn't seem to be any shorter at all," he mutters in annoyance. "Come on. We can't be wasting time."
To the garrison! To hopefully stop someone from killing someone else!