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Hektir the Tracksmage |
The Mighty Battle Floof sniffs at the both, wishing it had food to offer. He walks out of the closet and returns to human form.
"I have no food for them. Just moonshine," Hektir says, stretching out in human form. "Might be that we take them back to the spirit now and see what happens, maybe rest the night so that Mal's house magics can feed them."
Pemsworth Smith, Esq. |
Pems nods. He turns to the children.
Tsin Windscar |
Tsin regards the entrances to the building, briefly, before turning her attentions back on the children. She almost lets them go to the conversation in the unknown tongue and to those in command of it, before she decides to look over both of the youth with her cautious eye. For their storied history, which includes doppelgangers, she can't be too sure.
Detect Evil, at will.
If the children give off a shadow of evil, she remains fixed on them. If not, she looks through anything that can give her a vantage on the dullahan camp. She wonders if they've taken out all of them, or only a squad.
"We've not laid eyes on the dullahans' camp directly, nor have we looked into that smaller building across the yard." Indicating Building #4. "Other than the evil, fenced-in mists, we may have turned over every other stone. So, we have children, and a dead body which lacks a soul, which sounds like every other dead body, if we're speaking freely here."
Tsin looks ready to bolt in any direction, given a cue from one of the men.
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir spits a manly glob on the ground, itching his arm. "Ayep. We should get these children to Serena. Might be that we rest there and get them some food. Shall we sneak out? Or can you blippy-blip them there, Mal?"
Hektir/Pems can probably sneak over there, but not sure how many Mal can poof over if Mal can poof.
Quinn Kestrel |
"Another night in the mansion sounds good to me. Should we create more chaos in the camp before we shelter for the evening, give them soldiers some more distractions to deal with?"
Quinn can drop another flame strike on something before we rest for the evening. Also, Quinn has teleport and his dimensional hop
Malavarius King |
I'm out of dimension doors, but I have some teleports up my sleeve still which can accommodate everyone, including the kiddos. Those do have a little bit of risk with arriving on target vs off target, however.
Malavarius turns to Hektir and nods, "I can whisk us back to the hut, or to the door to my tower where the maladaemon was, or back over to the building we found Serena within. Or I can just summon the door to the tower to us here. I am a very great wizard, after all." He then regards Quinn and tugs on his beard as he considers the idea. "Well, we've already riled the hornet's nest as it were. If you want to swat a few more of them before we tuck away for the evening, feel free, lad."
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir rubs the back of his neck, somewhat unused to his human form.
"Yeah, I think to the ghost. Maybe put the entrance there?" Hektir says, really not having a preference.
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First, the blade functions as a kukri. Sorry, Tsin, no more falchions.
The girl nods hesitantly as Pems talks to her.
"I ... think I remember someone like that," she says, blinking as she clearly tries to recall. "But she's ... fuzzy. Like I should know who that is, but I can't remember."
The boy just glowers, but nods defiantly when he realizes the girl seems willing to go.
Neither radiate evil that Tsin can see.
Malavarius King |
"Foul witchy magic from the sounds of it. Hate the stuff. Worst of the worst. Pemsworth, lad, ask her if she'd be willing to let me cast a spell or two over her, would you? If she's got a curse wound about her that's robbed her of her memories of her mother, I might be able to break it."
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir moves to the windows to look out, scouting for danger while others cast spells and look for missing hats.
He spits and rubs his shoulders, not out of cold, but anticipation.
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Mal sees Pems ask about his hat in the strange language of these strange people ... and is thrilled when after a few moments the girl nods, answering the question in the affirmative. She knows where his hat is! After all these long days and weeks and maybe even months, his searching has finally paid off. The journey can now come to an end!
The boy babbles something else -- holding out his arm in front of his sister -- in their strange language and Mal can only wait for Pems to translate what he's certain must be the actual location of his long-lost hat, visions of recovering it and returning home to Heldren dancing through his head.
"Подождите! Что это за заклинание? У нас не будет грузовика с темной магией!"
"Wait! What is this spell? We will have no truck with dark magics!"
Pemsworth Smith, Esq. |
Pems holds up his hands.
Malavarius King |
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Malavarius' face darkens as Pemworths makes the boy's question clear, and the old wizard frowns. "They're holding my hat hostage! Good heavens, the children of this world are ruthless. Blast and bebother!" He tugs his beard and then explains, "The first spell is simply to determine if there are any magics on them to begin with. If there are any curses at work on them, the next will try to break it. But if they're sly enough to keep an old man from his good hat, they probably know all this already!"
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir spits, partially paying attention to the conversation and partially focused out the window.
Mal, your last post would have been a good time to explain what and where you'd be teleporting and about the mansion.
Tsin Windscar |
"Stop asking permission from children, and just do the damned deed already. You act as if we're beholden to them, when it's quite the opposite. They are valuable to Rasputin, so they are valuable to us. If you can jog either of their memories, do it. Do it now."
From Tsin's tone of voice, she is plum out of patience, and will grab someone's ear, child or halfling or geezer, to see themselves from the abattoir.
Quinn Kestrel |
Quinn gives Hektir one of those 'this is going to be a long day' looks and opens a bottle of 'shine to pass the time. "Do you think Mal ever actually had a good hat? Maybe it just wore out and turned into a bad hat?"
Malavarius King |
"They're obviously frightened and I'm not about to go abducting children, whether it's for their greater good or not! Besides, if they're surprised by my spells, regardless of how great a wizard I am, there's a chance they might resist the effects." The old arcanist frowns then at Quinn's comment, but continues to focus on Tsin. "And I don't care who you are, how good you swing that fancy stick, or how uncomfortable being idle for a few minutes might make you, Tsin. Just because we're stuck on this blasted world dealing with all manner of horrible messes, doesn't mean we have to abandon basic manners!"
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"We are hardly cursed," the boy shoots back in Russian, trying to pull himself to his full height to at least stand up to Pems, if not the rest of you. "God and his holy servants look after us!"
What spells are you wanting to cast Mal? I was also assuming teleport, but sounds like you have something else in mind.
Tsin Windscar |
""They're obviously frightened and I'm not about to go abducting children, whether it's for their greater good or not! Besides, if they're surprised by my spells, regardless of how great a wizard I am, there's a chance they might resist the effects. And I don't care who you are, how good you swing that fancy stick, or how uncomfortable being idle for a few minutes might make you, Tsin. Just because we're stuck on this blasted world dealing with all manner of horrible messes, doesn't mean we have to abandon basic manners!"
Tsin growls low as the old wizard snaps at her. "We are in the middle of one of those messes, Mal. We do not have time to sit them down to a tea ceremony, and teach them the proper use of utensils. Not when there are explosions taking place just outside..."
Tsin grows quiet a moment. Something dawns behind her eyes. For the pause forced upon her by the wizard, she considers something. She recalls something.
"Pems. Can they understand us? As I speak to you here, will they know the meaning of our words?"
Tsin Windscar |
"Oh, no, do not translate here, for a moment. I just remembered what Serena said. I have to weigh a dead woman's words against two children before us, not one."
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir spits, wondering why we are arguing here rather in the warm halls of Mal's bud hole, with all the ale they all can drink.
He waits to go.
"We might not be safe here. Soon they might start searching for us. Might as well get to safety."
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Tsin Windscar |
"We might not be safe here. Soon they might start searching for us. Might as well get to safety."
Tsin nods. "Yes, Mal, let's retreat to your abode. If you want to show them you mean them no harm, best remove them from the slaughter floor, and welcome them with warmth and sustenance."
Cleaning her falchion, she sheathes it, putting her hands up to show the boy she means them no ill will. For now.
Malavarius King |
Malavarius glances at Tsin then sighs, "Very well." With an arcane word and gesture of his hand, the door to his tower appears in the room.
"There. We can take refuge here, safe from any searches or explosions or whathaveyous, and we can figure out how best to save these children from that snake Rasputin!"
I'll set the door just in front of one of the walls of the room, preferably where there's the least amount of gore and slaughter to have to step through.
Tsin Windscar |
Tsin doesn't hesitate to walk into Mal's tower, for the second time. She finds the means for cleaning herself of the interlocutor offal which still adorns her pant legs. When she feels more presentable, she returns to Mal and his magical dissection of the amnesiac girl. The only one mentioned by Serena.
She waits for Pems and Mal to engage the adolescents and come to some kind of understanding.
Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir takes the 'shine from Quinn's hands even though there is plenty of other 'shine around because that's what men do: share booze and women. He takes a good sized swig and offers the bottle back to the man.
He looks around the mansion for a second time.
"Mal, this place have a bath? A hot bath? This isn't one of them s$$@hole hotels without a bath, is it?" Hektir offers with a spit on the polished tile floor. (He was aiming for the potted plant, but missed.)
"And we're going to need more boooz...oh nevermind," Hektir's eyes catch sight of the table o' booze in the corner. "Yeah, that'll do nicely."
Hektir will grab a bottle of hooch and head off for the baths. He will also grab a few sammiches on his way out.
* * *
Cleaned, pooped, and fed, Hektir is finally able to turn his attention to the children.
"Any progress with them yet?" Hektir asks Pems.
Pemsworth Smith, Esq. |
"The boy is surly and the girl seems strange, innocent but distracted, maybe controlled?" Pems mutters. He smiles at the children, keeping an eye on them. "I don't quite know what to make of the boy. Bravado or something else?"
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Tsin Windscar |
"We could ask Serena, I suppose. Perhaps offer to reunite the two with the woman's ghost, and see what occurs. Hear what she has to say about what stands before her." Tsin wonders if Serena will still be there, should they return to Rasputin's manor house.
Her mind plays with antagonizing the boy, suggesting that only the girl be brought to Serena, but to what end, she can not be sure. In the end, she thinks on the camp more than she does the two children, and where they might encounter a stolen soul. The one-legged man missing a soul seems likelier to result in some deeper understanding of the camp, and what Rasputin seeks to accomplish here.
"I wonder how often Rasputin checks in on the children. We may not have much time, now that I think about it, until he comes looking for them."
Tsin eventually stands to leave, expecting to escort the children to Serena to hold audience with the chained specter.
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Malavarius King |
Yeah, I legit thought that was her actual name. Malavarius has been making a concerted effort since Artrosa to be better at names!
"A bath? Of course there's a bath! Why didn't you make use of it last night?" Malavarius' face wrinkles in disgust even as one of the formless servants drifts over to clean up Hektir's spit from the floor.
He turns to Pemsworth then and nods, "Protective of the lass, at the very least. And good for him! There are folk like Hektir about and his standards seem to lower every time we step out of that thrice-blasted hut." Shaking his head, he sighs. He waves Tsin over and speaks quietly with her and Pemsworth, though he does give a start when the halfling comes close. "Goodness, Pemsworth. Sometimes that new face and body of yours startle me. How are you adjusting, by the by? Wait. Before the thought escapes me, let's ask the lad and lass about that ghost again. Alex-something? Alexdrina? Alexandra? Yes, I think that's it. Blast Hektir and those cauliflower ears of his. If Alexandra is to be believed, the lass there doesn't have any relatives. So if the boy says he's a brother or some such, something fishy's afoot!"
He looks up then at the children still gaping about in awe and he waves a few servants over to wordlessly present them food and drink, the latter being a warm, creamy drink made of chocolate and milk Biala had loved years ago.
Tsin Windscar |
Tsin nods, glad of Mal's words, and Pems's translation. The task is a lengthy one, back and forthing in foreign words, but she expects to hear the boy bluster again, and the girl to chase phantom butterflies with her eyes.
Should the words fail to find their mark, Tsin encourages another visit to the Tsarina, hoping to resolve the girl's amnesia quickly.
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Hektir the Tracksmage |
Hektir listens and waits, trying to find a way to help.
Oh man, I've got the stomach flu/fever that has been going around...been 3 days and it's still kicking my ass.