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Sorry to hear that, Default. Best of luck to you as you finish up school! @Median - We'll be ok if I can manage to get some breathing room. Sheesh! Although from the looks of the Phlanian adventures we're having, it won't make much difference. LOL @Me'mori - It was certainly a pleasure RPing with you. Hope to again in the future.
Irian remained outside a few more moments, giving the area a good look to ensure no prying eyes were spying the group, then slides into the doorway behind Median, gently pulling his sword free from the scabbard. Quiet buildings could just indicate sleeping owners, but it could also be more nefarious, and the warrior was determined to be ready if the latter option was true.
Irian glanced sheepishly at the sorceress as he received a nudge for his well-intentioned almost-gaffe. As she lit the interior of the shop, he stepped behind the two ladies at a tasteful distance, tall enough to see over them. Not the most observant of men even in the best of times, his eyes were inevitably drawn more to the figures in front of the window and the nicely curved silhouettes they made in the light. What were they doing here again?
It's the holiday season, so...meh. LOL
Irian lifted his longsword, preparing to slam the pommel against the window pane, then realized the cleric was speaking to Jix. Sheepishly he lowered his sword, trying to make it look like a strange stretch before he turned away and squinted his eyes as if on the lookout for trouble.
Unsure of what else the group could accomplish besides possibly searching more thoroughly, the warrior watched the Sheriff go inside to console his sobbing wife before sighing and turning to the others. He supposed the next order of business was the chandler, so prepared to walk the short distance to the given address once everyone was ready.
Irian had never been the most complex man, so he let the ladies do the talking to the Sheriff, mainly keeping an eye on the man lest another rage-fit come over him. His ears perked up at the talk of a candlemaker in town, though. If they had found candle wax, that seemed like a possible lead to follow. He had no idea how they'd go about it, though. The warrior was a fairly direct individual, but he doubted "Hey, we found some candle wax where the Sheriff's daughter used to be so thought that maybe you kidnapped her." would go over well.
Irian looked at Lia and Median as they collected some stuff from the grass that he had obviously missed. His brow furrowed as he looked at it, then he shrugged and backed off a few steps, letting people more able-minded think about things in peace. Perhaps if they didn't find anything further they could go back to the Manor and check on the Gavril fellow for the fetchlings. At least maybe one person could go to sleep a little easier this evening.
Irian glanced about for clues, though he had never been an outdoorsy type. Still, the tale of the missing child did pull a bit at his sense of duty, and while he couldn't empathize with the Sheriff, he could surely sympathize. The warrior winced as he clanged around, then thought about it and shrugged internally...quiet wasn't exactly going to help them find anything at the moment.
Irian followed along closely behind Gray, trying to make sure to keep himself interposed between the diseased man and his companions. As he felt Median's healing magic wash over him, the warrior gave her a confused look but otherwise continued on, hoping that whatever help they might be able to provide would calm the Sheriff down. The fighter was rather grateful for the added light that illuminated the path, though the fact that they bobbed through the air on wings was a little disconcerting.
As he spied Median peering more intently at the Sheriff, Irian tried to shift the man's attention away. "Perhaps you could lead us to your home, Sheriff? Maybe there is a clue there that could shed some light on your daughter's whereabouts?"
Irian tried to force the Sheriff's irrational behavior into a corner, for now, instead trying to focus on what the man had to say about the disappearance of his daughter. That could definitely explain some of the man's behavior, the warrior reasoned. He remained quiet, waiting for Grey to answer and wary should the man suddenly become violent.
Having just witnessed the irrational behavior of the sheriff, Irian stayed close by Median as she questioned the man. The fighter's posture was more relaxed than it had been when the lynching had been in full swing, but he felt it was unwise to take chances with a lunatic that wore a mantle of authority.
Irian's first instinct is to react to the Sheriff's blustering, threatening attitude with bared steel, but he stays his hand as Median continued to calmly and logically assault his insane rage. The tactic was clearly working with the townspeople, though that fact seemed to be driving Grey mad. The warrior stayed close to the good-natured cleric, dividing his attention between her and the fetchlings to make sure no one tried to attack them while the scene played out.
Irian frowned more deeply as the villager explained the group's reasoning to Median. It seemed that people in power abandoning those they were charged to lead and protect was not a regional problem in the Varisian subcontinent. The good-natured cleric seemed to be blunting the worst of the issue, but the crowd was still calling for blood. This could get ugly, and quick. As Median continued to reason with the crowd, Irian stepped off the platform to the man who seemed to be Captain Grey, glowering at the heavyset man. "Sir, please tell these people to go home. We'll take these folks into custody until we can sort this out." With a wave of his hand he indicated the surrounded fetchlings. Plan C was likely slugging a meaty fist into Grey's gut, so he hoped the zealot would listen to reason.
As the situation began to play out in front of the group, Irian looked on in weary resignation. Was this the reaction of every backwater town to a crisis? To condemn and execute anyone different? The warrior whole-heartedly agreed with Jix's sentiment, though a dark part of the young man's brain wanted the villagers to try such a thing with the group. Frightened fetchlings were much different than well-trained warriors, after all. Still, cooler heads needed to prevail if that wasn't to devolve into a full-blown s~*# show, so Irian walked with Median to the gallows as she addressed the crowd. When she seated herself on the platform, presumably to get in front of the mob, but also to somewhat block the folks from using the nooses, he took his place on the platform, looming behind her with a dark look and saying nothing as he crossed his thick arms.
As the more conversational of the group say their farewells to Lady Boroi, Irian finally moved a bit away from the wall so as to be closer to the exit when the group made its way to the door. He offered the noblewoman a slight bow as a courtesy, keeping his face somber though he felt a bit like giggling. When the group was outside, he sighed inwardly at the thought of investigating a sickness. The commotion at the carnival had been aggravating to a degree, but at least there was a tangible foe to face at the end. How did one fight a sickness? This place needed a medicine man more than adventurers, it seemed. Then again, they had their very own lady of the gods with them. Perhaps Median could help with the problem and they could be on their way to a more sexy issue. For now, though, they needed to speak with this Grey. The warrior walked with the group, keeping his eyes wary for those that might think of tailing or ambushing the party. The people didn't seem the sort, but desperate times made for terrible choices, and even Irian had to admit that the group's wealth was starting to show. Best to be careful.
As Irian did his best to blend in, he felt movement behind him and saw his rat-like companion slinking between him and the wall, obviously doing a better job of being unobtrusive than the large warrior. He smirked, then shrugged...everyone had their gifts. As the noblewoman answered Tish, and then Median asked follow-up questions, Irian listened patiently and with interest, already assuming the group's next stop would be with the Captain Grey that the woman had mentioned.
Irian's eyes widened as he listened to the noblewoman tell of the extreme steps the Baron had taken to isolate the community. As the Lady went on to talk of disappearances and diseases, the warrior grew concerned, though he had grace enough to keep his mouth shut and let more experienced social experts in the party (i.e., everyone who wasn't him) engage Boroi. The fighter just continued to keep a few paces away from the main conversation, hoping his presence nearby would help somewhat soothe the woman, but also staying far enough away so that his size would not intimidate. He shifted his weight to his other foot, and winced as an assortment of creaks and metallic jingles accompanied the movement. The armor had saved his life countless times, but it could make remaining unobtrusive difficult.
Well I didn't want to seem too eager...but I'm sure Irian would be game for giving Lia his relatively short and tame tale. And we sure wouldn't want her to be mischievous.
Irian just offered the Nidalese noblewoman a brief nod of respect, not wanting to interrupt his companions and their questions and answers to the scarred Lady. The warrior kept an even face, as the woman did not seem under duress. The nobility was a strange group, and he didn't understand much about the customs of them in his native land, let alone a foreign one. Best to stay in the background and look competent and let the lovely, well-spoken ladies do the verbal exercise.
Irian shrugged, handing the reins of the lead horse over to a servant before looking at his companions to gauge their reaction. The warrior was alright with going insight, but he wasn't going to break any barriers for mental prowess, so he figured he'd trust their opinion of both this butler and the situation in general. If they proceeded inside, he would follow suit. If not, then he would do the same.
Irian's brow furrowed deeply as they made their way through the town and towards the manor, looking at the terrified expressions of the townsfolk, the hungry gazes for the fuel the wagon would provide the flames. Something had happened, and recently. There's no way the fires raging could be maintained for a long period without a massive effort. Then again, it made sense...they had been sent to help, after all. He wondered what might be troubling the town when the nicely-dressed graybeard approached the group. The warrior did his best to just look pleasant and not intimidating, keeping his hand away from his sword hilt as he waited for one of the more personable ladies to start talking.
As the wagon rolled near to the group's destination, Irian exited the Good Noodle and strode outside, ostensibly to lead the horses (though of course they needed no such direction). Still, this place seemed a bit more superstitious than most, so having someone handling a mundane task might make the people seem more at ease. He eyed the numerous bonfires and torches with curiosity, wondering where all the fuel for such things might come from. It had to take an enormous amount of lumber to keep the things burning at all times.
Irian woke early and dressed in the relative privacy the darkness provided, making his way out to the living area only to find it already occupied by most of his female co-habitants. He settled in to eat, listening intently to the priestess as she spoke about the proposed arrangement. His face turned thoughtful, his eyes drifting upward as he mulled over her words as he munched on the delicious victuals arrayed before him. She made a good point...they didn't really have any idea what they would be signing up for. Though Irian didn't think too much of that...he had heard of too many treaties and agreements that had been signed and broken before the ink was dry to hold much stock in this one, should he decide to part ways. Then the excitable sorceress spoke, and Irian went from contemplative to downright confused as she started her discourse. True names? He only had the one set of names...was he supposed to have more? And what was the deal with blood? He didn't remember signing anything with blood, though his memories directly before coming through the gate with Median were sketchy at best. He understood her point about the summoning of bad guys to take them out, though, and nodded along sagely. The warrior stared at Kari flatly as she pointed out the purpose of the bathhouse key, though it shouldn't have surprised him that the hedonistic mesmerist had wanted to keep that little treasure to herself. Once the conversation was over, Irian followed Median over to the documents, shrugged, then signed his name clumsily at the bottom near the priestess's signature, calmly sitting back down and finishing up breakfast.
Irian's brow scrunched up at Kari's words, though his eyes followed her motions like a moth drawn to the flame, perhaps lingering where the key disappeared a moment or so longer than was strictly necessary. See what soon enough? Even the thought had the warrior's dusky face darkening, and he nodded and murmured a hasty 'good night' before he himself headed into the pillow room for a well-deserved rest.
As Median handed the slower-reading warrior the scroll and retired to the pillow room, Irian powered through the remainder of the text, then shrugged. It seemed as good a path to take as any, to the young man. Four lovely young women and one lovely rat...thing would make fine company indeed for the journey ahead. His eyes flitted over to Tish as she sauntered over to the locked doors and tried out their new key. He decided that prudence demanded he stay where he was, in case something exploded out of the room. He couldn't exactly help the dark-haired woman if he also was blasted, now could he?
The split seems as good as any...I'm fine with selling the Hide Armor and Scarf, though the damage to Tish and Median's friendship may never be mended.
Thoughts of the pillow room had the warrior yearning to leave the main room behind, but his curiosity got the better of him and he sidled up behind and to the side of Median, attempting to read it as she unfurled the scroll. He eyed the key for a moment before he let his eyes flit over the paper, not a fast reader but decent enough. Definitely better than most of his fellow guardsmen over the years.
Forgot we rolled for HP! Hmmm...ok, then.
Irian glanced at the small ratfolk woman as she spoke to Kari, his head cocking to the side as he tried to weed through the dialect Jix used. He was pretty sure she was talking about him, though Median was most assuredly not his missus. Though it might not be a bad thought, actually, they just hadn't actually had time to discuss anything like that, being busy trying to keep a sphinx from being executed in a small town and all. Still, it seemed as though they had the woman's blessing, which Irian supposed was a good thing even though he had only known her for about five minutes. When the group met with Almara later, the warrior stood in the background, hands at his side. He had been told crossed arms were a sign of standoffishness, so he tried to refrain from doing so, even though it was a nervous habit. When it seemed the conversation had ended, the fighter offered the carnival leader and Ika a smile and nod, though his brow furrowed at Tish's parting words. When had she become the leader? He'd have to keep a better eye on the group dynamics...he had totally missed that one. He shrugged internally, though, just satisfied to have a happy resolution and a bit of loot to boot. Already the decision to leave the life of a soldier and embark upon this strange journey seemed to be paying off. Irian procured one of the potions Almara had given them, also pocketing his share of the silver before he got ready to go...well, where were they going? He supposed he'd be told when they had a destination in mind.
Irian's attention was drawn from the gleefully cataloging sorceress to her companion as she asked the warrior about his plans. His dark eyes drifted to all the moving parts of her, though he did at least try to hide his wandering gaze, if rather poorly. He wrenched his eyes back into his head and thought about the question for a moment before answering Kari. "Why not? As a soldier, I did the bidding of another...this is much the same, only with a lot more flair and adventure and possibility to do good, from what I've seen so far." In a good mood, Irian listened to Tish's rebuke with a grin on his face, shrugging at the initial question. Though the mesmerist's attitude might be lacking, he couldn't really fault her logic in talking to Almara about their successful (and timely) defense of the carnival and its employees. After that...well, he had already answered the sorceress's lovely cohort, but why not again? "Sounds like a plan to me...until the teleport Median mentioned, of course."
Level 4 Update: Attribute - Str +1
Climb
Irian stared in awe at the contents of the boxes as Lia imparted that the whole lot was magical. He had never seen such a concentrated amount of wealth in one area. And it belonged to him and his companions. Perhaps his judgment of Feldane had been too harsh. As he read through the letter, he suspected that he himself could learn a lesson or two from this debacle, as well. "Seems like a job well done, in the end. What exactly is it that you lot do, again? Just go around at the behest of that wizard fellow?"
Sorry! Kids had me running amok all weekend. I am definitely in. Will post level 4 updates shortly. As for the split, I am not opposed to Tish's idea, though I prefer Median's idea of splitting items based on utility then splitting the remaining cash evenly. Things tend to even out over time, and a 2,000 gp weapon is better than 1,000 gp in coin, if the weapon can be used. Still, I'm ok with either way.
Irian couldn't help but grin as the lovely (yet socially awkward) sorceress belted out a couple of one-liners as they were approached by the Sheriff. The warrior was still breathing hard, but considering how many bolts had been flying his way and how many bites and nails he had managed to evade, he considered that things here had turned out pretty well. Irian thought about Feldane's offer, then shrugged. He could always use an enchanted blade, who couldn't? But the cost of such an item was surely prohibitive. As the small ratwoman approached and offered her hand, he took it and gave it a firm shake. "Us lot are Irian Davies and Median Zeroux. And exactly who might you be?" He cocked his head to the side, looking to the other ladies of the group for explanation and/or corroboration.
Irian again was a relative flash of movement (it was hard to move quickly when you were the human equivalent of a steel-shelled tortoise), deflecting one set of claws with his shield and dodging the were-creature's nasty bite. He took the other set of claws across the face, the wound painful but more irritating than life-threatening. Growling, the swordsman again squared up with the beast, trying to bring it down for good.
Irian grimaced as one of the bolts actually managed to score a glancing hit on his cheek, drawing an angry red line across it. A couple of inches to the side, and he'd have it sprouting from his face. Time to stop messing around. As one of the thieves dropped down into striking distance, the warrior swung heavily at them, hoping to drop them before they could injure one of the less armored of his companions.
The warrior then turned his attention back to the leader of the guild, trying to bring the creature low once and for all.
Again came the clatter of bolts around Irian and against his armor as he kept his focus on the rat-monster-thing, keeping his defenses up between the vicious looking claws and his person. After shoving aside her attacks, Irian counters, hoping for better luck this time around.
Thinking about it, the warrior decided he wanted to infuriate the guildmembers further by taunting them, purposefully missing with his swing and leaving himself open.
Irian managed to interpose his shield between himself and the monstrous leader of the guild, the woman-thing not able to get her claws around his defenses. The warrior grit his teeth as she shouted out to her subordinates to kill him, preparing to feel some hurt. Surprisingly, between his armor and just sheer luck from moving about trying to evade the werebeast, he is left unscratched, for now. Thinking to take advantage of his good fortune, he pressed the attack on the alchemist, stepping to his right to allow Median a route of escape should she so choose.
Irian's face betrayed his surprise as his sword is turned aside by the alchemist-creature, his poised demeanor not enough to keep a cry of pain escaping his lips as the thing managed to both bite and scratch him. The warrior was startled by another trio of bolts flying in at him, but blew a sigh of relief as his armor turned them all aside. Gritting his teeth, he again swung at the creature that seemed to be leading the thieves, not eager to allow it to keep attacking him.
Seeing the remaining rogue in front of him suddenly glance at Lia with a fawning expression, Irian took a chance and backed off from the thug, stepping over to help with the pressed Median. He swung his weapon at the creature attacking her, hoping to draw its ire.
Irian blocked the feeble attempts to strike him with his shield, concern on his features as he saw the whatever-it-was leap down and start tearing into his priestess companion and a pet skunk. He was loath to leave his post and expose the sorceress to attack, though, so instead sought to bring the thugs down quickly.
Irian sharply sucked in his breath as a crossbow bolt appeared in his shield a few inches from his face, but otherwise kept his composure as the thieves fired down on him. If they were shooting at him, it meant that they weren't shooting at his companions, so he chalked that up as a win. Braving the smelly onslaught of the skunks, the warrior moved into the large room, determined to bring down the other thief at the door so that he could proceed to move on towards the ranged combatants.
Irian is almost as surprised to see their skunk allies as the thieves are, but after a startled yelp he turned his attention to the rogue to the left of the door. Thinking that acting as a blocking force between the two women and the host of enemies inside, the fighter does not move, instead planting himself in the doorway and slicing at the thief.
Smooth, Lia. :)
Irian looked back at the two women tensely, watching as Median opened the other interior door. Good idea, that, making sure they weren't leaving anyone behind them. As Lia wrapped up the conversation with the older man, the warrior's brow furrowed at the realization that there were many enemies ready to pounce when they opened the door. Then again, it shouldn't come as a surprise. The group was expected, after all. Seeing that there had been no commotion raised at this point, Irian assumed the others had gotten inside undetected. Time to get things started...the warrior reached forward with his shield hand after they had ascertained no one else was in this part of the building, throwing the door open wide and leading with his shield.
Irian impatiently waited for the two women to milk the older man of information, certain that the sorceress had laid some kind of witchery on the man. His eyes nervously kept roaming to the door, expecting to hear the sounds of fighting any second, or the door to fling inward in a sea of bristling crossbows. He kept his sword ready, not threatening the old man with it, but keeping the point off the ground in case he needed to react.
Irian fixed the old man with a hard stare, but he stood aside to let him pass if he followed Median's directions. He alternated looking into the large room and the old man, trying to assess any threats therein.
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