Irivis suppresses a genuine wince as she lets Calla help her up. "I may have overcooked it a little," she murmurs.
Upstairs, she watches and waits, unsurprised that Jareen is now the centre of attention. Clearly the old coot has made some connections in his time and been in a powerful enough position to do so.
Irivis takes no special precautions to remain hidden. Nobody notices a lame woman.
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16 - Insight
She senses nothing amiss with Qualli, but is not surprised when Arakan takes the man aside for a quiet word. For the time being, she considers being in a city again and decides that one of the advantages should be a good massage for her battered leg.
If Qualli is paying us to guard him all the way to Tyr, then unless we want (or need) to break the contract, then I guess we leave when he does.
"I fear that will not be possible." Irivis keeps her tone reverential, but firm.
"There are matters which require His Lordship's attention. It is vital that they are not betrayed by your august presence. It is not permitted to say more."
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18 - Bluff
Before turning her attention to Jareen.
Irivis watches and perhaps understands more of Arakan's feelings than she's ready to reveal. Her half glance at him as she heads to her watch post is verging on the sympathetic. Or as close to such an emotion as she's prepared to allow herself.
"Reconciled. To working. To us. To survival. Athas is harsh enough everywhere, but you are a very long way from where you belong. Further than most of us, I think."
Irivis watches Qualli carefully throughout the day, trying to learn any familiar pattens he may have so she can more readily spot any differences in behaviour. For the most part she relies on her own inner strength to deal with the familiar sun. As the company draw to a halt, she looks at the stones suggested as a campsite.
"A convenient marker for bandits," she mutters under her breath to her close companions.
"We'll just have to make sure we're worth too much to him then. Sounds normal to me."
Irivis adjusts her new mask.
"I agree with Calla. Dawn and dusk travel."
On horrible laptop with terrible connection so may be chancy until return from Brighton on Saturday.
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22 - Arcana
Irivis keeps backing away, watching out for any danger signs among the staff wielders. Despite the silt-runner and Broghe fear and loathing of magic, her suspicious mind cannot help thinking that advance warning would be helpful. Someone else in the crowd could be hiding secrets.
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28 - Bluff
Thanking her stars that Arakan's attack finally felled the pyreen and taking advantage of the confusion, Irivis does her utmost to remain inconspicuous and sneak away unseen. Drawing on her pact, she wraps herself in shadow and blends into the sand.
Curse Brogh A
Irivis can only grab futilely at the Brogh's ankles as she tries to crawl clear.
No point in staying there. It gets an OA, but basically anything that hits her will kill her, and she really doesnt' want to be next to it. If she survives, move to S18.