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"I didn't mean it like that." The tiefling smiles again. It may have been an attempt to appear friendly, but it mostly makes him look like a shark.
"I'm just saying we've got all sorts in here, some whom are into joyful tidings and some who aren't. And, speaking of ungrateful bastards, I could tell you about the time Torch shipped all of us Shadow Lodgers down the river without a paddle . . ."
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If your target well and truly deserves to be stopped with violence then it doesn't matter if you stop them face to face or with a knife to the back. The ones that revel in the thrill of combat, making a game out of life and death, or show off with on ostentatious display by loudly proclaiming your presence are all more worrisome to me than someone doing the right thing as quickly and efficiently as possible.
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"So.sorry. I keep forgetting the newcommers aren't used to that.
"I'm sure you'll run into the reasons those rumors get started soon enough. But its a pretty diverse group and we don't all feel that way. Usually I try to keep them alive, but between some of my comrades and my velociraptor getting a little.. well.. angry that doesn't always happen.
Usually I can soften them up with some water spells so they'll go down before they die. The saranites have a trick for hitting people with the flat of the blades you should ask about, or get a sap. Sometimes people that attack you are just doing it for money and you can talk them into not attacking people for a living. Well someone elese can.. no one listens to me really.
If they're not going to reform well... being a rat isn't that bad and it might be an improvement. Theres a couple of giants that really seemed to enjoy being red pandas...
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"Oh trust me, I know the feeling. I've had Conan pretend to be a druid while I sat on his head because he was easier to talk to than I am.
"Saranites are ssaranrae's cul... followers of Saranrae. She locked Rovagog in the core of the earth at the dawn of creation. I pretended to be one for a while then I got stabbed. A saranite not a ravagog. They use scimitars, and have this trick of holding the blade halfway down it with their off hand and spinning. It's pretty cool to watch. I think I have their book here..." the bat curls up and puts his head into a fold in his stomach, pulling out a book bigger than he is and letting it fall down with a THUMP. A rather battered copy of "The birth of truth and light" with a number of different hands and blank pages.
"Red pandas are easier to explain...." the bat drops down from the ceiling, his wings melting away as his fur grows out over a rapidly expanding body, a long tail sprouting out from his rump and growing alternating black and red bands.
"And bears are friendly. They don't consider humanoids on the menu unless you make them mad.. so don't make them mad, and bring along some honey.
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The door opens, and a half elven woman enters-hazel hair pulled back into a braid, wearing sturdy traveler's clothes in colors of purple and black. A dagger and rapier are sheathed at her hips, and a battered leather satchel is slung over one shoulder. Sticking out from the bag is a oblong item- a wooden instrument case. Sapphire-blue eyes flick over the surroundings, and a hesitant look crosses her face.
"...I am in the proper place, am I not? This is where the Silver Crusade gathers? My name is Saetria Rivensong, and I was told to come here."
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The heavily armored and armed woman seems to come out of her reverie and watches the druids antics with a puzzled, but not frowning, expression. She offers a beaming smile to Saetria and nods. "You are in the right place, and please be welcome. All those who wish to make Golarion a better place are welcome here. Would you care for a drink, or something to eat? Are you in need of anything?"
Bree-Bran shifts over on the bench to make room at the trestle table. "Some of us have much to think about, and remain quiet for a while, but you can meet many kinds here. I happen to be a chosen warrior of the Inheritor, as is Thordin there. Doyle is actually a person, but spends his time in many forms. He is friends with Conan who mostly stays in his own shape. Augustine may remind you of the dark evils we must face, but look into his heart and see what you can see. Some of the stoutest fighters I have met have had visages to make ignorant people flee."
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A small smile flicks over Saetria's face and she shakes her head, offering a elegant bow.
"Thank you, but no thank you. I ate on the way here-but if anything, a room would be nice. Normally I'd sing or play for my supper and lodgings, but all the inns nearby already have entertainers for the night." She reaches over her shoulder to pat the wooden case. "And the temple of Shelyn-their guestrooms were already taken." She moves away from the door, advancing slightly towards the table.
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Saetria blinked.
"A few of the clerics where I lived were members of this organization." She replied. "They were the ones who helped me join-and suggested that I come here-where my talents could possibly be better utilized." She replied. Now slightly wary, her gaze flicked over the occupants of the room.
"Have I erred someplace? If needed, I can provide the proper papers to prove what I say is true..."
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Saetria frowned, and then sat at the table. Pulling the battered satchel in front of her, she removed the oblong case and set it on her lap, undoing the latches and opening it. A beautiful flute lay nestled in soft cloth inside-and the half elf gently lifted it out, starting to inspect the instrument for signs of wear.
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Getting up from his table after excusing himself to the others seated there, Rhon walks up to the table Saetria just sat down at.
Placing a tankard of fine Dwarven ale and a plate containing various meats, cheeses, and bread on the table in front of her, Rhon clears his throat to catch her attention.
"Greetings." Rhon extends his hand in greeting to Saetria. "I am Silver Crusader Rhon Delver. It is a pleasure to meet you. I don't believe I have seen you around here, are you new to the Silver Crusade?"
Standing before you is a male Dwarf who appears to be approaching his middle years. His green eyes are sharp, appearing not to miss a single detail. His hair is black as night and is beard is intricately braided with a silver beard clasp holding it together. His full plate armor is highly polished but dinged and dented from years of adventure and exploration. The shield and axe he leaned up against the table allow you can easily note the holy symbol of Torag emblazoned upon the shield. Rhon has a silver tankard in hand that he is gesturing to you with while greeting you.
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Saetria started and looked up from her inspection of the flute. On a closer view, she appears to look relatively young. Hazel-colored hair is pulled back into a neat braid that stops at the middle of her back, a leather tie securing the ends. Her eyes are dark blue-almost sapphire in color. An intricate gold earcuff can be seen on one ear, and she is wearing a purple tunic and black leggings. The other only pieces of jewelry that can be seen are a rather thick gold ring on the middle finger of her right hand, and a wooden carving of Shelyn's symbol tied around her neck on a silk cord. Her clothes look as if they've seen some heavy usage, but they're clean and well mended. With a flush she sets down the flute-carefully!- in its' wooden case, and acknowledges the dwarf with a bob of her head.
"I am, yes. New to the Silver Crusade and the city."
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"Welcome to the city and to the Silver Crusade. I hope that you will be pleased with both."
"By choice, I am not a warrior. I can do reasonably well in hand-to-hand combat, if needed, but I endeavor to preserve life rather than take it. Please understand that I know killing is often unavoidable. I only pray that killing may be forgivable."
Nonnie blinks back tears.
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Saetria shakes her head, a wry smile crossing her face.
"I am barely of any use in a physical fight. I know just enough to use these-" She gestures to the dagger and to the rapier that are hooked on her hips. "But my primary weapon is what magic I know and this." She gently pats the instrument case.
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You hear the twangs of shamisens and whispers of tian flutes, but you see no band. The music seems to emerge from a nearby roof. A flowing high-collared cape and wide-brimmed jingasa belie the figure's short stature, a crow-man no more than five feet tall. He stands there, arms folded, his right eye covered by an eyepatch, a curved sword at his left hip, and chest and arms covered in sarashi bandages.
He speaks. "The spirits of the heavens, and the peoples of the earth cry out for a hero..."
He opens his eyes, and throws out his arm in a sweeping, grandiose gesture. Even though he has a beak instead of a mouth, you can discern a wild grin on his face.
"Reiji Nakami answers, and the hells tremble!"
"First Master of the School of the Undefeated of the East, Second Sword of Absalom, Enemy of All Evil and Lies, Wielder of the Sword Guren-no-Jiyuu, and Greatest Living Student of Master of Swords Marcos Farabellus, Undefeated of the West."
He dives off the roof, revealing his winged arms as he attempts to glide.
He fails.
He barely avoids crashing head-first into the ground. Seemingly unperturbed, he straightens out his hat and cape, and cleans his outfit with a cantrip.
"Do not worry, Friend!" he says, casually pulling out a wand from his belt, "I have a healing wand I bought for just such occasions!"
He touches the magical implement against his bruised chest, but nothing happens. He attempts a few more times, each attempt more hasty and impatient than the last. He pauses for a moment and turns to you.
"You wouldn't happen to be able to use healing wands, would you?"
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"umm... right i see lots has happened since i left with.... ohh, she never gave her name..."
The huge Tarzan looking human rubs his chin in thought.
"ohh, well i am sure we shall meet again.... but to what i see before me..."
He looks to Reiji and frowns.
"I am sorry talking bird, i do not know how to use that stick...Hey! Doyle he one of yours? I have never seen this before..."
He then looks to Saetria
"right another music player... miss do you run too? like the last one, whom was running down the streets with me a few moments ago?"
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"By all means. Borrow the book if you'd li..." his tail bristles as he climbs up onto the window sill to look down at the tengu. He sighs and belly flops out the window, spreading his arms, and resuming batform to aquire wings that work en route.
"Put that away. You could feed a family in the puddles for a year with what one of those costs" he alights on the crows head. His squeeks pass in and out of the range of human hearing as the crows flesh mends, bones grow back into place, and new feathers start to sprout. "You look a little old to be falling out of the nest"
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Saetria quirks an eyebrow.
"I haven't been running anywhere." She stated bluntly. Turning her attention back to the plate and mug set in front of her, she closed the lid on the instrument case and nodded her thanks to Rhon. The arrival of the odd looking beaked man made her stop as she reached for the mug.
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"Thank you for your assistance, Friend! Do not worry about the expense of this trinket. The wand was actually a gift from the Society for my assistance in rescuing a kidnapped Andoran woman from the clutches of evil."
He looks around, finally everyone is sitting down and partaking of refreshments. You detect a small note of disappointment on his face.
"I see that we are relaxing at the moment. That is good. We must remain hale and hearty for when evil appears once again."
He takes a seat and pulls out a bag with an earthy, bold aroma. He opens it and reveals some kind of dark nuts the size of peanuts, and he begins crunching on a few.
"Ah! Where are my manners."
He offers some to those present.
"Are any of you fans of dry-roasted nuts? Take as much as you like! Though I must admit I am only down to a five pound bag."
On a closer look, you recognize the "nuts" as coffee beans.
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He looks to Saetria.
"Ohh... you use that sliver to defend yourself?" He points to the Rapier on her side. "The last woman whom i was speaking with played her instrument to run fast and with great endurance." His breathing is still a bit hard from what clearly was a long run.
He turns his body to keep the Tengu in view, clearly not knowing what to expect from him.
"What is Kidnap? it sounds like a child going to sleep... i am not familiar with this term." He eyes the tengu carefully. "you know of the bird demons in the corrupted lands to the north of here?"
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"Vrock?" The overarmored paladin looks to Dolok. "This one," she indicated Reiji, "Is not one of them. He is Tengu, from far Tien. Some of them came across the ocean in the time of the Lantern Lodge, and some of those remain with the Society. I have met good warriors, able to fight demons and stand firm."
She gives a strong nod of assent to the hat-wearer, but declines the offer of nuts.
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"vrock... that the term for the bird demons? Hmm, i learn with almost every sentence new things in this land... far Tien? is that south, east, or west? I do know those appear to be beans of some kind and not nuts... for they bear no casing... or was that removed?"
He glances to Bree and nods, his body visibly relaxes a bit.
"now, what is this kidnap?"
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"The armored woman is correct!" He turns to her. "Your knowledge of my people and culture is rare in these parts of the world, and is much appreciated!"
He turns to Dolok. Reiji points somewhere to the northwest. "Tien is in fact in the east." After saying that, he pauses and--after some hard thought--turns to point toward the east.
"Oh, and kidnapping is the vile practice of taking a person against their will into your custody, often violently, and then holding them, perhaps for ransom."
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The huge Kelish man looks on, with a state of confusion. "Right, and what is this... Ransom? It sounds like someone ran a ways...i know of kin bonding, but not sure it is like this term you speak of."
He then looks to the new woman picking at her plate slowly.
"I am Dolok the shield, spear of the slothjaw tribe. May i ask whom you are?"
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He crosses his arms and flushes a bit in embarrassment.
"I suppose this is where i stepped in the drak again... customs being different. I am not used to such petite women in the north either... another oversight on my part i suppose."
(generally just a d20 roll, like normal, some place it after a heading box or not.)
This is a dice expression.
its located under the format at the bottom of the window.
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He nods.
"This place seems to bring a endless stream of new and extraordinary beings to light. From Rhon, the wise and able ale drinker. To Bree, the sword of the goddess Iomedae. To Doyle, whom i think is more then a talking bat... i think. To Reiji, the raven man...err excuse me, Tengu i believe... to the two similar featured women, yourself being one of them... the other whom ran me ragged around town... i think to test my endurance..."
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Saetria shakes her head with a rueful smile, and turns her attention to the case in her lap. Opening it back up, she takes out the silver flute within and a piece of cloth, starting to gently clean the instrument and check it over. It glows softly under the light, and looks Elvish-with graceful runes and carved patterns adorning the metal. After a few minutes of cleaning, she lifts the flute to her lips and blows lightly though it, producing a single clear note.
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Dolok watches the rest of the room carefully to gauge if this type of item bears some other purpose then to make music... he notes how Saetria cares for the metal tube. He thinks back to the run which Bhaena, took him on and wonders if there is some connection between the two. Knowing not to interrupt, he waits and listens.
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"I love music, but never had time to learn, myself. I probably have no talent for it." Her smile is brief, fleeting. "I have, however, found where I do have talent. I thank the Inheritor for that."
She gives Saetria a steady look and a nod. "Please, feel free to play. Perhaps something lively, to which we can drink and keep time?" The paladin shifts the pair of greatswords on her back to better face the table, and signals with coin for drinks to flow freely.
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Saetria nodded at the paladin's request, and pushed her chair back away from the table and towards a nearby corner. Blowing softly through the flute, she moved though a series of warm-up scales. Once everything was set to her satisfaction, she closed her eyes and started to play a melody-the start of a cheerful drinking song.
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The paladin's eyes close and her head nods in time with the lively toon, and as the verse leads to the chorus she picks up a glass. "I'm sorry, but I don't know the words. Is there someone here more a drinker than I am? Perhaps someone, a follower of the Hero, who does know?" She looks around the room hopefully.
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A young man opens the door, coming in from cold. He hears the flute playing and smiles.
"Bless my ears," the gold-haired cleric exclaimed, "The Ballad of the Seventh Paladin. I haven't heard that since my training days at the temple."
He hums a few bars to the song.
"Swiftly, she rode,
with sword in hand,
With eyes a-blaze
and heart still pure"