Ah... she of the slowly rolling eyes... well is she named... Arianwyn thinks.
Whiteclaw has stayed quiet during the performance doing her best to, well, basically blend in. However, she does answer the question about the group. "We've known each other for a while."
Rev
"how grand, that's what I used to dream of doing. always made toy weapons, hammers and such for my friends when we were growing up. I don't see why you shouldn't follow your dream, maybe once you own this place you can hire someone to run it while you work on your craft. oh, our group is quite odd. We have known each other a long time indeed, been through a lot together as well. "
Roswitha offers a friendly hand to Whiteclaw. "It's nice to meet you. I've met a few gnolls, but never a white one. I hope the bath's big enough for you. I did give you one of the large beds in case you wanted to stretch out properly."
She looks up from her own four and half foot perspective to Whiteclaw's imposing seven foot stretch.
Rev** spoiler omitted **
Reason
As he copies the copies, Reason feels sure he's missing something. Increasingly tantalised, he looks closer, but the runes do not give up their secrets so easily.
Whiteclaw blinks, honestly suprised at the kindness. "Thank you." she says, extending her hand. "I appreciate your concern for my comfort."
"You're quite welcome. It can't be easy being as tall as you." Roswitha seems genuinely unconcerned by Whiteclaw's race. She flashes a smile at Gobi.
"If you were staying long enough, maybe you could tell me more about metalwork. You have no idea how bored I get with keeping the accounts sometimes." She raises a finger to her lips, as Riordan finishes his poem and claps politely.
"I liked that one better," she comments.
Riordan opens his hands to the audience. "My thanks for your reception of my work. I would welcome questions."
A scholarly man leans forward. "You seem to be working within an archaic sonnet scheme in your first poem. May I ask why you chose that particular form?"
Murmuring agreement comes from the assembled guests and the conversation becomes technical. As the noise level starts to rise, Narissa stands up and joins Riordan for a moment, whispering a few words in his ear and looking at Arianwyn. He also glances at the eladrin for a moment before nodding and smiling up at Narissa. Sweetly heady perfume heralds her approach and shortly afterwards, she joins the group, extending a welcoming hand to the warlock before pulling him into a close embrace.
"Arianwyn, my dear love. You can't have been here long. This charming hotel is still standing."
Arianwyn smiles, the first time the group may have seen him smile without affectation. "Narissa, my sweet," he says warmly, "As perceptive as ever."
"Always. Where would my charm be if my perception failed?"
Keeping her hand lightly on his arm, she turns to the group. "It would be inexcusably rude to reminisce amongst your companions - for I see (perceptively) that you are companions. Would you grant me the pleasure of your company before you leave, my love?"
"In the meantime, perhaps you would introduce me and tell me what you think of Riordan's verses?"
Her smile includes everyone as she adds with a laugh in her voice, "I think him talented, but Arianwyn knows well, I was ever blind when beguiled."
Arianwyn laughs warmly as well, "Permit me to introduce my comrades in arms, Gobi, valiant and stout of heart, and Whiteclaw, courage embodied."
He turns and looks at Riordan, before turning back to Narissa, "He is indeed a great talent. And yes, we shall indeed reminisce more in private."
"I am honoured to meet you all and would be delighted to invite you all to lunch with me."
Roswitha makes a tiny sound that might be a squeak and whispers quickly to Gobi.
Gobi
"You must have made a huge impression on her! Or your friend must have done. She never, ever invites people to lunch when she first meets them. Go. She's the nicest woman you'll ever meet and if she likes you she can open all kinds of doors in Namarth for you."
Narissa watches with amusement in her eyes. "Dear Roswitha, you should join us. I believe I may be able to help you."
She glances around, her acute social senses feeling an impending lull in the conversation. "Arianwyn, do you still perform? I know we said we wouldn't reminisce," she adds to the others, "but some things should be shared if the giver is willing."
"Ah, and Seraphiel, formerly the Rogue Knight, and formerly... well, he shall tell you more of that." Arianwyn says with a mischievous smile, on introducing the angelic deva.
"I have not performed for some while, but I should be glad to now. What arrangements must be made?" he asks Narissa.
Clapping her hands softly in delight, Narissa swiftly embraces Arianwyn again. "I knew my perception hadn't mislead me. You may have new and extraordinary companions - and believe me, love, extraordinary they must be - but you've not changed that much. Tell me, what do you need?"
Arianwyn
Gobi nods and smiles at Roswitha "I believe we shall be here for some time. I will tell you what I know of course."
He bows his heads to the introductions
"I am always ready for lunch. It is nice to meet you indeed." he tugs at his vest a little bit pondering what the effects of a meal will have on his nicely fitted garment. He also smiles when Roswitha is invited to the meal as well. "Of course she'll come, right? He says looking to Roswitha.
Roswitha is beyond speech. She just nods as though her entire world had been stood on its head.
"You're really going to stay for a little while?" she asks hopefully.
Arianwyn grins and replies, "I need naught but the stage, my darling. It shall be of my own composition."
Narissa's own grin is a matching pair with Arianwyn's. "Done."
Turning to the assembled company, she raises her hand briefly and silence falls.
"Dear guests and fellow connoisseurs of the extraordinary, forgive my lapse in manners in abandoning you for so long. My only excuse is the return of a dear and talented friend. I have prevailed upon him to add to the delights this evening has already offered us. Arianwyn, the stage is yours."
Offering her arm to Riordan, she embraces the whole room with her smile and seats herself again in the front row of the chairs. Riordan's face lights up with pleasure as he joins her, bowing to the warlock and saying warmly, "My lady was certain you would accept and I see that her judgment was a wise one."
Arianwyn returns the bow, "She is wise indeed, and your own performance is proof of that." he replies.
Arianwyn walks onto the stage and kneels downstage centre.
He lowers his head and speaks in a soft tone that nonetheless carries to the back of the room, his voice a croon of longing (in Elven throughout):
"Ién'ëven ëenbú räyingpí órfen ósen onglé, orfën ymën ëártha ótën eepcä émen tróngsë. Ién'even eenbé ívingló vërydayeth, hísté aywën,"
He rises as if seeing the sunrise or a new star in the heavens, looking out over the audience:
"Ównën Íen áncën'tën ëlíeveba tíën'sen ruetú, saén Ïen'mën óúchedtï ybën ométhïngsë éwnen, ndáën heten ëärstä allfë romfä ymén yeseth, ymën yeseth!" he cries, enraptured.
Moving like a jungle cat, he gently raises his arm as if in supplication to Narissa and continues:
"Äncén'ten óuyën eesen éwen rëáen neóen, órfen hétén óúlsé hínëssú noen ndäen noen. Heytá'llën elievebï säén Iën odén…" he says in a simple declaration of love.
As if in a plea to the gods themselves, his very body the embodiment of desire and adoration, he cries aloud:
"Hénwí oúyén hïnésï noen emen
Hënwí oúyén hínesó noën émen
Ïthwé héten íghtlú foën ovëlé, nïen oúrya yéseth. Nién óuryí yésëth!"
His hands crackle with the white-blue fire that you have come to know so well, and his eyes glow with the same colour, and as quickly as it has appeared, it is gone.
The eladrin falls to his knees in the same position he began in.
His final words in the piece are said in the common tongue, in so quiet a tone it seems they should not be heard, but they are:
"Love has enemies."
Elven
Now I can't believe it's true, as I'm touched by something new, and the tears fall from my eyes, my eyes.
Can't you see we are one, for the soul shines on and on.
They'll believe as I do…
When you shine on me
When you shine on me
With the light of love, in your eyes. In your eyes ;)
At the conclusion of Arianwyn's performance, a little silence falls, as though the audience is unwilling to break the spell. Then Riordan rises, faces the eladrin and applauds with the intensity of one craftsman acknowledging another.
As if they've been given a cue, the rest of the audience joins him. Her face unreadable, Narissa steps forward and curtseys.
"You have rewarded us beyond measure." For a second, it looks as if she might say more, but suddenly her face breaks into laughter, "Oh, how I have missed you."
"Honoured guests, let us continue. Who will follow in the footsteps of the great? Who will add their names to the lustre of this evening?"
Arianwyn bows low in acknowledgement of his audience, and goes over to Riordan and shakes his hand. He bows to Narissa and smiles.
Roswitha's face is a picture of bafflement as she watches Arianwyn's performance. Involuntarily backing up between the comforting height of Whiteclaw and Gobi's cheering presence, she looks up at them both.
"That was ... different," she says tactfully, finally finding her voice. "Is he often like this?"
Roswitha's face is a picture of bafflement as she watches Arianwyn's performance. Involuntarily backing up between the comforting height of Whiteclaw and Gobi's cheering presence, she looks up at them both.
"That was ... different," she says tactfully, finally finding her voice. "Is he often like this?"
"That is a new one to me."
Under Narissa's expert guidance, others in the audience come forward. The scholarly man you saw earlier recites some passionate verses on the subject of his garden and is followed to the floor by an overly flamboyant youth clearly desperate to make an impression on Narissa.
Riordan shrugs slightly at the sight and joins Arianwyn.
"I've got some sympathy, but not enough to tell him that improving his verse will increase his chances of attracting her attention. What brings you to Namarth?" he adds, changing the subject.
"I'm not so crass as to ask when you're leaving, I hope you'll notice. My lady is her own creature always. We are blessed to share her company and jealousy has no place in her world."
Roswitha shakes her head, looking as if she's like to disagree but not quite daring to.
The gnoll makes a little chuckle about it not being easy being tall. "I've never reallt noticed any issues with it, but I rarely spend time in places that it could matter." Narissa's initial words to Arianwyn, epsecially the 'my dear love', do draw the gnoll's attention, and when she is introuduced
Whiteclaw nods politely to Narissa. "It's nice to meet you." However, she snorts a little at being called 'courage embodied'
She is suprised by the poem, and makes a quiet remark to Gobi. "I wish Vel were here to see this." And, she nods in agreement to Gobi's answer of Roswitha's question.
Reason tries to see if Kia is available.
Arianwyn smiles in a friendly manner and replies to Riordan, "A little scholarly matter; my other colleagues are of a learned bent and are here on some errand. I myself came to reaquaint myself with Namarth, and certain of its features."
"I wish Vel were here to see this."
"Aye, Vel isn't going to believe us when we try to tell the story later."
"Aye, Vel isn't going to believe us when we try to tell the story later.""I wish Vel were here to see this."
After a long bath and a keen inspection of her room, Kia finally appears to join the others.
"Have I missed the poetry? Oh, what a pity. Maybe next time."
"Reason, I would like to speak with you about the books that you mentioned earlier if I may. I find I have some time on my hands now and it would be good if you could tell me what you know of them."
She notices Narissa.
"And you are...? A friend of Arianwyn? How wonderful."
Roswitha taps Kia gently. "If you're looking for your tiefling friend, I think he's still upstairs. I haven't seen him yet this evening."
Narissa claps as the latest poet finishes and comes to answer the warlord's question.
"Yes, we are old friends and it is joy to see him again, particularly in such good company. Forgive me if I return to the fray," she casts a quizzical glance at the mingling guests, "but please feel free to join us for lunch if you would enjoy it."
As she whirls back to her duties, she raises an amused eyebrow at Riordan and Arianwyn. "Looking for allies my darlings?" she murmurs for their ears alone.
"There is strength in numbers, after all." Arianwyn counters jovially.
Seraphiel allows the memories of his thousand lifetimes to inform him as he bows to Narissa and greets Roswitha. He has heard so much poetry and seen so many women like these. In Narissa he sees the courtesans of old reborn and wonders for a moment is she too might be a deva.
Reason continues to trace the copies, more and more infuriated as he looks at the ancient runes which refuse to give up their secrets to him.
A discreetly dressed, middle-aged man approaches Narissa, holding out a small package. "I am requested to offer you this work. It is as unique as you are, Lady."
With her customary grace, Narissa takes the package and curtseys her thanks to the donor. He bows politely. "I beg that you will open it and read the title page."
Without another word he leaves the "Way with Words".
Narissa looks after him and opens the parcel. As the shape suggests, it contains a book and her face brightens as she looks at it.
"Why look! It is rare that so many treasures come my way in a single evening. "Taerastysraer". Vido's greatest work." Her astonishment and joy are both quite plain. She opens the book ...
Elven for "Metamorphoses" - apologies for the bad joke and mangled naming.
Kia
Arianwyn bangs the book shut before she can read.
"Hold, Narissa. Something is wrong here. May I?" He asks, indicating that he wishes to inspect the book (closed!).
"A man who praises you by rote is not one I would willingly trust," Arianwyn says meaningfully, "And it strikes me that there is something harmful in his insistence that you read it. A joke, mayhap. Or perhaps something fouler."
Kia/Reason
Seraphiel
Arianwyn
Arianwyn's swift action takes Narissa by surprise and she hands him the volume. Riordan moves quickly towards her and pulls her into his arms.
As the covers slam shut, tendrils of arcane mist ooze from the pages and wrap themselves around Narissa in a foul embrace, turning her translucent and dragging her towards the book. Her eyes go wide and she manages to gasp "Magic indeed ..."
Arianwyn's eyes grow wide in interest and alarm. "You can indeed sometimes judge a book by its cover." he says dryly.
Arianwyn
As you correctly guessed, the book is an elaborate arcane trap. It's function is to pull Narissa into its pages where she will be used as fuel for something stronger. Something is seeking charisma. Lots of charisma.
Even as you understand this, you also realise that there is a second and deadlier layer to the enchantment. As Narissa is removed from this world, something else will take her place. You also know with absolute certainty that destroying the book will destroy Narissa, leaving only whatever she is replaced with to ravage the area.
Your best hope to untangling the mystery is to fend off whatever is coming and keep the book safely. If you act fast, you may be able to prevent the book from pulling Narissa in.
Riordan watches in shock as Narissa is pulled inexorably away from him, leaping madly towards the book and pulling it from Arianwyn's grasp,
"Get her back!"
At his touch, the arcane mist coils spitefully around him, streaking him with eldritch power as Narissa's body fades even more and the tendrils start to thicken again. The poet drops the book in horror as his flesh burns and against his will he starts to scream.
In an instant the Atrium is full of panicking people, unable to realise what is going on.
All
When she hears the sounds of panic, Vel grabs up a robe and her orb and hurries downstairs.
Arcana 1d20+11=30, Insight 1d20+11=25
Endurance3 1d20+3=21, Heal 1d20+6=10
Additional Bonus to Heal 1d8=8
Seraphiel looks within himself and calls on his past selves to help him resolve the situation.
Seraphiel
Seraphiel adds his arcane knowledge to Arianwyn's. Moving swiftly to Riordan, he uses his skill to bypass the eldritch power crackling around the poet and pulls him free.
"Well done!" Arianwyn calls to the deva, "All of you, do not touch the book! Narissa will be killed if we destroy it! Gobi - calm them down if you can. Whiteclaw - your strength will be useful now!"
Stretching out his mind to the book, Arianwyn tries to divine the threads of power...
Opening his mind to the book, Arianwyn reaches out, following the thread of power to the source. The trail is easy to follow, almost too easy, as the eladrin realises when a warning tendril smacks hard into his mind, forcing him back. He hears a faint hint of gloating laughter as he is pushed aside.
Whiteclaw hadn't really paid any attention to the delivery, but starts to react when the book becomes a tentacle book!!
She starts to reach for her new axe, but Arianwyn's words put a halt to that, and, instead, she moves forward to help however she is able.
Throwing herself at the rapidly disipating form of Narissa, Whiteclaw forces herself to ignore the eldritch chill pushing her away. Calling on all her knowledge of pain and how to survive it, she clings on. The mist writhes and bites deep, but cannot overcome the gnoll's courage.