I'd love to have it but it's a LOT of gold to be invested in Bulvi. On the subject of selling it I doubt anywhere outside at least a large city if not a metropolis could afford it... which is likely deliberate to stop us selling the potential plot ring.
If he gets in I imagine Bulvi will become the guy who opens doors and chests we didn't find a trap on but are dubious about that.
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I like the idea mentioned earlier. We pass the ring around to whomever needs it given the current circumstances. For the most part we let Bulvi wear it. When Quasit decides to sneak around, we let her have it while she does her antics.
I agree...until we make it to this bigger city Nadya has us going to...once there, I'd vote to shop it around.
If we can find a buyer, we can upgrade a lot of armor, weapons, etc. I'm still in my original leather armor as I've been saving to enchant my bow to +1 (which I barely have enough to do but I was thinking I'd have to wait till we get to larger city before I can do that as well)...but that ring might get us all properly equipped...
Oh dear... I... this isn't a ring of regeneration.
I figured it was either cursed or being scryed on. Guess we will find out from Bulvi, huh?
I am worried he'sgoing to get spell resistance that he can't turn off to healing magic.
Hace doesnt know he has magic yet and he wouldn't scan all your items even if he did unless there was a reason to, but maybe he'll figure it out sometime
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Just a head's up. I'll be on a cruise for a week starting this Saturday so my posting will be spotty at best; please bot me if I'm holding things up. Three of the places we're porting, I'm supposed to have coverage so, hopefully, I should be able to post several times but there's no guarantee...
Quasit, if you wish to bot Fin when needed, please feel free to do so...you did an awesome job of botting Selena...
My work schedule is wildly different from normal this week, so my posting might be spotty at times.
Back to normal posting for me.
Just a heads up GM, next level Hace is picking up a revelation that allows him to use 1 free casting of divination every night in his sleep. I've never really been able to use divination magic before, but I've seen some examples of people abusing it to insane levels that I'm definitely not aiming for. Either way, I read a suggestion that I should inform my GM that it could be coming up so that they can plan for it.
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I feel like I need to apologize for Quasit being unusually dramatic and cowardly. She's not usually the sort to hide while a fight is still going on, but there are some unusual circumstances at work here. The main one is that if she hits -6, she is dead-dead, thanks to this effing curse which she doesn't even realize she has yet, so right now she is one arrow from worm food, and as a player that makes me nervous. I'm also trying to role-play the fact that her low con is just making her feel crappy and off her game, and that's affecting both her ability to withstand pain and her morale.
So my apologies for being wussy. Once she's decursed, she should start acting braver. Although with all these rough fights that are repeatedly bringing her to death's door, eventually she's going to get into some serious PTSD territory.
As soon as we find out you have a curse and I either get a scroll or hit level 6, I'll decurse you. -6 CON is brutal.
@maka, just curious. What's your plan with the monk/kineticist multiclass? Like, what was the dip for?
I'll be picking up Elemental Blade at Kineticist Lv 5, which I plan to fluff as both fire daggers and fire punches. Going for a bit of a switch hitter build. The Monk dip is to assist with the melee. Sets me up for Crane Style, gives me unarmed strike, Wis to AC, etc.
The firebender monk element was always a part of Maka's concept. I actually created her before the Kineticist was released. The Elemental Ascetic archetype trades away a bit too much for what it gains, and I don't like that it doesn't let you use ranged kinetic blasts. The dip better gives me the monk elements I'm looking for
Got it. Sounds cool although I'm a fan of elemental ascetic with all the new options in the martial artist handbook.
I've been enjoying RPing an Oracle learning that they have magic rather than just starting play and accepting it like it is completely normal.
I'm planing to go double fire, so I'll probably still get kinetic fist to help bypass spell immunity and resistance. Likely at lv 7. However, not targeting Touch AC, not getting a second +d6 until Kineticist 11, on top of not getting getting blast modifiers really hurts its. So I won't put much focus on it until high levels.
I agree it's been a lot of fun RPing the reactions of magic just happening. There are so many options at this point that even being able to point to you being an oracle still leaves a lot of questions.
We should definitely do a training scene where we comically attempt to figure out Hace's abilities.
Desna makes lunar oracles; I'm thinking Hace just found his divine source. I can't think of anything he currently has that really ties him to Desna or her domains so I don't think he would figure that out right now.
Camping out at a Temple of Desna seems a good opportunity for Desna to send a dream or two Hace's way. This AP is basically nothing but Travel so definitely some room to tie things to her domain(s).
Well if we leveled up to 5, I'd be automatic writing divination in my sleep. Who gives me magic would probably be my first question and now would be the perfect time to do so. (Not asking for a level though, just an observation).
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Quasit you feel like destroying that doll didn't do much for the spirit but that Sapphire eye might have her soul in it
Out of character, this is precisely the problem. Quasit knows we didn't destroy that sapphire at the time, and she's always felt uncomfortable about that. It got shoved to the back burner because we had bigger fish to fry, and no one seemed keen at the time to smash a valuable bit of loot. Having Maka confront her directly about it churned that guilt right back up, but good.
She doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to admit the full truth. Thus her uncomfortable reaction to the question. She knows the right thing to do is to destroy that sapphire. She is feeling guilty because that hasn't been done, and she's been reminded now how bad that looks. Especially since she doesn't want to look bad in the eyes of these particular newcomers.
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its not so much just destroying it, here you have ground that you could ritualize a burial to put a soul at rest then destroy the gem as well, yes that removes 600 gold, but its also weighed against some consciousness, its not part of the AP, but with how this game is playing it seems appropriate as an option
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Dicebot, whatever we did we are sorry.
Well Maka is now definitely on a quest to get a tropical drink in an arctic environment.
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In Absalom, a few weeks ago...
Janira walked into the Pig’s Paunch and found Nevar sitting alone at a corner table, stirring his fine elven brandy with the end of a writing stylus. He seemed lost in thought, but was not startled when she came up to his table and slid onto a seat.
“I wanted to talk to you about Mina,” she said, coming straight to the point. She could tell he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.
He sighed, stopped stirring his drink, and in a swift motion gulped down the contents of the glass. Carefully replacing the empty glass on the table, he spoke through a thin haze of inebriation with careful enunciation.
“She prefers to go by Quasit these days, as you know. And that’s the one topic I’d really rather not discuss just now.”
“Do you know where she is?” asked Janira as she signaled to the bartender for two new brandies to be brought to the table.
“Nope.” he said, with a touch of anger. “We had a falling out and she left Absolam, as I suspect you already know. She didn’t tell me where she was going. Probably back to Cassomir though. She’s devoted to her father.”
“Well, then I’ll have to talk to you. I won’t bother you long. I want to know why she left the Society.”
Never snorted, his lip curling in a sardonic grin. “I was led to understand that her services were no longer required.”
“Well, the reports say she was rough around the edges, but believe me, we get a lot worse. I mean… well, you can imagine… at least she spoke Common and didn’t have horns or hooves and didn’t burst into flames periodically. But no, she just up and quit. So we have to follow up. We have a lot of enemies, some of whom aren’t afraid to recruit defectors…”
“She wouldn’t do that.” said Nevar definitively.
“Oh?”
The drinks arrived. Nevar took his and chuckled.
“She has a very peculiar sense of honor. You see that a lot in people raised in the underworlds of our fair cities. The more they indulge in crime and thuggery, the more they cling to a few irrelevant principles. She’s no exception. She’d never be a snitch. She might join the Aspis, but she’d never tell them anything. Nothing important anyway. She’d get mouthy about it too, if they tried pushing it.”
“Her brother talked.” said Janira off-handedly. Nevar looked at her in mild surprise.
“So you heard that story?”
Janira nodded, then looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Nevar shrugged. “All the more reason, I’d say. She loved her brother, but she was nothing like him, and even though she hated the cult he’d joined, she viewed his confessions about it as weakness. Ironically that only made her love him more. She was always sort of protective of Nardo. It was a whole family thing.”
“See, this is why I need to talk to you. We know a lot about Mina… er, Quasit. But you know her.”
“I thought I did. I’m not so sure any more.” said Nevar lightly. He took a sip, savoring its fire.
“So you were surprised when she left?”
Nevar looked at her with mild amusement. “Are you being intentionally vague to see what I say?”
Janira considered this, then arched her eyebrows in resignation. “I suppose I was, without meaning too.”
Nevar exhaled deeply. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. What do you want to know?” He plopped his elbows onto the table and rested his chin on his crossed fingers, looking hard at her.
“Do you know why she left the Society?”
“Boredom. And bad manners. She doesn’t like being told what to do, and she thinks she knows everything. She also harbors this fantasy about herself that she’s incurably lazy, though from what I’ve seen the opposite is true. And she doesn’t really like killing, and we are invariably involved in killing people. She’s not exactly squeamish about it, not at the time she’s doing it, but she’s got one of those obsessive minds that thinks about it for days afterward, trying to justify it. Oh the talks she and I had. She only got into one scrape on a Society mission, and she had to defend herself, and a man was killed, and she had a part in it. She didn’t like it, and she had a hard time dealing with it. And you know how it is. That became the seed of a thousand other little discontents.”
“We all have had missions that didn’t go the way we expected.” she said, empathizing. There was a long pause between them, then Janira tried a new tack.
“I know a fair amount about her father. A small timer in Cassomir, got arrested for theft and had his hand cut off, has struggled with alcohol ever since.”
“So does she, though she doesn’t admit it.” said Nevar. “So do I for that matter. But she was utterly devoted to him. I met him once. He is actually a decent and charming fellow most of the time. But weak. You can smell the weakness on him. Life has beaten him. He doesn’t care any more.”
“We also know a bit about the brothers. Both the one who was executed and the one who’s still running rackets in Cassomir. She wasn’t all that close to the other one, was she?”
“Colin. No, not really. Once her father finally dies, I doubt she’ll ever go back to Cassomir again. It’s not a nice place to live, really.”
“No, that’s true enough, I’ve been there. The whole place smells like rotting wood and urine. But we don’t know anything about her mother. She lived with her mother in Varisia until she was 16, then suddenly picked up one day and ran off into the wilds and never looked back. Do you know why?”
“They didn’t get along.” said Nevar with a shrug. “Why does any kid run away from home?”
“Was she abused? Mistreated?” persisted Janira.
“No, not in the way you mean.” answered Nevar impatiently. “They just didn’t get along. And one day she got fed up and bored and ran off. But when she ran into the big bad world just beyond her doorstep, instead of running back home like most kids would do, she got proud and determined about it, and resolved that going back was the one thing she would never do. It’s a miracle she lived. Can you imagine? A skinny little 16 year old girl wandering the wilds of Varisia for weeks, hundreds of miles, barefoot most of the time, no money, no possessions, wearing a few stolen clothes? But somehow she made it. She’s actually quite proud of that part of her life. I think that’s probably why she was interested in joining the Society in the first place — she missed that whiff of adventure and freedom. She was getting boxed into a sort of drab criminal existence in Cassomir and she didn’t like it. She wanted to be on the road again, living by her wits, beating the bad guys at their own game.”
“Did you join the Society because of her?”
“Talking about me wasn’t part of the deal.” said Nevar with a sly look. “But I don’t mind. No, I planned to join before I had met her, but I had an apprenticeship to finish first. She came here hoping to get into a shipping business, believe it or not. But Absalom has plenty of shipping already, and no one was interested in hiring a skinny girl with no experience. I don’t think she really knows anything about the shipping business anyway. But she knows she’s good at winning people over, and imagines that she can close deals with merchants and make good profits doing it. But she has no experience with any particular commodity beyond the sort of things her brother was smuggling. That was just beginning to sink in with her when we met and she heard about the Society. After that she forgot about shipping. She was going to be an adventurer. A hero. She craves that sort of affirmation. She wants to believe she’s a good person. And that’s why the killing was so hard for her. That’s the fundamental problem we all have to face, isn’t it? That sometimes, being a hero and being good involves killing, which our bodies and souls revolt against.”
“Let’s get back to her mother. Julietta. That’s her name, right? Is she still alive?”
Nevar shrugged. “As far as I know. When Quasit left, Julietta was in perfect health and just beginning to enter her middle age. But that was, what? Six or seven years ago?”
He sighed wearily. “So, you want to know what I know about Julietta, so you can report back to your masters that you’ve fully investigated this girl who ran off from the job of being your loyal operative, is that it? Well, I obviously never met the woman, and good luck to anyone trying to find her. Like a lot of Varisians, she wanders about with her new husband and a few dozen others like her, a little gypsy band eking out an existence on the fringes of society.”
“That sounds like the free life you described Quasit as yearning for.” observed Janira. “So why leave?”
“I told you. They didn’t get along. And anyway, she couldn’t be the star of the show with her mother around.”
“Julietta is a con artist at heart, meaning that she prefers to lie, even when she doesn’t have to. Quasit is a good liar, but she prefers the truth. Julietta’s favorite role is to play the stereotypical Varisian fortune teller. Harrow cards, palms, tea leaves, the whole ridiculous package. From what I can tell, Quasit gets her looks from her mother — Julietta was one of those severe yet sensual dark-haired beauties. Tanned skin and almond shaped eyes. She’d be one of those women who would smile at anyone who looked at her. A casual and mysterious sort of woman that men find irresistible. Full of all sorts of folk wisdoms. Quasit never talked much about her mother, but she’d often let slip things her mother had said. One I remember just know is this little chestnut: If you are dreaming, and you see your reflection in a mirror, it will be bad luck. Isn’t that charming? Just the sort of nonsense you could almost believe was true. I have no doubt she’s very good at hoodwinking people. Like all serial liars, she’s able to completely believe whatever she’s saying, even if on some level she knows it isn’t true. Because when you’re a liar, it doesn’t matter — the truth is just what you need it to be at that moment.”
“And Quasit resented that?”
Nevar thought about that. “Not exactly.” he finally said, slowly. “I mean, sometimes probably, when she was on the receiving end of it. Anyone would. But it was so ordinary and natural in that strange little group that she lived with, I think that part seemed normal. Even admirable in some ways. Her mother was a con artist, but she was a good con artist, and that was something to hang your hat on, I suppose. No, Quasit never complained about her mother being a liar or a phony.”
“So why didn’t they get along?”
Here Nevar became quiet, and his hostility melted a bit. When he spoke again about the woman who’d broken his heart, it was with real pity.
“Julietta was a cold woman. She could just turn off the love in an instant, when it suited her. And Mina was an inconvenience. When Julietta left her husband and run off with this gypsy minstrel, she left the brothers but she took Mina, who was I think about 8 years old at the time. Dragged her halfway across Avistan so they could live out of a wagon and wander empty roads. But I don’t think either of them ever understood exactly why she did it. Just to be spiteful to the husband she abandoned? To protect Mina from his drinking (because he was already a hopeless alcoholic)? Because she fancied having a daughter to sculpt into her own image? Because the gypsy minstrel she ran off with told her to? I imagine she probably entertained all those theories to herself as rationalizations over the years that followed, but like a lot of things, I think it just sort of happened. I don’t think there was a reason.”
“And after that, the little girl was just sort of in the way, this thing left over from a previous life that she wanted to forget. She and the minstrel wanted children of their own. Mina didn’t like that. I gather they were planning to marry her off to someone else in the caravan, just to get rid of her, to get her out of their wagon. It didn’t really matter who. It might have even been someone in one of the towns they sometimes passed through. Quasit said the minstrel owed money to a tinker, and was going to sell her off to cancel the debt. I don’t know if that’s true, she can sometimes be melodramatic. But it’s not impossible.”
“Does Quasit hate her mother?” asked Janira, ignoring the fact that Nevar had called her Mina.
The raven-haired mage smiled and shook his head. “It’s always complicated with mothers and daughters, isn’t it? Like fathers and sons, but more subterranean. She loves her mother and hates her, and the two elements are all mixed together. If she simply hated her, it wouldn’t be hard for her to talk about it. She’d never shut up about her mother if that were the case. Quasit is never short of opinions. I think it’s the most painful thing in her life — that her mother stole her from her father, and then made it clear that she didn’t really care all that much about her. It’s given her this deep inferiority complex. She thinks of herself as a useless nobody — not pretty or special in any way. It didn’t matter how many times I told her she was lovely or that I thought she was a talented and thrilling person to be around. She will never believe it. That’s why she wants to be a hero. And it’s why she craves freedom — to escape this cage of inferiority that’s she’s built around herself. It’s only when she’s living at the edge, beyond all her normal expectations, that she can forget that’s she just a nameless, worthless girl.”
“Is that why she chose the new name? To stop being nameless?”
“Hmm. Interesting, I hadn’t considered that.” said Nevar. “She would tell you she had to change her name because she was wanted in Taldor and Absolam. She would also tell you it was a pet name I gave her that just sort of stuck to her. But yes, you may have something. I may have picked the name, but something in her wanted a new identity, and not just as a way too dodge the city guards.”
“Mina is a Varisian word. It means kitten. Or little cat. Something diminutive and condescending. Throw a rock in Varisia and you’ll hit a girl named Mina. And it actually sort of fits her. She is a little cat. A slinky, stubborn, independent little cat who wants to come and go as she pleases. But she doesn’t like being reminded she’s part Varisian.”
“Because she doesn’t like being reminded that she’s her mother’s daughter.” said Janira with a slow nod.
Nevar nodded back. “And all daughters become their mothers, don’t they?”
They returned to silence. Janira took her first sip of the brandy, holding it on her tongue for a long time, letting it sink in. Nevar leaned back, and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, squinting tightly. “I came here to drink away a headache. It’s not working. I think I blame you. You know, when I saw you come in, I hoped you were going to tell me you had another mission for me. But tonight I was the mission, wasn’t I? Am I too damaged and unpredictable to use?”
Janira shook her head. “Don’t be silly. You’ve only been back two weeks from a mission that lasted almost 8 months. Everyone needs time to recuperate and refocus. Even if they don’t know it.”
“I recuperated on the boat.”
“It’s not the same.”
Never grimaced and sighed. “No, I suppose not.” he admitted.
Janira looked at him sympathetically. “You still miss her.”
“Of course I do. I’m still in love with her. I’d give anything to have her back. Even after everything that’s happened. I’m her slave.”
He looked up at the ceiling to avoid looking at her.
“Do you know, I have this really horrible recurring fantasy. I find her again, and I use magic on her. Charm her. Force her to love me again. And every night, after she falls asleep, I cast the spell again, so that she’ll still love me tomorrow. And it goes on like that forever. And the spell takes such a hold that eventually it becomes impossible for her to resist it. But I never stop casting the spell. Because I know if I do, then it would all be over, and I would never ever see her again. In that scenario, is she the slave, or am I?”
“It will pass, Nevar. The pain. It doesn’t seem like it now, but time has a way of taking the sting out of our failures and betrayals. And you wouldn’t do that to her. Not really.”
Nevar looked at her, a sardonic look on his face. “You may be an experienced Pathfinder, and you may work for Creighton Shane, but you have a lot to learn about wizards Janira. For us there are no rules. That’s the whole secret of magic. It looks like a lot of ritual and strict incantation, but that’s a diversion. The essence of magic is that we walk into a landscape of dreams and fantasies, and we pluck the flowers we desire and bring them back with us. For us, no temptation is off limits. It’s only a matter of how long we can hold our breath, as it were.”
“I hope I never see her again. For her sake. And mine.”
After saying this, Nevar got up and walked out without another word. Janira finished her drink and did the same.
That was great.
Sorry to hear that. All my GMs are injuring themselves lately.
Question about the licenses for Whitethrone. Did we need a license to get in to the city and/or are we posing as merchants? Didn't remember anything about that.
@Sakitu You're a bit color blind bud.
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Question about the licenses for Whitethrone. Did we need a license to get in to the city and/or are we posing as merchants? Didn't remember anything about that.
I don't think we quite know the answer to this yet. We're following Nadya McGuffin to her family/friend just outside Whitethrone and I'm guessing that's where we'll learn our options for actually getting into the city, if we even need to.
Our overriding mission, aside from evading the wrath of the witch whose tower we trashed, is to find Baba Yaga, which means looking for her weird chicken-leg hut. I'm guessing we're also going to pick up at the trail when this walk is over.
Cool beans