FAWTL Part 2: Wrath of the Righteous Take Two!

Game Master Jess Door

For several weeks, excitement has been building in Kenabres - Armasse is coming!

While the significance of the holiday has waned over much of the world since the death of Aroden, Iomedae’s followers still celebrate this festival, though it has become more about training the populace in weapons use, brave knights choosing new squires to train for the Crusade, and the ordination of priests than the gathering of clerics and scholars to ponder the lessons and meaning of history.

Kenabres’ citizenry are always ready for battle, but on this morning the armed and armored citizens roaming the streets have smiles on their faces and a certain bounce in their step, instead of the down cast eyes, strained expressions and heavy gait that is the more usual day to day sight. Weapons are sheathed nonchalantly, often festooned with bright ribbons on the hilt or haft representing some heraldry or another, and it is apparent from the glint of sunlight off many a knight or armsman’s polished armor that most everyone has made an effort to make the best impression they can for the day.

While the official opening ceremony isn’t scheduled to happen until noon, if this Armasse is like any other, Clydwell Plaza will be full at least half an hour earlier. The jousting matches and combat trials, as well as many performers providing more entertainments that Kenabres has seen in the previous year will begin once Lord Hulrun has officially blessed the festivities.

Street vendors can be heard calling attention to their wares before dawn fully breaks and every shopkeeper has his best ready for the crowds that are already beginning to fill the streets.

Take a moment to introduce your character, and talk about what you plan to do for the morning.

dressed naught but the most sensible attire for such an occasion(an old-but-serviceable [note- not hipster vintage!!!!!] parade armor worn over a tunic and many-pocketed vest), this young gnome has an assortment of sharp, dangerous and strange-looking gewgaws protuding from the heavy duty travellers backpack she wears like an upright turtle would its shell. A banner flutters from each of these weapons, all advertising the apothecary she either runs or works for. She views the crowd with mild interest, but pauses regularly to scribble furiously into a small notebook with a piece of charcoal. She always wipes her hands clean after each entry and finds a reflective surface to check her deep red, improbably coiffed hair in

[muttering to herself]I should have gone with the mouse skulls today...its almost long enough for me to pull off the Pixieplague's look....[/muttering to herself]

[Calling out to passersby] Salves! Solutions! Notions! Potions! If Okone's Apothecary doesn't have it you don't need it! Now taking orders! Salves! Solutions.... [/calling out to passersby]

Kipkas going to be advertising for her fathers apothecary all morning-great way to meet fellow pcs and npcs of note

Ionnia is wearing her scale mail armour (paladin party-wear), albeit without a helmet on since she wants to keep her long red hair down during the festivities. Her shield has her own coat of arms (four squares, with the top-left and bottom right being white with the symbol of Shelyn, and the other two purple with a boar's head in the upper-right and a beehive in the lower-left) painted on it.

She's got an anticipatory smile on her face, eagerly awaiting the chance to see what Kenabres has to offer once she, her mentor Kaseyennia, and Willow has gotten through the city's gates.

*Turning excitedly to Willow* "Have you been to Kenabres before, Willow? Any idea what one should go look at? Do you think I should get one of those ribbons for my sword? I wonder if we'd have gotten through faster if we'd gone in by the south gate..."

Ionnia will basically do what Kaseyennia tells her to - but not until she's made an attempt to have that be "see the sights and have some fun and we'll meet up at the opening ceremony."

Having arrived early that day with Ionnia, acting as her porter, the artiste knows that she already spend most of her spare coin and needs to make a bit more. The knights' question brings a quick and frank response to her travelling companion; "I've never been here, it's beautiful - so much splendour. I will set up my stall for some painting, could I draw you? It'd be a lovely example?"

In an attempt not to be too gauche, Willow has an easel set up in the leeway of a building and a small stall beside her. A fine hand-written sign indicates that she'll paint either heraldic blazons for armours or portraits of the martial prowess of the warriors. Flicking the soft curls from her eyes, she smiles knowing that the day should be good for business.

'A warriors pride should ensure that there will be plenty of work.' Willow thinks as she appreciatively watches the mass of the countries finest walk past. 'They are looking good, certainly the best in Mendev.'

Keeping to the shade, so her pale skin isn't in the direct glare of the light. Smoothing down her skirts, the artist takes a momentary respite to perch upon a stool. "I wonder what events will be in the trials this afternoon." her words are soft, almost if she's talking to herself; however the snuffling from the paint basket shows she isn't. "Don't go nibbling on the ochre, it's expensive and not good for you.."

A small hedgehog pokes it's snout from the basket, unsatisfied it's not found any worms or lunch. With a look of such warmth to her familiar, Willow's shoulders shake with mirth.

"Yes, it's quite breath-taking. Makes it hard to believe we're at the edge of the Worldwound." Pauses to brush off a fleck of dust from her armour. "And I'd be happy to have you draw me."

With a wink and grin of appreciation to the gate guard, the figure takes the final two steps through and into Kenabres proper. He stretches his arms out to the side, and claps them together in front of him with a snap. With a roguish smirk he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

The man is tall enough to be noticed if he wanted too, and solidly built, if a little on the lean side. The tips of his ears peeking out from under his hair indicate possible elvish ancestry. His long white hair and well tanned skin gleam in the sun,... wait a minute.

His hair and skin DO gleam, even in the shade of the entry gate. His hair is actually burnished silver, and his skin is golden. Not 'golden tan', just gold. His scale mail armor is polished like every one elses, but somehow just more stylish on him. A well worn rapier hangs from his hip, under a small buckler. The gleam from the passerbys polished arms and armor is almost as bright as the gleam from the newcomers pearly whites.

"Well now, WHAT shall ol' Cernan do first?!" He asks aloud, although no one stands nearby. A woman passing by looks at him when he speaks, and he gives her a wink and a grin. She shakes her head and continues on, which does not seem to dismay our new arrival one bit.

"Well I'll tell you! The FIRST thing's Cernan's gonna do is get a drink! Wash the road dust out of his mouth. THAT'S what Cernan's gonna do!" With that he unclips a small silver mug from his belt and pulls out a leather wine sack. WHen he goes to pour some into the cup, his dazzling smile fades upon discovery it is empty.

"The wine is gone? WHY is the wine always gone?!" He cries plaintively.

"Well. There WAS an awful lot of road. And dust." He explains to another passerby.

"Besides, what's the good in being a cleric of Cayden if you can't call upon his blessings? Purely for medicinal purposes, of course." He grins cheerfully once more, and replaces the empty wineskin on his belt. He intones a short chant over the empty cup, then holds it up to the sky and cries, "For Glory, for Honor, For Cayden!"

A person in the crowd, obviously already well into enjoying Cayden's blessings in his own way today, and looking for any excuse for a toast, upon seeing the raised silver cup lifts his own leather flagon and cries "Here here!" To which Cernan (FOr that is his name) toasts the stranger in return and drains his now full cup in one long pull.

Lowering his cup he gives a long satisfied sigh. Then burps.

"Ah yes, THAT hit the spot! Thanks much!" He adds looking upwards with a salute of his now empty mug. He clips the silver cup back onto his belt, adjusts his sword belt at a slightly more rakish angle, and steps forward into the swift current of the crowd.

Cernan struts through the streets of Mendev like a bantam rooster, and it doesn't go unnoticed. But his obviously well-worn sword and armor provide reason for any would be pickpockets to choose another victim. One that doesn't feel so confident that he wears a silver mug openly on his belt.

He takes in the sights and smells of the street vendors, and the resulting rumble from his stomach reminds him that his belly is nearly as empty as his coin purse.

"Ol Cernan will haveta do something about that soon. But first he'll just get the lay of the land,..." He trails off, looking at a pair of attractive redheads, one human, one halfling, setting up off to one side of the main vendors.

"Speaking of,... It looks like its a good thing that Cernan brought his own cup. Because he just spied a tall, cool drink of water!" He smirks happily. He starts to step in their direction, but has to do a quick side step to avoid being run over, or under, by another redhead. A gnome this time, carrying a backpack nearly as large as herself full of assorted somethings, and calling out the usual street vendors battle cries.

"Whoops, sorry, Hey! Easy hot stuff!" Cernan says as he dodges. The gnome continues on as she didn't even notice the near collision. And she may not have. Cernan does a swift double take between the gnome and the other pair of redheads across the street.

"Whoah. Didn't know they grow redheads here like dandelions. Three in a row. That must be a good sign, right? Today must be Cernan's lucky day!" He grins, then pauses.

"Or, not a good sign." He peruses soberly, recalling his last encounter with a redhead. That had also involved a witch's coven. The parting had been,... eventful.

"Whelp! Only one way to find out! FIRST, find another drink!" he decides, and reenters the masses of cheerful people, firmly deciding to find a good time, or to make one of his own.

"Charcoal, I think?" the words are judging the quickest medium, especially since she doesn't need to flatter her friends beauty - it shines out naturally.

Standing up and smoothing the minute creases in her dress, Willow offers Ionnia the stool. "Thanks, most kind of you. We shall enjoy the sights once I have got a couple of commissions under my belt." With sure and deft movements, under sweeping arcs a visage starts to take form.

Her eyes glance up as it seems a drunken buffoon nearly walked into a cart, with a shake of her head that spills her locks across her face. Absently she draws a finger to capture the stray lock behind her ear, however this battle leaves a charcoal line across her high cheekbones.

Bending over, she reaches into the basket and produces the end of a nibbled loaf of bread. Erina pokes her head out again following the retrieved food, with an inquiring snuffle. Tearing off the crust, Willow offers the bulk back down to the animal. The piece the artist still holds is used to rub out some of the charcoal.

"Certainly, so close to the Worldwound and so much normality. I've never been to a celebration like this." she adds failing to keep the awe from her voice; before finally addressing her friends queries. "It's the first time I've been to Kenabres too, so far away from my small town. Maybe we should find a guide? I'm not sure how far my coin stretches..." she waves indicating the drawing. "But it'll stretch to a ribbon for your blade, or is it a peacebond?"

"What colour though?" she muses, whilst she instinctively draws.

"I'm thinking red, green, or gold. Or maybe all three - and don't worry about paying for it, I have some coins left even after I got my new armour. I have to remember to pick up a new holy symbol though. My last one cracked during a practice joust."

Ionnia looks around at the people passing, twitching a smile at the gleaming drunk. "Some people seems to have started the celebrations very early. I wonder if it's some sort of spell that's making him glow like that, or do you think they put something in the ale during the festivities?" She puts on a pretend bombastic voice. "If one too many drink will make them start to shine, maybe they'll learn not to overindulge."

Willows' face lights up at Ionnia; "Then if you get the ribbons, I must pay for lunch." she adds insistently.

"Moderation, is the key. Partaking of an alcoholic beverage can be beneficial if you don't display boorish behaviour for all to see." the artist replies primly. Then she actually spots the shining man, there eyes meeting for a second and Willow feels a slight flush to her face.

Trying to cover the reaction, Willow continues; "That would be a good idea, you could see who is inebriated - thus avoiding them. However, it looks like it is his natural skin tone."

Her hands slide across the sheet with sinuous grace. "However, I will not get your tone on here. Not in black and white."

kipka sighs as few people seem overly interested in her advertisements- she has only a handful of advancr orders, and they are for dry, boring, bulk sale items so people could make their own poultices for home use. She skips out of the way of some swaggering oaf looking like a....golden statue? And an articulated one at that- such musculature! She stares openly at his silver hair and catches a glance at the cariacture artist setting up and wonders if this is going to turn into a true festival after all these years. It would certainly liven things up, but she couldn't see the nutty-gritty leadheads among the many knightly orders of kenabres going for it. Still, could these be outlanders? It would explain a bit. And where there are outlanders, there is coin....

[Calling to Cernan] Goodmorn, goodsir, and what looks to have been a great night aforehand- might you be in need of a tincture beyond doghair to address your...inebriation?

kipka puts on a cheesy grin, hoping to disarm the metal man, get a better look at him- he's easy on the eyes in that coarse, zaftig way most good-looking humie men are- get a sale or at least a sample (a unique human or some other life form? Those colors of hair and skin dont appear every day...), and avoid making a scene in that order. Mom made her promise to stop grossing out the humies for fun...

Cernan turns at the sound of the bombastic voice. Very melodic he observes, even when shouting.

He holds up his hands in a helpless gesture.

"It's my sparkling personality sweetheart! Nothing I can do about it!" he cries back with a grin. Catching the shorter ones eyes for a moment, he gives her a broad wink, and chuckles to himself when she blushes and turns away.

"Oh yeah. This is Cernan's kind of town!" He says aloud.

Goodmorn, goodsir, and what looks to have been a great night aforehand- might you be in need of a tincture beyond doghair to address your...inebriation?

Turing at the sound of the voice, he looks momentarily confused to see no one there. Then he looks down. It is the same red-haired gnome from a moment previously. So she DID notice that she almost ran him under after all! Cernan bows with a flourish.

"Goodmorn to yourself little lady!" He replies cheerily.

"Whats that? Tinctures and potions? Not today thank you. Not yet at any rate." He replies with a waggle of raven dark eyebrows.

"And I'll confess to celebrating, but only because I've just arrived. Cayden frowns upon wonton drunkeness. So Cernan does too. However, fortunately Cayden DOES encourage joyful celebration and freedom to do so! So allow me to offer YOU a blessing from Cayden!" He pulls out the empty wineskin and leans closer to stage whisper to the gnome.

"Cernan has to be careful how much of Cayden's blessing's he distributes. Cayden encourages us to share, but he doesn't want to put hard working tavern owners and honest brewers out of business! Here you go!"
He says holding out the same skin, now full to almost bursting.

"I hight Cernan Cereznin, Cleric of Cayden! At your lovely's service!" He declares proudly as he offers her the wineskin.

"And who might you be, oh most fetching of potion peddlers?"

kipka's eyes widen at the offer- while that does smell good, but its just too early in the morning for a libation that hasn't been watered down- and then narrow as she as she takes note of the strange humie's skin and hair up close. Chiding herself after too long a moment spent observing him and not long enough taking his order, she finds her tongue

Ah..sorry, its a bit too early for that for me at least...

glancing about frantically, not wanting to lose a potential customer to her sobriety and really wanting to drum up some real business, she gestures to the caricature artist that had set up not too far off. [Ooc]

Buuuuut.... seeing as it is your first time here in kenabres, why not get a quick portrait to commemorate the occasion? I can take your *future* order while you are being immortalized. Surely, you will have need of a salve of SOME sort in the future, if you plan on having as good a time here as you say. And my name is Kipka, sometimes called Kipka Jinxspittle, but always known as an employee of Okone's Apothecary....

[ooc]kipka takes his arm at the elbow and begins guiding him towards the outlander artists, who may be in need of a potion of some sort as well...

The outline of Ionnia starts to take shape relatively quickly, a simple portrait of the young knight. Willow looks up, sensing the approach of others - maybe potential customers.

Immediately she recognises the quaffing metallic gentleman, glancing away still embarrassed at being caught looking earlier. 'Oh he's coming over here, with a friend. Hope he doesn't think I was staring at his skin.'

However she puts on a mask of the entrepreneur, greeting potential customers. "Hello, how can I be of assistance? Would you like a portrait of you, or your companion?" Willow rises and smiles to Kipka warmly. "Or perhaps you are entered into one of the contests? I paint heraldry too." she adds with aplomb.

Erina, a small hedgehog, snuffles her way to the top of the wicker basket upon the floor observes what's going on, then slips back under the lid deeming it beneath her notice.

Ionnia looks over at the approaching pair. "She's really good. Just look," and holds up her own shield to demonstrate the point.

To Willow, "Well, if you're determined on paying for something, I suppose it'd be rude to not let you take care of the lunch. I can't eat too much if I'm to enter the joust or fencing contest, though."

Willow nods to Ionnia, glad of her friends reassurance and quite proud of the emblazoned shield - even if it'd be soon bashed during the tourney. But she's confident in Ionnia's skills at arms, hoping that the Champion of Shelyn will place well. "Well there is plenty of choice." with placed grace her arm motions to the bustling square.

Kipka does a double take at the heraldry- it really is good. She is by far a superior artist- maybe if she's going to be in town for a while she'll help her redo some pictures of some dretches she drew a few months ago- she could never get the flowing features *just* right.

I think goodsir might appreciate a picture commemorating his first day in Kenabres, not to mention his first Armasse. Would you mind terribly if we talked while you drew? I think I was about to take his order for my father's apothecary- which also has some things an artist might be interested in...

She crosses her fingers internally. Judging by the looks of him the metal man has a few coins- or skin samples- to part with, and no artist of this caliber would be poor on a day like this...

"No, feel free." Willow says continuing with her drawing; "In fact my friend and I are new to town too. Working for a local merchant would be an honour." she says politely, whilst she smudges the painting to get a shadow. "As would a commemorative picture."

Turns her head over to Kipka, (hoping Willow's sketching won't be affected by the change in pose) and studies the halfling's turtle-shell of a backpack and the stuff in it with open curiosity.

So are those healing supplies that you're carrying around mistress? Some of them look a bit... pointy, but I'm no healer, so I wouldn't know if that's how it's supposed to be or not.

Sorry, catching up,... (I hope) :)

The armored dandy allows himself to be steered by the gnome (not the worst person he's ever allowed to 'lead him along') towards the two red-heads at the artist easel, (Not the worst destination he's ever had).

"A portrait? Very well if you insist. Although most just ask for Cernan's autograph." He replies, completely misunderstanding the gnome's intentions. Or at least of paying.

"Good morn ladies! Cernan Cereznin, cleric of Cayden, at your service!" The assimar smiles, the reflection from his teeth flashing in the sun.

"New to town as well? Excellent! How fortunate that Kipka here almost ran me over. Now we all have three new friends, and a local to show us around! A very auspicious start to a wonderful day!"

Cernan glances at the drawing that Willow has started.

"You did this? Your very good. Very nice lines,..."

You notice that Cernan is not looking at the picture as he says that last bit,...

Willow straightens up from where she's slightly bent over the easel. 'Did he just?..... No.' she dismisses his gaze as anything other than artistic appreciation.

"I thank you, I try to put my modest talents to their best use." she replies to Cernan with humility that's not completely genuine. "You are here for the contests? With Ionnia in the tournament, they'll be tough conquests." Willow's glance takes in the practical armour and the faint sheen of trail-dust. Then judges that he'll have little ready coin, for coin is sparse these days - the crusade needing every copper they can get.

"Tough conquest indeed." Cernan agrees heartily, looking at the lady being discussed.

"While I may perchance choose to enter a contest, I did not actually come all this way for a chance to show off. I was sent here for a higher purpose." he says matter of factly, with no obvious signs of bragging.

"Were you meant to be showing something off? Sir Cereznin." Willow wonders simply, continuing to sketch lightly.

Without a hint of cynicism she inquires; "You serve a higher purpose, a noble one I hope."

"I hope so! I am a loyal servant of Cayden. I was sent here by my superiors,... I suspect that my ancestry played a part in it,..." he adds wryly, absentmindedly twisting a shining silver lock of hair around one finger.

"But for an honorable and noble purpose I can assure you!"

He stands silently, watching Willow sketch with curiosity.

"That is good news, I am sure the crusade can benefit from the freedom of Cayden to depose the shackles of evil." Willow adds quietly, but with some vehemence.

The artist changes the subject to her actual work and hoping that Cernan is richer than he looks; "So this picture, you can pay what you think it's worth once it's done." This is her usual method of payment, for it encourages people to give what they can afford whilst still valuing her work.

'What, exactly, that purpose IS they neglected to mention. Of course.' Cernan silently muses.

He shakes his head slightly as he returns to the present. He watches the artist work, frequently giving admiring glances at the picture, the artist, and her subject.

"Oh have no fear on that account lady Willow. Cernan is certain that we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." He says straight faced, during one of the rare moments when he is actually looking at the picture of Ionnia as it takes shape.

Heh, innuendos for the win! :) You DO realize that Cernan is currently wearing his entire net worth right now, right? :)

"That is good Sir Cereznin, no party wants to get the short end of the stick." her reply is serious and straight-laced. "Would you wish to sit for a portrait now? Or get your mug painted?"

Willow glances at her drawing, though it could use a great deal more detailing she finds it acceptable for a first pass. "If not we might be away for a small repast, maybe a constitutional around the market."

The cleric's hand instinctively curls protectively around the mug hanging from his belt. At second glance, you can see that underneath it's acquired travel smudges and well-used veneer, it appears to be made of silver.

"No, my mug is fine, thank you." He smirks slightly.

"Whilst I am certain that you would do it proud, Cernan is not so certain that Cayden would approve. It IS my holy symbol after all."

The cleric grins at the responses that news brings.

"Can you think of a better object to represent the ascended Power of Bravery, Battle and Celebration?? A simple charm hung about the neck? Hah! THIS is both beautiful AND functional. A perfect device to both display AND distribute the blessings of Cayden!" He declares proudly.

"Besides, wielding a mug during a tavern brawl doesn't usually get the gendarmes called out on you." He adds with a preening smirk.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I just arrived myself. Breaking the morning fast would be more than acceptable. Lady Kipka! Where could three hungry travelers obtain victuals during this time of celebration?"

Her mouth forming a perfect O, the lady is aghast; "You get involved in tavern brawl's?!? How...how..." she cannot think of the words.

Then she looks to the diminutive, but well formed gnome - her eyes a wonder.

"Well, not always by choice. But it has been known to happen." Cernan grins at a memory.

"Cernan goes where the whims of Cayden takes him! And HE was formerly a warrior of great skill, with a greater love of life and desire of living it to the fullest! Such person's are wont to gather in taverns and feasthalls. And by nature are,... enthusiastic about their views. Sometimes the discussions can become quite spirited!" The assimar explains proudly.

Turns her head over to Kipka, (hoping Willow's sketching won't be affected by the change in pose) and studies the halfling's turtle-shell of a backpack and the stuff in it with open curiosity.

So are those healing supplies that you're carrying around mistress? Some of them look a bit... pointy, but I'm no healer, so I wouldn't know if that's how it's supposed to be or not.

These? Oh no, these are but pennants I use to advertise my father's shop. I hang them from the tools I use for my own... research. Kipka smiles nervously, trying not to go into a monologue on his difficult it can be to capture a creature that might be able to wink out of existence at ANY moment.

"That is good Sir Cereznin, no party wants to get the short end of the stick." her reply is serious and straight-laced. "Would you wish to sit for a portrait now? Or get your mug painted?"

Willow glances at her drawing, though it could use a great deal more detailing she finds it acceptable for a first pass. "If not we might be away for a small repast, maybe a constitutional around the market."

That sounds most agreeable. My father's store is not far from a cafe that serves a variety of drinks.... while no halfling, kipka can make use of her size around the humies well enough. She moves to guide both metal man and inquisitive model by the elbow to usher them toward a sale. ...

"Well, it seems we've found our guide, Willow." Ionnia smiles as she's being led through the crowd by the small woman. "And what kind of research is it you use these implements for? I'm Ionnia, by the way. A moderately humble servant of the Eternal Rose."

Warm mahogany eyes glance at the gnome, in her she sees a fellow entrepreneur capable of forging a sale from a nugget of interest. The artist leaves her easel and drawing set up, swivelling the portrait around for viewing. However she does pick up her basket of materials (and Erina), following behind the group she quickly hustles to catch up.

'Why does the priest speak in the third person? Is it impolite to ask?' she muses before realising he's too honest & extroverted to not tell her if she's offending.

"I am not one to frequent those 'passionate halls of extravagance'." she adds euphemistically. "Cernan. If I may call you that?"

She pauses trying to figure out the best way to resolve it diplomatically and couch it correctly; "You seem to refer to yourself in the third person. Is it because you are heavens' touched?" Willow asks hoping that she judged his ancestry correctly, before she continues painting a romantic imagery in her mind. "Is this one of many lives, many memories? That Cernan is your spiritual self, your heavenly-dreamy persona? Are you a mere repository for his knowledge, a sensate shell that experiences all that you can, whilst you reside upon this mortal plane." Her breathing quickens at the romantic imagining.

Gives Cernan an appraising look. A bit scruffy, but I suspect he cleans up nice enough - and is well aware of it, she thinks to herself before turning to Willow. You think he's one of those reincarnated people from the Dragon Empires you hear tales about?

Willow rushes to keep up and trips over her feet, fortunately she arrests fall and regains her balance. Looking around guiltily she replies to Ionnia; "Yes, that's what I was thinking. Something like that." she adds. 'Certainly not like that book I snuck out of Aunties night-stand, with the pretty wood-cut cover.'

"Well, it seems we've found our guide, Willow." Ionnia smiles as she's being led through the crowd by the small woman. "And what kind of research is it you use these implements for? I'm Ionnia, by the way. A moderately humble servant of the Eternal Rose."

SHE ASKED FIRST! !! ALL BETS ARE OFF! !! Ionnia, I am an apothescholar specializing in infernal and demonic humors, offal and pelts. It's an unusual calling, but one that makes me so happy-and provides s real service to boot!

Willow goggles at the statement; "Don't you worry about the corruption? Surely there are no beneficial uses to such....such vileness." She puts her hand to her mouth in shock.

Ionnia blinks and goes a little pale, but clearly don't want to offend Kipka. "I... I suppose I can see how that would be useful. But aren't demonic ...bits dangerous to work with?"

Oh pshaw! They're quite pliable once they've been dealt with, and their...composite parts...have DOZENS of uses! Did you know lemure leather can be processed twice as quickly as cowhide and is a renewable resource? Or that imp claws make great needles for darning with! I want to catalogue them all, I'm something of an artist myself... kipka wastes no time in showing off the book her mom made her promise NOT to show to potential customers, revealing a small gallery of life-drawings of lemures, dretches and the like, along with a listing of potential uses. Some of the drawings are okay-she is little more than an amateur- but the anatomy is quite good.

Hiro stumbles around in the alley trying to get his bearing. His head is swimming and his stomach is not too far behind. He finds his vision coming and going and feels cold all over. Shivering he notices the ice powder on his hands, and after checking the rest of his body he finds it covering him almost entirely. He steadies himself against a wall and proceeds to dump the entire contents of his stomach on the ground. That made him feel much better.

"Could it have worked?" he thinks to himself. "Could the Council have succeeded?"

Hiro thinks back to the events that led to him being here and it all seems so fuzzy.

His vision improving, Hiro runs out into the street to see where, and when he might be. The music, the sounds, the sights, it all seems so foreign. He starts to get dizzy again and closes his eyes and plugs his ears until the queasiness subsides.

When he opens his eyes he is greeted to the most wonderful sight he has ever seen. "This can't be" he mutters to himself in Tian. "They are extinct!?"

Walking down the road Hiro spotted one of the Heaven's Touched, Aasimar his tutor called them, with 2 ladies and a small child, no wait, a gnome in tow.

"Yatta!" He exclaims and runs right up to the man. Wide-eyed and giddy he reaches out with a finger and touches the stranger on the chest giving him a slight push, to make sure he is real.

"Yatta!" he exclaims again and jumps up and down and begins to speak uncontrollably in Tian to the man, spilling the words out without taking a breath until he starts to get dizzy again. When he next draws in a breath he notices that all 4 of them are looking at him with unabashed confusion.

"So sorry, please allow me to apologize for my behavior. I am Hiro Nakamura and I am pleased to meet you" he states in Tian. Again, he is met with confusion (assuming no one else speaks Tian). Suddenly it hits him, he is not on his continent, they cannot speak Tian. "Common perhaps?" he mutters to himself in Tian.

Stiffening, he turns back toward them and in very broken common states "Hello. My name Hiro Nakamura. Sorry. Thought you dead. I am here to save the world. Shake!" as he thrusts out his hand with the biggest warmest smile he can muster in what he believes is the proper form of greeting.

"I am not one to frequent those 'passionate halls of extravagance'." she adds euphemistically. "Cernan. If I may call you that?"

"Passionate Halls of,...?!? Oh, OH! The taverns, yes. For a moment I thought you were referring to a temple of Shelyn or Calistra." He grins.

"And of course you may call me Cernan! It IS Cernan's name after all!" He flashes a winning smile at the attractive woman, a blinding gleam of reflected sunlight causing her to blink. It would appear that even Cernan's teeth are metallic and shiny.

She pauses trying to figure out the best way to resolve it diplomatically and couch it correctly; "You seem to refer to yourself in the third person. Is it because you are heavens' touched?" Willow asks hoping that she judged his ancestry correctly, before she continues painting a romantic imagery in her mind. "Is this one of many lives, many memories? That Cernan is your spiritual self, your heavenly-dreamy persona? Are you a mere repository for his knowledge, a sensate shell that experiences all that you can, whilst you reside upon this mortal plane." Her breathing quickens at the romantic imagining.

Cernan looks upwards, clearly as lost for a moment in the romantic imagery as Willow herself.

"It is possible that it is a trait of my heritage. It is even possible, I suppose, that Cernan is living many lives over the eons. Traveling from one time period to the next, serving the Powers, aiding others and vanquishing evil wherever it rears it's ugly head. It is possible that Cernan is an earthly avatar of an angelic servant, sent down in times of turmoil to aid mortals in their time of dire need. It is even possible that Cernan is a humble avatar of Cayden himself, sent back down to relive a mortal life and ensure that the Ascended does not forget his humble beginnings. To recall the joy in the performance of good deeds, from healing a sick child, to vanquishing a demonic horde. To properly celebrating the victory afterwords. That, indeed, would be a noble and worthy purpose,..." Cernan breathes reverently.

"Mostly though, Cernan just likes the sound of his own name! It rolls off the tongue, and is rife with potential and portent, wouldn't you agree?!" He asks brashly, bursting the bubble of romantic imagery with an almost audible 'POP!'.

Awesome intro Hiro! :)

Cernan raises an eyebrow as the gnome Kipka explains her profession. Clearly he is,... skeptical. But he does not seem to be judgmental. Rather he is curious. Before he can add his own questions, the cheerful gnome is explaining in MORE than enough detail to answer whatever it was he was going to ask. And after about the 3rd or 4th page of sketches he really cant recall.

Then he is approached by an odd little man, a warrior by his weapons if dressed in unusual garb. The little man pokes him in the chest, rocking him back lightly. Then babbles in a stream of gibberish that leaves Cernan looking back and forth between the odd man and his trio of redheads.

When the man stops to catch his breath, Cernan looks at the ladies.

"Cernan will have what HE'S having!"

Stiffening, he turns back toward them and in very broken common states "Hello. My name Hiro Nakamura. Sorry. Thought you dead. I am here to save the world. Shake!" as he thrusts out his hand with the biggest warmest smile he can muster in what he believes is the proper form of greeting.

Cernan grins and reaches out to grasp the man's proffered arm in a firm forearm-to-forearm grip.

"Well met Hero! Sorry, but the tales of my demise have all been greatly exaggerated. Save the world? Aren't we all my good man? Aren't we all?!" Cernan says cheerfully in a slow, overpronounced voice, as if speaking to a child or a slow person.

"You look a little peaked. Are you alright? A little too much too soon?" Cernan asks, miming tipping a bottle with a broad wink.

"Here you go my good fellow, a little hair of the dog that bit you. Courtesy of Cayden, by way of Cernan Cereznin!" he grins, teeth shining as he offers the man his cup, which is once more filled with wine.

appears..

kipka swallows a particularly ugly curse- a drunkard at this hour was not unheard of, but it is bad luck- she doesn't need him scaring off coin! [speaking slowly] You saved us! Thank you! But we must be going now... [/speaking slowly]

Hiro looks quizzically at the Cernan. "So sorry but I am not thirsty. I am on very important mission." Hiro stands up as tall as his 5'4" frame allows as he states that last sentence. "Very important, please, you tell me when I am?"

You saved us! Thank you! But we must be going now...

Hiro looks down at the gnome, which really isn't that far down as short as Hiro is, and really takes notice of her for the first time. She has the most fascinating gear poking out of her backpack. "I saved you already?" he asks. "But that cannot be. I only arrived just now. Am I late?"

Hiro starts to panic a little. The frost from coming through the portal has begun melting and is running down his face making him shiver again. Hiro takes in the Heaven's Touched other 2 companions. Both of them are very attractive, for Western women, and have the most fantastically colored hair, the same as the gnome's. "PLEASE!!! I must know! When am I?!? What time?!?" he directs at them all and starts to draw attention from the rest of the passerby's. "My life built to this mission! If I fail all is lost!" He states as he walks in a circle in front of them.

Picture of Hiro Nakamura

going from annoyed to afraid, Kipka continues to patronize/soothe him
it's armasse in kenabres. Just before noon.
she looks around for a cleric of one of those healing/nurturing "deities"...

Willow looks on aghast, as first Kipka shows her a book of horrors. 'That does show some artistic promise, you can almost see where the viscera oozes out of the..... oh my word....' She blanches.

Then Cernan's mention of the temples of Shelyn & Callistra as if they are bawdy houses; 'Never seen anything like that and I've served at the church of Shelyn....' she blinks, '...not like that. Good thing I didn't mention it to Cernan. Although I wonder if Ionnia's seen anything .....?' she shakes the thought from her head with a faint blush.

Then the man rushes from a back alley, with a faint aroma of the stomach and an ill-look on his face.

Willow cuts in; "What my artistic friend meant is, you've saved us from a boring breakfast. May we help you find a seat and maybe get you a light drink to shake off your hangover?" she offers gently putting a hand upon his elbow to reassure him. The tall red-head glances to Cernan with a shake of her head at the offer of more alcohol.

"I think you must be confused. Or it seems obvious that Common is not your native tongue. I think you mean WHERE are you, yes?" Cernan says loudly, but kindly.

HEAL check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

Cernan turns towards the ladies, and stage whispers behind his hand.

"Actually, Cernan does not believe that 'Hero' is drunk. Believe me, Cernan knows drunk. And this ain't it."

The cleric takes in the man's obvious distress, the strange style of clothes, now wet as if he had recently been dunked in a fountain, and his apparent mental state. He places his hand gently on the other shoulder, assisting Willow to steer the man gently towards the nearest shady spot that looks safe to sit.

"That is quite all right Hero. You are certainly not late. Nor are you early. You are a Hero, and a Hero always arrives precisely when he means to! Now you just come and sit down right over here, and let this dizzy spell pass. And we will get you sorted out in no time!"

In an instant, the swaggering braggart is gone, replaced by a kindly, if enthusiastic, healer.

Following Cernan's lead, Willow gently chivvies Hiro towards the shade of a small chestnut tree amidst of pool of rich green grass. She glances to Cernan, slightly surprised to see some seriousness under the extrovert guise. Which increases her respect for the aasimar, but she still remains a touch wary.

"Shall I go and find some fruit juice?" Willow asks, despite her knowledge of the healing arts - she defers to the primary healer.

It's a good thing we're on our way to an apothecary. That man clearly needs some help.