At Artyom's "flirting", Ricky flies up and pecks hard at his head. 'Artyom! Did you forget about her?! Your beloved?!' Artyom looks at Ricky. 'Of course not, Ricky. I'm just trying to be friends... like you suggested. Besides, judging from her appearance, she seems to be the type who can handle and counter "flirting".'
At the cleric's offer, Ricky chirps, flies up, and begins tugging Artyom's hair in the direction of the cleric. "Let's go! Let's go!" He then does the same with Anaach. Artyom shrugs and moves his cane, tome, and meal closer to the two gents. He looks back at Annach and gestures to follow. As he sits next to the cleric, he warily shakes his hand says, "Artyom Marisan. My companion is Anaach. And my feathered friend is Ricky. I'm here to investigate the old Thassilonian ruins. Pardon if I don't come across as friendly, but I don't exactly have a good track record with Desna's faithful. No offense." His violet gaze looks over the cleric, as if judging him.
Thassilonian ruins...could be a chance to make some gold Landis turned towards Artyom, the seemingly bored look on his face shifting to an expression that hinted at interest "Well if you have the gold and find your self in need of a man who's been to dungeons before, you can find me at this inn" Said Landis as he turned in his seat to get a better look of the wizard.
Well met, then friend Artyom and friend Anaach, an' o' course Sir Ricky o' the Feathers as well..." Lucky greets each man (and bird) in turn offering his hand.
"I'm sorry ta say, I doan' get along well wit' the clergy o' the Lady meself. Me luck comes from Her directly-like, not from belonging ta some priesthood. I doan ken those tha' study the Dreamer care much fer me lack o' scholarship er ritual. But, believe it boyo, it works fer me. We all honor the Lady in our own way."
After Landis speaks, Finn chimes in. "Cain't say I ken much 'bout Thassilonian ruins, but it sounds like a fair peach. If'n ya need some luck on yer trip, count me in."
Anaach has a handshake like the paw of a bear, rough leathery skin and thick muscles, (the back of his hand is also quite hairy) he speaks carefully
"He has also asked me to accompany him. I am as of yet not sure..." he glances back at his items every few moments, as if unsure they would still be there each time that he looked.
Ricky flutters from the bowl of berries onto the cleric's out-stretched and chirps. "Thank you! What is your name?"
At the Cheliaxian's offer, Artyom's brow raises. "So you can go through dungeons. But have you been through Thassilonian ruins before? Do you know anything about them? All of the possible treasures and definite dangers that lie below? Tell me. Why should I take you? I don't even know your name." Ricky then says: "Artyom! Don't be an arse!" Artyom shrugs. "Sorry. But I need to know if I can get the best. This is a delicate plan we're working on. Everything I've done has been leading to this and if it fails... there goes my life's work."
At both Lucky and Landis's offers, Ricky begins making the "sales pitch" again: "We need to explore the ruins and take anything we find. You guys might get us into areas unheard of and find long-lost items. You'll receive part of what we find, of course, as payment. We're positive that the Runelords and their servants made more than just wands, scrolls, and spellbooks. Odds are they might have magic weapons or armor. If not, then we'll be more than happy to enchant what you want."
At Anaach's statement, Artyom turns and says, "And the offer still stands. Should you change your mind." He then takes a sip of his tea. Noticing the cup is empty, he says, "Bethana, may I get a refill, please?"
"I am Finn McDonaugh, follower o' the Lady o' Luck an' some have taken to calling me "Lucky" as a result. Haven't the faintest clue why... 'Tis me great pleasure ta meet ye, Ricky o'the Feathers. 'Tis me great pleasure indeed." Finn strokes the bird under his beak in a polite way.
"Sounds like this Thassal-whats-it might be a good peach after all. When the Festival for me Lady ends 'ere, I'm tickled ta sign up with ye, Artyom. 'Specially if this brute o' a man comes along ta be the muscle." Finn motions to Anaach and smiles at him broadly.
"Again, I am not sure." Anaach replies,
and glances to his things once more... while sipping from his cup
As Finn strokes under Ricky's beak, Ricky trills in content.
At Finn's statement, Artyom says, "Well, as the magic centered empire that encompassed all of Varisia, Thassilon was considered to be one of greatest empires. So, yes, it could be considered as a 'good peach', as you so put it, Finn."
At Anaach's statement, Artyom says, "No one's pressuring you into joining, Anaach. If you decline, then no one will hold it against you. I certainly won't."
As Finn strokes under Ricky's beak, Ricky trills in content.
At Finn's statement, Artyom says, "Well, as the magic centered empire that encompassed all of Varisia, Thassilon was considered to be one of greatest empires. So, yes, it could be considered as a 'good peach', as you so put it, Finn."
At Anaach's statement, Artyom says, "No one's pressuring you into joining, Anaach. If you decline, then no one will hold it against you. I certainly won't."
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20 + 10
His eyes slide to his items, saying nothing.
He continues sipping his watered ale... standing alertly
Ameiko and Bethana both let you know that the price of lodging is 5 sp for the night. "Let me know if you think of anymore stories," Ameiko says. "I may give you a discount for your persistence sooner or later."
Ameiko brings out an exotic-looking, three-stringed instrument, and begins to play. This is met with heavy approval from the other patrons, who bang their tankards down to the beat, and drop coins at her feet. She is obviously extremely skilled. You can imagine it sounding quite a bit like this.
Eventually the hour grows late, and the majority if people head to bed. Bethana leads you to your rooms and bids you good night.
Artyom pays Ameiko for his room and meal. He smiles to the Tien woman and says, "I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other quite often." He listens to her skilled playing, finishing his meal. When he enters his room, he places his backpack in a corner, his cane within arm's reach, and his spellbook in his backpack. Ricky finds a comfortable spot to sleep. Petting his familiar, he sighs and turns in for the night.
Anaach picks up his equipment and heads upstairs
Having gone to sleep before Last Meal, Weylyn rises as the city settles in for sleep.
A good night to run the rooftops. He inhales sharply and begins his calisthenics. Twenty minutes later, the young thief dons his armor and slips out the window.
Weylyn jogs in a low crouch across the roof and leaps the gap to the next building. He travels in a similar fashion for sometime: noting poorly locked windows and unguarded houses.
Keep these in mind for the next lean season.
None of these were his true purpose tonight. No, tonight, he wanted to see the temple before anyone else...
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She trips and by some miracle, manages to catch herself.
That was close
Freeing herself from her tangled backpack, this young girl, nay young woman finds herself a bit lost. Sure some kindly folk showed her the way and another gave her a lift, She's still a little lost.
No Clan member to joke with, the city people seemed unfriendly in comparision. Oh well, she supppose. The elders did say the journey would be interesting.
The gentle rhythm of the hoofbeats sounds a percussion, as the insects take the place of wind and the night sounds become a symphony luring her to sleep.
Tomorrow her destination awaits. For now Sleep beckons.
Weylin and Lelia wake up to sound of the bell striking 7 o'clock. The sun peaks it's head over the horizon, illuminating the town with a warm, red glow. The air is oddly warm for Autumn, and there isn't a cloud in the sky. It seems as though Gozreh his cast blessing upon the festival.
Besides the early hour, the streets are filled with people making last minute preparation for the festival. Good smells emanate from all of the taverns. In the market, stalls are being erected, and wares laid out. Chairs are being put on a large podium in front of the cathedral. Down by the beach past the Old Light, an archery range is being set up. A demonic looking skeletal horse with bat wings and razor-sharp teeth decorates each one of the targets.
Back in The Rusty Dragon, many of the other patrons who stayed the night are up and ordering breakfast. Bethana is scurrying to take orders and relay them to Ameiko, who is in the kitchen cooking as fast as she can.
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The Sound of the bell signals a new day as the rays of the new dawn immuminate her face. Getting up and refreshing herself, performing her daily absolutions, Lelia stays a moment to take in the sights.
I'm here. Let's see what does this big city hold for me.
The smells of breakfast beckons her and she finds herself in front of a tavern, its Sign saying its name, The Rusty Dragon.
She walks in, in anticipation of a good meal and maybe something else.
Artyom rises at 6 o'clock. He spends his time studying his spellbook, picking out the spells he had prepared the day before. Collecting his things, he makes his way down to the main room. When he arrives, he once again he sits at the bar. "Bethana, could I get some eggs, a bowl of berries, and a cup of coffee, please?" Artyom asks, still feeling a tad tired. Ricky, on the other hand, is rather chipper. He flies around the room, looking for someones. Not finding them, he lands on the bar and asks, "Where's Anaach? Lucky? Landis?" Both of them notice a young half-elf woman walking in the door. Artyom just turns, not really interested. Ricky, however, flies over to her and says, "Hello."
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She walked in anticipating a good meal.
She didn't expect a talking bird.....
With a yelp, and then a reddening face, she greets the bird a tentative good morning.
"Ermm.. Good Morning, feathered friend....I ermm don't have anything to give you as yet as I'm fresh from the road, maybe crumbs or small share of my breakfast?"
Weylyn, feeling refreshed and invigorated from his nocturnal activities, enters the Rusty Dragon to break his fast and attend to the morning's gossip.
Weylyn ducks in just after a you half-elf girl who is immediately accosted by some bird.
Never enter this place first...she must be from out of town.
The tattooed Varisian slides past the girl and up to the bar.
"Bethana, my love, I am famished. May I have the usual please?"
Anaach comes down the stairs, the wood creaking loudly.... he is fully armed and armored, all his equipment strapped to his back.
He takes a seat by the fireplace
"Ricky!" The young mage makes his way to his familiar. He turns his attention to the young waif before him. "I apologize if he bothered you at all. He tends to be a bit friendly with strangers. Let me make it up to you by buying your breakfast."
When he is within your vision, the man standing seems to exude an aura of power. He appears to be in his early twenties. His platinum blonde hair reaches his mid-back. But what catches your attention is his eyes. His purple eyes that show a semblance of Azlanti heritage.
Seeing the Shoanti man, Ricky flies over to him. Settling in front of the man, the thrush chirps, "Good Morning, Anaach! Sleep well? Do you know where Landis and Lucky are?"
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Lelia notices the unusual eye coloring and his aura. He seems pretty nice. That tattooed man? Not so nice...but he's varisian, maybe he knows her adopted clan?
Turning to the owner of said bird, she inclines her head slightly keeping a lookout in case he would stab her like all varisian tales about strangers.
"I would buy my own breakfast if you...erm please..I would join you at your table but I'm afraid to offend you as you seem to have very nice eyes. I would like to ermm know more about them?"
Artyom looks at the child before gently smiling. "Of course. I'm seated at the bar. Follow me." When both are seated, he turns to the half-elf. "So you wish to know about my eyes? They indicate very strong Azlanti heritage in my veins. The Azlanti were humans of exceptional power. They weren't only prominent in the Azlanti Empire, but in Thassolin as well. That heritage is something I plan to live up to. But where are my manners? I am Artyom Marisan and the thrush is my familiar, Ricky. What is your name?"
He leans the two-handed ax against the wall with his spear, settling his pack between his feet.
The Shoanti man runs a finger down the bird's feathers, "I heard them leave in the middle of the night. I did not inquire as to why."
He waits for the serving gnome, and orders a simple fare.
Ricky trills in content as Anaach runs a finger down the familiar's feathers. "Well, Artyom is sitting by the bar, if you want to join. And it looks like he has a new friend. Think about it." He then flies off to his master.
Artyom looks at the girl. "A pleasure to meet you, Lelia Moonsil. And may Nethys guide you to the knowledge you seek. Judging from your books and scrolls, you prefer to read and learn. Something we have common. Technically, I'm full blooded Varisian. But my eyes are proof of very strong Azlanti blood within my family line. Is there Azlanti blood in your birth family as well? Also, may I ask why your eyes seem to be clouded? Is it genetic within your family?"
At her comment about Ricky, the thrush flies to the bar. "Thank you! You're very pretty yourself! I like her, Artyom. As much as the one from the Arcanamirium. Maybe she would like to join us." Artyom strokes his chin at this, considering it. "Maybe. She could be beneficial to our cause. Plus having someone who we can talk to in regards to Thassilon would be nice."
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"Ermm I do not know as from birth I have always had bad vision though it seems according to my clan elders, it's related to the way I ask for magic to help me do things, it seems. I can see fine but just not very far.....
"As for Azalnti blood, I don't think so or at least I don't know. I was adopted by the clan who had found me in a cave filled with bodies from a failed ritual. I do know at least I'm half blooded elf.
"I do have this birthmark. It hasn't woken up yet according to my clan elders. My facourite, Wren said that it'll wake up when the time comes though I have yet to understand that."
"Oh Thassilon. I do have some books and scrolls detailing that but they are meagre as it seems much of it is lost and I'm unable to learn from scholars lacking the means to do so."
"If you are going somewhere, maybe I can tag along? I'm not very strong but I can help with minor injuries, speeding the body's natural healing."
At the mention of the girl's eyes and her blood, Artyom gently pats her shoulder. Ricky chirps in, "Don't worry. We can help you find out your past. Right, Artyom?" Artyom looks at his familiar. Then to Lelia. He then nods at her.
The mage strokes his chin as he gets a closer look at the tattoo (with her permission). "I see. How interesting."
At her offer, Artyom smiles gently and nods. Ricky once again offers his "sales pitch": "We need to explore the ruins of Thassilon and take anything we find. You might help us get into areas unheard of and find long-lost items, as well as add to our research. Your healing would be very beneficial, too. You'll receive part of what we find, of course, as payment. We're positive that the Runelords and their servants made more than just wands, scrolls, and spellbooks. Odds are they might have magic weapons or armor. If not, then we'll be more than happy to enchant what you want."
Artyom scrutinizes the tattoo. "Mmm. Draconic in origin. Indicates some dragon ancestor in the family line. But what type of dragon is a bit muddled. Probably marked to keep an eye on you. But, on closer inspection, the mark shows signs of tampering. Also, includes old signs of a ritual. Orc in nature. The ritual was probably used to draw your life energy to someone else. Very interesting, indeed." He leans back. "Your draconic blood will probably manifest itself over time. The orcish ritual will probably affect you. But, in what way, I'm not sure. Should be interesting to see." He finishes with a smile and an anticipated look in his eyes.
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Lelia looks happy at the new information.
"Oh, it's nice to have someone telling me about the tattoo. The elders thought that it could be that the orcs were trying to entice a dragon. Now at least I know that I have a Draconic relative.......would it eat me?" Settling back into her seat "Well at least I'm alive but if I turn green or grow tusk or something.....would I be hunted?" She touched her face a bit possessively.
At Lelia's questions, Artyom becomes thoughtful before responding with, "It would depend on the dragon. But you are probably too important to be eaten. What importance that would be, I don't know. If you do gain physical traits of an orc, you probably wouldn't be hunted. Half-orcs are common and sorcerers often develop traits based on their ancestry. So, no worries there."
Artyom smiles at the young half-elf and pats her head before turning to his meal.
The Varisian at the bar chuckles at Artyom's assessment.
"I wouldn't let my guard down so easy lass. You just met this man. Besides how can one so young know much about anything. He is likely trying to sleep with you. Not that it's any of my business mind you."
He sips from his tankard.
Artyom turns and glares at the Varisian man down the bar. "You ask how I could know so much? It is because I prefer to use my mind rather than just running and stabbing things. All of my life I have been learning. It also helps that I attended one of the greatest colleges in the Inner Sea. Also, I am a gentleman. You probably just try to sleep with the first girl who walks by. I, on the other hand, want to help the lass. How do we know you aren't trying to take advantage of her?" His eyes glow bright violet with anger and small amounts of magical energy.
Looking to Lelia, he can only smile. 'So innocent. It's kind of cute. Perhaps if my heart wasn't taken...'
The shoanti stands, towering above the two men. His voice is soft, but carries an authority that warns of his seriousness.
"Both of you.... quit. If you wish to insult each other. I reccomend leaving her out of it."
"Not all knowledge can be found in books. And to answer your question, you don't know what I'm up to, just I do not know what any of you are up to: which was my point all along."
He looks pointedly at Lelia. "Do not trust anyone."
He smiles warmly then and opens his arms in an expansive gesture. "Now that we're all uncomfortable and suspicious, let's have a drink and get to know each other!"
At the Shoanti man's prescence, Artyom nods. "Of course, Annach." Turning to their Lelia and the rogue, he says, "I apologize. I just don't like my intelligence and life work being insulted." At the rogue's suggestion, he nods. "Very well. I am Artyom Marisan. Azlanti-descended wizard graduate from the Arcanamirium. Top of my class, too. My goal is to to learn as much about the Thassilonian Empire as possible. I'm looking for a team to aid me in that goal." The thrush then chirps in, "And I'm Ricky! Very nice to meet all of you!"
The Varisian's eyebrows lift.
"Jekk inti tixtieq l-istorja vera ta 'dak imperu qedem, ikollok bzonn Varisian flimkien. X'hemm-paga simili?"
"If you want the true story of that ancient empire, you'll need a Varisian along. What's the pay like?"
At the rogue's words, Artyom replies, "Well. It may not look like it. But I am Varisian as well. Any help would be appreciated. I would like to know what exactly you would add to the group. As for the pay..." Ricky continues, "You'll receive part of what we find as payment. We're positive that the Runelords and their servants made more than just wands, scrolls, and spellbooks. Odds are they might have magic weapons or armor. If not, then we'll be more than happy to enchant what you want."
Seeing Lelia's confused look, the wizard chuckles. "Thassilonian. The language of the old empire that encompassed all of Varisia. If you want, I could teach it to you."
"Two of my family!" The aging rogue throws and arm around Lelia and Artyom's shoulders. "Why didn't you say so!? It is difficult to tell what with how often we breed." He winks at Artyom.
"As for what I can contribute: I am good with locks, and other deterrants. I am good in a fight and I have a sharp tongue."
Weylyn crosses his arms and smiles a smug, confident smile.
"I am of the Sklar-Quah tribe. From the far north." He says simply
Artyom smiles and nods at the girl before the rogue puts an arm around his shoulders. He just has a calm look on his face. "Sounds good. Do you happen to have skill in disarming traps or the like? Also, it would help if I knew your name."
"My name? You are serious?" The Varisian looks incredulous. "You have not heard of Weylyn Dell, the infamous tattooed Varisian? My mother was Ceija the Harrower. My father was Helios the Bard. My tattoos tell the story of our people from the fall of Thassilon. Do you now know me!?"
Weylyn throws back his head and throws out his chest in a dramatic pose, then slumps: his face falling dejectedly.
"Why should you know me? I have not the stomach for fame as my parents did. I shame them with my life. I stay here as a way-house for the family. That is my life of infamy."
Much deflated, Weylyn nurses his wine. His brows lift slightly. "I am good with traps though." He says as if in afterthought.
Artyom looks to Weylyn. "Relax. I know what it's like for your family to be more noticeable than you. My family owns a caravan that travels around Varisia. My mother was a very talented divination wizard. My father... he's a very powerful and well-known cleric of Desna. He's also a Spherewalker. I seek to step from his shadow. To prove that I am just like mother. That my destiny isn't reading holy scriptures and prayer. I'll prove him wrong." The ending bit has a bit of an edge to it. He then says something. But it's under his breath.
Weylyn nods his head slightly. "Thanks for that."