The words penetrate the fog of sickness and stinky tea. Alaric nods and holds Mel close: "You're lucky. Koya and I might be a fool and a charlatan, but if there's one thing we have some experience in, it's protecting the living from the dead.
Looking at Koya, but leaning into Alaric, It's gonna get worse as we get closer, isn't it? But turning around won't make her any better either, will it? She is shivering despite the now not rain filled sky.
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"Mel is quiet for a moment, but when she looks at Hrithik there is a great deal of caution written clear in her eyes, I can understand why you would think otherwise, but please be clear on this. When I make a promise, or offer to repay a favor, it is done knowing fully what that means and taking full responsibility for it. Now I do wish to repay your favor, but I won't agree without knowing what I'm agreeing to. What is this all-the-time thing that you would want from me?"
"Honesty."
Hrithik pauses to think, the white light back in his pupils. "Radical honesty. Not about personal trivia, but about things that matter. Honesty to admit you have an agenda in asking for specific lore. Honesty to seek that lore even if it is unconfortable. Honesty to admit to inappropriate wit from the spirits within. Honesty to air your demons, should you desire the same honesty from me in turn. Honesty to gather your many Sandpoint friends and the rest of our group and share what they need to know about Ameiko, about you, about me."
Hrithik pauses. "For example, whatever we seek in Brinewall is so ridiculously well warded that only the gods can learn about it. I wanted to tell Lady Ameiko when we got close, but now she is ill and increasingly delerious, and I must wonder if that is connected. I should have told more people, but it would begin airing demons that only she and Master Sandru know about, so I haven't and so we are where we are."
"If you want the favor of my knowledge, free from editing or agenda, I need the same favor from you. If you want a first name basis to our relationship, we need to be some flavor of friend or colleague, not traveling companions with deep and dark fundamental secrets from one another."
Having finally said it all, Hrithik relaxes somewhat. He smiles faintly. "For starters, what was so gut-bustingly, inappropriately funny? For reasons you don't know yet, I deeply resent being the butt of unexplained laughter. Whether you intend it or no, that's how that comes across, and how just Alaric came across with Reta during her lesson."
Looking at Koya, but leaning into Alaric, It's gonna get worse as we get closer, isn't it? But turning around won't make her any better either, will it? She is shivering despite the now not rain filled sky.
"I'm guessin' we'll find out," says Koya. "But if the dead aren't havin' the decency to get on with bein' dead and quit troublin' the living, we'll give 'em a good talking to."
She pauses, and turns to Alaric. "(Am I the fool or the charlatan, by the way? I like charlatan better.)"
She pauses, and turns to Alaric. "(Am I the fool or the charlatan, by the way? I like charlatan better.)"
Alaric grins at this. "I don't *koff* know that we'll ever settle that question."
"We can't push the horse to go faster, really. But we can travel for longer each day, well into the night. I don't think it's a good idea, though. Especially if we don't know if going faster will make Ameiko get worse faster. The longer we're on the road each day, the more tired we get. The more tired we are, the more likely we are to miss things, get things wrong." Kalimac finishes with a sympathetic look at Mel.
Kalimac takes a sip, grimacing. "Ugh. Do I even want to ask what is in this?"
"Not if you want to keep it down."
She looks at him, no games, no nothing really, I prefer honesty. I came to you because I believe there is a good chance that I'm going insane. It runs in the family. If the voice in my head is real, however, then I may not.
"We can't push the horse to go faster, really. But we can travel for longer each day, well into the night. I don't think it's a good idea, though. Especially if we don't know if going faster will make Ameiko get worse faster. The longer we're on the road each day, the more tired we get. The more tired we are, the more likely we are to miss things, get things wrong." Kalimac finishes with a sympathetic look at Mel.
Mel smiles shakily at the halfling, No, can't do that. The real fight will be at Brinewall. Need everyone in top shape. She looks at Alaric and Kalimac, Which means, no more sick. Better now, please?
Mel smiles shakily at the halfling, No, can't do that. The real fight will be at Brinewall. Need everyone in top shape. She looks at Alaric and Kalimac, Which means, no more sick. Better now, please?
Kalimac grins. "I promise to get better if it means no more tea from Alaric."
"Did anyone find anything around the chest or anywhere that might have possibly been a warning of a possible family curse or something about protection from curses or anything? Could there be any more secret compartments we might have missed?"
Looking at Kalimac, shudders "is it really that bad?"
Kalimac grins. "I promise to get better if it means no more tea from Alaric."
"The true secret of *hack* bad-tasting medicine."
"Myri, I think it's probably worse. I'm so stuffed up, I can't taste anything. And I still think it tastes awful. I can't imagine how bad it really is." The half-smirk on Kalimac's face says that he is probably exaggerating. But not by a lot.
At what he judges to be a suitable distance from the caravan not to disturb anyone, Rhost limbers up and starts breaking earth with his Earth Breaker.
He's not really intending to carry on for very long, just break a sweat and get the Hammer Swinging muscles back into shape. But he gets a bit carried away, and quite a lot of earth is broken before he is done.
Myri shudders again, moving past Kalimac to check on Ameiko again. She does not bother her if she is resting. Assuming not, she tries a brave smile and asks, "Any changes? Do we know where Grandfather is now?"
At what he judges to be a suitable distance from the caravan not to disturb anyone, Rhost limbers up and starts breaking earth with his Earth Breaker.
He's not really intending to carry on for very long, just break a sweat and get the Hammer Swinging muscles back into shape. But he gets a bit carried away, and quite a lot of earth is broken before he is done.
You know, when I'm in that mood... I normally hit trees. But I don't do anywhere near the damage that you do. says Mel when it seems the large man is done. She still seems out of sorts from the day. Dirty, sweaty. Actually not true, until he went away, I would pick a fight with my brother. Mom started turning it into practice.
It has now been two weeks since an unlikely band of ragtag adventurers first set off to end a series of Goblin raids. Since then, they have traveled far, made new friends, started new rivalries, and gained more than a little experience of the world.
That band is now beset by ailments both natural and otherwise. Everyone is a bit tired today, as they were kept awake by a bizarre incidence of noise late on the previous night that sounded vaguely like someone attacking the landscape with an enormous hammer. Myriana, in particular, looks exhausted, with deep bags under her bloodshot eyes. She seems barely able to stay on her feet.
However, Koya is once again able to restore what health to Kalimac and Alaric that natural sleep cannot provide, and perhaps that, combined with Alaric’s potent patent medicine, will mean that they might finally recover from their fever.
It has now become clear that whatever ails Ameiko, it is not natural at all. Various attempts are made to help, that begin to seem increasingly desperate. All of her equipment is gone over with detect magic, but nothing unexpected is found. Sandru orders the Caravan to start backtracking, to see if it will help, but instead Ameiko immediately goes into screaming convulsions, writhing on the ground and shouting, ”Beware the cuckolded cuckoo! It is in his shattered silent love you should seek aid!” This continues until Sandru orders the Caravan to proceed once again towards Brinewall.
It comes as little surprise to anyone when a meeting is called to discuss the situation. Everyone attends, including a glassy-eyed Ameiko. An attempt is made to start the discussion on a pleasant note, with Rhost’s latest creation being served, and Sandru announcing that Myriana has ”something special” to give to everyone.
But there is a clear sense of worry in the air.
Day 12 Fortitude Save:
Day 12 Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21
Day 12 Fortitude Save:
Presumably bright-eyed, Alaric looks over at the recovered Kalimac. "Looks like I managed to find the one thing you're scared of. My medical care."
Presumably bright-eyed, Alaric looks over at the recovered Kalimac. "Looks like I managed to find the one thing you're scared of. My medical care."
Kalimac gives Alaric a bright smile. "Amen. Let's not do that again."
Rhost leans on his hammer and surveys the damage to the landscape. A drop of sweat rolls off his nose and falls to the dirt. He is panting lightly. "Practice? Sparring?"
Rhost is still working on the practical details of baking bread without an oven. Flatbreads filled with a completely unidentifiable paste are Rhost's creation for Day 12. There are two different paste fillings to choose from, a brownish one, and a greenish one. Also, soup again for those who feel under the weather.
Rhost leans on his hammer and surveys the damage to the landscape. A drop of sweat rolls off his nose and falls to the dirt. He is panting lightly. "Practice? Sparring?"
Mel nods, remembers not everyone can see in the dark, and says, Yeah. Except since my brother preferred sword to fist, I always had a slight advantage, since Mom requested that we not kill each other. Her voice picks up a little, a cheerfulness that has been noticeably absent today, Needed it too. My brother is both stronger and smarter than me. She chuckles, I was always faster.
"Did it help?" Rhost shoulders up his hammer.
Being faster or normally getting the tar beat out of me? She smiles, The first sometimes, the second nearly always.
Rhost is still working on the practical details of baking bread without an oven. Flatbreads filled with a completely unidentifiable paste are Rhost's creation for Day 12. There are two different paste fillings to choose from, a brownish one, and a greenish one. Also, soup again for those who feel under the weather.
Alaric accepts a green flatbread, apparently thrilled to be back on solid food.
Rhost smiles back. "Any tar left?"
Alaric accepts a green flatbread, apparently thrilled to be back on solid food.
The brown ones taste of meat plus spices. The green ones taste of beans plus spices. The soup is chicken, again.
Rhost is still working on the practical details of baking bread without an oven. Flatbreads filled with a completely unidentifiable paste are Rhost's creation for Day 12. There are two different paste fillings to choose from, a brownish one, and a greenish one. Also, soup again for those who feel under the weather.
Mel smiles at the large half-elf as she takes one of the green-filled flatbreads. The wince as her arm is stretched out is barely noticeable. When she sees Alaric take bread, she smiles. Really not-sick now? She smiles, Good. Being... doesn't come natural.
Rhost smiles back. "Any tar left?"
She chuckles, Always. It seems to grow proportionally to the number of times I get hurt. She looks at the hammer. But I don't think I'll be able to get back up at all if you hit me with that thing. There would be breaking. Not good breaking.
Mel smiles at the large half-elf as she takes one of the green-filled flatbreads. The wince as her arm is stretched out is barely noticeable. When she sees Alaric take bread, she smiles. Really not-sick now? She smiles, Good. Being... doesn't come natural.
"Being...?" he asks, prompting her to finish the thought.
Rhost nods. "Spar unarmed best. No breaking."
"Being...?" he asks, prompting her to finish the thought.
She smiles at him, I don't to the nuturing thing well. She shrugs, then her eyes get worried again, Which is why I haven't been of any use. Motioning to the women's wagon.
Rhost nods. "Spar unarmed best. No breaking."
Motioning to the light armor that Rhost always wears, If you're keeping that, do I get to use mine?
She smiles at him, I don't to the nuturing thing well. She shrugs, then her eyes get worried again, Which is why I haven't been of any use. Motioning to the women's wagon.
"We all have our specialties. As for that, none of us have been of any use." He says this last with clear frustration.
Motioning to the light armor that Rhost always wears, If you're keeping that, do I get to use mine?
Rhost peels off the chainmail shirt, and sets it on the ground. "Little mud won't hurt." He lays his hammer across the shirt. "Anything else?"
"We all have our specialties. As for that, none of us have been of any use." He says this last with clear frustration.
She turns to him, Hey, don't. That she motions to the wagon, is not something natural. Ergo, not something that can be so easily fixed. She reaches out and squezes his hand. This morning, if nothing else, should validate that.
Rhost peels off the chainmail shirt, and sets it on the ground. "Little mud won't hurt." He lays his hammer across the shirt. "Anything else?"
Seeing that Rhost is still a bit out of breath from his workout, whereas she has mostly recovered from her own, Breathe. When you are... a bit more recovered from... she motions at the broken earth.
Rhost waves dismissively at the broken ground. "As you are ready."
Rhost waves dismissively at the broken ground. "As you are ready."
She gently puts her nearly ever present backpack on the ground, top open to allow egress of the cat inside. Leans her staff against a tree, and quickly pulls the overlarge shirt off and hangs it from the staff. Beneath she is wearing a series of long wraps that reveal a great deal more of her shape without actually being at all inappropriate.
She smiles, stretching, head cocked slightly waiting for a movement from the larger fighter.
Rhost starts to circle, squinting to concentrate the low light.
Init -
To Hit:
Damage:
Rhost darts in, leading off with an elbow to the stomach. He seems almost surprised when Melinda doesn't get out of the way.
damage
*current AC 13, current hp 8
Mel's breath is almost knocked out of her by Rhost's blow, but she recovers much more quickly than expected. With a slight shift in her weight, she moves to his side. A swift blow with the ridge of her hand hits the back of his head, hopefully leaving his ears ringing.
Rhost current HP 33
Mel's AoO to hit:
Mel's AoO damage:
Rhost current HP ... still 33
Rhost to hit:
Rhost damage:
Rhost steps sideways into Melinda. Her elbow shoots out to intercept his solar plexus, but just glances off his side. He returns the favor, connecting solidly with his elbow just below her rib cage.
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*30 feet away from Rhost ~ which would be good, except for the whole barbarian thing
current AC 13, hp 3
Mel drops slightly, attempting to sweep Rhost's legs out from under him. Sadly for her his sheer bulk is just too much for her to knock down. Swearing under her breath in goblin she dodges away ending up on the far side of the clearing.
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"I've been being polite, since that was what you seemed to want. I would have given more honesty if it didn't feel like you are constantly calculating the odds to what falls in your favor. What he said was "This is the man who just said he is not fond of childish displays of drama?" I prefer honesty. I came to you because I believe there is a good chance that I'm going insane. It runs in the family. If the voice in my head is real, however, then I may not."
When the joke is said, Hrithik laughs. While he grows more solemn as Melinda continues, he still has a hint of a smile when she is done.
"The voice in your head is a witty Orc. Whether it is real or a figment of your own creative muse, I do not know, but you should journal what it tells you, see if you can catch it revealing secrets that you could not know that later turn out to be true."
Hrithik moves back to the box be had been using as a chair, and sits down again. "That said, I fear Mr. Godsfist has the wrong of it, and you, as I would expect, have the right. All of this," Hrithik says, his left hand suddenly manifesting the copy of Forge Psalms and popping it open, "Is not childish drama. Childish drama is acting out but not accomplishing anything. Childish drama is a tantrum, sound and fury signifying nothing. As I said, I am not a fan."
Hrithik looks Melinda deeply in the eyes, his pupils alight. "All of this," he repeats, gesturing around his apparatus and manifesting a pair of pretty floral panties sized for a goblin in his right hand, "Is old people drama. One step from lichdom, withered claw clutching the scepter, very very old people drama. Rigid, controlling, disciplined, ruthless old people drama. High-stakes drama, played to win. And I learned it in my bones, every day of my childhood, at the hem of an undisputed Drama God-Empress of Cheliax."
Hrithik leans back, smiling, pupils bright, his right hand somehow Cat's Cradling the floral panties into intricate patterns. "I try to have a sense of fun about it. I make it a point of honor to not use it in malice. But what you said as a point of derision is what I am as a point of pride: I am and must be a constant calculator."
Hrithik's pupils glow more brightly, and begin scanning back and forth. "I will never forget anything I see. I will never touch without transforming what I touch. I will never behold anything or anyone without seeing the math equations, running the alchemical reactions, and deriving the final products of every possible path."
Hrithik's voice grows more intense, building toward his conclusion, as he rivets Melinda with his gaze. "I will never fail those I love without visualizing every possible way I could have succeeded for them. I will know and remember every failure until my dying day. So yes, I will always calculate the path that serves them best, and I will always use every single tool at my disposal on their behalf. If I get sloppy or half-hearted, if all of this," Hrithik waves at the apparatus behind him, "Gets out of kilter, I could blow you all to Asmodeus. So I control it, calculate it, and endlessly run the numbers. To keep you safe, and better served."
His pupils blazing, "I am disciplined for your benefit, to not fail you. I am rigid and precisely dramatic for your privilege. If you want the fruits of that, they have always been yours for the asking."
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Rhost current HP 33
Mel's AoO to hit:
Mel's AoO damage:
Rhost current HP 29
Rhost to hit:
Rhost damage:
Rhost stalks across the broken field carefully, and with purpose. Looking neither to left nor to right, he walks right through Melinda's uppercut (biting his tongue in the process), and brings his forehead down into the top of her head. She falls over backwards, hitting her head on the only unbroken rock in the entire field. Her chest rises and falls, but she doesn't stir.
