Amunet-Ra of the Serpent Singers politely inclinces her head back to the Lady Arsione of House Nicephous.
Then, Lady Arsione of House Nicephous, let me ask you just how well you know your new allies and their goals, as well as their means.
Methinks you might be wandering from the silt sea right into a coriolis sand storm. One is only to wonder whether you do so unbeknownst or knowing and willingly, possibly thinking you might be in charge of the situation and all it's outcomes?
"Among civilized people it is considered rude to demand one's name without offering your own first."
The tarek grunts in eager recognition,
"What is your price, stranger?"
Suddenly, the cheerful 'Grim' face is serious as she turns her attention fully to the tarek leader. "For you abide by the agreement -- and, I would hope, change your ways. You have slain outright, presumably without parley; this is wrong, and dishonorable. Even should all the rest of your band remain in ambush, you should brace your opponent, to establish without doubt their intentions."
She holds his gaze for a long moment with her own, then gives a little whistling call. "Sha!! Drop down, now, I go into a fight." The speckled hurrum shifts under her robes, the bulge it's making between her shoulderblades sliding down to the small of her back, then down a leg and out from under her shrouds. Skittering ten or so feet away, it turns and chitters/sings/hums at her, causing her to laugh. "Don't I always?" she teases the allied insect, removing then saunters towards Cae.
"Destroying the destroyers, that I can agree with," says the loose-limbed human woman to the two women, the otherwise-sneering Amunet-Ra and the Lady of House Nicephous. "Defiling magic is something which I cannot abide. But from your words," and her gaze settles on Arsinoe, "you do indeed plan on being in control when your tyrant is slain, with your laws already drawn up, instead of considering what the people of your city need. Leadership they need, yes, that I can agree with, and guidance for certain. But at some point you have to let people decide for themselves what mistakes they're going to make. And help them," she gives Amunet-Ra a hard look, "to learn what is honorable and good, instead of deriding or destroying them without knowing their motives. Which is the entire point here, isn't it?"
Looking aside and up at the general area where the still-invisible cat-caller is, she tells him -- or it -- "Civilized people offer their name no matter what. But you've already displayed your lack of civility, egging us on to fight, haven't you? Come down, become seen, and be peaceable, or fvck off."
She frowns thoughfully for a moment more, then shakes her head and steps the few feet further into whatever imaginary arena she and her opponent are entering. She lifts both hands, gesturing Cae towards her. "Shall we dance?"
Gotak will essentially cede initiative to Cae, except that -- should he begin casting a spell or generating a psionic power -- she'll close and strike. All of her strikes will be nonlethal, of course.
Gotak is fighting defensively, for a -1 to her attacks, putting her current AC at 77 / 62 / 59, +4 against melee attacks; her current active Styles are Crane Style (Style, Wing, and Riposte), Panther Style (Style, Claw), and Snake Style (Style, Sidewind). With 3 styles active, she gets a +3 to her attacks, net +2.
Just in case attacks are needed:
And damages:
With Cut from the Air, she can knock away any normal ranged attacks (arrows, throwing knives, spears, etc). As well, you never know when an AoO will present itself, so a handful of those:
And damage if necessary:
The wind picks up speed as Cae waits in his kneeling position for the tareks' response and instruction from his Mistress.
The tarek grunts in eager recognition,
"What is your price, stranger?"
Suddenly, the cheerful 'Grim' face is serious as she turns her attention fully to the tarek leader. "For you abide by the agreement -- and, I would hope, change your ways. You have slain outright, presumably without parley; this is wrong, and dishonorable. Even should all the rest of your band remain in ambush, you should brace your opponent, to establish without doubt their intentions."
She holds his gaze for a long moment with her own, then gives a little whistling call. "Sha!! Drop down, now, I go into a fight." The speckled hurrum shifts under her robes, the bulge it's making between her shoulderblades sliding down to the small of her back, then down a leg and out from under her shrouds. Skittering ten or so feet away, it turns and chitters/sings/hums at her, causing her to laugh. "Don't I always?" she teases the allied insect, removing then saunters towards Cae.
"Destroying the destroyers, that I can agree with," says the loose-limbed human woman to the two women, the otherwise-sneering Amunet-Ra and the Lady of House Nicephous. "Defiling magic is something which I cannot abide. But from your words," and her gaze settles on Arsinoe, "you do indeed plan on being in control when your tyrant is slain, with your laws already drawn up, instead of considering what the people of your city need. Leadership they need, yes, that I can agree with, and guidance for certain. But at some point you have to let people decide for themselves what mistakes they're going to make. And help them," she gives Amunet-Ra a hard look, "to learn what is honorable and good, instead of deriding or destroying them without knowing their motives. Which is the entire point here, isn't it?"
Looking aside and up at the general area where the still-invisible cat-caller is, she tells him -- or it -- "Civilized people offer their name no matter what. But...
The tarek spokesperson grunts,
"We accept."
The wind picks up speed as Cae waits in his kneeling position for the tareks' response and instruction from his Mistress.
"As do I!" says Cae's mistress.
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Thunder breaks overhead as the wind blows the dry heat of the desert through the square. Cae stands gracefully and leans the head of his staff at the newcomer. He attempts to manipulate her fate. Vyse disappears from sight and begins her crooning.
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It's up to you whether or not you want to target Sha, the speckled hurrum -- who is her familiar (not necessarily an obvious thing), but was sent aside.
In any case, saves. Not sure if hexes are considered enchantments or what; all of these look like they are, but I'm not absolutely certain. If they are, +2 to these for Still Mind:
Heh, so soon. Well, fortunately Tug Fate can be resisted; I presume DC 52 as well. Again, ref: Still Mind +2 vs. Enchantments, as above, and as this is simultaneous, the Evil Eye won't affect it:
Whew!!
Okay, so -4 to Saves for the next round.
I think I have all that correct ...
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Action (as previously stated) becomes closing the distance (move) and striking once (standard). Using Attack/Damage #1 above, 70 to attack, 65 damage.
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Gotak is trained in the many ways of Power, whether arcane magic, druidic summonings, or psionic abilities. The stirring of wind and sand and dust is a sure sign of Power stirring, and when the vaguely feline-faced beauty thrusts his staff at her, she springs forward. "Wasn't this," she says as she lashes out at him with her open palm, "supposed to be fisticuffs? And bringing your companion into it as well -- that's just bad form."
** spoiler omitted **
Gotak is trained in the many ways of Power, whether arcane magic, druidic summonings, or psionic abilities. The stirring of wind and sand and dust is a sure sign of Power stirring, and when the vaguely feline-faced beauty thrusts his staff at her, she springs forward. "Wasn't this," she says as she lashes out at him with her open palm, "supposed to be fisticuffs? And bringing your companion into it as well -- that's just bad form."
"Hmmm...." the strange elf purrs, "I wonder how this will turn out!"
"You have a wicked tongue child." called Narzor, clearly unoffended.
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Cae does not engage verbally; he simply looks the newcomer in her eyes as he slips the blow by just barely moving. He reaches out towards her, and tries to lull her into a stupor as Vyse's crooning takes to the air.
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"You have a wicked tongue child." called Narzor, clearly unoffended.
::::"A strange sound suddenly erupts in Narzor's head -- a voice which is at the same time one AND several... "'Child?' strange wanderer? I think you shall find that WE are a great deal older, AND wiser, than YOU imagine!"::::
The cacophony of mental voices erupts into a peal of laughter before subsiding, like a fierce rip tide that has once again gone out to sea...
Amunet-Ra of the Serpent Singers politely inclinces her head back to the Lady Arsione of House Nicephous.
Then, Lady Arsione of House Nicephous, let me ask you just how well you know your new allies and their goals, as well as their means.
Methinks you might be wandering from the silt sea right into a coriolis sand storm. One is only to wonder whether you do so unbeknownst or knowing and willingly, possibly thinking you might be in charge of the situation and all it's outcomes?
"The potentates of House Nicephorus are well-versed in the dangers and vagaries of power and its uses."
** spoiler omitted **
I clearly wasn't speaking to....whoever this is. Narzor thought back at the voice that contacted him.
** spoiler omitted **
::::"Take it as a lesson then. The ONE whom you address is not always the ONE who replies."::::
...
Arsione yells lustily in the ancient Chthonic Tongue, the speech of a sunken island in the Methanous Sea which lies off the western coast of the Land of the Merchant Princes, the source of the sea raider immigrants who founded the Pleiadean City States, and which is still used for curses and ritual speech by the lady's people,
"Hai, by the dreadful powers of the depths below and the deeper deeps underneath, vanquish thou my foes of warrior!"
Well, that's the end of the fight.
Apparently the eye-meeting thing is too much for the wanderer Gotak, for she collapses where she is, dropped into a deep and disturbed slumber.
** spoiler omitted **
Apparently the eye-meeting thing is too much for the wanderer Gotak, for she collapses where she is, dropped into a deep and disturbed slumber.
The tarek spokesman grunts in shock and dismay.
Arsione howls with delight, and speaks again in the strange language of the ancient Dreaming Isle of Myconia to her returned consort,
"Aye! By the dread powers of the deep and deeper deeps, you have prevailed my chosen one! Blood spills for your favor!"
The tarek gazes plaintively at Hamza,
"This was a ill-fought and dishonorable contest. Surely, you cannot expect us to abide by its foul fruits? I request that you parlay another combat so that the matter may be fairly decided!"
Cae catches the woman as she slips to the ground, gently laying her down. He spends several moments over her before rising to his feet. He projects his deep musical voice to say:
"The challenge is completed,
Your champion defeated."
Being gently lain down does little for the woman, since she's thrashing about.
From behind the outcropping from which it watched, the little -- well, okay, large -- insect skitters out, swaying for a moment as its mistress thrashes this way and that, then dodges a flailing arm and onto her torso.
Cae looks at Arsione quizzically, uncertain as to what she is saying as the wind howls around the square. Kneeling back down, he attempts to shake Gotak awake if the insect allows him. If so, he offers a reassuring look and a hand up as he stands.
He turns, glaring at the tarek challenging the result. Thunder rolls and lightning falls out of the mostly clear sky, striking next to the tarek, but not quite hitting him.
"The heavens support the contest,
Pray tell, what is your protest?"
Cae looks at Arsione quizzically, uncertain as to what she is saying as the wind howls around the square. Kneeling back down, he attempts to shake Gotak awake if the insect allows him. If so, he offers a reassuring look and a hand up as he stands.
He turns, glaring at the tarek challenging the result. Thunder rolls and lightning falls out of the mostly clear sky, striking next to the tarek, but not quite hitting him.
"The heavens support the contest,
Pray tell, what is your protest?"
[dice=Intimidate]1d20+50
The tarek issues a feral grunt as it bellows its reply to Cae,
"Combat is made with blows and weapons, not these dirty tricks!"
The insect turns and gives a warning buzz at the man, but a few moments later the woman starts to stir. The thunderstrike virtually within arm's reach would be enough to wake the dead, though, and she rolls away from it, hands up in a combat stance. "Ah!!" she exclaims a moment later, seeing the face-off between her recent opponent and the tarek, and straightens.
"I take it someone doesn't like that you didn't fight with your fists, as was implied?" She sounds wryly rueful.
The tarek merely growls again at Cae.
Arsinoe approaches her victorious champion, the lumbering automatons follow close the billowing train of her luxurious mantle.
"Fear not, my warrior, for we shall dispatch these brutes if they fail to honor the terms of our compact."
Gotak's head turns towards Arsinoe, her expression one of annoyance. "That had better not be your answer for everything, lady."
"The only payment I asked was for you to abide by the agreement. My opponent has power, power sufficient to overcome me in a matter of moments -- swift and nonlethal. Would you care to have a more traditional contest with me, nonlethal as before, just to prove that what he did to me, he could do to you -- or worse, since for all intents and purposes he was holding back??" Ah, perhaps here is where her epithet 'grim' comes from ...
Hamza once more attempts to play mediator. "I must agree with the tarek. The suggestion was for a non-lethal fist fight, or similar test of arms, in the vein of 'might makes right'. You chose Cae to be your champion, but I have never seen him throw a punch or land a kick, or otherwise do anything else that might physically harm a foe. I can certainly understand their frustration at being denied a real duel."
Hamza once more attempts to play mediator. "I must agree with the tarek. The suggestion was for a non-lethal fist fight, or similar test of arms, in the vein of 'might makes right'. You chose Cae to be your champion, but I have never seen him throw a punch or land a kick, or otherwise do anything else that might physically harm a foe. I can certainly understand their frustration at being denied a real duel."
Arsinoe chuckles as she addresses Cae, "Brave warrior, what do you say? Will you stand against another of these brutes for your mistress?"
Her expression then hardens as Arisone's thin lips tighten,
"However, the champion who is defeated by mine must forfeit his life."
Hamza once more attempts to play mediator. "I must agree with the tarek. The suggestion was for a non-lethal fist fight, or similar test of arms, in the vein of 'might makes right'. You chose Cae to be your champion, but I have never seen him throw a punch or land a kick, or otherwise do anything else that might physically harm a foe. I can certainly understand their frustration at being denied a real duel."
The tarek spokesman searches Hamza's face for reassurance,
"The warrior Goorng among our war band seeks to remit a great debt. Though we do not seek the sacrifice of his life, he would risk it in the hope of lifting this great burden from his own shoulders, and those of his clan, Clan Ge'thraank."
Gotak says drily -- and perhaps pointedly -- "Is he going to restrict himself to a physical test of arms?" She looks towards the tarek, gesturing that she's still available -- though she can understand them not wanting to take her up on the offer.
Gotak says drily -- and perhaps pointedly -- "Is he going to restrict himself to a physical test of arms?" She looks towards the tarek, gesturing that she's still available -- though she can understand them not wanting to take her up on the offer.
The tarek snarls, "You have had your opportunity to prove your worth, wanderer, and have been found sorely wanting. Do you truly wish, now, with the more severe terms of the combat, to offer your life alongside your dignity?"
Gotak says drily -- and perhaps pointedly -- "Is he going to restrict himself to a physical test of arms?" She looks towards the tarek, gesturing that she's still available -- though she can understand them not wanting to take her up on the offer.
Arsione clucks with amusement,
"It really matters not, the lōtanu will be perfectly well satisfied with the soul of either."
Gotak smiles, cheerful once more. "Well, for one, yes -- I do, every time, put my life on the line when I walk onto a battlefield. I thought it was a more standard sort of battlefield, though, as he says," and here she gestures towards Hamza, "and kept my allies clear of it, as an honorable woman does when entering a fight between two champions. My opponent chose to meet my skill at hand with powers other than those of arm and weapon."
She turns towards the bloodthirsty b!tch, then, and says, "And no. You do not get to change the end result of this. It was to be a contest, a judging and repayment without bloodshed. If you demand a death, then you must acquiesce to the same treatment of your own champion, should he lose. Are you willing for yours to give his blood to the sand in a fight with only strength and weapon?"
Gotak smiles, cheerful once more. "Well, for one, yes -- I do, every time, put my life on the line when I walk onto a battlefield. I thought it was a more standard sort of battlefield, though, as he says," and here she gestures towards Hamza, "and kept my allies clear of it, as an honorable woman does when entering a fight between two champions. My opponent chose to meet my skill at hand with powers other than those of arm and weapon."
She turns towards the bloodthirsty b!tch, then, and says, "And no. You do not get to change the end result of this. It was to be a contest, a judging and repayment without bloodshed. If you demand a death, then you must acquiesce to the same treatment of your own champion, should he lose. Are you willing for yours to give his blood to the sand in a fight with only strength and weapon?"
Arsione replies curtly,
"I am not the one who has requested a renewed combat, and thus reneged on the existing terms of the parlay. Consequently, it is perfectly within my rights to request an appropriate increase in the wages owed by my champion's assured second victory over these uncouth savages."
"Also," she reflects wistfully, "I believe the that the lōtanu becomes only more ravenous with each life it claims, and so we must, by the by, arrange for its proper nourishment."
Take 10 on KS skills is 58 or more. Vas ist das?
"On the contrary -- your champion was the one who did not engage in what was stated and understood, a contest of strength of arms. If he had called down the lightning as is clear he can, he would have been in no more open violation than he was. The tarek have no more reneged than you."
"As mediator of this dispute, I must side with Gotak and the tarek. The stated contest was for a fist fight or similar physical challenge. Also, it was meant to be one on one, but Cae had the help of his familiar. Thus, he violated the rules of engagement. I would give the victory to his opponent, but she and the tarek have called for a re-match. I see no reason to grant them one, nor do I think the loser needs to forfeit their life. What is this lōtanu you speak of, and is it a neural entity or one of your own culture. If the latter, you should not force those who aren't of your people to feed it."
** spoiler omitted **
"On the contrary -- your champion was the one who did not engage in what was stated and understood, a contest of strength of arms. If he had called down the lightning as is clear he can, he would have been in no more open violation than he was. The tarek have no more reneged than you."
It's difficult to know what the Lady Arsinoe means by the use of the term 'lōtanu'. This is a word from the ancient Chthonic language of the Island of Myconia, whose storied climes were the birth place of the Pleiadean culture of the city-states of the western shore of the Land of the Merchant Princes on the Continent of Saan-Gabiathan. It's civilization was ended by a terrible volcanic eruption which destroyed the isle and rendered it an inhabitable waste. In these ancient times, the great cities of Myconia such as Urgrarat hunted the great beasts of the Sea of Portals, the body of living water that would eventually be despoiled as the twin basins of pollution known as the Sea of Silt and the Methanous Sea. These were referred to as the lōtanim, and it is said that their rich blubber provided the oil by which the paper lanterns of the great Myconian cities were kept alight.
The creatures also figured prominently in Myconian mythology, and were seen as among the first inhabitants of the great dark sea at the beginning of time. Remnants of this complex tradition are said to continue in the City-State of Cuthoga on the shores of the Methanous Sea, one of the remnant Pleiadean city-states established after the untimely fall of Myconia. There is said to be a Cult of the Lotanu in the more unseemly reaches of district known as the Harborwatch, which protrudes perilously over the tainted waters of the Bay of Hunger.
It seems likely that the lady is using the term metaphorically in some fashion.
"As mediator of this dispute, I must side with Gotak and the tarek. The stated contest was for a fist fight or similar physical challenge. Also, it was meant to be one on one, but Cae had the help of his familiar. Thus, he violated the rules of engagement. I would give the victory to his opponent, but she and the tarek have called for a re-match. I see no reason to grant them one, nor do I think the loser needs to forfeit their life. What is this lōtanu you speak of, and is it a neural entity or one of your own culture. If the latter, you should not force those who aren't of your people to feed it."
"What, then," she queries the yaksa, "would be your solution, as you neither accept my champion's noble victory, nor our opponent's request for a renewed combat?"
"As to the lōtanu it is the great power whose wisdom guides our fulsome allies, a race of travelers from a distant world known as the slassans. The lōtanu is the mind of one of the ancient powers that created the slassans and many other races on many worlds. They were known by many names, including that of 'Stoneburner'. The mind of this ancient being survives in a pyramid of invincible adamantium from which emanates the black light which gives more and greater life to those who are blessed with its vivifying rays. It can also draw forth the life force of those offered to slake its hunger, and this is a task which has consumed much of my House's energies over several moons, for while it's blessings only increase, so do it's appetites. But that is the price we must pay for the boons granted by its powers, which hold they key to overthrowing the unrighteous reign of the sorcerer-kings."
As she comes closer to him, Hamza holds out his kama to keep Arsione at bay."Please do not come any closer. I have seen that you are somehow able to sap the strength of those near you. Also, as I suspected, it is something of your own culture. I do not think you should force those who aren't from your House or of your people to sacrifice their lives to feed it. If you are having trouble keeping it's hunger in check, that is your own problem."
"As an observer, I am afraid I must agree with the assessment. The use of mystic arts in a non-mystic duel is a poor showing, although there was certainly no provision that I heard in the terms of the duel that prohibited such, I would still say that if your goal is to avoid bloodshed and war (which, frankly, is rather silly), then you might wish to reconsider your stance on using magic and resort to barbarism."
"Also, my dear lady, I would point out that nothing from the positive energy plane radiates black light. But I digress."
"Or hey, how about not at all?" suggests the wanderer. "I understand the circle of life, predator, prey, plant, and all, but consuming souls and being eternally hungry for more -- that's as much a defiler curse as taking bites off the planet's life-force to power your magic. Sounds like you've made a deal with a greater evil in order to get a lesser one's foot off your neck. Are you sure you're one of the good guys? Scratch that last, everyone thinks they're the good guys. Pretty sure feeding souls, willing or not, into the gaping spirit-maw of some Power or another just so it can give you power back isn't the kind of thing a smart or wise person would do." She considers this, then adds judiciously, "Popular person might."
As she comes closer to him, Hamza holds out his kama to keep Arsione at bay."Please do not come any closer. I have seen that you are somehow able to sap the strength of those near you. Also, as I suspected, it is something of your own culture. I do not think you should force those who aren't from your House or of your people to sacrifice their lives to feed it. If you are having trouble keeping it's hunger in check, that is your own problem."
Arsione clucks with amusement as she stops short,
"Oh, you may think what you want, but we have fed it's hunger only with those we have gathered from our habitual reconnaissance of the ruins of Kalidnay. There are many foolish souls from the inhabitants of boom town of New Kallid on the outskirts of this venerable metropolis who have provided ample sustenance thus far, and perhaps we will soon conquer this settlement to furnish a more enduring supply for our future ambitions. Rest assured, we shall simply have to seek another offering if we do not procure one from this present encounter, for the ancient one's hunger shall not be slaked."