This is where general GAME RELATED chat goes!
* Cross table chat.
* Roleplay fun
* Plaintive cries for divine intervention.
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A tall elf wearing the black robes of the Pharasmin faith enters the room, with a thin flute of champagne. Standing in the corner, he listens quietly, nodding to those passing nearby with the awkwardness of someone badly pretending to be drinking. He nods to Eadie, but apprehension fills his eyes at the sight of the woman. He does not seem to care about the rest of the gathering overmuch.
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“Not likely.”
Eadie scratches her nose, while water sloshes around in the glass she holds near her face.
“My mother was a paladin of Abadar and I was conceived immaculately when the Spirit of Enterprise visited her one Taxfest eve.”
"In fact I suspect I have never seen half of them."
“That’s pretty normal at a Pathfinder gathering in my experience, Ser. Excuse me for a sec …”
She yells near Solomon’s ear.
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The young woman that pops up suddenly in front of Yanndu doesn't seem to be even trying to guard her thoughts, but it's a sheer cacophony in that head he may not want to peer to closely at. It's a mixed bag of a dozen different conversations and lines of thought that belly the the lazy, bored expression on her face.
She leans up onto the points of her boots, getting just a bit uncomfortably close to the elf before giving him a big grin and trying to slap him on the arm all friendly. "Heya pal, I can't blame ya for hidin' over here. This all a whole bunch of talk and I stopped listening... hope it wasn't important. What are you up to? Busy? I got a lil' bit of a question for ya, since you're all learned about the dead and stuff, right?"
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A servant woman has been keeping busy all day flitting about, taking orders, making small talk with the various Pathfinders.
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Yanndu peers deeply into his crystal champagne flute, and through it, at the innocuous servant working the room. This goes on for several minutes. Until you see a gleam in his otherwise black eye...
[Sense Motive/Prognostication, Burst of Insisght, Four-Leaf Clover, Taking 10 ==> 10+15+4+2 = 31]
Yanndu is able to see the woman's true training and abilities, but not quite unable to see the full extent of her power nor discern her fortune for the upcoming future... a swirl of chaos surrounds that one. Sometimes chaos is directed by someone. Sometimes it is self-directed. Question is: who is she working the room for?
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Seren is oblivious to the fact Yanndu is barely giving her any heed, and begins to ramble at him in something approaching nonsense. She makes a point of trying not to stick out too much by casually leaning against the wall, but it fails. She still looks like a lost waif.
"So I got all these ghosts, right? And they keep followin' me, cause I gotta help them figure out where they belon', yeah? Well I figure, you're dressed up like a Lady of Graves sort of fellow. Maybe you could take'em all.. and I dunno, give'em to your goddess fort sortin' or somethin'? I really need a good nap!"
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Yanndu puts the champagne flute down on a nearby table, contents untouched. He strides confidently towards the so called 'mundane' servant, and stops within 10 feet of her.
He smiles at her.
[Empath feat, Perception/Read Aura, Four-Leaf Clover, Taking 10 ==> 10 + 17 + 2 = 29]
Yanndu looks at the emotion auras surrounding the servant, and learn her disposition and attitude toward any creatures within 30 feet of her. He keeps the information for himself, and does not broadcast these thoughts via the telepathic bond he shares with his assigned partners on this mission... after committing her allegiances to memory, he resumes the listening of thoughts throughout the room. Whatever this upcoming mission is about, what was gained here in this room will pay off for decades to come, thinks Yanndu.
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Returning to his spot, Yanndu addresses the young lady with her talk of ghosts. The young lady hears a voice in her head that drowns out all the ghosts.
***...these ghosts...show them to me...I can tear them apart and send them to their proper judgement, if you desire...are they...impending your personal growth?...***
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Kahwen follows close behind Jeskit, the difference in their size and his coloration making him seem like some sort of odd shadow.
He holds up 2 fingers to the bartender, silently indicating that he also wants an ale.
He taps his mug, when it comes, against the nagaji's in a toast.
"These are the best missions. When you get to work with lots of or he Pathfinders for the same goal and get to see the high level agents at work. This one time, we went to a comet!" he tells his teammate.
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Antonius circulates around the room quietly chatting with a mix of people, both new and old. He seems particularly interested in new Pathfinders, encouraging them to explore, report and co-operate. He avoids the loud Eadie who makes his head hurt and, to Yanddu, simply doesnt seem to be there at all.
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an obvious hillbilly -- trying (unsuccessfully) to look dressed up -- carries a large jug into the fray; a painted beer mug on the side is a conspicuous image of Cayden Cailean's holy symbol, prominently displayed on the jug.
He catches sight of Solomon Goodman, and approaches a possible kindred spirit:
"Hey there, Mr Half-orc, sir! () Ah'm Duhwoo X. McKeener, pig-farmer an' part-time 'venturer...y'wanna try some o' this here 'lightnin' juice? () -- makes dancin' jus' a bit funner'n it is without it..." ()
if a vessel is offered, a fine turpentine reduction will be added to the contents...then Duhwoo takes a swig straight from the jug, and leans in close -- taking a conspiratorial tone:
"Ah shore hopes we gits ta git some sword swingin' in t'day..."
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Coming out of nowhere, Aelwynd quickly glides up to Duhwoo and Solomon, his face alight with mischief.
The half elf is incredibly well dressed for a pirate, with jewels and fine stitching artfully matched to expertly cut cloth. He carries himself with a smooth grace that only comes from extreme self confidence. His Tricorn hat is festooned with plumes and the sign of Besmara is prominently displayed in gold. He openly wears an amulet of Cayden around his neck.
"Why hello there my large friend!" he says to the hillbilly.
"Solomon and I were just talking about revelry in the name of Cayden and how much we enjoy it, weren't we Solomon..." With hardly a pause, he just smiles and nods as if answering for his friend.
Almost immediately he continues to speak, obvious enthusiasm in his voice,"I couldn't help but overhear you mention 'lightnin' juice. I always say, it isn't a Cayden party, till someone brings the lightning." Looking around and then leaning in with a conspiratorial tone in his voice,"But I suppose they might frown on things here if we over do it, so perhaps just one snort of the good stuff for Solomon. What do you say, eh?" His smile is genuine, and his eyes shine with honest enjoyment of the moment.
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A confident, young halfling enters.
Wow, I sense a lot of experience here... I could learn something...
His confidence is tempered a little at this thought. He sits nearer to the younger looking pathfinders at the bar to order an ale and get comfortable.
Pull up a stool, friend. Lots of big and scary personalities in here. We rookies should stick together.
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A human man steps over towards Seren Seven. His eyes seem far away for a man of his years. A silver emblem of Pharasma hangs from his neck. "Could help but overhear. You said the undead torment you?! This should be remedied pronto. What's dead should stay dead! You cannot avoid judgment at the boneyard!"
The man seems overly annoyed the artifact is being auctioned and concerned of how he may be judged in the boneyard when the time comes.
A black raven swoops down moments after Edgar's outburst. Landing on a chair nearby, he speaks. "Pardon my friend here. He's...a bit high strung."
Glaring at the human, it offers a wing to Seren. "I'm Allen. My ill-mannered friend here is Edgar."
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"Whoa, that's the most serious answer I ever got... I dunno if you should destroy them, just get'em where they gotta go, yeah?" Seren glances around the room before looking back at Yanndu, her face twisted as she considers his words. "They impede it lots! They make me do thin's like learn to read holy books, and how to knit, and then throw fireballs... I should be practicin' my routines for the troupe, though! Or readin' somethin' less boring at least..."
She jumps to the side and points at the air where she was just standing. "They're all right here? Can'tcha see'em? They follow me EVERYWHERE. A few aren't so b--" She immediately becomes distracted by the presence Edgar at her side. "That's what I'm sayin'! But they keep followin' and tellin' me they don't know how to get there... like it's my problem."
She takes a swipe at the air she had pointed to previously, then jerks her thumb over her shoulder while looking at Edgar. "I mean, did you hear what he just said? Some of them are just rude." Then birds are talking and the day just gets better. She takes Allen's wing carefully, but shakes it with barely contained vigor. "Oye, Allen. Did you know you're a parrot? You're the second really smart animal I've seen today! Where'd you all come from, and how do I get one?"
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Duhwoo eagerly pours a proper dose of fermented-to-the-point-of-flammable liquid into Aelwynd’s container, takes another swig himself, wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and remarks to his two new drinking buddies:
”Welp, Ah reckon the most ‘xcitement we might git from a dumb ‘ol auction might be whut Ah brung in a couple jugs — so let’s partake...”
He does glance around warily:
”But then agin, Ah kin tell ya, tho — Ah been ta a few Pathfinder shindigs like this whut broke out inta fightin’ an’ ‘venturin’ b’for they wuz over — best not ta hit the ‘ol sauce so hard ya ain’t ready ta fight!”
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Pull up a stool, friend. Lots of big and scary personalities in here. We rookies should stick together.
Telos turns to see who addressed him and has a bit of trouble hiding shock on his face when he sees a snake man. He remembers himself, shakes it off, and pulls up next to him at the bar.
On top of much experience there are all types.
"Hello there. I'm Telos. I see there are a lot of... characters in here today." He smiles at the Nagaji.
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Pull up a stool, friend. Lots of big and scary personalities in here. We rookies should stick together.Telos turns to see who addressed him and has a bit of trouble hiding shock on his face when he sees a snake man. He remembers himself, shakes it off, and pulls up next to him at the bar.
On top of much experience there are all types.
"Hello there. I'm Telos. I see there are a lot of... characters in here today." He smiles at the Nagaji.
You said it! I, for one, am looking forward to a bit of an easy intro with so many experienced Pathfinders about. We really have nothing to worry about.
Jeskit has always been rather confident because of his large size growing up among humans, this time is no different.
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Another Tengu in sun-bleached leathers is seen quickly eyeing each Pathfinder he meets. Then with a deep bow he makes observations and introductions.
"Oh, look at you! I am Taizen. Not even in exotic ports are the crowds so diverse. What fortune the Pathfinders have brought our company!" he says without pausing to breathe and moving to the next person.
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Seren audibly gasps, and she can't decide between looking offended or surprised. "What! Don't hurt'em! They're annoyin', not bad! I just want ya to help'em find their way to the boneyard, yeah? Like give'em directions or something? Second star on the right?" She'd heard that somewhere before... she gives a sidelong, suspicious glance to the air on her left.
"I don't think I'm suppose to just kill'em... or rekill'em."
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With an exasperated sigh, "Oh by Her Blade! Parties are supposed to be fun." The red and white armored half elf reaches out and taps the nearest Pathfinder, "Excuse me, have any of you seen a fancy dressed pirate, or a half orc with very bad jokes about boats? They are on my team, but I seem to have lost them in the crowd."
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A lithe elf glides into the room, her feet not quite touching the floor. Standing 5'8" tall this fair elven lady wears dark blue robes with stars embroidered on it and she carries a staff etched in eldritch runes. Her golden blonde hair is kept up by a silver needle and despite her beauty she carries a stern look on her face. She moves through the crowd and takes a seat near Duhwoo..
"A glass of elven red please.."
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Web-covered, Apollyanna storms into the Venture-Captain's house to slap Sheila Heidmarch across her face with her gloves.
"An innocent man died out there, in your pretend bandit raid. How was that pretend?! We're bandits! We attacked and stole from people most of whom where only there doing their jobs. We should be ashamed!" Apollyanna breaks down a bit. "We're no better than the people we claim as our enemies. The cult of Norgorber's got nothing on us. You're a big jerk, Sheila Heidmarch! And now we're just a guild of thieves. Anything we stole from the caravan should go toward making our victims whole."
The young paladin storms out in tears....
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With a swirl of light a group of pathfinders materialises on the manicured lawns outside of the lodge. One of them is carrying an enormous check which clinks.
I could happily burn this place to the ground just to teach that bloody woman a lesson...
Dropping off the chest in the hall Antonius looks at the Paladin storming out and sighs. I see you are making friends and influencing people again Sheila.
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Seren comes bumbling back in with several conspicuous bags dragging on the floor behind her. They clatter about and a few pieces of armor or weapons poke out of them. "Hey guys, I dunno what all the boss lady wanted. But I found all this -great- -stuff!- Some guys just sort of left it laying around while they napped. So I borrowed it. Even found me a new shirt!" She proudly displays the shirt she's currently wearing to the gathered pathfinders, ducking out of the way of the passing Paladin.
"They had some snacks, too. And a cat... my friend may have hit the cat a bit too hard, though." She seems a bit disappointed by this.
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"Such a sad state when someone can't crash an Aspis party without so much as a thank you for coming." Aelwynd replies, holding a drink in each hand. Our Aspis were not the most hospitable of hosts, but they did give us some nice party gifts at the end, so I forgive them."
Despite his obvious inebriation, he nimbly moves among the other pathfinders looking for someone...
"Has anyone seen where Sheila scampered off to? That little nymph has been avoiding me ever since that time with the..." and his voice trails off as he moves on through the group.
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after placing the chest in the hallway, Duhwoo chimes in with disappointment:
"Ah din't even git a single swing o' my sword in..."
then he brightens a bit:
"...welp, at least we done punched them Aspis in the soft parts some! I likes takin' their stuff! Better us slightly bad Pathfinders have it then them really bad Consortium scum."