Phantom Limbs: Ikarida, the City of Leaves (Inactive)

Game Master TheLogicOfCrocodiles

"Well. S*~%." Roland looked around, not quite grasping exactly what just happened. Oh he knew literally WHAT happened, he just couldn't understand what had pushed Naneko towards that action. He looked at her only to realize by the weapon on the ground and the helmet tossed aside that even she may not be entirely sure what had just transpired.

With Amy no where to be seen, Roland just looked at Dorrigan, "So what now?"

Roland, the crowd has scattered. festival bunting is trampled into the ground, and in the new post-murder silence, you become aware of dragonflies darting back and forth in the air above the monk's dwellings, behind their now-broken line of resistance.

Dorrigan stands frozen for a few seconds, his men equally shocked. You shared breakfast with some of them merely an hour past, spoke to them about your plans in the city, were treated by their medics, and now...

It is decisively, slowly, that Dorrigan turns squarely to face Naneko, and reaches up to the mask that rested on his brow, pushing it down into position on his face. His pleasant features now hidden once again he seems as he was when you first met him - aloof, imposing, unfriendly. Except now he has true reason to be.

He fires before you can react, but Naneko at least was expecting it - she did not flinch as he raised the pistol from his side or pull the trigger, and when the musket-ball enters and exits her throat she does little more than stagger back, dropping to one knee.

And then Dorrigan raises his other arm, still wordless, and opens his clenched fist.

You all feel it - the kick of arcana released as whatever eldritch charge that gauntlet holds is utilized.

You have time to react now, if you'd like... but some things have gone too far to be affected, and the rest of the guards have their guns and crossbows trained on your party.

Oh, Naneko...

Bleeding out rather fast, Naneko summoned what little strength she had to do one last thing.

Father would prefer it ended this way...

She drew her Butcher Blade, held it before her, now on both knees. Slowly, she pointed the blade towards her, hesitating only a split second before plunging it into herself.

"Nnnh!"

No decapitation needed. No ritual. The shot through the throat was enough to satisfy the need in her last waning thoughts. A left to right slicing motion, and Naneko fell forward atop her blade.

It seemed this time, there was no saving her.

Father...Mother...I'm sorry...it will be dark for a time...but that's okay...I'll be brave...I promise...

As a final action, her hand fixed her glasses, her voice a mere croak as she started choking on what was presumably blood. "The fault is...mine alone...spare my friends, Dorrigan...I plead no more than that...farewell..."

Her mind raced as her vision faded.

So quiet...so...beautiful...if this is...peace...I'll take nothing more...

Her body then stopped moving entirely, the blood puddles expanding liberally, at a moderate pace. Her suicide a more fitting end in her mind. She was sure Father would approve.

I'm sorry if this is a bit more than what you expected, Gatsby, but it's what she'd do. I'll stay in-character regardless the situation.

A fitting send off, Clocktower.

Dorrigan hesitates and in that moment Naneko chooses to leave her own way... and he closes his gauntlet, arcane potential subsiding, whatever spell it holds remaining uncast.

Now, Roland, he turns to you. Any hint of friendliness his voice might have held is gone. His mask is cruel and impassive.

'Get out of my city.'

His men ready their weapons to fire, awaiting only the order.

Amy sighed heavily. Geez, what kind of maniacs had she found herself with? Just when she'd finally had a decent night's sleep, too... as she continued to move away from the group, invisible, she reached into her bag by feel and swapped masks to put on the second one she'd picked up before, discreetly dropping the other face-down in an alleyway as she passed. Her Vanish wasn't exactly a powerful spell, and it dropped a few moments later - just in time for her to casually stroll out of the alleyway and act like she'd always been there.

Bluff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

She was, however, discreetly walking towards the outskirts of the city, intending to look for the others once they got there.

Sense Motive of average citizen: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Sense Motive of fleeing citizen: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Sense Motive of alert guard: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Amy, you manage to saunter past partygoers and guards alike without betraying either your potentially criminal status or current destination, trusting in the switched mask to protect your identity.

It works, for the most part - but a single individual sees you, a young man you recognise as one of those who fled the scene. His eyes sweep over you as you walk and then snap back to you in fear after taking in your clothing, and he ducks into a nearby house and slams the door.

Other than that, your journey is uneventful for the most part - news of the carnage is travelling fast, and the festival atmosphere seems to be dying in several places you pass.

Morgan could only guess what had happened, and heard the shots of guns being fired. Must be why everyone was fleeing. However, this girl who appeared in front of him, he knew not her name, but why was she so nonchalant in such a panicked time?

He slipped out of the alleyway after stuffing his equipment into his backpack. His attire was suitably dirtied already from prior travels, so it added to that homeless charm. Following after Amy, he put on his best facade, letting out a cough or two as he stumbled towards her, attempting to tug on her dress. He hoped he'd be able to get her to give him some information.

"Um...I have little monies...and you appeared out of thin air! So that means you must have magic of some kind! You must be a powerful wizard! Well, um, with all the chaos going around, no one's noticed me yet...so, can you lend me some copper pieces? So I can eat today?"

When (and if) Amy finally did notice and hear him, she'd see whom appeared to be a young teenager (preteen possibly by height), albeit one that looked very gender neutral. His voice could swing either way as well, and if she wasn't paying too strict attention, she might miss the lack of some feminine traits that were the giveaway. He was curiously looking her over, and potentially could pass for an actual orphan if she wasn't discerning enough.

Bluff (to convince Amy he's poor): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

Perception (to discern if Amy may have any goods and/or valuables on hand): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

Disguise (to pass as a girl): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23

[dice=Knowledge (Local) (to discern if Amy is a local resident he may have seen or if she's an "auslander")]1d20 + 6[/dice]

Perform (Act) (to pass as a poor street urchin): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

Amy looked the fellow up and down for a moment. Well, she hadn't seen someone THAT poor-looking in a long time... and she'd seen a lot of people who looked poor.

Perception (vs. Disguise): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Still, the obviously poor girl was pointing out the obvious - Amy was indeed a powerful sage, brimming with magical might and bending the fabric of the universe to her will through sheer natural talent. And that was the thing, really. They realized you could do magic and then they started asking you for everything, figuring that magic was the solution to all of their problems. In fairness, it kind of was... but when the mundane folk relied too much on magic, they stopped trying to do things by themselves, and that wasn't right at all. It was for their own good that sorcerers and wizards didn't take care of their every need. Well, that and the limited spells per-day. She only had so much arcane energy to burn through.

She was not, however, feeling particularly charitable. They might be in dire need of money for things outside of the city, and she'd rather solve problems at the root instead of treating the symptoms. The orphan girl would have to fend for herself - besides, from everything Amy had seen, it couldn't be THAT hard to get food in this town at festival time.

...

Oh. Right. The tendency of little orphan kids to be thieves anyway - though any orphan who attacked a wizard was just plain stupid.

Amy shook her head, then pointed down the street towards one of the stalls. Festivals had to be a busy time, and kids could almost certainly find work helping busy stallkeepers. It might even pay off fairly well in the long run - and Amy calmly kept walking, though the talk from the orphan had reminded her of one thing.

Ready Action: Cast Pants (Anyone who bumps into her)

She was deliberately walking in a way that would help her avoid getting too close to others, and this would be a bad time to lose her wallet. It'd be a bit hard for a thief to run away if their pants were around their ankles, though - really, it was amazing how many uses you could get out of such a simple spell. She loved that.

Roland sighed at the expected response, but still felt it necessary to try and accomplish his original purpose in the city. "I don't suppose, since it's obvious that I had no control over her actions at all, and I did try to get her to follow my lead and not to anything stupid, that you'd allow me the opportunity to find out why we were brought here in the first place? If not, I'll need a few minutes to go and collect the rest of my group."

Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12

'If I find you within these walls past noonday, I will kill you.'

He speaks with absolutely no emotion, the aim of his pistol wavering not a jot. There's no threat, no anger that you can hear... merely the cold word of law.

That leaves you roughly an hour and a half. Best get packing!

Roland just shrugged and looked around. Noting that Amy seems to have disappeared, Roland assumed that she was keeping herself safe and walked away, heading in the general direction that Bora had led the merry-makers off into, every now and then calling out "STELLA BORA!"

Morgan was unfazed, and after a short pout, decided to tail Amy.

He said nothing further, but he followed, seeing where she was going. She seemed to buy his ruse, but he has no idea what her pointing at stalls meant. By his story, he already tried them.

Nonetheless, he followed, his scarf covering his mouth, hiding a smile.

Bora, the people carousing in your wake are, after a few minutes, more than happy to drink themselves into a stupor without you, and you find yourself able to slip back away from the group of revelers if you wish.

Amy quietly continued walking, looking around the city as she did so. This place definitely wasn't like home, and that made it kind of a pain to deal with... though a small part of her was semi-seriously considering ways of taking it over so she could bend it to her will. They'd probably be better off in the long run, but for now, she did want to meet up with the others, and was heading towards where she expected they'd be going.