The Forgotten God (Table 4) (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

After about ten minutes of time, Hexy collapses in a fit of exhaustion.

"Ah, ****." she explains, again.

She tears up a little. "I... tried... to... tell... you." she huffs between tears of shame. She breaks down sobbing.

"Indeed you did." the Countess said, taking a seat on a chair that someone - one of many monsters that had come with her, it seemed - had brought out for her. "That swearing was very impressive, by the way. Most people don't dare to utter even the slightest bit of foul language in my presence." She tilted her head in consideration. "So, we have a woman with a strange story, and whose ability to be summoned serves as reasonable evidence of her tale. In addition, I have testimony from Druli, an old friend and excellent judge of character, and Della, one of my own ambassadors, both of which spoke in your favor."

"Furthermore, I have heard testimony about the positive effect you had on one Vincent, a merchant's son who is now determined to press forward with integration - a cause we've been trying to advance for many years now. The problem is in your lack of self-control and inability to judge situations correctly. We don't need more attention from the Azure or the Amber when we're trying to rebuild our society, and you seem to have difficulty moderating your actions and emotions. I wonder, what am I to do with someone who is trying to do good but could inadvertently bring trouble along behind them? Most would call punishment for someone doing good unjust, but I would be equally derelict in my responsibilities if I allowed a threat to my people to remain." As she lounges in the sunlight, she simply tilts her head a bit.

"What do you think, H'ecks-pha-czu'whaugh? How would you treat me, were our positions reversed?"

"I... am... Heksfazia... right... now..." she says, between sniffs, explaining the difference. Poorly.

"And... and I have no idea what Azure or Amber or Other is! People keep asking me what I expect them to do about things, but I don't know anything about! It's like... urg!" she goes to throw... something... but there's nothing to throw. She'd broken it and tossed it aside.

She sighs and uses create water on herself in order to clean her face and body from her own emotional breakdown, running hands across her face, through her hair, and down herself to brush off the weird emotional excretions that this mortal form has a tendency toward.

She carefully and calmly cleans her face and hair, restoring herself to her barest semblance of 'presentable' in her state of dishabille.

She twists and squeezes her hair dry (well, drier), and rubs the excess water off the rest of her as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

"There. More presentable. I suppose." she says. "This work well enough for the Proper around here?" she manages, a little petulantly.

With a sigh, she continues.

"Frankly, I don't know how I would treat me in your position. I know next to nothing about this world or anything in it. I do know how I want you to treat me - in multiple regards."

She glances to the side, gathering herself, before turning back.

"You want to know me? Want to know what to do with me? My recommendation is to get to know me - that's what I want. I want you to teach me, I want you to know me, and I want to spend time with you - intimate, incredible, passionate time. Together. I want to talk with someone who understands what it's like to have lived long enough to watch others that you cared for pass away. I want to talk with someone who knows what it's like to suppress your inner beast until it's no longer able to control your actions. I want you to bite me and taste my blood - and I yours - in a kind and intimate fashion. And I want to spend time with you."

She looks down.

"My other recommendation is to drop me like a bowl of holy water. Send me away as fast as possible. It's been made very clear to me in the course of three days that no one actually wants me here, and no one enjoys my presence, with the minor exception of drunken and easily manipulated young men. I was sent here to find enlightenment. I don't even know what that means."

She looks around for a few moments, then back at the Countess.

"Since I woke up, I've had three moments of freedom - three moments where I could do anything I wanted. The first was stepping foot in Elysium. I was free there. It was beautiful. Perfect. The second was when I arrived here. I had no where in particular to go, but chose to come to your realm - I had no other leads, and it sounded like I might find someone who, however much it's possible, could, perhaps, a little, understand me. The third was when I finished convincing Vincent, and I could have done anything - instead, I chose to test my limit on alcohol while trying to keep him out of trouble."

She intakes a long breath, and then slowly exhales. "In two of those three cases, I've chosen to help others. It's been a painful experience, regardless of that choice. Each time the ****-****-**** hand of-... *ahem*, the 'forces beyond my control' have stepped in and made demands of me. Who knows? Perhaps I've earned it. It's possible. I was certainly in the Abyss for a very, very long time, and proud lord of the qlippoth kind while there."

Hexy glances at the other monsters there, but then ignores them.

"But ever since that ****-**** **** ****ing **** **** **** oinodaemon first arrived-" she says, zoning into a different place and a different time "-I should have consumed that ****er immediately - my life has been slowly decaying. The one bright shining moment, my one act of benevolence, actually transitioning to demonkind for the sake of my children cost me everything. I'm being told that only be doing things selflessly can I change my fate. So far, it's done a ****-load of 'good'."

She blinks a few moments and shakes her head, snapping back from being H'ecks-pha-czu'whaugh.

"And yet, I keep trying. Perhaps it's because I like self-torture. I don't know. I kind of went to excessive lengths to end my own self-torture, so, that doesn't seem valid. Perhaps it's because I'm innately perverse. It's possible. The origin of all demon kind, you know. Abyssal. Every time I try to do good, more ill comes from it. Who knows?"

She draws herself up, though still in her sitting position. "I ramble. I'm an anarchic mess. I'm currently far, far too weak. I'm fractured and missing most of myself. I've died once, recently, and returned. Painfully. Obviously, I'm outclassed here. Do what you will. It's not like I can stop you." she says.

"Most people wouldn't refer to transitioning to another type of evil as an act of benevolence." the Countess observed with all the patience of the undead. "Still, do you honestly believe there is anywhere in the world that will accept you without expecting something in return? Companionship is about sacrifice, and the only real problem I have with you is your inability to control yourself." she explained. "Since you are ignorant, however, I shall elaborate for you. The Azure and the Amber are factions of... well, just think of them as a kind of Outsider for now. They gain strength from the positive or negative emotions of others, but have no care at all for the source of that feeling - a madman taking delight as he dismembers a victim is just as pleasing to the Azure as the thoughts of a man who loyally follows the rules of his society and works to help those around him. The light of Dees holds them back as surely as it does the gods, and only a trickle of their power can influence our world at any time, but that's more than enough for them to try and affect us in their ongoing war for dominance. The actions of one person are rarely enough to get their attention, especially when they're not actively being worshiped... unless that person has a powerful fate. If you feel joy or sorrow too strongly - outside of insulating places like that circle - then you could give them enough power to start affecting you... and I refuse to allow alien gods the opportunity to take away the only chance my people have had for lives of safety and peace."

"Still, at least you have been trying to do good. If you truly wish to do good, though, the best thing you can do is learn to control yourself. That being the case, I do have a job for you... one that I believe will help you practice control of yourself and, more importantly, get out of that binding. I'll even throw in a cash reward."

She shrugs. "It was the first time I cared for anyone other than myself enough to sacrifice what I'd wanted, what I'd worked for for all of my existence. Whatever you call that, then."

She looks, hard. "So basically, through no fault of my own, I have arrived in a world where I am dangerous just by being alive. Good to know." she nods, bitterly.

She breathes, and then lets the whole thing drop. "But sure. I'll take a job. Why not? I have no power over my fate right now, so I might as well get rewarded for it." she says.

"What do I do, to whom, and for what purpose? Enslaving or oppression is off the table. I've been given to the awareness that such things are frowned upon by Elysium and Marmael. I will not hurt them."

"Oh, I'm afraid you're going to need to do something much worse. You will become... a tax collector." Most of her companions look distinctly amused by this, and after a moment, the Countess briefly explains what taxes are before continuing with her notes on the job. "A hamlet of humans on my lands is long overdue with their payments, and my previous collector hasn't returned. I want you to go to this city, collect the payments, find out what happened to my previous collector, and bring the money back. And my collector, if they're still alive."

Hexy squints, carefully looking at the Countess and those around her.

"I... don't... get it." she admits, at last, softly, more to herself than anyone else.

There was a joke. She knows there was a joke.

The Countess explained that there were overdue taxes, and what those were - that was obvious enough.

But... a joke was had... at her expense?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

"If it's not enslaving or oppression - I don't think legal requirement for compensation due to authoritative services rendered counts, from what I can tell - that's... probably fine." she nods, slowly.

"I give my consent only so long as I am convinced that such action will not further indebt me to any forces of Hell, the Abyss, Abaddon, Death, or any cause, locale, or essence that Marmael or Elysium would not approve of. I may lack a moral compass, but I shall borrow theirs in this. If you don't like it, than you can kiss my *** or let me starve to death waiting. While I'd prefer the former, I can wait. I've died before - twice, now, and counting. Hurt like **** each time. I'm prepared to suffer again, if that's what's needed."

She didn't think it would be needed. She thought the joke was some mild, probably innocuous interpretation of local elements. But **** these guys (although, sadly, not literally) if they wanted her to guarantee something sight-unseen.

"Also, I think, based off of everyone's prudish responses around here so far, means I'll need a new shirt unless you're willing to let me take my time fixing my other one, or you're willing to give me one yourself." she adds.

"I would be very upset if internal forces attempted to manipulate the actions of my nation." the Countess said softly - and despite your difficulties reading social situations, you realize that she's making both a promise and a threat. "The taxes are owed, in part, for the protection from aggressors that they receive - I doubt that any Celestials would disapprove of resisting demonic forces, especially if the people knew the taxes would be owed and willingly moved to live there anyway. As for the shirt... only once you've unambiguously agreed to perform the task. Any questions you have can, of course, be addressed first." They knew better than to throw anything that would break the circle and allow someone within it more of an opportunity to escape.

"I've given my best-faith answer, Countess. I won't unambiguously promise anything - even to a god, I hedge, and I do so with reason. I will state that I'll give it my best-faith effort, to the best of my understanding, that I'll attempt this task for you, presupposing that, in the course of the attempt, it doesn't go against the moral code of those I hold important."

She looks downward, thinking, then back up.

"To say more would be to beholden myself to something that I cannot give. There are simply too many social factors that I, frankly, don't understand. A simple 'someone doesn't like it' won't suffice to limit or otherwise negate a good faith effort, for example. There are lots of 'someone doesn't like it' out there, for all causes at all times. Further, at present, with only one side of the story, it certainly sounds reasonable and moral. To the extent that it proves to be so (so much as I can possibly understand such concepts), then I agree."

She breathes. "I've done little to inspire faith, but I completed the task, as requested by your ambassador, to the best of my understanding with the best knowledge that I had in order to receive a dubious reward. Now, granted, I understand that the letter granted access to you. I had no such understanding at the time. Base for yourself if, by that metric, I am trustworthy."

She closes her eyes. "I have betrayed many in my time. But all of it was premeditated, and none of it was in good-faith efforts towards appropriately moral action." She opens her eyes. "Now, I have a goal - making them pleased with me (and seducing them). This goal is what drives me, at present, in my moral actions. I will, someday, return to Elysium. It will be my home. But by binding myself irrevocably to something - anything - I surrender freedom and the ability to, as an independent entity, make moral judgments based on their code. This would lead me to blind obedience of a higher power, which could very well turn me into a tool of evil. I, myself, having used this to corrupt and destroy many lives, will not submit myself to such a system beyond, as previously noted, a good-faith effort. I am not here to dismantle your system, cause trouble, or harm anyone, Countess. I do not, in any regard, intend to do so."

A wicked smile crosses her face. "That said, a guaranteed several night's romp with you - promised with equal good-faith metric that I myself am giving - and I'll waive my harder stance."

She nods, respectfully. "I'll understand if you decline, as, given your own words, I'm 'not your type'."

She breathes and steadily looks into the Countess' eye. "You say that you doubt celestials would disapprove of resisting demonic forces. That means there is a lack of perfect surety. In the same manner with which you cannot give perfect surety, how can I? I am certainly willing to cede any promise of reward, if I fail to complete the task as-owed. **** it. I wouldn't want to get rewarded for that anyway." She looks to the side. "Hm, actually, no, on reconsidering it, I'd want to get rewarded for doing the right thing, if, in the end, after investigating the situation, rejecting your offer is the right thing." she looks back at the Countess, "But really what I want is irrelevant. What is relevant is what would please them. And what would please them is the moral thing. Hence, the best promise I can give: you give me a good-faith promise that you don't believe - to the best of your knowledge and understanding - that collecting these 'taxes' as you call them would be against the moral code of the plane of Elysium and the celestial Marmael (who is all about freedom from evil), and I will give my good-faith promise that - to the best of my knowledge and understanding - I will do my best to enact this, presupposing it is, in fact, a good (or at least non-evil) action."

She looks around, carefully, at everyone. "To do otherwise would be to risk compounding the sin of my very presence - something I can't help - with a sin of action by guaranteeing from ignorance - something I can help. Can any of you call that moral? I would think not."

She smiles, hesitantly, slightly sadly, but honestly. "That's really the best I can offer, Countess: to guarantee that I will do what I understand to be best for all involved, morally. I am not a moral creature, but I know who and what is, and I will pleasure them, one way or the other."

She shrugs. This would either suffice, or she would stay here. It mattered not in the end. Marmael would be pleased. That is all that mattered.

"Release her." the Countess says, looking highly amused - and after a moment, you feel the magics binding you fading away. "You may be surprised to hear that my ideals are actually quite close to those of Elysium." she said. "And I can assure you that they will be happier with you if you help me than if you do not. It would be very foolish of me to anger the rulers of the land where so many of the souls of my people end up."

Hexy breathes, relieved.

She nods, slowly. "In truth, I barely understand the cycle of souls beyond those that end up in my own home realm. And, considering the method of my introduction, I must submit, I'm a bit fuzzy on that as well. In many ways, my ignorance is... impressive. And I've forgotten so much... But I hear what you are saying: the immortal residence of many of your subjects after death (barring the acquisition of immortality through undeath, such as yourself) must needs be propitiated in the matters of morality for the purpose of equity and general filial relations."

She shrugs, "Or something like that, **** me, if I know."

She blinks, and smiles, "On second thought... ah, well, I suppose that wouldn't be the Proper to say." she grins.

"In general, Countess, about the only thing that would surprise me is if you somehow turned out to be actively promoting abyssal tendencies. I strongly suspect the masked entity would not have sent me here in that case." she shrugs, "but then again, I'm quite frail, mortal, and forgetful now, so, I could easily be wrong."

She looks steadily at her. "And... thank you." she says, bowing, before returning to gaze steadily at her again.

"You live up to your reputation more with each passing moment. It seems well-earned, and is thus to be respected."

Hexy grins, wickedly. "And... attractive."

"The next time I throw you to the ground, you won't enjoy it." Countess Romalda stated - as if it were a simple fact of the universe, beyond question or debate. The sun continued to shine brightly upon the vampire noble, and another faint smile crossed her face. "However, I suppose I should give you one more piece of advice before you go... the gods of Elysium aren't chaotic the way of the residents of the Maelstrom or the Abyss are. They have issues with authorities outside of themselves... but when it comes to their own commitments and decisions, they're passionate enough to put a Paladin to shame. You may have trouble wooing an angel if you keep throwing yourself at others. Relationships exist because of sacrifice - starting with sacrificing your opportunity to be with others." She calmly stands, and the monsters that came with her form up behind her as she begins walking away.

"I may get hurt, but that doesn't mean I won't enjoy it. Still, I'll take your meaning."

She shrugs. "Everyone keeps telling me that I must sacrifice things. That's fine. In fact, I have, far more than most can understand. I have even changed my definition of what valid sacrifices are, and even still what has been done is often ignored. I suppose none of you even recognize the sacrifice that's already been made."

She nods, working it out as much to herself as to the others. Learning. Understanding this alien mindset from a perspective other than manipulation.

"That makes sense, I suppose. From your perspective it's a common, ordinary, normal thing. From mine, and where I came from, I made the worst decision of many eons. I could have survived, thrived, and enjoyed every moment of it. I chose not to do so, and I chose this for the sake of another. I sacrificed every desire I'd held for millennia in order to hold out for better for entities other than myself in a manner that directly went against my own self-interest. This is, after all, the very definition of 'self-sacrifice' that seems to be so lauded."

She looks up. "That it is not enough for you or them or anyone else, is obvious. I continue to sacrifice much - many things, substantially beyond what you know or can guess. I was incorrect in that at least - I thought you, being what you are, might understand."

She shrugs. "Or maybe it is I who do not yet understand. Maybe in my newly minted mortality I have not yet achieved the wisdom to be as you. Who knows? (Though certainly some think they do.)"

She cocks her head to the side. "As I said, though, Countess, I am not a moral entity. And... if she does not choose to be wooed, that is certainly her own choice, as yours is. That does not mean that I shan't try or shan't desire it - I have been plain in my desires, statements, and nature: as honest as I can be, given the circumstances. That, in itself, is a significant sacrifice for who and what I am. Beyond that, I do believe I've been quite steady on what - or who - I'm willing to do - or not, as the case may be."

Standing more straight, head held high, "As I said: I respect you. You have earned it by your nature and your words. I don't understand you, and you seem not to understand me... or I don't understand how you do, considering your alien perspective. But that does not lend itself to disrespect."

"While your rejection stings in disappointment, it's understandable, much like your Ambassador's distaste. It's part of who you are - and I accept that about you, and appreciate it for being a unique and beautiful part of each of you, much as you do not accept what I am, but instead call for further change. And make no mistake: change will happen, one way or the other. Change always happens, even in death. Any insistence on it happening early in order to comport oneself in a manner more fitting to your own desires is imitation of one of my own flaws: impatience."

She smiles. "I learned of that flaw from speaking with Druli. A most curious and delightful creature."

Looking back at Countess Romdala, she says, "So, I believe a prude-shield-aka-shirt, details on the town (including directions, quantities, and so on based on population, demographics, and time), and, if successful, the cash reward."

Hexy looks down, musing quietly. "Though one is compelled to wonder: if it's money that's required to fight the demons, why is money granted to one who... seeks to collect that money? I must confess, I'll take it, regardless, but it seems... backwards. Society, in general, seems quite insane. Always demanding one follow inane rules for the purpose of being all alike - even if those rules don't make sense. Hm... a bit like a mortal form, I suppose. All the nervous system controlled by an inefficient central casing, and all the breathing done through three relatively diminutive holes, one of which is optionally opened or closed by said inefficient central nervous system casing, and the others of which are closed without input by emotional displays, despite those emotional displays originating from hormonal discharges in the same central casing."

She shakes her head. "Sexy, but weird."

She looks again at the Countess.

"Anyway, so, details...?"

One of the other monsters with the countess delivers the shirt and a sealed envelope, then bows slightly before scampering off. There are many things the Countess does personally - and some she does not.

With the letter is a map detailing the route to the town in question.

Hexy bows.

"Thank you, Countess Romalda." she says, "And thank you as well, deliverer of the male." she says to the fleeing courier.

She rads over the letter. "It seem straightforward enough so far. Thank you again. Is ther, per chance, any library that I might peruse, or other sources of information on the citizens, and specific entities involved? Ever since my weakening, I have been substantially less able to prepare than I am wont. If not, that is fine: I will make do." she nods.

The monsters are already gone - but in a city this size, there is almost certainly a repository of knowledge somewhere that you could check, and it wouldn't be very difficult to get directions from people walking along the street... once you find them, anyway. The place seems deserted at the moment, perhaps because of fear of the procession of creatures you were just interacting with.

Ah. I hadn't realized that we were already outside. I was under the impression that the Countess had summoned me to her castle or something. If it is merely the city's resources, it is unlikely to have things important to her beyond basic understanding of society. She might hit it up, but it's less important. Also, is the shirt my armored shirt from before (or it's equivalent), or simply a regular shirt? Do I have the gear I dropped in the tavern back? If not, what do I have?

Hexy blinks and looks around. A long, slow breath is drawn, and then carefully released, looking around.

If she does not have armor, she would purchase a new hide shirt for 20 gold total. If she does, she would not bother and instead follow the directions to the town. Is the town more than a day's travel? If the travel is more than a day, she may purchase some rations (depending on other funds expended), and maybe even a mount... again, depending on expenses.

After making all her preparations, she would set forth on her journey.

You're in the streets outside the tavern. XD

The town in question is about ten days away on foot through well-guarded roads, just outside of the forests that make up the bulk of the Countess' lands. Armored with a new hide shirt - bought at the store - and the items you were able to retrieve from the tavern once the others left, you are able to set forth on your journey towards the town in question.

After some dreadfully dull days, quite probably the most bored you've been since waking up in Axis, a faint sound can be heard from the tall grass growing on the left of the road. "“Aaaaaaplesaaaauce! Here boy! C’meer boy!” There's a faint rustling sound a moment later, and a small creature abruptly flies out!

Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Initiative (You): 1d20 ⇒ 3

Reacting considerably faster than you, the creature buzzes forward, and...

Attack Roll (vs Touch): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

...successfully plops onto the front of your torso without doing you any harm or actually impeding your movements at all. It looks surprisingly satisfied... for whatever kind of bug it is, anyway. It's mostly body language, not expression.

Hexy smiles at the cute little thing.

"Why hello, there, Applesauce." she guesses. "You're adorable!" she places a protective, cautious hand to either ward off punishment or offer to touch the creature - whichever it would prefer.

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Hexy - Fae, she corrects herself - looks about to see whoever was calling for the thing.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

"Gree~tings!" she calls, lyrically, very glad to, at long last, shed the boredom of solitude. Strange how much a craving for others had increased in her time of death. Once she could have been fine for eons without company. It seems she was impatient. "I think I found your adorable little friend~!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 10 + 2 = 18
Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

Knowledge (dungeoneering/history/religion?): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

You hear yelping as you take note of the creature - recognizable as a stirge, a sort of tiny magical beast, despite your lack of training in the field - and a young boy with a ragged mop of black hair, filthy home-spun clothes, and mud caking his hands and feet tumbles onto the road. "No! Don’t hurt him! He’s just a-scairt!" the kid says frantically - at least until he sees the stirge peacefully relaxing on you. Nevertheless, the creature looks up at his voice, then detaches from you and floats over to sit on his shoulder. The boy looks relieved... but also rather wary.

Hexy looks amused.

"Why would I ever hurt him, little one?"

She smiles and leans down.

"Some call me Fae. And what of yourself?"

"Jes' gotta put Applesauce back'in his cage..." the boy mutters, avoiding your gaze and stepping back a little as he strokes the small stirge. "Uh... If you need sumthin' in the village, you should talk to my pa... he knows everything." he adds a moment later.

Fae looks at him, curiously. She bends low, sweetly, and non-threatening.

"I'm sorry." she says. "I seem to have worried you some. What's your name? Who's your Pa?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 2 = 22

"Pa is my Pa..." the boy mutters, continuing to back away before turning and running a little towards the town. However, he stops after a little ways and waits for you to catch up, never getting too close but still staying in sight.

He leads you onward until you hear the sound of water flowing in the distance, and you soon come to a river. (Location B on the map now available at the top of the page.)

Two ramshackle shacks flank the Lampblack River here, sheds to house a flat-bottom ferry. Tightly drawn ropes cross the river, part of a cranked pulley system that draws the barge across the black water. An older man with a crooked back and thin hair is sitting in the boat, a sour expression on his face as he sees both you and the child. "Stranger, are you?" he grunts. "Best watch out for the wolf in the water. Loves eating the guts of children." he narrows his eyes, then indicates an odd-looking skull nailed to the side of a shack. "If you want across, it's a silver coin."

The boy simply plops into the ferry without listening, not looking up at you once he's inside.

She smiles.

"Everywhere I go, sir. Everywhere I go." she says softly.

She pulls out two coins.

"You the boy's Pa, or just a friendly stranger?" she asks.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 2 = 28 or +10

"Skender Cardzi. Ferryman." he grunts, carefully examining the coin before cranking both you and the child across the river and to the town. "If you're comin' back this way, the ferry'll be here." He nods slightly - which seems to be the only courtesy you're likely to get.

The boy scampers towards the village, taking the left turn and moving towards what looks like an open common area - at least, even from here you can see that the buildings have been arranged around it. The road also proceeds straight ahead, towards a bridge - and across it, a number of farmhouses in various conditions. Still, it seems like most of the interesting areas are in the direction the boy went.

She gives a one-sided smile at the ferryman and kid. Friendly. she thinks.

"Hey, kid! You and Applesauce should slow up! I'm coming..." she adds.

The boy is quick on his feet and - as children are wont to do - doesn't take long to scurry home. Fortunately, it's not that far, and you have time to see him scamper inside a large farmhouse. (Location E on the map.)

By the time you arrive, a man is striding out of the building, with the young scamp following just behind him. The man is moderately handsome, dressed in serviceable clothes, and obviously works for a living - but it's immediately apparent that he's friendly enough, if a touch cautious once he sees your tools, and he smiles as you approach. "You must be the city girl who helped my lad." he said, putting a hand on the boy's face. "Welcome to Ravenmoor. I'm Viorec Korzha - just a farmer here. This is my boy, Ornigaard. Did you come for the Founder's Festival?"

Fae smiles, a little shyly, looking down.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

"Very nice to meet you, sir." she says. "You may call me Fae. "

She leans down, once again, bending toward Ornigaard. "It's very nice to meet you little one. And I'm quite pleased to be introduced to Applesauce as well. As I said before, you can call me Fae." she nods at him, smartly, and gives a wink, before standing.

"I was actually quite interested to hear about this 'Founder's Festival'. I know little about it or this area, being new around here, but it certainly sounded quite intriguing. So... master Kor-zha?" she says, hesitantly, testing the waters, "I'd love it, if you could... show me... all... about it." she says, somewhat coyly, but still 'shyly' - she liked him immediately, being a father who let his son keep a Stirge named Applesauce. She didn't want to ruin anything for him, but, if he happened to be a widower, or the mother was into... open... arrangements...

Still. Best to take things cautiously and slowly right now, one way or the other. No rushing into things. She would relearn patience the hard way.

Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 2 = 16

Viorec looks at you for a few moments, then notes, "I've had five children by my wife, and aim to have at least as many more." After waiting for a moment to make sure that point is clear, he begins elaborating on the other issue. "The Founder's Festival is later this afternoon - followed by the Founder's Feast this evening. We celebrate them each month as a way of keeping our community together, and since you helped my boy, you're more than welcome to come as long as you... behave yourself. There are quite a few events you might enjoy."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

EDIT: Hey! She propositioned nothing! She is being very careful to make no moves whatsoever! He totally made that up! ;p

*mutter-mutter*justbecauseshefindshimattractive...*mutter-mutter*...typical treatafemaledifferent...*mutter-mutter*

EDITs:

Fae reddens. Anger? Embarrassment? Attraction? Some or none of the above?

"S-sir!" she says, passionately, "I have no intention of stepping over socially important mores!"

She frowns, thinking.

"Hmp." she muses, brows drawn. "S-so. What kind of events are there." she asks, a bit flatly, still somewhat scandalized.

*Coughs loudly from behind the GM screen* You're not fooling anyone!

Viorec gives a loose outline of some of the many events that are available. One of them includes leaping over a bonfire - with people to help if you fall - while others include tasks like throwing starknives at bales of hay, betting on ravens that fight each other, and a three-legged race. There's also a contest to try and catch a greased pig, and it would take someone well-versed in grappling to succeed at that. "We're big on community events, you see. Things all the folk around here can participate in."

As he lists the events, Fae's eyes slowly widen, her expression carefully neutral-cum-pleasant*.

She reddens even further.

She doesn't say anything.

Not. A. Word.

"Leaping the bonfire." ("Others willing to help." too!)
"Starknives in the hay."
"Betting on Fighting Ravens."
"Three legged raced."
"Grappling the greased pig."
"Everyone can participate."

Traditionally conservative her weird, newly-humanoid foot.

"I... see." she says, pleasant smile intentionally plastered. "And I can... see... why... a happily... married man... such as yourself... would be... hesitant... to show a woman these events." she adds, carefully neutral. "She is a very... fortunate woman." she explains, cautiously - she wants to offend no one! - "... and I'm sure she's quite excellent, too!"

She squeezes her eyes. Surely that sounds like a come-on somehow, too.

She opens her eyes and looks.

No? Nothing? Oh, good.

She swallows, thickly. How the **** is she supposed to handle this diplomatically. What wouldn't set these people off?

Not a word.

Not. A. Word.

Notawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnotawordnot aword.

"Well, then!" she says, at last, "It sounds... quite... pleasant! I do love me some Community events!" she says, honestly.

Well, she hoped it was honestly. It sounded as if she'd like the events.

Non-extant gods of the Dees system, how would she walk this... this... minefield of innuendo?

What did they mean?

Was this a really "active" place or not?

Arg! Traps within traps!

She'll just... go with the flow. Yes.

She takes a deep breath and releases it.

No emotion. Calm. Like a rock. Unfeeling. Calm.

Don't want blue or yellow to get her (whatever the **** they were).

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 9 + 2 = 23 or +10+2...
Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13 hide the flustered
EDIT: well, then... >.<

"So, casual change of topic: I'm going to need somewhere to stay. Tonight, I mean. I mean a place, not a person. Oh, geez, look, no, what I'm trying to say is that I don't have anyon- where, anywhere to sleep, and I need a location that may or may not (based on local custom) have anyone else in it to stay so I can sleep, as in the unconscious thing where your eyes are closed and you're not moving, instead of the other thing."

She continues to redden. H'ecks-pha-czu'whaugh was calling.

"Okay, look, I really don't want to cause any sort of trouble or problem or anything. I think you're a fine-looking man, and the fact that you're an obviously great father is really... well it's a really great and... um... good thing worthy of being appreciated, you see, but I'm not asking for, requesting, or propositioning anything. Like, at all. I'm just... oh, geez, what can I say that doesn't sound like that. I've... I've no idea."

She thinks for a minute. "Uh, look, is there an inn, or something? Or a public bench? A hammock? A small, out of the way floor of some non-suggestive building? A cozy paddock or hill or nest? Indoors or out? Anything like that?"

By now, Fae was thoroughly red.

* 47 seconds in, where it says 01:49 on the timer; right up to 1:00 displaying 1:30 on the right.. That face. (The right counts down. The bar counts up, but doesn't display unless your mouse is hovered over it.)

"Daddy, she's weird!" the young boy says in a very audible whisper, and Viorec simply whacks him upside the head a bit.

"There ain’t no inn in town, but there’s a-plenty of land out there to pitch camp in." he says, nodding. "If'n you'd rather stay inside, though, you might wanna talk to the mayor. His manor's the largest building in town, and most of the few guests we get go there for the night." Though he remains friendly, he doesn't quite seem willing to let a strange woman sleep in his own house... but hey, at least he's offering alternatives, right?

"Yes. Thank you." she says, grateful for the reprieve, breathing once in a long, slow exhalation.

She bows, once, quickly.

Fae leans down again, looking at Ornigaard once again.

"Want to know a secret?" she says in an exaggerated whisper, loud enough for his father to hear. "You're right: I'm weird." she smiles and winks. In a more normal voice, "I still think Applesauce is great though - and that's not because I'm weird, but because it's true! And you're a lucky little boy to have a great father."

Fae winks at him, again, before standing.

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

"T-thank you again, sir, for all your... help and... and information." she manages.

Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19 Come on not-awkward! Not-awkward!
EDIT: Diplomacy! that Always works!
Bluff: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17 or +10+2
EDIT 2: Dang it! Charisma to at least be likable-weird?
Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Tip: You can roll less often and focus on normal roleplaying. XD Rolling can help set the tone of a conversation, there's no need to make them every few lines.

Viorec simply nods courteously and ushers his boy back inside, leaving you free to explore the village. It seems like it will be a few hours before events begin, but now that you have the chance to look around, you can already see citizens starting to set things up for the later festivities. You still need to investigate the missing money and missing tax collector, but there's also the issue of lodging...

Fae, fully embarrassed - Even when I didn't do anything! Stupid freakishly sexy bodies... - backs off, turns, and walks down the steps of the porch.

She sighs, looks around, and heads towards the largest building she can see.

Along the way, she stops to make casual acquaintances, friends, and the like - to get seen and liked in town (as well as get more firm directions to the mayor's place).

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 2 = 31 or +10+2
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

EDIT: Pffff~t! The ditzy desirable dynamo strikes again!

You aren't observing much as you walk around - perhaps distracted by the earlier conversation - but you do eventually manage to talk people into giving you directions. It's not hard to get them, either - the mayor's house is the largest in the area (Location J on the map) and you're easily able to amble in that direction.

As you approach, a surly-looking young man abandons the gardening work he's been doing and proceeds to the gate, gripping his sickle tightly. "Visitor, huh? My brother doesn't have the free time to deal with you." he says bluntly. "Why don't you just move on and head somewhere else?" He fingers the shaft of his scythe, not looking away from your face as he speaks.

Fae blinks.

"Um? I'm sorry, I was told that I should come here. I'm looking for a room - a place to stay the night -, see, and, since I don't want to cause problems..." she explains, cautiously.

She holds out a hand, pleasantly, but cautiously.

"You may call me Fae." she says.

Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13 to hide sensing motive at the weird(?) greeting
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 9 + 2 = 19 +10+2
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
edit: Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14 for anything odd
edit: Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26 identify magic
edit: Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 general

She detects magic at the guy.

The man glares at you as you mutter, and lifts his sickle slightly, despite the fact that you can't detect any magical auras on him. However, the front door bursts open a moment later as a tall, imposing man steps out, and the man doing the gardening ducks his head.

"Ah, brother, warding off guests again?" the man gently chides. "Thank you for your concern, but I can handle this myself." he smiles at you, ignoring the sullen expression on his brother's face. "I was just heading down to the festival grounds to start the preparations. Would you like to come along? It's always good to have another pair of hands around, and times have been a bit tough lately, but people will perk right up if you help them with the festival." Before he's done talking, he's outside of the gate to the house and moving along the path towards the festival grounds. (Area H along the map.)

Fae blinks. How odd.

She nods, turns, and follow.

"Hello, sir. Call me Fae!" she says brightly, keeping pace with the man. "I'm looking for a place to stay, and was commended to you. So... uh... would you mind?" she asks sweetly. "I... kinda don't have anywhere else to go." she explains, while helping him with whatever task he points out.

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 19

This should be +9+2 or +10+2, for a total of 30 or 31. Sorry. The Great Golem Sale has apparently been wreaking havoc with the boards.

"Of course, of course! There's a bed at my place you can use." the Mayor says, looking quite cheerful. "It's something that comes with the job, really, since we don't have an inn. Most people just call me the mayor, but if you need a name, it's Andretti Kriegler. My family's been here for quite some time, and we've often found ourselves guiding the others." he seems quite cheerful as you cross over the bridge and move closer to the fairgrounds. Several of the people working on setting things up greet the mayor as soon as they see him, and he responds with a pleasant wave. With that, he starts helping to carry some of the wooden logs that will be used for the bonfire later. "So, what brings you to our little town, Fae?"

"A little boy, Mayor Kriegler." Fae says, jovially. "I caught his wondering pet, returned it to him, and he led me here." she smiles, lifting logs herself, and helps out as she can.

"Of course, the rumors of the Founder's Festival were intriguing as well. Being a wanderer by nature, the idea that I might have alighted upon a festival was just too exciting to resist." she explains.

Social-buff go!
Bluff: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 10 + 2 = 26 to withhold information
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 25 to gather information/influence him; or +10+2+2+2
Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 to know about/chat about Founder's Festivals: NOPE
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13 to notice anything untoward
Charisma: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24 Hexy likes people to like her!
EDIT: Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20 on the mayor

"It's funny, I don't think I've ever been to one. A Founder's Festival, I mean. They didn't have them where I'm from. I'm curious what they're all about, really!" she adds, cheerfully.

"I'm actually a little surprised that you're having one! It's really great that you're capable, even with the whole weird 'monster thing' I've heard about. How do you all manage with that whole thing going on?" she asks, curious, but innocent enough.

EDIT: Adding a few more words, another skill roll, and altering the wording of one sentence to eliminate redundancy.

The Mayor paused slightly in his activities. "...Monster thing?" he asked, clearly not sure what you're talking about. It wasn't a very clear question, and there are many forms of monsters in the world. "You mean the Countess and her servants, or...?"

"Yeah. Isn't this all her region or something? Are they... you know... weird, or bothersome? Or are they just people like some say? Certainly sounded unusual, but, if it's not a bad thing, that's cool." she says! continue ing to work after a brief pause.

The Mayor just shrugs. "They don't really bother us any." he observed. "Drop in every few months to buy some of the harvest, but they forget us so often they didn't even send a tax collector until recently. Personally, I'm just as happy to leave them alone if they aren't making trouble for us. Ain't any good going to come of getting too involved with them."

"Tax collector?" asks Fae, blinkingly. "What must that look like?" she asks. "'blah-blah geef mee yoor mohnee! blah-blah!'" she adds, jokingly, while still working. "So he just claimed the taxes and left? Weird." she chuckles.

EDIT: Sorry. Thanks!

The mayor's expression darkened slightly. "Man wasted no time making a fool of himself — ordering townsfolk around and making unreasonable demands when he should have just come to me." he said bluntly. "I've seen cows smarter'n that."