As soon as the sword is securely in Roshan's hand, the gold flickers, there is a slight distortion in reality and the weapon in Roshan's hand is a golden starknife.Drea blinks. "Oh. Well. That rather changes things."
"It does. Mind if I try?" Chancre holds hs hand out to Roshan.
"Might I ask you a question about how you escaped from servitude?" Drea asks her quietly. "Was there a ... network of some sort of ifrit, or others, that aided you, or did you manage it on your own?"
Samirah looks, for a moment, like she wished you'd asked anything else. But like a cloud passing before the sun, she smiles again. "Since I was just a small girl then, and the only ifrit they'd caught at the time, they weren't exactly sure how to secure me. Like all my kin, probably, I have a bit of fire at my disposal, and burned away the bonds one night when they were all drunk and useless. I waited until we were very close to a city, don't recall which one, and ah... figured out how to get myself to the Plane of Fire.
She sighs. "But everything that came after that is much more interesting. How about you? How did someone of your... ilk... come to be in Kenabres? Assuming, of course, you didn't pop out of the ground when the other demons did?"
Once Samirah is steadied, she kicks the chest open with a dainty toe. "No worries, always glad for a hand with these things, though that trap would have been fairly easy to spring on my own."
She's not very confident about that. At all.
"Sorry, my pockets are ah... not much use when it comes to this sort of thing." She gestures at the loot. "Can you carry this? Or shall we have someone drop a bag down?"
Samirah sees and hears Anevia's reaction once she's read the letter, and hands the piece of paper to her. And once Konstantin has spoken, Samirah nods. "Much like our very tall, handsome friend here, Anevia, I am very interested in getting to the surface. We'll investigate the Eagle Swords as soon as we do." She pats the woman on the shoulder in a reassuring way.
Samirah claps her hands together in excitement once she sees the sword changing shape when Roshan holds it.
"Fascinating! As much as I love my own scimitar..." she strokes the handle of her weapon lovingly. "Chancre, can I have a turn after you?" She sounds like a child in a shop full of sweets.
Samirah looks, for a moment, like she wished you'd asked anything else. But like a cloud passing before the sun, she smiles again. "Since I was just a small girl then, and the only ifrit they'd caught at the time, they weren't exactly sure how to secure me. Like all my kin, probably, I have a bit of fire at my disposal, and burned away the bonds one night when they were all drunk and useless. I waited until we were very close to a city, don't recall which one, and ah... figured out how to get myself to the Plane of Fire.
"Ah. Sorry. I mainly asked because a lot of my kind are in bondage, and I've lately been wondering if there might be others who don't want to be, um ... awful, and how to find them if they exist to be found and free them if they need freeing ..." She shakes her head. "And I haven't the least idea how to even begin to go about something like that."
She sighs. "But everything that came after that is much more interesting. How about you? How did someone of your... ilk... come to be in Kenabres? Assuming, of course, you didn't pop out of the ground when the other demons did?"
Drea smiles. "No, I traveled here overland, in caravans or on foot. I arrived a few days ago. I'd been planning to sign up for the war effort just after the Armasse celebration. The war arrived in town before I had a chance."
"I came here from Varisia; I've been in a monastery there for about the last decade. Before that, I don't remember very much. From what little I can recall of earlier times, that may be a blessing, though."
"Sorry, my pockets are ah... not much use when it comes to this sort of thing." She gestures at the loot. "Can you carry this? Or shall we have someone drop a bag down?"
Drea looks it over. "I should be able to carry it, I think. I have a very roomy backpack we found further back in the tunnels."
"Fascinating! As much as I love my own scimitar..." she strokes the handle of her weapon lovingly. "Chancre, can I have a turn after you?" She sounds like a child in a shop full of sweets.
"I wonder if perhaps we should all take a turn with it," Drea says.
Roshan wordlessly passes the golden weapon first to Chancre and then the others.
"Much like our very tall, handsome friend here,"
Konstantin coughs.
Sigrit answers the question, assuming it was asked of her -- though she does note Chancre's answer with interest. "I serve Pharasma. If you wish healing, gather near me."
She groups the wounded near her and holds her holy symbol aloft, channeling the power of her Goddess twice.
She performs an additional spell on Chancre:
Cure Light Wounds
She acknowledges the additional introductions, and quietly offers to examine the newly blinded man's eyes once a more congenial locale has been reached, warning him that she is unlikely to be able to assist... But is willing to try. And what she can't fix now, perhaps she can fix in the future.
Sigrit listens intently to the discussion of Drea's abilities, but her e pression is neutral and she contributes nothing. She does make a point of extending courtesies to Drea afterwards though, as the group travels.
Perception check for the unusual stonework, with racial bonus:
"It sounds like we have something in common then. I can't claim to know much about... succubi? Demons in general? Though I did meet quite a few in the City of Brass. Terrible lot. Easy to figure out. Evil. You know." She shakes her head. "Anyway, so, stop me if I'm being insensitive, but my general impression was that a succubus who didn't want to do what they did was much like a fish who no longer wished to swim. Are you looking to redeem others, or are you looking for the hope that you can be redeemed? I imagine monasteries are fairly dull, but a good place to be for those wishing to... drop a habit."
Samirah moves next to Roshan while Chancre takes the weapon. "So, tell me, what happened when the sword changed in your hand? What did it feel like?"
Sigrit answers the question, assuming it was asked of her -- though she does note Chancre's answer with interest. "I serve Pharasma. If you wish healing, gather near me."
She groups the wounded near her and holds her holy symbol aloft, channeling the power of her Goddess twice.She performs an additional spell on Chancre.
"Might you have any more such spells available?" Drea asks politely. "I can avail myself of a potion if not."
"It sounds like we have something in common then. I can't claim to know much about... succubi? Demons in general? Though I did meet quite a few in the City of Brass. Terrible lot. Easy to figure out. Evil. You know." She shakes her head. "Anyway, so, stop me if I'm being insensitive, but my general impression was that a succubus who didn't want to do what they did was much like a fish who no longer wished to swim. Are you looking to redeem others, or are you looking for the hope that you can be redeemed? I imagine monasteries are fairly dull, but a good place to be for those wishing to... drop a habit."
"Well. Yes. A decade's training in, essentially, dropping particular habits has certainly had an effect. Am I redeemed?" She shrugs. "That rather depends on what I do, now and from here on out, doesn't it? I tend to think of it as an ongoing process. I'd like both to continue that process and help others along with it, and the latter is very much a reason I decided it was time to get out of the monastery. That, and, well, the vast majority of my kinfolk, out destroying the world, it does weigh on the mind."
"My circumstances are unusual, and I'm not even completely sure I'm a ... normal sort of demon. But I do hold out hope that there are other fish who, for whatever reason of their own, have decided that something is terribly, terribly wrong with the water."
Drea thinks for a moment as a few tumblers click (correctly? incorrectly?) into place, and then adds, much, much more quietly.
"Um. I don't mean to presume and may be well off the mark, but if ... getting yourself back to the Plane of Fire resulted in any, er, ongoing inconveniences that may come up, helping someone out of that kind of situation seems rather in the nature of what I would like to be doing. Without question or comment, if you would prefer."
After receiving the benefits of Sigrit's healing channel, Samirah bows her head in thanks. "Glad to see you didn't become a sacrifice!"
Samirah nods, then laughs when Drea is done speaking. "Well said! In the case of demons, I think it safe to say the water is pretty terrible. And it's good of you to want to help them find their legs."
She waves her hand as though clearing the air of Drea's concerns. "I don't mind questions and comments, as you may have noticed, I love talking." She pauses, thinking about Drea's offer. "If any of those people even remembered I'd escaped, or recognized me as the little ifrit who fled them, I'd be extremely surprised. But! I appreciate the offer. I'd be more concerned about efreet from the City, though they very seldom leave their Plane. And probably don't miss me very much."
Konstantin coughs.
Samirah very indiscreetly looks at his hands, where she knows she saw claws earlier. She reaches a finger out and pokes the back of his hand. "You look pretty human to me... is that a spell you use to grow claws?"
"Might you have any more such spells available?" Drea asks politely. "I can avail myself of a potion if not."
"I do." Sigrit lays her hands on Dream and prays. "If we are to travel together long, it would be useful for me to examine your body when you are relatively unhurt, when we are someplace safe and clean. I have not seen your kind before; easier to fix you if I am sure how you're supposed to work. With your permission."
Cure Light Wounds
After receiving the benefits of Sigrit's healing channel, Samirah bows her head in thanks. "Glad to see you didn't become a sacrifice!"
Sigrit visibly struggles to find an appropriate answer to this. After an awkwardly long pause, she settles on,"You are welcome. I heard your voice, through my dreams, or in them."
Samirah very indiscreetly looks at his hands, where she knows she saw claws earlier. She reaches a finger out and pokes the back of his hand. "You look pretty human to me... is that a spell you use to grow claws?"
Konstantin flexes the hand. "Sometimes I forget I am in a place where my name doesn't tell the whole story. I am human, yes, for the most part. The claws are a gift from my ancestor."
Roshan wordlessly passes the golden weapon first to Chancre and then the others.
When Chancre takes the starknife there is a flicker again, resolving itself as a golden rapier.
Samirah claps her hands together in excitement once she sees the sword changing shape when Roshan holds it.
"Fascinating! As much as I love my own scimitar..." she strokes the handle of her weapon lovingly. "Chancre, can I have a turn after you?" She sounds like a child in a shop full of sweets.
The weapon flickers in Samirah's hand, the ghostly image of a scimitar appearing overlayed before the weapon settles back into a longsword.
"I wonder if perhaps we should all take a turn with it," Drea says.
There is a flicker similar to Samirah's when Drea takes the longsword, only there is an image of a hand crossbow before it firms back into reality as a longbow.
Sigrit visibly struggles to find an appropriate answer to this. After an awkwardly long pause, she settles on,"You are welcome. I heard your voice, through my dreams, or in them."
Samirah looks completely unperturbed by long, awkward pauses. "What were you dreaming about?"
Konstantin flexes the hand. "Sometimes I forget I am in a place where my name doesn't tell the whole story. I am human, yes, for the most part. The claws are a gift from my ancestor."
She pulls her hand back and looks around the cave. "I think this kind of place doesn't suit story telling, via name or any other method. Maybe you can tell me more, later?"
The weapon flickers in Samirah's hand, the ghostly image of a scimitar appearing overlayed before the weapon settles back into a longsword.
Samirah watches Chancre's weapon, becoming more excited, only to have her face fall into a pout when she watches her ghostly scimitar fade back into a longsword.
"მაქვს უამრავი რწმენა, მადლობა." She mutters, handing the sword to Drea.
"I have plenty of faith, thank you."
"This sword seems a little judgmental." She says, voice turned haughty.
"I do." Sigrit lays her hands on Dream and prays. "If we are to travel together long, it would be useful for me to examine your body when you are relatively unhurt, when we are someplace safe and clean. I have not seen your kind before; easier to fix you if I am sure how you're supposed to work. With your permission."
"Thank you," Drea says. "And, um ... OK." She thinks for a moment. "When you do, please let me know if you notice any particular reason why my wings currently generate about as much lift and stability as a folded paper toy."
The rats do allow the group to pass by unmolested, although there is a nervous moment when the big one scurrys out of the nest in a charge that peters out short of the group.
A rusted iron door blocks the groups movement eastward, but some muscle and a great loud squeal of pulling rust eventually opens.
Surprising, because it wasn't on the map sketched by Chief Sull, the group is confronted by a large chamber that had been a cistern. Walls of identical stone blocks hold up a lofty ceiling reinforced with elegant arches, while the interior has been filled by a tight maze.
There is a flicker similar to Samirah's when Drea takes the longsword, only there is an image of a hand crossbow
Drea raises her eyebrows at the image, but other than that simply passes it along to whomever would like to try next.
She pulls her hand back and looks around the cave. "I think this kind of place doesn't suit story telling, via name or any other method. Maybe you can tell me more, later?"
He nods in agreement. "As you like. I would feel rather foolish telling my family history in this place."
"This sword seems a little judgmental." She says, voice turned haughty.
"I wonder what it's judging, exactly." Drea sounds genuinely perplexed.
Surprising, because it wasn't on the map sketched by Chief Sull, the group is confronted by a large chamber that had been a cistern. Walls of identical stone blocks hold up a lofty ceiling reinforced with elegant arches, while the interior has been filled by a tight maze.
"Trapped, do you think?" Drea asks quietly. "Or ... would a monster at the center be more in keeping with the concept?"
He nods in agreement. "As you like. I would feel rather foolish telling my family history in this place."
"I'll hold you to it!" She leans in conspiratorially and lowers her voice.
"And if it's a scary story, you can hold me through it."
She snickers and saunters away to talk to someone else.
She waves her hand as though clearing the air of Drea's concerns. "I don't mind questions and comments, as you may have noticed, I love talking." She pauses, thinking about Drea's offer. "If any of those people even remembered I'd escaped, or recognized me as the little ifrit who fled them, I'd be extremely surprised. But! I appreciate the offer. I'd be more concerned about efreet from the City, though they very seldom leave their Plane. And probably don't miss me very much."
Drea nods. "Well, then. If the efreet of the City ever do become a problem for you, please do feel free to call on me for aid should you need it."
When Chancre takes the starknife there is a flicker again, resolving itself as a golden rapier.
"Neat," Chancre says before handing it off.
"I'll hold you to it!" She leans in conspiratorially and lowers her voice.
She snickers and saunters away to talk to someone else.
Konstantin shakes his head.
"Так вот что мать предупреждала меня о," he mutters.
He looks over at Roshan and gives something between a rueful, resigned, and baffled shrug.
"Roshan," Drea says formally, "May I have your blessing to take Míril out for coffee?"
Samirah moves next to Roshan while Chancre takes the weapon. "So, tell me, what happened when the sword changed in your hand? What did it feel like?"
Roshan takes on a thoughtful, introspective look, his left hand touching his upper lip momentarily while his eyes look beyond what can be seen in their current surroundings. He refocuses on Samirah, then his arms gesture broadly all around them, his motions slow appreciably as he takes a step or two, then he brings a hand to his ear, cupping it with a questioning look as if he's straining to hear. He smiles down at her, returning to normal speed, nods almost as much to himself as to her and returns to the shadows, sitting with his back to a wall.
Sigrit
After receiving the benefits of Sigrit's healing channel, Samirah bows her head in thanks. "Glad to see you didn't become a sacrifice!"
A right index finger to the side of his nose, his left again briefly points at the fiery young lady. He seconds her nod to Sigrit with one of his own.
Konstantin flexes the hand. "Sometimes I forget I am in a place where my name doesn't tell the whole story. I am human, yes, for the most part. The claws are a gift from my ancestor."
The perceptive might notice a small nod, probably more to himself then anyone else.
"This sword seems a little judgmental." She says, voice turned haughty.
Roshan's eyes seem to like to follow Samirah. This occasion is no exception. Though this time there may be an added twinkle.
"I wonder what it's judging, exactly." Drea sounds genuinely perplexed.
Roshan looks contemplative, his eyes going to the far upper reaches of the cavern. He purses his lips for a moment, then with a small shake of the head returns to examining his gear.
Roshan takes on a thoughtful, introspective look, his left hand touching his upper lip momentarily while his eyes look beyond what can be seen in their current surroundings. He refocuses on Samirah, then his arms gesture broadly all around them, his motions slow appreciably as he takes a step or two, then he brings a hand to his ear, cupping it with a questioning look as if he's straining to hear. He smiles down at her, returning to normal speed, nods almost as much to himself as to her and returns to the shadows, sitting with his back to a wall.
Samirah nods as if completely understanding everything he gestured. When he seats himself against the wall, she then turns to Miril to take her aside for a quiet word.
"Does he really not speak aloud? I mean, the gesturing is fun to watch, but... that's it? So if I bothered him for hours I'd just get the pantomime?"
Konstantin shakes his head.
"Так вот что мать предупреждала меня о," he mutters.
He looks over at Roshan and gives something between a rueful, resigned, and baffled shrug.
It's possible his nostrils flare slightly accompanied by a twinkle of the eyes as they momentarily focus on Kon before moving away again. Other than that, Roshan seems to maintain a rather stoic outward appearance.
Surprising, because it wasn't on the map sketched by Chief Sull, the group is confronted by a large chamber that had been a cistern. Walls of identical stone blocks hold up a lofty ceiling reinforced with elegant arches, while the interior has been filled by a tight maze."Trapped, do you think?" Drea asks quietly. "Or ... would a monster at the center be more in keeping with the concept?"
Roshan shrugs, looks around for any other possible pathway. Seeing none, he will enter the maze. However, especially since he is not at his best, he does so carefully.
His left eyebrow raises, his mouth opens then shuts. He takes a half step back. His demeanor becomes more solemn and with left hand behind left hip he bows deeply with right hand on chest before it moves away and towards Miril with a little flourish. He comes back upright with a smile, a blink and small nod for each of them.
Drea grins. Possibly even somewhat goofily, if someone with a mouth full of tiny white knives can be said to be grinning goofily.
Roshan takes on a thoughtful, introspective look, his left hand touching his upper lip momentarily while his eyes look beyond what can be seen in their current surroundings. He refocuses on Samirah, then his arms gesture broadly all around them, his motions slow appreciably as he takes a step or two, then he brings a hand to his ear, cupping it with a questioning look as if he's straining to hear.
"Hm," Drea says. "It wasn't like that for me at all."
"I still don't ... Chancre, does your deity favor any particular sort of weapon?"
Drea will likewise proceed forward cautiously.
"I still don't ... Chancre, does your deity favor any particular sort of weapon?"
"The rapier," Chancre says. "Which the weapon transformed into. although not my idiosyncratic rapier." He gestures at the corkscrew rapier hanging by his side.
"The rapier," Chancre says. "Which the weapon transformed into. although not my idiosyncratic rapier." He gestures at the corkscrew rapier hanging by his side.
Drea nods. "Do you happen to know if there's any particular deity who has a fondness for the hand crossbow?"
"The rapier," Chancre says. "Which the weapon transformed into. although not my idiosyncratic rapier." He gestures at the corkscrew rapier hanging by his side.
"That's a rapier?"
Konstantin will follow the others in. He puts a hand on the left wall and follows that.
Upon entering the chamber, Samirah grows quiet and she falls in line somewhere in the middle of the group.
After receiving the benefits of Sigrit's healing channel, Samirah bows her head in thanks. "Glad to see you didn't become a sacrifice!"A right index finger to the side of his nose, his left again briefly points at the fiery young lady. He seconds her nod to Sigrit with one of his own.
"You're welcome, too. Would you like a little more healing?"
If Roshan accepts, she will cast a Cure Light Wounds on him, as well.
Sigrit visibly struggles to find an appropriate answer to this. After an awkwardly long pause, she settles on,"You are welcome. I heard your voice, through my dreams, or in them."Samirah looks completely unperturbed by long, awkward pauses. "What were you dreaming about?"
Having finished her healing, Sigrit has begun gathering and resettling her belongings that her captors had taken from her. She dons a heavy breastplate with easy familiarity, but stops mid-action to answer Samirah.
"I remember only scattered perceptions, and they fade from my grasp the longer I am awake. I saw ravens flying, and they had silver scales in place of some of their feathers. I heard a woman's voice, yours, in the cadences of a master talespeaker; it was such a story that I could listen to it forever, and I wanted to weep each time I drifted out of reach of your voice. But I also heard your voice laughing, the sort of laughter that is really a scream of pain or rage or grief..."
She falls silent, and spotting something in the corner, lifts what turns out to be a well-used battle axe. She looks it over, tests the fittings, then secures it to her person.
Drea nods. "Do you happen to know if there's any particular deity who has a fondness for the hand crossbow?"
Chancre thinks for a minute. "Not immediately, but if I think of one as we travel, I will let you know."
"That's a rapier?"
"Yes," says Chancre. "Do you like the design? I paid one of the finest metalsmiths of Sandpoint to curve it like that. Not only does it cut a curved channel through the body, it can be used for opening bottles of alcohol."
"Yes," says Chancre. "Do you like the design? I paid one of the finest metalsmiths of Sandpoint to curve it like that. Not only does it cut a curved channel through the body, it can be used for opening bottles of alcohol."
"Oh!" Konstantin brightens. "It seems effective. I was concerned... Taldane is not my first language, and I thought perhaps I had been using the term 'rapier' incorrectly. Fortunately, it has not come up very much."
"I remember only scattered perceptions, and they fade from my grasp the longer I am awake. I saw ravens flying, and they had silver scales in place of some of their feathers. I heard a woman's voice, yours, in the cadences of a master talespeaker; it was such a story that I could listen to it forever, and I wanted to weep each time I drifted out of reach of your voice. But I also heard your voice laughing, the sort of laughter that is really a scream of pain or rage or grief..."
Samirah looks like she's gearing up to make some smug quip or another, but by the end of Sigrit's answer, she looks very solemn. "That sounds like a sad dream," she says after a few moments. "You're not known for precognition where you come from, are you?"
If Roshan accepts, she will cast a Cure Light Wounds on him, as well.
1d8+2
Roshan does accept and, placing left hand over right fist, bows deferentially in appreciation.
"Yes," says Chancre. "Do you like the design? I paid one of the finest metalsmiths of Sandpoint to curve it like that. Not only does it cut a curved channel through the body, it can be used for opening bottles of alcohol."
Drea's head whips around at the mention of Sandpoint. As soon as Konstantin has finished responding to Chancre, she says, "When were you in Sandpoint? I lived there for years, right up until I came here, did Das do your sword? He's good, but what a jerk, I just got my kama and spear from Savah, or actually she kind of made me get them because I wasn't going to buy any weapons at all but when she heard I was going off without any she came to find me and started yelling 'Just try punching a zombie and see how much good it does you' and 'Sometimes kicking a monster hurts you more than it' and 'You never know when you're going to have to carve your way out of something's stomach' and I have to admit I'm starting to take that last one a lot more seriously these days."
Drea finally takes a breath.
Chancre thinks for a minute ... two. "Maybe a decade ago," he says finally, counting on his fingers up to seven. "I pretty much ended up that way after my time with the Chelish. Wandered for a bit. Walked to Kenabres. Fell in a hole. Yeah, somewhere between eight and twelve years."
"It was a woman. Pretty sure. Watched her work because you don't see too many women in that profession." Chancre smiles at the memory. "She charged me extra because I think it annoyed her."