Perched amid the cliffs of the Alabastar district, the wine bar known as the Nereid's Kiss is a world apart from the taverns otherwise scattered across Magnimar's streets. Within the spacious two-story establishment learned men from wealthy families gather to exchange ideas, discuss business, or even just gossip over the finest vintages the city of Monuments has to offer.
The Kiss's proprietor, a thin chelaxian man with sharp pale features, and his staff of enchantingly beautiful young ladies are currently hard at work attending to the needs of the dozen scholars and academics enjoying a quiet evening. Seated at the bar is a bedraggled man very visibly different from the rest, a man most will recognized as Teveran Stoll. He's currently excitedly talking with an exotic otherworldly woman.
The first Tear to step trough the door to the Nereid's Kiss was #1772. Like all other Tears, she was known simply as a number to the outside world. A name was something to be earned as a Sorrow - still far away for this particular Tear. She took a few steps inside the tavern and looked around, waiting for the other Tears to step trough the door a moment later.
She herself was dressed in an city watch uniform, but it was of an older model no longer in use - and it showed clear signs to have been refitted for her slighter frame. From her belt hang an assortment of tools, pouches and weapons - there was a longsword, a cudgel and even a pair of manacles! Her face was hidden behind an expressionless silver mask - like all other tears. The large blue batlike ears gave her away as something inhuman entirely - and the few exposed patches of flesh had the same deep blue colour, intersected by multiple white lines.
As she surveyed the scene, her eyes quickly latched on to Stoll. Her gaze behind the mask quickly shifted trough fear, worry and then finally determination. To her companions, she whispered in a low voice "That is most likely him ..."
Entering after 1772, the second Tear is a tall, tanned man. His upper body is uncovered, revealing a well-muscled physique covered in a complex network of tattoos and a patchwork of scars. His loincloth is belted with an assortment of gear: a pair of mismatched daggers, rope, manacles, and assorted roughly stitched pouches. His face is fully covered by the signature silver mask, but long black hair flows over his shoulders.
You talk? His common is heavily accented, but understandable.
0703 leans against the wall beside the door and scans the room. His posture is tense, and his muscles are coiled tight.
On her fellows heels, #1775 moves like a wraith. A long, black cloak coils about loose, black leather trousers and a silver-riveted corset. The hood of the cloak is draped over a head of long black hair hiding what features the bare silver mask does not cover. She moves to the fore of the group, her thick boots clicking on the Nereid's wooden floor. One hand rests at her side where pouches and a crossbow sit while the other curls menacingly in the cloak wrapping around her.
She pauses for a moment, turning her head slightly and nodding toward the blue Tear before striding confidently toward the bedraggled man. "Teveran Stoll? You are wanted for questioning by the Order." The masked face turns to the exotic woman and stares at her. The look has no emotion, the eyes behind the mask obscured by darkness. However, the intent behind the look is palatable. Leave, now.
1772 looks like she is about to respond, but thankfully 1775 takes the initiative and engages the wizard. With a sigh of relief 1772 follows the taller Tear in her wake, taking up position behind her. Her eyes is still glued on the wizard, watching his every move - barley registering the exotic woman next to him.
Yet another Tear enters the building a few moments later, having taken a few seconds to examine the exterior of the structure. This Tear is of average height, with broad shoulders and a thickly-corded musculature that betray his impressive physique. His hair is black and flowing, similar to that of the other male Tear in the room, though this one's has a bit more natural luster. His skin is tanned from long exposure to the sun, though perhaps it's a bit darker than a normal tan could accomplish. The tops of his hands and fingers have been intricately tattooed like close-fitting gloves, with hints of possible color here and there, disappearing when looked at directly.
He lets out a soft groan at the other Tear's words to the older man, but does not speak, though one hand moves absently toward the polearm at his back.
Tear #0004 enters the tavern. a definite female dressed in plain but slightly torn pants and dirty yet well worn leather armored shirt. she carries no weapons and seems a bit out of place in such an upscale establishment.
upon entering she looks about the room, observing the yappers head to do the yapping, she looks to Tear #0703. she punches him in the arm and motions for him move.
#0703 looks down, chuckles, and slides over a couple of feet to make some room.
He resumes his general observation of the room, but he obviously keeps returning his focus to the discussion involving the other members of his order.
The otherworldy woman is tall with amethyst and golden eyes. Her bald head almost sparkles but not with sweat. She is rather well dressed.
She laughs loudly -- but not too loudly; she has been enjoying her drink but she is still coherent. She is also leaning rather closely to the man she is speaking with. Perhaps she is more intoxicated than previously expected because it looks like one of her breasts grazed the mans arm as she leaned into whisper in his ear.
Behind her chair stands a man. No part of his skin is uncovered. He appears to be standing at attention.
"Leave us alone, peasant. I simply cannot abide when the hoi polloi try to interrupt their betters. Morris, darling, beat the peasant senseless if it tries to speak to us again."
Tapping her luscious lips thoughtfully, the Lady Yll addresses her companion. "You were saying, dear?"
#1772 is content to remain behind #1775, watching over the wizard from safely behind her cover. Silently, her lips moves as if chanting - This one is not the other, all will be fine. This one is not the other, all will be fine. This one is not the other, all will be fine... *Sigh* There is probably nothing to worry about, he's probably as harmless as Zayid said ... The exotic woman accopanying Stoll laughter snaps her out of her thoughts. Quickly she puts an arm on #1775s shoulder - hopefully fast enough before the hot tempered elf decided to take offence.
Then she saw it. The thing lurking in the shadows - the abomination. Where all others were alight with life before her sight, that one radiated wrongness - unlife, mockery of Phasmaras will! Her eyes were wide in chock and she stumbled backwards, frantically grasping for her sword. IKNEWITIKNEWITDAMMITALLTOHELL WHYTHEFLYINGDARKNESSDOESHEHAVEAMONSTERINAFREAKINGTAVERN ??????!!!!!! but all she managed to form in words were "Ahhh, abo - Abomination! H-he got a trice-dammed undead with him!" Her voice is low and stretched to the edge of breaking. The mosterous thing seemed to fill her entire vision - she just couldn't understand how she missed it when she entered, but now there seemed to be was nothing else in the room!
0703 snaps to attention at 1772's outburst. He moves off the wall towards the discussion immediately. Head turning as if on a swivel, he scans the room for threats.
What?
"Calm down this instant! Do not lose yourself over a mere bone and ligament creation. Heavens, girl.."
Re-directing her scathing gaze to the haughty woman, Ariana simply laughs quietly and turns, walking a few steps away. She casts a hand outward toward the woman and scowls, preparing to cast a spell. "Interfering with the actions of a law of this town is inappropriate. Step away from Stoll or be forcefully subjected to intense suffering."
With a series of quick deep breaths #1772 attempts to calm herself. She manages to resist the urge to go for the sword, but her hand clutches the hilt so hard her knuckles goes white. "B-but..!" She manages to force out.
0703 stops at the taller woman's words. He is still tense and alert, but waits impatiently for a tangible threat.
What's shaken her?
0224 reacts to 1772's outburst quickly, falling into a defensive stance as his breathing quickens, both hands going to his polearm. As the others try to calm the blue-skinned tear, 0224 relaxes only slightly, still eying the woman and her silent companion with suspicion and distrust. There I go again... what is it about her — them, really? I answer to them like... like a kid in a street family to his 'brothers'. It's like I'm attuned to them, trust them... in so short a time?
The silent porter with an unfortunate skin condition grabs at the elven peasant violating aristoi serenity, but misses.
Smiling haughtily at the blue masked peasant, the otherworldy woman grows ominous as she says something that sounds vaguely like the buzzing of flies.
"I do not know who you peasants are, and frankly I do not care. You should not interrupt your betters. Now I must whip some curs."
Teveran, apparently oblivious of the rapidly rising tension around him, continues to mutter to himself looking at the faces surrounding him for a sympathetic ear. The rest of the patrons, even those a few glasses in, are not so oblivious and the conversation quickly dwindles to only the slightest whisper. The presence of the Tears in particular seems to have killed the atmosphere and many begin gesturing for members of the staff to attend them so they can pay their tab and depart.
As the words of her fear spell begin on her perfect lips and after a subtle gesture to Morris, the Kiss is suddenly significantly more crowded as several powerfully built canines appear within the well-to-do wine bar. They stink of brimstone and immediately begin snarling and snapping at everyone within the establishment. A few panic, many scream, but the entire place erupts into chaos.
"It's another attack!" exclaims the polearm-wielding masked tear. "Get her! Don't let her summon any more of those things!"
Map is linked above and Here.
The masked tear with the polearm draws it and swings it hard at the nearest of the beasts, trusting his companions to deal with the foul woman summoning them. He dodges backward, daring the evil-looking dog to follow him.
Free action: Prescience
Will finish rest of action when I see what the Prescience die is :P
Ariana will hope the fates are with her before taking an action.
"Freia! Murder that undead monstrosity you are so frightened of! Noro, Pelgrev, can you cover us with Zayid from those things?"
"As for you, peasant?! I will enjoy hauling your unconscious body to the cells."
Ariana casts color spray on the woman and Stoll (DC 16), casting defensively (DC 17) .
#1772 snaps back to her senses as the world around her seems to lose theirs. She blinks, and then the common-room is filled with screams and feral hounds. But it wasn't either of them ! Neither Stoll nor the horrible lady seemed to have a hand in the summons - or if they did, they were good. Too good, we'll be dead in the blink of an eye if that is the case... Drawing her sword, she takes up a defensive position next to #1775. The well worn longswords blade is alight with crackling arcane energy. She wanted nothing more then to ram her blade into that abomination - but right now that one wasn't the main threat. To her companions she calls "It's not these two! Someone else is calling these hounds!" hoping her words would disarm some of the hostilities in the room.
Trigger: Hostile Action within her 5-foot threat, and/or overt threats to her or the other tears life followed by a 5-foot step.
Planes:
Also, the initiation of PvP worries me a little. That could have bad ramifications later.
The large tattooed man nonchalantly steps over the chair in front of him. A quick scan of the enemies shows 2 beasts to his right whose movement he can block. He places himself between the table & the bar, stepping over another chair.
The arrogant one didn't call the beasts? I need to keep my head. Too many strange things...At least we know the "things" are enemies.
He levels a viscious punch at the beast's head.
She wasn't planning on pvp until the other party initiated it..
Also, I do not read the power the same way but as it is your/Feral's table, its your decision. Can I ret-con to use that roll this time around now that I know that is how you will rule on it in the future?
We can proceed without retconing, but I would also like to run it as a full replacement roll in the future as it seem to fit the fluff and intent of the ability.
#0703 smacks one of the fiendish canines across the jaw while #0224 lands a vicious blow against another. This leaves both hyenas wounded but still standing.
Despite the frantic melee going on around her, the spellcasting Tear finishes her spell. The exotic woman resists the blast of dazzling color but the muttering scholar does not and he slumps to the ground unconscious.
Despite the hostile canine newcomers Yolanda tries to finish her spell. One of the masked Tears steps forward to try to interrupt her but the attack misses and instead she scores the lacquered bar top.
Terrifying images full the Tear's mind and she's quickly overcome with fear.
The demonic canines move into the crowd biting and tearing indiscriminately. The assorted patrons, in their mounting panic, crawl over each to escape. A few are savaged in their haste.
When it's done, two of the scholars lie unmoving in growing pools of their own blood.
As soon as she yelled for the cease-fire, the wicked witch started to work her dark spell. Yelping in surprise and anger, #1772 brought her sword to bear in an upwards arc towards the exotic assailant. In this very moment, the undead abomination surged forth towards #1775 - unwittingly intercepting her blade! Swearing a curse #1772 stepped back and readied herself for a savage trust. But the moment of distraction cost her, for when she once more turned her attention to the witch all she could see was the final words of the spell and ... Darkness!!
Screaming at the top of her lungs #1772 stumbled three steps back before turning tail and rushing towards the other tears, the irrational terror hounding her every step! She deftly leaped untop of the chair next to #0224, slamming her fist into the wall - No more room! No more room!!! Shaking, she swallowed hard and turned around. "F-fell m-magics! Trice-dammed d-darkness!" She mumbled. The feeling of dread was less overpowering over here, in safety with her companions - away from the terrible source. But still, all she could manage was to weakly raise her shaking blade, impotently stabbing the air towards the horrible shapes across the room.
Ariana will move back, avoiding the snarling hounds. Her fingers are already beginning a second spell as she moves back near Zayid and Noro. "Try not to split up too much, force the hounds to group up and I'll see if I can knock a few asleep. Noro, Zayid, if you both go after that one.."
The elf gestures with one hand while continuing the complex gestures with the other, arcane motes of light twinkling over her fingers. The hound she points to bears a red mark right in front of them.
Ariana springs back and begins her incantation.
#0224 steps forward and tries to take the nearest hyena down.
#0224 strikes down the wounded hyena with another blow from his polearm. A second after the beast slumps to the ground, it disappears in a cloud of brimstone.
#0004 looks about the room as the chaos erupts. sizing up the numerous opponents. trying to decide the greatest threat as well as who actually is a threat.
the arrogant woman is no more dangerous than a cute and fuzzy bunny, the so called undead thing? even #0713 could probably handle that thing.
noticing the hyena's are much more deadly Noro notices one that is desperate need of a not so friendly, "Punch in the face"
#0004 heads toward the hyena that is the biggest threat to innocents
as she approaches accelerates and comes down on the hyena with a drop kick.