"Hey Pogug! cloud-dude'll follow your orders." Evalee shouts to get the goblin's attention.
"Hey Pogug! cloud-dude'll follow your orders." Evalee shouts to get the goblin's attention.
Right then. Cloud-dude readies his action.
Zarine sighs, drops her performance, and turns to Gregor in the audience.
Mr. Maleffect, with respect, I appreciate the callback, but I don't think I am the right person for your carnival. I have enough problems being accepted, and trying to overcome shooting at people and calling them names... I just don't think I'm up to it. I heard there was another carnival coming to town in a few months... I'll try to get into that one instead. Thank you for the opportunity, and fare you well.
She turns around briefly.
Good luck Nathaniel. I apologize for not being a better teammate. And good luck to you all.
Then she walks away.
Gregor raises an eyebrow, but says nothing as he watches Zarine leave.
Pastries...mm...chocolate pastries...
Nathaniel steps away from Ashak but the acrobat is right behind him. He prances forward and cuts at whitecloak's arms in unison.
Aphrashai calls out to those assembled, "We shall give you all a chance to surrender. Will you take it, or do you wish to feel the pain?"
Mmmmzz...The flesh is only the playground of the mind..umf...
"I'll take it if Pogug doesn't object." In a heartbeat . . . I think the winner has already been determined.
Pogug looks around uncertainly. His eyes suddenly shine with resolve, as he tosses his crossbow to the ground. "POGUG CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!" he shouts, as he dashes across the field. He pulls his rapier from his belt, and thrusts it at Ashak.
As Pogug charges forward, he passes within Erin's reach. She swings her lance in an arc low to the ground, sweeping the goblin's legs out from under him.
Nathaniel contemplated the mystic's offer to surrender, still keeping a defensive posture as he bled from the multiple surface wounds he had garnered. His eyes lit up briefly as Pogug charged across the arena, hoping the goblin's skills with the rapier he pulled out were better than his ho-hum performance with the crossbow. As Erin reached out with her lance, comically causing the goblin to stumble (at least he managed to not skewer himself), the young man sighed and nodded at Evalee, dropping his dagger to the ground. Against any one of these three from Team West arrayed against him he would bet on himself, but not against all three.
"I'll concede." He bowed to the mystic and the other two, holding his hands up to indicate he was a non-combatant at this point.
As Nathaniel's dagger drops to the ground, Erin clambers heavily to her feat. She brings her lance back around to Pogug, poised over the goblin's prone form. "I wouldn't try it, if I were you."
Pogug slams to the ground, lying on his back. After a moment, he begins to throw what would be akin to a tantrum.
"Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid..."
Ashak claps Nathaniel on the shoulder, and gives a quick salute. "no hard feelings."
Ashak performs a cork-screw flip and lands on the other side of Pogug. He crouches down to look the goblin in the eyes. "careful where you stick that thing little fella." Then he strikes the goblin twice in parallel cuts down his chest.
The kukri bring forth streams of red and flash in circles as Ashak performs a brief, bloody juggling routine.
Aphrashai approaches the goblin and crouches down near him, although giving a wide berth in case of an attack. He says in a soft and soothing voice, "Now little one, I am sure that hurt. If you stop fighting we will be friends. Does that sound good?"
Pogug sits up and pouts, but makes no real effort to attack.
"Pogug will let yous off this time."
That's enough, you hear from the stands. You turn to see Gregor, standing in front of them. Give us a moment to confer. You then see him turn and speak in a lower voice with the other members of the carnival assembled there.
He gestures over his shoulder to one of them, a slender man with wild, mostly white hair that sticks out in clumps in all directions. He wears a long coat that is a light tan, almost off-white color, with numerous stitched pockets. It appears to be made of some kind of leather or hide. The man has been reclining in the stands, resting his elbows on the plank behind him. He leans forward at a lazy pace before standing and taking a long swig from a flask. Closing the flask, he wipes his mouth on his sleeve.
As the others discuss among themselves, the man begins to walk toward you. He carries a cane, but doesn't seem to use it as he walks, though his pace is not quick, and you can detect only the slightest hint of a limp. He walks out toward the group, waving Evalee over to join the others. As he comes to a stop amongst you, he puts his cane under his arm and begins to pat various pockets in his coat, dipping his hand briefly inside some of them. After the first few pockets he checks, failing to find whatever he's looking for, he begins to grumble to himself unintelligibly.
There you are! he says, as he pulls an item from his coat's interior breast pocket. He pulls out a device that looks like a large pocket watch, or possibly a compass made of a bright white metal, with a greem gem where its face should be. He turns the gem, and it makes a clicking sound. He stares at it for a moment, but nothing happens. He looks closely into the gem, holds the device up to his ear and shakes it, then holds it out in front of him and smacks the side of it with his other hand a few times. Suddenly, there is a blinding flash of green light from the gem, and a wave of green light pulses out, washing over and through you. The energy tingles, and makes your hair stand on end. As this happens, those of you who are wounded can feel your wounds close up. You feel refreshed, but also slightly dirty. Ahhh, that's the stuff.
You each heal 15 points of damage (up to your maximum), and an additional 15 points of nonlethal damage.
Clyde grunts as the healing magic washes over him and sits up .Umph..What a drubbing I took. He bounces to his feet and bows to his fellows.No hard feelings, that is why I am here, to be a figure of fun and fury.
That's enough
At Gregor's words, Erin's entire demeanor changes. She exhales heavily, her shoulders slumping and her lance sliding though her fingers to the ground. The color drains out of her face, and for a moment it looks as though she's about to throw up. She takes a step, stumbles, and falls to her knees, bending over Epsilon's motionless body to stare at his wounds.
As the wave of green light washes over them and their wounds disappear, Epsilon wakes up and crawls forward a few feet, stretching his wings wide. Erin smiles, then gives a nervous laugh. She looks around at the others as though awakening from a trance.
Ashak quickly stows his blades in hidden sheathes on his wrists. He leans down and offers Pogug a hand to his feet, then pulls out a dirty cloth and begins trying to clean off the blood splattered on his armor and skin.
"well that was fun"
As the light washes over everyone Ashak looks to the healer.
"thank you sir, very kind"
Nathaniel nodded at Ashak as he spoke of no hard feelings. It wasn't personal, really...it was just hard to be chummy with someone that just stabbed you multiple times, even if the wounds were intentionally shallow. Turning slightly, he watched the theatrics of Pogug and the swift realization of the goblin that he too should surrender.
As Gregor called for the fighting to stop, Nate went to shake hands with the victors and the defeated both, determined to be a good sport about things. He had worked as a carny before, after all...there were plenty of egos in a place such as this, and one had to learn to let things roll off the shoulders.
As Erin collapsed to her knees, the young man rushed to her side, noting the terrible condition she seemed to be in after the fight (maybe demonstration was a better word for it) was called to a halt. "You ok?" When the healing washed over them and the halfling started to smile, Nathaniel shrugged, assuming she had just gotten tired after kicking their collective asses.
With that the juggler stood by, eyeing the strange man who had healed them with amusement but nervously watching as Gregor and the others in the Southern stands conferred.
"Um, if you don't mind I'm going to summon Sephy back. So if I'm staring into the middle distance and chanting nonstop in infernal, that's probably what I'm doing. I'm still listening, but I won't be able to respond without . . . interrupting the ritual."
If nothing of note happens in the next minute, Evalee summons Semsephiel and casts lesser rejuvenate eidolon on him.
Aphrashai smiles at Ashak and Erin, "Famously done my compatriots. Excellent work." He then extends his hand to Nathaniel, "No hard feelings friend. I apologise for mucking about in your head. I should hope it will not need to happen again."
"And you Aphrashai, I hope never to find myself on the other end of that glare. It looks... uncomfortable."
Erin stands up, giving a nod to Nathaniel. "...yeah. Thanks." She turns to the others. "This is a pretty awkward foot to start off on, isn't it? 'Hello, I'm Erin, prepare to die.'"
"thank you sir, very kind"
What? He looks up from his device, obviously more interested in it than in you. Oh, yeah, he lets out a burp, whatever. Then he turns and walks back to the others, continuing to fiddle with his device.
The conversation continues for another minute. After Evalee's summoning is completed and Erin's fatigue wears off, the group in the stands begins to disband. The tiefling boy from the night before jogs over to you, carrying a list on a scrap of paper. He reads out the following names, handing another token to each person named as he does so. These tokens look like the ones you already received, but they are made of silver, and the stylized S seems to glow.
Ashak the Acrobat.
Erin Reynor.
Evalee Ribbinz.
Nathaniel Whitecloak.
Pogug.
Turning to those who weren't named, the boy shrugs. Sorry. Then, turning back to those who were named, Rest up, and come back here at the same time tomorrow. We gotta see how you do in front of a real audience.
Aphrashai scowls slightly before shrugging and saying, "Well, I suppose you all shall do alright without me. I wish you the best of luck in you carnival adventures." With that, he sheathes his sword cane and wanders off, whistling an old carnival tune.
Evalee started chanting some nonsense, presumably to bring back the dangerous companion of hers. Or some such thing, anyway...Nathaniel had never really understood any of it. She was a pretty little thing, but still, there was business to attend to.
The young man grinned at Erin's statement, just nodding in agreement. What a strange start to the day. He glanced at the healer with an odd expression, wondering if the man was alright in the head. He supposed it didn't matter too much, as long as he did...well, whatever it was he did around here.
As the tiefling boy came over and read off the names, the juggler let out a sigh of relief. He had been scared to death of doing this type of work for the last couple of years, but had been staving off the disappointing feeling of rejection now that he was finally ready to re-engage the life.
Nathaniel took his silver disk, having a fleeting thought of selling it and just moving on. Something seemed...different...about this outfit. Still, the young man shrugged and waved to the others before gathering his weapons and departing towards the flophouse he had stayed in the previous evening. Hopefully they had a room available. Such places typically did.
Ashak flips the token and snatches it out of the air, tucking it away somewhere beneath his leathers. Retrieving his outer layers from the stands he calls out to the others.
"I could use a drink after all that. I'll be at the tavern down the street if anyone cares to join me, the dancing, prancing, something?... I don't know what it's called. Guess i'll see ya in the morning."
he heads out of the arena without waiting for an answer. He waves back over his head.
As her name is read off the list, Erin looks a bit stunned, but her smile ever so slightly widens. She wordlessly accepts her token, then bends down to pick up her backpack and wand from the arena floor.
"Well, I guess... I guess I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow."
She turns and extends a hand to her flying squirrel familiar, who has always been a flying squirrel and who has definitely never been anything else, because that would be silly. Her definitely-a-squirrel, Chi, immediately shrinks back to his normal size and scampers up her arm, squeezing into her backpack through a pocket that should have been much to small for him. Erin gives the group one last wave, then turns and walks out of the carnival.
She is still smiling.
Nathaniel shrugged, taking off after the other knife-master to join him for drinks. Or a drink, at least...no sense in getting ahead of himself. As they walked, the young man glanced over at the other man. "Done all kinds of stunts and whatnot before, done some very humiliating things in the course of looking for work, but I have to say that 'kind of' mock fighting is a first for me. This seems a strange circus."
Nate's words aren't in any way dispirited or unsettled, just curious. He checked out his wounds as he walks, pleased to see that the healing effects have left very little in the way of scarring. These people had resources, that was certain. More resources than a typical carnival.
Ashak lets out a harsh sort of chuckle-snort at nathaniel's comment.
"I fought for a time in the pits of Halcea. Fighting for a crowd is nothing new for me, but even still these people seem an interesting bunch. One thing is for sure, we have gotten ourselves into a very exciting situation here."
Ashak pulls hood up and wraps his scarf around his face, concealing his appearance as the pair of knife fighters approach the tavern. He looks at Nathaniel checking his wounds.
"Patch up all right? I tried to keep everything as superficial as possible but it isn't exactly my speciality."
Nathaniel shrugged, again glancing at where the wounds were. "Seems ok. It's a bit late to have reservations about scars though, am I right?" The young man chuckled as they walked into the bar.
"A few drinks ought to patch up the rest, don't you think? My treat." Nate was feeling pretty generous, having been accepted into the carnival, even after being on the losing side of things. This wasn't the young juggler's first stint with a circus, either, so he knew it paid to have friends and keep everyone at least neutral towards you.
"Right you are!"
Ashak finds a table near the back while Nathaniel grabs drinks. He tosses his feet up on the table and pulls his scarf down, making sure his hood covers his burned face as much as possible.
when Nate returns.
"So what sort of perfomance do you think is in store for tomorrow? More bloodsport? Or something less, um.. bloody?"
After Nathaniel returned with the drinks, the young man pondered Ashak's question for a moment as he took a large swallow of the bitter brew. Yikes...hopefully it was as potent as it was foul-tasting. "I should hope something less bloody...although putting on staged fights might be entertaining enough, I suppose. People love to see blood, and as long as they have a healer on board, I guess it probably won't get too extreme. Still, though, I'd rather not. Tempers can flare during such things, I suspect, and 'accidents' are bound to occur at some point. Hopefully it was just a test to see how serious we were."
As the juggler noticed Ashak continuing to attempt to cover up the burns on his face, the young man smiled grimly. "Might as well stop covering up...in an outfit like this, they'll want you to stick out and be memorable. The more amazing and unique the scarring, the better." Nate took another pull at his tankard, smacking his lips afterwards. Much better.
Ashak stops mid sip when Nathaniel mentions covering up. He clearly isn't used to other people bringing it up, at least not in such a friendly way.
"I suppose you're right, during a performance.. out in the world I find I draw more attention than i'd like. Most of it negative. Honestly its as much about hiding my race as it is the burns. People are much more willing to serve the short guy in a hood than the burned up hobgoblin. For some reason people just don't seem to like my kind. HA! Can't imagine why... I mean.. I can.. I get it.. we are pretty awful..."
He trails off and goes back to his drink, the acrobat speaks with an air of intelligence but it doesn't seem like he's used to just having a chat over a drink.
You arrive the next day in the ring at the north end of the carnival. It looks a bit different today, and you realize that it is because there are more people milling about. The carnival is in full swing, and there are performances going on in the big top.
You are met by the tiefling boy, who sits smoking in the stands as he waits for your arrival. There are also a few customers who have wandered up to the ring and are sitting around talking or just resting their legs.
As each of you arrive, the tiefling boy waves you over to where he is sitting. He explains that you will be fighting again later in the day, but for now, you should start warming up and entertaining the crowd. "Crowd" is a bit of a misnomer at the moment, but thus far, there's not much going on to draw one in this area.
Semsephiel scowls, staring down anyone who gets too close or looks too happy. As a matter of routine he searches the immediate area for traps ( ) or suspicious characters. (besides himself, of course.) ( ) Satisfied that there are no apparent threats he falls into step behind Evalee, glaring at anyone who gets too close. Or looks too happy.
God, he muses with an inward grin, but how I've missed scaring mortals. Semsephiel is a violent creature, and he's happy to be back at work in that field.
Evalee, for her part, is not sure why people keep shying away from her.
The tiefling waves Evalee over. She speaks before he has a chance. "Y'know," she blurts, worry evident on her face, "Physicians and clerics agree that breathing smoke is really bad for your lungs. Like, really really bad. Even if you have fire resistance. You get, uh, pneumonia. Can get. Not always. But it, uh, it's a risk best not to run." She's worried she wasn't convincing enough, and is also feeling uncomfortable, so she keeps rambling. "After all, you only have one lung, so you need- sorry. You only have one set of lungs. I was trying to say that you only have one life but I got it mixed up with you only have one body and then I said lung. But you need both your lungs, so it's a moot point." Evalee comtemplates the fact that this conversation went downhill surprisingly quickly considering that it was entirely one sided. She resolves to never talk to anyone ever again. "Anyway-you-need-to-take-care-of-your-one-set-of-lungs-kay-sorry-bye-wait-w hy-did-you-call-us-over-here?" she says in one breath.
As each of you arrive, the tiefling boy waves you over to where he is sitting. He explains that you will be fighting again later in the day, but for now, you should start warming up and entertaining the crowd. "Crowd" is a bit of a misnomer at the moment, but thus far, there's not much going on to draw one in this area.
"Sure. We are hired entertainers." Evalee's glad to have an out of the conversation.
Nathaniel thought the hobgoblin's statement over for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose you're right. That's a great thing about working for a place like this, though...everyone usually has baggage, whether it be physical or mental. Lots less prejudices...we're the social rejects of the world, after all." The young man chuckled, drinking the last of the ale.
"Well, Ashak, it's been a pleasure being cut up by you. Look forward to seeing what's in store tomorrow." He offered the acrobat a friendly wave before heading to the much seedier inn he was staying at...seedier meant cheaper, usually.
As the others (who aren't late) arrive, Nathaniel arrived with them, merging with them the short distance to the carnival. Well, merging kind of close, at any rate. He kept his distance from the imposing eidolon, wondering what kind of performance he and Evalee would be engaged in later.
The young man looked on with amusement as the young half-elf stumbled over herself to chastise the tiefling boy about the dangers of smoking. Well, at least she cared enough to try...there was something to that. People came and went from these places all the time, so one knew to grow friendly but not too attached. Usually, anyway.
As the small crowd milled about, looking bored and ready to leave before even the beginning of the show, Nathaniel pulled out three of his well-crafted daggers and began flipping them through the air, catching each by the hilt before sending them on their way again, dexterously keeping the weapons criss-crossing in front of him. After he had caught the attention of those nearby, he added a fourth weapon to the mix, occasionally tossing one much higher than the rest, working it back into the rotation with the others.
After a while he switched it up, using each hand to toss two daggers up, each hand keeping two daggers going straight up, then catching the descending weapon and flipping it up before its partner fell back down...somehow managing to keep the two blades from colliding. At the end, he tossed all four daggers into the air, some higher than others, than pulled out the fifth and flipped it at a nearby post, sending it quivering into the wood as he then caught the other weapons on the way down and sheathed them one after another. He bowed to the crowd, then went to retrieve his fifth dagger, feeling pretty pleased with the performance.
Erin arrives with the others and smiles at Evalee's rambling concerns, but her expression turns more serious, almost calculating, at the tiefling's mention of entertaining the crowd. She pauses, considering how best to make an impression. Slowly, her eyes turn upward as she examines what the carnival has to offer.
Ashak nods as Nathaniel leaves. "And you white cloak. Perhaps tomorrow we can cut someone up together." Ashak's attempt at a joke falls a bit short, with maybe just a tad to much enthusiasm at the idea of more bloodshed."[/b]
Ashak arrives just behind the others, after getting his instructions from the tiefling boy he quietly finds himself a wide area adjacent to the stand in which to warm up. He removes his heavy outer clothing and armor, leaving him in only loose grey pants. The majority of his upper body is covered with severe burn scars, leaving his grey-green skin distinctive, but a bit unpleasant to look at. '
He begins with simple stretches, then begins to move around a bit more, simple rolls and flips. He stops after a bit and runs some drills with his knives, leaping around and slashing at invisible foes. Once he is loosened up he hops up onto the stands. He runs up the steps, and then jumps backwards. Flipping around mid air he catches himself on his hands where he stops perfectly still for a moment, then launches himsef into the air and twists twice 360° on both axes. He lands on one leg and begins a more traditional, albeit slightly aggressive, dance. With lots of spinning and rolls, half-ballet half-acrobatics.
A small crowd has gathered to watch what they were assured would be "an authentic demon-summoning with requisite authentic demon."
The diminutive summoner draws a chalk pentagram on the ground while assuring the audience that no harm can come to them while yadda yadda, before summoning Semsephiel into it. (Instantly her credibility increases tenfold.)
"Mortal!" booms the four quadrimanus fiend ( ), "you dare to summon-" Semsephiel's face falls comically. "Oh no. You again. I swear, I'm going to track down whoever sold you that grimoire and . . . allright. What is it you want me to do this time? Song and dance routine? Slather bread with peanut butter?"
"Actually," quoth the diabolical diabolist, "I was thinking of taking audience suggestions."
Can you make him sing a song? one young man asks uncertainly, then continues with a bit more confidence. How about "The Tinker and the Farmer's Daughter"?.
No, make him eat cow pies! an overweight boy pipes up.
A young girl clutching a rag doll (who was at first afraid, but is emboldened by the suggestions from the others) then joins in,