"There's a Legion that never was listed"- The Lost Legion -Kipling

Game Master Ghost1776

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Rowan narrowly catches a newcomer enter the inn. So many travelers today. I wonder why this one is here.

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

But thinks nothing is strange about her manner. She seems nothing out of the ordinary to him.

Tassira looks up from her (now finished) bowl soup, taking notice of Rowan looking around again. She follows his gaze, and spies the new arrival.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
How could she have missed her? Such a radiant beauty... almost otherworldly.

And lonely, too. Tassira turns to the rest of her table, heedless of the books around her spot.

"Would you please excuse me for a moment?"

She stands and moves over to the newcomer's table.

"Um... hello. Is this seat taken?" She asks, pointing to a chair next to the new girl.

By the Open Hand, somebody was talking to her! Um... uh... wait, this was just a perfectly normal circumstance, right? After all, sitting down was what you did in a place like this, especially if you were hungry... which she wasn't, actually, having spent most of the day thus far outside. On the other hand, acting too nervous would just cause others to be concerned, right? It was far better to act relaxed and normal.

If only she knew what normal actually was. Well, there was always the usual fallback, right? Kariel put on her most charming smile. "No, not all. Please feel free to use it." she replied. It wasn't a problem if someone else used a chair, right? That probably wasn't going to violate some secret local code of ethics or anything and bring down an eternal blood feud against her and everyone she interacted with...

Boy, she REALLY needed to read a few culture books or something in the near future. How the heck did you even ask somebody to teach you all the nuances of their culture? That was something most people just grew up with, and she was trying very hard to avoid emulating the behaviors she'd already been exposed to.

Tassira gives the young woman her best smile in return.

"Why, thank you."

She sits down at the table in front of her.

"My name's Tassira, by the way. What's yours?" She asks. She neatly folds her hands on the table.

Trotting through the open door, the hound stopped just inside, snuffling at the air, ignoring all the assembled patrons, as they were not food...

*sniff*

*snuff*

*tongue loll*

...nope, not food.

At a piercing whistle from the street, the hound rushed back out like a scalded cat.

Or a summoned hound.

"...Kariel." the newcomer said after a few moments, not quite able to suppress a nervous twitch of her wings. It wasn't so bad when she could dominate a conversation, but it was a little late for that now, and despite everything, she wasn't very good in social situations. Oh, the last few decades were rife with examples of the charm she could bring to bear, but that was usually a one-sided sort of event.

She did eventually look at Tassira, though, and fairly intently at that - probably more than would have normally happened in social circumstances, but Kariel was trying to get a better sense of what Tassira was actually like.

Kariel is attempting to figure out whether or not Tassira is trustworthy.
Sense Motive (Hunch): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

"I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

It's the other way around, really... "N-no, not at all." Kariel said, relaxing a little bit. She still wasn't very good with people, but at the very least, Tassira didn't seem like the sort of people she was used to dealing with... which had to be a step forward of some kind. Kariel's growing wings folded against her back a moment later, metal covering feather like some sort of strange guard. Or birdcage. "It's just that, well, you're the only one who came over to talk to me..."

That is, Tassira was the only one who'd come over to talk to a nervous-looking young lady who was wearing an eyepatch, had one metal wing that behaved just like a natural feathered one, and an arm that wouldn't look out of place on a wooden construct. Oh, and the pink hair. There was essentially nothing about Kariel that was normal, and anybody who'd go out of their way to talk to somebody who might as well have been screaming for attention was... rather interesting, actually. Especially if everyone else was apparently trying to avoid looking at her. "Um, I d-don't suppose you know where I might find a church or something like that around here?" she asked hopefully.

Request: Simple Directions (-5 DC)
Diplomacy (Request): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16

Rowan has been watching. At first he just saw a traveler. Looking closer, he notices the strange arm and what he assumed to be a feathered cloak before, what appears to be wings. Suddenly very interested, he calls over to them.

"Tassira, why don't you ask your friend to join us. I'm sure we'd all like to study-err- talk to her!"

By the gods! Literally. A aasimar!

He clearly has no sense of subtlety

Tassira straightens up in her chair, looking Kariel over. She's clad in a faded green vest & undershirt, green leggings and brown, calf-length leather boots. Her black hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her arms are wrapped up to her elbows in green bandages.

Odd... wings (one being artificial), an eyepatch, and a prosthetic arm... did she do those herself?

Knowledge (Local): Well-Known Info on Local Churches: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
"There's only two churches that I know of here. Were you looking for a specific church?" She asks. "By the way, did you do those prosthetics yourself? They're really well done!" She adds, looking admiringly at Kariel's artificial bits. Her storm-grey eyes are practically shining as she does so.

She nods at Rowan. "Would you like to sit with us, Kariel?"
Taking 10 for Diplomacy: 10+9 = 19

"N-no. They were a... gift." Kariel mumbled, a little nervous about the topic. She was very happy about what they stood for, but she wasn't quite used to them yet. Also, being honest about what had happened might be even more trouble than leaving things as they were. She quietly lowered her bulkier arm in favor of keeping her flesh-and-blood one out instead. Besides, she was used to doing things with that arm. "I'm... um... searching for a church dedicated to Korada." There was nothing to be nervous about on this topic, right? Sure, she could pretend to be an all-knowing being from a higher plane, but that seemed wrong somehow. Besides, who was going to panic about someone asking after the Empyreal Lord of forgiveness? They'd probably just assume she was on some kind of divine mission or something... if she was acting more regal about it, anyway.

She was a little nervous about accepting Tassira's offer, but her good feeling from before remained, and she mutely shuffled her chair a bit closer.

Tassira gives Kariel a warm, apologetic smile and gets up from the table.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know if there is a church dedicated to... Korada, was it? At least, not on the Isle." She says as she leads Kariel to Rowan's table. "May I ask who Korada is?"

Of all the times to have fallen asleep during Religious Studies...

Knowledge Check: Know common mythology and tenets (DC 15)
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Kariel almost visibly brightened at the question. This, at least, was an area she was more familiar with. She cleared her throat a moment later and launched into the digest version for those who didn't know who the Empyreal Lord was. Korada, the Open Hand of Harmony, was one of the greater entities of the heavenly realms, and arguably one of the most respected, particularly since he avoided using lethal attacks even when walking straight into the homes of his enemies. His primary focus was on forgiveness, peace, and foresight, though the latter was uncommon at best. Korada accepted those who sought these to better themselves, and was of the opinion that no mortals were beyond redemption.

Admittedly, those who already tried to do good had very little need of his faith - but regardless of their personal beliefs, if they ever felt conflicted or simply wanted some inner peace, then Korada's church would welcome them. People could always try to do better, and the effort itself was worthwhile whether or not they succeeded.

...None of which really explained why an undeniably charismatic aasimar had such a personal interest in the matter. Still, this was easily the most that Kariel had talked since arriving, and apparently a subject she was more than comfortable on.

Kariel has shared basic information about the church of Korada with those in her immediate vicinity!

As you speak, Rowan gets up and moves around to examine you more closely, circling her.
"Korada...Korada...No I don't think there is a church to him in the area. But then again in the 6 years I have been here, I have not stepped into a single church" He says this distracted ly.
He touches one of her wings, the mechanical one.
Planes on common characteristics of aasimar: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
"Sorry, but I have never seen an aasimar up close before. Or at all really. Its rare to see one with wings, correct. And a halo no less! Quite remarkable! Your bloodline must be quite strong. Do you think I could take a sample? And these prosthetics! Are they removable? Could I study one? I promise I won't break it."

He says this rapidly, almost tripping over his words in excitement.

Tassira listens to Kariel on the nature of Korada. When Rowan starts bombarding the poor girl with questions, she promptly steps in.

"Rowan, for heaven's sake, give Kariel some room to breathe. She's likely not used to people paying so much attention to her. And you don't just touch anything of a girl's without permission." She says. She gives Rowan a pointed look that just screams 'Knock it off, you babbling fool.'

She does take a look at Kariel's prosthetics after chastising Rowan.

Knowledge (Engineering): Prosthetic Analysis: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19
"Yeah, this is Rowan. Knowledgeable about a lot of things, but apparently, proper social interactions aren't one of them." Tassira says to Kariel. She can hear the apology in her words. "He means well, he's just... excitable. You should hear him when he REALLY gets going."

Sorry, sorry. Its just so fascinating. I can hardly help myself. I mean, how often do you see an outsider up close? Especially such an impressive specimen.

He sits down, looking rather sheepish.

The blonde girl exchanges a look with her companion when the hound goes in, and she walks swiftly to the door to peek what's happening outside. If there's a magic hound there may be wizard hunters...

Not used to... oh, if only the other girl knew. Rather, what sort of person would expect that Kariel didn't draw attention? She was rather... conspicuous. "It's fine. I'm not offended." Kariel said softly. Truth be told, it was a little irritating, but... she'd just finished explaining how her deity was the lord of forgiveness, and she couldn't very well lose her temper over a matter this small. Even Korada himself would get angry at times, but never on a matter so unimportant, and she wanted to emulate her primary patron as best she could. "However, I-I'm sorry, but I can't let you have these. They're very important to me." she told Rowan.

Prosthetic Analysis:

The blonde girl exchanges a look with her companion when the hound goes in, and she walks swiftly to the door to peek what's happening outside. If there's a magic hound there may be wizard hunters...

The 'magic' hound was... drooling. Sitting, and drooling. Rather less sitting, despite the slight woman's repeated flat-hand gestures to it, and the positive examples of two other hounds of similar type. The magic hound would sit, work its legs anxiously, whine, and, once the woman turned her back, stand to its feet. At the faint growl of one of the other hounds, Magic whined after the woman a last time, and reluctantly sat.

The slight dark-robed woman strode away from the hounds toward Ikvvy and the tavern's door. Her broad hat hid much of her face, but her frustrated smile was clear. "Pardon", she requests, as she passes, and passes through the tavern door.

"Hard to tell," he says quietly to her, "Too many unknowns for my liking. This place is apparently safe, doesn't mean they aren't watching somehow. Best to avoid as much notice as possible." He keeps a watch on the room for anything that could happen and he sits up straight when they notice the hound. "What are you-" When she walks over to the door, his left hand reaches inside his cloak and stays there for now. When another woman walks through the doors he sits back again. She could be dangerous, a spellcaster, or an imperial agent, but it seemed like he and Ikvvy weren't the targets of this woman either way.

Marcos stands outside the Tavern for a little while, observing what he can through the windows. Seeing patrons talking, joking, and enjoying the food and drink, he heads on in.

Tall, powerfully muscled, and currently encased in green & brown painted breastplate, Marcos sets his heavy pack down with a sigh of relief. He ties his helmet off on the top and unbuckles his sword. Leaning the blade up against his leg and the bar, an astute observer would note he still has a clean line to draw it. Not to mention the wooden shield slung from his belt.

"Ale and some hot food, please. And some information on the island if you would. I'm new here, and would like to get the lay of the land as soon as possible."

Marcos sits with his back to the door, but keeps his eyes on the mirror behind the bar, scanning the room as he sips his drink.

Marcos might see, from his mirrored vantage, the robed woman's charred hand, though she draped the one long sleeve over the exposed hand as she laid coins on the bar, the sleeve covering the bartender's view, and the rest of the room behind her. Her coins laid out, she asks, "Hot food here, as well. And small meats? If you have such? My hounds sit outside; I do not need to feed them, but only to reward their patience. The youngest..." She shakes her head slowly, her hat still hiding her eyes, but her smile is gentle, under the brim. At her sides now, her long sleeves completely conceal her hands.

As she turns to look toward the door, her brim tilted to deny her eyes to observers, Marcos' mirror shows an eye to him. Purely white, whiter even than her hair, perhaps even faintly shining.

It was probably just as well that she'd finished explaining the tenets of Korada's faith, because she had the opportunity to look over at some of the others entering the area. It looked like... two humans, one of whom seemed worried about a fight breaking out, and- oh dear, an elf. Going among them had been an interesting few years, and truth be told, she didn't quite want to repeat the experience. After a few moments, though, Kariel turned her attention back to those closest to her as she shifted around and tried to get comfortable. "So, what churches do exist around here?" she asked Tassira.

Tassira looks over at Kariel again. "Well, off the top of my head, the Isle of the Great Library here hosts a church dedicated to Irori. Fitting, considering he's a god of knowledge." Tassira says, scratching her head. "The other one is more of a shrine, really, dedicated to Nethys. It hasn't been used since..."

She trails off. A faraway look creeps into her eyes.

The Cataclysm. Yet another sign of Nethys' displeasure.

"...since Professor Crispin passed away." She finishes. She looks at one of the books next to the pile at her table.

Mathematics, Magic, and the Ancients.

The faraway look remains.

"Hmm... none of those really sound right." Kariel muttered, tapping her fingers on the table. "If there's nothing around that fits, maybe I should try building one instead..." For a few moments, she seemed as distracted as Tassira had been, but came back to reality quickly enough. After all, she could deal with that a little bit later. Who knew what crazy notions an Aasimar might get into their head? Worse, who knew what might actually work? She may have been less than truly divine, but there was no doubt that Kariel was far more than human. It was literally in her blood.

The blonde woman watches the woman whose avatar shows the same character hers does, then takes a look outside watching the dogs, and turns back in. She eyes the place for a moment, looks at the elf and then approaches the dog's owner in the balcony, starting a conversation. "Nice dogs you got there! I haven't seen a person with so many at once. Are you a dog trainer?"

profession (cook): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Vigar had in the meantime managed to persuade the kitchen of his ability and had by now managed to bring a large pot of soup. Generous amounts of meat float on the heavy stew like soup as carrots, mushrooms, potatoes and onions bring about a heavenly aroma of Alger's Vale famous beef and onion stew modified by Vigar finding something called pepper.
The result? A piquant, mild spicy taste thay brings out the ingredients used.

Tassira's reverie is broken by Kariel's words.

"Oh, building one? Well, if you're looking for someone to help you, I *am* quite knowledgeable on engineering." She says with pride.

Aah, this must have been the blessing of Korada! Indeed, Kariel's halo almost shimmered into existence before she got her emotions under control again. This person probably had no idea of the kinds of ideas Kariel was having right now. Besides, she looked a bit... well... thin. Although enormous cathedrals needed designers as much as builders unless you got the plans straight from your deity or something. Wait, that still counted as having a designer, right? It just wasn't a mortal one if you could pull something like that off.

As a point of interest, Kariel had very little understanding of architecture. This was definitely something she'd need to have an expert for. "Thank you for the offer, but I believe I need to pray on this before I speak further. I don't want to get your hopes up if this won't be the right course after all." Still, giving the people something to believe in probably wouldn't hurt... and there was no shame in seeking guidance from one more knowledgeable than you were.

The blonde woman watches the woman whose avatar shows the same character hers does, then takes a look outside watching the dogs, and turns back in. She eyes the place for a moment, looks at the elf and then approaches the dog's owner in the balcony, starting a conversation. "Nice dogs you got there! I haven't seen a person with so many at once. Are you a dog trainer?"

"I ask myself that, often.", she smiles from under her hat, a broad smile, as bright at her unrevealed eye. "They're good hounds, and deserve better than me. At least, they have each other. There's some comfort to be found, there, for them. And oh, they're a comfort to me. Even if Russ gets excited, he's still a good dog." The tip of the hat sweeps towards the door, then back to Ikvvy. "I hope they don't trouble you?"

"Not at all. I'm just trying to learn a trick or two in training animals." She looks at the woman and the man on the balcony. "Nice to meet you, I'm Ikvvy. What brings you to the White Bear Inn?"

"A...", the woman clearly struggles for her next words, "...sense. It's near the college. Not that I'm a student, there. But I wouldn't mind, being. It's silly, though. I, ah... I'm a healer. I travel, to help the most. But, traveling is dangerous, and so, the dogs. I can help you, what... trick did you need? What sort of animal? It's not all the same...?"

"No idea. I believe teaching a wolf would not be the same as a dog, right?" She looks at the double doors, then back at the woman. "I usually don't worry too much about traveling, I guess I'm just silly. But if it is that dangerous to you, might be you are important! Where are you from?"

"I'm from Herzg, where the Goblin train their Wargs, so I can say yes, a wolf is different, but still, also the same. As for how important I am, I hope everyone is important enough to be welcome to what protection they need. And for how much protection I need... I'm odd." Arean raises her head, letting her glimmering eyes be seen under the brim of her hat. For a moment. "That inspires people, sometimes, one way, or another. The hounds, help to... temper that inspiration. Do you have a wolf to train? I have to warn you, they train you, as much as you, train them."

Ikvvy can't contain her surprise when she sees the blank eyes. It is in her voice when she speaks. "I wish I had a wolf. You have beautiful white eyes, I've never seen any like that! Is it magic?"

"Too many people think they can steal magic, people with it, control them, control it. They don't understand, it's a burden, a curse. So I haven't answered your question. I'm not sure any answer would do anyone any good. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Some things are just complicated, sorry to have asked. I was curious though, since I've got the impression you could see everything when you got to the balcony. Anyway, I can imagine why people would think like that. The empire is forcing everyone who have just a glimpse of magic to join them. Personally I believe that's just rumors, since I don't believe in magic."

Kariel stood up. That was a comment she couldn't pass by... but it was wrong to be upset at people, even if they had views that were different from your own. Most people had reasons for feeling the way they did, and you had to take that into account. As she moved, though, one of her wings knocked over a small knife... but instead of falling to the floor, it somehow shot sideways across the room and stabbed into the wall. She ignored the unnatural movement, though, focusing her full attention on Arean as she walked over. Kariel took a deep breath... then smiled.

"Excuse me, but would you mind elaborating a little more on why you think magic is such a terrible thing?" she asked Arean.

"Well, the empire is chasing something. What, I suppose, is a secret. But a secret, even to be a secret, has to be shared."

"I am Arean."

Summarizing, you have a feathered wing, a metal one, pink hair and a wooden arm?

None of which has any effect on gameplay! But yes, that's pretty much it. Kariel is rather... distinctive. It seemed like a good choice for an Aasimar, and it let me have fun with writing her backstory, so... ^^

Blondie smiles. "Nice to meet you Arean." She looks at the newcomer. "It's a wonderful costume you have there."

Kariel looked the other speaker up and down for a moment, noting (among other things) the expensive necklace that she was wearing. Quite a fashionable lady... and it was always sort of interesting when she had the chance to meet somebody like that. Instead of getting offended, though, Kariel simply smiled. "Thank you." she said as she twitched her wings a bit. Honestly, she didn't really like keeping them folded up, even if she couldn't fly using them quite yet... it was far more comfortable to let them spread wide but, well, she was sort of indoors at the moment, and it would have been very rude to just start smacking people in the face.

"Excuse me, but would you mind elaborating a little more on why you think magic is such a terrible thing?" she asked Arean.

"How many answers do you need? That the rumor of magic can find a person seized, with perhaps enough time to inform, or to warn, their family? That a claw undexters a hand, that fangs lisp a mouth, that any power is the hammer that makes the world seem full of nails?" Arean shows the newcome Kariel her white-lit eyes, in the process of taking in all Kariel's oddness, and then, seeming to come to a decision, Arean raises a hand, letting her robe sleeve fall away. The blackened hand is revealed, and in the moment it is held motionless, it seems a dead thing, a prop to be held further up the sleeve, a beggar's trick... until it moves, the char cracking at the flexed joints, faint embers glimmering from within, visible in the indoored relative darkness of the tavern. "The other is the same. They are as painful as they seem.", Arean allows. "Magic", she judges aloud, "...is a Curse."

Under normal circumstances, Rowan would be right up there with Kariel, defending magic as a gift, a glorious power to be used, not a curse.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
but Rowan sees the dagger fly into the wall. Only magic can make physics bend like that.

You've made enough a fool of yourself for one day Rowan. Lets just see how this plays out. There is something magical about the woman with the blackened hand and Kariel. Hopefully this will reveal precisely what magic they have.

He whips out a notebook and starts writing the details of each, but tries to hide it.

Stealth: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Kariel gently reached out and gripped Arean's blackened arm with her own artificial one - a large thing that seemed entirely inappropriate in size for her, as if she should have been several feet taller in order to properly match up. "Those things are the problems of mortals." she said softly. "Not a problem with magic itself. Nations are afraid of losing their power and being overrun, families are afraid of being separated, and individuals are afraid of the unknown. Magic may be the subject at the moment, but it is fear that is truly the problem. If the nation had no money, those with jewels would be dragged in. If the nation had no food, those with scraps would be losing them. It is nothing but fear." She put her other hand on top of Arean's, flesh and blood softly touching Arean's charred and blackened skin. "Don't you think it's better to try and solve the problem instead of blaming the effects for existing?"

Perception+5: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

"That hurts when you touch it.", Arean says, managing the pain, the effort clear.

"I don't need a lesson on fear, or on making a difference. I work to do that. I was explaining why I would not answer on magic. Of course, now I have, and more."

Kariel promptly let go of Arean's hand - though if it had hurt even with such a gentle touch, it must have been sensitive indeed. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me." Kariel said. Still, Arean seemed... bitter? Upset? It was something, anyway, even if Kariel wasn't entirely certain what. More relevantly, though, Kariel wanted to help her - and everybody else in this world. The teachings of Korada were right. People who were too worried found it hard to focus on the things that truly mattered, like a vivid sight before their eyes making them miss something far in the distance.

Maybe building a church was the right plan.

This is a freak show! Thinking about it, there is no character messier than oracles regarding magic presence...

"Some puzzles can never be solved" - Ikvvy intervenes, trying not to let the situation get out of control. "Let's not get harsh here people. Magical or not, you're in a free place, clearly out of threat from the demanding empire."

I imagine the other patrons and the employees are kind of freaking out at this point. A lot of heavy handed, clearly magical drama in the middle of a inn. Even here, this would be strange and probably unwelcome, considering the possibly destructive nature of your magics.