Going away for the weekend. Back on Monday!
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Alain smirks. "Yes, my flask has been empty for too long." he says. "To Arbroath, comrades!" Alain begins to set off briskly. Then turns around and asks, "Which way?" with a grin.
"Witches are a secretive lot, it seems, and they don't work together. From what I've heard they tend to compete over the best ingredients for their... recipes." he says with some distaste. "It is terrifying to think that they might cooperate on something. If the plague of Witchcraft continues after we have rooted out these two..." Alain pauses. Purses his lips and glances at the others looking for someone to add something. "Well. Maybe it's just paranoia, but from talking to the locals, they think the reports of Witchcraft are increasing. Nothing is confirmed, however. Just rumours."
Uneasy, but trying to be positive, the sudden change in weather prompts Alain to be more chipper. "Yes, a tour of the countryside, searching for witches sounds just delightful." he says. "And even the weather is more to my liking."
"Ah, allow me." Alain says as he moves to the front of the group. "Does anyone have a rope?" he asks.
Alain looks over the corpse of the slain woman and then the body of the captured one, trying to discern if they had any clues as to their connections to any larger conspiracy. He then checks the cavern for anything else hidden.
Are we doing average hit points at each level?
Alain ducks out of sight in the mist and dimness at the entrance to the chamber, nocking an arrow to the string of his Longbow.
Alain wades through the water unhappily, and once inside the cave, draws his longsword. His keen eyes hampered by the mist, he nevertheless strains to see or hear anything ahead of them, paying attention to the floor and ceiling.
Alain stands at the back of the group, looking out into the dark, mist-shrouded woods rather miserably. He has his longbow back, which he thanked Kirsteen for returning to him, but now as they investigate the burrow, he is nervously scanning the trees for danger. "Perhaps we best not climb down into an unknown hole if we cannot get back out again." he mutters.
Moving out of the way and back towards Kirsteen, he drops his longbow and draws a longsword, brandishing it while standing in front of the girl as though shielding her. "The beast weakens!" he calls out. "Finish it, friends!"
Alain rises when needed, but is less than companionable most of the morning. He speaks little, and only then to complain about the cold and the lack of something to warm the blood. The woods seem to take even more out of him, and his complaining comes to an abrupt halt once they are beneath the boughs of the trees. When the sounds of the boar reach him, his eyes become bright as he prepares his longbow, nocking an arrow to the string. He looks around to the sides and rear of the group as well, not trusting the sounds in the forest. He seems jumpy and nervous in these cold, wet woods.
"I heard the servants talking about that uncanny ability..." he whispers, grimacing.
After hearing the contents of this new letter,"Ah, yes. Well, as I mentioned before, the messenger told me he received the letter he gave us from a certain Robert of Winchester. Mayhap he is the occultist mail-tamperer, but I will trust our own investigations before I will put any more faith in that letter or this new one we have discovered in a possibly enchanted castle." Alain says, then thinks for a moment.
He looks to the newly arrived Razo. "Razo, my friend, you seem to be the most versed rooting out supernatural menaces. What are we dealing with here?"
Stopping in one vaulted cellar, Alain stands with his flask in his hand. He looks in one direction. "Hmm..." He turns forty-five degrees. "Hmm..." Turns again. "Yes, I see... Another turn. "Ah..." Returning to his original orientation, he says "Well, it's settled then. I'm in hell. And not just the 'I'm in Scotland' type of hell." He makes his way back upstairs and in the kitchens he walks over to Guy and Kirsteen. In a whisper he says "Something is terribly wrong here... This is Scotland and there isn't a drop of liquor in the place."
"Yes, I agree. Let's deal with these Witches first." Alain says. I'm not sure which is worse... After a moment he realizes he still has his flask in his hand. He downs the last sip. "And I was going to go find the cellar for a refill." he says. "Or maybe a whole bottle." he adds.
Jen:
"And what is the name of the minister who gave you the letter?" he asks. Alain bids good rest to the messenger and returns to his companions. "Well, the messenger did not receive the letter from the King himself, but from a minister, which he, the messenger, did not feel was very unusual. But I do wonder. And what have you all decided?"
The change in orders does seem rather abrupt and arbitrary. However, that is the prerogative of kings... It does make sense that he wants French help against the Norse, but the French ambassador was already there. Then there's the removal of the Thaim of Glamis which may or may not have been a ruse, and then this message, which may or may not be authentic.
Jen: "Oh, my, is this your room? I am sorry. I will go find the correct room." he says with a smile. Alain looks around for a few seconds.
"Though I must ask, did you come straight from the King? Or did one of his ministers give you this message to deliver? Did anything happen just before you left that might make him change our orders so suddenly?"
Alain's face becomes slightly red at the reading of the letter. "Back to France? Ha... Aha... Well... Yes... I need a drink..." he sputters, taking out his flask and taking a long pull. When he finishes, his cheeks are still flushed. "Yes, this does seem somewhat odd, but His Majesty did mention something about having a task for me. It makes sense that he would want me out of his palace where English spies might catch wind of his plans for us. But then again, I saw the French ambassador there..." Alain frowns. If only I had made a study of documents as my father had wanted... Ha! Listen to me... He holds up the letter for scrutiny.
"I need to refill this flask, and perhaps go see if our messenger is all he seems." he says. He puts the letter down and walks off in the direction the messenger departed.
Hurrying inside the castle, an unpleasant and unfamiliar chill running up his spine, Alain seems little relieved to be out of the mist, considering his surroundings. "Charmant." he mutters. He eyes the interior carefully. "Please forgive our rudeness," he says politely as he steps up next to Razo. "I am Alain Lenoir of Normandy, and these comrades are Razo of Worms, Malhasturian MacBrayne, Drest MacAlpin, Guy de Lancre and the Mademoiselle is Kirsteen. And who are you?"
Alain, alarmed, drops out off the back of his steed and, hiding behind his mount, fumbles for his new longbow. Aah! Halt? What Razo said!
"Ah, well, if we must take the slow road, then we must. I don't suppose His Majesty will give us horses or a carriage to make the road less wearisome?" Alain says with some disappointment.
Alain puts a hand on Guy's, producing a flask with his other hand, offering it to him. "A drink of the bone-warming Scottish whiskey, my friend?" he says. "If we are to be traveling in this land, it will serve to fortify you!" he adds with a laugh. "Very well, we will arm ourselves! I also suggest a visit to the chapel to arm ourselves spiritually." he says. "As Razo can surely attest, faith can only help our chances!"
Looking taken aback by Drest's offense at Razo's words, he tries to put a hand on the Druid's shoulder placatingly. He nods at Razo's explanation of his meaning. "See, we are all friends here. Or at least working towards the same goal - combating the influence of these... people, whoever or whatever they may be otherwise, who wish harm upon the people of Scotland and her Liege Lord. This is a cause we can all agree is worth unity and cooperation, yes?"
Moving aside with the others, he greets them affably. "Well, Drest MacAlpin. You are to be our guide in this endeavour? I trust your knowledge of these parts will prove most useful! And you sir, Malhasturian, son of Dersten, of the Clan McBrayne, you seem to have a strong arm and a singular forcefulness. Razo! Good to have an expert on witchery with us. Your education shall be a most potent weapon! And Guy, I am sure you will be a most steadfast and capable companion." Alain grins and looks around at the men. "I feel good about our association! We must toast to the success of our mission!"
Alain bows once more, Your Majesty is wise. he says. I am pleased to render any and all assistance that I can. I will do everything in my power to ensure the success of our task.
As the attention shifts to each of them in turn, Alain bows deeply with a flourish, and with a smile, addresses the King. "Your Majesty, I am Alain Lenoir of Normandy. I have come bringing greetings and best wishes in this auspicious time of your lifting to Just Rulership over this land. I am here now to offer what aid and support I can to your Court."
Alain gathers up the evidence, first eyeing the daggers for any evidence of poison on their blades and follows the guards.
Perception, DC of above roll.:
Alain slips one of the daggers into a pocket Once in the presence of the King he bows deepfully and respectfully, and after Razo speaks, steps forward with a smile. "Your Majesty, I discovered these objects on the culprit." he says, producing a dagger, vial, and envelope with seal and the money within. Looking furtively to see if the Thaim of Glamis reacts at all as he hands the items to whoever moves to receive them.
"Oh, this is interesting." he mutters to himself, recognizing the seal. He turns the parchment over in his hands.
Alain looks in disappointment for the dog which took the lurker down, so instead crumples the letter artfully and tries to puncture it strategically to look like it got bitten by the dog in the struggle, breaking the seal. He then opens it up and gives it a quick read. "I expect, my dear, the commotion has scared off any more would-be assailants this night. Someone ought to keep an eye on our friend Razo there lest he be mistaken for another assassin." he says to the others as he peruses the document.
Alain is preparing for bed, having stayed up a bit, when he hears movement in the hall outside his room. He makes his way to the door, something making him curious. When he peers out into the darkened corridor and spies the out of place man, he pulls the door quickly closed and fumbles for his dagger. By the time he is back at the door, the situation has erupted into all-out bedlam. He skids out into the hall, dagger at the ready, only to see the man go down. Alain watches the guards haul him away, trying to get a look at his face and clothing.
When the items fall to the floor, Alain scoops up the parchment and looks it over.
Alain is pleased to have a room inside a castle all to himself. The King's dismissiveness of the afternoon didn't really bother him that much. He expected that. He seems more relaxed at dinner and makes an effort to chat up all those around him, making subtle inquiries about the current situation at every opportunity.
My father's castle is bigger than this... Alain muses, containing his disappointment. Is this what I am reduced to? Each place smaller and shabbier than the last. I will die in a ditch at this rate... Alain steps forward, his cloak swept back to show off his finery and jewelry. I am Alain Lenoir, of Normandy. Like my countryman Guy, I am here to bring greetings and well-wishes from our homeland and offer our friendship. I beg leave to ask if we may be of any service to His Highness.
In terms of how religion is handled, I am making the assumption that each of the Golarion deities is an aspect of a greater deity. Calling on Calistria as Alain is not a matter of heresy or paganism in our "Earth", right? Is there more to be defined in this respect - religion? Like not all the Pathfinder deities are on the 'good' side, like Lamashtu, Rovagug, etc. Are these considered the adversary deities? There has been some reference to 'pagans' and 'heretics'. In real-world terms this means one thing, but what about in the world of the campaign? I may suggest that a certain number of the standard Golarion deities are part of the 'church'. Erastil, Abadar, Cayden, Calistria, Desna, Gorum, Gozreh, Iomedae, Irori, Nethys, Pharasma, Sarenrae, Shelyn, Torag... essentially any of the non-evil ones. If you want you can call them aspects or faces or something else, or even Saints to fit into the Medieval milieu. Some followers may believe that 'their' aspect is the 'right' one if you want to try and replicate the religious schisms that exist in our own world. The evil deities are then 'adversary' aspects that oppose good people. Asmodeus, Lamashtu, Norgorber, Rovagug, Urgathoa, Zon-Kuthon, etc. The other option is to throw away the Pathfinder deities altogether, and simply go with a more historically-based approach with 'God' and the 'Devil'... but that steps into thorny territory, as any of our 'Druid' players may object to that and it comes a bit too close to real-world religious reality for my comfort. Thoughts?
Alain dreams. A petite blonde girl. No, more than a girl. He remembers the smell of her hair, her laughter, the rustling of her dress, her fingers, her blue eyes. He dreams of going home. He dreams of fighting for her. He wakes. Someone is crying out in their sleep. Alain feels a deep heaviness in his heart, and rises from where he slept as silent as a shadow. He walks towards the chapel, pausing to look down at Kirsteen for a moment. In the chapel, he kneels to pray. Calistria, of the Yellow Veil. Keep me safe from those who would take me back. Give me the wit and the foresight to stay ahead of them. He kisses his thumb and brushes it against his forehead, making the triangle sign of Calistria before standing and returning to the bed of straw. He sleeps only fitfully after that.
Sitting across from Mal at one of the long tables, he smiles. It is no 'assle, as you say. I merely come seeking my fortune in a foreign land. A new King may have need of friends in Normandy, and for another arm, and another pair of eyes. Alain also looks around at the newcomers. He gives Kirsteen rather a longer look than the others, and a slight smile and nod.
Alain smiles at Mal, I am coming to bring greetings and well wishes to the new King of Scotland from my people in Normandy. My father is an influential Castellan there. As a third son, however, my prospects for advancement at home are slight, so I travel abroad! he says. A brief shadow of suspicion passes over his features when he sees a fellow Frenchman come in - a noble-seeming one at that. Did my father send you? It passes behind a facade of openness and good cheer, however, and he smiles and waves back at the man. His gaze passes over the other new arrivals, seeming to take little note of them. He fishes a flask out of a pocket in his cloak and takes a swift nip.
Seeing that the Prior is little impressed by his show of authority, Alain relaxes slightly. He is relieved to be within the walls of the Monastery. Listening in to the exchange between the Prior and the red-haired Scot, he interjects a comment while tearing at the bread in his hand. I 'ave 'eard of zees Witches. I do not fancy ze thought of being out in your charming wilderness when night falls. Tell me, what do you know of ze new King? And is he in danger from zis evil zat claimed his predecessors? he asks, putting a morsel in his mouth and working at it with his teeth.
"Stand out of ze way, let your betters through!" Calls out a man in a haughty and commanding voice. Pushing his way forward towards the front door, he steps into view. He wears a practical travelling cloak like many, but beneath you can see a rich-looking woolen tunic in blue with a linen undershirt. A brooch of silver and featuring several blue semi-precious stones holds the cloak in place. A longsword and dagger hang at his waist on a leather belt with a silver buckle. On his finger is a signet ring of gold. His hair is black and held back in a ponytail. His features are fine, ears pointed. Sharp blue eyes gaze out at the rabble. He wears a finely groomed goatee. "I am Alain Lenoir, traveling from the lands of the Duke of Normandy. I need accomodation for the night as I am traveling to the court of the new king." he declares in as calm and commanding a tone as he is able.
Sense Motive DC of above roll: Alain is slightly more hysterical at the prospect of being stuck out here alone than is is trying to let on.
Made the note on my profile. Also, feel free to place Alain where you want him, in either group. I'll just modify the background to refelect him ending up in England or Scotland. What of racial ages? Do you want Elves and Dwarves and such to actually be 119 years old, or will we just all be aging in human terms?
Capricornus presenting Alain Lenoir, Elven Rake Rogue. Info (some in progress) in profile. Using his natural charm, he is trying to talk his way into becoming useful to the new King by virtue of his (not inconsiderable) knowledge of noble politics. He is a Face-Type with a good Diplomacy and Bluff, and Knowledge: Nobility. He may take levels in Fighter too. I see we have a lot of Face type characters and at least one other Rogue represented, so I may switch to something else if necessary. I have an alternate version of Alain who is a Cad Fighter, and if inspiration strikes I always enjoy Wizards and have wanted to try an Alchemist too. |