Anevia Tirablade's page

Anevia turns begrudgingly to answer Grasker. "He was better than he would let others know. I... I was asked to do some research once. He was loyal to his god, and his word was his bond, though it was as tight a bond as it was possible to keep." She nods, considering the man upon the table.

"We will send people back, or possibly come back ourselves if need be. But we cannot leave any of the things from the safe here. I suppose, technically, you did get him home, and he did promise to reward you. If we turn in the deeds and such, I suspect he would be happy enough to see you have most of the gold, and his shrine to Abadar turned over to the church, if there still is one. "

Anevia startles, then smiles gratefully at Ely, "Thank you. I just hope this is the last time it comes up."

Anevia hesitates before adding, "I think we should go to Horgus' as well. He had no family, but his servants may need our help." an unspoken but obvious, if the live. hangs in the air.

"Truly I...I hope you enjoy them." Anevia says her own quiet blessing over the slender piece of cheese and mushroom she eats. She does not weigh in on the subject of where to go next.

sense motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
bluff to hide how hurt she is by Grasker's mistrust after all this time: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

"People are looking for you? It sounds not in a good way, I guess. Anven sounds like a nice name, but so does Anevia. But I liked it when Jurin called me Beagle the Elf, so maybe I'm not the best judge of names."

"Thank you, Beagan. You're very kind. Still, it would be best if all of you forgot you ever heard it. I left it behind long ago and no one using it is likely to be wishing me well. It's not nearly so nice as Beagle the Elf, Either." Between the two of them, they are able to get the corpse outside, and Beagan's prestidigitation cleaned the floor up nicely.

"Cole? What do you think? You were kind enough to come to my home first. Your house first, or Defender's Heart?"

Anevia stops where she is, sighing. It's a moment or more as she debates something, before she reaches out and pulls the door closed, the dead body still at her feet.

"Anven. He called me Anven. I don't use it anymore. I haven't for a good long while. That he knows it, though, is worrisome. I haven't used that name since I was growing up in Nidal." Her answers come slowly.

"At the very least, it means someone is still looking for me, or at least for him, for Anven." Her chin comes up stubbornly, daring them to say anything.

"Now, can one of you help me get him out of here before he stains my floor?"

Anevia stares grimly at the dead half orc.

"He didn't know me. He knew Irabeth. He was a cultist of Xoveron(know planes/religion) she apprehended while she was working in the River Kingdoms." Her mouth twists as she grabs him up by the feet, intent on hobbling her way out of the house with him. For more on Vagorg, knowledge local

"She told me he was planning to burn down a whole neighborhood when she caught him. *oof!* In Timon, that means the gladiatorial pits."

Serra follows Anevia as she checks the house. She opens a small, secret niche in the bedroom. Her hand trembles, but she smiles, visibly relaxing as she reads it.

"It's from Irabeth. She's ok. She's OK!" She yells into the other room. She gathers the other things left in the nitch and returns to the front room (I assume you don't all follow her all over the house.).

"She says those that are left are gathering at Defender's Heart, and says the passphrase silverstrong will let us in." Her smile falters, as she realizes that you have done what you have said you would do; you have seen her home.

"I mean... Thank you so much for getting me this far. Irabeth left these to help me get to Defender's Heart, but I would prefer that you have them. I am not so fragile as all that. It is not very far. Still, if you would join me, we could all make it that much safer." In her hands,she holds 4 carefully labeled vials; two of invisibility and two of cure moderate wounds.

She looks at Cole and smiles, "After we check on your family, of course."

Anevia -still breathing heavily- kicks the dead orc in the head.

"You'll never touch her!" She turns on her heel and begins searching the house, looking for her wife.

"Irabeth! IRaBETH!"

Alas, there is no answer, and no immediate sign of her.

Ely also swings at the man, but misses his target as well.

Round 5, Init 8

Anevia tries to take advantage of Serra and Ely's distracting, if ineffectual attacks to press her own, but she too has been cursed with whatever has affected this group. Sheesh! Would someone kill him, already?!?!

short sword plus sneak attack: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 3 + 2 = 141d6 + 1 + 2d6 ⇒ (5) + 1 + (6, 6) = 18

Round 2, Init 8

"Where is he, Serra?! I can't see him! Irabeth? IRABETH?!?!" Anevia calls for her wife and readies to attack the intruder once they become visible and within reach.

Cole and Beagan are up

"Irabeth?! Are you here?" Anevia bursts into the house, so intent is she on reaching her wife.

Serra Iondri Phaer: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Elyanius Myoch: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (11) + 0 = 11
Grasker: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (10) + 0 = 10
Anevia: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Cole Zeff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Beagan Berelcar: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
v: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Surprise round, Grasker and Cole only.

"It still stands!" Anevia turns to her companions, a true smile on her face. "I would never have made it without all of you. Thank you for seeing me home."

The modest home sits in a small yard. The door is closed, and it looks as if, like Horgus' manor, it was spared the worst of the destruction.

"Come in! I'll introduce you to Irabeth if she is home, and we can get an update on things."

He looks at Avenia, ”If you’re desperate to check on your spouse we can visit your house first. But then we go to mine.”

"I... I know we have taken so long already it shouldn't matter." Anevia agrees, though her face belies her desire to see her wife one more. She settles near the door and makes small talk with Darlyn, one of the librarians.

Anevia cradles Horgus' head wrapped in a bit of clothing. "I... I'm afraid I'm turned around." She sighs, trying to make heads or tails out of the new skyline of Kenabres. "Oh my! Is this the southern gate?!?" Her jaw sets firm; she will *not* cry.

"We are not nearly as close as I believed."

Anevia holds up a finger to her mouth, cautioning quiet, but it is too late, the creatures, close enough now that most of the party can see their resemblance to vultures, though they are far larger than most, drop to just 20 feet above the group.

Anevia looks torn, but the glaives are laying there, beside the bodies, and Irabeth is far away. "No, I don't think so, Cole. Aravashnyel is right; proper Iomedaen Crusaders carry longswords. Irabeth uses a long sword, and is quite devoted to it, as a symbol of her goddess."

Anevia's face twists with a mixture of disgust and fear. "I would say this was just another of Aravashnyel's conspiracy theories, were the proof not laying at our feet. We must hurry to get word of this back to Irabeth, and the others. They are in grave danger!"

"Of course, Sir Beagan." She readies her bow, keeping watch even more intently than before..

Buoyed by the support of the others, Anevia nods and shoulders his pack more firmly. "Let's go. Someone said there was a tunnel out of here?"

As everyone gathers up their gear, some move more quickly than others. Anevia seems to dawdle the longest, lost in thought watching the beautiful butterfly flame.

"Gorgeous, isn't it? How could anyone turn their back on their god? Especially one supposedly dedicated to them?" her arms wrap round herself, as if holding herself together through these trying times. "Irabeth would sooner die than do so. Would fight to the d-d-death than do so." Her voice catches as she thinks of her beloved wife waiting, hopefully.... waiting, above.

Anevia helps Aravashnyel into the temple. Her face falls as she sees the current condition. She tries to speak but her voice catches and she limps out to the antechamber, sitting heavily onto the bench with her head in her hands.

"Not back here! Ahead. I thought I heard something up ahead."

"He's under control, Aravashnyel, don't worry. We must try to get him to the authorities, either to help him, or to pass judgment. Irabeth will know what to do." Anevia sighs softly, thinking once again on her wife and her likely well being.

"Aravashnyel and I are helping each other out. We're fine, and better that you keep things moving up front." Her smile, faint though it is, seems real enough.

"If you have him, we should try to aim for that building you mentioned. But... perhaps Sir Serra could scout out the building before we commit to it."

Cole Zeff wrote:

"I can do it if you like - but someone should watch the non-combatants back there."

Serra looks at the hammer, then again at his charge (the Elf), and politely declines the hammer.

"Thank you, Cole, but the Elf is my charge for now. I'd thank you kindly to do that so I might lead those need my help."
amount of worry for an innocent not yet accounted for in his voice.

Anevia steps up, placing a hand on Aravashnyel's shoulder. "I can help Aravashnyel, Sir Serra. That will free you up to take care of the symbol." she smiles warmly, happy to do what she can to help the group move forward.

As Sir Serra rushes to the back, Anevia's face brightens and she catches him by the sleeve.

"Oh Good, you've come! I heard a cry of bugs?!" She nods, as if seeing an answer there on his face. "Here, take these alchemicals! They should help with the fight against the swarming vermin."

The young woman digs in her pack, pulling out two vials of liquid, tightly closed. Two alchemist fires

Begin Round 5

"Anevia, your leg alright? Avashnyel, would you hear more, or is that sufficient?" Eli looks back down the natural corridor, hoping that there are no sudden rear flanks to defend.

"I'm ok. I have my bow. Some alchemicals, if we really need them."

Eli escorts Anevia as she allows. "Are you joining the ranks, young lady? Or are you local-born? Do you have anyone above who will be missing you?"

"Neither...that is, I wasn't born here, but I've been here for awhile now." She looks up at the many feet of stone above them, sighing softly. "My wife is probably very worried. I hope she is worried." The alternative is unthinkable.

"Oh, Anevia! Are you sure your leg can bare weight? I don't think I completely set it correctly. Do you require further healing?" Eli stands his ground, listening intently on both sides.

"I... I can put weight on it, but I'll be slow."

"That can't be good! I'll come help you!" Anevia offers as she tries to stand. Though able to put weight on it, it is still a painful hobble over to help battle the maggots.

"Anevia? I'm closer now. My name is Eli. Are you hurt, Anevia?" Eli starts to 'look' for the woman.

"I'm... I don't think my leg is right. I can't stand on it." Embarrassed, the young woman's voice trembles on the end, then catches as she sees Eli's approach. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I did try to come to you but..." Taking his hand, she guides him closer.

"Well, now. I'm just gaining myself. Be patient. I can't recognize your voice. Do I know you? What is your name? Perhaps, if you talk to me, while I gain myself here, I can follow the sound of your voice, and we can meet each other properly." Eli dusts his hands off, and grabs the lucerne hammer tightly, as he uses it to poke and prod his way in the direction of the voice. He tries to take in the masonry as his first obstacle, and seeks to find a way around it. "Keep talking now. I should be there shortly." Eli taps the hammer's end with metronome precision, slowly, listening to the echoes, and giving enough time between taps to hear responses, or scuffles of movement.

"I... I don't recognize your voice." she tries again, this time her gasp becomes a scream. "I'm S-s-sorry. Yes. I'll keep talking. What's your name? I'm Anevia."