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Gah, I'm going to be internetless for an indefinite amount of time coming up, and I don't want to drag things down by not being finished in time to meet up with the rest of the party, so think it's best if I duck out. Sorry everyone, and good luck moving forward.
GM: "Now, you live up to your end of the bargain," she says, brandishing the club, which is when she realizes that it is more likely to knock him out than it is to kill him. Mercy wasn't what she had in mind, but she needed her claws for more pressing matters, and she supposed if he survived, she could live with that fact. "I suggest a death with honour, on your knees. Quick, painless, and fulfilling our deal with grace and acceptance of your fate. You would die an honest man that way, deserving of your goddess's embrace." She gained no great joy from the act of killing somebody under these circumstances, and wanted only to make the process as swift as she could for the sake of expedience.
GM: Keeping her distance, Ariana avoids getting too close to the dogs, ushering the man toward them, knowing they would have responded better to him than to her, and the less noise she could have possibly made, the better. Her impromptu lie worked once, but there was no promise she could convince the entire barracks of that. "Go on," she said sternly.
GM and Moriarti: Ariana breathes a sigh of relief as he closes the shutter and believes her lie. "Oh gosh, thanks so much sir! Mitra's blessing be upon you." She smiles and waves him off, letting him get a bit further down before turning back to the man and nodded. "Back to our plan," she says coldly, the fake voice thrown aside. "Move.
GM: Ariana winces a little, recoiling as the bright line beams into her face, a little blinding after so long spent with only faint indoor lighting. She hisses hurriedly below her breath, "Play along, or I will make sure that with my dying breath that you regret it." Her mind races for the first lie she can tell, quickly spinning the best she can come up with under the unfortunate circumstances.
Speaking more loudly, she addresses the guard, putting on a gentler voice than her normal tone. "Gosh Herren, I told ya this would happen! I'm so sorry sir; my name is Tiala, and I'm a veterinarian. Herren noticed the dogs weren't looking very healthy, but he didn't want to worry you all or risk you thinking it was something he was feeding 'em, so he asked me to come in and check up on them in the night so nobody would have to worry!"
GM: "Thank you kindly," she says, picking as much belladonna as she can and stowing it away; while there seemed little immediate use for poison, it was wise to hold onto whatever resources she could get a hold of on her way out. They may need it down the line. "Now, it's time to feed the dogs." Positioning herself once more behind him, club still in hand, she prodded him in the back to begin walking toward the kennel, not sure it was but mostly trying to restate her position of control.
GM: As she follows behind the guard, she keeps her leather club drawn, incentivizing his cooperation until the task was through. As she first stepped outside, the smell of seawater struck her, fresh air filling her lungs and giving her new life. "That is precisely what I needed," she said to herself, before moving swiftly toward the man and catching up. "I know you have little reason to trust me, but I honour my deals. If you cooperate, you buy the woman's life. If you betray me or attempt to call for help, then you dishonour our deal. Just bear that in mind."
She moves toward the poison, pretending to inspect it despite knowing very little about poisons, save for the fact it would be unwise to use her bare hands to apply it to the meat. "Rub it into the beef," she orders, eyes shifting about to try and spot any lights or hear the sounds of patrol.
Ariana looks to the man willing to offer both his life and his service to save the crying woman's life. Hardly in any position to mock given the rags she wars, and in fact rather hoping to ensure cooperation as much as possible, she nods. "Very well," she says, shoving the woman into the supply closet once they've raided it of everything they need. "Grumblejack, could you please break the doorknob so that she can't escape?" Striding back to the man, she cracks her knuckles. "How kind of you," she says, absolutely matter-of-factly; there is no respect or admiration in her voice. "Bring whatever the dogs are fed with, then lead me to the poison; we will mix it on the way to the kennel."
"Wait, don't do it yet," she says hurriedly to the ogre. "One of you is going to buy your lives back by aiding us by poisoning the dogs." Turning toward the others, she waves a hand. "I will catch up; between the six of you, there is little doubt you will be able to handle yourselves, and we will be much better off with no dogs to sniff out our trails. Unless you would like to be the one to escort them, Alicia, given your antsiness." Facing toward the cooks again, she folds her hands and waits for a volunteer.
"From this adventure we determined how best to proceed; that is the very essence of a sucessful plan. We also now have someone the dogs will trust; shall we poison them after all? I'd hate for us to decide who has the enviable position of stabbing attack dogs through a cage. After all, if it's weakening an ogre, I can't imagine a mere dog will be able to stay awake, let alone alive." Moving to examine the food, she smiles, reaching in and taking one to snack on as well, in desperate and mighty need of some food to help regain a measure of her strength. "You," she says, pointing to one of the servants, "Put all of this food into bags for us, please. Our overseas journey will be long, and I will not go hungry."
Arian fells out the dagger momentarily, moving with the measured grace of someone who has little actual idea what she's testing. "What if we poisoned the dogs?" she offered, admittedly joining halfway into the conversation, but confident enough to share her idea. [b]"If there is poison on the grounds, we could have somebody dressed a guard, or perhaps one of these wonderful helpers who would most surely like to endear themselves to us for the sake of their survival, feed it to the dogs with their food. No trackers to sniff out our trail come the dawn, but no noise made trying to kill them one by one."
With her hopeful excuse dashed, Ariana peers down the chimney, knowing full well she won't be able to handle any pairs of guards herself. "Me, I guess," she groans, shutting her eyes tight as she slides down, grunting and groaning the whole time as falls into the ashes, grumbling and emerging downstairs in the kitchen, holding firmly onto her club as she takes a moment to soak in the situation before realizing the others had the situation well in hand. Lowering the weapon, she sighed and began to try and shake the ashes off of her clothes.
Peering down the grate, Ariana questions if she really wants to slip down a sooty chimney. Even in trying to escape her death penalty, she's prissy and demanding, unsure if she wants to sully herself any further like that. "Do you think you can make it down there, friend? Or would you like somebody to help you to the ground floor on foot?"
"I'm not a particularly good scout, and if I get caught it wouldn't end well. I can certainly pull up the real with Grumblejack, however. I can remove a few more horns in case our hulking friend makes too much noise. It would also allow us to work through as many guards on our way out as possible."
Ariana looks around the room, which for all the chaos that's gone on in it is fairly well kept, save for the bodies. "The executioner will be here to take us soon, and doubtless there's a new rotation of somebody on the way in the morning; this escape will not go unnoticed for more than a day. A grand gesture of defiance by leaving destruction and burnt rubble in our wake would be a wonderful way of letting them know they haven't broken us."
"Unless there's a dragon somewhere else we could free, I think my business is done." She reaches up to pat Grumblejack on the arm, careful not to touch any of the bruises whether they would hurt or not. "You will have your vengeance, big one. Come, your freedom awaits." Moving toward the door and Alicia, she holds onto her club, ready to drop it at a moment's notice.
Ariana smiles as she steps out of the cell, soaking in the entire hulking sight of the ogre before her. "Oh, it would be our pleasure. Together we will find freedom, Gumblejack."
Ariana's fists ball up as Alicia laughs and mocks her, taking in a deep breath and turning back toward the cell door so that she doesn't give the woman the benefit of seeing her expression. At least, until her face lights up a little at the name "Grumblejack". A peculiar one, likely not human in the slightest. She quickly dashes toward the dropped key to retrieve it, coming back to the cell with a confident, composed stride, so that the first thing the prisoner sees is someone together and fierce. She undoes the stone door, pulling it open with likely a heavy grunt due to its weight, before stepping in and undoing the chains that hold the creature one by one, hand already shaping around a spell in the event of betrayal.
Voice dropping down to a furious whisper, she turns toward Alicia, speaking lowly so that the prisoner can't hear her. "And if you had any sense in yours you would notice that he is isolated in a reinforced cell rather than put in with us. Whatever he is, he is likely dangerous well beyond any of us and if you would rather wager 'sense' on somebody that you can't see, then you will deserve when he turns on you immediately upon getting free. If the minute-long price of ensuring a modicum of loyalty inconveniences you, then move on without me and I will join you. It's not like we have a fortified position at the top of a tower of anything!"
"We've been blessed with a rare chance to seize our rightful freedom, and are breaking out of Branderscar. While our friend has not afforded you the same chance, perhaps if you were willing to help us, I could free you? Are you fit to carry a weapon?" As she speaks, she looks to the stripped and looted guard bodies for a keyring she could use to unlock the door. "My name is Ariana Ddraig, and if you promise to fight for my allies and I, at least until we have crossed the bridge back to land, then I will grant you freedom. What is your name, and will you swear this oath to me?"
Ariana peers toward the door, wondering what danger could be lurking behind it so great that it would require such reinforcements. Moving up toward it while the others examine and armor up, she slips toward the door, moving her mouth close to the small window so that she could be heard clearly. "Hello?" she calls into it. "Are you awake in there, whoever you are?" She would have been surprised to discover otherwise, given the noise their fighting made.
Ariana picks up one of the clubs, knowing her magic won't last her all night, and that beyond that her claws will only last a little longer. Something heavy she can hit people with once all that runs out seems wise.
Oops, I didn't realize until just now that Ariana's backstory had been so s%&$tily formatted. Sorry about that, GM.
"Is there anywhere to go other than down?" Ariana asks, posture shifting to something more relaxed and deliberate, hands resting at her sides and remaining hands rather than shifting into something else. "I wasn't paying much attention to the layout on my way in, but perhaps we should move slowly, picking off guards as we find them until we can reach the courtyard and intuit from there what direction 'out of here' is."
Ariana cursed as the guard she'd relieved of his horn merely ran off to alert them with his own voice. Despite feeling weak, both from hunger and from the sickening feeling she'd been steadily contending with in the days since her infection, she moves forward, snarling with fury and looking around. She'd reacted too hastily, should have slipped him up instead of robbing him of his horn. Her hands are drawn out, prepared to shift into claws, intent on tearing the guard to shreds with her bare hands if she can get a hold of him. "Hurl him down the stairs!" she spat.
The fighting surprises and pleases Ariana, who had spent too long chained up and afraid she would be destined for a mass grave for her foolishness. But there seemed to be hope, suddenly, and she was more than willing to press that hope. Her eyes went to the nearest living guard, reaching for his horn to signal for backup, and the magic was at her fingertips on pure instinct before she had even started to consider it. She moved closer toward the bars, chanting her spell as magic thrummed through her for the first time in days, and oh had it been too long. She focused on the horn with her magic, causing it to become slipperly in his grasp, hoping to send it jumping out of his hold and to the floor where it would be useless.
I appear to have received an invitation to the wrong game, I got Throne of Night.
Faulty wiring of some s++#. I don't know for certain, but at some point it sparked, burst into flames, and took my computer desk and almost everything on it down with it--I managed to toss my 3DS, glasses, and other s+&$ onto my bed while someone brought the fire extinguisher. But then I had to buy a new computer, monitor, router, and desk. Fortunatelly nobody got hurt and my walls didn't catch, at least.
Hey. I'm the guy who was going to run this game before my computer actually exploded. Hopefully that won't happen again.
Sorry, but I think I'll have to drop out of the game. It's looking good so far, but I've started a new medication and it's putting me into a strange state, and I've bitten off more than I can chew when it comes to PBP right now. Very sad to duck out, but I've been in a fugue all weekend and I feel like I'll bog the game down if I stick to it.
"There are many words for how I'm feeling, but I can't say 'pleased' describes anything I'm feeling at the moment."
"Men," she sighed and gave a roll of the eye as she settled into the booth and drew out the paperwork she'd been handed the night before. "Okay, it's important to compare what we know, see if any details we know individually can shed light on someone else's plight." "My name is Ariana Ddraig, so far as I can tell, and am in the service of House Charthagnion. Yesterday I awoke in some strange location, tied up and without my memories. A tiefling named Lugen, also of Charthagnion, freed me and told me that House Leroung had taken my memories and struck a deal with devils. I'd rather like to get them back, which entais killing the devil in question and seeking out someone named Vince."
She perks an eyebrow. Someone with her name. That drew her attention at last, and gave her a burst of hope. She reached out for him, casting Mage Hand and using it to nudge his shoulder and get his attention. "That would be me, as far as I can tell, so anything you know would help."
Infernal: "By letting everybody know? I doubt the layman is fluent in Infernal." She glares at Adrien and sighs. "I can take care of myself; attention is not a problem. The fact I cannot remember anything about my life, and the fact my memories are used as a sacrifice as part of some political game I no longer have the understanding to care about are my problems. What I hope to gain is perhaps someone who can help me, or maybe even knows who I am and can fill in a couple of the million holes in my head right now. If you know a better way to go about that, then perhaps you could share it instead of standing there judging us."
She listens to everything they say, picking out words like 'House' and 'contract' that pique her interest. She considers making a move, until she hears them begin to speak in Infernal. She doesn't know it by name but she knows the words, and that's enough for her. She gets up and strides quickly over to them, speaking lowly.
Infernal: "I'm sorry for interrupting, but I'm hearing some interesting things and believe you may be able to help me. Are either of you gentlemen currently without memory and seeking the death of a demon?"
Ariana takes a seat near them, listening intently to the conversation partly out of lack of anything else, and partly because there was the narrowest chance it could be something that could help her.
Ariana spends some time when she awakes again trying in vain to figure something out about herself. No memories come, and she hasn't the slightest idea where to start on finding anything out about herself. Dejected, she slinks out of bed and into the common room for some breakfast and hopefully an idea, or otherwise some kind of insane divine intervention.
GM (And Vince?): Ariana turns to face him, but is disappointed when absolutely nothing constructive happens that would merit her interest.
GM: It was a similar note, but this one had a different name and address. The proper name and address, she felt. The name 'Ariana' felt familiar as well, and the brief echoes she had from early childhood confirmed that. She had a name again, but it gave her little else. Well, there was an address, but she had no idea how to find that address, or where she was supposed to be going.
GM: She nods slowly, keeping her eyes away from the barmaid as she tries to piece something out of it all together. She searches her person for anything that could trigger memories or provide some better explanation for who she was than simply a scroll that told her nothing.
GM: She stumbles into the inn, trying to guess by weight if she had enough coin to afford anything to eat. She dispels the lights as she hits the light coming from the inn. She immediately takes a seat, sighing with relief and trying to fully understand everything that just happened to her.
GM: The fact the temple seems vivid in her memory amidst almost nothing else pulls her to that direction. She heads off, keeping her eyes watchful around her as she sets down the avenue toward it.
GM: Arianna looks around with utter confusion, not even sure where to go from there. She calls upon her Dancing Lights to illuminate the area around her, circling them around her body as she sought some kind of clue or hint as to where to go next.
GM: She regarded the letter curiously; it was not, as promised, an answer to just about anything. Quite the opposite, it just threw words at her and explained nothing about her situaation. Was she Lugen Charthagnion, then? None of it made any sense to her. She rolled it back up and set off down the hallway cuatiously.
GM: "Cowards!" she screams after them, throwing her hand forward and hurling a burst of acid down the hall after them.
Now left alone, she puts her back to the wall and starts reading the scroll, looking both ways down the hall regularly to see if anyone else is coming to attack her.
GM: Arianna hisses at them, dodging under the arm of her attacker and deftly moving in a way that lines her and her attackers up in a triangle.
She then puts out her hands, chanting a quick spell beneath a snarl and unleashing a rolling torrent of flames from her fingertips.
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