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Hey all,
xoxo
Ah, gotcha, I see the confusion. I thought that Smythe was granting me custody, i.e. charge over her situation. Arla doesn't trust her yet, what with being an elf. When he offered to host her I thought he was just suggesting a place for Mel to stay, not to take Mel as his charge instead of mine. Since I failed the Sense Motive check, I leaned into it. I figured that Mel would stay with Smythe for a little bit until Arla could arrange a better place to keep an eye on Mel.
"You'd be surprised how interconnected citizen death and local taxes are," Arla responds to Mel. She smiles at the woman's complimentary reassurances, but the worried look on her brow betrays a deeper discomfort with the bowyer. "That said, it is unusual; but so is a woman who I have on the books as a village bowyer revealing herself to be a foreign elf who seems wrapped up in another foreign elf's plots." Receiving Colonel Smythe's confirmation of her authority, she visibly relaxes the tension built up in her shoulders. "Thank you, sir. I will continue as planned. Thank you for offering to host her; I will arrange proper arrangements soon once I have things sorted for the doctor and the young man." About time that buffoon recognized someone's authority besides his own. Man acts like he's the bishop. More calm now, she turns and gestures to the door. "Shall we?" she suggests to the others. ---
Arla lets out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding as the Colonel agrees to submit Elrin to further inquiry. She rolls her eyes at the man agreeing to talk privately - let the two obsequious fops have their fun talking about bureaucratic politesse. She snaps right back into her tension as the Brooksiders - well, the Brooksiders and the other elven agent - point out the danger in letting Elrin speak one-on-one. She watches closely as Elrin speaks privately to the Head of the Watch, but no extent of straining her mildly pointed ears could clue her in to the content of that hushed conversation. As the official tries to relieve the travelers, Arla steps forward again and resumes her stiff formal attention. “Colonel Smythe, sir, I beg your pardon, but I must point out that this Elrin fellow is sadly mistaken.” The twinge of a smirk on Arla’s lips indicates that, despite an apologetic tone, she takes great pleasure in correcting the smooth-talking agent. “He presupposes that these strange folk from Brookside have no legal authority over him. That much is true. However, in my capacity as a Coroner of Helm, it falls within my duties to investigate deaths within our borders. In fact, I specifically received an assignment to look into the goings on at Brookside. These people have brought a wealth of evidence to consider and I plan to act in the full capacity of my obligations to evaluate and report on this matter. In short, my duty is far from discharged at the moment.” Arla takes a moment to catch her breath, finding it more shallow that she’d like. The Colonel is a dunce, but why does he make me so nervous? she silently complains to no one. “I will make the proper requests to provide accommodations for the doctor and the young man until I can review this matter properly.” She glances over to Hannady and the Brooksiders, then shifts to make brief, uncomfortable eye contact with the elven bowyer. She turns back and takes a deep breath before continuing. “As for the elven agent Mel - Melira, was it? As for her testimony against her countryman… I would like to request special custody over her, sir. She has the trust of the others, but she is still a foreign agent in this complicated matter. We cannot simply allow her to move about Helm unimpeded. Considering her vocal opposition to Elrin and her role in combating elven agents, detaining them together would either allow collusion if this is part of the plot, or the injury a of witness should she speak true.” Arla licks her lips nervously and adds, "Sir, it seems well within the purview of my office to detain this individual personally. wouldn't you agree?" ---
Thanks! I'm also very relieved - Arla is better at being scary to bandits than recounting a persuasive tale about them. I'm not opposed to taking the belt and some other things, but I think I want to delay until it looks less like bribery.
Arla is quiet once Perrin explains the situation, processing the situation. Her head is somewhere else as the conversation continues. She refuses Perrin’s offer of the magical supplies. She hadn’t quite worked out how she felt about the whole situation, but it was best to avoid even the appearance of accepting a bribe - especially in front of the captive elf. She mechanically reciprocates Kelian’s introduction, and avoids asking after his family given what she had heard about Brookside. That would come later, if ever, and in this field of death it felt inappropriate. Arla keeps a sharp eye out as she marches with the remaining guards through the sticky mud, although she seems distracted for the rest of the journey. --- Once in Helm, when Hannady speaks to her, Arla seems to come back to reality. She nods solemnly at the guard captain. “I will testify to what I witnessed, in all my capacity as Coroner.” Following Hannady into the meeting room, Arla suppresses a groan. It had to be the head of the watch, didn’t it? She had never properly met the man, but she had seen him enough to develop a distaste for him. The fine clothes and polished medals always made her want to roll her eyes - clearly the man was interested in pretending to be some sort of nobility rather than putting in any honest work. True, Arla had a taste for jaunty hats, but at least they served some function on the road. She guessed this man wouldn’t last a mile on a palanquin. She tries to divert her focus away from the head of the watch and toward Mel’s recount. Her eyes widen at the woman’s revelation. Arla looks at her with a mix of awed surprise and caution, as one might look at a beautifully hued snake that one has just moved a rock to discover. Her head rushes, and she looks over to make eye contact with Hannady. He should never have had to get wrapped up in this, but she agreed to help him. She would honor her word now and deal with the spinning in her head later. “Head of the Watch,” she says as she steps forward, assuming a formal posture and trying to ignore the man’s contemptible sneer. “I am Arla Fuller, Helm’s Coroner. I cannot verify any of… this elf’s story,” she starts, risking a nervous glance at Mel, “but I was on my way to assess the situation at Brookside in my duties as Coroner, to see who might be held accountable for the dead there, according to reports. However, I encountered the captain and his charges with a full contingent of guards and horses as they traveled to Helm, under attack by what seemed to be bandits. I helped to drive them off, in accordance with the outlawing of banditry and my experiencing dealing with such robberies as a collector of taxes. Hannady’s guards, the Brookside residents, and I drove them off. We found as we examined them that they were all elves who had deliberately disguised themselves.” Arla took a moment to catch her breath, shooting a dirty look at Elrin before continuing. “These elves risked mortal peril to push past me toward the prisoner with a singular focus. In my experience traveling throughout the Bishopric and Iustia, it is rare to find so many elves in one place. Additionally, they are not known for banditry, and even if these elves had resorted to such measures, I find it unlikely that they would stray so far from the Elven Lands to ambush a road so deep within our borders. And I have never seen bandits act with such desperation to get to a single person; a coin purse, perhaps, but not a prisoner. That is,”[b] she continues, looking to meet Elrin’s eyes,[b] “Unless he is one of their number. “In my official capacity as a representative of Helm’s interests, Head of the Watch, I can confirm that I witnessed a band of roughly a dozen elves attack a contingent of Bishopric guards who were escorting an elven prisoners and potential witnesses to his crimes. I give my official recommendation that Helm and the Bishop take this attack on our guards seriously, and give ample weight to the testimony of these Brookside residents regarding Elven interference that resulted in a costly attack on one of our towns.” Arla finally finishes, breathing out a heavy sigh and stepping back. She assumes a more relaxed, but still formal posture as she looks over to Captain Hannady. She shoots him a look to try to say “You owe me a drink,” while trying to calm her queasy stomach. ---
Hey all, I'm sorry but I've had a rough sick day today. I don't know that I have a gameplay post in me this evening, so feel free to skip my post today or bot me to move things forward. Arla can quietly fume about elves for a round.
Quick question: are we using background skills? I was referencing people's character sheets briefly and I noticed that the amount of skills seems high.
Arla decides to give the pursuit one last shot. She pursues, and with a shout of, “Tiiviste!” she points a hand at the ground underneath her foe and makes the gesture of a hold grasping hold. The grass sinks away under her quarry and sticky mud bubbles up in its place, pulling at the archer’s boots. Mechanics:
[ooc]Okay! Arla casts glue seal in the elf’s square. DC 14 Reflex save or be entangled. It lasts for six minutes, and as a standard action the elf can make a DC 14 CMB or Escape Artist check to break free of the glue. In the meantime, Arla will try to get in melee range if the elf gets stuck and make attacks to damage him. If it fails, or if the elf gets free and starts running again, Arla will start shooting her longbow.
Here are some melee attacks:
Here are some longbow attacks:
I can’t imagine I’ll need more than this, but you have the numbers here if you need them, GM! Once through with the fleeing assailant, Arla returns to the wagon and guards. She approaches Hannady, giving him a sympathetic gap-toothed smile although her eyes are sad. “Sorry I was late. If I had gotten here earlier...” she apologizes, one hand on her hip and the other nervously scratching the back of her neck. Even when more somber, her voice is just a little too loud and tinged with overconfidence. “I got held up in Astin. My orders were to investigate Brookside, and I heard that you were dealing with the folks from there, but they wouldn’t tell me which way you went without filling out a bunch of paperwork, and by the time I got here, well…” She looks away sheepishly for a moment, then places what she hopes is a comforting hand on Hannady’s shoulder. Looking over the battle on the road, she notes with the three stand-outs: the grubby dwarf with the beautiful hammer and strange abilities for a mere guard; the mild-looking human man with impressive magic; the thin archer woman with the red scarf and the troubled look. Weren’t those two from Brookside? The town doctor and the bowyer who had recently moved in? And who was this elf in restraints? She nods to Hannady and ambles over to where they’re gathered at the wagon. “Well done out there,” she compliments, the somber edge to her cocky voice waning. “Arla Fuller, Coroner. You know, it really makes my blood boil to see bandits like these attacking folks on the roads…” She trails off as she looks to the corpses. As the ambushers’ equipment is stripped, she notices the elves’ tell-tale ears. Her friendly demeanor evaporates, replaced by a scowl of unrestrained disgust. “Elves? What are they doing here?” she demands. She turns her attention to the restrained elven prisoner. “What in the nine hells is going on here? Are the Elven Lands so low as to resort to mere banditry now?” she spits, temper rising. She draws her saber and grips it tightly, knuckles white as she fumes, obviously fighting an internal battle of restraint against vengeance. ---
As the archer scrambles up and continues to run, Arla scowls. She gives chase again, high stepping through the tangled forest undergrowth and slashing aside interfering branches as she goes with her saber in both hands. Her path lists slightly to the left, then with a sharp bark of, “Syöksyä,” she bursts forward, leaving a line of multi-hued after images of the coroner in her wake. In an instant she’s in front of the fleeing archer, her sword a blur of steel and rainbow flashes of light. The scowl on Arla’s face is nowhere to be found, replaced by a vicious smirk. Her smugness falters slightly when her attack fails to connect, but she bolsters it quickly and quips, “I told you it wouldn’t be that easy. Ready to stop running?”
Hm, I have one more thing I could try to stop this last elf from fleeing. But I'm not sure it's worth it to pursue. Say Arla were to look back briefly to see if anyone was pushing her to continue the pursuit. Do you think she would she any of you urging her to still chase?
Arla barrells past the dwarven guard and the surrendering archer toward the escaping assailant. The light fades from her eyes, but the fierce determination there remains. “Were you not listening to me, or are you just thick in the head?” she taunts as she chases. As she closes in, she barks out, “Luimia!” and grasps her saber in both hands. She lifts it up above her head and swings it down toward her quarry’s legs. The blade magically extends and wraps around the archer’s ankles, then suddenly tightens.
No problem! And yes, it does. I've been meaning to try playing one for a while, and I think it's definitely going to take some getting used to all the moving parts! I appreciate the retroactive check against the concealment. I've added a section in my character header for active conditions and will try to keep that updated as much as possible, since it seems like it will be fairly mutable.
Arla cries out as the arrows pierce through her armor and bury themselves in her torso, despite the wavering blur of magic around her. She grits her teeth and the violet light from her eyes seems to pour out in fury and tears from the pain. As the assailants try to flee, she presses her free palm to her blade. When it comes away, the same mark of the tax collector on her armor appears. She steps forward to slash at her fleeing foes, crying, “You can’t get away that easily, curs!”
Arla steels herself for the advancing assailants, saber held in front of her defensively. She whips her blade at the first one to try to maneuver around her, before realizing that they’re simply trying to move past her. Her aim is thrown off by her surprise when a dwarf with a magnificent hammer appears next to her. The blade sails through empty air and she turns to face her escaped target.
“Hey!” she scolds, scowling in annoyance at the attackers as if these people were not armed assailants but rude dance partners. She lets out a huff, allowing herself to focus as her eyes close briefly. When they open again, they shine with an overflowing violet light and Arla’s symbol of office manifests in the same light on her forehead. At the same time, her outline grows blurry, making it hard to concentrate on much besides those points of violet light. Arla moves with a greater deliberateness, slowly taking in the situation. That focus explodes into energy as she speaks a single word, “Sähköisku,” running a finger along the edge of her saber and leaving not blood but a line of crackling electricity. She brings the saber up in a diagonal slash before quickly bringing it down again at one of the quickly diminishing band of mysterious assailants.
Ah, I do see that it's uncertain, at least for the characters. The GM did call them elves in the last post, though, and I've had elves on the brain lately so that doesn't help. :p I'll assume that I'm calling them elves outside of what Arla knows for now.
Over the din of battle, it's easy to miss the sound of an additional pair of boots sprinting (as much as was possible here) to join the fray. The owner of those boots appears as her magic wears off, revealing a woman dressed for travel with a chain shirt over a maroon gambeson and a fine saber in one hand. The front and back of her armor faintly glow with a magically placed sigil, a symbol of equal fear and power: that of a tax collector. Facing the elves struggling with their footing on the hill, she looks over her shoulder and gives a gap-toothed smirk to Captain Hannady. "You leave Astin for one day, and this is what you get up to? Without me?" she teases. Turning to the group of elves in front of her, she makes a sweeping gesture at them while uttering a word of arcane power, pelting the group with a sudden flurry of icy snowballs that hit like hailstones.
Hey all! Good to be here! I'm excited to get started. |
