Sorry folks, got absolutely smashed by work and family this last week or so, and I’m not really going to be able to get to this for at least a day or so...
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Attai merely nods to Ortega and mutters “Not your fault...” before heading off toward the shore with Moria and the captain...
Seeing Ortega somewhat mollified (or at the very least where sylph harrowers are concerned, not swinging a greatsword) Attai swings his considerable ire and attention to the hooded trickster. As well as his gnarled club...
Attai cries out in shock and pain, dropping the crossbow. He brings forth the druidic lump of wood and clubs Ortega, trying to trip her...
Attai shoots her (Galene) with his crossbow. [+2 Dex, +2 BAB]
Attai nods to Moira silently.
Attai looks in the direction indicated. "I always wondered whether the... rough humanoids needed fires or campfires as much as those without dark or shadow vision. I...guess fire is good for cooking though, universally. So...we go cautiously?"
Ah. Yes. My...Discord...username. Will do.
I’m ok with Discord - Iagon’s player runs a couple games I play in (and plays in another) and uses Discord quite a bit.
Attai stays quiet, though it is clear he is tense, never once taking his eyes from the burning ship or their rear. He plays idly with the pouch containing his treasured Harrow deck, but does not draw any cards. ”Through the night and all day beyond if needs be. Much distance...” he trails off.
Attai clues into the hastyness of the situation. Taking hisndagger put he cuts at the boats ropes...
Attai stands still, a little confused. He looks at Iagon, then Moira. ”So...what are we doing?”
Attai places a comforting hand on the captain's shoulder. "It is over. For now. But if they were running from something....odds are whatever they ran from is headed this way." The sylph turns to his companions, worry evident on his face. "We must see the captain to safety, else she comes with us further on our journey."
Attai smiles grimly down at the Captain. "None that we have seen I'm afraid..."
Attai looks around. Blinks. Stares at the deck. Blinks again. He leans on the druid club, using the gnarled weapon as a convenient crutch. Arachnid ichor, webbing and blood of his allies litter the boards beneath his feet. ”By the Harrow...” is all he can muster.
Attai drops the heavy crossbow and rushes to Túrante’s aid, brandishing the gnarled druidic club, swinging it at the arachnid abomination. [+2 BAB, +2 Str, +1 ABP, +1 bless; +3 THF]
Thanks for the peeks behind the curtain, and for compiling the Journal. I think it is almost imperative for PbP...and makes much more work for you - so again, thank you.
Attai spins around, and seeing Moira in trouble has a moment of hesitation. Still, he has a clearer shot on the closer creature. He shoots it.
[+2 BAB, +2 Dec, +1 bless]
Attai moves to support Iagon in case something else untoward and undead appears, pointing his heavy crossbow into the exposed portal.
Attai nods a soppy, soggy thanks. He stands, careful not to disturb any of his or Iagon’s muck. He loads his crossbow and...staggers a little, clearly affected by the recent battle. ”That was...disturbing. What manner of spider...does this?”
Attai loses his battle and erupts.
Attai continues to weave, then falls prone. He considers whether the deck needs a new coat of vomit...
Attai weaves a little in place...
Artai stows his heavy crossbow and climbs up the rope...
Attai finishes casting his spell...
Sounds like two good reasons to stay away from home!
Attai nods to the captain, and shares a furtive nod with Liamae. He reloads his crossbow casts a spell, and prepares to board the listing vessel.
Attai’s crossbow answers Moria, sending a bolt toward the spider.
The sylph’s eyes widen in estimation of the shot, then he shrugs. ”Well, crossbows are pretty simple to aim, if not operate. Liamae’s probably the best shot.” he smiles, before becoming serious again. ”Let me call upon a blessing from the Harrow...”
Seeing Liamae, Attai loads his heavy crossbow...
Attai enjoys the sedate journey, musing over small things as the waters carry them along. When the listing craft is spotted he moves closer to the Captain. ”Do you recognise the frigate Miro? The Admiral said there was a boat perhaps missing this way. I say this is likely it.”
”To the boat...” Attai echoes Liamae.
”Well friends, what is is to be. A slog afoot, or a dread boatride?” Attai asks the group.
Attai frowns, much as he is wont to do when thinking. ”I am not known for my social etiquette. Too removed, too rapt by my own thoughts and the interstices of warp and weft of fate. But I have no trouble asking questions. Of which the simplest is “How are you?”. Which is in itself a story, and one with serious social currency. It not only proffers caring, but it enquires as to state and , thus, can be self-serving - an allay to possible violence or ill intent.” The sylph snorts, clearing his nose. ”Enough philosophy, dark skald. Play us a tune and dispel our melancholic meanderings.” he finishes with a wry smile. ”Iagon. How far is it to Belhaim? And do we go by land or water? I...somewhat miss travel by boat...”
Attai turns the cards and looks at them. He takes a few moments, looks at Moira. Looks at the cards again. His eyes thin. Then close. He seems to listen, or think, before grimacing with some esoteric effort. ”Well. The Harrow does not disappoint. Now...normally, if such can be said of the Harrow, a three card spread can be used to infer past/present/future events, times and intents. And this might be so here. Your past [here holds up a card showing a person struck with a lightning bolt from a giant blue hand in the sky]. Your present [here holds up a card showing two people in similar attitude and clothing, but all colors are diametrically opposed, and one holds a dagger behind their back]. Your future [here holds up a card that depicts a castle raised from the ground, made mobile by a giant set of mechanical arms and legs. Below, a horde of enemies and invaders shake their fists in frustration at their target, now safely out of their reach.] But the interesting thing here is that your fate and your arrival, with this band, is now woven tight. And the Harrow is reflecting this. So while this is your reading, it is our entwined fate.” Attai smiles before continuing. ”You are a force of creativity - this has been your journey. Touched by the divine spark of creativity you are a channel to build and bring into being. Joy. Sadness. Fear. Death. Love. Hope. Rebirth. As endless as the ululations of the wind, the soughing of the waves or the ouroubouratic meanderings of spiral serpents of Creation. And this journey has brought you these emotions. Until now.” Attai replaces the first card inside the deck, and turns to the next. ”Whatever you once were, at each moment you are also the next iteration of yourself. Time is Nature’s way of stopping everything happening at once, to be sure, but causality is fed by choice and luck and fate. And so here you are. At a turning point. And at a crossroads are we too. We now take your fate on board with us, but what will that bring? Are you a firm ally, and good friend, as Kytes, who we have now seen depart. Or are you a force of inimical impact, intent on harm? Conversely, who are we to you? Are we a positive impact, or a devolutionary path away from your destiny? Most interesting to me is the point at which this card appears - second of three, right in the middle of the spread, indicating a mid point. And three cards of the Neutral axis, which itself sits in the middle of Law and Chaos. A crux of fate or peak of destiny. That the card itself evokes. For us. For you. ” Here Attai’s smile sharpens, almost wistfully as he places this card too inside the deck. The sylph looks forward into the middle distance, whether musing, cogitating heavily or merely taking his time in the time-honoured tradition of theatrical oracular presentation. ”Which brings us to the Keep. In some ways it is a juxtaposition - a fortification, but that is mobile. That which is stolid is yet also flexible. For you, I feel the Harrow is telling you that you are embarking on a journey in strength. But that is opposed to how you may have seen strength and flexibility heretofore. There is also danger here, for as the fortress moves it risks crushing those below it - and that is both a warning to you as for us, for we serve the castle, the Marquis is the fortress, and we his mobility, travelling to build strength for the sake of the people. And one more note appears - the Keep belches forth smoke as it moves - the sign of technology and industry, that which we have seen the tension of in our dealings with the fey and forest folk. So, as you travel with us, you are a part of this Keep, and we entrust you to defend it.” Attai swallows hard as he puts the final card back in its place amongst its fellows. He wipes his brow. ”My apologies Moira. This reading blurs and blends our fates. As I said, it is as much about you as it is us. Perhaps at some future juncture we can revisit the Harrow and attempt a more personal reading. This was what I call a “cold reading” without context. As we are your current context, it is not unsurprising that the Harrow wends thus.” Attai makes a small smile. ”At least as far as I interpret it. As ever, the cards might have deeper or even reversed meanings for you - I am but a biased, mortal foil by which you can interpret other skeins and snatches of your own perceived fate...
”Moira.” the sylph nods. ”Numbers. Safety. Interesting. Should you have kept apart from us, you might be safe. Or then again, you may be safer joining with us, rather than striking out on your own. ” Attai favours Moira with a sidelong glance as they tramp along. ”Though it us apparent that you can look after yourself.”
”Thinking further, Moira. The Harrow is, in part, numeric. If you would care to draw three cards I could attempt a reading.” Attai produces his well worn leather card case, and thumbs the deck toward Moira.
”Yes, Iagon. I am ready.” Attai is inscrutable, in sharp contrast to the emotion so recently displayed. His head shifts momentarily and minutely to the side. He falls into step beside Moira. ”Miss Keening. “Numbers and safety”. I am wholly unfamiliar with this saying, and admit to understanding but half of it. Could you explain?”
Attai nods solemnly. ”I may not have travelled with you as far or as long as Iagon, or Liamae, but know that every moment with you has been a blessing. I will miss you - (here looks at the eagle) and Eir - as fine companions, worthy allies, reliable advisors, and most importantly, as friends.” The sylph embraces the half-orc warmly. ”May the Harrow unfold for you as it should.” Attai draws forth a card for Kytes.
The harrower frowns, then smiles a crooked, wry smile. ”Looks like you are headed for trouble.” Attai reaches up, and strokes Eir’s feathers. ”Scout the ground Eir, you keep him safe.”
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