Crow

Cawmirth Ravenheart's page

57 posts. Organized Play character for Song of Night.


RSS

1 to 50 of 57 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | next > last >>
Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth was rather pleasantly surprised that he'd been able to convince their good friend Blind Oliver to lead them along quite so swiftly as he did. So he shuffled along with nowhere near the saucy aplomb with which Callista carried herself, simply keeping his shuffling, hunched gait as they went upstairs and along into the conspirators' inner sanctum.

That there was a group of men didn't particularly please Cawmirth. And had there been a casual air about the place, he would have taken the time to chat a bit with each of them and try to sniff out any hint of a Chelish accent from any of the lot. But, with all those eyes on him, he sadly didn't have the freedom to make sure there weren't spies in their midst. Ah well. Who ever said they'd be working under ideal conditions.

"Councilor Kinch, I was sent here on official dispatch from the Undersecretary to the Supreme Elect, along with several companions, to conduct an investigation here in Alastor. I'm aware that, on its face, that likely disposes you rather poorly towards me, or at least your speech earlier today would give me reason to believe such. But, as a lawfully elected official and, as far as I can tell, the only person with a real understanding of the concerns of the vast majority of the people of Alastor, I only felt it right and proper to share my findings with you."

Deflecting his attention from that rather direct stare he'd given Kinch, Cawmirth lifted a claw, his head quickly glancing to each side to address the circle of Kinch's companions in his next few words. "Antipathetic towards Almas as you all may feel, I imagine you haven't had an agent of the council with any autonomy come here in quite some time. Else, things wouldn't have deteriorated to this point... and, tempting as it might be to simply vent your frustrations on me with boot and fist, I hope we can have a civil enough discussion that I may, at the very least, record the truth of your grievances such that the People's Council might not be so blind to what transpires in the far reaches of our dear nation. Though, it is my hope that we can do more than just that, for all our sakes..."

Cawmirth inclined his head forward rather humbly, hoping he'd at least thrown a little water on all that smoldering anger that had built up towards the capital for so very long.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Sorry, I think I'm just kind of overthinking things (in-between house hunting, but we finally found someone who'll rent to foreigners). I keep writing a post halfway and then just realizing a big flaw in it, you know? And the longer time passes, the more I feel like I owe everyone to post after making them wait so long!

So, sorry for holding everyone up.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

I'm quite happy with the game, too, Phil! I think our side of things (Callista and Cawmirth) just had a bit of bad timing. Over the last week I got married (yay!) and moved to Beijing to start a new job. Though, it's unlikely to be a terribly taxing new job, so I can get back to doing once a day.

If there was any question I might ask, maybe some guidelines for when Cawmirth can use his Linguistics instead of Bluff,Diplomacy and Intimidate? So I know what I need to present to ask for it (and aware of the earlier caveat you gave me that some people might just interrupt him and prevent the check from being made).

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Content enough to just shuffle along inside and let his more personable associate do the talking heretofore, Cawmirth's eyes narrowed a bit at the pet comment. Not so much because it honestly bothered him, as he'd long ago grown rather inured to such insults, but rather out of sheer annoyance at how utterly trite it was. Leave it to some backwater yokel to have to scrape the bottom of the cognitive barrel for the half-congealed leavings of monstrous humanoid insults.

Cawmirth cleared his throat, glancing to Callista. "You know, candid observations tend to go better if the people being observed aren't aware of it."

Still, as friendly as Callista was being with them, Cawmirth didn't see much harm in shuffling up to Blind Oliver, peering up at him for a long moment before speaking. "Blind Oliver, is it? It's good to know Kinch has men he can trust. Certainly, my investigation seems to have turned up signs that trustworthiness is not the most common trait to be found around Alastor these days. Factionalism... an ugly thing, truly."

Cawmirth gave a small shake of his head. "Certainly, your loyalty is not in doubt. But, let's find out about your judgement, hm? A beautiful woman and her, admittedly bizarre, companion appear, saying they have an urgent message to give to the councilor. Now, it's very well possible that they are exactly the kind of ne'er-do-wells you've been instructed to ward off. Rootless drifters just trying to take advantage of the naivete of countryfolk."

Cawmirth pointedly glanced around the collected men, as if appraising each, before he looked back to Blind Oliver. "You seem canny men. Smart enough to know this whole region is a powder-keg just ready to go up. If you really want to keep us out, there is little we can do. We certainly couldn't compete with your force of arms. So, we would wait, and the soldiers your intelligence network doesn't even know about would come a day's march closer and Alastor would be a day closer to an open conflagration."

"Am I a pet? No. I was given my job because I can think independently and show the initiative to help my employers. And I think you aren't a pet, either. You're the kind of man who knows how to vet visitors, figure out who has a valid reason to come in or not, and make the call as to whether a few minutes of Kinch's time is worth it when every hour is an hour of hoofbeats and infantry boots marching on this city."

Cawmirth made a phlegmy, throat clearing sound. [b]"After we deliver our message... well, there's plenty of time for drinking with my beautiful friend and regaling us with how you came to be called 'Blind Oliver'."

I'm praying this is long enough to merit a Linguistics check (in play of Diplomacy) to improve Oliver's opinion.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Those are all quite good points as to why a merchant would want to visit Kinch. As well, just because she's visiting Kinch doesn't mean she can't visit Poolt later, so I think you've got those well addressed.

However, I would just like to point out that lies tend to be one of those things one easily gets tripped up in. Unless Callista has some kind of superlative disguise ability she'll be pulling out for the meeting with Kinch, it means he'd know her as a Chelaxian merchant while Horn knows her as an Andoran envoy. Which is fine, but, it'd mean down the road if she goes to a council meeting where Horn and Kinch are both present, it'd quickly become apparent she lied to somebody about who she is. While the whole matter could be avoided by her simply avoiding places that have both Horn and Kinch, it seems likely to kind of sideline her when it comes to the whole council being around. A small concern.

I agree over-promising is something we want to avoid. In terms of what Cawmirth's thinking of offering, maybe you can let me know if anything looks problematic?

  • An immensely long apology, offered from a representative of the government. While words are just words, a big part of Kinch's speech was about shame on the government, so it's at least appropriate for Cawmirth to say, "You're absolutely right. We've been terrible about this.

  • Mention of the soldiers being sent back, with a note that they weren't requisitioned, but volunteered by Thorn. It's an opportunity for a sense motive to see if this is genuinely surprising for Kinch or not.

  • An opportunity to speak to the People's Council. This might be the over-promise you were alluding to, since the Undersecretary didn't specifically include this in explicit support given, but I think if we sent a letter back saying, "The guy who has been arguing for his city to secede has agreed to come lay out his grievances to the council," I feel like us having her official writ for the mission would at least have her try to arrange it. Maybe not, but at least it's something that wouldn't cost her any money or soldiers while it buys time.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Double post!

Sorry about the wall of text, Callista! Cawmirth posts always... turn out to be unspeakably long, even if I don't start out intending them to be.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

"Good good. I'm glad to hear it. Having some already en route and the possibility of other mercenaries to come... well, I'm sure it will shore up our position here..." Himself, rather prepared to step out with Callista, Cawmirth didn't respond immediately to Lavinia's comment about Horn's last dispatch of soldiers. An entirely voluntary dispatch of soldiers.

He simply stared at the captain for a few long seconds, placid and thoughtful. Then, carefully, he lifted up one talon as if to make a point before suddenly both claws upward in a paroxysm of curmudgeonly "I told you so!" rage, eyes burning with righteous fervor. The pantomime of academic rage, one he and his ilk were far too well acquainted with, passed and he turned to Callista.

"Yes, well, I suppose we ought to let our friends enjoy their dinner with Thorn. Perhaps they can lift his spirits up about how utterly empty and defenseless the city is after he chose to send its garrison away without being prompted." Unlike earlier, he didn't bother to change his appearance this time, simply appearing as his regular, hideous old self as they departed.

Cawmirth leaned back through the doorway, leering at Sebi unpleasantly. Or imploringly. It was hard to read his body-language sometimes, but to know that it wasn't something one really wanted to be exposed to overmuch. "Oh, could you trade poems with Councilman Thorn or find some other means of acquiring his hand-writing? The more the better." It would be wrong to do anything with it before they'd proven his guilt, but Cawmirth was certain enough of that that he just hoped to have it ready if the need arose. With that he whipped back like a tree snapping up from being bent over, trotting after Callista.

"Before we arrive, perhaps it would be best to ensure we are on the same page. I was curious as to your thoughts as to how we ought to proceed." Comfortably slipping into Varisian, Cawmirth's claws cartwheeled a bit as he shuffled alongside the priestess, weaving and waving along more often than not when he was speaking more casually. Cawmirth nodded thoughtfully to Callista's Westcrown plan, which his player blithely assumed she'd tell him about. "Well, I would hardly want to dictate to you what to say, but, being far and away the most intelligent member of our team, I fear it's my obligation to do so." Oh, Cawmirth, don't be so modest. "We know Kinch is angry that his city is being bled dry. That the last levy of soldiers was volunteered for the war effort is a rather key piece of information in prompting a response from him. For one, finding if he was aware of Horn's last levy being sent off without so much as a request from the People's Council. For another, reading his reaction when it's pointed out that Thorn personally signed off on this. The latter, in particular, will likely tell us whether they are in collusion or contention, from Kinch's perspective at least."

"Secondly, our excuse for visiting. Now, I am an honest tengu, as you've no doubt picked up, so I have no desire to go misrepresenting ourselves. Particularly since you met with Maester Horn, complicating any desire for subterfuge." He cast a glance to her, feigning reluctance (poorly). "...though, I think we can have it both ways, if you insist on it. I think we can present ourselves as being somewhat aligned with Kinch's thinking within the confines of our mission. Or... I can, at least." Cawmirth hunched his shoulders, his head rolling a bit between them. "While I disagree with him about the advantages of secession, I do agree with his stance on this war, generally, and his complaints about the nation's priorities. Now, if he's so utterly soured on Andoran that any cooperation with the government is off the table, so be it. But, I think I can paint a win-win scenario for him."

Cawmirth at that point turned his head to clear his beak, making a few heavy, phlegmy croaks before continuing on without a care as to Callista's comfort around bodily functions. "I'm a scholar sent by the People's Council in Almas, under the direct authority of the undersecretary to the Supreme Elect, to apologize to Alastor and make things right. Soldiers are on their way, soldiers Thorn specifically sent out of the city, but more than that... I've been sent to find the man best able to represent Alastor to speak before the People's Council. This is where the official can segue into the personal. A man of his eloquence, of his fervor, of his authenticity, is needed in the capital. Not just for Alastor, but for all of us. The war is emptying the classrooms of the nation, putting sabres in the hands of its best and brightest so they can die for nothing. It's choking the sea-lanes with blood, and letting other mercantile interests crowd out our own. And, in city after city, town after town around the nation, just like Alastor, people are crying out for someone like Kinch to speak truth to power. If he is ignored, he can return and no one could ask any more of him. But, if he succeeds... it isn't Thorn and his soldiers who win Alastor peace, but one man, doing so bloodlessly, with naught but the truth and his convictions..."

"I... ah... could go on at voluminous length painting the scene, but I'm saving it for Kinch. In any case, that's what I feel is a fine approach to take. If he refuses, I can spew some creative invective at him and storm off, at which point, being a businesswoman, I imagine you could shift to seeing if you could ensure that your timing and place ensure you can keep profitable relations with Alastor. Either ensuring materials continue to make it in via smuggling and personal deals, if you wish to present yourself as Andoran, or through official channels, if you wish to play the Chelaxian and bedevil my arguments with doubts and rebuffs. You could do either."

Cawmirth shifted his voice down a bit, as if speaking to no one in particular. "Though, someone on a purely mercantile mission would likely skirt the fiery populist and either go to dinner with the head of the council or go to see the wealthy merchant on the council, Lysander Poolt. Unless the dark lord Asmodeus has suddenly begun demanding sacrifices of fresh-baked, whole grain bread." Cawmirth shrugged once more, threatening to give himself a repetitive stress injury. "But what do I know? That's just what I'd be thinking if I were him. Why are these people coming to see me?"

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Yarp.

Yes

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Moving to quickly support Lavinia's position, Cawmirth addressed Sebi rather bluntly. "We don't need the mercenaries for their force of arms, we need them for the fact that the people here have seen every able-bodied soldier shipped off east into a war with no clear goal nor end while they are under the very real threat of being invaded and enslaved by Hellknights. Your words, and Callista's, will likely be well-served by any soldiers we can get here." He glanced to Lavinia. "...and if things do erupt here, I'd rather Thorn didn't have his thumb on every man trained to use a spear in the whole damn city."

As to Callista's statement, Cawmirth gave a nod of agreement to that too, helping her move the argument along its natural conclusion. "Yes, it would likely be for the best to fabricate evidence to convict a man based on our own instincts. It's the only way to preserve Common Rule and a free and unbiased system of representation and justice against the depredations of a state that treats its people like pawns to be thrown away for the greater good."

Cawmirth crossed his arms and glanced at the rest of them, not entirely surprised a military woman and an aristocrat would see things from the viewpoint of the top (and not faulting them for it either), but feeling a little bit flustered that Callista couldn't be a bit more pedestrian in her perspective. "Look... we potentially have before us two enemies, one material and one not. The former, Chelaxian agents, may or may not be present. I'm personally of the view that Thorn, if anyone, is likely to be in league with them if they are present, but it's not entirely clear the Chelaxians, our true enemies, are even present, though it is fairly likely they are. All that we do know with complete certainty is that there is a very real danger of secession here."

Cawmirth lifted a hand, the index and middle fingers moving together given his own somewhat less numerous anatomy, hidden behind his human mien. "Bringing me to the second enemy, the secession movement. Is Kinch fanning the flames of it? Absolutely. Does this serve the interests of Cheliax? Yes. Does that mean he is working with them? Not necessarily. While I have the talent to create an absolutely perfect confession of the man to any and every crime we might wish to throw upon him, I want to make immediately and quite clear that I will not unless we have some convincing evidence he is in league with enemy agents. Mere supposition is not enough, or I'd have Thorn''s in hand. There is a great difference between putting the safety of one's community before the safety of one's country and betraying one's country for gross personal gain. Particularly relevant to this distinction is that I get the impression we have a city that is vastly in favor of the former, and I don't think I have quite enough time to write 10,000 incriminating letters. Blackmail, extortion, bribery, they all have their place, but when it comes to popular movements, our only option, given that governmental legitimacy here is based on the support of the people, is persuasion."

He glanced to Callista, shifting his tone into something a bit more personal, given they they would be working together. "Regarding Kinch, I do think we are best served, at least in our direct dealings with him, to present who we are. For the time being, he is a lawful representative of the local government and we are lawful representatives of the national government. If we present ourselves as who we are to every council-member but Kinch, I can't imagine the people of Alastor will find that very trustworthy behavior. We have to win the hearts and minds of the citizens, right?"

Cawmirth shrugged and lowered his voice a bit. "Besides, if that doesn't work, we can always just watch the place for a day, find a good time to break in, and look for anything incriminating."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15
TPO Lavinia wrote:
Is everyone OK with skipping directly to the evening? Unless anything relevant occurs, of course. I understand the plan is for Sebi and Alysandra to go dine with Thorn, and Callista and Cawmirth to infiltrate Kinch's house?

I'm good for skipping to evening, with a caveat that Cawmirth's going shopping for knick-knacks to replace that braille bracelet (this'd be the chance for others to grab one, too, if they wanted).

Since planning is the part that just makes the DM wait, I guess it could be best to get that over with in short here.

Cawmirth's of the view that, while there's a chance they could break in and find something incriminating, there's nothing to outwardly suggest Kinch is some kind of demon-afflicted psychopath. He's just a pissed off guy who feels like his country's given him the short end of the stick. So, the bird man's in favor of approaching Kinch and pretty much laying out that they were sent to deal with the problems in the Vale and no one, NO ONE, would be a better spokesperson to the Supreme Elect himself about how neglected and abused Alastor's been than Kinch.

Of course, the plan relies on him being somewhat tractable, but Cawmirth prefers to lean on his old skill-set as something of a last resort. Though, given that Callista can cast invisibility, the option of Mr. Kinch seemingly only receiving one visitor is totally there...

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Noting the efforts everyone was making to be rather unobtrusive, and being about as obtrusive a racial minority as one could find in the small city, Cawmirth piped up. "This scholar's cap of mine is, in fact, possessed of the same enchantment as yours, Captain. Though, if you might, ah... give me some advice how best to look human..."

And with a few pointers here and there, Cawmirth soon managed to have the suitably bland appearance of a middle-aged, dark-haired man of mixed heritage (that Chelaxian/Taldane mongrel type) with a bit of gray at the temples and a resting b%@~#-face that let everyone know what an a#$&&!+ he was at a glance. Perfect for going out and listening to secessionist windbags.

As an audience-member, he was one of those kinds that could fluster a speaker if given attention (looking incisively skeptical and somewhat bored at once). Which made it all the more curious that, despite his appearance of wanting to give Kinch a swift kick in the balls, Cawmirth honestly found himself rather sympathetic to the man's position. The grumbles of his companion suggested he best not be too open about that.

Clearing his throat and speaking in a low voice, Cawmirth opened his mouth to give a brief aside and ended up delivering yet another long-winded lecture. It wasn't (just) that he liked hearing himself talk, but one had an obligation to properly support any propositions put forward if one was to treat his listeners with any respect.

"Whatever disagreements we may personally have with his positions, a seed doesn't grow in barren ground. The council holds... what? A career politician, a moneyed plutocrat, a clergywoman, a disgraced nobleman, a long-serving military officer, and a baker. While it may be easy enough to see him as the minority from that perspective, from the looks of this crowd, he may be the closest to the majority opinion here. Not that he hasn't been rather active in pushing that opinion toward his own position..."

Cawmirth tapped at his chin, narrowing his eyes and staring up at the glowing, impassioned figure. When they moved, he'd certainly be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Silence him, and turn him into a martyr. Find some means to coerce him into cooperation and the fires of dissatisfaction could spring free of the reins he held. They could pray he had some dark secret to discredit him, but... if not? Cawmirth reached into his pack, pulling out the Pathfinder Chronicle he had on the role of large kin-groups on the democratic process in the country's long(ish) history. The professor was already trying to think of all he could as regarded the current war with Taldane, from its causes (better and lesser known), to its progress, and results up to now; some perspective from his tome would no doubt help in the endeavor.

Knowledge (History): 1d20 + 16 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 16 + 2 = 22

Here, Cawmirth's trying to know not just the official reasons given for the war with Taldane, but possible behind-the-scenes elements of it: mercantile interests pushing for the war, individuals with grudges against the Taldanes. Compared with the rest of the country, has the Vale's burden from the war been equal? Greater? Lesser? He needs some points of reference for either shutting Kinch down when it comes to a debate or letting the man know he's right in his grievances, but needs to go about this a different way...

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth unceremoniously slumped down on a bed, hunched forward and looking at the walls with something between a forlorn sense of potential wasted and a creeping sense of alarm. "I am unlikely to be of much help at a dinner with Thorn. This and that." He paused. "As the only one of us with any arcane talent, are you able to ascertain how the room's illusions are controlled, Lady Moncrief? While we may have some piece of mind sitting in this dreary room, I fear we might have the room's capabilities used against us one way or another." Cawmirth stated rather flatly, before nodding his head to Callista.

"Loathe as I am to admit it, I think it might be best if we accompany one another, Callista. I found myself a bit frustrated in my meeting with the Councilor as I hadn't any means to discreetly communicate with Lady Moncrief. You and I may speak in Varisian with some semblance of security, and the Lady and Captain may do so far more securely in Celestial. Of course, we must still be circumspect, but it does allow us a degree of secrecy in our communications." The bird shrugged and wriggled, taking off his haversack.

"As for visiting Kinch, there is something to be said for visiting him as he is orating and another to be said of visiting his bakery. If you wish to know a man's secrets, find where he sleeps, as my elders so often liked to say. I am pleased enough to go on either visit. I have little preference in the matter." The bird reached a talon into his sack, rooting around a bit and peering here and there.

"Do any of you wish to have a braille bracelet? I may have one or two extra stashed away here. Though I'd appreciate it if you compensated me the twenty five gold pieces I paid for them."

Cawmirth's Deep Pockets ability lets Cawmirth whip out mundane items from a 200 gp reserve. As long as he has a chance to meander through the market and buy knick knacks, I'm happy to deplete that reserve and get everyone a bracelet. Though, the DC 10 Intelligence check to remember what each symbol means might be a bit rough to beat.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

I vote for the latter. Kinch Kinch Kinch!

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Welcomed into the rather distinctly themed building, Cawmirth bowed his head to the lady of the establishment, though he never took his eyes off that note. He'd be damned if he didn't want to get a look at it for anything at all out of the ordinary.

Thorn was no fool, so it was probably all above board. Probably.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 33 This is purely keeping an eye on the note through the course of the conversation. Which pocket it went into, if it's palmed, passed off to someone, etc.

"Captain, really!" Cawmirth squawked with a flap of his arms. "Well, I suppose it is your job to keep us protected, but still, these rooming arrangements..." Cawmirth shook his head sadly.

Still, it was hard to know if they were safe from the prying ears of the mistress. He hadn't the means to communicate with Lavinia. The need to draw a reaction made most anything he could say to Sebi entirely inappropriate for maintaining the gravity of her situation. And Callista? Well... he simply didn't want to encourage her.

He briefly looked over to Callista, a silent moment before he let out a short, rough "Heh!". "Now that's the spirit. Ms. Jeggare, you so often lend yourself to discretion and that poker face of yours. It's good to know you are quite well aware of when to remain professional and when not to." His gaze lingered on her, a pregnant pause before his attention shifted.

Cawmirth sidled closer to the captain, casting a glance over to the madame before he began to speak in a voice that was just low enough to suggest he didn't want his volume to overly distract the others, confident in his meaning being entirely lost on those assembled. The meaning being lost on the others because he was speaking so very casually to Lavinia in Varisian. "Why are you playing coy now? Weren't you saying how we could get away from prying eyes out here in Alastor? About our... tastes?"

"Just last week you were talking about that thing you have for tacky orientalist kitsch. Seraglios and servile eunuchs, opulence and nigh-on offensive exoticism all bound up in an absurd sexual fantasy." Cawmirth pointed his talon at one of the men who had offered them warm hand towels. "That one would be perfect. You know it as well as I do. I just want to force-feed him cheese until the smell of curdled milk radiates off him. And the other? You could have him speak in that broken accent they use in the stage plays when they're delivering noodles as a plot device while he rubs buttered sausages all over me." Cawmirth paused, drawing back a bit and clearing his throat to look at the others, seeing if any of them registered a hint of awareness regarding his words.

I'm not sure whether this is a bluff to elicit a reaction or simply a sense motive to see if they react to... uh... the bait. Basically, it's an attempt to force a reaction if any of them understand what he's saying in Varisian. Assuming any of them even understand Varisian, but that's what Cawmirth's trying to figure out! I leave the rolls to you!

Cawmirth demurely mumbling in Varisian, still. "You know how I get with dairy products. And that duty-first, Andoran guard mystique you like to hide behind."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

I concur. Also...

Did I say clear in two weeks? I should have said three. Finals are upon us. May God help us all!

So... many... papers...

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth didn't say anything immediately, as the various dialects each had studied came in. He nodded to Sebi and Callista both, but spent the longest thoughtfully bobbing his head to Lavinia's answer before fixing a look at her from his stooped, squat frame.

"Indeed. Why study one of the dozens of languages actually spoken in Almas when there's Celestial to be learned? I mean, you get so much use out of it! Just think of all the times you're in a tight spot and your Celestial saved the day..." It didn't take a high sense motive check to tell that Cawmirth was mocking the guard captain's choice of languages, though, it might not have been immediately obvious that he was just salty she'd managed to choose one of the few languages he wasn't able to communicate in.

Looking to Callista, he then noted, in Varisian, "It is, unfortunately, a rather common language, but thankfully not one spoken by a great number of rural Andorans. I agree whole-heartedly with your assessment as to the importance of investigating Kinch and the dubious security of the inn, but if Sebi is to continue to maintain a friendly facade, it wouldn't do for her to doubt Thorn's trustworthiness. Though, I am under no such compunction."

Cawmirth then glanced to Sebi, speaking in the soft, ethereal tones of the elves. "Given what we are dealing with here, I imagine Infernal would be rather useless as a code. However, if you wish to play at being double agents ourselves, making use of stage whispers in the language, I will follow your lead."

He then simply sighed and returned to the common tongue. "I suppose, if it comes to us wishing not to be overheard and understood, the Lady and the Guardswoman are a natural pair. Oh, how I struggle to keep up with you, Ms. Jeggare..."

No extra ideas for the bracelet as of yet. Besides, y'know, us only having one on hand...

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth gave Callista a very long, very dry look from the old stink eye. She didn't get an arm or anything of the sort. His interest in playing along with her flirtatiousness began at the tongue and ended at the beak. He simply shuffled his way along with them towards the inn, content to hear what had been gathered from the military authority of the town and the thoughts of other two ladies.

That comment about breaking into Thorn's offices did make him click his tongue in disapproval. Really, who'd be so rude as to do that?

"I believe Thorn feels our interests don't align with his. Whether he is correct or incorrect in that assumption, I cannot judge, but I would recommend someone more flattering to the man's ego accompany the lady to her dinner engagement. We have entered into a game of webs upon webs. We ought be careful not to go alone unless it is a dire necessity."

Cawmirth took a moment to appreciate the architecture of their recommended lodgings, before glancing to the ladies present. "Speaking of carefully weighing our words... while it would be a small benefit for me to know what languages you are all familiar with, besides the common tongue, it is hardly a fully secure means of communication."

Cawmirth reached into his pack and produced a small bracelet, ten simple clay beads with different (and distinct) geometric shapes visibly raised from the surface of each. "Are any of you familiar with the braille bracelet? It is hardly the most convenient means of communication, but, if silence is necessary, or we wish to leave a message surreptitiously it may be our best, non-magical option. As long as we agree to a set of meanings to associate with each bead, it is easy enough to pass a silent message along, in the dark or with a subtle gesture..."

Dark Archive

1 person marked this as a favorite.
38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

I fully support this post!

Though, to answer the question of "what's in it for Thorn?" I refer you to Ossok Horn...

Quote:
"As for Thorn. You no doubt know of his failed bid for national office five years ago. Since then he's curtailed his ambitions. Focused on maintaining his authority in Alastor, which given his shaming was in actual jeopardy. He initiated a number of charities, helped erect the Pharasman cathedral in the lower quarters, and became something of a populist." Again he grows silent, mulling over his thoughts. "Does he have Alastor under his control? Officially, no. It's ruled by the will of the people. In practice? I would have said yes up until recently. He has a private standing army of about five hundred soldiers that he's recruited over the past two years. The city guard report to him. He gives amply to the poor. Yet Kinch's ascension. It's challenged him a way I'd not have thought possible. He's wilted before the man's brimstone and fire. His rebuttal yesterday afternoon was... mild, shall we say."

Thorn clearly is the military power in the city. Having paid for the cathedral, he's also got that on his side. So long as the city is part of Andoran, however, policy must be determined by democratic principles. Kinch threatens Thorn's position by being a populist, but if they secede Thorn holds all the cards, it seems. He controls all the troops and he's banking on Andoran *not* being able to send anything in to stop the secession.

Cawmirth's not there yet, but my own thinking as a player, is that Thorn is somehow behind Kinch getting Infernally influenced into wanting to secede. As soon as they're out of Andoran's reach, he can dispense with the council and use his military might to become a regional hegemon. Or maybe I just have no faith in humanity.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Having kept his mouth shut, lest he offend Thorn further, the sharp, sarcastic chuckle, thick with phlegm, communicated his feelings on the head of the council rather succinctly. Being succinct about his feelings was never Cawmirth's particular forté. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have wanted to be forthright with his thoughts in such a public place, but the soldiers gave them a bit of breathing room.

Stooped low, and his voice taking on a slightly conspiratorial hiss, Cawmirth began his expertly informed shit-talking.

"Not in the least, though, I have only my personal interpretation of his reaction to us by which to judge. Troublingly subjective, but one learns to count on such things when separating students beset by true setbacks from the self-serving, entitled little bastards paid for by daddy's mercantile enterprises." A hint of Galtan anti-plutocratic vitriol oozed out along with his justification for his perspective on Thorn.

"In his eyes, his frown, every small detail of his reaction to us, envoys sent by the central government, was both surprise and dismay. Therefore, we can take it that our entry into the situation is one he finds unwelcome. What, then, are the possible situations in which he would find our involvement a detriment to his own interests? I suppose first, we might consider those possibilities that assume he is being truthful with us..." Cawmirth glanced to the two who had just returned from meeting the military commander, nodding to them and nothing much more. He'd lay out the points in support of his argument, so there was no real need to otherwise get them up to speed.

"Assuming he is, indeed, loyal to Andoran and simply without the resources to secure Alastor the only reason I can assume he would find our presence here unwanted is that, in the circumstance we are able to repel the Chelaxians, he would be replaced by a mayor chosen by the People's Council. While certainly a possibility, he seemed to suggest he had no such faith in our abilities, though, perhaps he's just waiting to personally probe your abilities later tonight, Lady Moncrief." Cawmirth took a moment to cast a sidelong glance at Callista, feeling she would have played off that invitation they'd received in a far more entertaining fashion.

"If he is being coy as to his ability to guide the situation, then we would most certainly be unwelcome. Alastor has been largely been giving to the war effort with little to show for it. If Thorn were to remain as the head of an independent polity without such obligations it would be a net benefit to him. The presence of a populist arguing for secession provides a convenient scapegoat where any direct action of his own would be blatantly treasonous. In fact, there is a rather interesting anecdote from the history of the Tien people about an Empress Dowager similarly making use of a mass uprising against an invading army while publicly disavowing the rebels..." Cawmirth let his voice trail off as if to indicate he was just about to launch into a retelling that would last many a paragraph. But they were rather constrained for time, weren't they?

"Regardless of Thorn's intent, I feel the next steps key towards securing Alastor are to, firstly, see if this Kinch fellow is someone willing to listen to reason and, secondly, to make the next use of our teleportation to go visit those mercenaries. The people here are scared and we will make little headway without some assurance of military support for them." Cawmirth scoffed a bit. "It'd hardly be worth our while if we spent all week negotiating with a room full of representatives only to have a mob burst in and lynch them for blatantly going against their constituents' interests. The people do have a somewhat legitimate point in demanding professional soldiers if they are to remain loyal to Andoran."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Hey, Sebi, I'll pass until your post, since a) Thorn kicked the ball into your court (is that even an idiom?) and b) Cawmirth totally screwed the pooch on his negotiating gambit.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Gah! Post done 5 minutes after Sebi! Time to rewrite...

EDIT: My god, I was sandwiched in! 3 posts in the span of ten minutes!

Ah well, I guess I'll let it stand.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth, for most of Thorn's recitation of excuses and misgivings, betrayed little but the kind of stand-offish distance of one who didn't quite have the natural tact to show subtle hints of commiseration and sympathy. It was only when Thorn finally turned to pinching his nose and begging some understanding that Cawmirth even shifted his posture, shoulders rolling forward a bit and leathery claws spreading out as the man shifted the subject to the resident rabble-rouser.

Not that Cawmirth planned to let the head of the council have that breathing room.

"It's alright, sir." His voice came, slow and reassuring. "Sometimes, a man is put in a situation above his own abilities. Good men most often of all. And, from the sounds of things, you are one truly good man. It would have taken a political genius to navigate these troubled tides. Rest easy, rest easy. Lady Moncrief is just one such rising star when it comes to politics of Almas."

The tengu turned his attention back to the lady, the comforting softness shifting into something a bit more businesslike. "Sincere men like Thorn are as rare as hen's teeth in this world. It is a condemnation of the times we live in that his words would fall on deaf ears and that a demagogue like Kinch could so quickly take control of the political dialogue in the city. As the old Mwangi proverb goes, 'Honesty lives in an empty house.' Though, it does seem things are a bit more out of control than we imagined..."

Cocking his head back a bit, the raven seemed to realize something. As if he read a hidden plea in Thorn's words, something the councilman hoped to communicate, if only indirectly. "...are you in danger of losing control of the city? Your military reserves exhausted, a charismatic secessionist working the people like a conductor, and without an ally or supportive voice in the council; there is no shame in saying when things have gone past the point you can guide them on your own."

Cawmirth is trying to force Thorn's hand a bit by feigning the belief that he's simply in over his head: admit to being overpowered or reveal the extent of the forces loyal to him. Since it's not explicitly a use of bluff, diplomacy or intimidate, um... I'll let you decide what/how/if a roll is warranted?

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Granted such quick access to Thorn through the presence of their honor guard and quickly given priority over the other petitioners, it was easy enough for Cawmirth to take on a certain pretentious air as Sebi's companion. He lifted a curled claw, nodding a bit to Thorn's warm welcome. "Lady Moncrief is, as I'm sure you're aware, a woman of duties equal in weight to the status carried by her august family name. Though her position would ordinarily demand a certain degree of deference, it might be best to put aside pleasantries in the interest of expediency."

He cocked his yellowish, watery eye, having no eyebrow per se, but able to fluff the feathers well enough the gesture remained familiar. Staring with the kind of rude officiousness that the petty clung to in executing their duties. He then turned his attention back to Sebi, bowing his back and inclining his head respectfully. No words were given, simply a show of humility before her, that he spoke only under her authority and she had no need to restrain herself in conducting their investigation into the situation and learning from Thorn how they might best be of assistance.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Hey guys, sorry I've been having my own difficulty with regular posting! As we approach the end of the term, the amount of grading and other bits of take-home work is pretty heavy (in addition to some other paperwork I've had to go get from the government to change schools).

Posting now and, while I know I signed up for once a day, I'll be doing my best to manage that or once every two. Sorry for the inconvenience! I should be clear in two weeks, at least.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

To address your strategy post, Alysandra, I think proceeding with the original plan sounds good, too. Thorn's likely to be the person who would be best able to tell us exactly how he's falling short in terms of rallying the council to his side (at least, from his own perspective) and Alysandra's likely peculiarly well-suited to figuring out what's going on with Ossok Horn.

Being largely blind to the others, I do love making (sometimes wildly inaccurate, if my recent guesses about Game of Thrones are any indication...) predictions, so I'll throw out my preliminary thoughts.

Forsyth Erekiar: If Erekiar starts to drift, I'm guessing he'll be a council-member most vulnerable to a straight roleplay approach. We're in a situation where a well-respected man has shirked his military duty and now threatens the whole realm and I'm guessing that'd be a key point to hammer on if he needs some convincing.

Lysander Poolt: Do you guys remember that big sack of change we got at the outset? If my guess is correct, we'll occasionally have opportunities to money our way out of problems when our skill checks and planning fail us. While we may have opportunities to get this guy without spending anything, I'm guessing he's a bit of a fail-safe (though, it'd mean we wouldn't have those resources down the road).

Aurissa the Blind: I have no idea. Given how hands-off and fate-oriented Pharasma and her priests come across in Inner Sea Gods and the Ustalav book, it's hard to imagine her being easily swayed by argumentation or bribery from a religious perspective alone.

Ossok Horn: OOC? This is the guy I have pegged as somehow being compromised. From an espionage standpoint, corrupting the opposing officers is the fastest way to ensure an invasion works (it got the Manchus past the Great Wall and ended the Ming dynasty). How the hell can you not have a strong position on an imminent invasion?!

Jain Kinch: I'm banking on Jain being at worst self-interested and at best, honestly concerned about his community. The war with Taldan's on the other side of the country and Alastor's giving and getting nothing back. Cawmirth's actually rather sympathetic to his position, as it's generally been stated. Not that personal sympathy's going to stop Cawmirth from trying putting the kibosh on this secession talk.

Anyway, those are just my guesses! Also, to our esteemed GM, I'm with Alyssandra in terms of not really wanting to step on any toes. I'm quite excited about the game, but at times, I don't want to jump right into conversations when it seems like there are quite a few cooks already in the kitchen.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Occupying himself mostly with the food, Cawmirth had made good time and none too appetizing display as he pecked and gobbled at his chosen morsels. Much as he found the endless mastication of humans a bit unpleasant, it was likely hard to have one's appetite dampened by the jerking, rapid bobs of his head as he ate, only pausing to give thoughtful nods to the gnome's testimony.

"Hm... well, it sounds a bit like our poor friend Thorn is trying to dig a hole in sand. Heh!" Glancing over at his companions as they began to ready themselves to depart, Cawmirth followed suit, pushing out his chair with a bit of a squeak and a shuffle. "It was a pleasure eating your food. I hope I'll have another chance to do so, assuming we aren't seized and lynched by a mob of angry separatists." Cawmirth flippantly offered to their host in Gnomish as he got up.

"As for us, it seems we have to determine where we'll be going first..." That commented, while not explicitly directed, came with a long, circling stare at the other three. Really, the initial plan to meet with Thorn still seemed a fine one, but his companions might have seized on a piece of information Cawmirth passed over while he'd been seizing berries in his beak.

In any case, he'd be walking along with the others and seeing if anyone wanted to make changes to the plan they'd discussed before teleporting.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Though he did have a few gnomish colleagues (and had spent the time to master the tongue), Cawmirth lagged a bit behind the others when it came to accepting their host's invitation. The energy, the exuberance, the tendency towards a somewhat scattered and eclectic style; for a fellow committed to a somewhat dry, mocking view of the world, such forthrightness was almost a bit distasteful.

Despite being something of a teetotaler, Cawmirth eyed the jug of wine as Onario laid out the situation here in Alastor, the raven getting nicely comfortable in his chair.

The quick comment from their more martially inclined companion took Cawmirth's attention away from distracting himself with alcohol. Even if his beak was not so expressive as a mouth, his narrowed eyes made it clear he didn't much like the notion of judging so quickly this fellow. Perhaps he was some two-faced cultist, or he might have simply been a liberty-minded ideologue frustrated with a war that took lives and bread and yielded little to the vale.

"My friend Callista here is always one to quickly get to the point." The bird gingerly took up a fork, putting a small slice of ham in his beak and swallowing it whole. "I'm rather curious to know whether anyone else on the council is being turned by his rhetoric. This being a democratic system and all, it is easy enough for men to fear losing their seats when hysteria grips the people..."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth was likely a bit more ginger in his hand-holding than the others, given the natural sharpness of his talons. A lack of inclination towards physical intimacy left him noticing how very long it had been since he'd held anyone's hand. And then they all bent their way across space and time, the bird letting out a groan the moment they arrived.

Whatever it was they'd just done, Cawmirth wasn't very eager to do it again any time soon.

He was quick to break his grasp on Sebi, rubbing a curled claw at one eye to make that lingering, blinding flash depart with as much haste as possible. "Cawmirth Ravenheart, Professor of Linguistics, chosen to oversee the drafting of any contracts, agreements, pacts or treatises made under the authority of the Supreme Elect. Oh, I'm a chronicler, too." He noted with a bit of feigned surprise, like he'd almost forgotten it.

His eyes were quite well fixed on that owl, idly wondering what exactly was inside it. Cawmirth did so love taking apart contraptions and devices and putting them back together again.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Uncharacteristically quiet for the long discussion that went back and forth, the personages of Alastor and various strategies for approaching them flying, Cawmirth simply made himself something of a quiet, but affirmative listener, nodding his head here and there. Pre-occupied as he was, the frequency of intricate debates in his line of work lent him a certain talent for pondering and hearing at the same time.

At Callista's slight prodding, he came to life a bit, glancing to Sebi for a long moment before returning his gaze to Callista. "Much as I usually prefer to keep varied company, I like the sound of this Kinch fellow. It would be good to have a passionate populist that we can use to get mass appeal on our side." For all his penchant for verbosity, Cawmirth tended to enjoy being around the less intellectually inclined. It had all the same frustrations and bother of childhood, but recalled a certain nostalgic sense of martyrdom and isolation.

You're just one of a kind, Topkek.

"Then again, if you don't plan on visiting Jain Kinch, I might as well go with Sebi. Thorn will no doubt be a key part of this whole affair and as the chronicler of our noble, just, and entirely respectable mission…" His intonation shifted to place an unsubtle emphasis on those two words to Callista, who was a bit unrelenting in this femme fatalery.

"I could stand to be present for the meeting with the head councilor if you'd rather not meet with the resident rabble-rouser."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Unlike humans and their naked, flabby bodies so well-disposed to being washed with an absolutely unnecessary amount of water, Cawmirth needed little more than a soapy cloth and a damp one to give his feathers the proper washing and rinsing. It was quick and convenient and something of a matter of pride.

But then, being something of a lone minority, a trinket in his every interaction, he clung to those superior traits as a man ship-wrecked to a piece of flotsam.

Cawmirth, never one to be in a rush unless it was to escape brigands, monsters or guardsmen, comported himself with the unhurried ease of a man of tenure as he arrived at Callista's residence, finding a lively discussion already underway. Strategy about how to go about their business in Alastor. It was an important thing to discuss of course, and one he was happy to give them the leeway to hammer out to their full satisfaction.

For the bird, the notion hidden between the lines of that diary that Opus was somehow less than whole-heartedly involved in this Order of the Cypress was not an easily stomached one. It wasn't that he'd died gruesomely that weighed on his thoughts, but that the man, by a rash decision here and there, had flung his soul to eternal torment. Cawmirth knew the impetuousness of youth. He worked with them every day. It was easy enough to imagine his own students in a similar predicament.

"Yes, well, if anyone can find a way into his head, or around it, I'm sure you're the lady for the job." Cawmirth interjected, euphemism unable to disguise his own mild sense of disgust thinking of the underlying human anatomical function referenced by his crude pun.

"I'm sure you all will be able to craft a masterful approach to beguiling, cajoling and variously drawing the councilors to Andoran's defense. The only thing I have to add is to be careful. Kasoval's transformation was one that would have been completed in a mere 24 hours, and which was begun by the ritual signing of three diabolical contracts. Contracts which were taken from his abode. Whomever you speak with, in whatever capacity you interact with them, be mindful that there are yet members of this conspiracy active in Almas and potentially anywhere else we visit." Cawmirth paused, weighing whether to speak on the shift in Kasoval's writing. The change in its common characteristics. He glanced over at the knight whose sword had cut through the man who had, granted, posed a threat. Perhaps it was better to let it lie until they had their next interaction with one of these Cypressians.

"That's all I have to add. I'll leave the diplomacy to the diplomats."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Few would object to being addressed as "Master". But, Cawmirth was a rare bird. He didn't really make any attempt to hide his annoyance at the title Lavinia addressed him with. After all, he didn't spend all those years studying simply to be called a Master of his art. He was a Abadar-damned doctor!

But that annoyance didn't stop him from at least accepting his obligation to be the thinking man of the group. "Yes, well, I suppose I am the only one properly educated to make sense of things here. Though, this flat is hardly conducive to study, even if it weren't for the cor-gah!." Cawmirth got the diaries and assorted papers from an only just visible Callista. For all his love of sneaking up on people, he hadn't really, up to now, thought much about how annoying it must have been.

At least Sebi offered to lend a hand. Not that he needed it (his aloof posture, beak lifted high suggested as much), but he could at least appreciate the thought. "A fine thing that your status hasn't predisposed you against getting a bit of dirt under the old fingernails!" Cawmirth glanced down at the gore spattered over the floorboard. "...or blood, as the case may be. Well, let's get down to it, shall we?"

The bird reached into his haversack and proceeded to draw out a copious collection of reference books and materials, including a massive, ancient slab of granite elucidating the intricacies of ancient Osirian grammar. He was practically carrying a small library in there!

Linguistics: 10 + 26 + 2 + 3 = 41
Knowledge Planes: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 2 + 2 = 15
Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 16 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 16 + 2 = 20
Knowledge History: 1d20 + 16 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 16 + 2 + 2 = 29
Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 2 + 2 = 22

While he was happy to share some insights here and there as they'd gleaned what they could from the diary and a closer analysis of the writings on the walls, as their investigation was drawing to a close, Cawmirth raised a clawed little hand. "As much as I'd like to discuss our thoughts at more length, it is devilishly late. I'm sure we can continue our little discussion once our less intellectually inclined companions are present, don't you agree?"

Whether she did or not, Cawmirth would offer some perfunctory gracious words and shuffle his feathered butt back home to get some sleep. His habits of breaking and entering at night meant that he was particularly aware of how deliciously nice it was to sleep at night and not have to work through the morning twilight.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

In contrast to his usually chatty self, the raven remained silent for a good few seconds after Sebi's interrogation ended, a look of focused, intent concentration on his face. The spell finished before Kasoval had said his piece, his sentence left unfinished. An erinyes whose hold on her father was such that she...

As an investigator and chronicler of the hidden secrets of Golarian, that kind of half-uttered idea sent the tengu's mind into a flurry of possibilities. As a hack scribe of penny dreadfuls and bodice-rippers when he was young, that kind of half-uttered idea sent the tengu's mind into a flurry of other possibilities, too.

"Well, then!" Cawmirth squawked, with the kind of inappropriate volume and abruptness that would suggest he was interrupting someone. "While our leads may have largely run dry, unless we can draw anything of use out of our friend's writings, I do believe we are faced with yet another task whose urgency outstrips its connection to our mission."

Straightening himself up a little and assuming a somewhat more dignified mien, Cawmirth lifted one claw in echo of the ancient rhetoriticians of Azlant. "For master and novice alike, preparation is the difference between success and failure." In any crime or burglary, Cawmirth wisely omitted. "The favored motto of my rookery's great elder. With Lady Moncrief's well-conducted interrogation, I imagine we have a good sense of what we are getting into, and the possible opposition we face. Unfortunately, we are not working alone."

Cawmirth turned his attention to Lavinia, considering she was somewhat closer to the military structure of Andoran than the rest of her cohort. "The Golden Sky left for the Iron Keep this morning, with orders to infiltrate it. If we take it that the Undersecretary told us the great bulk of what she knew about the situation with Lord Junsar, which I believe is a safe assumption to make, we can also assume that the Golden Sky prepared to thwart a seditious general and not a demon possessed of powers of great suggestion. When you go into a house looking for a hidden safe, you won't tend to look for jewels sown into clothes in the wardrobe. The analogy came a bit too readily, Cawmirth clearing his throat and simply pointing out. "A plot point in a novel I'm working on, as an example..."

"My point is..." Cawmirth returned to his rather lofty manner, his hands moving like a conductor, trained as he was in the art of the chironomia. "Captain, if you have any means to securely contact the Golden Sky so that they might trust the message, they must be warned. If they have made haste, and Kirilli has acted quickly, it may be too late. The Undersecretary suggested the possibility that the Golden Sky might be defeated. A blow to the nation, but heroes often meet their deaths defending their people. If the Golden Sky are subverted, however... I am hard-pressed to imagine an event that could be more damaging to the morale of the people, short of the Supreme Elect himself turning traitor to Cheliax."

Of course, though he hoped there was some protocol for this kind of situation, Cawmirth knew how infiltration and missions of stealth usually operated. It was likely enough that the Golden Sky would be impossible to reach until they returned from the Iron Keep. But he liked the sound of his own voice, and the logic was sound enough, so he indulged his predilection to lecture and be the longest beard in the room.

Dark Archive

1 person marked this as a favorite.
38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

To add to the mutual thanks and congratulations (though, there is little I can say that Alysandra's player hasn't already put beautifully), I'll just say that this is a wonderful confluence of excellent writing ability and storytelling on our DM's part, along with a similar quality of prose and good balance of narrativism and gamism from the players.

That is, we're all playing well fleshed out, interesting characters and touch on the conflicts that can come out of those, but at the same time, it seems we're all being good team players in the way our characters can.

Really, this game is quite a delight, and I'm as curious as any to see where our mission takes us. Though, I'm a bit curious as to whether we took a detour Phil wasn't expecting or if he was hoping we'd pick up on clues and go after this Order of the Cypress early on.

If that question is far too metagamey or digs into your plans, I'm happy to just wait until we get to the end of the campaign to find out!

Also, to Alysandra... the Woody Allen comparison is one I hadn't thought of, but it's really quite apt! Thank you!

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

One moment, you're teasing the diabolically seduced bard who just slipped out of his bag o' chains and the next, you're looking at a pile of guts that just had countless lengths of chain skitter and slurp their way right back into (what was left of) his body.

Cawmirth blinked twice, then glanced back up at Lavinia, having been caught entirely flat-footed there. "Err... I ought to thank you for that. You are quite quick on the draw, I must say..." Glancing back down at their rather lifeless suspect, Cawmirth hopped back up, stretching a bit to regain his previous comfort level after hunching down next to him.

Much as he liked to think of himself as a man of great knowledge and varied learning, there wasn't much mundane talents could do at this point. With a glance towards Sebi, and a mind toward asking if she had any training that might be applicable, Cawmirth saw she was already vomiting forth ectoplasm. "Ah, I see you... have this covered."

Cawmirth made the calculated decision to stay very close by the Captain's side from now on, given how fast that bastard sword had snicker-snacked. "I must say, I'm glad we decided to take our time in the capital. I hate to imagine the welcoming Mr. Opus would have given us had we arrived after our little expedition..." His voice was low, meant not to interrupt Sebi, though he did occasionally glance here and there, wondering what Callista was yet up to.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

As the chains burst from around the figure, dumping it to the ground like so much poorly tenderized meat, Cawmirth put a talon over his eyes, sighing with some frustration, "Did you have to? Oh dear..." He struggled for words, a rare enough thing, but… well, actually, he was just relieved that the thing hadn't turned into an encounter. He wasn't quite ready to start rolling initiative.

After a momentary pause, Cawmirth peeked out from behind his claw. Ugh, so much… flesh. And blood. It didn't have a visceral effect on him, given all the stabbings he'd been involved with, but he had to keep up appearances, you know? Cawmirth fussed and squirmed a bit longer, the whole act rather poorly done to be honest, before he felt like he'd given everyone a sufficient show.

"You all may have noticed, but it seems Kasoval is something of a victim here. Or at least of two minds regarding this… ah… makeover of his. Let's see if we can't help the more reasonable one, hm?" Speaking to the assembled women for a moment, Cawmirth shifted over to the slumped, bloody figure, careful to avoid the gore on the floor with his boots.

"Well hello there, friend. It looks like you've seen better days, eh?" Cawmirth chuckled with a friendliness that didn't really suggest he was talking to a naked, shivering man impaled, torn, and infused with every painful barb and spike imaginable. Part of that tone was just Cawmirth trying to dig up some knowledge of what on earth this guy could be turning into, and what he might need to kill it, if it came to that. Nice coffee table thoughts.

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

"You're in good hands, you're in good hands… but what on earth were you thinking? Hanging yourself up like a piece of smoking meat, bleeding everywhere, psychotic scribbles on the wall… that's no way to get back your deposit." He hoped to see how well this fellow could speak, if at all. Cawmirth certainly didn't relish breaking out the Infernal to talk with whatever Kasoval was on the way to becoming.

Dark Archive

1 person marked this as a favorite.
38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

For anyone who wasn't literate in Infernal, Cawmirth's responses to the poetry scrawled over the walls were likely not very encouraging. A bit of muttering here. A scoff there. Until he came to the end of the poem, glanced over his shoulder back at the thing, and then to the writing once more. "...well, isn't that just wonderful." The sarcasm dripped from his raspy throat as he kept himself well next to the wall and scooted back towards the door.

"In literary analysis, literalism tends to be frowned upon, but I think our dear Mr. Opus was probably not being purely figurative when he wrote to the Lady of Pain to wrap him in chains so that he might be free of his mortal flesh and assume a form immune to the ravages of time. Of course, perhaps this was all just symbolic of crossing from the land of the living to that of the dead and we merely have a deluded artist's corpse wrapped up in chains, dangling before us..." His tone made it clear, even if that was the case, he didn't feel it was very wise to assume so.

Tapping that sharp talon at the side of his beak, Cawmirth did his best to avoid being overly prolix. A hard thing to do, but then again, getting eaten alive by some human/demon hybrid would likely be even more unpleasant than simply editing his words. "If any of you have some experience with fighting demons or are equipped with the means to do so, by all means, we can release our friend here. Being neither, I... ah... might recommend we find the authorities and return with specialists. This man being a known member of the Order of the Cypress with a warrant out for his arrest, and our mission having the direct support of the Undersecretary, I'd say we would have little trouble enlisting their aid. Besides, he's likely been there for quite some time..." He wasn't so impolitic to directly refute Captain Lavinia, but Cawmirth was pretty much implicitly suggesting "Oh, we very much can leave it hanging like that for the time being."

It may have been about the least adventurous thing one could possibly suggest, but Cawmirth's brand of adventure tended to follow a less than spontaneous pattern: research location, proceed to location avoiding danger if at all possible, collect information from location, return home, write books. Right now, Cawmirth was dutifully observing his second step.

"Also, where on earth did Callista go off to?" Having been involved in his reading, that chant to the goddess had been mere background noise to his ears.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Letting the others take the lead inside, as Cawmirth had little desire to charge in on what had heretofore sounded like a rather unpleasant inhabitant of the room, Cawmirth sidled on in once the others proved their own valor before his.

Seeing the blood drenched, writhing figure, the academic was beginning to reconsider this chronicling job.

Callista's sidelong question to the professor was answered with the kindest and most well-intentioned of snarks. "Oh, yes, let me just recall that higher level seminar on eldritch abominations of otherworldly suffering I took while I was getting my doctorate in linguistics. Feel free to inspect it, but I imagine it would be unwise to actually touch the thing before I've had a chance to inspect these walls..."

The bird then turned his attention to the writing all about the room. If it was infernal, as he expected it to be, or some poorly literate variation thereof, things would all be in their proper place. If it was Abyssal, though... well, he'd no doubt be able to puzzle it out, but that didn't really bode well for them. First, of course, was to make sure this wasn't some mind-melting, helter-skelter kind of ramblings, unsafe for mortal consumption.

Perception to Search for Magical Traps: 1d20 + 15 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 15 + 2 + 1 = 19

Linguistics to Decipher Script, Take 10: 10 + 26 = 36

Of course, if it's Infernal, uh... he can just read that.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Whoops! I didn't see this until my post was already up.

In this case, since I'm after the edit window, can I just have Cawmirth suggest a bit more subtlety in how they go about this and hold off on the lock picking and trapfinding just yet?

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Despite the rather horrific nature of the thing inside, Cawmirth didn't miss a beat. "Wrapped in chains you say? Well... I suppose that's evidence enough we have the right apartment. This Order of the Cypress is rather well known for their peculiar tastes..."

Cawmirth's suggestion to simply get the landlord seemingly ignored, it looked like his companions were getting ready for a fight. Not that he didn't think it'd be interesting, but what with the people passing to and fro, it seemed better to approach this a bit more like officials than ruffians.

Just like Sebi's post, much of this assumes the door is locked and doesn't just open when she turns the knob.

"If we're not going to simply ask the rentier to let us in, we can certainly be more circumspect about things. Hmph... how fortunate for us I apprenticed under a locksmith in my youth. Lady Moncrief, Callista, Captain if you might like to give me some room? I would be much obliged if you all did your best to look stern and guard-like."

If the assembled few did, in fact, give Cawmirth the space to work, he'd get up to the door and do his thing, first taking a moment to inspect the door's handle and key-hole for any indication of a trap. After either discovering whatever might be ready to poison/burn/slash or deep fry an intruder or blindly missing it, Cawmirth proceeded to fetch tools from the secret compartment in his boots and arrange himself as close to the door as possible before quietly getting down to business...

Perception (Trapfinding): 1d20 + 15 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 15 + 2 = 34

I'm assuming, since it's late, the ambient light is dim. If there are enough street lamps and things like that to make it normal lighting instead, Cawmirth takes his darklight lantern out of his haversack and lights it up (darks it up?) to get things nice and dim enough for a stealth check.

Stealth: 1d20 + 15 - 1 ⇒ (13) + 15 - 1 = 27

Disable Device: 1d20 + 13 + 2 - 1 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 13 + 2 - 1 + 2 = 31

If you want to just roll some of these on your own table, given that they're normally rolled secretly, I'm totally okay with that, too.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

When it came to the extended arm from Callista, Cawmirth reciprocated with a hesitant "Ehhhh…" before giving a staccato shake of his head. He preferred not to suggest any sort of impropriety, least of all because he was having enough trouble with his overtures to the local tengu elders for them to make him a match. He hardly needed their nosy apprentices catching whiff of him being overly familiar with humans.

"It's not you, it's me." With that persistent flattery, though, he couldn't stay entirely standoffish, getting a bit of a lift to his step when the subject of his knowledge was raised. "If you find such subjects fascinating, though, I suppose I could let you know about the differences in grammar to be found in the various regions of the Tian people…"

And so it went, at least, when they weren't directly gathering information about their prey. When it came time to press pump people for information, Cawmirth asked a question here or there, but mostly presented a rather quiet air, letting Callista take the lead. Between those conversations, she got a nice chat about the similar vocabularies and differing grammar of the various Tian dialects.

…after quite a long journey hither and thither, mostly without any hint of a lead, Cawmirth was quite ready to give up after Asim's. So ready to give up, even the reward of some information wasn't quite enough to make him more interested in immediately following up on Kasoval, rather than the wraps he so enjoyed. Sadly, Cawmirth's gustatory inclinations were not to be indulged, as Sebi and Lavinia arrived before he'd even had time to settle on something from the board menu hanging from the Keleshite's cart.

And just like that, Callista's playful attentions were directed toward Sebi. Cawmirth hadn't really wanted them, but bereft of them, he felt just a bit pricked. That didn't stop him from scurrying along with the trio, a long, wistful look thrown over his shoulder at the skewered, grilled meat and vegetables they left behind.

"At least as far as Kasoval is concerned, it seems likely he has left Almas altogether. In your search, did you find any indication that the others may still be about?" Recalling that the Undersecretary had put out a warrant for the whole order, Cawmirth's hopes that they'd be able to interrogate any member of this little fraternity were fading fast.

"Shall I go find a landlord or attendant to unlock the door for us?" He suggested in a helpful manner, mostly looking for an excuse to return to Asim and get his hands on one of those fragrant wraps.

Sorry about the long wait! Thesis defenses were today.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Cawmirth had thought that Callista was the nut he had yet to crack when it came to the "Why was this person chosen by the Supreme Elect?" game. An unanswered question that made him quite happy to be suggested as her companion, though her reason for suggesting it was hardly flattering. Still he just gave a helpless shrug. You don't spend your whole academic life as the one blatantly "animalistic" faculty member in the room without coming to grips with the stares and backhanded remarks.

Oh yes, Cawmirth was already thinking of ways to try to subtly get at Callista's reason for being chosen.

Or, well, he would have been if Sebi hadn't started oozing protoplasm from her mouth and calling forth the unnatural whispering of the restless through the veil that separated the quick and the dead. That beak popped right open, gawking in an artless "…what the hell am I looking at?" expression for a good three seconds before glancing back to the merchant and suddenly feeling… far less intrigued.

Still, at least she was the second highest on his list of mysterious companions! As much as it seemed the captain had an interest in a bit of verbal sparring with the merchant, she was otherwise rather obvious in her qualifications. "Yes, well, I suppose we ought to be parting ways…" Cawmirth grunted to the queen bee with a glance her way.

It wasn't a terribly long glance, though, through no fault of Callista's. Magical girl transformation sequences are just rather eye-catching. As armor turned to diaphanous gown and the woman's very physique became more glamorous, Cawmirth didn't even physically react beyond a flat, almost annoyed look.

"I am neither a sir nor a fine escort. But we shall be off. He let out a soft, defeated sigh as he turned and shuffled along with Callista, characteristically utterly inconsiderate in the complete absence of any "goodbye" or "farewell" to the two who would be taking the high road that evening.

Callista Jeggare:
Those thoughtful glance likely caught Cawmirth's undisguised stare as he wondered if Callista would take this opportunity to sprout goat legs or reveal herself a transexual or find some way or another to upstage the two they'd just left behind at the Hall of Reliquaries. He was just about ready to let down his guard. But not quite.

"The role I'm going to be playing is the tengu professor out of his element. And you're going to be the mysterious woman who was so charmed by his wit and poise…" Cawmirth paused in his shuffling gate, turning his head and to give a abrupt, phlegmy clearing of his throat. "…that she revealed all her secrets to him before taking him to all the naughty places she goes to."

He walked along a bit longer in complete silence, not even changing that eyeballing he'd been giving her non-stop until he just chose to glance away. "In all seriousness, I have little interest in either being anyone but myself or carousing. If we find any of these artists, and they may not even still be in Almas at all, I imagine I am just as likely to be of use as Cawmirth as I am pretending to be some other, far less intelligent and accomplished tengu. People tend not to bat an eye when Professors indulge in some bizarre intellectual fixation, nor be surprised when they need someone with some actual social acumen to help finding a way to indulge it."

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

It totally makes sense! I was, in fact, just thinking about that kind of situation. Obviously it'd be almost totally useless in anything close to combat or with people who'd just slap Cawmirth in the face if they felt he was talking too long. I suppose the one thing I could hope for is just some cues as to situations that might be like that.

Also, to all my fellow players... the love is reciprocal. Totally awesome PbP going on and the interaction is what makes it.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

You mentioned that, in using the Orator feat, Cawmirth would need to actually "orate". Was the length of Cawmirth's self-effacing monologuing there enough to merit being able to use the feat?

I'm trying to feel it out in the kind of friendly, no-stakes rolling we're doing now, and have a good sense for when I'll be able to use it by the time it might be meaningful.

Dark Archive

1 person marked this as a favorite.
38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Even without the ability to smile, there were other hints as to Cawmirth's delight at being (rightly) heeded and deferred to: the way his jutting, hunched head lifted up with hubristic pride, the slow, weaving pattern of his talons within his sleeves, the soft, wheezing chuckle from deep within his throat.

"I have no idea whatsoever." He admitted, with blithe indifference. "What can be gleaned from books and records has its limit. So long as what you seek is within those limits, I am more than capable of providing a wealth of information to you. But when it comes to the information that must be gleaned by rubbing shoulders and making good use of one's feet, the reconnaissance of the tongue rather than that of the written word, what possible use could a professor be, eh? This hunched old Cawmirth has done what he can, and all that he can, in the pursuit of these clues." He shook his head a bit, his body not quite so eloquent in its expression of humility as the art of his words.

"For the moment, I believe, those the Undersecretary named as our head negotiators might be best suited to digging up clues as to where these individuals are in Almas, if they are still in Almas at all." He first turned his attention to Sebi, bowing low, such that his ill-postured little frame seemed ready to fall over itself all together. "My lady Moncrief, as the patriarch of your family, I am certain you have long had to truck with the wealthy and powerful of Almas. Those we seek are artists by trade, and artists one and all are in need of patrons to continue their work. I believe you would be quite well suited to approaching those members of your fellow elite in order to see if any have commissioned or even heard much of our three individuals."

At that point, he swiveled, still bowed rather low, a gesture that lithely maintained that bent, decrepit posture. A bit of a slip it was, graceful in its clumsiness as his lowered head pointed to Callista. Whom he knew little about but for appearance. But appearance was enough. "Callista, though your background yet eludes me, my... ah... awareness of the nightly habits of my students lets me know well enough you have the fashion and poise to easily go among the trend-setters and pleasure seekers of our city. While artists depend on powerful families for their coin, it is the vibrant, avant-garde glitterati of our city who provide them with the reputation to be chosen from among all the scribes and performers jostling for reputation. What man could possibly resist your allure in seeking out our... ah... friends?" He faltered a bit in his flattery, frankly finding the fleshiness of all of his companions somewhat repulsive; though born and raised in an overwhelmingly human city, the fundamental attractiveness of black, glossy feathers and the deep sense of sickness at the thought of exposed flesh was something no amount of cultural understanding would wipe away.

Cawmirth was traveling with three naked mole-rats, as far as his personal eye for beauty was concerned.

"There being four of us, I imagine the Captain and I may as well each accompany one of you. I don't presume to speak for the sword among us, but I can't imagine we will, in tonight's search be of terribly great help. We are looking for artists, not bandits or killers, so the talents of a soldier are likely not very well needed. And, as for me, my talents as a reader of books and collector of esoteric knowledge expended, I have little more I can offer but my companionship and support. As the Undersecretary so succinctly put it, I have been given the honor of working with you three as a chronicler with a keen eye for the critical language of contracts and agreements. Outside of the realm of ideas and thoughts, the ivory towers and libraries of my alma mater, I am figuratively and literally, a mere flightless bird in the presence of soaring eagles. Given the meagerness of my own limited talents, I can only beg the captain's protection, the matriarch's grace, and the lady's... er... talents."

Cawmirth realized he'd really have to dig into what the hell Callista was doing here so he could more smoothly make use of his flattery.

Linguistics to Lie/Conceal Information: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (11) + 26 = 37 Oh, I am merely an NPC Expert. Please don't expect me to be as useful or heroic as you dashing PCs are. Be easy on the poor old Tengu.

Dark Archive

1 person marked this as a favorite.
38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Sorry for the double post, but I'm loving all the flavor and detail you're packing into these posts, Phil. I think everyone will be quite lucky when this adventure finishes, just to have the chance to read through all your spoilers.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Though addressed quite directly by the captain, Cawmirth didn't seem uncomfortable at all with the quick shift in attention. In fact, he lifted his head a bit, the lids of his bulbous, unseemly eyes dipping down to leave them half-lidded in thought. The look of one considering very carefully how best to articulate his findings. His sleeve lifted, and a black, shiny talon tapped (once, twice, thrice...) at the side of his beak, until he'd found just how to answer Lavinia's question.

"Yes."

His eyes opened back up, though without any particular emphasis or focus, simply regarding the Captain as if he'd been asked something as ordinary as the breakfast he'd had that morning. And then Cawmirth turned his attention, with the unshakable nonchalance of one secure in his tenured position, to the Moncrief matriarch.

"Your judgement is quite astute, my lady. Alastor does, indeed, seem the most immediately valuable potential ally in the region. As much as "Common Rule" may be based on the notion that each individual has a right of determination, there is a certain gravity that comes with being supported by a great population. Having the backing of the council there would likely be of some help in later negotiations. Though, despite the urgency of our mission, I might not counsel departing immediately..."

Satisfied that he'd made Lavinia wait long enough for her information, Cawmirth turned his attention back to the captain. He opened his mouth to speak, to finally reveal those tantalizing secrets, only to pause, blinking, and close his mouth, turning to Callista.

"Black and yellow. A striking combination. They say negotiators should focus on their words, but sight, they say, is the first of the human senses. Good on you to know how best to take advantage of it. Hmm."

He nodded once more, to himself more than anyone else, before smugly returning his attention to the captain. It was a childish little game he played, and one that seemed all the more common the older professors became. Oh, he wouldn't dream of not telling her. After all, then he wouldn't be able to flaunt his knowledge. But the anticipation made it all the more enjoyable.

"I hate to speak on a subject before I am certain, but when it comes to the art of textual analysis, there is always a certain imprecision that must be wrestled with. Lord Junsar's reports, and the copies of the replies to be sent to him, suggest that he and the higher echelons of our government did not always see eye to eye. Though, I think this was not, in fact, the motivating factor behind Lord Junsar's recent behavior... I have my notions as to what was, but I shan't conjecture without more evidence."

"I did a bit of personal research, as well, into some of the associates of Lord Junsar's kin. Which puts us in something of a predicament. We have, of course, been charged with organizing a defense in the west, and with all haste. The Golden Sky has been personally dispatched to deal with Lord Junsar, and as such, he is somewhat outside our authority. That being said, there are three individuals, Kasoval Opus, Wilshire Pomander, and Essea Yanas, who have been in Almas at times and who may know more precisely why Lord Junsar has betrayed his position. The evidence that would damn a traitor to his nation or exonerate a falsely accused man may be under our very noses..."

Cawmirth then simply shrugged his shoulders, falling once more into his nebbish, self-conscious physical habits. "Being an academic by trade, I would prefer, of course, to see this mystery unraveled, but... the burden of leadership was not placed on my shoulders." He seemed quite a different creature when he wasn't taken with an eloquent turn of phrase. Eyes evasive and flickering, Cawmirth cocked his head a bit to the side, curiously watching to see who'd be the first to dive for that golden apple he'd rolled out to the three.

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Okay, edited my post to throw in that linguistics check for you, Phil!

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

The Order of the Cypress, was it? Cawmirth let his head waggle from side to side a bit, a self-satisfied little gesture of intellectual smugness. It seemed what he'd heard about the daughter had a grain of truth to it. Something he'd hopefully have a chance to follow up before they had to depart Almas.

As to not being able to take a piece of correspondence to… analyze at length, Cawmirth lifted his talon up and gave it a bit of a shake, weakly pleading off, "Well, if we are in quite a hurry, I suppose I'll see what I can at a glance. It might not be of much use without… ah… my reference books." Whether it was simple protocol or the Undersecretary being aware of his more illicit talents, Cawmirth's discomfort about being outmaneuvered made itself known in a kind of swaying, hunched shifting he did as his voice fell into a defeated mumble.

When it came to the handing out of their specialized equipment for the task, Cawmirth even shifted back a bit. He often enlisted unlucky assistants to help him port things to and from the lecture hall and he had little interest in changing that habit today. How fortunate for him his companions nobly took up the burden themselves! Or, perhaps, more accurately nobly pre-empted one another from taking up the burden…

Oh, how Cawmirth loved to watch a good cat fight now and then!

Hiding his anticipatory glee, Cawmirth's red-rimmed eyes narrowed a bit in gratitude, his hands clasped together in appreciation to the Guard Captain. "An escort! My such an honor. With only three hours, I may… eh… focus my attentions on 'some preparations I must make at my residence. Packing, a bit of research, you understand…" Giving a brief nod to the captain and the matriarch each (that Lady Jeggare was a bit quick-footed for the old bird!) he first took the undersecretary up on her offer of glancing at the correspondence for anything that could be read between the lines of Lord Junsar's official reports back. After that? Well, it was time to head home and prepare!

Linguistics: 10 + 26 = 36 Totally abusing my Master Scribe class ability to take ten here.

But 3 hours? Really? That was hardly enough time to research a good day trip to the countryside, let alone a diplomatic mission. "Seberg, my strapping young lad, I'll need your assistance. I must do some vital preparation, research you see… and your patriotic duty is to see that haversack properly packed! Yes, Seberg had the rare honor of handling the tengu's (legitimate) possessions and tossing them in (with occasionally squawked supervision) while Cawmirth quickly consulted his library for some details on the Order of the Cypress. If he was to feign some sympathy with them, he'd have to at least show some familiarity with the degenerate art they'd produced, wouldn't he?

Knowledge (local?): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (11) + 16 = 27 This is more focusing on who is in the Order of the Cypress, famous works, etc. The kind of things you'd need to know to present oneself as appreciative of such a "school" of art.

Once Seberg finished with most of the packing (so… many… books!), Cawmirth would kick his ass back to the living room while he "changed". Like hell he'd have the guard pack his thieving tools, he'd handle those himself, thank you! And like any vain little bastard, that meant Seberg was made to wait for about an hour before the tengu saw fit to shuffle on out, outfitted in his chain shirt and various bits of magical adventuring gear, made to look like simple traveling clothes thanks to the hat of disguise.

Skipping along to their little rendezvous…

Coming to the fortress, it only took a moment for the tengu to spot his companions. Cawmirth shuffled on over to the captain and Lady Jeggare, Seberg alongside no doubt, but refrained from anything more than a polite, "Ladies…" mumbled to them. After all, they were talking! It certainly wouldn't do to interrupt that!

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

I quite enjoyed the long post! It gave us a nice little snippet about each place we'd be visiting, so we have more than just a list of names to go off of. Very well done!

Dark Archive

38/38 HP, Active conditions: none
Stats:
AC 19; touch 15; flat-footed 16 | F: +2; R: +8; W: +5 | CMD 16 | Init: +3 | Perception: +15

Long practiced in careful mental note-taking with a minimum of obvious reaction from all those thesis defenses he'd had to sit through, Cawmirth revealed little in his manner as the situation was laid out before them, and the various players their parts, except for the mention of the involvement of the Golden Sky. This, at least, brought a small, abrupt grunt from him.

Musing about what possible intrigues might have been swirling about regarding this Lord Junsar, and why he might have possibly chosen to defect, Cawmirth was quite eager to dig to the bottom of this little question. Hearing that Lord Junsar was merely an object and Golden Sky the subject of an already determined, and rather conclusive, verb couched into a very solidly punctuated sentence didn't sit well with that probing mind of his. Why would a respected war hero in his twilight years make a decision like this?

His musings didn't prevent him from keeping a good ear on the situation in the settlements, towns and locations they'd be visiting. Mercantile interests, a mercenary army, an authoritarian, some fanatics and a self-sufficient eldritch despot. That last one would be a hard nut to crack, and Cawmirth took a good bit of relief in not being the one addressed with that duty. When his much less prominent role was mentioned, he obligingly nodded to the undersecretary.

Protected by knights, with the weight of negotiation on the others' shoulders (and Callista seemingly quite eager to take on the duties put before her), Cawmirth felt rather pleased with the arrangement. He could take a nice subtle part in the background and make sure to have all the fine details of their patriotic mission writ down for posterity.

Cawmirth was no fool, but he certainly wasn't one to turn down flattery. "Oh, no need to be so modest. Even if you were perfectly competent in such fields, my expertise would be a great asset all the same. I'm delighted to have this opportunity to educate new minds and commit a new page to the history of Andoran." The slightly shrill, cawing chuckle that came from him just perfectly accented the self-important air that came so naturally to him, particularly so when his ego was massaged.

Turning off that repellently self-absorbed anti-charm for a moment, Cawmirth turned his attention to the Undersecretary. Questions? Oh ho ho…

"Undersecretary, in the course of our negotiations, I imagine we will be pressed for details about why the Iron Keep won't be able to serve its defensive purpose. To then say that Lord Junsar, a respected and aged war hero of our people, has turned against us would likely provoke even more questions. Could you tell us a bit more about the nature of the intelligence you've gathered? Perhaps a hint as to his motives? Are there sources inside the Iron Keep still loyal to us?" Cawmirth glanced to his companions after asking, hoping for the kinds of frowning, thoughtful nods that were obligatory when a good question was posed in his line of work.

After a short pause, he cleared his throat and helpfully added. "There is a great deal of hidden subtext that can be gleaned from a man's diction and choice of words, so if I could be granted leave to peruse, say, the last few pieces of official correspondence from the Iron Keep..." His voice trailed off suggestively, as Cawmirth hadn't the force of personality to stress the point.

1 to 50 of 57 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | next > last >>