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Was it something Awn said?
Awn smiles so wide his head almost cracks. "Tuar! My father! It is so good to see you!!! And mother, is she well?" To the question posed regarding Nyrissa Awn turns thoughtful. "We found a creature leading some kobolds that paid homage to such a name, but beyond that I know little. I think some of those personages we met at the Stag Lord's fortress may have known more and relayed their infornation to Abaos here. [here points at Abaos] "Maybe the one called Nugrah or the druid Bokken? I am terrible with details as you may remember father..."
Awn blinks good naturedly.
Awn distances himself from the faux-pas blooming before him. Like physically, actively, mentally, socially, spiritually and chronologically. Distances. Himself. ”Meheneth dir vai kell sian var deir?!” he rasps hoarsely in Elvish. “Elf-tongue”: ”I think these two are quite addled!?”
Awn smiles companionably at Guthruc's distress. He points out the elves oft-remarked and mythic fondness for bows. "Or, if you like, if your teeth get in their bones, you'll be stuck. Full of arrows."
Awn takes the homecoming in his avuncular stride, and takes great pains to introduce all of his new companions to all of his old, sparing none of either side his honest appraisals. Which is time consuming. And exhausting. And somewhat harrowing. For some. Others see the levity in honesty unguarded.
Suits me!
Awn feels a great sense of...something. Something definitely confusing, if not just confusion itself. Time has moved, and so has Awn, but returning to the Narl puts him out of phase, as if time itself has been taken and he with it, for to return feels like stepping back...in time. Or something. Confusing. Awn responds in his usual manner - he smiles a broad smile and hopes no one notices...anything.
Yeeees, well I make up all my character's "languages". I'll have to run the "dragonborn" I made up a few years back in an abandoned Sunless citadel game through google translate. Weirdly, to me, the four dimensional diaphragm makes a kind of sense, just not anything germane to the conversation Awn was trying to have at the time. But then, such is the burden of prophecy and haruspexia. Also: I only just remembered we had the satyr Rakgah with us!
Awn's smile is wearing so thin it almost isn't. His jaw...hurts. This is so incredibly interesting, and yet he feels it almost might not be if blood starts to spill everywhere or eating happens. "Somar - Tuar and Naia, my parents, are they well?"
Awn holds up a hand, as much a warning to his friends as a sign to his kin. He calls toward the forest in a loud clear simple voice in Common, as if addressing an army. "Somar! I am well. Be wary though, these I travel with are an incredibly dangerous and powerful group. Together, they...we... ended the Stag Lord and have built a nation of many creatures - humans, mites, kobolds, and at least one ogre - Auchs the Kind. " [here indicates Auchs]. "We travel now to the boggard lands to free them from infernal dominion." Awn smiles, then cups his hands to his mouth before adding in Elvish: "Tira po kal. Diath dinaan ko falais kerelembeta ti obma fa kanon. Fa, fa kanon." Elvish:
"Be very careful. The orc and dragon eat sentients and the group is crazy. Very, very crazy." Awn turns to his friends. "I've let them know we are not altogether logical and have interesting dietary requirements." And smiles.
I think I speak for all when I say it hasn't been the same without you. Because you weren't here. I was hoping against hope you would return - so here you are. Sending you and yours all the best.
Awn watches the reefclaws. "I am unsure that they are particularly ready for war, nor our band. Perhaps "riverine militia"? "Wardens of the mesic zone?" "Aquatic guard?" Awn looks to his companions. "Perhaps they stay here and guard this most tactical redoubt."
Awn crouches down by the water's edge and reaching in lets the liquid trickle through his fingers. Like magic flowing, the river sings... He looks up, his smile gone. A grim countenance. He calls to Auchs with unfeigned concern. "My burly friend. Is your kind nest harmed?"
Awn sees the bulky ogre fail to swim, or heck, even float. The seer moves a little closer, and holding his hands out toward the water, in a manner he has seen other spellcasters manage, casts a spell. Small motes of inflorescence creep from his midsection up his back down his shoulders and arms to the tips of his dendritic fingers as waves of causality wibble and wobble all timey-wimey.
.
That is a .... interesting way of minimising a compounding error by breaking it up into parts and then each one is even less a fraction of the whole as you add more, making each one slighter and slighter until WHAMMO, you've finally reached a negative error which means every additional day makes it better with each passing day!!! I thought I was mad, now you know I am too!!!
Awn watches the back and forth, but just can't seem to work out what could entice the Shadows to join their mad band. "If we, Shadows have offended, let us not tarry here. Alien they seem, Ozzy's shadow'd kind notwithstanding. Guthruc - Iorskan is correct - you cannot eat them, so how are they to be trusted? Let us move on say I?" the woodborn sings, clearly still affected by the orevious encounter with the Satyrs. Awn checks that the new Satyr is fitting in well with the group by giving him a big smile, made up mostly of wooden teeth.
I'm in a place with poor net-service, but should be back in a little over a day...
"Plan? I think the "plan" is to...move forward. To the Slough. For to foment the inciting of boggard rebellions. End tyranny. Bring peace. Murder food." Awn yawns, stretching his root-sinewy arms. He looks at the trees, the corpses, the blood. And nods. "Staying here seems nice, and you can go over the "plan" with Guthruc and Iorskan. You may lead Jen, now, but they are the driving force currently." Awn ends with his usual infuriating grin.
Awn gathers his wits, which doesn't take very long, and stands up. "Thanks Ozara! I almost became compost." The woodborn sheathes T'lass and looks around at all the "food" lying around and the food's weapons and equipment. One of the food seems to not be food. "Rakgah! I'm Awn. This is Ozara, Jen, Abaos, Akiros, lovely Auchs the Kind and your new best friends Guthruc and Iorskan. Think of them as your...guard..ians. Anura is Guthruc's disciple and somewhere around here is the old druid...Hmm. Nevermind. Welcome!" Awn finishes with his best smile. "So! Where were we? Oh, and Guthruc, did you by any chance not kill the cat?"
Awn remembers the first time this pair were a threatening intimidatory experience for a prisoner, back at Oleg's outpost. How things had...stayed the same.
Awn thanks Ozzy, then lies back, listening with great humor as Guthruc lays out the rights and wrongs of magic.
"Pkblup. Plurk. *Kloff* *Kloff*" Awn manages before taking a well earned sit-down. Strange bright and dark green ichorous fluid smatters and spatters his chest as his smile widens and he coughs more syrup. T'lass falls across his legs. "Abaos. We...won." he manages. The woodborn's eyes glaze before clarifying, as if he looks through time and fate to another world. "But we're losing you..."
Styrofogres!
Rent and torn Awn growls at the cannibal. Or fate. It's a weird sound, raspy and hollow. And altogether not-nice. Awn is Dark and Bright. He thinks quickly, if not cleverly. "Auchs, jump on the bad man. He will hurt your heart's nest!!!" Then moves to strike Surpex again. It's a last ditch effort. In a ditch. A high stakes gamble. With no stake. Abaos might be proud. There is much effort. Definitely a powerful swing. That bites dirt. Awn's smile falters ever so slightly.
I thought that was a movie with Leonardo Dicaprio and Cillian Murphy and ...oh wait, I haven't dreamed that yet.
Talk of eating elves and faeries causes Awn to erupt at the cannibal as he moves close to strike.
Awn's smile is fading as he tires of this wasteful energy. He too struggles with lords and titles, and does not wish to be reminded of his own internal strife. Easier to silence the herald of his confusion.
Awn grins and slices Surpex again, his hue deepening as he senses a mortal imbuement approaching... Standard Action: Cut!!! (+2 Str, +3 BAB, +1 enhancement, +2 second sight, -1 PA)
Awn weighs fate, and measures gravity and checks the balance. The cannibal is rising. Surpex is down. Awn can be down with that. And with Surpex. The woodborn leaps into the pit, sword dropping also to strike Surpex.
Move Action: Leap!!! (+2 Dex, +2 second sight) Standard Action: Cut!!! (+2 Str, +3 BAB, +1 enhancement, +2 second sight)
Awn moves swiftly forward, possibly into the airborne conflagration beating and bearing down on the area. The woodborn neatly jabs at the lead satyr, enunciating just one word... "Surpex." Full Round Action: Charge Surpex, moving diagonally from position next to man (Akiros?) to adjacent to Surpex, between Surpex and Jen, three squares to the left of Guthruc... [+2 Str, +3 BAB, +1 enhancement, +2 charge, +2 second sight]
[-2 to AC until my next turn]
"Surpex. I insist you desist from currying favor. Perhaps a lifetime of ensorcelling weak minds and providing entertaining repasts has left you quite unused to...talking straight, though I imagine if it cane to it you could speak your mind quite easily. Put simply, you are a threat to our regency, and your flesh eating friend is simply on the wrong side of history." Awn looks briefly at each satyr in turn, and completely ignores the cannibal. "Lay down any weapons. Get on your knees, or if your legs bend not that way, sit. Put your hands in the air."
Awn's smile turns straight back on, the insouciance of a being in control, and welcoming it. After all, self-styled lords in force must act...lordly. And given Abaos was strangely silent... "Our lord dragon wishes to extend the same courtesy to you that your people-eating friend extended to someone just recently. I'm inclined to think our green tusked friend might wish the same. Don't. Mess. With. Us." The woodborn's eyes twinkle. "Amicable."
Awn's smile freezes, in a manner that is decidedly not friendly. T'lass is suddenly pointing directly at the talkative satyr. "Friend Surpex. You do yourself no honour plying deception upon deception. At some point you must realise we are not having humor with you. Stand. Or die." [+2 from second sight]
At this stage I think they are a distinct threat, and Awn is disposed to eliminate the cannibal on general grounds that perhaps eating people is bad when one might be tge people being eaten. He's quite fond of the cat though.
Awn blinks. Well, this should be interesting.
I'm sorry the necrosiation spills are hoovering, but I think Awn has his earplugs in, so he can't hear you. Anyway, I think the best diplomat should negotiate with them, with earbuds out. I think that's Abaos. Then you can listen to their thoughts.
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