We'll be fine as long as you just fire the bass cannon.
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"A little late for that," Edwyn interjects in a drab tone, though it did not suggest any sense of disagreement. Truth was, he had half a mind to jump ship himself, if he were not certain doing so would kill him almost immediately. As far as he was concerned, they would all be better off following Belmont's advice. The cloaked man huddled against a wall as though searching for warmth, though an endure elements spell had ensured that he would not freeze to death. Granted, there were other causes for discomfort on the ship. Present company included.
So instead we all get to die alone. Sounds like fun! I'm joking, of course. Mostly.
Backstory:
Never had anyone in the Varro Clan possessed any aspirations of conquering evil. There was no grand legacy for them to follow, no chip on their shoulder. Throughout the years and Dracula's earlier rises to power, the family kept to itself, practicing their alchemy and arcane magics in secret. They had been spared from the witch trials, but they nonetheless harbored resentment toward the church. In times of need, they had used their power only to protect themselves. After all, there was always a Belmont to end the curse. The Varro need not concern themselves with such matters. Edwyn would insist he chose differently on a whim, that he cared nothing for protecting the innocent. But nonetheless, he was there. Perhaps it was the allure of actually putting his power to use, or perhaps it was the sight of his withered, embittered father, wasting away in his laboratory, pouring acid on frogs. It struck him that whether they were involved or not, the years of lethargy had worn down on their souls. It was not a fate he wished to share. Hm. I think Sloth works better for this. Wasted potential, and all of that; the sin of his clan, even though he stands here now.
Mahorfeus here. Updated the ability scores, took an extra skill point and language, etc. Looking for a better avatar, but I kind of like this one...
Our paladin, Utho, dropped a while back. IIRC, he never really had a segue out of the game. I figure the character is still around somewhere.
Whoa. To be honest I almost hid this thread. I was kinda of worried that Edwyn would just go poof, so it's great to hear that we might have a second wind. Looking forward to hearing more!
Edwyn stands by in contemplative silence, a hand resting on his chin. He furrows his brow, confused by their predicament. The wizard had been entertaining a theory for a while now, "There is d-definitely magic at work here, but we c-cannot see who is using it..." he starts, running a hand through his mousy brown hair, "C-could it be a ghost? Or a p-poltergeist of some sort?"
Edwyn flinches visibly, just barely dodging a spray of ceramic shrapnel. Though in all honesty, he was more worried about Ezebelle cleaving his head off.
"S-someone is c-casting spells," Edwyn remarks with a frown, "An abjuration to h-hold the door, and a s-simple cantrip on the jars. We m-might need to break it d-down." He says these last words very reluctantly, eying the large axe in Ezebelle's hands... and backing away slowly.
Edwyn very nearly jumps out of his skin when the jars abruptly start moving on their own, even more so when the woman lets out a shriek. More out of instinct than genuine fear, he clutches his amulet, his eyes darting around, searching for a possible cause of the disturbance. A brief moment passes before he murmurs under his breath and commences his own arcane investigation.
Edwyn blinks, totally caught off guard by the troubled woman. He follows everyone to the store, listening to her story on the way. What could this be all about?
"We would n-need the list of names," Edwyn enunciates with a frown, "But we need g-good cause to get the church's h-help."
"It's... p-possible," Edwyn replies thoughtfully as he mulls over the previous day's events. He was convinced that Gibs was innocent, but that did not necessarily mean that the man had not done it. The school of enchantment was a particularly troublesome school to deal with. The wizard himself had a fundamental grasp of it, but what Cassiel was describing was something that would be well beyond the scope of his abilities - or even of those of a dedicated enchanter. The implication of the fact did not alleviate his worries. "I imagine th-that a necromancer of the Way could v-very well be c-capable. B-but they would have to be quite p-powerful..." "Anyway, that still l-leaves us short of a c-culprit and motive."
"Th-thank you for your time," Edwyn says to Gibs, before hurrying off after Cassiel.
Edwyn nods. "There is n-no motive. And the evidence was f-far too conspicuous."
"D-do you know anyone who would want to f-frame you?" Edwyn asks, curling a finger under his chin.
Cringing at Ezebelle's sharp remark, Edwyn decides to push along. "W-why did you d-deface the statue anyway?"
I think it's been fine, for the most part. I can post as often as necessary.
"W-would it be all right for us to s-speak to him?" Edwyn asks, his tone inquisitive.
"T-to the sheriff f-first, then?"
Hey, real life stuff always has to come first. Thanks for the heads up. Sorry to see you go, though.
Edwyn promptly excuses himself from the table, mumbling an awkward word of thanks to Kendra. He then hurries off to his room, returning with his pack, clutching his spellbook with a vice-grip. He nods to the others, ready to leave at a moment's notice.
The Warden is the common factor... a connection? "Hm. Y-yes, perhaps that avenue is m-more worth our effort for the t-time being," Edwyn says, finishing his last bite of food.
Edwyn studies Ezebelle carefully, conflicting emotions swimming around in his head. It was as though he was contemplating a life or death situation. After a few seconds however, he simply nods with approval. "The l-list of people who d-died in the fire was one of the l-last things the Professor asked for. Father Grimburrow might need s-some... convincing in that regard."
"I'll have to t-talk to Father Grimburrow..." Edwyn adds, his tone tinged with disappointment.
"I th-think I know who the Professor needed to c-contact," Edwyn says quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of attempting to speak to the the Professor. "Or at l-least an idea. He n-needed the names of those who d-died in the fire at Harrowstone. He m-must have had an idea of who the spirit w-was. Intended to c-capture it..."
Edwyn nods slightly in response, biting his lower lip. Somehow, seeing that Kendra could keep her composure only made him feel worse about his inquiry. Nonetheless, her answer confirmed a few of his suspicions. Coincidence... perhaps it's best that we don't tell her anymore... He was not about to tell her that her father might have been assassinated by a cult, or that a wayward ghost had killed him. Those possibilities were almost too much for him to handle. The wizard murmurs a sheepish apology before slowly tackling the rest of his meal.
"It is... odd," Edwyn murmurs, his mouth twitching into a frown. "P-perhaps there was once m-more there?" he proposes, quickly glancing at Cassiel and Ezebelle. "Or..." ...he died before he could get them...? he does not finish asking, loathe to bring up the subject of the Professor's death. But... The wizard fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes dart back and forth between the board and Kendra twice, hesitation taking its hold. But there was a nagging question, something that he had not had the chance to ask. He knew that they all had their suspicions, but he felt like he was missing something. Making up his mind, he sucks in a sharp breath and looks to Kendra. "Miss Kendra, how... h-how exactly did your father... die?"
Edwyn nods repeatedly, absorbing Kendra's explanation as though he were a sponge. As he comprehends the device's purpose, his eyes once again widen with wonder. With new understanding, he takes a closer look at the language on the planchette, pondering Ezra's question.
"'Around certain spirits...' So we must b-be in the vicinity of their r-resting place?" he asks tentatively, failing utterly at concealing his excitement.
Once again among the living, Edwyn descends the stairs with his spellbook tucked under his arm, the night's rest having clearly done wonders. He very nearly skips breakfast, intent on hitting the books immediately, but is quickly reminded of his folly by a low rumble in his abdomen. "Good morning," he greets the others, joining them at the table.
I'm not too familiar with the rules for it since I've never actually done it before, but Edwyn shouldn't have any trouble copying the spells from one or two of those scrolls into his spellbook, should he? Granted, it'd cost gold and destroy the scroll, but I figure that having it on reserve might work out better in the long run. Just a thought.
Edwyn nods at Cassiel's suggestion slowly, the momentary excitement of the hour having worn thin. With slow, staggering steps, he retreats to his room upstairs, where he would promptly collapse onto his bed, going to sleep for real this time.
"I... have no idea what this is." Edwyn looks to the pile of the books almost longingly, his eyes searching for the purple book. Already however, his eyes are starting to droop again. The wizard stifles a yawn, setting down the open case. "That can wait till the morning as well... perhaps..."
Edwyn sets aside the magical items one by one, relating to the others their various effects, while apologizing profusely about the ones he could not identify. ("P-perhaps in the morning...") Before he can go on however, the wizard's eyes fall upon the darkwood case, recognition coming over him. "Oh!" Slowly, carefully, he attempts to open the case.
Cassiel's initial proclamation of being bit does little to allay Edwyn's fears, but he sighs once more when Ezebelle elaborates. There were worse things to get bitten by than centipedes. He raises one of the vials containing bluish liquid before his eyes, swirling it around gently. "I... believe s-so," he replies, "I will just n-need a few minutes."
When the gear clatters to the ground, Edwyn wakes with a start, sending the book on his lap hurtling to the floor. Sleep still in his eyes, he glances about, looking at Cassiel and Ezebelle each in turn, before finally settling his gaze on the clutter of gear on the ground. His eyes widen for a moment, comprehension sinking through the fog of exhaustion that addled his brain. Sighing with relief, the wizard leans down to collect the book he dropped, dusting off its cover before placing it on the table. He glances at the mess on it guiltily, having made no attempt to clean it after his failed research; he hoped that Kendra would not mind him leaving it there. "D-did you run into any t-trouble?" Edwyn asks the two quietly, as he collects the equipment, making sure that Ezebelle did not break anything.
Duly noting that one-half (or perhaps two-thirds) of his audience is fast asleep, Edwyn sighs, still nodding off himself.
"...that seems... r-rather convenient..." Edwyn murmurs, his head still inclined on the textbook. His mind exhausted from hours of researching, it was refreshing to learn something relevant. Now if only he could stay awake long enough to hold a cohesive conversation. "W-what if the fire... wasn't an accident?"
Edwyn shakes his head, though the gesture is lost amidst the awkwardness of his present posture. "I d-doubt any local library would have a collection this grand..." he mumbles, lazily gesturing towards the bookshelves. "I'm sure the answer is here somewhere, I just..." "...Zzz..."
"...perhaps I... should have gone to bed after all..." Edwyn murmurs, resting his tired head on an old encyclopedia.
Edwyn sighs at Ezra's response, but only partly out of relief. I hope they conclude their business quickly... without getting caught. Part of him regretted not accompanying them, but what was done was done. With that matter out of the way, he ponders Utho's question. "Strange? N-not particularly," he replies, seating himself at the table. "The Restlands are a s-sacred place, after all. And we are the only ones who suspect f-foul play... or even know that the Way is involved. The Professor was v-very secretive with his goals... if only h-he'd..." The wizard bites his tongue, shaking his head. "Well... n-no matter. Perhaps he kept some n-notes on those prisoners somewhere around h-here..." he adds quietly, now loathe to ask Father Grimburrow directly.
Edwyn paces back and forth in his room, murmuring incomprehensibly and still clutching his amulet, his thumb repeatedly tracing the Pharasman spiral engraved onto its surface. Maybe they're still downstairs... perhaps they decided against it... But what if they did go? Should I have gone with them? Or maybe... no, no, that wouldn't do at all... A few minutes pass before the wizard finally relents, going back downstairs. "Are... they gone?" he asks Kendra and Ezra.
"It's g-getting late," Edwyn remarks while getting up. "I m-must be getting to bed. I bid you all a good night." The wizard hastily leaves the others, pausing only to bow to Kendra before returning to his room. All the while, he is quite noticeably clutching his amulet. No, no, surely there has to be another way! I know the Professor sought the tools out... and perhaps we need them. But... if the others must take them, then I...
"There is s-still information I require of Father Grimburrow," Edwyn says, frowning at the prospect of robbing the Restlands. He knew that it seemed necessary, but... "We have a p-possible motive, but we still d-don't know exactly who the Way is after..."
Ah, looking back, I missed that Ezra said she wasn't doing anything until Ezebelle got back. Whoops.
Sorry, I'm a bit confused. I thought were already on our way to the temple... I might have missed something, as usual.
On their way to the Temple of Pharasma, Edwyn struggles through the awkward process of asking the deaf gnome whether she knows any kind of sign language.
"F-fair enough." Returning Ezra's nod, Edwyn tidies the research materials up a bit before joining her outside.
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