The young halfling, wide-eyed, nods hesitantly, still gripping the knight figures in her hands.
"I.. um... I.. can try."
She focuses her mind with a grimace and tries to... move... the blood?
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The toy knights still firmly held in her grasp Elska creeps after, eyes wide.
Don't worry about it! RL happens.
Elska carefully retrieves each of the knights with her mind, one at a time and grips them tightly, as if evidence of children at play is somehow a comfort to her.
"Um... ok." The little halfling creeps carefully closer to the room and searches, moving things out of the way with her mind. She ignores mention of the river of blood. Surely it's a metaphor, right?
As the Hearda moves cautiously down the corridor, the little halfing looks nervously at the untouched doors as he passes them. With care, she opens the doors with her mind and peers into each from the opposite side of the hall.
Elska follows cautiously, quietly and keeps a nervous watch down the corridor.
The small halfling peels her hands free of Sigvald's leg with an anxious sigh as they enter the room. With hesitance, she watches the half-orc, almost as if she's examining and analyzing his actions. What does it mean that he can do what she can?
With grim determination, Elska sends another flagstone flying at the remaining creature.
Elska looks wide-eyed at the half-orc for a moment before reaching for her own rock to throw. He's... he's like me!
The little halfling hesitates, looking nervously out at the mist. With a deep breath, she steels herself and rushes across, right up to Sigvald at the door and grips his leg in both trembling hands. Leaning on the larger man for support, Elska focuses her mind and pulls the rags away.
The little halfling looks nervously out the door, suppressing a frantic impulse to flee, her eyes darting left and right. With a deep breath that is much less calming than she would like, she reaches out with her mind toward the far door and attempts to open it with a tense energy.
Elska looks on wide-eyed and trembling as the old man explains what happened. "Is it... is it safe?" She stands meek and small in the doorway, unmoving.
With a calming breath at her success, Elska picks up another piece of rubble with her mind, sending it flying into the cage once again. :
At Sigvald's show of determination, the little halfling forces herself to take action. She won't go inside. No. She can't do that. But she can help from outside. She wants to help. Hearda says to kill the birds. I... I guess I can try. With a deep breath, the little girl sets her face in grim focus, tears still dripping slowly down her cheeks as a piece of nearby rubble lifts off the ground, flies through the still-open door and straight into the birdcage.
No worries. :)
GM, I think we have everyone's actions in initiative now.
"A haunting!" the old man shouts, his paranoia confirmed "Everyone find the key or out NOW!" At the old man's words, the halfling freezes in place. She should take action, shouldn't she? If they're her friends, isn't she supposed to be heroic and jump in with them? But she's too scared. Frozen. And so, the little halfling watches wide-eyed as the door closes her new friends away from her. Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. I... I'm not brave.
The little halfling cautiously peers through the doorway, not approaching any closer. She looks worried for Hearda as he casually enters the room. "Um... what happened to them? Be careful. He looks like... like he was scared when he died." She seems stoic, but perhaps surprised at how calm she is in the face of corpses. Maybe the terror of her whole situation has made her somewhat numb to terrible things.
When Hearda steps away from the door, the little halfling sets her jaw and nervously opens the door from a distance. She's very tense, as if she expects something to jump out at her from behind the door.
...Okay... I'll try, the little halfling whispers. "If... if you're scared there is something behind the door, I... I can open it um... with my mind." She looks both worried and resolved at the same time. She quickly quiets down when the half-orc signals for silence, waiting awkwardly for a response, hands folded in front of her.
Scary thought. If we put a bell outside, the GM gets to decide who... or what rings it...
Divination? I don't know... As the little halfling looks up at the old man, a small rock floats out of the pouch on her belt and hovers gently in mid-air. "I... I can put a bell outside. That way nobody has to go out there. Do... do you have one?"
Feeling a bit more resolved at Hearda's words, the little halfling makes a show of bravery by walking up beside him. "Do you know where it is?" She's clearly nervous walking this close, but she forces herself to stay. If these aren't her friends, well... let's just say that she really hopes these are her friends.
"No one knows who she is. Just that she watches over us in our dreams." Elska looks sadly at the figure. "She doesn't have a name either. Nobody deserves to be nameless. Let's call her Ana." With a grim smile, the halfling nods to herself and moves away. Ana is a friend, right? I hope I remember my name soon. Or maybe someone will give me one. I think I'd like that. She quietly joins the others, looking uncertainly between the two tall-folk at the mention of rivers of blood and of going back outside. With a shiver, she resolves herself and speaks up. "I... I can help. I think. But I don't want to go outside again." She looks very worried that they'll ask her to do just that.
She’s great! No worries I'm telling everybody! "Hey Ma!" lol jk. Thanks a bunch! Always open to criticism :D
Does anyone have any comments, criticisms or suggestions about how I'm writing Elska? I'm still relatively new to PbP(and creative writing in this format) and I would greatly appreciate any feedback. I'm having a lot of fun with her already though!
Elska opens her eyes and immediately tears begin to form. She's scared. Really, deeply scared. It's not debilitating. She can be brave. But at her core, the fear rests, ready to rise to the surface at the slightest urging. With tears running slow lines down her cheeks, the halfling's eyes light on the statue of the woman with butterfly wings and she cautiously wipes her cheeks on her sleeves and walks over to it. "Who... who is this?" she asks quietly aloud, to no one in particular.
The halfling carefully takes apart her pack and neatly sets the items in an organized fashion on the floor. As she does so, she absently starts to hum quietly. She doesn't know the words of the song, or even that she's humming it. If she knew the words or when she used to sing it, she might not hum it at all. It seems sad, almost mournful. The contents of her pack laid out, she seems surprised to find daggers hidden under her shirt, among other things. Many of her possessions have neat little musical notes stitched or etched into them. The owner of these possessions is very meticulous and careful. She spends a significant amount of time examining an unusual, shiny metal ball. Heavy, she hefts it in her hand. And then lifts it with her mind to float in the air. It feels familiar, comfortable.
After a few moments, she packs everything neatly away, though she keeps the ball out and rolls it gently around on the floor. "No name... but I have... weapons." She seems sad about that.
The halfling nods solemnly at the advice from the half-orc and moves hesitantly into the chapel. Taking up a spot in the corner away from all the people, she carefully starts going through her pockets and her pack, seeming not unlike a rabbit who found a fresh carrot out in the open. It has time for a bite here and there, but it pauses to watch its surroundings often. She seems very much like that.
It is the day that was prophesied!
Do you think the GM meant it would be OK for us to go inside the chapel? Also, is there food to cook in there? I kind of want to RP Elska getting involved with that if possible.
How do you know what a Sarenrae is? lol jk. Merry Christmas!
The halfling looks up at the old man after her sobbing subsides, her eyes and face reddened. "Do... do you know my name?" She looks hopeful for the first time... slightly.
At the old man's acceptance, the halfling does something unexpected. Tears still streaming down her face, she darts up to the old man and hugs his leg fiercely, sobbing into his kilt. Not a monster... I'm not a monster. "Thank you..." she says through her sobs, still not letting go.
I have a follow up post, but I'll wait for the GM in case you just poisoned us all, lol
First, the little halfling glances backward, toward the ruin, toward the door, toward the mist. Uncertainty on her face, she looks forward, toward possible sanctuary. Finally, she looks up at the old man, toward possible answers. Will he really help me? With one last, quick look behind her, the girl turns back with a look of resigned resolve on her face, and the vial lifts itself out of the old man's hand and floats across to her. "Shapeshifters... pretending to be children?" She catches the old man's implication. She looks horrified. She doesn't want to drink the vial, but what choice does the halfling have, really? Go back to the mist? Explore this ruin alone that supposedly has shapeshifters lurking about? No. She'll never make it out there alone. She needs someplace safe. She might as well die here if that's where she's headed. With tears streaming down both cheeks, the halfling grasps the floating vial and downs it quickly. Please... Dice:
Yeah, I wouldn't let two doppelgangers into the party if I were you either. ;) I may wait until morning to post my response. I want to think about it for a bit. I do like the strategy your character is taking. Definitely paints him as a clever old man. I'd better keep my eye on him... Edit: Well, no spellcraft or knowledge arcana. As far as Elska is concerned, you could totally be capable of making such a concoction which could totally exist in the world. OOC I don't think holy water would hurt a shapeshifter, evil or not. It only affects undead and evil outsiders. :P
Elska stands quietly at the end of the hall, watching the strangers enter the chapel ahead of her and listening to the voices within. With careful cautiousness, she creeps up silently until she stands small, a few steps away from the door, at the edge of the turn in the hall. Her voice comes out barely more than a whisper, likely missed under the conversation going on within the chapel. "Is... is it safe?" She looks hopeful... and uncertain.
The little halfling watches nervously as the group files off and, afraid of the mist and being alone, follows carefully, quietly, several feet behind. She looks like she might leap away at any sudden moves. What is this place?
Does our Mesmerist know we're up and running? I don't want to bury him in posts to catch up on. Also, Elska isn't going to get in the middle of the group unless someone convinces her to trust them. She's as worried about you as you are about her. Probably more. That said, if nobody does that, she'll tag along a safe distance behind and I'll look for ways to get her to start trusting you guys somewhat.
In the corner, the little halfling shifts uncomfortably, calmer now that the mist isn't threatening to rush over her, and now that nobody is brandishing a weapon too close. I don't know what I am. Am I stuck this way? Does somebody know what I am? The girl visibly gathers up the nerve to speak, taking a deep breath, her voice still barely coming out a tiny squeak. "Um... I don't know what I am... but I don't think I'm a monster. At least... I hope not. I don't want to be." She looks away at that, almost as if she's ashamed of the possibility that she could be a monster and not know it. Tears glitter in her eyes.
The little halfling darts inside away from the mist, and at the sight of several new strangers, let's out a little eep! and dashes away onto the rubble in the corner. She doesn't seem totally panicked, but she makes herself as small as possible in the corner and watches the group warily.
When the very large man takes a moment to speak calmly to her, the little halfling begins to settle some. She still looks nervously between him and the mist, but she is shaking somewhat less. What I did? What did I do? She stretches out her mind toward the door and she can feel it somehow... "Um... maybe." Her voice barely registers in the quiet gloom. The girl tries to stretch her mind inside the door to try and unlock it, or figure out why it won't open. She is very careful not to go anywhere near the mist or the man while doing so. Who am I? Why can I do this?
As the giant man swings his sword toward her, Elska shrieks again and ducks past him, swinging the cooking pot as hard as her little arms will allow. Which isn't very hard at all. Missing entirely and dropping the pot, she darts away along the building, eyeing the mist and the man both nervously. She's clearly still in survival mode.
Elska knows how to pick a lock if you can calm her down. Though, swinging a cutlass toward her probably doesn't help. :P My response coming momentarily.
Turning her back to the door, panicked, the little halfling pulls out an iron cooking pot and brandishes it hopelessly toward the strange man in a feeble attempt to ward him off. No... no... no... no... no...
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