Erevan Cale's page

"Oh, well..."

Taking advantage of the chaos, Erevan slips into the crowd, moving through it and adding to the whole commotion with a few well-placed whispers, some with a hint of urgency and others with fear coloring the words, of "Gods, I think it's comin' this way," and "I think... does that man o'er there... is that a knife," and more. But simply helping all the running and yelling along is not his sole purpose, as he is also looking to make people divert what attention and presence of mind they have left to other things while he hides among them, moving closer and closer to the silver helmet. Even getting a better look at the thing may be useful, but if it is unattended and the opportunity presents itself? Well, his cloak should make for an adequate hiding place in a pinch and for a brief period of time. At least until he and the others make themselves scarce, something that is indeed a priority as far as he is concerned if the "sucker" is stolen.

"Pardon?"

Admittedly Cimri's words surprise Erevan. Their actual boss' instructions did not include theft, mostly appraising the situation and maintaining a presence. The former seemed more or less well on the way of being finished, while the latter was about to start as far as he could tell. But somehow actually stealing the helmet, especially while wearing certain sashes, does not seem like a wise idea. And if he were to bet, he would bet that if such a thing were to happen, even out of sight, they would be the first the Sheriff would quite possibly suspect.

"Care to... elaborate? Because I know you do not mean now and you have of course thought of the fact that your dear aunt is already suspicious of you and the company you keep, yes?"

"So it would seem, at least for now," Erevan offers softly as he too follows Cimri, a shrug his only reaction to the exchange between aunt and niece. "A showing of... well, not exactly force, just vigilance. That the powers-that-be are aware of what is going on and present. Am I close?" This last question is directed at the young woman who has gathered them together.

"Of course, depending on how events unfold, we may need to do a bit more than just stand around and look dashing," he adds with a thin crooked smile.

Erevan smiles as he watches the exchange, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Standing towards the back of the group he is not about to step up front and center with the Sheriff involved. He does trust in his disguise to be sure, but he is nevertheless a careful man. And being recognized is not something particularly palatable.

Still, he keeps his eyes and ears open in an attempt to take the woman's measure now that he is seeing her in action and on the job.

"Moving through the crowd and, so to speak, putting words in people's mouths might also have the desired effect," Erevan offers, more or less in agreement with Bryn. "Although a sash might make it a little difficult to do so."

"I have to echo her words more or less," Erevan says to Cimri and the others. "I have accommodations of my own. But I am certainly up for more interesting endeavors like tonight's."

As he starts to leave he pauses for a moment and turns to look at the Sheriff's niece. "I trust you know how to send word?" He waits only for a little for an answer before finally departing.

Erevan partakes of both food and drink, though he does take care not to have too much of the latter. No need to have his senses dulled, even among... friends? Otherwise, like the others, he too pockets the coins, smiling as he notices that Cimri's share appears larger. 'She did gather and... well, mostly guide us,' he ponders briefly with what amounts to a sort of mental shrug.

Other than that he takes a few moments to examine his new blade. Great balance and sharp, he finds, and its dark blade does not catch or reflect the light so much, which can prove useful when sneaking about.

"Nidalese perhaps," he says softly as he turns to take a look at the others' new weapons. "Our... employer seems to have either good connections or quite a bit of money or both. I rather like that."

Deciding against asking the one who is their actual employer questions, especially considering he does not appear to be the kind of man who would welcome any at least at the moment, Erevan follows the rest of his associates down the stairs.

"That was an intriguing meeting," he remarks conversationally. "Are we going to have a more proper chat with him any time soon?"

"Two feet of tongue," Erevan repeats Aelden's words. "What a pleasant mental image..."

Once they reach Ash House, he takes a good look at it, listening to the woman's words while doing so. He smiles at the off-handed way she recites the things she knows about the place. "Interesting. Both the story and the lesson," he remarks before turning to Cimri.

"So, here we are. Deed done and all. And now?"

Erevan composes himself as he straightens himself up. Once again calm and in control, the pain having considerably subsided playing an important part to it, he nevertheless keeps his curved knife in his hand. Looking down he takes note of the hole in his clothes, appreciating the lack of a matching hole in his flesh. Still, there is a very brief expression of distaste on his face.

'I suppose I can take care of that easily enough later,' he ponders for but a moment before returning his mind and his attention to the task at hand. A task the others seem to be handling quite well indeed.

"Again, do listen to the not so nice lady," he quips, "so we can all put this... unpleasantness behind us and move on." He is not certain the man hears him as he appears to be in a bit of pain at the moment, but still.

"What did I say about plans?"

The words come out through gritted teeth, his voice almost a hiss. At least he is still alive, and at least the healing hurts less than the wound itself.

"Yes, you should listen to her. Especially considering how at least one of us is not all that thrilled about the keeping you alive part."

Ouch.

"That sounds like a plan," Erevan says, nodding in agreement. "Let us just hope it survives its actual execution."

"Shall we then?" And with those words the hooded man starts making his way forward quietly.

Stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

"Locked after all," Erevan -or Shady, take your pick- whispers to the others. "Straightforward enough though, nothing particularly exotic. Still...," he says as he takes out a set of lockpicks from a nondescript pouch and gets to work. The first try is unsuccessful, eliciting a sigh of displeasure from the man, but the second attempt gets the job done, a soft satisfying 'click' indicating that the door is now unlocked.

"Ladies, gentlemen..."

Disable Device: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Disable Device: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

"So it is the place we convinced him to return and lock himself in," Erevan quips, referring to Aelden's comment. "Well, I think I can take care of the lock if such a thing is indeed needed. Other than that perhaps we should start making our way there? Or do you want me to move ahead first? See if there is some other way in perhaps?"

He turns to the others. "Unless someone else has a better idea?"

Curved blade held tightly, Erevan keeps quiet, waiting to see if the shapeshifter's ruse and the woman's magic are enough to send the man away. If not, however, he is ready to spring into action and see if his knife will prove more convincing.

Sorry for the short post, but Paizo has been down all day today and now my time is fairly limited...

"I do not particularly enjoy harming... pets, even one as fierce as this one, but necessity trumps personal preference," 'Shady' comments softly. "But I do not think we can disguise cuts and slashes as bites. As for healing it, that is hardly my area of expertise, but if one of you can do so, perhaps you should start with our associate here?"

With the warrior opposite him effectively flanking the beast and the woman's magic bolstering him, 'Shady' once again lashes out with his curved knife, this time the dark blade finding purchase on the dog's flesh.

"This dog does not look all that normal, not quite," 'Shady' calls out to the others as what looks like a dagger with a curved dark-colored blade seemingly appears in his right hand. "And I mean besides all the growling and slavering," he quips as he tries to move around and strike at the beast from a more advantageous position. "Perhaps a bit of fiendish blood? Or more than a bit?"

Taking care to not get snagged -or worse- by the nails, the hooded man accepts Knuckles' assistance as he manages to step through the narrow opening, albeit not as quickly as he would have liked. Once that is over with he quickly moves to use the shadows and the dark for cover, the result of the attempt not as good as he would have liked.

"Perhaps I am a little out of practice," he mutters softly, almost whispering and mostly to himself. And then the other man falls down and a sharp breath escapes his lips as he turns his eyes to scan their surroundings, trying to make sure noone saw or heard them.

"Tsk..."

"Neat trick," 'Shady' says with a smile. "I am guessing not the kind that can be taught though," he adds with a shrug and a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"It sounds like a plan. A gap that is not supposed to be there is not an entry point that will have a guard posted," he offers. "And even if there is one, well..." His smile widens just a little. "One is easier and faster to take care of quietly when compared to many."

"But slipping through does take a bit of subtlety," the hooded man says as he turns to look pointedly at 'Dogface' and less so at 'Doll' and 'Lady'. "You up to it?"

"Friend would be too strong a term, I think. Business partner might be more... appropriate. Even if this is the first time I meet our employer. Young."

The hooded man's face is partially obscured, making his characteristics and especially his eyes difficult to discern, though not impossible if one was to approach him. He probably looks like the kind of man that likes his personal space to remain personal though. Still, some things are not hidden, such as his sharp features (what can be seen of them anyway), his fair complexion and his soft voice. Dressed in mostly black and in other hues not much lighter he appears to be unarmed, though at the very least he is wearing armor, leather from the looks of it, as parts of it can be seen here and there beneath his cloak and clothes. So perhaps, just perhaps, he has not come to this place to meet with strangers entirely weaponless.

"Where he, from the looks of it, brings a big sword and a strong shield -both some of my favorite things when between me and people trying to kill me, mind you- as well as the will to use them," he continues, "I bring discretion." Despite his somber appearance in general, the man certainly seems -or rather sounds- friendly.

"That was...," Erevan remarks as the various magics expire one after the other, "...brief." There is a hint of disappointment in his tone that mirrors Ottakar's. It is not the lack of violence that causes it however, but simply the fact that he did not get the chance to put his skill to use. That and the curiosity regarding how the various spells cast on him would have worked.

Letting the others take the initiative and employ spell and tooth and claw in their fight against the elemental, Erevan then moves to join the tiefling and the Beast, using his magically bestowed ability to fly to approach the strange foe.

Armorless but with spear in hand, Erevan waits patiently as spells are cast and abilities used, feeling the various magics strengthening and protecting him and the others. And as the doctor and the tiefling change into far more monstrous forms, he looks at them and studies them with mild interest. 'To think the vampire is the more human-like of the trio,' he ponders briefly.

Once everyone appears to be ready he adds his own contribution, as the shadows and the darkness around them, both literal and metaphorical, coalesce, acting as weapon and shield and armor in more ways than one.

Erevan lets the ones with the necessary language skills do the talking, though he does let out a barely audible sigh as he leans against his spear.

'Perhaps I should make an effort to pay attention and start picking this language up,' he ponders, realizing how much he dislikes not entirely understanding what is going on. 'Well, at least we are not being attacked on the spot, so I am assuming the chat must be going well.'

"By all means Felrin," Erevan says simply as he waits for the tiefling to open the door, his spear never far from his grasp.

"Well, well, well," Erevan mutters as he approaches the western wall, albeit without getting too close. "There is a door here. Carefully made to look like a part of the wall, certainly, but here nevertheless."

"Felrin?" His addressing the tiefling has a clear enough meaning. When someone has gone to the trouble of building a hidden door, there may very well be traps involved as well.

Erevan can almost feel the consecrated altar before he sees it. 'A side-effect of my new state of being, I suppose,' he ponders off-handedly. Still, he cannot deny that the divine magic and its nature cause him what he can only describe as discomfort and a sense of trepidation. For this reason he is only too happy to let Tkaara dispel the effect or at the very least attempt to do so, all the while wondering if his own power could possibly contribute to that end.

"Who knew that this place would serve to lift our spirits," Erevan quips with a shrug and a crooked smile. "I am not used to this side of you Felrin. It is an... interesting change of pace."

He turns then to Ottakar. "What about your spirits, good Doctor?" The smile does not leave his face as he feels he knows what the half-elf's reply is most probably going to be, or at the very least the tone of it.

Just as Etna approaches Ottakar, so does Erevan move to free Felrin, albeit with a soft chuckle at Tkaara's words. Using the blunt end of his spear to poke at the tielfing once and then twice in an attempt to rouse him from his slumber, he then reverses his weapon, using the spear point to try and cut the vines binding him.

"Yet they do present themselves quite the civilized gentlemen, yes? If a little on the unusual side as far as appearances go."

As the conversation between the daemonic... gentlemen and the two women who know their language goes on Erevan simply leans against his spear, his eyes moving from his companions to what are possibly enemies. He takes no threatening stance, appearing calm and composed, letting the chat drag on. After all, perhaps it will not devolve into a fight. Perhaps. But even if it does, the pale golden-eyed man is more than ready to let his weapon do the talking if its "language" ends up being required in addition to the one already being spoken.

"Although I do not speak Daemonic, it seems to me that they could very well be syllables," Erevan suggests. "On their own they have no actual meaning, but once all are found and put together..." He pauses for a moment. "Perhaps a name?"

"Agreed," Erevan says simply as the others voice their opinions about the supposedly dangerous room. Still, the pale man waits for Tatienne's divinations to shed some light into what the danger exactly is. He may not be a foolhardy man, but he is at the very least a sufficiently curious one.

"Even if that other room is not as problematic as it sounds, the bar does seem like the better choice," he offers with a shrug, using the word Tkaara used with a little smile of amusement. "It may have two doors for us to watch for unwelcome guests, but two entrances also mean two exits."

"You two seem positively giddy at the sight of this... construct," Erevan observes with a smile that almost -almost but not quite- turns into a chuckle. He then takes another look at the doctor. "Well, perhaps giddy is too strong a word..."

He looks around, stretching his neck a little. There is a faint but audible series of cracks. "Shall we go then? The golem is not going anywhere, so it will still be here when he are finished with this place. Possibly."

"It would make for a formidable stronghold, yes," Erevan chimes in in agreement. "It certainly has the size for it and witha few changes and addition it should be quite defensible indeed."

"Of course," he adds, "we do need to secure it first. Even though it appears quite pest-free, strangely enough. And by pests, I do not necessarily mean vermin and such in the literal sense."

"Like knows like perhaps, Tatienne? After all you do seem to have reached a rather... dirty conclusion yourself without our currently gaseous barrister actually spelling such things out," Erevan quips, doing so casually, conversationally and perhaps even with a hint of camaraderie. It is almost as if his companions have been growing on him the more time they all spend in each other's company.

"Regarding that first inscription, the one that is not a word," Erevan speaks up, having not done so in quite a bit of time it seems. "Perhaps a verbal command? Such as for a horse? The second inscription does refer to 'riding with the Horsemen' after all."

"Hmm," Erevan mutters as he looks on while the quite dead -or undead, if you will- templar seats himself on the throne. "You know, I actually expected something to happen."

He shrugs and then looks at Felrin. "Of course, this just means that when something does actually happen, it may very well catch us by surprise." And with that remark the pale man keeps his eyes open, scanning his surroundings as best he can.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

"Agreed on exploring the eastern caverns," Erevan says simply, as he waits for Tatienne's and Zikomo's conversation to finish. He does appear slightly distracted, although Tkaara's questions about her hunger does bring his attention back to the matter at hand.

"No, I do not believe I will be willingly sacrificing myself any time soon," Erevan replies casually, "and certainly not to a... touchy gem."

Despite his somewhat nonchalant response, he does pause to think a little before speaking again. "Still, Etna expressed doubts as to its nature as well, yet I am the one with the dubious honor of being a preferable sacrifice? Perhaps Etna, being what she is, is not to the artifact's liking? Or perhaps it prefers humans? And if it does, it could not very well ask for Tatienne's sacrifice, seeing as it is her who communicated with it."

The golden-eyed man sighs. "No matter. At least for now. But I agree that further research is necessary. If for no other reason than the fact that I would not want to test the boundaries and fine print of our Contract."

"I share Etna's doubts about this gem's nature, I must admit," Erevan offers, his tone getting a little drier as he continues. "After all, I would have expected us to have to best some guardian or other on our way to the Tears. Perhaps even a couple of deaths or severe injuries at least." He smiles his thin little smile. "Not that I am looking forward to such a thing of course."

"Still," he goes on, driness all but vanished, "we are looking for the Tears. Emphasis on the plural, at least if memory serves. So this could very well be one of them, the other having indeed a guardian of some sort."

"Dagon again, or rather some variation of him," Erevan casually remarks as they pass by the statue of the tentacled boggard.

"One would think that they would put guards in this place," he offers as the group enters the room with the pools of water. "Or one would hope that there are guards here under different circumstances. It would be foolish to leave such a natural bottleneck undefended. And I have to admit, the albino -what is his name again?- does not strike me as a fool."

As he talks, he tries to take a better look at the crystal-studded cave formation across one of the pools.

"By all means, we would not want to prove... impolite," Erevan cannot help but quip after Etna's comment about declining an invitation, his eyes all but pointing towards Tkaara's and the Doctor's -or rather the Beast's- states.

"If Felrin does want to scout ahead, and such an idea does have merit, I am fairly certain I could join him in that endeavor," he offers, leaning against his spear. "I would appreciate some healing first though. If we do decide on that course of action, it would be wise if both of us are as healthy as possible."

"Well, my good Doctor," Erevan quips as he leans against his spear, hurt but mostly well enough, "you should then go for the legs. I hear they are quite the delicacy, at least when they are cooked."

As usual with him, the golden-eyed man uses the time spent in idle chit-chat to better study these new enemies of theirs. From what they say and how they act it does not take him long to conclude that some of his abilities would probably not work against them, as they are hardly on the side of Light. Others would though, and besides, if it does come to a fight, he is not alone, his companions formidable in their own right and even more so when bolstered by each others' abilities.

'Still, it would be... difficult,' he ponders.

With his spear proving less effective against the bark that consists the creatures' skin and with the remaining half of Jurak already hurt, Erevan moves forward, lowering his weapon and simply extending his arm, palm facing forward. The touch that follows leaves behind a handprint, entirely black, that fades soon after, although its effect persists as cracks begin to open on the treant's body and black sap oozes from them.

Cursing softly as Tkaara's magical darkness leaves and the animated tree's blows find their target, Erevan weighs his options and finally reaches a simple enough conclusion. He would rather not find himself facing two of the treant's servants at the same time, thus withdrawing and moving once again within the vampire's protective shroud of shadows.

Trusting that his two comrades-in-arms will be able to deal with the treant, Erevan keeps his attention on the animated tree in front of him, his blows becoming more forceful as he seeks to end this particular fight as quickly as possibly in order to join another.