Euphemia tries loading her bow with a sunrod and tests the feel of it.Oh, Phem!
-.- Get your head out of there. It will get stuck, and when it rains, you will drown.
Search Posts
Epilogue
She didn't shirk her duties, but she did occasionally rush them after a long day of experimentation, teaching, and... cooking, when the situation merited it. She had ferreted away the darker tomes (aside from whatever Cheliax had mandated) to a conspicuously lackluster "restoration" effort in the university's basement to try to prevent Orsin's fate from befalling anyone else. Additionally, she found the most humorous tomes and compiled a reading list for any interested. This is, of course, not including her new recipe book. She would have made more than one, but her duties in the new... council.. kept her writing time, at least, to a minimum. She hated handing off that work to Patches or any of the other orphans she hired from time-to-time, but compiled data had to be put somewhere. ...
She visited her brother on occasion, but the newfound freedom of Westcrown caused Rance's star to rise even higher, and it was hard to find a place in his schedule to bond. That was alright, as long as they could still get together every so often. Euphemia's relationship with Gerard didn't grow any less tumultuous with Gerard through the years, but the disagreements didn't last long, and she never used her hair as leverage again. The witch advanced her magical skills yet further, but not in any real destructive way. Mostly, she just ensured that Frank was always zooming about the library with increased abilities and prolong the time she could spend in her favored hedge-hoggy form. That was really the only way to accompany Gerard on some of his more difficult missions (which she always did as he got on in years out of worry that his hip would go out or something while he was sneaking... it never did). She bore Gerard two sons eventually: a brooding firecracker of a boy with a keen intellect who often ran away to be alone, and a sensitive soul who wanted to please everyone and was terrified of solitude. Both ended up honing skills as adventurers, but only one managed to make a name for himself within Gerard's circles. Which one that is... well, isn't for this author to decide. Thirty-five years after the events of the destruction of the original council, Euphemia vanished alongside Frank. While it was speculated to have been family trouble, that was not at all the case.
Regardless, it was a good life, and Patches made a fine replacement Lore Keeper when the time came.
Dear Frank, that is just a legend, and an esoteric one even by our standards. I refuse to worry him with a story about a fallen seraphim whose greatest joy is melting bones and braiding people together when her last sighting was in a fictional account of a legendary barbarian.
Euphemia held Gerard's hand and followed him into the festivities... and later followed him to aid in any-last minute clandestine dealings.
"Do not let the demons fell you, Sir Daniel."
"Frank will miss you, too. He gave me some very specific instructions for you, but I imagine you already know how to deal with Phlem Bracken and the Wretched Swamp's Rule of 3s." At the point in which Andrea made her speech, Euphemia tried to find her brother's gaze and gave him a knowing wink. She wouldn't be one to give a speech; the old family name was only just resurfacing, and she didn't wish to ...well...cock it up. The witch was quite comfortable with her new position, though she was loathe to advertise it. Access to the knowledge of the entire city gave her a way to serve serve purposes at once that she had longed to attend to. It would also make her an excellent aid to Gerard.
Euphemia just gapes, her body untensing from the adrenaline flushing away.
Frank, it has been a pleasure, but if he reneges and tries to impart martial law, our partnership will be over because what I will do cannot end well. I intend to use brute force to let Thrune know, just this once, that they can't get what they want without a little sacrifice. Besides, we will be tried as criminals should they not leave, yes? Euphemia's head remains down.
Euphemia, her lips taut, also bows alongside Gerard. She has nothing to say to this man that would actually help their cause except for, perhaps, that she wasn't going to attack him and his miserable, baby-eating face. Yes, they'd run into several decent hell knights and the man seems to be reasonable, but this is a servant of the house of Thrune, and she is a Nereis. Thankfully, there are no marks or identifications that mark her as such.
Gerard cannot help but notice some of the laced flatbread got jammed into his pack.
Euphemia, once certain there is nothing more of urgency to do that pertains to her, steals away to cook a meal laced with euphoria-inducing herbs with what food she has left in her apartment.
She cackles and giggles and rolls around on her bed like a small child for about an hour.
Euphemia looks up from calming Frank with well-placed caresses. She's just doing her best not to make the situation worse, and continues to do so up to the meetingpoint.
When the lantern archons appear in their disapproving way, Euphemia looks around to realize combat is over. "Is everyone still alive, then?" she asks, knowing the answer and grinning.
Euphemia again begins to chant, though her words are more meticulous this time. She's summoning something again.
"That won't be difficult, but we had assumed you knew where they were."
"Do you sense the devil now?"Euphemia asks her summons, only to have them stare at her blankly.
The creatures nod and cast blur on themselves. Euphemia, meanwhile, bites her thumb until it bleeds to cast False Life.
"The devil has ESCAPED!" Euphemia rages in the harshest terms, though the wall probably prevented the sound from travelling too far.
"Well done."
Euphemia completes her summoning spell with a loud cackle, bringing Bralani Azatas into existence . She issues a command in celestial for two of them to attend to Aurelio's wounds and one to bolster its defenses and menace the devil.
Sorry I've been gone. My fiance and I are helping with a wedding.
Does the creature have reach?
"It is a tad freakish that you know what spells I have on my person, Andrea."
Euphemia moves to whence Andrea motions.
Euphemia narrows her eyes. "Where do you want down, Andrea?"
"Andrea, would you care for a lift? Euphemia asks, activating her prehensile hair and wrapping it around her friend. Though she appears absolutely terrified judging by the nostril flaring.
Euphemia does one better and grants Daniel the ability to fly. She won't go as far as to admit she has no more means to dispel magic, though. She had counted on Orsin's scrolls for that, to her detriment.
That's a good question. Euphemia needs to get a spell of intelligence buffing if she's going to keep doing this. Or ant haul.
"That could have gone better!" Euphemia hisses.
41 posts. Holy crap.
I'm heading out of town for a couple of days again, sorry.
Shaman seems pretty legit.
But Em would be willing.
"It should be alright, though we are operating on a Dresnandian Gambit of immunity or death. Take heart, Milady."
--- Euphemia places a palm to her face. She likes to remember her brother sober, as rare as that occurrence is. Not that she can blame his for this particular night. She just never wants a repeat of the night he was so hammered that he didn't recognize her from behind and playfully grabbed at her skirts. "Rance, you cannot be so consigned to defeat already." Frank, he does know I am in the vanguard, correct, and that the ensuing of martial law would mean I have already perished or fled?
I intend to be around. :)
Euphemia sniffs at the air.
Euphemia gently nudges Gerard in the ribs, as if to remind him to dwell in the here and now.
"That would be my plan. Gerard, are you whole?"
Euphemia activates her prehensile hair, indignant.
Euphemia seems to be enjoying the state of witch-hogdom. As a result, she tries to clamber onto Gerard.
"Very well."
She removes her satchel and hands it to Daniel, Frank and all, and shrinks into another spined insectivore, slightly smaller than Frank, and toddles to Mathalen.
Embarrassed, Euphemia shakes her head in response to Daniel's question. "I am afraid that is not within my realm of specialty. I can, however, accompany her in a smaller form should this be a quick errand."
Euphemia looks on, her hair ready to writhe.
"Is it safe to take her our of here?" Euphemia asks.
Thanks for the DMNPC. Well done, too. It is what I planned on doing as I read along.
"That is a glue slime. As the name suggest, it is a sticky snare.We could dissolve it later with solvent or strong alcohol."
Euphemia flails with her torch.
Euphemia, cringing at the cacophony, starts to pull a torch from her witch's kit, swearing at her lack of foresight in failing to get anything too useful in dealing with swarms in her repetoire for the day.
|