Farlyse Vandeross's page

"Lord!" Farlyse says from the doorway near Trissae, peering into the room.

She looks around confused, but follows Dolson's lead.

"There is a battle outside, a siege! I have seen it with my own eyes. They are not lying about that. Wen and Silvers are holding the gate from what looks like an army of Dazers, sire. Some manner of enchantment is concealing the true reality beyond the walls of this mansion... It wasn't until Darkwhisper dragged me outside that I saw... My lord, the Shields haven't much time. They need my reinforcement!"

Trissae turns her back on the storm and re-enters the mansion, and four strides behind is Vandeross. As she crosses the boundary of the mansion, she turns to see the fighting Shields and Sharks disappear behind a veil of magical lies. The soldiers and dazers vanished, the crushed gate knit back together unharmed, and the smoldering light of the fire from across the street drowned behind sheets of uninteresting, uneventful rain.

"Wizardy..." Farlyse hissed behind Trissae from the entrance of the building. Then, she stuck her head through the boundary of the illusion."I will return! Hold until I speak with my lord! I will return!"

Then, she turns and pursues Trissae into the mansion proper.

Looking taken aback by the declaration, Farylse turns, open mouthed, to face Trissae. The expression quickly turns into a guarded glare.

"This is a spell!" she bleeds.

I'll do Farlyse's post now, so Trissae can get in here to post while we wait for the boys. You guys are separated enough that this should be fine, taking this out of order.

Farlyse stares, shocked, at the elemental melee happening at the gates. It was basically a warzone, with Shields and Sharks fighting side-by-side for control of the gate, and therefor the mansion. Dazers had started climbing the walls, and the ranged combatants turned their attention onto these.

The knight stands up quickly, Trissae's outstretched hand ignored.

"Drow... What... What is this?!"

"Silvers! What's going on?!" she shouts out to the mounted Shield, trotted from one wall to the other, trying to round up and knock out the dazers climbing over the walls.

Farlyse, bleeding but still fighting, grips her sword awkwardly and begins slashing at the T-rex's belly with her great sword.

One hit. Trissae, take 20 slashing damage and make a concentration check. Constitution saving throw DC 10, or your polymorph drops

"AHHH!!!" Fayrlyse yells with exertion as she pushes off of the wall, returning the favor to Ozz. He keeps a grip on her sword, so as not to push it away as well.

Ozz's athletics to resist the table-push: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

The armored woman explodes off of the wall with the table. She pushes back, bowling Ozz over with the table and sending him back against the hallway entrance. The table leaves contact with her with a shove, flipping in the air as Ozz stumbles and ducks the turning table, narrowly missing getting hit by it as it clatters to the floor near the hallway, legs up.

Farlyse bares her weapon in both hands, free of the table from between her and her foes. She blocks the doorway into the piano room with her body, standing before it. Falling into a battle stance, she flexes in her stance and rolls her neck in anticipation, her bones cracking with satisfaction as she readies herself for battle. Her greatsword gleams coldly in the candle light.

"Come. Throw yourselves on my sword!" she hisses between clenched teeth, eyes glaring out beneath her dark bangs.

Farlyse's twitching hand comes to the edge of the table, but then rests there when she hears the commotion from the other room. Her fingers inches from her blade, she stares at Grellik without breaking sight of him, not even to blink.

"Marr!" she barks. "... Check on it. I'll hold here. This one is not big enough to get past me."

"Typical." The knight says, tilting her head forward and staring at Grellik with a rage-curling lip. "You're here as assassins, liar. Admit your wretched untruths while you still have the opportunity, and I may not sever the heads from all of your companions once I've removed yours... Wherever they might be..."

Understood, thanks for specifying how you intend those rolls to be used.

If Farlyse had squared her shoulders to Grellik before, she now adjusted her posture with the figurative aid of a square-ruler. Her hand twitches up toward her sword and falls again as Grellik puts just the right of menace into his voice and body language.

While she doesn't yet act to move and risk losing any advantage in grabbing her sword and charging the bandit, she seems unconvinced by his words. Just further confused and agitated in fact.

"Bite your LIES, filth." She growls out, not buying what Grellik is trying to convince her of. "We are here because our master commands it, and because his master commands him! You can weave your lies of danger and heroism, but I'll not see you, or anyone else, pass further than my beating heart. If you intend to attempt such, you'll have to cease it's beating... But I doubt you have what it takes to end my years of service, Bandit!" she glowers.

Farlyse, on the far side of the table from Grellik cannot charge straight at him because of it, but it is clear from her expression after Dolson's whispered announcement that she has heavily considered it.

Instead, she takes a couple of step forward, moving her armored weight off of the wall behind her and approaching the table. While her hands make no movement to reach for her sword, she had moved within arms reach of it, her gaze darting briefly around the room to find only Grellik filling the doorway.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, and she looks briefly to the doorway with the piano sweeping out of it, before quickly back to the bugbear.

"Help? Help us with what?! I know of no Brundon! What trickery is this?"

The tension in the air around her is palpable, as if at any moment she will pick up her sword and mow through the table like a boulder to get to her foe.

Words should be chosen with great care.

Consider this a social encounter for the time being. Please include a charisma check of some kind as you negotiate with her, with failure potentially leading to a combat encounter. The words you speak will grant advantage or disadvantage or your back based on my standards unknown to the players. I will roll this in secret if applicable.