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Genryl gives a shudder, and clutches the flagon of wine he always has to himself. He takes a few deep breathes and a swig of teh wine before starting with, "It was terrible. There was Eylysia, and a group of others as well as three members of what was likely the Decemvirate, given their masks. One wore a triple thorned eyeless mask, another one had stag antlers, and the third had a crystal-studded black domino mask. They attacked Eylysia and her people. In the vision we replaced her companions and fought them off, but we also saw what actually happened and everyone was slaughtered... but the worst of all was that there was no wine! I had to make do with terrible tein rice wine! It was horrendous!"
Genryl steps into the mists and then tries to lash out at the man in the red mask, clearly not happy about how long it has taken his legs to get around to here. Stupid stubbly gnome legs! He takes up a fighting position and tries to puncture the skin of the masked person.
The small gnome-human-dwarf-looking oread then pulls out another bottle of rice wine and spritzes a small amount of it onto Spar keeping him large.
Genryl furrows his brows and then pulls out a small thing of 'wine' though this proves to be a Tian rice wine and not a true grape wine. He sighs mentally and instead focuses on helping the melee combatants out instead. He slides next to Salpa-Barbarian and starts to incant a spell, drawing magic through the wine and infusing it with power.
Genryl looks about the new room and pauses for a moment, blinking as he realizes that something is off... were gnomes ever that tall. And good grief those humans, elves and half-elves are positively towering above everyone! It takes the man a moment to realize he's the on who is smaller, as he tugs at the odd clothes and realizes he recognizes no one in the room. He quickly finds a mirror in the mess of a belt pouch on his belt and then gives a bark of laughter as he sees a gnome staring back at him. Readjusting the eyebrows, he mentally tests his divine connection to Halcamora and is relived to find that it still is there. In a higher, squeakier and much faster paced voice, Genryl comments, "Sorry I got distracted there, Why were you waiting for us again?"
Genryl gives a grin at the reactions of his colleagues. "Well, I'm excited to see the leadership of the society. It speaks to the importance of what is being done here. Also might be a good idea to calm down. Nervousness can ruin an impression. Alright let's practice some deep breathing. In..... Out...."
Genryl keeps an eye on Eranahu t make sure that the cloak isn't having an adverse effect on him on the way back to the meeting point. He does offer to share something to drink along the way with anyone wanting. As they get back to camp, Genryl moves right up to the stew and takes a deep breathe. "That smells amazing... Hrmm I think a Malbec would go great with this... Hrmm and you could add a splash or two for some depth if you want. But before that, thank you for getting a stew together for us! It looks and smells positively delicious!" He sits down with a glass of wine and a bowl of stew, and then adds, "Zornesk covered most of it pretty well. We made contact with the spirits and convinced them we meant no harm, or had to deal with one that wasn't willing to converse. We were able to get what we came for, Eranahu is wearing it over there."
Genryl watches everyone as they pull up their hoods and...
The dwarf-like man then steps forward and looks at the cowl, using a wave of his hand and a flick of wine to see that it is magical, though he can determine little beyond that. "Eranahu is at least partially right it seems magical. And probably not cursed as our fried was able to wear it and remove it without troubles. Anyone want to try it? I'm not sure how Halcamora would view me using something intimately tied to another deity though."
As soon as the pumpkin head explodes, Genryl gathers everyone around and pulls out his holy symbol. He raises it up and a wave of energy, that for all intents and purposes looks like a wave of sparkling wine, washes out from the symbol and over everyone gathered. Bubbles start to form over wounds, pulling the pain and leaving healed flesh behind as they rise to the surface.
He then takes a swig of his wineskin and trundles up to the building with everyone. He gives the woman a slightly puzzled look, and then comments as a way of testing her reaction, "Are you why the plants here are growing so unusually? It's rare to see thickets this thick and persnickety without some kind of guidance. Anyways we are here tacking the history of the Pathfinder Society we heard there was something to do with them in this grove. I personally would never abide defiling the plants of a place, as my goddess would likely smite me herself. Though, I don't know how much we can help in aiding it's protection.... Would you like to chat about it over some wine?"
Genryl takes a moment to try understanding the growth patterns in the trees and other plants, but his specialties in grapes and vines seems pointless here.
He gives a shrug, these weren't his plants and a green thumb only helps in long term relations with plants. "Well, I think we should move on in. Doubt anything good will happen if we just stand around waiting for something to happen. And if something bad happens, having done it myself would be preferable to having it done to me." Genryl then tries to push into the bushes in the least disruptive way he can find.
Genryl stays pretty quiet walking through the forest. He sips his flask that likely has some wine of some sort in it and watches the trees as they go by. His demeanor goes from his usual happy go-lucky to a much less congenial look as he finds the flora... Off.
"Given the feeling here I think this place thinks we're trouble. Wonder what could cause this almost gloom to settle in here. These trees at least seem living versus the ones at the entrance."
Genryl nods at Zornesk. "Thank you little one! Those cuts were going to sting badly if I left them much longer. Should be okay with the cuts I gave left. Now what's over this way?"
"Well this is a ripe mess. Might need to inform Helga there might be more goblins down this way... Khabash! You okay. Something happen?"
Genryl creates another globbule of rose wine and flicks the specks onto Spar fueling his large size again. He then prays that Halcamora help heal the larger Spar, forgetting the protection spell he memorized this morning. His hand covers in a sparkling white wine and Genryl marks some of Spar's exposed wounds with it, causing them to knit together. "Good job being a giant wall there Spar!"
He then lets the holy symbol drop back onto the chain around his neck and grabs his spear again ready to give blue a hard time if he tries anything. AoO?:
To keep from clogging the gameplay thread, Genryl has the Varisian pilgrim archetype, that allows him to declare people as part of his caravan and then use domain abilities anyone in his caravan within 30' as if they were himself. CARAVAN BOND (Su):
At 1st level, by leading a group prayer for 1 minute, a Varisian pilgrim can select a number of traveling companions equal to her cleric level + her Wisdom bonus. She may use her domain-granted powers on any of these traveling companions as if they were her. She can use these abilities on her traveling companions at a range of up to 30 feet, even if the ability normally requires her touch. This ability replaces the cleric’s proficiency with medium armor and shields— she retains proficiency with light armor only. This might also be another point in the favor of the 'can enlarge Spar' argument, the 'as if they were her' aspect might mean that it uses Genryl's types (humanoid (human) and outsider (native)) instead of the target's types.
Genryl steps away from the fighting and with the holy symbol of Halcamora gripped in one hand incants a short prayer, "Bless this earth and this petitioner with your bountiful rains!" Above him a small hole opens and a giant downpour of what looks like white wine, though has no smell, rains down on the 'dwarf' and his gear, setting out the fire. The cleric then looks over at Spar and asks, "How do you feel about being bigger?" If he says yes: Genryl takes the holy symbol and holds it out in his open hand for a second, a small glob of a rosé forming in it. He closes his hand around the glob, coating his fingers in the liquid before flicking it at Spar, accompanied with a single, "Thrive!" in prayer.
Genryl groans inward at the vision, "Droskar, the dark and shameful part of the dwarven pantheon. This seems like some kind of ritual... that went wrong. Careful about taking that hammer, it might still be enchanted. Actually given how everything else is bones here and it's not degraded at all, it most certainly is enchanted, though if it'S a curse or not I know not... But first let's handle the goblins hanging out down here, as goblins this close to the mines proper is never going to be a good thing." He looks over at Zornesk, "Thanks for the worry, but I should be okay. I never really spent more than a month or two with my dwarven relatives. So while I know about things, I have some distance on these types of things." He moves back to the West, his long spear in one hand, holy symbol in the other, as he moves forward. "Seems we have company, let's get moving. We can take care about that hammer later, no?"
Genryl moves into the space and frowns. The bones probably belonged to some poor dwarf, or dwarves if that happened to be a second skull over there, who got dragged down here against their will. He sighs and mentally prepares to later gather the bones up and possibly perform the necessary rituals for a proper dwarven burial. He looks up and comments, "Well if there are paths all over here it's unlikely that there would be any traps here, much more likely on a different path. Let's got find these probable Droskar followers... preferably before they harm someone else."
Genryl gazes around the place, he hadn'T visited the Five Kingdoms for ages and this was also his first time coming to the Spire at that. He then plods over to Helga, extending a hand. "Pleasure to meet you Helga. I'm Genryl Vinebrewer. My father was from this part of the world and I still have some relatives out this way, but we never talked about the Spire much, and I will admit I'm curious as to the construction and why it exists!" He listens to her explanation with rapt attention, looking down all the tunnels with interest and ducking under some of the lower ceilings, clearly a bit taller than the expected user. He doesn't move to pull out a torch or light source, his eyes seeming to not need them. At the end of the patrol route, Genryl pulls out a small bottle and hands it over to Helga and Urgrin, "Here have a small sample bottle of wine, I get these occasionally and don't need them too often. I hope you enjoy it, and wish I had something of an ale or harder for you. Thanks for showing us around!"
. "みなさん、四季神様をお迎えできて光栄です。 区をできる限り保護することを心からお約束します。いつか美術館全体を区とみなしていただければ幸いです,"
Genryl pauses somewhat surprised to hear the museum manager speak in Tien. Though he could be centuries old, so I guess it's less of a surprise than one would think... Genryl then stares at the stacks of materials and frowns. He knows none of this, at best he might be able to sort through things based on his experience with handling wine, but that would probably be less than useful here... He decides to help whoever seems best suited to handle this.
Genryl gives a smile as the small kami takes his offering of wine, but frowns at Mercival as he sets the creature on edge again. "Shhh. Quietly. Slowly. Like you're bandaging the wounds on a man who has lost his senses." Genryl then very very slowly tries to approach the little figure and comfort it.
Genryl realizes as soon as the food gets flung back at his face that he choose the wrong offering for this kind of thing. He pauses and thinks for a moment before pulling out a different bottle.
He holds up a small blue bottle of what looks to be a white wine. He looks to everyone else and asks "Anyone have a quick way to chill this? It's best served cold..." If someone chills it or not, he pops the cork out and pouts out some of the beautifully sweet smelling wine. "This should suit the shikigami better! An ice wine from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings. Now to see if it likes this or not..."
Genryl's face lights up as someone recognizes his wine and clearly shares some of his passion. With what almost looks like a rosy tinge to his cheeks above his beard, he responds with a emphatic "Yes, it most certainly is! From the Werebriar Vineyard as well. A minor vineyard to be sure but they produce solid quality wine and bottles don't tend to be prohibitively expensive. You should definitely have a taste... or if you're not able to drink on the job, you can have the rest of this bottle, we should get moving and I have a second one for later. Consider it a gift for the opportunity to look at your supplies and for letting us eat and drink in here." He then pops out a bit of wax to act as a cork, plugging the bottle and hands it over to Mercival. After that he makes sure that everyone else has had their fill of snacks before re-wrapping them and putting them back into his pack. In the next room he watches the shikigami for a little bit, taken with the little thing and curious as to what might make it tick. He looks over at Mercival and comments, "I've heard these little guys can be considered good luck if they stick around. Lucky you, though it might now seem like that right now... Uhh mind if I borrow that bottle for a moment? I hear it's common to offer kami some kind of food as offerings." He hauls off his pack and then pulls out some of the sausages, bread and cheese from earlier and then a small flat dish in which he pours a little of the Riddleport '25 into, offering the small meal to the shikigami.
Genryl holds onto the wand tucking it into his belt and then joins everyone in looking over the chronicles and everything else, but quickly realizes he would be in over his head if he tried helping and instead looks to set up a small repast if the museum people allow. He pulls out some hard bread, dried sausages, some pungent cheese and a good red wine to go with it all. "If you get peckish, there's some snacks over here. Go light on the wine, it can be a strong one and we are working."
The alchemist shakes his head, looking over at the paladin. "I doubt that last interpretation. I'm the humblest of people." Genryl gives a small good natured laugh at the irony of Kabash's last statement. "It could be a game of who is the most dominantly humble, but if you think that is unlikely then keep an out out for something that tries to posses you." Genryl trots up to the museum curator and extends a bulky hand. "Pleasure to meet you! The name is Genryl Vinebrewer. My friend's have explained the main reasons we are here, but on a personal note, do you have any displays on vinting, fortune telling, or Halcamora? I'd love to see them, if you do!"
Genryl smiles as he looks about the place. "Fancy! Way more than I expected. Oh, is that gold fixtures on that door over there? Swanky!" He settles in to wait as he pulls out one Madame Zolstra's breakfast pastries that he bought before heading out this morning. After a moment to luxuriate in the consistenly amazing tastes of something that ought be in the museum than half the displays he snaps his fingers. "Right! While we are waiting, why don't I give everyone a simple reading? Just step over here and pull out a card. I'll try interpreting what it means for the mission! If you don't want to then just say so!"
MacDermot:
"The Idiot... Not a great card to be pulled in this situation. I represents grave foolishness or greed. Their might be bribery, blackmail or extreme naivety ahead for you. Be careful of lose of dignity as it could lead to lose of life as well." Eranahu:
"Oh the forge! Not a bad card to pull. It could indicate either your strength, showing your source of strength comes from your diversity, or it could mean that there will be a challenge in the future that need many sources of strength to overcome." Zornesk:
" The Rakshasa... This is a pretty clear cut card. Something is probably going o try dominating you, either through slavery or something akin to it or more likely a magical effect. Be careful you don't fall to it." Spar:
"The twins. This is not a card I like to see, at best it means you're split between two decisions. Worse it could mean that you have devised loyalties. At worst it could mean there's another side underside to this whole thing. Anyways decide quickly and try prioritizing things quickly. Oh and pray there's not a second side to all of this! " Khabash: " The Rakshasa, again? Well as I told Zornesk. This is a pretty clear cut card. Something is probably going o try dominating you, either through slavery or something akin to it or more likely a magical effect. However given you both got that card, I'd almost say it sounds like the two of you will be in a dominance game during this mission."
In the back of the room, wine glass in one hand, a lovingly worn harrow set under the other, sits a dwarf with a long brown beard done up in tight ringlets and a bright violet varisian scarf. A gold hoop hangs from both ears. He looks up, finished with a harrowing, and spots the grippli and kobold talking with a few humans and a rock person, clearly Pathfinders. He reverently gathers the cards and puts them away in case, before picking up his cloak and pack with a longspear strapped to one side. He stands up, and the estimation of him being a dwarf muddles some, as a dwarf would never reach the 5-foot something that this man has, but the size and beard would be hard for a human to grow, especially one with clearly varisian origins. He tosses on his wine red cloak across his shoulders, showing that the inside of it has been lined with hardened leather strips. He then dons his backpack emblazoned with the stylized grapes and jar that mark him as a follower of Halcamora. He wanders up to the rest of the group on his hardened bare feet and flashes an easy going smile. "You must be the other pathfinders. Not often that a grippli and a kobold get to talking with humans in a tavern in Varisia. Anyways it's a pleasure to meet you; I'm Genryl Vinebrewer. It's been a while since I'Ve been on a mission, but I'm looking forward to working with you." He looks about the place before asking, Is it just me, of does Krighton call for briefings in taverns quite a bit? I mean the Pig's Paunch and now The Minstrel's Midwife? Not that I'm complaining! Any place with some wine is a good place... which is always why I have some on me!"
Player Name: Sedoriku
There's not a trace of a smile on Ella's face as she responds, "Oh I don't know. Seems to me we can still find vengeance." Genryl's face on the other hand is plastered over with a smile that is more a baring of teeth than an actual smile. "Well that was very informative. First, You are the instigator of this 'rebellion.' Second, we can probably take a good stab at why you started it, someone mistreat you in the past, steal your pastry? Third, you have a terrible accent, who says 'unrool' like that? But my friend is right, we can at least exact vengence and make sure you and you're companions do not have a place in the new leadership, maybe we can even step in and help ensure things move smoothly, now that the rotten bunch of grapes has been removed and burned!" He looks at his companions to double check they agree with him.
Genryl gathers everyone together away from the people they just kncked out. "Hold on for a second, I'm going to all down the power of Halcamora." He holds his holy symbol aloft and concentrates for a second before a wave of energy that almost looks like a fountain of a sparkling white wine starts to flow from the symbol, dousing everyone in a good thirty feet in the 'liquid' energy. Little bubbles form over exposed skin and open wounds in particular, and they quickly float up as the energy fades, leaving healed skin and a light-hearted, giddy feeling behind. gEnryl then frowns at how little it healed and pushes out a second pulse.
He then pulls out a small potion bottle and takes a sip from it, before grimacing. "Gods this is terrible! It's almost on the point of turning into vinegar! Ughh. Mind if I use another to wash the taste out?"
Genryl, his wounds fully closed, steps up next to Sirius. "I've got an enlarge person spell left if you want to swing extra hard in the next fight!" Otherwise the man prepares his divine favor spell to use right before they head into the fight.
Genryl takes a second to realize that only Perrine is moving to engage and looks back at the rest of the party. "Uhhh, Have I been plying you guys with too much wine? These are the people who are going around murdering people to try incite a revolution, and you're just going to stand there? Do I need to do a proper Harrow reading after this to prove that these people are bad news?"
Genryl gives an unhappy glare at the four men in the room and snarls slightly, "Alrighty which one of you was asking for it?" Not even waiting for an answer, the cleric pulls out his longspear and tries to clear an open space for the rest of his friends to safely enter the room.
"Hopefully that proves my words do carry weight!"
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