Gertrude smiles quite genuinely at Aelin. ”Certainly a bit more exciting than the usual fare.”
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Gertrude pulls out her dagger and slashes at the centipede as she steps backward to leave room for someone more oriented towards such a melee.
Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 16/12/14 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Arcane Bolts Used 3/7 Spells Active: mage armor 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
Gertrude moves up next to the door and peeks around, holding out her finger as she aims, holding her nose as she does. ”Absolutely disgusting.”
Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 16/12/14 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Arcane Bolts Used 3/7 Spells Active: mage armor 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
Gertrude leans back, smoking along as her brothers get the engineering issue figured out. Not an area she has ever been invested in, but probably worth a refresher soon. ”I can keep an eye out, too. My eyes with the glasses are better than most without.”
”I can set them on fire when when we get back, and I do think it is only right we liberate these bodies from the chains of undeath, but I agree it makes more sense to continue for now. Could quite likely be creatures about who are much less restrained who need a little flame much more urgently.” She casts a light cantrip on her palm, closing her fist around it and opening it again to test her ability to block the emanation at will.
Gertrude moves up into hallway and sees the melee going on. ”Ah, so I see that was not just a one-off and it is going to be one of those kinds of days.” She conjures a long-lasting magical protection for herself. Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 16/12/14 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Arcane Bolts Used2/7 Spells Active: 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
Gertrude shrugs at Aelin and Oldon’s and Hamarr’s praise. ”It was nothing more than the precision application of force and more than a bit of luck. One of you would have likely ended it moments later regardless of me.” She also takes a look around.
Gertrude adjusts her glasses and shifts her cigarillo in her mouth so the burning tip is lined up with her target in the angle of her vision. She is patient and waits for a moment she feels is right.
Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 12/12/10 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Arcane Bolts Used2/7 Spells Active: 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
Gertrude peeks around Halvar and shoots a blast of force at the little construct.
Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 12/12/10 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Arcane Bolts Used1/7 Spells Active: 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
”Ah, a clockwork construct. Usually made by gnomes, as Aelin implied. They are related to golems, so I doubt talking will be of much use.” She moves into the room for a better look.
After Halvar’s bow shot, she does not feel much need to exert herself overmuch as of yet, especially as she does not have a clear line to fire a bolt and knows better than to be on the frontline. She pulls out a cigarillo and ignites it with a Spark from a snap of her fingers. Not much point in trying to keep a low profile anymore. Gertruths: HP: 9/9 AC: 12/12/10 Saves: F2/R2/W4 Spells Active: 0: (Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Prestidigitation)
Gertrude would like to be smoking right now, though that is like saying she would like to be breathing, but she thinks better of leaving the scent around their passage right now.
She silently confirms to herself that Hamarr is right, but feels no need to reiterate what he has already said.
”You know, if it is all just as well, I can try opening doors with a bit more finesse, should you want to rest your shoulders from banging them into doors.”
Gertrude takes another drink. She’s happy to listen to her siblings talk and banter a bit. When you are as opinionated as she is, you learn to spend more time listening than talking when you need to be polite and avoid causing issues. Alas, with a subject under debate, she shall need to voice her opinion. ”My opinion is the same as Kalendra, both in preference and that I would rather stick together if the two are in conflict.”
Gertrude shifts her cigarillo. ”I have been called Gertrude by people who spit it out at me like cherry pit, and Sweetie-pie Trucy by people who meant it with the greatest of kindness and respect. As long as you are not showing me disrespect or making fun of me, I could not care less.”
Gertrude smokes while she nurses a whiskey. She does not appear to be particularly enjoying either, but that is just her way. ”Even if I was interesting in adventuring, and that is not a given, I do not think I would want to be another Ravenguard.”
Gertrude toasts with the others, but quietly. ”To family.” The second they are outside, Gertrude snaps her finger and lights her cigarillo with a spark. She closes her eyes and breathes in the heady smoke. She noticeably relaxes. There is something so stifling about parents—and particularly parents who mean well. They see you well enough to feel confident in their understanding, but not well enough to actually understand you in the way you want. She will always be the little rabble-rouser, without much thought given to why she is so invested in rousing this or that particular rabble. And because they are genuinely kind and caring, you cannot even be too mad at them for it. There’s simply nothing to be done. It feels surreal having all of her siblings around at once. She is not a particularly social person, but there is a natural obligation to socialize with your family on such occasions. All of her favorite activities are done alone or certainly not with family. Hopefully, at least one of her siblings has a worthy suggestion. ”If any of you have ideas on an activity for the evening that is not too disagreeable, I could find myself convinced.”
Gertrude has not said her peace—when has she ever?—but she knows when a ceasefire is more appropriate. She turns to Hal. ”I’ve been working my way through a collection of short stories by Herst Broadstout. The prose style is sparse, but he has talent at setting up compelling emotional conflicts regarding honor and duty instead of falling into cheap sentimentality or idealism. The reading equivalent of a dinner of well-made hard cheese, tough bread, and a bit of fruit: satisfying and reliable yet will never be ranked among the greatest meals of your life.” Thinking some cheese and bread does indeed sound good, she partakes. ”Oh, it’s called The Chronicle of Failures. What is this My Friends like?”
Gertrude takes the platter from Aelin with one hand while she idly twirls an unlit cigarillo in her other. She’s a glowerous woman, unremarkably academic in all other respects. Appearances have never meant much to her, and she dresses in comfortable, bland browns vaguely the same shade as her hair, which she keeps up and out-of-mind so she can keep more interesting subjects in-mind. Her glasses have been repaired more than once and bear the tiny scratches of glasses that have been cleaned too many times with whatever is at hand. She does not hide her frown at Hal’s mention of working with a priest, but she knows her disdain for such matters is well-known. If Hal has decided he wants to take up god-bothering, she can hardly change his mind with a harsh comment, though she can certainly indulge in a few harsh thoughts at least. She moves for a different argument instead. ”I still think that if citizenship is that important, it should be automatic for all. Having more social privileges simply because I could afford to spend two years at a desk is, frankly, ridiculous.” She takes a drink of wine and smiles, pleased with herself. ”Perhaps I can use that vote to say everyone gets to vote.” |