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On a crisp autumn morn, as the Saringallow Seekers are falling back into their ‘town lives’, Hawkren packs his kit and heads to the dock. As much as he affects a devil-may-care lifestyle, he is capable of extraordinary focus when it matters. And this matters. Nevertheless, he has to put on a show - so his hat is set at a jaunty angle and he puts some extra bounce in his step. He purposefully passes Wilitta’s House to observe the early risers amongst the ‘soiled doves’ and offers them a rakish, sweeping bow and a grin. He enjoys the wolf-whistles and the lewd offers in passing. Yes, young lady, that WOULD wake me up faster than coffee. He jumps aboard the first boat heading down river. His plans are simple. Get to the Irrica estate and keep his promise to Althea. He fervently hopes it will put her spirit to rest. She was the only Irrica he’d met or heard about that he actually likes. After that he would head north, back to Varisia: the Sonos Forest, Markham’s Abbey, home. After visiting his parents and inscribing Ladunappindon’s name in the family ledger… well, that’s when matters got interesting. Reflecting on this bout of adventuring, there were too many times when Hawk was scrambling from one physical threat or another. It was a helpless feeling when all he could do was ineffectively swing a stick at a measly skeleton. The unstated Hargraves family motto was “more magic” but Hawk had doubts. Dodging a problem seemed simpler than slinging more and more spells at it. So, maybe it was time to take up the Abbot’s offer…
Hawk finishes his sketches in record time and appends the Erinyes’ name to it. He makes no comment during Avomuntifex’s explanation but notes with small smiles where his guesses were correct. He was more right than wrong, which felt like something of an accomplishment. He watches the devil vanish through the gate feeling a combination of wistfulness and relief. Before Pava leaves, he delivers the final bit of news. ”Miss Irrica, your relation – Ms Adnen – asked that we let you know that she respects Cheliax’s decision regarding your bloodline and acknowledges you are the rightful Irrica heir. She has no interest in any Irrica properties or goods and will not dispute any of your inheritance, save the few ‘knick-knacks’ she received as part of her legal inheritance before you were named the heir.” With their duties complete, Hawk brushes the dust off his clearly magical hat (that swayed an Erinyes no less!), places it squarely on his head, and sets a leisurely pace down the path that would lead the group to Saringallow.
”My aunt Althea is dead. Explain what you mean, please.” ”Yes, Althea passed along with her betrothed around 4696. We spoke with her ghost. She’s a lovely lady. Her spirit seeks release and requested that we bury a pair of rings along with a cameo of Roderico – her beloved – in a spot where they had trysts, near the river at the summer house. I would urge you to agree with her request. She may still reside in her locket, which you now possess, or in the portrait of Roderico, which I hold. In either case, she was emphatic about her wishes.” ”We don’t know what your family history says about the couple’s deaths… but there may have been foul play. Her engagement ring was, in fact, a Raktavarna Rakshasha. Her accounts of her and Roderico’s behavior when they possessed the ‘ring’ bears that out. The creature manipulated them both without them being aware of its true nature… and possibly precipitated their deaths. In the process of uncovering this, we flushed out and destroyed the Raktavarna.” ”To what end?” It takes Hawk a moment to grasp what she is referring to. ”To what end? The sketch? Ah… It’s likely a silly reason to you. ‘Art for art’s sake’ – you cut a striking figure. I’ll likely never have the opportunity to sketch an Erinyes again. Someday I may paint a portrait or craft a tattoo of you. My plans are no more nefarious than that.”
With the deal concluded, Hawk becomes cautiously jovial. ”Madam, calling you ‘the Erinyes’ seemed less polite than trying to ascribe a name to you. And ‘Avo’ has some connection to these matters, so I used it. I am curious to hear the items’ histories, if Miss Irrica doesn’t object. Also, would you mind if I sketched you?” He adds an afterthought, "Also, Miss Irrica, we carry a message from your distant cousin that should please you and I will need your permission to visit the grounds of your summer house once more to fulfill a pledge I made to your Aunt Althea."
Without knowing the particulars of the cast spell, Hawk does roll his eyes at the sheer stupidity of the move. He can’t really fault the Erinyes’ analysis, save on one point, and it wasn’t worth debating... or maybe it was. ”Miss Irrica provided few details on the family history, so gaps in our knowledge are to be expected. But I do recall an interesting note from one or another of the Irricas about the ring protecting the bearer from the wrath of the family ‘Angel’. That might effectively keep the ring out of the angel’s hands forever, if isn’t just fanciful talk. Food for thought.” He turns his attention fully to the Erinyes. ”You are accurate about our abilities but you are wrong about my thinking. That said, if I am the ring-bearer and have an equal stake in this negotiation, then here is the compromise I propose so that all benefit. Miss Irrica will pay us four-fifths of the promised amount because we will deliver nearly all of the items retrieved, including some family keepsakes that were legally passed to her distant cousin. We will waive the costs we paid to acquire them. The ring we will return to Miss Avo," He abruptly cuts off before stringing the rest of the syllables of her name together. "... with her assurance that she will leave almost immediately without taking vengeance on any party. Then we shall be on our way and you, scions of Hell, can talk family history or whatever you like. Are those terms acceptable to everyone?”
Hawk comes up short on facts about Erinyes… possibly because her tight leathers and great hair are too distracting. That said, he’s inspired to do a tattoo based on her – assuming he lives through the next few minutes. He clears his throat politely. ”I’m not a hell-bound barrister. That’s redundant, I know. But it seems your issue is with her”, he waves in the direction of Pava and her armed retinue, ”not with us. I imagine your ring came into Irrica hands through some sort of compact… the terms of which you would like to amend. Or am I mistaken? If not, then you and Miss Irrica have a bargain to strike.” Hawk is fairly sure they aren’t going to weasel out of the middle of this fight that easily, but he gives it a try while preparing his second and third lines of argument.
"The rod may be blood-tied to the Irrica line, so we can't operate it in any case. Since Pava isn't paying us to solve that mystery, I'm happy to leave it to her. I just wanted to see what would happen if we could trigger it." He puts Roderico's portrait and the rings in a separate pocket from the locket. He doesn't trust Pava to fulfill Althea's wishes. And he earnestly believed in the ancient Varisian wisdom - passed down for countless generations - that says Să nu enervezi niciodată o fantomă. Varisian:
Never piss off a ghost.
"Having seen a few tattoos in Piren's Bluff, I can say that some of Iomedae's finest would find that nymph a bit tame." Hawk is somewhat reticent about piecing together the name. He speaks quietly, "With what we know of the Irrica history, this would seem to be the name of the family's erinyes guardian. I'm not sure if it will trigger the Rod or summon her. Either way, we might want to exercise a bit of restraint in a public place." Nevertheless, he mulls the pieces of the name: mun, ti, fex, Avo… Avomuntifex? Avotimunfex?
Hawk nods. "Allow me to confer with my companions to see how much money we can pool together."
The sorcerer is candid and somewhat embarrassed. "I only have 7 wheels to my name at this moment, which is not much of a contribution. I'm happy to even accounts when Pava pays us. What do you think?"
"I quite understand, ma'am. I wouldn't have taken this long but I didn't want to rush - and possibly anger - a ghost. We can get rid of the rakshasha. As I made a promise to Althea, I would like to take her locket and those rings with me at a minimum. May I ask what price you'd ask for those items? And then what price would you ascribe to all the rest - minus the silver studs Andama is fond of? And if the price is more than we can afford, would you consider our services in exchange?"
”I want to be clear, I don’t know the circumstances of yours or your beloved’s deaths… so I can’t say with certainty that the creature was the cause of either of them. But it did seem to influence you both to take and safeguard it.” His half-bow to her requests is a partial answer. ”We’ll certainly burn the raktavarna’s remains to ash. And I will see to it that Roderico’s portrait is buried at your meeting spot. You have my word.”
Hawk nods, a little grimly. ”That all… makes sense. I apologize; I need to deliver more distressing news. Please bear with me. I wish I could give you that ring, but I can’t. It wasn’t actually a ring, it was a small rakshasha, called a raktavarna. It’s an evil creature that imitates objects, such as rings. It is skilled at influencing people to do its bidding, even without their knowledge. You may have noticed Miss Andama is a little out of sorts. Shortly before we woke you, Miss Andama was acting much as you described. She was obsessive about the ring and didn’t want us to even look at it. When her mother forced the issue, the raktavarna emerged and compelled Miss Andama and the family’s bodyguard to attack us. We were forced to destroy the creature to free them from its dark influence. I suspect you and Roderico were both victims of the raktavarna as well. I don’t know if Roderico’s spirit is tied to the raktavarna’s body. I will bring it to you in the hopes that you can be reunited with him. But the creature no longer looks like the ring you remember.” The sorcerer retrieves the raktavarna’s body and presents it to Althea’s ghost.
Hawk has no good way to warn the Adnen ladies that discreetly exiting the room might be a good idea. He plays for time and focuses on determining if the raktavarna was her - highly questionable - engagement band or if, at some point in past decades, it had replaced the true ring. He has a feeling the facts might matter. "Your ring, did it possess any magical properties? Did you ever feel like it might be talking to you?"
Delaying the inevitable, Hawk brings over the rings in the collection to Althea. ”These were the rings in the collection. I don’t think any of them are as fine as what you describe. Did you have the ring made?”
Hawk doesn’t enjoy delivering the news, not on an emotional level or as a dry recitation of facts. ”We don’t have all the documents here, and I’m not a historian, so I’m going largely from memory. I trust my colleagues to step in when I get something wrong. Are you aware of the Goblinblood Wars? They started roughly a year after your… passing. Early in the war, the Irrica ‘summer house’ was attacked and ransacked. I’m sorry to say that is when most of your kin perished. Somehow, your niece survived and wound up in an orphanage and then made her own way in the world. Only recently has she proven to Cheliax that she is the Irrica heir.” He indicates Delara and Andama, ”These ladies are of the Adnen family which are distantly related to you through the Donato line, I believe. They received your locket along with some family keepsakes as an inheritance since there was no Irrica heir at that time. They have graciously allowed us to view the keepsakes.” Hawk falls silent, hoping the bad news mixed with information about her remaining family would provide the spirit with at least a small measure of comfort.
Hawk takes an involuntary step backwards. He tried to have no expectations after the locket spoke… but he wasn’t anticipating a full ghostly encounter. He offers the spirit a cautious bow, ”I apologize for breaking the bad tidings like that. Your…” he recalls the family tree, ”niece Pava, Asmodea’s daughter, is the lady to which I refer. Again, I’m sorry.” And please don’t suck the soul from my body.
He doesn’t answer the locket immediately as he runs through the possible magics within it. It could be similar to the painting, or a simple illusion, or something else entirely. It was perplexing to say the least. Narrowing the possibilities seems the best course. ”Good day, madam. I’m Hawk Hargraves. I’m working for the last Irrica heir to bring family keepsakes home. That said, bringing peace to a spirit is something I would do. May I have your name?”
After Emma finishes the evaluation with her divine gifts, Hawk picks up the locket and moves to the far side of the room. He holds his Wayfinder and triggers the Ioun stone to bolster his willpower before trying to open the locket. He doesn’t bother to hide his trepidation.
The sorcerer continues, pointing to the locket. ”There is a faint trace of magic on this. I can’t tell what sort of magic is upon it – either because the trace is so faint or it simply eludes me. I can rest and try again tomorrow to determine its type. The type of magic will provide clues as to what sort of dweomer is on it and what sort of danger it may pose. For instance, illusory magic would generally be less concerning than necromantic magic. But given the raktavarna and the locket’s ‘pedigree’ – the Irricas – I would have some concerns about it unless it was the most benign form of magic. Miss Blackford, do you sense anything innately evil about it… or any of these pieces for that matter?” He doubted Emma would find anything, especially since the trace was faint at best. But the theatricality of her efforts would probably reassure the girl and appeal to Delara. While Emma scrutinizes the objects, Hawk adds, ”I noticed there is a clever clasp on the locket. Have either of you opened it?”
”A raktavarna, I believe you called it?” she says to Hawk. ”And yes, I think that would be a good idea to check the rest.” Along with the items you have already perused, Andama removes a pair of silver studs from her ears and one from her nose, laying them on the table in front of her. With his mystical vision, he examines the silver studs first then returns them to Andama. ”These bear no trace of magic and should be as safe as they are pretty.” It was the only consolation he can offer the young woman after her experience. He continues. ”Yes, ma’am, a raktavarna… one of the lesser rakshasha. Like all rakshasha, they are evil and manipulative. They often reside in the shape of jewelry, weaponry, or some innocuous object. Waiting undetected, they pass through various owners until they find the right one.” He specifically avoids detailing what might have made the girl ‘right’ for its purposes. No sense in giving her nightmares and it was a certainty that Delara did not need a map drawn. He examines the other items and returns them to where they were sorted. The locket, he looks at longer than the other objects then cautiously pushes it aside with one finger and a tap – to alert Delara it stands out. ”After an incident like this, tea or food may help your daughter recover. Perhaps some food at the dining table for her would be in order?” Hawk leaves it to the lady of the house, how much of their discussion she’d like her daughter to hear.
”With your permission, ma’am, I’d like to use a spell to see if there are any more tainted items on them or in your Irrica inheritance. I may be able to detect some traces of baneful magics.”
”Hold her for a moment, ma’am. Your bodyguard is the larger concern.” With the girl restrained, Hawk slides around the table before throwing a magically conjured ball of webbing at the battling warrior.
Status: HP: 24 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): xx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Fear and delight. The sorcerer tries to step back and runs afoul of the dining room table. Hawk is delighted to see a raktavarna in the flesh… and ring. He is equally ‘dismayed’ when he realizes he is pinned against a table by three women, two of whom may be inclined to kill him. He spares a moment to determine his physical skills are yet again inadequate to the task of saving him. Despite his family’s opinions on such matters, Hawk was finding more and more reason to veer from the typical path. But that was a decision for another day. At the moment, he had larger problems. If he could just kill the rakshasha, maybe its spells would break. Of course, rakshasha weren’t without their defenses… ”A raktavarna rakshasha controls them both! It deflects magic and blows. Piercing or good weapons are best. ‘Ware the bite!” He doesn’t have time to say much else. He tries to weave a potent spell while avoiding the girl’s dagger and Emma’s sword. Managing to do both, he sends a bolt of fire into the creature’s flared hood and head, hoping his best spell can punch through its innate resistance.
Status: HP: 24 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): x Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
"Based on my own experiences, you never know what might catch a child's eye," Delara says. "In some ways I'd say the shell is most likely to capture a child's imagination, but also context could matter...” ”Honestly, the shell captures my imagination. It’s beautiful.” Hawk chuckles. ”I agree you never know what a child values. My mother has this odd and dark little painting in her study that I’ve always, well, it’s always stood out fondly in my memory for no reason I can name... But, we have to start somewhere since Miss Irrica isn’t particularly forthcoming about her childhood remembrances.” "This doesn't include the items my daughter now wears, including a ring which is the single most valuable item. While I'm not personally attached to any of it, she may be less willing to part with the pieces she's taken a shine to.” Hawk smiles, ”That is certainly the young lady’s prerogative. We would like your permission to speak with your daughter to at least discuss the matter. That way we can tell Miss Irrica we have dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’.” Having gone through the rings Hawk picks up the earrings Delara had dangled as well as the locket. He examines both objects carefully. He is almost relieved at the value of the goods. He had been bracing for an eye-bleeding price of thousands of gold wheels. Not that he had 500, 400, or even 280 gold pieces to spend.
The sorcerer-turned-tchotchke-collector briefly admires the shell and looks at it from all sides, seeing if there is anything carved into it, before putting it aside. He moves onto the rings (cheap or not) and begins sorting them by rough size before examining them. Mostly for Delara's benefit, he explains to his companions, ”We don’t know what Miss Irrica remembers. So, we’re looking for possessions a child might value. They could be child-sized. Or they could simply be unique – something that would stand out in a child’s memory. With luck we’ll find something with her initials scratched in it, the family motto, or their crest.” As he sorts then examines the pieces (leaving the promising locket until after all the rings), he asks, “Ma’am, you mentioned having an evaluation done. May I know how much this lot was appraised for? I assume your selling price will be north of that estimate.”
'Self-control' is the moment between seeing a desired thing and reaching for it. Hawk looks at the rich (and some cheap) goods with surprise, not touching anything, yet. ”I didn’t grow up with money… so I find it hard to reconcile that all this would be summed up as ‘minor possessions and trinkets’.” He turns to Delara, ”May we examine them more closely?”
Hawk nods, "We do, ma'am. And we'll convey your position on her inheritance to Miss Irrica when next we see her. It should please her."
The sorcerer enjoys a couple of the savory petit fours with a nod of thanks. Even while eating (and swallowing before speaking) he keeps his answers succinct and candid. ”I was aware that a claim had been made but not that it had been settled in the girl’s - well, woman’s - favour. Pava Irrica, is it?” ”Yes, ma’am, it is Pava Irrica. Cheliax recently decided the matter in her favor.” ”She wants the summer house down towards Swiftrun? Oh yes, I did my research and took a look at it.” Hawk chuckles, ”I agree. It will need a LOT of work, particularly after the Scorchfeather goblins made an example of its interior.” “Don’t worry, I know enough of Chelaxian law to know I have no claim to it and frankly it looked like a terrible investment… …I will add that per the law these came to me by right as there was no known heir at the time. I’m sure Ms Irrica is also familiar enough with the law to know this too, hence your choice of the term ‘acquire’, no doubt.” Addressing the undertone of Delara’s comments, he replies, ”Ma’am, none of us are barristers. We discovered the note about your inheritance ourselves during our search for information. I don’t recall any of us mentioning it to Miss Irrica. It’s possible she knew about the note beforehand and thought it funny to have us spend hours combing through old records. But we are here of our own accord. Miss Irrica didn’t send us to approach you.” He taps his backpack, on the pocket where the children’s toys are stored. ”But with our unimpressive finds at the ‘summer house’, we decided that coming to see you was a prudent choice to satisfy Miss Irrica’s desires.” He takes a sip of the flavored water, ”If I may be so bold as to say… I’m a Varisian, from Varisia. I’ve only been in this region for half a year. My dealings with the legal machinations of Cheliax have been few and unpleasant. If you and Miss Irrica wish to exchange legal blows over the summer house or your respective inheritances… I would be amused to hear about it. Miss Irrica isn’t the warmest employer. That said, we’d rather deal with you in a forthright manner so we can deliver a set of keepsakes to her and conclude our business with Miss Irrica as quickly as possible.”
Hawk removes his hat, without affectation, and offers her a half-bow. ”Good day, ma’am. My name is Hawkren Hargraves - tattooist by trade, adventurer by happenstance. With me are Majara, Emma, Nerissia, and Roger. They are indeed adventurers.” He indicates each one with a gesture. Hawk sits only after the lady of the house does. ”Thank you for taking the time to speak with us. We’ll be brief as your butler made it clear you are rather busy…” Hawk gets right to the point, ”We represent a distant relative of yours. As a child, she was thought lost along with the rest of the Irrica line in the Goblinblood Wars. In truth, she somehow survived the sacking of the family estate and the war, only to wind up in a Chelaxian orphanage for some years.” He continues. ”At any rate, she is digging into her lost history. She has hired us to retrieve items of her family and her childhood.” From his backpack, he removes a couple of the burned children’s toys and presents them to Delara. ”We recovered these from – we believe – what was left of her bedroom at the Irrica manor-house.” After Delara has a chance to view the toys, he carefully puts them away in his pack. ”Which brings us to your doorstep, ma’am. We found a record that said you may have received some ‘minor possessions and trinkets’ from the Irrica estate as part of an inheritance in the last couple of years. If you have, we’d appreciate a chance to view the trinkets with an eye to acquiring them for Miss Irrica.”
"It's a compliment, when the wind is blowing Northwest. But we might be feeling a Southeast breeze." With no other options apparent, Hawk steps up to the gate and knocks on it before stepping into the open gateway and calling out "Hellooo, the house! Visitors come!"
Shoulders dropping a bit, Hawk nods glumly. ”Majara, stop making so much sense. It’s an irritating habit.” He strokes his beard for a moment, ”Emma is an honest broker… disconcertingly honest. The price may be very high if we’re that honest. I’m prepared to shade the truth and see if a bargain can be reached. In terms of tactics, we’re inquiring about family mementos, perhaps with an eye to purchasing them. Nothing specific, and no talk of lockets. Are we agreed?”
Filled with optimism at his chances of success now that they have three related items, the sorcerer dives into his analysis of the Hellfire Rod. After an hour of ‘fiddling with it’, he feels he is closer to understanding it than ever before… but still, how to control it eludes him. I’d be better off using it for a ‘bonk stick’ than a magical tool!
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Certain today will be the day… Hawk experiments with all three items. He believes the conjunction of the items will finally reveal the Rod’s secrets. There is a bright moment of revelation… then it slips away.
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Hawk stares at the ‘Bonk Stick’ morosely while going through a recently purchased bottle of wine. Periodically, he mutters at it. Majara has some concerns for the sorcerer’s sanity. At the end of the day, he announces this was a ‘strategic reset’ and he wasn’t ‘brooding’.
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Possibly calling yesterday a ‘reset’ wasn’t entirely a rationalization or at least it wasn’t entirely wrong… because Hawk finally gets the better of the Rod after, only, seven tries. He finishes off the dregs of the yesterday’s bottle of wine in celebration (and relief).
Hawk finishes his sketches and puts his pad away. "I was very hot at the time because the librarian didn't appreciate me fanning myself... but if I recollect matters rightly, there is a distant heir in Valten - Delara Adnen - who might have inherited the locket along with some odd bits." He weighs whether they should head back to Saringallow or continue on. "If we head to Valten, it will give me a few more chances to decipher the mystery of that stick." He glares at Hellfire Rod as if it were a schoolboy nemesis.
”The writing appears to have been done by the same hand. Aside from that, I can’t make heads or tails of this infernal language!” He grins at his unintentional pun.
Hawk’s reply is succinct and applicable to both the Common and Draconic conversations, ”I’m gratified, my lady.” He pulls out his pad and begins sketching the dragon from her preferred angles and a few poses.
Hawk offers the dragon another half-bow, minus the flourish of his hat. ”As I’ll be visiting my parents shortly, I’ll deliver that compliment to them in person. Credit goes to their tutelage, not any gift I might have for words.” He fluidly shifts into the other language briefly, ”मैं घर आने पर हमारी चर्चा को पारिवारिक पुस्तक में शामिल करूँगा। इस तरह, अगर मैं मर जाऊँ, तो अन्य हरग्रेव्स मेरी प्रतिज्ञा को पूरा करने के लिए बाध्य होंगे। यदि आप कभी यात्रा करने के मूड में हों या आपको यात्रा करने की आवश्यकता हो, तो मार्खम एबे नामक एक गाँव है जहाँ सोनोस फ़ॉरेस्ट मालगोरियन पर्वत से मिलने के लिए ऊपर उठता है। गाँव से थोड़ी दूरी पर एक गोलाकार मीनार है। अपनी गहरी इंद्रियों के साथ, आप इसे मिस नहीं करेंगे। वह मेरा पारिवारिक घर है। आप एक स्वागत योग्य आगंतुक और सम्मानित अतिथि होंगे।” Draconic:
”I will add our discussion to the Family Book when I am home. That way, should I die, other Hargraves will be bound to fulfill my pledge. If you are ever in a mood or need to travel, there lies a village called Markham’s Abbey where the Sonos Forest rises up to meet the Malgorian Mountains. A short journey from the village is a circular tower. With your keen senses, you won’t miss it. That is my family home. You would be a welcomed visitor and honored guest.” The sorcerer switches back to the common tongue, hand ready to pull his backpack down ”My lady, would you mind if I sketched you? There will be nothing to identify you or where we stand. After the battle with the drakes, I’m sketching everyone with a mind to trying my hand at painting.”
Hawk doesn’t quail under the dragon’s gaze. His smile is genuine. ”शायद, थोड़ा गंभीर, मेरी महिला।” He takes on a more earnest tone. ”मैं चेतावनी की सराहना करता हूँ... लेकिन मैं अपने प्रस्ताव पर कायम हूँ। यह मेरी ओर से साहस से ज़्यादा पारिवारिक परंपरा है। इस्गर में 'हार्ग्रेव्स' का कोई मतलब नहीं है लेकिन वारिसिया में कुछ लोग हमें जानते हैं। हम एक रहस्यमय परिवार हैं, एक अटूट वंश, जिसका इतिहास अलौकिक दोस्ती का है। हमारी निष्ठाएँ मानव जाति या एकल जीवनकाल से कहीं आगे तक फैली हुई हैं। मेरी हिम्मत या अभिमान, शायद, यहाँ एक रिश्ते का बीज बोने की कोशिश में है। चुनाव पूरी तरह से आपका है।” Draconic: His smile is genuine. ”Perhaps, a touch serious, my lady.” He takes on a more earnest tone. ”I appreciate the warning… but I stand by my offer. It is more family tradition than boldness on my part. ‘Hargraves’ means nothing in Isger but we are known to some in Varisia. We’re an arcane family, an unbroken line, with a history of eldritch friendships. Our allegiances extend well beyond humankind or single lifetimes. My boldness or hubris is, perhaps, in trying to plant the seed of a relationship here. The choice is entirely yours.”
Hawk watches the gnome-turned-dragon-turned-aerialist cavort with a sigh that falls somewhere in the thorny ground betwixt appreciation and envy. ”Being as I have you down as intelligent folk, I trust you’ve worked out what’s happening here?” it asks drily. Having practiced his hat-doffing in town, Hawk does a smooth swoop with his feathered titfer and offers the lady-dragon a half-bow. ”Why, yes! My hat is even more magical, having transformed you into a dragon.” He offers, with a wink. He continues, a large measure less confidently, in a different tongue. ”मुझे आपकी मदद करके बहुत खुशी हुई, मेरी महिला। एक हार्ग्रेव के रूप में, हम अपने परिवार की वंशावली में कम से कम एक ड्रैगन को गिनते हैं... और वह भी इस संबंध में बहुत गर्व की भावना के साथ। इसलिए... अगर कोई और सेवा मैं कर सकता हूँ - अभी या भविष्य में - तो मुझे सम्मानित महसूस होगा।” Draconic: ”I am very glad to have helped, my lady. As a Hargraves, we count at least one dragon in our family line… and that with an immense sense of pride in the connection. So… if there is any other service I can render – now or in future - I would be honored.”
”Matters went well and we solved a mystery. Goblin-dogs were the guards… and the reason you never got in here without facing a drake is because there were two of them. Alas, no longer. We also found three chests of treasure – two of them unopened. If that is the sum of your personal wealth, it’s intact and waiting for you.” He smiles, ”I’d credit the intrepidity and strong weapons of my allies for the victory… but I believe my new hat provided the extra amount of luck needed to win the day. Sunarinda is a millinery wizard.”
"Well," Hawk says, wiping his hands on his pants for no obvious reason, "I'll go fetch Nappin so we can collect our reward. I suppose we'll all have to practice fending off Pava on the way back to Saringallow. She strikes me as the sort to get all weepy and handsy with gratitude... typical Golden Erinyes behaviour."
"Right, who's hurt badly?" ”Badly? I wouldn’t say badly…” Hawk looks across the battlefield punctuated by the two very large bodies. ”We need an artist to immortalize this moment.” He chuckles, ”I forgot… that’s me.” He pulls out his sketchbook and charcoal then begins sketching the fallen monsters. He also sketches the team… whether they stand still for it or not.
Status: HP: 12 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): xxxx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
In the sudden silence, the sorcerer glances at his comrades. Some are hurt but no one is dead or even face down. That was as good an outcome as could be hoped. Lucky. ”I think we won,” he offers speculatively. Status: HP: 12 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): xxxx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
With the goo impeding the monster’s attacks, Hawk could try to impede it a bit more or try to finish the fight by piling on damage. It was a flip of a coin as to which would help best. He hopes that extra damage will bring the matter to a close before the drake can strike again. "Just die already." He mutters.
Status: HP: 12 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): xxxx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Hawk races forward and casts a spell. A torrent of golden sparkles rain down on the drake. Blind it, please blind it!
Status: HP: 12 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): xxx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Hawk goes from jubilation to consternation to constipation in a matter of seconds. Fuuuuuu… The game was largely the same. They needed to draw it in close to kill it. When the smoke clears, the paladin can be seen standing next to the body. ”Fall back, Emma!” The sorcerer’s options were limited. He needed the beast closer, and hopefully among his allies, before his better spells could be employed to full effect. So, it was time to tempt fate a second time. He sends a set of force missiles into this monster’s face. Then, he steps forward and draws a line in the dust of the cave with his toe and issues a challenge in as strong a voice as he can muster with a suddenly arid mouth. ”मैं हॉकरेन हार्ग्रेव्स हूँ! मेरी नसों में असली ड्रैगन का खून बहता है। मैं तुम्हें इस गुफा को छोड़ने और कभी वापस न आने का एक मौका देता हूँ। यहाँ रहो और तुम नष्ट हो जाओगे! अब भाग जाओ, कीड़ा!” Draconic:
”I am Hawkren Hargraves! True dragon blood flows in my veins. I give you ONE chance to leave this cave and never return. Stay and you will be destroyed! Flee now, worm!” Hawk tries to look ferocious, determined, and resolute standing behind the line he’s drawn. If he were being honest, he feels more queasy than indomitable.
Status: HP: 12 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): 1st Spells (7): xxx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Hawk catches the full blast from the drake’s fireball, leaving him smoldering. On the ‘up side’, he thinks, it did solve the goblin-dog problem. Now, unfortunately, he has to make sure the hook is baited properly to compel the monster to fly into the trap. He turns toward the dragon as he signals Nerissia and Alocer to fall back and yells, as if speaking to them, ”यहां तक कि दांतविहीन शिशु ड्रेगन भी खतरनाक होते हैं। आगे बढ़ो!” Draconic:
”Even toothless baby dragons are dangerous. Get moving!” He turns to the dragon long enough to send a trio of force bolts into the beast’s face, then sprints for the exit as quick as he can.
Status: HP: 10 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): 1st Spells (7): xx Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Hawk peers into the darkness of the enormous cave and thinks this is a really, really, bad idea. Then he lifts his staff to shoulder height and ‘accidentally’ drops it so it bounces and rattles loudly off the stone floor. He snatches it up quickly and half-turns to apologize to the others waiting behind him, also a shade louder than a whisper.
Status: HP: 20 / 24 | AC: 19 / T:14 / FF:16 | CMD:16
2nd Spells (4): x 1st Spells (7): Dancing Lights (3): Effects:
Hawk throws the cloak around the pirate's shoulders. "It doesn't protect you from fire but if you're hit by fire, it creates the illusion you've been killed - burnt down to ash and bone. At the same time, it makes you invisible so you can sneak off or up to someone."
He adds an afterthought. "I think Roger - or perhaps Nerissia - should wear the fiery cloak. It may give them a chance to creep up on the monster unseen and deal a mortal blow."
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