With a shrug, Horatio motions to Feora and follows Olivius south. "Desna's a fickle mistress," he mutters. "One can do better than to believe in luck."
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Fueled by his downing of another of the tiny lizard-folk, and with Feora's blessing echoing around the music in his head, Horatio makes his way past Olivius. "We aren't going to take them down with you just standing there," he chuckles, taking a shot at one of the closer ones.
Woohoo! Our healbot - er, I mean, the lovely lady, is back! :D
I'm glad you didn't forget about this game, GM! I may or may not have wept a little when I saw your post. I'm happy to continue this. I suppose I would have appreciated some transparency, but you're here now, and that's the most important thing. I'm glad you've figured out what was going wrong, and found ways to work around it. The most important thing is that everyone has fun, after all.
I hope not. I like having more chances to torment you.
*poke poke*
*blows off dust*
Sorry to see you go. I was hoping this would pick up again soon. Going to miss Trig and Fligg.
Wool! You're out! :D You all good?
Drawing his shortbow, Horatio takes aim at one of the nearest kobolds. The creatures may be weak, but in these numbers... He shakes his head, clearing his mind of the thought, and looses his arrow.
Trying to stay in front of Feora as best he can, Horatio begins his performance. At least the acoustics in such a large cavern were decent.
Hills - good to hear. Glad she's enjoying it. =) Feora - Good gods, man! What happened??
So... How did the first day of school go? That's a big milestone :-)
Woohoo! Glad to have you back, Hills!
I've never played a scenario of such a high level. Best thing that's ever happened to me in PFS would either be the fire-breathing goblin horse, or Erasmus perfectly executing the old peek-a-boo.
I'm still here. Life happens, mate. Fret not. :-)
Horatio takes one look at the room before nudging Olivius in the ribs. "I say you go first." He nods in the direction of the bridge.
Horatio returns somewhat calmer, as though the act of escorting the former prisoners cleared his head and refreshed his body. He gestures for Olivius to lead the way down the next path - "After you, meat shield." The usual calmness and swagger has returned, for now.
Oooh, lucky thing! Where are you going? :D
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Bellathi, it's probably time for you to get back to town." With a pained smile, Horatio begins to escort the former prisoners back out of the caves. "Feora, I trust you won't let Olives bleed out while I'm gone?"
Horatio raises an eyebrow at Feora as she fusses over Olivius. "He's seen worse, you know. Soon he'll start hurting himself just so he can be patched up." Though if that's what one has to do to get your attention... He shakes his head, fousing instead on helping the former prisoners to their feet. "Come on, let's keep moving."
"Before you go," Horatio interjects, "what are your names? So we know how to find you again. And what did the kobolds have you do? Were you digging?"
Horatio attempts to calm the sobbing woman, clasping her hands gently. "Shhh, it's alright," he says reassuringly, offering a small smile. "We'll get you home, okay? Where's your family farm? We can take you back there." When he looks at the other two prisoners, rage burns in his green eyes, simmering just below the surface of his otherwise calm face. "They'll pay for that, mark my words," he says softly, keeping his voice level with some effort. "If we can't take you home, we can at least get you somewhere safe. Come on," he announces to the group. "We have a new priority. The kobolds can wait another couple of hours."
"Du hade din chans, ödla-kin," Horatio shrugs, before attempting to stab the kobold before him again. As he does so, the chorus echoing in the air fades out, leaving only the sounds of battle.
Draconic: "You had your chance, lizard-kin!"
Wait, ER? You ok??
"Du är ganska säker för dessa små varelser!!" Horatio calls back to the kobolds, taking another stab at the kobold before him. "Lägg ner era vapen, och vi ska vara barmhärtiga!"
Draconic: "You're rather confident for such tiny creatures! Lay down your arms, and we'll be merciful!"
Just as Horatio's voice finds some footing, so to speak, he hears Feora saying something behind him - and next thing he knows, she's smacking him on the backside. His voice cracks, the last note coming out strangled and short, but the song continues to bound off the walls, echoing around the cavern. He glances back at Feora in amazement, opens his mouth to say something, and shakes his head, deciding against it. Instead, he draws his rapier, stabbing at the kobold closest to him.
No time. The thought races briefly through Horatio's mind. There was no time to react, no time to draw Rosaline before the kobolds would be on Olivius, no time to begin that performance, that glorious music to sharpen senses and increase muscular power. Acting purely on instinct - and to his own amazement - he begins to sing. It isn't much - it's little more than an old Varisian melody he heard years ago, from someone long gone - but it's enough. Surely the feeling rising from his diaphragm feels like that golden light that's so familiar on his fingertips... Perhaps it was just the acoustics. Had to be.
Horatio follows Olivius, clapping the... now much larger man on the back, somewhere around the lower ribs rather than the shoulder he was used to. "Looks like the kobold hunt will have to wait, eh?" he asks, before crouching next to Trig, also attempting to provide the people with some comfort. "How did you get down here?" he asks, rummaging through his pack for some food. "Can you tell us anything about this place?"
We all do. Mum's given up on her.
She changed her mind... it isn't happening. =[
Guys... It's finally happening. My sister is coming home.
Still wondering why he's here, Horatio follows.
Honey. Sweet and smooth, but goes even better with liquor. ;-)
You saucy minx. This isn't fair, you know. :p
He's cherry. Because cherry-flavoured anything is BS, because it NEVER tastes like cherry. Only cherries taste like cherry. What I'm saying is that Olivius is a jerk. Gideon's an alright guy, though.
*Kermit flail*
Yeah, please don't. I'm spooked enough as-is! :P Though I just ran a google image search on myself, and I had to scroll down five pages before finding something of mine - a photo I took of a local 80s cover band. So... maybe I'm safe?
Woah okay you've freaked me out. Note to self, stop telling Gideon s~~@ about myself, lest he hunt me down. :P I've been seeing a psychologist for about a year now. I think it's helping, and my GP's been prescribing meds. I'm not relying on internet strangers for psychological aid, don't worry - but sometimes, just blurting it all out helps.
I know. You're far from the first person to tell me this, and I know you're right. She got out once, we're all just hoping she will again. And I feel selfish and awful for saying this, but it's messing with my mental state something savage.
Warning: I've put on my ranty pants: She left him once. She showed up at home with a bag, then went back with a police escort to get her dog. He wasn't there at the time, but if he had been... well, we were all hoping he'd take a swing at cop, because then it would be straight to jail for the little bastard. This all happened while I was at my boyfriend's for a few days - mum called to tell me the news, and it was the best news I'd had in months. When I drove home that night, he was waiting on the front porch, obviously looking for her. I drove around the corner and called the police in a blind panic; by the time they sent a cruiser around, he was long gone. By this point, the weasel and I had history - the catalyst for my sister moving out with him was when he decided to intervene in a sisterly dispute and told me to "back the f+$$ down or I'll knock you the f%$& out". In my own living room, I should add. I spent the next three days at my dad's, too afraid to go back to my own home. And, once my sister was back home, she left the house to buy smokes, and went right back to him, saying that they'd 'worked it out'. She has an intervention order against him - a basic one, saying that if she reports him so much as harassing or threatening her in any way, he'll be taken in. But of course, she has to notify police, which she won't do. It's damn near killing my mother. When she went back to him, mum had a nervous breakdown - I thought I'd have to take her to a hospital. She knows she can't give my sister money anymore, since it will just go to cigarettes and pot - or worse. (My boyfriend works at a gas station, in an area that sees a lot of meth-heads, and he reckons she's showing all the symptoms of meth abuse.) She's stolen from us multiple times. But, she's her daughter, so she can't let her starve. It's eating her up, and I think that's the worst of it. My sis knows that what she's doing is s$*!. She's acknowledged it - she's outright said, "If any of my friends were in this situation, I'd tell them to get out". But she won't herself, even though she did once. This has been going on for fifteen months. She moved out just after her eighteenth birthday. I've had to delete her from Facebook and block her phone number, because her boyfriend is always harassing me under her name, asking me to play messenger and then hurling abuse at me when I refuse, or don't answer immediately. I have enough issues of my own to deal with, and I simply can't handle the constant reminders that this is happening. If anyone's concerned about the aforementioned dog... we wouldn't let her take the dog back there. When we picked the poor thing up, she was skin and bone. Cocker spaniels should be plump and happy, not skin and bone, and their coats should not be full of burrs and broken glass. If we'd known this when she was still living there, we might have been able to call him up on animal abuse. But now we have her, and she's doing much better at least, so that's one small victory.
Ugh, believe me, I need to vent from time to time. I may be playing a cocky SOB who's full of self-confidence, but behind the screen, I'm just an unemployed lass with a rocky relationship, no job prospects, a worthless bachelor degree (visual arts, the hell was I thinking?), depression, anxiety, an autism spectrum disorder, and an intense fear of being alone at any point. Knowing that this tosser knows where I live and has reason to hate me is bloody terrifying. I'm so sick of trying to be strong, you guys. I'm sick of feeling this way, I'm sick of feeling like there's something wrong with me because I can only have fleeting moments of contentment here and there as opposed to actually being happy and staying happy, and I'm supposed to be GMing Risen From the Sands in two days for total strangers at my FLGS, and for some reason that's what I've chosen to fixate on in this whole mess. The smallest thing is reducing me to a blubbering heap right now, but hey, I'm not the one being kidney-punched by the man I live with; I'm not the one being dragged into gang violence because my boyfriend likes to run his mouth; I'm not the one who had to have my dog taken away because "If you leave me I'm killing the dog" was his go-to threat... so I guess that means I should be grateful, huh?
Ugh, life blows right now. Volunteering is crazy - every day, kids are coming in with bizarre issues. One boy fractured his hand on another kid's jaw; a haemophiliac boy got punched in the chest hard enough to leave a lump; a six-year-old stapled his thumb because the teacher wasn't looking... On top of that, I haven't been able to get my prescription refilled for my antidepressants, so I've been all over the place, I just found out one of the guys in my Kingmaker game is mates with the wanker who threw a rock at my car and beats his girlfriend (my nineteen year old sister), and said wanker has been spouting s&&& to turn my player against me... Basically, if Horatio seemed a bit snarky and OoC last night, it's because my head is a bleeding mess right now. I'll try to get my head back in the game and not post when I'm feeling so terrible.
"Sounds like we've got a bunch of them heading this way... Thirty to sixty feet from us," Horatio begins, only to see the others already heading off. He sighs, shakes his head and mutters, "Why do I even bother?" Relaxing his bowstring, he follows, still wondering what bloody good his presence is doing.
Yeah. I'm not a parent, but one of the guys in my group had his first daughter over Christmas, and he couldn't come to the game for a few weeks while his wife got back on her feet. I know it's busy work, and takes a lot of adjusting. I just hope he and his are all alright.
Yeah, I hope so too. =(
*picks up campaign; blows off the dust* This thing on? |