Still here and ready to go. Good to see you back, GM. =)
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I'm sorry for your loss, GM. Take care of yourself, stick by your family, and I'll be happy to resume this when you're good and ready.
"Well, that's not very sporting. Why don't you try spreading the attention around, hmm?" Horatio taunts, clutching both fiddle and bow in one hand and drawing his rapier as he moves in, stabbing out at the barghest. Unfortunately, his own swagger proves to be his undoing, as he nearly slips on the edges of his own spell.
A few bars into the piece he's playing, Horatio suddenly draws the bow along the strings at an odd angle, producing a horrific screech, not unlike fingernails on a blackboard. The 'scare chord' becomes tangible, as if a thousand tiny needles are flying from the strings.
Sorry for the holdup. Lots of things have been happening - picked up an extra day of volunteering (and more responsibilities), fell off the rails regarding my mental health as a result, and on an unrelated note, got engaged. Been a bit busy and a bit vacant.
"Oh come on, this is absurd," Horatio sighs, shaking his head and swinging his violin into position. "Here, try to keep in time."
Bump? I think it's been more than a few hours. =)
Slipping into the room behind the others, Horatio's mind races as he tries to recall anything he can about the beast, whether anything seems obvious now that it's right in front of him. The words begin slipping over his tongue almost without him thinking, drawing a thick, slippery grease up through the cracks in the stone beneath the beast.
"Alaznist was one of the Runelords," Horatio recalls, digging in his pack and producing his journal. He flips it open to the ink sketch of the stern-faced woman. "Remember that statue we found in the catacombs? Of her? Father Zantus said she was one of the Runelords - powerful users of sin magic, in ancient Thassilon; wizards of the highest order. Each one was linked to a different sin - going from what he's saying, I'd guess Alaznist's sin was wrath." He shudders, taking one more glance at the drawing before closing the book. "That seven-pointed star was the symbol of the Runelords - the Sihedron." He clutches the medallion taken from Nualia, feeling the points press against his palm. He watches as Kalig makes her way into the room, keeping a watch for any sign of trouble. His eyes drift time after time to the ghostly figure, the man from the statues - trying to determine who he is.
Having no idea who he is, he attempts to take down a sketch, hoping Father Zantus might identify him as he did Alaznist.
Horatio follows, a spell already dancing across his fingertips and tongue. If whoever was behind the door didn't seem inclined to talk, well, there was magic for that.
"Dealing with magical wards? I have little experience," Horatio admits. "Dealing with people? That I can do." He winks at Breaca. "Let's go pay him a visit."
Nah, it's cool, I understood you were going for a generic, collective we/our thing. I must have somehow missed that the scuts hadn't gone too far from us. If I'd been paying closer attention I may have picked up on it >.>
I just thought Breaca was the only one there?
"I don't think she knows much more," Horatio reasons, clutching the Sihedron medallion, studying the symbol, "but I don't approve of just killing her. I'm not much of a one for law enforcement, but in this case, I like the poetic justice of returning her to the town and seeing how they react. Not that I'm particularly in favor of a lynch mob, either..." He shrugs apologetically. "All I know is, I don't think we should kill her. "In the meantime, we should see to this barghest." He visibly shudders, apparently not looking forward to it.
Okay, my headspace was pretty bad for a while, but I think I'm on top of it. Getting real tired of the emotional roller coaster.
Playing chauffeur for a friend who was in an accident last night (she's fine, the car was written off) because she has horses that need feeding. I'll post when I get back; this is definitely a matter that Horatio will want to weigh in on.
Also, I'm in a bad headspace. Assume Horatio shares any relevant information, and if you want to move the game ahead, feel free to do so. Kalig's already pressed the biggest question.
<devil's advocate> Birch just mentioned recently in another of his threads that he's not a fan of summoners. I think he was just clarifying that here, not assuming it was what you meant. =) </devil's advocate> You've done a pretty concise job of narrowing down the gaps in the party, by the way.
Apparently refusing to show embarassment over his fleeing from the terrifying bay of the yeth hound, Horatio takes the notes from Kalig, skimming them for names and particularly relevant bits.
While his brain works, he turns to Kalig, shaking his head. "This could go deeper than we thought," he mutters. "It sounds as though that 'Runewell' was dormant for some time before activating. I don't know what caused it* but it worries me."
I'm happy to take up the skills Veryl was covering - Intimidate works well for charisma-focused characters like moi, and Knowledge skills are a very bardy thing. I might not put a lot of ranks into it, but Bardic Knowledge helps there. If we end up deciding to bring in more players, I'd only hope that nobody overlaps with me too much mechanically or conceptually. I tend to start feeling insecure and a bit useless if someone in the party fills the same niche as me. Though that's more one of my flaws as a person. Spoony here's built for skills and performance, and not a whole lot else.
To the best of my knowledge, if it's an aura effect (eg, a Dragon's frightful presence), the effect ends once you leave the aura. Of course, you need to make another save once you enter it again. And it's entirely possible we would have bumped into Shalelu again, now that you mention it. Thistletop isn't exactly huge.
Here's the plan: take car, go to Mum's, kill Phil, grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over. By which I mean, kill Nualia, clear the place out, head back to the Rusty Dragon, drink ourselves senseless, forget this whole thing ever happened, and 'correct' anyone who brings it up. Sound good? :P
*sigh* Man, fear effects suck. So much for the brave Caydenite! *facepalm* At least I think I can start running back soon. Gonna have to reread and see how many rounds I have left.
Hey all, just letting you know I won't be posting much for the next couple of days. Tomorrow I'm running back-to-back PFS slots at a local convention, and the day after is my birthday, so I'll have family stuff going on. Try not to move too far without me!
Horatio quickly takes stock of the situation. The quarry was gone, but their final target was standing right there. His breathing catches in the split second between the opening of the door and him taking action; he feels his heartbeat conversely slowing as the magic rises within him. He begins speaking in Varisian, slippery syllables slithering over his tongue in a twisting litany, and throws out one hand, palm parallel to the ground, fingers splayed, drawing the hand upward in a quick gesture. As he does so, a pool of thick grease rises from the floor beneath Nualia and her hound, as slippery as any Sczarni tongue.
Cursing the setbacks, Horatio grips his temples and sighs. "Alright. Alright, we can still do this," he mutters. "Kalig, can you see where she went? If not, we may have to pick one and hope for the best."
Horatio nods his head in Kalig's direction, glad for the half-orc's assistance. "She's right. How about you close the door beind you and we'll talk this over? If you say we need this something you have, let's negotiate." As a peace gesture, hoping he isn't being too foolish, he sheathes his rapier again - but makes no move to suggest his allies do the same. He wasn't that foolish.
Horatio holds up his free hand in a peaceful gesture, lowering the point of his rapier towards the ground. "My friend here has a point. You're as much an intruder here as we are, which at least puts us on equal footing. As you've noticed, we outnumber you - significantly, I might add, even if we count your pet on your side. So, it could well be in your best interest to co-operate with us, wizard." He spreads his hands, his rapier-tip flicking out to the side. "Talking seems like a good option, mmm?"
Weapon drawn, Horatio waits for the woman's response to the group's presence, but remains ready to strike if she appears to react less than favourably. If nothing else, the party no longer had the element of surprise.
Aww, I'm going to miss Veryl. There was a great dynamic there I was looking forward to exploring more. Kalig, I'm here, fret not. I've just been addled as all hell lately, thanks to illness, a breakdown, financial stress, study, and more issues arising around my sister and her s#%!weasel boyfriend. I'll get an in-character post up once I'm home from work tonight. Haven't seen anything from Merwyn.
Can I whistle instead? Just to be different?
Any more questions for the interrogation? I can't think of any, but I can't think of much of anything at all right now. Also, I think I'm losing the ability to English good.
"Not so fast. There's more we cold stand to know," the bard continues, trying to get Bruthazmus' attention back on himself. "Malfeshnekor. Do you know who he is?"
Whoa boy, I provide all the panache we'll ever need. *jazz hands*
"Who else can we expect to find here?" Horatio asks, keeping his eyes on the captive. "Anyone that may be guarding Nualia... and anyone who might be convinced to try to sieze command, given the right push." At this, he rubs his thumb against his fore and middle fingers, in a gesture he hopes the bugbear will understand. "Also, your numbers. How many goblins did you have command of?"
After taking a moment to wish he'd never witnessed such horrors, Horatio shudders, crouching in front of the bugbear. His knees groan in protest, but he ignores his aches and pains, instead shrugging off his cloak and tossing it over the captive's loins. There are some things I'll be happy to never see again, he thinks bitterly. "So," he begins, "it appears we interrupted you. From one ladies' man to another, I deeply apologize. Horrible timing on our part." His tone is, he hopes, disarmingly friendly and conversational as he nods to the goblin lasses. "At any rate," he continues, "we're kind of on a mission here. So - Bruthazmus, is it? - we're going to need to know what you know about this place. Of course, the chief also might have information he's not telling us. So, a proposal for the two of you - you tell us everything you even think we might find useful, and whoever tells us more gets to go free."
... did... did we seriously just interrupt a goblin orgy?
Horatio reports back to the others in a low tone. "More goblins inside. Multiple females, and at least one male. Do we go in, swords swinging, or do we want to try to grab someone more... Cooperative?"
Horatio is somewhat taken aback by Kalig's question, but he mulls it over as he swaps his boned leather vest for the chain shirt, shimmying into the latter somewhat awkwardly and tugging his shirt-collar around his neck. "It's not something I ever really thought about," he admits finally. "I suppose I just assumed - wrongly - that everybody knew what it was like, that everybody had one. A silly assumption to make, and I always knew that, but I made it nonetheless." He rolls his shoulders, trying to adjust to the feeling of the fine steel links - there was nowhere near as much give in this armour. "It's a good feeling," he continues, adjusting the lacing on his vambraces. "To know that someone's always thinking of you, that someone loved you enough - even before laying eyes on you - to do anything for you... it's comforting. It's a feeling of safety, to know that she'll be there to listen when you need to talk, to hold you when you need it, and to forgive you after every falling-out." He chews his lip, trying to find something else to distract himself with. "It's the truest and most pure form of love," he finishes, finally looking up again and meeting Kalig's eyes. "I know that sounds horribly overpoetic of me, but it's the only way I can think to describe it." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------- Veryl asking for his aid shocks the bard again. This day is just full of surprises, isn't it? he wonders, making his way to the door. Setting an ear against it, he slows his breathing, trying to listen for any useful snippets of conversation.
Horatio glances across to Kalig at the half-orc's statement about 'conquests', as if shaken from a reverie. "Well, I'm sure Ameiko would love this," he chuckles, tossing the necklace into the air once and catching it before tucking it safely in his pack. "And it does seem appropriate for the hero to bring treasure for the fair maiden - its practically tradition." His face and tone suddenly grow more serious as he continues. "But I was actually thinking of someone else... My mother. After I was born, she never had nice things, as she simply couldn't afford them. I never saw her wear any jewellery other than her wedding ring. My parents both lived simple lives so that I could be what I wanted. I guess they never thought I'd be a hero." After staring at his rapier for a moment, he finishes, "Whether she kept it or sold it, I think she'd appreciate it." Moving on, he takes one of the torches and follows the group, remembering the way the smooth jade beads felt between his fingertips.
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