With one of the monks stepping out of the smoke Iksha takes advantage of the opportunity to fire an arrow at him. "The fire leaps to try and avoid its fate, but lightning follows faster than it can flee."
Status:
Search Posts
Iksha instinctively throws her hands in front of her face but it does little to stop the flames. Her quills bristle defensively as the skin beneath them singes. Coughing, she eyes the monk feeding the fire before deciding against trying to attack him. The smoke is too thick for her to get off a good shot. Instead she runs off to one side so the elemental won't be able to cleave through all of them quite so effectively. Her voice rises over the roar of the fire. "Lightning crackled as Rhys dashed through his enemies, preparing for a vital strike!"
Status:
"I'm plenty friendly!" Iksha retorts, although given she's already aiming her bow at the monk it doesn't sound sincere. "Just not to insane cultists trying to destroy the world." She thinks for a second, calculating the angles, then looses an arrow. There's an evil fire. There's a guy on their team that does elemental damage. That's the kind of math Iksha likes. She grins, white fangs glinting in the light as she starts her tale. "Fire itself shivered as it realized who it faced: Rhys Xanthan, the Master of All Elements..."
Iksha frowns at the strange speech patterns. "Usij cultists and Sarenites, even weird Sarenites, shouldn't have anything in common. So why do they sound the same?" When Barker asks if anyone speaks insane she raises her hands defensively. "I'm not good with talking to normal chaps. Somehow I doubt I'll do any better here."
"I know any ruins from that time are old. Very old." Iksha's response is brief as she stares up at the temple. "I'm not sure what if anything it means though. Old ruins are always getting repurposed for one reason or another." With a shrug she starts climbing.
"Terrible poets and a terrible tradition." Iksha is no longer smiling after they reconvene and share the information they've gathered. "I'd heard rumors of such festivals but never thought I'd find a community actually practicing it. What kind of Sarenite harms children? No wonder the villagers all seem afraid if those are their closest neighbors." "Something's definitely wrong here. Let's go find out what."
No need to pause the game; I'm home and off the good drugs so posting regularly shouldn't be a problem from here on out. Thank you all for understanding!
"I'm Iksha." Iksha smiles cheerfully at the elder. "Apologies if we frightened you. As Barker said, we're looking for a colleague of ours, Valls the poet. We found a note suggesting he might be at Ilhiin’s temple, so we came here. Is there a temple nearby? Even if he didn't visit the town perhaps we might find clues there."
Sorry for disappearing; I ended up in the hospital unexpectedly and was in no shape to post. I'm still recovering but doing much better now. I'll catch up and get a post in shortly.
Iksha spends a few minutes coughing and gagging before calming down enough to investigate. As she does the mystery quickly distracts her from the difficult battle they just fought. "Someone left in a hurry and never came back." She shoos away a particularly determined mouse as she crouches down next to the pot. "They've been gone long enough for pests to get at the food. I wish I'd thought to ask Tahar how long it's been since he last saw Valls." At the sight of the metal cone she tilts her head to the side. "That would have fit into our mechanical head, before it was destroyed. Which lends credence to Tahar's belief that Valls was working on it. Was it originally stolen from here? If the Usij cultists caught Valls off-guard, perhaps while he was making dinner..." She trails off and shakes her head. "Let's check the other room."
Iksha chokes on sand as the wolf passes through her. She wants to throw up but there's no time. Holly is not looking good next to her. Hoping that her elixir work on plants she grabs a vial and adds a few drops of a pinkish-red liquid. She gives it a quick shake and (for lack of any better ideas since Holly doesn't have a mouth) pours it over the plant. It won't be much but maybe it'll be enough to keep her conscious.
Status:
Iksha blinks as the wolf falls apart in front of her. Turning her attention to the second wolf she moves into position to attack (although she stays close to Holly in case an emergency elixir is required later). "Together the heroes have defeated one of the wolves! Lightning courses through the body of the last survivor, forcing it to realize that it too will soon perish."
Status:
Once again the howling rips through Iksha's brain, but she's so muddled already she hardly notices. Her slowed mind finally manages to spot the flaw in her earlier calculations; while it was possible for her shortbow to overcome the wolf's resistance, a poorly-placed arrow would do no damage at all. Meanwhile a punch, (assuming it hit), would always do something. Not much, but something. She staggers towards the injured wolf, raising a gauntleted fist as she maintains her tale. "With a flash Rhys once again hurls himself through his foes, thunder roaring in his wake!"
Status:
Iksha glances between her bow and her gauntlet, calculating, before shrugging and firing another arrow. There would be little difference in the amount of damage so she might as well stay put. The mistform elixir wears off but she doesn't bother making another one. It's not like the wolves are paying any attention to her anyway. She winces as Rhys' electricity blast goes wide but doesn't stop talking. "Having stripped the wolves of their ability to resist, Rhys was now free to use the full extent of his power!"
Status:
Iksha fires again at the closest wolf, even though it's not paying any attention to her at the moment. Her voice rises as she continues her tale. "In truth, allowing himself to be grabbed was a strategy! For it allowed Rhys to position himself properly before transforming into a being of pure lightning and zapping his way across the battlefield. Emboldened, he prepares to strike again from his new, more advantageous position."
Status:
Iksha's brain feels far too mushy to try and anticipate the way the battle will go. Instead she fires near-blindly at the wolf nearest her. Will it hit? She has no idea. Will it have any effect if it does? She has no idea. There is one person she knows can hurt the wolves, and that one person is currently in their jaws. Hoping to encourage him Iksha starts spinning her tale. "The monster howls as Rhys blasts it with water, its greatest weakness. Knowing that its only hope of victory is to take down its foe it leaps forward and snaps its jaws shut around him! But the mighty Rhys is undaunted, for he has faced far stronger enemies and far worse situations than this."
Status:
Iksha's never heard anything like the sand wolf's song. It reverberates all the way through her brain. Groaning she pulls a vial out of her pocket and adds a few drops of a colorless liquid. When she downs the resulting concoction her own form becomes misty around the edges. "Sorry, I just...need a minute..."
Status:
Concealed:
Iksha mulls over the information provided as they walk. "Water Lord Almeth sent six of you to deliver a present? I guess if he thought Valls would accept his offer of a visit maybe you were meant to be escorts but six seems excessive. How far away is the Silver Frond Oasis? Are the roads between there and Valls' house usually safe? Also are there any Usij cultists among your number?" She doubts it but the question is worth asking now that she knows the bandits are also interested in Valls. When they approach the house she shrugs her shoulders when Zephrena mentions the frontal approach. "I like taking the high ground when I can but that's not likely to be possible here. Plus I don't think I'd be able to out-sneak a sand wolf. We might as well stick together." She purses her lips as she studies her gauntlet. "Besides, depending on just how resistant they are to arrows I might have to get close. Not that I'd be doing great damage punching them, but not-great damage is better than none."
Iksha watches the first bandit run away, memorizing his appearance. She considers firing another arrow at him but decides it's unnecessary. If they want to track him down they can just follow the blood trail later. Climbing down the small hill she searches for recoverable arrows while Eleanor lectures the bandit. She almost feels sorry for him. "This is why bandits shouldn't use the 'carts blocking the road' tactic. Sure it makes people stop, but it also puts them on their guard. If you hadn't blocked the road we would have kept going, none the wiser, and you could have pounced before any of us drew our weapons." Although hopefully this will be the end of his bandit career and he'll never have the chance to take that advice.
Iksha glares at the bandit who flung a rock at her, rubbing her forehead. The angle is now much better for attacking the talker, but she can get a little revenge first. As she fires twice at the two different bandits her voice rises to be heard above the wind. "With a deafening scream the Hippomane Macinella did triumph over her foe!" Which, while a good thing, does end her tale a little earlier than she had expected. She ducks back behind the rocks while she considers her options.
Status:
Iksha raises her head and peers over the rubble at the first bandit. As she prepares to strike she realizes at the last second the angle is wrong. No, she should choose a different target. The other bandit is slightly closer... The angle on this one isn't much better but now she's committed. As she gives up the advantage of cover she shouts in Shisk, "Izigelekeqe ziyafa!" Shisk:
"Bandits die!" Seeing both Holly and Eleanor with bruises she then does something she never thought she'd do. Weave a heroic tale about a plant. "The great Hippomane Macinella, strongest of her kind, thrashes her many tendrils in anger as she sees her mistress hurt. The villain who did this would pay, she thought, oh yes he would pay..."
Iksha creeps forward slowly, making sure to stay behind cover as she listens to the exchange taking place. Water Lord Almeth, huh? I wonder if he actually exists. She waits, not willing to be the one to take the first shot, and thinks through how the fight might go. The one talking is most likely the leader. If we take him out first the rest might scatter.
Iksha makes certain her bow is ready. "Broken down carts in the middle of a crossroads are almost certainly meant to be an ambush." She frowns, puzzled. "Although it's so obvious that you'd think bandits would stop using the tactic. What's the point when everyone recognizes it?" "Anyway, if you don't mind I'd like to see if I can climb up one of those hills before you start calling out. On the off chance they haven't seen us yet the high ground would be a tactical advantage."
"Oh, so you think it wasn't just a similar style, but that Valls actually wrote this particular poem? That makes sense now." Iksha jumps to her feet. "Then yes, we should hurry. Please be careful while we're gone, both of you. The cultists could always come back." She's a little surprised that Eleanor wants to go as well given her stated desire for a nap. Perhaps, much like Iksha herself, she finds it difficult to sleep when there's a mystery to solve? Regardless the wisdom of an elder is always welcome.
"You think the message was meant for Valls?" Iksha is confused by this turn of events. "Wouldn't they have sent the head to him if that were the case? Not that I have any objection to checking on him," (which is an understatement, the prospect of actually meeting such a famous poet has Iksha positively quivering in delight), "I'm just not certain I understand. Have there been other threats sent his way recently?"
Iksha bites nervously on her lower lip as Eleanor winds the key. It's impolite to argue with one's elders. Besides, if it was rigged to explode they would have found some indication of a trap. Probably. She heaves another sigh of relief when the head starts spouting poetry instead of exploding. The stuttering initially makes it hard to make out the cadence, but when she mentally replays the words they fit together. "An epic poem written in couplets; a traditionally Thuvian style of poetry. I recently read a collection of Valls' works that had a similar meter and rhyming scheme." She turns the head over one more time to study the intricate clockwork. "It's unfortunate this wasn't able to deliver the whole poem, but given how roughly it was removed from whatever body it came from I suppose we're lucky it spoke at all. Perhaps Vinn Gharban will be able to fix it and recover the rest?"
Iksha follows the group to the table, trying to process what had just happened. "Amity might not be a person. They could literally mean amity, as in a friendly relationship. Although I don't think Usij cultists have any friendly relationships. They don't even always get along with each other." She rests her chin on her hands. "Also, did it seem to anyone else like they were learning how to speak as they went? The first few things they said weren't full sentences, just jumbled collections of words. As they kept talking the sentences became clearer. Strange. Very strange." Despite saying that Amity might not be a person she'd been half-expecting a real head to be in the bag. The clockwork head is not what she expected. Relieved, she joins Rhys in closely studying it. "Either the head is the message or the head is going to deliver the message when wound. Presumably the latter. Of course an explosion could be considered a message..." She eyes the head suspiciously. "That we're not seeing any traps doesn't mean there aren't any. I'd recommend not winding it here. Too crowded. Does anyone know Mage Hand or another way that we could wind it from a safe distance?" Iksha would like to Pursue a Lead!:
Iksha's head swivels between the new arrivals and the stage. In a low whisper she asks, "Is this all part of the performance?" Previous poetry readings haven't been anything like this, but some of the plays she's attended have involved "audience interaction." When a sharp-looking scimitar gets pointed at Barker though that idea vanishes. Her quills bristle instinctively. "Usij cultists I presume? You have the look. Whatever destruction you seek you will not find it here, unless it be your own. I suggest you leave. Now."
Iksha looks around nervously when Barker starts singing. Is this one of the events where you get thrown out for performing unexpectedly? Fortunately no one seems to mind so she can relax and enjoy the song. She is a little confused by the choice of theme though. Was the Billy O'Tea the pirate ship Barker was on? Her nervousness and confusion are forgotten when the speaker comes to the stage. "Oh, it's about to start! You're just in time." She smiles at the half-orc. "Please have a seat."
"Nice to meet you Barker, Eleanor." Iksha turns her head towards the stage to make certain the main performer wasn't arriving before continuing the conversation. (Talking during a performance was rude. This was one of the few things Shisk and outsider culture had in common). "I too would be very interested in hearing about this pirate fiasco. I currently know almost nothing about pirates." She considers which of her own stories might make a fair exchange. "I could tell you about the disaster that was my first time attempting to create an alchemical elixer in return, if that's something that would interest you." She leans back and eyes the vine. "Eleanor, I'm also curious about how quickly your plant has wrapped herself around your chair. Does she always grow that quickly?"
"Thanks for telling me. The first time I attended a similar event I assumed I would need to provide something in exchange. There was a lull in the performance and no one was on stage so I went up. I was told it was an 'intermission' and thrown out of the venue for being disruptive." Iksha frowns. "But other events I've attended have encouraged everyone to share information. It's difficult for me to determine which is which so now I just ask beforehand." She doesn't object as Zephrena studies her quills. In fact she turns her arm so the gnome can get a better look. "Well met Zephrena. I'm Iksha, a Shisk formerly of the Makan tribe. My people don't travel much and I've noticed very few outsiders have quills. Which is probably for the best. You like far too many different styles of clothing to be able to work around them." Iksha's own clothing, a backless sleeveless dress, has obviously been chosen to avoid cloth pressing against the quills. "As a follower of Shelyn, is there a particular type of art you favor?" Her head swivels as the gnoll approaches and begins talking with Eleanor. "I enjoy performing; I just don't want to give offense by doing so when it's not allowed." Her smile drops for the first time as Eleanor says she'll be taking a nap. "Napping? While someone's freely performing for you?" Her tone is equal parts astonished and horrified. "I rarely understand outsider poetry either, Shisk poetry tends to be far more practical and meant to aid in the memorization of information, but that's all the more reason to pay attention!"
Iksha's quills nearly quiver in excitement as she takes her seat. She couldn't believe her luck. Not only were there still seats available, but they were close enough to the stage to ensure not a single precious word would be missed! Perhaps it was the midnight hour? Iksha had noticed that most outsiders preferred to do business when the sun was high. Their loss, her gain. Grinning widely, (and showing off tiny white fangs in the process), Iksha peruses the menu while she waits for the performance to start. "I'll take a glass of jallab, please." The sweet refreshing drink would be perfect for a warm evening. Sipping on her drink she eyes the other people at her table. There was only one thing bothering her; a question of etiquette that she had gotten wrong before. "Excuse me. Do you know if we are all expected to perform at some point in the evening? Or are we allowed to listen without providing anything in exchange?" |