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Irra winces at Arlena's speech. In this wasteland, either she'll die or we'll all die. No happy stories... She moves through the army, slapping backs and shaking hands and working to keep morale up. It's far too easy for a demon army to shatter an army's spirits.
Irra continues her rhythm.
A bard's talents are best suited to the silence of a respectful audience. A scrabbling brawl, they can overpower with their songs, twangs and drums. An entire army, let alone two, let alone the two fighting each other, is another matter altogether. Beyond the capabilities of most. Taking in an immense breath, Irra shatters the air with a harsh yet taut and warbling beat. "ORRRIGHT YOU MISERABLE BASTARDS! ONE, TWO, THREE FOUR, ONE TWO THREE FOUR, MMMmmmMMMmmmMMMmmmMMMmmm!" Almost instinctively the army's feet begin to stamp in unison, a pounding supporting chorus where to any other singer they would be the chaotic noise drowning them out. In unison, they feel new discipline in their thrusts and courage.
Irra keeps herself busy with camp tasks while she waits for orders; drilling newer recruits, inventorying weapons, queuing for chow.
Hah; poor timing. Just assume I use my spell to back yours up.
Irra grumbles. "Deciding morals, redemption and execution... it's the higher-ups who should be deciding this, for the good of the unit..." Grabbing shackles from a nearby guard, she binds Nurah's hands and legs, then pokes her roughly with a wand to heal her to consciousness. She snaps her fingers for attention, summoning a burst of magic. "Soldier Nurah, your life is in our hands. Answer our questions truthfully, a lie has no chance of escaping detection at this distance with this number of watchers, and you may yet see your homeland again."
"Shadowblood." Under her breath, Irra mutters a dramatic chord. "Time to hand this off to the bosses?"
If things have calmed down enough that no one is about to be court-martialled or attacked, Irra bends over and quickly rifles through everything she carries.
Irra salutes. "Ma'am, I volunteer for the role as Queen's advisor- this one is either unable to maintain proper documentation, or is incompetant at discreetly leaving camp."
Irra looks up. "We've a halfling spy down and captured. Hopefully the horses should get calmed down in as econd."
Irra pulls out a wand and hurries over to Nurah. She taps her with it.
She inspects her prisoner, and the charging horses. "On the whole, a worthwhile capture."
"Where is she?" Following Kazul's pointing finger, Irra summons light-specked grease to entrap the runaway.
Standing outside the herd watching the perceptive fellows work, Irra waits for a signal/instructions.
Awake in an instant, Irra hesitates then briskly says "Keep it to ourselves for now, the smaller the number the more silent we can be." She moves with the duo. "I've some glitterdust to catch her, but that's too sudden... this should help." She mutters an arcane phrase and presses a hand against Kazul's forehead, causing his eyes to momentarily grow gold and keen, like an eagle's. "Good hunting."
Having entered the Worldwound, Irra concentrates in an old and familiar patterns, and attempts to work out what she should be prepared for.
Having boosted the troops' spirits, Irra tries to gather some information from them, finding out if anyone has seen odd behavior that might indicate an informant. She appeals to their sense of camaraderie, claiming to be one of the rank-and-file rather than an officer.
It's a big force, and it seems like there's enough good people dealing with it; time to take care of the rank-and-file.
The mood and the landscape has never been darker or more terrifying, but conversely Irra has never been cheerier. "On the march with a good army of good people for a good cause? How could I complain?" she remarks to anyone who asks her. She moves through the ranks calling out Andoran marching songs, keeping the soldiers' spirits up. "Got a letter in the mail,
Irra doesn't look too concerned and goes looking for a drink, leaving this drama to sort itself out.
I read a good Paizo novel set in the Worldwound, so my guess is going to be demon blood.
Irra watches on, making certain that the bags are opened in the soldiers' presence. She makes no comment at the discovery.
GM, 'brimorak' isn't ringing any bells with me, was there anything I shiould've been told about being captured? Anything I'm supposed to bring to the plot to help out?
Irra blinks, pondering, then nods. "...payback works. It's been awhile since I've had a unit, could be nice to be part of again, even if I won't be leading it. I'm in."
Irra comes to attention. "Can't report more than Arlena. Attacked, caught, escaped; grateful, now."
With an exclamation of relief, Irra finds her gear and dons her Andoran uniform. "Good to be back in my kit" she says, also pulling on an ornamental belt and headband. After the fuss is over, she makes her way towards Arlena, clasping her shoulder. "Seems we keep our heads for another day, eh? How'dya want to celebrate, get a drink or a new mission?"
"Need my kit to do anything, no idea where it is. I'll keep myself with ya, let out a few blasts when I need to." Spotting a few cultists, Irra takes a breath then lets out a low-pitched scream. IIIIII
Irra blinks and hesitantly comes to rest. She looks enquiringly at Farasha. "...he always like that? Meant more that Arlena here's a tiefling in the middle of a bunch of tiefling cultusts under bloody attack..." She shrugs and finally lets herself breath normally.
The gnome keeps herself at attention and salute, her voice booming out to the charging crusaders. "Ma'am, this is Arlena Fashaen, comrade. We were both recently captured then chose the worst godsdamn time to escape our bonds, ma'am!" She waves her free hand the desparate Arlena, holding her ground against the tiefling's pushes. "Not all tieflings are enemies, etcetera etcetera, ma'am!" She nods at Bollwerk, "Begging your pardon sir but I will order about anyone I please when trying to avoid becoming blood on hooves, sir!"
The ginger-haired gnome turns to face the charge. She comes to immaculate attention, feet stamping into the ground, and raises her hand in a perfect salute. "CRUSADERS- SERGEANT IRRA SARUSEK, ANDORAN MILITARY ON SECONDMENT, ORDERS YOU TO HALT! FRIENDLIES!"
Irra and Arlena: "A good soldier never leaves a man behind!" Then she looks around, and hesitates. "...but you're right, you need to hide." She gestures. "Get back in the room; leave the door open so everyone can see in, and hide behind the door. Hopefully no one will come in till the fight's over and cooler heads prevail. I'll go find my gear, my component pouch; with that, I can get us both out of here. I'll be back, understood?" She waits for an eye-to-eye gaze from Arlena before heading out, searching for likely places where her gear could be.
In between looking, if she spies a lone cultist or a small group fighting with a group of crusaders, she joins the fray with a sonic blast. IIII
Any chance of a map/description of visible places we might want to check out?
GM and Arlena: Irra shatters the lock with her voice.
GM and Arlena: "Go time." Raising up her chains, Irra shatters them IIIIII then does the same to Arlena's. She tests to see if the door's unlocked, then listens for a quiet moment and moves through.
Irra and Arlena: Irra sighs and settles back against the wall. "...well. I've one more trick, should we manage to get a single cultist in here. For the moment though."
"This won't be where my story ends, though. I've lost good men in the name of staying here, protecting here. I'm not giving up on them this easily."
GM and Irra: She sinks to the floor in irritation. "Too busy. Damnation. Have you got anything?"
GM and Irra: Irra glared at Umestil. "Irra Sarusek, Sergeant Major, one-four-nine-eight-seven-dash-five, you bastard." She tried to spit on him, but dehydration and starvation prevented her.
Irra rouses herself and looks around. "Fashaen? I am." She looks around and nods grimly. "I reckon it's time to get out of here. I was saving this for when there were no bloody cultists around. Better make sure though..." She cocks her head to the side and listens hard for movement or voices.
Irra nods with satisfaction. "Right. Escape time." Raising her manacles before he eyes, she tenses her vocal cords and contorts her throat into just the right formation for- THIIIII -a burst of hard noise impacts the chains, shattering them partially; she continues until they are completely broken, then works on Arlena's chains.
'dem sounds like fancy words for not gettin' pissed at the pub! GM, how's this for a sheet?
G'day, folks.
Name: Sergeant-Major Irra 'Captongue' Sarusek
Do you want a full sheet before acceptance?
In agreement with Rogard, I'm off. Best of luck to the rest of the players in this game.
Well, he's not literally an octopus; he's using Beast Shape, which grants him many aspects of that creature. If you'd like to say that for free he gets the ability to (only) breathe underwater or any other abilities not mentioned on beast shape, well...?
Irra moves up, takes a breath and starts up her deep-throated march chant, bolstering courage and strength. With her right hand, she summons a tiny band of stars, then flings it at the devourer.
Irra calls out what she remembers about each creature.
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