Isabel Rhelian's page

Will: 1d20 + 10 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 10 + 1 = 29 Don't suppose I can parlay the fear abaying effects of my regalia to make that a crit success? ;)

Not entirely sure what the sinspawn did, but certain it won't be good, Isabel sidesteps to flank the creature with Fall and then sets to work on the stabbing.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 211d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 132d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 132d6 + 5 ⇒ (3, 2) + 5 = 10

There's no need for quips at this point. Isabel merely examines the sinspawn for a moment and then moves deliberately forward to kill it.

Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32
Stab!: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 242d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 4) + 6 = 12

"I'll try to remember that." Isabel replies, clearly sarcastic but with no real bite in her tone as Elara plies needle and thread. "Thank you."

She glances over to check that Lottie is ok and not in need of a reassuring hug before setting to work with Fall to examine the rest of the room.

Will DC20: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

"Gaah!" Isabel comments, as being bitten imparts some images she did not expect. With a target in front of her she attempts to exploit its weaknesses once more and then strikes twice. Lottie will have her back.

Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 25
Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (11) + 15 = 261d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 6) + 6 = 162d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 = 13

Isabel is too busy being hit by blades to join in the conversation but she spares a brief moment for a sigh, before ducking under the blades and closing the gap.

Stride, Exploit, Strike.
Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 18
Strike: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (16) + 15 = 312d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 5) + 6 = 16

"Honestly, she would." Isabel replies, her voice losing its teasing note for something gentler. "Do you remember what she said about her sisters? I think Fall has had a lot of people look down on her and her choices. You saying that you choose her, showing everyone that you choose her. I think that would mean a lot to her. And I'll get you that collar as a wedding gift." The smirk is back full force by the end as she squeezes Charlotte's hand.

"Proud of you Lottie. You deserve this."

More so than anyone else Bel knows, her best friend deserves happiness and Isabel determinedly ignores the small niggle of sadness deep inside her. It's not worthy of her or fair on Lottie.

Isabel notices Fall's ears twitching and the subtle tilt of her head which just so happens to give bring her ears towards their conversation. "No, I'm sure she doesn't." She replies, "If I was the suspicious type I'd say she was claiming you. Maybe you should claim her too. Get her a collar perhaps?"

She's definitely teasing, but who exactly? Her friend? Or the eavesdroppper?

"You have to take the statue's hands." Isabel says, absently answering the question as she avoids looking at Fall and her molesting Lottie's lips. "I'm not sure what the gold plates are about though. Sorshen seems to have been very literal."

"Having fun?" She asks the Doctor on her rounds, smirking as she speaks.

Isabel also strikes for one of the guards who is more distracted.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 211d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

She does a horrible job.

Bel catches the glance and she, being a woman of poise and maturity, sticks her tongue out at the elf.

One day... one day... She promises herself, determined to see the haughty elf less haughty. Just once.

"You don't have to do exactly what she says." She speaks up, focusing on Elara. "Do it if you agree, not because she says so."

Isabel stays back and out of the way. She does raise an eyebrow at how meekly the niece of Sheila Heidmarch acquiesces to Fall's demand.

"She in going to be unlivable if this keeps up..."

Isabel listens closely, but she notices Charlotte edging away again and steps over to grab her friend's hand, regardless of the instinctive flinch that such an action always provokes. It's not as though the heat hurts and she tugs Lottie back into the group and the conversation as Elara finishes.

"They took your gear?" She asks, planning ahead. "Did you see where they put it? As she said we'd like to have you with us, we have the same goals - but if you want to leave I understand."

She gives Lottie's hand a squeeze, knowing that not everyone can be as brave as her best friend.

"We will." Bel says, all soft reassurance as her eyes rake over the woman's scars. "You came here with the other Grey Maidens didn't you? What happened to you? Did they leave you behind?"

"Let me help." Bel says, stepping in. She takes the woman's hand in her own and closes her eyes for a moment. "Sarenrae, Shelyn, Ladies of Love, do not let this woman pass beyond this world. Desna, Dreamer, help this sleeper wake."

Lay on Hands gives her 18HP and +2 AC for a round. (Hopefully the last bit won't matter!)

Isabel steps to the side, she and Fall are getting quite good at this whole flanking business, and continues stabbing.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 191d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 4) + 6 = 122d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 4) + 6 = 12

Wildly and utterly without accuracy!

Ref DC17: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19

Isabel jerks out of the strange film of water and closes in on the hag, her rapier gleaming threateningly.

Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (1) + 14 = 15
Strike: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (13) + 15 = 282d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 3) + 6 = 14

Exploit, move, strike. Will use Glimpse of Redemption the first time an ally takes damage in combat.

Isabel doesn't halt her pace at all, as she vaguely makes out Fall shouting behind her. There's no need to worry - she has complete faith in Lottie to keep her alive, but right now she has to save the woman tied to the stake.

Recall Know with Eso Lore: 1d20 + 14 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 14 - 2 = 21

Isabel is clearly of Fallende's mind and is already halfway towards the tunnel. She never used to be this impetuous but with a strong feeling of right on her side the true course of action is clear.

(The fact that she completely missed any trace of footprints what-so-ever has nothing to do with it!)

Full speed towards the screams! I can set off traps too!

Will: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Isabel reels from the sheer noise and crouches in the bottom of the boat, trying desperately to block the sound out. Her small crossbow hangs forgotten on her belt.

Bel settles into her accustomed role as patient, not accessing the magic that hovers just below her skin, ready to seal her wounds at a moments notice. This is for Lottie and besides it seems like it might be a bonding experience with the new girl.

"Where after this?" She asks. "Back in the boats?"

"And what did you think of Egorian?" Bel asks. The question seems innocent enough but there's a slight shift in the air as she asks.

"Terribly clumsy of me." Isabel replies, giving Fall a rather sarcastic look.

When the new woman appears she closes in behind Lottie, not overly aggressive, but ready to protect her friend if things go wrong. Thankfully they don't - in fact things go pretty well. The new woman has all the right answers and while that might be a tad suspicious, there's no way that Sheila Heidmarch would be fooled, so it seems above board.

"So what skills are you offering then?" She asks, snagging one of Lottie's hands and squeezing gently. "We have magic, and we have knowledge of Thassilon. What more can you add?"

"That hurt!" Isabel says, sounding thoroughly aggrieved. This time she aims higher and pierces one of the huge arteries in the giant's thigh.

Stabbing: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 351d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 5) + 6 = 152d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 = 11
Deadly: 1d8 ⇒ 6

Bel, who is working hard to keep her cool, circles around the giant and then stabs at the back of her knees.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 351d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 = 112d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 3) + 6 = 14
Deadly: 1d8 ⇒ 51d8 ⇒ 4

"Lottie, stay back. We need you to keep Fall standing." Bel says calmly. She's reassuring the elf more than her best friend, but hopefully it will work either way. For now the lizard has to go.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 331d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 = 82d6 + 6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 6 = 9

Move to flank, then strike.

Will: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
Hero Point: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

It takes Isabel a considerable effort to not flinch from the lizard - either the biting or the horrible colours. She stabs it in the face in her blade and tries to remember what she can about 'Sorshen'.

Attacks: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 191d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25
Damage: 2d6 + 4 ⇒ (4, 2) + 4 = 102d6 + 4 ⇒ (2, 1) + 4 = 7

Exploit vs Sorshen: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 30

"My goodness Sorshen, how big you are!" Isabel adds. This is going to devolve into combat any second so there's not much point in diplomacy. Unfortunately the teachings of her goddesses demand that she at least try.

"There will be no eating anyone, or hand carving." She demands. "We can talk this out as civilised beings, Runelord to mortals."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20

"Guess we'd better go then." Isabel says. "Let's look at the door first. Everyone in one boat this time, just in case?"

She lets Fall row, preferring to steer with Wes's help to find the door made of skymetal.

"Then we will wait for Lady Plumth and Mister Vancaskerkin," Fallende replies to Isabel, crossing her arms. "I'm sure they will follow along soon." She shrugs. "I am surprised that you lowered yourself to such an act."

"Well I'm not as tall as you." Isabel quips, before taking the question more seriously. "Why wouldn't I? Exploring this place is more important than pride and if mine was so shallow that I couldn't touch a statue then I have bigger problems."

Lottie appears behind them and Bel cuts off that particular conversation.

"So we need to take a boat." She says, staring out across the water. "I wish we had any idea what's coming though. Can anyone swim? I never learned."

Isabel sees Fallende not turned into a smear on the pavement and glances at Lottie.

"Ask her to do it for you sometime. I dare you."

With a smirk she squats down and kisses Sorshen's worn feet.

------------------------------

Isabel throws a glance over to check if the other two are decent and gets an eyeful of Fall as she saunters away.

"Tease." The golden-haired woman murmurs, as her lips curve into a smile.

As Isabel stands to stack the final plates she catches a familiar sight. Two women sharing one small house together inevitably end up seeing a fair bit of each other, although there's usually a towel involved somewhere. In the second or so it takes Bel's brain to register what she's seeing a number of thoughts flash through her mind before she turns back round and sits down next to Wesley.

"So, how are you finding this adventure?" She asks, casting about for a topic of conversation that will distract from the faint splashing sound she can hear. "I can't decide if this is exactly what I'd expect from the Runelord of Lust or whether I'm disappointed by the lack of succubi." She gives him a gentle nudge in the side. "You're probably more disappointed than I am, right?"

The Night before

Bel finishes off dinner and then slowly gets up with a groan. "That food is terrible..." She says. "But by the Gods I needed it! Come on Wes, we need to backtrack back to that lake and wash these pots up."

As she leaves the lovely blonde shoots Fallende a pointed glance...

--------------------------------
Now

Bel seems remarkably unruffled by the heat and looks around the room cautiously. "So there's some sort of other exit over there..." She says, her voice rising into a question. "Maybe the fire has something to do with it?"

But before doing anything rash she defers to the spellcasters - who might see things she can't.

"Well fought." Bel says, panting. Then she reaches out and claps a hand on Fallende's shoulder. Her grasp is warm and undoes some of the damage the demon did. It's a peace offering of sorts. LoH for 36 healing.

"How are you doing Lottie?" She asks. "Do you need to rest? How about you Wes? We've been pushing on a long time. Do we need to find a place to stop for a while?"

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 221d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 291d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
Damage, Good: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 = 132d6 + 6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 = 13

Isabel takes advantage of the monster turning on Fall and stabs it repeatedly, aiming for the huge oozing gashes the elf left behind.

Strikes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 211d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 141d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Damage: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 = 132d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 5) + 6 = 172d6 + 6 ⇒ (5, 2) + 6 = 13 I'll make my attacks good-aligned, for all the benefit it will have with those attack rolls!

Isabel focuses mainly on the defensive as she sees Fall deliver a mighty strike to the babau's back - no doubt it will be her turn momentarily.

"Good or cold iron if you can!" She calls back to the casters. "No acid!"

"Mon accent est parfait, merci." Isabel replies, her tone perfectly crisp and her accent rather good for a non-elf. "As for your derriere... il est parfaitement ferme et très agréable à regarder. Presque aussi beau que le mien."

With that Bel spins on her heel and walks back to Wes and Lottie, a touch of extra swagger in her step as her halo materialises above her head.

"Then maybe you have to give that up." Isabel replies, letting her grip soften. Not in response to the elf's words, but the emotions she saw, fleetingly, on the fine-boned face. "For something better. For someone better. You aren't competing with your sisters Fall, you aren't competing with anyone - except yourself. Be who you are, but don't you dare take away who Lottie is. It's your job to protect her - fine. But it's her job to keep you alive too!"

Bel is doing an excellent job of not shouting but her whispers are so vehement that they have an almost physical presence as she hurls them at Fallende. "So get that into your damn head and let her protect you too! Getting hurt more isn't brave, it's just stupid. And if for some idiotic reason you can't trust her then trust me! I won't let her die - not for anything. And certainly not your stupid pride!"

She takes a deep breath and the faint wind that has been whipping her hair into a golden curtain falls as she breathes out.

"I'm trying to help Fall. So, again. Est-ce que tu comprends?"

Isabel conducts her ineffective search and keeps glancing back at Lottie and Fall as they conduct themselves in icy silence.

By the time they leave the room and head down the corridor Bel has had enough. She grabs Falls arm, drags her forwards and shoots Wesley a glare that says 'Keep her. RIGHT. THERE.'

"I've been a b@+@#." She says simply. "And I'm not really sorry for that. What I am sorry for is blurting that out. I did it because I was angry. I'm angry with you, Fall. Because you keep treating Lottie like she's made of gods-damn glass. She is brilliant, she is capable and has a sense of right and wrong like you wouldn't believe. So shut up. Stop trying to take the weight of the world on your shoulders and accept that she has every right to do everything she can to help you! You have the big fancy sword and the skill to use it. She has her magic and she uses it to help you! You didn't fail her, she doesn't believe you failed her. So take your forking pride, stick it back up that oh-so-fine elven derriere and apologise. If you like her, if you care for her, then treat her as a real person. You do that and I'll get out of your way. Because if you can do that then you might actually deserve her. Est-ce que tu comprends?"

She stops, with one hand on Fall's shoulder and stares - hard.

------------------------------------
Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 30

Isabel circles the creature with her new blade and tries to attack from opposite Fall. They have to work together when it comes to battle.

Strike: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 342d6 + 6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 = 10

"You do realise that she's taking your wounds for you right?" Isabel asks sharply as she steps in to grasp Lottie's hand. There's a glow as Charlotte's wounds close and then Isabel steps away.

"Thank you for the blade." She says over her shoulder. "It'd be good for sewing you know."

36 healing from LoH.

With the dhampir dead she takes some time to actually examine the room that they're in.

Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (14) + 12 = 26

The fog is becoming a real problem but Isabel does her best - there's not much else she can do afterall.

Exploit: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
Miss Chance: 2d20 ⇒ (12, 1) = 13
Strikes: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (16) + 14 = 301d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 121d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Isabel continues to ignore the mist and keeps striking as best she can in the mist.

Strikes: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 161d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 111d6 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
Flat checks: 2d20 ⇒ (1, 7) = 8

Which isn't very well.

Fort: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25

Isabel pushes through the cloud and circles behind the man before striking.

Strikes, Flanking: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 231d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 81d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Checks: 2d20 ⇒ (12, 14) = 26

Bel steps aside, allowing Wes the time and space to do his work as she examines the murals. The name, Amivadeus Yasrin, is scribbled into one of her many note-books, according to a system that only Bel herself knows. She suspects it will be a name worth knowing one day.

She pointedly doesn't look at Fall. Lottie can take care of herself, and has.

Bel is not especially clever, but she's done a lot of reading about how to do a good excavation and she can keep her feelings away - for a while at least.

"Right, then we steer clear of the barrows. We aren't grave robbers and we don't want to disturb anything else Sorshen might have hidden around here. We don't need to exhaust Lottie any more. Lets head for the door."

"Don't touch that." Isabel says coolly to Fallende. "We don't need you getting any worse. Lottie, Wes, can you see any magic around there? On or under the mounds that is."

She waits for the spellcasters report before speculating any further.

"Right." Isabel says. "We don't need the one in her chest after all."

The rest she ignores. If the elf is that delusional then there's nothing that will make her see.

"If a man does that it's sexual assault." Isabel says, apparently to Wesley. "Claiming women as a prize, forcing themselves on them. Guess waving a big sword around really does stop people using their brains."

Isabel drops her weapons and wraps Lottie in a hug, squeezing tightly for a few moments before letting the shorter woman put her feet back on the floor. "Thanks Lottie." She says softly, before turning back to Fallende and the destruction that has been done.

"Shame, that was a gorgeous statue." She says, shifting some of the glass with the toe of her boot. "Right, now what was it protecting?"

She begins searching the island for... whatever it is that's been guarded here.

Isabel survives thanks to sheer determination - but she won't be able to take another round of hits like that. So she strikes twice and then retreats as far as she possibly can. It isn't brave, but it's smart.

Strikes: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 241d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 81d6 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9