Female Half-elf Vigilante 2 | HP 13 | AC 18 Touch 14 FF 13 | Fort +1 Ref +7 Will +5 | Init +3 | Perc +8 - Low-light vision | Speed 30'
Ginetta's readied attack is melee. For future reference, I'll always label attacks as thrown if intended.
Ginetta's eyes sweep the area looking for any tell-tale signs of the intruder. She considers Laria's words and comes to a conclusion.
"If you were looking to turn us in, you would have already fled and done that," she calls out into the empty air. "That tells me that you're either simply a malicious idiot, or you have other goals. Why don't we talk about what those goals might be? Do we have something you want? Or is there something you want us to do? This doesn't have to end with more bloodshed."
Female Human Duskwalker Bone Oracle 1 | HP 17 | AC 15 | Fort +4 Ref +4 Will +6 | Perc +4 | Spell DC 17
Nature vs DC 15:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11 Medicine vs DC 13:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Kiko nods in agreement with Usagi's assessment of the bites. She's just about to begin a search for the threatening snakes when they're challenged from the tower.
"Uh ... Do not call a ghost a ghost," she begins shakily. Elizeth had drilled into her the practices early on to help her fit in to the village. She'd memorized them and put them into practice, but no one besides the priestess had ever asked her to recite them.
"Don't pat people on the head or shoulders," she continues. "Which shouldn't need to be said. That's like telling people not to pee in the well - it's stupid and self-evident. Stay out of the water when ghosts are around. Don't eat food with two sticks in it. Make sure the laundry is inside before nightfall." She ponders and then counts on her fingers. "Oh, and don't turn around if someone calls out your name at night."
While the beds in the Golden Hall are quite fluffy, Cailyn is disappointed in the quantity of pillows provided.
Asking around regarding the armband, the occultist is rewarded with numerous raised eyebrows and suspicious glances. She's also rewarded with the fact that the lion's head armbands are the rune-sign of Asvig Longthews.
Further inquiries reveal the location of Longthews's farm and longhouse outside of the city.
GM Screen:
1d20 + 13 ⇒ (12) + 13 = 25
Potential Elements of Investigation: * Locate and recover the heirloom sword, Suishen. * Locate a guide to lead you over the Crown of the World. * Pay a visit to Longthew's longhouse.
"Well ... good. Keep being unpredictable," Spivey replies. "Too many people think they're smarter than death."
~~~~
Vigny with Tazio:
Tazio turns away and lifts his hood to hide his face.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says. "I just want to do what Sandru asks me to do. He's ... he's in charge. He's my boss. He's ... "
The man's shoulder's slump.
"He's everything I want. I want to be everything he needs."
~~~~
Orchid with Sandru:
Sandru sighs.
"O, Ameiko. De ce îmi faci viața așa grea?" he mutters under his breath. "Look, Kid," he says to Orchid. "I can tell you that in spite of being able to tell a riveting story and quite capable of keeping her audience enthralled with her music, Ameiko sometimes plays a little rough with words." He puts his hand on the girl's shoulder. "If she called you a brute, then she did so with affection. I can't tell you how many times she's called me a bastard in colorful ways. She's not criticizing you. It's just playful banter and sometimes she goes too far. Talk to her. Tell her that you don't like that word and I promise she will never use it regarding you ever again."
~~~~
Monday, 20th of Sarenith, 4711 AR (day 35)
The trading city of Kalsgard.
Upon arriving in the city, Sandru immediately moves the caravan into the city's Bone Quarters to camp among the others of its kind in order to avoid further attention. He suggests that the four of you to arrange your own quarters within the hustle and bustle of the city to throw off any suspicion. Ameiko agrees, suggesting that the caravan surreptitiously make preparations for the journey over the Crown of the World.
Potential Elements of Investigation: * Locate and recover the heirloom sword, Suishen. * Locate a guide to lead you over the Crown of the World. * Investigate the Ulfen attackers. Perhaps the source of the gold armband with the stylized lion on it can be discovered.
Female Half-elf Vigilante 2 | HP 13 | AC 18 Touch 14 FF 13 | Fort +1 Ref +7 Will +5 | Init +3 | Perc +8 - Low-light vision | Speed 30'
Adolina d'Jhaltera wrote:
I propose we have the Fushi sisters gather info - hopefully about the Salt Works so we can plan our 'raid' and if we can do a second action - recruit supporters.
Then after turn 1 we can time back in and do the salt works.
Ameiko tries but fails to contain her mirth, doubling over on her horse and shaking with restrained laughter.
"I s-s-swear to all that's ... to all that's holy ... I ... I didn't plan it," she manages between guffaws. "Shalelu ... she gets up from her table ... from her table and ... and walks over to set her bowl ... bowl down on C-Cailyn's table in front of her. Her bowl with the evening's special ... s-s-split pea soup! ... And says ... says ..." She wipes her eyes and looks up, her face rigid with restraint as she attempts to mimick the elf's stoic nature. "'There has been too much conflict between the classes. You should give peas a chance'" She busts out in laughter again. "She ... she then walks out like it was nothing."
The celestial looks between Ameiko's now unrestrained laughter and Cailyn's red face with confusion.
"Spivey doesn't understand," she offers which seems to cause Ameiko's laughter to increase in volume. "Why are peas funny?"
"Exactly!" Ameiko replies. "Ignoring it only leads to destiny sneaking up behind you and bashing you over the head with a three-day-old loaf of rye bread."
"That is a very strange example," a tiny voice pipes up from behind Cailyn as Spivey flutters up from her nest of mashed blankets in the back of the wagon. "And another reason why I think big folk are the gods' joke on the rest of us."
"Oh, I haven't even begun to touch 'strange'," Ameiko replies with smirk. "One of these times I'll have to tell you about the time Cailyn spent an hour arguing the moral dilemma of marinated cabbage vs sweetened peas."
The celestial's eyes widen and she turns to look at the occultist with curiosity. "Oh, this is a story that Spivey must be privy to."
~~~~
Flori:
Florenia looks up in surprise as Flori verbally ambushes her. As she opens her mouth to reply, Flori hears a voice behind her (if right near her ear would be considered behind her).
"And pray tell what are you doing now to create such a fracas this early in the morning, Sister Dear?" Turning, Flori finds herself face to face with Florenia's sister, Miseldana.
"Bite my ass, Midi," Florenia snaps back. "Sandru wanted Koya's wagon at the rear because of those bears that Shalelu spotted. He wants Wilda's wagon with all the food moved up into the middle and that leaves Koya's wagon in the rear. If you ..." Her eyes shift to Flori's. "Or you have a problem with it then take it up with him - I'm just the messenger. It's too early in the f%%~ing morning for this." She turns back to the bag she was rearranging.
Miseldana looks back at Flori. Leaning in even closer, she stage whispers, "Probably best not to trifle with Fidi this early in the morning. Particularly when she's fighting with the moon."
"Not something that needs to be shared, Sister Dear," Florenia barks over her shoulder. Miseldana shrugs, but doesn't move away.
Book 2 - Night of Frozen Shadows Part One: Into the North
Much discussion is made of what to do now.
Well, to be fair, there wasn't much choice of what to do at this point. The caravan was going to make its way to Kalsgard. Where it would go from there was a matter of debate. Sandru's argument was that once the sword that was revealed in Ameiko's (and your group's) vision was found, the caravan should return to Sandpoint. Ameiko, on the other hand, was of the mind that destiny lay in a path over the Crown of the World and on to Minkai. Sandru was clearly skeptical of this idea, but was a smart enough man to not directly contradict the willful bard.
But in either case, Kalsgard was the next point of travel. A path, by the caravan leader's experienced mind was a trip of some four hundred and fifty miles. In his estimation, it would take about two weeks. By suplimenting the caravan's supplies with freshly caught game, it shouldn't be a hardship.
The debate regarding what would happen once they reached the northern city having reached an impasse, the next step at least was clear: Kalsgard.
---
The route the caravan takes from Brinewall to Kalsgard passes through the Nolands and enters the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, where it joins an existing trade route between the dwaven mine at Kopparberget and the city of Jol before continuing north into the Grungir Forest The caravan road crosses the eastern neck of the Grungir until it reaches the bridge at Losthome, at which point the route follows the western back of the Thundering River as it meanders north, connecting the many small settlements and steadings that stand upon the river's banks. At the confluence of the Thundering and Rimeflow rivers, the trade route brances again, with one trail crossing the Skalsbridge and heading northeast toward Trollheim while the other continues along the Rimeflow to Kalsgard.
The trip is largely uneventful save for the occasional glimpse of some of the larger predators of the region, such as bears and mountain lions shadowing the caravan for a mile or so before losing interest and searching elsewhere for easier prey. The ravens and seabirds are plentiful overhead.
During the journey ...
Cailyn:
As the journey progresses, Cailyn notices that one of the ubiquitous ravens shadowing the caravan in the hope of finding scraps to eat is a much larger specimen than normal, perhaps the size of a small dog. She sees this raven multiple times as it reappears every couple of days. She also notices that one of its wing pinions is blood-red in color. A remembrance of reading in a book on obscure signs and symbols that such a "blood-feather" raven is seen as an evil omen and is often thought to be in the service of dark powers.
---
As Cailyn is riding with Foldo on his wagon one cloudy morning, Ameiko pulls up near her on the slow, plodding mare she prefers.
"Do you think I'm being selfish?" she asks, attempting to keep her voice low. "Sandru says that's what it is; That these people here didn't sign up for a journey like this. He doesn't seem to understand that this is ..." She turns to meet Cailyn's blue eyes. "This is destiny. You can't ignore destiny, right?"
~~~~
Orchid:
One evening after the camp has been set and the meal has been served, Orchid is about to make her way out into the darkness for her evening foray exploring the area around the camp when she's stopped by Witashta, the older Shoanti woman.
"I see you wolf-girl," she says with a smile. "I see you have travelled farther along the spirit path. Be wary that it is you that is choosing the branches of the path, though, and not the wolf-spirit."
~~~~
Flori:
One morning as Koya is readying herself and her wagon for the day's travel, one of the Moldovary sisters approaches; Florenia, by the red hair. She takes the other side of the blanket that Flori is folding for the elderly woman. "I just wanted you to know that you'll be at the rear of the group today," she says, "So be sure to keep an eye out behind us." She directs her words at Koya, but her eyes meeting Flori's indicate who she expects to take them to heart.
"Oh, no worries," Koya responds, waving the young woman away with one hand as she pulls a tuft of the now-everpresent wolf hair from the well-worn blanket with the other.
Florenia nods in assent and releases the blanket, giving Flori a meaningful glance before she moves off to her other tasks.
"Someone should explain to that girl and her sister that while I'm old, I'm not senile," Koya declares with a quiet chuckle. She turns to give Flori an appraising eye. "So what do you think of this little escapade? The other side of the world is a world away in more than just geography. Can you imagine little Ameiko as an empress?"
~~~~
Vigny:
As Vigny returns from patrol one evening, she finds Sandru in the wagon's shadow, leaning awkwardly against the wheel. He straightens up as she approaches.
"Do you have a moment?" he asks. Once she stops, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The behavior is unusual for the normally confident caravan leader. "I was wondering if ..." he begins, but then shakes his head and looks out into the darkness. "This is really difficult for me. I can usually handle these things without resorting to something like this." He squares his shoulders and steels his nerve.
"I've had to deal with misplaced affections in the past and it's never been as ... uncomfortable as this." He frowns and seems to consider his words carefully. "Could I ask something of you? This is going to be a long journey and I really need to nip this before it gets out of hand."
After drawing a couple more breaths, he blurts out, "Could you talk to Tazio for me? His is a skill that is invaluable out here, but I just don't share his feelings. This is uncomfortable, but I don't think he knows that I know, so I think it would be better if it came from someone that wasn't me."
He waits expectantly for Vigny's response.
~~~~
Shunsen:
As Shunsen is ready to head out with Miseldana for a morning patrol, Sandru stops her. Pulling her aside from the auburn-haired scout, he lowers his voice.
"Can you talk to her?" he questions in earnest. "This whole idea that Ameiko's supposed to be the empress of Minkai is amazing as a thought experiment, but not something that warrants us heading over the Crown of the World, right? It's crazy." He doesn't wait for a response.
"Maybe she'll listen to you because she's certainly not listening to me. Talk to her - please."
Spivey contemplates Cailyn's offer for a few moments, her gaze returning to the worn holy symbol.
"Spivey doesn't know if it will make a difference in the way life moves forward, but ..." she says finally and pauses. "But it would be comforting to know that her end was quick," she finishes.
Images If Cailyn Proceeds ...
Spoiler:
There are many emotions and images to unravel as it seems that the tabard had a long and storied history. The strongest of them are of a tall, blonde-haired woman with green eyes and an easy smile.
Flashes of recent scenes unroll quickly. The woman bantering back and forth with the tiny celestial. Many evenings spent under the stars. The pair exploring the ruined village. Entering the castle unopposed.
The great hall - filled with lumbering, crude bird-men. The red-faced man.
'Seize her! She'll make for a perfect addition to the performance!'
'Spivey! Flee!'
'Spivey wants to help!'
'I command you to flee!'
The heady rush of battle! Blood! Feathers! Pain!
'You idiots ruined her face. She's of no use now. Do what you wish with her. Just make sure it's painful. I haven't heard a good scream in a long time and a beautiful face like that was intended to scream.'
The woman screams. She screams again. And again. And again. And again.
The tabard has nothing else to share.
~~~~~~
Orchid's Morning:
Orchid's slumber is disturbed by Koya's remonstrations.
"You! Out!" she declares, giving the shifter a shove towards the wagon's door. "You leave her be to rest! And I don't need wolf fur all over the inside of my wagon!"
The shifter is rudely forced out into the cool morning air sans clothes. Proving that Koya's not entirely without feelings, a blanket is tossed out a moment later landing at her feet.
While her mistress fights a battle to retain her breakfast, Cailyn's owl manages to tear a chunk of scales off one of the troglodytes. Orchid does Cailyn's crossbow justice and plants a bolt dead-center in one of Vigny's opponents. Shunsen shifts her position and takes down one of the foes with a nasty slash from her falchion.
----------------------------------
Round 2
Flori's acid contributes to the general sense of chaos within the room, but fails to inflict any damage. The troglodytes continue to demonstrate why they've been relegated to the second-fiddle category of villains by missing Vigny entirely.
Shusen, Orchid, Cailyn, and Vigny are up. Then Flori is up for round 3.
GM Screen:
Blue Trog Club Attack vs Vigny AC 16:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 Club Damage:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Green Trog Club Attack vs Vigny AC 16:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 Club Damage:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Orchid borrows Cailyn's crossbow which the occultist hands over with some reluctance. Flore sends a splash of acid which misses her chosen target. Vigny and Shunsen advance to surround the enemy. Shunsen steels herself against the stench, but Vigny feels almost overwhelmed by the odor.
Vigny is sickened.
----------------------------------
Round 1
Flori coats the stone floor with magical grease causing two of them to lose their footing and fall to the floor with an explosion of snarling. The fallen troglodytes barely manage to regain their footing and avoid Shunsen and Vigny's slashing swords in the process. To demonstrate that they're not entirely incompetent, they swing their clubs around ineffectively.
Still inhibited by the creatures' stench, Vigny misses with her blade.
Cailyn, Orchid, and Shunsen are up. Then Flori is up for Round 2.
GM Screen:
Vigny Fort vs DC 13:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
Red Trog Reflex vs DC 16:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9 Blue Trog Reflex vs DC 16:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11 Green Trog Reflex vs DC 16:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18
Red Trog Acrobatics vs DC 10:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (11) - 1 = 10 Blue Trog Acrobatics vs DC 10:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (11) - 1 = 10
Vigny AoO vs Green AC 15:1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 6 - 2 = 5
Red Trog Club Attack vs Shunsen AC 16:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 Club Damage:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Blue Trog Club Attack vs Vigny AC 16:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 Club Damage:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Green Trog Club Attack vs Vigny AC 16:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 Club Damage:1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
"We've given what advice we have," Spivey replies, her stern face softening somewhat. "Our way is not conquest or battle and we know almost nothing of it. But we've seen many come here and be cut to pieces ... stabbed and ... "
She turns away, hiding her small face. A moment later, her emotions mastered, she turns back. "You have skill with sharp and pointy things and you've managed to cut down the nastiest of the bird folk, so perhaps you have what it takes to finish the job." She meets Cailyn's eyes and her lip curls up into a smirk. "As long as you don't fall for any more pretty faces."
Female Human Aiuvarin Flexible Magus 8 | HP 96 | AC 25 | Fort +15 Ref +16 Will +12 | Perc +10 (+14 for initiative) | Spell DC 23
"Magnimar? I've never been there, but Von has. Right, Von?" Vyana tries to draw out a little more information from Adimar. "What kind of work were you doing?" The mage's efforts would normally be more effective, but she seems somewhat distracted by something and frowns.
Orchid heads off around the wall towards the tower on the northern side of the keep followed by Flori and the others.
On the roof of the stone building at the base of the tower, you pass an ancient-looking catapult that sits hunkered down as if trying to hide from the rain that's beginning to fall in earnest. Moss grows on the catapult's ropes and on the four round boulders sitting nearby.
Approaching the door into the tower, Orchid quickly determines that the sturdy looking portal is locked. Cailyn notices that the pattern worked into the metal plate around the keyhole - a spiraling knot - matches the key that you discovered at the ruins of the lighthouse. The key is quickly produced, inserted, and with a bit of protest and a groan of rusted metal the door is unlocked.
Opening the door and stepping inside reveals a round chamber with two staircases - one descending to the first floor and the other climbing further up the tower. There is also a door in the southeast corner of the room. The furniture here - couches, drawing tables, and empty bookshelves - lie in disarray, with the exception of one writing desk and chair in the center of the room, its surface heaped with pages of parchment and paper.
The pages are covered with dense scribblings and revisions in messy Tien writing.
Linguistics DC 20:
The pages seem to be for a nonsensical play about a family of crows that turn into bitter, insane humans.
The caravan leaves Roderick's Cove the next morning along the coast with an extra wagon that Sandru acquired. Two more days of travel and you pass Riddleport with the port city about a half-day's ride to the west of you. From there you travel north along the Velashu river. Shunsen and Fidi are easily able to convince the little monsters that they would face nothing but slaughter attempting to raid the caravan.
Eventually the caravan's path breaks from the river and passes north through a gap in the Red Mountains that leads to The Nolands. Most of the trip has had a smatter of music or song from Ameiko, but whether it's the change in the air here or some other factor there's nothing to accompany your travels other than silence and an air of oppression.
Cloud-cover is low and dampness weighs heavy on you as close the distance between you and your goal.
Flori:
Approaching Koya's wagon one evening you overhear a conversation the wise woman is having with Sandru.
"You're a handsome lad. This can't be the first time you've had to deal with someone who's fallen for your charm," Soya's voice carries just enough for the mage to pick out the words.
"This is different, Bunică," Sandru replies. "I can't just dismiss it. We're going to be traveling together for a while, yet. In the past we've either just worked it out or I've let them go at the next settlement with a severance. I have a feeling that we're going to need all the swords we can get."
"Is there nothing in your heart?" Koya questions. "Sometimes there are feelings there that we find inconvenient and so we push them down and ignore them."
"Not this time," Sandru replies sadly. "I'm just not attracted. Maybe if ... "
There's a pause.
"Is someone outside?"
-----
Part Three: Ruins of Brinewall
Sunday, 4th of Sarenith, 4711 AR (day 19)
The last day before reaching Brinewall dawns dim and cloudy. Rain is threatening, but the caravan presses forward through the dark day. Ameiko tethers her horse to one of the wagons and joins Cailyn and Foldo on the rough wooden bench of the wagon the halfling is driving. The bard only responds to normal conversation with single words. Perhaps nervousness at what might be found in the ruins has tainted her mood.
Late in the day you see the Steam river up ahead and the coarse bridge that crosses it. Sandru calls a halt to the caravan before reaching the crossing and points to a weathered and leaning sign near the side of the road.
To Brinewall
The sign is near an overgrown trail that heads west into a forest.
"We'll set the caravan up here. The village is about a half-mile that way. Once we have the camp established, we'll ..."
Cailyn feels Ameiko slump against her and before she can catch her, the woman falls from the wagon into a heap on the ground below and doesn't move.
The bard is quickly moved to a more comfortable location, but efforts to awaken her fail. After a careful examination, Vigny determines that Ameiko is in some sort of magically induced coma. She also notices that the woman is faintly muttering something over and over.
Vigny strikes true again, opening up another gash on the beast's thigh. "Not stupid! You are!" the ogre counters to the envy of any pre-schooler. Cleo harries the ogre from the rear. It staggers from its injuries and once Flori covers the ground beneath it with a magical grease, it loses the battle against gravity and common sense and falls to the ground with an immense Crash!. Flori's summoned pony then finishes it off with a hoof stomp filled with nothing but friendship.
The ogre that had dealt with Orchid turns to see its companion's head perform a perfect impression of a watermelon and roars in rage. Charging the sparkling pony, it encounters Flori's patch of grease with predictable results, slamming to the ground. It flails at the summoned equine from its prone position with its thick tree branch, managing to catch the pony with a brutal blow to the legs. With a neigh of protest, the pony vanishes back to wherever it was summoned from.
The remaining ogre is prone. Everyone is up!
GM Screen:
Die rolls are currently being made using discord dice bot.
Sandru had hoped to make the village of Galduria by today, but it looks as though it'll be tomorrow morning before you reach that waypoint. The caravan has made camp in a small cleared space near the road and the cook is passing out bowls of stew.
"As good as this is, Wilda, ..." Vasad begins before the dwarf cuts him short.
"If you say one more fooking word about cilantro I will make sure to piss in every bowl I give you from here on out!" Wilda snaps back. "Shait tastes like soap. Why people actually eat it I will never know."
The seemingly regular dinner conversation is interrupted by a shout from Shalelu, "Ogres! Incoming!"
Those with weapons immediately ready them with Sandru directing where to make defenses. Eyeing the five of you, he calls out, "You're in charge of defending Koya," he says, pointing at the colorfully painted wagon - the woman having turned in early without dinner.
You move to follow his orders and then you see at the edge of the light cast by lanterns attached to the wagon two hulking figures. Ogres indeed.
The halfling's eyes widen somewhat at the sight of Cailyn's bundle of chocolate.
"Yes, well ..." he says, shifting the reins to his other hand. His freed hand doesn't reach for anything, but his fingers twitch as if expectation is building. "I could tell you lots of stories, Little Miss. But I must consider and ponder which stories are educational and uplifting and which stories are simply salacious fluff that do nothing but generate prurient interest. Many, many stories to consider." He glances down at the chocolate and then back at the road.
A short walk leads Vigny to the small open area set aside as temporary caravansary. There she finds three sturdy wagons being loaded by a motley crew of workers. They glance up at her and then pay her no mind. All that is, except for a tall, pale-haired Ulfen man who gives her nod before returning to his task of loading barrels with his thick arms.
A woman's gravelly voice comes to her from the other side of a covered wagon. "Jest leave m' be. I got this handled," the voice snaps.
Vigny rounds the corner of the wagon to find a bald dwarf standing in the back of the wagon and conversing with ... Sandru.
"I'm sure you do, Wilda, but this is for Ameiko so I want it to be tight and by the numbers," Sandru replies.
"I got your tight and by the numbers right here, Pretty Boy," the dwarf replies, grabbing her crotch in a vulgar gesture. Sandru laughs. "You know you're much too much woman for me, Wilda."
"That I am," the dwarf replies. "But any time you wanna give it a ride." She winks and then glances up to see Vigny watching. "What do you want, Princess?"
Sandru turns and tilts his head in recognition. "Vigny? Vigny Einarsdottir, right?" he asks with a friendly smile.
Vigny misses the lead skeleton with her club. Shunsen falls back and Flori's pony appears. Friendship being its stock in trade, combat is something entirely new to the summoned pony and it fails to connect with its kicking hooves. The mage's flung acid, however, sizzles and burns at the skeleton next to Vigny. The damage distracts the undead enough for Vigny to avoid the creature's sharp claws.
Orchid is up!
GM Screen:
White Skeleton Claw Attack vs Vigny AC 19:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15 Claw Damage vs Vigny:1d4 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
White Skeleton Claw Attack vs Vigny AC 19:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 Claw Damage vs Vigny:1d4 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Orange Skeleton Acrobatics vs DC 10:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 Blue Skeleton Acrobatics vs DC 10:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9 Green Skeleton Acrobatics vs DC 10:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
It's hard to determine which was the telling blow, but the combination of claws, blades, crossbow bolt, and thrown rock is more than enough to vanquish the ooze-like creature in a fashion that fulfills Vigny's worst-case scenario as viscous liquid sprays across her, Shunsen, and Orchid.
Oh, and to add insult to injury, it smells like potato soup that's been left outside in the sun for a week.
Combat Ends!
With the creature defeated, it's relatively easy to navigate the cold water (five foot at its deepest) and recover the rock crystals from the small island.
As the afternoon of Oathday turns into evening, the crowd gathered at the Rusty Dragon feels slightly larger than normal. Those familiar with the tavern's regulars can tell that most of them have turned up to observe who would be brave (or desperate) enough to take up the town's offer.
As Flori makes her rounds lighting the lanterns for the evening, Sheriff Hemlock enters, followed closely by Mayor Deverin. The two appear to be engaged in a whispered argument as the Sheriff pulls down the notice from near the doorframe. After a bit more back and forth, he turns his back on her and makes his way to the worn bar. Grabbing a nearby empty tankard, he knocks it loudly on the bar's surface, drawing everyone's attention.
"Good Evening to all of you," he announces. "And particularly to those of you that are considering taking up our offered bounty."
Mayor Deverin glowers, but doesn't say anything.
"I'll make this quick. As the proclamation declares and as you've probably heard, we've got a problem with the Licktoad goblins in Brinestump Marsh." He pauses and looks around at the waiting group mentally dividing those attending between onlookers and those with more serious intentions. "For dealing with this specific issue," he looks pointedly at the mayor before turning back to the crowd, "The town is reinstating the bounty of ten gold per goblin ear turned in to the town hall. In addition, we will pay a bonus of three hundred gold for the head of the Licktoad's leader, Chief Gutwad."
There's some murmuring in the gathered group as well as some laughter. The mayor steps close and whispers heatedly to Sheriff Hemlock and after a sigh of resignation, he raises his hand. The murmurs quiet.
"Be advised that this isn't a lark for bored kids. Brinestump Marsh will happily eat up anyone that goes in carelessly, so, please, for everyone's sake, don't be stupid and don't go alone. Anyone planning on attempting this should get together with others. Go as a group. Work as a group." He sighs again. "Earlier this week we sent some so-called 'adventurers' out there and they haven't been seen since. But last night there were more explosions just south of town over the wetlands. We think the goblins are readying another attack. So keep your eyes open."
"The Marsh may not be as large as the Mushfens, but it's dense and tangled. It’s easy to get lost. No one’s made a really detailed map because there's been no need - there's nothing there that's worth anything. If anyone knows his way around in the marsh, it’d be Walthus Proudstump, the self-appointed 'warden' of the swamp. There's a fishing trail that leads from the Lost Coast Road directly to Walthus’s shack in the swamp. Anyone attempting this could do a lot worse than following that trail to seek out his advice."
Mayor Deverin crosses her arms and shakes her head in annoyance.
"Ameiko has generously offered the use of the Dragon's meeting room," Hemlock gestures towards a open door near the end of the bar, "So I'd suggest that anyone interested in taking up this task meet back there to coordinate with other like-minded individuals."
Female Half-elf Vigilante 2 | HP 13 | AC 18 Touch 14 FF 13 | Fort +1 Ref +7 Will +5 | Init +3 | Perc +8 - Low-light vision | Speed 30'
Both Ginetta and Rose are Neutral Good.
Mechanically and story-wise, I wasn't really worried about an identity leak to NPCs or the other PCs as a whole. In fact, it would be hard to keep the secret from the other PCs for very long anyway. I'm just hoping to make it a story moment for possible drama with Adolina.
"I didn't internalize the fifteen enumerations of how one's will is intertwined with one's self-image just to blast brutes with flames!" Farrina snaps back. "It's not my strong suit!"
Farrina downs the 'cocktail' with a grimace. "Not to sound ungrateful, Luv, but would it kill you to just once mix up something like that with a good dwarven whiskey?"
"No, we've never dealt with the Slumbering King with aid before," Farrina interrupts the champion, stepping to his side and throwing an arm around his shoulders. "But there's a first time for everything." She turns to Cassiel and places a finger with an elaborately painted nail on his lips.
"Now don't be selfish. They're welcome to join and risk their lives for the invaluable glory that awaits. While it's true that many of them may die, that's the risk that all heroes face."
She turns to the kholos.
"Isn't that right?"
"Don't argue, Darling. Just play along," she mutters quietly to Cassiel.
Female Human Aiuvarin Flexible Magus 8 | HP 96 | AC 25 | Fort +15 Ref +16 Will +12 | Perc +10 (+14 for initiative) | Spell DC 23
Vyana's brain is in a spin with so many conflicting feelings as the pair make their way back to her home. And Viviana's warm arm entwined with her own is having an unexpected, but not entirely undesired effect on her as well.
"Just be glad you didn't see it earlier," Vyana replies with quiet laugh at Viv's compliment. "Mama would have had a few words to say to me about it."
She invites Viviana to take a seat on the short bench next to the table and notices the small bunch of flowers that Siobhan placed in a vase in the center of the table. Clasping her hands together and placing them on the table, she sits partially turned towards her friend.
"Okay, so ... I've got some things I want to say and some things that I need to say," she begins with a drawn breath. "And I'm pretty sure that I'll only be brave enough to say this once. So please, let me finish before you ... respond."
She takes a moment gathering her strength.
"First off ... I want to say that you, Von, and Helmy have been the greatest friends anyone could ever ask for. And while they have their strengths, you ... you are amazing. Your talent and heart fill whatever space you're in to the point that anyone that doesn't already love you must have no heart of their own." She smiles. "When you sing, I have no doubt that everyone listening feels like you're singing just for them, because I know that's how I feel. You're beautiful and you're compassionate and everyone wants to fall under your gaze."
She reaches out and idly turns the vase on the table.
"When Mama got sick, you were right there helping her every chance you could." A tremor creeps into Vyana's words. "Every time you'd leave for the day, she'd have nothing but good things to say about you. You brought such cheer into her life."
Vyana swallows and pushes the vase away and her eyes close.
"And when she died ... I was lost. It was like the center of my world just ... vanished. And the person that I most wanted to turn to to tell me that it would be all okay ... left. Just left."
She holds up a hand to forestall any words.
"I ... I think I understand why you left. And I won't even say that it wasn't the right thing to do. But I want you to understand ... I need you to understand how much that hurt. How betrayed I felt. If you had shoved a knife into my back, I can't imagine that it would have given me as much pain as your leaving did. Pain can cause people to ... do things that they later regret."
"I'm not telling you this to hurt you or make you feel bad. I just ... I just need you to understand. I care about you, Viv. I want ..." She sighs. "I don't even know what I really want. But I think I know what you want. And all I can say is that before we can develop ... whatever exists between us ... any further, I have to overcome this fear deep inside that you'll hurt me again like that. Words and promises won't fix this. Just time."
She finally reaches out and takes Viv's hand in her own.
"... time to rebuild the trust that we had."
Vyana tips her head towards her companion. "But I'm not blind to the fact that you're a very beautiful and desirable woman, so if time is not something you want to spend ... I understand."
She gives Viviana's hand a light squeeze and releases it, clasping her own hands together again in front of her.
"That ... that's what I needed to say," she says and prepares herself for her friends response.
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
The Waiting Is The Hardest Part:
"She'll be fine." Sariana says, not looking up from her vigil over Tandri's body as Floare enters the underground chamber. "The change is coming faster than yours did. Another day, two at most. Then I'll take her out for her first hunt. You two can't go together until she has a handle on the thirst. You won't be strong enough to stop her yet. It won't be long though - my Sweetling won't want to disappoint me, or be any slower than you were." Her smile is proud, she clearly appreciates her girls competing for her approval.
Floare kneels down, unable to resist the urge to lean in to sample the scent of Tandri's neck. Her eyes close in pleasure. "She still smells like ... Tandri," she says with a grin. Her eyes open and she sits back. One hand reaches out and adjusts a loose tendril of the tiefling's hair. "Did I look so peaceful?" she asks.
"You did actually." Sariana says, wrapping Floare in her arms from behind. "It took longer with you but the change was easy until the last days. You were so alive, I think something in you fought. But everything Tandri wants is waiting for her on this side. She's accepted the change, accepted everything, so it's moving quickly." Her nose trails down Floare's neck. "You smell perfect Little One." She whispers. "I'm looking forward to having you both once Tandri's awake. I won't have to hold back for your fragile mortal bodies any more!"
Floare melts into her Queen's embrace, but her eyes and attention remain on the still form of the priestess. "Do you think this will cause any strife with her goddess?"
"I have no idea." Sariana replies and Floare can feel the shrug at her back. "She's following her passions and that's a calistran thing? She doesn't reject the undead at least. That's a teaching point Little One - be very careful with Pharasmins and Sarenrites from now on. Most other god's followers can be reasoned with but those two will destroy you first and not regret it second. I am not losing you to some stupid priest with a stake fetish." Her grip tightens, so much that mortal Floare's ribs would have been creaking or broken, but New Floare merely feels some tightness. "I should have taken longer over those fools who tried to take you from me."
"We'll have to expect more of that in the future as Nightsong grows. A bard wrote, 'People throw rocks at things that shine.' And I think that applies here." Just for the pleasure of it, she takes a long breath. "It'll take more than a couple of thugs with knives to do anything more than rouse our ire."
"Next time you're going to find out who sent them and I'm going to send their assassins back to them." Sariana growls in Floare's ear. "I will bathe their lands in blood until they learn if I have to!"
"If that is my queen's wish, then I live to obey," Floare responds with a smile. "And speaking of my queen's wishes ... How about you take me back upstairs and we ..." She leans in to whisper in Sariana's ear and the vampire can feel the heat in Floare's skin - a mix of embarassment and desire.
A quick laugh of surprise escapes Floare's lips as Sariana lifts her in her strong arms and exits the room with supernatural speed.
"Your weapons may be closer to 'hand'," Elisabetta growls with a smile, "But you can't expect me to ..." Her heeled boot comes down hard on Petey's instep. "... 'foot' the bill for your misdeeds." The strike isn't enough to cause any real damage, but it's enough to cause the large man to shift his stance just a bit to avoid her weight. Unfortunately for him, it is enough to give the Brava the real opening she was looking for. Whatever sound her knee made as it connected with Petey's jewels is masked in a collective empathetic grunt of pain from the crowd.
"And as you see, I don't have a 'kneed' for my weapons," she continues. As Petey's hands release her arms and instinctively move protectively to his groin. Elisabetta follows up by grabbing his ears and bringing his face down to meet that self-same knee.
"Now everyone 'nose' not to lay a hand on a lady without her express consent. Did your mother not teach you that?"
Assuming that most of the fight has been drained out of the man, Elisabetta turns her attention back to Four-fingers. As if nothing untoward has taken place, she saunters over to take the empty stool at the old man's barrel.
"Now let's talk about my friend Sasha," she begins again. "I respect the fact as a businessman, you like to keep the confidences of those that you do business with. However, I believe that Sasha's in trouble. And as a friend of hers, it's my duty to take whatever measures are required to ensure that she sleeps soundly in her own bed tonight, unharmed."
She glances over to where Petey is slowly pushing himself to his feet. "I can't say the same for those that stand in my way."
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
Fluff:
As the carriage moved through the narrow streets, Floare pulled out the official looking missive from the pocket of her dress and scanned it again. Normally she would never second-guess meeting the Brevoy ambassador, but this felt ... different.
... very important that we meet with you ... information that your embassy offices are compromised ... private location ...
She glanced out through the thick curtains that enclosed the carriage at the unseasonally lovely weather that was blanketing Nightsong today. She had arranged the carriage soon after her transformation to allow her to still easily traverse the city without the threat of looming death from the burning rays of the sun. But now it served to keep her relatively anonymous.
"And there was nothing else said when this was delivered?" she questioned.
"No, My Lady," her scribe and secretary, Madina, replied with a bow of her head. The girl was seated next to her in the close confines of the vehicle and her thick skirts brushed against Floare's leg through the witch's thin dress. "It was just a standard courier who dropped it off."
Floare frowned.
Is something wrong, Mom?
Dante lifted his head from where his furry form filled the bench across from them.
"I don't think so, my Sweet Boy. It's just ... I always get nervous when I meet with these people."
The slowed and turned carefully into a dimly lit storage building before coming to a halt.
"Now we must be on our best behavior, Madina," Floare instructed as she opened the small door and gestured for the girl to lead her out. "Yes, My Lady."
Madina stepped out and down before turning to extend her hand for the 'Grand Ambassador'. Never comfortable with the airs she was expected to adopt as the principal negotiator for the kingdom, Floare had dispensed with the elaborate dress that had been laid out for her this morning, choosing to wear something light and airy in response to the weather. Stepping down onto the hard packed earthen floor of the building she reveled in the feel of dirt beneath her feet. The uncomfortable shoes were still resting next to the elaborate dress in her private chambers. Dante's large form joined her as she stepped forward to meet with the Brevoy ambassador.
Except this wasn't the man she usually met with.
"Who are you?" she questioned with a frown. Her eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the shadows of the building, noticing more figures than there should be. The fact that the man's uniform was clearly a sham was so obvious as to be laughable. Did they really expect to deceive her this way?
"Now, Pance!" one of the figures shouted out. There was a flurry of activity followed by a banging and groaning from above as a section of the building's roof fell away. Madina cried out in surprise and Floare blinked as the area she was standing in was bathed in the light of the bright midday sun.
The success of the trap was met with cheers and yells of jubilation from the gathered group of a half-dozen men and women. Those same cries faded off into an awkward silence as Floare continued to stand there and glare at them instead of bursting into flames as was expected.
"Uh .. Tom? You told us she was ... you know ... a vampire," one of the group questioned, leaning in to the man dressed in the fake Brevoy livery. "Shouldn't something be happening? Like flames or something?"
A low growl echoed from Dante's chest and Floare placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Oh, I am. A vampire, that is," she replied, allowing her fangs to show. "Did I disrupt your plan? I must apologize. You really need to make your intentions more clear if there's a role I'm expected to play."
Some nervous muttering began, but it was silenced by a wave of Tom's hand. "You lot have already been paid. The job ain't changed. It'll just need to be a little more bloody."
Floare shook her head. "You didn't really have a backup plan for this, did you? Simply burn me with sunlight and go your merry way? Well that's failed and now you only have two options." She glanced at her scribe. "Madina? Get back in the carriage." With a flurry of trailing of skirts, the young girl made haste to do her lady's bidding.
Turning back to the group in front of her, Floare counted figures. Five, including Tom. Well within her capabilities.
"Option one is to try to eliminate me with whatever sticks, clubs, and blades you actually thought to bring. Whereas I'm always armed." Smiling wider to show her teeth at their most intimidating, she also summoned a ball of flames into her hand. "Option two, on the other hand, is to take whatever coin you've already been paid and make for the border with the utmost haste." She shrugs her shoulders. "You might even make it."
Dante's growl grew louder and he joined his mother in baring his numerous teeth designed for the sole purpose of ripping and tearing meat.
"F!~! this," was heard from the back and after a quick rustle of boots Tom was the only one left.
"I ain't afraid of your pup," Tom said with a sneer, drawing a short blade from his belt. "He's not the one you should be afraid of," Floare countered with a smile.
----
Floare closed the carriage door as she slipped inside, shrouding the interior with shadows. Wiping the blood from her lips, she took her seat next to a flustered Madina. "You ... you fed on him, My Lady?" she questioned in surprise. "I did more than feed on him," Floare replied, making herself comfortable. Turning a curious gaze towards her assistant, she couldn't help but notice the girl's stiff posture. "Why? Are you jealous?" The girl's hand flew up protectively to her neck, covering the healing bite marks that her delicate scarf didn't quite conceal. "N-no. Of course not. My Lady is free to feed upon those she chooses," the girl stammered, turning away.
"I've told you this before, Madina. I will not show favoritism towards any of those who choose to pro-offer themselves. Her Majesty, Lady Nightsong, is most jealous of that which belongs to her and I am most certainly hers. If she thought that you had caught my eye in any way ... Those that attempt to take what is hers never meet a pleasant end."
"Of course, My Lady. I'm sorry."
There was silence in the carriage broken only by the muffled sounds of Dante satisfying his own predatory hunger on what remained of Tom outside.
"Do we know who really sent him?" Madina finally asked. Floare shook her head and frowned. "No. He was hired via a written missive with an initial payment in gold. A larger payment was to follow once the job was completed." She holds up a blood-spattered piece of parchment. "Nothing else to indicate who was responsible."
"So you're really letting the rest of them go?"
Floare laughed. "Those that attempt to take what is hers never meet a pleasant end," she repeats. "Her Majesty takes great joy in the chase. I give them less than one chance in fifty of getting even half-way to the border." Reaching up, she tapped on the ceiling of the carriage and the driver began the labor of turning it around to return to the royal residence. Her Mistress must be informed.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Elisabetta chanted over and over to herself as she quickly made her way to the entrance hall, the tapping of her boots on the parquet floor echoing off of the elegantly papered walls. The servant holding out her cloak and blade paled at her expression - a reminder that she still needed to work on masking her emotions.
Taking a moment to strap on her rapier, she checked the scarlet glove that was hanging off her belt - the badge of being a Brava - and slipped the cloak over her shoulders before pushing her way out the held door into the rain. The culottes she was wearing were practical as well as elegantly styled - no way in the hells was she wearing a dress - but the twinge behind her eyes was telling her that whatever she faced tonight was going to leave them in such a state that Annalise was going to have words with her when she returned them in the morning.
She paused in the midst of the rain when she realized that she didn't actually know where she was going. Her first thought was to pay a visit to the Flayed Falcon, the tavern where Sasha spent a fair amount of time. But then she cringed at the memory of what happened the last time she was there. It was a misunderstanding, of course. How was she supposed to know that the serving girl was in a relationship with one of Sasha's best informants. It's not like the girl rebuked Elisabetta's advances.
The Brava couldn't help but smile at the memory.
The jilted beau was stupid enough to challenge her to a duel. Elisabetta still felt that he should be thankful that she only broke his nose. Sasha, however, didn't see it that way. The only thing she cared about was that he'd raised his prices and refused to return to the Falcon if Elisabetta was going to be a regular patron. Stupid t%%@. If he'd kept his girl happy in the first place then his nose wouldn't have that new bend in it.
Elisabetta shook her head. No, she didn't need Sasha even more pissed at her, justified or not. So where else could she find out what the woman was up to and where she was at? After a moment of thought, she remembered that Sasha had mentioned a dive she'd visited for gossip on more than one occasion. It didn't even have a proper name, they just called it ... Samson's? No ... Samwell's! That was it. She nodded and strode off through the rain with purpose.
...
The place wasn't even respectable enough to hang a shingle or have a decent common area. It was just an unused storage room attached to a larger warehouse. Barrels placed around the room served as tiny tables for the games of Loggers they were playing with bone dice. Heads turned as she entered and more than one expression of surprise. Her garments fit for an elegant party were quite out of place here.
"Oi, Luv," one fellow drawled, his scruffy beard split with a scar across his jaw, "I bet you charge a pretty coin." Rude laughter followed until she shifted her cloak so her blade and the glove in her belt flashed in the lantern-light. The laughter died and the occupants quickly became much more interested in their games and drinks.
"I'm looking for an Eye by the name of Sasha Pyrope and I'm sure someone here has had business with her recently. Now who would that be?"
Other than something muttered under the breath, there was no response.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Elisabetta challenged. Her patience - never thick to begin with - was quickly wearing thin.
"I said," the bearded man with the scar said in a clear voice as he stood from his stool, "Go mount a lamp pole you monied c&#$."
Elisabetta's lip curled into a smile. Yes, Annalise was going to have words with her in the morning.
Female Human Aiuvarin Flexible Magus 8 | HP 96 | AC 25 | Fort +15 Ref +16 Will +12 | Perc +10 (+14 for initiative) | Spell DC 23
Confronting Lonjiku
"VIV!" Vyana cries out without even thinking. Trying to pull her emotions back into place, she turns her attention to Siobhan. "Von! Keep him busy!" she calls out before moving up to drag the bleeding priestess away from the enraged spirit.
Trying to remember what her mother had taught her, she checked the girl's lifepoints and then examined her for the worst of the injuries. There was still a lifebeat at her neck, but the priestess was losing blood at a furious rate. With her own heart racing in her chest, Vyana rummaged through her bag looking for the pink-tinted crystal vial of healing liquid. There was only a small amount, but hopefully it would keep her alive long enough to reach the church. Looking back at Viv, Vyana could tell that this would all be for naught with all the glass permeating the girl's body.
Setting the potion aside, Vyana closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. It was easy to cast a spell when you were sitting in your own home with your mother gently encouraging you to focus. But with a screaming ghost less than ten feet away it was a different challenge altogether. She tried to imagine Vari's hand on her should and her soft voice in her ear. "You can do this, Chhoti," she would say and Vy could feel her panic recede. The arcane words came haltingly at first, but as the warmth of the magic filled her, her confidence grew.
Opening her eyes, Vy forced herself to look upon Viviana's slashed and bleeding form, the glint of blood-covered glass shards everywhere. With the focus of the spell in her mind, she spread her hands as if parting a crowd in front of her. The shards shimmered and twisted before pulling out of the tattered flesh. Viv groaned in pain as the razor-sharp fragments pulled away.
Hours of training prevented Vyana from flinging the broken pieces into the far corner of the room. "We must always think of the end result, Chhoti" her mother would say. Holding to her lessons, Vyana mentally gathered all of the pieces of glass and moved them into a neat pile behind her, away from the injured girl. Only when the last piece was freed from her mental grasp did she return her attention to Viv.
"Here, Viv, drink this," she managed, her voice now choking up with emotion as she pulled the stopper from the potion vial and tipped the contents carefully between Viviana's pale lips. "Helmut! Gather all of that glass into a bag or sack. I think I know what needs to be done."
Female Human Aiuvarin Flexible Magus 8 | HP 96 | AC 25 | Fort +15 Ref +16 Will +12 | Perc +10 (+14 for initiative) | Spell DC 23
Six Months Before ...
Vyana pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders as the wind off the sea picked up sending a chill through her body. In truth, she did it out of habit, hearing her mother's gentle voice warning her of the dangers of the cool air off the water as the sun set. Reaching up she wiped the drying tears from her cheeks. The ground was hard and stony beneath her as she sat on the cliffside, but it was something else she only felt as if it were being told to her in a story. Nothing felt real.
She would have given everything she had to hear soft words in lilting Vadruni explaining that it was her duty to remain by the grave until the last of the mourners had paid their respects.
"I'm sorry, Mama," she whispered in a choked voice. "I just couldn't stay. I know they'll mutter about me, but I just couldn't face another pitying glance. You were always stronger than I was. I guess I let you down." She forced a smile to her face. "You would have loved the service, though. Father Zantus gave a beautiful eulogy and Viv wore her nicest dress. Even Ser Helmut polished up his gear." The smile faded. "Von couldn't make it, but that wasn't her fault. She's in Magnimar, studying at the church there. I sent her a letter, but ..."
The edge of the sun dropped below the waves and Vyana began to finally feel the cold seeping into her bones. Pushing up from the ground, she brushed the dirt from her hands and pulled the rough cloak even tighter around herself.
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
"They could be," Floare replies with a nod towards Deregar. "But I don't wish us to fall into paranoia, second-guessing every conversation we have with anyone."
Fluff - Tandri:
Sometime a little later in the morning Floare enters Tandri's office to find the tiefling furiously applying quill to parchment. The witch carries a small basket filled with stuffed breads and fruit, along with a bottle of not-too-horrible wine of Nightsong vintage. Dante looks up with a wolfy grin and his tail brushes across the floor in good spirits. Setting the basket on the desk away from the precious ledgers and papers, Floare pulls up one of the stools in the room to take a seat close to the smaller woman.
"I wanted to apologize for not being there this morning," she says after a moment. Tandri recognizes the telltale signs on Floare's skin of another session spent with their mistress. Someone else might mistake them for the results of having spent an afternoon tending her rose garden (which Floare's is nothing if not glorious), but the dwarf has experienced the same many times. "It was selfish, but I wanted to meet Sariana as soon as she got back." The witch's eyes avoid Tandri's and roam around the room as if seeking out something else to talk about.
Silence stretches out in the small room, only broken by the scratching of Tandri's quill. Finally Floare's hand reaches out and touches Tandri's wrist, stilling the woman's movements. With her other hand she cups the pink chin and tips the other woman's face up to meet her own. "I wish to accept her offer," she says simply. "But if that will unbalance our relationship then I won't."
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
"It's trying to corrupt us from the inside, yes," Floare agrees with a frown. "But it led us down a false trail. We're going to have to dig deeper if we want to pull it up by the roots."
Leveling Fluff:
With the growing size of the holdings, it is getting harder and harder to find peaceful, private time with those closest to her. Consequently, Floare has taken to rising earlier and earlier in the morning to bask in the quiet of the pre-dawn hours.
Slipping smoothly from under the warmth of the blankets and the arms of the cutely snoring tiefling, the witch tosses a thin shawl over her bare skin and moves soundlessly from the room, gesturing to a waking Dante to stay with Tandri. Knowing well the paths that will avoid encountering any of the staff that are already active this early in the morning, she makes her way to a side entrance and then up a steep stair to find herself walking across the heavy shakes to the peak of the roof.
The cool morning air raises goosebumps over her skin as she gazes upwards at the sprawl of stars still visible in the clear night sky. The scent of baking bread mixes with the familiar smell of the stables and Tandri's growing menagerie to create a comforting smell of 'home'. She still aches from the previous evening's pleasurable activities and knows that she'll have to remember to attend to her arms and legs with the herbal brew else the numerous bruises that will likely appear will arouse too many whispers and rumors. Not that they would be unfounded.
Knowing her Mistress's proclivities, she expects that the evening spent with her and Tandri will not have completely vented Sariana's frustrations with not locating the source of the 'invasion' and she will seek out a more ... expendable ... target. No doubt some miscreant that feels, mistakenly, that they are a predator and the people of Nightsong are their prey. This night they'll discover what it really feels like to be prey. Floare wonders why the idea of her Mistress silently stalking some unsuspecting thief or murderer is oddly arousing.
The eastern sky is just beginning to show a hint of the coming dawn when she feels the presence behind her on the roof. No sound reaches her ears, yet she can feel Sariana just the same. One moment, nothing, and the next, the sensation of being watched by something hungry and dangerous. She tips her head exposing her neck and shoulder as the presence grows stronger and she feels warm lips touch her cool skin. Such warmth was an indicator of only one thing.
"I see you've fed, My Love," Floare says softly.
"What are you doing up here, Little One?" Sariana whispers, continuing to press kisses peppered with small, sharp points along the exposed skin.
"I knew you would come back this way," Floare responds, leaning back as strong arms slip around her waist. "I was wondering if you would like to join me in viewing my last sunrise?"
The arms around her waist stiffen and then roughly turn her around to meet the vampire's demanding eyes that seek truth in her own.
"If the offer's s-still open, that is," Floare adds, the intensity of Sariana's gaze even in the darkness is unnerving.
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
Purposefully ignoring the derogatory jab, Floare steps forward assuming her designated role, Dante's large form pressing against her hip.
"Her Most Royal Majesty, Sariana Nightsong brings you greetings and graces you with her presence," she declares, gesturing at her mistress grandly.
"Please deliver to your leader the message that my Lady will speak with them with no delay. Make haste for misunderstandings cause anger."
She pauses for effect.
"With anger comes war. With war comes fire and many, many dead goblins."
Female Elf Fighter 6 | HP 78 | AC 24 | Fort +12 Ref +13 Will +12 | Perc +12 (+14 for initiative) | Hero Point: 0/3
Being a warrior, Fallende would concede matters of magical ideology to her Ange, the new woman, Elara, or even Isabel if push came to shove. But that didn't mean that she was entirely ignorant on the subject. She was a daughter of the House Westagho after all. And no one that carried that name left their home without a thorough education in arcane matters. So, while her sister might belittle the knowledge Fallende held, it was not insubstantial.
Feeling the tendrils of emotional magic slithering into her psyche, the elf reacted just as she had been taught - counter with a stronger emotion.
"Arrêt! Vous ne m'influencerez pas!" she shouts out.
Female Elf Fighter 6 | HP 78 | AC 24 | Fort +12 Ref +13 Will +12 | Perc +12 (+14 for initiative) | Hero Point: 0/3
Fully ready to call Isabel out on her lies, Fallende's lips snap shut when Charlotte confirms her claims. Disbelief and ... betrayal? ... flash across her face.
"I did not realize that you had so little confiance ... faith ... in my abilities. You believe that I failed you. Je suis désolé." She takes a breath and the hurt vanishes from her face to be replaced with acceptance.
She accepts the rest of Charlotte's healing in silence before stepping aside with crossed arms, her eyes scanning the room for any threats as Isabel searches.
Casia moves through the narrow confines of the alleyway with trepidation. The environment is one that she's quite comfortable in. Even adding in whatever light leaks from filth-covered windows to the dim space isn't enough to pierce the vaporous steam that fills the air.
No, it's not the environment that has Casia on edge - It's the destination.
The alley opens onto a cramped courtyard that's illuminated by a single harsh lamppost. The area is crowded by tubs filled with steaming water kept hot by coal-burning braziers. A number of women labor away at the tubs scrubbing clothes against ribbed boards and muttering gossip between themselves.
Taking a deep breath, she approaches a woman. The attractiveness she must have possessed in her youth has long been worn away by hard labor that's created heavy lines in her face and streaks of gray in her now-brittle hair.
"What do you want, Cas?" she says, her attention remaining focused on the wet lump of cloth she's rubbing up and down against her washboard.
"I ... I need to talk to her, Aunt Verona" she stammers out meekly.
"You know she doesn't want to talk to you. Just go away."
"I have to talk to her. It's about Fin."
"What about Finraeth?" a shrill voice calls out and Casia stiffens while the tired woman's shoulders slump.
Casia turns to see her. Mother is adjusting her faded skirts as she steps from another alley whose usage is best left unexamined. "Did you not hear me, Casia? I asked you a question. What about Finraeth?" The woman's face tightens. "If you're here to whine about him finally growing some sense and divesting himself of your toxic presence then you won't find any sympathy here. That would bring a tiny bit of cheer to the nightmare that is my life."
"No, I ... He's ..." Casia begins, but finds that she doesn't know if she can say what she came to say.
"He's what, Girl!" Mother snaps, stepping forward and grabbing Casia's shoulder in a claw-like grip. "What's happened to my boy?!"
"He's ... he's in Ironhook," Casia manages to spit out and closes her eyes.
"What?!"
The woman releases Casia's shoulder and stumbles back, her hand now clutching at her chest. "No. NO! Noooooo!!!" she screams before falling to her knees. "My baby boy!" she sobs as some of the other ladies rush to her side. The rest watch on in greedy fascination as drama unfolds before them.
Casia's aunt takes a tired breath and hangs the shirt she's working on over the edge of the metal tub. "Just go away, Cas. I think you've done enough here." She shuffles over to Mother's side and kneels down to take the woman in her arms. "There's no more damage you can cause."
Ignoring all the onlookers and their thirst for entertainment, Casia simply turns and slips back into the darkness of the alley.
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
Before they leave, Floare spends a few moments with the villagers, checking to make sure that any injuries have been dealt with and leaving instructions that the heads of the slain goblins should be mounted on poles for any wandering scouts to see.
Dante struts through the thankful survivors as well, taking no little joy in the attention he receives as the town's namesake.
Once the obligations of station have been met, she joins the group as they follow after Nok-Nok.
Female Human Vampire Witch (Wild) 10 | HP 88 | AC 24 | Fort +16 Ref +16 Will +16 | Perc +14 | Focus 3 | Hero Point: 1/3 || Familiar (Dante) AC 24 | HP 60
Perception vs DC 18:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Floare understands what Tandri is attempting to do, but she doesn't call her on it. Instead, she carries on the conversation with the sensitive tiefling as if nothing out of the ordinary is taking place.
When they come upon the squad of goblins, she takes a firm grip of Dante's ruff as he attempts to engage with a growl.
'Mom! There are goblins attacking my town! Let me rip them to shreds!'
"Patience, my Good Boy," she soothes. "Forms must be obeyed." She then steps forward to do her job as emmisary. Her familiar grudgingly remaining at her side.
"You are in the presence of Her Majesty, Sariana, Queen of the Darkness, the Stalking Shadow, and the first and last of her name!" she shouts out. "Bow down and humble yourselves upon the ground and she will let you live long enough to explain why you wage war upon her village!"
'My village. It's my village, Mom. Lady Sari said it was mine.'
