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Hey y'all, I'm really sorry but I just don't have the time to post consistently in any way right now and there's no telling when I'll be free again. I know I was only here briefly but I enjoyed playing with y'all. I just can't continue at the moment.
Hi Jit, your sheet says you have 5 level 1 spells per day. I think it's more due to your high CHA, right? Yup! I had it updated in my header but not the long form sheet. Thanks!
Guiding this pack of landlubbers isn’t easy going, but Jit at least finds that they’re putting their backs into it and getting the ship repaired nicely. The whole while she tries desperately just to focus on the repairs and making sure the Cobalt Eye doesn’t get more thoroughly run aground, instead of the wretched feeling in her gut that something here will go horribly wrong. That the morning work goes surprisingly well goes a long way toward Jit almost relaxing during lunch. She eats very little (although it’s better than none at all) and keeps her attention split between the ship and the gathering hordes on the horizon. Then it happens. Jit can only watch, paralyzed with fear as the beam crashes into her, knocking her to the ground with a crash and a loud ‘crack.’ She groans pitifully as she comes back to her senses, seeing the beam set aside while Chest Thumper and Francis bicker. She attempts to sit up, but lies back down with a groan of pain, her vision spotty. As CT’s magic flows through her, the blood rushing in her ears grows quieter and her breathing less labored. “Thanks,” she manages to gasp out after he’s done, tenderly feeling the small leftover bruise on her chest. When the unlucky culprit is revealed, Jit starts to tremble. She descends into a quivering mess, muttering and cursing under her breath. She immediately climbs down the side of the ship, planting herself in the sand. She directs the others as she had through the morning, but refuses to even touch the ship until the repairs are complete.
Jit tucks into the nightly stew more heartily than lunch. Perhaps her light lunch is catching up with her, or her evolution from nervousness to full blown bad luck paranoia has had a reverse effect on her appetite. Either way, she’s mostly silent with the occasional mutter, twitching and jumping at every shadow. She looks up at Chest Thumper as he delivers his proud and confident declaration of their successes today and their success in the future. The poor fool. She speaks up, above her usual muttering volume to add, “Let’s just get off this accursed island. We’ll take the ship and deliver those goods back to Pridon’s Hearth, but after that I want nothing to do with that blasted thing.” ---
Oops! I forgot to include a roll. Should I go ahead and throw a roll in the gameplay thread?
In the cabin, Jit falls into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning on her hammock. She wakes with a start when she feels the ship shudder as something smashes into it. She’s up in a flash, pointer finger out ready to zap whatever is attacking her. She keeps her attention on the door, glancing from it to Aza and back as the assault continues. When it eventually subsides, Jit maintains her vigilance, staying awake as much as she can during the night in wide-eyed terror. In the morning, she wakes up on the floor, slumped down from her guard position having fallen asleep from exhaustion at some point. Her back hurts and she wipes the dried saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand, then pulls it away just as quickly when some remnant of electricity gives her a mild shock. Taking stock and finding the cabin still in tact, she ventures outside to join the others in the morning light. She keeps her breakfast light, with a cup of wine to wash it down with. At Chest Thumper’s suggestion and Aza’s support of rebuilding the ship, she sighs. “It makes… sense to try to get it out of here, and to get all those supplies to town. I mean…” she looks nervously back at the ship as if it could overhear her. “I already slept in it, and I’m not in Davy Jones’ locker yet. If we take the day, we can rebuild it - good enough to sail back, but not much more. I’m a sailor, not a shipwright, ken?” she suggests, capitulating to reason. Her expression suddenly grows dire, her brow creasing darkly. “But that’s it! Once we get it back to town, I don’t want anything to do with that cursed vessel!” ---
Jit wakes in a panic, wildly whipping her head around to scan for more of the undead sailors. When it’s clear they’ve been vanquished, she allows herself to lie back down and have a bit of a quieter panic. She eventually manages to calm down, gulping down lungfuls of fresh sea air. At the initial talks of salvage, she is dumbstruck. “You want to know if that -” she emphasizes, pointing an accusing finger at the ship’s wreckage, “- if that is something we could salvage like some simple driftwood washed up merrily on a sunny white beach? Do you want to be cursed for seven lifetimes?” she demands. “Do want bad luck spilling out your ears till you reach Pharasma?” Jit continues to mutter about bad luck, even as the supplies are uncovered and the others weigh the benefits of trying to jury-rig some use out of the ship hull. “I could give it a shot,” she mutters at some point. “I could also break a mirror or pluck a feather from a wizard’s crow,” she mutters, more quietly. Still, she assesses the damage and sticks with the others for immediate protection as they track down some more ill-fated sailors and ship passengers. As most everyone probably expected, Jit is less than thrilled at the prospect of sleeping inside the derelict ship. “You want me to SLEEP in it?” she cries out instinctively as Pious makes the suggestion first. She casts a horrified look at the Cobalt Eye, and a worried one at the dark and rainy sky. Grumbling and nervous, she reluctantly goes with the others to hole up in the captain’s cabin for the night. She volunteers for first watch, knowing she won’t be able to get to sleep too quickly making camp in a watery grave, going over some of the trinkets found among the ship. ---
Hey everyone, I'm so sorry for disappearing for so long. I've been recovering from an illness and I was unable to post. I'll catch up and post as soon as I am able. :)
Hey all, not feeling so well today, I'll probably need another day to post.
Round 4 Jit’s heart jumps at the burst of thunder below, clutching the rigging with white knuckles. Seeing Aza crest the lip of the ship’s hull, she allows herself some hope for things to turn for the best. When Chest Thumper goes down, though, she starts muttering to herself. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no…” She surveys the deck and looks over the shambling corpses, trying to spot some weakness and an opening, then fires off a little zap of electricity with more of a scared shout than her usual jovial “Zap.” ---
Round 3 Seeing Francis waylayed, Jit’s face is stretched out grotesquely. He mouth widens in a panicked grimace, and she frantically pats herself down looking for something useful. She finds something in her pocket and draws it out - a glass flask with a clear liquid inside. She hurls it toward the zombies bearing down on her furry friend with all her might, smacking the creature right in the face. Eventually a sound catches her ear, and, still quite panicked, she shouts to her allies, “Is Pious below decks? What the hell is he doing down there?” ---
Round 2 After casting her spell and seeing it not stop the creature, Jit closes her eyes tight and waits for the end. She opens them again when she feel a large warmth near her, just in time to see Francis tear the thing apart like wet paper. She beams at him, still trembling a little, and gives him a quick one-armed hug around the wait. “Go get ‘em!” she tells him, patting him on the arm. As she does so, a line of static leaves her hand and starts to run through Francis’ fur. Unfortunately for him, the fur around his wrist and hand start to poof out again. More fortunately, he can feel a bound up energy in his hand, ready to be unleashed on the next corpse foolish enough to get in his way. ---
Round 1 “AaaaaaaaAAAA Jit clings desperately to the rigging as the sailor’s corpse slams into her. She puts her head down to protect it, but still takes a lacerating pounding. “I knew it! I knew it!” she shouts to no one in particular. With the bloated creature next to her, her next scream is silent; it instinctively turns into a spell, blasting the sailor with a personal wall of sound. ---
Jit takes comfort in Francis’ gesture, leaning into the back pats to soothe her pain and calm down. Once on top of the deck, Jit digs through her pack. “Umm… does anyone have a good length of rope we could toss down for Aza and Pious?” she asks, not finding any in her bag. “And don't even think about using some of the Cobalt’s rigging. First of all, it could be weakened by the storm. But more importantly, that kind of bad luck will curse all of us into next Wealday,” she warns. Taking a deep breath and looking around, she grimaces at the carnage. Jit casts a simple spell and four orbs of light pop into existence. She mentally directs them through one of the wrecked hatch openings into the dark belly of the ship below. “Take a look what's below,” she tells the others. “I'm going to get this one down,” she asserts, pointing at the rope-suspended body. Jit heads for the rigging and starts to scramble up it, intent on cutting the late sailor loose. ---
Jit’s heart sinks when she sees the wreck of the Cobalt. It was one thing to lose a ship, but the scattered bodies bode even worse for the chances of finding anyone alive here. “Oh no…” she mumbles as she approaches the nearest fallen sailor. “I knew there would be bad luck...” she mutters, tears welling up in her eyes and her mouth stretching into a frowning grimace. She sits down on the sand and starts to cry, letting out a few sparse sobbing wails as snot and tears run freely from her face. It takes a little while to calm herself down, but she eventually manages to take a deep breath and wipe her coat sleeve across her face. She stands slowly, and turns red-rimmed eyes toward the wreck of the ship. “We should… (sniff) ...see what’s become of the ship. Maybe there are people still in there… (sniff)” She clears her throat and takes a swig from her wine bottle before heading off toward the wreck. “Anyone wanna give me a boost?” ---
Jit is quiet during the council meeting and during the ride on the Winklestar. She seems content to go along with whatever plans are offered up to her (“This may surprise you,” she told Francis sometime the other day, “but I’m not much of a planner.”). She uses her spare time to shop around for suitable camping gear, making extra sure to get a comfortable cot to snooze on. She takes a lot of naps during the travel to Korir island, alternating between sleeping and taking pensive looks at the brewing storm of the coast. She helps set up as well, putting up a tent to stay drier. “I can take first watch!” she volunteers eagerly. She ducks briefly into her tent and pulls out a bottle of wine lightly dusted with sand. “I got provisions for it. It’s bad luck for first watch not to have provisions, you know.” She turns toward the coast - whether she thinks that danger will come from that direction rather than inland is unclear, perhaps even to herself. But the water would best indicate the motions of the storm she thinks, if it decides to act up again. ---
Hi all, Apologies, my next post will be a bit delayed. I was busy tonight preparing for an important meeting at the courthouse tomorrow, and I should be free to post after that! Thanks for your patience.
Throughout the day, Jit is a bit slow moving. She pulls her headband down over the tops of her eyes as she blinks against the sunny sky, holding her head in one hand and her stomach in the other. She can feel her stomach reeling once she steps out into the air. Partly it’s the hangover, but it’s also because of the hurricane still brooding off the coast. She gives weak hellos and tired grimaces to those townsfolk who come and thank the “Kaava Heroes.” She appreciates the bit of glory, but did these people all have to talk so loudly? When the sheriff comes to ask for their presence, Jit winces at her voice but still manages a smirk. “You can call us heroes if you’d like,” she croaks out. “Hell, you can call me whatever you want - but can you do it maybe just a bit quieter? Anyway, I’ll be there.” As Jit finds some lunch to try to settle her stomach, she finds the rumor about the Cobalt Eye to be especially concerning. “We really oughta try and help those sailors out,” she asserts with deep concern. “First of all, I was one, and I hate to see my folks get into trouble like that. Second, it’s bad luck to have sailors run aground,” she warns. “It brings nothing but trouble.” --- After lunch, with time to kill before the evening Town Council meeting, Jit wanders off. With her hangover subsided to merely a low grade headache, she asks around to find Annabella Tullia. “Hey Annabella!” she greets when she finds the priestess. “You wanna go talk to the ape now? He’s been loving the attention, so bring your sketchbook.” With Tullia in tow, Jit takes her to find Francis. Turning to the priestess she says, “Alright, this only lasts a couple minutes, so be ready quick if you got anything to say.” Turning to Francis, she grins. Jit concentrates for a moment before greeting him. “Hi Francis! Hey listen, this lady wants to draw some pictures of you. She wants to make a statue of you - you know, like a rock that looks like you - since you’re such a hero for mauling all those lizards. What do you think?”
Loot stuff: Wand of touch of the sea: Chest Thumper and Jit can activate.
How would y'all like to divvy those up? It looks like we have some another wand, too, and I don't know if any of our other things detect as magical. So I'll roll some Spellcraft checks to identify them if so.
Action 1
Jit turns around and faces the shuddering priestess once she grabs her shoulder, then gives Annabella a shrug. “I dunno. You’re the priestess, I thought maybe there was some ‘inner beauty’ or weird divine reason. Also I figured a statue with a lightning bolt would be pretty exciting. Who did you mean, then?” Jit follows Annabella’s gaze, landing on the sleepy ape. She turns back to the priestess and gives one of her characteristically face-distorting smiles. “Oh, Francis! That makes a lot more sense. He’s great!” she exclaims, although in whisper, back. She takes another glance over to grin at the heroic ape, then continues, “Yeah, I can ask him. Well, not until tomorrow, though. I only get the pleasure of chatting with him a few minutes a day, but this seems like a good use. Also I think he probably wants to get his fur all nice and ready - although I think it’s cute all puffed up,” she adds. --- Action 2 Jit sips her drink pensively as Iradyiel relays the conversation with the weather seer. “Yeah, makes sense that he wouldn’t be able to read that storm. There’s something malicious about it, for sure - my gut is never wrong.” She perks up when hearing about the destroyed village. “A lost colony? Count me in! That’s the sort of thing I thought I would be doing here anyway! You lot are the most exciting thing to happen here in weeks, honestly.” She takes another swig, this time ending in a loud hiccup. Something strikes her, and she adds, “Hey, I just remembered… we should also tell the sheriff about those Aspis thugs that were trying to shut down Oyin, right? Those scum can’t keep getting away with this, you know?’
That's why I went with "pantaloons" during her initial disrobing and was considering trying to throw around the word "smallclothes" in my last post. :P Words are fake, actually.
Action 1 “So after the lizardfolk tore down the shop,” she says, in only a slight exaggeration of the truth, “Francis comes right up and POW!” she shouts, punching a hook into the air and spinning herself, but managing to catch her balance. She finishes the tale, lightning bolts and evil lizardfolk storm cultist and all, before finding somewhere soft to sit when the rush of everything starts to get to her.
Plopping down in a chair, she looks for another drink to retrieve when the priestess approaches her. “Course it’s true!” Jit interrupts at Tullia’s “if what you say is true” (perhaps a little too emphatically, although it’s hard to say if that’s her inner raconteur or just the drink talking), but she pipes down and listens to the rest of her question. Jit blinks a few times, trying to register what Tullia is asking. “Who, Pious?” she asks incredulously. “He was the one who finally defeated that storm lizard lady. ‘Troubled’ seems right,” she adds with a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, if you really want to meet him…” Jit slides out of her seat, taking another quick drink as she makes a beeline through the crowd to Pious. Her face reddening further with drink, she gives the devout, bedraggled man a strained grimace of a smile. “Hey Pious! This priestess lady wants to make a statue of you, I think! I mean, one that looks like you,” she shout-explains over the sound of the packed hall, interrupting whatever conversation he’s having with Artemis (or whoever he’s talking to now - probably that dead god of his, huh?). “You also got pretty beat up out there, so she can cast some curative spells for you. Free of charge, I’m pretty sure! Right?” --- Action 2 Once the hubbub has died down and all the “Kaava heroes” have regrouped, Jit has at least put her pants back on, since dried out by the fire, as well as draping her jacket around her shoulders and her exposed undershirt. “So!” she begins, raising another mug of something and taking a drink before continuing. “What’s next, huh? If I were the sheriff, I’d probably want revenge something fierce on those lizardfolk. I don’t know if there would be any way to find out where they came from - not a good chance of any tracks surviving the storm, you know?” Jit shifts and rolls her shoulders, pausing to take another drink, ending with a small burp. “Also, that storm was something else! Literally something else. I could feel it in my gut, that storm had some power behind it. Like outside power. I don’t know how this town is going to make it long if there are baby Eyes of Abendago being flung at it from someone who’s mad at us.”
Jit sets in on the food and drink, scarfing down breads and soups, downing a full mug of whatever’s around in one go ending with a satisfied sigh and a belch. She also sheds her wet outer clothes, taking off her jacket and even her pantaloons and leaving them in a wet pile near the fire with her pack. With a plate and a refilled mug, in her damp underclothes, she wanders around the hall briefly before running into Lisa Penbury and the priestess Annabella Tullia. “The whole thing was wild!” Jit declares to the printsmith, grinning from ear to ear and letting the excitement of the weather lift her from her exhaustion. She takes a swig from her mug and leans her head down to pick up a piece of chicken from her plate in her teeth and chew on it while she recounts her tale of the storm. She gestures toward Chest Thumper as he moves to the fire, confirming, “Yeah! There was a lizardfolk raid in Islandtown, and this lizardfolk lady who told us that she was out to destroy the town for Gozreh. “There were some angry water elementals, and these weirdly concentrated lightning bolt clusters. Then we found the raiders and the sheriff (she tried to hold em off, but what can you do against a lizard lady who can shoot lightning at you, right?). But we got there just in time! This lizardfolk was chasing me, right, and the others were fighting and knocking lizardfolk off roofs, and, uh, some buildings collapsed…” Jit continues on, listing the details on their fight (perhaps exaggerating the excitement of her own chase, and being vague about the reason the chandlery was destroyed). “...And then that weird guy,” she says, indicating Pious, “gave her a blade to the gut before the sword got struck by lightning! There was something going on with that, I could feel it in my gut - I got a gut for storms - and then an explosion, and when we woke up the storm had calmed down!” By the end of her telling, Jit has finished her second mug and is rambling a bit, but she seems satisfied with the telling. She gives the priestess a tipsy look. “Ms. Tullia, is that enough for the statue, you think? Do you think it’ll be as pretty as you are?” she asks with a wink.
On a scale of 1 to Asmodean how evil would it be to make a lizard man skin hilt...?2.30 unless the lizard man is still alive when you take the skin, then it's a 5.82... Also keep in mind it's on a scale from 1 to 6.66.
Jit does her best to heft a sandbag in her arms, despite the fact that it’s almost her size. She picks one up, quickly realizes that she isn’t strong enough and immediately drops it again with a heaving grunt. She takes in a quick breath and reaches for it again, this time just grabbing one end and dragging it toward the breach in the levee. She finishes putting that one in place, satisfied with her work, before going back for another. As she’s dragging it, she nearly bumps into Aza, and smiles broadly at the girl’s relief. She drops the bag and puts both hands on her hips, bragging, “It takes more than this to get to me! I told you I’m good luck. In a storm like this, three times so!” The gnome picks up the corners of her sandbag and continues dragging, gesturing for Aza to follow. “Are you alright, too? It looks like you’ve got a nasty cut there,” she observes, looking genuinely concerned. Jit again drops her sandbag at her feet and fishes around in her pocket for something. There is a faint sound of clinking glass before she produces a small vial and holds it out with a grin. “Try one of these. It’ll pick you right up!” --- Once the levee is patched, Jit is tired for the heavy lifting (or the attempt at it) but smiling. “It looks like we’ve got everyone we aimed to get,” she observes, doing a quick headcount. “Back to the temple?” ---
Jit giggles and claps her hands gleefully when Francis swats her scaly pursuer away. She beams at the ape, then turns her attention to the locked battle between the two religious fanatics. The next thing she knows, she’s staring blankly at the raining sky, her eyes adjusting from the flash to the dark to now. She sits up too fast, lies back down, then gets up more slowly. “...Whoa,” she says to herself, in shock and awe of the storm’s final, culminating climax. Joining the others, she eyes the damaged levee nervously. She gives Pious a concerned side eye, but doesn’t try to argue with his conclusion. Something powerful directed that explosion - she could feel it in her gut - and for all she knew he could be right. But Jit suspected a more primal force was responsible. “I think we should probably try to plug up this gap,” she suggests, unusually pragmatic and somber. She looks away and down briefly, adding, “I kinda feel bad about that chandlery, but maybe there’s something in there that can help us.” That said, she heads for the rubble and starts rooting through it to look for sandbags or anything else that could help repair the levee. ---
Round 8 With her stronger magic depleted, Jit turns to face the lizardfolk sentry coming up behind her. “Uhh…” she hesitates for a moment, then takes a defensive stance as she calls up another spell. Just as she’s about to complete it, though, the roof of the chandlery rips off in the storm and flies off to the south like an enormous tiled bird. “Whoa…” she whispers with awe, distracted first by the destruction, then by the hateful face of her pursuer. “Um, uh,” she stutters. “Draconicis est scabra lingua mea. Quid tu dicis ad indutias relaxantur?”
Draconic:
My draconic tongue is rusty. What would you say to a truce? Jit nervously looks over and sees Francis disemboweling one of the other reptilian saboteurs, and after her last ditch effort at diplomacy dive-rolls toward her favorite violent ape for safety, albeit clumsily in the wind. ---
Isn't it always a little of both?
Oh dear gods that's terrible. Three attacks, three crit fails. You needed that. Directly behind this, the door to the chandlery is thrown open by Jit. As she fumbles with the lock, the lizardfolk hears her movements, and sniffing the air with his tongue leaps triumphantly to seize her. Standing at one side of the door frame, Jit came within a hairs’ breadth of his talons, but in mid leap the door bursts open and the power of the tumultuous wind and horizontal rain lifts him off his feet with a shriek of fury, tumbles him head over heels across the store, over a pile of sailcloth and into a wooden display cabinet ten feet away, with a shattering impact. Maybe this is a dangerous thing to brag about in a d20 system, but didn't Jit explicitly say she was good luck? :D
Round 7 Jit giggles with delight as the lizardfolk tumbles backward in the wind, her blood pumping hard and loud in her ears even over the crashing storm and the creaking of the chandlery. Her eyes are wild and her smile inhumanly wide. And some people say I’m not lucky! Turning to the open door frame, she clutches the side of it and with an impressive display of sheer stubbornness, she pulls herself through and out of the chaotic house into the chaotic street. She can only see so far in the driving rain, but the flashes of lightning from the storm and from the lizardfolk lady provide enough visibility for her to see Pious engaged in deadly battle with her. Jit, still grinning absurdly, opens her overly large mouth and takes a huge breath of air (and rain). When she breathes out, the lightning-throwing lizardfolk woman alone hears a high pitched scream, even above the howling winds and thunderclaps. ---
Round 6 Jit flinches as the lizardfolk follows her in, throwing her hand over her mouth to suppress an “Eep!” The hairs on the back of her neck bristle as her pursuer crashes through the supplies, ending up unable to find her. She carefully steps back, then reaches out to fling open the front door. As it slams open, unleashing a torrent of wind to rip through the shop, she takes the opportunity to cast a spell. When the lizardfolk looks over, his attention garnered no doubt by the sudden wind tunnel, she grins maniacally and asks, “Need some light?” As she does so, an overwhelming sensory overload of flashing light and color erupts from her hands. ---
Round 5 With her spell doing less to finish off the lizardfolk than to enrage him, Jit grimaces and dashes inside. Not quite what was planned… she thinks as she dashes past the dry goods shelves. Hoping her foe is too caught up in the storm and the chaos outside to pursue her, she leaves the backdoor hanging in the wind and moves up to the front one. Hearing the unmistakable sound of roaring fire, she grins. That Aza girl pushed all the way up here the front way! Sounds like something I would do. Then come the sounds of a physical attack and Jit’s expression quickly becomes worried. She reaches for the door, ready to burst out and surprise the backline. ---
Round 4 Jit grins wicked as the lizardfolk loses his balance. She sends what she hopes is a finishing strike with another “Zap!” before she ducks around the side of the building and tries to open the backdoor she sees. If I can get around, I bet I can get the drop on those other scaly folk. I suppose it depends on how candles are in there. Is it an odd number that’s bad luck, or even…? wonders. ---
Round 3 Jit, seeing the back door to the chandlery, starts to advance toward it, keeping behind the toppled rowboat to avoid the buffeting winds. Spotting the other lizardfolk skulking on the roof, she decides to slow down any more ambushes to help out the sheriff. She opens her mouth and takes a deep breath, and and otherwise silent scream hits the lizardfolk, who hears it ring in their ears. ---
Round 2 Jit recognizes that something is going on past the wrecked boat and the building in front of her with all the shouting, even if she can’t see anything. She moves past the alley, bracing against the north-facing facade of the line of buildings nearby. “More lizards? It’s time I finally got a good look at these scaly bastards!” she shouts over the wind as she moves closer. She reaches the wrecked boat, almost pressed against the wall by the forceful winds, just in time to see a scaly reptilian humanoid tear into human flesh. She makes a face, sticking her tongue out. ---
Hey all, thanks for your patience with my absence for a few days! Actually, you succeeded at those! Barring house rules, a natural 1 is only an automatic failure on attack rolls and saving throws. Your survival skill bonus is so high that you simply can't fail if you're trying. :)
Jit wants to suggest that Madame Oyin stay in her shop: it seems sturdy enough and it offers a great view of the storm. At Aza’s sensible words, though, the gnome shrugs. It was probably safer overall in the temple, and Oyin would at least get to see the impressive storm (terrifying and unnatural as it appeared) first hand.
Jit sees the need to get going quickly, following the sound to see if there are more dangers to be quelled or folks to be rescued. She finds herself nearly bowled over by the winds funneling down the alleys, but she pushes through until the lizardfolk comes into sight, weapon raised. Must be those marauders the others were talking about! she thinks excitedly, not having seen one of these scaly raiders before. Round 1 She moves up as close as she can without exposing herself to the windy alley then shoots a little lightning to test the lizard’s defenses. “Zap!” ---
Hello all, Apologies, but I'm having some trouble finding the time to post this weekend. I just have a few things going on that have occupied my time. I'll hopefully get back to posting withing the next day or two.
Jit breathes a sigh of relief when Madame Olin appears shaken but unharmed. “Poor bastards,” she mutters at the bodies. After the shopkeeper’s telling, Jit frowns thoughtfully. “That wasn’t us who drove them off, lady,” Jit answers, taking Oyin’s offer to move past the barricade. “It sounds like they really had it in for you. How do you know it was those Consortium bastards?” she asks. “They’re scum alright; have they been harassing you lately? Think the sheriff could do anything about it?” Jit turns to her companions, face scrunched up in enmity. “Hey, did you find anything on those guys outside? Anything that looks like Consortium stuff?” She turns her attention back to the shopkeeper, and releases a little sigh to relax some of her anger. Her almost-grotesque smile returns as she tries to return to being helpful. “Anyway, I guess the main thing is that you’re okay! You got real lucky, huh? What’s your secret? Rabbit’s foot? Two-headed copper coin? Garlic in the sock? Oh, and, uh,” Jit interrupts herself, trying to get back on track, “with your door all busted, do you still wanna stay here? We can help you get to the temple if you want. Everyone’s taking shelter there, it seems safe if a little cramped and stinky.” ---
Jit gladly accepts Chest Thumper’s offer, hopping up and climbing on his back. “Thanks! With much more of this, I’m worried I’ll have to start swimming,” she comments with a nervous smile that renders itself into a grimace. She keeps her eyes on the storm as CT carries her, brow furrowing for the first time now that she’s properly getting a look at it. She follows the lightning as it crashes in the distance. I wonder what’s over there… Once at the old woman’s shop, Jit slides off CT’s back with a splash into the water. She follows carefully behind, staying near the entrance to the shop with Francis. “Are they okay? Is someone in there?” she asks, worried for what seems like the first time since the storm started.
Jit raises an eyebrow at Pious’ declaration. “I dunno about saints and sinners and all that, matey, but I think you’re right that there’s something strange going on with this storm. I’ve seen storms, but I’ve never seen one so angry that the damn water itself was trying to kill me!” she exclaims. Letting the others deal with the boy, Jit watches Aza as she watches the storm, following her gaze and admiring the flashing lightning and the huge peals of thunder. She may be a bit trembling, but I know a fellow storm watcher when I see one, she thinks with a grin. Her attention comes back to the conversation as the others start to head off toward Oyin’s shop. She follows along as best as she can, doing her best to wade as quickly as she can despite what is relatively deeper water for her. "Here we come, Oyin!"
Jit shouts to the boy, “Gilthel! Your sister Galinila asked us to find you! We can take you somewhere safe!” Her tiny voice is loud but distracted as Jit keeps her eyes on the spot of water that Pious points out. Watching for movement, she can’t stand to just hold her watch passively. She shoots off another little jolt of electricity toward that direction with a much more scolding “Zap!” than before. ---
Seeing Pious slip under the bloody water takes the wind out of Jit’s sails. Her grin curves down into a nervous grimace, her brow worried. “Uh. I guess it’s time to try again!” Jit shouts over the wind, failing to keep the worry from her voice. “Keep at it! I don’t want to be shark bait!” she shouts as she electrifies Iradyiel’s club again. Is this storm enough to even work the water itself into a frenzy? she thinks as the malicious waves continues to slam into them. ---
Hey all, I was otherwise occupied today and didn't have time to get a post in. I'll catch up tomorrow! Thanks for understanding.
JIt continues to beam at Iradyiel, as well as at the swirling water, her eyes manic at the danger. She jumps up and pokes Iradyiel’s ancestral weapon, causing it to regain its electrical aura. “Your dad seems like a smart guy! Now get ‘em!” she shouts with glee, splashing back down in the water and vibrating with excitement. ---
After her spell finishes off the outsider that Pious stabbed, Jit lets out a low whistle of appreciation as Iradyiel smashes the water creature’s form back into the water. “That was a hit!” she exclaims, beaming at the half-elf. “I wanna see what you can do with this!” she says, explaining herself rubbing her hands together until they crackle with electricity, then poking Iradyiel’s club. The electricity flows from her hands to the weapon, surrounding it and sparking slightly in the rain. ---
Jit tries to shout over the storm to Gilthel, “Don’t worry! We’re coming to help!” as she moves closer, wading through the shallow flooding. She fixes her gaze on the fin swiveled to “face” them all. She scans the surface of the water, looking to see if there’s some kind of treachery or trick going on. She keeps an eye out for any surprise attacks, and when she sees one flaps her arms as if wafting huge quantities of air into her mouth and makes a sound of inhalation that is supernaturally loud. When she exhales, though, it’s completely silent save for the outsider who hears her magical scream. ---
Jit looks over in surprise when Francis pokes her. Recognizing his insistence, she concentrates briefly and with a spell opens up communications between them. “Hi, Francis! I'm sorry, I know you said I was smart, but I'm only smart enough to talk to you for a brief time every day. So I'll try to explain our foolishness quickly,” she apologizes with a grin. “We heard there are some stragglers still out in the storm. An old lady, and someone's little brother. I know you don't like this weather much, but I figure we're lucky that you're coming along. I don't think anyone else is as practiced in helping little brothers, right?” She ends her rhetorical question with a huge face-stretching grin, pushing a wet clump of hair out of her eyes. I'm so glad Francis likes talking to me! He's very practical. Would probably make a decent sailor if he didn't have such distaste for exciting weather.
Jit pushes through the storm, pushing her soaked hair out of her face as needed and trying to keep a keen eye out once they’re all in Islandtown. She pushes through the accumulating water as best she can, but at her height it’s more of a wade than it is for the others. When they eventually find the boy trapped on top of the submerged stall, she breaks out in a grin even as her teeth chatter. “Hoy there! We’ll help!” she shouts at Gilthel. She rushes to the edge of the docks and takes aim at one of the circling fins with a finger. With an excited cry of “Zap!” she fearlessly unleashes a small jolt of electricity at the monstrous fish. ---
Jit shakes her head. “Hoy, Galinila that’s no good. You can’t go running out in that storm!” she exclaims, as if the young elf simply hadn’t thought of the danger yet. She nods along as Iradyiel offers to help, but then rolls her eyes at the words “fair maiden: and gives him a sharp kick in the shins. “This is no time for flirting, you dolt, this is serious! It’s a dangerous time to have your head in the clouds, you know.” Jit immediately shifts tones, beaming at Galinila. “Don’t worry, lass, we’ll find your brother for you! It’s dangerous outside, but I’ve got good storm luck.” As the rest of the plan congeals to make a second venture into Island Town, Jit is eager and ready. She takes the offered bottle of wine from Aza (comically large in her hands). She takes a swig and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. She’s grinning, but looks a bit clueless at Iradyiel’s pun. “Huh. I don’t get it.” The comment appears sincere rather than sarcastic, as Jit tilts her head in mild confusion. “Anyway, I’m ready to go! Gilthel, Oyin, Sheriff - got it!” ---
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