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"If we somehow freed this ship from the ice, where would you go?" Kesu asks, puzzled. "We do not seem to be at sea. Would you not just be in more ice at that point?" After a moment's thought, he adds, "Perhaps more time on that drum would yield some results. It did seem to be having an effect, though it may have just been forcing the undead rowers to apply themselves."
"There was a trapdoor?" Kesu exclaims. "Why were we wasting our time on the drum?" He moves to follow the others through the hitherto-unnoticed trap door, and is alarmed to see the crew is made up of zombies and a ghoul. "The rowers are zombies!" he says in surprise. He continues in a slightly lecturing tone, "They're a common enough type of undead, known for being quite strong and sturdy but incapable of intellect and physically rather slow. It appears that these particular zombies are animated in a way that trades their necromatic resilience to certain weapons for resistance to cold, explaining why they're able to handle the conditions here. How interesting!" On a bit of a roll now, he points at the figure moving toward them and continues in his pedantic tone, "The masked one is a ghoul, an intelligent undead that rises from wretched souls that resorted to cannibalism in life. They bear the chill of the grave which can paralyze victims with a touch and are known for spreading a rotting disease. Rather nasty."
"Am I moving the ship by drumming?" Kesu asks his fellow Pathfinders, "Does anyone feel any movement? Or am I waking some fell beast that sleeps below?" His curiosity overcomes him and he continues to play, though his rhythm is clumsy this time. With a shrug, he steps aside, gesturing for Narayan to give it a try.
"Astonishing indeed, Korez," Kesuraman remarks, studying the cave and the ship intently. "I do believe you're right, Narayan. I've got no training in such things, but I wonder..." He beats out a rhythmic tattoo on the taut drumhead, imagining rowers somehow breaking the ship free from the ice and speeding along.
"Uff, yes, we won," Kesuraman replies to Narayan, reeling a bit from the mighty clap on his slender shoulder. "I've no need of the potions you found," he says to Kasumi, "I make my own." He thinks a moment, wondering perhaps if he's been overly blunt before adding, "Er, thank you." Glancing around at the wreckage of the warehouse, he adds, "Perhaps, we make our back to Skelg's manor, to see if the lantern can once again open the doorway in the tapestry?"
Satisfied that the foe is dealt with, Kesu notes that Narayan is lying on the floor unconscious. The curious wayang rushes over to see how the nagaji's scaled skin has reacted to the damage of combat. Hmm, interesting! The scales demonstrate partial plasticity in response to crushing blows, suggesting a keratinoid structure as I speculated! And the slightly fibrous separation where they've been cut would tend to confirm that...Hmm, that's a lot of blood. I wonder if it's cold like that of a reptile? After a time, he realizes he should do something to address the damage to his companion - and he'll get to watch the scales rebuild as Narayan is healed! He taps the fallen fighter several times with Narayan's healing wand, then turns to watch Kasumi attempting to identify the lantern.
Kesu's face takes on a thoughtful cast for a moment, as he considers the fascinating effect the lantern seems to be having on his physiology. With a shrug, he shakes off the chilling effect and says, "Well, that was interesting." He notes that Bengeirr is still on fire, and decides to feed the flames.
Kesuraman pulls a small flask off the bandolier on his chest and pounds it against his other hand, giving it a brisk shake before throwing it at the guard in the green jacket. As the bomb explodes directly on the target's head, Kesu flinches, muttering, "How can it always surprise me how loud those are?" He shakes his head to clear it, then pulls out a flask of alchemist's fire.
After a long spell of thoughtful quiet, Kesuraman replies to Narayan's suggestion, "I am not much of a swimmer, but I have an extract I can drink to let me swim like a monkey and climb like a fish...or something like that. I'm sorry to say, I haven't worked out how to make it work on others yet. But I'm fine with swimming in."
"Very well, it appears we need to locate this brute, Bengeirr, and have a discussion with him," Kesuraman observes. "Perhaps there is some sort of directory of the inhabitants of Absalom that we could reference? Or perhaps we could ask around...though that would mean talking to people, a lot of people. Anyone particularly interested in or good at doing that?"
Kesuraman attempts to follow the servant's tale, though it's clear from the way his eyes dart back and forth at each new wrinkle in it that he's chasing possibilities in his mind. An enchanted lantern? I'm curious, is it intended to cause a curse-wait! It shone on a tapestry? I should like to see it, perhaps it is of sufficient age to provide some valuable historic-what's that? A doorway appeared within it? And the thieves ran? How could they not wish to study this doorway? This story makes no sense! "Just a moment," Kes says, his quiet voice showing just a touch of impatience, "this doorway, is it still open? May I see the tapestry? And what does this lantern do? Did the thieves take the lantern when they fled? This is all most peculiar, so many threads to untangle!"
Kesuraman considers Kasumi's request a moment, then says, "Why yes, there are any number of alchemical dessicants that would dry out your shoes more rapidly than ambient conditions would allow. On a more prosaic note, I have heard one can place a damp item in a sack of rice and place it in an oven, but I am skeptical....oh, you mean now? No, I've got nothing."
At Narayan's word of assent, and promise not to crush him, Kesuraman nods and extends two long fingers, running them along the nagaji's scales and making a series of quiet observations to no one in particular, "Fascinating, most fascinating! I wonder if they have a keratinoid structure? Is their purpose to reduce friction as in true serpents, or defensive, like the scales of a dragon?" Glancing upwards at the snake-man's face, he observes, "A significant supraocular ridge, as pronounced as that of a naga -" He interrupts himself as a question occurs to him, and he asks Narayan, "Do you molt? I mean, do you shed your skin as a single piece?" In response to Orrin's questions, Kesuraman says, his voice still quite faint, "I have heard nothing about the assignment other than the request to come to this place. But I, too, am a student of alchemy, though I use it rather differently. I use the energy produced by the reactions to generate explosions - which are rather startlingly loud, but quite effective when they occur on top of someone who wishes to do me harm." Digesting Orrin's explanation of his studies a moment, the wayang replies, "Fourteen hours you say? Most intriguing! I have never attempted to quantify the capacity of my lungs in that fashion, but I am sure the duration of your residence time under water would exceed mine by orders of magnitude."
A short, reed-thin form sits at the small table, eyes intently studying the various artifacts around the room. The figure is visible as little more than a shadow against the darkwood table, his dark grey skin blending into the shadows in the room. He wears an odd armored coat, small discs of steel and miniature plates of leather and horn sewn onto it piecemeal, and a closer look reveals that his skin is similarly scattered with odd designs. White dots on his dark skin form spirals, jagged zigzags, and other odd geometric patterns, though these patterns are marred in places by scar tissue. One particularly large patch of scar, a lighter grey than the surrounding skin, obliterates all but the edges of an intricate dot-pattern on the small person’s left cheek. It takes him quite a while to recognize that others have joined him in the room, though once he does, his attention is drawn to Narayan's scaled skin. "You are a nagaji, are you not? I have not met one of your kind before. Fascinating!" He shifts a belt that runs diagonally across his scrawny chest, its burden of small bottles, flasks and vials shifting and rattling slightly as he does so. His curiosity getting the better of him, he extends a long-slender finger as if to poke at the muscular arm before him, then stops himself before saying, in a quiet voice, "I am Kesuraman." He looks at his extended hand as if thinking hard about what to do with it, then extends it in greeting to Narayan.
It's not hard to recognize, actually. It's a well-documented phenomenon, wherein the constriction of blood vessels in the extremities causes a dark discoloration, lack of sensation or even a feeling of intense heat, which can eventually lead to complete loss of... Oh, I see, it's a joke. Right? It's a joke? I really must study these things more carefully.
If Table I of this game is going to get PbP Gameday 3 credit and a shot at a boon, we need to finish by February 1 - this Sunday! And reporting has to be done by February 3. Let's get to it, folks! Just 'cuz Table II can't scrape together enough good fortune to win a boon doesn't me the superior life forms at Table 1 can't!
"You need a lesson in math, elf," Kesuraman says bluntly, "there are six of us to two of you. Put another way, we outnumber you by a factor of three. So tell us about this Devil's Claw, and we'll let you go." As he speaks, he slips a slender vial off his belt, pulls the cork out of it and drinks it down. His already rapid movements become almost impossibly fast, and his hands are almost a blur as he shrugs his crossbow off his shoulder and prepares to load it.
Kesuraman's eyes widen as he nods along with Amelia's words, "This is incredible, I agree! It's very tempting to close that secret door and hole up here to study these documents myself..." Crossing the room, he picks up the gem and wonders aloud, "And what could this be? From its glow, I'd think it's magical. Amelia, can you study it a moment and see what it might be?" As he holds it up for the wizard to study, he muses, "So, if this is as far as we go here, where do we go next? To find the grave of Arkath the stonemason, perhaps?"
Kesuraman takes a quick look at each of the alcoves, asking aloud, "Who in their right mind aspires to be the god of spoiled food and wastefulness? Next we'll need a god of missing socks and hats set askew..." Thinking about the underlined words on the Wall of Names, he says, "So it's pretty clear we need to pay attention to Mellag - she's rot. And Silmor for blades. Which one is 'silence and serenity,' I wonder? It's not the fish one, or sacrifice - or the rotten food. So that leaves the god of sixteen poses or the god of drugs that you smoke." Glancing at his fellow Pathfinders, he asks, "Any guesses?" As they consider the possibilities, he searches the alcoves of Silmor and Mellag.
Kesuraman ponders the wall before them, paying particular attention to the three names given them by Adolphus.
After some thought, he says, "If I'm recalling correctly, which I believe I am, the underlined portions of each inscribed epitaph refer to aspirants that failed the test of the Starstone. Rather than belonging on this wall, the fallen aspirants are remembered in the Shrine of the Failed, a shrine next to the cathedral of the Starstone, in the center of the city." He turns his thoughtful gaze to the others, surprised at having spoken so much, and says, "Unless there's more to uncover here, I believe we should visit the Shrine of the Failed."
Kesuraman's long, slender fingers run along the worn leather belt he carries slung across his chest, looking like a large, dark spider hunting for something. The fingers close on a blackened ceramic flask, which he pops open and adds something to. Resealing the lid, Kesuraman gives it a shake, then tosses it at one of the fire beetles. It hits the beetle with a crashing explosion, and Kesuraman seems genuinely shocked at the amount of noise he's just made, his eyes widening and his hand covering his mouth in surprise.
Kesuraman admires the ease with which Laetshi approaches the Pharasman priest, a total stranger, and asks about the sealed tomb. If it were in a book I could find the information easily... When Asterion confronts the priest and rather forcefully requests assistance, Kesuraman holds his breath, unsure how the Pharasman will react. |
