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I'm really sorry, guys - I've had a bunch of stuff pick up on me lately, and I don't think I have the mental capacity to devote to this game any more. It's really a wrench; I was excited about it, but it's unfortunately not going to work out. I hope the rest of you have great success, though! Jon, would you like me to write myself out or will you handle it?
Kierana shakes her head at Aemon's comment. What matters it why they began the altercation? Drink, demons, dastardly schemes - what matters is that they began it. And we finished it, thanks be to the Savored Sting. But I am in accord - let us go to the Puddles. And quickly. Ahto is correct; this will certainly make subterfuge more difficult, as if the Nymph yesterday hadn't done enough on that account already.
Sorry, been a hell of a couple of days for me. Well, a hell of a month, really, but the last couple of days especially. New hit point try: And average for me as well! I should have my updated character sheet done by Friday - sorry for the holdup. I'm probably going to redo my sheet; I've worked out a more friendly format since I did this one, and reconstructing it is going to make things way easier for me.
Seeing Zeph and Ahto struggling through their wounds, Kierana reaches out to each with a gentle caress, intoning her healing incantations.
There. Now there shall be no trail to follow.
Like hell we do! Kierana shouts in response to Korihor. These bastards started it - they'll get what's coming! Seeing the dire straits Ahto is in, she ducks toward him, bringing her sword down on the man threatening him with righteous fury.
Excellent. As if we didn't have enough trouble already. Kierana rushed forward to join the others in the midst of the melee, drawing her long curved sword with a rasp.
Acharn flies forward along with Kierana, taking up position opposite Zephyrion and jabbing forward with her stinger.
I lost initiative, so I've been waiting on my turn.
Eran, in the Puddles. Thank you. At Sven's concern over Ahto, Kierana turns her attention to the match, hoping Ahto doesn't manage to get too roughed up. After all, there was more investigation that needed doing today, and the day was young. Perhaps more assassins were headed their way, too. In the commotion, Kierana heads over to confer with the others. We're headed to the Puddles next, to look for a man called Eran. It sounds as if he's one of the men that tried to set Johnny on our trail, and possibly one of the men that attacked us at the Nymph last night as well.
Of course you aren't involved, she responds soothingly. And who could fault a man for simply doing his job? One more thing, though - you say one of your men was going to speak with him. Would you mind sending us his way? I'd like to speak with him as well, see if perhaps he is privy to our concerns and could give us some more information. Or describe him, perhaps, and I'll consider if he could be the one Johnny spoke with.
Thank you ever so much for your truthfulness, good sir. Fare you well now, and may your foes always receive their due. With a congenial bow, Kierana rises and hands another coin to the bartender, glancing coyly backward over her shoulder. Let me buy the rest of his drinks; gambling can be thirsty work.
You don't know how much I wish I could be clear, Kierana responds with a huff. But clarity is what we're seeking...that's why we're here. And it seems I'm not the only one holding back - I think you're more familiar with Mr. Sixfingers than you'd have me believe. She glances around to her companions, then begins to speak in a low voice. But I do believe you wish to help. Let's see if you can. We were attacked last night by a band of thugs, and again this morning, for reasons we don't fully understand - that's what we're trying to find out. There was one among our number that seemed to have some understanding, but he was even more tight-lipped than you or I concerning what he may have known. So we went to Johnny; his business is knowledge, after all. And when we went to Johnny, he said that someone had tried to engage him to find out more about us, and he'd been told to send the information along to someone by your name at this place. So now you're the next stepping stone along our path. What is it you're holding back about Mr. Sixfingers, and what sort of information were you expecting to receive here?
Bluff DC12: She's trying her hardest to avoid mentioning precisely who among them is the center of all the attention, attempting to keep focus on the group as a whole rather than individuals.
Oh, certainly I accuse you of no ill will or disreputable activities, good sir. I understand that even the most perceptive can be caught in happenings bigger than they realize, and after all, everyone must put food on the table. She gestures to the bread, cheese, and ale in front of him. I was given your name by an associate of ours, an information broker who had been tasked with retrieving some sensitive information that aligned with the interests of my friends and I. He said his employer requested that he send that information to your care, here at the Crow's Nest. The name Johnny Sixfingers sound familiar? She watches intently for any sort of reaction the name may draw out.
Kierana lets out a well-practiced girlish giggle at Sven's compliment. You're too kind, she responds coyly. It was curiosity that brought us, to tell you the truth. Heard your name connected to some shared business of ours, and we were wondering about you, so we wanted to come find out what we could. And I must say, I'm liking what I'm finding out so far. She slips her hand into his elbow, attempting to lay on her charm. Clearly you're a fine gambler, but I have to wonder - is betting the only thing you use that luck for? Or is there another profession you turn your good fortune toward?
Well, aren't all the best moments in life a little of both? Kierana replies with a light laugh and a hand on his arm. I'm afraid, though, it's business, at least on my part. As I said, I had him recommended as a potential client; I simply wished to get his measure without the stresses of my workplace weighing on him. The others joined me on my way here; we found each other's company diverting, and they had had your establishment recommended as well. Well, it's not entirely false... she thinks to herself, and has to take a sip of her drink to keep from laughing.
Kierana merely chuckles softly, smirking.
Of course, sir. Thank you for your aid, and for the meal. May your foes always receive their due, she finishes with a Calistrian benediction. When he departs, she turns to the others. So, what do you think? Someone join in the games, perhaps? Challenge him to a match and, shall we say, ensure he receives a taste of victory? It may help to loosen his tongue.
Kierana lets Korihor have a chance to approach the bar, electing instead to take a seat at a corner table and scan the crowd. Curiosity, for my part, Kierana responds to his query with a smile when he approaches. It's amusing to see the sights from time to time, take in new faces, as you said. I'll have a glass of watered wine for now, and some bread and cheese if it's not too much trouble. She opens her hand to reveal five gold measures, far more than the small meal costs. Speaking of faces, there was one I had hoped you could point out. A friend of a friend - and apparently has the potential to become a lucrative client of mine, from what I'm told. I was hoping to catch sight of him today, get the measure of him. Goes by the name of Sven?
Thank you. We certainly will pass along what we can. And again, we thank you. Kierana drops into a polite half-curtsy and makes her exit, rejoining Acharn just outside with a pat on the chitinous thorax.
Come now, everyone. There's no reason to part ways anything but amicably. Unless one of you makes a reason... Kierana rises, subtly shifting between Johnny and Pyrrha. We have the Crow's Nest to look into, and Sven to ask after. Now, if you'll excuse us, Johnny, we thank you for your help. And remember me when next you make your way to the Court, so I can thank you properly, she finishes with a coy wink.
Considering I currently have 6 gold to my name, 120 is nice. :P
Well, I tried. ;) Thirty's fine, although I don't personally have much to contribute. I'm guessing it'll come out of our take from the bandits' stuff.
Washington.
Happy New Year, indeed! (Well, it's still 25 minutes early for me, but it works.) I've already made my counter-offer, so we'll see if it gets accepted. ;)
Might I make another offer? Kierana leans in ever-so-slightly toward Johnny. Payment in kind, as it were. I'm in service to the Savored Sting at the Pleasure Court. You seem like a man who knows what he wants, and I happen to be in the business of catering to my customers'...wants. Subtly, her hand travels toward his knee, stopping just short. Or, if your taste is for other fruit...well, I know which trees to shake. I can connect you with whatever savor you may wish to indulge. And if you could see fit to meet us at our price, I could make quite certain it would be worth your while. Twenty measures, and a night that will linger long in your memory. We both get what we want.
Oh, perfect, I was about to look for that myself. I knew Inner Sea World Guide had brought it up.
Kierana subtly steps in front of Korihor, her demeanor cool but forceful. Ah, so it's you we may have to thank for the friends we've made the past couple of days. Unfortunate - you seemed like such an upstanding gentleman. But my Lady does have a policy about letting such things go...and if your employer were to find out you're letting slip details of your work to every associate who walks through your door... She idly toys with the intricately carved wasp symbol hanging from her neck, then laughs. But of course, you'd never do such a thing - send thugs out against a harmless woman? Certainly not! In fact, you being such a noble sort, I'd imagine you'd even go so far as to share more about her assailants. Merely business, of course - I'd never let such fine work go unpaid. She slips a gold coin onto the table and pushes it toward Johnny. Who was the man who hired you; what did he look like, who did he work for? What did they say would identify her? Did they mention why they wanted her?
I'd leap straight into the Rough Beast's prison itself if I thought it'd get us information about what the hell is going on. I'm in. Kierana rises from her chair; suddenly she leans over slightly and catches herself on Acharn's back, Acharn protesting with an annoyed buzz. Let's go; time's wasting.
At the quip, Kierana smirks. Dear, believe me: when he's in his devotions, there's more than just six fingers involved. With a wink, she turns back to Pyrrha. I'm of a mind with you. Leaving those bastards to run gets beneath my skin, but we have little and less to go on for pursuing them, unless you have some source of information I don't. Perhaps being seen in Absalom again will draw them out; but otherwise, I see little other recourse than trusting Twist's information, limited though it may have been.
Merry Christmas, everyone! Or your winter holiday/non-holiday of choice; hope today's a good day regardless of what you're celebrating. :D
I'm on late night most every night - yay working. :p
As I said, it's common for your kind of innate ability to be passed down in families. I was merely curious; you seem to be a key piece in this puzzle, so I would understand as much as I can. Kierana leans back in her chair, pensively and only a tiny bit unsteadily. There are other stories about the source of those storms, you know. It does seem curious that your grandmother, born in the shadow of a storm that supposedly served as a god's death shroud, developed magical talent; and now you, possibly the inheritor of her talent, are being suddenly pursued by kidnappers while a disciple of that same purportedly deceased god gains divine powers that grow stronger by the day? As Aemon said, likely a coincidence, and not relevant to our current predicament at all, but it is indeed curious. At Pyrrha's interjection, Kierana turns to Aemon. She's right - time is pressing onward, and we need more to go forward with. Were you successful in finding out anything more about the men who attacked us?
Indeed. Kierana's cup joins Aemon's in waiting expectantly for a refill. Korihor...are you the first in your family to show signs of magic? They say this sort of power runs through the blood.
4606...wasn't that the year he disappeared? The Last Azlanti, I mean. If the stories are true, there were storms for weeks, on the cusp of his predicted return.
Many others wish the same - or at least, the drop in my business as of late would suggest so. For some reason, it's always chastity these fanatics advocate first. Kierana smiles, though there's a slightly frustrated look behind it. Aroden's death hit many hard - being as he was one of humanity's own, I suppose. But other humans have ascended to godhood, and more recently, too. I wonder why it is that Cayden Cailean or Irori don't inspire the same fervor you see from the former Arodenites?
Kierana scoffs at Korihor's reply. Your parents were narrow-minded fools. There's nothing inherently evil about magic, any more than a gift for cooking or the ability to sing; else, why would the benevolent gods grant their most devout followers magical ability? Good and evil lie in your choices, not the things you can't control. If you set your axe carefully and securely on a shelf and an earthquake throws it onto someone, are you then a murderer? Of course not; no one would claim you were. But set it precariously above a walking path and more culpability lies with you - that's why you must tame your power. Do you tame a beast of burden by locking it in a stall and neglecting it? No, neglect will only make it wilder, more dangerous. Neither do you simply hop on its back, cling tight, and hope for the best. You break it to a harness, set it to training exercises, teach it to carry or pull. That's what you have to do - harness your power, make it bend to your will. Else it will only continue to grow wilder and more dangerous.
Kierana drains her drink in one go as well, setting the glass down with a slight flourish. Her serious manner doesn't go away, but she does seem to relax some, if only slightly. It's clear you have some sort of power in you, if such strange things keep happening around you. Have you ever tried to consciously make use of it? Even just to do something simple? She picks up the glass again and chants a few words, her syllables only slightly thickened by the drink. An intricate swirling pattern of light emerges on the glass's walls, throwing new shadows around the room. Even something as simple as making an object light up. Perhaps if you sought to understand this power more, it wouldn't cause such accidents.
Do you not understand we are in potentially mortal danger? We need our wits about us...oh, f@~$ it. A glass for me too. I may as well drink and be merry, if I'll be saddled with inebriated fools in the confrontations to come regardless.
Kierana merely watches as her companions argue, one hand resting on Acharn's thorax. This bickering accomplishes nothing...but I admit, I mislike dancing on marionette strings as much as the others, and it appears our suspected puppet master dances in motley beside us, with his tongue tied as it is. Aemon seems to think the sword and missive will give some clues; I hope he's correct, though it all seems fairly nondescript to me. Even the slightest bit of information to go on would be better than this aimless waiting. Let him be, she finally speaks out at his obvious distress. Clearly something holds his tongue; what profit is there in wearing on him further or rendering him insensate? We need all the allies we can get - there's no sense in wringing him for information so hard he becomes useless to us.
Indeed, Kierana agrees with Zeph. The Greycloaks were the ones harassing Korihor in the first place, when we met yesterday. As you've said yourself, we're not exactly their favorite people right now. They'd arrest us on sight and ask questions later, especially if they recognized Korihor as being both at the Nymph and at the protest.
As for reason, Pyrrha, why we should trust Twist and look into the Disciple - well, as he said, his information is the best lead we have right now. I certainly can't recall anything remarkable about the assailants at the farm, and as for dwarves with guns, it's Absalom. A vampire-kin could be walking around with an imp growing out of his shoulder and wings and tentacles growing from his back and no one would bat an eye. Kierana leans closer to Pyrrha and whispers. I mislike trusting him as much as you do. If we had any other options, believe me, I'd take them. But at least he seems to know something, even if he's not keen on sharing precisely what that is. And we're stuck now, regardless - odds are the assassins are going to keep coming whether we learn anything else or not. At least the others here are in the same frying pan as you.
It's a question of power, no doubt. They want it, and somehow you're their key to getting it. I just wish I had the slightest idea of who they are... Kierana throws a bemused smile toward Aemon. It seems your answers have only begotten more questions, good scholar - as all the best answers do. Still, you've proven knowledgeable so far, Master Aemon. Any chance you wish to continue investigating the matter with us? She scans her companions, taking in the hand Twist presses to his bloody side, the cut still visible across Zeph's cheek, the bruises mottling her own skin. I give my solemn vow, on pain of my Lady's pursuit - it won't be dull.
If that's the case - that that blind man is the Disciple's servitor now - then this Disciple's got to be quite compelling. Unless, as you commented, Aemon, it's nothing more than an old man grasping at straws, trying to keep his old hopes alive. Indeed, I've assumed much the same about the Disciple's followers from the start - men pining after their glory days of yore, and hungry for anyone who offers a chance at humanity's former splendor. It's not so different from what I do, after all, being paid to make men believe what they want to believe. But this about the Disciple's magics showing no trace of arcane influence - it intrigues me. I'd assumed much the same as your esteemed associates, Aemon, that this was some sort of trickery like you see from the Razmirans. It would even have provided some excuse for Korihor's kidnapping - assuming the Disciple was behind it, which we don't yet know. He could have been looking for a way to gain the innate gifts she's got, to aid in his deception, or a way to siphon the magical gift from her to increase his own power. But if he truly draws his miracles from some sort of divine power...
Kierana responds with a small bow. We thank you for your hospitality, Aemon. May all your deeds be repaid as they deserve. Observes the niceties with grace...he's one I could get to know. I tend to get saddled with the less refined ones so often, as the newest at the Salon... She tugs uncomfortably at the high collar of her borrowed dress, then gravitates toward one of the cluttered shelves. Any knowledge you may be able to share would be more than we have at the moment, and Twist gives a good impression of your skills. Certainly your knick-knacks display a certain level of worldliness. You must have done a fair deal of traveling, to amass such a curious collection.
Kierana lets out a short bark of a laugh. Darling, no one would like the answer to that question more than us. She gives the small apartment a cursory glance. Curiosities for sure...and none of it looks valuable at all. I wonder what their significance is...perhaps sentimental. With a small sigh, she continues. We were all at that dust-up with the Disciple's followers yesterday. Korihor was being handled roughly and unjustly by the guard, so we talked her way out of it. We went to the Naughty Nymph for refreshment, and while we were there we met Twist. Shortly after that, two men created a distraction and grabbed the girl. We gave chase and got a bit more than we bargained for, so Zephyrion offered his home as a place to recover. Our exit wasn't precisely subtle, as you've gathered, and they tracked us there and tried to take Korihor again, which left us in the state we're in now. The tiefling says it's something to do with some magic she possesses, and some intricate tattoo on her back, but if she does have some inborn magic, we've seen no signs of it besides the tattoo, which, while exquisite, suggests nothing more than a fine artist doing the work. I've just had a thought, though - what if the guards were working with the ones who came after us last night and today? Trying to detain her for the same person? You said yourself, Korihor, they had no reason to do it apart from supposedly seeing you cast a single spell, which you denied. She lets out another frustrated huff. That's all we know, unless someone wants to fill in anything I've missed.
Kierana ducks inside as well, debating internally for a moment before waving Acharn in behind her. Sorry, I hope you don't mind. She'll be no trouble. Unless it turns out I need her to be. So you're the scholar, then? Graham, was it?
Ohai! :D I thought that's what Jon might have been alluding to.
I agree. At least visiting this Graham is something to go off of.
Good thinking. Or any religious symbols, perhaps, or symbols of another organization?
Could have, should have, didn't want - all immaterial. Kierana includes everyone in her stern gaze this time. The question is, what do we do about it now? It's too bad we didn't manage to capture any alive - a chance at interrogation would have been beneficial. But I suppose our concerns at the moment were far more pressing. Looking around, her gaze falls on Zeph and Ahto, both nursing grievous injuries. She extends a hand to each of them, chanting invocations.
Now, if no one else is in grievous danger, let's finish searching the dead and head back into Absalom. It may be the valuables they carry will allow us to buy a few more magical curatives to keep on hand. My own magics are still limited.
Come, now - I like a good shouting match as much as anyone, but this bickering does us no good. And when I'm the voice of reason, something's gone seriously wrong. Kierana begins to aid Korihor in tending to everyone's wounds. Now, I'll tend to the most seriously injured with magic. Pyrrha, a healer's kit wouldn't go amiss, if any of them happens to be carrying one. Or any magical curatives they may have been carrying. Korihor, I think the point everyone's trying to make is, we're a part of this now - we know of them. If they have any intention of keeping their plan a secret, they have to remove us from the picture, whether we intend our active involvement to continue or not. Your intention to try and keep us out of harm's way is noble, but ultimately without purpose. If you wish to keep us safe, then bring all your abilities to bear to make it so. The tiefling's spoken of your magic, and it's plain you fear it, but it's how you can best protect us, rather than running away. Can you get that through your obstinate skull?
As her foe drops, Kierana steps to the next, motioning Acharn to join her. Together, they back the man into an alcove, attacking fiercely.
Kierana takes another swing at her assailant, and is rewarded with the satisfying sound of her sword striking bone. Acharn, there! she shouts, pointing to the thug harassing Korihor.
Acharn turns to face Korihor and jabs at the thug between them.
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