Lelache Lebedev's page

Lelache tunes out the discussion on positive energy, and runs her fingers slowly over the engraved heroes of a time long past.

"So that skeleton was, presumably, one of the Red Shrikes. Stands to reason, right? There can't be that many other people buried in here."

She leans to one side, peeking past the door to see if anything dangerous-looking was in the crypt beyond. "If anything, the fact that a bunch of Iomedaean heroes are currently undead is prooobably an indicator that nothing good is happening in here."

Lelache grimaces as the nasty bug pops in to place. Assuming she can actually reach it, she jabs at it with her rapier, not even bothering with a Strike. "Gross."

Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 P

Watching Gharol get mauled by the skeleton, illuminated by flickering fire light, Lelache draws her rapier and stands still in the corner, biting her lip in worry. Oh, training was all well and good - but this was definitely not a normal situation to be in. Generally speaking, waking up in a weird crypt and getting attacked by skeletons was not the ideal start to a day.

She readies a strike, turning the tip of her rapier downward.

Move action to draw rapier. Readying Shattering Glass Strike as a standard, with the activation trigger being the skeleton stepping in to her range since she's currently cut off by Gharol, Zachariah, and probably a new skeleton.

Lelache scampers over the low coffins while giving the blazing skeletons as much a berth as she can, coming to the wall. She can see the other skeleton attacking Gharol, but can't quite find a way to attack.

Advance to the wall beside Zachariah and that's it.

Untrained: Knowledge: History: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Lelache purses her lips as she thinks, following the sounds of her companions' voices. "Good point, Gharol." She stands a safe distance away, on the off chance there's a trap on the door.

Excited to see if a 10 gets anything. Or 11? I forget how UT skills max out...

Lelache is just beginning to get worried about this whole stone lid situation, when abruptly - well, not light, but a different shade of darkness came in to view. The scraping of the stone was loud as hell, making her wince, but she was soon able to sit straight up as the lid gets moved enough to squeeze out of. Lelache falls to the floor with an unceremonious grunt, pulling herself back up. She looks around and... well, sees nothing. "Thank you," she says to Gharol though she can't see him. She isn't even particularly sure who it was that moved it, but considering the average strength of the other companions...

"Not I. I certainly didn't think we'd need tindertwigs or anything like that..." She sighs, leaning against the heavy coffin. She runs her fingers over the rims, frowning. "You know, I read an Ailson Kindler story about getting kidnapped by village cannibals once. I wonder if that's the situation we're in? Stuck in some basement somewhere..."

This is... definitely not the bed she went to sleep in. Lelache stares at the grey stone before her, blinking in confusion. She presses her hand against it, trying to push on it gently - no dice. So she tries shoving...

Strength: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
She huffs in annoyance, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness - not that there's much to see. She raps on the lid as well. "Hey! Is anyone out there? Hello?

Can we hear each other?

Lelache took care to secure the key in her bag before sitting down beside the copper art fixture. She was intrigued by it, inspecting it closely as she fastidiously ate her stew.

But, as with all food, eventually it ran out. She stood up, having not touched any drink, and not having spent much time chatting with the rest of the group - she was concerned they wouldn't really be in to her conversation topics, after all, and they were just classmates.

She still bids the others good night as they depart for their rooms, giving a small smile to Dmitri as he stuffs his nose in a book. "Good night you two," she says as she sidles between them to head to their quarters. "Don't be up too late, we've got a day ahead of us."

Lelache just shoots the innkeeper a thumbs up while she looks the other way. She's scoping out The Singing Copper's interior, seeing if there's anything of note around the place. She has to lean to the side to look around her comrades.

Lelache nodded her assent, glancing over the material list she'd been given to ensure the Rampart got what it needed. "Sounds like a plan," she says lowly, a flat affect to her voice. "It's got a cute name too. Real folksy."

Lelache is, despite her best efforts, a born introvert. It's just so easy to stay withdrawn and just focus on the craft - glass is easy to work with, malleable and fascinating to work with. Sometimes she'd be entrusted with repairing windows whenever a training incident caused damage to the Cornerstone structure, which she appreciated - it felt nice to give back to the school she'd learned so much from. Considering how rarely she was able to actually conduct her martial studies - during strange astrological events, sunrise, sunset, et cetera - it was no surprise that she'd been held at the school for as long as she has.

The magically-inclined teachers and the more martial instructors really had to put their heads together to figure out how to harness whatever mysterious inner spark Lelache used to empower her abilities. She simply didn't have the requisite physicality to master a more hardcore discipline like Thrashing Dragon or Piercing Thunder - instead, she could evoke some inner energy, her ki, to impart her will upon the world. Whether it be speeding her own reactions or dulling another's with Riven Hourglass, or crafting illusory doubles with Shattered Mirror, or - and this was often the most intriguing to her trainers - even her ability to render the incorporeal solid through Veiled Moon, something she once was only able to do during heavy Fog nights but now has honed in to the beginnings of true mastery of the art.

Among her fellow classmates, Lelache is certainly an odd one - ill at ease when it comes to social situations, she endeavors to be friendly but simply comes off as, well, a weirdo. She'd like more associates, but her funky personality and the fact that she's rarely seen to actually be training means that there's probably a fair bit of ostracism going on. She keeps trucking though, dreaming of her future after graduation, and what she might do. Maybe move back to Canterwall.

We are *not* taking a campaign trait for this since we're not Lastwallers, right? Or are we.

1d100 ⇒ 96

Alias made for Lelache. Just slapping the last bits together.

Repeating that I'm game for Tyrant's Grasp, but would excitedly play any AP. ...except Serpent's Skull, but, you know.