Repositioning for a clearer shot, and reloading with another paper cartridge, Lirianne fires on the larger monster.
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"I'd stay down, were I you," she advises the creature , stepping aside as she glances meaningfully back at the mounted half-elf.
Lirianne reloads her pistol, then fires another targeted shot at Pahg, this time aiming for the knee.
"I'd stay down, were I you," she advises the creature.
Lirianne reels back from the hit , but reloads her pistol with a paper cartridge and fires a shot specifically at the head, Pahg.
Lirianne moves forward , drawing her pistol. Leveling it at the two-headed ogre, she waits to see if he makes a move toward her or the other pathfinders.
Uh-uh-uh, no closer or you'll get a bullet between the eyes. Which pair of eyes I'm not too fussed about. [dice=Demorialize]1d20+10[/dice]
"Sooner we get to the ruins, the better, I'd reckon, Lirianne comments, "don't want to give the trolls any longer to dig in than we need to."
Dropping another paper cartridge into her pistol, Lirianne drawls, "Not if we kill you first,", steadies her aim and fires at the chief troll.
Lirianne empties both barrels into the approaching troll.
Lirianne moves into position in the back corner of the hall.
Seeing that Ceobryn's bow appears to have the bird well in hand, Lirianne reloads her pistol and moves up to get a clearer shot at the giants.
Lirianne drop a paper cartridge into her pistol and carefully lines up a shot at the big bird.
Lirianne moves forward and empties her barrel into the nearby giant.
Lirianne confronts Kalla, drawing herself up to her full height - about up to the councilor's nose - replying, "cowardice we'll see about. I'm more concerned with skill. Now me, I can hit a gnome at a hundred paces," she brags, brandishing her pistol, "and I'm given to understand giants are a mite bigger than that." She reholsters her gun with an elaborate series of spins and flips.
After making her point, she retreats to the more comfortable company of Dhiara, saying "I wasn't expecting to see another elf here, we heard tell it was just the orcs and giants on the island. You seem a learned sort, I'm sure you can see our flanking approach makes sense."
A slender half-elf with pistols holstered at her hips slams back her fourth - or was it sixth? - whiskey, shifting uncomfortably as the Venture-Captain describes Averaka. An entire city of half-orcs? Gods. How does that even work? Surely be now some of them must be quarter-orcs, or five-sixteenth orcs? She perks up at the mention of giants, though, recalling stories from her youth of plucky heroes taking on such creatures with only their wits and improvised weapons.
"Indeed," Lirianne replies to Blackjack, "and a provider of much work for agents of the law. And it sounds like there's still more work ahead of us, if there is truly a snake in out boots."
As Blackjack reveals his intentions, Lirianne draws her pistols, though keeps them pointed toward the floor for now. She gives the clerk a hard look, almost daring him to make a move against the party. Following the group into the office, she stands near the corner of a desk, keeping watch for trouble while Blackjack looks over the books, and covering Ceobryn as he opens the door.
"Can't say I know anything about merchantry; most of my negotiating is down the barrel of my pistol. I can look like a guard, I suppose," Lirianne shrugs.
"Much obliged," Lirianne thanks Ouroboria.
Reloading her primary weapon with a paper cartridge, she raises both weapons and fires at the now-visible targets.
"Lead it is," Lirianne declares, stepping to just before the boundary of the trap, and firing a carefully aimed shot at the woman.
Lirianne advances toward the woman, pistols raised. "Smart lady, dangerous is right. Whatever they're offering you, if you go against us I guarantee you'll be paid in lead and steel."
While the others have their chitchat, Lirianne waits impatiently for something to shoot at.
"Hey, who are you calling highwaymen?" Lirianne asks, following Jaques at a short distance . At the drunk's hostile shout, she draws her pistol and casts her eyes around for the man's supposed friends.
The stoic half-elf woman has been silent for most of the journey, cleaning and checking the pistols holstered at her hips, but at Jacques comment she laughs and elbows him good-naturedly. "Guess we know what 'item' the good captain here might 'liberate'," she jibes. "Never cared much for the fancy stuff myself, more of a a hard spirits gal."
Lirianne continues to stumble towards the sounds of combat, first banging her hip on a table before feeling her way around it to almost bump into two fighting devils. She once against swings her blade in the direction of the sound.
"What dark folk, it's all dark in here," Lirianne grumbles as she carefully steps into the blackness, sword held protectively in front of her, until she hears the faint clink of chains ahead of her and swings blindly.
Unable to see, Lirianne holsters her currently useless pistols and instead draws her sword, attempting to hear the approach of anything hostile.
Lirianne drops a paper cartridge into her favoured pistol, steadies her aim and fires a single shot at the darkfolk.
Recovering her composure, Lirianne draws her pistol and fires at the remaining hound.
Lirianne is having none of this, and runs away.
Lirianne also notices the stains under the table. "Possibly," she agrees, "but if so, whoever won cleaned the rest of the place up, and staged this whole display," she gestures to encompass the seemingly abandoned glasses and the scattered playbills, "like set dressing for a stage play. But are we the audience, or is there someone watching us?" Crossing to the bar, she picks out an interesting looking bottle, and pours herself a generous measure. "I don't like it," she announces, waving toward the note while downing the drink in one go, "This has 'being led into a trap' written all over it."
Lirianne frowns at the unlocked door, quietly drawing her weapon and standing ready to provide covering fire for the martial types as they enter.
Lirianne keeps a careful eye on the group of men while Hellion asks her questions.
The lingering effects of the mist are making it difficult to concentrate, though.
Lirianne looks around in confusion, trying to figure out who is hitting her.
Lirianne straightens, drawing her pistol and firing on the middle enemy.
Distracted by the disturbing sight, Lirianne doesn't see the curtain moving. She moves towards the manacles and bends to look closer, hoping that her suspicion - that what the floor is stained with is in fact blood - will not be confirmed.
Wrinkling her nose at the smell, Lirianne mutters under her breath, "why do I always get the swampy assignments?" She carefully checks her powder horn and cartridge pouches are well sealed before gingerly stepping into the boat.
While Hellion tries to discover more about the building, Lirianne stakes out the hidden entrance, watching for suspicious activity and any clues to who might be operating there.
"Yes, we'll be off, thank you for your time ma'am," Lirianne says quickly. Pulling Ceobryn out of the room, she whispers to him, "Let's try not to annoy the crazy murdering dead lady any more, shall we?" She then follows Hagnar to the orchestra pit.
Stupid, Lirianne chides herself for the waste of a bullet. Think back to all those ghost stories around the campfire, how would something like this manifest? It would need some kind of tether... of course, the scissors! Seeing that Elindriel has come to the same conclusion, she joins in the search.
Surprised by the sudden apparition, Lirianne reflexively fires her pistol at the image of the murderous woman.
Lirianne follows the others backstage, pistol at the ready.
The half-elf raises her hand to touch the tip of her hat, saying, "Lirianne, ma'am. In my homeland I was a shieldmarshal, an agent of justice and law - in that order - and as fine a markswoman as you're like to find in these lands. Since some magical tomfoolery brought me here, I've traded blows with both the Apis Consortium and Technic League and come out unscathed, as well as tracking down a piece of the legendary Sky Key. A straight-up manhunt ought to be a refreshing change of pace!"
"Do you have any reason to think these disappearances are connected? Seems like messing with with the upper crust is quite a change in M.O.," the shieldmarshal inquires. Thinking a moment more, she continues, "Who had access to the dressing rooms? Any sign of a struggle in hers? Had she been acting differently recently? Wouldn't be the first time I tracked a 'missing person' that turned out to be a runaway, usually young women with good reasons to run."
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