Lora watched the wizard speak, a warm smile curving her lips as he did to some length. When he finishes, she leans into his arm, nuzzling into him. Another thing this adventure has taught her is to truly care about others. Well three others. And one even more "Of course, but it is Our journey, I thought, unless you have reconsidered?" she slipped her hand into his, fingers interlacing, still all fluttery inside that anyone would what to introduce her to their mother. Of all the things that people had wanted out of her, this...
"Bly'gha" she ended her question with his name, said with perfect punctuation.
“And that is when the entire left side of her face exploded in thick green puss, spraying all over her allies, making them all look at the rather pathetic woman in disgust.” the lovely blonde woman told the throng of listeners around her. “Honestly I didn’t know why, since we all know Loveless’s face was just as disgusting to begin with.”
Lora Drowne finishes her recounting of that final singular fight, for the third time this evening. A vast hall celebrating the career of Dame Dunsmith but also to rub shoulders with the heroes dubbed the Alken Fall’s Four. Crappy name, but it had taken hold. Lora would work on it later.
Freed for the moment from performing, which she never minded, Lora swished her succulent silks to the seat of honor, where the woman that pressed the Four into service sat with some bored weariness. The dwarf looked at her blonde's bouncy curls and stated “You know you looked better as a ginger, don’t you?” but with a smile.
“And you looked happier as a bartender” the blonde retorted, smiling as well. The two had worked closely together these last few months. Lora’s hate of the deputy had bleed to all those that supported her, and her skill with finding out secrets remained sharp and subtle.
They stay quiet for a little while, the retiring inquisitor sitting with a glass of something amber in her hand, and the hero in her ball gown standing with a glass of wine. Foebe repeats, hopefully for the last time, a complaint “You shouldn’t have downplayed your part in the Four. They giggle about the disgraced bit of fluff running around with the true heroes, making jokes and serving as the group's ‘nighttime entertainment’” the blister part was the only achievement in her stories.
Lora just smiled, having had this discussion many times and with each of her companions. “And if I am that in their minds, little more than an entitled slut tagging along, they let their guard down, want to prove themselves better than a ‘hero’ and spill their precious secrets so much easier” a small sip and a savor, looking out at the eyes checking out her fit of her gown along her graceful curves “Which has proven very good for the city, has it not?”
Lora has never been a good person. Vindictive and greedy being her worst vices (besides drinking, sex, and puns), but this adventure has taught her one really really good lesson. She loved destroying the wicked. Not because it was good, but because she reveled in their suffering, and that moment of surprise where they lose everything.
Foebe didn’t respond, which Lora took as a final dismissal, she leaned down and kissed the woman on her cheek, whispering with a smile “Enjoy your cows” she then swayed away.
The city has gained a protector, not the kind most would expect, but the kind they need.
Whoever said vengeance helped nothing, never knew Lora Drowne. Cause that red head is grinning like the cat that just got all the mice. She quickly sings a small song at Eva, closing some more of her wounds.
"That is between her and him for all I care." she said about the wizard and medusa, all this having nothing to do with those two in her mind. Hurrying over to a ostentatious statuem Gaudy is an understatement for the granite monstrosity that is very clearly as phallic as could be.
Pressing her back to it, and her feet to the wall, she heaves with all her might, slowly tilting it until it topples. Crashing its heavy bulbous tip into the prone body of Loveless, its head smashing her head into a messy pulp.
Lora brushes off her skirts as she looks over her handiwork. "That's better." she says simply with a bright and satisfied laugh.
"Okay, let's get you all healed up, turn off these bombs, and then get Very drunk."
Lora's desire to keep Eva alive eclipses both the s$$@ bag's desire to kill the inventor and Lora's own to rips apart the greasy ugly smelly dumb useless... itchy? no, cantankerous?... well bad person. "Yield?" she laughs loud "You are NOT being given the chance to Yield, puss bucket." the yellow gunk leaking out of her face finally lets Lora think of something else to call her.
Lora wants more than anything to keep throwing magic at her hated enemy, to shift her rage into a monstrous spiteful abomination bent on gutting the slug nosed deputy.
But the blood covering the floor is coming too much from her friends. With a snarl she directs some of her healing magic into Eva, her snarl also helping to inspire.
looks like Eva is one hit point lower then Royken, so she sent healing this round to her. Next I'll have Lora send it to him.
Loveless's flesh swelling and exploding in pussy gore makes the bard smile in bloodthirsty vengeance. "You die today" she promises, letting her eyes travel around the room "All of you if you stand with her." the bard lets magical dread creep into her words, hoping to make the deputy and her minions suffer from a bit of terror.
fear dc 29 vs will, can target up to 5 creatures, so all of them also inspiring this turn, so add +1 to attack and damage for Eva and Royken.
Hate blooms, red and hot, in Lora's otherwise pretty face. "You made these thorns, you ugly sack of filth." she hisses at the deputy. "And you probably don't even Remember HIM!"
In quieter times, Lora will admit she has trouble remembering him anymore. His face or smell or the touch... simple things like that... gone. But she does remember feeling little around him, because he was SO good, honorable, and... she wasn't. And that had given her hope, oddly.
But it wasn't Lora Drowne the extortionist that had been killed. No, it had been the one Good person she had ever met.
By this B~#!*.
Ignoring the wizard, the guards, and everyone else, she focuses her magic on Loveless. "May you be as ugly on the outside as you are in..." she cocked her head and looked the gunslinger up and down, then ticks her tongue in dismissal "Won't be much difference I'm afraid." then she casts blister on the woman.
She casts blister, dc 29 vs fortitude, if it succeeds she will pop the blister, trying to bath as many bad guys in the acid blast. Otherwise, she'll use her words to inspire.
blister:
You point at a target in range, and its skin grows searing blisters filled with caustic fluid. The target must attempt a Fortitude save.
Critical Success The target is unaffected.
Success The target grows one blister. You can spend a single action, which has the concentrate trait, to pop a blister. The target and each creature in a 15-foot cone originating from the target takes 7d6 acid damage (basic Fortitude save). You choose the direction of the cone, which can’t include the target. When no blisters are left, the spell ends.
Failure As success, but the target grows two blisters.
Critical Failure As success, but the target grows four blisters.
"And tea please, Alethsia. Don't forget something devilishly yummy for your dear Ibrium." the bard calls, as she moves toward the uttering f+*&ing HATED Loveless. Walking with a pronounced sway, looking pretty as a red tart in her insanely luscious dress and no visible weapons.
But she ignores the s*@$-faced rancid ground-up gutter vomit of a deputy and instead smiles warmly at the Nexian wizard. "Ibrium of Nex. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. We have heard Sooo much about you from a colleague. You may remember him. Parsus." she pauses for a moment then continues "I believe when last we saw him he was spilling beans about plans with who and all the whys. Generally ruining any benefit this loveless plan has for anyone." she leans her elbows on the bar, grinning like a cat, still ignoring the canker sore next to the wizard.
In a light pardoning tone, she continues "Ibrium, no one here cares about you or your part in it all, just like we gave not a single tiny poo about Parsus's. He will go about his life as soon as he is done testifying, free to pursue all his unnatural hobbies."
"Wouldn't you like to do the same? Vitrumancy, was it?" She looks back at the door she hopes Alethsia has left from already. "All you have to do is follow her."
diplomacy?:1d20 + 22 ⇒ (1) + 22 = 23When you Request something, you treat a critical failure as a failure Fitting, but I backtracked and she should have a hero point... so diplomacy?:1d20 + 22 ⇒ (9) + 22 = 31When you Request something, you treat a critical failure as a failure
Lora slips around her dwarven friend, in her yards of fabric, but with a warm iron in her eyes that screams strong confident but still lovely woman. She does hope this will resonate with the intriguing medusa.
But just in case it doesn't and they are in a hurry "We are in a hurry, I apologize for that, but we simply must converse with your companion, Ibrium. It is both financially and life threatening if we do not. You simply must take us to him."
Lora rises in a puff of red silks and crinoline. Her disguise was only her face, the dress was just too lovely not to wear. The plethora of folds allow her a discrete opening to her hip where her pistol is resting nicely.
"Okay, lets find out if there is a way into Ibrium's cabin without a brawl. I can use veil to mask us and our weapons, to make us look like servants... though there are a bit of us." four servants seems excessive. Or invisibility for all of us?[/b]" invisibility sphere
"Or we can just go there, see if there are guards, charm them with our assets" she bumps Eva with her shoulder "or pick the lock if there are none, and see if we can convince Ibrium and his companion that the powers that be know the plot, so profit is highly unlikely."
"Three crates, with a bomb each? Probably. We have one key, so we need the other two, but even if we manage, That s~%~ has a remote detonator. Of course she'd go boom too." Lora doesn't seem to mind that part "So we need to go after the keys, and make it so we can get to the bombs. A battle will alert the other key holder, though. Maybe Ibrium could be talked sense into after Loveless is toast. But he also might rush to her aid if we are too loud."
Gunther Beck is very rich, in his early seventies, and prone to shouting about the rising cost of cheese, followed by smacking his lips in thought about how much he would like to eat a good Munster, and finally dozing off quite suddenly with a whistling snore.
He is a fixture at events like this though and always brings a date to them. Not a reasonable age appropriate date, oh no. Always a young pretty vapid little thing that is doe eyed at the majesty of the super rich, and often ends up in the arms of another as soon as the whistling and drooling begins.
Tonight's date is a small rather pretty young woman in an off the shoulder crimson dress that puffs out so outrageously one might think Beck bought out the fabric store. The dark haired dark eyed lady is truly Lora hidden by her hat of disguise.
Lora brightens like a lamp in the night at the prospect of dressing Bleach. "Bright colors, far from the average colors one would think a necromancer would wear. A bright blue, with silver embellishments. And a pointy hat!"
"You would look lovely in a suit, Roykin, but I'll see what I can do." the once secrets merchant still has some pull in society, so she contacts this person and that count, until she manages to get each of them on board.
Roykin is staff, manual labor is always needed in any party. Lora is the date of an old handsy noble who will probably fall asleep as soon as he sits. Bleach is a traveling scholar provided a ticket to mingle and tell interesting facts to bored guests. And Eva is on contract to make sure the engine stays in working order.
just thoughts, if anyone has better ones we can shift
+2 int/+2 wisdom/+2 con
+1 charisma (20!)
language from int: gnomish
skill from int: arcana
bard class feature: courageous assault(let someone attack with melee as a reaction)
archetype feat: skill mastery (performance to expert, society to master)
skill feat from level: Party Crasher (attend all the fashionable parties! no use here but very much a Lora feat)
skill feat from skill mastery Biographical Eye (pick up on social and visual cues to learn a great deal about a person's origin and history)
new spell Blister (she REALLY wants to use this on Loveless)
replace spell: telekinetic maneuver and gain Resist Energy (not her normal type of spell but they are headed for a ship full of explosives)
Lora who is mad, still thinks stopping this is worth it, but she looks to their own necromancer who may or may not think this is a good idea. "Bly'gha, what do you think?" she asks.
Lora's hurt anger softens a little and she nods in acceptance of the apology. But instead of puns, she shifts her magic into a light tune about a town burning a necrophiliac named Parsus (which she might be making up on the spot)
inspire and heal Eva soothe, 4rth:4d10 + 16 ⇒ (6, 9, 2, 2) + 16 = 35
Lora gets dragged into a ghostly iron maiden, which slams shut on the pretty bard, silencing her endless prattle.
For a second, before she manages to pry open the coffin, kicking and screaming, even biting (something that truly looks unsanitary so she will need to brush later).
As she makes it to relative safety, Royken bashes her in the face with the butt of his rifle. "What in the ever loving F!!% is wrong with you!!" she yells at him.
mental+negative:2d8 + 2d8 ⇒ (5, 2) + (1, 3) = 11
WIth holes in her body, her brain hurting, and now her nose is gushing blood, she mumbles "F%*! you, Royken Slatehound, f!+# you." it seems like the pun comment has hurt her worse than anything.
soothing on herself for once:4d10 + 16 ⇒ (2, 6, 6, 7) + 16 = 37
Lora places a hand on her well formed him and smirks "Steal? Good sir, we've already stolen, just don't look behind you and all the rest will be gone."
deception:1d20 + 19 ⇒ (14) + 19 = 33
Whether he looks or not, a slim shadow of a cloaked figure with a wicked knife (a thiefy as a thief would look) attempts to stab him in the back.
I think this is how an illusionary creature works. If not, edit it to how it should please. DC 27 if seek is taken to disbelieve or he touches it
Lora sings her songs while using a cloth to clean away blood and bits of flesh. The eagerness to move on, to catch that horrid ass, is evident in her eyes, but if they catch up but are wounded too much they will lose, and Lovelass will live.
Seeing Royken ripped into like a succulent lamb makes Lora expend her highest level of healing spell, as well as yelling out "Yes, F&%~ him!" inspiring but adding "Literally, if it would get it from ripping you apart more."
Lora was about to make a snarky comment about skeletal crocs, but then they threw their HEADS! Instead she says with admiration "I am impressed at the imagination of this necromancer." which is also laced with her magic.
Lora comes out from her cover and starts to care for everyone's wounds. "They could have used the chemicals to blow this place at any time. Using the zombies as triggers for the explosion meant they wanted to blow it up when someone was here."
With gritted teeth and a very unladylike curse, Lora jumps behind the nearest cover as soon as the zombie explodes. Her body hurts, but not nearly enough to put her down, so as she pulls herself up again she says with as much venom a delicate woman like herself can "We will KILL the f@%!ing bastard that made this piles of pustulating s#~+!" her words hold her normal magic, and her hands move to magical heal some of Eva's.
Lora immediately reaches for her pistol, then stops. "Firearms are probably a bad idea right?" her words, while laced with concern, carry her inspiring magic.
Instead of igniting gunpowder in a figurative powder keg, she uses magic to grab the nearest zombie's leg and yanks.
"Should we take the time to dilute them?" Lora asks, waving away a potion. She is never adverse to drinking strange things but his description makes her feel it is better for one of the others (melee bonus)
Lora leans into the windows, her eyes bright absorbing the beautiful choas of the underriver. "You worked down here every day? My my..." she laughed out loud as pair of soiled underthings float by with tiny blue fish weaving through the openings.
"We can't leave them to each other because we can't be sure either will do the job properly." all that has been around her for long know what she means is that they can't be sure Loveless will be dead at the end.
"The dead are back to being dead." the red head calls down from the lip of the ladder "So come up and you can get out safely."
The bard is a little unsure about climbing down the ladder, her eyes look over it as best she can without getting on it. Hopefully the half-elf woman listens and comes up.
Lora blinks at the revlation, her nut brown eyes widen in horror "Wait, that really is a possibility?" she understands, logically, their necromancer's thought process of it being Highly Unlikely, but still it chills "I thought it was a tavern tale." she looks at the pile of corpses, her mind cataloging the information away, even as she kind of wished she hadn't known.
As Royken fiddles with runes, Lora busies herself with clearing away zombie bruises "Do you think you will turn?" she asks Eva "You know, into a zombie, since one bit you." she points to a bit mark, barely breaking the skin on her shoulder. "Oh wait, no that was from me." she chop chops playfully.
I looked up and noticed the attacks were from beating, not biting, so added the last bit
The dead people being forced to walk doesn't bother Lora. Dead is Dead, and once you are you are. She does seem very interested in the maps and miniature city. "Nothing makes life easier when the crazies leave out their plans. What do you think all the red lines means leading to the Hydroforge?"
She does nod to the suggestion to scouting and gives Hadi a scratch on their bones.
Lora twirls her loaded pistol around her finger, catches its hilt then fires. She cries out in delight at heads pop "Like fish, in one of those barrels." seems like she is an expert shot when there are so many targets there is no possibility of missing.
Her fish comment is magically enhanced to inspire.
inspire!
Lora's eyes go big as multiple heads explode with her one shot, pausing only a moment before she starts to reload. "One two three four. Zombies heads popping to the floor." the bard rhymes so her magic can inspire.
inspiration as normal, reload, since we are not hurting too much... yet, she also strides back more to keep from getting bitten. missed she needed to roll reflex til now, sorry about that.
"I think I'll just stay away from them all together." Lora says in response to their necromancer's suggestions. She lets her magic inspire while she draws her pistol and fires in one easy motion.
pistol:1d20 + 16 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 16 + 1 = 37 damage:2d10 + 1 ⇒ (9, 9) + 1 = 19increased to d10 due to fatal
"I think..." Lora leans against the dwarf "Smuggling and Secrets could go hand in Rather well." she offers job alliance, at least the budding potential of one, once they have a chance.
"ZOMBIES!" she laughs. "Bly'gha, you expertise awaits."
Lora dressed in a lovely gray dress of silk and layers, sees Royken eying the lock and give him a nudge. "You got this" she encourages with a gentle smile, standing back with a gloved hand on her chin, nodding at his deft fingers. "You have a talent for this, if you wish a career change after we've done with all our avenging, dear Slatehound." others might consider retirement after saving all in their land, but not them, oh no not them.
"Treating us to a drink would be a great start." Lora suggests to Shoma. "And directing us to a bath house since these things have left their marks all over us." smell, vomit, SMELL
soothe, last of the 4ths:4d10 + 16 ⇒ (7, 9, 9, 9) + 16 = 50
Invigorated by the destruction of one of them enemies, Lora's healing powers through a good chunk of Royken's wounds, as her songs spike in shadowy caresses and mistaken identities. All while she stays well out of combat.
