Losvarlinth's page

Gate District - Northgate Market

@Losvarlinth: You scurry southeast toward the market. It's a heavily-populated area, so there's a good chance of survivors. Plus there are likely to be useful supplies -- food, maybe clothes or blankets.
As before, there are bodies scattered about the streets. You slip down a street of colorful tents that once housed tinkers and minor craftspeople. One small folding table covered in carved wooden toys is spattered in blood and a tiny finger remains next to a painted wooden pony. It is a level of grotesquerie that makes even drow queasy.
You hear an odd creaking and a large trunk under one of the display tables opens. A skinny man starts to clamber out, spots you, and gives a shout. "Ah! It's one of them!" He slams the lid shut.
You're not entirely sure how he even fits in there.

Losvarlinth composes herself, then looks at the chest for a moment, shaking her head.

Seriously?

She walks over to the chest slowly.

so that she doesn't alarm the poor man any more than he already is

She kneels beside the chest.

Sir? she says calmly. I can assure you that I am not one of those foul creatures. That chest is not a safe place for you to be. We need to find shelter and supplies if we're to survive.

She pauses.

Patience, I must do the right thing here. I've come too far to slide now.

Please step out of the chest. I intend you no harm. If I did, I would just burn the chest.

Diplomacy: 1d20 ⇒ 11

She remains watchful while she waits for a response from the terrified man.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Kenabres, Gate District - Temple of Sarenrae
Having found no survivors in the temple, Losvarlinth moves through the large arched entryway. Seeing flames in the market place, she cautiously makes her way there.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Kenabres, Gate District - Temple of Sarenrae

Losvarlinth blinks away the tears from her eyes and slides her tinted goggles over her eyes. Still seeing afterimages, she picks her way through the rubble of the temple looking for other survivors who may need assistance.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24

dotting.

Checking In.

Losvarlinth looks at Iommena You’ve grown. It’s been what… 8 years? Where’s Harsiel? I would have thought he would have followed you here. I can’t wait to see him. He’s 13 now or close to it. How is he?

Losvarlinth doesn’t know about Harsiel. She is excited and very happy right now.

Cousin Losvarlinth! Iomenna stands to her feet, beaming with excitement. With a few strides, the woman has made her way through the press of people near the bar and wrapped her dear cousin in a warm embrace. It's been so long! I haven't see you in years! I didn't know you would be in the city or I would have told mum and dad to come down to the tavern too.

Losvarlinth holds Iomenna tightly I never thought I’d see you again. then surprised your mum and dad? That’s wonderful. I'd love to see then again. Its been so long.

Cyril uncomfortably shifts in his seat, as if every patron in the bar were after his little concoctions that he carried around with him.

"I'm Cyril Hastings Alderford,but for your convenience you may refer to me as Cyril."

He offers her some of the food he has ordered.

"Tell me, where do you stand on the issue of having hooves like our friend here." he motions to Adriala. "I believe they would be convenient and possibly superior. To be perfectly frank I wouldn't mind the horns either."

A pleasure to meet you Cyril. I haven’t thought about hooves but I can see where they would be useful. Losvarlinth looks at Adriala’s horns The horns are beautiful.

It must be nice to have old companions to reminisce with."

Cyril has been watching from a distance, seeing the mix of humans, elves, aasimar, and tieflings mingle together. Watching them smile and laugh together, it soured his mood.

Unreasonable, that's what he was at the moment, but he couldn't help this bit of immaturity. Those who had so much, and himself who had so little. What did he want? To join them? Or to line their robes with itching powder?

His interest perked at the mention of the re-enactments. It might be amusing to see the glorified renditions of an otherwise decent history. Something wholesome for the masses that wouldn't sully their appetites for war.

"I guess there's more to do at a festival than sit and drink."

Losvarlinth follows Cyril’s gaze Yes, it must be nice

Adriala smiles devilishly and turns to Losvarlinth.

I may not Follow the gods, but it is clear enough to everyone that you do. It is an art to use magic, weather divine or arcane. you, who are so close to the divine, should be grateful for your god. I am grateful for my patron, and it has guided me here to you. something wants us here, God or not. we seem to belong.

Losvarlinth looks at Adriala thoughtfully You may be right about that.

Is that why the Oracle had me wait three days?

"There it is, coddled again! Let the boy speak for himself!"

Cyril stands up and approaches them, his thin crooked form unnerving when matched with the gait of his steps.

"So what does the young man have to say?"

Losvarlinth startled by Cyril’s outburst, watches him move away

oh, it seems Cyril is getting himself into some trouble...
Adriala eyes the half-orc and frowns

Still watching Cyril, Should we try to keep our friend out of trouble?

Adriala sighed in relief when the situation calmed.excuse me, I must take my leave she says to her half-drow acquaintance.

she then stands and slips over by Cyril where she looks down at the maps everyone seems to be interested in...

Losvarlinth stands, Actually, I’m interested in what has Cyril so antimated and follows Adriala

The door of the Defender's Heart swings open suddenly, and a woman decked out in full armor strides in….

Hey, everyone! Hope I'm not too late to the party!
As far as linked backgrounds, Iomenna is pretty much available to anyone who has been around the training grounds in Kenabres for any significant period, as well as anyone with the Exposed to Awfulness trait. The Player's Guide recommends multiple characters with that trait be related somehow, which is fine with me, especially if you're Aasimar (I'm planning to have Iomenna's dad be Aasimar, mom be human).
Looking forward to interacting with you all!

Losvarlinth watches as the armored woman moves through the crowd.

is that?......It can’t be, can it?

Losvarlinth has the Exposed to Awfulness trait. Probably cousins on the human sides of the family (mother drow, father human). Losvarlinth disappeared suddenly when she was an adolescent.

Adriala noticed the new arrival and smiled. flex raised his head and examined the woman. It is for me... the gods don't seem to notice me. I've tried religion, but none of them truly rang for me. I can see you are the opposite. The gods love you, or at least the one that matters to you.

Adriala finished her wine and flicked her tail. My patron isn't a god. it's something more... mysterious.

Losvarlinth looked down at the tabard, then at Adriala. You mean this?she said as she touched the tabard. I don’t think I’ve been noticed, but I’m trying.

To Losvarlinth and Adriala

"My apologies. I had assumed your entity was of the divine nature, as that seems to be the prevalence here."

Cyril, discreetly pulls out a small vial from within the folds of his clothing and pours a small amount into his drink. Anyone nearby can hear a slight sizzling and smell something a bit fruity.

"And you would be?" he asks the newcomer before downing his glass in one swift motion.

To Cyril and Adriala

I apologize; my name is Losvarlinth (Lo-svar-linth)

…and you are? said with a smile

Losvarlinth picked her way through the crowded tavern, and found a place at the bar next to a gaunt, disheveled human having a conversation with a tiefling with pale ivory skin, red lips, white eyes, and a beautiful set of horns that curved down and over the back her head.

A cup of hot black tea, please she said to the barman.

As she settled down on the stool, she caught the tail-end of the conversation between the man and the girl with the beautiful horns.

and as for religion... the gods exist but they are picky on who they help...

I certainly hope that is not true... she said absently

Losvarlinth entered the Defender's Heart tavern and her eyes immediately teared from the bright lights inside. She moved to the right just inside the door and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light.

I waited the three days at the temple as the oracle directed. I have “ventured into the city” like she asked.

Her eyes began to clear and she saw the inside of the tavern for the first time. Her eyes widened as she looked around the room, her eyes still a little teary.

I didn’t know so many people would pack themselves so close together by choice.

Losvarlinth is 6'1" with silver-streaked white hair and white eyes. She wears scale mail under a gold-trimmed blue tabard, an embroidered holy symbol of Sarenrae displayed prominently on the chest. She currently wearing sungoggles on her head above her eyes.

She has spent the last three days at the temple of Sarenrae regularly praying for redemption as she had been taught by the Oracle that had brought her there. The priests had graciously assigned her a room so she could sleep there.