Marinus gazes with affection at his still new companions. It’s incredible how just a few strife-filled days can cement affections. Has it been this way in every incarnation? Or will this be the lifetime when evil is finally vanquished?
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Marinus stands up as tall as he can, facing the Councilman and Grimburrow. "Thank you, Father. We will most certainly require supplies. Holy water and any wands, potions, or scrolls you have that provide healing. Councilman, if the town has any wands or fine weapons that may help in combat with undead things, that would be worth your investment."
He walks to Milo's side, putting on his shoulder a hand meant to be reassuring.
Marinus responds to Millicent quietly. "Other than Gibs? I'm not sure whether the man's just an ass, or an outright psychopath. Perhaps I'll ask our new neighbors. No doubt the fires will have warmed them up to us. Or so I hope." He psychically cleans the soot from his clothes and hair before offering the same to his companions.
Marinus moves up to the dais and gets ready to flood the skull with life's essence. "Millicent, do move back, would you?"
"Very well done, everyone. Brother Rankin, Mellum, you're true heroes." Marinus gives a very grateful look to Marnie. "Now let's get Luthko out of here. Everyone, let's get clear while a modest number try to stop the blaze. Leave them an escape path."
If it weren't for the adolescent scritch of his voice or his downy cheeks, you might think the lad was grown up indeed!
Marinus looks with dismay at the burning Luthko. Inwardly, he curses the weakness of his small frame. But he continues to exhort the townsfolk to free, stepping away from Gibs as he does so. "Everyone, keep moving. Russel, sir, please, get Mister Luthko out of there."
"That's it. Oops, ma'am, watch your step. Slowly, sir. We have time. Keep moving, everyone!"
Marinus tries (and likely fails) to understand what just happened, before attempting to usher the townsfolk out.
"Calmly, now. Help each other keep moving. Don't push. It will all be okay."
Marinus responds to Ajir's call for discretion with a considered pause, catching his words with tight lips before releasing them. "I can say, we aim to explore Harrowstone's ruins and remove any spirits or necromancers that haunt it. In our absence, I suggest..." He looks wryly at Gibs. "...The town form a small posse to check every house for signs of intrusion."
Marinus realizes his faux pas, blushing. His fingers fidget, No, of course they wouldn't have taken it as a complement, silly. Normal youths don't talk about their memories from over a century ago... He gathers himself as Millicent all but shoves him into the room. He adds his words to Ajir's own. "The Professor cared very deeply about the safety of Ravengro. His research led him to suspect that dread necromancers had set their sights on Harrowstone and the unquiet spirits whose lives ended there. If he was correct, their foul magics may have spilled out to Ravengro, causing the dead to walk. We wish to investigate."
"Councilwomen Straelock and Faravan. Councilman Hearthmount. How like your forebears you look. I am sorry for what happened to your great-great-grandfather at Harrowstone, Councilwoman Faravan. He was a good man, if a bit set in his ways. Not a trait you’ve inherited, thankfully."
Marinus nods his head in agreement. "Yes, of course. I just meant, I think we should trust Petros' line of study as our next investigative step. I wouldn't miss the meeting!"
"I suspect our best next move lies within those ruins. Milo, will you run with me toward trouble?"
Marinus moves to the chalkboard and raps on it with his index finger, his focus on the conversation and not the cold. "Petros wasn't investigating these spirits breaking loose of their own accord. He was focused on the lich lovers themselves. Perhaps their rituals have stirred up the necromantic energy needed to wake the dead. Or maybe they've just gotten bored with their hunt and decided to do some flesh crafting on the side."
"We found much that may be helpful. What we need... That we shall see! Have you perhaps holy water? A wand that heals?"
"Thank you, father. Paper would be most helpful. If you happen to have a large slate, that might also help." Marinus dives into his studies quickly. Ultimately, the tomes serve to fill in bits of memory from his previous visits to Ravengro those many years ago.
He rather bluntly hands pen and paper to the dhampir as he notices his struggle to find appropriate references. "Basti, would you help me by taking notes?" He proceeds to narrate his findings.
"Oh, goodness. What I know... Are you familiar with the migration of souls between lifetimes? Suffice to say, sometimes I feel all of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again." Marinus' voice and mien epitomize his now-familiar mishmash of youthful enthusiasm and centuries old world weariness. He quickly focuses in on the matter at hand. "We know that Petros suspected the Whispering Tyrant's cult to still be active. They had taken an interest in a particular prisoner who had been held at Harrowstone — who perhaps remained there in its basement, kept there by Warden Hawkran and his men during the fire. Petros believed the Whisperers had been up to foul play at Harrowstone. Perhaps attempting to unearth and reanimate this evil." He looks into Grimburrow's eyes. For a moment, his own expression seems very ancient indeed. Weary. "I had occasion to visit it once, before the firer. The people they kept inside... Those are not spirits we want running rampant in this world."
Marinus inclines his head respectfully at Father Grimburrow. "We are just beginning the day. I pray none of the outlying farms were attacked. Father, do you think the old ruins might have enough lingering necromantic energy to cause the dead to walk?"
Marinus gives Milo an affectionate light punch on the arm. "I don't think I can make any promises, especially when innocent kids are in danger. But I'll see what I can do." He gazes at his friend's sword hand. "You know, I believe in destiny. I suppose I have to. There is a thread running through my lives. Almost always I'm fighting the forces of undeath and decay in these lands. Maybe wielding that sword is your destiny." He nods at the others, indicating he's getting ready to go, as well. "The thing about destinies is, if you fight them, they'll fight you back. And the struggle'll be on their terms. Once you accept them, you get to take charge." He smiles and walks toward the door, pleased with his attempt at insight.
Marinus wakes early, rested and fully healed. "Let us hope the restless dead have left the town alone for now, so that we may focus today's efforts on finding their source." He seeks out Milo and asks bluntly, "So, tell me more about your sword. You don't seem very at ease with it."
"Would it not be wiser, Councilman, to escort the priests to the town hall, where we are to gather? Otherwise we risk spreading our forces thin."
Marinus clears his throat and proclaims loudly, "This is what we will do: Councilman Heathmount, you will requisition any medical supplies and magic healing, to be brought to the town hall. Those grievously wounded or able to fight will be tended to first. The latter will ensure that our neighbors have all gathered in the town hall." Tired and still hurting from his near death experience, he looks with empathy to Millicent. "We will arrange watches. Those who wield magic will be given an opportunity to rest. If we do as I say, then we will get through this."
"Berti, I'm so glad to meet you. Whether you ran or didn't, you survived. That means you're strong in the most important way. I'd be proud to call you my friend." He sets his mind to healing the boy's pride — namely, magically cleaning the boys pants where they were soiled.
Marinus gives Milo a ginger hug before going to check on the boy. "Are you okay? You were so brave, refusing to run away from that awful thing. I'm Mari."
Having delivered prey, Marinus squirms about, taking his leave of the ghastly hand.
He steps away, drawing his dagger. Status: HP: 15/19 AC: 14 Spell Slots 0/6
In spite of the pain around his neck, Marinus smirks. Having successfully served as bait, he walks calmly over to Milo and away from the innocent villagers. He does what he can to present the hand as a ripe target.
Marinus looks at the too endangered townsfolk and moves towards the sheriff. He concentrates for a moment and sends two powerful missiles shooting out — one at the hand attacking the boy, and one at the zombie closest to the sheriff.
Marinus runs towards the boy and his dog, shouting at Caeller as he goes.
Status: HP: 19/19 AC: 12 (flatfooted from running) Spells
[b]Phrenic Pool 3
Marinus nods. "Perhaps we should join the others, Emm. Kendra, I'm so sorry for this nightmare. Whether it was a necromancer who caused this, or some evil stirring in the land itself, we will find its source." Still drained, he gets ready to continue patrolling Ravengro.
Marinus watches Millicent examine the corpse impassively. "You're Ta...?" He shifts his focus to Kendra and asks softly, "What does Ta mean?"
Marinus Level 3: Level 3 Psychic +1 Fort
Adventuring Skills
Background Skills
Feat: Spell focus (divination) Phrenic Amplication: Will of the Dead (Su)
+1 First Level spell slot
Round 2 Marinus' hands twitch — not communicating, but a somatic sign of his mental efforts as he sends positive energy shooting out at the body of the man who protected him through childhood. "Go back to sleep, Professor. You deserve the rest."
Round 1 Marinus moves toward the manor. A bolt of force flies out. I'm sorry if this damages him. Her safety is paramount!
Marinus moves forward, though keeping his distance a bit more than previously. He waves his hands in the air.
Marinus follows Millicent. He skips to keep up while casting an eerily calm gaze around the village. It's almost the look of a hunter, belied by the easy sway of his shoulders as he bounces along.
"Kendra's plenty capable. Lireia, though. Basti, did you see her at home?"
Marinus stirs. He gazes at his hands and the Pharasmins, a look of mild surprise on his face. Those fingers twitch. VSL:
Yes, same body. That was stupid of me... "Um, thank you, father. I'm grateful for your prayers."
"Oh, forgive me. It was you who said the prayer. But I thank you all. Most kind. Now, where were we. An outbreak of zombies. Emm, remind me not to do something that foolish again. I might need it. The reminder." He gazes at Father Grimburrrow. "Yes, Ravengro has quite a lot going on. We'd meant to come talk to you about other matters, but I suppose that will have to wait until the zombies return to stillness." He leaps to his feet. Familiar with divine healing, he doesn't hesitate the way some do, unsure whether their wounds have been fully treated. "Where are the others?"
Marinus gurgles on the ground. His hands twitch almost indecipherably. VSL: Please ... no ... drag ... carry ... careful ...
Marinus smiles knowingly, gesticulating towards Millicent. VSL: But it sure seems like a good way to get him to use his gifts, doesn't it Emm?
Marinus steps back, a look of assuredness his willowy frame does not seem to deserve.
"Milo, fate has given you your gifts for a reason. Use them wisely, but do use them. Now would be a good idea."
Marinus gives Milo an approving nod. "I like your sword. You should keep it around." Undettered by Ajir's protectiveness, he goes trudging toward the approaching zombie, waving hello. "Hey, you! Hungry?"
Round 2 Marinus moves forward to get a clear shot . He again channels life force toward the poor animate corpse, but with little success.
Marinus moves towards the closest zombie and gets ready to channel his considerable life force into the first one that comes within thirty feet. Readied Disrupt Undead:
"Maybe let them come to us, eh? I'm not a very good shot, if you start engaging them."
"Except when you’re swinging to take their heads of," Marinus adds helpfully.
Marinus arches the usual brow as the sword appears. His hands speak of their own volition. VSL: Have I seen this one before? How many such blades have I seen? For how many eras? Well, this certainly seals it. Pharasma has drawn us together for big things.
Marinus rolls his eyes a bit at Ajir's protestations, but still attempts to calm him. "As Emm said. There is a curse upon this land. We are bound to it. I more than most, I fear. Hence, it is familiar to me." He trails a few feet behind as the Bereaved approach. "If you can, keep some clear from melee. I've some means to corrode the fell energies that animate them. But I don't have the best aim in the world..."
"Agreed, Emm. I have lived through many a manic Moonday. Most of them here in Ustalav. Lifetimes when it seemed as though the walking dead outnumbered those who breathe." Marinus gamely joins his companions in tracking back the zombie's steps.
Marinus arches an eyebrow. "Oh, a zombie. How droll. Um, slash at it. Fists nor clubs will help." He sends a powerful, snarky thought at the bag of rotten flesh before backing away.
"Oo, I love sambac. Have you been to the jasmine gardens in Goka? And the salted plums there. A... delight." Struck with hunger, Marinus delves into the snack offerings. "Have you any dried plums? Candied ginger?" He follows Millicent out the door, munching on dried odds and ends. His eyes alight on a figure slumped nearby.
Approaching, he calls out. "Oh, hello. Are you alright? Would you care for some prunes?"
Marinus browses around the store, not looking for anything in particular. Eventually, he ends up at the counter. "We've a very special doll here. It's magic, you see. Made for the protection of children. Should any bogeyman be nearby, it shall make a call of warning. Do you know of any doting parents who might want to gift it to a little one?"
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