Meraxilar Zoon's page

Wow, Just checked up on this.
I'm sorry this ended. I lurked for abit but I've been out of the hobby for awhile.
During my time here, you guys were all awesome to work with. I'm contemplating a return to the hobby in a pbp manner soon. I just hope we can group again if I do.

Special Thanks to Tark for taking a chance on a noob to PbP and allowing such awesome character concepts. Just thinking about this makes me miss it even more.

Happy New Year Nobles! Miss you guys. :)

With regret I'm going to drop out of my only pbp. While our posting frequency has dropped pretty low, the 2nd module itself might be part of the reason. I'm not quite sure it translates well to a pbp, just my opinion. My main reason is that my interest in the hobby has dwindled (partly due to lack of RLgames in my area). It's hard for me to let go after 30+ years of great gaming, and I had more fun with Merax than I've had for awhile now.
Paizo's latest ap along with gunslingers and some other things are also starting to turn me off, iI miss the simple days.
Apologies to the Nobles crew, I'm going to miss the crazy interactions. :)

Disgusted with the dolt of a woman at his side, Merax briefly contemplates what it would be like to cleave through her head between the jaws. Remaining polite he merely smiles and nods as she keeps opening her mouth.

Merax looks at the still writhing food with a deadpan look that reveals nothing. He reaches for a bottle of wine and pours one for himself and his peacock.
He mutters to himself, "What a delightful dish."

Meraxilar follows Caldazar's example, at least until Lady Tillernos begins anew with her mindless drivel. Then his thoughts turn to a more entertaining fantasy of unmaking her.
Occasionally, he looks up and watches the foolish Gorumite dance around like a fop. By the Rough Beast, between this highborn wench and Tal's dancing, my mind is slowly being unmade. How much longer can I endure this?

I'm staying at the table too.

Meraxilar's patience begins to wear thin as he waits for the next course of this dinner. Leaning over to Caldazar, he whispers. "How many more dinner courses are to be expected? Quite frankly, I'm astonished at how much food and drink these nobles can consume without succumbing to sleep. Surely they will not be able to keep this up much longer."
After some thought, he leans over once again to Caldazar and whispers. "I believe we are expected to stay the night after dinner in any event as the streets of Westcrown are still infested with lurking shadows and whatever dark things are about. As a gracious host and one still capitalizing on the prestige of this night, I doubt the Lord Mayor would simply put out the nobility if they pass out. That would be somewhat damaging to his reputation. Perhaps it would be best to wait this event out instead of risking something while everyone is still about."

By the Rough Beast, will this dinner ever end? At this pace I will be the one unmade, laid low by an inanimate haunch of venison.
Meraxilar paces himself through this course, nibbling on some venison and grabbing a few dates.
Fortitude: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
After another glass of wine, Lady Tillernos begins to look better. Perhaps I am drinking too much of this wine? He pours her another glass while maintaining some charm, phrasing his flirtations with noble etiquette almost forgotten over the years.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
Whispering in her ear, "Surely there must be somewhere private we can scurry off to for a pleasurable break from all this food, perhaps one of the empty rooms upstairs?"

"Lady Tillernos, being corrupted by you sounds sinfully delightful . Would you know of a more intimate place in this manse that we may explore such a possibility?" Merax adds a mischievous look for good measure. I could use this wench as an excuse to look around the place for myself.

Merax continues to flirt with the Tillernos strumpet, hoping for more information on House Carthage. "Are you one of my adoring fans, my beautiful Sascar? If so, I would be most honored." He seals it with a sly smile and pours her another drink.
After more small talk, he once again leads the conversation toward House Carthage itself. Looking for information about the house itself, and how one might get invited to one of their galas.
Diplomacy (to gather information): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

After the course, Meraxilar begins to mingle with the more intoxicated guests, attempting to discreetly steer the conversation toward gaining information about his sister.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
As he makes his rounds, he too looks around.

"Huzzah!"

Meraxilar gets up courteously as his sister leaves with some of the other guests.
Sense Motive : 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Saddened by his sister's early departure, he returns to his seat. "Would you pass me a haunch of that boar and some of the wolf flank, Tal?" After thanking the Gorumite, Merax nibbles slowly at the meat while wondering if he'll see his sister again soon. Has it truly been that long, that she has forgotten me?

I'm ready for the next course. :)

Perception : 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Oblivious to the lady in the blue dress, Merax continues to watch his sister. He tries to make it obvious (to her) but decides he wait until she gets up before attempting to speak with her.
Could she have forgotten me so completely after all these years? Surely she must have some vague recollections of our younger years?

Knowledge History: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
After examining the bottle, Merax fails to appreciate the wine and finds himself longing for an Ale or a Dwarven mead at this point. With a raised eyebrow, he watches Tal wander off while considering if he should follow him.

Fortitude (DC15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
Deciding to stay, he sits back and relaxes as he awaits the next course.

Seeing Petronicus shaken, he walks over to assist him to the dinner table with a smirk. "Trembling already, Mr. Crispin? Dinner hasn't even started yet. Have a drink or two, liquid courage as they say."

Going on the assumption that my long lost sister is important enough to be at our table, If not I'll take a seat between Pollux and Tal instead.

After maneuvering himself next to Sachia Carthage patiently (oddly enough), Merax waits until all of the women have been seated at the table before he sits. After looking over the course, Meraxilar helps himself to some beef marrow fritters, a haunch of the Axebeak, and a small piece of the smoked Gar. Looking over to Mayor Aberian, "Now this is an exquisite meal. My compliments on your excellent tastes, Lord Mayor."

Disappointed, Meraxilar joins the rest of the cast and prepares himself for a dangerous evening among these nobles. Perhaps an opportunity to talk with his sister will arise later.

Meraxilar gazes around the room to see if he recognizes anyone from almost two decades ago.
Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
All these years and these infernal vermin yet endure. May Rovagug give me the opportunity to bathe this place in blood in his name.

Merax's knuckles whiten before he realizes he's gripping his axe handle that hard as he finally notices his long lost sister as well as the other woman with her. He grabs another drink as he gets a little closer feigning interest in the conversations of the attending nobles.
His eyes never leaving his sister for too long, he hopes to make eye contact to see if there is a spark of recognition from her.

Meraxilar arrives by coach during Petronicus's performance, dressed in the garb of Tybain once more. He gives the stage name of Xarem Rail to the one making the announcements.
Once his arrival is formally announced, he tears a page out of Petronicus's book, whirling his axe in a show of skill.
"By Aroden's fallen grace, none may bar the path between my company and the dinner table of our most gracious host, The Lord Mayor. Prepare yourselves, soon the legendary Larazod will arrive. For now, stand aside and pour me a drink."
Combining a final spin of the Greataxe, he bows.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Ready to move on as well.

"Better than you, Mr. Crispin, although your unmaking must have made for an interesting experience." Merax pours another glass for Petronicus.
Perhaps its best not to be openly suspicious in case something else is indeed dwelling inside Petronicus.

Enough about those dreary long days, your first task is not going so well? Anything I can do to help matters, or is it too delicate at the moment for any assistance?[/b]

"Unless you have contacts in certain noble houses, no."

Merax walks to the stove, "There will be soup this evening, will there not?" With that, you get the impression that any discussion about his first task has been ended.

Merax pours another for his host. "My personal endeavor has only met with failure. I have been working on another.... Task." With that, you notice a rather disturbing gleam in his eyes.
"As for Petronicus, Seeing Lily kill a man would be interesting. Is she also a Gorumite? I had no idea she had other skills aligned with ours."

An uninvited Meraxilar arrives at Tal's the night before this mayoral feast, "I have heard whispers in dark places that there might be soup here, Tal." Upon seeing Lily through the kitchen door with a fork to Petronicus' chest, his eyes narrow slightly. "It would appear that Mr. Crispin might have offended your wife, Gorumite. I would be honored if you would let me take out the refuse for you." He says half jokingly, as his one-handed grip tightens on his axe.

You notice that Merax seems to be in somewhat good spirits, which is somewhat alarming. He leans his axe on the wall by the door, takes a seat at the table, then pours himself a drink of whatever is available.

Merax looks around at the old Bastards of Erebus lair, with his disciple in tow. "Yes, this will do nicely, Rovari." Looking for her reaction to all the dried blood, he continues through the tunnels. "Many were unmade down here recently, some at my hands. This city festers still under an iron willed order. Here there is now serenity from the chaos we wrought. You will never again be compelled to follow any such order, and you will bring this to those deserving before long. Savor this moment, this is the place of your rebirth." Pleased with himself, Meraxilar continues with his inspection....

Great idea to use this place Tark. I'd forgotten about it. I even like the furnishings. ;)

Answering the messenger at the door, Merax reads the invitation and gives the man a murderous look after reading the costume request. "Tell your masters that Xarem Rail will return as Tybain once more." Merax slams the door in the messenger's face.

The next morning, he heads to the Children of Westcrown's lair to meet with his new disciple. "From this moment, you are Rovari Rail, my daughter. I will teach you the Unmaking, you will follow this path no matter how dark it gets and you will persevere. Come now child, gather your things, you will be staying with me."

For the next few days, Merax will not answer any summons or meet with the group as he unmakes the girl in every aspect save death itself and begins her training in the ways of the Rough Beast.

She never answered my guest list question but I'm ready too.
"Perhaps we should start on making this chili then." Merax nods to the group signaling that he has nothing further to add to his particular conversation.

Merax stays silent letting the others as the important questions. He begins thinking about how much unwanted attention he will get being invited to the Mayor's house. The house of Zoon fell long ago but many noble houses have notoriously long memories. If my sister's house is not represented at this gathering, this will be for nothing.

Looking at Ailyn, he speaks via the Message spell. "Just out of curiosity Ailyn, would you know what noble houses are regularly invited to the Mayor's gatherings?"

Meraxilar takes the seat at the table that provides the most tactical view of the bar should more trouble arise. In one smooth motion, he relaxes his grip slightly allowing his axe's weight to drop its head downward and bury itself a half inch into the floor with the handle upright beside his seat within easy reach.
When the barmaid comes with Tal's beverage, "I would have a bottle of what the Lady is drinking, be sure it remains unopened and is chilled." When she leaves, Merax listens to everyone else as he surveys the tavern.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Still waiting on the girl's response, then I'm ready to go.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Dropping in on the Children of Westcrown, Meraxilar visits the young girl he rescued in the alley with Pollux. After some small talk, "I can provide you with a path that will insure that you will never again become a victim if you so desire. The way is difficult, but I can guide you. It will take determination and an unwavering resolve on your part. I will unmake you and turn you into something.... more."
He waits a few moments to let things sink in, and with a dangerous look to drive things home, "You have until the morrow to decide, I will return for your answer."
Merax rises and heads for the door to return to his other errands. On the way out, he gives Janiven a short, yet somewhat disturbing look as he nods to her before leaving.

Happy thanksgiving to everyone in Tark's various games!
"May Rovagug unmake your rough turkey in a tide of flavor!"

"I'll take my leave, I have a task or two that needs seeing to. I'll meet with you at Tal's this evening."

Assuming no one has further use of me, Merax will walk to the Children of Westcrown's lair, passing the Carthage estate once more on the way. Unless the Rack stops me from leaving because the Mayor isn't done with us, Ill try and rendezvous with others at Tal's before Nightfall.

Merax watches Petronicus's asmodean mannerism, but stays silent, with a look of amusement mixed with mistrust on his face. "We should put him back down. Such a waste of potent magic." Walking past Tal, he snickers as he makes his way back to the doors.

Just removed the Circlet of Persuasion from my sheet, Cal. Make sure you add it to yours. :)

Meraxilar eyes Petronicus with a good deal of suspicion. Hmm, brought back by the grace of an infernal. I wonder what the ramifications of this day will be. Nevertheless, we should be wary around him until we know more.

He whispers these thoughts to the others when he has the opportunity.

Meraxilar remains quiet during Caldazar's exchange, We are all unmade from the moment we are born. This might help the librarian build mettle when he is reborn. Then again this Petronicus was useless before, diminished he will be more so.
"My fellow actor speaks true, Lord Avanxi. He had other talents to bring to performances as well. The reputation of Westcrown, under your leadership I might add, will grow as word spreads of a successful Murderplay. Even Egorian must acknowledge the accomplishment. Carefully wording his next thoughts, "There are those of us who would be in your debt if our fallen were made completely whole. At the least they would praise your very name in any upcoming social events."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 Without the Circlet of Persuasion which I gave Caldazar, hope he remembered the extra +3

The nature of this church's order gives Meraxilar pause as he briefly contemplates waiting outside. By sheer will, he adopts his usual deadpan look and ascends the stairs ready for anything. Saying nothing as he enters the temple, Merax sizes up the Asmodean priests and the mayor in case things go the usual way.
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

"Aye, the irony of being chosen to fill the role of a Paladin is not lost on me. I am happy to shed that persona. Xarem Rail I will keep Abit longer, it has possibilities."

Meraxilar sizes up the Hellknights as he walks toward the coach, a look of amusement displayed on his face. To no one in particular, "I've always admired the Rack's armor, I doubt it wears comfortably over extended periods of time. A salute to the lawful determination of the order." Dolts! Their armor still sunders well enough under my axe.

Just before stepping up into the coach, he turns to one of the grim sentinels of Westcrown, "I don't suppose you would consider stopping for a meal along the way, would you?" Without waiting for their response, he climbs in. "Good Morning Lords, ..... And Lady Caldazar. It's good to see you reveling in masculinity once more."

Im ready. :)

"Unmaking Thesing would have been cause to celebrate, alas a bloodied rose was on his side."
Merax lounges with the others, his mood still soured.

Still somewhat angry at Thesing leaving unharmed, Meraxilar says nothing as he counts his pile of gold. Thoughts of Sachia Carthage, the girl he rescued with Pollux, and Lily's soup enter his chaotic mind.

I would have prolonged his unmaking! Better living through clean negative energy!

Hope you go back to your old avatar soon, ugly girl. :)

Merax casts a look of barely contained fury toward Caldazar, "Merciful fool! That fop's unmaking is long past due. I thought you different than other followers of Milani. You lack initiative, but that is standard fare for your order, and it's greatest weakness. Always reactive, which is not just the root of all rebellions, but their very reason."
Realizing that he just justified Caldazar's actions in letting Thesing go, he relaxes his grip on his Greataxe and tucks in his Holy Symbol with his left. "What a maddening order to choose."
Merax shakes his head and leaves Caldazar standing there alone.

AoO?

Witnessing the display, Meraxilar calmy walks over and smiles at Caldazar. He extends a hand and grasps Thesing by the shoulder. "Allow me to help you rise."
A wispy black glow begins to emanate from and Merax and extend through the area rapidly, oddly it avoids Caldazar as it spreads.
Channeling Negative Energy(Wis DC 12): 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7 (using Selective Channeling to avoid Caldazar)