Minerva Malifect's page

Minerva holds her tongue, standing in the office in what shadows she can pull together, Watching the case that contained that all-important orb.

She watches the banter between Brenda and Thikka with mild interest, and finds herself examining Brenda as she had done to Portia, mentally reducing the woman to lines, shapes and colours; critically examining each element and how it fit the mood and setting.

She had a small smile on her face as she did this.

People were so much less judgemental once they were reduced to paintings.

When Unbolath enters Minerva hardly looks away from her examination, save a grateful glance and a clipped "Thank you." Spoken as if she were scared to be heard.

Minerva busies herself adjusting her cloak and /not/ facing the Door, or Brenda.

Minerva would breathe a heavy sigh of relief at that, smiling as she shakes the proffered hand "my thanks Portia, it means much to me to keep this section of myself hidden from most."

Minerva retrieves her hand after a moment, querying curiously "so; living out in the wild, you must have seen some beautiful sights and places... Are there any near the fort you can think of?"

At the first sign of anyone else entering; Minerva will rush to don her cloak and hide her deformities, looking genuinely fearful at being exposed to prying eyes.

Minerva followed the bird's flight until it settles on portia's shoulder before speaking again "I'd not call you ugly, dear. I hardly have the right to be an authority on the standards of beauty in any case."

Watching Portia's eyes nervously Minerva lets her thickly muscular tail uncoil and slide from under her cloak, the three fingered 'hand' at the end flexing it's webbed digits before undoing the clasp of her cape. The tiefling shivers a little in apprehension as the fabric falls away to show her true form; Horns, scales and tail all bared.

"It is hardly the 'traditional' aspects of beauty that I am interested in, Portia. No, it is more the raw, muscular aspect of someone who clearly knows the value of strength and it's finer applications."

While she speaks, Minerva will stand and walk over to the office's window, opening it up to let some fresh air into the musty wooden room.

Minerva smiled a little nervously back at the woodswoman, the tiefling tugging her cloak a little closed with one hand and smoothing out her fringe "about me dear? Well to tell you the truth, there's not much interesting about me. I'm a travelling painter and artist, taking commissions from nobility and the like to support my travels."

Absent-mindedly offering the hawk an arm to hop onto, Minerva gave Portia a guarded, analytical look "speaking of which... You've never considered modelling, have you? I have a client in a nearby city that pays handsomely for drawings of..." Minerva held her pose for a moment to search for the most appropriate word "...Beautifully sculpted women, such as yourself."

Well

I am a rather sneaky hydra

Unless Unbolath or Portia have an interest in ancient languages, Minerva has likely little to say

Though just to say so, Minerva prefers sweet dessert wines, or fortified reds on the road. She may well get chattier after drinks at the tavern.

Drunk people are generally more forgiving of her fiendish appearance.

Minerva jumps from the sudden ass-whipping, and glares at Thikka for a moment -considering lashing out with her own thicker, heavily muscled tail- before stepping from the shadows with plain annoyance. I will take some of the items to the office, then."

Even as she speaks Minerva will lithely step forward, retrieving the rune covered orb.

Minerva is quite grateful, very much so, for being allowed her anonymity a while longer. As Brenda looks to her, Minerva will speak in a soft neutral tone "I'll of course assist however I can miss.." A careful movement of her cloak will attempt to hide her sheathed blades "...but as I'm little more than a travelling artist, I'm unsure of my use."

Her piece said, Minerva simply nods and melts back into the shadows, ready to follow and assist at a cautious distance.

Stealth roll because Minerva hates to be seen: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

Minerva doesn't speak now, for fear of drawing attention. Instead she cleans the edges of her blades on her cloak, and sheathes them both. Her hood is tightened on her head as her cloak swirls round to cover her body again.

Even while she watches, Minerva is taking careful mental notes to the scene for her painting.

noting the details(perception): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25

Minerva will simply stand behind Thikka as she heals the dwarven thugs.

Minerva grows weary of this hostage crisis, but maintains her stance for a moment, before releasing the dwarf and shoving him forward. She makes sure to kick the fallen pickaxe away before speaking "better get running if you don't want to join your friends 'Carl'" her blades hold an easy guard infront of her.

going to release minerva's grapple and kick his tool away. Going defensive incase the dwarves get stupid.

Yeah, I'd prefer Minerva (or anyone in the party) to remain unmurdered/captured/maimed, especially if being so is followed by being buried in a toilet.

Minerva winces as Thikka unleashes her gout of flame towards the thugs, and grimaces when she hisses in Carl's ear "I'd prefer not killing you handsome..." She meant this sincerely, murder was generally bad for keeping a low profile and dwarves, especially sweaty, muscular, stout ones, were quite high on her desirables list.

"but if your friends try to rush Thikka and I, the issue might be forced. As she spoke Minerva slid her short blade from it's place by Carl's groin, instead digging the point into a soft spot on the man's back and aiming for non-vital organs. She tried to further her hold on him with her dagger, but instead had to settle for keeping the blade pressed to his throat

[ooc]Readying an action with my last bit of move this turn. If The other Dwarves attempt to grapple, charge or attack Thikka or Minerva, she will ram her short sword through Carl's abdomen. It's nice and theatrical, and even with her sneak attack damage, shouldn't be enough to kill (barring an unlucky crit).

grapple check to pin: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
I need to make a second combat maneuver check to pin him for sneak attack damage (being grappled gives him a penalty to dex, it doesn't deny him the bonus). Or do I get that anyway, cause he can't see me?

perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Minerva will hold 'Carl' hostage for now
"Your friend's staying right here until I know you won't try anything the second I let go...

Init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Pretty much. Minerva calls dibs on being Melissa McCarthy. She's the sexiest one.

I think she's basically checking if the dwarves are in on it

i.e. grave-diggers (digging humanoid sized holes, possibly with rope and gags nearby for burying peeps alive.)

Or privy diggers. Who were innocently digging a trench to go toilet in.

If by both you mean that they're planning on digging s trench, dumping bodies in it /then/ using that trench for a toilet, that is a whole other level of disgusting.

Cyborg doppelgangers?

Hmm, have the guy Minerva's grappling do a 360 degree head-spin like the exorcist?

Proceeding then to laugh in Minerva's freaked out face as her sword fails to even scratch his robo-balls?

Cue romantic music as they embrace...

moments before someone yells 'CUT!' From offscreen

The world dissolves as the entire cast break down into giggles. Terquem the director stalks onto set.

He's laughing a little himself, but still ranting on about how they're supposed to be 'professional actors' damnit; can they film /one/ scene on the holo-deck, just one, without pulling shenanigans.

Alright people, take five, when we come back, can we /please/ pull off one last fight scene today?

Calling it now. Everyone in mystic valley is a cyborg from another planet.

Or everyone's a doppelganger. (Including the entire party).

Or Henderson is a were-cow

Or something like that, at the rate Terquem's been dropping mind-f**kingly huge revelations, I wouldn't be surprised if if we did a fade-to-black here, only to reveal that this was all a game, an immersive simulation inside a futuristic society. Everybody gets new character, and it turns into a cyber-magic D20 modern game.

I'm not complaining Terq, thus far it's been keeping me on my toes.

^intimidate was for what I'm about to post. :-)
Stepping forward like liquid shadow in the sparse shade of buildings,
Minerva will come up silently behind the rear-most Dwarf and slip her off-arm tightly around the man's bearded neck, dagger against the top of his throat in a classic 'barbers choke-hold.
At the same time her short-sword will take a more intimate position, it's razor edge pressed nice and hard against the dwarf's groin.
grapple: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

She will press the dagger hard enough to draw blood if the man struggles , makes sounds, or resists.

Once her hold is secure, Minerva will call out to the other dwarves.
"I've heard that it takes serious 'balls' to scare a dwarf." As soon as the others see where her sword is, Minerva will add "So if either of you makes a fuss, I'll be borrowing your friend's."

Do I get a bonus to intimidate for threatening to cut his meat & two veg off?

intimidate: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

I should think sneaky is the order of the day
Stealth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

"Perhaps when we're done pulling her from the flames" Minerva whispers, walking slowly, noiselessly as she can manage in the sparse shadows.
As she does, a slim dagger slides from it's wrist sheath and is held hidden behind her arm.
"Though I might hesitate Thikka, given most human's reaction to my other 'appendage'" the tiefling adds, her tail-hand sliding out of hiding for a moment to pull the short-sword from it's scabbard.

going to move towards portia, hugging the wall and drawing a dagger from her off-hand wrist sheath. Then going to use her prehensile tail to draw her short-sword into her main hand.

Minerva gives a slightly acid smile with a touch of tooth, nodding and putting one hand on her sword.

We are lucky then that the ranger has such a petite derriere, though were it not for the fire I'd give pause before calling it hot."

Minerva glances up at the whistle, even as she follows Thikka along the alley.
"Did you hear that whistle Thikka? It sounded odd, but I cannot place the intent..

Pursing her lips, Minerva attempts to copy the sound.
perform: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Though perhaps not trying so hard as she could.

perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

intuition: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

"I think it would be within my skills, yes" Minerva smiled genuinely, standing up and patting a little mud from her knee-pads.

Her smile faltered a teeny bit "For as long as I can maintain the illusion though, Thikka, I'd prefer if my less /legal/ talents are kept hidden from the others."

From those rolls, I'd say Droka should sing the 'I hate miners' song. XD

doth mine ears deceive me?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

*edit*apparently yes, I am deceived.

Kk

might be planning a burglary on the WEAC office of those sneaky dwarves, to look for info/any valuables Minerva wouldn't feel too guilty about stealing.

Might see if Ritmush and/or Droka wants in. (Another rogueish type and a smooth-talking spellcasting bard would be awesome.)

Minerva tilts her head in a slight nod something ticking over in her mind.
"I'm not quite expecting the translated 'Prophecies of Azmodeus' Thikka, I can only hope it will help me unlock my race's forgotten history. That said, Privacy would be best." She rolled the parchments up and stowed them carefully away.

She followed the rat's eye towards the dwarves and nods again, hood coming up to cover her head "as to them, I do mislike being lied to.
I find myself pondering on the possibilities of a back-door and an unguarded office..." For a moment, only for Thikka's eyes, a pearl handled lock-pick danced along Minerva's slim fingers before vanishing once more.

Minerva warily followed Thikka into the alley, her footsteps silent and fluid as a dancer's shadow. She considered kneeling, examining the alley's mud with a critical eye, quickly deciding that her dignity was worth far less than what she could learn here.
Stepping gracefully to rest softly on a knee, Minerva brought out a few parchments, the ones covered with symbols, and her sketch of the orb.
"I didn't want to mention this to anyone I didn't trust, but these symbols."
She pulled off a glove, showing off her thorny tattoos and the symbols between the brambles.
"My people all know of them, have them enscribed upon our skin to save what little remains.." She faltered, turning her arm to show the other side ..and the language they used to represent before the cataclysm destroyed our homeland, the meaning became lost with time.

She held a parchment in each hand "but that sphere, the symbols on it were the most complete set I have ever seen, or even heard of. There were words, a structure, a sentence!"

Her attitude had grown exuberant, and for then she didn't care that her hood had fallen down, though her tone was still soft for stealth reasons her mouth had broken out into a small smile.

"However, for their true meaning to become known would require a casting, of the Comprehend Languages spell. Minerva finished, smiling as much as she would allow herself at Thikka.

kinda.
lemme go back

Kk

I did post an interaction with Thikka for whenever you're ready :)

Minerva hung near the back of the pack, as always, Taking in the sights and sounds of the town.. Walking with Mule in tow, and generally just observing, taking mental notes of what was said, what emotions ran high, what occurred.

It became clear, as she listened to Unbolath talk, that things were swiftly going to be about Paperwork.

Instead, she decides to Head back.. towards Thikka

She decides to follow old instincts, and does her best to approach unnoticed before calling the rat-woman's attention with a gentle cough.

Stealth: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

*edit*=Holy shit, Nat 20. X3
Minerva is the Best at stealth.

I'm BACK

Don't Kill my character!

I didn't even know this game was still alive.

Shhhh.

You'll give him ideas!

Well
Given how much she's had her mind obliterated with the constant 'Everything you know is wrong'

I think Minerva just wants to get to this town and Settle in for a nice, long nap.

..Even if she cannot ask Mr Tramsen for his company..

Don't go smutting the magic doom ball now Ritmush, it holds the key to Minerva's racial past.

But I'd like to agree with Thikka here, the weirdness is no issue and indeed it serves the story well. But with the sheer amount of odd developments so quickly, there was little time to react to, and digest, each one.

Minerva just went a bit glazed in the eye as the odd boy rambled on, only to jump out of the daze by the stinging hand of Thikka. She couldn't help but feel somewhat shame-faced as the witch spoke about the lack of evil in blood. She was a thief, and a liar.

Then the cleric spoke, and she shook with fear before pushing Ritmush to the side and walking on.

"Just leave me alone, all of you.." Minerva hissed softly, leading her mule to walk on the far side of the caravan, away from prying eyes and the honeyed lies of the Cleric

Minerva pauses her giggling as the young human asks his questions, and sighs in the exhaustion of mirth as she wipes her eyes then considers hthem with a 'hmm?, While her brain recombobulates itself.
The state of calm lasts about 5 seconds.
Then she makes the mistake of following Ritmush's eyes up to her horns, her burnished bone ram-like horns, covered at the base by shiny tar-black scales, completely uncovered in broad daylight..
Yep. There it went, just a little into her thankfully waterproof leather greaves.

The hood was up and over so quickly the points of her horns tore two tiny holes in the taut fabric. She couldn't hold in a hiss -hidden tail an iron band around her stomach- through gritted fangs during the panic before the rogue manages to compose herself.

She put on falsely calm, smooth, easy tones again before speaking to the youngling "trust me little one, you want nothing of what I have." Minerva glanced to make sure the cleric isn't looking before she shows her tail for a split second, using the hand on it's end to pull her cloak closed.
"These things are disfigurements, a taint on my race's soul, not points of pride."

Dammit Valind you comedic b@stard, you made me snort my coffee XD

Minerva -to her credit- was handling this quite well by her own standards; she hadn't made any whimpering noises, no daggers had been thrown and she had not yet been forced to cast darkness to cover her escape.
But she was concentrating so hard on it, on forcing back the gut-gnawing terror at people seeing her disfigurement, that the cleric's absurdist oblivousness caught her entirely by surprise.

Minerva laughed like she hadn't done in years, in a decade, it started as an explosive snort before launching into a fit of body shaking, eye tearingly genuine laughter.

She was still panicking, and the laughter was choked with fear-soaked hiccups as she tried to force it back down, but she couldn't stop until it ran it's course.

In a moment the fact that her hood had fallen completely down to expose her horns and demonic features would register, and Minerva may well pee herself a little in terror that the Cleric could see them. For now she was giggling mercilessly.

Thikka , our characters should hook up.
Ritmush hath spoken XD

Minerva flinched as if physically struck when the cleric pointed at her, the tiefling quickly turning to dig through he mule's saddlebags, hiding both her look of sheer terror on her face and the slight blush as the implications of what the halfling said sunk in, she let the thought run rampant for a moment just to distract herself from the icy fear in her heart.

bluff to hide fear: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20

Ah, the oldest trick in the Cleric handbook - When in doubt, accuse them of being a lesbian.

Never fails. :D

AHA

Minerva will quietly Approach Thikka when it is dark and she can go without her covering cloak (it seemed to annoy Thikka last time)

kk

Minerva, from her position near the back, blinked at the new development and eyed her own mule for a moment with light suspicion.
"If you've been lying to me all these years, speak up or no more ale-oats" she warned, silently questioning her own sanity.

After a moment or silence Minerva shrugged, satisfied she wasn't being watched, and fed the animal an oat-cake before inspecting the new half-cow doppel-thing with critical eye.