Blast groans and collapses to the floor, but with his last moments of consciousness, he folds his hands across the wound, staunching the blood flow as he slides down the sewer wall.
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Blast hisses as his ankle catches on the fallen man's armor, and he pulls his leg up to avoid putting pressure on the foot. Falling back a step, still leaning on the wall, Blast leans on the wall and wrenches a hand in the air, slamming the fallen armiger's shield into his ally from behind.
Blast breathes heavily for a moment, but then he rushes forward, slipping past Chandra and Aristaios. When he reaches the split in the hall, he springs up and kicks off the wall, his tail flicking his coat out to confuse the Hellknight he passes, turning to his right and bringing his cestus down to bear on the wounded recruit before him. As soon as he strikes, though, he falls into a defensive position, hoping to avoid more wounds than he already has.
"Yeah, I think we'll be fine this time." Blast still looks scratched up and the worse for wear, tears in his clothing and the recent wounds from the goblin fight just closing now--clearly he's saved his potions for when he needs them more. Still, he has a determination in his step and his voice, and though he leans against the wall each time the party stops, he looks capable of fighting. "Looks like there's only one left even if it was a Hellknight dragged her away. We can take one of those iron dimwits."
Blast turns after finishing off the goblin before him and sees the others, standing mostly still. With a stifled grunt of pain and effort, he lashes his hands up and out, and the knife of the goblin he just dropped slices through the air toward one of its companions.
Blast breathes heavily as he spins to face the other goblin, who goes slack-eyed and stands tottering rather than attacking. The tiefling only gives it a moment's thought, and presses the attack, driving his cestus toward the little brute's head.
Blast twists to avoid the worst of the goblin's second attack, and bares his own teeth at the small monster. "Nariin , ta jaakhan baas , ta toglokhyg khüsch kherkhen uu..." He flicks his tail to his left, dragging a bit of his coat with it as a distraction, then drives his cestus forward again, dragging the spikes across to slash and tear at the goblin's skin.
Blast doubles over as the goblin thrusts its weapon deep into his stomach, and he lets out a wet cough that sprays blood into the room and across the little monster's face. Staggering back against the wall, he uses it for leverage as he brings his cestus to bear, flinging the armored, spiked fist forward at the head of the creature that wounded him.
"I'm sure she meant the goblins in the sewers," Blast comments, still peering back out into the main hallway to keep watch for the Hellknights--or anyone else. "Lot of folk think of it like an urban legend, I'm sure. Took a good view of some of them myself to fully believe it."
Blast also pauses at the blocked door and nods, placing a hand on his own wound. Absently, his tail flicks out from beneath his coat and flicks some larger specks of dirt and grime off his coat. "We should have time. We need all the help we can get." He looks over to Chandra, wincing as she leans in, and puts a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, lady? Got tore up pretty bad back there."
I'll just wait. I'm interested to see how the Kineticist plays out fairly by the book before delving into houseruling it just yet.
Blast hangs against the wall as the others move to join him, looking to run. He nods to them as they move, and decides he can get away with one more attack before leaving. He glances about for a moment, looking for something to use, and his eyes settle on the fallen Hellknight down the opposite corridor. Grinning, the tiefling hooks his fingers in his mouth and gives a shrill whistle. "Oi! Tinhead!" When the Hellknight blocking that opposite corridor turns to him, Blast reaches out and makes a grabbing, yanking motion with his arm. The fallen knight's sword suddenly flies from the ground and spins, its point aiming for the knight's back.
After this, Blast readies to dart down the hall Abraham went down, intending to move near the end of the pack to help cover their retreat.
Alright, after my laptop crashing, restarting a few times, and finally being in working condition again (for now), Blast should be ready to go. He lost Telekinetic Finesse for right now, although he'll get it back next level, and gained an infusion for his kinetic blast. He also picked up a couple new skill ranks in new class skills, and traded his feat (Extra Wild Talent requires 6th level? Why?) for the Tiefling racial that makes his tail that much more useful.
I'm going to hold off on posting for right now and try to get one up later today--Occult Adventures is finally here, and I'd like to get the chance to see what's in it and possibly rebuild Blast before going further.
Blast frowns as his attack seems to do nothing to the Hellknight battling Daniel, and he finally takes a moment to see to himself. Snatching a potion out of his pocket with his tail, he pops the cork and drinks it down.
Injured as he is, Blast is unable to resist the Hellknight's forceful shove, and he barely keeps his feet as he is thrown against the opposite wall of the sewer chamber. Glancing around, he feels a momentary pull to leave. Every ounce of his upbringing on the streets, his experience with trouble and danger, screams for him to turn tail and run, leave the sewers, spend a few days hiding out in back alleys, and then return to a life with the guild. Pick pockets, pick locks, work with a team of trusted allies he knows, play it safe. Not glamorous, but not dead. But the tiefling sees Chandra still unconscious on the ground. He sees Aristaios pouring potions down her throat, hoping to revive her despite the dangers all around. He sees Viktyr, the paladin of Iomedae, still struggling against the Hellknights, despite his own grievous wounds and position on the floor. The echo of Daniel's pistol still lingers in the tunnels, and the scent of burnt powder is a strong reminder that that man--that ally, that friend--was still fighting as well. "F*ck me to the Worldwound," Blast hisses, gritting his jaw and pushing off of the wall. "Hey assh*le!" he shouts at the Hellknight in front of Daniel. "Eat sh*t!" With that, he channels his power and flings whatever scrap of something hard he can from the sewer water.
Staggering from the wound, Blast coughs up a mist of blood and falls back behind the corner, hoping to cut off the dual assault of the Hellknights. The commander dealt him a savage blow, and the tiefling grabs onto the wall for a moment for support. No, not today, not like this. He grits his teeth and swings forward, no longer seeking openings with the dagger--now he strikes with a spiked metal glove, still light enough for finesse, but a more brutal weapon.
Blast sighs as it becomes apparent a fight is in order, and he slips around a corner to wait for the Hellknights to make their entrance. When they do so, he presses against the wall, breathing deeply to remain calm. He lets out a snicker and rolls his eyes at the zealotry of the leader--You cannot triumph? Please.--and holds for a moment longer when he sees the armored man charge past. Only when the knight becomes occupied with Abraham does the tiefling step out from behind, bringing up his dagger to seek an opening in the Hellknight's armor.
Name should be Brian L., I believe. You should be able to find me from Kingmaker.
Blast pauses as the others discuss what to do with the Hellknights approaching. "You lot can worry about knocking them out if you want. I don't have that level of finesse with my... fighting style. Besides, we could just leave them bleeding." He turns to Chandra at her suggestion and shakes his head. "Bad idea. They could buy it, but they probably won't. And they might not gut you--or they might, since they'll have every right in assuming we're also linked to the resistance group they already know exists--but at the least you'll get thrown in jail. Rule one of the streets: Don't f*ck with the Hellknights." The tiefling holds the woman's gaze for a few moments to let his message sink in, and then gives a small smile. "Besides, you're in good company to face them off. Haven't you heard of the demon-blooded Mind Thief of Westcrown?"
Blast accepts the potions graciously, tucking them into spare pockets in his coat and trying not to show his surprise at being handed such items. How much gold would this be? A month's work? Two? He shakes his head and blinks to clear his mind. Focus. Right now you need to just get out alive and free. Taking up a spot near the middle of the group once Viktyr and Janiven take the lead, the tiefling keeps with Chandra and the boy. He assists in keeping Morosino occupied and walking with the group's brisk pace. "So, Morosino--can I call you Morry? Sino? Something shorter?--Anyway, where you from, kid? How long you been with these folks? Must be a pretty good thief, escaping from the Hellknights." He pats Morosino on the shoulder and glances to Chandra, giving a small smile that the woman is also helping here.
Blast sweeps into the kitchen along with the others, moving quickly now, years of experience of running from the guards or angry merchants fueling his speed. He smiles a little at Chandra's treatment of the boy, but realizes there's no time. "Yeah, you're doing fine, kid. Ran like the wind, I bet, and there's no helping it when the guards decide to do their job for once. But now we gotta run, yeah?" He flashes Morosino a grin and grabs his arm. "C'mon, let's get the Hells out of here." Not pausing for a light, instead relying on his innate night vision, the tiefling clambers into the traphole and starts making his way forward, the dagger still in his free hand.
Color rises in Blast's cheeks at Janiven's response to his question. How blunt. He sits back as the others discuss things, his thoughts roaming in and out of the conversation--tensing up involuntarily at the mention of dealing with rowdy tavern patrons. Breaking the law is all well and good in his mind--certainly nothing out of his comfort zone, all things considered--but the thieves had their own rules and guidelines about these sorts of things. One of the first and foremost was avoiding the Hellknights and dottari whenever possible. You don't raise their ire, you don't attract their attention. You see one, you leave, no questions asked. And this? This is the fastest track to breaking those rules he's ever heard. Blast finally raises his hand and calls the bottle of brandy to him, setting it on the floor as the conversation heightens and drops off. "I think maybe we've had a bit to drink and we're getting worked up over new ideas." He downs the last of his own glass and sets it back on the table. "Easy to get caught up in talking about fixing things, toppling the government, and changing everything for the better. But it's tougher than that, yeah?" He stands up and pulls the collar of his coat up around his chin and jaw, looking as though he's about to speak when the lad bursts through the door. Turning, he stands still and alert, and for the first time his tail slips down and through the break in the tail of his coat, twitching up and resting on the chair's back. At the suggestion Hellknights are on the way, Blast glances to the back door and opens his hand as a dagger flies from hiding in his boot up into his grip. "Where do we go? To get your friend or just scatter?"
Blast shakes his head at the other tiefling's response. "Can't say I recall anything solid. And it's a shame you've cut ties--it's no good to be alone in a city like this." He turns to face the red-haired woman as she enters, and calmly sips his brandy as she approaches. Though his eyes wander over her body, it's less "undressing" her and more looking for weapons or valuables. He doesn't see anything concerning, however, and raises an eyebrow at her comment toward Chandra but otherwise remains quiet. Glancing at the others, he tries to catch eyes with Daniel, giving the investigator a questioning look. Good idea? Hesitantly, he flips the card back from the table to his hand and flicks it up between his fingers. "I think I'm gonna need some more info, yeah, 'lover.' First and foremost, if helping Westcrown also helps me. I try to stay altruistic in these tough times, but it's hard, you know?"
Blast looks at Chandra as she enters the room, one eyebrow raising at the apparent cat, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he turns to the other tiefling and leans back in his chair. "The Cader? I'm not there too often myself. Most of my business keeps me in the Spera..." He muses over the cup, which floats in the air just beyond his hand. "Maybe I was called in to help with a... a job? Or you came to me?" He grabs the glass and takes a sip. "How long ago was it? Now you mention it I think I recognize you, as well. What's your name, chum? And your, ah, affiliation?"
The Morning Before:
Blast was crouched in an alley when the woman came calling. He'd risen early that morning, as usual, from an inability to get a good night's rest and a need to begin the day early to get his work done. Never a spare moment in the life of a thief. He took a pair of the younger urchins with him for lookouts, figuring they could use the practice and knowing that even they would probably do better at noticing trouble than he would, given his nerves these days. He could still pick a mark easily enough and was as sharp as ever with his talents, but the pocket picking was mostly a reflexive endeavor these days. Blast's mind was on other things.
As such, he had just lifted the merchant's purse from his pocket when he heard the voice behind his ear. The tiefling broke his concentration suddenly and violently--the purse tore itself in two and spilled dozens of gold and silver coins to the ground. Barely hearing the loud cursing and shouting from the street, Blast spun to face the speaker, bringing his hands up to display the metal gauntlet with sharp spikes he wore. "Back off--" he cut himself short at the sight of the woman, surprised both by her appearance and her attitude toward him. Instinctively crouching down, he narrowed his eyes at her. "Who's your lover? Certainly isn't me. As for helping, well." She flicks the card and he reaches out with his mind, guiding it into his hand without taking his eyes from her. Nonplussed, she walks past him out into the street, and he quickly loses sight of her in the growing throng--angry merchant, opportunistic paupers, and before much longer, the guard. Blast breathes a curse at his luck, the woman, and the urchins who probably left to get a snack of distract themselves. With a snap of his fingers, he calls an errant silver to his hand--Enough to buy breakfast, how wonderful--and slips back into the shadows of the alley, slinking away into the back streets of the dying city. Vizio's tavern? Probably not worth the risk... He chuckles to himself, realizing that it's as good a lead to work as any--pickings had been slim recently. And Daniel's always going on about the good fight against the shadows... About the same time that Abraham and Chandra return to the main room, the door opens again and another figure steps in. Like Daniel, he isn't very tall, although it's hard to gauge his exact build under his long, broad coat and scarf. He pulls a hood down shortly after entering the room, upon seeing another tiefling seated at the table. It reveals dark red hair, mostly straight and pulled back messily, with a pair of small black horns at the temples and eyes that burn amber even in the dim light of the room. His thin face is pale, sporting short bristles of facial hair and the thin layer of dirt that coats his whole body. He shrugs his shoulders and glances behind him as he shuts the door with a foot, and you notice the collar of his coat is pulled up--hiding most of his face from those not looking directly at him from the front. He reaches up to flip the collar down, hesitates, and then drops his hands, stepping forward after a moment. Giving a nod to those seated, he looks to the bar and sees the glasses and bottle. Holding out his hand, the bottle lifts easily from the bar's surface and sails smoothly into his grasp along with one of the glasses, and he pours himself a drink before sending the bottle back and moving to the table. Seeing the card Chandra had placed, he reaches into a pocket--revealing worn-looking leather armor --and flips out his own invitation before taking a seat. Drumming his fingers on the table, he takes a sip of the wine and gives a small smile to the others. "You all here for a dinner with the lover too, then? She must get around. And I mean really around. Another tiefling? And Daniel, I wouldn't have guessed you'd be her type if I was."
Daniel--sounds fair, and Blast would be willing to assist you on occasion when he isn't busy helping the other urchins and thieves. He preferably hasn't mentioned what exactly was the cause of your shop's destruction, though; he's doing his best to keep the whole "My grandfather's a demon lord and wants me to do stuff for him" thing under wraps. You know how people get when they think you work for a demon lord... Sorry I haven't posted yet, by the way--lost track of the game in the last couple days because it wasn't on my campaigns page yet and I've been busy.
Aristaios, I think that could work well. Blast's gang operates mainly out of the north of the Parego Spera, just south of the separation wall, so there wouldn't have been a lot of interaction and they probably weren't in the same gang. But word would likely spread of a tiefling thief who can pick pockets from thirty feet distant and throw things with his mind, and it's not unbelievable that the groups would work together from time to time. Daniel, while it seems that Blast witnessing the destruction of your own burgeoning alchemist shop is a lot of convenient coincidence--and the entire episode was included for myself as a throwback to Blast's original backstory--I also really like it, as a touch of fate at play in the party, even if it only seems that way, can be extremely interesting.
Posting in to say hello and that I'm looking forward to playing with all of you! I'm posting from a public wi-fi on the road at the moment, but I'll try to check in again tonight to say more and go over if anyone has a potentially linkable backstory.
Loup Blanc here, submitting Blast the tiefling kineticist for your perusal. Everything should be in the profile, let me know if you have any comments, questions, etc. I did take the liberty of taking an "Extra Wild Talent" feat, since it seems highly likely that such a feat will be available with the full release of Occult Adventures; if you'd prefer I switch it out for something else, that's fine, and if when the full book does come out no such feat exists, I can rebuild.
...And it's things like that that make me really want to game with you again, Arkwright! I'll definitely apply for anything you cook up.
I'd like to second everything said above. This has been an amazing game so far, entirely because of you, GM Arkwright. You've pulled it out of the mud several times, let me jump in after two absences, and created this epic scenario... That seems to have sort of died out, sadly. I think this has been a great run, but it's sort of stalled out, and it may be for the best to reboot, as Jelani and Gunser suggest. And I also hope that I can apply to that game.
I'm considering what to go out and buy, having laced that idea in for what the non-brothel-patrons can do.
Meanwhile, at the Hall of Justice (a.k.a. the Defiance): "So, while they're off at the brothel," the tiefling says, tinkering with a vial of what looks like stagnant water, "what should we be doing? Anyone want to go shopping? I can always use more reagents..." His tail flicks, as though agitated, and rubs a spot of dust from the vial.
Hey, everyone, I'm back. Sorry for my absence--it was much longer than intended. I really only was going to be away for a few days as family visited. Then the hammer of life came crashing down--AP tests, school work as the year comes to a close, trying to find a summer job... Things piled up. As such, it's been two weeks since I even got on the forum. Now I'm trying to patch up where I am on these boards, with the games I'm in. I've had to drop a lot of games, but I'd like to stay here, if it's possible. This game has a lot of sentimentality to me--it's the first PbP I got into here--as well as being a load of fun, and I'm enjoying playing a lot. If you'll have me back, I'd love to join in again.
I'm also wondering what exactly to do at the moment with Blast. He would probably be fine doing the Harlot thing, but it's not really something he'd do, y'know? I'll figure something... Meanwhile, I have some family visiting for Mother's Day, so I don't have much time to post. I might get some in at school, but I probably won't be able to post from home for a few days. Please bot me as needed! Thanks.
"I can't be sure on the clothing," Blast says at Naboo's comement, "but it seems to me a 'normal' man would be less memorable than someone like Mirrender or myself."
"If you're worried about appearances, I can brew another extract to disguise you," the tiefling offers.
"I can help with Taurven," Blast says, offering to make more extracts as he had today.
The tiefling grins. "My, what a fine couple of choices. Visit the Starstone, or the local brothel?"
"The Starstone isn't so much guarded as its test is nigh impossible," Blast says to the drow. "For one thing, to reach the building where it's housed, I hear you have to cross a great pit. Unless one of us can fly and hasn't told the others, it seems to me we're stuck without deific power for now."
"Has there ever been a god descended from a demon who favors alchemy?" Blast chuckles. "Something tells me it would take a while to gain any followers."
"You don't have the half of it," Blast remarks with a wry smile at Mirrender's last statement. "Most people don't realize tieflings can be descended from any number of fiends, and we're often separated by generations. They just see a tail and horns and start shouting, 'Demon.'" Of course, in my case they're only a couple generations off.
I've also been busier than usual. And not sure what to do, beyond heading back to the safehouse for the time being?
Blast also climbs up the rope to the rooftop, and sits back from his crouched position after the sudden appearance and disappearance of the creature. "Sorry, sorry--too fast to blow it up." The tiefling shrugs with a small, sheepish grin. "On the upside, we can now take a look at what it left."
"Agreed," Blast says. "I wager across the street would be the easiest option."
Blast hangs back, thinking that tossing bombs might not be good for staying inconspicuous in this city. If our cover stays at all.
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