Naomi Ravasz's page

Didn't have a buffs section in the header, but it's there now.
Images?: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Naomi's pretty face contorts with disfavor at the lights.
"Fey or some sort of specter no doubt. The only thing worse than one is the other."

"Mm. Lady Shadowfall? Did you happen to have a cosmetic enchantment to cover a scar on your neck? If so, you might wish to reapply it, and if not... I do detest ghosts so."

Naomi sighs before donning a mask of sorrow. "Such spectral activities often portend ghosts and other specters. It is truly sad that he experienced sufficient anguish to be so bound."

"This is what comes of reading books. Trying to lock away all the secrets and knowledge of the world in there as though it's any safer or more secure than your purse."

"Oh, does that mean there's not a ghost?" Naomi brightens. "I do so hate personally dealing with them. Normally I have to entice some likely group of heroes if I want one of them dealt with."

"Mmm?" Naomi lazily responds. "I believe Gaetane planned to help us investigate this mysterious curse. Thence on to Daggermark or Gliocas or wherever we determine is most suitable, isn't that right dear?"

Naomi arches an eyebrow drily at Senna's wit. "Well, since we're now talking about ancient curses, rather than Pitaxian weapons, there are a few events that could have produced such a thing.

"However, there was also a beautiful water spirit named Evindra who dwelt in a subterranean pool somewhere below the abbey, and it was through her grace and advice that the priests were able to brew such potent alcohol. Perhaps years of abandonment have turned her grace to grotesquerie? This is all rumor of course, but from such seeds the truth often sprouts."

Naomi's wide eyes are a mask of innocence as she looks up at Chrysa. "And betray the trust so fulsomely and readily bestowed upon me by Her Excellency? Nay, nay, how could I show my face, how could I speak my name aloud were I to repay her warmth and solicitude so incompletely? A warning brought nearly too late? Aid in disarming a trap set for my own person? Until I have performed deeds that Her Excellency will hold in her thoughts and heart eternal, how should I flee? Even with such a gallant guard at my side it is not to be countenanced."

The herald had quite fallen out of her thoughts, but Mila's fierce insistence draws forth a small smile and Naomi's attention. "Let her serve as our own herald with her very survival as our proclamation. Strip her of the arms that she bore against us and used to draw our lifesblood by means of subterfuge, but yes, let her retain her life. How not?"

I don't think I agree that he'd be struggling not to attack everyone else btw. He's a mercenary whose been granted quarter after a job went wrong by a trusted friend who had been on the other side. For a mercenary that's not even an outcome that requires magic to be plausible, we just happen not to have been friends before the battle began.

Naomi dismisses the herald from her thoughts, and favors Gaetane with a warm smile. "Well dear. Why don't you fill me in on anything you know about this mysterious curse, and then let's go on and investigate it, hmm? Once my other friends are prepared of course. This does seem like something that all of us can agree should be dealt with, and of course I wouldn't suddenly ask you to fight against any of your former compatriots." Her face draws up in a moue of sorrow. "I know what a messy business that can be."

"So, Sir Donovan. Can we trust that the injuries to our persons will first be put to rights?"

If needed
Charisma: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

"Dear, if you try to carry out that job you will promptly be slain. You gave it your best shot - far better than most in such a circumstance could have arranged. Is it really reasonable to ask more of you than that?"

"Now," she pitches her voice to project a skosh more than is purely conversational for the herald's benefit, "As someone who worked closely with King Irovetti, I feel it's only fair to you to make it quite clear that the only loyalty he values is that of a thrall to its master. The treacheries I have seen him prepare would shock you to your core. Most recently of all, of course, being, in the political, his viciously unprovoked invasion of Gliocas, and in the personal, sending me off to Gliocas as a sacrifice to bait his unworthy trap. Were it not for the evenhandedness, wisdom, and welcoming nature of their Prime Minister, then Irovetti's base mendacity would have seen me executed for his lies.

"Even should you keep troth with him, ultimately you are a disposable toy to a tyrant such as he. Should you not consider that other paths might be more fruitful?"

Diplomacy to Influence the Herald's attitude: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (14) + 22 = 36 If her Charisma is <24 that should make her Indifferent, but only Unfriendly if her Charisma is up to 33

She smiles back at the wererat. "Now, we've already established that you've done your level best to fulfill your contract, up to the very point of your own demise. I expect that sees your end of that bargain fulfilled, yes? However, if Irovetti feels vengeful as is so common and wishes to lash out at those who served him best, then it would be best to be beyond his reach. Why don't you tell me and my friends what you know about this place? Are there other guards? Other threats? What is this weapon that is supposed to be concealed here? I promise you we will secure you an appropriate place within Gliocas for your deeds; you will be safe from Irovetti. Oh, and do introduce yourself to them, Dear. Manners after all."

In a hasty blur of motion, Naomi flits over the smoldering corpses of the Pitaxian ambushers, letting fall one rod from her hand and drawing another from her belt.

"There's no need to be so judgmental, so final in all of this. We could have been friends back in Pitax, if I looked for different traits in friends. But there's still time to forge a friendship, don't you think?"

Move, Glare at the archer, Persistent Charm Monster DC 23 with a -4 on the save. (Also: a -3 to SR, and the DCs of spells; and the next two times someone hits him before my next turn he takes an extra 6 damage (and 1 bleed). He will also take a DC 23 Will save or be confused for 1 round. If so, then he rolls twice and I pick the result.

Priority is: Attack Nearest (if guaranteed to be an enemy) -> Hit himself -> Babble -> Attack Nearest (with no guarantee) -> Act Normally

Naomi staggers back from the vicious blow, a look of honest emotion on her face as she whips her own blade into line, seizes control of the fool's mind, and skewers them.

Rapier: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (9) + 19 = 28
Piercing: 1d6 + 9 + 6 + 4d6 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 6 + (1, 4, 3, 5) = 33 And 4 Bleed
Rapier: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (17) + 14 = 31
Piercing: 1d6 + 9 + 6 + 4d6 ⇒ (5) + 9 + 6 + (6, 6, 1, 1) = 34 And 4 Bleed
And the Warden then takes a DC 23 Will save at a -4 or is confused for 1 round. They roll twice and I choose. Preference is: Hit themself -> Babble -> Attack Nearest -> Act Normally
Then 5' back

I can't see if there are open doors or other things the spell would go into, so my radius might not be quite right, but I did my best on Roll20.

Naomi quietly tuts as she strolls up towards the fray. Her eyes lock on the foremost assailant as they yell at Senna. "A lot of crimes in tattooing, is it?"

There's so much sound and fury and confusion in the fray already, it takes very little for Naomi to simply nudge things farther in that direction with a few sharp jabs...

Confusion DC 25 (gaining the pain descriptor). The closest one takes a -4 to Will Saves, and a -3 to SR, and any spell DCs until Naomi stops toying with them. Any of them that pass their saves take Nonlethal: 1d6 ⇒ 1 and are sickened for 1 round.

If Tikroch's about to attack, then Naomi will confuse after he goes so they don't just all attack him.

Naomi smiles prettily up at Tikroch and the rest. "If we simply want them dead there may be someone more suited, but if we would rather have what information they might possess, then perhaps I should go for a walk?"

Didn't quite have time to edit in the appendix here:

Escorted by Galgra Goldbeard, the treasurer, Naomi makes her way through Gliocas, helping where it's within her skill set, and being guided by them to where they might best help. She also can't help but nudge Galgra into helping her speak with various notables about who might have the sort of answers she's looking for. And of course, even in the midst of horrors, there's time to make an impression on Galgra themself. She has no intention of plundering the treasury or convincing Galgra to do so on her behalf, but the more people she has a pleasant working relationship with the better, and it's past time she continued with the court here.

However, despite her only outward goals being to comfort the afflicted, and perhaps gain the ear of local guard officers, mercenary captains, and local therianthropic scholars, her previous visit does mean that some of the Gliocasians are aware of her recent Pitaxian position.

"Don't trust her! She's one of those devils from Pitax! Venomous as any wyvern!"

Naomi looks up, distress visible on her face. Some of the people she's been helping and conversing with start to murmur, which she immediately responds to as though their uncertainty had already solidified into a defense. "No no my friends, he is right. I did serve Pitax, to my shame, and worse, the tyrant Irovetti, damned be his name and accursed his memory, used me as a means of disguising this Treachery. Already had I planned to leave the service of a man so lacking in decency, so profligate in his outrages, and I was so moved by the beauty and harmony of your fair nation that I had quite determined to quit Pitax and make a home here, only returning at the side of your champions that I might make a suitably honorable departure from the villain-king's grasp.

"Yet at that tournament, Irovetti's infamy surprised even me! Shielded by my ignorance of his treachery, he invited the worthies of our lands only to hide his underhanded assault. Rest assured, the guests of other lands will surely hear of this and know not only of his ill faith, but also of the rot and weakness at his core that will surely lead to his ouster when justice is served. And my friends, if I may be so fortunate as to call you friends, as soon as I learned of his treacherous aims, no sooner could I speak with the Lady Shadowfall, but that I brought warning of his deeds, and sought to see her returned while she could still turn the tide of this battle and bring her allies to bear." A tear slides down her face, and she turns to Galgra for their support. "I only regret that I did not learn sooner. For if I had, then surely would we have struck a righteous blow together ere the army of Irovetti the Infamous came to your walls. "

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (18) + 22 = 40 There's a little embroidery, but this is essentially true, especially the thrust of 'I tried guys!'

"Hmm... not many largish bands of lycanthropes running around who are personally formidable enough to prove a true threat. A single champion could possibly go unnoticed, but it might be worth asking around to see if any of those have disappeared from their haunts or taken up service with His Magnificence..."

Naomi is well skilled at raising morale when she wishes too, partially through her quick-witted charm, but her psychic abilities also extend to relieving the misery of those she comes into contact with. The frightened and rattled can easily have their frantic minds quieted with but a touch. And of course, conversation with a charming stranger can be a true balm in times of stress as well...

Gather Information: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (19) + 22 = 41 Looking for rumors as to who is a local expert on lycanthropes and/or bandit/mercenary companies.

Naomi, hoping to avoid round after round of questioning and repetition, gives Mila a grateful smile. "Yes, quite. Though the details are rather scanty thus far, they should certainly suffice to permit us greater understanding in time."

As soon as she's freed from the king's observation, Naomi rushes back to her charges, posture primly together, but her steps far quicker than propriety would recommend.

"My congratulations my congratulations, My Lady Shadowfall, gentles, but I am afraid I come bearing tidings that are not quite so glad. I fear His Magnificence has acted with great belligerence, and if his aggression is to be thwarted we must act. Now. He has launched an attack on your capital that he boasts will leave it in cinders, and even now prepares a weapon he believes should prove decisive within Whiterose Abbey. I have some trifling acquaintance with magical abilities, but I lack the power to whisk us across such a distance. Can any of you manage this?"

Bluff: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (19) + 23 = 42
Bluff: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (13) + 23 = 36
Bluff: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (17) + 23 = 40

Irovetti was at his most dangerous when he suspected treachery, particularly when that was what you were in fact committing. As Naomi makes her way to the celebration along with the royal entourage, she prepares herself to Slip Bonds with some light autohypnosis, and otherwise maintains absolute focus on her liege lord.

Swapping her implanted trick and activating her Stare, neither of which has manifestations

"Rather poor form, if I may comment Your Magnificence. If the day is lost why sully our own reputation to back a warrior already rabid with failure?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (13) + 22 = 35

Naomi makes her way over to Annamede and Chrysa with a gentle sway, face drawn up in a sorrowful moue. "You poor dear. It's so good of you to put on such a brave face." She gives Annamede a quick embrace, then halfway releasing her she turns to face Chrysa. "I trust you haven't made the error of esteeming our Annamede lightly, my lady? Where her ire is truly aimed, her chosen targets will always find that no matter their swords, her pen is mightier. An important friend to have and hold close against all misfortunes."

Watching Ankus's performance with slowly spreading condescension, Naomi excuses herself a moment to discreetly message Chrysa.

"Pardon me, My Lady Shadowfall, but I thought that you might be interested to know that his rotundity here has perhaps spent more time preparing his audience than his material - particularly one member of his audience who is taking it upon himself to bolster this blaggard, even should it cross the lines of propriety and fair play. Yes that one, in the overwrought shade of plum."

In the shady shadows

Annamede, the Pitaxian boaster, is socializing near the royal pavilion with other rabble-rousers. When she sees Naomi, she brightens up. An attractive woman in her late 20s, human, seemingly mostly Chelaxian - she was a graduate of the academy in Oppara and was a writer of satirical plays that transitioned into a comedian and then actress.

Naomi's smile upon seeing Annamede is equally dazzling, her eyes locking with the local celebrity as she hastens near. "Anna my love! How is it that the years carve only greater beauty from your features, but leave me scarce touched? Such jests surely show the inconstant and cruel nature of the gods and greater beings." She air-kisses Annamede's cheeks. "How fair you? Force me not to rely on tawdry rumor and scandalmonger's invective, I pray you."

Here be Naomi's roll to Influence Annamede's attitude

Once they've caught up, Naomi asks, "Has his Magnificence yet summoned you to impress his desperation, modest and kingly though it be, that you triumph in today's challenge?" She rolls her eyes with a gentle smile, only the slightest hint of mockery on her lips. "It is interesting, is it not, that in a contest of puffed up egos and the skewering thereof, it may not be any of the contestants who feel most exposed?" She laughs, visibly coming upon an idea for the first time. "Why if by some mischance your taunts tripped off the tongue to a lesser clamor than they had earned, then all would know that Annamede and her long tail of triumphs were still to be esteemed. But our noble king? Embarrassment, apoplexy, perhaps even dyspepsia would surely fall upon him in such an unhappy world. For he does so claim the deeds of his subjects as his own - as is surely his right as the master of us all. Even in his pique though, I know that his Magnificence, wroth though he be, would still find himself all but helpless against the gleeful bonds of true friendship in which you should doubtless find safe harbor"

Then the Secret Message and the Request

Annamede replies mischievously, ”Nothing of consequence. I have some new plays in the works - I’ve been trying to recruit new performers from elsewhere, but it has been a struggle. You’ve been outside of Pitax, yes? We can’t escape the rumors.” She sighs theatrically, and listens carefully as Naomi explains in her typical way the situation. Naomi notices that some of the actors and writers gathered around seem nonplussed by Naomi’s florid language, but Annamede takes it in stride, ”You speak carefully, but the King is distracted by his toys.” And her eyes flit over to where Irovetti is, indeed, messing with one of his Numerian gadgets after the royal party has eaten their lunch.

Annamede looks carefully at Naomi’s expression, and seems to be thinking, ”How interesting - I hadn’t thought you cared so much about these games, Naomi.” She shrugs, ”Well, I always try to challenge myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She inclines her head and dismisses her compatriots, retiring herself to her own tent elsewhere.

Make an Impression: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (7) + 22 = 29
Pass a Secret Message: 10 + 23 = 33
Make a Request: 1d20 + 22 ⇒ (17) + 22 = 39 -2 DC

Leaning over to Irovetti at a moment of opportunity, Naomi murmurs, "Well shot, I'm afraid by Gliocas' champion. No noodle arms to be found there. While they prepare the next event, Your Magnificence, should I perhaps perambulate? If she did anything untoward, this is when she'll think she's hoodwinked you, and even if not, I would be remiss if I did not pay heed to the murmurs of your subjects."

Before Naomi rejoins the official representatives, she catches up with Senna where she trails. "So, Ms. Proviso, Senna, you're new to Pitax, are you not? I expect that the life of a traveling tattooist must have given you a wealth of simply fascinating tales, and I would simply adore it if I could learn of them." She gives Senna a dazzling smile. "Shall we? No wine tastes better than when it's bought with someone else's coin; having a drink or two while still earning Lady Shadowfall's coin would be even sweeter."

Naomi makes her apologies to Chrysa and her retainers as she hangs back for a private moment with her own erstwhile employer.

"My most fulsome apologies, Your Magnificence. Her Excellency's mind was simply too staid and stolid for me to budge." A thought seems to strike her as she stares closely at Irovetti. "Or perhaps it is that even the reflected glory of true monarchy has bolstered her abilities? I have never succeeded before in bending even the least of kings to my will, after all."

She smiles, that thought floating away to the farthest corners of her mind. "To guide your distinguished guests and advise them of local curiosities is of course a more than sufficient task than many to which I might be put, but now that I am here, returned to the beating heart of civilization, and pretenders' ears are deaf to my meaning, is there some other service I may perform for you, Your Magnificence?"

Linguistics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

"As you say, Your Magnificence, the utmost pinnacle beyond all other possible superlatives." Naomi agrees, purposefully not trying to be the focal point in a meeting that is notionally between two other parties.

Sipping daintily at a glass of white, Naomi waits for her next cue, explaining, "His Magnificence is most magnanimous in extending the protections of lese-majesty to other river kings, even those who fear they are unable to bear the weight of a crown and its attendant demands of regality and self knowledge."

Naomi smiles prettily but blandly as Irovetti speaks with the visiting dignitaries. If there's one time he won't spring anything it's during introductions. His own offhand remark to her is answered with a respectful bow of her head. She prays forgiveness Your Magnificence, but as a minister to her people, rather than the prerogatives due to one who wears the crown, she instead must give in to duty where stronger leaders would persist."

"Ah well," Naomi replies lightly, as though her whole expression weren't a moue of disappointment. "I had hoped that we could leave even this first encounter with firmer footing, but I understand the value of time and patience. I pray you, as I must continue to feign service to His Magnificence in small matters while I attempt to unveil and ward you from larger ones, continue to forgive me my little barbs; you can simply act as if you never noticed them at all."

Her decision finally made, Naomi relaxes her inner eye, allowing Chrysa's magic to flow freely and her mind's defenses to replace themselves unbreached.

"A true pleasure to meet with you thus, My Lady Shadowfall. May our furthered relationship prove ever fruitful."

She kisses the champion's hand once more in farewell, then sees about securing lodgings for the future.

They offer trust, and such shall they receive.

Still, every day that she sends in Gliocas means new friends, new friends who find themselves with thoughts and inclinations carefully sown to be harvested later at need. [i]"I should send a letter to Naomi; she'd want to hear about interesting goings on" "If I ever see her in trouble, I should do what I can to help" "She's a prankster is that Naomi, if I see her acting suspicious, I should keep my mouth shut - I wouldn't want to spoil the joke..."

Naomi habitually Sows Thoughts in a few people each night... just in case.
Scene?

***
Pitax
Naomi watches her new confidants interact with the strange tattooist, Senna getting a piercing glare once Naomi fulfills her curiosity and notices the layered magical auras. "Remember dear gentles, we cannot tarry overlong without presenting offense to our Magnificent host?"

Then, politely stepping back from their conversation, she sidles up to Mila. "You mind offering your read of her? Just as a matter of professional courtesy, you understand."

At Gliocas

"My apologies, Madam Ambassador." Chrysa says with the same irrelevance as Naomi "Titles are only important to get people's attention, which is unnecessary for you." a compliment stated as a simple fact.

In the room, she listens attentively. Stepping away from the wall, Chrysa moves around the room, adjusting nik naks that Soph collected or made. "I met your lord once. He invited a group of 'like minded' rulers of the River Kingdoms for a social gathering. That was before I decided to merge the Fall with this land, of course. Soph is anything but like minded with Castruccio Irovetti."

Turning back to the Ambassador "I will attend. The question of security was a formality. The real question is why do you feel the need to travel here to present the invitation, to 'a country is still too new ... to be particularly relevant'?"

"Ah," Naomi's laugh is smoky and low, "you misunderstand. Your country is too new for promises made to benefit Sophiel's successor. I don't claim to understand all the factions that have joined here, but I do know that there are too many of them to make for unity in the face of sudden opportunity and tragedy. Far better to keep her safe, and therefore keep your young country... relevant."

She quirks her lips in a crooked smile, "Even if I helped Irovetti to succeed here, it will not be long before his reach exceeds his grasp. Why not seek a new position where my talents will be better appreciated, and my new ruler be less of a fool?"

Naomi leans in, no humor in her eyes as she makes her offer plain. "His Magnificence has not informed me of all his plans for this tourney, only that he wishes your presence. Come, let me help you foil what schemes he attempts to unravel and display his villainy, and still more damning, his failure before the other River Kings. Then you may deal with him as you wish, for who would make good their alliance to one who invites such disasters upon himself?"

Gliocas

"As I speak here as the voice of my king, it would be Your Excellency, or perhaps Madame Ambassador, rather than Ms. Ravasz, but that couldn't possibly be of any importance," Naomi corrects with an impish grin. "I'm so charmed that you jump straightaway to informalities as though we're already fond friends. I do hope that means you'll forgive me my wickedness?"

Naomi keeps up her courtly patter until she is within the room. She examines the room herself with an apologetic smile and then begins. "Now, you were inquiring as to what guarantees of safety could be offered? I'm afraid this country is still too new for those to be particularly relevant. If Sophiel is removed it will almost certainly prove sufficiently disruptive that any costs that could be extracted from Irovetti would not prove sufficiently prophylactic.

"So, yes, guarantees. None Irovetti would give you would be of any worth, but fortunately, your foe acting in such a way as to make your most skillful agents and ministers seek additional options does present options beyond placing trust in His Magnificence."

Naomi smooths out her skirts, carefully not reaching too close to the blade at her side. Glancing up she fixes Chrysa with a piercing sidelong gaze. "You should still attend the tourney though."

"Your excellency is most wise, and it is a true wonder to see that your vaunted openness truly extends even into the heart of your study, despite your previous... setbacks." Exactly on cue, Naomi's eyes flash to the bloodstain, and then back again, her warm smile never wavering.

"Though, His Magnificence will no doubt be grievously wounded by your absence, I am certain that Gliocas will stand well represented while you tarry in such offal matters. Your forbearance and abstemiousness will no doubt be spoken of as truly befitting your manner of leadership. I fear that there are certain private matters of security that would not be appropriate for the ears of those who are in the habit of stereotyping secrets as far as their broadsheets may be carried.

"Should I speak of those matters with our baroness, whose wit and effervescence surely holds every sparkling mote of golden beauty that her name suggests, but her locks lack?" Naomi favors Chrysa with a gleaming smile, and moves to plant a chaste kiss upon the back of her glove. "Please My Lady Shadowfall, lead on."

Back in Gliocas

"Greetings and good fortune to you, your majesty," the richly, but tastefully dressed emissary from Pitax offers her courtesies, "and assembled worthies. I am Naomi Ravasz of Pitax, diplomatic minister both extraordinary and plenipotentiary, and I bear an invitation from His Supreme and Inimitable Magnificence, Castruccio Irovetti, by the grace of the gods the rightful king of Pitax, Marvel of Numeria, Master of Mormouth, and Prince Regent of the Sellen. His Magnificence bids you welcome to the Jewel of the River Kingdoms that you might celebrate and compete in this, his Rushlight Tournament. Witness and indulge in the wonder and grandeur of Pitax, and it is His Magnificence's fondest hope that this will bring about true amity and bonhomie with his fellow River King who has so ably piloted the ship of state with perspicacity that has captured his admiration from afar."

She rises, scroll and credentials at the ready to present to Sophiel should she request them.

Pitching her voice lower, a warmth bubbles up as Naomi ratchets down her formality, just a skosh. "And if I may, your majesty, it is not only His Magnificence who has become enraptured with the little wonders of your kingdom. I would be honored to serve as your liaison for your journey, and I hope that in so doing, we could form a bond as personal as it is political."