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Nibs frowns, perhaps unwilling to speak directly in front of the abbess. He casts a spell and whispers to the group in turn. "Maybe," he murmurs through his message spell. "If they aren't touching gnomes or ratfolk, that might imply that gnomes or ratfolk are responsible. I can speak to some of my contacts, but I doubt they'd tell me anything. Someone more, uh, personable might better convince them to talk."
Nibs reunites with his familiar and sniffs the air experimentally before proceeding, trying to remain close to the shadows when possible.
Nibs nods acknowledgement of Elara's suggestion, and casually moves closer to Rayna. His eidolon follows, staying close to Nibs . Nibs casts message to facilitate communication between himself and his familiar, who he leaves at the back.
Nibs continues to follow behind the group with his two companions, doing his best to look inconspicuous. He hopes if anyone takes an interest that potential enemies will believe he and his ratlike friends are stalking the others.
Nibs overhears Elara asking the guide about the dangers ahead and pricks up his ears, his nose twitching.
I'm going out of town for a long weekend, and my internet access will be spotty on just my phone. I should be back to full posting strength on Sunday evening.
Nibs and his posse hang back to watch the proceedings from a respectable distance, though he is more concerned with watching others to make sure that no one else is taking an interest in the party.
Nibs accompanies the others, hanging back a little so that it looks like he's following them rather than traveling with them. His stomach rumbles slightly at the smells of Potatoes n' Pies, but he endures.
Nibs follows, taking a position with Jacques at the back of the party. He decides to let Bower come along, but cautions his familiar to stay behind him and keep to the shadows when possible.
Nibs nods. "It might be that we can discover some information that we can then put together as a group afterward." He sighs. "I suppose I will have to leave Bower behind-- I do not want to draw undue attention to us, and though you are mighty you are quite memorable my friend. Jacques can be summoned and unsummoned as necessary, of course."
Nibs seems indifferent to where he stays, and waits in the dining room while everyone else gets settled. "The church seems like a sensible place to start," he says.
Nibs looks up the stairs with a hint of nervousness, but gamely leads his followers up.
Nibs's familiar has scent, so he might be able to track things if the trail is relatively fresh.
Nibs winces. "Uh, far be it for me to correct your speech, but if you call me 'Mister' or 'Sir' Nibs in public, you'll certainly draw attention, and if you call me that in private I will want to claw my own ears off. Thanks for the honor you intend to do me by using a title, but really just 'Nibs' is fine. I hope you won't feel offended if I similarly use only your given names, at least in private. We rarely use titles among my people, so it is sort of a compliment to you if I don't, like we are friends or family. If you'd prefer I didn't, well, I'll try to remember."
Nibs slinks into the carriage with his familiar and his eidolon hovering around him seemingly for protection, and has obvious trepidation about the journey as his fur is ruffled and trembles as they start moving. He alternates between watching the others and what he can see of the view out the windows. He looks back as introductions are made, and sighs to himself. In answer to Felix he says "You could call us 'furries'?" His eidolon snickers again, and he bares his teeth slightly as a sort of half-smile. "We usually simply say 'ratfolk'-- either plural or singular-- and ignore the grammatical problems that causes. It's better than 'vermen' or 'ratmen'. If you really want to impress us for some reason, use 'people'." Later, he continues. "I suppose in the interest of our new partnership, I should present the rest of my little coterie. As a ratfolk, I am always more comfortable in a swarm, so to speak. My eidolon, who I often refer to as my valet, is named Jacques." He points to the otherworldly creature that looks almost a twin of Nibs, who bows floridly. Then Nibs indicates the rat next to him that is slightly bigger than he is. "And this stalwart creature is Bower." Bower doesn't bow. Finally, Nibs looks around at the group through narrowed eyes. "Do you want me to use your titles when I address you, milords and miladies, or may I use a more familiar mode when we are alone? Also, should I pretend I can't hear you when you're whispering to each other?"
"We will certainly attract attention," Nibs mutters, "But maybe that's a good thing. If some of us are loud and noticeable, others of us may be able to recognize who wishes to avoid their scrutiny."
Feeling somewhat mystified, Nibs accepts the key. He looks over the sketches of the orphanage, Sir Volg, and Halftown.
Nibs chokes slightly when Emilia clarifies that it is one thousand gold each, rather than divided among the five of them. (He's obviously not got much of a poker face.) He clears his throat in a poor attempt to cover his initial reaction and looks around at the others to see if they are similarly surprised and impressed.
Nibs follows up the ladder. When offered food this time, he huffs slightly and looks at his two companions before crossing to the divan and perching on it-- his twin beside him and his familiar curled up before him. He takes several sandwiches into his tiny hands and distributes them among the three, almost devouring one himself. As he licks the crumbs off of his fingers, he looks sideways at Lord Felix when the bard casts a spell. His manner is that of one who is curious what sort of magic Felix could be doing but obviously not knowledgeable enough in spellcraft to recognize the words and gestures.
(It is apparent to Felix and Elara if they care to look that Nibs has overheard the whispering, for he looks immediately at their host and his eyes narrow as if to say Oh, that's what she is. He makes no apparent effort to hide his thoughts, as if he doesn't think anyone would be interested.) "You require all of our talents, Lady Vosk?" he asks quietly. "Or are some of us more perishable than others?" His nose twitches as he cranes his neck slightly to look around at the medium-sized humanoids. "Uh, forgive my directness, ma'am, but in my experience people usually want my kind not to participate in their affairs." The otherworldly ratfolk sitting next to him snickers at this.
Nibs ponders what the noblewoman tells them, unsure of what 'talents' he might have that would be useful to her purposes, whatever they may be. When she asks them to follow, he shrugs with a quick look to his companions, and waves his hand to decline candlerods. He is surprised that several of the others present are familiar with alchemy, and almost speaks up to discuss one of his favorite subjects, but thinks better of it and clamps his jaw shut.
He shivers slightly when she hints that there are bats large enough to threaten a creature of his smaller stature, but he straightens himself proudly and steps forward to show that he is not afraid. The second ratfolk that looks like his twin follows him closely, almost circling him like a mirror image spell, and his rat familiar (who is slightly bigger than he is) crawls behind him as closely as it can. All three puff themselves up slightly and bare their teeth as if to frighten the dire bats into seeking other prey, should they be hungry. Nibs's twin has a particularly impressive set of fangs that flash white in the dim light.
He notes their host's golden eyes, unusual for humans, and wonders what it means. Perhaps she is some sort of shifter, he thinks. The magic of lycanthropes isn't something I've heard much about, but it could explain why the Vosks have deep insight into subjects hidden from the rest of us.
Nibs sniffs, reluctant from years of training to refuse free food, but still nervous. He involuntarily licks his lips and his whiskers twitch. He seems to be practiced at making himself unobtrusive, even with his ratlike companions hovering close. He watches those assembled, his eyes flicking back and forth, and waits for their host to elaborate.
Nibs crouches back behind the others, as far back as he can be without leaving the room, trying to hide within his black half-cloak and hood. He sniffs the air anxiously and seems like he doesn't know what to do with his hands. (He still believes his presence here is some sort of mistake, and is hesistant to draw too much attention until he knows where he stands.) Two other rat-like figures crouch behind him, one with a faintly glowing rune upon his forehead (similar to the one that Nibs has on his own forehead) and the other more closely resembling a dire rat in chain barding. They all look at each other with worried expressions and fidget slightly.
Do you want us to make up our family crests? If so, I guess Nibs's sigil would have six tails knotted in the middle on a gray field with a golden crown just above the knot. His particular device would probably have the crown in black rather than gold. The Rat King is known for overseeing the underworld, such as it is, and mostly trades in secrets. It is said that agents of the Rat King can hear everything that is going on in the realm, and sell this valuable information to the highest bidder. They are not generally considered nobles in the same category as those in the human realm, and the Rat King is very sensitive about that. To prove that he is just as capable of fulfilling noble obligations, he has sent his sixth son Nibs to represent him on this little mission.
Hi everyone! Glad to be here. |
