Adolina shakes her head. It's something she probably could learn - her dexterity has always been good and she read a book on the subject once, but it wasn't exactly the kind of thing that Lady Docur's school encouraged in their students so she never tried. How does one even buy lockpicks anyway? The doors swinging open with a crash snap her out of her reverie and Adolina draws her rapier, trying to steal herself for more violence.
A barking sounds rings out from the back of the common room, where a short passageway leads past the kitchen to the tavern's small stables. Standing in the doorway is a scruffy looking figure who seems untroubled by the bits of straw in their dark hair. She (based on the length of the hair if nothing else) lets out another strange bark, which appears to be laughter, and slips between tables to start collecting the tray and tankards which Flori has just deposited all over the floor. Once she has them all, she places them on the end of the bar by the kitchen and nods to Ameiko. "Patches is better. Thanks." She says simply, offering a quick grin which seems to be remarkably full of teeth, before turning to Flori and her ineffective wiping efforts. "Dinner?"
She added the d' to, in her mind (she is "of" the Sarini's), distance herself from her family but isn't above using it to her own ends. I did it because it's better italian/latin, whic also explains her name being Jhaltera rather than Jhaltero. Of course absolutely no problems with you referring to her however you please in game. 'Lady Jhaltero' would be quite obvious enough. :) As for the masked persona rules, I'm aware of them too. I wouldn't start with it, but once the rebellion really takes off and she'd have the chance to really step into the Mastermind side I'd consider it or something similar. Thanks for clarifying with the archetypes (and for letting me ditch alchemy!), I'll get to work on the crunch.
"Excuse me, why are you shouting so loudly?" River asks, cocking her head to one side. "I think everyone can hear you. Unless they're deaf. Oh, are you deaf? Sorry that won't work. ?" She adds at a much greater volume before retreating to her normal volume. "I like tea as well. But the water has to be just the right temperature. That's very important. Tea is the perfect balance of elements. Fire to heat Water. Flavour of earth rising on air. We should make tea together!" The idea seems to excite the strange elen and she bounces from foot to foot in obvious, childlike excitement.
River slips away from the conversation. Too many people and too much noise makes her head spin and things are moving all too fast at the moment. Besides, Gull is here and spending time with him always makes her feel better. So away she goes, following the tug from the center of her being and the ghostly sensation of fingers in her hair. When she finds the young elen she folds herself into a sitting posture next to him and wraps him in a hug - as much for her own sake as his. Silence. Peace.
I just don't have much to offer in these scenes. :) Cyrene by design isn't a 'get up to the front of the group and talk' kinda person. I think it makes perfect sense that Lope and Diana are the group faces - those are the people that would be expected to do all the talking so it makes sense. Now we're out of the council chambers I can have a bit more to offer, but there's only so many ways to post "Cyrene lurks anonymously at the back of the group". [Please not this is definitely not a criticism - you guys are all doing great! This is purely the result of my choices :)]
River watches the entire conversation with confusion writ large on her fine-boned features. Lacking any sense of what is going on she shifts from foot to foot behind Benedetto until the strangest elen says something that makes her react. "Cauldron Lady bad!" She declares. "Taking people and hurting them! No bloodshed, no hate! Not the way to make Hearth strong against Moon. You have to stop now."
Her words are unexpected, impassioned and delivered at the exact worst moment possible.
River shrinks back against the walls as the other elen appear and start discussing in loud voices. If it was an attempt at stealth it fails rather badly - an elen as pale as she is will always be noticeable in the dark. Outside among the snow her white hair would blend in perfectly but down here... Despite her apparent reticence to speak it is easy to see that River is poised for confrontation - her balance perfect as her eyes flit across everyone in the conversation. Once fire is mentioned she twists one slender wrist and water wells up into an orb that floats above her outstretched palm. "River." She says simply. "We help. Cauldron Temple is wrong. We should stop it."
"Keep going." River says softly as the sylph stumbles. "You can do this. Follow me. The wind is close now."
She hurries onwards, keeping his frail hand in her own cold one and setting a pace just short of what she thinks he can manage.
River throws out blasts of water instinctively as the torches turn to threatening shades of black.
In PF2 they've changed that so that changelings can be both genders - that may simply be Paizo's general drive to "all gender inclusivity" but it allows for some more flexibility on the RP-ing front if its desired. I should probably put some thought into Cyrene and potential evolution. She's done enough in this book that things might be changed a little. Finally, many thanks to GMFangDragon, you're doing an excellent job to keep up such a consistent game and I'm very much enjoying it. This is my second time playing through the AP and you're making the story your own wonderfully (and dealing extremely well with my splitting the party!). Thank you very much for all your hard work!
That's true! :D
"It is water." River says, sounding confused. "You can drink it." She looks around, obviously trying to find something and eventually locates a wooden cup lying forgotten under the jailer's table. She swipes it through the hovering ball and offers the now full cup to Aisling, each movement perfectly graceful and precise. "Water."
"Tell her." River says gently, turning Gull towards Dowanhowee. "She can help." Then she flows gently from his grip and races outside with unnatural speed. Dancing across the branches she races for Chasso. "You need to jump!" She calls. "This way. Now."
River meanwhile doesn't sleep again that night, watching over Gull and thinking long and deeply in the darkness. She watches Drook and Benedetto without comment and doesn't speak until they are done. "Is Volcano bad now?" The simple question is obviously a layered one. What will we do next? Should we trust Dove? all sit behind it, but her smooth and open face watches Benedetto with every appearance of calm.
Echoing Weapon
With Vy calling her target Von does what she needs to - striding into the three goblins with her shield ready. As the left-most goblin flinches from the arrow she lashes out and then turns immediately on the others. "I warned you." She says sternly.
There's a noise like a cat is being slowly mutilated and Sariana puts the violin down, looking somewhat embarassed. She hands the instrument to Tandri without another word and marches out of the inn, clearly intent on never referring to that... incident EVER AGAIN. Her Little One's idea is a good one though, so she heads to the mayor's house (or what looks like it) and tries to decide if a necromancer is going to be a problem or not. She has a healthy respect for that particular branch of magic, and her girls will be almost uniquely vulnerable if they go delving and find something that they shouldn't. But necromantic traps will do no harm at all... The avaricious part of her mind whispers.
13 Gennaio 794 "Well ladies, it seems that we have plenty to do." Violetta says coolly as the ladies take a short turn around Lady Calliope's exquisitely manicured gardens. "Kyra, Liz, you two head to the Arbor. We need a lot more information about this situation with the guild. What is the land like? What is it being used for now? Who actually owns it? Who will making the final decision on its use? We need information to apply the right kind of pressure. Try not to meet with the Guild yet, we don't want to promise something we can't deliver. I leave that to your discretion." In her better moments Violetta can recognise her own flaws - she's relentlessly focused but it makes her peremptory and when that happens she sounds like she's dismissing the skills and abilities of the people around her. Thankfully the Hand have been together long enough to understand that it's nothing personal, but she tries to acknowledge their skills and capabilities when she can. It's the effort that counts, right? "Luciana, Sasha, I need you two looking for more details about this situation with the Corvetto's. I'll pay a call on the Prince and try to get anything I can from Giovanni but that isn't likely to pay off. We have a Tomaso of Corvetto and an arbiter with the Bank named Luther. Find them first, perhaps we can arrange a favour and get what we want with a minimum of complexity." The city thrives on complexity, on intrigue and schemes, half of which only exist in the minds of those concocting them but Violetta has found that the way to get things done is very rarely the most complex path. The simple one, relying on the basest of emotions and motives, is far more reliable. "Dinner tonight, I think it's Luciana's turn to choose?" Of course it is, Violetta doesn't make mistakes with details like that. With people yes, but not with facts. "We can feedback then. If you need me before then I'll be in the Pocket." Where else does a hand go when it's at rest? It's a slightly silly nickname for their small house within Bastien's much larger complex but it serves its purpose well enough and there are half a dozen taverns or more with similar names so it has the virtue of anonymity too.
River holds Gull close and gives Gamb a truly ferocious glare. It's the most expression any of you have seen from the strange undine and it's probably a good thing that she isn't an ifrit or Gambino would be a pile of ashes on the floor by now. She follows along behind, whispering to Gull as they go and occasionally looking up to shoot more filthy loks at Gamb's back. At the 'inn' River puts a coin in the ifrit's hand and sweeps Gull towards a corner of the room. She doesn't even look back even when the ifrit opens their hand and reveals a wide silver coin emblazoned with the crowned spire of Light.
The Death of a Salesdwarf: That night, as Tandri finishes up her work she gets a knock at the door and finds her Mistress there, nicely dressed up and with a maid hovering in the background.
"Reinette is going to help you get ready." Sariana says simply. "Floare will meet us for dinner, but tonight is for you and I Sweetling." She ushers the maid in and closes the door. "You have ten minutes, then I'm taking you to dinner naked if you aren't dressed." Dinner proves to be 'out' at a new location near the town hall - its a rather fancier establishment than has previously existed in Stag's End and the three ladies have the place to themselves, cleared for the Lady's visit. Sariana actually eats and is careful to compliment the cooking often, although Floare doesn't consume much - her vampire metabolism is still having trouble with her new diet. So Tandri gets the lion's share of the food, although Sariana does insist that she remove any alcohol effects regularly - apparently she isn't allowed to forget her last night among the living. Afterwards Floare disappears with a smile and kisses for them both and Sariana takes Tandri down a few streets and into a raucous, hot and crowded dancehall. Both women are overdressed but no-one seems to care overmuch as they bump and grind with the rest of the group. Sariana dances possessively and her ferocious eyes drive away anything more than covetous glances when Tandri's delightful scent wends its way across the dancefloor. As they leave Sariana sweeps Tandri off her feet and leaps easily onto the rooftops, running back towards her manor with light steps and great leaps that leave the wind rushing past the tiefling's skin. "We'll run together soon Sweetling." Sari promises before, with one final leap, she soars through a large window that was clearly left open for that purpose and deposits Tandri on their wide bed. "Now I want you. Your scent has been making me crazy all night!" She pounces like a starving animal and doesn't relent until Tandri collapses into unconsciousness - her body worn out with pleasure and delicious pain. Then the Lady of Nightsong drinks deeply and watches silently until her Sweetling's chest rises and falls for the last time. "Goodnight Sweetling." She murmurs, sweeping the body up into her arms and striding for the basement and the hand-carved coffin that awaits Tandri and her new unlife. "I'll see you soon."
As always my friend. Violetta replies, the gentle quirk of her lips saying all that needs to be said. Alisha is probably, almost certainly, her oldest friend. It would take a lot more than a painting or party for there to be anything owed between them, but alas friendship must wait. There is business to be conducted. "Your ancestor was most talented Marquesa." Violetta replies. She tries to speak the truth where she can and Arvaggio was one of the Great Masters of his own, or perhaps any, age. "I am so impressed by the depth of the work. Every time one examines it one sees something that they did not before. It would be a worthy lifetime spent in simply understanding the work, if such a thing could even be achieved. I imagine one could more easily win the Great Game than truly appreciate his artistry." The Marquesa's mouth flaps with preening words and vague platitudes and Violetta listens to the tone rather than the words. Once the tone has fallen a little she steps in once more, redirecting de Scalier's self absorbed bombast for truly important matters. "I believe what made him great was his understanding, don't you my dear Marquesa? Looking at this work I feel that Arvaggio truly appreciated the contrast of light and dark, the danger inherent in both. To stand in the light may seem all well and good from the shadows, but we both know, don't we, that standing in the light makes one a target too, doesn't it?" Violetta slips her arm into the Marquesa's and leads her away from the painting, taking advantage of the long portrait gallery to gain something close to true privacy. "Take House Bastien for example. At last Prince Constantin has led us into the light, the work of a lifetime. Even as close to him as I am it is almost impossible to appreciate the effort, the pains he has taken to achieve it. He is a towering mind, a genius in his way just as your illustrious ancestor was. After all, how many have tried to raise their houses and failed?" It's a light question, at least the way Violetta asks it, but they both know the Marquesa's grandfather on her mother's side - how he lived and how he died. A cautionary tale if ever there were one. "It is a great leap from the Houses Minor to the Esultare." Violetta says, pressing her point home as they reach the far end of the gallery and turn back towards the party once more. "So many people only see the rewards, they just see the light in the painting, but you and I Marquesa, we know that there can be no light without darkness. There are no rewards without risk and great rewards carry even greater risks. A young painter, seeking to make her name, would do much better to apprentice to a master such as Arvaggio rather than attempting to sell her own works on a streetcorner wouldn't you agree? The resources of a masters studio would offer so much more than she could possibly gain on her own and then, once the master has opened doors, given her the opportunities, then that is the time that the artist could display her talents and bring glory to both her own name and her master's. In a way that the talented but headstrong painter on a streetcorner could never achieve - no matter what sweet words might be whispered in her ear." They've almost arrived back at the rest of the party and Violetta stops to admire the painting from a distance. "It is such a masterpiece isn't it?" She muses, before shooting the Marquesa a piercing look. "And worth so much more as a gift given freely than it could ever have been horded as a treasure. A gift given has power, it buys goodwill, encourages favour. It makes friends and as one rises in the Game, they remember those friends and those gifts freely given - far more so than the rivals left behind." Her grey eyes fix the Marquesa in place for a moment as all friendliness drops from her voice. You've had the roses, now for the thorn. "You are a true noblewoman Marquesa de Scalier - I would hate to forget you. Do enjoy the party." She offers a small curtsy and sweeps away, slipping out of the servants door and down a non-descript corridor to the small observation room hidden behind a particularly large landscape of the city two hundred years before. Alisha is already there, watching and she offers a smirk as Violetta steps in beside her, their skirts brushing. The Marquesa is staring at her ancestor's painting and both women can see her hands tightly clenched behind her back. "Thank you for the party Alisha." Violetta says, her lips curving into a thin smile. "I do enjoy seeing things go so well."
I found out that Lope and Voinum were going to be targeted. Evidence from today suggests that Lope is target one, so Cyrene's plan is to wait, foil the attempt on Lope and then, if need be, move on to help Voinum.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
If only. Lucretia and Cesare certainly seem to think that the work is done – swanning around in their new finery, enjoying the invitations to all the parties. Even the Hand have relaxed. Luciana gave up on propriety completely and danced a jig of all things. It was amusing to watch, but it was neither the time nor place so dancing lessons have to be arranged to teach her a lesson. Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Merry meetings indeed, between Conte la Szalar and the Marquessa de Scalier of all people. Well, there’s no accounting for taste, but one does have to account for ambition and there is no doubt that those two nobles in particular have it, all too much of it. A threat? Not truly. Szalar have men, but of no great quality and the Marquessa has almost nothing of value except her own hand in marriage. Not an inconsiderable negotiating tool for sure but, by its very nature, one which will only hold its value once. So not a threat, but quite possibly an opportunity. Bastien has lost a lot to secure this. Yes they have more than ever before but now they sit among the Esultare, the pinnacle of society where wealth has been horded for generations. Where the weak take what they can and give in tribute to the strong. Violetta’s smooth face contorts briefly as Marcello swims across her thoughts. Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
That’s the way to do this – head to the lady’s chamber and deal with the problem there. If Violetta is right, and she’s rarely wrong, then the Marchessa will be the true driving force here and if the rumours about her are true… well then, her hand in marriage might be worth a lot less than everyone thinks. Opportunity. Means and motive. Pressure and response. Tick and tock. Look and leap. These two nobles are looking, eying up a leap that might be glorious but will probably end in a crashing fall. Or they could be persuaded, steered gently to some safer crossing point and there a hand extended, a favour granted and valuable resources secure for Bastien. Yes, that would work well indeed. I am determined to prove a villain,
Nothing is more dangerous than a Key with a plan so Violetta takes a little time, lays her snares more cunningly than any hunter. It is perhaps fortunate that the rest of the Hand are busy on their own errands. Elisabetta, ever dependable Elisabetta, would add a certain solidity to the proceedings, but this is better done quietly, under the cloak of manners and diplomacy so for tonight at least Violetta is on her own. A small soiree, more exclusive than the Marchessa would normally receive an invitation for. Alisha was happy to host, she and Violetta go back a long way, further even than favours for a friend and so, at the opportune moment Violetta will take the Marchessa aside, tangle some tempting bait and see if the fish bites. Action and reaction. Hook, line and sinker.
Turn 29 (Lamashan)
Commerce
Leadership
Region
Civic
------------------------------------------------------------
In Stag's End a fine new embassy takes shape, a place for the diplomats to come and talk, as well as something of an office (and throne room) for Nightsong's grand diplomat. Danteville completes a town hall as the new center of civic pride and Oleg is overwhelmingly voted in as mayor. He immediately refuses the position and (to her surprise but no-one elses) Savannah is voted in with even more votes than Oleg - since he votes for her and lifts her arm so that she votes for herself too! The flood of resources extends to every settlement in the kingdom, for a kingdom it is truly becoming. Greengripe constructs a 'secure facility to hold captured monsters' or a jail if anyone who isn't a goblin asks. Tatzlford gets a new herbalist and an inn springs up in Blomford. Combined with the new farms that Tandri supervises in the heartlands and an experiment in mining the mountains Nightsong expends a truly vast amount of resources and does so with remarkable success. Sariana has good reason to congratulate herself and her citizens as she officially opens the embassy - there are few lands who can match them now.
River meanwhile feeds small portions to Gull, and spends the rest of her time looking around the smoke filled room with wonder and a little revulsion. "Shall we look for the golems now?" She asks once everyone except Gamberino is done.
@Kyra: I think we get to decide if they are or not. ;) The Gloved Hand, unless someone objects? As for our beloved Prince... is this about right for where we are? Constantin, the Old Lion
Change has come slowly, so slowly that Constantin's one lifetime has almost not been enough, but with the fortune that is bestowed only on the lucky or the truly good events conspired to hand Constantin the perfect opportunity. Now he sits among the Esultare, a Prince at last but the Lady always has another cheek and now Constantin's faculties are beginning to fail him. He will live for some time yet and even in death will be remembered as one of the most spectacular individuals for centuries, but much of his legacy is yet to be written, and it may yet be written by others. Cesare, the Butcher of Bastien
Lucretia, Lady of Lusts
Calliope Cagliara, the Crouching Jackal
May I just say congrats to Wastrel - this looks like a thoroughly excellent beginning to the campaign! Should those of us not called out by name be RP-ing right now or not? One is not entirely sure...
GM Wastrel should know better than to expect his players to read everything he writes properly! As for our House.
As Constantin grows older more and more of the house business is conducted through his children, Cesare and Lucretia. Since House Bastien is new and unproven it made sense that Constantin devolve power to his children, those that he can most easily trust, but as he gradually weakens and thoughts turn to the succession both children and beginning to turn their thoughts to their own power in years to come. Cesare lacks his father's subtly but makes up for it in ruthlessness and decision. If he sees weakness, he strikes. If there is an opportunity he exploits it to the full. These traits have served the family well as Cesare has overseen much of Bastien's consolidation and it is under his leadership that the other great houses learned to respect Bastien and their claims. However, they say that when you have a hammer, ever problem looks like a nail and Cesare is the largest hammer of the lot. He favours violence as a problem solving tool and lacks the deft touch of his little sister. That said, few are those who cross Cesare because everyone knows what the result will be. Lucretia, meanwhile, is the epitome of a fine lady. She is shrewd, manipulative and patient. Those who remember Constantin in his youth see a lot of him in cesare, but those who have only known him as the Prince cannot understand why he has not anointed Lucretia as his heir. She reflects the skills he most values - calm, a methodical approach and the courage to hold a high stakes bluff. Unfortunately Lucretia is also profligate and easily subourned. While she is more than smart enough to understand when she is being bribed she often accepts them anyway, happy to take the easier path to profit rather than grind away at hard work. She has a eye for a scheme, which serves her well, and the timing to enact them, but what appears to outsiders to be patience is often merely inattention and those close to the Prince whisper that he fears his daughter would sell the house to the highest bidder where she offered enough wealth - and she certainly would be. Cesare currently holds the title of major-domo, but much house business is done under Lucretia's aegis and many whisper that if you want the Prince on your side then better to go through his beloved daughter than his temperamental son. Such is the state of House Bastien, a fine and imposing edifice built on foundations more rocky than anyone would care to admit.
Key sits still on lonely stage,
On the subject of worldbuilding then...
There is no consensus as to why, or even what, the House of Magic is doing but those who observe them are certain that something is going on. Much like small ripples on the surface may foretell the rise of a mighty leviathan Something is coming. The only questions are What and When. As Corvetto seemingly withdraws House Al-Mari has been marching forwards. House di Valori is only one of many minor houses who have fallen under their banner and the foreign invaders seem to have not forgotten their piratical ways. Their bravos fight all too often and in brawls at the head of a gang of toughs as often as in the fighting pits under the rules of civilised combat. Lovells influence peddlers are still their own and nothing moves in the city without Elanda say so, but increasingly spies are turning in inaccurate reports and the shipments that were once inviolate now carry heavy guards or pay large bribes to ensure their safe passage. Al-Mari is not declaring war. Not yet, but they clearly sense weakness amongst the other great houses and are taking advantage, grasping what they can now. Giving a beggar a fish feeds him for a day, the old saying runs, but if he develops a taste for it then he'll take your boat and livelihood too. It may well be that only Bastien perceives the full extent of Al-Mari's activities. Who else can drawn on some much diverse (and often useless) information? Who else has members with such a(n un)healthy obsession with House Al-Mari? Regardless, they do know and one day soon that is going to matter.
Rivers dreams, such as they are, are still and cold as a frozen lake. As vast and empty as the sky above the snowfields. A dark vulture roots through the snow and finds nothing but fragments that melt away like snowflakes in the sun. Emptiness is its own defense. "Something strange happened." River says when the rest of the group wakes. "Too much time passed. But it was only one night. I don't know how."
Caraid leaves the matters of decorating to Aily - she has impeccable taste and always ensures that he gets the best room, so he doesn't need to do anything at all (which is exactly how he likes it). Instead he returns to the concealed books and settles in to read them. Hopefully Telvir will remember their little anatomical job around the time that his reading is done. Two days later Caraid leaves for the morning and reappears in the early afternoon when he asks Aily for a moment of her time. When she enters his room she finds a large box, wrapped in a deep red ribbon, sitting on the bed. Caraid smiles his ridiculously bright smile and gestures to it. "For you." He says simply. "Just because you aren't a Blood Lord, doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be treated like one sometimes." Inside she finds a new uniform - immaculately cut and of excellent, sturdy materials. Caraid also points out the subtle enchantments woven into the fabric and explains their functions. "I saw this and decided you had to have it." He explains, before removing a layer of paper at the bottom of the box. "I saw this later and decided that I had to have you have it." There is a second uniform in the box. This one is also immaculately cut, perhaps too much so, since there are a lot of areas with less fabric than one would expect and the fabric itself is quite something - smooth and oddly shiny. "I confess it isn't entirely practical." Caraid says unrepentantly. "And perhaps shouldn't be worn throughout the Suite - but I do think it will have its uses too..."
That night, Gull asks a sleepy question about River's comment from several candles ago. "Can water even heal ifrits? Won't it extinguish them?" "We all have water inside us." River replies with a shrug. "And water can be warm or cold. I think it would work." She settles down to sleep, holding Gull close, having volunteered to watch the rest of night once she's had the short amount of sleep she needs.
"... Or are you too chicken?" Little boys are not known for their maturity and when Danny Barret found himself knocked into the mud by a girl he scrambled to reclaim his dignity in the only way he could - boasting. "We've been in there." He said, gesturing to his three friends (whose friendship hadn't extended to helping him in the brief scuffle). "But I bet you wouldn't. It's too scary for girls. You'd probably see a spider and scream, or get dust on your dresses and run home to mummy. Oh wait..." The cheap shot landed and Danny got a moments satisfaction before an angry blonde cannoned into him and planted him firmly in the mud once more. "I am not chicken." Siobhan declared, uncaring of the mud staining her skirt and she knelt astride Danny and glowered. "We'll go into the Valdemar house and we'll stay the night. Then you're going to apologise to Viv and Vy. Or I'll tell everyone how a girl beat you up and then you pissed yourself." "But I..." As Siobhan clambered up she kicked the puddle and splattered Danny's britches with muddy water. "Then why are you trousers wet?" She asked with a grin before turning her back and skipping back to her sister and her dark haired best friend. "Come on! We need to get provisions for tonight! Maybe Helm would like to come?"
"Well..." Cyrene begins. "It's a long story." She simplifies a lot of it - most of the details are unnecessary and the fun ones can wait until she and Valeria have some privacy before she explains them, the relevant ones however are presented simply. "As I told you Bartelby has considerable debts - that's a large part of why taxes are so high around her. What the Swan helped me find out is that Guisarne has been keeping order through covert assassinations. There's at least a small group of the Red Mantis operating in Taldor and Guisarne has, or rather had, their contact details. The Swan has cut off that contact for now but the latest contract he wanted was for you Lope and Baroness Voinum. The two of you are seen as points of resistance in Meratt and either Bartelby himself or just Guisarne thinks you need to go." She pauses, swinging one booted leg onto the table and then the other across it. "From what people have said about Baron Okerra this might be an opportunity. If he's as honorable as he seems then assassination of vassals might be enough for him to oppose Lotheed directly. The question is proof - which I could probably find, if I can get back into Birdsong..." --------------------------------------------------
River nods with a gentle smile. Gull's words haven't cleared up anything at all for her, but she wants him to think it helped. As the others start to slip out she gets up and tidies away as Gambino polishes off the left-overs. The large elen gets a sharp slap on the wrist as he reaches for Gull's plate and River pauses to make sure that the child finishes his food before returning to her tidying. She seems to be very neat and quick enough that the jobs are done almost before Gambino is done eating. "We should be ready to go when they return." She says. "Make sure you have everything." Gull had propped Her against a small rock next to him and River feels a momentary pang of something at the thought of being left behind, in the dark, forever. It is a feeling both familiar and horrifying. "Don't forget me." She whispers unknowingly.
"Hold tight." Vincent says simply, before grabbing both the cleric's much larger arm and Sootscale's slightly smaller one in his own hands and incanting words of magic that bend space to his will. They reappear a few feet behind Tikroch and the melee between him, Luca and their more numerous foes. Vincent makes sure that Donovan is between him and the enemies.
I'll wait for the party to get back from Jambis. It'd be odd if Cyrene appeared right now. Unless she was disguised as a spider all along!
River barely eats or drinks so she'll have a canteen full of snow for water and that's about it. She'll absolutely try and make sure that Gull is properly fed though!
Well I think I tied up the side-quest with my post so happy to team up with the rest of the group again. ;) And again Fang Dragon, thanks very much for all the extra time and work you've put in for my plot line. I do very much appreciate it! :D If there's anything I can do to help/make it easier do let me know.
"Any creature covered by the dust takes a –40 penalty on Stealth checks."I guess that is enough for the near blind Lope to finally pass the Perception check xD Don't get your hopes up! And no worries Boss, you've waited plenty long for me. It can keep. :)
Well River doesn't remember anything or anyone so introduce yourself however you'd like Zephyr ;)
River sees herself being surrounded and throws all her water over the child, determined to keep him safe. It works, but she pays the price as her skin blisters and burns. It hurts, a lot. Still she needs to keep their attention so she spins rapidly, fists and feet flashing out and keeping the mephits off guard.
River doesn't hesitate and rushes off after the teleporting beast. She has no intention of letting it go with the child.
Dressing Up: "Thank you." Cyrene replies, "I feel a bit better about this knowing that he's... not exactly a nice person. It means that he deserves whatever happens to him."
Not that she cares in the slightest. Whatever 'perverted' things he can come up will pale into insignificance compared to the perversions of the Midnight Isles, and even the tamer delights of Nocticula's new realm. "I'd better go. Good luck." She adds, before slipping out of the Blue Pennant. The shopping is surprisingly good fun, she hasn't had a chance to get tarted up for ages and it is simplicity itself to morph her features - giving herself higher cheekbones, narrow eyes and short black hair. The young woman lingering on a street corner near Remington's studio the next day wouldn't look out of place in Minkai or Tian Zia itself, a picture of innocence that is only spoiled by the bloodstain a few feet away and the knife that she abandoned in a mugger's thigh. It wouldn't kill him as long as he had the sense to leave the blade in at least. Would have done a lot worse with a little more time. Cyrene thinks to herself as she sees Remington appear at his door. Show time. Fortunately it is raining, which makes her 'pitiful waif' look all the more convincing and, as Remington comes hurrying up the street she rounds the corner and walks right into him, allowing herself to be bowled over by his larger frame. She sprawls, deliberately flashing him a view up her skirt before scrambling onto her knees, eyes down like an embarrassed ingenue. "Solly, so solly." She murmurs, relying on volume rather than tone to sell the disguise. "So solly sir. Mai Hin so solly." She looks up, seeing his trousers stained by the cheap wine she'd been carrying for precisely this reason. "Oh, so solly sir. May I hep you?" Rather than going straight for the short skirt she'd opted for a light robe that, thanks to the rain, clung to her frame rather than concealing anything and the rapidly forming bulge in his trousers showed that her plan was working perfectly.
In my defense, River has a tendency to distraction, or hyperfocus. Neither of which makes her perceptive. :D
Vincent, cloaked in shadows by his indispensable amulet, lingers off to the side, although Sophiel gets one of his rare wide smiles. There's no hiding the fangs in that gesture, but with people he actually trusts there's no issue there. "Here in two hours to go back?" He says, just about making it a question rather than an order. "I have things to do." With that he slips away. Even in Gliocas there are undesirables, the poor, the desperate and those who prey upon them. He knows exactly where those people can be found now - at the edges of the city, where things are temporary, rushed, out of the direct control of the centre - and once he's there he sets to work finding a worthy meal. It has been a while... Two hours later he's back in the courtyard, waiting for his passengers. "Do you want to go home?" He asks Chrysa softly. "One night will do no harm." And she won't object if he drinks a little more while he's there. One of the many reasons Chrysa is his favourite. |
