Bad Inja, no puns! Bad kitty!
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In a poor position, the tengu is unprepared for the soldier's sudden shift toward Octavian, and the reflexive blow at the open back cuts nothing but air. With a frustrated croak, he flaps closer, catching the soldier between himself and the wounded mage, but the bastard--forewarned by the tengu's vocalization--isn't caught out and helpless; the avian's second stroke catches the upraised shield instead of its user.
Grumbling in annoyance, Pazeek looks to his companion and caws a short command in his native tongue while jerking his head back toward the soldier getting free with the fire attacks. <"Sharpfeather, attack!"> Accompanied by a harsh call, the hippogriff takes to the air with a leap and crosses the distance between himself and his target with only a few hard wingbeats. Landing with a clatter of claws and hooves, he snaps his head forward and catches the fireball-using soldier with a vicious bite.
Surprise round Pazeek wings quietly into the junction and maneuvers for a landing behind the nearest of the guards whose attention is unfortunately--for them--diverted by Tsakua's actions.
Fly safely, don't fly United, and try to see at least one local tourist trap if you can!
With his hearing finally returned, Pazeek grumbles and chirps quietly before nodding his own agreement with Breewyn's threat. "Aye, your hammer is supposed to be smiting your foes, not your friends," the tengu mutters with an aggrieved tone in his voice before shifting to a quieter mode of movement that sees him gliding down the hall, quite literally so as he takes flight once again. At Breewyn's side, the hippogriff likewise shifts into careful, predatory stalk designed to conceal its approach, but stays grounded.
Pazeek, being just a tad deafened at the moment, doesn't even hear Octavian's request and so pays no heed to it. Instead, he rubs at the feather-covered openings on either side of his head that serve as ears, trying futilely to clear them. When he finally notices the others preparing to move on, he does likewise, but not without worriedly--and pointlessly--asking in a somewhat loud voice. "Do you any of you have any problems hearing right now?"
Pazeek shudders and chirps in pain before everything goes suddenly, and quite unnervingly, silent. He can hear nothing, not even the sound of his own breathing. He looks around wildly, and his beak moves--he can feel it and see it doing so--but not a single word is audible to him. "What just happened, why can't I hear anything?!?"
Behind Tsakua, watching intently, the tengu clears his throat and then speaks. "Doesn't surprise me that Elaran would lie to add more bodies to his forces. While I don't doubt there are plenty in the city who share his rather unsavory outlook, that's not probably anywhere near the numbers he'd need in an actual fight, assuming all of them were so trained to begin with." Eyeing the healed archer who hasn't yet spoken up, Pazeek nods silently and pointedly in Octavian's direction--where the first two to surrender are nervously awaiting the mage's ruling on their final fate--before running a clawed finger across his throat. His meaning is fairly obvious; fealty or death.
Pazeek quirks an eyebrow upward as he listens to the defiant words being hurled at him. After a moment during which he considers them with a thoughtful warbling noise, the tengu shrugs. "Not really the time for history lessons, but what little I know of your folk and your past says plainly enough that your folk are the interlopers in these parts. Anyway, since you don't want to surrender good and proper-like, you know what the alternative is." And with those words, Pazeek proceeds to finish the pair off in turn by forcing their heads back with his left hand--after transferring the blade it held to its scabbard--and running the honed edge of the short blade across their throats in deep cuts stretching from right to left, the magic in the metal making these wounds particularly effective. After, with no change in expression regarding the spray of arterial blood now staining his armor and feathers alike, the tengu looks over the fallen carefully, eventually finding a pair still clinging to life. Drawing Octavian's attention to the two, he asks. "These two can be saved, want to see if they'll kiss the ring, or whatever it is your folk do to show submission?"
Eyeing the kneeling soldiers with a doubtful expression, Pazeek calls out. His voice losing a bit of volume, Pazeek clucks his tongue and shakes his head as he addresses the surrendered opposition directly. "You know, if I was in your position--not that I would be, on account of not being a unthinkingly obedient meatpuppet for a nestshitter like Elaran--I might try begging the blue fellow lobbing the fireballs for an act of, oh what's that word? Ah, right, clemency! Yes, throw yourselves on his Imperial mercy and sincerely offer to make amends for this mess," the tengu concludes with a pointed look at the dead and dying, the burning barricades, and the shattered bits of temple structure beyond.
Taking another sword blow--and pausing to hork up and spit a wad of something nasty from his crop at the helmet of the soldier who made it--Pazeek brutally plies blades and beak against the soldier who slid past him to strike at the leopard. He leads with the longer of his two blades and leaves behind a bloody wound, follows up with a quick slash from the shorter that makes its own ruinous mark, then a second strike from the long blade which clangs futilely off of the frantically-evading soldier's desperate shield block. The block leaves the unfortunate illidari soldier open to the tengu's final attack, which Pazeek delivers with his beak as he steps inside the soldier's guard and ruthlessly drives the appendage into a handy gap in the heavy armor. Stepping back, he deliberately catches the eye of the soldier who struck him and licks the blood away from his beak with quick strokes of his tongue before making an unpleasant chuckling sound. "Not bad, not bad, but I need a little from someone else to compare it to, really get a proper taste." Pointing the long blade at the soldier, Pazeek makes that chuckling sound again. "Since you're in reach and eager to spill my blood, I'm sure you won't mind giving up a measure of your own in trade, eh?"
Pazeek chirps in pain as the sword's strike cleaves feathers and flesh alike, but the wound is comparatively minor, and he doesn't let it distract him as he prepares to retaliate. The tengu waits only long enough for the rampaging leopard to move in and pull the soldier's attention away from him, then skillfully flicks the long blade in his left hand through a gap in the armor, leaving a gash that quickly begins to seep blood. Without pausing to examine the soldier's condition--he's either dead, dying, or soon to be that way with the leopard still focused on him--Pazeek steps back and moves to intercept the soldier attempting their own flanking movement.
With Jasmine swiftly seeing the mages off after Octavian's searing blast of fire sweeps the enemy line--closely enough that Pazeek initially fears for his own safety--the tengu drops down on controlled wingbeats to land just out of sight of one of the archers below. He quickly enough notices that there is unnatural aura of quiet around, but decides to spend time using it instead of considering its source. Drawing back the longer of the two blades in his clawed hands, Pazeek brings across the back of unsuspecting archer before him in a forehand strike from left to right, just below the rim of the soldier's breastplate.
lurking apotheosis achieved, ascension to Lur-king, God of the Forum Shadows complete
lurks moar
Immediately after Jasmine breaks the ornate window and lines up her first shot, Pazeek flutters past her into the temple and, even as the inquistor's arrow is speeding on its way, wings silently through the temple's upper reaches, hopefully unseen by all below. Stopping to hover above the battlemage on the left, the tengu considers his next action carefully, wings flapping almost effortlessly to hold him in place.
From his position over the others, Pazeek just shakes his head in dismay as he observes the disorganized approach made by Octavian, who seems to have lost his head in a burst of religious fervor. Still, Jasmine's plan has merit, and should actually work a bit better with how the mage is almost sure to draw attention toward himself. "I've no objection to being sneaky and approaching from an odd direction," he answers the elf as she readies her bow. "Might as well take a moment to get myself ready as well." With that, the tengu sheathes his drawn swords and begins to wave his clawed fingers about while muttering something in a warbling tone, a display which concludes with him sprinkling a pinch of dirt--taken from a pouch at his waist--over himself. Pazeek then draws his blades once more and flaps cautiously up to the level of the window through which Jasmine wishes to enter, though he's careful to stay off to the side to avoid highlighting himself against the glass to those within.
Joining the party once they've assembled before the gates, Pazeek wordlessly accepts his identification from Octavian and dons it, then draws both blades and clacks his beak a few times in prepararion for the fight that is surely to come. And, in spite of Octavian and Jasmine being willing to speak before resorting to more violent forms of resolution, the birdman isn't terribly surprised when that effort is rendered moot by the two more... enthusiastic, he silently decides after some thought... members of the small group. He answers Breewyn's request with a sharp nod and takes to the air, but not before looking at Sharpfeather, pointing at the gnome with a sword, and giving the hippogriff a short command in Common. "Watch her, don't let anyone who isn't one of us get near her alive."
The tengu blinks briefly in surprise at the messenger's arrival, then looks pointedly at the defensive line just a few steps away. "I really hope that whatever he's decided needs doing there is worth it, because if he's calling me in just to send me out again to somewhere else, I'm going to be very unhappy." With that said, the avian whistles sharply to his companion beast, and both leave the ground with hard wingstrokes before setting off toward the temple. Pazeek isn't terribly familizr with New Alexandria's entirety, but he'd had some minor dealings at the temple in the course of his first foray into the thrilling world of fusing magic with craftsbirdship, so he at least knew where it was. What he sees from above as he arrives, however, convinces him that simply dropping in for a landing might not be the best course of action just yet. There are plenty of bodies visible from his current position lazily circling over the great edifice, and he can't make out which side the fallen belong to, either. After a few more circuits, he decides to wait for someone he knows to show up before doing anything more than watching.
Very briefly, Pazeek gives serious thought to simply grabbing his kit and flying off with Sharpfeather in tow. Maybe a few of his companions as well, should any be around the Lucarin estate at the time. Eventually, and not without a sigh of displeasure at doing so, he sets the thought aside and drops down in a short glide to the library's steps. Sharpfeather is there, clearly agitated about the situation, and the tengu takes a moment to settle the hippogriff before turning his eyes toward the obscured horror in the sand cloud. "Seriously, I'm not getting paid anywhere near enough for this stuff," he says idly, mostly to himself, though Sharpfeather makes a warbling noise that sounds almost like agreement. "Ah well, I wanted glory and fame when I left home, and that thing damn sure looks like it's got plenty of both to offer a strapping bird." Dropping his eyes to the direction of the breach, obscured from direct sight in his current location, the tengu adds with a sour tone. "Not to mention whatever that army is. Can't believe those fools are willing to advance with that thing out on the sand with them." With that, he launches upward with hard flaps of his manifested wings, Sharpfeather right behind him, and the pair are soon flying for the breached section of the walls. Once the opposing force comes clearly into view, Pazeek pauses and hovers in place while examining the odd soldiers. "Huh, guess that answers the question of what sort of soldiers would get near that beast. Probably going to a right proper aggravation to fight," he concludes with a sour grunt before directing his words toward Sharpfeather. "Stick close to me, chick, and we'll work through them one at a time." With that, Pazeek shifts into a short dive that brings him to the center of the defensive line, where some officer-types are gathered. "Howdy, folks. Pazeek's the name, and I'm currently acting as an agent of Alreena Lucarin. How can I help you," the avian asks cheerfully, as if there wasn't a vast monster, an invading army, and choking clots of airborne dust making a mess of things. His claim is not entirely accurate, and arguably applicable only to the city's tengu for a specific purpose, but Pazeek doesn't let a minor thing like that stop him.
Pazeek follows the guard and finds himself staring slackbeaked at the vast, dimly-seen form rising up from the sands, the sight enough to wipe away his concerns about the elders and their decision. After a long moment of silence, he answers the guard with the first thing that pops into his jumbled mind. "A damned big bird would be my first choice." He's about to add something more, but is interrupted by the wall of windborne sand washing over the city, making conversation impossible until it passes and its residue is dealt with. Hacking and coughing to clear the grit from his mouth and throat, Pazeek is busy wiping his eyes clean and so misses the actual impact of the creature's sand projectile. But he doesn't miss the effect it has, and blinks away the tears to focus more intently on the damage. And with that, the tengu finds himself calming and his thoughts shaking down into some semblance of order. "Elaran has the stupidest sonofab&%~* alive, he just breached the very defenses that New Alexandria needs to hold off the Mad King for as long as possible." Casting a glance back over his shoulder, at the empty council room and the door through which the elders have disappeared, Pazeek shakes his head and addresses the guard. "Look, I'm in no position to give orders to you or anybird else. So these are just suggestions that you follow, or not, at your discretion. First, clear these buildings before that thing does another whatever that was," he says with a claw pointing at the impact site to show what he's referring to. "And turns these buildings into piles of rubble with their occupants buried beneath them. Getting everyone up into the mountains would be best. At the same time, get some birds up over that thing's position to track it, hopefully identify it too. Can't see it clearly through that wall it's throwing up, but maybe a look from above will reveal more. More importantly though, those birds might be able to give warning if it's about to do something, maybe even guide attacks through that haze to strike accurately."
Pazeek initially mistakes the trembling of the tower for the aftereffects of his nerves, until he notes the chamber's furnishings visibly moving as well. He's already half out of his seat when the guard arrives, and then that wave of something strikes with an intensity that is very nearly physical, leaving the tengu gasping and wrung out on the floor. Staggering back to his feet--after a serious internal debate about just staying where he is and letting someone else deal with this s@#@--he gives the elders a moment to get themselves sorted out before speaking, this time in common. "Well, I'm going to go ahead and guess that the guard's warning is tied to whatever just happened there. Don't know if you all felt that odd draining sensation that I did, but I can tell you that it's got the same feel to it as the stuff that hit me and apparently made me into one of those 'Proven'." Giving his gear a quick check for readiness--because Pazeek is suddenly quite sure it'll be needed soon--he continues addressing the tengu council. "I'll further guess some more and say that Elaran just made his move, which means that we no longer have time for debate and consideration. So elders, with all due respect, I must insist that you make a decision and make it now." A part of Pazeek quails at being so demanding with the elders, and not even elders of his flock at that, but he feels a cold certainty that his words are spot-on; they've no time at all left for that, and only barely any to get into action before the rest of Elaran's plans unfold.
Taking a few deep breaths to steady his jittering nerves and gather his thoughts, Pazeek doesn't immediately respond to the question posed to him by the elder. Instead he paces back and forth a few times, then glances down at his hand and removes one of the rings he wearing there, which he apporaches the elder to offer. "With all due respect, my being in the city has nothing to do with the problems facing the Illidari," the visibly nervous tengu says, the last word spoken in the common tongue, as it's a bit of a challenge in their native language. "That rotten egg Elaran is merely using us 'Proven' as an excuse to enact plans I'm betting he's had for a long time. And those plans are why I'm here before you. Alreena Lucarin, whose ring you currently hold," Pazeek adds with a nod of his beak at the trinket currentoy held by the elder. "Believes quite firmly that Elaran, should he gain the position and authority he craves as the culmination of those plans, will make a particular point of driving out all of the city's 'undesirable' elements. Chiefly, any blueskins who don't back him all the way, and most definitely any members of other races currently residing here." "Plans are being made counter what that priest has in mind, but the Lucarins need allies that they know can be relied upon. And there's no better or more obvious choice for them than New Alexandria's long-time tengu population. Having resumed his pacing in a mostly-futile effort to control his nerves and steady his racing mind, Pazeek speaks in a bit of a rush, his tongue and beak barely up to the task of getting the words out coherently. "Her argument is that you've got a lot invested in your lives here, a lot of history shared with the blueskins, and that it's now necessary to act to keep that good relationship going with leaders who understand and value what the feathered offer the city by their presence here." Taking a deep, deep breath, Pazeek stops speaking for a time after that burst of words, visibly steadying himself. Even so, he can't stop--and, in fact, isn't even aware of--his left hand's claws repetitively clacking together. "Having an awareness of tengu history," he eventually continues, while carefully not mentioning the newness or source of said history. "Alreena Lucarin believes that the situation, and the part to be played by the feathered in its favorable end, requires that there be one leader among us to speak and act as required, at a moment's notice and with no question or debate. In short, she wants you to choose a warlord." With the core issue laid out, the keyed-up tengu deflates and collapses into a nearby chair with a weary chirp, his wobbling legs no longer up to supporting him now that his adrenaline is spent.
Pazeek examines the ring intently after accepting it, then tucks it carefully onto a finger for safekeeping; it wouldn't do to have this stolen, he thinks as he stops off in his borrowed room to collect his equipment. With the city on the edge of violence, the tengu isn't fool enough to go out unprotected or unprepared. Only the nodachi remains behind, the cavalry-killing weapon being just a bit too obvious to haul about. He also makes sure to grab that unusual feather he'd found in a little box on his bed earlier that morning. He doesn't know where it came from, but the effect of the magic contained within it is something he absolutely can make use of. After gearing himself, the tengu stops in at the Lucarin stables and readies his companion as well. The hippogriff is a little unruly after so much time spent with little to do, so Pazeek has to work to get the hybrid's barding on and settled, but it's done eventually. Rather than risking a walk through the streets of New Alexandria, Pazeek uses his feather's magic to grow a pair great wings and launch himself skyward, Sharpfeather following almost instantly with a shrill cry. Following a few quick circles over the estate to gain altitude, the pair set off toward the tengu district, with Pazeek using his vantage point to get a good look at any activity occuring in the streets below. It's a short flight, however, and Pazeek drops in to land before the library with his flight muscles barely even warmed up from the effort. Addressing the wary guards settled into defensive positions around the building--as well as perches on it--Pazeek steps calmly toward the nearest of them, speaking in tengu this time and his hands visibly and obviously set away from his weapons. Tengu: "Sorry for just dropping in like that, but I need to meet with the elders of New Alexandria's flocks, and it needs to be as soon as possible. It's the mess that the blueskins have going on, and what part the feathered might have in it."
Snorting, Pazeek points a claw to the hammer that mage has been visibly reluctant to be away from. "Yeah, but you've got a chunk of your god right there to make for a damn convincing argument, and not just because you can apply that argument in the form of an impact across someone's thick skull, either," the tengu says with amused tone of voice before spreading his hands wide and looking briefly down at himself. "But me? I'm just a random bird fresh out of the desert, with little more reputation to my name than someone else hanging the title of 'Proven' on me, for whatever that might be worth. My flock isn't especially noteworthy, and might not be around either," he adds with a brief chirp full of pain before continuing with his point. "So expecting the elders to listen to me when I tell them they need pick a bird to fill the only position we have that comes closest to possessing absolute authority over tengu? It's a tall order, it really is." "Not that I won't try, mind, since you feel it's needed," he adds quickly in effort to forestall any complaint about his words. "But don't make plans that depend on it, is what I'm saying. And, since Tsakua apparently needs a little time to properly prime Elaran into cheerfully stepping off of that cliff to his death, I'll haul my feathers back down to the tengu part of the city and see if I can't, somehow, talk the local birds into joining the little civil war their neighbors have brewing," Pazeel concludes with a dry tone as he rises from his seat and prepares to leave the dining room.
Octavian's suggestion, seconded by his mother, does something that most who know Pazeek would have paid good coin to see happen; it renders him speechless. Beak hanging open and eyes tracking between the two illidari, it takes a long moment before he's able to get his thoughts into some semblance of order and make coherent words out of them. "Well, you both certainly think big, I'll grant that. At least you had the sense not to suggest that I take the position," he adds with a weak chuckle and a pointed look in Octavian's direction. But the amusement is fleeting, and he slumps in his seat. "Well, I can see the reason for it, at least. Just hope the elders can as well, because I know damned well I'm the last bird to sway a crowd with my words," he admits ruefully.
Pazeek cocks his to one side with a curious chirp as he mulls over Octavian's rather odd question. "Uh, we've never had a king, actually. The flocks are each run by a council of elders, and it's been that way as far back as we even have any recorded history, long before we ever left our ancestral home. Even after coming to the mainland and settling down following our long journey, we've somehow managed to avoid building our nests anywhere that such a position exists among those we chose to live alongside of." Considering the question further, along with his admittedly basic knowledge of tengu history, he eventually adds. "We have, on occasion, had somebird assume the position of warlord. But that was always to provide supreme authority for very specific circumstances where a normal council couldn't respond quickly and decisively enough. But the position lasted only as long as the situation that required it, and the one time the warlord tried to hold onto the position, he was just ignored. Kind of hard to give orders when folks are pretending you don't exist," Pazeek finishes with a warble of amusememt.
Considering Tsakua's request while absent-mindedly clacking his beak shut repetitively, the tengu eventually nods. "I think I can probably find a few birds willing enough to join us, there'll surely be some eager to bust heads if given a chance and nevermind the reasons for it. Mind, anything more than that will probably require getting the elders on our side." Pondering the rest of the half-orc's offer then, he nods slowly. "And I don't have a problem joining you either. Truthfully, both Sharpfeather and I are feeling a little caged right now, and we could do with an opportunity to cut loose a bit."
Pazeek is quick to raise to a claw when his opinion on matters imperial is solicted. "I'm going to say right now that I'll back Octavian, to the hilt if he needs it. And getting Elaran and his supporters under some sort of control is necessary, if only because of the damage those idiots will eventually cause. But I'm not the least bit keen on sticking my beak into someone else's politics to the extent of deciding who's ass gets to polish the big seat." Falling silent for a moment, the tengu rubs his scarred beak with a claw, then shakes his head and clucks in frustration. "But, as Octavian said, one leader gets things done where many don't. And that being the case, it's obviously better for us that the leader of our preference is the one making the decisions." Leaning back in his seat, Pazeek shrugs and chuckles grimly. "On the bright side, if we succeed and I don't die, it'll do wonders for my reputation, both with the ladies and my fellow birds. And if we fail, then whatever Ledon will eventually do to New Alexandria likely won't matter much to any us anymore."
After the better part of a week spent forcing magic to do what he wanted of it--much to the everlasting horror of his unwitting assistants when they finally realized what he was doing--Pazeek is worn down to nearly nothing. Feathers are flat and in disarray, and some small patches are discolored or even missing entirely, a legacy of being brushed by raw magic. But he's a visibly happy tengu in spite of his exhaustion, for he's accomplished everything he'd set out to do; two fine weapons, a nice, proper steel hat made in the tengu fashion, a beautifully-sculpted ring also made with a tengu aesthetic, and a rather primitive-looking amulet decorated with small metal charms shaped as claws and beaks. During his scant rest periods, he'd kept track in passing of what most of his compatriots were about, and the worsening mood in the city as well whenever he left the estate in pursuit of something needed for his work. So the concerned words of the Lucarin matriarch come as little suprise to the tengu. "Damn it, Elaran might as well just go out and bring Ledon here into the city himself, because whatever that fool is playing at is sure be just the wrong thing to survive what's coming." Pazeek's tone of voice is laden with disgust at the prospect that someone with such authority could be more interested in their own status than that of those under their care. Glancing down the table at Octavian, the tengu asks. "Say, isn't your grandsire Elaran's superior or something of that sort? Can't he lay down some authority over that idiot and bring him to heel?"
Glancing at Breewyn, Pazeek gives his head a brief shake. "No, just some birds being helpful in their own special way," he mutters before turning back to the library and making a crude one-handed gesture. After that, his mood takes a turn for the better as he escorts Arion, Breewyn, and Ylva through the district on a meandering exploration before they all make their way back to the Lucarin estate. The rest of that evening is spent paging through the worn book, reading what it advice it has offer. Pazeek only casually skims the section relating to using intimidation tactics and overbearing others by force of personality; not his style at all. And the section on using carefully crafted falsehoods, half-truths, and other such verbal trickery he also skips with a wince as he remembers the disaster that lead to earlier; not the best course for him, the tengu decides. The sections he does pay attention to, however, relate to techniques that rely on negotiation, flattery, and other methods not as objectionable to him, as well as how apply them in fashion that relies more on logic and reason that emotional appeal. While reading, the tengu doesn't notice the faint tingle washing over him, nor the way the book's words seem to fade ever-so-slightly as he takes them in. The following day, Pazeek manages to arrange a meeting with Alreena Lucarin and explains to the matron his wishes to spend some time in the improvement of his equipment, and the further creation of new items to aid in his future efforts, though he is careful not to mention the precise nature and origin of his skills in such fields; especially not thet fact that he doesn't actually have any proper training in that area. After hearing what the avian intends, the Lucarin family matron sets him up with a suitable workspace, a means to secure the raw materials he will need, and even introduces him to a number of the family's own specialists who can aid him on the more difficult aspects of the work he is about to undertake. The tengu is suitably appreciative of these efforts, and more so still in knowing that none of the considerable expense will be be borne by his meagre purse. And so, for the next six days, the bird is virtually unseen by any of his companions, either shut away in his borrowed workspace or out in the city making arrangements to get the special materials he needs. Pazeek's Crafting:
Pazeek gives the summon a speculative look while tapping absent-mindedly at his beak with the claws of his left hand before asking the obvious--to him, at any rate--question. "So if I know it's right, though, it's fine then? Hmm, have to remember that." With that, he redirects his attention to the scribes, who are still working steadily through their extensive copywork, and sighs wearily. "I don't believe we're getting anything out of this lot today, so we might as well leave. And," he adds with another glance at the fading daylight. "There isn't much time left to do a great deal else before we should return to the estate, so we'd best be getting a move on." He says nothing more until rejoined by Arion and Breewyn. With a look at Breewyn, Pazeek hums thoughtfully. "If the three of you are still up for taking a look around, I suppose we should start now. No idea what there is for visitors around here, but I can probably get directions from one of the scribe-birds here, or the guards outside." Having said that, the tengu does just that, approaching an unoccupied tengu scribe and addressing him in a warbling, chirping language. Moments later, he rejoins the others. "Right, so I've got a couple of choices. Shall we," he asks with a twitch of his beak toward the doors leading out. ------------- As Pazeek leaves the library, he's stopped by one of the scribe-birds, who presses a slender, battered book into his hands while addressing him in tengu. Tengu:
"You know, it was actually embarassing watching you earlier, with those unfeathered. Never seen such a pathetic mating display before, none of us. So we managed to find this for you. It's a copy, and one that we're about to dispose off due to wear, so there's no problem with you taking it. Please, read it, preferably before you humilate yourself like that again." Before Pazeek, slack-beaked, can muster a response, the scribe-bird hurries back into the towering stacks, leaving the tengu to stare after him in shock. Then, after reading the title of the book--'How to Win Friends and Influence People; A Lifeguide for the Socially Inept'--he clacks his beak shut angrily... and tucks the book away under his armor nonetheless. Because, though he is loathe to admit it, he does need help in that area. But still, the nerve of some birds...
With a groan, Pazeek glances in the direction that the gnome went, then slouches and slowly follows after. He knows what he has to do, though he's no better at that than he is at believable falsehood. Finding the upset Breewyn is no problem, not many places to go in the library and plenty of scribes to ask for pointers when needed. When he locates Breewyn, the embarassed tengu quashes his first impulse to open his beak and start speaking, instead opting to sit quietly a short distance away and muster his thoughts. After a few moments, Pazeek explains himself. "Never meant to hurt you, know that. I'm a foolish bird at times, and my enthusiasm gets the better of my sense. Saw an opportunity to cozy up with two pretty ladies just a little bit, took it. Since I didn't think that just straight out asking to kiss the both of you, especially with the way you react when a bird shows more than just friendly intentions, would be the best idea, I made up a little custom to conceal my intent and not give you reason to shy away as you usually do." He pauses briefly to figure out what else needs saying, then continues. "Truly am grateful for the help, that's no lie. We needed to learn this, and I really couldn't have done it alone." With that, the avian rises and returns to where Arion and Ylva wait, ready for another helping of justifiably outraged female reaction. He just hopes that Ylva minds the library's contents and doesn't put any claws into her swings; the blood would a right problem if it splashed the shelves.
Pazeek sputters for a bit when Ylva asks her pointed question--and isn't that a trick for a species with no lips--but eventually rallies and manages an answer. "As I said, gratitude for the help. I'd have been at this for lot longer without the tw-, er, three of you scouring the shelves as well." With that, the tengu quickly shifts his gaze elsewhere, hoping that the canny summon will accept that answer at face value, and glumly certain that his hopes are in vain; Pazeek knows full well that he couldn't pass a convincing lie if his life depended on it. Really, the only point in his favor when it comes to deceit is that his efforts are never tainted by malice. Faint praise, though, faint praise.
Sense Motive DC (5) Result:
Oh dear, our poor tengu has made a mistake in claiming that his nibbles were done in gratitude for the aid provided by the trio. For that is most assuredly not at all what the nibbles were about. More of those suspect coughing noises are heard from where the scribe-birds are seated, and it's not just one of them sounding off now either. And worse yet, some Arion's own scribes seem to be having respiratory troubles as well. "And how in the names of all the gods and goddesses," the tengu distractedly wonders as he considers those human scribes. "Did those humans not get strung up or otherwise suffer a fatal mischief among the other refugees? And how did they even get into the city, for that matter?"
With a polite and grateful nod to the departing elder, Pazeek directs his attention to those remaining of the group that accompanied him to the tengu district earlier in the day. "Well, that's that then, ladies. My deepest appreciation for your aid." Nodding his head slightly toward the scribe-birds who are already hard at work making the trio copies of the respective volumes of interest they'd found, he continues. "Once that's done with, I believe we are done here. The rest of it will take some time to copy out into something suited to travel, so we've nothing else left to do." With a speculative glance through the nearest window to gauge the amount of daylight remaining, he rises from his seat in a joint-popping stretch. "It there's anything you ladies would like to do before we return to the Lucarin estate, it would be my utmost pleasure to escort you as you do so." With their business attended to, the tengu has apparently decided that it's now a good time to charm--as best as he can, at least--the pair. "Oh, and let me show the both of you a particular tengu custom for expressing gratitude and appreciation," Pazeek says with a cheerful chirp. Leaning down, he gives Breewyn's left earlobe a very brief and gentle nibble, then straightens up and does the same to Arion's ear, though on the right side this time. Drawing back, he notes that the summomer is eyeing him with a dubious expression, as though she suspects that his claim isn't entirely genuine.
Sense Motive Check (DC 7) Result:
The tengu is selling, and quite poorly at that, a line of goods that even a brain damaged goblin wouldn't buy. Whatever his action is, it mostly assuredly is not what he claims, though whether it's not the specific custom he claims it to be, or not a tengu custom at all is unclear. Then, after a short period of obvious thought--and with visible reluctance--he approaches Ylva as well, clearly intending likewise with the summon; she did help out, after all, and it would look odd for him not to show his gratitude in the same fashion. He is stopped cold before getting within arm's reach by the summoned being's lifted eyebrow, though the lifted lip and flash of teeth might be another reason for pause; clearly enough, she finds something about his claim to be off, and is having none of it. No matter, the tengu has never been the sort to press when he isn't welcome... and never mind that he's quite grateful not to interact in that manner with the unnerving summon. Behind him, one of the scribes makes a noise that sounds quite like a disbelieving laugh being poorly disguised as a cough, drawing a brief glare from Pazeek. He confines himself to that, however, preferring to spend his attention on worthier company.
His thoughts on the subject of magic, Pazeek finds himself also considering his peculiar flashes of insight on the creation of items imbued with power. This turn of thought, combined with his current surroundings, has the tengu considering some of the magic particular to his people, and the storied items they wielded as well. All of this comes together in a sudden epiphany, prompting the avian to address the elder. "Elder, would there happen to among the contents of this collection anything detailing the methods of tengu artisans responsible for making items of power? Not the lesser things, like swords that strike harder and more accurately, but the items that were great enough to earn names."
Nodding gratefully to the elder for his considerable assistance, Pazeek is reminded of the particular volumes that he'd found when he nearly knocks the scroll to the floor while sorting through some of the open scrolls amd books before him for additional notes to take. Hefting the scroll and--after a moment to locate it--the book as well, he indicates them with a twitch of his beak. "While looking for those histories, I found these on the shelves and something about them compelled me to withdraw them from their places. And I think my companions have found such works for themselves in their own searches of the shelves here," The tengu adds while eyeing what Breewyn and Arion had put forth earlier, but somehow kept within reach and separate from the main pile since. He then offers the book and scroll to the elder cautiously. "Haven't opened them up and looked through them, since I know enough about magic to know that words can be trapped with it, and anything I feel an urge to read might be such a trap."
With a blink, the tengu's gazes switches to the smaller of his two companions. "Considering that we're likely to be well away from anyone friendly once we start this, might be a good idea to get as much as there is to be had. In fact, if we could get all of this," and here, Pazeek points the quill's sharpened tip at the table. "Or the bits we most need, at least, collected into a couple of volumes we could reference on the road, I'd be pleased beyond words." Then, with a chuckle, he leans toward the gnome. "Trust me, I'm not terribly excited by this myself, much rather do something fun when I have such pretty ladies to show around. But it needs to be done, and done right, lives depend on it."
As the elder speaks, Pazeek is busily scratching a series of notes regarding everything into a bit of parchment. The only break in the sound of his quill is when he asks a scribe-bird for copies of the maps. After, he sits in silence for a momemt, considering what they've learned thus far. "Well then," the tengu finally says. "I'll have to put it to the others for a final decision, but it sounds like we at least have the start of a plan. And that's a lot more than we had before coming here. Is there anything more you have for us, elder," Pazeek asks of the aforementioned avian, eyes shifting in that direction from the table piled with scrolls and books.
Listening closely, Pazeek can't hide his disappointment at how outdated even the most recent information is. At least the geographical information will still be relevant, and he also notes the reference to fey; those beings are almost certain to still be around in numbers, and some might well be of an age to recall the passage of his folk. "Well, it wasn't what I'd been hoping for, but it's better than nothing," he says with a disappointed chirp. "Unfortunately, if that's the best available for the lands nearest to here, then anything further is likely to be even less relevant, save for details of geography at most." Brow furrowed, the tengu then addresses another bit of information from the elder. "Now these scouting parties you sent out, how long ago was that? If there are tengu out there, it might be worth keeping watch for them. In fact, are there any flocks that broke off from the migration or otherwise fell from contact in those lands?"
Taking time to think carefully, Pazeek finally answers the elder. "Well, since we'll be heading west from here, it makes sense that the histories closest in time and location to New Alexandria are a start. With that in mind, I think we need to know what nations we might expect to pass through upon leaving this sandbox. Were they stable, reasonably friendly to travelers, and not disposed to have poor memories of the tengu after we'd passed through?"
Arion's anecdotal example leaves Pazeek thoughtful for a moment before he comes up with a possible reason for such an effort to be made. "Well, depending how accurate those observations were, you'd have a damn fine foundation for certain kinds of timekeeping where such accuracy is critical. Not much use to the average person, I'll grant, but not useless either." His attention then switches to Breewyn, and he sighs. "Truth be told, I'm not altogether certain of what I-
Waving a clawed hand at the laden shelves surrounding them, the feathered humanoid makes a sour noise. "The problem is, my people maintain histories that stretch back maybe half as far as what the Illidari claim for themselves, to say nothing of whatever else we decided to keep hold of in that span. And each flock's history is slightly different to boot, focusing mostly upon that flock's part in any given event, until the flocks separate and track events particular to them alone." Massaging his beak tiredly, Pazeek slumps just a bit in his seat. "So, my dearest little healer, though I very much wish otherwise, I can be no more specific than what the elder has already instructed; seek out works bound in black with lettering of gold. That will be the only common element such things have." And to his credit, Pazeek has located quite a few of the target volumes, calling over scribe-birds to collect them for closer examination. Indeed, from where he sits this very moment, he makes note of several held by various shelves and cubbies. But he knows, deep down, that this task won't be swift or easy.
Tell a tengu, a species noted for a love of shinies in all forms, that he has a huge a line of credit? Ooooo, bad idea, lol. But seriously, I'd keep in in reason. A Handy Haversack--love those things so much, I really do-- a few ranger scrolls, perhaps a wand or two that Pazeek can use with UMD. Some minor wondrous items, maybe. Nothing outrageous or hugely expensive. Anything big ticket, like weapon enhancements--which he'll damn well want at a +1 on his blades, we are getting to the point where a magic weapon is needful for melee types--or copious amounts of expendables like scrolls, he'll want to do for himself. I took that Crafting Mastery mythic ability for just that reason.
Arion:
With a target to seek out, Pazeek wastes no time at all in scouring the shelves, sharp eyes flicking from scroll cubby to bookshelf in search of the indicated colors. He periodically comes his remaining companions making their own inspections of the sizable collection, and makes a point of letting them know that their assistance is appreciated. Were he left to search on his own, the immensity of the task might overwhelm him in short order, so spreading the burden just a bit is a welcome relief. The tengu even makes a point of thanking Arion's unusual companion, though Pazeek is a bit unsure of how to treat the strange being; he's familiar with summoning, of course, but not so much summons that function above the level of animals. During one of the breaks he takes to keep from burning out, which he takes in the company of Arion and Breewyn when he can, Pazeek eyes the nearest shelf with a considering hum. "You know, I'm a bit amazed at just how much there is in this place, never mind how far back it goes. I saw stuff that went all the way back to when my people still lived with the kitsune in our original home, though one of the archivists told me those volumes were recopied from older works that long since crumbled to dust." He then chuckles, a soft, warbling noise filling the immediate area. "Had to constantly remind myself what I'm supposed to be looking for, though I just couldn't resist snagging a couple of things that looked to interesting to pass up," the avian adds as he carefully draws a thin book and a fairly impressive scroll from a fold in his clothing where he'd been storing them.
"Indeed, elder," Pazeek responds politely after another, slightly lower dip of his head in greeting. "And, if you'll forgive any rudeness in my words, I need the truth of it, and as quickly as possible. For it's quite likely that the Proven will going westward soon enough, and our folk may well be the only ones who have any knowledge of what we might find there." Though he's intent on his objective, the tengu does note when Tsakua and Inja depart in search of things more to their liking; he doesn't begrudge them either, and would have cheerfully joined them if he weren't needed here. But, duty calls, and so he remains where he is. "The problem is, I'm no scholar by any definition, so I've not the first idea of what to look for, where to look for it, or even how to sort fact from fable." The admission is made with good humor, surprisingly enough, for Pazeek has never had any illusions about where his strengths lie... Mostly.
Dipping his head politely to the guards, while his eyes keep them clearly and quite obviously in view--foolish to bow and give a possible foe the back of your head like that--Pazeek replies with nothing like his usual demeanor. "Pazeek the Splitbeak, of the Freeport Bluefeather flock. I've come here in search of answers, for I've need of such. My companions are Arion, Breeywn, Inja, and Tsakua," he adds, pointing out the owner of each name in turn, and sticking to Common as a courtesy to them. Stepping a bit closer the guard to keep the passersby from knowing his business, the tengu continues in a lower voice. "I need to consult whatever you've got of the histories here, and the older stories too, from when we still wandered after leaving the Nest we once shared with the foxfolk. If you need to know more than that, I'd appreciate your asking off of the street, where every clacking beak can pass on what straining ears gather," Pazeek concludes with a pointed look toward a few curious birdfolk who are trying to unobtrusively edge closer to the group.
With another sigh, Pazeek makes his escape before something else goes horribly awry, delaying only long enough for Breewyn, Inja, and Arion to join if they are still minded to do so. "Right, let's be well away from here while we can do so," the tengu mutters to those accompanying him. "I just need to pass over a moment at the Lucarin estate to pick up a few things, and then we can all settle in for the dubious pleasure of digging through assorted histories and lies in hopes of dredging up something we can use!" Pazeek is as good as his word upon reaching the estate, reappearing after but a few minutes dressed in his armor, with the smaller of his weapons within easy reach upon various parts of his harness. The only other bit of his kit the tengu is carrying is a single pouch, which he takes care to tuck out of easy reach--with some effort on account of the contents--under his armor. "Right, that feels better. With the way Elaran was eyeing us on his way out, I wouldn't care to bet that he, or one of his lackeys, won't set some thugs on us to get some revenge."
Whatever response Pazeek might have for the varied offers of company into the tengu district is preempted by the response to Tsakua's actions. Dropping his beak into one hand with a weary sigh, he tries to ensure that the guards facing him aren't moved to see him as a threat. Turning his head slightly to catch sight of the half-orc with one eye, Pazeek mutters at him. "Hope it was worth it, I really do. Hope you can dig us out of this mess as fast as you sunk us in it, too."
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