Puck, not understanding the nature of his lady's malady, remains with the party. At Ka'etil's invitation, and inspired by the giant's enthusiasm for song and dancing, he will join in the revelry with his set of pipes.
Puck's Perform (Wind) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Pucks song is one that might inspire patrons to leave coin in his wake, or gifts, as is appropriate for fey. When he finishes, he hops up to the bench beside Ka'etil, also appearing quite fatigued.
"You must pardon my lady," he says when Ka'etil asks after her. "She has a goodly heart, and likes to smile, but, being blood of our blood," Puck arrests himself, and shakes his head. "Among our kind, one as beautiful and good would have many about her, wishing to make her smile. She has known no love, and struggles with her own darkness."
The expression on Puck's face is drawn, an somewhat pained at the mention of darkness. Ka'etil also recognizes that there is a large patch of white in his blue hair that he might fix with magic, but does not.
"Say that I do not come in war, and you have it nearer the mark..."the half-elf says with the ghost of a smile.
Puck's grin fades, his expression draining from his face along with all manner of mirth he has cultivated this evening. "Aye, sir. Might I compliment your choice of attire, and gleaming sharp blade. Each well established 'round here of late as to be portent of ill intent," he hazards.
At the mention of free food and alcohol, Puck steps in beside Alaric.
"Hullo," he says, and sketches an elaborate. "I am Puck Sparrow, bard, and... historian extrodinare," he introduces himself, and casts a wary glance at the man in the robes, gritting his teeth in a savage grin. "Er, come ye in peace?" he asks.
Puck staggers back from the man in the black robes on impulse, his mind going to very dark places. He looks desperately to Oleg's, thinking of his lady, then arrests himself and simply uses his diminutive size to assist his efforts to get away from this potentially very bad situation.
He's a sorcerer. I don't believe any of them have Knowledge (Geography) as a class skill :P
Puck, released from his dark thoughts by his lady's kind smile, has been going among the children playing a jaunty tune on his pipes, and dancing. It has done his heart some good to be among smiling, laughing people and mirth. His melancholy of late, he hates to admit, has been inspired by the general lack of mirth his lady has displayed since she returned, in addition to foul contents of the book that robbed him of his will.
Travel has been hard on the immortal bard as well, and with such bad weather, food and conversation returning to dark and gloomy topics, his mood has had little inspiration to improve. Seeing children, however, and being among them with their sense of wonder and play delights him. He hopes that his lady, who he spied entering Oleg's with her companions earlier, might also achieve some manner of peace so that she might smile as she used to, and give him a reason to entertain her as well.
Puck notices Alaric and Ariarh speaking to the man at the tents, but gathers that they will speak more of dour and droll topics, and decides to continue playing among the children and amusing himself.
Puck, engaged in his recent sorrows for the bulk of the trip, perks up in Hermia's saddle at the sounds of women's laughter and children playing. her looks to his lady, whom formerly spoke of allowing him to retire, which he had been considering for some time, and spares her a smile. "My lady, it is a veritable festival!" he says with some enthusiasm.
Puck shakes his head. "I thought that the light would help. I was afraid to stand for her, because of the darkness," he says. "My lady, please, I require your assistance to translate. You're so fond of puzzles. I cannot decipher the meaning of these signs. It... I must study them!"
Puck is grasping at his book, looking eagerly at the exchange between Brett and his nude mistress. Any other time, he might have been compelled to touch, and feel, he is a fey creature, but he feels none but the pull of his book, now. No light smile on his lady's face, he was very much hoping for one...
Puck Sparrow spends the night beside his lady and her companion, preferring the quiet solitude and shelter of the corpse tent to study out of the elements. Rain may damage his book, or passing creatures tear or nibble at its pages if he is not diligent.
"I create lights at will, so I will not be troubled to read, either way," Puck supplies, then rubs his eyes with his hand and shakes his head. "I mean... My lady prefers the solitude of the night, but... perhaps she might like to wake and see some friendly faces with the dawn? The light, I think, would calm her."
Opinion... orders... officer... Obeying orders... opinions... Obedience... Obedience...orders... Puck muses while he reads.
"I... pardon my intrusion, fellows, and lady, but, it seems to me that the younger lad would be that of the heart that is needed to raise his companion, if I be following correctly," Puck grumbles, and continues reading.
Puck shakes his head, then leans forward over the text and continues crying for a while, until the darkness creeps into his heart, and robs him of all grief. Sniffling slightly, he pulls himself up stiffly against the pommel and opens the tome, and continues reading.
His lady has a head for puzzles, when she wakes, she will assist him in solving this one, he is sure of it.
And with that, I believe I will be getting on to bed at a reasonable hour.
At the mention of communion, Puck grips the text hard and begins crying. His memories of sitting on his lady's knee while she prayed are just within reach, her gentle smile and the light she channeled to heal his wounds when first they both were freed from captivity in Kressle's keep. Just beneath the darkness gnawing at his heart. If he were to stand for her in this state...
Puck shakes his head and slams the book closed once again. No! My lady is light, and this... this is...
Puck appears to breathe somewhat heavily as he forces himself to address his lady's companions. "If there are naught to speak for the lad among our number, or his..." he trails and looks at the book longingly. "Perhaps Alaric, or, or... Smendor! Yes, my lady doth often called thee friend, may stand for her, and she... with her great heart, can call upon the lad?" Puck grips the book tightly, even now appearing to struggle with his desire to rouse his lady and that to decipher the code in the book.
"If thy would travel there, it is likely thy would find great rewards, and yet dangers too. There are many foul things brewing in the west, and they seek to expand their dominion across the land, and cover this realm in darkness. But I say unto thee, when thy reach the temple, seek the altar there and offer they petition. Then, if one of thee can show their love for the fallen, it may be that a great miracle shall happen. For there are many anceint powers in the world of men, and many more beyond it... A true heart, a true friend... this may yet turn back even the wheels of Death itself... if the god that blesses that place is willing to hear thy words..." he says, then turns his gray eyes on you, and leads you forward again, his pace quickened.
Puck frowns when he hears the Woodsman's speech. He considers himself a true friend of the lady, but as for love... Though she were exceedingly tolerant and a goodly mistress of his heart, allowing him his freedom more oft than not, he could not call it love.
And what of the lad? he wonders. If ever true a friend to stand for him among their number...
And the signs... Yes, the signs... He felt their darkness tugging at him, and looked upon the book hastily shut before him, and quickly opened it. His lady would revive, he was sure. Alaric were cheerful enough, and his grief were true. His lady would rise and assist him to decipher the meaning of the signs. And no darkness would come to either of them. No...
"You are deep in study, I shall not sing a song for thy healing on this matter, for in it I see only your choice. But be wary that you study the right word, else the power of such dark compulsions may overthrow thy mind,"he adds the last intently.
Wait, what? Will power saves typically mean that you are compelled to do something against your will. I don't understand this line. Is Puck compelled to act like a crazy spider eating brownie bite, or no? When I asked, you said that everything else, including preparing his own mistress's body for burial seemed like a chore to him, and he couldn't be bothered. I'm really not getting this...
"Thanks much for your assistance, sir. My noble companions and I... er, and these friends of the captain on loan to us for this journey..." Puck darts nervously about, not having been privy to this type of magic before I assume."We are united in the singular goal of restoring life to my lady and her companion. It... would surely have been an awful inconvenience to get eaten up here."
Puck clears his throat and his hands rather tremble as he closes the book in front of him. "Might I ask, sir, how you knew the words that dispatched our... assailant?"
With some assistance, Puck rides atop his mistress's mount. He uses Prestidigitation on his shrouded mistress to mask the smell of rot in an effort to keep bugs and such at bay, not wishing for her to become as the villain that slew her. As best he can, he secures the text between his typical place on the pommel and the horse's neck so that he can read while the party travels. He appears only vaguely interested in returning to the Fey circle, being absorbed in his studies.
Puck sets himself up on the litter or the cart, whatever it is that is pulling the body of his mistress, and will spend the day of travel, minus any obligation to the group, studying the text and attempting to decipher the code.
"Oh, I am reading the tome we found upon his person. I thought, since my lady were vocally fond of books, she would not mind me reciting a few passages to her."
Puck looks up from his meditation on his lady, and for a few moments blinks up at Alaric.
"Ah, hello there, sir. You came at a fortuitous period... of time," he looks towards the book. "I were preparing my gentle lady for... And recognized that her shift were torn. She often wrote upon her own journal and said to me that she liked not Kressle's kit, and here it lies in tatters, but..."
Puck mimes the mark of a sigil as he demonstrates for Alaric his lady's torn dress.
"It seemed to me the work of some villain," he says, and gives a kind of chuckle, his fascination with the signs lending him a dark humor. "I do not believe that if she is to be... that is to say, when she wakes, she may wish another form of attire. But! Since you are here, might you help me turn her over so that I can apply the same care to all of her?"
"Good, Milady, I know that Hermia would not begrudge your attendance or your counsel. It did seem to me that Master Gan, in particular, who seems to have suffered also, might need proper rest before continuing."
Edit: Following conversation has not taken place, sorry for the inconvenience, my fault.
Aside to Ry while they prepare the Hermia's body in Sylvan:
"My thanks for your assistance, Lady. I know that my Lady would not begrudge you your interest in attending her at this moment. She seemed more than passing fond of you, though, perhaps a little wary of women folk in general. She oft cried in her sleep for her Mama, and seemed troubled by her dreams..."
Puck frowns when he sees what has become of his lady, and seems more than a little upset at the state of her clothing. "What cruel animal did this?" he wonders, touching the ripped bodice. "The villain did not appear to me to be so crude as to rip my lady's things in the midst of battle, to further embarrass her."
He appears to color a bit under the lights. "My lady Hermia oft expressed her hatred for this kit of Kressle's. As liberal as she were with her skin with me, I would not have her in filthy and torn clothing if we can restore her. Might you help me remove it from her, so that we can properly attend both?"
Puck asks Ry to help undress his lady, then casts Prestidigitation upon her, and the clothing, clearing away the smell of death and blood. A little more embarrassed, he asks Ry to help turn Hermia over to make a proper job of it, revealing the "tattoo" on her back.
At this time, as she is deceased, I imagine that the tattoo appears quite mundane. It is veritable masterpiece of line work depicting grass and wildflowers, with petals seemingly frozen mid-flight.
"Hmm," Puck hums. "I gather this is why the lady were so shy when she bathed, though... I cannot reason as why any would not be proud to display craftsmanship such as this."
Alaric jumps at the notion of this temple. That is an excellent idea. This Elk could be Erastil as that is one of the names he goes under. If that is the case, we stand a good chance of perhaps getting some divine assistance. Erastil is the god I pray to most often and all who revere nature hold him in high esteem. Alaric will look at Smendor and say The fastest way to this temple is through the area where we met the fey. I do not believe they will harm us again especially considering the mission we are on. Hermia did much to develop good relations with them when we were there previously and it is the fastest way to the temple. Going the other direction will take longer and goes through more forest. We need to move quickly and that is the quickest route. I understand your reticence to return to the fairy circle but I do not think we will be bothered again, especially because this time I will be prepared with gifts for safe passage. The fey have always responded well to alcohol and other gifts like that. Looking at Captain N'var I cannot speak for the others but I would be most happy to attempt to help your fallen man. It is only right that we should do so.
Puck smiles at Alaric's zeal to do right by his lady, his trust in the man's character being rewarded a thousand fold. "Aye, sir, it would at that warm my heart as well to see my lady's smile again as quickly as we ought, but," he pauses and looks somewhat sad. "It seems to me that perhaps not being of one single mind and intent to action might have played a part in my lady's unfortunate states of late. As she acted alone when she walked with that maggoty villain, and I and Dior when we came to inform you both of poor Bokken's death."
Essentially, Puck is wishing for a consensus for the entire group to leave immediately, as splitting up has not proven to be a great idea.
”Yeah… you see? The stuff marked in the red here is OUR map, of course, but the stuff marked in purple be the providence of them little buggers who done traveled east. Now, all the stuff marked in orange ink, that be THIS lad’s map… But everything he got on his map is accurate to what we marked on OUR map… so far at least. Now, I don’t know if the rest of what he marked be true, but I know this; heading to the west to heal the lady be a good idea, I say, because out there be what looks like holy stuff. Hell, if you keep trekking west you see marked here a statue to Erestil… like as not it be a place of power to the god… That and the temple may have something to possibly bring back the lady, as I be seeing it,”he nods to himself.
N’Var looks at you all and watches you coolly from under the gleam of the torchlight.
”If you would take your fallen companion to the west, then I would ask the same with my own lad… for I would not see any perish from death untimely. You are traveling that way in any case, will you take my lad as well? I can provide you some outriders for your protection, if you would prefer, but I don’t want to have him dead on account of that scum,”he says with a blunt stab of his finger at the man in black.
Puck considers the map, Brett's words, and Captain N'Var's request and offer to assist for a few moments.
"Something seems to me strange to me. Seeing as we had so many people and since... my lady and I arrived were only able to explore relatively small area, that this villain could explore a greater area alone," he says. "Or maybe that is just what he wishes us to think? The symbols, maybe they be evil, or maybe they be signs for more like him prowling about, keeping the way clear, like..." he trails.
Puck shakes his head, his fascination with the symbols momentarily clouding his thoughts. "In either case, we can't suffer for anything this creature laid down to continue to exist and befoul the wood. His path is far too close to my friends for comfort," he adds for himself.
What a bummer that Velma is incapacitated for the second time in two days, Hermia would totally be on that Dasha issue like white on rice.
Puck's priorities are as follows. He does not believe that it is a good idea to be running around in the dark, with people injured, and generally bummed about Hermia being dead. He wants to spend the night prepping her remains.
In the morning, the first thing he wants to do is climb up in front of someone on their horse and take Hermia and the young lad to this temple place and petition whatever god is there to get his lady back. Hermia loves puzzles and books, and can be an excellent help.
As for the stupid rotty man, burn 'em. Even Puck knows that walking around while you're rotting is unnatural, he knows that the stupid man hurt and killed his lady, not to mention rotting is exceedingly icky, and he doesn't wanna suffer that sukka to continue to exist in any way. He is glad that the group is not in a wood that the pyre could threaten anything really great, coz grass, being a weed will come back in its own time. He asks that the ashes be collected in some manner of receptacle so that they are not mingled with the earth in any way, because evil is evil, and taints.
Edit: Since it concerns his lady, I will throw up a Knowledge Religion check for Puck
Upon arrival at the outpost, Puck will see to preparing Hermia's body for 'burial' or whatever option that the group decides, provided that Alaric is ready to release her. He would prefer to be alone during this, since he knew his lady to be shy where her flesh were concerned, at least with others. But if Ariarh or Alaric are thus inclined he figures that Hermia would likely not mind terribly, as they were the only other party members she never referred to as 'Master.'
Upon seeing Alaric break down, Puck grips the pommel hard, leans forward and keens.
Sylvan"We... should," he begins in a devastated voice when he is able, "take her to... the others. It is beautiful there, and she will be at peace."/Sylvan
There's been a lot of OOC chatter about raising the cleric, so I am going to hold Puck's piece until about noonish here, or until Alaric chimes in with his opinion.
Puck scrubs at the dryness of his eyes with his forearm and sleeve. "I do not believe that my Lady would agree that Alaric were capable of leaving companions in need behind," Puck sighs and tugs on his scarf for comfort. "I gather that this means that the immediate... er, the threat to our ladies has been eliminated."
Puck attempts to sound cool, but his normally clear voice is breaking.
Puck is stiff in his seat against the Lady Ariarh's pommel. He stares straight ahead. No bright songs come to mind, nor does he believe that his Lady would have preferred them sung in these moments. He resolves to play for her in the evening, when the situation has resolved itself.
"My lady," Puck breathes, upon seeing Hermia still and unmoving in Alaric's arms. Though she tended to avoid the bulk of the group, Puck knew that Hermia had some manner of affection for her handsome prince, and many times went out of her way to speak to him in private.
He's our kind she had said.
"My lady, you are with your prince. Why aren't you smiling?" Puck inquires.
Though the others seemed to have their place, Puck had seen. That though she assisted with setting camp, she did not feel a part of it, preferring to sleep alone beneath a tree with none but a blanket, feeling more in common with the stars above than those within reach. Her greatest happiness seemed to come when he would rest upon her knee while she prayed...
Puck looks up from his revery after a few moments of communion with the sigils, and recognizes Brett. "Yes, of course. My lady is far better suited for tedium than me. And the more heads inclined towards this is like to be a tremendous help!"
Puck follows Brett out to where Ariarh is readying the horses. "Apologies, my lady, for wearing out our mutual companion so. If you do not find it repugnant, I could sit before you on the saddle, as I do with my lady, and allow our good Dior more rest?"
Well, seeing as how Puck is unawares that anything is wrong, he will spend four hours studying this afternoon, and likely every evening until the code is cracked. He's still a fey creature, so he's going to have his flitting about being a mischievous and dashing prince type character.
Towards the evening, and the coloring of the sky with sunset, Puck wanders outside, smells the fresh air and searches about for his lady. He knows that she meditates at this time, and that she is quite fond of bathing before, and has a keen desire to catch at peek at her. When he does not find her within, he begins searching for their companions to ask what might have become of her.
Perhaps she has stayed at Bokken's to deliver the poor creature to the earth? he thinks, then shakes his head. He has the impression that if that were true, someone in camp must know.
When Puck wakes to find himself alone, he uses prestidigitation to wash himself, and absently style his hair as he thinks on the symbols carved into the latest victim of the beast's foul designs.
After a few moments, he shifts use of his spell to begin weaving the designs in ether in the very air about him, and moves between them as he studies their form and intent.
Edit: Apparently failing that, that is what Puck will be doing for the remainder of the night, as his Lady has yet to arrive to tell him any differently.
Puck continues to trace the symbols on the table, only half listening to the conversation between the warlike men. My lady is fond of words, and... a healer...
"Sirs, if I may," he interrupts. "If you plan to ambush the man here, perhaps it might benefit us to have a healer of our own? My lady... she is exceptional. Wonderful at puzzles, and lovely too. I could return to the camp and... perhaps bring others to escort and assist our cause?"
"These symbols," Puck says, copying them in the filth spread on the table. "I must needs... study them," he continues. "My lady is fond of puzzles as well, likely she can help!"
Puck looks to Master Smendor, and then to Gan. "Sir, you mentioned earlier that should I require it, I would be able to return to my lady. Might Dior and I go ahead of the host and inform her about the situation here? And study, yes... Study..."
Puck is not trained in linguistics, so... I do not know what to do.
A compulsion? Well... at the very least this shouldn't be able to last too long... I am uncertain how to play this though. You say it takes up his thought is he unable to speak?
Edit: Hermia's HP at level 3 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Also, will be taking the alternative human favored bonus towards overcoming spell resistance on Evil Outsiders this level. Since... yeah, evil things are crawling about, if it is allowed.
Puck eases Dior down outside the door to the cottage, and pets his neck. "Easy friend," he says soothingly, looking at the broad backs of their companions, Master Smendor and Gan Mondragone. "Easy, and stay."
Puck's Handle Animal 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
After assuring that Dior will stay, Puck gathers his courage and follows his lady's companions into the hut. His lady's eyes would like be better for the smell that assaults his delicate nose. Puck pulls his scarf up over his face in a rude mockery of their declared foe. He sees Master Smendor and Gan stop amidst the chaos before a table, and wills himself to move about them and pull up a chair to see more closely that which their tall and stocky frames have barred him from.
Puck casts Detect Magic to see if there is any residual auras on the victim.
And the flurry of skill checks to follow, as the attending mage:
Puck directs Dior to hover beside the newcomer, Gan, whose solid back and demeanor lend him the air of leadership in this task.
"Sir, I have a prodigious worry that we have come to little avail. Should that prove the case, I would like to be given leave to return to our mistresses at once, carrying any tidings you and the others might give."
Turns out it was one exceptionally disturbed individual the bombings and the shooting deaths of children, and he is in police custody. Crisis averted, now it becomes an issue for the gal interested in puzzles and politics to follow, and not a state of emergency to make me anxious. Thanks for your thoughts.
When Puck sees that the warlike men are immediately stirred to action, and unlikely to hear him, he spends a few moments considering his own position. Upon viewing Smendor's haste to comply, Puck runs to the hut where his mistress is still, despite the uproar, incapacitated.
Upon hearing Ariarh's statement of her intent to stay, Puck shakes his head. "Nay, lady. Even as thou art without spells, it is likely the greater thing to travel with the warlike band. If even a one falls, your skills of healing will be of better use there than here."
Puck looks to his lady, and hops up on the bunk to bestow a chaste kiss to her cheek. Sylvan"Despite the tumult without, my lady doth slumber still. Forgive me, my mistress, for abandoning you in this, your greatest need, but I should think that you would approve of my intent to assist those you have chosen to follow."/Sylvan
He looks up to Ariarh with somewhat sad, yet determined eyes. "Shall we, together with my noble steed, serve, milady?"
Well, as I assume that Puck was out and about to deliver the cause of Ariarh's malady, definitively, he has overheard the captain and the others speaking about moving east on Bokken's.
Puck shakes his head woefully. "Something is not right here," he says. "Why would this man, why would these men be so sloppy as to announce their intent in such a manner? He were so careful about skirting about the laws, why would he murder a man and then stage an escape when he would have been free in a few hours?"
Puck informs the group that the Man in Black has been using his evil eye to probe the minds of the two girls, and if they happened to be thinking about the group while he was doing this which I do not see that Hermia was, specifically, or Ariarh while she was sleeping he may be privy to more information about them than is comfortable, if the ladies had the group in their thoughts at the time.
Either way, we have definitive evidence, if the testimony of a brownie is to be believed, that someone used mind melding magic on the girls, and caused them pain.
