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Quentin looks confused. "I'm sorry. Was that inappropriate? We're in a very dangerous environment, and you're all total strangers to me. Should I not be concerned when one of my groupmates isn't in complete control of herself? Social norms are not my forte, so I hope I did not offend."
Yeah, I've seen some of what Whispers has put together. There's some seriously nasty stuff. I've been telling her stories about the traps in Grimtooth's books and Tomb of Horrors. You have my apologies....
Quentin blinks, unsure of how to process what just happened. "I don't think I like this place very much. But at least we don't have to worry about her losing control and murdering one of us, now. She seemed to be quite unstable."
From his safe position at the doorway of the room, Quentin watches in apprehension as everyone else enters and begins poking around and examining things. When Mirais discovers a hole in the floor, his curiosity is aroused. This quickly becomes horror when he sees the mess it makes of the Motherless' hand. As he listens to the others and notes the backwards painting, an idea strikes him. "Wait! This may not work, but does anyone know any harmful spells? If magic operates in reverse here, the damage may be converted to healing energy."
Quentin stays back with Regin but does extend a cautious hand to touch one of the doorway statues.
As soon as he gets a glimpse of what's inside the room, Quentin shuts the door. "Black-and-white tiled room with armed humanoid statues flanking the doorway. Rose, what do we need to know about that room?"
When Mirais hesitates, Quentin reaches over and opens the door himself.
Quentin cautiously examines every inch of the table without touching anything. He then checks the floor, table legs, and nearby walls and ceiling. His study is slow and thorough, although he touches nothing. Finally, he appears satisfied with his findings. "Everything appears safe and edible. This means one of two things: either it's an incredibly-subtle trap that can't be detected visually, audibly, or via smell. Or everything is as it seems to be: a normal spread of delicious food. That may be the more dangerous possibility, as it means there's one or more individuals in this place that don't fear the dangers within. Perhaps even this 'creator' that Rose speaks of." His analysis complete, Quentin steps away from the table, its contents still untouched.
Quentin blinks at the Tiefling. "Your logic is not flawed." His voice is serious without a trace of irony.
Regin: Each vial holds an alchemical version of a cure light wounds spell.
"Quentin Vance. Guardsman. I solve the crimes nobody else can." He pulls out a pair of vials half-full of pink liquid. "Drink these. It'll accelerate the healing of those leg wounds." Seeing Mirais reach for the food, he holds up a warning hand. "Hold up. If this is meant for us, why weren't we greeted? And why bring us to a building infested with Invisible Stalkers? It's illogical, which means one of two things. Either we're not supposed to be here - in which case consuming anything will betray our presence at a later time - or the food is a test of some sort. If you let me run some tests, I can eliminate one of those possibilities."
Whispers hasn't been feeling well for the past few days. She'll update when she's better.
Collaboration - now with 3x the Tieflings: Quentin speaks up for the first time. "That 'doll' is a construct created by whoever built this house. While I haven't interacted with her enough to establish a baseline for trustworthiness, the fact that we're being chased by multiple Invisible Stalkers means that we should listen to her - for now." His tone is even and nonthreatening, but you can see that his eyes have a distinctly analytical look behind them.
Helpful Collaboration: Quentin takes a quick glance at his companions' wounds and gives a knowing nod. "Judging by the angle of your wounds, our unseen assailants are most likely Invisible Stalkers. Rose, where's that safe room? I can patch you up once we're safe." He follows behind the others.
More Collaboration: Quentin looks momentarily surprised at Mirais' unexpected reaction to his observation about her race. This expression fades away almost immediately, though, as she mentions old clothes. "Three-hundred-year-old clothes, you say? That corresponds with the ages of some of these books. Did you happen to notice the style and tailoring? It will shed some clues as to the resident's race and nationality. If what Rose says is true, we may be in a cursed trap-filled mansion. Due to the potential risks, we should assume this is true unless evidence proves otherwise later on. Can you lead us to a safe place?" He carefully retrieves the Necril book he'd been skimming earlier and places it in his pack.
Increased Collaboration: Quentin looks up in interest. "A Motherless? Here? Fascinating. By your choice of words, I can assume that you're not the owner of this residence. Do you have any information to share? My hypothesis is incomplete at the moment - data is lacking, I'm afraid. Oh, I'm Quentin, by the way." His tone is friendly but a bit clinical - as if disinterested in the standard social niceties.
Collaboration is fun!: Quentin grins. "How appropriate that we should meet up, then. I happen to have an eidetic memory, so I'll be happy to remind you of anything you forget. My name's Quentin, by the way."
More Collaboration!: Quentin nods. "I haven't been able to figure out much, I'm afraid. It seems that more exploring will be in order. Still, based on these books, I'm pretty sure that the owner wasn't human. Most likely an Aasimar, Elf, or one of the other long-lived races. He or she is also rather intelligent. Unfortunately, based on the book's condition, the owner is likely either deceased or absent from the premises. The book's content indicates an interest in exorcising evil spirits, so we're possibly in the home of a Pharasman clergy member. This is only a working hypothesis. As I explore, I should be able to form a clearer picture. As to how and why we're here: I'm afraid I have no idea as of yet."
GM: His analysis complete, Quentin turns to the dwarf and gestures at the labeled Book in a friendly manner. "Read anything interesting? I'm compiling a theory regarding this place, but information is lacking at the moment."
GM: a large age disparity in the books ... two different languages ... celestials, demons, and ghouls ... a cursed mansion filled with traps ... books have not been taken care of ... most intriguing ...
As he ponders what he knows, Quentin mumbles to himself unconsciously. "Extrapolated Information: Resident is long-lived and intelligent. Possibly deceased, or at least no longer present. Possibly attempting to exorcise evil spirits from a specific location. Member of the Pharasman clergy, perhaps? More information needed."
GM: Aasimar exorcism rituals... interesting... Continuing to ignore the dwarf, Quentin picks up another book and continues her perusal of the library's contents.
GM: Quentin slowly blinks awake. what happened... where am I? ... Sitting up, he takes a slow look around, his keen eyes attempting to notice anything of interest. i'm clearly in a library of some sort ... what secrets will these books reveal? ... Ignoring the dwarf in favor of a potentially more valuable source of information, Quentin picks up a few nearby books and begins leafing through them. |
