I have to admit, this whole thing gives me a headache.
1. Readied Actions with specific declarations ("I hit it if it comes close to me" or something similar) trigger regardless of the circumstances. If it comes close to you, and you are able to hit it, the action triggers. That's how I've been playing it for the last however-many-years its been.
2. Sure. Warpriests can spontaneously cure...but taking control of a PC to reaffirm that action instead of specifically asking the player if that's what they'd like to do (well, unless they're Dominated anyway) is not something I appreciate unless you've agreed it ahead of time. PbP or not.
3. Also familiar with those critters from another life. Did not expect one to show here, and this early. Yikes.
Ach! Totally thought I'd dropped my line here! Sorry guys D:
Reflex:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Rhis grumbles a little, yawning as she walks, as if paying no attention to the rickety bridge or Shalelu's oh-so-informative list of swampland denizens.
By the time they come to the second one, the Priestess appears distinctly unimpressed with their muck-swollen environs and, blowing a lock of hair aside, sighs, "Congrats Derric, it's a second chance at fa--"
...before the grotesque humanoid decides to rudely interrupt her quip.
Oh. Well then.
First round of combat, Rhis draws her bow with a Move Action and readies to fire.
Longbow:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11+ 1 within 30ft. Damage:1d8 ⇒ 2+ 1 within 30ft.
...Which she's fated to do poorly, seeing as she's trying to avoid pin-cushioning her allies in the process.
"Eccentric...dangerous...insane..." Rhis echoes back, shrugging her shoulders as her bow's ridge catches against a nerve. "And you're certain that this hermit isn't a Goblin himself?"
Regardless of how her eyes might seem to roll inside their sockets, Rhis endeavors to keep a proper guard up as the others examine their more immediate terrain. There's already been one ambush this way; the archer's not keen on letting a second one through.
I actually build Scions of Humanity pretty often, and though the reasons for it are usually specific to each character, I can separate them pretty cleanly into two groups: Characters that are completely ignorant of their heritage, or blatant liars for whom their appearance is a boon. (I have a rare exception in one character who's backstory entails that she was originally Human, and her transition to Tiefling was quite the artificial affair; but all-in-all such otherworldly natures should always an integral part of character design, and I never make the decision lightly.)
In Rhis's case, it's very much a part of her concept. In fact she's probably the most ignorant PC I've built with regards to her heritage; most others are curious, or at least have an idea. Not Rhis. Rhis is bliiiiiiiiind. Her long-lived nature and lack of real history prior to Sandpoint puts her a bit at odds with reality. Of course she attributes the whole thing to Desna, so her ignorance is really a mix of bliss, disinterest, and not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth.
I get the feeling Rhis is on first-name basis with Sandpoint's jailer at this point in her life. She probably has her name and a few butterflies etched on a cell wall somewhere.
Not that she doesn't appreciate the sentiment, I'm sure.
The aforementioned 'witch' remains blissfully ignorant until her hands cradle a cup, its steam wafting pleasantly into her face.
"Dunno," Rhis answers flatly to the now excessively loud Sheriff. "Luck of the draw, I guess. Give it ten and it'll pass. Maybe? Probably. Ask Desna."
Necking back one lot of black liquid, Rhis puts the now empty mug aside and replaces it with a second, the hot vapor still visible on her breath as she puts to Hemlock (and indeed the rest of the table) another question: "Chieftain, eh? We know anything on 'im?"
Well. Okay then. This could work. Those of you with Spellcraft, might want to hit that up so you can cover your ears. DC 16 iirc.
"Desnnnaaaa..."
Upon seeing that, Rhis promptly gets up from her seat, her hand dragging the piece of furniture in her wake, only vaguely aware that, should anyone intrude her way, she's dangerously likely to beat them with the chair.
On her way to the stage, the Priestess holds tight to the iron crest belted to her front, muttering all the while until she slams her chair against Hemlock's impromptu plinth and uses it to join the guardsman. Without so much as a greeting, she grasps a hand on his shoulder, fingers coated in twilight as her lips usher prayers to the stars. "Drive them to silence."
What follows is a grand, booming sound; like that of a mighty horn, deafening in its volume; but the magic falls from her hands and swarms to Hemlock's throat, where it settles, vanishing from sight. That would be Clarion Call. Hemlock should now be able to speak with such loudness that the whole damn town might hear it.
Her immediate sabotage of The Rusty Dragon's rambling complete, Rhis gives the Sherriff a stiff pat on the back. "I think they'll hear you now. Yeah. Sure."
Not waiting for an answer, she steps off the stage, grabs her chair, drags her way back to her spot at the table and, again, waits for her damn coffee. Patiently. Like a f~+#ing lady.
At Hemlock's bark, Rhis merely holds out a lazy hand towards the cultured sheriff. She would elaborate with a monotone 'ta-dah', but she doesn't feel like wasting her voice to the crowd. In any case, the situation practically speaks for itself, and whether or not she's personally invested no longer matters. No one's schedule is so comically accurate without some measure of divine leverage. Desna is not, perhaps, the most direct patron of the Sandpoint's Pantheon, but Rhis knows her work when she sees it.
Now if Lady Luck would kindly make her coffee appear from the void, as Hemlock had done through The Rusty Dragon's door, the Priestess might be more openly inclined to offering her unconditional service to their apparent cause. For now though, she sighs, draws her dagger back into its sheath, and waits for someone else to figure out what more the sheriff could possibly have to say...
"And I'm sure my tab'll appreciate it. Truth is, the real reward's in not seeing those burns repeated," Rhis states plainly, still playing with her knife, a hint of solidarity in her voice despite her demeanour. "You want help, you got it."
"Besides..." After brief pause, followed by a shrug, the Desnan repeats herself, a scowl fixed to her brow. "I don't like roadside cremations," she declares, muttering, "Spheres know this town's been burned enough already..."
Ahh, it always takes a bit with characterization in anything. No worries.
Personally, I'm quite happy with Rhis's most recent addition(s) to the conversation. I get to play the deadpan comic and I'm 10,000% okay with this (though I'll take criticisms if you've got any).
On entering The Rusty Dragon and being called over by the long-eared Ranger, Rhis dusted off her best greeting with a shallow bow from the waist. Shalelu's long reign as Sandpoint's foremost defense against the ever-present Goblin threat had earned her plenty respect from the town itself, and Rhis served no exception.
Leokian Trasandoral wrote:
"But what is their concern with this?"
"I'd ask you the same, stranger." On getting that reception, all marks of the Desnan's amiableness drained to disinterest. "Suddenly don't care."
Luckily she brightens a bit on seeing the Calistrian at the table, and wastes no further time in dragging over a second stool, specifically for her feet. "Ah, you too Shaeda? Usual tipple? He's buying."
As Shalelu, Derric, and Shaeda begin to share details, Rhis keeps a keen ear to the conversation but largely wastes her attention trying to order a specific kind of fruit juice--complete with a tiny umbrella, because she knows the Kaijitsu has to have some stashed somewhere--and three cups of coffee. For herself.
Shaeda Stormborn wrote:
"...and a, pardon, what ye be calling yerself?"
Rhis leans over to the Halfling mid-explanation, whispering "Kitsune, dear." before going back to 'ignoring' the conversation, this time using a knife to clean out her nails as she waits.
On the topic of love, the Desnan shrugs, adding, "Timin', eh? Ain't that the truth. O'course the stars don't always call back. But some do." Rhis's hand briefly crosses the butterfly crest at her chest, lips thin but smiling. It doesn't last as she soon deadpans, "So. Firework-wieldin' Goblins, and you're down a full set o' heroes. Guess you're stuck with us."
She balances her knife against the table, her finger rocking the handle to-and-fro. "C'mon Andosana. Quit fondling your toy boy and get with the plan. I normally gotta pay Shaeda for a show."
"Then don't." Rhis shrugs, finishing her tea with one long, lazy swallow. Leaving the cup aside the rest of Koya's utensils, the archer checks her person; bow, arrows, knives,... Satisfied she isn't likely to have left anything behind, the priestess gives Koya an honest, if silent, word of thanks before offering the bed-stricken aristocrat a small bow of the head.
"Luck of the Spheres to you, Kaijitsu," she bids, turning to Derric. "Figure someone ought to find Andosana; see if she won't shed more light."
"Oh. Hope you got change, kiddo. First drink's on you."
Going by the tone of voice, it's clear that (unless stopped) Rhis is probably going to order a small vat of coffee and gin.
Unless anyone has any further objections to her bidding adieu, Rhis'll make trails to the Rusty Dragon in due course.
Throughout Ameiko's scolding, Rhis continues to nonchalantly munch on her cracker. She stopped listening somewhere after the word 'missy'--having grown bored of repeating herself and being misunderstood, for the most part. A disenchanted Kaijitsu getting jumped worries her far less than a sharp one, but all this talk of traps and fireworks drives a deep crease into Rhis's brow.
"Can't say I'm too familiar," she says, snack long devoured, rubbing at an ear in habit. "Bright and flashy isn't strictly my thing."
Thinking on it a moment longer, lingering on Ameiko's words, Rhis moves her hand to her chin. "You think it's an unlucky theft?" she asks, clearly uncertain of the idea. "I'd hate to think of Goblins with a supply line."
All part of the game, yo! No problems here~ I mean, Rhis is a big girl; Derric's banter hasn't quite gotten past the first post on her 'give-a-damn' list. Apparently bad social habits + genuine concern = cranky old lady Alberuti. The more you know!~
Rhis doesn't much react to Derric at all, beyond reaching midway through his speech for a cracker. "Sandpoint, in trouble? In related news, the sky is blue. And that sign post they have out front the town gate? I remember it being put it there; so don't lecture me on what this place has been through, yeah? I was there, suffering with the best of them."
There's a marked change in her tone of voice as she continues on, gesturing with her snack, "You do realize that 'Everyone in Town' includes me, yes? What is it you think I'm here for exactly? The food?"
At that Rhis takes a sizable bite of her cracker and, chewing around her words--quite literally--says, "Not everyone's a hero, kid. Your friends are good people. Strong people. That it could've happened to anyone is the problem."
"Aaa, not that I don't appreciate y'all still being with us," she remarks, returning to her more placid ways as she gives the bedbound aristocrat a lazy salute, adding under a breath, "Preeeetty sure she'll haunt me if I don't pay off that bar tab anyway..."
Rhis does little more than raise a brow at Ameiko's threat of retaliation, her tired eyes hued by amusement and a purposeful, inviting spark of malice that lasts no more than a single blink. That the reluctant aristocrat attempts to take her up on it is enough for the Desnan to offer a short-lived smirk. A few cuts and burns aside, Ms. Kaijitsu seems well enough to talk; and Koya brought more tea, so what does she care?
Finishing her own drink with one long, slow draw, Rhis moves to give the Mvashti a hand, pouring enough cups for the lot of them as Ameiko and Derric continue to ramble.
At mention of Shalelu's apparent heroism, the archer nods. "Makes sense. Andosana's always been the better crackshot," she says to no one in particular, handing off servings of tea. She shrugs to Koya, handing the cleric her cup. "Suntem doar norocos, eh?"
Varisian:
"We're just lucky, eh?"
"Goblin fire is hot. Good to know," she muses dryly, once Derric lets the air lie still for more than a breath. "Suppose your Ranger would know more to that."
Balancing on one leg, scratching her calf with the other, Rhis lets loose another yawn before adding, "An' on that, that whole 'we're with you', 'pro-recovery' spiel is--was really great, Derri'; but I'm gonna need your friend here to slip what the hell happened. I caught something about an old woman. That right?"
Knowing her request comes off as perhaps more blunt than it ought to be, Rhis explains more directly, staring Ameiko in the eye: "Look; a jumped merchant's one thing. But you two, near burnt to a crisp? Nuh uh. I'm prayin' you were both possessed by stupid; maybe took a wrong turn and went looking for that trouble." She frowns, though only slightly. "'Cause I don't like roadside cremations, Kaijitsu. You feel me?"
Hahaha, well, when I put my application in for the game, I expressed that I would not be all "in your face" about Shaeda's activities
Son, I am disappoint.
Well, yeah, obviously; I'm just putting it out there (and wasting time at work but we don't talk about that)
Honestly Sandpoint is such a small town (I mean it has a population of like ~1k right?) that everyone probably knows everyone through one means or another~
Is that a challenge? Because that sounds like a challenge.
Also as a Computer Forensic Analyst (y'know those people the police toss offending computer systems and indecent digital material to? yeahhh.)--it's going to take a lot to throw me off as well. So I think you're fine, Mathpro; just keep it tasteful :P (Or not; I mean, Calistria and all that...)
Aye; that and the Perform skills sort of surprised me, honestly. Background Skills make Bards pretty spare on ranks as a result. Rhis being able to speak Varisian makes me so much happier.
That said, first post up. If it wasn't obvious, I can get a little flamboyant with my posts so, y'know, just tell me to cut it out if it gets too much or something.
I doubt Rhis would've stayed over, but she probably would've made Koya's place her first pit-stop in the morning (yes, early in the morning; perish the thought of keeping proper schedules and showing genuine concern). She'd probably let her damn self in, too. Rhis really has no sense of spacial entitlement.
'Rush' is, perhaps, not quite the right word; for Rhis rarely rushes for anything, and her casual saunter to Ameiko's room is quite the contrast to their furred friend's anxious charge. From the way she yawns, you'd think the Desnan had awoken with the house (so to speak), but her manner of dress suggests otherwise. One hand holds a still-steaming cup to her lips. The other rests at the starknife at her side, her fingers easing slowly from its grip.
"Eeeh. Se pare bine pentru mine...?" she yawns, eyes narrowing at their Mvashti host as she continues in plain Taldane for the benefit of their peers, "Not sure the lungs are right, mind; could still be someone down Church Street that didn't hear that racket."
That said, the Priestess sips at her drink, coming closer only to lightly smack at the back of Derric's furry scalp; as though she were a parent scolding a child. "Coddle her any more and she'll choke."
A cursory glance up and down the Kaijitsu earns a level frown from the archer. Usually, this would be the time for Rhis to retreat, or else barter an extension on her bar tab. That she doesn't say anything, feet patiently rooted to the floor in wait of an explanation, speaks far more than any mere word might carry.
Ah, fair point Shaeda; I'm personally not against Background Skills--Rhis certainly wouldn't go amiss to learn a handful of languages during the course of the adventure. Seems like the kind of thing she'd do, listening to people gnatter on between naps.
Gear-wise, Rhis has her own excuses for being ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Desnans, eh?
I like to think Rhis remembers everyone she meets...and just purposely 'forgets' people as and when it suits her. She forgets things a lot.
Not to step on Mathpro's toes here, but I imagine that check would involve a mix of Knowledge Local and Planes to 100% nail her race (otherwise she's just a weird Human, or an unorthadox Outsider). Something like that I guess.
On that note, going back to Shaeda's earlier question: y'all have one person with Darkvision. I'm also tempted to give her the Sleepy drawback and jam in another trait (maybe Wind-Carried Voices?)--because she really does just nap wherever, and what's another quirk in the mix?
Seriously though, Rhis would tell you she's human as human can be and doesn't know what the hell a 'Sylph' is beyond some distant folklore from Abendego.
She certainly doesn't look it, in any case, so getting it wrong would be completely in-character (with the exception of maybe Leokian once he funnels enough points into Knowledge: Planes or something).
DM Mathpro wrote:
Are you guys aware of Shaeda's position at the Pixies Kitten?
Sure. Rhis doesn't much care what people do with themselves. Free will and all that.
DM Mathpro wrote:
And if so are any of you clients of hers(not judgement here)?
Eh. Unlikely. Your archer doesn't like paying for the privilege. She certainly has nothing against courtesans and their profession, but she'd rather buy them drinks and listen to them chatter about their clientele. Far more entertaining.
Hey; if Half-Orc Extraction is a thing...Just, y'know, throwing that out there.
On topic, and similarly if anyone's curious about the party dreamer:
Rhis in Sandpoint:
Few alive in Sandpoint know the lackadaisical archer by name, but a great many more recognize her face, a visage ignored by time as the rest of the world continues to age, prosper, and grow. Thirty years have passed since Rhis's first arrival to the coastal town, and for thirty years she has remained almost exactly the same, as if she had never aged at all. Rumors fly about the method involved, that she uses magic to maintain her youth, or disguise her age, or that she's something altogether not human. The truth is that Rhis doesn't truly know herself, and for her part tends not to think on it, choosing to believe her longevity, much like her close friends the Mvashtis, is a gift of fate and divine luck. Whether or not this is true, she neither knows nor particularly cares, for dogslicers and arrows don't care for age, and the priestess has the scars to prove it.
Despite being an accomplished archer and devotee of Desna, Rhis is infamous beyond her eerie lifespan, possessing a reputation for being lazy, capable of sleeping anywhere, and sometimes appearing downright apathetic. Those who've known her for an extended length of time can profess that this is simply untrue. She genuinely is apathetic, but only towards causes she feels are pointless, or already consumed by fate. That said, her paycheck must come from somewhere--and few have anything offensive to say of the Desnan's carefree ways, as she appears equally likely to assist as she is to ignore a request entirely.
On most days, Rhis can be found wasting time and coin in The Rusty Dragon, probably napping on the bar, over a table, or sometimes even hanging in the rafters, should the establishment's glorious owner take an eye off the Desnan for more than a few minutes. Rhis is convinced that Ameiko's revenge ploy is to feed her out of house, home, and wardrobe ("Your stupid foreign cuisine is making me fat, Kaijitsu. I hope you're happy.")
Appearance:
Short, thin, and impossibly pale, Rhis would be a ghost if not for the flamboyant, colourful attire she so purposely chooses to don, appearing every bit the young and flighty priestess of Desna, right down to the butterfly crest at her chest. And yet something about this picture...something about her strikes you as altogether, unmistakably, irrefutably...off.
Standing at 5'6", Rhis appears yo own a lithe, wiry frame beneath her indigo and lilac coat. A well-groomed head of hair that threatens some shade of charcoal-grey does little to disguise the almost transparent colour of her skin--an odd thing considering that Rhis spends a great deal of her time dreaming under the Varisian sun. Even stranger, despite possessing a healthy (or at least certainly athletic) build, Rhis barely weighs more than 100lbs. As usual, she has no idea why this is, but often deadpans that her bones must be hollow to accommodate the vast amounts of fruit she stuffs into her maw on a daily basis.
TL;DR - If you're local, chances are you've met her at some point I guess, and you'd know that she has a rep for being SUPER LAX about pretty much everything, as far as you know (I mean unless you do something obviously evil, at which point that bowstring starts earning its keep). Shaeda's almost certainly met her as it stands; Rhis was a very old friend of the Mvashtis, and I can't imagine she would've let a Calistrian priest walk around without jamming in innuendos whenever the opportunity presented itself (or maybe just asking her out to drink and talk work stories; a Calistrian's got to have some decent gossip, eh?) -- but that's just me rambling thoughts. I'm all open to ideas here folks, just tossing my pennies in before I gotta snooze for work~
Derric: Huh. Today I learned something about mounts. And yeah, Samurai are glorified eastern cavaliers. Yup. That's a thing. No multiclassing there, bud. Meanwhile, my inferior 2 skill ranks per level and I are going to sit on Perception and Sense Motive unless I hear a blatant objection. I might dance between SM and Survival; makes the most sense, thematically, to me.
Really? Not even a little bit? I'm disappointed, both in character and out.
Seriously though; Rhis'll probably be blatantly whoring herself out to Divine Favor for...ever, actually. It's the only way she's gonna keep up with the might that is Andosana's bow twang in a straight duel. She'd call it cheating but....no, no, that's definitely cheating, isn't it? Whoops?
Sandru is also an honorary woman. The man's Varisian. I dare you to tell me he wouldn't put on a dress and makeup on a wager (against two Luck-Blessing Priestesses).
Yeah man, I took one glance at Leokian's general outlook and went "Yup. Rhis is going to want to toss him in the deep end of life. Guy needs to write a story, not read one."
Derric wrote:
Especially since we have two healers
Hahhaaaaaa, that is not the word I would use, buddy. Warpriests are incredibly selfish casters in my experience (o'course throw a wand of CLW at us and I'm sure we'll be set).
Kitsunes are pretty sweet; generally looking forward to seeing how this all plays out.
On the topic of ages; Rhis is...sort of assumed to be knocking around her early fifties. Doesn't look a day over her mid-twenties. She forgets the exact number. Stuff gets confusing when you don't count birthdays.
Honestly, I might just pick up Caravan Guard because Sandru needs some attention and he's undoubtedly the best drinking buddy at The Rusty Dragon (I mean unless the Best Customer trait is up for grabs because honestly that's just an amazing excuse to always have rum/wine/sake/beverage-of-choice to hand).
Then again, Rhis thinks crashing at The 'Dragon is going to end up with her turning incredibly spherical and poor, so her relationship with the place is very...love-hate. In that "You keep taking my money and I keep coming back. There is obviously something wrong with me" kind of way. It's probably definitely the food.
Relationship Counseling from a Calistrian...hohboy. Can Rhis just, I dunno, silently judge you all at 60 paces? Is that an option?
Eh, should be fine. Luck is one of those choices where it's all "The more, the merrier." I'm all for mutual clerical bonding over the nuances of suddenly misfortunate foes and lots of absinthe. Preferably mid-combat, 105ft away, armed with enough arrows to dot Desna's path among the stars.
I'm actually swinging a little on my campaign trait. Rhis can, with a 'couple tweaks, qualify for...quite a lot of them, actually. Benefits of having lived in Sandpoint for ~30 years I guess. Don't wanna step on people's toes or plans.
A Calistrian, twos Desnans, a Shelynite and an Arcanist walk into an Inn. There were no survivors.
But more seriously, greetings all and welcome to the cool kid table! Please take your obligatory indoor sunglasses and custom team jackets. We'll be serving the punch and snacks at five sharp.
Alright, alright, I'll knock it off. Personally I've been wanting to get a drop on Jade Regent for a while, so thanks to Mathpro for giving me the opportunity to bring one of my weirder characters to life. Pretty interesting lineup overall; Samurai, Rogue, Arcanist, and not one but TWO Warpriests. Aren't we lucky?*
*I mean, we better be, else I took that Luck blessing for nadda.
"...Hnn?" A grumbling sound emerges from a distant table of The Rusty Dragon Inn, accompanied by a terse groan as a short, lilac-clad ghost of a woman is roused from her dreams. Seeing everyone's reaction, and smelling the scent of burnt hair and skin wafting in the air, Rhis pulls up her scarf over her face, adjusting for a better recline. "...Five more minutes," is what her mouth says, but one eye remains open beneath the fabric, drawing a tight bead on the events at hand.
Once things begin to settle down, and it appears no one is actually on fire, the Desnan shrugs back into a comfortable position, intent on returning to her nap. There's enough bodies about there, she figures, and, before long, settles back into sleep.
One Archer Warpriest of Desna, as promised, calling in for glorious shenanigans! Put me down for Ranged / Martial more than divine. Godspeed with your picks Mathpro, and good luck to everyone else! ~Hourai.
