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"Less than two drinks!" Ruika says with a soft chuckle at her own joke about the lack of alcohol tolerance of the patrons.
"Maybe help cut-throats into inerbriation. We could buy them some drinks..." Ruika adds, trying to help reduce the minor threats.
Ruika drums her fingers against the side of the tankard, thinking about potential options; "Sayings that mirrors captures soul? Well, I call spirits and can capture body too, put all of us into mirror for a night - but drop us out. Unfortunately mirror cannot be moved more than a pace or two." She replies to Sarala's query, with an unlucky glitch to her plan. "Also I could sow thoughts in door guard - get him to let us upto 3rd floor...."
"You strong orc, Narkû." Ruika says observing that Julius seems to be preparing for his berserk rage, like her clansmen used to, with lots of ale. "But challenging all-comers won't deprive the vipers nest of it's head - just get stuck in the entrails." She quotes the oft sang of proverb of the clan.
Pouting at Julius' retort, Ruika moves her heavy scarf out of the way revealing her sylvan features beneath a light veil. She sips from the beer with a hint of distaste at it's crude slightly sour flavour. "How about; sneak up there if confronted by a guard, tell 'em "We gladiators for private fight" or kill 'em and take keys. Me has no door opening abilities, how about you? Sneak around top floor find baldy & knife him." She states simply. "Or we talk to Ugruk, incite him to kill boss? You good at talkie, blondy." Leaning back against her chair, tapping her lips, the thought of turning them against one another is appealing but unlikely. "Alternatively we hide in mirror tomorrow & give to Kardswann as present, then pop out & kill him. But we ask spirits for it tonight."
Beneath her dark hooded cowl, Ruika has an expression of shock and annoyance at the potential insult causing her to stand. "No crazy, I White Orc!" she balls a fist a thumps it to her chest in a classic Romanic style, before sitting back down. Lyssa however moves out from the robes and snuffles at Sarala's ankles as she addresses the fox, before moving back to mollify Ruika as they come up with a plan to work out whats going on around here.
"Why not have Haleen introduce Narkû and Anapa as new fighter to Kardswann, then he shiv him, while we kill guards outside?" Ruika says softly, having drifted after Sarala like a soft footed ghost.
"Kardswann?" she asks the spectator and pointing upto the third floor balcony from whence the fighting purse dropped. "Gnoll? Third Floor?" There's politeness to her curt questions as deep within her the fiery hatred of the slavers burns deep. Lyssa placating, rubs against her ankles beneath her robes as a cautionary influence to the orc's emotional nature.
Ruika moves forwards to lean against the barrier of the balcony; "So you bet on her?" She glowers at the combatants and lets out a harsh bark of laughter.
"Good fight, where do you bet? Owner?" she growls in her low accented tones, the dark thin cloak leaning against the lines of her body and knife tucked into the sash at her waist. 'We kill owner and other gnoll scum that use such a torrid arena. Undoubtedly they'll eat losers of fight.' she thinks with disgust.
"So battle arena ahead, free slaves & kill gnolls?" Ruika whispers to Anapa & Julius, whom remain on the ground floor as part of her very rudimentary plan. Quietly she moves 15 foot south into the area surrounding the battle arena, where it seems like the spectators are having fun.
'Narkû should try to hide in shadows, not clatter in dark....' Ruika thinks with a jovial wryness, there's a bounce to her step at the impending combat with the gnolls. Whilst Lyssa is nipping at her heels to try and get in to look at what is happening in the market. Slipping a cloaked leg forwards, Ruika pushes the fox back since there seems to be people drinking in front of them and gaining height maybe useful - although so might securing the exit.
"Infiltrationing? That when you get bits of reagents out of potions you brew?" Ruika says completely oblivious to the need for silence and stealth in their approach to the building. Although the cloaked slight figure does walk with a soft step used to the desert and the shifting ground.
"Well if chatty-man Julius' uses his stick" She points at Sarala, Julius & herself; "for spirit armour, then more healing magic." The cowled figure is still slightly apprehensive how he's bound the spirits into a wand to provide Mage Armour. "So keys, enter Market - kill gnolls & celebrate?! Fire flasks, Me has!" She removes a viscous alchemists fire flask from her pouch. "Need anything else before deliver justice to Gnolls? Heal potions? Invisibility drink?"
Regarding potions & the like, Ruika has enough anyway to keep going - although if any of the divine casters has a lesser restoration; she is 2 points down (8 Con atm).
"Cause Great White Orc smart! Everyone agree." Ruika balls one hand into a fist and taps her chest with pride, eager to get over to the market to get vengeance upon the creatures that killed her tribe. 'Pity not everyone as concise as I.'
Shielding her eyes even beneath her veil, the witch seems to dislike to open azure sky and sets her shoulders in a stance of determined annoyance. "So speck in sky tell gnolls our location. Could call on spirits of air to force horned-bird down, or Sarala jump and pull it down." Ruika says optimistically in her dour tone. However her eyes light up with an evil glint at the mention of the battle-market; "You have keys! Let's go, slaughter them..." There's a trifle too-much enthusiasm in her voice; "Spirits will give me enough healing to cure you all.... unless you need other sources." The witch moves over to her small cordoned off area and starts to load up on acrid vials and flasks of strange liquids.
Before going to bed, the half-orc took a dusk meander back towards the town. After being gone a couple of hours, she returned nearly overloaded with boxes & wood that she moved into a corner of the monastery. Keeping to herself, Ruika ensured that she awoke bright & early. Pulling down her cloak, she looks out to see what the commotion is.
Level 4 Witch +1 Int HP 4 BAB: +1
Skills: Know (History), Acrobatics, Appraise, Heal, Spellcraft, Know (Planes), Perception Hex: Flight Spells: +1 1st Order, +1 2nd Order spell.
Supping and eating very little, even after the evening has arrived, Ruika adds to Julius; "Tie up hands, maybe break fingers - though may result in swearing only. But threats stop him bespelling." She taps the edge of her spoon on the bowl.
Looking up from her conversation about how the spirits influence the world, permeating the energies of those in the land of the living like a shadow, when Sarala laughs. The scarfed lady inquires; "Was it scarabs on his face? Lots of scarabs in chamber, you use head to clear them off Julius' face. Good idea, your strikes probably would hurt him." Clearly Ruika is still a trifle unnerved by the events in the chamber with all the insects. "Wonder if spirits could give a blessing to clear away the vermin - or at least heal Julius face."
Ruika replies in kind to Almah, carefully watching her and making an assessment. Whereas when Garavel voices his suspicions the unsubtle orc is not quick in her vehement retort; "What a 'Kulldis'? Me no Kulldis?!" "Contract mean kill Gnoll. Kill gnoll good." She agrees to help the others with their agreement. "Ruika go to hut and get stuff."
"Ahhh.. an exorcism. Good plan. Shaman-Grumnash did exorcisms, mostly staking people in sun. Results generally not good.... you better at driving out spirits?" She asks towards the others and the caravan folk, before leaning over to casually mention to Julius. "Pectoral worth twice gold found, scarab on stick opens doors - is simple key."
Quietly with more than a hint of reverence Ruika does as Sarala requested and wraps up Dashki's body in a blanket and carries him from the temple. Though she realises the groups banter is to lighten the spirits of warriors surrounded by death and magic for prolonged periods; a trifle different to her tribe that seemed to shrug off conflict with an ease that she couldn't feel. The cowled witch follows the group back to the caravan, keeping slightly behind the others trying not to be noticed too much.
"Still hurt, not anymore." she says in a gruff voice intoning upon the spirits to open the strength of her companions.
Seeing Narkû struggle to climb up the barge the cloaked figure shakes her head softly. "Finesse not power." She chides, moving over to take the other rope end. Her long arms close on the end and she takes the stance of an anchor. Then she calls up to the people on the barge; "Now knock him out, find out where your scouts are." She calls to Thurrios & Anapa.
GM:
Am I still confused? If so Ruika is slapping herself to get the scarabs off her. Actions: Seeing Anapa start to grow in size, the White Orc is not to be outdone;"Hmmph, any other want be big?" She asks, querying if anyone else wants an Enlarge spell. However never one to be inactive whilst knowing the magical energies are tricky (& time-consuming) to change another being, she reaches into her voluminous robes and grasps a flask.
Taking a step forward to give her momentum, her arm whips out throwing the flask in a wide arc. Landing upon the barge the swirling crimson and puce tendrils erupt as the glazed container shatters.
GM:
"He possessed, by Demon! One of your Ancients, Anapa!?" she shouts out at the room, her voice hoarse with amazement at the splendid scene. "But revoke you, let scouts go Demon. Curse thee!" Her veil starts to whip around and from beneath her robes the little desert fox jumps away, running towards Julius and hiding around his legs, seemeingly covering at the rage of the White Orc Shaman.
Ruika strides into the chamber and looks the floating barge up and down with an appraising nod to the transport. Pulling across her veil, the witch looks calmly at the agitated man. "Shadow-man like talk-y man, Julius? Both worship Nethys? We no want vision mist outside." She adds with a confidence, though her religious knowledge isn't too extensive about the purpose of this temple.
Ruika walks cautiously forwards into the cave, unused to the damp surroundings. The cold moisture of the cave soaks into her robes, however sauntering next to Julius the orcs' vision is taken in by the swirling cloak. Entranced by the movements, so much like the infrequent clouds it seems to speak to her. Whilst Lyssa clambers up her robes and softly yips at the pale vortex.
Ruika goes over to Julius' to try and get him to move onwards too; "You call dog? You houndmaster? Good job. Look at temple later when it safe." She taps him under the elbow to try and ensure that he moves with her, but towards the rear of the party.
Pulling down her veil to protect against the putrid, dry smell that emanates from the newly opened area; the witch moves to look into the area after Sarala. "Old tomb? Next to temple." she states softly being a trifle more cautious around the ancient death.
Resting a gloved hand against the cool surface of the altar as she listens to Sarala's diatribe about the serpentine species as a whole, Ruika's demeanour indicates appreciation for the Vanarans verbosity. "Snake good taste." Ruika states simply, perhaps implying their taste in victim was good or that they make good eating or that Sarala's opinions of snakes are correct.
Finding herself in a corner, Ruika smiles at the surrounded snake and gives it the evil eye. The smile is a bit more of a grimace, however the bite isn't that bad & she knows there's the chemicals back in her hut for some sort of emergency.
"What you call me, Voice? Repeat it!" her loud proclamation makes one of the statues look at her as she nearly touches the alabaster sheen of the altar. A glint in her eye promises that the statue will be chipped away if it raises a hand to hurt her.
Ruika moves upto the altar and looks down the narrow passageway off it. 'This must lead to priests quarters or a preparatory room for the ceremonies that take part here? Wonder if any items remain, I'm sure Julius would be interested in them.'
"Good Narkû. We advance." She moves onwards, whilst Lyssa yips at the pillars and scratches her shoulders against them as if she's got an itch.
"Hmmm Temple. Your God?" she looks to Julius slightly puzzled that the man just seemed to worship knowledge and magical theory. She gazes up at the pillars that seemingly hold up the night-sky with some awe, clearly unused to such a temple.
With a glance to Sarala; "Vanara your tribe or your people? Or same thing?" The robed figure asks having never heard of them, or even seen their species before.
Ruika nods to Anapa; "Yes, nobodies perfect." She replies deadpan, making sure that the others are following.
Softly Ruika smacks her lips, trying to ascertain what the smell comes from. With a lilting accented cadence she says; "Blood? Or burnt metal?" Before she turns slowly to the rest of the group. "That good Narkû. Let see if anything here." From beneath the dusky robes she waves her hands and intones, producing a quartet of lights to illuminate the Southern Hall before her. Then she starts forward boldly into the chamber, though tempered by her natural light step.
I believe as far as buffs, Anapa still has Ruika's Warding +2 to AC & Saves until he fails/is hit. And she's used her healing Hex on a couple of you guys.... so try not to get bashed by whatever's through the doorway. ;)
Ruika inclines her head as Julius' takes in the danger; "You think lot; as much as talk." She adds to Julius, before glancing at Thurrios' sardonic comment. Then seeing the mage coat himself in the mystical force-field, Ruika starts to motion with her hands and murmurs softly in elven. Her entire form is bathed in a soft light, a freckling glow that glistens and glitters mildly catching Narkû's torch light and reflecting her dancing ghostly orbs.
She turns to Julius' with a small smile, as if to say she doesn't need a stick to protect herself. Whilst with her other hand she waves Narkû towards the door on the south, respecting his physical power.
"BWahaha' Her laughter becomes a chilling cackle, which causes the little fox to move out of her thick desert robes and nip at her neck. 'hahahaha.... Lyssa no, I cackling here. Not many men foolish enough see true Spirit powers." "You sure of evidence? You see claws on doors, like claws of statue, now you claim they evoke elements instead. An elemental bound in statue - with trapped energies; would that be evocative enough for you?" She sighs, not used to wasting this much breathe for a while.
"Pffft, a floating lifter... what use that when you have strong arms. Or the spirits to make one float." Ruika rolls her eyes at Julius'; "This your God flappy lips man? Her heralds were depicted upstairs - in statues. Although those not come to life....unlike these?" She adds her voice having the first hint of wariness after the bold proclamations.
"Baboon looks very life-like." Ruika says, examining the statue. Whilst ensuring that there's sufficient light for Julius, by intoning a soft airy song that match the fluid motions of her hands. A quartet of pale orbs are conjured to float above her hands.
"Good eye, Thurrios. We be careful. Through southern door." Her words are short and sharp as she looks towards the doorway.
Ruika follows Narkû down the stairs, interested in the floating tiles but seeing that some of the others have moved forward down into the gloom. Her footsteps soft on the stone stairs as she pads down into the cool room below.
Ruika lands softly on the broken floor. Having been careful upon her descent to avoid the other stony appendages that protruded from the shaft; lest she find herself the focus of Julius' wit. She picks up some of the broken tiles and examines them, just to ascertain if they were from above & any evidence of how they were broken. Lyssa jumps out of the collar of the shadowy robe, preening herself with a haughty look to her friend. 'I didn't need your help to climb down, but I guess I'll deign to have let you.' The witch moves to avoid Julius falling form and nods to Sarala to lead the way.
"Better watch your hands, else your mind be expanded after fall to stone floor." she says taciturnly. "Humour of tribe tends to physical than lingual, maybe humans different?" Slowly she ensures that her grip is tight enough, despite Lyssa's wheezing chuckle at the exchange.
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