Sam eyed the pearl for a moment as Gashan explained the situation before popping it into his mouth.
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"You're learning, boy," Sam said sagely.
"Certainly not go back to the gods forsaken island to be looked down upon and live on the edges of society. If I stick to the continent, I have a chance to improve my station and get the love of my life back. Of course, for now I am still a peon. I need wealth and power. Going along with you lot seems to be the best way to gather both. Once the opportunities dry up, you can expect me to leave Atalantia behind. I'll build Tenfa her temple, get the wife out of her gilded cage, and settle down somewhere on the coast."
"Slavers faked her death, sold her as a slave to be the repository of some sort of eldritch something-or-other. You know, the usual. I'll try to make introductions before she liquifies me."
"Would you believe me if I said it was my wife?"
"Well, if things get too out of hand you may be mopping me up, let's hope I'm mostly in one piece, yeah?"
"Given how good I am at making things with wings like me, that's probably for the best. Oh well," He looked wistfully out the window at the strange city, "And when we get back to Kalliert, things might get messy but I'll need you to collect whatever remains of me and give it a proper burial."
"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget that," Sam grumbled and sat back down. "Guess I'll sit here and twiddle my thumbs." After a moment's consideration, "If you find a local spellcaster capable of sending a message for me or some kind of power stone equivalent, I'd appreciate it and can pay you back."
"I could stand to move around, I'll buy some fancy nic-nacs, hassle a few locals, and see what slips," Sam was very good at introducing an element of chaos to daily proceedings.
"I'd like to stretch my legs but I'm sure we have to keep this charade up for now," Sam grumbled. After being carted around and talked at all day he was getting antsy. "If someone does take a swing at us, hang back unless I can't decisively pummel them. Direct shows of force are good, keeping everyone else's abilities quiet is better. We want them watching me specifically and worrying less about taking you all out. Granted, you might be on your own in that respect, boss."
Sorry, Granny took a bad fall, been busy with that.
Sam scowls, his anarchic tendencies chafing under the direct limits placed on him by Gashan, but nods in affirmation. Thankfully, he seemed to have decided whatever infernal binding was on their little crew outweighed the satisfaction he would derive from picking at the devilish gnoll's patience. Selvan's net was still filled with half intelligible grumbling from him, though.
"Fine, but you're helping me make it up to her when we get back. Someone's gonna have to bury my corpse."
"Gotta pay my respects to someone who scares me more than you. Someone you'd probably benefit from making an acquaintance of," there was no deception there. There was exactly one person in this world or any other who could threaten Sam and have it stick.
"Ah, bugger," Sam groaned, swatting himself in the forehead, "She might kill me for almost forgetting, she'll definitely kill me for putting it off until I get back. Oi! Gashan! I need to beg your indulgence for something," Sam called to the front of the formation.
"Maybe if the lot of you start treating with the proper reverence," Sam said, it was clear he did not mean it. Distracting by the nagging in the back of his mind, Sam puts his thoughts in order was part of his training and sorted through them systematically.
Shopping done, inventory updated and ready to go.
Good idea, I'll grab a couple and take some of the weight off Selvan.
Well scratch the psionic armor plan for now, I suppose.
Sam aids Connor where he can, though the stones and tattoos are a little beyond him. Building the palanquin was much more his speed, Sam knew a fair bit about knots and rigging so it was easy enough to put something together that would not send him plummeting to his death. Having something to focus his attentions on cheers him up considerably. He does seek out an armorer at one point to have his leathers reinforced with psionics energy and get a buckler with similar enhancements.
"Right, let's get our shopping done before we have to roll out," Sam said briskly, trying to break up the oppressive atmosphere of eldritch bindings.
Yes, slave for Sam, allow him into the sky! He will rain death from on high.
Word from Tenfa is that it won't matter who takes the shake. Time for Connor to grow up a bit.
::I'll take the burden if you want, lad. I'm already beholden to two extra-planar slave drivers,:: Sam thought over the link, shooting Tenfa the mental equivalent of a disarming grin. ::You lot will probably break free if I die horribly on this adventure.::
"Then we'll learn to find them without our eyes," Sam said, moving up behind Connor and putting what he hoped was a reassuring hand on the younger man's shoulder. A slightly awkward gesture considering the wing in the way. "Or they'll kill us, 's usually how it goes, right?"
Our AC could use some work too, I don't know what powers are required to layer on +1s to armor psionically or if we can even find a proper crafter in this town willing to work with us long enough to psionically empower our armor but it might be something to keep in mind. For now I'm interested in getting a couple of power stones of Energy Missile for when things go horribly south. Energy Missile is a 2nd level power so that would run me about 150 GP. I'll also fork over the funds for three basic tattoos of Natural Healing and two of the most powerful you can craft right now. The recent fight has me painfully aware of what I target I am.
"We have other matters to attend to," Sam said, in a sour mood ever since the ambush. He had been playing with his psionics more of late. Suspicious waves of heat or cold seemed to linger around him during his nightly meditations and he had seemed frequently distracted.
I figured we really needed a serious blaster.
I figured we really needed a serious blaster.
I am sorely tempted to but I doubt he is dumb enough to lower his guard. Not going to start a fight unless we can render his mooks a moot point or I can guarantee that I'll be the only one to pay for my actions.
Got Sam updated, numbers should be much less of an issue now.
Sam pried an arrow from a half-healed wound and spat blood onto the ground. "I'm writing a list, bug-boy. Gonna do some burning once I ain't tied to the blowhards back home," he thought over the mind link.
Sam staggers to his feet, take a deep breath and glowered at the hulking lizard. This was the second time this lizard and his fuzzies had turned him into a pincushion. If he had any chance to, he was going to pop the lizard's skull like a grape.
Can anyone get Sam further away from the lizard? I'd prefer not to have him get immediately stomped on again as soon as he manifests.
Actually, it could be a very cool aesthetic if psionic alchemists are covered with swaths of ever changing tattoos. You could call them 'Inked Men' or something and have sort of a animistic tradition set up around them. Less a worship of gods and more a worship of the natural forces and other concepts.
Maybe I should go for Body Adjustment? What is the equivalent of staves for psionics again?
Energy Missile would certainly make more things deader, faster...
I'm thinking Energy Push or Concussion Blast for my first 2nd level power.
No, no. Sam has learned his lesson. Direct violence is the only answer.
Whelp, at least it will keep the archers on lockdown.
I have no idea where I got that shape from...
Sam nods, still holding a hand out at the bandits, he clenches his fingers into a fist. The ones that managed to avoid the entanglement the first round soon find that the whipping grasses and persistent roots would not easily let them go free.
Sam shouts back to the others and then looks to the bandits as a pair of arrows slam into him. Sweat beads on his brow as a ripple of telekinetic force suddenly shunts off of him like a prismatic dust storm. "You're in the way," he growled coldly as tall grasses in the area whipped around in response to the power he wielded. All around the bandits, loose debris came alive, reaching and grabbing for them. Pebbles adhered to skin and suddenly tripled in weight, grasses and ground vines threaded themselves into crude ropes to lash limbs and anchor them to the earth, even deep roots burst forth to tangle limbs.
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