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"...yes, well, I'm supposed to be some sort of elder, intelligent brother, here, and I feel like I'm left behind. I didn't want to merge with the thing, just wanted to talk with it." He crosses his arms. "I have my motives." Nevertheless, Samoon heads back to camp, only bringing out the staff when the sun sets.
Unimpressed with his first efforts, Samoon sits down, meditates, and tries a bit more slowly to find a spot.
Samoon goes a-wandering, looking for a cave or just some rocks with some overhang that have a dark space beneath them.
Universal solvent and dust of tracelessness sound super interesting.
Meh to the priest. Samoon is going to find a dark hidey hole with which to confer with the wee light elemental.
Samoon seems stunned after Samen's casual revelation. "All that time in Root...blast me for a fool. Dark and underground. I need to think of this little thing as a...firefly. Hmmmm."
Samoon sits with his brothers, nursing a cup of the thick beer. "Samen. You've been doing all kinds of chit-chat with elementals, it seems. What's the trick? My little voice of light within Father's staff is quiet and weak. I wonder if it's been suppressed or damaged by the Dark."
"He's alive because we can't exactly tell who the villains are in this little story," says Samoon. "At least this priest has been giving us some information. Factor for an unreliable narrator and you have approximately one quarter of a story." Samoon crosses his arms and blows steam like a frustrated mephit. "We're off to the Meet. We can tie up the priest, or not. He's lost his bargaining chip in any case." Samoon adds, as an afterthought, "Sagrazze," and bows to the priest.
Samoon sighs and rubs his face. "And we are to track teleporting thieves for how long, exactly? Or just going to Hearth?"
"I'm not for tracking thieves, personally. It's distracting us from the Meet, the breathless valleys, and all number of unspooled threads. If the Sagrazze wishes to meet, then we can amicably end the contract."
"Well, this is quite the bucket of salt lampreys," says Samoon quietly. "A bunch of thieves who abscond with an artifact imbued with the powers of flame. First off, how do we know who's the noble person in this situation? These other mercenaries, who, like us, drove off Darkspawn--they certainly don't sound like villains. The gem studded fellows who attacked us--that certainly isn't a lovely way to comport oneself, but what are the intentions of our dear priest here? Personally, I trust him as far as I can throw one of those stone animals. I don't think we should go haring off to find this artifact, but then again, we're contracted to assist." Samoon sighs. "I can start to see the benefits of necromancy. Just kill everyone and then inquire with their shades as to what they were up to."
"Is it...safe, Samen? Can I let it out? In other words, does it know not to spew us with acid." "Sagrazze, were they the same mercenaries who just winked out of existence, presumably via teleportation?" Samoon folds his arms cooly at the priest. "And what does this relic do? How may it be tracked? They could be anywhere, not just at Hearth. They may make examples, test its power."
Samoon, after ensuring that the fiddly gem-like creature has been placed in a proper contrivance, peels off his gloves and looks at his siblings. "This isn't a Spawn--what is it, Samen?" Receiving no answer, he lugs his jar back, following Iniga. "What in the burning Sky just happened? Sagrazze, you don't look well."
"Wamblee, hang it all, stay with the priest!" Samoon sprints towards the sounds of pained cries and hissing.
"This is stupid, and I am stupid, and we have been stupid," growls the eldest brother. "Especially me. We knew the Spawn attack using acid. Why I didn't think to have us ready with bases and neutralizers and buffers--I can hardly stand myself."
"Someone knew what to look for." Jaw set, Samoon strides back to the priest. "Someone has found your secret compartment and stolen whatever was in there. For the sake of continuing, you'd better tell us what it is...Sagrazze."
Yes, I should be a bit more available. Also, joke's on me--HLO doesn't support Pathfinder v1.0. I, Pagliaaaacciiii...
"Wamblee is still wounded," says Samoon. "We need to be careful. In other words, wait a few, if you could." Samoon checks the wagon.
Samoon makes his round with some infusions. "Do we expect more trouble on the road today, I wonder?" He has a slight limp from the cold damage.
"Wamblee, care for another? You still look sorely hurt," says Samoon, dusting off his hat.
Samoon shrugs and lopes after Wamblee.
Samoon looks about. "All of you look so angry..."
Samoon tosses a bomb at the yak.
I have been so slammed with work it hasn't even been funny. Moved rooms at work twice (we're finishing up a mixing room)--anyhow, I will try to post tomorrow. Sorry to be in absentia so long!
"You had to run off without me," says Samoon with a mild complaint and a wink. "Probably afeared of my skills with the bow." He grows more serious. "Marianne. You've been more connected with the land than the rest of us. I've seen all the...changes...elemental things..." He gestures vaguely at Wamblee, her, and wherever Samen is off crouching muttering at spells. "And, you know...Bree..." He shakes his head. "But not me. And I'm no atheist nor muttering skeptic here. Yes, I focus on my formulae, but I know elementals and the Dark are real. I hold out hope for Sky." He takes a deep breath, then sounds rather meek. "Why...am I not undergoing any sort of changes? D'you suppose? Not that I want them, necessarily," he says, sounding arch and unaffected.
"Allllll right, then," says Samoon, somewhat loudly, but perhaps still to himself. "We're going to make these flasks. Smaller ones for Spawn. Larger one for Erret. No point in making a big one without testing it on the Spawn. The Winter Meet, and then we're off to Light." And then we get some answers, he thinks. I don't think we'll get answers from anyone, or anything, until we speak to Erret. The Deathless Valleys, those fickle elementals...which reminds me... Samoon spends some time in contemplation of his surveyor's staff. Why are my brothers gradually gaining some strange elemental powers, and I am not? Wait... "Marianne..." He calls over to his sister after the hunt.
"What kind of impurities were melted? What is left?" Samoon asks the priest, curious.
I'm back from backpacking and was ultra tired yesterday (and working from home) :( I will get a post in today! And pneumonia is no joke. Please get well soon, Samen!
I'm out backpacking Sun-Tues; bot me as needed!
"Mockery is never a kind thing, not in a land with so many views and perspectives," says Samoon, looking around forlornly for some butter, or clotted cream. He bites into the bread, somewhat regretting it, and chews slowly. "But surely, a priest of your stature can shrug off the voices of the small-minded? I feel there are more important, real adversaries out there. The Dark." He chews a little more. "They've been attacking oreads, and...ah. Now I have a question for you, one truly in your wheelhouse. What do you know of brass?"
Samoon gives the priest a smile and a nod. "Samoon. It would be a pleasure, Saggezza Grico. Bread and something to wash it down sounds like a wonderful idea."
Samoon lets the conversation drop for now. "I would appreciate any clarification on...troubling passages, indeed, signiore," He tips his hat and returns to his camp.
"It is honestly a dream of mine to scale Volcano--I think that would be a sacred connection indeed," says Samoon.
Only in the vents of Volcano can the truth be truly revealed, "Or so I have read...er...I regret I haven't read more," Samoon says, apologetically. In truth, he hasn't read a lot of Volcanic mystical claptrap, skimming it over for evidence of a route upward and has focuses on more ethnographic essays...but his High Ignan, that rolls of his tongue effortlessly.
Seeing the priests of Volcano, Samoon perks up. He's been deep in thought again--the library distracted him a while from his pain and loss, but without a topic to research, his mind has turned inward for a while. However, Grico's words intrigue him. He strolls over to join his fiery cousin, nodding at her with a smile. "Saludo, Sagezza." His High Ignan is perfect. "Do you have any word of goings-on up the side of Volcano? We've had so much news of darkness...it would be a balm to hear of anything of light...and heat."
Whew--still getting out of vacation mode. Will try to catch up tonight with 51 posts! And yeah, my wifi was bleeeeeahhhh while on vacation.
Hi from the rain forest and welcome, Iniga! Samoon’s backstory is somewhere, but he’s been away studying at Light for some time, so there’s certainly been a hiatus.
Yeah, I'm in it for the long haul, me! I'll be in the air and traveling/prepping 7/2-7/3 but should be getting back to human on the 4th or so.
I will also be out for a few days at the end of July, going backpacking. :) Then I'll have no reception.
No word. I messaged them again. :( I'm gonna stop trying recruit friends! :D Maybe try the Recruitment forum to find that great mythical potential player?
"Alchemist, studied in Light, returned to see my family, and then..." Samoon spreads his hands. "As Wamblee said. Darkspawn out the volccing pogona cloaca. Darkspawn in our town--oh wait, no, that was other awful stuff--in Root, on the road--enough to make a lovely asphaltum road, but made of Darkspawn."
"Ah yes, this is my family, the fruit of Branch, it seems. We have journeyed all over the place, and misfortune seems to follow us. We should be hired as reverse-guards of caravans...if we stay far away, nothing will attack them."
"I need news that one cannot find in books," says Samoon with a sad smile. "Do you lot have names?"
"To your health," says Samoon, and takes a swig.
"Drink's good for starters, friend. Headed to the Winter Market?" Samoon takes a seat. "Samoon, from the land of pickled plums."
By the way, I'll be in Costa Rica from 7/2-7/14 (or traveling to and fro) and will be posting less frequently. I will have wi-fi, though! :)
"Where are...I'm the one who gets lost in a library, not them..." Samoon snaps his fingers. "Target practice again. Hm. And little brother is a bookworm in his own right." Neither seem to appeal to the somewhat worn out sylph, having read several trees worth on Darkspawn. He looks around for some gathering spot to have a drink and talk to elen about the Winter Meet, rubbing one eye, then the other.
ok ok, Winter Meet. I suppose what Samoon should really research is a way to not nearly die during each fight :D
Samoon buzzes like a bee from stack to stack after a mindless breakfast of whatever he can find. Darkspawn; spread of Darkspawn; 'prior outbreak'. Known resurrections of Darkspawn-infected elen. This takes him to lunch at least. At some point he reluctantly looks at 'ifriti brass', 'hypopause', and anything else regarding resurrection. Sometimes I'd rather just climb Volcano with a tank of air and some ifriti fire protection and jump off, he thinks. The hypopause. No air. No breath. Didn't Bree say... Samoon looks up more on the Airless Valleys.
Samoon will research more. Any stories of people possessed by elementals and if their spirits were ever recovered. Oh, and I have someone interested in the game. Dedicated gamer and game designer, even. |
