Seraphina Pisslicker's page

Outside, Sera sheaths her blades and helps Joy to her feet. They talk briefly, but when the great doors are cast open, the brunette is on guard and still cloaked in shifting shadows. She knows something of genies, and is troubled by their appearance here.

Will Challenge: 1d20 ⇒ 7
Fear lasts...: 1d3 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2

The sight of the monstrous ogres scares the cambion, and she drops her human guise as she takes cover to one side of the doorway. Her heart pounds as her chest rises and falls dramatically, and she risks a look at their foes, trying to mark their weak points.

Slow turn. Move to cover and use Killer's Eye on the ogre in the rear... success on an 18.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 - 3d6 ⇒ (19) + 4 - (4, 5, 2) = 12

Slow Turn

Agility Challenge: 1d20 + 3 - 1d6 ⇒ (9) + 3 - (1) = 11
Strength Challenge: 1d20 + 1 - 1d6 ⇒ (4) + 1 - (3) = 2
Distance if blown away: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8
Attack Closest Earth Genie: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Damage for Closer Genie: 1d3 + 3d6 ⇒ (2) + (2, 5, 2) = 11

Makes the agility challenge, then misses STR and is blown 10 yards away. She then stands up, throws a knife (which misses, as her boon was canceled by a bane for the distance), and uses her triggered action to Hide.

Partial cloaked by swirling shadows -- ineffective again the all-seeing jinn, though Seraphina doesn't know that -- the cambion avoids a strike from one of the creatures, then prepares to lash out with her longknives when she's caught with another wind gust that lifts her off her feet and sends her flying. Her fangs are bared as she tumbles along the ground, and as she rises she is hurling a throwing knife that flashes in the sunlight -- which misses.

"F*ckin' fight fair, why don't ya, ya magical f*ckers!" she growls -- then scrambles from sight.

Slow

Agility Challenge: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Strength Challenge: 1d20 - 1d6 ⇒ (10) - (3) = 7
Distance: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) = 4

If the air genies are size 2 or larger, which I presume they are, Sera is blown back.

Seraphina is able to keep her feet despite the ground rumbling, but she's blown back tumbling by one of the air genies. The assassin swears a blue streak as she gets to her feet, then (mostly) disappears as she covers herself with a cloak of shadows!

Casting Darkling's Raiment.

"Am I now? Now where's me manners? Oh, don't have any. Sorry -- I'm Seraphina. Pisslicker. Of Azūl."

Turning to Dramm, she lowers her voice as she speaks out of the side of her mouth. "An' there ye go, more information. We good?"

When Sel comes forward and takes over, Sera nods to him and then moves to a body, kneeling over it as she checks for the cause of death. In her line of work, she's gotten pretty good at that.

Earlier

As the barghest's remains burn away, Sera kneels to examine the scorched ground as Sel asks her if there's more trouble coming.

"Unf*cking doubtedly," she says, looking at her soot-stained red fingers as she rubs them together. "Roo here's got hisself quite t'guardians. Some of these devils are a bit thick between the ears, but it won't take 'em long to figure out gettin' 'im back might require some... special attention. We shouldn't tarry here too long."

When Dramm recommends that Sera not die, she merely nods, smiles and offers a thumbs up. "Words to live by. Literally."

Now

At the edge of town, Seraphina pauses at the crooked sign and scratches her head. "Now... who t'f*ck's bright idear was it t'name the town Oblivion? Kind of... askin' for it, right?"

When they come upon the first bodies, the cambion shrugs. "Aye? Aye? I knew it."

When they see the lone man, and Dramm asks if Sera can glean more information, she drops her voice to her own musical whisper. "What, by puttin' me knife to 'is troat and tellin' 'im to fess up?" She thinks about it for a moment, then lightly adds, "Yeh, might work."

When the half-breed steps forward, she's back in her guise as a human woman, and she raises her voice in response to the old man.

"What happened here, geezer? What's your name and why aren't you dead on t'ground like these other sods?"

Perception challenge: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Will challenge from earlier for insanity: 1d20 ⇒ 12

"What the f*ck?!" Sera cried as she sprinted, moving at full speed towards the hound now. "I thought your plan was going to draw it in, bring it to us?! Charging the thing is daft! There might be more of them!"

Slow Turn, hustling. Move, Rush.

As the beast charges and the group explodes into action, Seraphina watches with wide eyes as the people she's been talking to start flying, teleporting, and blasting away with magic.

"Diabolus' shriveled balls, are you all witches and warlocks, then, each and every one of ye?" she says aloud as she draws her longknives and starts to run, to close the distance with the barghest. As she does, the cambion watches their flanks, making sure the hound's handler hasn't sent more of the monsters.

Slow Turn, Move and Rush for 30 yards. Watch for other foes carefully.

"Higher than y'might think," Sera chimed in. "Have ye encountered such a thing as a barghest before? Don't be takin' this monster lightly. They spew fire, resist magic, and are far faster than they seem. If we manage to slay it, watch out for hellfires streamin' from its body."

Her brow furrowing beneath her horns, the cambion adds, "Oh, and they don't much like sunlight. Nor cold iron, like most devils and fey. So there's that."

Flicking one of her horns, Seraphina smiles at Imedren and Selgaer. "Save these, and me sordid past, I dinna have much to hide."

When the faun speaks of going after the hellbeast following them, the half-breed nods. "Smart. If nothin' else, that thing's coming for the brass gent after dark. Best put it on its heels by attacking now. And if we wait too long, there's a chance his master'll send more. Especially if they already know I'm off script."

As an aside, Pisslicker lowers her voice to Imedren. "The Demon Lord. Lovely. We should talk about that f*cker at some point."

Nothing to add tactically, but Sera will be part of any plan to kill the thing, and recommends they do it while there's still daylight.

Seraphina walks the perimeter of the camp as the group begins to set it up, checking approaches, noting terrain, looking for the most likely means of ingress any diabolic interlopers would have. When she returns to the others, Dramm's question makes her smile slightly.

"Oh, this and that, nothin' big," she says modestly, but in her mind's pupiless eye, a different story unfolds. A scene... a dozen scenes, a hundred scenes -- play out in graphic detail, showing just what the devil-spawn has spent her years doing.

First, there's the sex. So much sex. Sex with men of all shapes and sizes. Sex with two men at the same time. Sex with two women at the same time. Sex with orcs. Sex with a half-dozen goblins, sex in positions that boggle the mind. It's really quite arresting, except what comes next is even more so: murders. Murders by the score. Throats are slit, hearts are stabbed, daggers are slid, silently, into flesh and organs. Poison is brewed and dribbled onto food. Marks are drowned, pushed from great heights, smothered, impaled, shoved in front of stampeding beasts, and sweetly strangled in their greatest moments of ecstasy.

Looking at Dramm with those white eyes, Sera shrugs and pats the hilts of the two weapons she wears at her rounded hips. "Handy with these, I spose, and I'm told there's worsen' me for company when the wine and spirits are flowin'." Cocking her head to the side slightly, she adds, "And yea man, devils can rape with the best of 'em, and also fool women into thinkin' they're layin' with their man, especially if he's been away a spell. They're bastards, to a one. Cambions, we're called, devil half-breeds. Little monsters no one wants."

Sera glances up at her horns at Selgaer's comment and blows a dark locke of hair out of her eyes. "That I do," she mutters as he goes on, at some length. She stands, listening, but doesn't answer until Summers also said her piece.

"That I like," she says with a ready nod. "Action! Less fond of, you know, being dunked in some unknown magic. Might have a trust issue or two myself, y'see. Let's start small and work together to send the devil-dog holwin' when it comes."

Looking at Roo, she adds, "And what's this about a demon, then? Like, a true demon, from the Void?"

Sera frowns when Hayle doesn't take her offered hand, but she's unable to respond before another sorcerer pushes to the front of the group. An astute one, it seems.

"Well," she says lightly, turning to the newcomer as a smile reveals a pair of fangs, "aren't we shrewd? No flies on this bald one, then. You though," the cambion says with a now white-eyed glance to Dramm, "are a touch rude. I was just makin' conversation, gettin' to know ye. Learnin' if you're worth riskin' my hide over."

Splaying both hands to show that she intends no violence, the infernal creature completes her transformation. Her skin darkens to a deep, rich red as short horns grow from her forehead, and then she shrugs.

"So you'cn imagine what kind of a first impression this makes. Most folk are simple, not so bold as the lot of you. Oft as not they run screamin' from this, the teeth and the horns and such, nevermind my scintillatin' company. I'm a half-blood. A human mother and a devil-prick of a father." Casting her eerie gaze about the whole group, she pauses briefly and adds, "I am recently come from Hell, actually. Supposed to do Diabolus' dirty work. Manage them hounds, hunt the damned, corrupt the innocent. I want no part of any of it, but I've played along until I could slip my noose... not easy as you might imagine, but I've done it -- just now. So now I aim to knock the Devil's vile business in the mortal world on its arse. Starting with Roo the clockwork. Them in Hell set me after him, and that's reason enough for me to keep him outta their clutches."

Sera takes the cute witch's hand and shakes it, adding a kind of bow-curtsey that is both charming and revealing of her lowborn manners."Now well met, Miss Summers. I like your hat. Looks good on ye."

She's about to say more, but Dramm comes forward and offers rather a more barbed set of questions. Pisslicker tilts her head back and regards him levely. "Well now, ye must be the leader of this merry band, then, are ye? The suspicious type. An' rightly so. Who am I, then, what just appeared from thin air on this trail? A good question. A fine question!"

The woman's eyes shift, over Dramm's shoulder, to where the pursuing barghest has vanished, then she adds, "He's trackin' you. Won't attack till dark, though, them hellbeasts hate the daylight. And you're right -- odds are he won't be alone when he comes."

The Cambion's boots crunch on the ground as she comes forward further, right up to the Exorcist. She extends a slim hand, as Joy had done for her. "I'm Sera. You are?"

"Name's Seraphina Pisslicker," the human-looking stranger responded, still closing the distance. "An unfortunate name, I know it," she said in her lilt, "but I does what I can to honor me family. Raised by goblins in Azūl, y'see, where I hail from. The city of murder, aye? Nasty place, that. Good riddance I says."

Now only twenty feet from the faun, Sera smiles slightly. "Well you're a pretty face, you with the questions, and the spear. My business is simple. The Devil and his court o'c*nts mean to grab this one, the clock-man here, and return him to hell. His soul's still stained and needs gobs more flaying, they'd tell you."

Coming to stand before Selgaer, her hands still casually sitting on her weapons' handles, she cocks her head as she holds the faun's gaze. "Now I aim to prevent that. Are we of like minds, all us here?"

"Clockwork!" a distinctive voice calls from ahead of the travelers, from a woman they somehow hadn't seen until now, even though she is less than fifty feet distant. Had she been behind a tree? Lying down in the grass? It seems unlikely, but regardless, she doesn't look hostile as she approaches. Slim, she has messy dark hair, is alone, and walks with an easy confidence through the long grass towards them. Clad in form-fitting leather armor and carrying little, her hands rest on the pommels of her two sheathed longknives, and she quirks an arched eyebrow at Roo, then the approaching hound.

"That there's no mortal pooch, come for licks and tummy rubs. It's a barghest -- a hell hound -- and it's come to grab the brass one here and drag him off to hell. Don't know what you done, sir, but the Devil wants his due. Thing is, the Devil can go f+#* hisself. You lot look capable. I say we send that beast scurrying. Yeah?"

First postie!