Sheliantha's page

"Welcome back! And, all in one piece, I see. That's wonderful."

The Venture Captain sweeps away some paperwork into a folder, and rises gracefully.

"I'm glad you had a chance to perform for an audience that could appreciate your show. I haven't been to Tien as recently as I would have liked. Sometimes day-to-day drudgery gets in the way of things." She purses her lips and puts a finger to her temple in thought. "I suppose I could work it in next Fireday..." She nods slowly and her attention returns to the here and now.

"What did you like the most about your shows? Did you have rapt attention throughout? Or, did you have to work at pulling them in?" She sighs and looks to the wall. "I'm not much of a performer, myself. I mean, I dabble in singing a little, and I have some training in giving speeches, but, going up and just grabbing an audience and taking them on a journey..." her gaze goes a little wistful as she thinks. Then she turns and flashes a dazzling smile.

Sheliantha claps with delight and lets out a musical laugh. She casts, and concentrating, she adds a soundtrack to the stage fight with crackles and blasts of lightning accompanying the action.

Perform(Wind Instrument): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22 Ghost Sound

Her smile brightens as she times her crashes and echoes follow the action in Charlotte's show.

"I think you have a winner, there. You could get quite the audience going with that."

The sorceress casts again, and a noble horse stamps and whinnies on the stage, backing the two combatants, giving a depth to the show. Shadow Conjuration to mimic Phantom Steed

"I agree fully that it is worth trying. However, as Venture Captain Chattra says, such a performance might be illegal or suppressed in some areas." She nods for emphasis to Charlotte. "So, be very careful, and only act as a provocateuse if you really want to. Performances in heavily traveled areas, such as here in Absalom are not likely to receive retaliation, and might get to some of the target audiences you seek."

She sighs heavily, and crosses her arms on the back of the chair in front of her. "If you would like to go into more dangerous areas..." There's a brief grimace as if the sorceress isn't liking what she is saying, "My caravan travels about southwestern Avistan, and you could work as a barker and perform with a show. I haven't been run out of a town yet, and I'd prefer to keep a good name, but you could use the situation to help find areas in need of your help, or even those needing direct intervention by teams of Eagle Knights. It might be very dangerous, but when you are feeling ready, get ahold of me. We'll discuss how to make something work."

She stands, and under the collar of her gown flashes the insignia of a Knight-Captain of the Steel Falcons. It's hard to tell if the flash was intentional or not.

"Ahhh, education!" The stunning auburn-haired woman pulls back her hood as she strides through the door. "Yet another area of endeavor that my own efforts against the foul institution have lacked. Cuorecielo, please note that down in my schedule to address."

A tiny, winged woman floats in afterward, and nods curtly as she makes a note in a just as tiny journal. Then, she flashes a brilliant smile to all present. The human woman pulls a chair and turns it backwards and straddles it in the same motion, somehow controlling her skirts in a demure manner.

Cuorecielo is a Lyrakien Azata.

"Pardon me for intruding. I'm Venture-Captain Sheliantha, without lodge at the moment. I couldn't help but overhearing, and I have to agree that there are many fronts in which the fight must be fought against the scourge of slavery. I've been trying an economics focus recently, attempting to eliminate the potential for profit on a large scale." Her eyes go around the room and she smiles at the fox, seeming to read the lettering on the bow he wears.

"Mr. Bonaire, I too am eager for the visceral thrill of taking down evil captors and oppressors with my own spells, but sadly, that is just on a small scale. I think that our young thespian," she smiles radiantly to Charlotte, "has a concept that I wish I had conceived. I hope you don't mind, Dear, if I work with that thought and develop it."

The man beams a wide grin. It seems he understood the common, but continues to speak in Tien.

"Aah! Tasukatta! Domodomo!" He reaches over the bar and grabs of large stein and pours some beer from a keg into it. "Kampai! Ne! Ne! Yousei-san? Yousei ja ne ka? Namae wa? Ore wa Haru!"

** spoiler omitted **

As before, the words of the Lyrakien come across in whatever language is most comfortable to the listener.

The flying miniature and winged woman looks back to the Tien man. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, but I'm not Fae at all. I'm from Elysium, which is..." She looks around the room a moment, and then points, nearly dropping her immense shotglass. "That way! But, it's a long ways away. Too far to walk, or even fly for that matter. I can sing you a song from there if you like, and that could let you know the difference between where I'm from and the First World."

The Lyrakian Azata, still toting the shotglass, immense for her size and as yet unfilled, flies to the tattooed woman, and translates the most recent Tien outburst into Varisian. "He's asking if anyone is here, and where the ale is." Then her wingbeats take her to the newcomer, and she studies him closely.

What she says comes across in Tien, or Minkayan, whichever is Haru's native tongue. "Drinks are paid for, today, by Sheliantha there. Have what you like, but not too much." And she moves back to the bar, to finally get her own drink.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

Sheliantha, the varisian woman, looks to the new arrivals. "Welcome all, this is, in fact, the meeting hall for those of us in Liberty's Edge. Do come in and I've covered the bar tabs for this afternoon. Priviledges of rank, don't y'know." Her nose wrinkles in a smile which causes some of the tattoos on her face to look somehow, different.

She addresses Ami-San, no recognition of anything but humanity in her. "Oh, oppressed into servitude to someone you don't want. Sounds awfully like slavery to me. Either way, though, it is something to be fought. I believe you have escaped the forced marriage, or do I have it wrong? But, not being allowed back into your old life is intimidating to say the least. Feel welcome here, and I think you can find us to be a new family. Take your time, and find your place."

She looks to Tar-Aslan, and nods. "My own work, these days, is to find actual solutions to the institution of slavery. Making war on slavers needs to be targeted and precise, as the repercussions on the former slaves can be quite detrimental. My research is indicating that economics will be the most powerful force in changing the mores involved in the abhorrent trade. But, I am always eager to hear new information, anything that will help in the Cause!"

Meanwhile, her friend the Lyrakien flies over to the bar. She hefts a tub-like shotglass and moves over by Buzz, holding it out for a fill. "Please, sir, can I have some mo... well, some?"

Poring over a rather large book, a beautiful varisian woman pulls back a loose lock of lustrous auburn hair from her tattooed face, and she frowns a bit before speaking to her companion.

"This isn't supposed to be so hard, Cuor. I've been reading magick works for years now, but writing them is something I just can't grasp." There's a soft sigh, and then the miniature winged figure pats her on the arm, gently.

"I'll help all I can, Shel," the musical soprano voice of the obvious Outsider tries to console the woman. "But you know as well as I do that you need a wizard's training to be able to do that. Do you really want to go back to school, nose locked in -more- books, for years?"

The strange blue characters of her tattoos glitter slightly as Sheliantha shakes her head. "No, no, there's too much to be done to take that kind of time. Maybe, if I got ahold of a dose of the Sun Orchid Elixir..." She laughs softly in her rich contralto at the ridiculousness of that suggestion. Hearing someone come in, she turns and flashes a radiant smile.

"Welcome to the hall, good sir. Come in, and have a drink, or a bite to eat, if you like. This time of day the kitchens are working." Rising smoothly to her feet, the fairly tall woman flashes some more tattoos from other parts of her body. Her gaze takes in the newcomer, pausing momentarily on his eyes. "Marvyr, it it? I think you will find we don't have any use for slavery here, but not all of us take our cues from the Drunken Hero."

There's a gesture to an empty chair, and she closes up the book quietly. "Just starting out on this strange quest of Pathfinding? I hope you find your way as easy as it can be. Some have a rough time with it."

deusvult wrote:

Akerlof wrote:

Andoran missions are more commonly problematic, and those are the ones Silver Crusade maps to in Season 0-2.

+1 to that. Because of the antics Andorans were put up to in the early seaons, 'round these parts they're still called "terrorists" and were considered the more evil faction than Cheliax was.

Actually, having GMed my fair share of Andorans, I'd say that it's not so much "put up to", as they were in some cases, but it was my experience that Andorans tended to use tactics of backstabbing and murder even when they weren't told to, and there were other means available, even non-violent ones. Just face it... Andoran PC's ARE a bunch of murderous thugs who claim "it's in the name of freedom!".

You know, I spent a lot of time and effort getting my fellows, as well as those of other factions, to find ways that were not so ... murderous as some seemed to use. I'd like you to amend that capitalized word to something less ... all-encompassing. Some of us are trained diplomats, after all.

Dot

Sheliantha follows with the main party, floating along comfortably and quietly. She seems to take the time to get used to darkvision, and looks over all of the interesting sights to be seen. Occasionally, she speaks in hushed tones to her familiar, Cuorecielo, on the sights, or getting language lessons, but the volume is indeed very low.

She looks over the slain ... former enemies, and tries to piece together what the reasoning of the specific placement might be.

Knowledge(Arcana): 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (1) + 17 = 18

edit: yikes!

"I might not be much of a talker, but I will endeavor to translate for anybody who can't speak a language. I will also put my utmost into avoiding confrontational situations."

"Well, Ven, I hope we can work well together. I have had past successes with talking to new types of people, but my own skills as a linguist leave something to be desired. With the help of yourself, and my friend Cuorecielo, this expedition may be one of finding and making allies, rather than a running fight, or source of new enemies."

Sheliantha flashes one of her dazzling smiles, encouraging the man so used to solitary passages in the Darklands.

Telgarana wrote:

If anything the recent revelations and rumors coming from the Blackros affair, prove that the ideals of Andoran need champions now more than ever before!

As far as Chelaxia goes, is it any real surprise when devil lickers turn on each other?

To Freedom!

You will regret these words.

You will learn discipline by the grace of Asmodeus, or by the grace of greatsword. It is your choice. Choose wisely. You will not get a second chance, running dog.

"I think it has been well-established that in most places there can be found good people, and bad. We are not from a mono-aligned plane where everyone can be assumed one way or another.

"There are bad eggs in Andoran, I have helped the Major find some myself. Hopefully I have been able to persuade some to see how they harm others, and help them to improve themselves.

"Threats and ultimatums are for fighting the evil of the world, not for fellow pathfinders. You may disagree, and so there are civil ways to express that and to attempt to change someone's attitudes or view. Think on that before you lose track of the precepts of 'Explore, Report, Cooperate."

Another smile flashes on Sheliantha's lips. "Pontificor, just as you know precisely to the inch how far a color spray from your fingers will make a goblin 'taste the rainbow', others have calibrated their own spells. Go ahead and walk on and one of us can tell you to stop as needed. Besides, I'd rather you were close enough to me so that your mighty lights can protect me from whatever fierceness we may encounter." She hovers and then glides towards the gnome. "And when there's a break, Cuorecielo is always interested in stories of places she hasn't been."

She offers Pontificor a few jelly beans, each of its own color, before looking everyone over.

"Val, are we to identify ourselves as Pathfinders? As members of the Deep Lodge? Knowing a little of what to say to creatures we meet ahead of time is very useful."

LOL

Yes! You can carry lots more turkey! You'll be able to carry a whole turkey more without even slowing down. 18 str light load 100, 19 str light load 116

A handy haversack was one of my first purchases, and I sold my crossbow very early on. Hero labs does make it easy to check and adjust encumbrance.

As far as footlockers, I do store unnecessary gear at the grand lodge. It is a service the Society can easily afford, and is quite valuable to the members.

G'Darm, if you want a masterwork backpack, get one. I expect a strapping young Eagle like you probably doesn't need one, but they really do help carry things.

"I suppose growing up in a caravan, as I did, made me never long for a place of my own. We travelled all over Varisia, even to the Stair, and traded story and song with all those we met. There wasn't anything horrible back then, just moving all over the place. I learned to deal with many types of people and ... other things in my travels. I've got a share in a caravan now, and I travel to open up markets and make sure places are ready to receive it." She smiles slowly, thinking back. "I suppose my father wasn't very happy with Mother working the nights, but he hid it from me. It might be why he encouraged me to go on and find a place to practice my magicks."

"I'm sorry to hear of your struggles in your young life, Val, but as you say, your travels have led you here, and now, and the future has all sorts of possibilities."

She shifts her gaze to Violetta. "I have never thought of architecture as fine art, but that place sure sounds like a wonder. Cuore and I would love to see it. I haven't yet refined my teleportation to even be reliable on Golarion, much less to the Outer Worlds. In fact," she suppresses a chuckle behind her hand. "The very first time I teleported any distance on a mission, I ended up in the middle of the Inner Sea, floating and trying to concentrate enough to teleport again. Some master of magic I am!" Her eyes roll in self-deprecation, and she takes a sip of her drink, fairly delicately.

Sheliantha looks briefly to Kyros, and then with a nod, takes a seat looking to Val. Her expression one of a storyteller looking to hear a new story with great anticipation.

"Ooooh! A story!" Cuorecielo flits over by the host and then back to Sheliantha and sits on the sorceress' shoulder, almost slavering at the thought of a new tale.

Sheliantha watches the discussions and preparations with interest. She sees the senior sorceress and how she interacts with the smaller folk, and her face gives a look of contemplation and calculation, as if learning at a rapid pace.

She cleans her plate with a wave of her hand, and puts it to the side. From behind her shoulder comes a winged woman, much smaller than the gnomes who speaks softly with the musical accompaniment much like chimes.

"Shel, look. You always seem to want to restrict how much you affect your allies, your friends with your magicks. But, you can do things to help! I know you keep working on how to destroy the vile beings, and that's a good thing, but you can go deep into your own side, and make them great!"

The varisian woman with her own blue-in-blue eyes sighs a little, and shrugs. "I have a long, long way to go to do that kind of thing, Cuore. I think I'll move slowly. Last thing I want to do is accidentally overstep, and start limiting friends, or removing their own will and freedom. If there's anything I'm afraid of, I think that's it."

She rises, flowing up to her feet, and moves smoothly over to talk to some of the group, trying to get a feel for them. Some of the elves might seem a little out of her ordinary, long-lived as they are. Cuorecielo, the azata, flits around, looking over things, but maintaining her locus centered on the tattooed sorceress.

A smirk crosses her full lips as Telessar lists off the participants. Her dress flows behind her as she takes a slow walk to the other side of the room and swirls about her legs as she stops at the sidebar to pour herself a glass. She turns and raises it, looking expectantly to the others present.

"Oooh, freedom from the corrupt government of the Nation? I hope that works out well, and frees us to take a more active hand in removing tyrrany from the oppressed. I do suppose that we have to be subtle about things still, with the Society's reputation on the line..."

The tattooed woman taps her lips with a forefinger, in thought. Her mass of hair moves as she turns back around, glinting in the indoor light.

"I know. We could petition the Decemvirate for a Lodge of our own. Perhaps a reserve to allow former slaves and captives to recuperate before starting a new, and productive life?"

Sheliantha eases her way to stand next to Kyros, and looks to the elf and tengu with a dazzling smile. Her long, lustrous brown hair sways behind her back, hilighting the royal blue of her dress where the collar of the halter passes behind her neck. The tattoos that cross her much-exposed skin reek of ancient things, the stylized thassilonian script almost seeming to come to life. As she comes to a stop next to the cavalier, her long, split skirt swirls back into place, now covering her long, toned legs.

"Really, gentlemen? There is difficulty in distinguishing between a hero of many battles, showing the hard-earned scars from weapons brandished by the enemy, and a mere slip of a varisian girl? I assure you, we don't look all that similar..."

Her smile flashes again, lighting the room, and, oh yes, her eyes. The blue-within-blue, no whites to be seen might be familiar to to a wizard or magus who uses magic to see the world around him.

The tiny azata flits back to the paladin, and flying upside down faces her... well, face. "You were friendly, too! And, you were all worried that people would call you see-- well, that other name. And, also, you were very nice, and you smack those demons really well!" A huge grin at the target of her comments, and then she swoops to right herself. She flies to the bar, to discuss with the bartender the benefits of keeping glasses that smaller patrons might be able to hoist on their own.

Sheliantha nods to the others present and rises to flow into a court'sey befitting the most formal of the Grand Prince's courts. "You are most kind, Sichelgaita, and I am ever so glad we had met. I look forward to a time my duties free up and we can spend more time together."

Resuming her seat, she watches the interchange between the elves (demi and not) and tiefling. "Nor have I, save those that attain them with magic. Not even at the Tanglebriar, where hardship and mutation are orders of the day. Many elves and their descendants can fly, of course. It almost becomes hmm, de rigeur? for students of the arcane."

"Not at all, miss, not at all. I remember my first mission. Stressful as all get out, and I nearly died several times."

Okay, just out of curiosity how is your Diplomacy that high?

12 Ranks, +7 charisma, +3 class skill (from trait), +1 trait bonus, +3 competence bonus, +4 circumstance bonus with Pathfinders my level or lower.

Kyros, previously distracted, turns. "Uh, Sheilantha. I'l grant I don't know your culture but... are you doing what I think you're doing?"

The sorceress looks startled at Kyros, and tilts her head slightly. "Me, good sir? I don't think I'm doing anything more than greeting friends," Her smile goes to Sichelgaita, and a hand briefly touches the paladin's forearm. "And perhaps making new ones. Thaddeus here has completed his first mission, and is no longer a v... novice to the Society. I believe a celebration is in order, and if I can assist in making it good and memorable, I intend to."

She comes to a stop in front of the half-elf. "I'm told I have a talent for putting people at ease, and I tend to apply that talent to fellow Pathfinders. Is that so very bad of me?" Her finger trails down Kyros' chest, then her hand drops back to her side, and her great eyes look up to him with a slow blink.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (18) + 30 = 48

Sheliantha flows down along the bar, diaphonous robes following after. She stops in front of Thaddeus, and smiles radiantly. "We shall have to drink deeply to your success, then. I'll have a whiskey sour, myself."

From behind the tattooed woman's shoulder, a much smaller person, winged and ebullient flies up, and looks around. A smaller version of a radiant smile graces the Lyrakien's face, and she flits to Sichelgaita. "You sound tired, Inheritor's Child." The azata's eyes study the paladin's visage as she croons, and the smile on her face returns as her magic takes effect. (Traveller's Friend, removing the fatigued condition.)

Then off as fast as a dart down the bar, and she stops to admire the regalia on the Eagle Knight. "Liran! Liran Ver'Ha! My don't you pretty up nice. You'll be all ready for Elysium dressed up like that!" The tiny creature looks about conspiratorially, and then with a hand up to the side of her mouth, she stage whispers, "I keep telling Sheliantha to dress up in her full uniform, but she just laughs at me..." And then, quick as a flash, she moves in, wraps her arms around the elf's arm in a tight hug, and follows with a loop in the air in front of him.

Sheliantha raises a brow to the half-orc, but smiles in return. "Why, I would love to hear it. I know a gnome or two that is quite enamored of such tributes."

With a wink to the bartender, Carla may notice that her tankard is filled in a manner much like she waved it, so that it might never empty. The sorceress sits back, both elbows on the counter and her own tumbler of whiskey in hand. Her attention focuses like a physical thing, giving some an idea of what other diplomats might face in her presence.

The smile that plays on her face is a bit wry this time as Sheliantha inclines her head slowly to the blue-and-green clad minstrel. She remains quiet, however, as the discussion grows somewhat fierce, and sits back in her chair to see what will become of the patron-inspired newcomers. She reaches up to touch one of the tattoos on her shoulder, as if noticing it again.

Sheliantha smiles and tilts her head to the newcomer. "Hello, Arania. I have some experience in speaking, myself, but inciting fervor? I'm not sure I have heard of such a thing. I do have to prepare, as I may have to give a speech in front of the People's Council in the upcoming months. I'd rather not have to, but there have been troubles."

She frowns a little, tattoos on her face rippling with the expression. "But, that is not what you are gathering for. I am afraid that I am imposing on the party, what with my allegiance and all. I do hope you can find more to bring in for discourse? I'll be happy to give up my chair, needs be."

The rich, throaty chuckle from the sorceress fills the room, and the mirth in her eyes shines as Sheliantha takes in the gnome. "Why, you won't have nearly so many enemies standing to fight once they have seen the glorious colors Pontificor shows them. Just listen to him as he describes what he can do." Her wrist turns as she directs attention back to the deceptively small figure.

"I have heard tell that the Tapestry can be used for quick travel between a pair or points, one of them at the Grand Lodge, of course. You might want to locate pathfinders with this capability to join your expedition, though I don't know if the Darklands can be part of such travel."

"In the meantime," The dazzling smile flashed by the tattooed woman seems to brighten the room, "If you could be so kind as to provide me a method there, I could study the place, and perhaps visit with a few ... sturdy friends. We could bring supplies for a housewarming party! Though, it would be some time before full casks could be brought in this way."

Her glance moved on to Mister Mode, and she nods. "Oh, yes, free ale. Just... follow the rules as set by our illustrious host here."

Her shrug to Ingrid makes her hair ripple and glint in the light. "If the boys moved on, it's their loss. -I- intend to meet some people, and have a good time, and if it is just a few of us, so be it." Her finger wags to the barkeep, and something green and blue in a tall glass is pushed towards her. "Or, I can keep pushing the bartender to his limits of creativity."

The eyes that rake up and down the tiefling are entirely blue, with the the iris darker than the rest, but the pupil darkest, almost a midnight hue. "Good evening to you, our host. Forgive me if I pry, but I sometimes become too inquisitive. I've been told that I should have been a wizard, on occasion. I'm Sheliantha, and I know you are up on your Chronicles, so you've read of me and my exploits in Varisia and Belkzen."

She presses up from the bar, and seems to float just off the floorboards, perhaps making her look a bit taller than the five-foot-eight frame she has. "I would never have thought Besmara to be a pickpocket, but then, I'm no expert. Do be careful just whose pocket gets explored by fingers, though." She covers her mouth as a rich alto trills a laugh. Her eyes go back to Ingrid, still filled with merriment.

In walks a vision. Sheliantha has long, lustrous hair shimmering as she flows. Once she stops, her legs are inside the powder blue skirt, but once she struts again, they are quite the view. Her smile is a glorious thing, enhanced by the light smattering of tattoos on her face. She moves to the bar, and whispers softly to the bartender, whose eyes light and he almost drops the glass he is polishing.

"You sure, Miss? All drinks tonight? I have some thirsty customers here."

"I am sure, my good man. I am buying for everyone this evening. If your customers are as thirsty as you say, you look to make a tidy profit indeed." The smile glows once again, and a purse slides over, heavy with the metal it contains.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (20) + 25 = 45

The sorceress turns, leaning back with elbows on the bar, and looks over the clientele, blue-within-blue eyes surveying the crowd that she expects to grow.

"Ooooh! Kess, we have to have a talk. My robes, though very pretty, have a lack of true fashion sense. What can you to to help me put my best dressed foot forward?"

"Cuorecielo can go with me everywhere!" Sheliantha flashes a dazzling smile.

Knight-Captain Dame Sheliantha (Tattooed Sorceress 12) has made it to the big leagues, much to the regret of the Lissallans. Time to organize a table of Eyes of the Ten.

"Well, I'm ready to try and talk the Spirit of Liberty into some of these entrenched politicians. I'm told I have something of a persuasive nature, even though I'm not from Andoran itself. At that feast for fund-raising, we found that one guy, but he wouldn't listen to reason at all. I hope that more will pay attention, and the will of the people can be supported in these times."

"I find that my time grows short, however, and I may not be able to help as much as I'd like. I only hope that there is a position open when I return to duty."

Knight-Captain Dame Sheliantha is one scenario from twelfth level. After Eyes of the Ten, I hope she can continue to contribute in some way.

Sheliantha slides in and pulls out a chair for herself. "Mind if we join you?" Her smile is a radiant thing, and her skirt flows around the seat.

"I do so enjoy a good song, and I have friends with a like mind. Shelyn be praised that there is music in the world, and beauty for the eye to behold. Not all is as dark and ugly as can be found in some corners of Golarion in which the Society sends us." Her hand goes up in a signal for an attendant to bring some drinks.

"Have you found yourself a venue or a troupe?" comes with a nod to the flute gleaming in the lamplight. "You seem unlike me, a true professional to my own haphazard amateurishness." A golden trill of laughter fills the room. "I'm told I can sing well, but that's not due to perseverence or study, merely letting out a little of what's inside."

Sheliantha nods sadly. "To absent friends. This WorldWound is a nasty place, and I am very gland the Society has decided to take a hand in assisting the crusaders there, even if it is only to open up the Sky-Citadel."

She sighs heavily. "Hopefully what we learn there will be able to help in the fight against the horrors."

Cuorecielo, the Azata, starts to sing, a beautiful, haunting dirge. The lament to the fallen in the pure, sweet soprano might strike a chord with those present. Any who listen find their burdens lightened for a while, so memory is not so draining. fatigued and exhausted conditions are removed for the listeners.

"Again?" The sorceress inquires with a raised brow. She passes a bottle, while the tiny azata nearby does a flying stagger to bring a sturdy shotglass over from the bar.

"I had heard of the recent attacks, which included the loss of Kenabres, but what has happened now?" She leans forward, chin on hand, to hear the latest story.

There is a rustle, and then a small, winged figure appears, and flits over to Sichelgaita with a quite worried expression on her face. She brushes the paladin's cheek with one tiny hand, and flies up and begins a song. It's a happy little ditty from Darkmoon Vale, with the words changed to something children might sing on the way to a school. The Lyrakien's voice is a pure and sweet soprano, and carries well enough that any who listen in can hear, and feel refreshed.

Welcome back to the raised thread!

Sheliantha flows back into the place with her dress billowing slightly after her. Her radiant smile is in place. "That was quite a night on the town." She announces to the room in general, and looks over those present.

"Welcome back, Sir Roland, and I do think you have it aright. Though, the term 'rehabilitated' might be better than 'thwarted' but then again, we can only do what we can do."

She looks to the other women. "Good to hear of your promotion, Knight-Captain Dame Kerline of the Eagle Knights!" the tattooed sorceress laughs lowly with merriment at her own use of the formal title, and looks to the other human.

"Koldukar. It has been a lot of work to get the information, and to gain the aid and assistance we will need, but I think that learning what we can from ages gone by will be worth the effort. The chance to help against the demon encursion is also something I look forward to."

She moves to the bar, requesting a glass of wine, from a good vintage.

"Oh, great Pontificor! Greatest of the Color-sprayers I have ever heard of!" Sheliantha flashes another dazzling smile to the smaller man.

"I have learned this spell, this Color-spray, but I am not sure I am doing it very well. Could you, perhaps ... teach me to do it better?" She stands still looking in earnest, big green eyes blinking slowly.

"Well, I'm not much of a dancer myself, but, by Shelyn, this looks to be an extravaganza!" Sheliantha flashes a huge smile as she overpays for her tickets. She looks to her shoulder, and the tattoo there, and soon a tiny, winged woman emerges.

"Oooh, I hope they do duets, or Pas de Deux, I think!" The azata, Cuorecielo responds. "I love when people move in and out of counterpoint, like in a song!" She buzzes around excitedly. "When are we going to go? Who can we bring? You haven't -ever- had a date, Shel. You are always so busy saving things!"

The sorceress looks off a moment. "All things in time, Cuore. You know there's so much to be done. But, we will make an evening of it, and we can go shopping for some new dresses. We'll put the seamstresses here in town to a challenge, even if I have to flash a patent of knighthood around..."

"Sichelgaita was sincere in her expression there, albeit perhaps naive. Many of us don't want to hurt others; I for one would like to find a way to dissuade evildoers with sense and reason." Then there's another heavy sigh from the sorceress covered in tattoos.

"I find that with creatures inherently evil, such as those from Hell or the Abyss, talk isn't all that productive. When talking fails, and innocents are in danger, then those like my friend Sichelgaita will do what they are so skilled at, and lay low foul demons and the like. That's what she means about 'not relishing the killing'. Others are much more interested in testing their own prowess and find demons to be convenient adversaries, with no issues caused by the slaying of the foul creatures."

Sheliantha looks off into the distance and croons softly to herself, a tune out of date even in Varisia.

"Fighting demons is all about how you fight, and remembering how dangerous they are. A few things you have to be able to deal with, like darkness, and invisibility, and teleportation, and having your spells dispelled..." The tattooed varisian beauty trails off.

"Sorry about that. Spells are how I fight, and the Babaus seem to be able to get rid of magicks over and over again. But, less about me, and more about what's important. How does a scout for coastal cities handle trouble?"

sense motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Cuorecielo whips her head around to look at Sichelgaita. "Wizard?" She inquires with a puzzled expression. "But you said that..." And then she looks questioningly at Liran. Then when the paladin in question speaks up about sarcasm, she nods with a smile, albeit dubiously.

Sheliantha takes a moment to step in. "We don't have to worry, Cuore. Wizard or Paladin, Sichelgaita is still your friend. And she's perfectly willing to stand between us and the demons." The tattooed woman offers a hand, and the Azata flits over to take a seat, seeming more comfortable almost immediately with that reassurance. She looks over the gathering from her new throne, and whispers up to the sorceress, who nods and produces a thimble glass, to which a server provides a dollop of strong liquor.

"I think we didn't 'meet' so much as Cuorecielo came to me..." Sheliantha looks to the much smaller figure.

The Lyrakien nods in response. "We didn't just meet here on the Material Plane. No, I felt the call, even though Shel didn't think she was calling. It was in Varisia, not far from Magnimar. I wanted to go there to see the Beauty anyways, and I felt the call so I went. And there She was!" Tiny hands gesture to the seated sorceress, who looks off through a window for a moment, with an amused smile briefly gracing her face. "I liked what I saw, so we talked, and then I liked what I heard so we walked, and then, good things keep happening, so I stayed. Shel says that I'm her--familiar, at least that's what the studies say, but really she's my Friend!" The Azata bounces back up to her feet on Sichelgaita's shoulder. "And I meet new friends too! Like Sichelgaita here. She's a paladin!"

Note that Cuorecielo's song before would remove the fatigue condition if the listener wanted it to.

"Hey! We are free to be in any faction we want!" Cuorecielo pipes up. "So no one needs to be enticed if they don't want to be!"

Sheliantha leans forward and murmurs something in the Lyrakien's ear, and the tiny one then blushes.

"Oh, sorry. I think 'entice' is a word that didn't mean what I thought it meant. Maybe I shouldn't try to know all the languages. It gets a little confusing sometimes." She gives a sheepish grin and plops back down on Sichelgaita's armored shoulder.

The sorceress straightens and speaks in her rich contralto voice. "It's part of what attracted Cuorecielo to me, the fact that I can sing a little. I never have time to work on it anymore, what with preparing for missions all the time. Who knew that magic took so much studying?"

She signals and another round of drinks is brought out; glasses and mugs are refilled.