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"Insects," Shikaree says helpfully to the Venture Captain's uncertain gaze. "But perhaps I shall alssso try wine.... "Fellow agents, it has been an honor serving with you. Thank you for all you have taught me. I look forward to reading each of your namesss in future Chronicles," Shikaree says with a deep bow.
Shikaree is less confident than the other agents in their ability to survive the fury of a devil, but edges closer to the others, especially Karayan holding the ring. "We were given a task. And clear orders. We must carry them out. Fight us, and you make enemies of the Society itself... we are few, and inexperienced, but the Society has people who could stand up even to great monsters. We will not be frightened off our task."
Shikaree has been largely quiet throughout, listening with concern to the traded words... the agent edges to the door after the others.
The nagaji's shoulder's slump. "I do not know what manner of fiend that might be, but I am not sure we are strong enough to fight it, friends. It is strange to me that a devil should need such as ourselves to grab these relics, yet.... I cannot say with any certainty. "I do not wish to die before I have even gotten my name into the Chronicless," Shikaree says sadly. Then, the nagaji brightens. "But I would at leasst go down with brave and noble allies, should we choose to fight. "Devil, what say you to Pava's words? Has she any control over you? And Pava-- how do we know you are even who you claim to be? There is much trickery in the world."
Though Serge can't see it in the lead, Shikaree smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Serge. Yours is an honorable spirit." Hurrying forward, the nagaji takes a shot at the NOT-a-snake.
As far as opening arrows go, it's a good one. Shikaree beams! Perhaps the ancestral bow is actually worthwhile after all!
Sure, sorry. The hyperlink is clumsy because it's an ability that references things spread out in several different spots on the medium's class page (shared seance, and spirit boon for Champion spirit), but the mechanical aspect is that it's a +2 static, untyped bonus to all non-spell damage rolls for everyone in the party*, all day long, every day. (Every day I do a seance, anyway.) In theory, it could change to other bonuses, but at this level and with this party composition, channeling a champion spirit makes a lot more sense than most of the other spirits I could be channeling.
"Thiss is a nice day. Isn't this a nice day?" Shikaree says cheerfully the next day once they've set out. Somewhere en route, Shikaree hunts the sight of some old battle between the hobgoblins and the locals-- they can certainly continue to do their daily communing with the spirits just among themselves, sparring, but Shikaree is fascinated by trying to make contact with the old spirits of the original wars. Once again, the nagaji coaxes the others through a ritual to contact the dead of this blood-soaked former warground, where Eagle Knights clashed with savage raiders. Back on the trail, the nagaji hunts any sign, once again relying on good vision.
Shikaree ambles along in Karayan's wake, smiling toothily and doing a serpentine charm routine. With the others, the nagaji adds on, "Yess, they have other ways to make light. Also, they are likely to have animals they have charmed into aiding them! We should be careful not to harm any of thessse tame beasssts, yes? "Now, my friends, before we set out, shall we once again sssee what the sspirits have to teach us...?"
Shikaree looks with dismay at the bow passed down from ancestors. The nagaji shakes a scaled head, then looks back up. "What of this 'child' the evil one spoke of? Could there be an heir, running around? This definitely must be told to miss Adnen, yes! Very exciting. Well done, all of you. We are shaping up to be fine agents. Well. All of you are, anyway." The nagaji offers a bow to Serge. "Thank you for your words, Agent. You are truly honorable."
"Your caravan master has not lost his mind, but he is being swayed by that strange little evil thing he thought was a ring," Shikaree says apologetically. "Do not worry, we will not kill him. This is hardly his fault." The nagaji takes aim again at the 'ring'.
Alas, the arrows aren't getting much more accurate.
"....that was unexpected," Shikaree says, blinking several times with those nictating eyelids. The agent whips bow into scaled hand.
"Pathfinder Ssserge, I understand your frustration at this deception, but please, 'foul skulking serpent', it is a little... species-centric, yes? And this is not even really a sssnake," Shikaree says a touch mournfully as an arrow flies towards the ring that is barely big enough to fit around it. "It is actually a raktavarna rakshasa. They are outsiders," Shikaree adds helpfully, pleased that all those years of reading in the Lodge paid off.
Shikaree listens with wide eyes and nictating membranes over said eyes fully withdrawn, to the ghost's tale of woe. "How heartbreaking! We mussst at once hurry to catch this caravan, no? And bring Althea's soul to some sssort of rest. The sspirits of my people take joy in repeating their great battles, but not all would find honor in that fate. Lady Althea, we will do what we can, you have our word," Shikaree promises the locket, though who knows if the promise is heard. "Was there an owner of the caravan whose name we should ask for? Which way are the headed on the road, please?"
"Wait, why are they-- why is that one--" Shikaree pauses, confused, and decides that the mating rituals of warm-blooded creatures really are unknowable. Oh well. When in doubt, shoot an arrow. Shikaree gets closer, tries to find a goblin not engaged in combat, and looses another missile.
Unfortunately, Shikaree really needs more practice time in the morning sparring, it seems.
Shikaree once again leads the other agents in a careful sparring practice, invoking great heroes of the past-- perhaps of the very Goblinblood Wars, who might have marched through these woods. After that, Shikaree gnaws on a piece of jerky while following Serge's lead, looking over the ground with amber eyes.
"I musst trusst to your eyes, Sseerge. I see little here..."
(Shikaree is interested in these 'yoga pants' and spends some coin in getting properly outfitted.) The nagaji offers a bow at both Jarkan and the Hellknight, and a nervous close-mouthed smile. "My colleagues are.... well-sstudied!" Shikaree says with a small gesture to both Bash and Karayan. Even if the one is a Jezebel with every male she sees, and the other is less than humble... But the nagaji keeps those thoughts private and unsaid. After all, perhaps the dwarven woman is in estrus? One must not jump to assumptions, and Shikaree is unfamiliar with dwarven biology. "I myself am not so learned, Sir Land, but I bring my bow to this journey, and my promise to protect all on it."
If only Shikaree weren't wearing a terry-cloth headband when delivering these diplomatic words.
Shikaree is the only one who seems pleased about goblins and the new missive, clapping scaled hands together. "But this is so exciting! Just like agents in the chronicles! Tracing down leads in the woods, hunting thieves, potentially being eaten by goblins..." A fangy grin splits the nagaji's face. "May I suggest we engage again in the practice we have observed thusss far on our journey, dear friendss? --I hope we are friendss now, but I do not wish to overstep my bounds. I will be in the inn's courtyard after our meal for all who wish to once again honor the ssspirits of past warriors with the remembrance of ssteel." Shikaree looks confused at Bash's words about 'ladies'. If the nagaji had eyebrows they'd be arching inquisitively. "Queen Steeltoe, why are ladies difficult? Please, share with me your wisdom." Shikaree has opted for the porridge, with some extra seasoning of a few mice caught last night in the stables, which get furtively added to the hot gruel. "...we should buy extra rationsss for the journey, if we will be some time in the forest, yes? What is the weather like? Do we need tents, or do we camp in 'the fulnessss of the glory of the open air with no blanket but the gods' own stars,' as Pathfinder Agent Darian Delias wrote in Chronicle XV?" After the appetizing breakfast, the over-eager agent will duly be in the courtyard to once again invoke the souls of great warriors of the past.
Shikaree does pause by the plaque. "Perhaps the mace, or the 'Hellfire rod', once sat here," the nagaji observes. "Alasss. Long ssince gone. Perhaps we will shortly be tracking down goblinss." Before they go to rendezvous with the captain, Shikaree takes the time to circle the old manor, idly scanning for goblin footprints, though unless the goblins were very recent indeed, it is unlikely any sign will be found.
Shikaree reads the crumbling old parchment as Karayan explains it is merely an echo of the woman, unable to truly answer, at least right now. The nagaji's face crinkles with thoughtfulness. "Yes, it seems these items must be traced through more clues available to us now, barring them being in some corner of the rubble we have not ssseearched. But the diviners of the Ssociety may know more?"
"Of course we will not kill you. We started this by trying to talk," Shikaree says sadly. "But you have my promissse that we won't slay you. Come out. Pleasse tell your friend to as well. Jaym, is it?" Shikaree moves to the mouth of the hole and calls in, "Jaym? Please come out, we will not hurt you." The nagaji eyes Kifah. "...probably."
Shikaree hurries after the others as the nagaji realizes this is not merely to be a painting-examining incursion. The nagaji takes up a place in the back of this smaller room. "Oh! Are you the current Master Irrica then?" Shikaree says innocently to the voice. "Then we are visitors wishing to pay our respectsss. May we talk?"
"We might be able to make it worth your while," Shikaree adds as the notion penetrates that mere politeness might not do it.
"Makoa! Well done," Shikaree beams, flashing a way-too-fang-filled-maw at the half-orc. I wish I had such abilitiess of my own, perhapsss in time-- oh, oh, but we're meant to be ssneaking, yes, oh dear. I'm sssorry-- this is just all sso--" Shikaree claps a scaled hand over their own mouth and tries to resume the appearance of a dignified, experienced Pathfinder agent who is totally helping lay an ambush with their colleagues, and not spazzing out. Totally.
With the morning's invocation of spiritual ancestors still fresh in Shikaree's recollection, the nagaji looks excited to be seeing the manor. (Excited enough to not comment on the ball of dwarven ooze that takes on a vaguely humanoid form with its own hissing dialogue) As Shikaree is not particularly light of foot-- and is using a bow-- Shikaree hangs back to let the others scout. "In the training at the Grand Lodge they advissed us to mostly sstick together?" comes the hoarse uncertain whisper. "--that isss, I am not contradicting your experienced battle plan! I am learning, yess, I see!"
"It would be my deepest honor, Pathfinder Agent Ssserge!" Shikaree say with another toothy smile. The nagaji follows it with a head tilt at Marcie's words. When the reverberations die away, Shikaree asks, "This is most interesting. What of a bow, then? For the bow is large, but the arrows are small. Iss this finely worked bow of mine a manly weapon, or a womanly weapon, Queen Marcie?"
"Oh! How remarkable to have thiss music as well!" Shikaree exclaims when Marcie begins her stirring performance. The nagaji sways a little in time with the beat, nictating membranes dilating over the yellow eyes as the sound of steel on steel begins to ring through the courtyard from the more melee-oriented warriors. At a lull in the mock battle, Shikaree approaches Bash curiously. "Please, I am sso curious-- if it iss 'manlinesss' to swing around a large weapon, what isss womanliness? A... large... shield?"
Shikaree is thrilled and relieved to have so many fellow agents willing to meet in the practice yard. "I am sso pleased! It's like we are real-- er, really a team with-- much experience together! If you will permit, pleasse, I will ask a little prayer that my noble ancestors back ten generations bless this practice of arms?" If none object, Shikaree drops sinuously to a kneeling position and begins chanting softly. After several minutes of this, faint wisps of snake-like beings seem barely visible around the najagi, gone if one stares too long directly at them. Shikaree flashes that fanged smile before quickly shifting to the demure, closed-mouth one. "Ah! The ancestorss blesss our practice. Pathfinder Agent Torgrin, never have I seen weaponry sso-- so-- unique! What a-- a novel experience to learn from, yes? --please, do not mind the presence of my forebearerss. They will teach uss as we go." Shikaree's excitement brings out a little hissing lisp, but that doesn't stop the nagaji from unslinging a well-made bow. "I work besst at range, but I would be honored to see you all demonstrate!"
*** Shikaree listens with fascination to the knowledge of the other, well-traveled agents. "How wisse you all are! I am so humbled to be among Pathfinderss so experienced. Queen Marcie, and Makoa the Wise! Yess. It is good. I am so honored, yess, yes, indeed!"
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