Shyrin's page

A post to the games I'm involved in or running:

I'm afraid I no longer have time for play by post games, and won't be able to continue. This is a crappy thing to do, and I apologize for where it leaves people, but you still should be informed even if the information isn't fun. The short of it is that I've recently gotten a new job, which is fantastic for me, but not for my game time. I'm involved currently in training for my new job, while also training my replacement for the previous position, and looking forward to a position that much more hands on than administrative (unfortunately leaving much less time behind a computer).

May these characters I've abandoned in your worlds be used to whatever means you see fit, whether prosperous or disastrous. I greatly appreciate the opportunity you all gave me to play/run some games, and apologize for strings left unfinished.

I bequeath all of my possessions to whoever avenges my death, or calls dibs first...

And to the game I was running, it's like when a TV series gets cancelled mid season. It sucks. A lot. Assume wonderful, but dangerous things happen in your characters' futures.

Shyrin can only see Anya now, as muse flits and bobs around her and her blade. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she rushes in to defend the bard and try to hold back anything that comes close enough to be exposed by the light.

"Can you see anything?" She calls frantically, already knowing the answer as there's no reason Anya could see any more than she. "Muse, can you get close enough to that thing that we can pinpoint it? It must be faltering by now."

Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Shyrin reels back from the gash she receives with a loud yelp. The wound burns furiously, even though it appears to have not dug too far beneath the surface. She's unsure whether she wants to dive at it a second time, especially as the initial slash she dealt is already healing back--when she hears Torilin's cry for assistance.

She turns quickly toward the Zora, who seems to be gathering forces for another watery blast. She can feel the moisture in the room pooling around him like a fog.

"What do I do?" she yells frantically, confused. She can't command waters as he can... but she knows spirits. And they all happen to be gathered in a tomb right now.

Closing her own eyes, Shyrin listens for the whispers around her, calling out as well to whatever spectres might be lingering. Support Torilin, she pleads, drive this grotesque from these halls.

It seems I haven't created any bonds yet! First impressions and all...

Aid Torilin: 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (6, 4) + 0 = 10

Shyrin is hardly a creature of strength, having little to offer in ways of prying this creature free. Instead she lifts her rapier and drives it deep into the creature's flank, while yelling to garner its attention. We'll see how long it wishes to hang onto its current quarry when one as disruptive as she is demanding its attention.

Hack and Slash: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (1, 6) + 2 = 9
potential damage: 1d8 ⇒ 5

Shyrin rolls free and tries frantically to shake the fearful thoughts that cling at her mind. The creature seems even more frightening now that she's free of its grasp and able to dwell on all the possibilities of what might have happened had she not acted quickly.

She doesn't notice it fall, but with the sound of its demise and the shrieking up ahead, she looks up quickly from where she kneels composing herself to follow Torilin's light.

Defy Danger WIS: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 1) + 1 = 7

Then Shyrin knows she's rather weak when it comes to brute force. But she's agile. She quickly tries to duck beneath the creatures lunging mouth and tumble free through the opening at its side. She claws at the ground for a quick escape, while pumping her legs to scramble free.

Defy Danger: 2d6 + 2 ⇒ (6, 4) + 2 = 12

Defy Danger: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (1, 5) + 1 = 7
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

Shyrin shrieks as the statue lunges at her. She's pinned to the ground and takes a vicious swipe from it before she can call out to the others. What is intended as a commanding yell, comes out in stunted breaths and stutters.

"Ge-get this... this... off me."

As it has her pinned, is this something she can roll out of, or must she overpower it?

Shyrin is delighted to see Torilin's face in the opening above, shortly followed by Anya. "Wonderful! Dampe must have gotten you, and just in time. There's some rather disconcerting noises coming from up ahead, and Muse is up there with them I believe, but I can't really see down here."

Following Torilin's jest... "In truth, I rather like the cool earth, and the caves that traverse it. But no (with a wink) this isn't a usual past time. I came here this morning to meditate, but found that this tomb had been blown open. I wanted to investigate, but before I could ask permission Muse dove in. I suppose that makes me a follower."

-------------------

With her rapier held out before her, she slowly begins to approach Muse, but casts a glance over her shoulder to see if the others are following. "We'll need your light, Torilin, and I'll do my best to guard you from anything we find... provided you reveal it with enough time for me to react."

Defending Torilin if he approaches with the light.
Defend: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (3, 1) + 1 = 5

Fantastic! Marking a second xp!

Did that moaning sound seem 'close', or about as far as Muse was? And does Muse emit any light, even a modest amount?

Shyrin's hand instinctively rests on the rapier at her side. The cold touch of it's pommel is calming, reassuring her that she has a semblance of control. She can't see anything in the dark however, nor does she have means of creating light... at least not without extended time and effort.

She slides the rapier from its hilt in her belt and tries to hold it up in any beam of light that might be descending from the hole above. Should there be such a beam, then she's trying to use the rounded guard to reflect any of it forward. Even a prick of light might expose some movement and keep her from being caught completely unaware.

Shyrin shrieks slightly as Muse plunges down the hole. It seems like the tomb would demand a greater degree of reverence, but Muse would know best she supposes. "Thank you, Dampe." she says, exasperated as she too quickly descends. "And I know you're probably exhausted, but could you get the others staying at my home and tell them where I went? You're a good man, Dampe!"

The last words trail off into indiscernible echoes as she disappears beneath.

Shyrin tries to calm Muse momentarily, while looking down at the charred passage to the Royal Family's Tomb. "Perhaps you should take a break Dampe. There's bigger things going on right now than we're aware of, and this might be part of it. Might I be able to examine it for a bit, perhaps go down there, before it gets sealed again? I assure you that I'll help you seal it once we have some more information."

Parley roll just in case. Feel free to modify or disregard.

Parley: 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (2, 4) + 0 = 6

Shyrin looks to Muse for a moment, as if the sprite could provide some sort of clarity. She's not sure what she expected, but the motion was instinctual.

The moment probably deserves tact, or stealth, but Shyrin still assumes the best with Dampe. She rushes toward him, calling out to him with a whispered shout. "Dampe! What has happened? How can I help?"

Back after a crazy week of setting up stuff for the next term. Chaos over for another 3 months, mostly. Thank you so much for NPCing Shyrin enough to keep the story moving!

Shyrin is uncomfortable sharing her home, and works hard not to show it. She's actually pleased with the company, but so unaccustomed to it that she has no idea what she's doing.

She also takes note of the magical property of the rain... it doesn't always seem so, but muse must have somehow caused the downpour. For whatever reason, the earth likely welcomes it.

Early the next morning, she leaves before the others awake to visit the graveyard and the spirits there. If they are to continue up into the mountains, perhaps those from beyond have some insight she could use.

Shyrin's home is modest, especially as most comforts she is unable to enjoy fully. So an ascetic lifestyle quickly becomes the preferable one for the sake of simplicity. It's a small home near the path up to the graveyard she frequents. There's a small fireplace inside and a thin bed. Bookshelves, however, line the walls. Not only are there several books, but the shelves seem mostly covered with tchotchkes of the most eclectic sort. Large baubles, small trinkets, parts of dolls or jewelry, sea glass, etc.

The room feels... balanced... homey. There's something quite tranquil in the simplicity.

"Any who wish to avoid the inn are welcome to stay at my place. I have only one bed, but it's yours as I will be sleeping on the floor this evening. Beyond that, I could show you the way to the inn. Don't mind what locals say about it."

"I've met a couple..." she slowly replies, trying to recall much about them. It's been a while since she travelled, and she wonders if the local stories might have somehow combined with actual experience.

Spout Lore: 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (6, 5) + 0 = 11

With a gracious nod, she takes the seat beside Torilin. "How comfortable, or perhaps uncomfortable, is it to be out of water for prolonged periods?" she asks after a long span of silence. "I don't wish to offend, but I always figure it's more polite to ask then silently wonder. Certainly you realize you're novel to most of us."

Are we travelling with the caravan, or cart and horses? If so, Shyrin would greet them and introduce herself, then try to acquire herself a seat for the ride rather than walk it!

I'm fine with pulling in more if you'd like. I tend to enjoy the smaller groups more than the larger ones, but I'm also slower sometimes at getting in. And with large groups, that means a lot has passed ;) But as early as it is in this game, it's a pretty easy place to bring more on!

The Sheikah appears pleased and intrigued by that response. "Then let us explore the Death Mountains. I look forward to your guidance when we travel to those waters."

Shyrin continues to grin, often content at heeding the wishes of spirits feels quite similar to the somewhat cryptic requests of their current benefactor.

She looks at Torilin with a bit of surprise though, when he speaks of the Gorons. "I anticipated a greater desire to seek out the mountains near your people. That seems nobly altruistic in the name of pragmatism. I think these mountains (the Death Mountains) are a fine choice as well, but is there a reason you don't rush to your own people?"

Shyrin tilts her head, trying to understand what this young girl is up to, or why the others seem to be reacting to her so differently. But keeps her secrets to herself.

------------------

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Muse." Shyrin says with a polite bow and a content fascination. She has to pull her scarf up tighter around her face to hide the smile that creeps across her face as Sheik maintains appearances.

"And it is good to see you again as well, Sheik" comes the muffled but genuine greeting from behind the scarf.

Shyrin is fairly tall for the average female, but not towering by any other standard. Her long, blue-silver hair is pulled loosely behind her head with a narrow series of ties about two hand-breadths before the tail at the end. She has a dark travelling cloak of deep purple wrapped around her, that seems lined in the interior with intricate patterns like the eye on Sheik's adornments. A long white scarf is pulled up around her own face, much like Sheik's wraps as well, though not as tight.

"It's good to meet you as well, Anay Minx." She doesn't take the offered hand, but bows deeply in greeting. "And I'm Shyrin." She offers no last name. "I guide spirits." That last bit is offered with a muted chuckle, as if she's well accustomed to how that sounds.

Shyrin starts as Torilin speaks to her from the water. In truth, she hadn't noticed him there before he spoke. "I..." she begins, but stops as the caravan approaches closer, with its loud rumble across the bridge.

Seeing the figure step out from behind the rock, she tries not to draw attention in that direction. Instead, she speaks up to command the attention herself and provide a diversion if necessary.

"I was called here as well," she states, nodding her head. "though I must admit I wasn't given direction beyond this point. And while its true that one needn't know the destination to follow a path, I'm kind of hoping that one of you at least knows where the path winds from here?"

Shryin is satisfied with the answers. It's been a long time since she's spent significant time with the Gorons. She hopes this experience goes better than the last.

In the morning, just before the sun rises, she sets off for the bridge between Sheikah land and Hylian rule. She doesn't turn back even once as she hikes... focused forward instead, on where she's going.

Shyrin gives Dampe a long hug... as long as he'll allow.

Oh my... definitely have questions! Assumed it was a "wait and they'll eventually become clear" situation.

• Where can I find this 'voice'?
  
• What is this darkness coming?
  
• Why should I trust this imposter?

Shyrin rises from where she sat at the grave, taking time now to finally look at the monument she's been meditating in front of. She is resolute to follow the spirits, and will do as it asks her.

It's dark now... how much time had passed? She'll need to set off in the morning, prepared for the trip ahead. But first, she needs to find Dampe, to encourage him and warn him of her departure. She always liked him--the arguments they'd get into, the mockery that always seemed on the tip of his tongue, but mostly the honest acceptance he offered her in spite of these differences.

She'll miss him.

Spout Lore: 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (2, 4) + 0 = 6
Dang...

Rather than say anything, Shyrin just nods at the young person's words. They do indeed seem deep, especially for someone of such youth. "How much time do I have to decide?"

------------------------

If given enough time to do so, Shyrin will move toward the prominent grave that the impostor Sheikah had been glancing at. Rather than examine it right away, she takes a seat before it and looks at the sparse grass around her, swaying in the light breeze.

When spirits appear to me, they often possess me--using my faculties as a way of communicating with me. Often I will write things on their behalf, or speak audibly as them--switching from my own agency to theirs in what undoubtedly seems like a strange monologue. The language they speak or record is a foreign one, lost to everyone of this time except perhaps the most archaic of scholars. Even Shyrin doesn't understand it. But while possessed... she does.

So she must remember what she read, or what she heard, when it happened. As she won't be able to read it later to remind herself.

She takes a long, drawn out breath through pursed lips; letting go of her current anxiety and pushing aside thoughts and concerns in order to create a space that something else can occupy. Sometimes this takes an incredibly long time, but this time she has a suspicion that the spirits may be a bit more forward in taking up her invitation.

Words From Beyond: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (2, 6) + 1 = 9

Shyrin opens her mouth to deny the young girl(?), but pauses before words pass her lips. The spirits here... they push for something. It doesn't seem like fear or worry that Shyrin may depart, but rather an urging for her to heed this imposters words.

"I... will need to think on this." she says, biting her tongue. [b]"You fascinate the spirits, and you confuse me. Which is not something I'm accustomed to. As I ponder it, though, what would this entail--standing against the King of Thieves?"

Has Shyrin heard anything of this King of Thieves before, perhaps through the spirits recently? She admittedly tries to avoid stories of recent events, but might still recall something now that it seems relevant.

Shyrin calmly steps forward, though every muscle in her tenses at this 'creature's arrival. Something seems very wrong here... but she doesn't need to start with unnecessary aggression. "You speak like you know me." she calls with mustered confidence, "but I don't think I know you. Not yet. Nor am I certain I'm of your people." The last comment was a subtle question as to whether this was another Sheikah. "And many are at rest here because I bring them rest. So one shouldn't presume that I waste my days somewhere without need. This place only appears without need, because I meet it."

By now she hopefully has drawn close to the creature. "But what is this calling you seem to be proposing?"

The Past and its preservation, or her Ancestors the Spirits to be more precise. She doesn't always know what their plan is, but they have a perspective beyond hers and she has agency to act on their behalf.

Shyrin should be discerning realities quite a bit. Wisdom isn't her highest bonus, but it's the stable attribute of the class. So I'll go with the Reputation move. Now for a decision on what she should always be aware of...

The thought of precognition from always getting a free "What is about to happen" looks appealing. The "What here is valuable" is always a tempting option, which would probably be the best choice mechanically because it seems like it would always be helpful. But true to the character concept, "What here is not what it appears to be?" is the best fit. She doesn't get fooled often, and sees past the surface.

Final answer, Terry.

Alright, filling in the profile as well. This is Mog.

Shyrin will be from Kakariko then, and she's trying really hard to blend in. So she keeps to herself a lot, wears clothing that covers and conceals, and interacts minimally. Or at least that's how she's continued up to this point.

I realize the avatar I selected looks pretty distinctly "not-hyrulian", but I imagine a shiekah isn't that overtly different. I just really liked the tattoos on the avatar. They seemed fitting!