Here is thr original SLidell, just as I left him off 3 years ago.
I would have to re-configure to 1st lvl of course, (and make certain there are no remnant of 3rd party stil lin there) but the background and such are there.
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Slidell swims to consciousness with all the good grace of a legless dinosaur. His mouth is full of cotton, and someone is using his head as a message drum. He peels his eyes open, and blinks to clear the blurry vision, then closes them again.
"NnnnGYAAAAH!!!" He cries cleverly as his sleep deprived brain calmly tries to remind him that swift movement is not wise, but his primitive fear response beats it to the punch. In a flurry of arms and legs, Slidell tries to escape and falls to the floor. The mage slowly raises his head up until his eyes are even with the top of the bed. Wide-eyed, he stares at the offender, then slowly closes his eyes and beats his head against the mattress. "I have GOT to stop waking up like that! Shuttup Veran, it's not funny!" He whines to the snickering avian perched on the headboard. "And tell your woodpecker friends to get out of my skull!" HE grumbles as he climbs gracelessly back up and picks up his staff. He examines the fine etchings on the darkwood staff. The pattern formed by the combination of tiny symbols gave the staff a serpentine appearance at casual glance. "Very interesting." He muses as he examines his handiwork. "I don't remember doing that." Then his gaze falls across the other items on the bed. "Ah, now THAT, I remember!" He grins, his discomfort temporarily forgotten. One by one he examines each item for any flaws. By the end of his examination his usual grin is back in place. He quickly flies through a brief ablutions, scrubbing his face in cold water until he is fully awake. He gathers the items and shoves them into his bulging backpack. ("Where's a Handy Haversack when you need one?!?" He mutters.) HE stares at his staff thoughtfully for another moment, then uses it to lift a surprised Veran from his perch and deposit his familiar on his shoulder. Sweeping his wide-brimmed hat onto his head, he almost flies down the stairs, looking for his companions.
The door to Slidell's rented room bangs open, eliciting a loud squawk, of either panic or outrage, from the familiar who was napping on the headboard. The noise is followed promptly by the mage himself, arms full of small assorted odd shaped bundles. "Rise and shine sleepyhead!" Slidell cries far too cheerfully as he tromps loudly to the bed and deposits his loot upon it half-hazardly. "I hope you got your beauty rest, because we've got work to do!"
Giving up on the hope that the wizard would be sleepy after a large breakfast, which he apparently skipped given the lack of crumbs decorating his cloak, the raven preens himself to replace his ruffled feathers, settles them with a shudder, and hops down onto the bed itself. Veran examines the odd assortment of items as Slidell unwraps them one by one, then turns a critical eye upon his master. "Don't give ME that look! If you don't like what I buy, YOU go shopping next time!" Slidell responds petulantly to his familiar's steady gaze.
Slidell replaces the items on the bed, and looks at the collection with a grin. Bags of dust, slim lengths of wood, assorted common stones and gems cut into various shapes, pages of parchment and small bottles of ink. Not to mention the items for Zieke, Ehlissa and Salome. Instead of being daunted by the enormous amount of work he has set for himself and the short amount of time, the wizard looks like a kid in a candy store. The one who can't decide what he wants to eat,... first. Still grinning, the wizard tosses his cloak carelessly aside to join his already battered looking new hat and rolls up his sleeves.
"Let's get to work,..." Slidell's manic energy seems boundless as he focuses on task after task. Instead of getting tired as the hours wear on, he seems to gain energy as he faces each challenge. He stops once, at Veran's screeching insistence, to run downstairs and grab a hastily assembled plate of food from Bethana which he carries swiftly back upstairs. The rest of the day passes in a blur. But bits and pieces stand out like flashes in a night sky,... ,... Polishing the slim lengths of wood, comparing thicknesses, lengths and weight. And cursing when his selected favorite turns out to have a natural break in it. ,... ,... Testing combinations of powdered mica, quartz and glass by flashing them with minor cantrips. And cursing again when a sliver of glass ends up under his fingernail,... ,... Arguing with Veran over phonetics as he struggles to translate a section of ancient text into something pronounceable and still be effective,... ,... Blinking in the middle of chanting over an item as an image of Vesh walking through a gate at sunrise flashes though his mind. He recovers his rhythm and continues the repetitive chant. 'He'll be fine.' He tells himself, firmly putting the image out of his mind,... ,... Night has fallen, and the only light in the small room comes from the two remaining everburning candles. Their purple radiance gives Veran a majestic, if spooky, gleam as he watches Slidell poring over his spellbook, committing a spell to memory,... ,... Wrestling with a length of thin golden wire and his prism-cut quartz. The image of Vesh and the gate returning unbidden as he thinks how the young rogue's nimble fingers would be a blessing right now,... ,... Working feverishly on a scroll, His energy high but his eyes bleary, he blinks to clear his eyes while reaching to dip his quill. Only a swiftly shouted cantrip saves both the scroll and the precious ink,... ,... Sitting on the corner of the bed as if in a daze, An ancient volume open before him, mumbling chants he does not fully recall or comprehend. His silver knife flashing as it bites, taking tiny flecks from the Darkwood staff as he meticulously copies symbols from the page before him into the wood in seemingly random patterns,... ,... Veran sitting on his shoulder as he works. The raven leaning forward almost eagerly, staring unblinking like a gleaming obsidian statue as the mage carves the tiny runes into the wood glowing ebony in the violet candlelight. As the pattern slowly emerges, the bird positively radiates approval,... Slidell stands once again in the room that he KNOWS he has been in before, but cannot for the life of him remember where. The wizard with the spell-shrouded features still sits in his overstuffed chair, sipping a glass of wine as he observes the weary Slidell leaning on his staff. 'You've done well.' The seated mystery mage observes with a hint of grudging true admiration. 'You have grown into your powers. You begin to see your true potential. It is almost time, almost, to call you back.' The figure takes a sip of wine as Slidell, seemingly unhearing, slowly strokes the patterns of his staff as if caressing a faithful pet. 'Almost.' Slidell echoes softly. 'Yes.' The seated mage muses. 'Almost. You have grown in power and ability. Let us see how well you USE that power first, shall we? This little journey you are preparing to take should be an adequate test of your mettle I think. It has hidden dangers you are not prepared for. And your band of intrepid heroes dwindles rapidly. Yes. Let us see how you deal with those first. That should tell us what we need to know.' 'What we need to know,...' Slidell again echoes in a whisper. The skinny mage blinks, and turns is head slowly to look at the figure in the chair, as if just realizing he was there. He squints, puzzled, as he looks the featureless mage in the face. His eyes focus, and he reaches for the unidentified glasses he has taken to wearing on his head to keep his wild hair out of his eyes. Glass and wine go flying in the seated mage's haste to make an arcane gesture and shout a mystic word. As the arcane syllable echoes deafeningly in his ears, Slidell is hurled backwards into blackness, and gratefully falls unconscious,...
Slidell murmured, stretched, and lazily blinked his eyes open. He blinked again to clear the blurriness, and found himself staring directly into a pair of huge, black, glassy orbs! "NGYAAAAAAAAH!" The mage cleverly responded to this imminent threat, flailing as he attempted to rise, but only succeeding in entangling himself even more in his bedding. "Darn you Veran!" Slidell cried, muffled by his persistently engulfing blanket to the bird still staring at him upside down from his perch on the headboard. "You KNOW I hate it when you do that!" He finishes after he finally frees his head. The two sit there for a long moment, gazes locked. Slidell grins. "Good morning to you too!" HE declares, and begins the task of extricating himself from his bedding. "I had the most fantastic dreams last night!" He continues. "Several, I think. Each more vivid and fantastic than the last! The details are fading of course, One of these days I WILL master remembering everything I see or dream, but the images, fantastic. Undead, hidden tomes, giants made from stone and covered in runes, Runewells, the night sky alight with flashes from dozens of spells cast by 2 warring mages simultaneously,..." He shakes his head as he escapes the last clinging grasp of the blanket. "Fantastic! Obviously this business with the Alzanist's chamber has fired my imagination. Speaking of which,..." He grins at Veran and waggles his eyebrows. He then turns and dives headfirst into his pack, discarding assorted junk until he emerges with his spellbook and writing implements. "It came to me during the dreams. I haven't given up on the sound research, but I have a new idea involving concentrating the beam of light produced by the Color Spray spell. If I can figure out the exact prismatic properties and focal length needed for a crystal to achieve a more focused coherent light output,..." He murmurs off, scribbling furiously. A half hour later, the mage declares "Ah-HAH!" as he finishes his final notations with a flourish. HE carefully blows the ink dry before slamming the volume shut. "I knew it couldn't be that hard! And the conjuration spell, well that's getting to be almost too easy. Perhaps I should consider investing time specializing in another line of spellcasting? Naw, I enjoy them all too much!" The mage hastily dressed and grabbed his belongings. "Come along lazyfeathers! We have to go and pick up those supplies I need for enchantment. We need to be ready to leave for Thistletop by tomorrow. I swear, you move so slow in the mornings. It's like you stay out all night or something! Come along!" He called, waggling his shoulder impatiently. The familiar obligingly flew to the proffered shoulder as the skinny mage swept his wide-brimmed hat into place. In the hall he paused and turned towards Vesh's door. "Daylight's burning, might as well make sure that everyone's up!" HE declares happily as he raps lightly on the door.
"Now that's odd. I could have sworn I heard Vesh set and check the latch last night,..." The mage's brow furrows as he reaches and pushes the door slowly open. "Vesh? Are you awake? It's a beautiful day and I wondered if you wanted to go to, the, shops,..." He slowed to a halt as the door opened enough to reveal the made bed, the items laying on it, and no Vesh. "To help me haggle for spell components." He finishes to the empty room. He steps to the bed and looks at the items on it. He leans over and reads the note without touching it. He then begins slowly walking around the room, examining the floor, the bedstand and finally the open windowsill. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, he makes another circuit of the room, ending with picking up the letter and examining it carefully on both sides. Sighing with frustration, he stares out of the open window. "Well,... darnit Vesh." HE murmurs. "Godsspeed." He then closes the window firmly and latches it. And then moves to the bed and places the items there into his already bulging backpack. "A companion returns, a companion departs. It's almost as if there were a cosmic balance involved, eh Veran?" He asks his familiar as he closes Vesh's door behind him. His only response is a shrug of feathered shoulders as he strides swiftly but solemnly down the stairs to find Zieke enjoying a hearty breakfast with Malcolm and Ehlissa looking on. Slidell joins them at the table, giving them a wan smile in greeting. Perhaps noting his serious demeanor, they turn to him expectantly. "It seems," he begins as he opens his pack and begins laying out the items he found on the bed, "That Vesh has decided that our current path is not one he feels he can share." HE places the note on the table, and leans back. After giving them a moment to read the letter, he continues. "I've made a thorough examination of the room and it's contents, and I can find no evidence of foul play. The letter itself is written in a neat, heavy hand. Obviously written slowly, as if he was weighing every word that he was putting down carefully. And, except for the postscript, all very legible and carefully blotted. Not likely if one were forced to write a letter at knifepoint. I believe the single small spot near the bottom of the page is a tearstain. If so, it would indicate his emotional state while writing. He obviously left the room through the window after leaving the door unlatched. The disturbance of dust and scratches on the sill again indicate that he left by himself, under his own motivation and without physical duress. Perhaps we might ask Corran to indulge us with an examination of tracks under his window, but I suspect you will find only Vesh's." Slidell pauses and rubs his eyes. It dawns on the others that he isn't being cold in this matter, but rather struggling to contain his emotions. A bit unusual for the mage who normally wears his feelings on his shirtsleeves. "So," Slidell continues with a sniff. "While obviously my first reaction is to set out and find Vesh, all indications are that he reached this decision after much deliberation, and left of his own volition without being forced by an outside agency. As much as it pains me to say so, I think we should respect his wishes. We could probably find out which gate he left out, but since we still wouldn't know where he was headed, or if he had even selected a destination, it is highly unlikely that we would find him in a timely manner. Logic dictates that we should continue on with our plans for dealing with the most pressing problem first. And Then perhaps we can try to figure out where Vesh went and convince him to return. If you think it's wise. He may only need a few days alone and he'll be fine." HE says with a small smile, obviously trying to convince himself. He sniffed again. "Well, I'm not really hungry. I still have lots of shopping to do. Items to purchase, enchantments to conjure, that sort of thing. Let me know if your looking for anything in particular, I'll try to pick it up for you while i'm out. See you later." And he abruptly stands, grabs his pack, and heads towards the door. One hand resting on his familiar, drawing strength from the contact.
Striding forward, Naelah drops her quaterstaff with a clatter, and gathers the lanky mage to her breast, holding him tightly. "It is good to see you again, Stormraven!" She exclaims as she releases him from her grasp. "How I have missed you all so. And no, no sugar rocks today Stormraven." Slidell stand there, stock-still, as the shoanti woman turns to be greeted by Ehlissa, and takes the proffered seat by Mal and Zieke. He still stands unmoving as the conversation continues. After a moment, he slowly reaches into the bag of candy and takes a piece himself, then sits down, extremely quietly, pulling his hat even lower over his face than usual. A keen observer might notice he seems to be blushing. ;P
Malcolm's looking over Slidell's shoulder as someone enters the Inn doesn't seem to faze the skinny mage in the least. At least not until a warning screech from Veran sends Slidell dodging to the side out of habit. The Raven's large wings beat Slidell's hat about his eyes as the bird attempts escape. Blinded by his hat, Slidell is knocked from his seat by an impact from a large, furry form. He can feel the hot breath on his neck as he struggles to right himself, muttering muffled counter-curses against hellhounds as he tries to get his hat off, waiting for the inevitable snarling attack. When the attack doesn't come, the mage finally manages to get an arm under him, and slowly pries his hat from his eyes,... Right in time to get a face-full of wolf tongue. "Veren!" Slidell sputtered, trying to sound stern. Which is extremely difficult to do when covered in wolf greeting. "Get off me you great fuzzy behemoth! Go on, before I turn you into a kitten!" He says pushing futilely at the heavy wolf leaning over him. Veran, now safely ensconced in the rafters, alternates between hurling screeching birdie-curses at the large wolf, and what sounds suspiciously like laughter. For his part, Veren remains unmoved by either avian curses or wimpy magelings, his tongue still hanging out in canine laughter. "Aw, come on now Veren, this is no way to treat a mage. If Neahlah were here she'd,..." He looks Veren in the face. "But if your here,..." HE says, his face in danger of completely splitting from the grin that appears on it. Impulsively, he hugs the wolf. Then, coughing and sputtering, he manages to get himself and his cloak untangled from the wolf's paws, and gathers what remains of his dignity as he rises to look at the slight Shoanti woman. Slidell is obviously happy to see Neahlah, but seems unsure of how to greet her. So he bows, slowly this time, and manages not to hit his head on anything. "Neahlah. You look fully recovered. It's good to see you. I,.. that is we,.. were wondering what had happened to you. I mean, you were recovering, and then you were gone, and,..." He coughs.
However, as his mouth struggles to catch up to his brain, his eyes take in the details of Neahlah's dusty, traveled appearance and new demeanor. The quiet self-confidence is still there, but the shy, reserved part seems to have been replaced with something more,... energetic. A wry grin tugs at the edge of his mouth as her sky-blue eyes fearlessly meet his. 'So, the gentle breeze has become a Zephyr!' The mage blinks as he realizes that thanks to his distraction by Veren, and his own greeting, he has missed a portion of conversation that has already taken place. "I'm terribly sorry, you were saying? Candy?"
Slidell nods at Zieke's suggestions.
After a head butt from Veran, Slidell looks up from where he is trying to rub his chin raw. He smiles. "Ah! But if you twine enough threads together, you get a good, strong rope!" He raises an eyebrow at Vesh. "And I'm a Conjurer, not a street magician!" He says petulantly. He then winks at Vesh, and looks at everyone around the table. "Alright, Surmising will only get us so far. I think we have almost all the pieces of the puzzle, but Hannah probably has the one part that will let us put them all together. We need to talk to her. If the sheriff is paying her a visit, then she will probably be upset and Salome's presence might even be appreciated right about now. Her information might not be earth-shattering, but we need to know what happened to Nualia. We've seen how powerful and pervasive the charm and foul Milk can be. If Nualia is under it's effects we may be able to save her."
After a moment, he realizes that everyone, including Veran, is staring at him and his unusual fervor. He clears his throat self-consciously, and leans back, continuing as if there had been no break. "And then there's the thorny problem of Thistletop. As much as I personally would relish marching up to the front door and knocking on it, that path will undoubtedly be the best guarded. Since it is a known goblin camp, I can't imagine the Sheriff has let it go unscouted. Zieke, do you know, or can you find out, if there are any 'backdoors' onto that rock? I'll check with Quint and see what the local legends say." "Then we just need to equip ourselves for an enjoyable little jaunt to find a possibly possessed or mutated young lady filled with hatred, in the middle of a goblin infested rock, behind a tribe of goblins and the best defenses they can muster!" Sounds easy enough!" He says, taking a peanut from the table and munching on it.
"That's 'Professor' Stormraven", Slidell responds without looking, absent-mindedly batting as his cloak as if trying to unhook it from a nail. Then he stops, blinks, and turns around. "Hm? Yes,... Yes. I think you may be right there Zieke." He responds, actually focusing on the larger warrior intently, as if inspecting him. He indicates Salome with a wave of his hand. "By all means, Let Salome talk to her first. Speaking Healer to Healer, that may be the best approach."
Salome thinks for a moment. I wonder how many men Ehlissa knows? ;P
Ah...the lovely relationship between a fighter and a spellcaster... ;-)
"Yes, we need to talk to Hannah." The mage echoes softly. "We need to find out what, exactly, happened,..." With that, the tall Chelaxian turns on his heel and begins striding down the street. He is staring at the ground, cloak flapping in the evening breeze, one hand in one of his many pockets, the other rubbing furiously at his chin. He is aimed roughly at the waterfront, and Hannah's place. The bird turns and looks over his shoulder, sending a plaintive look back towards Zieke and Salome.
"Was Nualia pregnant? Slidell begins walking slower as he ponders this innocuous statement,... Once again, the sound of clicks as the tumblers fall into place. "I'm surrounded by geniuses. Why didn't I think of that?" He turns to Veran, "Why didn't YOU think of that?! Hey, wait up!" He calls as he jogs to catch back up to the others. "Zieke, Salome, Follow me on this for a moment,..." HE rubs his chin in a now familiar way as he lines up his thoughts." "OK, in a nutshell, we know that Nualia was different, and was not generally accepted in Sandpoint. She didn't have a lot of friends. And it seems that her adopted father was a bit of a,... well, let's just be nice and say it seems he was strict." "Now, there's really only two places to go to for healing if your sick or injured in this town. One is the temple, formerly Father Tobyn, and the other is Hannah. Both do top-notch work, I'm walking proof!" The mage grins, rubbing at a still-itchy spot of his otherwise perfectly healed burns. "Now, as Tobyn's adopted daughter, she had instant access to the best possible care in Sandpoint. I don't care how many troubles or difficulties your having with your parent, if you are seriously hurt or sick, you are going to go to your parent first! " "The only reason for her to go to Hannah for help is if it was something that wasn't serious. OR,... if it was for something that you DIDN'T want your father to find out about, OR if it was something that a young girl would be more comfortable talking about with another woman in the first place!" He grins at Zieke. "And a pregnancy fits Both of those perfectly!" The mage rubs his chin again. "What I don't understand is why, if this theory is correct, no else seems to know about it. A pregnant girl in a town this size is hardly easy to HIDE, the gossip mill should still be talking about it, along with, everything,... else." "Oh. Spellfire." "Guys, and ladies, the fire in the church wasn't the ONLY thing that happened a few years ago. It was only the LAST." He looks at the others, wide-eyed, but speaking softly now. He begins ticking off thoughts on his fingers. "First, the Chopper's rampage, killing many people before he was finally stopped."
The mage removes his hat, and is almost pulling at his hair now.
"IF she was pregnant, why doesn't anyone know about the baby? What ties it all together? What causes many people to act in a way totally unlike their normal selves? All at the same time?"
He looks at Vesh,... and blinks. "OhNethysSweetMotherofMagic! That's It!!!!" He cries. "Salome! Down below,... before you purified it,... you said if left unchecked the pool of poison would spread and build in strength, until it became strong enough to influence the town above! What if,... no! IT ALREADY HAPPENED!" He cries, speaking so fast you can hardly understand him. "The Quasit had no one to feed the poison to, the pool grew in strength, it began affecting the townspeole, the weaker-willed ones first. A quiet woodcarver becomes a killer, someone, either Tsutso or his father, kills Ameiko's mother, a quiet, unassuming, meek girl sets fire to a church to kill her foster father!" "IF Nualia was pregnant,then the reason no one knows about it is because she left after the fire, so no one found out,... or something happened to the baby,..."
"The baby. Lamashtuu. The Mother of all monsters. Something happened to the baby. Something that set Nualia off completely. And Hannah knows. That's her secret."
Slidell smirks slightly at Ehlissa, "No problem. It's certainly not an insult! At least where I come from. I kind of like the sound of it actually,... 'Professor Slidell',... No. 'Professor Stormraven'! Yes, that has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" HE winks at Ehlissa, then turns to the raven. "What do think Veran? Shall I introduce myself as 'Professor' from now on?" The look the raven gives 'The Professor' sends the tall mage into fits of laughter as he strides down the street.
Slidell chortles at Zieke's initial outburst, but seems content to let the ladies explain the situation to him. HE is steepling his fingers, and staring at what appears to be a spot in space. but he smiles as realization dawns on Zieke. "Yes. She is very clever. She has managed to get us 'out of the way', where she cannot be blamed for any toes we might step on, and yet our relationship is with her is well-known enough that there is no way others could claim any success we might have as their own. I knew I liked her!" He grins, looking back at the others once more. "You are correct Salome, as usual,... Let us retire to more friendly walls, and lay out our plans. I could use a week or more to make some preparations, but Mayor Deverin was quite clear that she would like us to get started as soon as possible. She is obviously as concerned as we are." HE follows the others out, unaware, or uncaring, that they are holding their own conversations. "Now, what was all that about Hannah Zieke? Vesh, when we get back to the Dragon, maybe you should tell everyone what you told me earlier,..." ;)
;P "Ah, I understand. I am only glad we could be of some small service." Slidell says calmly. TOO calmly, considering his usual reactions.
The mage joins Ehlissa in grinning as the contents of the bag are revealed.
"Not That I can think of." Slidell says, rubbing his chin. "I believe that you have covered all the highlights. A very succinct synopsis, thank you Zieke." He stretches, his long legs reaching out, and sits up taller. "I have to agree with Zee here, there are several clues, both blatant and subtle, that all seem to indicate Thistletop." He says with a swift glance at Salome. "Whatever is going on, It does seem to be centered there. And in general, a small group of specialists historically have more success with a quiet infiltration than a large group would have 'storming the castle', as it were." "Not to mention, there are indications that this Nualia has, made deals with dark powers. If Tsutso's diary/sketchbook is at all accurate, there are at least physical transformations involved, and possibly other abilities as well. I'm sure that your recruits are willing and able, but I highly doubt they are prepared to counter either demonic or mystical abilities, whereas Salome and I are both well-trained and experienced in such matters."
"Mayor, I do have one request. You were kind enough to offer us a retainer to help protect the town. That offer was originally made to our former companion as well, whom regrettably has chosen to leave us. Salome's assistance was more than vital in the last few days. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we wouldn't have been able to do it, Shards and Shells, we probably wouldn't be alive, without her. I wonder if you might consider extending your previous offer to her? I can assure you from experience that her faith and skill are unparalleled. Um,... IF she wants it, of course." He says with a questioning look at Salome. "I can assure you, between keeping us alive despite all odds, and sanctifying an unholy shrine, she's defintely earned it!" He smiles.
Slidell enters the Rusty Dragon, clutching a roll of parchments, and Muttering to himself, or Veran, about the different properties of various woods. He waves to Vesh, long legs swiftly carrying him to his room where he deposits his purchases, pack and staff. He then rejoins the Varisian at the table. The mage deposits his hat on the table as he grabs a cider, Thanking Bethana, and settles in across the table from Vesh. He takes a long, appreciative swig of the cold cider, and sighs in happiness. "Did you have a nice rest, stroll, whatever?" He asks, his eyes glinting with laughter. He is obviously in a good mood. "I did a little shopping. Scrolls to scribe, wands to enchant, that sort of thing. Ran into Salome. She was very interested in getting something from the mercantile. Didn't even wait for me to tell her what I knew about the local giant legends. And she's the one who asked!" He says with a smile. He takes another swig, and leans closer, lowering his voice. "I think I have control of the rod now. I decided against testing it in a flammable setting, for obvious reasons." He whispers, waving in the general direction of the ceiling beams, which look freshly dusted. "I used the glasses with no side effects, unless you count the headache, but didn't 'see' anything. Obviously I wasn't looking at whatever it is they show. I only used them looking around the room. I'll have to test them on magical writings, invisible objects, yadda yadda. We'll figure it out!" "I may need some help with the Cup. I found runes in the eye gems. Actually, they're probably under the gem mounts, but,... anyway, they roughly translate into 'From Weakness, Strength'." HE shrugs. "I figure that most likely indicates that the cup produces a strength potion, or it's equivalent." HE grins evilly. "I find that Arcanists of any generation are usually lacking in imagination when marking their items with clues as to their function. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to figure out how to trigger the cup's effect." He frowns thoughtfully. "I do hope that the cup doesn't require a,... tasteless ingredient to trigger the transformation. I only tried water. But if it is Ancient Thassilonian in origin,... Well. They weren't renowned for their good tastes." He shudders, snags a roll from the bowl on the table, takes a bite, and holds up the rest for Veran, who eagerly snags it and flaps to the rafters. "Your welcome." Slidell says wryly with a smirk. He leans forward again.
He sits back and takes another sip.
"And I think you do jump to conclusions. But thank you for the information about giants," answers Salome tersely before walking into the mercantile,... "Your,... welcome?" Slidell answers, realizing that he is talking to Salome's retreating back. The mage and the bird look at each other. They both shrug. "She must really want to get something before the shop closes. Wow. Thistletop. IF we're going to be headed there anytime soon, we need to get busy scribing these scrolls! What spells do you think that Gandethus would like? Would? Wood? WAND! IS that carpenter shop still open?!?" The lanky mage turns and runs down the street, heading for the local carpenter.
:) "There's something in the back of my mind,... where have I heard that befo,... of course, Quint!" Slidell cries happily. "You remember Brodert Quint, the 'Sage of Sandpoint'? I mentioned him before. He's the one with the wild theories about some of the landmarks around here. Like the 'Old Light' being an ancient Thassilonian weapon. I really don't understand why he's considered an eccentric," he mutters aside to Veran. "ANY-way, he also talked about this place, not too far away from Sandpoint,... Oh, now what WAS the name of that place?!" He complains, tapping his forehead. "Shamrock and Thistle?,... Hustle and Pop?,... Whistlestop?,.. That's it! THISTLETOP!" He declares proudly, beaming at Salome. "Thistletop is this small island, more like a really big rock according to Quint, just shy of touching the shore. It's supposed to be infested with goblins. Actually, I think it's one of the few places where they actually know where the goblins are! Anyway,... Quint says that if you look at Thistletop from the right angle, it looks like a giant head!" He beams at Salome, almost bouncing on his toes.
"Ok, what if Quint is right? What if This 'Thistletop' is really the remains of one of the old Thassilonian monuments? The head of a giant statue?! I mean, look what WE just found right here in Sandpoint! We know that the three-eyed jackal is popular with Lamashtuu. We also know that the Imp claimed that she sent her 'daughter', whom we presume is Nualia, somewhere to release some devil-spawn or other that serves Lamashtuu. We know that the Goblins attack on Sandpoint was planned and coordinated by Nualia and Tsutso,... AND we know that Thistletop is inhabited by goblins,..." His smile slowly threatens to reach both ears, and Salome can almost hear the clicks as his thoughts find their places. "SOMEbody up there likes you." He says, gesturing vaguely towards the darkening sky. "I think that your goddess just told you where we can find Nualia!"
JSL-Question,
Spoiler:
I'm trying NOT to meta-game, I remember reading somewhere about Thistletop bearing a vague resemblance to a giant head. Is that something that Brodert Quint (IE=You) actually told me, or am I remembering it from somewhere else? I haven't had time to look up all the old posts yet, but I thought Quint had mentioned it to Sli. "Well, I think we can presume that the three-eyed jackal refers to Lamashtuu. But, a jackal Staring out of a giant's eye?" The mage shrugs his shoulders.
;)
Sli's Knowledge (Local) UNTrained: (1d20+3=11) Sli's Knowledge (Arcana): (1d20+9=17)
Slidell nods occasionally, but does not interrupt as Salome speaks. At some point during this, he manages to swap out his paper bag for his pipe without her noticing. As far as she can tell, his eyes have never left hers since she started speaking.
Slidell stops, straightens up. "Salome?" He turns around. "Salome! Good to see you. How are you doing? Did you have a nice nap too I hope?" He asks, the glance he shares with his familiar promising a 'serious talk' later for not bringing her to his attention. "Are you out shopping too?" He continues, beaming happily. When he is close enough she can speak softly, she asks, "What do you know of giants in this land? " Slidell looks puzzled. "Giants? Sure. I haven't seen them myself, but there are supposed to be tribes out,.. oh, thataway somewhere. I know there are Ogres for certain. I avoided a tribe of them while I was traveling towards Sandpoint. Why do you ask?" "A man I know dreamed a dream in which he saw a jackal looking out the eye of a living giant. Are there tales of such things in the west?" Slidell's expression goes from puzzled to outright confused. "A Jackal,... staring out the eye of a LIVING giant? I don't know much about interpreting dreams, but,... Wait, wait a second,..." He holds up a hand for a silence, the other hand furiously rubbing his chin. "That sounds familiar somehow,..." He lowers his hands and returns his attention to Salome with an intensity she has seen before. He is now thinking only of her question. Everything else seems to have been set aside.
Slidell pulls out his small crumpled paper bundle, and pops a sweet into his mouth, (possibly to prevent himself from interrupting). "Sorry, where are my manners. Candy?" He smiles and mumbles around the bit in his mouth. "Pray, continue." He says, popping another bit in his mouth and obviously preparing to hang on Salome's every word. To his credit, the raven also seems genuinely interested in Salome's story.
I wonder if there's anyone else who could tell us anything."
As the sun sinks slowly towards it's appointment with the horizon, and Salome wanders by the mercantile, she hears a familiar voice. It is hard to mistake. She has heard it so much lately. Sure enough, she sees the familiar form of the tall, skinny majii. He is paying no attention to where he is walking, (as usual) and appears to be talking to himself in public. She realizes now that he is actually arguing with the raven on his shoulders. And this time it is about,... ink? "It took me a year to perfect it! There is nothing wrong with my ink formula! Your just trying to talk me into spending good coin and milking a squid so you can have fresh seafood!" Slidell is saying, waving a bundle of parchment in one hand and a small bag which clinks in the other.
"Funny stuff! Funny Stuff!" The raven screeches in reply in his 'public' voice. "Yeah. Hysterical. When it happens to someone else. Besides, there is no proof that squid ink is superior. There was that one test, ONE, which claimed it produced superior performance when used to pen water spells, But that was written by Jason for Nethys' sake. HE couldn't prove that wood catches on fire if you lit it for him!" "Awwk! Jealous! Jealous!" Veran screeches. "Jealous? Jealous?!" Slidell stops walking, and starts sputtering. "Of that two-bit, weasel-faced, back-biting, @$$-kissing, spell-swiper?!?" Most people turn red when upset or agitated, Slidell seems to turn paler Salome notices. "Next you'll be telling me that I'm jealous because he got the position at the academy! Well your wrong! Even if he did only get it by stealing MY formula, HE is stuck in that dreary old dungeon of a lab all day and night, forced to 'Produce or Perish' as they say in academia. Whereas I am traveling the world, seeing the sights, meeting fascinating people, and unraveling what could very well be some of the greatest mystical mysteries of the Thassilonian Age! Jealous?! HA! You couldn't be more wrong!" The mage decrees in a stage whisper. From the way he is brandishing the roll of parchment he is obviously considering making his statement a bit more firmly. About the bird's head and shoulders. And possibly wishing that it was his staff instead. Veran, for his part, merely meets his 'master's' eye with a knowing tilt of his head. With an exasperated sigh, Slidell lowers the bundle of parchment.
"You know I hate it when you do that." Slidell fusses, almost poking Veran in the beak with the parchments. "Come on slowpoke." Slidell tells the bird, despite the fact that said bird is perched on his shoulder. "I want to check out one more shop before they close. If this rod idea is going to properly channel sound energy, it will require a very certain type of wood,..." He starts moving again, still talking, still oblivious to Salome's presence on the street. As they pass Salome, Veran turns his his head, and winks at her. Allowing the mage to continue uninterrupted.
Slidell holds up a finger, obviously about to say something, then closes his mouth and nods instead. He clears his throat self-consiously, obviously not used to having another talk his way into being in charge of the conversation. "Very well. Thank you in advance. I appreciate your efforts and time. Just, be careful. It may look like a child's jewelry box, but the one we,... recovered, that from was anything but a child. It may be dangerous. See you in a day or so!" And with that, the panel behind you opens and Gandethus takes his leave in the opposite direction. Slidell sweeps his hat back onto his head at a jaunty angle as he re-shoulders his pack. Passing through the portal, he lifts his hat off his head in salute to the unsmiling woman behind the desk. "Thank you so much! Always a pleasure! You have a lovely evening madam!" He calls with his spotlight smile on full brightness. Veran hides his head under his wing. Letting himself out the front door, he takes a deep breath of the cooling evening air. "Oh,... bother! I wanted to ask him what he thought about the cup too! Ah well, I'll see him again soon. Alright Veran, what else is on the list? We need to pick up some more ink and parchment, and a couple of chemicals, maybe we can borrow some pots and pans from the Rusty Dragon? Hmmm,... maybe not. I don't know what boiled Imp wings smell like, but I'm pretty sure Ameiko won't like it in her kitchen! We should probably swing by and pick up our pay from the mayor's office. I have a few ideas bouncing around in my head for some interesting enchantments I'm dreaming up, but I think the biggest drawback is funds for materials,..." He continues to ramble on to Veran as he turns and heads up the street.
"Ah, Stormraven. I hoped it was you. Have you come to repay that scroll I loaned you?". Not waiting for a response, he strolls across the room to another panel - not the one the children went through - and, as the panel slides open, motions you to precede him. ;P "Something like that. Thank you." Slidell replies appreciatively as he enters the portal. He looks back over his shoulder only long enough to throw a wink at the gruff receptionist. "She's truly a treasure." He says pleasantly as he follows Gandethus through the portal to his office. "Actually, I've been a little pressed for time, I haven't had the chance to scribe those scrolls yet. I'll pick up some more ink and get them to you,... will tomorrow be alright? By the way, I wanted to thank you. That scroll worked perfectly!" He sighs in remorse. "I only regret that time didn't permit me to copy it into my tome. Ah well." "I've come across something interesting, and I was hoping you might take a look at it for me. It may be an important clue to help me stop a repeat of the recent,... events, But I can't tell until I can open it." Slidell removes his backpack and faces Gandethus.
He pauses and rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Because it may involve the security of Sandpoint, I probably shouldn't be showing you this. But,... I can't go to the mayor with this until we know what it is,..." He rolls his eyes as he realizes he is starting to sound like Zieke. 'He must be rubbing off on me.' Slidell snorts mentally. He returns his attention to Gandethus. "Look, it may be nothing but an elaborate magical toy, or it may be information, or maybe just something dangerous that needs to be kept out of the hands of the one behind the attacks. Either way, I'm asking if you'll assist me in identifying it and opening it. And if you'll keep what ever it is we discover to yourself. I will, of course, pay you any reasonable fee for services rendered that you request." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out the box, which is currently wrapped in a spare shirt. He holds the box in both hands and looks at Gandethus. "Do we have an agreement?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.
Your knock is greeted by the nasal screech of the secretary, "Open it yourself! Do I look like a butler to you!" Veran turns his head in time to catch Sli smile, with a glint in his eye. He stretches to his full hight, and pushes the door open wide, entering with long strides. Letting yourself in, you are again in the cavernous lobby. Seated opposite you at an impossibly large desk is the mousy haired young woman. "Greetings m'lady!" Slidell smiles gregariously. "How wonderful to hear your melodious voice again! I just need a moment with the headmaster. Won't be but a tic. Is he still in his office?" He says all in one breath, indicating the bookshelf with a casual wave of his hand.
Slidell smiles. "Not on the books, no. Actually I have several, all over town, but they're all next week. I was hoping to take care of this first. I came across an item that I thought might interest him. Was hoping he could help me place it's origin. Like I said, shouldn't be but a moment. Shall I just let myself in? I wouldn't want to interrupt your work." He asks with wide-eyed innocence.
Slidell massages his temples until the pain recedes. Then looks over the items once more, rubbing his chin. He glances out of the window at the sun. "Wake up sleepyhead!" He chides the dozing Veran gently. "We've got to see a man about a box!" He dumps his backpack onto the bed, then repacks it with the box, cup, and glasses all wrapped in kerchiefs. The Rod he carefully places into his vest, taking a strange comfort in it's warmth and nearness. HE adds the wrapped Imp wings into the pack, and, after serious consideration, the volume the Imp was studying. He hefts the pack and smiles. "That's much better. Without all the camp gear and supplies, I can carry this all day!" He chortles. He gathers Veran, his hat and staff and heads out. He passes through the downstairs without noticing that Mal is there. He turns his steps towards the school, and knocks on the door. "C'mon," He mutters, "It's not even dark yet, be here. I've got questions that need answers!"
Slidell removes the glasses and rubs his eyes.
"Unless I'm mistaken, the cup produces the equivalent of a Strength potion. But I'm not sure if it requires any special ingredient to activate, or just saying the gemstone's phrase in Thassilonian." He picks the cup up, and (after wiping the ashes out with a handkerchief), holds it in his right hand and carefully pronounces, in Thassilonian,... "Numb-kar, est-um, potence-kas!"
Sli's spellcraft check vs potion: (1d20+9=24)
Slidell looks back to the box, scratching his head. "Obviously an illusion Veran, but why disguise a box as a box? Unless, of course! She wasn't trying to hide the fact that it's a box, she was trying to hide the fact that it's a specific box! Which makes me want to know why,..." "And the rod, I believe it is an attuned item, I feel confident that I could activate it if I willed it. I'll have to be careful to make sure I don't activate it accidentally. The last thing I need is to be known as an arsonist. After all, there are so many other things that I'm popular for right now! " He grins.
Each item, except the skull, exhibits a magical aura of a different type and/or intensity. The glasses offer faint transmuation; the goblet: a much stronger transmutation; the rod: strong evocation. The box, however, remains a mystery. There is clearly an aura about it, but it defies your ability to classify or describe it. Slidell examines each of the items in turn, Raising an eyebrow at the box. He then places the glasses on, despite the warning hiss of Veran."Interesting." The mage says looking at his familiar through the glasses. "And possibly useful." Still wearing the glasses, Slidell picks up the cup and after confirming it's aura, turns it every which way looking for identifying marks or inscriptions. Finally placing the goblet down, Slidell turns to the box. "Well now, what have we here? Veran, have you ever heard of an object or spell that gives off an aura that can't be identified? The 'Magic Aura' charm is a common gimmik, but it can only give the appearance of no aura, or a different aura. This 'non-specific aura' is a new one on me." He says, lowering his head till it is almost even with the box lying on the bed. He sighs melodramatically as he traces the lid of the box with a forefinger, cautiously, due to Vesh's warning. "My kingdom for a 'Dispel', or even a 'Knock'! Yep. I'm afraid we're going to have to outsource this one V. But who? Do we go with the well-traveled and obviously competent Head of the local school? Or with the slightly eccentric and obviously obsessed local Sage?" Slidell purses his lips as he considers the options. He absently picks up the Thassilonian Rod and examines it, looking again for marks or inscriptions.
;) Slidell wakes up a few hours later, feeling rested enough, but feeling as though there is something he should be remembering. With a shrug, he washes his face and grabs his pack. He lingers over the tomes taken from the library, his finger tracing the embossed cover. With a snort, he puts the tomes to the side and retrieves his own traveling spell book, feeling as if he had just won a bet. After a half an hour of memorizing spells, He makes his way downstairs to find breakfast, and finds Vesh already there, having obviously had the same idea. "Morning Vesh!" Slidell says with a chipper tone. He stops, frowns. "Or is it 'afternoon'? I swear, I hate underground excursions!" He plops down at the table, and after a grateful thank you to Ameiko, tears into his breakfast with relish. For once the raven doesn't fly to the rafters, but sits next to Sli's plate, helping himself to the lion's share of the bread roll.
After eating what looks like enough to fill TWO skinny mages, Slidell pushes his plate aside for Veran to finish, and pulls out the rod from his pack and shows it to Vesh. "Do you still have the glasses and Cup?" He asks Vesh, looking like a kid about to be given free reign in a candy store. "We might as well try to figure all of them out at the same time." After gathering all of the items together on the table, Slidell furrows his brow in concentration. "This isn't as easy as doing it by rote,..." He mutters. Slowly the shadows near him begin to deepen, and his eyes almost disappear into the gloom. He blinks, and his eyes become a solid black, pulling in all light, and reflecting nothing. He stares at the items. "Well, this is interesting,..."
After sharing with Zieke what they have discovered in the last week, (as well as a couple of his personal theories as to what some of those things might mean), Slidell waves goodnight (good day?) to Ehlissa and Mal and wearily climbs up the stairs using his staff for support and cradling a sleeping Veran in the crook of his arm. For once he eagerly seeks the comfort of his bed, but his racing brain will not allow him to sleep. Discussing the last week with Zieke has re-opened the entire can of worms in his mind, and he lies there for an unknown length of time turning things over in his mind before finally succumbing to his body's need and passing out. Slidell stands in A shadowy yet familiar room. Seated in a large comfortable chair in front of him is a lean figure in an exquisite robe, sipping from a small crystal goblet. The figure's face is blurred, unrecognizable. "Well, well, well." Faceless says, with a hint of a smile in his voice. "You managed to survive your encounter with a Demon, and you managed to acquire a possible king's ransom in valuable tomes as well. Not too bad. You may live to fulfill your, potential, after all." "I aim to please." Slidell smiled back casually. "Especially when it's my survival on the line!" Faceless raises his glass in a small gesture of a toast, and takes another sip. "I want you to concentrate on the tomes for now. All else in unimportant. Even if they are nothing more than dreary daily journals, they may contain clues to the Runelord's research, or even another hidden vault." He says in a tone used to immediate obedience. Slidell opens his mouth, then closes it with a frown. Faceless leans back in his overstuffed comfortable chair, an aura of smug satisfaction apparent in his manner. "I'll get to the journals." Slidell says at last. "I have as much desire to know what's written in there as you do. But there are other items that we retrieved from the hideaway, and they need to be identified as expediently as possible. They may be either extremely powerful, or merely useful. Either way, we may need them soon, and I intend to make certain they are ready." He finishes calmly, staring at Faceless as if trying to penetrate the veil concealing the features by sheer will alone. The elegantly dressed figure stiffens, and he responds in a voice suddenly quiet and chilled as ice. "You will listen to me,..." He begins, ... "Yes, there's always a first time. Speaking of that, Don't you mean 'FIRST' encounter?" Slidell interrupts calmly. "I,... What?" Faceless stops, obviously thrown by the sudden change in topic. Slidell smiles. "You said, 'You managed to survive your encounter with a Demon', And you are normally so very precise with your speech. Didn't you mean, 'your FIRST encounter'?" He asks, all wide-eyed innocence. Faceless sits, unmoving. When he speaks his voice is still cold, but there is a hint of grudging respect in it. "You, 'Slidell', are nearly as clever as you think you are." "And more importantly, I'm more clever than YOU think I am!" The mage replies cheerfully. "For example,..." Faceless holds up a hand, and Slidell stops speaking from habit. "Study your cast-off toys and pursue your 'quests' little mageling." Faceless says into the abrupt silence. "I can afford to be patient, for now. Rest. Sleep. Study. Learn. We WILL continue this discussion,..." Abruptly, without even a gesture, the fuzzy room and Faceless man fades, and Slidell drifts deep into an exhausted slumber
Sli's words cause Zieke to frown in his usual annoying way. "What are you saying, wizard?" he bluntly asks, "Do you have knowledge or suspicion of someone inside Sandpoint aiding this army of goblins and Nualia? If so, you need to speak clearly rather than cloaking what you know in one mystery after another." Slidell frowns in an almost uncanny match to Zieke's. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm," HE slaps his forehead. "Of course! You came and joined us even later than Salome did! You don't have any idea what I'm talking about!" He grins. "Look, maybe you're really good at puzzles and enjoy the mental challenge of figuring out every little piece of a good mystery," he says, "I assume that's so you can be perfectly correct when you finally reveal everything to those who might be interested in your conclusion.",... "That's close enough to the truth." Slidell murmurs as he nods for Zieke to continue,... ",... But I deal in reality. The here and the now. I assess a threat. And I respond to it. And that's what I'm very good at. Now I can help you if you've got information. Even if you've just got suspicions, I'd urge you to share them with me now rather than wait until you're sure. That way, at least there's two of us keeping an eye out for trouble before we go wrongly accusing anyone." "That's what I'm trying to avoid. Look, it's not just us two, Vesh, Mal, Ehlissa, we've all been gathering bits and pieces of several possible puzzles. It could end up being all part of one big tapestry, or half a dozen completely unrelated puzzles. I just don't know yet! That's why I need more time."
Slidell gives a grin. "Are you sure about that? This could take a while."
Slidell jumps, startled, as Zieke gets up from the table. The lanky mage rises from the table. "I'll walk you out. Ameiko'd want the door locked behind you I think." He says, waving an arm to indicate that Ameiko isn't currently in the room. They make an odd couple as they walk toward the door, the large, heavily muscled warrior and the nearly as tall, thin, lanky bookworm. When they reach the door, Slidell fiddles with the sturdy lock for a moment. Finally he gets it to 'click' open, but instead of opening it, looks back to Zieke. "Look, I know we don't exactly see eye-to-eye." He says quietly, but intently. "But I do realize that you feel a sense of duty. And I'm the last person to criticize someone doing what they think is right. But I'm asking you to be VERY careful whom you relate your tale too. The Mayor, alright. The sheriff,.." Slidell bobs his head from side-to-side. "Alright. The Mayor would probably tell him anyway if you didn't. And they did kind of hire us together. But there are wheels within wheels here, and situations that we haven't had time to discuss or explain to you yet. We know most of the major players in this little drama, but there are others mysteries intertwined, and we don't know if they are in it alone, or have others helping them. I'll be glad to answer any questions, and explain everything, or at least as much as we know, tomorrow. But until then, please,... Please,... don't tell anyone else until we have a chance to get to the bottom of this." Slidell looks into Zieke's eyes for another moment, then opens the door for him, and grandly motions in a sweeping 'you first' gesture with a lopsided grin. He watches Zieke leave, then locks the door behind him and returns to the table with Ehlissa and Mal. "So! What do we have left to look at then?" He asks, taking a deep draft of cider and looking at what they've collected from the Ubermage's hidden workshop. "A lot of this will be more valuable to us if we keep it and make use of it than if we sell it!" He exclaims finally. "But I'm pretty beat, maybe we should wait till tomorrow before I try to determine what these other items do,..." He starts murmuring about miscast spells and side effects,... ;)
"If any of you can piece together these clues about Nualia's plans and the...quasit, you called it?...let me know. I'd like to talk to the Sheriff about bringing this fight to their door for a change. Shalelu isn't the only one that can scour the wilderness around Sandpoint. I think together the lot of us might do some good work on behalf of the town and solve this problem before any horde of goblins or fell beasts descend upon us." Slidell nods absently as he idly traces a seven-pointed star on the tabletop. "I think we can do that. After all, hints and clues are just pieces of a puzzle." He says, looking up with a grin. "And I'm very good with puzzles! Give us a couple of days of rest and study time. We'll figure out where she went, and how to stop her." He adds positively as he watches Vesh and Salome walk out together, a look of, approval?, on his face. He returns his attention to the others and raises his glass before taking another drink.
;) "You better be sure you're over your moment of madness," he threatens before the final bond is loosened, "Because you lay hands on me or the priestess again and it won't end well for you. Third time's the charm, they say. You've had your first two. The next one, I'm pulling no punches. Because if Lamashtu has any further hold over you, you're a threat to Sandpoint...and that's something I'll be forced to deal with on a more permanent basis...before someone gets really hurt." At this Slidell stiffens. It may only be a trick of the magic candle, but Vesh and Mal would later swear that they saw Slidell's eyes gleam with an inner light. As the 'Enlarge' spell wears off and Zieke returns to normal size, Slidell takes a deep breath and opens his mouth,... and has his ear nipped by Veran. After a brief glaring contest with the bird, Slidell reluctantly nods and releases the breath he had been holding. He then mutters under his breath in an odd, guttural, hissing tongue. He would later confess to his companions that he had been counting to 100. In Draconic. Slidell breaks the mutual silence only once on their way to the exit. He was the last to climb the rope before Zieke on the way to the entry room. "You seem like an honorable man." Slidell whispers, deliberately not looking at Zieke as he tests the rope and prepares to climb. "And you obviously take your duty and oaths very seriously. But I would like to remind you that Vesh was not the only one to succumb to the statues power and drink the Milk. Even I, for all my braggadocio, was hard-pressed to keep my faculties in that room. It could just as easily have been any one of us." He turns his head to look Zieke in the eye. No mean feat, even for the taller than average Mage. "Please remember that before you make any more ultimatums regarding dealing with anything, 'permanently'." He holds up a long fingered hand to forestall any response. He opens his mouth again, closes it, and breaks eye contact before either can see anything they might not want to see. "I don't like bullies." He whispers stonily, and then begins to climb without waiting for a response. :)
"What is to be done now? Hmm? If there is more for us to do, I'll do it. If you'll still have me. If you won't, speak, and I'll collect my share and be on my way." Slidell looks up in shock. "Where would you go? No. Scratch that. You can't go!" He declares firmly. "If you go, who's going to help me figure out these what these are, hmmm?" He says with a hint of his old smile as he pats the backpack and bag lying protectively under his arm. "Besides, If you leave then how am I going to solve your little mystery, eh?" He asks, referring to their first conversation about Vesh's unidentified shadow a week ago. 'Though it feels more like years instead of days right now.' Slidell thinks wearily to himself as he idly pats the sleeping Veran. "Vesh. It wasn't your fault. The charm was insidious and the potion was powerful. It could have happened to any of us." He adds with a meaningful glance at Zieke.
He takes a sip of his cider. "Besides, we now know that Nualia's out there somewhere. Sent to awaken, what was it the Quasit called it? Some sort of beast probably. All I know is that if 'Queenie' wanted this thing for her little group, it's probably worse than any dozen Goblins you'll ever see. I think that we've done pretty well together so far. I would hate to break up the group after all we've been through so far." He takes another drink,...
"You're alive," he continues, "Salome's faith has driven away the madness of Lamashtu from this place. And you caused no permanent damage to anyone. Be happy with that. Because anything more specific will only make you feel worse about it. And it'll make me angry all over again." Slidell looks away from Vesh and up towards the dark ceiling and Zieke's face with a glare that is obviously lost on the giant warrior. "And people say thatI'm the one with the lousy bedside manner?" He mutters incredulously just loud enough for Vesh to hear. "Slidell?" he asks, "How much longer is this spell of yours going to last? I don't imagine it'll make for easy travel back through the portal and tunnels. Can you end this...?" "Tempt-iiiiing,..." Slidell mutters once more, with a wink to Vesh. He looks back up, hands on his hips. "It should only last another thirty seconds or so, by my reckoning. Then you'll probably have a few moments of disorientation as,..." Zieke suddenly sways slightly as Slidell and Vesh seem to slowly grow larger in his eyes, then rapidly expand to fill his vision. ",...you regain your normal size. Hm." The mage looks to Veran with a raised eyebrow. "I must have lost count. What did you have?" "Someone please unbind me." "Hm? What? Oh. OH! Of course, just a moment,..." Slidell mutters as he fiddles with the knot holding Vesh's wrists, then finally makes a gracious motion to Malcolm, who swiftly unties the knot.
;)
As the golden glow permeates the room, Slidell closes his eyes reflexively. As the glow fades, he blinks, relaxing muscles that he hadn't even realized he was holding. He breathes in a deep breath, and smiles. "Can someone please untie me?" "Whatever came over me has passed." Slidell looks around, a puzzled look on his face. Then notices Vesh at his feet. He helps Mal get Vesh up and on his own feet. "Welcome back." HE says lightly, carefully scrutinizing Vesh's hands and face for any remaining signs of the Milk's effects."How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened? How many fingers am I holding up?" Holding up a single finger with the last, almost poking Vesh in the nose with it as he intensely stares at Vesh's eyes.
;) At Salome's gesture, Slidell nods assent and assists Mal in picking up the unconscious Vesh, and carrying him into the room near the circle. The tall mage avoids looking at Vesh's face, possibly afraid of what he might see there. Once again displaying that rarest of skills, when to keep his mouth shut, Slidell offers no assistance or commentary as Salome carefully diagrams her Holy Circle and empowers it with water and prayers. But Both he and Veran, once again ensconced on his familiar perch, keep their eyes constantly moving over the entire scene so as not to miss a single detail. At one point when Salome and Ehlissa are deep in prayers, Mal notices Slidell's hand make a gesture. His fingers all bunched up together, Slidell moves his hand in a rising, curving motion, and ends by spreading his fingers wide. He recognizes it as a gesture used by followers of Nethys to ward off evil. Slidell's eyes never leave Salome as she reads from her glowing scroll.
;P Slidell is adding the handfuls of powder in a carefully calculated rhythm. When the dark liguid begins to bubble and smoke angrily, the tall chelaxian instinctively ducks down and raises his cloak, placing him below the rising acrid vapors and avoiding the worst of their effects. "What are you two doing?" he asks, "Let's push this thing over and get out of here..." "Just a little cooking, Aaaaand I think we're done here!" He smiles at the grey sludge, and follows Salome around to the back of the statue. "Sounds like a plan. Let's dump this thing before that fountain begins to generate more Milk and undoes our hard work!" He smiles at Salome as he takes his place behind the statue with the rest.Sli's STR Assist Others Roll: (1d20=19) ;P
After pondering for a few moments, the thought suddenly occurs to you. The Milk is acidic and the mortar is composed with lime - an alkaline material. If mixed together, the mortar and Milk should react to each other and the resulting substance should be easier and safer to remove/dispose of. ;P
Slidell pokes and prods at the floor, chewing his lip in concentration.
"Of course!" He crows. "Even back in Thassilonian times, they had to use basic building techniques! Lime for mortar! If mixed properly, The mystical properties of the Milk should be enough to break down the mortar, and reactivate the lime's original alkaline properties. Which should in turn be able to negate the Milk's acidic properties, rendering it inert! Or at least inert enough to move safely. Simplicity itself!" Stepping away from the Milk contaminated area of the floor he swiftly kneels and pulls out a small rolled leather case. Unrolling it on the floor it turns out to be a kit with a small hammer & chisels, a tiny pick, and brush. Happily humming a nameless tune to himself he begins excavating mortar from between the flagstones, brushing it up, and depositing his collection into his hat. Once he's gathered a few handfuls he rolls up his tiny tool kit and carries his hatful of mortar to the statue. Pursing his lips, he idly dribbles some powdered mortar into a pool of Milk on the floor and observes it's reaction. He repeats the procedure in another spot. Nodding in satisfaction if not joy, he approaches the large collection of milk on the floor under the basin. Brow furrowed in concentration, he takes a handful of mortar and begins pouring it into the puddle. Counting under his breath, he stops, counts, and continues. Keeping a wary eye on the powder-covered slick on the floor, he carefully reaches over the main basin of the statue and begins pouring a handful of powder into it. "Don't mind me." He addresses the statue as he grabs another handful while keeping count with a bob of his head. "Just adding a little seasoning, be done in a jiffy!" He smiles as he adds more mortar to the mixture in ever-increasing handfuls and speed,...
Slidell hastily steps aside as Zieke comes stomping by, holding out his arms for balance. "Watch your step big guy. I don't want to end up Mage Putty!" He smiles as the now 12' tall Zieke lowers himself to the ground and begins working on the plate. The mage turns to smile at his familiar, then furrows his brow. "What are you still doing here? This is getting too dangerous. I can feel the statue's enchantment trying to beguile me even now. Why don't you get out of here? Go and keep an eye on Vesh. And holler if you see anyone look like they're trying to take a drink." He adds as an afterthought. Veran looks at the statue, but for once the mouthy avian doesn't back talk. He simply bobs his head in silent agreement. Slidell walks towards the door where Mal and Vesh are, and when they are within arm's length the raven launches himself through the doorway with a single sweep of his wings. He settles to the ground and leans his head to the side, looking at Vesh. Slidell turns and lets his long legs carry him back towards the statue. He bends over, and producing a couple of long, thin sticks from his pockets, begins to gently prod at the ground where the milk has collected in the seams of the stonework. 'Now, what have we here?,..." He asks no one. He continues muttering about 'acidity', 'porous mortar', 'decomposition' and 'foundation' as he pokes and prods various areas of the floor.
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