Cutthroat Lawyer

Slowdrifter's page

44 posts (884 including aliases). No reviews. No lists. No wishlists. 8 aliases.


1 to 50 of 73 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | next > last >>

1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

”Small, trim, well-muscled - I don’t know enough about food to know whether that would be tasty,” Ari feigns a look of serious contemplation. ”Though I suppose if it’s going into sausages it probably doesn’t matter so much. I am, however, in favour of supper and on balance I think I’d prefer you to be cooking rather than cooked,” she says to Kiley with a grin.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1
Kiley Sherrow wrote:
"I guess I do," Kiley says when Ari mentions she must have decent muscle tone and plenty to be positive about. Water sloshes and it sounds like her voice is echoing in the tub more. "I've just never wanted to attract attention, but I also don't want people treating me like I'm a child. Being short and freckled has caused a few to guess I'm a lot younger than I am."

Ari reflects on Kiley's words, "Yeah, that's fair enough." For sure the woman's diminutive height and appearance could certainly lead people to conclude see her as a child and she knows that she would find it annoying if others looked at her that way. "Not usually a problem I've had," she says drily, "they're usually more concerned about whether I'm going to eat their children. So yes, I totally understand the urge to blend in - hence Aamina, darling." She slips into the air genasi's breathy tone for the last bit. "And as much as I enjoy dressing up, if this is your baseline," she sweeps a hand down the length of her body, "believe it or not, it can take a lot of work. If I could do it easier I would, as sure as dwarves have beards. So I'm probably just jealous."

Her voice flips again, taking on a sultry quality. "Of coure, coming full circle, standing out," she does a theatrical little cough, "can have it's advantages. You have to be a bit discerning - and it's not always immediately obvious who is an ass, as opposed to who has one - but I've usually found that those who don't immediately spit on you is a good starting point for winnowing out those worthy of your time and attention." She tilts her head back, stretching out her neck and spreads her arms wide. "And I don't think I do too badly, all things considered - life is for living, after all," she concludes.

* * * * *

At Lysandra’s question of what brought her here, she shrugs. ”Oh you know, the usual. Lure of adventure and all that. Pays better than flirting with bar patrons while you serve them drinks too.” Her finger traces a pattern on her waist above where her tattoo is located.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

”Ah, you can only play the hand you’re dealt. Those who put Sune in the shade are few and far between so we all have to make use of what we’ve got. And the bottom line is we’re all pretty similar really.” Ari’s tone has flipped to a more serious one, even if the topic hasn’t noticeably changed.

You must have decent muscle tone,” she says to Kiley. ”I watched you swing that enormous sword around earlier - and note how I’m diligently avoiding making any jokes here. I doubt I could even really lift it, yet there you are hewing goblins in half. But more than any of this, it’s about confidence and how you feel. And it seems to me you’ve got plenty to be positive about.” Ari is not a natural cheerleader, being rather too self-centred for that but the downbeat response to her banter means she feels the need to try and make amends.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

”I don’t know, sweetie. It’s not always easy to tell under such loose-fitting clothing and all those scarves,” comes the inevitable reply.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

"It is," Ari agrees, picking up a glass and necking the whole thing in one. "Have another glass for me, Shaggar." she adds. She grabs a couple of sausages, inserts them between a pair of toast slices, and saunters off. "Bath time," she calls over her shoulder, in case the towel draped over her arm wasn't enough of a clue.

Ari, too, has no concerns regarding modesty. If anyone was curious enough to know what this tiefling looked like disrobed, they would see that she looks very much like a human woman only rather bluer of skin. And with a tail. Still chewing on the last of her sausage sandwich, she removes the sole dagger she currently has on her person and puts it on a chair along with her clothes and towel. "Bad time to be caught defenceless," she says by way of explanation. She picks up a bar of soap with her tail and slides into the tub.

"Are you alright there, Lady Kiley?" she calls teasingly to the woman behind the screen. "I'm sure it's nothing we haven't seen before countless times before."


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Combat map

The next morning dawns grey and chill. A light mist rises from the river, clinging to the roofs of the buildings along the harbourfront and giving the place a faintly haunted look. Somewhere behind the cloud cover a pale sun can be perceived in the sky, not yet strong enough to penetrate the murk. But at least it is there.

No doubt a bard would say that this is the perfect metaphor for the group right now: still in a bit of a fug grappling with the events in Ravenmoor. Despite the rest and healing on the journey to Elidir, it would probably be a stretch to say that you’re entirely fit and well. It only takes a glance to see that Constantine is not currently the same man he was before. And for all the wrongs that you may have righted, the damage caused by the cult of Ghlaunder, its tragedy and its reckoning, will be painful and take the village time to recover from. It is a hard lesson that not all stories have entirely happy endings or neatly tie up all the loose threads.

Still, for the first time in generations, the villagers are free from oppression and have the opportunity to forge new paths. For the Saingallow Seekers (if such you are now named), too, it is time to return home, ready to start afresh. Although the circumstances of the reunion with Sirio were bittersweet due to Constantine’s condition, his return to the group has given you all a lift. The priest’s fierce reaction to his old companion’s plight and the good news of the legal ownership of Saringallow Manor being secured serves as a welcome reminder of why you all make such a formidable team.

It is only a couple of days’ travel by riverboat from the Isgeri capital back to Saringallow but despite the volume of traffic, booking passage proves less easy than you had hoped. Many of the boats currently in the dock are not yet departing or simply do not have capacity for a group of your size. After a handful of negative responses, however, you finally strike it lucky and secure passage on the Mermaid’s Kilvanion.

Captain Erardo Rufinus of Logas is a broad-shouldered man of middling years with the unmistakable look of a sailor to him. Having deposited much of his cargo in Elidir he is more than happy to take on paying customers in its place. Hannelia leads Constantine to the barge early and is able to secure a cramped cabin that is clearly usually filled with goods and is scarcely big enough for the two of them. Still, at least that means Constantine can have a more restful journey and Hannelia hopes that her stomach also finds the passage more gentle than she has found much of the river travel.

The cheap price - Captain Rufinus seems only too happy to pack people in like the cargo he has just delivered - has attracted quite a crowd and you make up a good proportion of the two dozen or so people also boarding the Mermaid’s Klivanion. Once on deck you are able to take in the rest of your fellow travellers. Most have the look of Isgeri locals - labourers, merchants, artisans - but among them are a few more colourful characters.

Off to one side a pair of Chelaxian nobles are engaged in a heated discussion with the captain’s second-in-command about the sleeping quarters, which will be two large dorms, one male and one female, strung with hammocks for the single night you’ll be spending on board. Clearly used to haggling, the woman is brooking no nonsense and manages to get them to part with further coin in exchange for a hastily modified store cupboard that makes Hannelia and Constantine’s cabin look positively spacious. ”You can sleep in it if you like,” she shrugs, ”but good luck hanging anything up in there.”

Scanning the rest of the passengers, a red-headed dwarf dressed in a long patterned green tunic, belted at the waist into a dress somewhat akin to a jester’s motley, stands out among the crowd. Her expression is as awkward as her presence is incongruous and her appearance gives you the impression of a rather stocky dryad.

Leaning over the rail at the bow is a Varisian man, his garb and the glimpse of tattoos on his arms clearly marking him as a traveller. His black hair is pulled back into a ponytail and a silver walking staff also rests against the rail, mirroring its owner’s posture.

Perhaps most striking of all is a tall woman and her two attendants. Delicate features are framed by ringlets of tightly coiled dark hair, a beauty who would draw the eye in most situations. Yet at first glance her face is almost an afterthought, clad as she is in the dress of a Calistrian priest, an elaborate confection of leather and lace that leaves little to the imagination and doesn’t look like it would do much to keep out the cold of a spring morning.

At her appearance Scrent launches into a loud coughing fit and Shel blushes deeply, alternating between blatantly staring at the beautiful woman and studiously averting her gaze. ”Um,” she asks in a whisper, ”why is that lady wearing clothes that ain’t really clothes?”


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Combat map

Again, just for the record, in Elidir you have a 75% chance of finding any magic item up to 8,000 gp. In Saringallow it's 75% chance to find anything magic up to 4,000 gp. And basically guaranteed to find anything non-magical up to those prices.


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Combat map

A couple of things I'll put here for easier future look-up than getting lost on Discord.

When whoever has been GMing returns to the action, they can bring their PC up to WBL as they see fit, factoring in anything from the loot that is earmarked for them. In-game this is their reward for whatever it is their character has been off doing while the others have been adventuring.

The rest of the party who had been on that particular adventure just splits any gold from it between them and can sort out their own gear accordingly.

I think this keeps it easier to try and ensure suitable WBL for at least one person and aligns with Majara, Hawk coming in above level 1 at the right WBL.

* * * * *

Also: a little character reward. I like the idea of the odd additional reward as we go to reflect character growth and changes - who your character starts off as isn't set in stone for the entirety of your career. Nothing game-breaking but a little extra boon is always nice. Plus - spoiler alert - I love traits. And I think it's a nice bit of mutual backslapping for us doing a great job keeping this game going for a good length of time now, especially dien and Kubular for their GMing.

To that end everyone can pick up an additional trait for free when they're levelling up to level 4 (Hawk, just go ahead and add another one). Standard restrictions apply in that you can only have one from any given category. Campaign and regional traits can be reskinned to fit flavour-wise if necessary (I think that was what we said at character creation); campaign traits are usually a bit more powerful but hopefully not dramatically so. Please shout if any questions.

And a reminder that per dien's original post on the matter, if you want to swap out anything from your build as you go, you can with no penalty. If a feat or spell choice hasn't been working for you or you realise you want to go down a different route, it's no problem to fix it. We want to keep things fun and everybody happy with their character.


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Leaving Ravenmoor

Short and to the point, thinks Hannelia at Saul’s remark. ”I will,” she promises. ”And I’m holding myself responsible too.”

She dips a hand into the pouch at her belt and pulls out a tiny duck egg blue feather. ”I think you should have this,” she says, placing her fine fingers into the man's larger, meatier hand to transfer possession of the token.

”If you ever need to contact Shel - or me - this will turn into a bird and carry a message to us, wherever we are,” she explains. ”You can only use it once so it's probably best to keep it for an emergency. It doesn’t allow a return message but it will get through and we’ll work out a way to get in touch as soon as possible, even if that means travelling all the way here.” She looks up to meet Saul’s gaze, checking he has understood.

Saul Lupescu nods and mutters a surprised ”Thank you.” The way his eyes light up suggests that the magical source of communication has removed just a small portion of his concern.
Hannelia gives Shel’s shoulder a squeeze to signal that it’s time to go, a little confidence boost that will help her take her first steps away from home. The protective part of Hannelia wants to put her arm around her but she feels that it’s important to let the girl walk independently.

* * * * *

On the return journey

Although uneventful, the return journey is a somewhat sombre affair. They may ultimately have been successful but it doesn’t exactly feel like a victory to Hannelia. Certainly it is not one without cost given the injuries suffered by both Elias and Constantine, but at least they all made it out alive.

If the walking was hard work, at least Hannelia can feel her strength building back up over a few days, even if life on the road has few comforts. She definitely felt it was better than the return boat journey as that mode of transport didn’t agree with her any better than it had on the way to Ravenmoor. With her stomach unsettled she spent a lot of time below, dividing her time between reading and translating the Kriegler book, speaking to Shel, and tending to Constantine.

It seemed to Hannelia that Shel alternated moods at the speed of one of her arrows, but she recognised that the girl was going through a huge amount: the trauma of being held captive and the battle with the blightspawn, the death of her mother, the fear of the unknown in what may await her in Saringallow. And yet balanced against all of this was her enthusiasm, her sometimes endless questions and her interest in any number of different topics. How she could swing so quickly from one to the other and back again Hannelia wasn’t sure, but she tried to show as much patience and empathy as she could, giving her space or attention as her mood demanded. When she mentioned to Majara how exhausting this could be the gnome had simply shrugged and told her that she was a teenager, having grown used to similar with Gellion.

Hannelia had hoped that working on the book may have engaged Constantine and in rare lucid moments it did, though these were few and far between, only temporarily pulling him out of his catatonic state. Still, over the course of the journey she was able to get through it all and finally have some answers to exactly what had been plaguing Ravenmoor, why, and for how long. With the final pieces in place she was able to explain things to the others and add a little more closure to the episode.

* * * * *

In the White Stag

”Sirio!” Hannelia says, surprised but pleased to be reunited with their errant companion. Understandably Constantine’s condition is his primary focus and Majara’s reply is direct and to the point. ”Yes,” she says, ”It’s been awful. He’s…” She breaks off, unexpectedly overcome with emotion at her friend’s condition. ”Sorry,” she adds, colour flushing her cheeks. She lifts her wine glass and takes a healthy swig to try and hide her concern and embarrassment.

Recovering, Hannelia changes the subject. ”I’m sorry, where are my manners,” she says, addressing Shel. ”Shel, this is Sirio Regilianus, friend and companion.” Turning to the priest, she then introduces the girl. ”And Sirio, this is Shel Lupescu. There’s a tale to tell but apparently my mind isn’t in the right place to do so right now so I’ll leave it to the others to fill you in.” She wipes her brow with a handkerchief before taking another sip of wine, more measured this time as she tries to regain her composure.

”Oh, and it’s been a real boon having you along, Majara. While I can officially only speak for myself, I’m sure we would all love to have you accompany us in future. You’re part of the team now.” She smiles at the gnome. ”And if you can come up with a more satisfactory name for our little group then be my guest.” Hannelia catches Sirio’s eye as she says this last part.

May need the odd Hannelia post as I’m getting started and she’s still with the group but I’ll aim to keep them to a minimum and have her in the background/leave things to everyone else. Hope that’s ok.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Combat map

Oh hello, I'm new here. =)


3 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Hannelia and the Lupescus, Chapter 3: In which Hannelia and Saul attempt to see eye to eye:

A while later, after Shel has gone back home, Hannelia finally decides to stop gazing up at the sky. It’s still too early for stars but she suspects that Ravenmoor might be blessed with an impressive view of the heavens. Regardless, it’s been a good backdrop while she mentally walks through the arguments and persuasions she plans to use in her nex conversation. She munches on a crust of bread to fend off a pang of hunger before returning to the manor. She helps herself to some more provender - the things that she’s comfortable with eating, at least - and reassures the others that she’s fine and the chat with Shel was positive. ”This one is going to be the hardest one yet though,” she says.

She assumes that the Lupescus will also have eaten by this point - after all, nobody wants to have serious discussions on an empty stomach - so when she’s good and ready she once more makes her way to the Lupescus’ trading post and raps on the door.

Shortly afterwards Saul Lupescu opens it, looking like he’s aged a decade over the course of the day. ”You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But so are flies.” He shoots Hannelia a look that leaves little to the imagination in terms of how he feels about the woman. ”You’re out of luck though, she’s gone to bed.”

Ignoring the fact that the man looked at her much as he would look at something that he had trodden in, Hannelia says, ”Actually I wanted to speak to you, Mr Lupescu.”

”Did you indeed? Well I suppose it’s better to hear you out before I kick you out.” Muttering to himself, his rage from earlier replaced with something resembling weary resignation, he adds, ”I’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.” He holds the door open in invitation, leading Hannelia through the shop, past a storeroom and a staircase and into a large sitting room. In one corner is a kitchen area dominated by a simple stove and sink. One very well-worn armchair sits off to one side and a large table - solid but having seen many summers - takes up a good proportion of the space. Saul Lupescu sits at one of the chairs around it and shoots her a look that suggests he’s none too pleased to be entertaining guests. As her host does not offer her a chair, Hannelia remains standing for a minute before seating herself on one of the other chairs after closing the door behind her.

As she does so, Hannelia’s keen ears pick up what sounded like some light scuffling beyond the door. She doesn’t turn her head but she would happily wager all of Elias’ tax collection that ‘gone to bed’ meant Shel had stormed off to her bedroom but that the girl is now outside the room and doing her best to surreptitiously listen in.

No offer of any refreshments is made and Saul jumps straight in. ”Well, what is it you’re wanting then?”

Trying to take the edge off the aggressive question, Hannelia replies, ”I wanted to talk about Shel. Check on how she is and what her plans might be going forward.”

”And why do you care?”

Hannelia holds out her palms in front of her. ”I like your daughter, Mr Lupescu. She’s kind, smart, she was helpful to me. You’ve raised a fine young woman,” she adds. ”And she’s been through a serious ordeal.”

Saul nods at the compliment. ”Well what plans would she be needing then? She got a good life here, she’s happy, find herself a man to marry.”

”And have you spoken to Shel about this?” Hannelia asks carefully, trying to avoid it coming across too critically. ”About what she might want?”

”Course that’s what she wants. I heared some fool-crazy big city ideas earlier but only because she got them from you.” He jabs an accusatory finger at Hannelia.

Acknowledging the probable truth of this, she replies cautiously, ”We talked, yes. But I think any ideas and dreams she might have were already there, even if she didn’t know how to access them. I helped her to articulate them. I don’t think I could convince her of something that she didn’t already have some idea of.” She pauses, taking Saul’s sceptical grunt as a cue to continue so she takes the plunge with the big question. ”I’d like to ask you if Shel would be able to accompany me back to Saringallow.”

Saul snorts out a laugh which Hannelia realises is rather similar to Shel’s own and clearly where she got it from, before stopping as he reads the woman’s face. ”You’re serious, ain’t you?”

Hannelia nods, carefully choosing her words. ”I am. I think it would be good for her - like I said, she’s been through a lot and a change of scenery could help. I believe she would like to come too.”

”What she needs is time with her family and without you folks coming in from outside and putting fancy ideas in her head. She don’t need anything she can’t get here. Everything was fine here afore you showed up.”

”Oh yes,” Hannelia shoots back, an edge of sarcasm in her voice, ”I can’t disagree that up until today’s great unmasking, things for the Lupescus seemed very good indeed.”

Rising to her bait, Saul growls, ”Are you threatening me?”

”No,” Hannelia begins in a clear, hard tone. ”But I’m going to tell you what I think. I think that what happened in Ravenmoor under Mayor Kriegler’s tenure was a horrible shock to everyone. His passing, along with the tragic death of all the villagers under his spell was unfortunate, Mrs Lupescu included. I think it would be in everyone’s best interests for things to remain that way, the old power structure broken and the past done and dusted with. Nobody would want to see this cult of the Dream Tender resurface. And nobody wants to see the past raked over - let sleeping goblins lie. Careless whispering and the casting of aspersions could have severe consequences for an individual’s reputation with their… neighbours.” She fixes him with a steely glare honed through years of challenging negotiations. ”I trust I’m making myself clear?”

After a few seconds Saul nods, defeated.

Perhaps he realises there’s truth in her words, perhaps he accepts that Hannelia has information that could be very damaging to him, perhaps it’s a combination of the two. In truth though, Hannelia is only really concerned with the outcome. ”Good.” She looks towards Saul and says more gently, ”I seem to recall your wife telling me that I didn’t understand what it was like to live in such conditions. Well, now’s the time for a fresh start.”

More thoughtful than he’s been to this point, Saul Lupescu says, ”You got a lot of clever words, girl. Reckon you’d make a good mayor.”

Slightly taken aback and wondering how serious he is being, Hannelia replies cautiously. ”I’m flattered. But I think what Ravenmoor needs at the moment is someone who understands it to help it recover.”

”Aye,” he agrees, ”probably you’re right. But we’re getting away from the point though,” Saul remarks, ”and the point is, she ain’t going nowhere. We’re her parents-” He stops, a pained expression on his face. ”I’m her father and I know what’s best for her.” he concludes.

”Doesn’t what Shel thinks deserve some consideration?” Hannelia asks.

Saul hesitates a couple of beats before replying. ”Do you have children, Miss…? he asks.

”Venator,” Hannelia supplies. ”And no, I don’t.”

”Well then,” retorts Saul, looking satisfied, as if that settles the argument.

Hannelia holds out her hands. ”I can’t argue with that. I don’t have that experience. But it’s not so many years ago since I was Shel’s age and I can remember what it was like.”

”What are you trying to say?” Saul responds, nettled. ”My Shel’s a good girl.”

Smiling slightly, Hannelia responds, ”Believe it or not, I was a good girl too. I was well-behaved, loved my Dad. Didn’t stop me arguing and sneaking out and doing damn stupid things to show how grown up I was.” The memory of a teenage girl breaking into Zuke’s house and helping herself to his spirits collection floats into her mind.

”She’s still–” begins Saul heatedly before stopping abruptly, his cheeks ruddy. Hannelia suspects that the sentence would have ended ‘my little girl’ but that the man stopped due to his embarrassment at saying as much in front of her.

To her surprise, Saul then responds by laughing with genuine humour. ”You got me there, I’ll give you that one.” He looks off somewhat mistily into the distance. ”Can’t believe I’d almost forgotten the first time Anya’s Da caught us sneaking about together.” He looks back to Hannelia. ”Battered me bloody, he did,” he adds for the woman’s benefit, rubbing the ghost of a bruise. Saul doesn’t look as if it’s a memory he recalls particularly fondly, but it’s equally plain on his face that he is missing his wife. ”She’s going to be eighteen next name day. Don’t rightly know how that happened,” he says, mostly to himself. ”Supposing she did go with you - and I’m not saying that she is -” he clarifies quickly after a speculative start, ”what would she even do?”

”There’s a lot of things she could do,” Hanelia hedges, ”she’s a bright girl and there’s plenty of opportunities. And I’ll look out for her, make sure she’s got enough food and somewhere to stay.”

”And if she weren’t able to work or something happened?” Saul asks.

”Then I’ll look after her and pay for her. I have the means so I’m quite capable of supporting her. And this isn’t something I’ve promised on a whim.” This last bit is not entirely true - she has only known Shel for twenty-four hours, after all, but as is her way, Hannelia has given the matter a good amount of thought in that time.

Saul voices what appears to be a nagging thought. ”What if I said no? Even if Shel wanted to go.”

Hannelia Inhales deeply. ”Well it’s not what I’d hope for,” she starts. ”But I’m not going to kidnap her, if that’s what you mean. Nor would I want to let her come if she just ran away without your say so. Ultimately it is your decision.”

The man looks at her, seeming to approve of this answer but not entirely convinced either.

”I don’t want to cause any problems between you and Shel,” Hannelia says. ”Family’s important.”

”We agree on that,” he says.

Satisfied that she has moved the conversation into a better place, Hannelia decides to bring it towards a close. ”I think I’m going to go now. Talk to Shel again, let her tell you how she feels, what she’s thinking. I do think she wants to come but it would be a big change for her and I don’t know if she truly appreciates that.” She rises from her chair. ”And it might not be forever,” she adds kindly. ”It might feel like the other side of the world but it’s not so far to visit and to send letters.”

Saul nods, fixing Hannelia with an inscrutable look. ”I hope you don’t mind me saying, Miss Venator but I’m still not exactly sure I like you. I do reckon I understand you a bit better now though.”

Refraining from the obvious reply of ‘The feeling’s mutual’, Hannelia decides the wisest thing is to simply ignore the comment. ”We’re leaving tomorrow, if not sooner. Talk to her,” she repeats. ”Spend some time as a family. Give Mrs Lupescu a proper send off - I think that would be good for both of you.”

Saul nods in agreement, finding that hard to argue with.

”You can find me if you need me but I won’t intrude on your time any more.” Tucking her chair in deliberately loudly, so as to make it clear to any eavesdroppers that the conversation was done, Hannelia gives it a few seconds before announcing, ”I’ll see myself out.”

Another conversation ticked off her mental list, Hannelia quickly and efficiently makes her way back to rejoin the others. She doesn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it and replaying it in head right now, there’s yet more to do, but her first impression is that the conversation could certainly have gone a lot worse.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Hannelia and the Lupescus, Chapter 2: In which Hannelia and Shel have a heart to heart:

As Shel storms out, Hannelia starts walking at a fair pace to keep up with her. It was the outcome that she had hoped for, though she regrets that she’s caused an argument between father and daughter. Well, I don’t suppose it was ever going to be an easy conversation. She says nothing for the moment, unsure where Shel is leading them, if the girl even really has a destination in mind. She takes them over a bridge to a place Hannelia hasn’t been, past what she sees is a mill and as her furious footsteps slow, they come to a stop in a quiet field.

”I’m sorry Miss Hannelia,” Shel says, breaking the silence. As Hannelia decides not to respond immediately, the girl continues. ”Sometimes they seem to think I’m a child when I’m practically a woman grown and it makes me real mad.” She clenches her fists, letting the anger and frustration flow out of her.

Trying to work out what would be tactful to say, Hannelia begins gently, ”Just Hannelia is fine.” She exhales, before continuing, ”I’m sure it does. I also think that your parents have just been trying to protect you.”

”Protect me?” Shel looks incredulous. ”Bit late for that!” She laughs humourlessly. ”Caught and tied up! And I saw it all! That horrible bug thing…” She shudders uncontrollably. ”And… and Momma.”

”I know,” Hannelia agrees emolliently. ”It was horrible and you’ve been through a great deal today. Which is why I wanted to see how you were.” She fixes the girl with a careful eye, looking her up and down. In spite of a few cuts and bruises, and, less tangibly, something of a cloud hanging over her, the girl’s youthful beauty still shines through.

Looking at the scrapes she’s picked up, the rips in her dress, Shel replies, ”Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve had worse.” Perhaps she thinks that’s what Hannelia wants to hear but the woman simply raises an eyebrow quizzically at her. After a moment’s silence this prompts her into a more honest response. ”Every time I close my eyes I can see it, Miss Hannelia. I like coming out here at night when it’s quiet but right now I feel like I can still hear that buzzing.” Seeming to take her by surprise, tears start flowing down the girl’s cheeks. Hannelia takes a cautious step towards Shel, who sees this as an invitation and throws herself into the woman’s arms, fully sobbing now.

”I’m sorry,” Shel gulps after a minute.

” Nothing to be sorry for,” Hannelia reassures her. ”I’d be a lot more concerned if you did think everything was fine. Today is the kind of day that’s just about as bad as it can get.” She pauses a second before continuing, trying to find a good way to convey what she wants to say. ”You remember how I said that what happens in stories and what actually happens aren’t necessarily the same thing? This is the kind of thing I meant.”

”How do you stand it?” Shel asks. ”Doesn’t it get to you?”

”Of course it does,” Hannelia replies quietly. ”It’s a good check on your sanity and your health. If it gets to the point where I’ve become completely desensitised to it then maybe that’s time to stop.” She thinks for a minute before continuing - how does she cope with the adventuring life? It’s not something that she’s given a huge amount of thought to previously. ”I suppose it helps having friends and companions who have gone through the same things with you. That shared experience and being able to talk about it helps lessen the load.” She looks directly at the girl. ”It doesn’t mean the bad things aren’t still bad,” she adds softly.

Shel nods. ”That makes sense. That’s why I wanted to speak to you - to someone who understands.”

”And I suppose that I think the importance of what we’re doing - of doing the right thing - outweighs the potential risks and harms,” she concludes, feeling uncomfortably self-righteous with that last comment, though she supposes that it is to a reasonable degree why she does it. ”Plus this isn’t really my full-time job. I’m not doing this every day.”

Shel disengages herself, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dress. Hannelia produces a neatly folded handkerchief from a pocket and passes it to her. Shel laughs, ”I think it’s a bit late for that,” but she blows her nose anyway. ”Really?” she asks. ”What do you do?”

”Well I mostly pass information on between different people. Finding out what they want to know that will help them with trade, with politics and history and so on.”

”And people pay money for that?” Shel asks, surprised.

Hannelia processes the thought - such a secluded keep-itself-to-itself community as Ravenmoor would likely have no use for something like that. ”They do,” she smiles. ”Though what I like best is the research element, normally in the town archives. It can be long work but it usually throws up something interesting.” She fixes the girl with a look. ”And what about you, Shel? What do you want to do?”

”Well I always thought I’d help Poppa and Mo-,” Shel comes to a halt, the newness of today’s events and the rawness of the wounds probably haven’t truly registered yet. ”Help in the shop,” she finishes haltingly. ”And,” she blushes, ”well, I’d always assumed I’ll get married so maybe I’d do something different after that.”

”A good plan. But is that what you want to do?” Hannelia asks gently.

Shel thinks for a minute before answering. ”Well I don’t rightly know, Miss Hannelia. I don’t know that I’ve ever really thought about it till, well, when I asked earlier if I could, you know… I’m sorry, don’t know what I was thinking,” she mumbles, before adding somewhat defiantly. ”What else could I even do?”

”I think you could probably do whatever you wanted to. You’ve got a lot of things going for you, Shel. And you don’t have to have an answer to everything right now. Most people don’t.” Hannelia pauses, tugging lightly at her ponytail before offering the proposal that she’s been turning over in her mind for a while. ”You could go anywhere. And yes, if you wanted, you could come back with me.”

Shel snorts out a laugh, ”Yeah, I don’t think Poppa’s going to agree to that. Letting me go to… sorry, I don’t even know where you’re from.”

”I live in a town called Saringallow. It’s a fairly small place compared to some, but a lot bigger than Ravenmoor.”

”Saringallow,” Shel repeats, ”yeah I think I heared of that. But what would I do?”

Hannelia smiles. ”Well you could run a shop and get married - if you wanted to. I guess it’s about having options. You didn’t know that my work was a job; there might be a lot more that you’ve never thought about. But maybe you’ll find something that you really want to do.”

”Yeah, maybe,” Shel replies slightly distractedly, her mind clearly expanded with new possibilities. She seems lost in thought. ”But it still ain’t going to happen.”

Hannelia nods slightly, ”I think first you need to think about whether it really is something you might like to do. It’s a big decision and would be a lot of change. But yes, you probably will need to speak to your dad.”

”They never listen to me,” Shel replies automatically, the classic line of adolescents everywhere, before changing tack slightly, asking, ”Did you argue with your parents?”

”My dad,” Hannelia gently corrects her, holding a hand up to cut off an unnecessary apology - there’s no reason the girl would know about her family situation. Shel mouths one anyway, her face seeming to register that this is now a bond the two women share. ”And yes, I did. I think that’s the way of things when you’re growing up and trying to work out who you are. But looking back I also think that my dad did just want to look after me and have my best interests at heart.” She keeps the focus on herself, not sure that she’s feeling charitable enough to extend the same feelings to the Lupescus. ”I guess it’s not an easy thing for anyone.”

”Would you speak to him for me, Miss Hannelia?”

Hannelia thinks before replying, working out a diplomatic reply. ”I don’t know how much that will help, but yes, if you’d like me to, I will. But you’ll need to speak to him too. And like I said, you need to think carefully about whether you really want to do this.”

”I’m not sure but I think I do. Thinking about it feels exciting but also a bit scary. Does that make sense?” she asks.

”It absolutely does,” Hannelia smiles.

Impulsively Shel throws her arms around Hannelia. ”Thank you,” she says with heartfelt feeling. Hannelia returns the embrace. She wonders if she’s doing the right thing. She genuinely likes Shel and can see a lot of potential in her, that she could carve out a good life for herself. But it would be a lot of change coming from such an insular community, as well as being away from her remaining family at such an emotional time. Equally, she can see that Shel might want to put some distance between herself and home while she comes to terms with her grief. Hannelia also worries about getting the girl’s hopes up as she doesn’t doubt it will be a difficult sell to her father. But, for Shel’s sake, she resolves to do the best she can.


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Spoilering for length. Thank you to Kubular for giving me the opportunity to write these posts.

Hannelia and the Lupescus, Chapter 1: In which Hannelia pays a call to the general store:

With at least some of the loose ends if not exactly tidied up then at least starting to be collected together, Hannelia turns her attention to a more personal matter. It’s late afternoon and as she suspected, not a soul seems to be out and about. She purposefully makes her short journey to the heart of the village and raps on the door of the general store.

”We’re closed,” shouts a voice from inside.

”I’m here to check in on Shel,” Hannelia calls back.

The reply comes as the sound of footsteps approaching the door and then it opens, Saul Lupescu’s head poking her head through the door. ”You’ve got some nerve,” he says angrily, raw grief evident in his voice. ”Ain’t you done enough? Shel’s had a horrible time today and she just needs leaving alone.” He looks, understandably, as if the job sorting the dead has taken its toll.

Anticipating such a reaction, Hannelia tries to take the sting out of the conversation. ”I know she has. I’m sorry for your loss and that Shel had to go through such an ordeal - which is why I wanted to see how she was.”

”And why do you care?” Saul hisses back. ”You come round here, sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted. And after you’ve broken everything it’s us normal folks who have to clear up the mess.” Clearly he’s had a rethink about his earlier words.

Nodding, Hannelia waits before once more saying, ”I know. That’s probably not unfair. And that’s why I’m here. To try and help set things right.”

”Well ain’t you just the shining angel?” sneers Saul. ”But like I said, it’s not wanted. What Shel needs now is time with her family - her remaining family,” he adds pointedly, ”and–” He cuts off abruptly and Hannelia can just hear the quiet hum of words as someone is now speaking to Saul from inside, though she can’t make them out. Without a word to Hannelia, he disappears fully back inside and closes the door so it’s open only a crack.

She can hear soft footsteps approach and can now make out, quietly but clearly, Shel’s voice saying, ”Please Poppa, I wanna to speak to her.”

Saul shoots back, ”No you don’t!”

”But Poppa!” comes the plaintive reply that is quickly cut off.

”But nothing, Shel. You don’t understand what’s been going on here and you don’t know what’s good for you.”

Shel’s voice rises in heat to match her father’s. ”And I suppose you do?”

”Yes! Too bloody right, my girl. We’ve only trying to do what’s best.”

”What’s best for you, maybe,” Shel retorts, her emotions high. ”What about what’s best for me?”

From the other side of the door the tension is palpable and Hannelia can almost feel the heat as she assumes the two Lupescus are glaring at each other. It’s probably only a few seconds but it feels a lot longer before - somewhat to her surprise - Saul Lupescu cracks. ”Fine! Make your own mistakes. Now get out of my sight!” He yanks the door back fully open, adding, ”Both of you!” as she realises that Hannelia has clearly heard the whole exchange.


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Majara's comments feel doom-laden but Hannelia can't deny that there's a truth to them and a potential worst-case scenario. The story of the Saringallow it would appear cannot escape them here, though there are also obvious differences between the group's role and the diabolic activities of the Sarini family. She can already pre-empt the gnome's reply though, hearing her in her head saying, "Yes but trying telling that to the baying mob."

Emma's points too are fair, but Hannelia is not ready to be so defeatist yet. "Not all second hand," she says. "Plenty of people will have seen masked figures and a giant spider attack us in the village square. And there will be a few who saw the mayor, the blightspawn and everything else. It might take a while for people to accept the evidence of their own eyes but there's the charred remains of a giant bug, the faceless stalker and the poor misshapen mongrelmen - plenty of evidence of stranger creatures among them."

She's on a bit of a roll now, trying to put across the more hopeful view. "And while undoubtedly many villagers will have lived in ignorance, I am sure some lived in fear. If Elias was able to pick up on things in a short period of time, I just don't believe that others wouldn't have noticed certain things were amiss. But if your choice is say nothing and keep your head down or find yourself mysteriously vanish the month after next it's not much of a choice." Hannelia looks over at her silent friend to reinforce her point. "It's not like Constantine came out of everything he went through growing up as a committed member of the Golden Erinyes,"

She pauses as another thought strikes her. More tentatively she continues, "I'm now wondering if I was maybe a bit unfair to Anya Lupescu. If your choice is join the cult or become its next sacrifice then again, there's probably only one easy answer. We may never know how many chose a different one," she adds quietly.

"Perhaps I'm being too naive here. I don't doubt that there were plenty of cult members with hearts just as black as the Krieglers. But pragmatically it's much easier to pin all the blame on them - after all, they're not able to defend themselves any more." Hannelia lips quirk up in a slight smile. "That helps us and it helps the villlagers have someone to focus their blame towards without having to look too closely at other more difficult questions. Politically it's easier for everyone if one or two people can take the fall for everyone." She looks around at the others. "We can even present them with the chest of coin - 'Look, they were robbing the hard-working folk of Ravenmoor blind' - which might help persuade them of our intentions. I tend to find that money has a positive effect there." She smiles slightly again.

"So I think we have some decent arguments at our disposal, and I think at least some in the audience who will be more receptive to it, even if not everyone will want to hear it." Hannelia balls her hands into fists. "And I need to try," she adds determinedly. Slightly surprised by her reaction, the realisation is dawning on her that this is important to her. It might be beyond her abilities to fix everything but she wants to help and do what she can.

She looks back to Majara and Emma. "I agree there's no great choice on where we spend the night. I think I would prefer to stay, even if it means additional precautions. A roof and a bed - one of the guest ones -," she clarifies, "would be of benefit to all of us, even if we might not be getting much sleep wherever we end up. I'm also willing to revise my opinion depending on how it goes speaking to the villagers."

Hannelia shifts uncomfortably, pulling at her hair and shaking her head as if to get rid of an ache. "It's probably selfish but I also want the time to talk to Shel properly. Maybe her father too. See if I can," somehow she mentally adds, "get to an agreement. Pragmatically again, it's also not going to do us any favours in terms of looks or of preventing pursuit if we appear to be running off with one of the village's daughters."

She is running on empty but Hannelia still feels she has a lot to do. She slumps back against the nearest wall, the animation from her speech fading. "Gods, this is all such a mess," she says quietly.


2 people marked this as a favorite.

I'm pleased to say that I have successfully added +1 to my children stat. All went as smoothly as it could, we're all doing well and getting used to things.

Thanks for handling everything and moving it along, all looks great to me.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Yes, I think could work well from both a narrative and IRL perspective. Thanks for the thought and consideration. I'll add that I've got no real idea what sort of time limit to put on it so as long as you're happy to play it by ear a bit that's fine with me. I know there will be constant changes but I've done it before so I know I'll get back into a pattern of things.

I'm assuming the integration with the newcomers will happen fairly soon?


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Thuàng Nê Luu Sânh wrote:
It also doesn't help from a personal circumstances perspective - and I would have been raising this imminently anyway - that I have a new baby due in just over a month so my bandwidth is going to be more limited for a while.

A gentle reminder that the new bambino is coming on Friday unless it makes an appearance sooner! I'll do my best to keep pace with things but it'll probably be an adjustment to a new rhythm. Please bot me as necessary to move things along if I'm holding things up.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Somewhat taken aback by the Inquisitor's apparent self-destruction, if not entirely trusting that it is the end of the man given the veritable maze of illusions she had seen him create, Luu Sânh throws an arm across her face to avoid the flare of the bomb.

Looking up, she replies "My pleasure," replies as Zephyr throws her the orb, snapping up her empty hand and easily catching it. "And what do you do?" she asks it quietly.

Knowledge planes: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

She doesn't have much time to examine it in any great detail, however, as a swarm of mephits appears, each appearing something like a twisted animated candle. Targeting as many as she can, Luu Sânh walks through a spell before flinging an open palm in their direction, coating them in sticky strands of webbing.

Cast web at the large central group, aiming to catch as many of them as possible.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

”Mead and more,” Aamina replies. ”The selection is generally good. You’d probably be welcome to perform but unless the muse has struck or you’re harbouring bardic pretensions, it might just be easier if I furnish you - and anyone else who desires one - with a beverage.”

The food is hearty and warming, just what was needed after the grim weather. When they have finished eating, Lisyil nudges Ari gently, who shoots her a look, before muttering, ”Ok, ok.” Although she hadn’t really wanted to talk about it, the half-elf had cornered Ari when they were making the transformation into Aamina. First she listened to her vent, before putting across a more balanced opinion looking at both sides. Although she too had been surprised by Pheliks’ appearance, growing up in the Wealdath, Lisyil had a very elven perspective and relationship with animals. She is naturally comfortable around them in a way most humans don’t integrate them into their lives, though elves tend not to keep them as pets in the same way she has since learned humans often do. So she can understand where Ari was coming from, but can also understand - and puts forth why - Sasha was upset by her words. Ari finds that she does feel better for talking it through and agrees with Lisyil what would be appropriate to say to explain herself and make amends.

The half-elf squeezes her friend’s hand, knowing that the apology isn’t something that comes easy to her. Ari initially almost flinches away from the unexpected contact, but she is glad of it and squeezes back lightly to let Lisyil know.

Glancing around to avoid being overheard, she lowers her voice and slips back into her natural tone. Looking at Sasha, Ari inhales before beginning, ”I think I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for my words towards Pheliks and by extension you. I understand that he’s a trusted companion and I’m glad to fight alongside a powerful ally.” She looks at Lisyil, who nods.

”But, please also consider it from someone else’s perspective. While it was obvious to you that Pheliks was no danger, you’re the only one who had that knowledge. In the heat of battle, it’s hard to know whether he was a threat in the same way as the bear and that’s not the ideal time to find out. I know now that he’s well-trained and a loyal companion, but at the time there’s no way I could have known that - we didn’t even know of his existence.”

Her left hand is busy under the table, absent-mindedly turning a coin over and over between her fingers. The comfort of the familiar movement helps to keep Ari on track. ”So I was taken by surprise and for that I’m sorry. You’re entitled to secrets -” she gives a small laugh, ”as a follower of the Lady of Mists it would be hypocritical of me to complain about that. I’m certainly not asking for anyone to divulge their life story. I guess it’s the context more than anything else.” Ari comes to a stop, happy enough that she’s conveyed what she wanted to. ”So for my part I’m sorry and as far as I’m concerned it’s done. I’m glad to have you and Pheliks travelling with us.”

Hope it's ok to have borrowed Lisyil slightly. I'm hoping rdknight might be through the worst of their work and be able to pick things up soon.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Zephyr's response, dripping in sarcasm, catches Luu Sânh off guard. This seems slightly out of character, though she realises that in the short - but intense - time they have been travelling together, she hasn't really seen the sylph truly roused to fury. Whether it's the after-effects of the wall or the literal and metaphorical drop in temperature, there is a notable chill in the air that has heightened her senses. She has no clever words to match Zephyr's but in a flash she draws her scimitar to show that she trusts their judgement and will fight to defend the exhausted body of Albert.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1
Shaggar wrote:

"I'm not certain our contact would know. If they did, the mystery of the Glade would be solved. We must be careful in revealing this information. Friendly Arm may not be as friendly as its name. And the statue... from where and whom was it taken? I worry that it was stolen from the church in Silvermoon Glade."

The gnoll growls, having too many questions and not enough answers.

"I'm assuming we won't be broadcasting to the whole place," Ari replies. "You get all sorts at the Friendly Arm - it's a fortified waystop where they're few and far between so most folks will stop there. But for what it's worth, it generally lives up to the name from my experience." She fiddles with the clasp of her cloak. "The owners don't like trouble in the place so all weapons are peace-bonded. And I was treated fairly too, so." Ari throws her palms wide as she finishes.

Sasha Shardlight wrote:
"If you will continue to have me, I'd like to help," she offers as they walk back. "Pheliks too, of course. We weren't there when you were given this task, but I worship She Who Guides too. I've never been to either Friendly Arm or this village, but will continue to help as best I can."

"About that," Ari says. Most of her initial anger from the appearance of Pheliks during the fight has dissipated, but she's still irked enough to mention it. "Anything else we should know about?" She gestures sweepingly towards the tiger as she speaks.

Ari is still a bit rattled from the revelation of the young behir and the general reaction of curiosity towards what she sees simply as a vicious predator. She's aware that she's not being entirely fair to Sasha - it's not her behir and she wasn't even there - but the casual way the others seem at ease around large clawed and fanged predators has left her feeling ill at ease.

"Don't get me wrong, everyone's entitled to their own secrets under the Mistshadow. I'd just prefer to know about those that might eat my face before I stumble across them in the woods." Ari can feel her temperature rising and her words have more than a bit of both heat and bite. "Sure, he knows you but would he know whether anyone else was friend or foe? And say I'd stumbled across him sleeping and saw the opportunity to take out a dangerous predator - my first thought would not have been 'Is this someone's pet?'"

She looks directly into the other woman's mismatched eyes and stops, realising that she's said her piece. "It's done and no harm done. We'd be happy to have you along," she says by way of an apology - of sorts. "But by Tiamat's scales, please tell me now if one of you is secretly harbouring a bloody dragon." With that the tiefling pulls her hood down over her head and stalks quickly off down the trail back to the caravan.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

With the bear snapping at Shaggar and the appearance of Sasha's big cat, Ari decides that now is a better time to get up close and personal - comparatively, she doesn't look like the biggest threat. Leaving her bow behind, she nimbly steps around the creature to join the tiger. Flicking her wrist to drop another dagger into her hand, she cockily spins it in her hand and stepping forward at just the right time to bury the blade up to the hilt in its rear flank.

Attack, flanking: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 4 + 2 = 26
Damage (sneak attack): 1d4 + 1d8 ⇒ (4) + (7) = 11
Confirm crit?: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 2 = 25
Crit damage: 1d4 ⇒ 4

Sorry Kiley, I think I stole your dice!

Move, swift action to draw dagger from spring-loaded wrist sheath, stab.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Once the rites are over, any remaining energy and adrenaline dissipates, leaving behind only an empty silence where a number of the young elens had been. With the vultures freed and the reanimated dead defeated, it was technically a victory for the group, but it didn't feel like it. Luu Sânh has been here before - all soldiers have - but she's used to it rather than numbed to it. Looking around at the others, she's not so convinced that they have. Albert in particular looks pretty crushed - unsurprising given the students in his care.

There's no real wind but the air is chill and their shelter is the best they can do in the circumstances. "Get some rest," she says. "I know it's hard but there will be no shortage of time for grief and reflection. We still have work to do and doing what we can is the best way to honour their memories."

She pulls out a bottle and pours a few drops onto the ground, an offering to help the departed souls on their journey, before passing it around. After taking a hefty slug herself, Luu Sânh beds down to get some sleep before taking the middle watch.

When she is tagged in, it is bitterly cold, though the punch of her alcohol takes the edge off. It's black as pitch but mercifully quiet and the candles pass uneventfully. She is able to grab a bit more sleep afterwards before dawn rolls around once more.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

Not entirely sure where the apology has come from, Ari raises an eyebrow. "Relax, you're fine," she whispers, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "You haven't done anything to me. And you wouldn't be friends with Shaggar if you weren't able to look beyond appearances."


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

Ari narrows her eyes at Sasha as she introduces herself. Another Selûnite? Is this providence, fate or something more sinister? She's happy to see how things play out and reserve judgement for the moment but the way the hairs on her arm are standing on end means she is alert to something happening. Even if she can't immediately identify it, she's learned to trust her senses.

Following a couple of steps behind Shaggar and Kiley, the tiefling introduces herself. "Well met, Sasha Shardlight," she says. "I'm Ari." Deciding to probe a bit she asks, "So what brings you here? It seems a remarkable coincidence to meet such a devout worshipper of the Moonmaiden in such a small place."

While she waits for Sasha's reply, she turns to the gnoll. Dropping her voice into something more husky than her usual timbre, she lightly quips, "I don't know, Shaggar - with you outnumbered several to one I think the guard would just assume that you were taken by all of our many charms."

Sense motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

It does not escape Ari's notice that there's a slight stutter in Kiley's words and she looks as though something about Sasha's words, or perhaps her appearance, has unsettled the woman. Perhaps she too has found something about either the situation or the woman to be strange, so Ari decides to pick it up with her privately when she gets a moment.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

As the creatures close in on the group, coming from all directions now, Luu Sânh can only watch in horror as Albert is felled and many others are dropped with what seems to be minimal effort.

She fights back in her own personal battle as the vultures - or whatever is controlling them - focuses laser-like on her, their eyes boring into her own. Luu Sânh is a fighter though, trained and versed with spell as well as blade and she simply bats away the mental incursion.

As Zephyr explains that they believe the gasping dead have stolen the birds' movement, she has an idea. She may not have any spells to escape from such bonds, but she wonders if enhancing the vultures' own ability, outside of the normal constraints of time, will allow them to act. With such an action they would then be able to engage the creatures and reclaim what is theirs.

She quickly explains her plan, then repeats it for the vultures to understand. Winding a springy strand of kelp through her fingers, Luu Sânh chants through the words to one of the most powerful magicks at her disposal.

Cast haste, centred on the vultures. The logic is that the additional action exists outside of those that have already been stolen, allowing them to move and touch the gaspers.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Thanks for the heads up and hope everyone across the Atlantic has a great Thanksgiving. I would have confidence that he will be back but obviously understand your position.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

Sense motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Ari watches the impromptu hug between the two women, happiness playing out on each of their faces. It might be unavoidable on the cramped wagon with everyone wedged in together pretty tightly but ordinarily she would not appreciate an invasion of her personal space like that; in the wrong circumstances would instinctively summon a knife into her hand. There doesn't seem to be a polite way to convey to them both 'Please don't do that to me' though.

She looks over to Lisyil, who has remained as quiet as she herself has through most of the storytelling, wondering what is going through the half-elf's mind. For all that she was generally sociable, one of the things that the two women had bonded over during their time together had been a need for personal space and quiet time, in Lisyil's case speaking with her mirror, in Ari's own some time to breathe and think.

With the tale seemingly at an end, she asks Helga, "On a more practical note, I don't think we're going to make it to the Friendly Arm tonight? With the days getting short and the nights being colder, do you have a destination in mind for a stop?"


1 person marked this as a favorite.

And that is the sort of problem we could live without, Luu Sânh thinks. However, all she says is "Done," in response to Albert's suggestion, happy to let him pull rank here. As opiniated as she can be, she has no problem with following orders from one more knowledgeable than herself. She beckons to Drook to follow as she takes up a position beneath Zephyr.

"Are you coming down?" she asks, "or do we just have to crane our necks up at you?"


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

Ari keeps her own counsel but as far as she's concerned 'the right thing to do' is entirely a matter of perspective. Kiley's comment strikes her as more than a little naïve. She's seen plenty of people act in less savoury ways because that was deemed 'correct' in that group or situation. Indeed, she's acted in ways that with some hindsight and learning she later regretted, but were unquestionably considered the right thing at the time.

And, she muses, which god does not teach their followers that they are following the correct path in pursuit of enlightenment, power, truth? Certainly Ari had been at least a few steps down the trail of Cyric because that was all she had known; now she would like to think she is several steps further along Leira's path. She doesn't feel that she has the same conviction that Marith or Kiley have in their patron deities, though she concedes wryly that more than a touch of uncertainty comes with the territory of worshipping the goddess of illusions and secrets.

She says nothing, however, but keeps listening to see how the conversation plays out.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Congratulations! Amazing news, hope it all goes well and enjoy the day!


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female tiefling unchained rogue [knife master] 1 | AL: CN | HP: 10/10 | AC 16, T 14, FF 12 | F +1, R +6, W +0 | Init: +4 | Per: +4 (darkvision 60 ft.) | Resistances: cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 | Detect thoughts 1/1, Disguise self 1/1

Ari has neither musical talent herself nor a much of a critical ear for it, though she enjoys it and appreciates the skill of those who do. "You have a fine voice," she says. She follows the story of Marith's song, though if she's honest it doesn't have the same spirit-lifting effect that the drow claims for herself, not that she vocalises that thought. Ari wants to ask why it particularly affects her but can't quite formulate a question that doesn't sound particularly invasive to someone she's only just met. Instead she asks, "Is this a true story or more of a metaphor for what Eilistraee stands for?"


2 people marked this as a favorite.
The Declarative wrote:
Fredrik, the serious-faced young priest who was goodpriest Edmund's primary acolyte, shakes his head. With slight distaste, he says, [b]"My mentor cautioned against such things. I'll share in the first watch."

The undan shrugs, unbothered by both the refusal and the judgement that accompanied it. Next time I won't ask then. Luu Sânh drinks again, quite happy to self-medicate and confident that the quantity she is imbibing will not impair her faculties.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Luu Sânh breathes a sigh of relief as both her magic and Albert's healing suggest that the invasion of Drook's person has been curtailed. She can find no hint of residual magic but the work has understandably taken its toll on the boy.

As he falls into a deep slumber, Luu Sânh prepares to follow suit, having volunteered for dawn watch. Before settling in for as much sleep as she is able to muster in the circumstances, she draws out a bottle and unstoppers it, taking a long swig. She offers it around to the others, "Anyone for a little sleeping aid?"

* * * * *

Having awoken to darkness and - finally - something resembling quiet - Luu Sânh watches the dull light of morning slowly invade and replace the cover of night. Sat vigilantly, wrapped in a thick blanket, the others begin to stir and awaken. She echoes the prayer of thanks, "Water may wind, but the course remains true."


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

The aranea suggests to Majara that she take a nap and the magic interwoven in the command is such that the gnome slumps to the floor. Unfortunately Hannelia is unable to ascertain exactly what kind of spell has been worked.

Fort vs poison: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Her body is, however, able to control the flow of poison in her body and start to expel it. She's still weakened however, but she takes a step forward and with all of her remaining strength, Hannelia hurls a tanglefoot bag at the aranea with a grunt. Let's see how you like it, she thinks as the thick, resinous substances burst out all over the creature's numerous legs.

Attack aranea vs touch : 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 8 - 2 = 24

"Roger!" she calls behind her, "If Desna is smiling down upon this village at all then I've got an immobile target for you. I'll do my best to keep you on your feet." She glances over at the dozing gnome and with more than a touch of concern in her voice adds, "Mr Kyle, if you're able to see if Majara is responsive that would be appreciated."

Activate luck, 5 ft step, throw tanglefoot bag at aranea.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
The Declarative wrote:
Busy week? I don't think I can update until I get posts.

That pretty much covers it, yes! Thanks for your patience.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

"Hello Drook," replies Luu Sânh to the child's shy introduction, crouching down so as to be more of a height. "I'm sorry. May Mother River guide him on his journey, be it to shore or to the Eternal Ocean."

Standing back up, she listens to Albert's explanation of what happened to Drook, letting him finish without interruption. "I see," she says, feeling that at least here she does have some understanding of the situation. Even if the exact causes are uncertain, this a problem with tangible effects and parameters and she can work with that.

There is still a nagging at the back of her mind that perhaps Albert is not being straight with her, or that this may be some kind of test. Luu Sânh doesn't think it's likely; the sylph's behaviour and conduct hasn't suggested this to her so far. And she certainly hope it is not - to use a child in such a way would be abhorrent - but she has also experienced some terrible things in the battle against Dark, not to mention the brief encounters with the madness of moon, and would prefer to be more certain of his intentions.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

"It is good that he is healthy," she agrees. "And much of magic derives from the element of water, including ice," she continues, still hedging and delaying to size up the situation. "What other remedies have you tried?" she asks.


2 people marked this as a favorite.

As they move on, Luu Sânh feels swept up as if by a current. The immediate problem had proved surmountable - albeit with some serious attrition - but she's still unsure about the situation, the destination and the strangers. On the positive side of the ledger were the fact that Albert and Zephyr clearly had the intelligence to overcome obstacles and powerful abilities; valuable resources in what is still very clearly a dangerous situation. And it's not like Chezarina is a bosom companion of many years but an alliance of practicalities.

On the flip side, a much larger group is more likely to attract unwanted attention and she prefers to take people's measure of a period of time, even if the early signs were promising. And without a focused end goal, she feels somewhat at their mercy, even if going with the flow is the undine way. Then again, Luu Sânh has ever been one to swim against the tide, with consequences both good and ill.

If anything, it is the presence of minors that means she knows deep down that until this stream winds its course she could not in good conscience abandon them. It might be black and white thinking but to do otherwise would simply be unconscionable. Until they are safe she will be there to help however she can. No elen left behind. This stirs up unpleasant memories that have no place in her current situation so she shuts them down. A reckoning with it can wait. After all, she has refused to engage with it and her position on the betrayal remains stubbornly unchanged.

While she may be silent and wrapped up in her thoughts as they travel, Luu Sânh's senses remain keen and ever-alert.


2 people marked this as a favorite.

"That's... a good description," Luu Sânh replies, a smile playing on her lips for what she realises is probably the first time in a good long while. "I'm glad that he did." Hearing about this act first-hand has given her a better measure of the man and she files it away in his favour.

"A big metal imaginary friend that's real," she repeats quietly to herself. She had forgotten the imagination that children had and their way with words that sometimes finds new ways to express things. A half-remembered glimpse of the past floats to the surface of her mind: a small girl touching her father's upper lip and pronouncing it a 'beard tunnel'. Her dad had loved to tease her about that but she is unsure whether it is actually her memory or simply one created by Luu Sânh after the fact based on his stories.

She suddenly snaps out her dive into the past as she recollects the all-too-real tunnel they are currently in. Despite the fact that Chezarina had nullified the immediate threat, the overwhelming sense of danger still remains.


1 person marked this as a favorite.

@GM of the Moon Thank you, will be in touch. May also need to rejig things slightly as it turns out from a bit of reading that Leira is no longer dead (or never died depending on retconning), but it doesn't change the fundamentals.

@DeathQuaker I know exactly where you're coming from. I'm very much a 2E/3E FR player too but I think that will still set you in good stead. In very broad terms, the 5E Second Sundering undid a lot of things that the 4E Spellplague did (and a few things that were developed in 3E too, such as the Silver Marches collapsed and the Shades and refounded Cormanthyr essentially destroyed each other). Obviously not everything as is exactly as it was, most notably the hundred-year time jump so many NPCs are no longer around, though plenty of notable ones still are, mind. Given WotC's policy of not really focusing on lore any more, many places in the Realms, especially those outside of the Sword Coast, haven't really had an update so there's not necessarily a lot to catch up on.

Specifically to your point, I believe the pantheon was cut down fairly radically for 4E FR but is basically back up to where it used to be for the 5E Realms. The racial pantheons are all there, including Sehanine.


3 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Hannelia's attempt to keep a civil tongue evaporates in the face of Anya Lupescu's diatribe. "She refused because Shel has clearly learned some lessons about right and wrong, something she self-evidently did not pick up from you," she shoots back. Not for the first time, Roger's comment cuts to the heart of the matter and it's that which clarifies for Hannelia what has been bothering her about this whole thing and why she feels an attachment to Shel. "I don't see you volunteering to exchange places."

For most people, using the phrase "I'd die for my children" is an abstract but she casts her mind back a decade to a deep feeling as much as memory: the impossibly powerful swipe of an owlbear's claw, of crushed ribs and too much blood. She has no doubt that Cammus Venator would have made the switch with his daughter without thinking. Zuke too, for that matter. Yet in this case it doesn't seem to have crossed either of the elder Lupescus' minds. She doesn't like, but can at least understand, the lack of moral courage - or just the straight hopelessness that would likely end in a swift death - to take a stand against this in the face of the cult. Anybody who has grown up in Isger under the Chelaxian boot can relate to this to at least some degree. But it's this total selfishness, and the way they would manipulate their daughter for their own ends that Hannelia despises.

She knows she is lucky to have the love of a good man as her father. And yet she was also robbed of a mother she cannot even remember. And compared to Sirio and Constantine in turn, that feels like a huge thing, and that's disregarding the numerous stains further back that darken Constantine's bloodline. Even Emma's mother, a hero of some renown, a great warrior and clearly a huge positive influence on her friend, was no perfect parent. Some lessons on self-care and some praise and recognition of what Emma can do would not have gone amiss in Hannelia's opinion. You can't choose your family, she reflects, not for the first time, on the roll of the dice that this turns out to be.

Hannelia thinks of Shel and how hard it must have been to stand up to her parents. From their brief interactions and they way she talked about her father, it was clear that he loves and admires him, not to mention her horror at his unmasking. She deserves better, she mouths silently, before suddenly wondering if she has actually said the words aloud, snapping her out her thoughts.

To her companions she says, "Much as I dislike it, I'm not sure I can see a lot of choice in the situation."

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15


1 person marked this as a favorite.

That sounds like a lot, hope you're doing ok. And happy birthday!


1 person marked this as a favorite.

The sound of metal on metal has Luu Sânh bouncing to her feet, her scimiatar snapping into her hand in a quick sweeping movement. The clanking noise is swiftly followed by a call. She casts around to see if she can see anybody else - there's no attempt at stealth here, so if this is an ambush then the speaker is the decoy.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15

Looking towards the treeline she can see a heavily armoured figure, clad entirely in a silvery metal trapping, bar the head, which is sylphan and looks to Luu Sânh's eyes at least as rather incongruous with the rest of the man. He stops and she can see him looking at her in the same way she is trying to scrutinise him. What he sees is a fairly typical undine, turquoise-skinned with masses of green hair, and the ease of the grip on her blade and defensive stance she has adopted suggests a seasoned warrior. The fine white robe wrapped around her slim figure stands out as it appears pristine, contrasting somewhat with the dirt and wear that can be seen on both her skin and other equipment. She glances at Chezarina before taking the lead. "Halt where you are," she calls warily. "Identify yourself and your purpose."


1 person marked this as a favorite.

Watching the wisps of smoke climb into the sky overhead, Luu Sânh purses her lips but says nothing. She's unsure if this is what her new companion was intending but fire, whether magical or otherwise, is far more in the ifrit's wheelhouse than her own. Besdies, she grudgingly admits to herself, Chezarina has shown herself to be more than capable in numerous ways over the past few days, not least with her bow. Perhaps it's the unusual circumstances - and the madness of it all really is being undersold by that description - but for an ifrit she actually seems quite reasonable and certainly less up her own backside than most of the firekin elens she's met.

Luu Sânh is used to waiting - it is the soldier's lot to deal with lengthy periods of inactivity between the heavy stuff of combat - and she watches her companion toss the pebbles one after the other in the kind of game she recognises as one designed to kill time. She reaches into her pack and retrieves a bottle. Taking a brief swig of kelpwine, she savours the salty tang in her throat, a taste of home, and silently offer the bottle to her companion.


2 people marked this as a favorite.

Very much still WIP and lots more to add from my working document but Luu Sânh at least now has a profile.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Despite Hannelia's hasty arrow flying wide of the mark, the group are able to put down the stirges with ease. Rather more problematic, however, is Constantine, who appears to be possessed. Emma does a valiant job of stopping him grabbing his neck while he spits out what might pass for verse or song in something she believes to be one of the harsh tongues of the lower planes.

For the second time in a short period of time she finds herself missing Sirio. The Asmodean is conversant in both Abyssal and Infernal, which would obviously be useful, and his familiar presence, one Constantine has known for many years, may help break this spell.

He looks panicked as Emma's hand moves towards her swordhilt and Hannelia too gestures to her not to draw steel. "I don't either," she replies. "Constantine is the real polyglot among us, which isn't particularly useful right now, just as it's unhelpful that Sirio isn't here. However," she continues, mentally sifting through the contents of her backpack, "I do have a solution. I think."

Slinging her bow over her right shoulder, Hannelia holds her hands out in front of her so as to appear non-threatening as Constantine approaches the pond. "Constantine," she says firmly, "can you understand us? Nod your head for yes, shake it for no please and make it nice and clear. I'm going to cast a spell that should allow me to understand you, at least for a while. If I understand it correctly, I don't think it will let me speak back to you in the same tongue, but if you can understand us now then we will be able to converse while we work out what's going on." She waits for his reply before she opens her scroll case, not wanting to further worry him with what may appear to be a threatening action.

Scroll of comprehend languages looking pretty handy right now.


4 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

Knowledge dungeroneering: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Hannelia narrows her eyes as Majara relays her understanding of faceless stalkers. That certainly would complicate things and it sounds all too plausible given what they know about the misbegotten. She had been getting used to trusting people, a breath of fresh air given her strict -and strictly necessary - business-like manner when passing information to her clients. If she were being truly honest, she even liked the fact she could do so. And now this dilemma had come along and potentially scattered to the winds the neat pile of cards she had quietly been stacking.

Hannelia glances surreptitiously around at the group, not so much because she distrusts them but to just see if any of them seem different. They certainly seem familiar enough, and comfortable. And at least Majara had provided a logical solution to the problem almost as quickly as she had raised it. She nods at the gnome's mention of Zuke and picks up the thread Roger has been tugging at, a wry smile crossing her lips at her uncharacteristically reckless action. "Yes," she says, "Anilda was her name and she was a nuffekeen. I hope she made it out of the house," she adds. "And not so long after that, you produced the most fantastic dice, Roger." Hannelia had coveted those dice and fully intends to acquire a set of her own, for who could not love the tactile feel of them and their beautiful polyhedric design?

As Constantine adds his own truths to the others, she catches her friend's eye and inclines her head in respect at the long shadow of the war. Indeed, the fact that he simply refers to it with the definitive article is telling, for despite the many conflicts throughout Golarian's past and present, only one has had such an impact on their short lives. "And you've all now met my father," she adds quietly. "You know that he lost a leg during the war." She leaves it unsaid that her mother was also a victim of the Goblinblood Wars.


1 person marked this as a favorite.
GM RelicBlackOUT wrote:

I am off tomorrow and this game is getting 100% of my attention while the kids are at school.

Thanks so much for all the submissions, besides DeJoker I’d say that we are good with who all has submitted. If I missed a question, please reply to it so I can see the OP. Also, feel free to shoot me a PM and I’ll get you my Discord.

Thanks for the opportunity, there are some great characters there so I don't envy you having to make a decision! Best of luck to all.


2 people marked this as a favorite.
Female Human Bard (archaeologist) 4 | AL: NG | Init: +3 | Per: +9 | AC 18, T 13, FF 15 | HP: 33/33 | F +3, R +7, W +4 | Luck 6/6 | 2nd level spells 2/2 | 1st level spells 4/4 | Conditions: -

The strands of webbing are tougher than Hannelia had expected but she is able to work her sword through them in order to free Roger's arms and torso. Able to join in himself, it's not long after that before the pirate is able to shake himself completely loose of the bonds. "Are you ok?" she asks.

While they have been working at that, the others have been busy unmasking the rest of the figures and binding them in turn.

At the sound of a girl's voice, Hannelia turns in the direction of the general store. Shel. Her heart goes out to the girl - nobody would ever wish to see their father in such a situation - and she can hardly blame her for reacting angrily.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

Still, her father had come into the store and then left it again - surely Shel would have had some awareness of him going out by another exit? Hannelia scrutinises her face, still pretty even while red and spitting accusations.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 2 = 28

"Shel," she says, quietly but clearly. She makes a show of sheathing her sword and approaches the girl, palms up to show she means no harm but keeping a safe distance between them so as not to appear threatening. "I'm sorry you've had to see this, nobody would enjoy that. As Constantine" - she gestures towards the occultist - "says, we were attacked by these men and some kind of giant spider creature with powerful magic." And of course its really damn inconvenient that there's no trace of it any more.

Trying to gauge which way to play things, Hannelia. decides that as the girl had reacted positively to them before, the truth is the best route - not least because they have limited real knowledge of what's going on and she doesn't need to share her darker speculations. "Honestly, right now that's about as much as we know. If I had to guess, I'd say it's most likely that the spider was orchestrating things. We think these people may be under some kind of mind controlling effect so it's a precaution to keep them harming themselves or anybody else." Although she's not sure whether she believes this, Hannelia instinctively wants to give Shel something positive to hold on to.

"So no, we didn't lie to you. I've too much respect for you to that, I don't think you're a child to be patronised. It's just..." she unconsciously wrinkles her nose in distaste, "sometimes what is straightforward in a story is a lot more complicated while it's happening." She looks Shel directly in the eye. "I promise you, Shel, we will get to the bottom of this."


1 person marked this as a favorite.
Cleric (ecclesitheurge) of Shelyn 2 | AL NG | Init +6 | Per +3 | AC 13 (T 12, FF 11) | HP 19/19 | F +5, R +2, W +6 |
Special Abilities:
Adoration 6/6 (DC 14), Bit of Luck 6/6, Blessing of the Faithful (unlimited), Channel Energy 3/4 (DC 12)
Spells:
Spell Slots: Lvl 0 4, Lvl 1 3+1/4 | Concentration: +5 | Lvl 0: Create Water, Light, Read Magic, Stabilise | Lvl 1: Bless, Protection from Evil x2, Shield (Domain) | Spontaneous Casting: Cure

Satisfied that they will reconvene on the morrow, Jhessa hugs each of her companions in turn, quietly noting their reaction, and bids them all goodnight.

Retracing her steps back to her chamber, she knocks lightly on the adjoining door to Isa's room. She has to shush her friend as she excitably throws her arms around Jhessa and is forced to take a couple of steps back to keep her balance under the force of the crushing embrace. "Thank Sarenrae, you're back!" she exclaims. "I was so worried when we heard someone had been killed and we've all been stuck down here while you've been having your meeting. Not that it stopped Arrol from trying to eavesdrop but I think there must have been magical wards as he said he couldn't hear a word." Isa lets go of the smaller girl and steps back, locking her big brown eyes on Jhessa's blue ones. "What happened, Jhess?" she asks.

Jhessa flops down onto her bed and beckons for her friend to sit next to her. Isa hops up, folding her legs under herself as Jhessa talks her through everything that had happened. The younger girl is an attentive audience despite Jhessa's heartfelt yet perfunctory storytelling, and she gasps and cheers in all the right places. For the first time in a long time Jhessa is truly able to relax, able to be honest and unload all of her worries, knowing her friend will just listen and support her and right now that means the world to her.

She skirts around their new mission, simply saying that Kassen's ghost had spoken of further quests and adding - not untruthfully - that she doesn't exactly know what will happen next. Jhessa has been rooming with Isa for a year now and she trusts the other girl absolutely but she doesn't want to unduly worry her friend and would prefer to give her the full picture once the details have been ironed out.

Telling the story and being in the company of someone she knows well has given Jhessa a second - or even third, at this point she's lost track - wind and time seems to fly. However, after they have been talking for closer to two hours than one, she is struggling to stifle increasingly frequent yawns. "Sorry, Jhess, you must be exhausted," Isa says apologetically, burying her head in Jhessa's tangle of blonde curls and indulging in another long hug before retreating to the door to the adjacent chamber. "I'm just glad you're back. Sleep well." Jhessa manages a small smile, "Trust me, I will."

Alone, Jhessa considers on how lucky she is to have such a good friend and hopes that in time she will get to know her new companions just as well. She's already confident that they will look after and protect each other but she always wants to get under the skin and understand them better on a personal level. Well, it looks like we'll have plenty of time for that, she reflects.

She pulls her dancing dress over her head - as she suspected, there will be no dancing tonight - before hanging it back up neatly on her clothes rail, and slipping on her nightdress. She washes her face and hands and pulls a brush repeatedly through her hair. The familiar beauty routine gives her a sense of normality that has been lacking in the last few days and she recites a simple prayer of thanks to Shelyn as she performs it. Just as she is about to get into bed, Jhessa notices that the flowers in her vase had started to look a bit sad, so with a few words and a touch of her finger the roses immediately perk up and release a waft of scent, as if to signal her goddess' approval. Feeling decidedly warm and fuzzy as this time she does climb wearily into bed, her golden hair unfurls across the pillow as she falls instantly into a deep, mercifully dreamless slumber.