Sylva Belle's page

Will: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (6) + 16 = 22
Heroic Will ☀️: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (20) + 16 = 36
Overkill, but at least the hero point was not in vain!

Sylva is not at all distracted by the disturbing revelation.

“I don’t remember it all, but I know who I am. Most likely, I was forced to act against my will. Or if I’m wrong—if I was a sadistic villain?—then that Me is dead. And this Me and Sir Bat and Zienvus are gonna get you outta here alive!”

She rises from the ground, fists clenched. She’s not expecting Ilakni to just snap out of his funk and walk.

“That’s because I killed him,” Sylva says. “But you won’t share his fate. I can see from the blackness in your eyes that you’re a puppet. Is that whale pulling your strings?”

Sylva wonders, “Were we mindless puppets or willing accomplices? I always thought I was a bad comedienne.. not a bad person.”

She isn’t sure what to believe, but saving the one who still lives is right whether it redeems us or not.

“The survivor… I hope we’re not too late.”

Sylva flutters her energetic wings.

“Yeah, I can help you look around.”

She stays under the protection of the shield. At this point, Sir Bat offering his shield with no active threat in sight is not paranoia. It’s wisdom.

Perception +18

“Oh… wow is that horrible…”

Sylva would rather not look at the broken bodies, especially the broken faces. But the guard’s brother is likely among the six. Looking for familial features on a shattered corpse is not as pleasant as asking him would have been.

Nature or Survival: 1d20 + 9 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 9 + 5 = 32
34, if Medicine applies for ID’ing a corpse after meeting his sister once.

“They WHAT?!” Sylva says in alarm.

She glares at the melting bits of ice from the skelexplosions, then turns to Zienvus (at least for the moment she can apply medicinal herbs by feel). “Zienvus, you’re a magical guy. I’d like to think it takes a great deal of brain-power to get as far as you got with magic.”

She has music play at will, just do show she can do something magical.

“So then maybe you can explain this. Why would anybody cast a spell on a guy they’re trying to kill, if the only way the spell even matters, if the guy they’re trying to kill kills them instead? It’s like avenging your own death with a revenge prank! What does Ill Fortune even do, make Sir Batman fart in public?” Turning to the hero-guy-sprite who has saved her life several times, Sylva vows: “If you do, I swear to Shelyn I’ll pardon you. It won’t be your fault. I’ll also keep my eye out for banana peels, falling pianos and reckless wheelchair drivers. Whatever ill fortunes I can divert.”

Sylva’s voice cracks with worry.

Yeah, you’re gonna be the one to keep danger off the Master of the Bat Shield? What’s in your belfry, Sylva J. Belle?

Sylva whips out her med kit…

Med Sir Bat: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (16) + 16 = 32
Heal: 4d8 ⇒ (6, 8, 4, 4) = 22

And while tending her flank-buddy’s wound, she says, “Who put those skeletons up to that? I hope when I die, my bones won’t run around and blow up in people’s faces.

“Necromancy… ain’t cool.” She’s not sure what else to say about it. Truthfully, she’s pretty happy with how the battle went. And despite bursting ice-skeletons, it is warmer in here than out there…

@Sir Bat, while I appreciate the present, I left Discord about a year ago.

Refx: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (16) + 19 = 35
Will: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26
♥️35/96
_
Evasive Reflexes: When you roll a success on a Reflex save, you get a critical success instead.

Sylva somehow escapes the skeleton’s shattering death!—but not the hungry jaws of the other bag of bones! “Ow! Ow! Ow! He started it!” She dodges his final attack, and with a tumbling kick followed by a couple more, she tries to smash the remaining foe!

(She strikes as soon as the bat-shield is there to back her up!)
Tumble + 2 atks: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (7) + 21 = 281d20 + 19 ⇒ (13) + 19 = 321d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35
Hit?: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 + (5, 3) = 19
Hit!: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 4) + 6 + (6, 6) = 23
Crit!: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 6 + (6, 4) = 20 x2 = 40

Sylva waits for Sir Bat.

If he attacks with melee, she’ll fly to flank position!
If he breathes fire again, she’ll do two attacks and fly up.

Tumble Srike: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (13) + 21 = 34
Damage?: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 + (1, 2) = 13

Attacks: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (15) + 19 = 34
Damage?: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 + (4, 5) = 22

If the skeleton is still standing AND Sir Bat is there with his shield, Sylva makes one more attack. But if there’s no Bat Shield or enemy to hit, she flies 15 feet overhead again.

Attacks: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (10) + 15 = 25
Damage?: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 + (1, 5) = 17

Oh! They changed how sprites work! I had NO idea I could fly for this entire game. It used to be Energize Wings granted a minute or ten minutes of flight. I was looking it up and learned Evanscent Wings give flight. So wow… flying for the first time!
_
Not complaining though. Sprites SHOULD have had flight at Lv.1, instead having to wait until Lv.17, so good move, Paizo!

After Sir Bat fire-breaths the skeletons, Sylva flies at her foe (preferably, the most damaged) like she’s never flown before!

Aerobatic Tumbling Strike: 1d20 + 21 ⇒ (6) + 21 = 27
Strike, if hit: 2d4 + 1d6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) + (3) + (6, 2) = 14

Atk: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (9) + 19 = 28
2nd Strike: 2d4 + 1d6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 4) + (4) + (4, 5) = 18

Instead of striking again, Sylva flies up, well outta melee reach!

I guess this is our rest stop.

Sylva follows Sir Bat to the temple, cautiously. Aaaaand stealthily, in case he draws the attention of a creepy creature.

Sylva is very well covered, albeit by an outfit that is completely transparent from the inside so the hood cannot impair Sylva’s peripheral vision. She considers using her Dweomerweave Robe’s magic to reveal her mark of the gatewalker… but how idiotic she would look for the next 24 hours!

She draws the Mark of the Gatewalker in the snow.

“All of us who had a missing moment bear this mark. Have you seen the mark on your brother, by any chance? We’re all covered up because of the cold, but… y’know, if it’s on the back of his hand or his forehead or whatever.” And come to think of it, the woman is a guard—now anyway; not necessarily when her brother disappeared. But is it possible she was guarding the gate with him and his disappearance is her missing moment?

Sylva takes the chance, though it’s such a long-shot… she would feel a bit dumb asking the woman if she bears the mark herself. She might not even have seen it on her brother, like what if it’s on his butt?

So anyway, Sylva points to the mark she drew and asks the elven woman, “Is the mark familiar to you?”

The Execution
Sylva’s eyes have that distant look they had before, when she gutted the centaur, or when she was doused in the blood of the predator that swallowed Sir Bat.

But her expression brightens as the little slime creature scampers off.

He’s free…

She lets someone else carry the dagger. I believe Sylva already has a +1 Striking Rune. I could probably benefit from the armor, though.

• • •

At Present
Sylva flits about on wings. Wings! She remembers stories of the wingless sprite Hotcha, who barely survived the final battle in the Ruby Phoenix tournament and struck the winning blow. Her wings were seven colors of wines and ales! Will I ever earn wing like her, and what will they be like?

Her wings fade after a while, but Sylva sleeps well that night, knowing she’s going through the first change. Someday, she will no longer be referred to as Wingless..!

“Killed…? Many.”

Perhaps the evidence was there in front of her, as Zienvus had easily seen. But I was in denial. And the ‘good doctor’ would’ve murdered me in my sleep…

She puts a hand on Sir Bat’s shoulder. “The shackles won’t be necessary.” She glances at the dagger.

Unless someone objects, Sylva delivers the coup de grâce.

Sylva asks the others, “What do we do with him? I don’t wanna kill him.” She wonders if he’ll be executed for his crimes anyway, but “he did cut me a lot of slack when I stole his fork. Sure, he was probably just manipulating me, but that experience set me on a path where I really have no desire to steal. And I realized how much it meant to me when I hunted down the psycho that murdered that poor Desnan girl, and took him out.”

She recalls that day vividly, including the unpleasantness. And as she thinks on it, she has no regrets at all. It was a moment that showed her the difference between turning a blind eye to evil, and taking immediate action to stop it. A prisoner would have died, had she hesitated…

“Dr. Ritalson has to answer for his crimes, though. So I’m not saying we let him go.” She turns to Snowy Owl. “Am I being unrealistic?” Sylva has to admit, she and her friends aren’t authority figures. Hauling the doctor off to prison would be troublesome, which is fine, but “is calling on Osoyo even considered a crime?

“I just… don’t want him to kill anyone. But I…” The sprite’s eyes start to well. Killing the serial killer was easy to do. She saw a woman’s blood trail. She knew what horrible fates his victims suffered. But this is Dr. Ritalson! He was merciful. He was deceptive. He betrayed her but does that make him so bad that…?

Her eyes flicker to the dagger. Then she looks at Snowy Owl. She can’t bear to even ask…

Sylva ▶️rushes the doc!

“I can’t believe I trusted you!”

She tumbles under the Doc’s legs and kicks his ankle!

▶️Tumbling Strike: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28
Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 + (6, 4) = 21

“Were you always this power-hungry? Or did you change?”

She jump-punches his armpit!

▶️Atk: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (9) + 18 = 27
Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (4, 2) + 6 + (4, 4) = 20

Sylva’s heart isn’t in a fight, if she’s to be honest. But she also knows that what Dr. Ritalson did to the barrier, he’ll do to her.

However, she ▶️strides over to the bronze bat and picks on the someone her own size.

“You’re cute, so I’m just gonna knock you out.”

Nonlethal damage, because she can.
▶️Tumbling Strike! vs. Ref.DC: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (6) + 18 = 24
Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) + 6 + (6, 1) = 16
▶️Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (12) + 18 = 30
Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 6 + (5, 5) = 22

Sylva is clearly conflicted about attacking the doctor while he’s confined (even if she could without accidentally freeing him).

She studies the creature perched on the shoulder of the once-perceived-as-‘good’ doctor.
▶️Recall Kn., Nature(?): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17

Other than that, she is ⏩️ready to bolt under the protective Bat-Shield, IF the doctor (or the green guy, whatever he is, targets her. I think it’s two actions to ready a one-action move, and my action’s condition is: if Sylva is targeted. It would be silly to rush into an AoE move when I’m better off staying put. If the stealth rolls hold as long as Sylva is quiet and in one place, she probably will not be targeted.

Sylva thinks it foolish to give away her position of stealth. But then, there’s no reason to hide the fact that she’s here either.

⏩️Musical Accompaniment

Exciting battle music begins to play!

“I should give you five seconds to stand down. But you were nice to me about that fork, so I’ll give you six.”

With the music all around, Sylva chances that shouting out doesn’t necessarily mean the doctor or his little green friend can pinpoint her location.

She swiftly and silently moves elsewhere—

▶️Stealth - swift sneak/foil senses: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (14) + 18 = 32
Move within 15 feet of the doctor, not on the same side that Bat and Z are on, in case of AoE attack.

—close enough to shout at the doctor and blast him with ice magic.

Sylva notices the green slimy thing, and where its gaze is focused. And it’s not looking at her, so…

She says in a deep voice, “The only one who exposed himself is you, Doc! Confess, and my boys hold their arrows.”
Distracting Performance: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

(Sowing confusion is the hope of benefitting my allies, though this feat may only be useful if they intend to sneak away.)

Sylva’s not really sure that was more helpful than staying quiet. For her own safety, she swiftly and silently moves from where she was—
Sneak (foil senses + swift sneak): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 33

Hopefully, that slime-leprechaun will look for archers and their boss, at least long enough for Big Z and Sir Bat to make a move.

Also, if things go well, I’m gonna find out whether intellectual’s like being called Big Z…

I can’t believe I felt guilty for trying to steal his fork.

Sylva does not seriously think the doctor is a weakling. His Mr. Nice Guy act really had her. The safe assumption is that if she were to confront him alone, he’s not the one who’d end up impaled on a fork.

She reports her finding to the others…

(If Whisper was cast, please assume Sylva shares everything in the GM narrative.)

Sylva says, “I think I should find out what these guards are guarding. If ya got a spell you can use to telepathically stay in touch, now’s the time to cast it.”

She attempts to sneak by…
Stealth Mode: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28

Oh! Cold Res means cold magic will happen—finally!
_
Z. can hold the hand though. Kinda ruins it if someone smaller than a human hand wears the oversized hand. (But then, I might be hardcore about how fairies should be.)

Sylva of course wants to make sure everyone is healed up before she gladly proceeds northward.

“Gross, yeah… but we’ve been through worse. Um… haven’t we?” I hope I’m not being desensitized..!

“Ow! You just made your last mistake!”

She strikes! (when her flank buddy starts buddily flankin’)

Atk x3: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (4) + 18 = 221d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 251d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21
1st hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 1) + 6 + (5, 2) = 17
2nd hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (4, 4) + 6 + (2, 6) = 22
IF hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) + 6 + (6, 4) = 23

“—maybe your second-last mistake,” she mumbles as her attacks don’t quite hit like before.

I keep forgetting about opportune strike!

Sylva agrees it’s fun, but her wild attacks seem to hit either really hard or not at all!
“Take THAT and WHOOPS and HEY, STAY STILL!”

Attack: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (14) + 18 = 321d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 181d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
Crit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 3) + 6 + (5, 1) = 17 x 2 = 34
If that crit takes the foe down, please consider my other two actions a move to the enemy and a failed attack.

“Ouch!” Sylva yelps. Maybe less an ouch if Sir Bat’s shield reduces damage.

“If you stayed in the tank, we wouldn’t be having issues. But we are having issues, so HIYAA!”

Solve Issues with Violence!: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (17) + 18 = 351d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32
Crit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 + (6, 4) = 21 x 2 = 42
Crit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) + 6 + (4, 1) = 14

Not sure if that’s two crits, or if 32 (flanking with Sir Bat) just misses that!

If the enemy drops in two blows, Sylva moves to the remaining foe!

Will: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23

After having a centaur’s guts rain upon her, being doused with the blood of a predatory bird, and her traumatic experience of following the trail of a woman’s blood spilled over the saddle of her trotting steed… the little sprite has become hardened to the realities of the Big People’s world. Watching this abomination die a gory death doesn’t faze her as it sure would have a week or two ago.

She fights the next enemy as if nothing happened other than tge removal of a threat to her batty friend.
Attack!: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (15) + 18 = 331d20 + 14 ⇒ (1) + 14 = 151d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
Hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 2) + 6 + (4, 6) = 21
Crit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) + 6 + (1, 6) = 20 x 2 = 40

Sylva harrumphs, “Immune to my Ice Scream, eh? Well maybe you prefer a knuckle sandwich!” She throws a punch. “And some toe jam!” She follows with a kick!

Attacks!: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (4) + 18 = 221d20 + 14 ⇒ (15) + 14 = 291d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
If Hit, Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 + (1, 4) = 13
Definitely Hit, Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 2) + 6 + (6, 1) = 16
Maybe with Flank it Hit, Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (3, 3) + 6 + (4, 3) = 19

Sylva is pretty freaked out. She hopes that the liquid forms are vulnerable to her only magic attack: harsh language!

Flat 5: 1d20 ⇒ 6
⏩️Ice Scream: 6d6 ⇒ (4, 1, 5, 1, 3, 6) = 20

Sylva ▶️moves to the relative safety of Sir Bat’s shield!

Sylva peers at the creature in the tank.

“As an aquatic fairy, I most highly recommend a soothing bath. It soothes you! Really!”

Deception: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (13) + 18 = 31

In case her clever trickery doesn’t work, Sylva keeps working on the valves and latches and such…

Thievery: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34

Sylva panics as the Guest tries to bust out. “Eep!”

Her evanscent wings get her exactly where she needs to reach, and the tiny rogue very desperately tries to use her tools to oppose the breakout attempt!

One action to get into position; two actions to Disable Device.

Thievery DD: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (20) + 16 = 36

“Stay in there, ya multi-eyed ogler with a tinkling fetish!”

Sylva looks at the levers. ”Okay… why would we want to… umm… what would the consequence be it… umm…?”

Thievery: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (16) + 16 = 32
Thievery and Games Lore (which would be 27 with that roll) are the only possibly-relevant skills Sylva has. I’m not sure if we *can* roll for further insight, or if we just gotta solve the puzzle dicelessly—which is fine. But I rolled just in case.
_
And if the roll does nothing, Sylva does not consider herself to be the smartest person in the room. She will confer before she acts.

“…Zienvus? You probably know how contraptions are supposed to work from all that academic stuff you do, right?”

Sylva grimaces awkwardly.

“Is there a way to turn the scrying off while I pee?”

“Aww, but it’s heard to sneak up on the bad guys if I gotta lug something heavy.” Sylva knocks on the shield, and it certainly feels like a heavy thing to her!

No problem, Z! I forgot!

Flats: 3d20 ⇒ (2, 6, 9) = 17
1st hit missed.
2nd and 3rd hit, if I beat the AC.

With one creature left, Sylva goes for the knockout blow!

<You might be glittery, but this is not your time to shine!>

Attack a lot: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 171d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 221d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
Sylva’s cocky words are probably definitely the reason her limbs flail wildly.

Flanking, so maybe a hit or two…
Damage of 2nd Impact, if Hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 + (2, 6) = 16
Damage of 3rd Strike, if Hit: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) + 6 + (5, 6) = 21

Sylva strikes back!

Flat 11, Atk: 1d20 ⇒ 141d20 + 16 ⇒ (12) + 16 = 28
Dmg: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) + 6 + (2, 3) = 13

—and yells cold harsh words in Draconic!

Flat 5: 1d20 ⇒ 10
Ice Scream: 6d6 ⇒ (1, 5, 6, 4, 3, 1) = 20

Sylva warns her team, [b]“Something invisible’s here!”

She moves within 25’ of the door if need be, but if she’s already close enough she remains at Sir Bat’s side.
Flat DC5: 1d20 ⇒ 12
Ice Scream Cone: 6d6 ⇒ (5, 6, 1, 4, 6, 1) = 23

Her voice is loud and shrill and frigid! A cone of icy breath freezes whoever or whatever is barging in!

Zienus’ dry humor puts a small smile on Sylva’s face, despite the grim sight.

Seeing that Sir Bat wants to go on, Sylva uses her skills to hopefully get everyone through the locking-and-possibly-trapped doors safely.

Thievery: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (14) + 16 = 30

Soc: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14
Nooe!

“Okay… Brain removal. There’s never a good reason for that, or else our skulls would have come with a separate Lid-Bone. Skulls don’t have a natural opening, and that’s not a design flaw. Hahaha.”

He laugh is not a laugh to be cute or because she thinks she’s funny. It’s definitely a nervous laugh. Sylva is terrified and her bravado is, at the moment, unconvincing.

Thievery: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (1) + 16 = 17

Sylva stares at the diagram, but her mind is wandering. It’s the telepathic ooze whale. Or so she tells herself. Yeah, when you f~$! up, blame the ooze whale…

“The oo… well… uhh… yeah. This is way over my head.”

Don’t blame the ooze whale when you can make a self-deprecating short-joke. Good save, she tries to convince herself.

Dr. Rit—OOH! Sylva flits back in the room (with her hand raised). “Ooh! I just thought of a quesh…ton.”

Seeing the oozy creature is gone, Sylva lowers her hand and fades into the shadows. Avoiding notice (again).

Sylva feels a sense of relief as the being does not attack. She isn’t sure whether she should follow its instructions… but it’s not like the mystery’s gonna solve itself.

She replies, “Haha, okay, thanks,” and starts moving toward the blessed one…

Avoiding notice.

Sylva replies, “I put one of Dr. Ritalson’s pure silver forks in my room, so that klepto-maniacal appetite of mine is satiated for now.”

She looks at Sir Bat and Zienivus for a moment, an expression of grim resignation betraying her bravado before she turns back to the monstrosity. “All I remember was money—but it’s money I can never have! And it’s money I don’t even want if I can’t earn it without bloodshed!

“So no, I don’t know what my Missing Moment is missing!! I don’t know if I wanna know.”

And from the quiver in her voice before she shuts up, Sir Bat has his answer. Yes, Sylva feels a chill. She’s terrified. Not just of the ooze-monster (though it certainly is on her Top Two list of Scary Things), but of the unknown. A memory was taken from Sylva and the other gatewalkers… what was it? How is it possible that so many people forgot? And why are demonic creatures so interested in those who bear the mark?

Oh! Well, pressing on it is, then!

Sylva replies to Snowy Owl, “Speaking of unusual powers, if any of you cast ice magic, I think I can actually harness the magic.”

I haven’t done any icy punches yet! But it’s only good for one round, I think. And I have Opportune Backstab, which is more damaging than the ice bonus to three successful strikes.

She tries to avoid notice as the party pushes forward.

Sylva is in shock. “But… he was so forgiving when I stole his…”

Fork. It was a fork. A fork, even one made of pure silver, is nothing to a wealthy man. Sylva’s guilt was what made it something. And looking back, the good doctor even pulled Nox to a new operation when the elderly sprite seemed to care more about a serial killer than his innocent victim. He slapped me… and suddenly he was reassigned.

She dismisses this as coincidence. Nox’s replacement and other guests, such as Lunja, are obviously not ‘in on it’ or ‘keeping tabs.’

Focusing on the here-and-now: Sir Bat has always been a sprite Sylva trusted with her life. Snowy Owl has undergone a beautiful and holy transformation. And her trust to Zienvus is mutual, she’s sure, as he is sharing this information. And he was right… the fiends were here to guard Dr. Ritalson’s secret. Which means she was a fool to trust the ‘good’ doctor.

Maybe even ‘doctor’ should get air-quotes.

“Sir Bat, Zienvus… I fear the doctor—” (Sylva does not make air-quotes with her fingers.) “—has a reason for gathering us. That is, people with the mark of the missing moment.”

She activates the dweomerweave robe’s magic, transforming her outfit so the top is just a bandeau. And the bottom is a shin-length pair of cloths that cover her front and back but expose the sides of her legs.

IMAGE, but not the outfit described.

The mark is nearly her full five-inch height! Two dots on her cheeks, one on each shoulder. The gate’s arc above her breasts, down her torso. The mountain peak at her belly button, with lines down each leg to form the mountainsides.

(Sylva is too ladylike to stand in the way that would correctly shape the slopes, but aside from that) she turns to Snowy Owl, letting the newly-ordained deity get a good look at the mark (or as much as Sylva is willing to show, for decency’s sake).

“Is there power in this mark?” Obviously there is, or she wouldn’t scream ice, but what Sylva means is: “Power that can be exploited, or…”

She recalls the fate that the victim on the horse had escaped… unlike her friend who (in a sense) became the monster that killed her. And she swallows hard, complexion paling…

“…consumed?”

I’m fine with you using the charges and reading for 2 hours.

Sylva suggests, “I’ll stand guard while someone who can read all that reads all that.” She assumes that person is not Sir Bat, “Care to join me, Sir Bat? …in just standing here? Guarding?”

Sylva eases out of her fighting stance, relaxes her clenched fists…

“Haha! Wow, that was not what I expected to find in Dr. Ritalson’s home!” She’s laughing from the relief—as in good thing we stopped this, but her face grows serious. “Hey wait a minute—if these things’re in his home, and we ain’t seen him… should we be worried?”

She considers the Doctor’s last letter, the reassignments, the invitations… at the very least, she doesn’t think he’s ‘in on it’—whatever ‘it’ might be. And there isn’t a trail of blood, so no sense worrying that he’s hurt-or-worse. He’s not home, she tells herself. That’s the story ya been told and you’re stickin’ to it (until further notice).

She puts on a smile. It’s probably convincing as far as false smiles go… but probably unconvincing since nobody follows ‘should-we-worry’ with a smile.

“Well… the good doctor definitely won’t object to further exploration. Are ya hurt?” she asks the men.

DC15 Med: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23
Heal: 2d8 ⇒ (6, 5) = 11
Whoever has less HP gets healed.
A second roll to someone else if, after Sir Bat’s LoH, someone else is still hurt.
DC15 Med: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (20) + 15 = 35
Heal: 4d8 ⇒ (8, 6, 4, 3) = 21

“Didn’t your summoner ever tell ya not to play with fire?”

Sylva continues to clobber the flanked foe!

Triple Combo: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (17) + 16 = 331d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 311d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
First Strike: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 + (6, 5) = 21
Second Strike: 2d4 + 6 + 2d6 ⇒ (2, 2) + 6 + (5, 5) = 20

Oh, I keep forgetting my reaction! If Sir Bat hits Sylva’s foe, Sylva gets another hit. And this one’s a nat.20 — so don’t miss!

“C’mon, Sir Bat—let’s clean up this hot mess!” In case word-plays are not the best way to communicate a plan, she adds, “In other words, hit the guy next to me so I can knock him out while he’s distracted.”