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Tandri's amber eyes flash pure hate at the creature harming her mistress. While she would love to be the type to jump on its back and sink her teeth into its throat, she is not. Instead she prays to her goddess to get Lady Nightsong the strength to get her down vengeance. And gives a sliver of guidance to Tyr.
With a furrowed brow, Tandri tells herself Studying is important to be useful. Lately she has been... occupied... so has not found time to do so.
Her magic once again fails to connect, frustrating her more. Her spite makes her request her goddess give her mistress more power to hammer the annoying creatures to the hells and back.
Tandri finally looks a little less green in her pink paleness, rising to cast another divine lance at the shadow.
"What are these things?" the little demon dwarf asks outloud as her wings flap and her tail swishes. Worry that every hallway is going to be filled by them
Tandri's lips parted to make a comment on the creature in front of them. Unfortunately not the thing to do at that moment, breathing in to talk, meant breathing in to suck down a lung full of the smoke. She spends the next moments of her life retching on her knees as the others rush into motion to destroy the dark breathers. Somehow she manages to raise her head to send a ray of hornet divinity at the thing fighting Mistress Nightsong.
"There would be more signs of violence in the town if it was attacked by those creatures, wouldn't there?" Tandri asks, peaking around the others into the darkness.
Tandri the ninth After three nights with her mistress in full primal mode, Tandri wakes to a flutter of activity behind her... well, attached to her. Two translucent wings of various shades of fuchsia wrap around her small pink frame. Her succubus bloodline develops further. A long winded way of saying she now has Divine Wings as an ancestry feat. Nature became master and she has access to level 5 spells now: command level 5 to affect 10 targets at once, very vampire-y, and heal level five to support our one living teammate :) I also changed up memorized spells to give her Restoration which if Tandri was thinking properly over those three days, she could have memorized to reduce stupefied.
The trip has been a lavender and crimson tinged fog for the Calistrian priestess. Her faith, her succubus blood, her inner nature all come together to being the perfect delight for her mistresses primal desires. So when all settles, Tandri, while sore, is pink with pride and satisfaction, almost humming, if that is something the small dwarven tiefling was prone to. When they get to the stairs, Tandri attempts to do her secondary tasking and identifies the six skeletal hulks as...
Tandri cries out, not out of fear, just complete surrender and a showering of emotion. She is this for her mistress. Release and surrender, with her nature adding a heck load of sensation for Lady Nightsong's senses.
Tandri's breath catches at the pure primal beauty of her mistress in that moment, her heart thundering inside her, making her yearn so much... but Deregar... there would be regrets. Both in her lady, and in the little pink dwarf. Tandri does not put herself between the man and the Lady, instead she moves around the path on the edge, enough to draw gaze, nonthreating with simmering amber eyes, and a scent filling the area "Mistress... I am yours, if you wish for me to be"
The light in her mistress's eyes as she pummels the creatures makes Tandri's own amber eyes glow in delight. The damage the horrid ones are doing to her though has grown enough to allow Tandri to magically help.
All tears of the perfect porcelain is removed, causing a small swell of prinde in Tandri.
Tandri grasps her hands together, fretting over whether she should repair the damage to her mistress. How many battles are left before rest, she doesn't know, so she decides Lady Nightsong would want her to delay. Instead she fires a luscious crimson beam at the nearest creature, as well as raising a shield around herself.
Tandri's brow furrows as she scans through religious tomes in her head. Nothing about these creatures seem to exist in them though. "I do not know them, Mistress." she admits with more than a little irritation at herself. Elongated arms makes her think grabbing, so she tries to make up for her ignorance by casting freedom of movement on Lady Nightsong as well as guidance.
"Should we attempt to recruit some of the centaurs to serve as meat shields... I mean allies?" the small pink vampire asks. Being controlled, though willingly in her heart mind and soul, is not knew to Tandri so the prospect does not seem nearly as terrifying.
"The bow may be theirs? Returning wayward treasures is a first good step to subjugation." Tandri agrees lightly.
Tandri's tender sewing is accompanied with her amber eyes drifting up to watch her mistress watching back, making her body mimic a thudding heart. Standing she smiles her thanks to Floare for giving her the task of tending their mistress, and follows along to find out "What do we think has happened?"
With her mistress's wounds healing on their own, Tandri concentrates on ending the spriggan.
Tandri's first inclination is to repair her mistress's wounds. But her keen eye for Lady Nightsong's flesh tells her that she will not fall from that blow, while Tyr would. Her healing magic focuses on the dragon instead, including a small boost in his ability to fight.
Tandri follows up Floare's ball of fire with a shining lavender beam of pain.
Tandri sends a tiny bit of harming into her mistress, and provides her with a tiny amount of guidance.
Tandri doesn't fret nearly as much since she became a vampire, the undead coolness seeping down to settle her anxious heart. But the wolverine's are so adorably cute, she has a moment of old Tandri where she wants to wring her hands and beg her mistress to spare them. But no, vampire's do not do that kind of thing. Instead she attempts to make at least one of them run away.
Then she turns to their dragon, and asks him to "make it quick" while enchanting him to be able to do so.
Tandri's black eyebrows arch upward at the mention of animals, but she stifles the desire to pet things. "I have a fear spell, but only the kind to affect a single target."
Tandri accepts the scrolls, doing little to hide the pleasure of receiving them her mistress. While Sari considers the river, the small pink dwarf categorizes them smoothing them out, then presses them into her travel book. Once she realizes the problem, she asks "Could I be carried?" the small humiliation is secondary to smooth at the tiny furrow in her mistress's brow.
As Tandri fires very divine lance again, she looks to her mistress and falters. Suddenly she is unsure if she should be helping. Is this a test for Tyr and Deregar?
Tandri peaks out from her tented dark veil to see the birds ravaging their dragon. "Hmmm..." she says with very little eloquence, then prays into a beam of divine energy that twists around Floare's blinding bolt of electricity to decimate their feathered foes.
"He was a cyclops from an empire that predated Earthfall. Or so the dwarves say." Tandri remembers from her childhood. People liked to recount the horrid evil things in the world around her, since she was likely to join their ranks. There was a song about Vordakai, she thought, and since there was a violin shoved into her hands by her ever night mistress, she tried to remember its melody.
A just barely passible tune, so she stopped.
Once out of the horrid sunlight, Tandri pulls back her hood and examines the hairless gnome. After a few moments, she looks up and is about to say "It's a spriggan. Similar to normal gnomes but delighting in suffering instead of new experiences." but she doesn't because Deregar announces it first, which she is fine with. Really. :)
Tandri has always dressed modestly. Anything to distract from her characteristics that are anything but modest. Her rebirth has changed that. Death providing a lack of caring. She hasn't gone crazy, like a child repressed suddenly free to do as they will, no, but her clothes have been noticeably more form fitting, thin and flowing, showing more of her dusty pink skin. So these robes are not to her new liking. Big bulky thick. But it is better than burning to a crisp. At least she no longer sweated. "They have a church, which might be a place they would have fled to. If the hold, reveals nothing." her voice suggests under the layers.
"There have been no refugees." Tandri says from her desk, still a a statue until she turns a page, which she does with her tail. Her voice holds not a single solitary care for the people of the neighboring land, but the still looks up to add "That is odd. If there was an attack... most foes would be hard pressed to kill or detain all the population, so we should have seen some cross our border."
hunting?: A small pink dwarf with a tail that smells like your perfect bliss, whose every touch sends your heart racing whether she wants it to or not. In this land, everyone knows this woman by sight and knows she is the Lady’s Nightsongs, not to touch, barely even to covet. Tandri had assumed hunting would be a simple task of being a woman alone in the night, waiting for a predator, a thick bullish man who thought her a target. A man she’d lure to a dark corner, then leap on like a rabid squirrel. Satisfying her hunger, her mistress, and her goddess at all once. But they KNEW her, and worse they knew Lady Nightsong, and no one was dumb enough to test Her. It was enough to frustrate a newborn vampire. So she had to do this the hard way. As the unending itch to drink those around her grew, Tandri Rumplespark went to her books. Accounting paperwork showed a merchant caravan with a couple of guards still in the city, scheduled for departure in the morning. A cross-reference with the lady Diplomat’s extensive information gathering found the lead guard was arrogant, big, and a bully. Tandri didn’t have enough time to dig into his past, to find an action that deserved vengeance, but she could assume his type well enough to imagine the need for some at least. They were just guards, so they were bunked in the inn’s stables. A small fire, a few girls, and a lot of drinks. As Tandri steps into the light, the girls make excuses to leave quickly. The men don’t know about Nightsong and her lovelies and are too dull to recognize their 'dates' fear, so they stay. From there it was easy. ‘Let go’ her mind whispered, freeing herself from her anxiety, embracing her goddess’s magic along with her mixed demonic and vampiric blood, entrancing them all, drawing their alpha in. Then as his hands pulled her up to him, her teeth found his neck. He was helpless, they all were. As she drank her eyes went up to the rafters, to the pitches of black, to her mistress watching over her. When she was full, she left them. “Was… was that.. okay?” the small one asked the shadows. She was not strong, she was not fast, even reborn, but she could do this… but was it even hunting in her mistress's eyes?
waking: Tadri wakes to thirst, a desire to feed stronger than anything she had ever felt in her entire dwarven life. A faith purr whispered in her head, her faith reaction to the very Lust of the need. Her mistress could feel her, knew the time to the exact second of when she would wake, so the coffin's lid was pulled free before she had any moments to panic. The beautiful dominating strength of Sariana on one side and the sensual grace of Floare on the other both looking down at her, caring for her, makes the dwarf nearly burst with a powerful urge to be with them forever. Her new uncontrolled vampiric blood mingled with the succubus blood, which she had spent decades attempting to control. The vampiric slipped through the other, coaxing it into life. Suddenly the curvy pink form in thin muslin became intensely entrancing. Every slope, every valley, the plumpness of her cheeks to the delicate parting of her lips to show her new wicked fangs. She wasn't being seductive, since this was still Tandri Tumblespark, but her entire being still screamed it. "Good... morning." she smiled, fighting through the hunger and her sudden captivating adoration aura, just to be civil to the two that she loved the most.
poor dead Tandri: Dwarven food is as heavy as the stones they covet and as rich as their greed. Tandri might avoid her people since they see her as an aberration, but their food still draws her soul in ways no other could. Typically food and its people come as a package deal. A regrettable fact, which has been keeping her from eating at the new and only dwarven restaurant in their city. From the smugly happy look in her best friend’s eyes that night, Tandri is certain the nation’s diplomate had a hand in the opening. Dwarves might be famously stubborn but Floare’s honeyed tongue knows no equal. As they approached Tandri tried her best to relax, worried about eating with her kin, but her mistress had made the night perfect by clearing any and all that might whisper and stare. Just one more reason, she is smitten to her core. Another comes with her easy surrender later that evening, being the Lady’s in every way, until the moment comes when her teeth claim the last she has to give. Her final breath. Her pink skin flushed and beaded with sweat heaves, not with panic, but with consuming passion. Each breath approaching the last, makes her body soar in delicious surrender. Tandri can feel the soft grazing of thorns in her soul as her goddess delights in the overwhelming feelings. Calistra approves, which is only marginally less important than her mistress's approval. The breath comes slowly, become shallower, and then stops. Tandri Rumblespark is dead.
fluff: "There are accounts to be watched, debts to be paid..." the dwarf says with some regret "... a day. My assistants can handle them, they just need to be directed to focus on the special cases." the ones Tandri assigns herself, both for the efficiency and the pleasure. Her voice then takes on a worried tone "Unless that is too long..."
fluff: The tightly coiled pink tail uncurls behind her "I want it" Tandri whispers so softly that no one without supernatural hearing has any hope of hearing. Asking, wanting, was always a trap. A trap life and others used to hurt her... but her mistress had everything from her already, as well as her trust... so asking, WANTING, was okay.
fluff: She wakes from her fitful doze, to be captured into impossibly strong arms for such a lithe frame. Tandri doesn't sniffen, even in that moment of lethargy and confusion of just awakening. She surrendered completely to Lady Nightsong, and even in this fuge, she continues to do so. At the question, at the insistence, her tail curls in on itself, the sensations her skin envokes dance across Sariana's flesh like a summer storm. "I..." She hates words, having to find the right ones to explain the burial inside her. "... don't wish to cause any concern or distress, Mistress." Even as she says this she knows it will not please. While that is true, Sariana commanded her to explain, so she must obey. "I... don't like being... different from you and Floare." Her words are a whisper lost in the dawn's light and against cold skin.
fluff: Tandri Rumblespark was different. Had been all her life. A dwarf as un-dwarfy as one could imagine. Tainted by the blood the succubi that flowed through her veins. Cursed to draw the lusts of others while curdling their stomachs in disgust at the same time. Not following the traditional dwarven gods, instead worshipping the elven 'whore' (her father's words). This was a topic that was often on her mind nowadays. Not about the difference the world sees in her, but the differences she now sees between herself and those she loves. Distracting her. Tandri sighed as she took off her glasses, placing them on her book. “We are short.” She rubbed the bridge of her pink nose, a hint of sharp irritation in her voice. “Madam Rumblespark, we've heard from Lady Nightsong's men already. Our production isn't meeting the needs of growth” the charming foreman said with a leer, which was quite unwise. “We need more farmlands, more workers, more-” “I am aware, Mr. Potter” She slipped her glasses back on and looked back in her big tome full of careful lines and numbers. Inventory, purchases... Purchases, like Curtains. Her finger stopped, remembering the shopping trip for their rooms. So Floare would be safe. Pain flared, as another difference spiking in her mind. Distracting her. Mr. Potter leaned in. “What ya looking at?” Too close, breathing in her particular euphoric scent. She didn't care at all to think about what she smelled like to Him. Her finger traced down away from curtains to rows and rows of numbers. “These are the crop yields and these are what was sold and distributed. We are short. Not short as in we didn't produce enough. We Are Short in what we should have.” His smile wavered but then slid back on. “You must have gotten them wrong, I know how numbers and such can tax a pretty little-” The dwarf turned toward him and said flatly “I do not get numbers wrong.” It is all she had to distract her from the pain of being different from them, throwing herself into her work. “Someone is cheating Lady Nightsong of what is hers.” He backed away “Hey listen now-” Wearily she stopped him “We already know you. The guards have searched your place and your profits seized.” He looked around like a cornered dog, looking for those guards. They were not here. Just a small enticing dwarf with a still tail, hands folded, and no weapon. His smile returned, uglier this time, as his hand reached for his knife. He could have such fun before he needed to run. Her eyes never left him as a single cluck came from her lips. The bulk that had been chewing on a bone on the warehouse floor rose to alarming heights. “Y-You said he was harmless!” he stammered as his bowels loosened. “He is... to me.” ---- After Beaky ate, Tandri saw to the promotion of the next foreman, then called for a wagon for her and her pet to return home. The dozen night guards Lady Nightsong insisted she traveled with riding beside. Tandri nestled into the warmth of the owlbear, trying her best to go to sleep on the bouncy road. Sleeping at home was the worst. Where she felt the most different from the two of them. All that time lost, where she couldn't be a part of their lives, was crushing her slowly. And it hurt so much she wondered how she could continue living.
Tandri the level eight class feat
ancestor feat
skill feat
sorcerer third level spell, fear (5 targets)
Memorized Divine Wraith as her other cleric level 4
Tandri frowns in even more annoyance, then sighs "Now we'll have to bury him, I suppose." the gnome being less sharp at the end and giving knowledge to Floare evened the scales in her mind, so she pulls off her cloak and starts to collect the bones. Tyr and Dante help with a hole, then it is done. The rite she speaks is pure Calistrian, having never asked him what his preference would be before he was gone. It ends with "Transgressions can be balanced, never forgiven, this soul has reached equilibrium toward your servant. May you grant his next life to be full of desires, both big and small."
Tandri nods as her small body shuffles back toward the entrance, returning to the skeletal remains of a gnome slumped against the southwestern wall. "Are you still in there?" she asks with a hint of annoyance. "The plant is dead, your caves cleaned."
Tandri expends her last healing spell on Deregar, happy he is not dead, though she realizes her job would be easier if he was at least Undead.
In a flash, Deregar is down, making Tandri gasp in worry, grit her teeth in irritation at this plant, and focus her spell casting on the summoner.
Tandri lets out a slight gasp of delight as Her little bony terrors cut into the plant so well. Mentally she encourages them to keep sating their desires, while weaving a harming spell for her mistress.
As her slight scratches are healed, Tandri looks with worry at Lady Nightsong and Floare, worried to her core that this has hurt them. It hadn't. So she turns her focus on the plant, looking for weaknesses, or at least understanding. While she does so, her skeletons, which had been knocked about, start chewing on the offspring of the last foe with equal eagerness.
Her goddess provides her mistress with a little guidance as well
Tandri tries to gauge damage on her mistress, which is always hard since she doesn't bleed or ever show signs of pain. But she believes, now is not the time to expend another mending of her palid flesh spell. Instead, she attempts to blast it with her goddess's ire while her skeletons continue their tearing.
Tandri maintains the bones that cry out for revenge while weaving a quick harming spell into her mistress.
Terror fills Tandri's mind as nausea fills her stomach. Only the fear of losing those she loves keeps her from running from the place. Instead, she calls to the remnants of the chimera's meals to claim vengeance. Claws, hands, and talons all swarm over the creature.
The sickeningly sweet smell of rot overcomes Tandri for a moment, making her want to stop breathing immediately. Unfortunately, she prays for her magic and her only use to her mistress is with her magic. So she breathes. "My stomach... vicious Lady Sting... please give Lady Nightsong the... strength to claim vengeance for my... stomach"
She'll then give in to the desire to retch, which is neither pretty nor effective.
Tandri translates "Kill the beast, save the kingdom." She summarizes at the end. She would ask the gnome about last rites to lay his body to rest, but her hackles being raised at his tone makes her want him to remain trapped one-armed in a cave for a few decades before returning to lay him to rest. So she doesn't ask. But she does thank him for the information.
Tandri colors and frowns equally at the dead gnome's tone, wanting to snap back that she didn't know he was dead when she asked, but deciding that would just make her look more foolish. She translates the rest of the gnome's words (if he was speaking gnomish), "Is there anything you can tell us about this Bloom that will help us defeat it?"
Tandri sees her mistress looks to her, so quickly moves forward to follow through the wall In gnomish, she greets him as she hurries after"May the moss grow up to be felt under the foot. Are you well?"
At her mistress's look, Tandri nods a yes he is okay for battle, but the nervous twitching of her tail tells Sari that there is another problem. With an arched brow, Tadri cracks open. "I used almost all my goddess's gifts for the day." she explains she has no healing spells and only a single powerful vampiric healing spell.
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