I'm still here. :)
And no worries, the best laid plans of mice and men and all that.
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'Salright. Real life happens.
It's all good. :)
Tot nods as she takes the food, too embarrassed to speak. She needs a place to stay for the night, but all she can squeak out is a thank you before she scurries off to the same tree she'd enjoyed Jargie's chowder under. The salmon proves just as delicious. The complex blend of spices has the young tiefling woman busy trying to sort out all of the flavors as she eats. At first she's not sure what to make of the mead, though it goes well with the salmon. After the first few sips, though, she's found that she loves the sweetness of it far more than she has ever liked the bitterness of the beers she'd been allowed to drink back when she was in training. She finishes the salmon and the mead and lays down in the shade. For the first time since she ran away, she feels full, and even though she still doesn't have a job secured she feels strange, buoyant, light, happy? Does she feel happy or even hopeful? The woman, Ameiko she'd heard as she on her way back to the tree, hadn't rejected her and even seems willing to help her. Then again, she might be a little drunk after both the stout and the mead. maybe that is what is making her feel so light. She pushes the thought aside as unimportant and smiles as a familiar red and black butterfly settles on her knee. "Thank you, my little friend. I don't think I would have had the courage to do that if not for you," she tells it softly. The butterfly spreads its wings once as if nodding, then takes to the air. Tot lays down and closes her eyes as the dappled sunlight keeps her warm in the shade. Maybe she could learn more about the gods these people worship. Maybe then she'll learn why they are so much kinder to her than her own family. The thought of two kind people giving her food and encouragement, even if they didn't realize it, brings a smile to her face again as she drifts off into a nap.
Tot's face turns red as Jargie turns down the money before telling her that all of the food's free. "Th-thank you, sir. I-I will," she mutters before taking the bowl and the flagon with her as she scurries off. She does try and give the kind man a smile before she goes. She hasn't realized how hungry she is until she sits down and starts eating. She savors the soup, wishing she had some fresh bread to go with it, but it's the stout that really fills her up. With a full belly and the afternoon sun shining down through the boughs of the tree she'd settled under, she feels her eyelids growing heavy. A nap sounds nice and her tail uncoils from around her leg as she starts to give into the temptation. But what is she going to do about tomorrow? The question brings back the tension she'd shed as she ate and enjoyed the her spot under the tree. She curls up and hugs her knees with both arms and tail as she thinks about what her next step needs to be. She doesn't want to be a caravan guard the rest of her life, but her only other skill besides fighting is cooking. Logically, that means that the four serving lunch are the best people to ask for work. The man serving the lobster chowder is kind, but she isn't sure she can face him again. She thinks about asking the one serving peppercorn venison, but one look at him has her thinking that he probably won't let her finish before turning her down. The one she's heard people calling Cracktooth looks intimidating, but everyone he talks to seems to like him. The last person, a young woman with exotic features, Tien if her lessons on foreign peoples haven't led her astray, seems the most approachable, but she's also pretty. Pretty and charismatic people, in her experience, tended to be some of the hardest people to deal with. In some ways, being a soldier is easier than what she is dealing with now. She never had to worry about making decisions like this a year ago. House Thrune had wanted weapons, not people who could think for themselves outside of combat. If she is going to have a roof over her head and food in her belly tomorrow, she needs to figure out what to do today. Tot takes in a deep breath and stands up. She gathers her gear and turns to face the tents where the food had been served with their much reduced lines. Before she can take a step, however, she freezes. Standing in the shade of the tree she sat under, she silently panics. How is she going to ask any of them? Why would anyone want to hire on a scruffy, dirty, tiefling girl? Before she can decide that this was a terrible idea and slink off somewhere, a butterfly with brilliant red and black wings flutters in front of her. It circles her, drawing her attention with it as she falls for its mesmerizing dance. After she's turned a circle trying to keep the butterfly in sight, she sees the butterfly fly off a little ways before coming back. Her focus entirely on the butterfly, Tot follows it as it flies away from her again. She marvels at how it dances on the wind as it leads her through the crowd and towards the tents. She doesn't notice, however, until the butterfly zips to one side suddenly, and Tot's eyes meet the young Tien woman's that had been serving the curried salmon. Her eyes widen as her mouth moves without any sound coming out. She tries to find the butterfly that she'd been following, but it is gone. Her hands wring the straps of her pack as her mind scrambles for something, anything to say and not make this more awkward. "I-I-I-I c-c-can cook!" she screams in her head as she blurts out the first coherent sentence she can think of. "I-I-I m-mean I'm l-looking for a job. I-I-I can c-cook or clean or... or..." Her words trail off as she looks away. She's certain that after a first impression like that, looking like she does, the woman-- Amay-something-- is going to turn down her offer. What do I do now?! Tot's tail coils and writhes around like a serpent on a bed of coals as the blush returns with a vengeance.
It doesn't take someone skilled at reading people to notice that Tot's not at all comfortable with being dragged along, but she can't find the courage to speak up for herself either. She's swept up in the cavalcade of caravaneers, guards, and children without really ever knowing what was going on, save that the townsfolk appear to be eyeing her with the same suspicion, real or imagined, that she'd grown used to over the years. The speeches don't get much of a reaction from her, being an outsider to the town. At least they don't until she hears Father Zantus speak and the release of the butterflies. She is in awe as they take wing. Something about the story or the scene of thousands of colorful wings spiraling up in a beautiful, chaotic display touches her soul and she doesn't even realize she's crying until someone asks if she's alright. She scrubs away the tears and assures them that she is before noticing everyone lining up for lunch. She dithers a bit, not just because the food does smell delicious, but because she wanted to ask them if they'd be willing to hire her. After a few minutes when most of the townspeople are in line, she picks the one for Jargie's lobster chowder. She tries not to think about how she looks, the fresh smudges of dirt and grass she hadn't been able to scrub off her face, the clothes that were just one step above rags, nor that she looks like a vagrant mercenary. She isn't successful, and by the time she's at the front of the line, she pulls out her coin purse to pay for the meal and resigns herself to sleeping wherever she can find a nook that's out of the weather to curl up in. "H-H-How m-much," she asks as she keeps her gaze on her fingers as they fumble with the ties.
Tot nods after Kemras gives out his father's advice, though she wonders why he'd say something that didn't make sense to him unless he was trying to figure out its meaning. The conversation about gods, empyreal lords, and more has the poor girl's head reelin, and she starts to wonder if this is really better than what she'd been dealing with before. The only faith she even knew a little about that the others follow or were discussing was Sarenrae's, and her first brush with the Dawnflower's followers had not ended well. What do I do now? There's so much I don't know, even after a year. Where do I start?
Miraculously, Tot seems to have avoided skinning up her face and hands, having landed in some grass instead of hardpacked earth and rock. "'M fine," she mumbles, belatedly turning red-faced in embarrassment as what just happened starts to sink in. I just hope Amaryllis doesn't talk to me for a bit, she thinks to herself as she pulls her cloak's hood as low as she can to try hiding her blush.
Tot starts to pick herself up off the ground when she sees that both Audra and Cirandiu have offered her a hand. She starts to reach out for them, but pulls her hand back and stands on her own. "Sorry," she mutters to no one in particular. "Just tripped."
When Amaryllis says she's a Sarenrite, Tot's mind goes completely blank for a moment. She's not seeing Sandpoint, but a camp years and miles way where followers of the Dawnflower were talking about their faith and their hopes before being mercilessly slaughtered. When she comes back to reality from her memories, Tot sees the ground rushing up to meet her after tripping over her own feet. "Ooooow," she groans after the hard landing on her face.
Tot listens with one ear while she waits for Zorlen's answer. Hearing about Arshea causes her to shrink into her cloak, however, partly to hide a slight blush and mostly to hide the pained expression that crosses her face as she wonders how many of the gods she'd never been told about valued physical beauty. That was something she is certain no one would ever accuse her of possessing, unlike Audra and Amaryllis.
Tot's lips quirk at Kemras' joking suggestions that they could bathe in the river. She'd done that many times, and while she could certainly make do, she'd much rather have a hot bath and at least a clean outfit if not an entirely new one. She turns to Zorlen and Audra and bows her head to them. "Thank you for your kind offers," she says. "I will pay you back if I take you up on them." she raises her head and looks at Zorlen more directly. "Do you mind leading the way," she asks since he seems to be the most knowledgeable about Sandpoint's accommodations.
"That might be troublesome," Tot says. Her coin purse is thin, and she's not sure how she's going to earn more coin, not without a bath and a new outfit.
"It's a pity the mirror can't tell us the whole truth. Especially for us." He says as he steps besides Tot. "You can never be sure how the people will react to what they see. Unfortunately, superstitions run deep in the minds of some of the people here. Probably not unlike other places you've been to. I just hope it doesn't prevent you from enjoying the festival." he gives the woman a small smile. "I don't know for how long you'll be staying, but if you ever want someone to talk to who you can be sure won't be bothered by who you are, feel free to come see me." Tot nearly jumps out of her skin when Zorlen speaks to her. She looks up at him and for a moment, there's fear in her eyes. It's gone as quickly as it appears as she recognizes the wizard. "S-sorry. Just startled," she says. "D-do you know of some place cheap I could get a bath and wash my clothes," she asks.
I looked through the others and I agree that one is the best one.
Nope, no horns. She does have a tail and some long, sharp canines, as well as pointed ears, but the rest of her looks human, if not for the coloration, red eyes, white hair, ash-gray skin.Picture?? Certainly has the vibe.
Nope, no horns. She does have a tail and some long, sharp canines, as well as pointed ears, but the rest of her looks human, if not for the coloration, red eyes, white hair, ash-gray skin.
Whatever shred of hope Tot had of finding a job here in Sandpoint is gone when she sees herself in the mirror. Her white hair hadn't been cut in over a year, and despite her best attempts to tame it, it half-covered her face. Her clothes are worn and travel stained, but they had not be anything near fine when she'd pulled them off the men she'd killed when they'd attacked her in Korvosa. The armor made her look and feel like some girl playing pretend with scraps she'd found. The mishmash of her clothing and armor only made the better made equipment that had so far survived her journey look like she had stolen it, which she guesses, is true after a fashion. She ducks her head and pulls the hood of her cloak low in an effort to hide her red eyes and hope that she wouldn't be stopped after entering town. She had hoped to find a place to rest after traveling constantly for more than a year, but after seeing herself in the mirror for the first time in a long, long time, she wonders if she'll even be allowed in. No town wanted some tiefling vagabond wandering about and potentially causing trouble.
Sent. Hopefully the second attempt gets to you. (Didn't doublecheck the email and got a bounce back when the server couldn't find a pazm0deus@outlook.com email.)
Tot doesn't know how applicable Audra's reasoning here is, so she just nods, hoping to avoid causing any issues between her and the druid. It's hardly like her life is a rich tapestry. Up until the night she overheard her brother planning to sacrifice her to some devil, she had been destined to be just one more blade for House Thrune, and since then, it'd just been a blur, mostly. Could she let someone get that close to her? She doubted it. But, she has to admit, at least the sentiment is nice.
Ouch. I hope they paid for lodging at least.
Tot doesn't reply to Audra, but it isn't hard for the druid to see that she's given the tiefling some food for thought. Can I let someone get even that close to me? She's quiet as she ponders the question and its implications.
Audra or Perception DC 25: "Why do you want to talk to me," Tot asks.
Oh, right. Sorry, I'd forgotten that you'd be out until tomorrow. >_<
Audra or Perception DC 25:
"I don't think any amount of time will be enough," she whispers back, though it's unclear if she's talking about for her to trust others or for others to trust her. As Tot walks along, half-listening to the conversation around her, she wonders if she'll always be on the run. Amaryllis is wrong. If anyone learns who she actually is, she's certain that they'll never trust her. Even if they don't, how is a tiefling supposed to gain trust? She supposes she can ask Zorlen, it seems others like and trust him, but she can't bring herself to ask him how he does it. She falls silent as the journey continues, wondering if this is her life now. Will she walk until she collapses somewhere? Will she ever find a place to call her home? And what is home, anyway? It's not like I belong anywhere.
Audra:
Tot's definitely hiding some things from how carefully she's choosing her words. The whispered message definitely doesn't help her nerves, and she jumps when she hears the words. Audra or Perception DC 25:
"That requires trust, doesn't it," Tot asks, showing a familiarity with the spell the belies her shabby dress. "Someone once told me that trust is for fools. In my experience, he was right." Tot jumps a little bit about the time the talk of gathering giants and monsters starts up. She tries to listen to the conversation, but finds too many threads going on at once, a shortcoming her siblings had always twitted her on. Still, she hears the others advising her and apparently showing concern for her. Audra or Perception DC 25: "Is it normal for people around here to show concern for strangers?"
Pretty much agree with everything you've said about OOC stuff. I have made posts asking about something game related OOC, but that's pretty rare.
"T-tot. Just Tot," the young woman answers when asked her name. Before she can say anything else, Amaryllis tries to soothe her irritation and introduces herself. Realizing that she'd let on more than she really wanted to, she shrinks down under the bard's gaze. "S-sorry," she apologizes, "bad memories." She looks down at her feet as she rubs her arm. She'd hoped to learn more, but it seems that her past is coloring her tone more than she'd like. "Do you follow a god, too," she asks, hoping to move past the moment.
I doubt any god is watching over me, except maybe to laugh, Tot thinks as Cirandiu finishes speaking. "Are you a priest," she asks him. Though she tries to keep it from her tone, there's a edge of something bitter when she says priest.
The others can see Tot blush before she looks away. I-is she making fun of me, the scruffy-looking fighter wonders as Amaryllis giggles. She figures that she should be grateful that so many seemingly knowledgeable people are willing to answer her questions, but she's finding it difficult as paranoia starts to creep in.
Despite the brevity of its telling, Tot hangs onto Zorlen's words as he relays the tale. There were no legends or stories around the holy days of the Asmodean Church, at least none were ever told to her. Emotions and curiosity were needless flaws in a weapon after all. A weapon need only obey. Legends and stories are things that are new to the young tiefling, and she has always been a curious girl. "Why a swallowtail butterfly," she asks after a little while, the question weighing on her as she went over the legend over and over again in her head.
Freedom, Tot remembers being told once, is a word used by anarchists, hedonists, and other criminals to shirk responsibility and justify their debauchery. Mercy was a weakness touted as a virtue by many of those same people. Perfection was the one true standard, she'd been taught. Then about a year ago, the same people who had taught her that planned to put a dagger through her heart. In the year since, she has found it a struggle to sort through the truths and the lies. She realizes that she doesn't know enough about anything and wonders if maybe these people know what she wants to learn. Tot fidgets as more people gather around. Even before she'd been ambushed in Korvosa, she wasn't fond of large groups, but now she has to actively fight the impulse to run from them, especially if she is the focus of their attention. She shifts her position to be closer to the trees if she needs to run and focuses on the questions she has rather than the growing urge to find some place to hide. "Wh-what's the legend," she asks Zorlen, speaking more in the past couple of minutes than she has in the past two weeks.
Unaware of Kemras' scrutiny, Tot continues along beside him. She listens to the Varisian talking with Amaryllis and Firavel with half an ear, at least until Kemras started talking about the Mother of Monsters. She stops looking around and turns her head towards the trio, though she still doesn't look up at them. Raised in Cheliax and trained in Nidal, she never heard much about faiths other than that of Asmodeus and Zon Kuthon, and Desna was one of those gods that had been labeled as dangerous and subversive, along with any other god that was not allied with Hell, she realizes. Like so many things that don't pertain to fighting or survival in the wilderness, Tot knows almost nothing about any of what the others are talking about. She doesn't know who the Dawnflower is, except that they are related to the sun. Desna is equally as mysterious, if not more so. The Mother of Monsters sounds pretty self-explanatory, and she wonders if this one was responsible for creating goblins. Small they may be, but they are monsters all the same. When there's a lull in the conversation, curiosity gets the better of Tot. "W-what kind of gods are the Dawnflower and Desna," she asks the others. Her voice is soft and musical, though she lacks the confidence to sing well. She still doesn't look any of them in the face, but she's turned enough towards them that they can see her face and her blood-red eyes pointed at the ground, as well as her snarled white hair covering some of her face.
The ashen-pale young woman that had joined the caravan in Magnimar has already packed up her gear by the time the caravan master has announced that it was time to move. Her blood-red eyes and the dark-scaled tail nervously coiling around her hips and legs tell of her fiendish blood. Her scruffy, ill-fitting clothing and oddly well maintained weapons, belts, and boots tell a tale of their own, and one that wise Varisians want nothing to do with. So she keeps her distance, feeling the others' unease with her presence. After a while, she's walking by Kemras, letting him get a good look at her. She's short, barely taller than a dwarf, and slender, looking like she should barely be able to drag the heavy pack on her back much less carry it and keep up with the caravan's pace, nor does she look like she should know how to use the greatsword balanced on her shoulder by the arm drapped over the hilt. Her hair under the hood of her cloak must be a fright if the strands going wherever they please are any indication. She doesn't look Kemras' way, instead looking at her feet, the road just ahead of her, or off into the trees.
I can manage 1/day. One of the things I think I should mention is that I want to Tot to eventually change to a good alignment. I know for some GMs this is a big deal. How would like to handle that?
Gameplay thread's not connected. I do have one question, Tot came in with a caravan, how long has she been in town?
Trust me when I say this, GM Spazmodeus did not have it easy. There's a lot of good submissions to pick from. That said, I'm looking forward to playing with you all. :)
Going with a tiefling fighter. Tot's a high-strung, somewhat paranoid deserter that wound up in Westcrown after drifting for a bit. Character Sheet:
Titania Olivia Thrune Tiefling fighter 1 (Pathfinder RPG Bestiary 264) N Medium outsider (native) Init +3; Senses darkvision 120 ft., low-light vision; Perception +6 -------------------- Defense -------------------- AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 14 (+4 armor, +3 Dex, +1 dodge) hp 12 (1d10+2) Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +1 Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5 -------------------- Offense -------------------- Speed 30 ft. Melee gladius +4 (1d6+3/19-20) or . . longsword +4 (1d8+3/19-20) Ranged shortbow +4 (1d6/×3) Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1st; concentration -2) . . 1/day—darkness -------------------- Statistics -------------------- Str 16, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 12, Cha 5 Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 18 Feats Dodge, Fiend Sight[ARG] Traits conspiracy hunter, seeker Skills Acrobatics +2, Bluff -1, Climb +5, Craft (mapmaking) +7, Craft (painting) +7, Perception +6, Stealth +8, Survival +5, Swim +5; Racial Modifiers +2 Bluff, +2 Stealth Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Elven, Infernal SQ prehensile tail[ARG] Other Gear chain shirt, heavy wooden shield, arrows (41), gladius[UC], longsword, shortbow, backpack, bedroll, belt pouch, blanket[APG], flint and steel, hemp rope (50 ft.), soap, twine (50')[APG] (4), 3 sp -------------------- Special Abilities -------------------- Darkvision (120 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white only). Energy Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Cold attacks. Energy Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Electricity attacks. Energy Resistance, Fire (5) You have the specified Energy Resistance against Fire attacks. Low-Light Vision See twice as far as a human in dim light, distinguishing color and detail. Prehensile Tail Your tail can retrieve small objects on your person as a swift action. Background:
A noble house such as Thrune has many secrets. Some are openly known, and only spoken of in whispers if one is wise. Others are deep and dark, known only to a few outside of the most trusted members of the family. Then there are those that are never admitted to, never spoken of, and always feared. Titania Olivia Thrune is one of the daughters of a secretive cadet branch of the house, Thrune's veiled left hand holding a vicious dagger. When something must be done and no survivors left, it is they that the Imperatrix sends in. Almost from birth, the members of this side of the family are trained to be weapons, tools for the diabolic tyrant. Instead of courtly manners and the classical education expected of Chelish high society, they learn to fight and that is all they are expected to know. Their one destiny, their one purpose is to be the loyal dogs of the empire's royal house. But even Hell's best cannot be perfect in their cruelty. While Titania learned to fight, she never lost some sliver of innocence and empathy. Perhaps it was her reserved nature, her lack of confidence that kept her quiet, or some miracle worked by the gods that are tirelessly pulling at the edges of Cheliax's control to undo the devil-worshipping empire that let her grow up in under the eaves of House Thrune without turning into an unthinking killer as the higher branch of the family wanted. It was a raid on a small caravan passing through the Chelish highlands that shattered Titania's world. Something always rang hollow and false to her in the teachings she was exposed to everyday, but she was not prepared for the brutality she would witness that night, the night she and her fellows were to be blooded and take their first steps into the ranks of Thrune's hidden weapons. Titania realized they were no threat to the Empire of Cheliax as soon as she saw them. They were singing happily as they went about making camp and preparing their supper. She wanted to say as much, but fear of the price of disobedience stayed her tongue. She waited, hoping, silently pleading, that the attack would be called off. The signal came, and the others she was with descended on the camp. She watched in horror for a few moments before slipping off into the night, tears running down her face and a small voice in her mind whimpering as what she saw played over and over again in her mind. Tot, as she went by after that night, drifted from town to town for the next six months. She took whatever work she could and hunted game whenever she couldn't earn enough for her meals. She wound up in Westcrown. Rumors of dark, shadowy monsters stalking the folk of the city and killing or making off with them flew on the wind. Tot wondered if it was perhaps some of her realitives, but Westcrown was seen as a backwater with no value beyond being the one time capital of the empire. A dying ember of a dead faith and nothing more. But if not her erstwhile family, then who? Curiosity, she is learning, is the curse of intelligence.
Appearance:
Tot's tail, hair, eyes, and ears give away her inhuman heritage. Thankfully, she bears no marks of slavery or criminality, so is relatively free to do as she wishes. Her white, feathery hair is worn in a braid. Her eyes are a deep red, which stands out against her hair and pale skin. She is on the short side, but far stronger than she looks. Personality: In a word, Tot is shy. She speaks softly and lacks the confidence to speak up in most situations. She prefers to keep to herself, but an insatiable curiosity has come out as the horrors of the night she deserted start to fade. While she lacks confidence in most things, she knows her own physical strengths and prowess, and can almost come off as reckless at times with her actions. She does like to draw, having picked up the hobby after learning how to make maps as part of her training. She left all of her tools behind, however.
GM Euan:
I probably should have mentioned this earlier. My posting typically happens after 6:30 CST (UTC-6, or Central Time) on weekdays. I can normally post throughout the day on weekends. RP - Kizzy:
Tot seems more a frightened child than a competent fighter as she looks at Kizzy while she guesses with far too much accuracy why Tot is so skittish. "P-Please don't tell anyone," she begs. Too late, you were too careless. "I-I... I don't want them to hate me," she explains, her vision spangling as she looks down to the toes of her boots.
RP - Lunch (Vin and everybody else :P):
Tot, missing the implications in Vindur's statement gives him a small smile as they enjoy the soup. It really is quite good, and the bread soaks in the broth wonderfully. She would have to remember Emerik and see if he'd teach her some of his skills with food. RP - Goblins!:
Tot drives the butt of her quarterstaff into the ground and pauses long enough to string her bow as she observes where the goblins are.
"Do you see their leader," she asks Vindur, not able to make out much at this distance.
RP - Pop goes the Goblins:
Tot winces as the goblins fall for the trap. She had no more love for the vile, vicious vermin than the next person, but it was still hard to see even a goblin burn to death. She removes the arrow she'd knocked from her bow and replaces it in the quiver as she turns away and keeps moving. You've done worse. Much worse. She shivers as she relives a memory in horribly vivid detail. She could still hear the screams of those she had killed that night on particularly bad nights. She has a feeling that tonight would be one of those nights.
Vindur, Seamus, Kizzy, and Meg: Thanks to all of you especially for helping me get to know Tot better. It's been a blast getting to know you and your characters, and I would love to play with all of you in a game. :)
RP - Lunch (The Lunch Rush):
Tot brightens some at hearing Vin backpedal and ask for two spoons. Perhaps it was silly of her, but she had taken to heart what one grizzled veteran had told her and the rest of the trainees while guiding them on a march. "Good food is something sacred. It's meant to be shared with your comrades in arms whenever you have the opportunity," he had told them, and perhaps Vin and Seamus weren't her comrades in arms, but they were in this caravan together and they had come to talk to her. That was enough, wasn't it? They'll hate you all the more when they find out.
For those wondering...:
Meg's player and I have been chatting in PMs and she's helped me figure out a couple of things about Tot, one of those is that as young as she is, she's the poster child for the maxim (Maxim #7 to be precise) If the food's good enough the grunts will stop complaining about the incoming fire. There's a couple of other things, but I'd rather y'all find out those when you stumble on them. I have to let her have some secrets after all. ;)
@GM Euan: Just a heads up, I'll be adding some more information about Tot's personality and background to her profile. Should be there in about an hour.
RP - Lunch (Around Emerik's soup pot): Tot looks to Seamus after he turns down the soup before even knowing there's enough. She looks hurt but doesn't say anything and turns back to hear Emerik's answer, but pauses on Vin as he says he'd rather Tot have full bowl than to have some himself. "B-but it's supposed to be shared," she mumbles, almost like a child who doesn't understand what's going on as their world is turned upside-down. Wasteful child. Stupid brat! You should have known. Glutton, always thinking with your stomach.
@Kizzy: No bigger. While I'm a little bummed about not getting to play it out, I'm more than happy that we got some fun out of it. Besides, the souring wasn't really anyone's fault. Well, except maybe one person, but he wasn't really talking about that anyway. Sparring Wrap Up:
Tot helps Kizzy to stand and accepts the handshake. She gives Kizzy a grin and a shrug. "When you're the smallest one, it pays to have a good bag of tricks," she says. "I'd be in real trouble if this were a formal duel." After her bout with Kizzy, she and Rosella face each other and wait for Rastaf's signal.
RP - Morning (Kizzy):
Tot nearly trips over her own feet as Kizzy asks her if she was trained as a soldier. Tot's fair skin turns a sickly gray as the color drains from her skin and her fingers and toes grow cold. "A-a-a-a little," she replies. Her voice quivering as she looks away. Told you. Too dumb to survive on your own. She'll hate you. They'll all hate you.
RP - Lunch (Vindur):
He would hate you if he knew what you have buried. Tot takes another bite of the apple Vindur had given her as she waits for the blush in her cheeks to fade some. She isn't used to the attention, to seeing someone else's vulnerabilities and part of her feels like a voyeur for seeing this part of him. I don't know what to say, she thinks to herself. Do you ever? "I-I guess, if you need someone to talk to, I-I could listen, i-if you want," she says slowly. He won't want to when he learns what you are. She goes to take another bite of apple, but stops and smells the air. "Do you smell that," she asks before taking in a deeper whiff. "It smells delicious! C'mon we should see what it is at least," She says as she gets to her feet and gathers her things.
RP - Lunch (Vindur and Seamus):
Tot pauses for a moment as Seamus approaches and introduces himself. A brief look of panic crosses her face when she learns others have been talking about her, but it fades away almost as quickly as if comes. "I-I'm fine, I guess," she answers, not sure what this would lead to, but the aroma of the delicious soup reminds her that she was in the middle of something. "There's someone over there," she says as she points in the direction she thinks the enticing aroma is coming from, "that smells delicious. Do you want to join us?" You're too afraid of crowds, so you are inviting more people? You really are stupid. Why bother with being friends, they'll hate you more for it. Tot looks unsure for a moment but she takes in a deep breath and seems to settle something in her mind. Good food should be shared.
RP - Lunch (Emerik, Seamus, and Vindur, actually everyone gathering around Emerik's pot): Tot's pace picks up as she spies Emerik and his soup pot. Just a couple of moments later, she's slowing to approach at more of a normal walk than the trot she'd taken up. "Um, H-hello," she says before asking Emerik, "i-is there enough for three more?"
RP - Lunch (Vindur): Tot blushes as Vindur says he wants to be with her. She sits there for a long moment, trying to think of what to say. It started as soft, delicate chuckle as one things struck her. Ducks. He, one of the best poets I've ever heard, herded ducks. She tries to hold back, she really does. She is certain that it's no laughing matter to him, but the absurdity of such a skilled wordsmith being a duckherd is just too funny to her. She shakes as she tries to stifle the giggles, but soon she's leaning on Vindur for support as caves and lets her laughter chime like clear crystal bells. "I-I'm sorry, Vindur," she apologizes through her snickering as she regains some control from her laughing fit, [b]"I know that it is no laughing matter for you, but it just..." unable to find the words, she smiles sheepishly and shrugs helplessly. After a few more moments and another bite of apple, she looks to where her swords are laying beside her and sighs. If he has something to be ashamed of, what does that make you? Deserter, oath-breaker, and worse! "I... I can understand that," she says, trying not to reveal too much. "I can understand why you... left." "D-do you miss your grandfather," she asks, wondering how she would answer if asked the same question about anyone in her family.
Non-RP, Vindur and Meg:
I think Meg has your number. :D I like Meg, and not just because she shares a nickname with my sister. That last zinger had some sizzle to it and I may have cackled a bit after reading it. RP - Lunch (Vindur): Tot looks up and sees Vindur coming before he calls out to her. She begins to hurriedly pack up the journal and associated accouterments, blotting the page she was working on to dry the ink and keep it from smearing. She looks up, managing to put everything away just as Vindur starts to speak. "I-it's fine. It's fine. You're not bothering me at all," she replies before taking the proffered food and thanking him for it with a small smile.
Spoiler:
It's probably a good thing that Vindur has never seen Tot play any card games. She is far too easy to read. She's relieved, but it's more about the journal she was hiding than the offer of food and conversation. She looks to the food in her hands, and her expression falls. He wouldn't feel sorry for you if he knew! He saw how embarrassed you were. Always letting your feelings show. Pathetic. "I... I'm sorry about last night," Tot says. "I just... I'm not used to," she frowns at the apple as the words just don't come. Too dumb to even put a sentence together. For a long moment, she looks at the apple before speaking again. "I'm sorry," she says again, quietly before taking a bite of the apple.
Re: Sparring:
I think at this point there's not much sense in trying to keep up with it, so we can just leave the outcomes vague. Tot tends to alternate between sneaky and bold in how she comes at someone in a fight. My plan for the 2v2 match was to get behind Meg and trip her while offering a flanking opportunity to Rosella. Her fight with Kizzy is a little more obvious. She was going for a pin out. I think I will be grabbing some feats to help with this as we level, assuming she gets picked of course. TL;DR: Don't worry about the sparring matches, it was supposed to be just for fun.
RP - Magnus:
Seeing the spry man move about the dance floor, Tot quirks an eyebrow as she looks at him questioningly. She isn't ready to accept this man is over a hundred years old, not with the way he moves. If he wants to keep secrets, though, that was fine with her. She isn't willing to pry. She shakes her head and opens her mouth to ask what the town is like, but by then he's danced his way over to the other side of the room.
RP - Lunch Break (Open invitation for anyone to jump in): Tot mostly keeps to herself the next morning. After finding herself the center of attention several times she felt drained. At least the doubts and fears that had been her constant companions almost all of yesterday were quiet. Still, questions pulled at her, the most pressing being why not one but two people offered their help. Did they want something out of her? Did they pity her? Even in Magnimar, altruism was rarely something she ran across. Most of the mercenaries an bounty hunters she had been with were cutthroat and spared no effort on niceties that didn't earn them coin, and some of them not even then. Back home, a show of kindness generally meant that someone wanted something from you, or were trying to get you to let your guard down. There were always hidden motives, and rarely were they helpful to you, but here? She sighs. She doesn't understand this land nor the people living here. Why would someone show kindness to her? She is nobody to them, and if they find out who she is and why she is here, then she would only be a bounty to them. A big fat bounty that they could retire off of. She looks out over the caravan from the spot she'd settled down in to eat. No one was paying attention to her, and the scene was too nice to pass up. She pulls out her journal, ink, and quills and starts sketching the scene of the caravan enjoying lunch while the beasts of burden rest and nibble the grass around them.
Personality Types: Sounds like Seamus is using the same site I use: 16Personalities. I've consistently gotten INFP-T, which they call the Mediator. It's pretty strong too, with most scores at least 75% the last time I took it. I guess it makes sense given that my mom always told me that I am the one that always tries to keep the peace. I recently took it, but answering as a character I was applying to play as in another game. It was interesting seeing how they differ from me and how they are like me. I'm kinda curious as to what Tot is, but I don't think I'm up for doing that at the moment.
Magnus:
RP - Lunch before Sandpoint: Tot spends most of the morning keeping to herself. After all the attention yesterday, she feels a little worn. The excitement growing around her has her curious about just how many people will be coming into Sandpoint. She knows the town is on the smaller side, but to hear some speak, the festival must host thousands. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she slowly slides up to someone she thought she heard say they leaved in Sandpoint. "G-good day, sir. A-are you from Sandpoint," she asks Magnus.
I’m very interested in this recruitment, although I just now discovered it. I suspect that not having been around for the RP at all will likely hurt my chances but I’m going to try to put together an application over the (rest of the) weekend, if I can muster enough time. If nothing else, you could always just come up with enough to get started with playing the character and hop on in while you figure the rest out. :) The more the merrier I say! @Gheri: Ah, I see. Sometimes it's difficult to convey things using just text and, well, in my head it sounded like I was making people uncomfortable just setting something like this up. @Meg: A thousand apologies. I guess I didn't do well in explaining things, did I? Sparring Matches and Continuity:
There are two different sparring events going on. First was the 2v2 match and then the ad hoc tournament bouts. I'm keeping track of them concurrently to save time, but I can see how that might be confusing. Let's see if this helps.
--Arrival at the inn --2v2 sparring match. This is the one I still need an action from both Meg and Kizzy and an initiative roll from Meg before we can proceed to the next round. --Impromptu Tournament. This is the one where you're sparring 1v1 with Rosella. Meg's currently tied with Rosella and it's the top of the round between them. Meg won initiative. I'm waiting on Kizzy to roll initiative and post her action so we can continue on with that match as well. --Supper and a show, courtesy of poet extraordinaire and man of a thousand faces, Vindur. --Getting ready for bed and sleeping. --Continuing on to Sandpoint and stopping for lunch. (Where we're at right now with GM Euan's narration.) Hopefully that helps. As far as the matches go. I went to random.org and randomized the list of characters that were wanting to spar and used that to come up with the initial bracket. It was a spur of the moment thing that popped into my head when I saw Rastaf saying "Let the Tournament begin!" :)
Again, apologies for the confusion.
Tournament Status:
Rosella and Tot: 0 Kizzy and Meg: 0
Kizzy and Meg haven't posted their actions for the 2v2 bout, or I've missed them. Meg still needs to roll initiative for the 2v2 bout. Kizzy hasn't posted her action nor rolled initiative in her bout with just Tot, or again, I've missed it. Recap:
Rosella and Tot started off by probing defenses and positioning themselves for a better tactical advantage.
RP - Dinner:
Tot blinks as Vindur starts turning into various members of the caravan, but she is in no way prepared for when he starts naming her a hero while taking her form. As much as he might wish for it to be something to boost her confidence, Tot shrinks into her chair and looks like she wants to disappear. The innocent you will defend? Ohohoho! If he only knew! What would he think of the "music" you've made? Don't you remember the sound the boy's finger's made? He wouldn't be so quick to call you friend if he know how much like those monsters you are.
Vindur Sense Motive:
The poor girl is thoroughly embarrassed.
Again, I am sorry that I made anyone uncomfortable.
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