"The more the merrier," Venti says. He pulls out his Asmodean symbol that hangs around his neck. Just in case.
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"Very kind of you," Venti says with a bow to Siobhan's retreating form. That one is a coal ember if I've ever met one. ~~~~ "I could try to spy out what's happening with the inn while you wait behind that building," he says, indicating the building with a gesture. "As long as I don't make my way into the camp, I should be able to talk my way out of trouble." He grins reassuringly and winks. Let's not get into trouble.
"No. No. No need to risk anyone's life on account of my vanity," Venti says, raising his hands in an insincere gesture of submission. "The centaur is right. We should go now. Just nobody better complain about me smelling like fish. Maybe someone could throw a bucket of passingly warm water on me as we head out." He looks over to Priya. "Do we have enough for horses? Without trading in our more helpful trinkets?" Then he looks to Maire and makes a lopsided grin. "Or the rebellion has some we could borrow for the sake of urgency? I am sacrificing my vanity."
"The hobgoblin?" Venti asks at almost the same time as Rhia. "He doesn't seem like the sort to fail his mission," he comments and glances over his shoulder. Wouldn't it be dramatic for him to sneak up on us just now? No? Not so lucky? "I suppose the universe insists on balance, but I was really looking forward to a bath. I'm still finding river weeds behind my ears."
“Do we finally have a moment to catch our breaths?” Venti asks between beginning to arrange their stolen goods and wringing river water out of his cape. Don’t jinx it! He looks over the bottle they received from the liberated sailor. ”Oh. Porridge.” The disappointment is clear in his tone and expression.
"Well do--! Oh, no." Venti begins to cheer, but it is soon dampened by the remaining snake's vicious attack against the centaur. That beast is terrifying! Savage! He draws his rapier from its soggy sheath and moves to an advantageous position. There, he jabs at the river snake.
"What the **** are those!?" Venti shouts, still sopping wet from his swim to the shore, as a pair of serpentine beasts breach from the river. "Flying snakes!?" He pulls a knife out of his belt and flings it toward the closest of the two serpents. I liked that knife. "Von, would you mind burning those things out of the air? You'll do an excellent job," Venti encourages the stoic-seeming woman.
↺ Aid @ Von's Strike:
Venti snatches his thoroughly singed cloak from the deck and whirls it around his shoulders for theatrical effect. "Now, you! The flames are out of your path," he encourages. "Run to safety! And remember that the Hellbreakers showed you mercy!" Hells! That could have been more eloquent. My brain is broiled. He shoos the lingering crew toward the railing. "...at the risk of our own lives! Ah, better. The Hellbreakers showed you mercy at the risk of our own lives!"
Venti hisses as flames lick his hands. "****!" he curses, whipping his cloak back and sucking on the burned finger. "The work is faster together!" shouts back as cheerfully as he can make himself sound. Hope I yelled loud enough for the goblin to hear. He tosses his cloak down and stomps on a burning deck board. "And I'd rather--!" His words pause short, getting winded, and he focuses on the task at hand. Stomp! Stomp faster!
Goblins! Venti mentally laments as he whips his cloak down on a burning rail. "Ow!"
"En serio!" Venti exclaims as the ship rocks and bursts into flame. He whips off his cloak and immediately begins tamping down the nearest flames. We can not catch a break! "If you can help me put out these flames, do so! Otherwise, get those men off the ship. We didn't come here to kill them." Oh, look, I'm ordering people around. I don't want to be in charge. Who cares? Stop bloody moping! The ship is on fire!
****! That thing is big. Live free or die trying! Venti leaps and tries to roll past the suit of armor. He stands a step out of the captain's reach and snaps his whip at the man's cheek. "I'd give up. Your crew already did!" he quips. He then shouts over his shoulder, "Centaur! Knock that overly articulated anchor into the water where it belongs!" A heartbeat later, he adds, "Please!"
↺ All for One: Rhia's Shove:
Venti adjusts his wooden amulet depicting the sign of Asmodeus as he walks to the river's edge. Here goes nothing. I wish the centaur didn't look so nervous. "Vecino!" he shouts, "Could you do a favor for a loyal bounty hunter of her Infernal Majestrix? We've got some rebels to move, and they scared away our horses. I can compensate you with a share of the bounty." His cloak slips, revealing his assortment of blades. That's fine. That's fine. A bounty hunter should be well armed. He licks his lips and tries to resist the urge to wipe the sweat on his palms against his tunic. He also tries to resist the sinking feeling in his gut. Bloody Hells. Stop fidgeting, Artureo.
Ah. Well, future problem can wait on the future. "It occurs to me that we will only be able to pull off this ruse once," he adds a moment later. "Since we're letting them live--and I'm not objecting--word of a traitor, from their perspective, Hellknight, and a centaur no less, ambushing Thrune loyalists will spread like mold." He grins again and pulls a deck of cards from his pouch. "So we best make this one count spectacularly!"
Venti snaps his fingers. "Yes! We lure them closer." He rubs his chin while considering his fellow rebels. "Your armor creates a plausible deception. How good are you at convincing others of alternative truths? Never mind. You don't need to talk. The armor speaks for itself." They'll never buy the goblin or the halfling. Maybe just the centaur and me. He coughs to clear his throat. "So, ah, Rhia and I could 'capture' you rebels and wave down our mark to ask for assistance transporting you. We could bind your hands with false knots, then we attack once we're aboard. Can always offer them a share of the bounty, if they need convincing." He grins with perhaps a bit too much confidence. "What do you think?"
Venti appraises the river and then his companions. The crew would have to have some random proclivities for that idea to work. He looks at the centaur. Surely weighs at least a ton with all that metal. "If we grappled a ship, so you think you could hold it still?"
"I suppose I should go find myself a bullwhip," Venti muses. "Maybe that will be imposing enough to scare."
"I think it was a trick," Venti supposes to Poog. "And that means there's a leak."
Venti wipes the blood from his blade on the clothes of the defeated loyalist. Such fanaticism. "If they hadn't been so bent on killing us, we could interrogate them," he says. "What did they need you as bait for?" Yes. Why are you still alive if they were all in for killing us? My paranoia is getting to me. They were probably just idiots. "It's difficult to believe a greater intelligence guided them simply because this whole ambush lacked sense or finesse." He slides his rapier back into its sheath and buckles it onto his belt. "Thanks for the trinkets. Those could be handy."
"Oh, bother," Venti says as he tries to slip past one of the loyalists. Come now. It's not like you didn't expect this as a likely outcome, Artureo.
He drives his blade at the man's armpit. You knew you'd need to kill people. It's Cheliax.
"Come on, ghost! You've got this!" he shouts encouragement at Early. At least they're not farmers.
"Látom," Venti says in response to Priya's theological observation. He directs his next comment to Alfeo, "What hit you? Our assailants seem to have... not desired to finish the job." Any curious sort could have wandered and tripped that deadfall. Was it just malicious spite? "Maybe they just wanted to hurt anyone connected with the company and didn't care who or even if they were successful. Strange."
"What the ****!" he shouts when the halfling drops senseless to the floor. He pales.
"Bloody Hells!" Venti shouts as the crates fall. At least it wasn't me!
Venti stares through the doorway as though lost in thought as they organize their advance. All things holey! ****! I should have said averse to all things holey! That would have been clever. Alas, moment lost.
"Well, since you're unlikely to become more dead, no offense, and I'm rather averse to arrow holes," Venti says and gestures to the inner doorway with his blade. "I'll take you up on your chivalry."
Venti looks at the doorframe and then at Rhia. Then he looks back at the doorframe for a palpable moment. What would be easier? Convincing our people that the centaur is an ally after they attack her, or convincing our people that we're allies when the centaur walks in behind us? "No point in being subtle now," he concedes and takes his rapier from his belt.
"Not yet," Venti replies. "Not out here. They could simply be making the path easier to lure 'rescuers' into complacency."
Venti beckons the others with a wave.
"If someone was setting up an ambush to catch more if us, they're only doing a middling job of it," Venti notes as the see the door ajar. "Give me just a moment before we all charge in there." He moves to the side of the warehouse. A middling ambush is still an ambush. He approaches the door as quietly as he can, sneaking along the wall until he can peak through the door.
"But I was looking forward to resting on my laurels," Venti complains insincerely before taking a long drink from his cup and listening. "Something untoward seems a given," he comments, then pauses a moment. "Unless Gertraud is known for slacking? And hopefully in all these years, that problem with infernal bugs in the warehouse district is over and done with."
"Oh, I think their intent to eat us was clear enough!" Venti interjects with an amused twinkle in his eye. She's almost too boring to be a mole. "Well, eat you. The one that survived longest was rather focused."
"Oh? Pastries?" Venti says with a grin. "Yes, please. And anything to drink?"
"Any chance you mean undertakers?" he asks drolly.
Venti snorts as he stifles a laugh. Hellknight with a sense of humor? She might be a unicorn under that helm. "I can't imagine the fight wasn't noticed by the ferry workers," he comments with a glance toward the goblin and his smoking guns. "If not everyone back in Breachill."
"Hiw can you tell under all that armor?" Venti wonders aloud as he wipes the greasy slime from the animate bat corpse from his blade. "I suppose all that blood is a clue."
Venti repositions himself on the opposite side of the bat from the centaur. Do these monsters even have vital organs? Here goes nothing! "Ha! Take that!" He lines up a decisive thrust while simultaneously kicking a spare bit of rope from the ferry yard at the thing's legs.
Are you bloody fooling me!? Ventri stares at what he would describe as zombie bats flapping toward them. The surprise wears off after Von's flaming assault, and the creatures land amidst them. "Rhea, this is just what you were made for, as I understand it!" he shouts as he takes his sword from his belt. "They're no match for you!" He draws the blade free of the scabbard and raises the latter in a defensive position. I'm much too close to these corpses.
Venti looks from the bomb to the goblin's hand and then to Priya. He looks back to Poog and then Priya again. He raises a questioning eyebrow. I can hope that I won't regret traveling with a goblin.
"I know they're just people trying to get by like everyone else," Venti says with a sigh, returning to the wagon after the men have departed. I joined the cause to stick it in Her Imperial Magestrix's and the church's collective eyes, not take out my revenge on simple village folk. How long before I don't have a choice? Once Ehtran returns, he thanks the Eagle Knight for their generosity, "That was thoughtful of you. Pass that talisman to the centaur." I can't believe I just said that. "She'll make best use of it, I expect."
Venti adjusts his holy symbol of Asmodeus as he turns to face the men verbally accosting them. "Ah. It is good to see someone willing to stand by the laws. I am certain that you are each loyal subjects of Her Infernal Majestrix, and her heart is surely warmed to know that such folk exist in Isger. We are here on business and resupplying, providing income to your... town," he says and looks around at the little farming village. "We have not seen many so loyal as you on our way south, and it has been a difficult road with the possibility of bandits and rebels hiding behind every tree and in every shadow. Brave folk like you will keep us safe, though, I'm certain!" He takes a slow step toward the man who spoke. "You know, you could help us greatly. I'm certain you know the land around here and the, ah, character of the people. How best could we avoid trouble with the rebels in this area once we continue our journey?"
Venti listens to the gossip about the decree. Typical of Cheliax. They don't even need a decree, but I suppose the added bounty motivates the otherwise apathetic. He pulls out a wooden amulet, a disc with a red pentagram. "I suppose this can't hurt too much to wear out in the open. I kept it for a similar reason when I escaped the clergy," he explains. He slips it back under his collar. "But before that, I'll need to restock my rations for the road."
"That sounds like a fine place," Venti begins to say. Then he chokes at the end of his sentence as Poog continues. What? What is the goblin talking about?
Venti glances over the band of misfits. Not the goblin, that's for sure. "Priya! I nominate you as impromptu quartermaster for this mission," he says, trying to smile charmingly. "Now. Where do we want to spend the night?" Please, don't say we should camp outside. He had camped all the way here from Saringallow, and he was looking forward to a bed and a roof.
Venti distracts himself while tales continue around the room by shuffling a Harrow deck. That self-pitiable story ought to dissuade any more curiosity. But ****, I forgot about the hellknight. He spends the next three minutes straight stringing one fanciful curse after another inside his head while shuffling with increasing fervor. It's fine. It's fine. She'd be focused on the insurgency, if she's a mole. It's fine. Just stop taking your bloody eye off the hellknight. He instinctively glances toward the Order of the Pike livery under the tattered blue cloth.
With at least one ale in his belly, Venti stands and makes his way to the center of the floor. Mug still in hand, he clears his throat and then gestures dramatically. "Imagine, if you would, a boy no taller than Priya over there. A boy with light in his eyes and a skip in his step. A carefree child despite living, albeit briefly, in the shadow of Saringallow." "Alas, all good things must come to an end," casting his head down forlornly, he continues. "That boy was sold off to the church. You know what church I'm talking about. There, he endured things that would make your dragon cringe. However, that is not what this story is about." "No!" he shakes his head and sloshes his mug back and forth. "Have any of you ever tried to read the monograph? Maybe you know them better as the disciplines. Well, it was required reading there where that poor boy went. You've heard about what happens to folk who study them for a week straight, right? Imagine what it does to a soul who studies them for months. The high priests don't let you skip a day of chores because you were up most of the night screaming, no, they do not." His voice takes on a cold, bitter edge for a moment. "And for years. The things an acolyte does to other people? You learn to twist the truth so hard that they actually ask you for it. For money, prestige, power, and revenge! I've seen people split their souls seven different ways to get a reservation on opening night of the newest restaurant in Egorian, never knowing what eternity as a drudge is really like. We give them fancy names like lemures. Sounds better than drudge. The sheep might get a clue if we used their common names." "Anyhow," his tone is suddenly and paradoxically light and cheery. "You do learn the truth in those nightmares. That boy saw exactly where he was heading if he didn't advocate for himself. And by advocating for himself, I mean grabbing whatever personal effects he could to survive the streets of Egorian and sneaking out in the night." He flutters his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You're probably all bored with my voice by now, so I'll take my leave and let someone else take the stage." He makes an exaggerated bow and turns with a flourish that spills some of his ale from his mug. He looks over his shoulder and adds, "That boy is just exstatic for the chance to poke Cheliax and the church right in the eye."
The small crowd disperses with a final cheer for Ethran, leaving plenty of space at the soldier’s table. Ethran smiles as you approach, looking a little relieved. “Everyone’s in high spirits, as they’re right to be. Would you like a drink?” "Gods and goddesses, yes!" Venti says as he takes a chair and lounges in it. "Nearly impossible--without shouting like an orc--to get the barkeep's attention." He gives Rhia a questioning look. "We get them safely to the leaders in Saringallow. Then they help the cause." He gestures with both hands, pointing to himself and then Ethran as he speaks with exaggerated enunciation. How many centaur hellknights can there be? Surely, the Nails and Rack didn't have a spare to infiltrate us with... unless they didn't need a spare. Eyes on the hellknight, Artureo, eyes on the hellknight.
”Ah! Ha! Ha. Sharp ears,” Venti mumbles as he drops a card. ”The Eagle Night is the one who needs guarding. All the way to Saringallow.”
He makes a comedically exaggerated wince when Erlo mentions the linked of minds. "No, thank you, none of that for me," he says while performing a couple of creative shuffles. And I would pity the soul cursed with my mind in their skull. "But whatever works for you two." He flicks each card he deals with fairly good precision onto the counter.
He shakes the gnome's hand. "Nothing to apologize for," he says with a smile. "That's not the most disconcerting thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm Venti d'Cambria. And I'll take most any blessing someone's willing to grace me with." An Old Mage deck appears in his hand. "Cards while we wait on the bartender?" He proffers the cards to the phantom with a questioning arch of his brow. "What soldier doesn't play cards?" Gods and goddesses, I really need a drink and to get out of this crowd. Won't that bartender hurry up? he thinks to himself while chatting with the short folk and a ghost.
Venti jumps and cannot help but reach for the hilt of his dagger when the phantom manifests at the bar. ”Bloody irregular, indeed,” he mutters under his breath. |