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Vespaja chafes under the crusaders’ attentions. Their praises sound false even before Sir Ilivan’s corpse’s recovery dampens Nerosyan’s mood. At the award ceremony, Vespaja’s eyes are hollow and distant, and she barely registers the general’s medal. She is the first to leave the presence of the grave marker. He died a hero, sure, but what kind of place was this where the brave died so wretchedly? And to be called a hero equally, when Vespaja preferred - or perhaps just resembled - the cynical ex-smuggler to the martyred knight, continued to gnaw at her. --- Weeks later, she arrives in The Shackles. In a dim bar, drinking something from a dirty cup, she sits across from some scoundrel sailor with an eye patch. The sailor picks something out of her teeth and asks in a low voice, ”So, why do ye want to join the crew? Piracy’s a dangerous field, y’know.” Vespaja grins and replies, ”Unfinished business.” ---
Vespaja takes one final look back toward Ilivan, but closes her eyes as turns away as the demons pull him down. Her gut feels like a stone even as she goes from one crusader to the next with her dagger, cutting through their bonds as quickly as she can. Once the crusaders are free and the injured mounted on horses, she flees with the others. More than once she's tempted to turn back and see Ilivan’s fate, but manages to keep her eyes forward. This place is too much. Brave soldiers mowed down while us scoundrels run for it. She says nothing, keeping focused on the horizon and trying to swallow the hard lump in her throat.
Vespaja rushes forward, not quite reaching Braxus but getting close enough. She narrows her eyes, shooting a piercing look of divine judgment at the wretched creatures. The Calistrian birthmark on her neck starts to glow, and as she opens her mouth to speak her tongue is alight with unholy fire. ”Vile demons! Today we shall taste vengeance ripped from the Abyss. Your deaths will be sweet!” ---
Squinting at the dust cloud on the horizon, Vespaja turns to Sir Ilivan and nods. "Aye, Cap'n. There'll be vengeance for you." As Sir Ilivan rides to his fate, and before the demons turn from their distraction, Vespaja drinks one of the potions the commander gave her before taking off after Braxus, staying wide with her whip in hand. ---
Vespaja backs off and lets Braxus and the others try to comfort the shaken Sir Ilivan. As much as the knight felt he was weak to fall to the demons, he was certainly strong enough to murder his allies. Unable to get the thought out of her head, she says nothing and pulls her robes closer around her, trying to cover her skin and face with the silk. She pets her horse's neck to soothe it after all the agitation and prepares to ride on following the demons' tracks as furtively as she can. ---
Vespaja relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief when Braxus seems to return to normal. Vespaja eyes the wineskin with temptation, but shakes her head. Not time for that yet, I think. She approaches the fallen knight and squats down next to him. ”Hoy, Cap’n…” she says, in a quieter and more soothing tone. ”There's not a soul around but us. Safe as safe can be. You gotta snap out of this, matey, try to calm down…”
Vespaja instinctively reaches for her whip, letting it uncurl as her companions start to scream. She turns to Bo and Org, bewildered. "Have they lost their damn minds? Is this some demon trickery?" Seeing Sir Ilivan scream while curled up on the ground, Flyn starting to flee, and Braxus preparing for violence, Vespaja meets the Ulfen's gaze as she singles him out as the biggest threat. "Avast, mate. We've been quiet as the grave until you lot started squawking all this nonsense. What does this have to do with Cayden? If I was angry at you, you'd know by now, honest. Why don't we just all calm down, get back on our horses, and find those crusaders who got themselves stolen away..." She narrows her eyes and tightens her grip on her weapon, waiting to see if Braxus comes to his senses - or if she'll have to stop him from making a mistake. Vespaja keeps her eyes on Braxus, staying on her horse and saying calmly to Bo and Org, "Can one of you please check on Sir Ilivan? And someone should probably go after that elf before he rides into some other demon's trap..."
Supplies: There's enough holy water for all of us to take 2. Let's start with that and redistribute as needed. For the CMW potions, why don't Flyn and I take one each? Flyn is the lowest level so it's nice insurance, and I'm more of a melee support build at this level so I can be on emergency feed-someone-unconscious-a-potion duty. For the potions of shield of faith, Org and I have the lowest AC, so maybe we should take them? And the last one can go to whoever. As for weaponry: can they supply us with cold iron ammunition?
Content with her evaluation of the wardstone, Vespaja thanks the commander as she leaves. After hearing Ilivan’s objection to the rescue, her eyes flick to the rest of her Pathfinder allies. The poor fool doesn't have any idea what kind of stubbornness the Society attracts. I suppose he's learning now… She snaps out of her thoughts when Flyn whispers to her, quickly regaining her composure and replying, ”If you insist.” Once the others have had their say, Vespaja takes a deep breath before saying hers. ”Frankly, I agree with Sir Ilivan.” Before anyone can admonish her, she adds, ”Our task was to find out what happened to this fort, and we've found out. We have no further responsibility as far as the Queen is concerned, and as soon as we finish the job we can go back to the Lodge and prepare for more ‘soft grave-robbing’ - a cute phrase, that.” Vespaja turns from her fellow Pathfinders to Sir Ilivan. Her lips draw into a wicked, goading grin. ”You've sussed out a nice little gig here with the whole knight, thing, haven't you? I knew you were still a smuggler under that armor and tabard.” ---
Vespaja draws a scroll from her bag and casts it while approaching the wardstone. Her eyes glow with purpose as she reads the stone's magical aura, reaching out a hand and letting her fingers trail across the base of it. In her focus, she briefly tries to recall hearing of any brimorak demons. Not coming up with anything immediately, she shakes her head clear of those thoughts and concentrates on trying to work out how the wardstone functions. These Avistani are like Braxus in their magic - crude but certainly imposing... ---
Delicately rubbing one temple with a fingertip, Vespaja looks past the Commander at the huge wardstone. "You say it was buzzing like that before, Cap'n Wardroxen?" she asks, at once impressed by the size and obvious magic of the thing and looking like she's developing a headache. "We will of course do our best to launch a valiant and knightly rescue - but it would be best if these wards functioned as they were supposed to in the first place, no? May I take a look at it? I'm curious as to how it functions, and I'd be happy to share whatever insight I have if I can figure out why it didn't keep those demons at bay." ---
Her arrow fired, she spots Braxus running down the hill towards the demons. Unable to suppress a smirk she thinks, I certainly can't say he hasn't got enthusiasm. I better go make sure he doesn't get killed. Vespaja darts down the hill as well, holding the bow in one hand and drawing her new morningstar in the other, ending up sloshing in the shallow water behind the huge Ulfen. ---
Vespaja shrugs at Sir Ilivan as if to say, Do-gooders, right? She then steps up to the hill edge and deftly takes a couple of the offered cold-iron-headed arrows from Bo. "If you fools are going to start this, we may as well try to end it just as quickly." She stands with them and adds an arrow to their volley. ---
Vespaja shades her eyes with her hand as she looks down the hill towards the sad and brutal scene. ”Hmm. See the way that one's flesh sags? Telltale sign of vermlek - demons that wear a dead person's body and move around the corpse like a puppet. They have the typical demon qualities: flesh that yields to cold iron or the right kind of dogooder magic; immune to electricity and poison, and spells don't always work right on ‘em.” After rattling off the information about the demons, she sighs and puts her fists on her hips, mouth pursed to one side as she evaluates the situation. ”To speak plain, I can see the wisdom in leaving these poor bastards to their fate - I like a good fight now and then, but going toe to toe with a couple of demons over nothing sounds like trouble.” Vespaja furrows her brow, unsure. Addressing Sir Ilivan, she adds, ”On the other hand, it's not nothing to save a few lives - they might have some information or at least coin to reward us with. Not to mention, Sir Ilivan, you seem more callous than I would have thought - your anger is obvious. Are you thinking tactics, or are you thinking of something else?” ---
Vespaja gives Sir Ilivan a wink and says, "Aye, captain. Lots of walking and no funny business." She smirks, and it's difficult to say whether that indicates she was being sarcastic or not. She takes the spiky-headed morningstar from her weapon belt and makes a little flourish with it. "I fought a demon in Jalmeray not too long ago. The thing's flesh didn't bleed too easy. I'm sure you shiny knights have some better weaponry for dealing with them, no?" she asks, examining the plain iron weapon in her hand with a mix of boredom and disappointment. "Other than that, I am ready. It's too bad there's no waterway, but I've got sturdy boots."
"Aye, I've heard of these wardstones," Vespaja pipes up after Sir Ilivan speaks. "Guess the demons got the better of 'em of late, what with their surgin' into Nerosyan. Honestly, I'm surprised the ones that failed lasted as long as they did! Just a big bunch of standing rocks, magic or not, doesn't seem like it should do much against a horde o' demons. But I suppose you Avistani have your ways up north here, no?" With a mischievous smirk, she sidles up to the half-elven knight and speaks loud enough for everyone to hear, "I heard that you used to be a freshwater smuggler on Lake Encarthan. No shame in that," she says, her grin widening. "I spent some time down in The Shackles afore I joined up with the Pathfinders myself, so I'm sure we'll get along like birds of a feather." Backing off from Sir Ilivan, she takes a position with her fellow Pathfinders at a more respectful distance. "You know this place well enough, do you not? Are you expecting any particular information as we scout along the way? Any particular demonic activity we should be on the lookout for? Any more info on the attack on the Fort?" ----
Vespaja’s ire spent for now, the priestess allows a smirk to return to her face. ”Glad we got that all worked out. I'm sure you'll taste demonic blood soon enough, Braxus.” she assures the man, nodding to Bo as well to acknowledge his apology. She turns to the woman playing with the wolf, hands still on her hips. ”Hoy there, you got a name? And how about that dog of yours?” she asks.
Vespaja's smirk warps into a snarl as she snaps at Bo, "I speak of fire and blood and violence in driving back demons. You'd do well to remember that my prayers are for vengeance as much as for anything else, cur." She takes a swig of her newly refilled wine and points an accusatory finger at Braxus as well. "You don't start with that, neither." At this point her snarl has relaxed into just a sneer, and she stops pointing to place her hands on her hips. "I'm here to fight. If you want to sate your flesh, you can go to any Calistrian temple and pay for that service," she says matter-of-factly. After another sip of wine, she grins. "Just make sure you bring enough gold, lubber."
Vespaja grins. She stands and walks over to Braxus, placing a hand on a huge arm while gesturing with her other as if presenting a prized head of livestock. "A lubber," she starts, addressing Org and the rest of the table while patting the Ulfen man on his beefy arm, "is a lout. An oaf. A big galoot." She turns up and grins at Braxus. "Just some good-natured teasing, eh?" She swings around to the other side of Braxus and taps a finger on his uncorked wine jug, then holds up her now-empty wine cup. "I've brought plenty of adventure, but we can't do so while thirsty, can we?"
"Hoy," greets a Vudrani human woman with henna tattoos on her hands, wearing yellow and black silks under a mithral breastplate. Sitting with her feet propped up with ankles crossed on one of the spare chairs, she leans toward the center of the table and selects a slice of cheese. With her other hand, she lifts a cup of wine to her mouth, and as she leans her head back a birthmark on her neck is clearly visible in the shape of Calistria's triple ring of daggers. After draining the wine cup, she bites into the cheese and asks with her mouth full, "Never been this far north before - how about you lot of land lubbers?"
Hi all! Name: Vespaja
Vespaja is an inquisitor of Calistria (mostly focused on the vengeance aspect of her) and a reposition specialist. Edit: Oh! One more thing: I'll use my Lingering Resonance boon. It'll come into effect if I fail a save against a spell or spell like ability.
"I don't suppose it's just 'Fox' is it?" Vespaja asks doubtfully. She shuffles the scroll fragments around in her hands, trying to puzzle out the riddle. "Was it in fragments like this before? Or did it used to be whole? Look at this," the inquisitor offers, arranging the fragments. "They can be arranged such that the first letter of each stanza spells out 'CAUGHT.' And I think this sword one has something to do with swordfish, maybe? Been too long since I had decent seafood. Hmm..."
EF:
That totally works for me. I rolled terribly anyway, so it doesn't really matter. :P "Names live on forever, eh? Sounds nice..." Vespaja muses. "Gather the scroll fragments together, and get that translation book. I have an idea," orders the inquisitor, seemingly lost in thought and not paying attention to whether the others follow her instructions or not.
Vespaja shouts out, "Grab the fox! Get the scroll fragments first!" while moving closer and drawing her whip in hand. She concentrates, sending a prayer to Calistria to lend her judgment!
She then attempts to snatch the soggy scrap of paper from the Kitsune's belt.
"Well, I don't know your name. But I know how to find out," Vespaja taunts back. She eyes the scroll fragment slipped in the impostor's belt that Nicklod points out, smirking. "I'd like to see that scrap of paper on your belt. Just for a minute or so. If not, I'm sure my friends here can just take it from you. So let's just make this easy, eh?" Vespaja threatens, looking especially at the strong-armed Pathfinders around her.
Vespaja smirks, and meaningfully raises an eyebrow when Fahd drops the word "shapechanger." "Yes, Master Shaine, that does seem like the way of some of our members--not exactly competent all the time. In fact, now that you mention it, we did see Virml. He was captured by some fey in the understacks (and maybe don't mention his teeth when you see him). He's been there since the archives flooded. "So let's drop the tricks. The grodair flooded our library to flush you out, Fox. We were offered a deal that if we re-capture you, the grodair will get rid of the water. Buuuuut, I'm open to hearing other propositions. What can you offer us? Can you get rid of this water?"
Vespaja suppresses a chuckle at the inky Rhoswen, covering her grin with a henna-covered hand. "Rhoswen, that's not a great look for you. Since we've already slogged through these flooded stacks, do you mind a little more water?" she offers. Vespaja does her best to keep a straight face in front of "Kreighton Shane" as she answers his question: "Well, we found that some creature--a large fish thing with tentacles--has flooded the archives. We convinced it to stop for now. We were actually looking for Virml, to see if he knew anything else about the mess he caused. Have you seen him?"
Vespaja follows behind Rhoswen and Fahd with a knitted brow, biting her lip nervously. "I think we should try to talk this out. We'll tell the fox we know the truth, but all we really have to do is get the water out of the archives. If the fox knows how, I say we let them help." Patting the whip by her side for reassurance, she adds, "But I'll be ready if the fox wants to fight, don't you worry, I'm ready."
Catching Insidion's meaningful nod once the book is again covered--unless it was more of his strange twitching--she nods back, still wincing at the lingering sound of the strange screaming darkness ringing in her ears. "That kitsune had some fragments when we saw them in disguise. Let's head back up to the main level, and try to catch them off guard." With that, Vespaja started to slosh back to the main stairwell.
"I think we should find more of that scroll so our tentacle-having fish friend can put this fox back--or at least so it's an option. Shall we explore the rest of the Understacks? Could be more buried treasure!" Vespaja jokes, as she heads back to the hallway. Looking at the nearest door to the southwest, she gestures toward it and asks, "Shall we? Virml, you'd better stay here. I know it's a bit damp, but we wouldn't want you to get confused with your imposter."
"You all remember what the grodair said, right? That the fox was her prisoner? I think the fake fox-Virml still had some of that scroll, which is what we need to put him back where he came from. I think we should find the rest of the scroll first, so we know what we're up against," Vespaja suggests. "Virml!" she suddenly addresses the caged man with a sharp, scolding tone. "You triggered this mess by disturbing that scroll. Did you at least read any of it? Do you know why the fox was imprisoned? Maybe we can go ask the grodair, or either one of Owl or Albatross. And maybe we should send a message to the other Pathfinders..."
"Heya, Virml!" Vespaja greets the now gap-toothed clerk. "Let's get you out of there, hey? Somebody find a key, or bust open this cage." Content to leave the searching and door busting to the others, Vespaja casts Guidance on herself and examines the magical bird floating in Virml's cage.
"Looks like that stuffed bird's actually a feather token, the kind that turns into a messenger bird."
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