What's the timeline for this, can I ask? How soon should we make sure to have our characters ready by, if there's a deadline in mind? I'm having a bit of a crowded week. X3
Search Posts
I'm strongly thinking about entering with this character (leveled back down--it's a long story, but I joined with her just around the time the party had hit level 2), but also trying to be careful. I don't want to overcommit, especially with how distanced I am from PF1 these days, but I am very interested in this.
"Let them run," Wisp calls sharply to Signy, "Or else don't you strike to kill, girl! We have enough on our hands without another body." She steps away from the mitflit running past her, not trying to take a swing.
Wisp follows after Brental and Vodnykel, hissing in anger, her rosebramble staff striking the ground louder and louder with every step she takes. She fixes the fey with a baleful glare, then points up to the great Sycamore, howling an ugly curse - foul oaths of Druidic she has sworn never to teach to an outsider - and imbuing the tree with a voice at her command. Druidic:
"Your tree hates you, you f@@*ing s@@!heads! Leave this forest now, or you will never leave alive!" As the roots of the tree rise and roil around the struggling mitflits, eight snarling voices rise from the tree itself, voices inhuman and monstrous, shrieking screams of wordless hatred and despair in Elven, Sylvan, Goblin, Gnome, Common, and the screechings of badgers, rats and dying rabbits.
Wisp stumbles back, hissing in pain, and nods in agreement with Brental's assessment. Not much fancying isolating herself with the mite slicing at her heels, she limps back to stand beside Brental. "Brother," she murmurs, almost unheard above the din of battle, "I think you'd best seek your coin back on that book o' yours!" As she backs away, she casts about, looking across the battlefield and studying it with a wary eye. She seems as interested in studying the capabilities of her colleagues as the weaknesses of her enemies, eyeing with Lina with particular curiosity and concern.
That's fair, Lina! I honestly haven't seen much of her (I only skimmed while catching up) and neither has Wisp. I originally meant for Wisp to be a bit more taciturn, but as I realized that Meneas had that niche covered very well, it sort of morphed into a "scared of dead air" quirk.
Because Signy got me thinking about it, I went and wrote Wisps's more up-to-date evaluations of the four current partymembers. Signy Birkirsdottir
Brental Fenson
Meneas the Cowl
Lina
So, I think interparty conflict is fun when everyone's on-board and players are communicating well with one another. That said, if the players don't know or respect each other's limits, it's sometimes more fun for one player than the other. I feel like "letting my character speak for themselves" tends to play better in in-person games, or games where the players are well familiar. To be fully honest, I don't know anyone here very well. We only communicate via text, which is not a good venue for subtlety. That's why I've tried to be very up-front about my intentions and my boundaries. I'm a fan of the check-in idea. I generally find conflict more compelling when it's built on a solid foundation to start with. If conflict starts being forced before the PCs even like each other, the whole party dynamic becomes strained - because why would someone travel with someone they only fight with? Why would they care to help them, much less feel emotionally moved by them being placed in danger? It can work, if the players communicate a lot OOC about intentions and are mindful of going overboard. Conflict in a nuanced relationship is interesting and adds dimensions. If the only interactions of any weight are conflict, it comes one-note and boring. The whole thing starts to feel forced. I understand that a party with too little conflict gets dull and stagnant, but a party with too much gets exhausting. The party ends up feeling like a bunch of coworkers who don't talk outside the workplace. Wisp is Neutral Evil, and an ex-bandit. She already has plentiful sources of conflict. My priority in the early game is to make sure that if/when her loyalty is tested, or her secrets are revealed, there's been enough actual groundwork laid that it actually means something.
Oh, yeah, there's a reason why Wisp didn't take her skull mask off, in the vain hopes that I would be mistaken for, perhaps, an unusually kawaii halfling. :P
Also, while I think that Wisp's "we will make sure the kobolds pay the price" promise might draw some interesting questions in-game, I do want to clarify for OOC purposes that I was by no means planning to force a betrayal of Signy's lizardy buddies. Wisp had a plan. Was it a good plan? One out of five centipedes approve!
Wisp gasps and stumbles back as the dart punctures her torso, a shallow but painful strike. The gnome glances wearily back at the others, and draws in a deep, shuddering breath. "Signy, dear," she says, with a long-suffering bitterness gnawing hungrily at every word, "be the kobolds' idol, by any chance, a very small, jagged arrow?" If Signy Throws The Acid Flask: Wisp looks up as the flask flies over her head. "Right. Fiddlefiends."
Honestly, I think you're literally the first person I've talked to who's even heard of it. It's a lot of fun, as is its sequel. The relationship between the two main characters is really nuanced and compelling (for YA), and they play as great foils to one another. I don't read a lot anymore except for work, but it's probably my favorite novel, for whatever it's worth. A lot of the plan banked on the mites having at least one sagacious little monster among them that spoke Sylvan or Common. Failing that, the best bet was to roll well. Failing that... well, Wisp already committed by putting herself in the front lines, she might as well go as ham as possible and hope for the best. :P Wisp has a pretty good reason here to roll badly, at least. As good as her speech might or might not be, her delivery could very well be dreadful. Sometimes she genuinely just doesn't have enough fuel left in the tank.
This is what I get for not putting points in my Perform (interpretive dance) skill...
Has anybody here read any Frances Hardinge? I've always really enjoyed the scene of Fly By Night where a mellifluous conman talks the leader of a gang of highwaymen into fixing a noblewoman's cart and returning their purses by promising to write a ballad about "Captain" Blythe's generosity and chivalry. It's a very funny, hammy scene that comes back later in the story in a more serious way when it turns out that the ballad turned Blythe into a totally unwilling folk hero and basically forced a redemption arc for a guy who was, up til that point, basically your standard professional bandit. I'm pretty sure that conman rolled higher than a 4 on his Diplomacy check, mind. Meanwhile, in another room, Wisp is rambling to the GM about how weeell technically, all living creatures are 'animals', and these mitflits live in 'burrows', so really
Wisp avoids eye contact and taps the staff repeatedly against the ground. Either she doesn't have a response or she doesn't know how to voice it.
Wisp gives several small nods and limps towards the tree, uncharacteristically bold, it seems, as she follows to stand beside Lina. She is tense, her eyes narrowed, her hand tightening on the staff as she works to ease her breathing and settle her racing heartbeat, working a prayer for the world to walk with her a ways and guide her words to come . It's not just the argument that has her rattled. It's not even the whole exhausting day, even though every altercation seems to bleed her a little drier of the words she so urgently needs right now. To say that Wisp worships fey would be a grotesque simplification, one that might even offend her. You don't worship fey. You respect them. You avoid them. You deal with them. You trick them. Rarely, when forced to, you scare them, or even fight them, or even slay them. But to kill a fey - even the most wretched of their number - is to cut down an ageless oak. It is a terrible price for peace. Even so, her fingers curl tightly around the staff when the mitflits begin to spill from their foul warren. She listens carefully, struggling to make sense of things with what Elven she was taught, and prepares to speak.
She's still rattled. She's not in the right state of mind for this, and she knows it. But Wisp is also certain that if she doesn't act to stop the bloodbath, no one will. So the gnome takes a deep breath, pounds her staff against the earth - sparks fly from the tip and scorch the grass beneath just before being quashed by the strike of the staff itself - and speaks with as steady a voice as she can manage. "Your Ladyship! Please, listen to we ragged wretches, Great and Noble Lady of the Earth, Fair Baroness of the Many-Legged! Legends of your glory, your cunning and wisdom have spanned from the Kingdom of Brevoy to the Empire of Cheliax, and it is truly an honor to behold She For Whom Ten Thousand Knees Bend In Servitude!" Wisp carefully avoids trying to use the mitflit woman's actual name, nor implying that the woman is the one in charge of the whole colony, because she has no idea of the former and no certainty of the latter. Besides, she rather has a feeling the mitflit is not accustomed to being addressed with the sorts of titles she is using, and she is rather hoping it will catch the mitflit's fancy. "We are sent to treat with you and your kin, My Lady, and to bring our greetings from your neighbors in Brevoy." She clears her throat and curtsy low, but not too low. It is the respectful prostration of a visiting dignitary. She shoots the others an imploring look to at least provide some gesture in kind, though she doesn't expect much at this point. "However, My Lady, we also come bringing sore tidings. Wretches spread ill and unfair rumors of the noble mitflits, deceive the worthy of your nature and intentions." Her expression goes grave. "I beg your forgiveness, My Lady, for to even speak these uglinesses - these rank lies being told about your noble kind - agh, it disgusts me to even repeat them, but you are a Noble Lady and deserve to know." She pauses to make sure the mitflits are curious before continuing, beating the staff in another brief flicker of flame if she needs to recover their attention. "The mitflits be a noble people indeed, My Lady, and the people know this. Aye! Tales are told far and wide of the glory of the Old Sycamore." She gestures dramatically to the great tree. "But foul cowards have been spreading ruthless lies. Lies that you are..." Her voice lowers to a dreaded hush. "... less-than-pleasant neighbors." She presses on, afraid that if she stops talking she will lose her words again. "Of course, this is absurd. Why, the kobolds never wished to fight with you! They are unworthy crawling lizards who know that their place is in their disgusting, wretched holes of cold stone, not your glorious, comfortable caverns of cool earth, and they have always respected your wisdom, your mastery of the Sycamore. Indeed, all have always known that the Noble Mitflits are far too important, far too dignified, and far too mighty to even bother with the silly, unimportant nonsense beyond your Great and Mighty Tree. Does the dragon leave its lair to battle with mice? Does the queen leave her throne room to bicker with street urchins? "The kobolds never, ever thought ill of you," she says, raising a finger, "until they were deceived by a force of malice into believing that you were nothing but unseemly neighbors - thieves, even. But you and I," she smiles sweetly, "we know that the mitflits are a wise and ancient and extremely important people, and have never been anything but neighborly. We know that you would have happily returned the silly little idol of the kobolds had they but asked politely. The noble mitflits are far too powerful to concern themselves with such matters." "Of course, a price will have to be paid for their actions, mistaken though they might have been. But why sully the mitflits' hands with the worthless blood of some lizards? To do so would only add credence to the words of the deceivers, and might even damage your noble reputation." Wisp holds out her hands, almost begging the stupid little gremlins to please not start a fight when she is this close to the bleeding front lines. "We have come as neutral emissaries - servants of your equals in the neighboring kingdoms - to offer our services as peacemakers. Let us negotiate the idol's return, and negotiate a proper punishment for the kobolds, that they will remember both the consequences of disrespecting the Sycamore and your great mercy. Let us settle this silly mess they have made, that the mitflits may return to their noble business and trifle no longer with the tiresome nonsense of outsiders. "If we cannot..." Wisp shakes her head sadly. "I fear the glowing reputation mitflits have always enjoyed among our people might become... smudged."
Like I said, it's less that Wisp thinks the party is being anti-mite bigots or whatever and more that Wisp's religion and character backstory make her very reluctant to kill a couple dozen fey without attempting another approach. She would actually prefer to slaughter bandits - she simply doesn't see fey the way anyone else in the party does, and that's fine. Signy's tone put Wisp on-edge because her especially provocative attitude gave Wisp the impression that Signy had basically made her mind up on it. It was a very blunt way to introduce the idea to Wisp, which is fine, because the impression I get is that Signy is meant to come across as a fairly brusque and blunt person. I'm really trying to avoid party conflict right now, especially since I literally just got back. I won't get in anyone's way. It's been a long day for me. Wisp goes quiet and accedes.
Wisp doesn't seem to know how to respond to Signy's seemingly bland attitude towards the matter. She just gestures emphatically towards the tree and taps her walking stick against the road.
Wisp's ideal, mind you, would be to try to intimidate the mites into vacating the premises, or at least to make a good-faith effort at negotiating terms before resorting to violence. But I think a compromise is a more likely option. Wisp isn't naive to the nature of mitflits, to be clear. She just sees fey in a very particular light. She wouldn't blame a fey for nearly drowning her as a child, so she's not going to blame the mitflits for being demented little spidergremlins. She sees fey as beings to try to sort of work with, or work around. You might as well ask her to destroy a river or chop down a forest. She'll consider it as a last resort, but it's an inherently disturbing concept on a spiritual level.
"'Tis not about 'value', for Pharasma's sake, an' not about their popularity! 'Tis about respect for - " Wisp sputters, beating her staff agitatedly against the dust as if trying to expel an excess of emotion. "Wretch or not, a mitflit be a fey, an' there be a right an' wrong way about it. Some forms of respect have nothin' to do with the fey itself an' everythin' to do with what it... with what it... it's... the flow of a..." The gnome seems to lose their thread and founders, unable to keep the words flowing in the right order, let alone in an order that makes any real sense. It's too much, and all at once. Going from an argument that dug up too many old thorns to playing sycophant for an abusive coxcomb to this... They look to Brental, then the strange new elf, hoping to find an ally in this argument.
Ack, I know that Golarion's lore is really based on the two-dimensional morality for monsters, and that the whole point is to have guilt-free fights with large numbers of intelligent humanoids, but killing a lot of fey is really going to be a hard sell for Wisp, spiritually if nothing else. The last thing I want to do is disrupt things, but her reverence for (and fear of) beings of the First World is one of her defining characteristics. If absolutely necessary, the options I can see her accepting as a reluctant compromise:
Wisp looks up sharply at this. "Urgathoa's rot!" they blurt. "Every last one? They - they might not be the nicest, but they still be o' the First World. Cut that tree an' it bleeds fire! Why not seek to drive 'em off, or - or at least try makin' peace first? Dark bloody butcher's eyes through which you see the world, girl!"
"Maybe later," Wisp says, as Brental politely prods at Meneas for context and Meneas seems surprisingly open to answering. "Want to save somethin' to talk of over the campfire tonight." Wisp places herself in the middle of the party, her easy-going manner having slipped away rather quickly after the encounter and given way to another period of mute passivity. Normally she would advocate to call out, to avoid any perception of being burglars or invaders, but the words can't quite seem to escape her dry throat. The mask she put on didn't come off cleanly this time.
"Aye, an' to the farmer, the hungry blackbirds may 's well be demons." Wisp gives a languid shrug. "An' to the hunter of wolves - " She is cut off as Signy makes out the cries for help and the group rushes ahead to the man's rescue. Wisp is patient and sweet as she calms Vincent down, easily earning his trust with the same easy-going smiles and shrugs and equivocations she was just wielding in the awkward bandit conversation. "Oh, of course! Aye, just awful, m'lord. ... You hung there how long? You're made o' stern stuff indeed, Lord Surtova. ... Goodness, you don't say..." Not even a hint of annoyance with his manner seems to flicker in her eyes or twinge in her voice. She graciously accepts the coins and makes sure to clarify that it really isn't needed, but is is a mark of his nobility and generosity, and that the party will never forget Vincent's charity towards them. Meneas's sharpness doesn't faze her one bit, either. She acts almost as retainer, in fact, doing her best to soothe the noble's battered ego. She shrinks away only when she realizes that these two know each other, quickly moving from between the pair and allowing the standoff to play out.. As the groups part ways, she makes sure to curtsey deferentially to the nobleman, making some gentle apologies - "You know how it is, folks out here likin' their hoods an' masks, very prickly, he's had a long day, m'lord - " before following after. She is silent as she rejoins the party, assuming the nobleman doesn't pursue. A serene smile remains drifting idly across her face, as if she's just enjoyed a truly lovely conversation with a dear acquaintance.
Wisp has had some pretty bad experiences with water, so even accepting the mere possibility of falling into the river will probably take some time on its own. Also, sorry! I wasn't sure how these challenges worked. So do we not each need to roll for this encounter?
Yeah, this particular challenge isn't Wisp's best friend. She's about as athletic as a rock at the bottom of a river. I posted my skill rolls for whatever I can really attempt - if Diplomacy and Perception are off the table, she'll try her luck with the straight Dex check, or the Acrobatics check if absolutely necessary. Even if she puts away her buckler (which she generally doesn't like doing), Wisp's Swim is a handsome -4, and her Climb is a -2. Wisp can find a way to drown in a koi pond. On the bright side, if we are allowed to take another stab at Diplomacy, well, allow me to introduce Wisp's new fiance...
"Signy's right. Wisp, I don't know what sort of bandits you're thinking of, but I've never met any such as those. This Stag Lord seems more in line with the typical bandit I've encountered than anyone keeping something resembling a code." "Oh... I'm sure you're right, dear." Wisp bobs her head happily, the beginnings of what almost looked like a frown replaced with a humble smile. "I'll keep to mindin' my trees and beasts, and leave you as our expert on bandit psychiatry. Heavens know you've like as not seen more insides o' their heads than I." The fey farewells and embraces leave her slightly less easy of manner, and she coughs and clears her throat, a mixture of respect and nervousness washing her face in a rose-pink glow quite unlike the gnome. She is therefore quite eager to turn her attention to the problems of the journey.
"Not personally, Brother. But beauty isn't always skin-shallow." The gnome winks. "There're plenty o' different ways to appreciate someone's anesthetic."
"What of compliments?" Wisp smiles brightly, clearly happy to be gaining some distance from the previous conversation. "There's not really any such thing as an ugly fey, you know."
“Everyone should know better than pointless cruelty,” she agrees. “But why a bandit in particular? I would think terror has its strategic uses. Certainly, if it comes to a matter of life and death…” Wisp's eyes dart to Lina, and she smiles easily. "There be rules to banditry, dear, just as with hunting. Or with bandit-hunting! These creatures aren't left for any normal message." As she speaks, her fingers idly pick at one of Vodnykel's braids, unconsciously undoing it and sending flowers scattering to the path below. Her eyes drift away from Lina, down to her uneasy handiwork. Her smile drops away, too. "'Tis out of boredom. Or sport. Or spite. There's a difference betwixt throwin' a stone at crows in the field an' shootin' one caged. You don't just... leave it after, still livin', still caught fast. Even the worst I known, they known that much. It's not professional." After a moment, Wisp seems to realize what she's doing, and she stops undoing the braid. She looks up at Lina again, again with that easy smile. "Attracts the wrong kind of attention, too. Angers fey, invites disease, scavengers. It makes me wonder what this lot have planned, that they don't fear such things."
Thanks, all! Watch as Wisp manages to inadvertently miss every fey encounter the party runs across and her Drawback never comes up. I actually missed the whole detail about Tyg coming up and prodding Wisp, as well as Tyg's description. If Wisp hadn't been so distracted by everything going on, she probably would have had a somewhat more pronounced emotional reaction to a tiny half-naked fairy appearing and jabbing her in the side. The question becomes, is "flustered Wisp" any different from "socially overstimulated Wisp"? Only time will tell.
"Oh, aye, I noticed you made some fair friends." Wisp gives a sigh, glancing up toward the morning sunlight as it filters down through the forest canopy. "A story, you say? Hm. Would've liked... agh, well, tiswhatis." The gnome shifts slightly in the saddle. "'Only moderately '. Huh!"
Wisp listens in dazed silence, struggling to take in all of the new information. She's missed so much just in four short days. She's grateful, though, as for once she doesn't have to be the one to fill the silence. "Kobolds an' mites. Snakes an' spiders. If he's formerly o' the Green Faith, that'll make him ten times the dangerous. But, Brother... I've seen razed trees, trees that didn't need to fall. Snared songbirds with broken wings - a diseased deer, no good for a meal, caught in a trap an' struck with stones before bein' left to die - " She shifts uneasily atop Vodnykel. "A cat might play with a mouse now an' again, but... what the Stag Lord's men do has no point, no sport. A druid should know better. Lady Despair!" Crushed flowers fall to the ground as she grips two of Vodnykel's braids tightly, seemingly for balance. "A bandit should know better."
Wisp nods, her gaze trailing after the two fey. "... hm. They're a lovely sort, aren't they?" She looks over at Signy. "I can take the third watch, dear. That's yours, aye? I need to gather meself a tad." But for the time being, the little creature stretches, yawns slightly, and finds a dry patch of moss to curl up upon. It's been some time since she got to rest with someone else standing watch, and she's almost surprised at how quickly the cobwebs of sleep drag her under.
Wisp is about to make a playful remark when, as Signy rolls over, they notice the remnants of the arrow in the young woman's leg. Their face falls, and they seem to take a moment to compose themself. "Well, sometimes," they say with a smile. "Dear, if you'd wake up, I can finish the fine patching job you've had done on that leg o' yours."
"Moderately!" Wisp untangles her leg from the wire, her tone sweet and playful but rimmed with salt. She has a new staff now - one formed of several thick rose vines braided together. From beneath her helmet, she smiles up at Brental and replies in kind, warming her hands and clicking, then whistling in the direction the party's been traveling in, gesturing as she 'speaks' to a cluster of reeds nearby. Druidic:
"Under the same sky, but along a different river. It seems the currents are rejoined for the time being, Brother Odd-Eyes." In Taldane, the little gnome adds, "I believe I said I'd keep you lot safe. Just had to run some errands, 's all." She suspiciously watches Vodnykel's approach, then grasps the mammoth's trunk and lifts herself to her feet. "Well, well! I've heard it said absence makes the heart grow fonder. We're at peace, then, you and I?" The fact that her feud with Vodnykel was never anything more than one-sided seems to continue to elude her. She dusts herself off and raises an eyebrow as the Elven conversation rises around her, then turns to Meneas. "No." Leaning on her staff, she clambers over the tripwire and makes her way into the clearing. "Wasn't anything to find." As she draws near to Lina, she gives a simple but respectful curtsy and offers her hand to shake. "I don't suppose the you an' I have met before, have we? You can call me Wisp. At your service, dear."
I'll be putting 1 rank in Diplomacy, 1 rank in Disable Device, 2 ranks in Perception, 1 ranks in Sense Motive, 1 rank in UMD, 1 rank in Survival, 1 rank in Stealth, 1 rank in Heal, 1 rank in Knowledge (geography), 1 rank in Lore (First World) for my skills. I'm trying to avoid too much extra overlap with what others invested in last level while also shoring up some weak points. Okay, Wisp is fully leveled! I'd planned to level dip into Rogue, but I'll do that next level purely because I only remembered when I was halfway done leveling and I don't want to slow things down. :P Oh, also, sorry, I just realized me saying Brental is on watch implies there's been a timeskip to, like, 8pm. If that's not okay, just scratch the part about him being at watch.
Hey, all! So I'm back. Things have gotten a little easier for me, and Rackal very kindly issued me an invite to return. I'll try to, uh, get settled back in without too much fuss.
Rackal:
Wisp was lying when she said that the Spirit of the Land guided her to leave. The truth was that she was she'd panicked a little. Wilderness guide was one thing, but actively confronting a force of armed killers on behalf of two strangers - strangers who were going to be put in a lot of danger if they failed - felt unfamiliar to Wisp. She isn't accustomed to that kind of responsibility. As a rule, Wisp prefers to avoid an unbalanced fight, not heroically confront it. Additionally, she'd been getting a little... burned out by prolonged time around her companions, some of whom she was sort of starting to feel concern for. She'd promised to keep them safe, and that obligation, coupled with the weight of so much constant social contact, instilled in her a need for space. Perhaps the Spirit's constant little messages intensified her feeling that things weren't normal, that she was losing control. But the Spirit kept whispering to her. And as Wisp saw more and more signs of deforestation, found animals injured for sport (not that Wisp has strong feelings on animal welfare, but without even killing and eating them afterward, well, it's just not natural), she reluctantly accepted that she couldn't just leave. I made a promise, she thinks bitterly, as she draws near to where that chittering beaver told her the party had gone to. I don't break those. Alone. The word carries its own range of meanings for any given wanderer - some consider it a curse, others an intense relief. Some consider it a protective cloak, others its own web to be entangled in. Wisp has been alone for four days. That's not very long at all, not for one accustomed to it. Wisp likes being alone. People are frightening. Exhausting. She can never read them as close as she needs to to feel safe, never feel totally sure whether the look in their eyes as they glance her way is fondness or contempt, or something even more dangerous. The folk of the River Kingdoms walk with the spring of violence in their footsteps, ever-guiding them towards the next bloody skirmish. Wisp is no exception. She's surprised to feel a pang of relief, then, as she catches sight of Brental's pale hair as he stands watch over the flickering campfire. This emotion surprises her, puts her off-balance. Which is unfortunate, because it makes her forget about Brental's fondness for tripwires. A loud jingling, a muted thwump, and several hissed Gnomish curses and damnations against the entirety of the mammoth species, announce the return of Wylhia the Wisp to the party.
Wisp nods imperceptibly. This is more what she expected. Violence for violence, death as a tool to be used to make life easier. Still, she tries to play peacemaker for Lorna's sake with what social energy she still has in her. "If they're always to be threats, then there's nothing for it. Could you... I don't know, send for someone from the city? To bring them back for, erm, for whatever it is the city does with them?"
Wisp blinks slowly at Lorna's concern, not fully understanding it. It takes her a moment to parse the perspective, and she senses that within Lorna dwells something Wisp has never needed to understand. "Oh. Certainly. I have no problem with leaving people alive." She hesitates. Her voice comes out a little stilted, almost formal, as she tries to piece things together. "Would you... like me to attempt first aid on our fallen enemies when the fight is over?" She's seen people take prisoners before, of course, but rarely for more than brief interrogations or cruelties, or for practical reasons. She frowns, another thought occurring to her—something she's never had occasion to consider before. "Wait, what would we do with them after?" What do they do with prisoners, again? Lock 'em up? Trial 'em? Surely we couldn't get 'em to some city prison all the way out here.
Dang, and here Wisp prepared summon nature's ally instead of detect holidays like a chump... So, before I get into it, I should probably acknowledge that a big part of my personal experience with ADHD involves a lot of rejection sensitivity, which is to say, my brain is very good at noticing small things and obsessing over them until I'm sure I'm not wanted in a space. It might be making me a worse player for these sorts of games. Like I said, I'm thinking about it, but it's perfectly possible that this is entirely on me. Lots of Responding to What People Said:
Yeah, while the various characters may not be entirely like-minded in every way, if they were there wouldn't be much to talk about really. I've played in games here and there where there was zero discord within the party and universal agreement was nearly constant. In my experience those were the games where RP died a slow death. Characters stop talking to each other because they already know the answer so why type it all out? Characters really need to be able to surprise each other sometimes in small ways at least, otherwise the game becomes completely dependent on NPCs for anything dynamic. I've played in those pure-positivity games before. I agree that they're missing out on one of the most fun aspects. That being said, I am pretty firmly of the belief that any interparty conflict or tension needs to be used as a seasoning, especially at the start of a campaign, and not the main course. Basically, if a party hasn't laid the groundworks of general friendliness and a good bond, conflict and tension feel less like hooks worth exploring and more like barbs that make you wonder why the PCs are even traveling togethr. Conflict and tension is a lot more fun if the PCs already have some trust between them. Wisp is a character largely built to generate conflict later on—I mean, she has very obvious conflicts of interest and bad habits that are going to make things hard for her and for those who care about her—but I don't lead with those. If I led with her making mean jokes and refusing to open up about anything and saying things like, "Actually, bandits are cool," the other PCs would feel unsure how to engage with her, and RP would probably suffer. I also kind of feel like conflict requires more work. That's to say, if a player wants to inject conflict into the party, they need to put more time into crafting the post, to make sure other players understand what they're trying to do and can come up with ways to respond that lead to fun conflict, and not just, well, negativity that doesn't go anywhere. As a more specific example, that time where Signy was s@@~-talking with Wisp, you were trying to get across a sort of friendly "ugh, what was up with that a!!#&*&?", but to my reading (and the way I tried to roleplay with it), Wisp was trying to comfort Signy and Signy was being angry and sarcastic at her, which made Wisp not want to engage. It read differently to me than how you meant it. It was still an interesting roleplaying moment, but that was the first time I tried to voice some concern, because it felt to me like you were trying to roleplay a kind of conflict that you hadn't asked me if I was game for. Which is the other aspect of "conflict is fun". It's not a lot of fun if only one player has it in mind. I don't even know where the conflict is supposed to be coming from yet, other than Signy sometimes being in a bad mood. Nothing has actually happened yet that seems like it should be pitting PCs against each other, though I'm sure that will happen sooner or later, and I'm down for it when it does. For his part, Meneas has been keeping mostly quiet about things because he doesn't know any of these people (the other PCs), and his patron's the Eldest of secrets, so it sort of comes naturally to him anyways. While I agree that our characters aren't exactly harmonious, I'm not sure that there's much antagonism either. They're still basically strangers - well, some of them are. In all fairness, I think a big part of the goal behind roleplaying the travel, playing games, etc was to help move the PCs from "strangers" to "friendly colleagues". Secretive is fine (I mean, Wisp is literally lying-through-omission in about half of these conversations), but it's not always easy to find "meat" to bite into. I don't think Meneas is by any means overly taciturn, but honestly, it was a bit disappointing that two of the five partymembers refused to play the "let's get to know each other" game or even react to what other characters were saying during that game. Obviously, nobody was obligated, but that felt like an obvious place for the PCs to get more comfortable and sort of start foreshadowing their character arcs and the like. It was in-character for Meneas and Lorna not to want to play, but that, combined with them not really engaging with anyone else's stories, kind of meant it was just a Meneas- and Lorna-less scene. Ironically, Brental, Wisp and Signy were the three who already knew each other (through Brental, anyways), and arguably needed the silly team-building exercise the least. :P Okay, so the tl;dr is that there probably isn't really a problem. There are aspects to the gameplay that have bothered me, but a big part of that is that I specifically designed a PC whose main mitigating factor for her evil alignment is "I protect those I care about", so I'm trying to position her to start caring about other PCs sooner rather than later. Wisp is a lot more interesting once she gets to that stage. Signy and Wisp got off on the wrong foot, and that's been hard to bounce back from, but it's honestly the only interaction that's really bugging me. I'm not anti-conflict, I just want to be in the loop about what's going on. I've been in a lot of games where players use in-character dialogue as a sort of passive-aggressive way of expressing their annoyance with other players, or the GM. You know, a PC remarking in-character, "Wow, this monster attacks really slowly" to remind the GM they're posting too irregularly, or "Wow, [fighter PC] is so good at fighting, you guys don't even need me!" to hint that they think a PC is overpowered, that kind of thing. It's really pervasive in the game I've been running for the last six years. It's what I'm used to, so I perceive it where it's not intended a lot. Play-by-Post also just, well, doesn't provide much in the way of feedback. I rarely have any way of knowing if Wisp's posts are contributing helpfully or are just bogging things down with her personal nonsense. I appreciate everyone who shared their thoughts or offered to try to accommodate me here. I'll try to read the PC interactions with a little more care. I'm not asking anyone to "tone down" conflicts or secretiveness at this time, as long as people don't mind if I occasionally want to come to the Discussion thread to check on people's OOC intent behind it. If people are okay humoring my silliness on that, I very much appreciate it.
Oleg, meanwhile, seems to have been far more focused on your words that you hadn’t necessarily come to help them with their problems despite the word from the city.”I told you Lana what did I tell you? Riders at night carry no glad tidings!” "But riders by day bring the same, just with lighting." Wisp smiles slightly, remembering the old saying. "Aha! A protection racket! I thought that was a city thing. We can handle that kind of trouble." A protection racket! Wisp thinks. I thought that was a country thing. Wisp is a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of information, of people, of new location and new concern. She retreats, going increasingly quiet and mutely nodding along to what is discussed. Her fingers tap nervously along the staff, the only signal that the gnome is having trouble processing things. All her focus goes into not missing anything, and none goes into actually engaging with any of it. "'Tis a good plan," she says at last, shifting idly. Her voice is distant, poorly-placed. "I'll be hidden on the ground, where I can heal. Someone should guard me, though. Not good in... close-up fights." She takes a deep breath. "I have a poultice of healing an' a poultice that begs sharpness from fangs and... and makes natural attacks hurt more. Vodnykel could use the second for his tusks."
Honestly, I do? It seems like almost every conversation the PCs have had has featured at least one character either pointedly ignoring someone, holding back what they really want to say, arguing, or being annoyed with someone else. It might just be my perception, but it's really hard to say it's all in my head. I don't actually really enjoy the dynamic, so I'd love if it was. It's a rough energy to start out with. That joke was sort of my clumsy attempt to broach the subject. There's a reason Wisp has morphed so fast from "mysterious soft-spoken but friendly gnome who sometimes makes mean jokes" to "compulsive placator with some secrets who's just trying to get people to talk to her". I don't feel comfortable running with the former concept in this party. Honestly, roleplaying with this party is kind of stressful, and I sure don't like having to voice these feelings as the lone "problem player", but there it is.
Figures—the one PC who decides to try Aiding on Diplomacy is the one who gets a 25.
Wisp is a little taken aback by Oleg's friendliness, but her husband's mistrust puts Wisp more in her comfort zone. Then Meneas takes her hood off, and Wisp's eyes widen slightly. She clears her throat, regaining her senses, and steps in with a slight smile next to Lorna, acting as a sort of buffer to clarify any points of confusion and give some extra credence to Lorna's statements, almost like a herald. "Aye, as my companions say, we're here to handle bandits. You must excuse our calcitrance—we're tryin' to be careful about bein' too up-front with our exact mission with strangers. I don't believe we expected to be expected." She performs her standard peasant's curtsey. "My name is Wylhia the Wisp of the Green Faith, here servin' my companions as guide an' ambassador to the beasts an' birds an' fey. I will say, we've had a long day's ride to get here before dark, and 'tis a lot easier to speak of these matters with a full belly."
I just realized I've hit the point where, between the constant tension between PCs and the guarded/unfriendly NPC interactions, I think I might actually trust this aggressively nice lady less than if she'd told us to go eat rocks. :P I'll try to respond in the morning! It's late for me. Or, well, early, I guess.
"I think it's more complicated than all that, dear, for a lot of us." Wisp shrugs. "But I'm on your side of it, I think, if I have you right. There aren't 'good people', in my book, and there sure as anythin' aren't 'bad people'. Bad actions, maybe. But really, the only sure things in life are hearth, family an' food on the plate. The rest of it's just tryin' to explain... why we do what we do. We like to feel important, an' I was hungry or my own were in danger, those don't sound as glorious." She's happy to make conversation about whatever topic surfaces, especially since it helps her understand her companions better. It's easy to tell that she's a little surprised at their cynicism—she'd always thought folks outside the River Kingdoms were more
"You're a funny kind of knight, aren't you?" Wisp doesn't seem to mean this in an insulting manner. How it comes across is another matter. Her mind is elsewhere.
Wisp nods slowly, no disagreement in her eyes. "So you'd just as soon end the fight before it starts, you mean." She eases Vodnykel forward to join Lorna, discretely helping to keep Lorna's horse at a steady gait and mediate between the pair. She's not much of a rider, but as a translator, her services are hard to beat—though she tries very hard to avoid implying Lorna doesn't know how to ride. "By the way, Swift Heart doesn't seem sure what that nudge means, dear. It might be a more obscure signal 'round these parts."
|