Yaziyah "Speaks For The Dead"'s page

Before anything else, Yaziyah tends to Marcus, away from prying eyes. His muscles and tendons must be a mess, so she applies a warm herbal compress and gently massages the neck, shoulders and upper back, employing restorative magic if necessary.

Heal, if needed: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

Can cast (Lesser) Restoration if needed.

Then she wanders among the dwellings, taking in all the details of the Shoanti's daily lives, wondering if she could live like this... or if she would want to live like this. Yes, there's much hardship here in the Cinderlands, and it hardly seems possible that humans could even survive here, but that is also the glue that binds these people. Such a hostile environment would breed extraordinarily hardy people. She thinks back on her life in Korvosa; even with everything that had happened, she never had to worry about a place to sleep, or her next meal, or not having water to drink.

Yet she also sees joy and laughter and love, as the children play under the watchful gaze of adults, as women come together in circles to weave or prepare food, and men boast about their last hunt. She wouldn't be caught dead in one of those domestic little circles, but... it's nice to watch them.

Yaziyah nods at the rare admission coming from Marcus. In the same low voice, she replies "A herbal compress and a massage, then. Some restorative magic if it doesn't ease after that."

She then turns to Krojun, facing him with a steady gaze. "Well, then. Are you satisfied?" Her tone is calm and even, not challenging in the slightly.

Yaziyah snorts at Marcus being called "little", offering the victor an arm to help him get up. In a low voice, she asks "How are you feeling? That looked... intense. If you need a pick-me-up just say the word."

At Gaekhen's cairn

Yaziyah sits cross-legged in front of the small pile of stones, closing her eyes and tilting her head to one side as she reaches for the spirits that the old shaman mentioned. Would these spirits still gather around the youth's body if he had been buried in the Grey - or worse, left in pieces in the necromancer's foul laboratory?

She communes for a few quiet moments before standing up, gazing at the cairn for another few moments.

Back with the Skoan-Quah

At the sight of the big warrior, she tenses. She was all too familiar with the type - the ones who put much stock in physical prowess and maintaining their image of peerless fighters. Often it was more dangerous to defeat them than to be defeated by them, for they had a keen sense of personal honour and they did not take kindly to any loss of face. She locks eyes with Marcus over the heads of the crowd, tightening her grip on her hammer. She would fight this Krojun if she had to, of course, but great care was needed in handling him, seeing how most of the Skoan-Quah deferred to him.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Yaziyah translates the invitation to the rest of the group, pointing out which yurt has been offered for their use, then joins Magda in paying her respects to Gaekhen's burial place.

The rest of the day she spends wandering around the Shoanti settlement, trying to find if any of the older people knew her parents and generally getting herself acquainted with the living and breathing way of life of her people. Many of her expectations are confirmed, while others are entirely shattered, and by the time evening arrives she is looking a little dazed and lost in thought.

The leonine creature startles Yaziyah, and she reaches for a weapon that is not there; but after the creature shows no sign of aggression she relaxes a little. What was it, anyway? A trophy? A pet?

She breathes out in relief at the sight of the old shaman, shaking his offered hand warmly. "It is good to see you safe and sound, Thousand Bones. We had to leave Korvosa in a hurry, after what we learned," she says in Taldane. Yaziyah looks at her companions, then at One-Life, switching to Shoanti. "Which is what brings us here. Honoured elders, might we speak privately?" She repeats her words in Taldane for the benefit of her companions who did not understand Shoanti.

"I am called Speaks For The Dead, honoured elder. My parents were Laughing Water and South Pillar," Yaziyah responds, inclining her head in turn to both the man and the woman. In truth, Yaziyah had never gone through the coming of age ceremony, and her Shoanti name was simply what some elders started calling her once her spirit-bonding abilities manifested. And it took much coaxing to get her parents' tribe names, which they had barely received before joining a travelling troupe and settling in Korvosa. She doubts anyone here would have known them - her parents would be older than the old woman leaning on the cane.

She raises her head and looks around the settlement. "Is Thousand Bones not here?" A pang of guilt assails her. With everything that had happened, she hadn't managed to check in on the elder Shoanti while they were still in Korvosa. Was the old man still alive? Had he survived the blood veil? He was a powerful shaman, surely the spirits had kept him safe...

As much as she was uneasy about surrendering her weapons, there really was no other choice. The Skoan-Quah cannot begin to trust her and her companions before they show they are willing to trust the Skoan-Quah. Trying to keep the apprehension from showing on her face, she places her own weapons on the growing pile - the long-shafted lucerne hammer, the battleaxe, the warhammer, the crossbow and bolts, even her sling. She raises an eyebrow at the impressive collection of daggers relinquished by Marcus, making a mental note to get one for herself at some point.

A sharp intake of breath is Yaziyah's reaction at beaing called 'tshamek', as she visibly tries to reign in the rest of it. She replies in Shoanti.

Shoanti

"Greetings to you. We came here humbly seeking answers from your clan's elders, regarding an ancient enemy." She tries to maintain a tone of respect and not to appear demanding; she speaks slowly, in case her city accent is confusing or difficult to understand.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31

Yaziyah focuses on healing everyone's injuries.

CCW: 4d8 + 10 ⇒ (8, 5, 4, 8) + 10 = 35
CCW: 4d8 + 10 ⇒ (6, 1, 4, 6) + 10 = 27
CCW: 4d8 + 10 ⇒ (4, 2, 5, 4) + 10 = 25
CCW: 4d8 + 10 ⇒ (7, 3, 6, 4) + 10 = 30
CSW: 3d8 + 10 ⇒ (3, 5, 1) + 10 = 19

She was at death's door - but so was the creature in front of her. She could not let it hurt the others, as much as her body screamed to RUN! HIDE! Besides, she was tough, she would survive this; and if not... she trusted in Magda.

Attack, DF, IC, Haste, PA, favour: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (17) + 19 = 36
Attack, DF, IC, Haste, PA, favour: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (18) + 19 = 37 Damage: 1d12 + 21 ⇒ (7) + 21 = 28
Attack, DF, IC, Haste, PA: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (8) + 19 = 27 Damage: 1d12 + 21 ⇒ (7) + 21 = 28
Attack, DF, IC, Haste, PA: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17

If the first chimera drops, using Lunge to reach the second one, if needed.

Extra attack from haste: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23 Damage: 1d12 + 19 ⇒ (4) + 19 = 23

Reflex Yazi: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Reflex horse: 1d20 ⇒ 9

Yaziyah is so dumb-founded by the strangeness of the creatures that she reacts a little too late, and receives the full blast of their electric breath. Without stopping to dust herself off and trying to ignore the searing pain all over her body, she charges forward - it was imperative to try and kill these beasts before they could fly too high, where they would be out of reach for both herself and Marcus.

"Jolistina! You still know how to shoot? Feather this one, now!"

Divine Favour on self as a swift action.

Attack: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (4) + 16 = 20 Damage: 1d12 + 19 ⇒ (8) + 19 = 27

Yaziyah makes sure that everyone has enough water to drink, refilling their waterskins and canteens as the day progresses. Create water

She is not at all at home in this inhospitable land, despite her heritage, so she is grateful for Magda's magic. At Jolistina's proposal, she nods hesitantly. "I am not much good on a horse, real or otherwise, but whatever gets us there faster is welcome in my books."

For marching order, Yazi will be in front.

The direct appeal in the letter softens Yaziyah further. She knows all too well what it's like to be under the sway of other people and their ideas, the fire of that unshakeable conviction - and the desolation when that conviction turns out to be very, very wrong.

"At the very least, you showed great resourcefulness in making it this far and finding us. I do not know who used you and twisted you to their purpose, but I will help you find out. If only because that person would be a danger to the city, if they still live."

She relaxes her posture, moving her polearm to stand straight at her sight rather than pointed at Jolistina. Not exactly a friendly welcome, but it's a start.

Hi everyone, heads up that next week (June 16-20) I will be travelling for work and won't be able to post.

THAT gets Yaziyah's full attention. "You- What did you do to her?"

She takes a couple of steps towards Jolistina, eyes full of menace.

Yaziyah whirls to face the newcomer, hammer poised to strike. She hisses in disgust when she recognizes the mad elf that had led them on a very unamusing chase through Carowyn manor, then met later in the Urgathoan temple beneath the Hospice of the Blessed Maiden.

"What? Don't want someone else chewing on your toys?"

She watches the woman warily. True, she had been a royal pain in the ass, but after Olenna had killed her lover, the necromancer Rolth Lamm, she had seemed broken, somehow. Lost. Not that she has much sympathy for those who consort with necromancers and worse, but her friendship with Laori has softened her heart somewhat towards those who are a little... different.

As they leave Kaer Maga behind, Yaziyah grows more and more pensive and distracted, watching the landscape and the increasingly sparse life that inhabits it. She often matches her long-legged stride to Aru's, asking in low tones about this or that. She carefully avoids the topic of the Shoanti clans, but seems to nevertheless be fishing for information about them.

With the heat increasing in intensity, she deploys the wide-brimmed hat bought at one of the market stalls in Kaer Maga; it has a thick veil that covers the back of the neck and shelters the face from the merciless sun. When they stop to rest, she exchanges her dress for a loose, long-sleeved robe that allows for plenty of airflow. When anyone gets thirsty, she fills their canteen with water conjured from nothing, or cleanses any natural water source they come across.

Fort save: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Yaziyah rises as they are being dismissed, but seeing Marcus stand his ground she steps behind his chair. "One step at a time, Marcus. We are still a ways from having those fangs, and we may never get them if we don't explore all possibilities." She pauses, looking Shadowcount Sial in the eyes.

See how reasonable I am

"That being said, a guarantee that they will be destroyed is not unreasonable. We have seen first hand the kind of power this relic bestows."

Diplomacy aid: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (5) + 17 = 22

Yaziyah looks away at Sial's admonishment, mouth twisting. "I am a city-born Shoanti. I have done my best to learn those aural histories you mention, and the traditions of my people, but-" She lifts her hands, palms up. "They are incomplete, potentially distorted. And each qu- clan has their secret, sacred stories that they do not share. Perhaps it would be best to start with the clan of my parents, the Skoan-Quah." She touches the tip of a finger under one eye, highlighting the white lines that sketch a skull shape on her face. She then tips her head towards Laori. "And no, don't trust anything that Chelaxians write about my people."

In Kaer Maga

Yaziyah is tense as they move through the crowds of the Warrens and deeper into the city; she barely pays attention to the landmarks that their guide points out, watching the people instead. Everything is unfamiliar and strange, almost overwhelming, but the worst part is the open slave trade. The Shoanti grits her teeth at seeing sentient people on the auction block, and although the sight of the freedom fighters is encouraging, she knows from experience that the effect of such resistance is limited at best.

The opulence and the enslaved women of the Canary House elicit another frown of disgust and disapproval; if any of Magda's urchins would be looking for the lady with the kind eyes to make their deliveries they would be hard-pressed to find that in Yaziyah's current cold glare.

With Laori and Co.

Seeing Laori's cheerfulness lifts her mood a sliver, and the shaman moves to carefully hug the elven woman. "It is good to see you, Laori, but I mislike this place." Whether she is referring to the Canary House, Kaer Maga, or both - is unclear. She listens in silence to the introductions, greeting Shadowcount Sial and his companion with a nod and noting with interest the familiarity between the fourth member of Laori's group and a couple of her own companions. She lowers herself in one of the ornate armchairs when invited, stretching her long legs in front of her with a sigh.

"Yes, we are going to the Shoanti. Do you happen to know which of the quahs holds the information we all seek?" They did have an in with the Skoan-Quah through Thousand Bones, but regrettably there had been no time to reach out to the elderly shaman before they had to leave Korvosa. Yaziyah herself was descended from the same clan, although she very much doubts that they would recognize or accept her as one of their own.

The journey on the halflight path is unnerving at best, and Yaziyah does her best to steel her mind against the strangeness and her heart against the fear. After the troublemaker is tied up by their guide, she moves to walk alongside the cart, ready to subdue the fop should he try to do anything unwise.

The section through the seemingly abandoned city is the most nerve-wracking, and she is constantly watching for threats; just because people no longer live there it doesn't mean that something else doesn't. As Shale gives the signal to run, Yaziyah begins jogging slowly, so that she falls behind to defend the rear of the group if needed.

As they reach the end of their journey, she hesitates as Shale marches away from them; it seemed somehow inappropriate to offer him money, but it is hard to think in the moment what else to give as a sign of gratitude and appreciation. After a little while, she walks over to the Duskwarden guard whom Shale talked to, and hands them 20 sails. "For the Duskwarden retirement fund, or... whatever you brave people need."

Here, in the chilling shadow of the cliff, with the even more chilling presence of the undercity close at hand, Yaziyah is grateful for the brief warmth of Magda's spells. Once they have received their instructions, she prays for a few moments, calling on the protection of the spirits for the duration of their journey.

Then she looks upon their fellow travellers, offering to pick up heavier burdens - as long as they are not overly bulky and might impede her movements in a fight.

Stoneskin on self, DR 10/adamantine.

She nods in response to their guide's question, preparing to step beyond the strange doors onto the halflight path, making a mental note to tip the oread generously if they all made it alive onto the other side. The journey sounded dangerous indeed, and these people were risking their lives many times a day.

"You're right. Whatever it is, we'll need to brave it. We can ill afford delays now." Yaziyah squares her shoulders and starts after Magda, using the shaft of her hammer as a walking stick.

Hippogriffs

Yaziyah stops chanting and clapping as it becomes obvious that the creatures do not intend them harm. She stands back as Kaliyah approaches them, apparently familiar with at least one. Truly wondrous creatures they were, and the shaman allows herself a small smile at the sight of the reunion.

At the foot of the Storval

After squinting at the sign for a while, Yaziyah takes a few steps back and cranes her neck to look up, following the switchback patch up the sheer cliff side with her eyes. "If this way is so much shorter, why would folks ever take the other one? Unless there is some catch to this shorter one." Her gaze turns to Aru, as the only one among them who has ever been in these parts.

Yaziyah begins clapping her hands as she murmurs an incantation. With each clap, the sound of thunder erupts, growing progressively louder until the rumbling sounds overlap each other in a deafening noise.

Casting Ghost Sound.

Yaziyah tilts her chin towards the bag sent by the Field Marshal. "I hope she sent a map. Or does anyone here know how to get to Kaer Maga?" The Shoanti clears her throat, glancing at Jasan before looking away. "Right, supplies. Food, water, a tent or two, probably... tools and such." What did one need on a romp through the inhospitable Storval Plateau?

Survival: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6

"Right, one of Salvator's paintings? I think I remember it, although I really would rather not." Yaziyah shivers, then raises an eyebrow at Marcus. "It doesn't have to be anything sensitive. We can just say we miss her and would she like to get tea together sometime?" The Shoanti half-grins. "And cookies. She seems like the type to like cookies."

She looks at Aru. "How's your geography? Any towns in the vicinity, or cities?"

"The Midnight Teeth..."

Lore (Shoanti): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18

Yaziyah shakes her head slowly, sucking her teeth. If anything came to mind about this relic, it was only vague fragments. Her gaze unfocuses as she stares north, through the walls of the ranch. "Let's hope they haven't forgotten the old lore like I have." She clears her throat, looking at Neolandus. "I don't know how the Shoanti up there might receive us. I speak the language, but I don't know all their customs, and... they might not take kindly to me. So, before we go on a very long and perilous journey - are you sure this is the best use of our efforts? Should we not..." She waves a hand vaguely, "plan on how we'll take back the city? Make contact with allies in Korvosa?"

Level up:

BAB +1, Will +1, HP +9
Skills: diplomacy, knowledge geography, knowledge nature, knowledge religion, lore (Shoanti), perception
Spells: beast shape III, breath of life, mass CLW, righteous might, telekinesis

Picking the Mammoth wandering spirit for now and Phantom Stampede hex, which should synergize well with Marcus's overrun maneuvers if Yazi goes first.

Yaziyah snorts at the idea of Marcus as a newlywed, then sobers a little as she remembers certain conversations with his second-in-command. While the woman might not be looking to wed him, clearly the man was not without his charms... for some. That memory stirs up memories of Korvosa and its people - some of them dead now - and she does her best to not let her grief and anger bleed into her "performance" as a stiff-backed, prim auntie going to the market alongside her "niece".

Once they reach the ranch she takes in the sights with curiosity, breathing shallowly to avoid the stink of manure and gods know what else. The streets of Korvosa were hardly fragrant, but those were smells she was used to. The blonde girl didn't look like a farmer to her, and she thinks she catches a few significant looks between her and some other people in the group, but leaves it well alone until they are in the basement.

The mention of the Shoanti and Storval has a visible effect on Yaziyah, although her expression is difficult to read. She scooches closer to Vera, on the other side from Magda, and puts an arm around the girl's shoulders, squeezing comfortingly.

"I don't like this separation, but I will not go against..." she gestures with her other hand at the cards. "You will be alright, and we will be alright, and we will meet again as soon as we can manage." She dips her head to Zellara. "Honoured spirit, thank you for your guidance. I will ask my people to watch over Vera while we are away."

Turning over in her hands the Harrow card, Yaziyah scowls as well. "And why would you do that alone, Vera? We won't abandon you - or Ishani. Once we recover our strength we can go and get him to safety. Why do you think the Queen wants to take him?"

The long habit of handling a reach weapon makes Yaziyah ideally suited to pole the barge, so she gently takes the pole from Vencarlo. "You rest." As she pushes the barge away from Old Korvosa, she prays to the ancestors to heal her comrades, stating with the ones who had suffered the worst of the rakshasa's attacks.

CSW: 3d8 + 27 ⇒ (2, 4, 4) + 27 = 37
CMW: 2d8 + 27 ⇒ (6, 5) + 27 = 38

Once they reach the shore and disembark, she looks over her shoulder at the flickering lights of the city. "Let us keep moving. We are too close to danger, and we are weakened." It was a pang in her heart, this feeling - needing to get away from the city she had spent a good part of her life trying to help. And perhaps the rush of combat hadn't worn off yet, but she felt restless and anxious, eager to be on the road. Perhaps because this time it felt like they had a chance, that they were moving towards something rather than running away, some sort of future where whatever Neolandus was about to tell them was going to help bring down the murderous queen.

Yaziyah hisses at the revelation about Erasmo. She looks angry for a moment, then narrows her eyes as she regards V- Meliya. "You didn't have to tell us that. I- appreciate that you did. I don't think we will be friends, but as long as we have common goals and your methods don't end up hurting innocent people... I suppose we can be allies. Go in peace, Meliya, and be safe."

She doesn't call upon the ancestors to bless the foxy rakshasa, but there is a slight softening of her tone. Then she begins to help Marcus sort through the spoils, putting aside the things they could use or sell. "The community center will be in demand more than ever. We should make sure it is well supplied."

Yaziyah had managed to land a blow on Bahor as he charged at his sister, but it seems her contribution was hardly needed as Vimanda finishes him off.

"You have honoured your part of the deal, and I will honour mine. Just keep in mind that this city doesn't need more boots on its throat, or snakes in its underbelly. Try to use your newfound freedom productively, Vimanda."

She nods at the surviving rakshasa, then turns to look for Vencarlo and the seneschal. They were the prize of all this bloodshed and hurt, and she would make sure they were safe.

Moving to stand in front of one closed door while having enough reach to threaten several other possible escape routes, Yaziyah tries to muster some patience and wait for whatever happens next. It was clear to her that Bahor needed to die, but in this she will take her cue from Vimanda and the others; the thought of being the one to strike the first blow made her stomach twist.

Readied attack if someone attacks Bahor: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (20) + 19 = 39 Damage: 1d12 + 20 + 2d6 ⇒ (2) + 20 + (2, 4) = 28
Crit confirm?: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38 Additional damage?: 1d12 + 20 + 2d6 ⇒ (12) + 20 + (5, 6) = 43

Heads up that I will be travelling between December 20th and December 31st and may not be able to post.

Hissing in frustration, Yaziyah chases the fleeing rakshasa with a few quick strides, bringing her hammer into and overhead arc towards him as the Gray Maiden cuts him off.

Attack, aid, flanking: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (11) + 20 = 31 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (2) + 20 = 22

"Well, if the corrupt noble career doesn't work out for your brother, he could always join the circus," comments Yaziyah tartly to Vimanda. Then she runs after the prodigal rakshasa, hammer first.

Bahappy Bahour: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (8) + 16 = 24 Damage: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (1) + 20 = 21 why

Yaziyah heals herself, then moves to threaten the cornered rakshasa.

CCW: 4d8 + 9 ⇒ (1, 1, 5, 5) + 9 = 21

Yaziyah strides towards where she had the yelp, sweeping her hammer through the bushes.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19

Yaziyah had been so focused on fighting the marai and protecting the retreating vencarlo and Neolandus that she hadn't noticed that Glorio had disappeared. Badly wounded, she quickly weighs the options - they could all try to get out of there and let Vimanda deal with her borther. But if she failed, Glorio would certainly hunt them down - and everyone close to them, as he had threatened. No, they had to finish this. Finish him.

Stepping around the watery orb, she calls upon the fiery spirits of the Cinderlands, entreating with them to cut off the rakshasa's escape.

Cast Wall of Fire along the southern edge of the garden to block off access to the doors leading into the mansion.

Damage within 10 feet, fire: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 2) = 3
Damage passing through, fire: 2d6 + 9 ⇒ (5, 3) + 9 = 17

Yaziyah would have liked to flank that last marai, but the damned water ball was in the way. Instead, she steps to the side and grasps her hammer at the base of the shaft, taking advantage of its length to strike him from a distance.

Vs. Carnochan, full attack, haste: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (11) + 20 = 31
Vs. Carnochan: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (9) + 16 = 25 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (5) + 20 = 25
Vs. Carnochan: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (9) + 20 = 29

Reflex save DC 18 against damage: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 Reflex save DC 18 against engulfed: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

From the frying pan and into the fire, as the saying goes. Yaziyah has barely regained her senses and gripped once more the shaft of her weapon that a wave of water (water?!) crests over her and engulfs her. At least it should put out the fire...

If the orb moves Yazi from where she is on the map

Swim DC 20: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21

Rather than trying to fight against the current, she swims with it towards Vimanda to attack one of the marai.

Attack, entangled: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (18) + 15 = 33 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (4) + 20 = 24
Attack, entangled: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24 Damage: 1d12 + 20 ⇒ (3) + 20 = 23

If the orb doesn't pull her from where she is, she attacks Bahor. with the rolls above.

Yazi is stunned by this turn of events.

Yaziyah shakes her head. "I don't care what you are. And I'm not a gossip-monger. I do care that you have a dungeon under your estate. So if you give your word that you will cease hurting people, I will keep your secret gladly."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (3) + 16 = 19

CSW TGM: 3d8 + 5 ⇒ (8, 2, 5) + 5 = 20

Her body is bruised and hurting all over. Moving stiffly, Yaziyah retrieves a healing wand to patch everyone up while the door is unlocked.