hyperbolicfrolic's page

With eyes widened in awe, Esta gently takes her bag of platinum pieces from Justice Daramid with a soft thank you and holds it in her cupped palms. She finds herself staring at the small pouch, her mind swiveling between everything this small fortune could afford her.

I should at least start by sending some back home, she thinks to herself, and stuffs the bag securely into her small knapsack. She then helps herself to tea and a few of the small offered cookies, and settles herself off to the side from the others—still involved, but not too close.

Her companions speak of their future plans and goals, their murmurs becoming a gentle and surprisingly soothing background noise as she loses herself in thought, absentmindedly tossing one of the pastries to Oolong as she nibbles her own. She had no idea what her future plans were. She’s never really had a plan. As soon as she received her healing abilities, she made sure her parents would be okay without her and then left home. The only “plan” she had was to help as many people as she could.

She still wasn’t even sure how she ended up in Lepidstadt, in the middle of a murder case with a group of people that were starting to become not-strangers, and that bothered her. And she still didn’t know why Professor Lorrimor sent her the letter that led her here, and that bothers her even more. She bites a chunk out of a pastry and takes a swig of her tea, her nose scrunching in contemplation as the memory of their meeting resurfaces clear as day.

She remembered it well. Very well, in fact. And yet it still provided no answers, a fact that frustrated her greatly. She saw someone in need, so she helped. End of story. That wasn’t so out of the ordinary.

So why was she here?

Guess it doesn’t really matter right now, she thinks to herself as she washes down the last of her pastry with a gulp of tea. She was here, and firmly wrapped up in everything happening. She wasn’t going to walk away from it now—not when there were more people to help, and (not that she would admit this out loud) not when she had folks around her that seemed to want her there.

...”I am unsure how far Mr Wyatt's village is, and in what direction the Caromarc castle might be. It would be fortuitous…

Esta is yanked back to the present conversation, one that she has heard little to nothing of. ”I know where Schloss Car'marc is,” she offers quickly, stumbling slightly over the name, then pauses. ”I think, anyway.”

Esta is from Ustalav, but doesn’t have Knowledge: Local or Geography, so juuuuuust in case Intelligence might also be accepted?? :)

Intelligence: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Having stood back to observe nervously, Esta's patience finally cracks at the hardheadedness of the remaining crowd.

"Why d'you want 'im t' be guilty so bad, huh?" She pushes a step past Karras and glares at the crowd. "You want Adam dead so much, an' for what?" Her voice continues to raise as she speaks. "If you kill 'im, you'll only feel better for a minute b'fore the real person you're lookin' for kills someone else!"

She breathes heavily, adrenaline racing through her. "You don't even know what you're talkin' about! You got no proof of anythin' you're accusin' 'im of! But we," she yells, gesturing to the three men standing near her. Her eyes flash with anger. "We looked an' found plenty of stuff that says he's innocent, if you'd just listen!"

She feels the sting of oncoming tears in her nose and holds her breath to calm herself, blinking the wetness from her eyes. "You jus' don't like 'im 'cause he's diff'rent," she finishes, her voice monotone with a new level of tiredness. "He's diff'rent, an' it scares you, an' you don't know what t' do about it."

Esta's excitement rises with every word from the barrister in Adam's defense. They'd done it. They had all but exonerated Adam. Relief flows through her, her shoulders sagging a bit as much of her tension seems to disappear.

The relief is short lived, however, as she peeks out of the window at the growing mob outside. Without a second thought, she turns to follow Karras. "I'm goin' with you."

Outside, she stands nervously with the Doctor in front of her, watching the crowd as he tries to talk them down. This isn't her first observation of an angry mob. She witnessed several as a child, during the few instances that her parents acquiesced her requests to join them on their trips to the market. In those instances, she always waited for someone to step in to put a stop to the impending violence, but it never happened, and she never understood why.

But now, standing there between an increasingly agitated mob and the innocent man in their sights, she knew that she would never be one to stand idly by.

"I've got neither, sorry," Esta replies, her voice wearied from the continual string of incantations she's been chanting to keep her companions going. "But I am real tired of these guys."

She takes a step forward, into the building just enough to carry out her plan. Vision focused on the darkness, she stares with irritation as the words of her spell slip readily from her tongue and into the air around her. Small wisps of smoke twist and swell around her, each shaping into the form of a bat before darting off to their master's specified position.

-Dropping Esta's hexes.
-5 foot step into the building just enough to have line of sight.
-Casting Summon Swarm just above the dark area. My intent is for them to go after Grine, but we'll see how that turns out. :D

With a grunt of frustration, Cira hurls her crossbow to the ground before turning her angry gaze towards the remaining lizards. Glaring daggers, she whips her hand out in front of her, sending a small barrage of bolts towards the enemy nearest Grargath.

Magic Missile: 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (4, 3) + 2 = 9

1st level: 7/7
2nd level: 2/4

Hello friends! I'm still here, I've just been having a lot of issues with the Paizo website. I posted something a couple weeks ago, but it apparently got eaten and I didn't realize it until recently. Plus for the last week or so, it just hasn't been letting me post at all.

SO, I apologize for my absence, and I'll work on getting a proper post up soon!

Caught off guard, any words Esta had planned to speak catch in her throat at the tone and implication of this sudden line of questioning, though she chides herself for being so surprised. It was no different from anyone else she’d met on her travels questioning the abilities of the dishevelled, seemingly uneducated girl who appeared from the forest. This wasn’t the first time she’d have to prove herself, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

She’d never been required to prove it in court, however, with a man’s life hanging in the balance. That was new.

Trying to form a response, she blinks at Kaple for a moment until she's pulled from her thoughts and her focus is redirected towards the sound of a clearly irritated Doctor Karras in the audience.

She bites the inside of her lip to hide a smile as Karras berates the barrister, a swell of gratitude coursing through her as she looks down at her lap.

Feeling some of the weight melt from her shoulders, she sits straight in her seat and manages to meet Kaple's eye, her confidence bolstered by the doctor's praise. "No, I can't say I was ever lucky enough t' get a formal education," she says, gripping her skirt. "But that doesn't mean I don't know anythin'. Over th' years I've read a lotta books, includin' De Motu Cordis, Tabulae Pictae, an' all seven volumes of the Humani Corporis, which're all Old Taldan medical books that're required readin' for anyone goin' into medicine."

"And," she continues, feeling rather fired up. "I’ve also got years of hands-on experience, from when I was travellin’ and seekin’ out folks who needed help."

She sits back in her seat, her pulse racing. "So no, I'm not 'formally trained,' but I do know what I'm talkin' about."

Cira snatches the ring and wand from the hand, stuffing them into a pocket for later. Breathing heavily, she pushes some hair out of her face and looks at Marcus and Grargath, cheeks red. "I am never going near water again unless I absolutely have to," she says firmly, crossing her arms as she glances down the cavern. "Do not let me forget that."

NISA WHY

YAY DALVIN HIT IT TWICE

YAY SKALLA HIT IT

"There," Esta says cheerfully as she tries to keep the trembling from her voice. Unthinking, she wipes her shaky hand on her skirts; she had expected the Beast's skin to be cold to the touch, not feverish.

Makes sense though, I guess, she thinks to herself. He's all bits an' pieces of everythin' else, I'd be surprised if there wasn't some kinda infection or somethin' runnin' though 'im right now.

Affixing a serene look to her face, she moves around to where the Beast could see her and smiles. "I hope that feels better," she says to him. She frowns when she notices the look of fear in his eyes. "Hey now," she says softly. "We're here t' help you, I promise. But y' gotta talk to us, okay?"

"Thank you," Esta says, nodding to Kaple and the guards.

Though thoroughly surprised, and rather touched, when Karras moves in front of her, Esta follows him into the cell and gives the Beast a reassuring smile, her empty hands visible in front of her. "I'm gonna walk around behind you, okay?" she says gently. "I know you don't know us, and prob'ly don't trust us either. But I can't let you sit there with all'a those wounds."

She lightly grabs Karras' arm and ushers him to the side so she can move behind the Beast, continuing to run through her plan. "I'm gonna put my hand on your shoulder, okay?" she explains as she looks for a space on the creature's body to lay her hand. She finds herself becoming distracted by the monstrous form in front of her, unlike anything she'd ever seen. She takes a deep breath, reaches her left hand out, and lays it flat on the Beast's shoulder. Quickly, quietly, she mutters familiar incantations and traces well-known patterns in the air with her right hand, and the left begins to glow with a bright white light.

Healing Hex: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

The past few weeks found Esta moving through the town, offering her services where they were needed, though not even she could tell if the compulsion to heal and mend what she could was because of her patron’s calling or her overwhelming guilt in failing to save Brogol. All she knew was that she needed to keep busy. Regardless, she plied her trade all around town until she couldn’t find anyone that needed her assistance.

With nothing left to do, she made her way back to her companions, finding that their company was even more welcome than usual with the funeral looming in the near future.

"Is anyone ever ready to bury a man like Brogol Stockl?" Aduard proclaims. "He gave his life fighting for this place - and we've only just enough people to bear his coffin."

The misty rain settles over her, seeping slowly into her hair and clothes. She shivers, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head in an attempt to thwart some of the wetness as Oolong huddles underneath her skirt, peeking out as he chirps in irritation. “He didn’ mean anythin’ by it, Aduard, he’s jus’ doin’ his job,” Esta says softly as she puts a hand on the wizard’s arm in an attempt to calm him. “Don’ bite his head off.”

She looks forlornly at the coffin, then carefully, guarded as always, at the new man that had recently joined them. A doctor of some sort, and apparently an old acquaintance of Brogol’s. She knew nothing else of him, but sensed that the others’ feelings towards him weren’t wholly positive.

But now was not the time for that. She stands, half listening as the man talks, and stares at the ground until her attention is drawn back to him. She wasn't sure if it was the easy sacrilege or the declaration of undoing Brogol's death that caught her attention, but either way, this man was clearly not someone to be crossed.

Esta follows closely as the group nears the town hall, staring at the ground while absentmindedly worrying at the hem of her tattered cloak as she wonders once more about what she could have done differently back in the bowels of the prison. Death was not new to her. In her travels there had been plenty of people she couldn't save, despite her most heartfelt attempts. But this... this was different in a way she couldn't quite pinpoint. She barely knew the boy, after all, yet her inability to save him weighed heavily, painfully, on her soul.

As they enter the building and approach the councilors, she straightens her skirts, squares her shoulders, and holds her head high in an attempt to mimic the confidence and authority her new companions always seem to so easily exude. As she carefully takes in their surroundings, she finds herself drawn to Aduard’s voice, almost soothing, awed again by his elegance and ability to speak so eloquently.

She finds herself, not for the first time since their meeting, feeling a bit lacking. She doesn't have Aduard's penchant for speech, nor Dashil and Radag's commanding presence, so instead she stands quietly by their side, wondering not for the first time how she, of all people, came to be in the company of such impressive individuals as these, ready to assist the best she can, should they need her.

For letting them down now, after everything, was absolutely out of the question.

So, so many bolts. Multiple quivers full of bolts. :P

-Posted with Wayfinder

"NO!"

Esta watches as the Splatter Man tears into Brogol and his figure falls to the floor, then shields her eyes from the explosion of energy from the dueling spirits, hunkering down to clutch her fox to her chest.

When the light and sound finally dies down, she pushes herself to her feet, sprinting across the room and falling onto her knees next to Brogol's form.

She looks him over and places a hand on his head in what she hopes is a reassuring manner.

"It's gonna be okay," she says with a shaky smile. Pressing her other hand to his chest, she closes her eyes and mutters the words to herself as her fingers trace that familiar pattern, easing the hex of healing into his body. Sighing, she opens her eyes to ask how he feels, but stops, thrown off guard. Nothing had changed. The spell hadn't worked.

"No," she says, confused. "No no no, tha's... tha's not right." She tries again, and again, and again, pushing more and more of her energy into him, but even so, she can still see the life draining from him. "No! Help me!" Hot tears trace down her cheeks as she keeps trying and trying and trying, yelling to her patron for assistance.

Assistance that never comes.

We would have been seriously boned.

-Posted with Wayfinder

I've been thinking about it as well, so I'm glad to hear you're okay!

What a show-off.

Francispleasedon'teverleaveusalonebecausewewilldie.

Cira sighs inwardly as their attempts at diplomacy fail. She'd hoped mentioning Sesserak would help but that had not worked in their favor.

As she watches the others try again with different tactics, she has an idea. She steps up next to the others, crossing one arm over her chest to hold the other as she uses prestidigitation to coat her free hand in a bright, crackling flame.

Twisting her fingers gracefully in the air in front of her to show off the flames, she looks from her hand to the kobolds with intimidating eyes.

"You'll want to listen to my friends, creature. This will end poorly for you otherwise."

Intimidate : 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

-Posted with Wayfinder

Esta shuts the doors of the large prison behind her, stopping to listen for any hints of where the group of strangers she was looking for could be. She still didn’t know why she’d been summoned by a man she’d only met once, and she certainly had no idea what a group of strangers had to do with any of it, but the letter had made it sound important, so here she was. Uncomfortable and alone in an abandoned prison searching for a group of people she didn’t know.

As she stands still in the entrance of the building, she could hear some very faint noises coming from the hallway to her left. It seemed like as good a place as any to start. Oolong trots along ahead of her, sniffing at the floor as Esta follows behind, peeking into each room she passes. As she reaches the end of the hallway, she hears a slight rustling in the last room on the left.

She pauses, eyeing the entryway warily before approaching, slowly pushing the door the rest of the way open…

...and coming face to face with a large, scowling man with an axe.

Esta yelps and stumbles backwards, holding her quarterstaff in front of herself defensively as Oolong growls threateningly at her side. Her eyes dart between the man with the axe and the small group she could now see behind him in the room.

“Are you… are you th’ group I’m lookin’ for?” she inquires cautiously. “Th’ ones who know Professor Lorrimer?”

"If there are no other questions..."

That sounded more like a request rather than an actual query. Shaking her head with a smile, Cira thanks the baroness for her time and finishes with an awkward curtsey before following the others from the manor, feeling strangely at ease. As they make their way back towards town, she meditates on the very strange, very unexpected turn her life had taken.

When she was forced from Iadara, the only plan Cira had was to survive. Survive the attack, survive the escape, survive the wilderness, just… survive. Having never been on her own, it was a terrifying, split-second decision to make, but it was also the obvious choice. Anything else would have certainly led to her incarceration, and quite possibly her death. Out on her own she was near penniless, had no knowledge of the surrounding area, and was ready to be suspicious of anyone she might come into contact with.

It was completely by chance that she’d stumbled upon Marcus, Francis, and Grargath’s camp, and for some reason they welcomed her with no questions asked. She’d been immensely grateful for that at the time—who knew how they’d take that kind of information. Though wary of them at first, they were warm, friendly, and talkative, and that was everything to the scared and lonely half-elf. She quickly found herself becoming more and more comfortable around them as time passed, peppering them with questions she'd never thought she'd have the chance to ask someone, and getting answers in return. Later Kade had been brought into the fold, and the group dynamic worked even better. She certainly hadn’t expected to have the kind of relationship they all had now. But here she was, coin in hand, surrounded by a small group of people that seemed to like her and care (at least to some extent) about her well-being, and she was glad for it. That kind of companionship was something she had once convinced herself she didn’t need, under the assumption that she would never be in a situation to experience it. She had her mother. That had been enough.

She’d been so, so wrong.

So now she felt a pang of guilt for hiding her past. She owed these people her life, quite literally, several times over, and the only information she’d ever offered was that she had left a ‘bad situation.’ Try as she might, she couldn’t think of a way to bring it up now. Too much time had passed. But what would she even say? ”Oh by the way, you know that magic I use around you guys? Well I completely lost control of it once and might have killed someone! Also, I may or may not be on the run from the law.”

No. No, it was too late now. If it came up for some reason she’d deal with it, but until such a time it was better to keep quiet.

Coming back from her thoughts, she looks around the town square at the surrounding businesses, moving to Marcus’ side. ”Should we find someone to look at those gems for us?” she suggests to him. ”We might as well do it now, while we’re here.”

Cira breathes a large sigh of relief when she realizes that everyone is going to be okay. As she runs her fingers through her hair, she finds herself pondering her situation. She didn't know any of her companions especially well; each of them seemed to be at least a little secretive about themselves, but she couldn't blame them, as she knew she was as well. But they had all gone out of their way to be friendly and treat her as an equal since they met, and that meant more to her than any of them would probably ever know.

Maybe that was the reason she cared about them as much as she did. They didn’t look at her as an outsider, the way everyone did before she left home. It was refreshing, and she was appreciative, and for that she was more than willing to call them her friends.

But was this what having friends meant? Worrying herself sick every time something happened to one of them? She thought of the effects Marcus was still suffering from being poisoned, of Grargath’s still form as he was paralyzed, of Kade’s stomach split wide open. She’d been worried, if not downright terrified, for at least one of them pretty much since they’d entered the tower. She could feel that anxiety in the pit of her stomach. It was a feeling she was familiar with from her childhood, but not to this extent.

Somehow, though, she knew that she probably wouldn't change anything. Despite the anxiety and worry as of late, she also felt like maybe, finally, she was in the right place with the right people.

She refocuses her attention to the talk around her, realizing that everyone is trying to decide on a plan of action. Only when she hears Francis and Marcus discussing their near-exhausted reserves of magic does she recognize her own tiredness.

”At the very least, Kade and Grargath should rest. Francis too, probably,” she adds, noting how tired the cleric looks. ”I can use the daggers to try opening the cage. If that works and you’re up to it, Marcus, you can help me look through the chests. After that…”

She looks around the room. ”If we want to rest here, we can take turns keeping watch while the others sleep. Or we could go back to the previous room, away from the tunnel. Or we could just keep going and hope for the best. But everyone is tired and drained, and if we’re not completely focused, who knows what will happen when we press on.”

She shrugs, not looking at any of them. ”To be honest, I don't think any of our options are especially great right now, so it's just a matter of what we think might work best for us.”

As her companions look over the daggers, Cira stands off to the side, arms crossed and toying nervously with her bottom lip, silently berating herself for her previous excitement in exploring the ruins. She hadn’t seriously considered the danger they might face; she’d just been thrilled with the opportunity to find and learn new things

Not everything is fun and games, Cira. You need to start thinking before you act.

Perhaps if she’d been more prepared, more aware, Marcus and Kade wouldn’t have been injured. She glanced between them and felt a surge of guilt. There’s more than just your life on the line now. Although she’d been traveling with Grargath, Marcus, and Francis for some time now and was quite fond of them, she still wasn’t used to being around people who, well... seemed to want her there.

She snaps back to the present when she hears her name.

”It might make a nice weapon for Cira, or a good backup weapon for someone else.”

Moving back towards the group, she offers what she hopes is a convincing smile. ”I’d be glad to take one, if no one else claims it.”