"She's not..." Azhar looks a little hurt at his brother's words. "And we haven't." he adds more firmly, unconsciously moving slightly to try to shield Amaya from his brother's hurtful words. A move which, of course, does nothing to actually achieve that purpose. "Rev, she's not a one night stand in a place we're just staying in for the night, I care about her. Please be civil."
Rev's thoughts, are probably easy for his brother to read. Complete and utter disbelief... Azhar hadn't bedded the pretty shy Tien woman? Seriously? Since when was Azhar so restrained? He cares about her?
Throws up his hands, palms facing his little brother. Words dry, even, emotionless, "Peace brother." Yet for the lack of tone in his voice, Rev is somewhere between amused at Azhar's falling in love with a girl he hardly knows, to wondering if Azhar has lost his mind. Was Azhar going to stay in this town then, to try and win Amaya's hand? Azhar was just enough of a stubborn idealist dreamer to do so. Rev has to stop himself from shaking his head.
And what about the other girl he had pursued so heavily? Was Azhar going to put her in the back of his mind and go back to chasing her if this thing with Amaya didn't work out? Sasha should be no one's second choice. Rev finds himself realizing he is disappointed at his brother. Then wonders how often Azhar feels this way towards him. In retrospect, probably a lot. Well, what else could Azhar expect from the deamon spawn that was his older half brother. If Azhar could accept him as he was, he supposed he could live with Azhar being imperfect. After all, he was only part angel.
But being Rev, he can't help but add, to Azhar "This is me being civil. Making nice. You're the one mutilating yourself to get a girl's attention. You think I'm ok with that?" Turns to Amaya, he is trying to be nice, damn it. "No offense, but he's never acted quite this way before, and it's a bit disconcerting."
"Azhar's smile gets very wide and his eyes sparkle, "You did it, 'maya! You healed it...and without even using the wand. That's fantastic!" He moves to take her in his arms, then remembers at the last minute the blood he's still got on him from carving up the boar and he stops in his tracks, hesitant to get her covered in it's gore. "You are so beautiful and talented and..." he looks down, looks back with a firm resolve in his eye, "'maya, I hope this isn't premature for you, but...I love you. I do. I really do." He very much wants to take her in his arms.
"what?" Floored.
"Sorry, too early, huh?" he grins at her. "That's oka y, I can take it." he leans over to give her a light kiss. And does so on her temple if she turns away. He whispers to her. I meant it though. Maybe I'm as naive as my brother thinks, but I very much believe I love you. If you want me to keep that to myself though, I understand and I'll try the best I can."
She doesn't turn away, the kiss short, innocent. "I do like you." Her voice so quiet Rev might miss it. "Really."
"Well, that's certainly not a rejection. We'll take that as a starting point then." Azhar grins, turns back to finishing preparing the 'care' packages. He begins humming the tune that he had first heard Amaya hum after the Elopement of the Dowager Princess. He glances at her, flashes her a wink. "Thank you for healing me, 'maya, I do appreciate it....and, I can still help out at the Glassworks, right?"
She smiles as she watches him butcher the pig, her eyes more on his hands watching what he is doing than his face, but the smile gets a bit brighter as she hears him hum. And he definitely catches her watching him when he flashes her the wink. "I am quite certain Father wouldn't know what to do if you stopped coming."
Azhar's smile grows broader, almost giddy though not quite, the expression in his eyes softens, his eyes fixed on hers. "Well, that could be interesting. He probably wouldn't know whether to jump for joy, or try to find out if he was supposed to hunt me down and kill me." he grins, still quite happy, finished wrapping up the various packages. "Sooo wanna help me find a worthy home for the rest of these?" he raises an eyebrow, "I should build another sled with a couple of poles, but...I'd enjoy the company." he glances out the window to check on the amount of time 'til sundown, "course, if you have to get home, I would totally understand." He sets out to build another makeshift carrying device.
Rev decides he's heard enough. Throughout this part of the conversation he had quietly been making his way around the room, until at the tail end of it he is standing in the doorway to his room. 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11 Stealth - he is apparently not naturally sneaky.
"My family isn't one for chaperones nor for the Andoran custom of bundling, before that idea comes up." A small bite to her speech that Azhar hasn't heard before. But her eyes go wide when he cuts himself which is for some reason combined with a glare at Rev as she moves up to Azhar, wincing at the blood. She dabs at the wound with a clean cloth, wincing. She blinks, confused, puts her palm over his, says something in Tien... and when she removes her hand, the wound in gone. A pause. "... that's something I guess."
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 Sense Motive to read DC 24 spoiler
chavamana wrote:
As much as she may like the younger brother, Amaya clearly thinks that the older brother is a misogynist ass.
Who is responsible for Azhar getting hurt... since Azhar did just fine against the boar and it wasn't until his brother started snipping at him that he cut himself.
Rev laughs. In response to the look in her eyes, that Rev recognizes quite easily, having seen it many times before, "Oh, you have no idea." He admits to Amaya, finally addressing her. "But if you think poor sweet Azhar's cut is my fault... maybe you should take a good look at your boyfriend and ask him if his knife slipped or he purposefully cut himself." Rev does not let his brother live that down, not after the look Amaya gave him. It was one thing to be the villain when it was actually him being the villain; it was a whole nother thing to be typecast.
"Congratulations on finding your power by the way." Oddly enough, the misogynistic ass actually means it.
Azhar raises an eyebrow, looks at his brother levelly. "I'd appreciate your speaking to Amaya, Rev. She is important to me. Please." he cleans the blade that he's been using to work on the pig. "Oops. a pause, "You said you're out of healing magic right? Then here's our chance to test this." Azhar has apparently cut himself.
bluff: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17 and it was sooo an accident, absolutely. And on an unconscious level, Rev would probably know that if Sasha were here, there is no way that he would be uninterested in her. He just very much believes his is much more interested in Amaya.
He turns to Amaya, "That might work for official dates...but I don't think it would work so good on our more um, clandestine affairs. Unless your Dad would approve of Tarvi as chaperone?" he says, eyebrow raising, there is a hint of question in the question, but it doesn't really sound like Azhar believes that would fly.
Rev leans back against the kitchen cabinet, as the drama unfolds. "Really? And since when do you care if I address your latest conquest or not?" It's really nothing personal against Amaya. But there have been a lot of girls, and quite a few of them ended up in tears, when their one and only true love found a prettier or more interesting girl. Or had one supplied by his enabling older brother. And he's annoyed at Azhar. Azhar can probably guess it has something to do with Sasha. But Amaya doesn't know him. Probably thinks he's an arrogant unfeeling jerk. Such was life, Rev figures. And it was probably true anyway. At least, it used to be true.
Then Azhar 'accidentally' cuts himself. Rev sees through Azhar's deception. "Idiot." Rev shakes his head at what his brother is doing. Of course Azhar has been called much worse by his older brother. "Clandestine affairs? I don't even want to know." Rev assumes that Azhar is not referring the to group outings, but rather to some personal time he must be spending with Amaya.
"If 'maya would be able to use the wand of cure light wounds." Azhar clarifies.
Rev wrote:
"Ah, young love. You'll get over it eventually." He's such a cynic. Rev didn't believe in happily ever after. "Should I move out then, so you can have a love nest?"
Azhar dismisses the first with merely a glare, he responds to the second. "Thank you for the offer, Rev, but firstly you have a door, second, um, I haven't really discussed that with her yet." he looks down at her fondly, "and I'd like to keep in her families good graces as long as she does. And I don't think they'd much appreciate that."
Mana - don't know if you missed it, but there's a post on the previous page from me that hasn't been responded to yet.
"How would I know if someone can use a wand or not?" The older brother talking right over Amaya's head, still dismissing her as just another girl that Azhar has brought home to bed, for the moment. "Either she can channel divine power or not, and if not, then she might have training in using magic devices. You should ask her." Notice he didn't offer to train her in use of such a device. After all, she's still just a girl Azhar has brought home, even if she's a member of the conspiracy.
"Parents don't usually approve of outsiders messing around with their virgin daughters. If you want to stay in her family's good graces, why don't you have a chaperone?" It's not that Rev is an unfeeling jerk, it's that he's protective of his little brother, as well as annoyed that Azhar is so fickle. Not that he minds, actually, that Azhar no longer seems interested in Sasha.
"Can I tell what?" Rev asks. Thinks Azhar means the assumption that neither of them had been hurt. Shrugs. "Didn't see any obvious wounds, and if she was hurt you'd be all over me to fix her. Figured she'd do the same for you." In his mind Azhar just has that effect on women. They usually threw themselves at him, after all.
At Azhar's repetition of the word anyone and then it's qualifier, Rev shakes his head. "Ah, young love. You'll get over it eventually." He's such a cynic. Rev didn't believe in happily ever after. "Should I move out then, so you can have a love nest?" Strangely enough, for all his cynicism, his offer is genuine. He wants his brother to be happy. Of course he could probably phrase these things better.
"I took her out on a training exercise. The boar just happened to be there." he digests what Rev has been saying. "You have become a good man, brother. I'm sure the people appreciate it very much."
He looks at Amaya, back at Rev, "we were deciding on how to apportion it. Perhaps some of those you are trying to help could use the rest."
He looks at Azhar levelly. He doesn't agree with that comment. But he's too tired to argue. "Generally they curse me for a bastard Tiefling who isn't doing enough to help them. And they're probably right. After all, we have a roof over our heads, and I'm not bankrupting us to help them." He looks at the small Tien woman. "You're hunting? Is that a good idea? You... look fragile." It's not an insult, but it might sound like one.
Looks back at Azhar. "I am not walking around with raw meat, handing it out to people." He means it. There's no way he's doing food hand outs. "Why don't you give it to Fiosa?"
Rev is relatively certain the Tien girl smiles at him, hard to tell with the thick fall of bangs hiding her expression. "Hi Rev." Looks at the boar, "Not poaching... it totally jumped us."
Azhar grins at Rev, "Yes, it did. Absolutely." He places the boar on the table, making sure to do so lightly enough not to break it. He turns to Amaya, and yes, at least enough for our purposes, though if we know a butcher, that probably would have been better."[/b] He looks at Rev, "I was going to use the tub, better to catch the blood, no?"
and then "Sorry to barge in on you. How are the people today?"
Mana - i'm making some assumptions on how things are in the city, and what the poor have access too. what Rev goes through when he heals the desperate and poor... please let me know if that's not ok, and i'll rewrite
Rev shrugs. "Poor, hopeless, dying. Saved a few. Ran out of magic before I ran out of the worst cases. Couldn't save them all. The usual." He says, matter of factly. It was probably routine in a city such as this, where life was cheap, and few could afford real care. "Delivered two new-borns." The bright spot of his day. Paying homage to Pharasma by helping new life into the world. "Was touch and go with mom for a while. Lost a lot of blood. But they'll make it, mom and twins." Azhar probably knows what that means. Rev likely gave his weeks earnings to the destitute mother and children. He doesn't say it, but it's unspoken between the brothers.
"so... jumped by a Boar... you didn't poke it with a stick to see what would happen first?" He asks the Tien girl. Looks her over from his spot by the counter, to see if she was injured at all obviously. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
Gozran 2
Amaya follows behind him a few steps, wipeing up any blood that trails from the boar with a gray handkerchief. And then follows without hesitation when he opens the door. She looks around, curious. Looking out the window in the common room, seeing a view of Westcrown different from her own home.
"So... you actually know how to cut that up and everything... right?"
Rev had just recently come home from administering to sick people who couldn't afford help; His doctor bag is on the kitchen table, implements laid out in a shallow tray, soaking in alcohol. Azhar and Amaya might notice blood stains on Rev's lavender shirt as he comes out of his west facing room to see what the fuss was about. Azhar is used to the sigh of Rev's clothes being less than clean after spending all day healing others, and using surgery techniques to stitch, bind, splinter, and so on, when healing wasn't an option. "When did you take up poaching?" Rev asks, clearing his tools and bag off the table, so Azhar could deposit the boar there. He doesn't think seeing Azhar in the company of a young woman is anything unusual. Of course, he'd never seen Azhar with a young woman and carrying a dead boar before.
"Rev! That's not fair and you know it. Father lives up to his name as the Eternal Balance. He may or may not think much of your mother, but I know he cares every bit as much for you as for me." Azhar eyes his brother reproachfully. "and I will not let you come to permanent harm from this." he pauses, switching gears.
"As for the auditions; Can't say I remember if that was mentioned. Sounded like they were coming up soon though."
Samad Brahma Amin: Eternal Balance of Truth
"His caring for me does not make the fact that he would be relieved if I did not exist any less relevant. I am a constant reminder of how my mother betrayed him, fooled him, and then abandoned him, and saddled him and his new family with a bastard son the moment she caught wind of your imminent arrival." Rev does believe it. He knows he was loved, but he doesn't understand that love. Rev, abandoned by his mother, old enough to remember her, to remember her deamon cruelties, to remember how kind she was to him, even as she was utterly evil. He loves his father, and his mother. And it is something he cannot come to terms with on a logical level.
"Well you're the one with your ear to the ground. I'm just not so much of an information gatherer. I prefer books to people. You find out when and where they are, and we'll go check it out together." Rev believes in few things. He believes in Pharasma. He believes in his brother. In Moulder and Vixen. And just before they parted ways, he had begun to believe in Sasha. These are all things Azhar knows about his brother. Rev trusts Azhar to deliver.
around Gozran 4
Once everyone is there, Rev takes a breath, and begins. He pulls out a beat up, strange looking compass. Places it on whatever serves as a table in the hideout. "This is my Wayfinder." He says, ever so helpfully. Then looks around, making sure he has everyone's attention. He activates it's light function, so that a glow, as if someone had cast a light spell, comes from the wayfinder, illuminating him. Drama was sort of fun. A small grin, then he continues, "Hundreds of years ago, before Aroden's death, there was a Pathfinder Lodge in this city. About thirty years ago, it was sealed off by order of the House of Thrune." He shuts the compass with an audible snap, cutting off the light, casting him back in shades of grey. "Coincidentally, this was the same time frame as the shadow creatures started to roam Westcrown's streets. I don't think it's a coincidence."
He looks at Cassian, for a moment, the small gesture easily missed by those who do not see well in the dark. "There are major magical wards and traps, both mundane and mystic in Delvehaven, making the Pathfinder lodge a death trap. Unless we can liberate the key." A small pause. "There's rumor of a Chelish Crux, which holds the key to Delvehaven, and is likely held in the vault of Aberian's Folly. I know breaking into the Mayor's home and breaching the Asmodean Knot is not going to be an easy task, especially since most of us aren't exactly sneaky. Let alone all of us entering the Pathfinder Lodge therafter to face down whatever is there. But it's a lead. And the Chapterhouse likely holds treasures that could make the risk worth it, even if it doesn't hold the answers to the shadows origins." He looks at the woman who accompanied him. "Ailyn, do you have anything to add? Maybe you can field some questions?" Properly introducing Ailyn to the group, was not, apparently, one of the things on Rev's mind.
actually Azhar, I said I cant exclude all of you and whoever is tougher than the rest is going to be included because of that. If someone would prefer to stay out of the area I can affect... well... that's their choice. But that doesn't mean I am going out of my way to injure our allies. In any case, I'm not here to argue."
Azhar smiles happily, the talk of devils, daemons and demons notwithstanding. Almost as if he's in blissful ignorance that such things are really, really bad. But that couldn't be true, could it?
He gets elbowed by Rev. Of course, Rev misses unless Azhar lets him elbow him. But it's the thought that counts.
"I'm the wrong flavor of Tiefling." He answers Amaya quietly.
She looks up at him. With the great difference between their heights, she has to look pretty far up. Doing so causes her long obscuring bangs to fall back revealing a beautiful face with pert, delicately sculpted features and vivid purple eyes. Curious eyes at the moment, "There are different flavors of tiefling? I think the whole "can't touch, but so tempting" thing some of the nobles have is generally pretty silly, but I didn't realize that there are flavors of hellspawn."
Azhar wrote:
Azhar waits for his brother's answer, then interjects "Hi 'maya, I'm glad you decided to come today. Can I get you anything?" His plate still has a couple pieces of bread and fruit on it. He pauses, and then adds, "Um, I believe Rev helps people that are hurt or sick. Right?" he looks around inquiringly at his brother.
..."Oh yes. I believe some of the girls from back home have told me he's kind of a burnt chocolate, nasty licorice and sulfur mix." He smirks at his brother.
"I'm not hellspawn... that's the problem." He grins down at the beautiful young woman. Then before he explains further he looks over at his brother, a mischievous expression on his face. "Yes yes, and you're vanilla and Cinnamon, and pure driven snow."
Then he turns back to Amaya. His next words pretty much condemning him to death by the laws of this lovely city. "Hellspawn are Devil's get. They are fond of rules and regulations. I'm rather Daemonic in origin... Daemons are the soul sucking - want to destroy all life - creatures from Abbadon. Not to be confused with Demonic, the chaotic crazies who live in the Abyss.
Tarvi raises her voice so it carries back to where Rev is, "If your brother purses those that need protecting, he should look up the blonde in the theater, we do quite well on our own." Voice pleasant but just a hint of something sharper underneath. Her voice drops as she talks to Amaya and Azhar, lost to the distance for the group planning on drinking.** spoiler omitted **
"And he probably will..." Rev tells her matter of factly. "But he's honorable and stuff, and he always does what he thinks is right, so you might as well let him walk you home, since he's just going to follow you at a bit of a distance if you don't." He shrugs. "Well, good afternoon ladies." He nods to the two women, winks at his brother, and departs to join the drinkers.
Rev shakes his head as his brother. "You're going to get stabbed in the back if you keep doing that. And I'm not going to be able to save you." He gives Azhar an appraising look before following him to get cleaned up.
Azhar laughs, "One of these days." he says, then repeats it again, "one of these days." He doesn't seem to be overly worried as they move to the bathhouse to clean themselves and their gear.
** spoiler omitted **
Azhar or DC 15 perception + distance:
"What else was I going to do?" He asks. It isn't really a question. He would go it again, even in the face of his next words, "Sure you're proud, you didn't have an ancient evil rip out your heart through your chest." He lets out a breath of air. "But for the grace of Pharasma..." He doesn't finish the thought outloud. He is not nearly as happy, go lucky, or relaxed about all this as his little brother is. But then, he's never been that kind of man. "Ok, so it wasn't really my heart, and it belong to an even greater evil, but still. Not the point."
All of a sudden, anise seems to be a flavor Parker is growing fond of. She doesn't seem to have a problem with the flavor on Jo's tongue, as her warm and inviting mouth returns his kisses.
As Jo caresses her skin, her thighs, and then her most sensitive spot, even through the lace of her panties, the sensation is overwhelming. Parker's right arm, which has just finished undoing Jo's pants, goes up around Dev's neck and shoulders, holding herself up lest her legs give out, giving him an even better view than before. Her back arches, showing off her breasts even more, thrusting them towards Jo. She makes a small noise, part pleasure, part longing she did not know she possessed, and then the hand tangled in Jo's hair, first tightens its grip on his head a bit, slightly pulling his hair, then nudges his head down, willing for him to go lower with his teasing tongue. His fingers, as they ran over the outside of her panties, would have felt the moisture beginning to seep through.
As Dev's hands caress her behind, squeeze and lift, Parker cannot help put tilt her pelvis back a moment, grinding said cheeks against his body. She makes small involuntary noises now. Pleasure and lust mingling with something even greater than either. Dev's tongue finds that the pulse point just under her ear is actually more sensitive than her ear itself, and a spot at the back of her neck elicits goosebumps.
Helpless to do anything but hang on for deal life, Parker desires to caress and feel both men, but finds she cannot. She is putty in their hands, under their lips, tongues, touch.
Parker is wearing a mish mash. White lacy tank top, trousers, held up by suspenders her feet are bare. she has a red scarf tied around her hair to keep it out of her eyes. Dev might not have released Parker but her hand has found a weapon nonetheless. Dev gets hit in the back with a soft downy pillow. Apparently hurricane Parker is picking up speed. Parker laughs happily and mischievously.
Parker is wearing buttery soft, black leather pants, that cling to every curve, And lace up along the left side. She has on a white fitted button down long sleeve shirt, with a v neck collar (buttons in the front), and over that a black underbust corsett (laces in the back) over which she wears a short black jacket which starts at her waist (front closure, buttons). On her feet are heeled Victorian style boots with butterfly buttons (buttons are on the outside of each leg and the boots come to just under each knee.)
Those up early enough in the morning find Kalimac assessing the horses that have been gifted to the caravan. He selects one and starts getting its saddle and tack on (probably with the aid of one of the drivers; he has the skills, but he is only three feet tall).
Riding Attatoq, he leads the horse off into the distance, away from the prying eyes of the caravan.
** spoiler omitted **
Lio goes off a ways with Jorun, bright and early, to conduct mysterious druidic rituals. When they are done, and the sun is rising, Lio approaches the area where Kalimac went.
Lio grins at Buttersnips, happy to see the artist envision her work. Not about to argue how sales allow for funds for more art. "Well, I should let you to your work." She says softly enough not to actually disturb Buttersnips' revery.
Shalelu dessert:
Lio takes the opportunity to feed you again after you've spoken, but before she says anything. Then to offer you some wine. And lastly she glances around, and repositions herself just a little, that no one can easily see Lio's hand slowly traveling up along the inside of your thigh.
1d20 + 19 ⇒ (9) + 19 = 28 Perception to notice other's watching, and figure out how to position herself best so that your upper thighs are hidden from view as much as possible.
"I suppose it is a good thing that the first rule exists, then." She says very softly, leaning over to whisper in your ear. Her warm breath caressing your sensitive lobe. "And that I intend to &*@$ you thoroughly, every single day, for the rest of our lives. I understand that sort of thing burns a lot of calories. So I suppose if you start to gain weight, you'll just have to be the one doing all of the work in whatever position we happen to be in, while I enjoy all of the carnal benefits of your labor." Her voice is low, breathy, filled with lust. Her hand glides up along your inner thigh, under your dress, until it reaches those panties. And then her fingers start to play with your moist lower lips, as the opening in the panties offers no protection against her questing fingers.
"But that is only one of your indiscretions. What else have you done?" Two fingers push their way, very slowly, inside you, while at the same time she feeds you another bite. "I suggest, you stay on topic, and do not stop talking, until you've run out of confessions to make. I'll interrupt you, if I desire clarification. And... Shalelu?" She says your name, like it is a gift to her from the heavens, "Do not moan. Under no circumstances, are you to react to whatever my hand might be doing. At this moment, you are only permitted to confess your wrongdoing, so that you may be duly punished and by that punishment, absolved of your crimes. Do not add to that list, by disobeying me now."
You are relatively certain that it takes all of her composure to remind herself that there is an audience. That she cannot bend you over the cold marble of the fountain and take you, like she wants to. You catch the briefest glint in her eye, that she almost doesn't care. That she might do it. And then her expression changes just a little, no less lustful, but an acceptance of delayed pleasure. Because taking you in an hour or two, when your bottom was red and hot and smarting, would be immensely satisfying. And it was something she wanted you to ache for. To beg for. To desire as much as she desired it. With that in mind, her fingers wiggle inside you, play, tease, but they do not take you over the edge, at any point. Release, is denied you, even as you are built up close, and kept there, right on the edge. While she expects you to talk, and occasionally feeds you a morsel to eat, or gives you some wine.
"After it is." Lio replies. "Tomorrow sounds good... thank ye Kalimac."
To Attatoq, she says, in Halfling"I would like you to write a poem for me, because I do not have the poet's gift. A poem for Shalelu. Do you need information from me to do so? Please let me know what you would like in exchange for the poem. I have never commissioned poetry before, so, I am not sure what price would be appropriate. " A glance at Kalimac, in case he has any ideas.
Shalelu Shopping:
Lio is drawn to rings that twist and turn, somewhat like vines or brambles or roots. She notices one that resembles a cluster of roses on the vine, made out of rose gold, the twisting vines they sit upon made up out of polished Koa, resulting in a ring with three thin bands, all interconnected, like tangled brambles. The ring is finished with a garnet at the center of each flower bud, only visible if you look into the highly detailed pedals.
Pyonna:
"Madam Pyonna. It is an honor to meet you. Forgive my directness, but I am terrible at small talk. I represent the Mvashti or were we using Sandru's last name? Please assume Lio knows which name to use and Vhiski Trade consortium, and am interested in investing in one or more caravana heading back to the other side of the world. As those of us vested in said trade agreement are not from here, I would like your assistance in arranging for the investment. "
Jorun:
Lio nods, after a moment's consideration. He was right. On both counts. "Well, Aime ah poor friend, an' terrible teacher, ...I realized this mornin' I never asked ye when ye were born. Been thinkin about et ever since. I unnerstand such things are celebrated, to show our appreciashun for 'e person being brought ento 'e world. An' I wonted ta let ye know, thot Aime glad yer here. So I would ask ye, yer birthday, if ye know it. I will naught share the enformashun weth anyunne, if ye dunna wish et divulged."
Myri:
Lio shrugs. "Ah kenn witches moight make use of et. Could use fur and feath'rs frum regular animals though, since we hunt so much fer dinner anyway." A pause, "juju?" She looks questioning at you.
She smiles at your willingness to help, even as she nods, understanding the difficulties. "I do Druid rituals at sunrise. Could do lessons before or after." she thinks outloud. Lio's a morning person, the idea of being up before dawn not at all unusual in her mind.
"I gave him some ideas for some new poetry. I've been looking forward to reading what he comes up with." He scratches the large, eloquent wolf behind the ears.
Reading the elf's body language, Kalimac asks, "Something on your mind, Lio?"
"A lot of things." She replies almost mysteriously, with a small sad smile. The expression is fleeting however, as she goes on to speak, "Would like to learn to ride. But would prefer no audience." She says softly. "Makes me...nervous. ...To be watched."
"What kind of poetry? Do you do commissions, Attatoq?" She asks the wolf.
Lio is in favor of a drink. Once she has had one, she speaks to Zaiobe, concern in her tone, <as I have never been to a wedding before, I shall defer to your wisdom. But perhaps you shouldn't mention this to your lovers, as they are decidedly uncomfortable with anything that has to do with intimacy in relation to Mel's great grandmother. So I suppose if this is something you'd ever want to talk about with them, you might want to hire someone else.> she sounds a little stressed about this.
Hrunndalf attempts to cast Lesser Restoration to undo some of the putrefication on Kalimac and himself, but the foul corruption has left him unable to cast any but the most basic spells.
"Liothonae," he asks, "may I borrow your headband for a moment? It might restore my spellcasting enough for Lesser Restoration."
Lio nods. "If ye wont." Before she undoes the headband, however, she says "Bought et takes twenty-four hours 'afore et works properly. Or... I could cast lesser restorashun for ye." She adds.
Lio can cast One lesser restoration each on Hrunndalf and Kalimac. Please roll for yourself, if you wish Lesser Restoration cast on you...Lesser restoration dispels any magical effects reducing one of the subject's ability scores or cures 1d4 points of temporary ability damage to one of the subject's ability scores. It also eliminates any fatigue suffered by the character, and improves an exhausted condition to fatigued. It does not restore permanent ability drain.
Shalelu appears to suddenly remember where she is as well, and turns a color not dissimilar from Liothonae's.
Fortunately, however, no one appears to have noticed anything. Certainly no one comments.
For some reason, Koya's hand is covering the mouth - well, entire head - of Spivey.
Lio is still blushing furiously. A bit of nervous, yet happy, laughter escapes, and she buries her head against Shae's shoulder.
After a short while, she takes a deep breath, and works at regaining her composure. She sits up a little straighter, arms loosen around Shae's waist a bit as the warm water relaxes her once more.
A brief glimps at Shae, and anyone with half an ounce of sense gets the idea Lio is thinking of asking Shae to go off with her alone for a bit. "Teenagers." She says very softly, so that it's hard for most of the women to hear her. She smiles at Shae. "I didn't 'ave a chance to be a teenager. Think I'm making up for some of it now." She grins, even as she blushes.
stealth 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28no bonus from cloak
At some point, after the ladies have all thoroughly soaked, Lio whispers, very very quietly, into Shae's ears, "I prepped a spell to breathe under water. And I know of another pool, not too far away, that's a very good temperature. Unless of course you've decided Macrame is really your best option." She's still sitting behind Shae, arms carefully around Shae's waist, acting as a comfy Shae pillow.
Kyrademon, rest of replies will happen after work... sorry.
Women's Soup:
At some point, after the ladies have all thoroughly soaked, Lio whispers, very very quietly, into Shae's ears. She's still sitting behind Shae, arms carefully around Shae's waist, acting as a comfy Shae pillow.
"Everyone," she says. "Lio and I have an announcement to make."
Lio nods, and blushing brighter than anyone except maybe Shae has ever seen, she puts her arms around Shae's waist.
Apparently neither Lio nor Shalelu actually wait for a response from anyone else. Looking into each other's eyes, with Lio wrapped up in the moment, forgetting she's in a crowd, and Shalelu's encouraging smile, Lio says, with Shae speaking at exactly the same, "We're getting married." Lio laughs, a small happy sound, amused that the two women spoke in unison, and it wasn't even planned. "In the spring." Lio qualifies. And Shalelu adds, "In a forest with blossoms, and you are invited."
I allow healing items to be party items. The diamonds are material components of healing spells such as restoration and various resurrection spells.
I would allow someone who is (or eventually can be) capable of casting such spells to claim these as party items, without adding them to their loot total, if:
1) The diamonds are entirely reserved as healing spell components, and cannot be sold, used to buy items, or used for other purposes, and
2) No one simultaneously claims them as personally claimed item that would go on their loot claim sheet.
If Alaric wants to take the diamonds for party use, I will of course defer... otherwise, I will claim 4000 gp worth of diamonds for party use of restoration/resurrection.
I will also claim 1000gp of diamonds for Lio to use as other spell components/glyph making.
Flex Time - early morning, after Slaying the Dragon
Having seen Shae look at the quiver from the dragon's den, and apparently having almost entirely failed to put two and two together until they are heading back to the small town, Lio purchases the Quiver back, using her funds to offset the value of the quiver.
"Anwyl..." Lio says softly that morning, while half the group is still sleeping, before she even goes out to perform the ritual for her spells. "I thought... ye might like this." She says in common, presenting her the quiver.
"All you have done during our time together is make me happier than I have ever been," Shalelu replies seriously.
Lio doesn't argue. She holds you, her expression an acknowledgement that she feels the same. She has never been this happy before.
Kyrademon wrote:
At this, she smiles. "I like that plan."
Lio's blush deepens "It's a good plan." She concurs, a serious nod and an overly wise dramatic expression quickly melting into a happy grin.
Kyrademon wrote:
She draws you a little closer into her arm, if such a thing is possible. "Because I say too little. What do you wish to know about me?"
"I don't rightly know what to ask, anwyl." She admits. "I didn't have a normal upbringing, I don't even know how elves are raised or what their lives are like."
She doesn't use the word wish. She has gotten more direct, more willing to take chances with her words. Perhaps it helps that she knows you won't get mad at her for just asking a question. But even with that knowledge, she's not sure how to start asking. It takes her a few moments of collecting her thoughts. Once she has glimpsed what she wants to ask, her words are rapid. "I just... I want to know everything. I want to know why you love the wild places and what makes your heart sing, and why you feel the way you do about everything and anything. I want to know about the quiet moments, when you hunt, or look up at the stars. I want to know about what you're thinking when you say so little. I want very much to know what makes you happy, from all the little things to the big ones. I want to know about your family and your friends growing up, and what made you whom you are today, why you took up adventuring, how you met everyone from Koya down to Tollin. I want to know how you saved the world, and why I've never heard anyone talking about that. I just... would like... to know about you. A pause. A sudden small but certainly worried look that maybe it's creepy that she wants to know so much. That you're the most important person in her life, and maybe she shouldn't have just sprung all those questions on you. Her voice is almost inaudible "I'm sorry, anwyl, you don't have to answer any of that."
"I have both fears and faults," Shalelu says. "Never imagine that I do not. I do not mean to be a mystery. One of my faults is that I say too little."
After a pause she says, "Here is another. I hate goblinoids to a degree that terrifies me. Hate them, Lio. Traveling with Reta is one of the hardest things I have ever done. I have been watching a traveling companion who has done me no harm, for months, with murderous intent. Should she step even a hair over the line."
"You often say many things, you just don't use your voice. You don't need to speak if you are not comfortable, or if you don't know what to say. Being here... that is enough for me. We don't need words." Quiet, but filled with conviction, she holds you.
"I feel that way, about Orcs." Lio's voice is small. She leaves off that list a series of humans, a few elves, and a bloat mage that she would not lift a finger to aid. That she might kill in cold blood had she the chance. "Do you... want to talk about it?" She asks you.
"That is an excellent plan. I approve of that plan," Shalelu says, happily munching on her afternoon breakfast.
"And this afternoon's plan? You've been fulfilling all my fantasies, including several I was not aware I had prior to yesterday. Do you have any ... special requests?" she asks.
"Well..." She worries her lower lip a little, nerves and excitement and desire mingling. "That desk seems like a really good height." She has a hard time putting into words what she would like to try. She was never allowed to talk about her desires, her needs, her wants. Now that she can, she doesn't really know how... but she's learning and getting much more confident. "I ...liked everything we did... last night... was really... amazing. I... want to be inside you again. I want you to go down on me, and I on you, at the same time. I want to press you up against a wall, and then lift you up, and have you wrap your legs around my hips while I penetrate you. I want to touch and kiss you everywhere, I want you to stroke my ears and lick them, and nibble on them too see if I'll like it as much as you do. I want, to do the same to you, to make you come, by only touching and licking and kissing your ears. And... I want... to do anything, you want." Her words are very quiet. Like she's not sure if it's ok to talk about such things. Like she is sharing a very deep secret with you, her lover, her love.
Hrithik shakes his head. Then he nods. "No, not because you are forcing it. Yes, because I should have done so much earlier, and it is not fair to you to refrain from it, and you were right to point out that I cannot accomplish the growth I need to achieve if I hide in the comfort of a secret joy."
Lio smiles, her whole face lights up, her eyes shining with happiness. She takes Hrithik's hand in her own. "Sometimes you make me forget you are a devil."
Liothonae smiles briefly at his enthusiasm. She seems to like the idea of reading and working with him.
"If I told you real details of my Druid order, I'd have to kill you, or ...convert you." She says lightly. Yet, she is not joking. Rather she seems to be stating a fact, one that she doesn't like.
"Runes? Well, you can thank my father, I suppose. It's what he did. It just came naturally to me, when I was a bit older. She shrugs, like it's a natural talent, rather than a learned one.
"Shalelu? I have known her for a year. Found her tracks when I first came to Sandpoint; came upon her camp, we've been friends ever since. She's not like other people. She understands the quiet and the forest, and the passage of time. But then she's an elf." Lio smiles. " The only elf I know." Her smiles is a bit wistful around the edges. Like she's missed out on this whole part of herself, because she has never truly been amongst her own kind.
"My granddaughter does not know who I am. My great-granddaughter knows only because she is ancestor ridden. I did not come to Sandpoint because of them. I had no idea they even existed until after I arrived." This seems like a subject she is still coming to terms with. She doesn't look a day over 23. How can she have a great granddaughter?
She voices all of these generalities. Subjects that Hrithik may want to elaborate upon when they have more time.
"And you? So far from home, with no family ever spoken of. Nothing to tell me who you are, where you are from, or what you seek?"
Hrithik's facial expression spasms a bit at the end of Lio's second sentence. By the end of her fifth, he's raised the back of his hand to his mouth and started shaking slightly. He manages to keep it in until she finishes, but when she does, he immediately succumbs to a short burst of barking laughter. When it passes, he speaks and laughs contentedly in alternation.
** spoiler omitted **...
As he bows to her, she closes her eyes for a very brief moment and takes a breath. Before he can come out of his bow and notice, she has reopened them. He was making an effort. It was a very good start. She nods in agreement, though she does not bow back. She offers him her hand, to shake.
please feel free to comment or respond in character at any point, and answer any questions / react… etc.
I understand, in theory, that you prefer formality. Lio continues to work, a black border is set forth, then it melds into red, which melds into white. The white area is by far the largest. Spaces are left, carefully calculated in Lio’s head, for four lines of text. The text is completed lastly, and rendered in red.
chwilio am y gwirionedd
dilynwch unrhyw lwybr
holl lwybrau yn arwain lle
gwirionedd yma
Written in Elven:
seeker of truth
follow no path
all paths lead where
truth is here
the poem is: “seeker of truth by –e e cummings
My exposure to Cheliax, courtesy, and formality was relatively limited. I am rarely formal, and when I manage formality, I lack sincerity. Please understand, thus, that I may not always understand what you mean, even though I understand the words. And that what I say may not sound beautiful, but is said with careful consideration.
She continues to work, then asks… ”Why do you still call her mistress instead of using her name? Even after all this time? How many…” She looks for the right word, ”owners …have you had? What was she... or they, like?”
She waits for him to answer, continuing to work. Eventually, when the time is right, she continues to commiserate. In Bis, …still Kaer Maga… the height of one’s balcony reflects one’s social standing and wealth. If you look outside, which is really.. inside, I suppose… there is not single source of light, but rather a waterfall of lanterns hanging from every balcony and window. It was quite lovely to look at.
The second man who ever owned me, Slamet Darma, was very paranoid about his status. He became greatly offended when he felt he was being overshadowed. In Bis, they say that if you shade someone, you are better than they, and they are less than you. Needless to say, when someone, especially a slave, stepped onto his physical shadow, he lost all control. After he beat the offending slave into submission, or did other… unsavory things to them, he would jump up and down on their shadow, to show how much better he was than they.” She almost laughs, at this recollection, like it was one strange, sad thing about a very cruel man. Eventually, I learned to keep a candle lit behind me at all times while I was working at scribing texts for him. It made me safe from his shadow obsession, because he liked stepping in my shadow every time he inspected my work. It’s kind of weird if you think about it, considering that meant that by my shadow falling on him, I was the one who was overshadowing him… but I guess it made sense in his head.
She stretches for a moment, then goes back to work.
Short sleeves so they don’t rub against the thread and frazzle it, or get caught up in the weave and ruin it. She voices her recollection. That was owner number 18… I have 18 and ½ slave tattoos. I don’t know if you can tell, but the last one is unfinished. She remarks, indicating the very top tattoo that kind of curves gently at the top of the left side of her face near her hair line, and stops just over her eyebrow. ”But we’ll be here all day and night if I keep talking. What about you?
