Perivolt smiles wryly as Sable continues the strong stance on social reform he witnessed at his family luncheon. "Watch out, Korvosa. Change is coming and her name is Sable," he chuckles to no one in particular. He watches her with admiration.
Jessica L'Morie the Calamity of Scandal: Jessica's eyes brighten even further as she sees Audria's strawberry blonde head which is now rapidly growing hair and filling the space around her. She turns her gaze back to Dal with another award-winning smile and a little scrunch of her nose making her little spectacles dance.
"Thank you so much for all your help," Jessica says with such gratitude, one would think Dal had just returned from an epic quest producing Audria as proof of completion instead of standing there trying to control his gaze as the woman's bosom practically hits Dal's jaw, the frisky flesh jiggling for no discernible reason. She brushes her fingers lightly across the surface of his tunic as she speaks, and somehow Dal can feel the movement like she ran them over his bare skin.
"And what have I said to embarrass you, dearest Audria?" Jessica blinks innocently. "Are we not in the house of love where all expressions of joy and passion for one another is expressed? Surely, no one here is unaware of how we humanoids most frequently express our love for each other?" She slides around Dal so closely, it may be a dare to him to reach out and stop her. "Oh, look at all of this!" the attractive woman squeals with joy at Audria's overa-blonde-ance of hair. She reaches into her satchel and whispers some words, and, when she removes her hand, there is the slightest of luminescence encasing her fingers. She reaches down and gathers up the mounds which surprisingly do not fade into magic sparkles on contact. As she bends over to retrieve the threads of Audria's golden mane, some gasps are heard from those onlookers who stand in places where such a movement might produce a rather spectacular view. Some stand mouths agape while others look away as Dal had done. Most begin to mirror Audria's own crimson complexion while some—both men and women—get a hungry look in their eyes. Sister Jenelyn shakes her head with her eyes closed and, with no attempt to be surreptitious, clears her throat causing Jessica to straighten up and peer over her shoulder. When she's sees her audience she smiles sweetly and pokes a hand through the hair to wave at them. Could she really be so unaware of why this attention is given? "Away to your room, my sweet innocent darling. If you prefer for all your friends not to know all the wonderful things you need to know for your first time at a noble party. Is that not why I have been summoned? Brother Theolan's missive indicated I am to help prepare everyone for a gala at the castle. I remember when I was first invited to a magnificent evening of passionate dining and delicious dancing." Jessica speaks in such an innocent manner with wide eyes and a sweet tone, it's almost conceivable she doesn't seem to know how her words are coming across. Hmmm... Her eyes turn to Dal once again, and it's almost as if she's speaking directly at him. "It was a student mixer when I started at the Acadamae. Not quite a gala at Castle Korvosa, but I assure you those mages sure have incredible balls, using the magic of their staves, and lasting long into the night. I was indeed up for the challenge and I was determined not to settle for my first dance partner because we must try many dances to determine what we enjoy, no?" As she speaks, her voice seems to get softer, breathier until the last which is almost a whisper only Dal and Audria can hear. If Audria doesn't stop her, Jessica will launch into a rather precise and probably scandalous tale of her first dance. Most anyone who hears it will certainly think "dance" could be replaced with another word entirely... Regardless of Audria's potential interruption, Jessica will favor Dal with another cute smile and reach out a finger to flick any dangling strands of hair he may have showing. Raising her voice but yet still seemingly speaking directly to Dal "If you or anyone else attending the event needs a trim or a new styling for your appearance, I'm available." Again, the words are so innocently spoken...
Jessica L'Morie the Calamity of Scandal:
At the trill, Jessica's head snaps in Dalmano's direction. Whether she sees Audria or not, she immediately approaches the man and favors him with a brilliant smile. The buxom brunette leans forward unnecessarily giving Dal quite the eyeful while daring her dress to finally slip off entirely. Cocking her head, she brushes some stands of her hair behind one ear.
"Hi, there. Would you happen to know where I can find the young Audria? I'm here ." She winks at Dal. "If I don't find her soon, I might have to keep shouting about all the things I need to teach such as so she can hear me."
As evening approaches, there comes a knock at the front door of the Sanctuary of Shelyn. It is the handsome Hellknight maralictor and a contingent of his subordinates who will be escorting the party representing Shelyn. As weapons will not be permitted in Castle Korvosa, the Hellknights are there to see the party to the castle grounds safely. Once everyone is ready in their street wear with packs stuffed full of any fine dress, accessories, and cosmetics, Brother Theolan assists everyone in boarding a horse-drawn cart with simple benches for everyone to sit. Maralictor Georgiy barks an order and the Hellknights form a box around the horse and cart. The driver eyes them nervously but clucks at the horse who moves forward at a steady pace but not so fast the armored soldiers have any problem with keeping up. Korvosa is far from quiet. Ranks of armed soldiers seem to be everywhere with checkpoints at several intersections. The party is only minimally challenged as Maralictor Georgiy's aide is quick to run ahead and present documents with official seals before the group has even reached each them. Soon enough the massive ziggurat the Grand Mustaba is all that stands between the Sanctuary's delegates and the imposing Castle Korvosa itself. Covering the entirety of the flat-topped ziggurat of the Grand Mustaba, The Castle Korvosa is an impressive sight and one visible from nearly all corners of the city. For many this is as close as they will ever get to the monumental structure. Looking at it from here, the castle walls and spires rise high into the sky above and almost straining the neck to see it all. A large contingent of Korvosan Guard stand at the base of the massive ramp flanked by steps leading up the Grand Mustaba to the castle. the Hellknights maralictor and his aide approach them and begin conferring while the Guard cross-reference lists of their own. While waiting, Brother Theolan turns to the group. "I know this can be very overwhelming. I..." He glances up at the structure above. "I am still not used to it myself. Every time it's just as impressive as the time before."
A young woman named Merula who seems to know Audria appears sometime after Shrike departs. She offers to show people some of the basics of aristocratic table manners and how to perform the basics of bows and curtsies as dictated by the style of dress of the individual conveying the respect. While the actions of respect are easily taught, the labyrinth of forks and spoons and the timing of eating but with deference to the queen's actions are like a complex form of martial arts. Merula is convinced by Audria and Brother Theolan to join the group leaving for the castle. A second young woman also enters the Sanctuary sometime during the day. The front door bursts open, and she practically falls into the room taking several steps to catch her balance as if she was thrown into the room from outside. Time seems to stop as everyone in the main atrium turns to look at her in surprise. The woman's appearance is immediately eye-catching as ignoring her curvaceous frame is nigh impossible. Her hour-glass figure is emphasized by a pale yellow dress(?) which looks very much like a long shirt that's been belted around her waist while the bottom portion barely reaches mid thigh leaving perhaps a foot-length expanse of skin before the start of the open cuff of the tan high-heeled boots covering her entire lower leg including the knee. The boots appear fully functional, but the fabric seems thin and made of a material similar to suede. The top of the dress has the two thin straps meant to keep it in place on her shoulders, however they abandon their posts easily slipping down onto her arms leaving the fabric clinging to her ample cleavage with desperation and only the sheer size of her bosom prevents the dress from simply falling off of her. A small half-jacket, which has also fallen loose of her shoulders, covers her arms to the elbows and seems more like a fashion accessory than functional garment. Her long brown hair is cut to curve the ends around her face. That face is astonishing in its appeal: wide brown eyes with artful lining of black kohl, an adorable petite nose adorned with a pair of cute round spectacles almost on the tip, and luscious full lips which have a delicious pink color. She looks around in surprise at all the people staring at her. She bites her lip innocently as she returns their gazes looking from one to another. One of her well-manicured hands holds the straps of a bag packed to the brim with something. With the other she absent-mindedly reaches up to sweep one of her dress's thin straps back onto her shoulder. It promptly slips off again. "Um," she begins. "I was told to come here to assist Audria with " For no reason at all, the woman's voice gets louder before softening again. "My name is Jessica. Jessica L'Morie. I understand Audria " Again her voice increases for absolutely no reason when she says a certain phrase. Dal:
Please go ahead and spoiler any actions/conversations from the past with for any items related to the past going forward to help keep the timeline straight.
Harrowing - The Mute Hag, Part 3: Sabina Merrin sighed heavily as she was handed another report related to the festivities for the rather short notice gala Ileosa Arabasti had decided to have to affirm her control of the throne. The sheer amount of small details required to be overseen by the queen's staff was staggering, and naturally, Sabin's attention was needed on all items of security surrounding the queen's presence. Due, not in any small part, to the speed at which these details must come together.
The suddenness and the size was all a deliberate maneuver to keep any opponents to Ileosa's rule flat-footed and uneasy. If there is any chance members of the Peerage or the noble families did in fact have a hand in the unrest surrounding King Eodred's death, anyone not joining the event would be viewed with heavy suspicion. The agreement with the Order of the Nail had been very carefully worded to include protecting the Crimson Throne from fractious groups identified to be involved in the unlawful displays from the citizens in the past days. The precise wording hadn't been leaked because then clever minds would have figured out ways to argue it within the limits allowed by the Order's charter. Instead, vague and generalized descriptions of the agreement had been circulated to make the Peerage aware the Hellknights would be very problematic for anyone deemed to have a connection with identified insurrectionist activities. Looking at the pile of paperwork requiring her attention, Sabina almost wished she hadn't talked Ileosa down from her insistence on lashing out at that poor artist girl, Trinia Sabor. The banquet idea had become the obsession Ileosa had acquired immediately afterwards, but despite her success in redirecting the queen's fixation, Sabina had a feeling that door wasn't completely shut, and Ileosa would revisit the discussion before long. Sabina glanced at the report related to the list of attendee's attendants and their backgrounds, when there is a shy knock on the queen's study door. One of the servants helping Sabina sift the paperwork looks to Sabina for approval and after her nod, opens the door. "Ms. Merrin?" A young woman with pale hair brightening into a beautiful sea-green color at the ends enters the room. As usual, the slip of a girl's gaze darts around nervously still shell-shocked at finding herself here in Castle Korvosa before finally settling on Sabina's face. Even then a tinge of rose creeps into her features steadily darkening the more she spoke. "I-I'm wondering if I will be able to send word to my friends at the Sanctuary soon or possible go home for a bit. I'm sure they are worried sick about me, especially Audrie..." The girl's eyes widen suddenly as a thought occurs to her. "N-not th-that I-I d-d-don't enjoy H-her M-majesty's h-h-hos-pi-pi-t-tality, I-I-I-I-I m-m-m-m-m-m-mean-ean, I-I-I-I j-j-j-jus-*hic*-jus—" Her quiet voice begins to fade away even as her lips continue to move. Eliana was in the middle of a beautiful flute solo when word had come from the Castle about King Eodred's passing. As Sabina had known things would get rather tumultuous, she'd insisted Queen Ileosa leave and return at once from the party where the performance had been taking place. Ileosa had been rather entranced with Eliana's playing and insisted on bringing the young performer with them back to the castle, so she could hear the rest of the piece. There had not really been time since they returned for such leisure, and the poor thing had been sequestered in her room (mostly by choice) while the Queen's tailors and stylists had been fitting the girl for a variety of clothing and styles to be ready whenever the queen desired her to appear or perform. And now the dear girl was going to be the showcase of the evening's festivities. Sabina could almost feel the fear and trepidation pouring off of her. Rising from behind the desk, she moved across the lustrous rugs and reached out a hand to touch the pretty girl's shoulder. "There, there. You're going to do just fine tomorrow, and yes, I'm certain you will be allowed to speak with your friends. In fact, we've received word that Brother Theolan and a small entourage from the Sanctuary of Shelyn have accepted the queen's invitation, so you will be able to see them soon. Most likely tonight!" Eliana's shoulders sagged as relief seemed to fill her, and Sabina was sure the girl would have fainted entirely had she not been held up by the swordswoman's grip on her shoulder. "Th-that's wonderful to hear," came the faintest of whispers. "Now run along, and make sure Renor has finally finished your performance dress. And, of course, take as much time as you'd like to practice. Sometimes losing yourself in the pattern and the memorization can go a long way to calming nerves before an exhibition." Unbidden, Sabina recalls stepping onto a dueling square to quiet cheers and claps as she drew her saber and saluted her opponent. Eliana swallowed and nodded, as always looking directly into Sabina's eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Merrin." "Now, now. I've told you before. Just call me Sabina. I'm just a bodyguard. I don't have any flowery titles, so Sabina is good enough." "OK, Ms. Sabina, I mean, just Sabina," Eliana corrected herself when Sabina raised an eyebrow. She started to drop a curtsy then arrested the motion as her face heated up once again. Her mouth moved into some kind of apology then she dashed out of the door in embarrassment. Sabina shook her head even as she chuckled. There was just no denying how adorable the girl is, and she can understand why Ileosa has been inviting the young bard to their dinners. Dinner. Ah yes, the banquet. Sabina returned to the desk just in time to be handed another report regarding how to vet the serving staff who had been on leave or caught outside the castle when the riots began and hadn't been able to return. So much to do in such a short time. Sabina Merrin sighed again.
Audria's Dawn of Awakening: Bartholomew watches Audria's tears for a moment in silence, a sadness in his eyes as he knows his young charge has had a piece of her innocence torn away never to return. Kneeling, he gently reaches out and lifts her chin.
"Kiddo, everyone encounters things in their lives for which they feel directly responsible. Good, bad...sometimes that's just a matter of our perspective, and that will change depending on the day of the week, the weather, the sight of a keepsake...we just never know." Bartholomew brushes Audria's strawberry blonde hair our of her eyes. "What I'm not going to do is tell you how you should feel about something powerful enough to make you question yourself. Questioning yourself and your motives is going to be a lifelong journey since you're the one who has to live yourself after any of your own choices." His dark eyes look directly into Audria's. "Taking a life should never be easy, but how we deal with the feelings afterwards...you have to find that peace for yourself. Some folks turn hard, wall their souls off from the pain they know they've brought to the world. Others change it into something else, something they can see as a result which makes it worth it: art, song, teaching the next generation to be better then they think they were themselves." His own expression becomes a tad haunted here. "But let me tell you a trick my beautiful Olga always uses even now. Maybe you'll find something in it that helps." He turns slightly and puts his hands onto the dirt covering the street and begins to smooth it out, pushing it into a pile. "She bakes her pain away. I know you've heard her say it, but really think about it. She pushes her pain, her fears, her sadness right into the dough. She pushes and pushes, kneads and kneads working all of that hurt inside making that dough the holding place for all the darkness she feels and sees and imagines. Then when it's thick and heavy, she shapes it. Pouring it into pans or tins, pinching it, twisting it. Now she's in control of it. Olga owns that pain that sadness, but it's on her terms, it's the shape she made it to be not the hurt that was given to her. And then she bakes it, frosts it, slices it up, whatever she wants. She turns her worry into something delicious and beautiful. And when someone eats it and is happy and filled, she knows she succeeded, turning the sadness and stress into something that sustains instead of breaking us apart. She doesn't let her worry control her because she believes Shelyn has shown her a way she will always be able to master her fears and bake them away. And if the same worries appear tomorrow, well, that's why we need bread every day of the week!" He turns back to Audria and Talanaliel and dusts off his hands. "You are a good soul, Audria. It's not just me that sees this in you. Now you just need to see this in yourself. If you let your heart guide you, then you're going to find the path you should walk and it will be the right one...for you. Perhaps there will be pain and death along that road, but never forget the things that make you happy and smile as those will always be the reasons you make your choices, the people who love you and wish nothing but the best for you without asking you to compromise all the things that make you the you that they love." Bartholomew sweeps Audria up into his arms and hugs her close while standing and bringing her back to her feet. He whispers softly, "It won't always be easy, and sometimes life is going to hurt, but we keep moving forward, and we make the best choices we can. Just remember the times you're happy and pray to the gods they will be greater in number than the darkest days which always come."
So Pip has quit his former job, and no longer has current employment or a home. Got it. MurderHobo title unlocked.
Dalmano: The Cricket: The woman's brows furrow skeptically until the rough-and-tumble Pockets hops over the window railing into the room and approaches her with a small meow stopping about midway between Dal and the artist to sit placidly on a worn rug. It is covered in a now sun-faded floral pattern. She and Pockets regard each other for a moment, and then she looks back towards Dal.
"Well, Mr. Dal, you certainly have your hands full with this one, I'll bet." She cocks her head to the side. "My name is Trinia, and this is my flat." Trinia gives Dal a crooked grin. "Well, obviously." Then she looks thoughtful and glances at the ceiling. "Hmmm, maybe it's not so obvious. I guess this could have been someone else's flat or even just an art studio." Dal can see the one-room flat is filled with several canvases of finished and work-in-progress paintings scattered throughout. Also, many of the flat surfaces have piles of papers covered in sketches and notes. Quite prominently, above the small messy bed against the wall opposite the easel is a painting of two attractive women in simple acolyte robes bearing the symbol of Shelyn. They face one another with their far hands up clasping the other's with their fingers interlaced, but their faces are turned towards the viewer. Perhaps they were dancing. The one on the left has strawberry blonde hair held back in a tail with a length of ribbon. Her eyes are bright blue and and she appears to have been caught in a moment of laughter. The other has a small shy smile, her eyes seem squeezed shut in a moment of pure happiness. Her hair is pale with traces of a light green throughout like the color of sea foam floating on the edge of a retreating wave. It is the only painting actually hanging anywhere in the room, and the skill of the artist is quite evident. The light on the women's faces and the shading of colors prove the painter has talent. While Dal had had been observing the room, Trinia continues speaking. "It probably does seem more like an art studio now that I really look at it. I mean it is, but it's also where I live, so I guess it's more of an art flat? Anyways, I usually just call it a studio. I'm not really sure why I called it a flat when you came in since that's not typically what I say, but I suppose I was just surprised to see you. I wasn't sure if I should I scream or not, but I haven't seen or heard anything about a killer who brings his cat to the crime scene, so it all felt much less threatening once I knew this is your cat—" Trinia directs her attention at Pockets again and without looking reaches for a sketchpad on short table nearby and pulls a charcoal pencil that had been behind her ear the whole time. She begins making marks on the page which Dal cannot see. "—and well, I have a feeling you're not really all that dangerous yourself since you had the decency to be embarrassed and all. I mean, if you were a killer or rapist or some kind of thug, I doubt you would have repeated your name three times only to settle on a nickname in the end. When anyone asks for my name, I just say 'I'm Trinia!' and that's that. My friends are a bit more shy though, and sometimes Audrie cannot even look a body in the face half the time, but she can say her name with a little stammer. Ellie will just freeze up entirely while staring the person down, her eyes getting wider and wider. It's pretty funny, actually, so I like to make sure I introduce them to a lot of people they don't know. They are quite the pair; one looks you in the eye and shuts up while the other looks away and stammers and stumbles over her words but gets it out in the end. Mirror opposites in the ways they are exactly the same. Does that even make sense? Ha ha! Sorry, that's just my artist brain trying to make sense of those two in a way I can explain it to others. Oh, don't get me wrong, they are great. Super great. My bestest-estest friends in all the world. When we're together, they aren't shy with me at all. They like to sing and dance just like I do. That's them right there!" The blonde woman gestures to the painting on the wall above the bed with the charcoal pencil. Trinia continues to make marks on the page of her sketchbook while looking at Pockets and occasionally glancing at Dal. Her continuous chatter is almost without any pause, and she sounds cheerful and affable.
Pre-Hell Night, 11 Desnus: : Silver Sven takes the chicken leg from Pippip, his eyes wide and clutches it to his chest along with the sandwich. "But if I eat it now, I might not have anything for tomorrow!" he gasps when Pip encourages him to eat.
Dalmano: The Cricket: Dal feels what's probably a paw swat the bottom of his shoe and realizes Pockets is giving off the impression of safety. Trusting his familiar, Dal drops onto the compact balcony without much trouble, and does his best not to think about the fact it's barely 2 feet long, providing just enough for him to stand comfortably before the cursory railing dangles over the street a few stories below. Pockets looks at him with big feline eyes, sitting there next to the card calmly. As Dal bends down to retrieve the card, he hears a woman's voice behind him in the room into which the window leads.
"Uh, who are you?" Turning, Dal sees a young woman with very short blonde hair, brown eyes wide with surprise sitting at an easel. She's fairly attractive and dressed in comfortable clothes covered by a smock currently splattered with a great deal of color.
Just as the winds calm before a storm, so to was the odd silence of the preceding days akin to the Hell Night as 11 Desnus would soon be called. The roar of the riots and the activity of the mobs explodes as the moon rises; Korvosa burns with an angst as maligned citizens take to the streets to violently protest the ascension of a ruling queen who openly despises the lower classes. Surprisingly well-coordinated attacks on those guarding The Line (the area considered under control) approaching City Hall, the Acadamae, and Castle Korvosa erupt around the city. And in the face of the mob, the Korvosan Guard and the Sable Company are vastly outnumbered as well as hampered by knowing these are their neighbors, friends, perhaps even family who fight against them hoping for change. Can the natives of Korvosa truly prevail against their own kin or will they fall without the heart to maintain the status quo...? The answer is to remain unknown. Enter the Order of the Nail. As if waiting for these very events of disorderly and savage actions by the citizens (perhaps precisely that), the Hellknights march into Korvosa in astonishing numbers. And where the other law enforcement bodies held back, Hellknights do not even remember how. With brutal efficiency, the mobs are quelled and scattered; their spilled blood and broken bones a testament to the terrible and powerful doctrine maintained by the Order of the Nail. By dawn, the sounds of riots and the mobs and fighting are gone, leaving only the wailing of mourners, the smell of smoke and blood, and the sound of a thousand marching feet. Harrowing: The Bear:
For the first time, the Sanctuary of Shelyn and its makeshift barrier are attacked, but the Hellknights are quickly on the scene. For an additional Harrow point, roll for 3 rounds of combat and use them to describe how you contributed to the defense before a squadron of Hellknights descends and disperses the attack. For Shrike and Gregor who may not be present at the Sanctuary, describe a possible attack either to your home (perhaps some former rioters trying to escape a full rout by the Hellknights) or to which you intervened in the streets prior to the arrival of the Hellknights and their armigers.
This is not required if you do not wish as usual, but since you all seem to enjoy flexing those creative muscles, I figured most of you will do it. :)
Tibold carefully looks around the area. "Didn't we see a similar statue in the Assassin Garden earlier?" He peers carefully at the elf woman figure. He scrunches his nose in thought. "You sure this ain't Iomedae? What race was she before she got godlified? I never really paid attention in Sunday School." Tibols Searches while holding his reloaded crossbow ready to fire if more enemies appear.
Does this mean Audria's Profession (Cook) is really -4? :P
The Mute Hag, part 2: Ileosa's vision was crimson as she snapped the delicate stand for sheet music recently placed in her study. After the filigreed holder crumbled in her hands, she swiveled this way and that before realizing there was no longer anything breakable remaining in the room. Sabina stood by at attention, concern on her face.
"He was going to replace me!" she shouted at Sabina for the hundredth time. "That strumpet artist pet!" "Is that what the paper said?" Sabina asked gently knowing full well it did not. Ileosa growled. "Well, not exactly. But a dress? Eodred commissioned a dress for her?! What else could that mean? He only started giving presents when he thought he was in love." The audacity of that womanizing bastard! Ileosa could feel her blood heating her face and neck. She knew her marriage had never been about love, but about their lusts: his of the flesh and hers for power and wealth. She allowed him to climb on top of her whenever he wanted and to parade her out as the trophy she was while she gained prestige and power. In backwater Korvosa, Ileosa is more than the nobody noble's wife she would have been back home. But what would have happened if he had divorced her? She had never gotten pregnant something a young and nubile female should have been able to do...Ileosa's lip trembled, and she sat down quickly on one of the salon chairs displacing the rubble of a ceremonial tea set previously displayed on a now mangled stand. Tears began streaming down her face. "I-I-I thought I was hic, hic the prettiest w-w-woman in Kor-hic-vosa. Why w-would h-ic replace m-me?" Ileosa blubbers. Sabina looks crestfallen and rushes to her queen's side, perching next to her on the plush chair. "My queen, you truly are the most beautiful woman in the city. There's no one who can compare." She pulled Ileosa to her breast and let the queen sob into her tabard. After several moments, the queen pulled away and took a deep breath. Her eyes were puffy and streaks of her ruined make-up ran down to her chin. Yet even now the glow of her natural (supernatural?) beauty was obvious. "You're much more comfortable when you're not wearing that plate," Iloesa said coyly her eyes containing more smoke than the burning city districts. Sabina knew that look well and leaned in placing her lips to her queen's firmly letting her desire be known. Ileosa let Sabina take the lead, and sometime later, among the wreckage of the queen's sitting room, two naked females lie intertwined sweating and sated with pleasure. Ileosa traces a finger on the scar across Sabina's face given to her in a duel sometime in her past. "Will that always be the consequence of aging? Any other young beautiful girl will steal the hearts of the people away from me?" Ileosa asks in a small voice. "Will you ever want to replace me? Could you ever become bored with me?" "Never, my queen, my love. Never!" Sabina replies instantly, tilting her head to look Ileosa in the eye. "I will do anything you want to prove it." Ileosa resumes tracing the scar. "Anything you say? If only I had even more gorgeous creatures like you Sabina. Scarred yet with a beauty I can see and that I know will love me best." She sighs. "I know that now that Eodred's dead, I don't really have to worry about him replacing me as his queen, but thinking about it just...with all these rumors that I had something to do with his death, that I usurped the throne when it's mine by right, I just can't help but..." Suddenly, another thought occurs to her. A terrible possibility that makes her suddenly suck in air hard threw her gritted teeth. What if that trollop Trinia carries Eodred's heir? "My queen?" Sabina said with concern as she felt the sudden tension in Ileosa. "Anything," Ileosa says softly, "You said you would do anything to prove you won't abandon me." "Yes, whatever I have to do." Sabina's reply only betrays a hint of her nerves. What could Ileosa be thinking? Ileosa slowly traces the scar on Sabina's face yet again. A wicked gleam appears in Ileosa's eyes as a beautiful smile replaces the angsty pout from earlier. Regicide, they claim? Oh, I'll give them a king killer. I'll destroy all their plans to bring me down in one simple move. "We're going to recruit, my dear sweet Sabina. Find other pretty women who understand the value of not bending their necks to these pompous and insufferable self-made patriarchs. They'll be loyal to me and be willing to prove it, just as you have. And one more thing..." Sabina watched her queen while trying to keep the alarm off her face. "Bring me Trinia Sabor."
Here are my answers: 1. I like both dogs & cats, but as an owner, dogs are a more reliable personality as cats can run the gamut; with cats you can end up with a lover or an a&##%~@, and you'll never know until they stop being kittens. I like my animals to cuddle, so I've only ever owned dogs, but I love to hear/feel the purr of my friend's kitties. Well, the ones who are actually friendly. Usually there's at least one "oh, you'll never see her" in their feline collection.
Sven nods. "Knowledge of their place of isolation is within my vault of information." He taps a thick finger to his temple. The lack of a metallic ting! is almost disconcerting. "I will lead you as the tremors of Earthfall led the dwarves." Audria detects no more Evil inside of Pockets than any other street cat...which may or may not console Talanaliel...
Completely unrelated...
I own this t-shirt.
Since we're not playing around a table, none of you could hear the GM cackle I was making as I wrote Silver Sven's dialogue. IYKYK
Less of a retcon, and more of a "I did this thing before that thing." Though I'd say if you want Pink to live, screaming at your teammates may gather a bit more attention than you desire.
Perivolt smiles as Graykos runs off to find his mother Maka. Quite suddenly, Perivolt looks exhausted and sways slightly as if overcompensating for a heavy weight just now removed. He blinks and seems to remember the rest of the group. "Forgive me, my new friends. I've forgotten my manners as host," he says with a tired smile. He flags down the attention of one of many house servants moving about. "Constance, please notify Roland to have a room readied for these lovely ladies. This stalwart dwarf will stay with me in my room. Please send word to us there once their room is ready." He glances at everyone's appearance. "Please have baths drawn up and then a nice meal prepared for my friends and me. Something hearty and filling."
Perivolt seems about to leave and then pauses as if recalling something. "Oh, Constance. Please keep this fairly quiet, if you will. I'd like to freshen up before the inevitable questions come." Turning to the party, the wizard gestures for them to follow him out of the kitchen and through the ornate halls. Everywhere they walk, the signs of wealth are evident: magnificent tapestries and artwork, furniture with gilded edges, even the working staff have finer clothing for the uniforms than the average Korvosan's entire wardrobe. More confounding sights present in the Ornelos household complex are the obvious signs and applications of arcane magic. Floating arcs of light appear in several places indicating locations of staff or the estate's inhabitants "ringing" for services. Familiars and conjured summons of all kinds move through the hallway with their own tasks or can be seen guarding access to areas of the complex. Part of the journey leads through an elaborate courtyard and garden area also teeming with wholly wasteful use of magic spells and rituals. Perivolt finally arrives at a very lavish wing and leads the group to a surprisingly cozy room which must in fact be his own. Documents and sketches are pinned all over and lying across most surfaces. Glowing arcane magic connects points on a sprawling map of Korvosa which all appear to be places related to Gaedran Lamm. The team is now assembled in the heart of Perivolt's personal search for Graykos and his evident abductor the now deceased Gaedran Lamm.
Tibold isn't certain what shocked him more: the sight of a blinded ogre fumbling around the room, or a blinded ogre almost sliced in half with an electric blade. He begins to wonder if the electricity on the edge actually assisted in the cutting...he shook his head to re-organize his thoughts before he could start planning the experiment. This is no time for that. There are ogres and assassins everywhere! The alchemist gives Edoom a thorough look. "Edoom, dear chap, you look different." He glances at the halfling attached to his waist. "Ah, I'm betting you're what all that hollering was about."
Alright, team. Got up a post waiting for your input which can be hashed out here out-of-character or in-character in the Gameplay. Plus a little bit of fun advancing the little sub-plot-leading-to-the-main-plot I started a while ago. I hope you enjoy!
The Mute Hag, part 1: It took everything in Queen Ileosa Arabasti's power not to drum her fingers on the arm of the throne. Before her stood archlictor/paravector/something -ctor/who really cares? of the Order of the Nail droning on and on reading aloud the terms of the contract the Hellknight order and the Korvosan throne had just completed. When Something -Ctor finally finished, the armored man looked up at her to confirm consent of the terms. She make a swift flick of her fingers and her bodyguard Sabina Merrin produces the royal seal and offers it to Togomor, the bloatmage she has playacting seneschal since Neolandus is missing. The disgustingly puffy and sweaty figure reaches out a cream puff hand practically engulfing Sabina's in his own while taking the seal from her.
Ileosa fought down bile at the notion of the man's touch, and reminded herself to make Sabina wash her hand—no, arm as soon as these proceedings were concluded. For her part, Sabina only barely allowed her lips to compress slightly as the slimy looking butterball removed the seal to stamp the contract offered by the Hellknight. As soon Togomor removed the seal, Something -Ctor produces a long nail, more like a spike, which then turning to one of his subordinates who holds up a square piece of wood, slams the nail piercing the top of the contract into the wood. The man drives the entire length of the nail through in that motion and the force nearly impales the nail through the wood into the armor of his assistant, stopping just short much to Ileosa's disappointment. That would certainly have lent a little bit of fun to these dull proceedings. Even from here, Ileosa can feel the nail radiating with a pure divine power derived from the Lawful planes. Being out of her control, the nail made her skin crawl, but it made the terms immutable and unchangeable except by great and powerful magic. Without a word further, Something -Ctor and his retinue of Hellknights and armigers turned and departed; the assistant handing Togomor the wood containing the contract for Korvosa's record of the agreement. The Order of the Nail had no need to keep it. They knew precisely what is agreed upon and would not deviate from it. All at once, their greatest and most infuriating quality. Ileosa sat stoically until the last Hellknight had left the throne room, and her attendants had shut the doors. Then she allowed herself to droop with an explosive sigh of relief. "Oh, my dear Sabina, this part of being in power is absolutely the worst!" she bursts out with frustration. Her bodyguard lets out her own small sigh and gestures at Togomor to disappear. The man's beady eyes glances at the queen and he shrewdly departs with the contract wood with a simple nod. "My queen, I know you wish it could all be balls and fine parties, but now that both your husband King Eodred has passed and Seneschal Kalepopolis is missing there is no one else capable of performing these duties...unless you wish to turn to the Peerage." Sabina braced herself for the inevitable fury. "By all the Dukes of Hell, no!" the snarl erupting from the extraordinary beauty seems so out of place, one would wonder if the queen was possessed by a demon. "This throne, this city, this power is mine now. Those cretins won't get an inch from me." Ileosa's full lips twist in displeasure and yet still look kissable and worthy of desire. Was it any wonder there are artists aplenty submitting requests to paint and sketch the form and face of Queen Ileosa Arabasti? She abruptly holds out her hand, and Sabina quickly takes it and helps the queen stand gracefully as otherwise getting up from the throne could be a somewhat clumsy experience in her beautiful full-skirted emerald gown. Sabina leads the way eyes checking all the corners of even the most familiar passages until they reach Ileosa's private sitting room. As they enter Sabina sees a sealed scroll tube very conspicuously placed in the center of the Queen's writing desk. "It would seem your special eyes and ears have returned with the answer to your inquiry," Sabina says quietly. Ileosa waits quietly as Sabina approaches the tube and allows Sabina to be the one to open it. A simple slip of paper appearing to be a receipt unfolds from within. To confirm no spell triggered by reading has been cast, Sabina glances through the contents before looking up at Ileosa and giving a nod. The queen approaches and imperiously offers a hand into which Sabina nervously places the receipt. As the she reads the contents, Ileosa's face begins to match the color of her beautiful dark red hair, her beautiful visage twisting into a rage Sabina had anticipated. "" Queen Ileosa screams. She grabs a porcelain vase on an end table and hurls it across the room. Sabina cringes and watches quietly as the powerful fury living in her queen erupts and the room quickly becomes a maelstrom. Sabina swallows a sudden lump in her throat. Something terrible is about to happen...
Most of the group awakens to strange calm in the city of Korvosa. The smell and sight of smoke still hangs in the air over the tops of the buildings in different directions, but something seems quiet for the first time in a few days. As usual, the Sanctuary starts its day early. Small groups of Shelyn's faithful come nearly every day and while not always consisting of the same folk, a smiling priest/ess leads early morning prayers asking for the blessing of their goddess to quell the sudden rage of the city and let love blossom once more. With all the extra mouths and hands, the small kitchen gets an even earlier start on baking bread and making preparations for the mass production of the Korvosan/Varisian breakfasts staples. A new rotation of those manning the makeshift barricades is implemented while those on night duty take their turn in the temple's now cramped sleeping quarters. For those of the party who returned before the morning bells, two surprises await: the Hellknight armigers posted to the barricades have been recalled and are no longer present, and Lina Derexhi, the half-drow sorcerer, has departed. A note she left with Jenelyn Trover details how finally achieving a conclusion with Lamm, she's found a desire to investigate her own origins which she already knows will lead her into a far away place deep into The Darklands. She wishes everyone luck as they seek to defend their home and realize the destiny of which Zellara has spoken. Also absent is the imposing but now familiar figure known simply as Shrike. However, she never returned to the Sanctuary that night, and she had already announced her intention to seek out the remains of Zellara and the fortune teller's son for ceremonial burial. Perhaps she will return soon enough. A contingent of Korvosan Guard appears and stops by the Sanctuary to speak with Brother Theolan and the other citizens essentially in charge of the organized neighborhood. Unlike the Hellknights, they are very impressed with the setup and provide compliments as well as a few pointers regarding the operation. Through them, the group learns the Castle is still on a fairly secure lockdown, but there are chances this will end soon as whispers have surfaced Queen Ileosa has recently reached a decision on how to handle the current unrest and begin to return the city to normal. Group Decision Time:
Everyone minus Merula/Shrike should discuss and vote for one of the following:
Audria:
Brother Theolan and other Shelynite clerics see your wounds and attribute damage healed, but Theolan warns that he will not be able to provide such free services in the future. It's not fair to give preferential treatment to some when other unfortunates may need Shelyn's mercy. Merula in The Gray:
Merula will naturally find a Pharasmin priest fairly easily. With a successful DC18 Diplomacy, she can reduce the cost of 2s for each body to 2s for both to be placed in the Everyman's Ward due to the rather small amount of actual body needing to be interred. If Merula would like to remain in The Gray for the actual interment service, she may. If she chooses so, Merula/Shrike will likely not return from The Gray in time to take part in the daily activity selected by the team unless they choose Charitable Works or possibly Harebrained Scheme (which depending on the scheme could result in the group being at the Sanctuary on Shrike's return). If you return immediately and directly without making any other stops, Merula will make it to join the team for the day by a hair. Also, keep in mind aside from Audria, most of the group would not likely recognize you in your current state of disguise. Prepare to roleplay accordingly if you make contact by arriving in time to join or when they return from daily activity or other encounter. Dal: I'll get to you, no worries. How I introduce you will entirely be based on what the group decides to do.
Minor correction: Shrike went to Zellara's, then spent the night at home, then went to the Gray early on the following morning. For the purposes of indicating where everyone is now, her trip to Zellara's wasn't germane. :P
While I'm never going to say "No" to anything your PCs want to attempt, I will mention that it is well known that The Gray may be seen as a somewhat dangerous place to visit at night which it will be by the time you arrive. It's possible you would not find a temple or mortuary-type place open for business at that hour. You're certainly welcome to seek lodging at an inn or hostel catering to those in the area for funeral services and what not, but the actual burial (well, legitimate burial) of the deceased may have to wait until the next day. However, your plans for what to do may be different then the usual. You are PCs after all, and everyone knows PCs rarely do what's expected or the norm for the average citizens. *eyes impaled bodies of Lamm's gang* :P
Given your other purchases and relationship to Garrett, I'll say the GoodBarrels threw in an empty crate at no charge.
As I promised weeks ago, we will be moving into a more exploratory style of posts as I will summarize daily activity(ies) with chance of random encounters leaving you to post narratively your own individual nighttime activities per cycle. After a few of these "days," the option to approach Castle Korvosa will come available which will lead us to another section of more focused RP within the Castle and the delivery of the royal brooch. If anyone has questions, please let me know.
Sure enough several younger halflings who bear a striking resemblance to one Garrett Goodbarrel erupt from all points around the street and rush the rogue who (apparently expecting this assault) deftly dodges with acrobatic twists and agile maneuvers. The young halflings laugh and give Garrett a run for his money until he finally relents clasping many of them in an obvious big brother hug. Once the many younger Goodbarrels have gotten some attention, they lead the way to Barrels of Goods, a shop which specializes in providing tools of all shapes and sizes grouped in—what else?—barrels. Garrett's mother is behind the counter, and Garrett introduces the crew before excusing himself to give Lady Goodbarrel the moldy ledger full of Varisian cyphers since he's convinced she will be able to crack it and find the evidence they need to free his father. The party is left to their own devices for a while and constantly pestered by the younger Goodbarrels who might be siblings or just cousins to the Rogue they've befriended. As the shop is full of many mundane tools, shopping for such items would be possible here if desired. Soon enough Garrett returns from the back of the shop leaving the ledger for his mother to examine. It's currently mid-afternoon, and returning to the Sanctuary of Shelyn the group would arrive in time for early services and be able to assist with dinner preparations.
Also: He told me had seen me in a dream! That's something I hear often, so it wasn't shocking." Pure gold right there.
Alright, I'm going to go on my own for this one since I haven't heard back from Garrett. Look for an update later this evening.
I will try to get something posted later tonight. Over at family’s for BBQ.
Talanaliel's features seem to soften despite remaining just as birdlike as before. She stretches out a wing from her perch on Audria's shoulder and lightly brushes her feathers on Audria's cheek. "Oh, my little hatchling, sometimes it's hard to remember just how young you are. What has Brother Theolan taught you? What does our goddess wish for us to do for the people, for the world? Give love. Spread love. When people are frightened, afraid, and lonely, they need us to show them someone cares and someone will shoulder their worries with a smile and that beauty can even be found in the darkest moments and love will save us in the end." She retracts her wing and bounces to Audria's head. "You keep asking about how you're supposed to feel, if there's something wrong with what you do feel or how it should affect you." The thrush swivels her head. "You forget you were chosen to worry less about yourself and more about others. To champion the love Shelyn has for all living things. Those people over there need assurance. They feel alone and worry over what comes next. The city's in chaos, and maybe the sight of Gaedran Lamm and his goons is but one small drop of stress in a large pot full of it, but that's the one about which these simple folk are concerned. And you are forgetting that. You're focusing on your own feelings. Letting the conflict of what happened and your part in it take over your senses." She hops down to Audria's hands and looks up to Audria's confused face. "Yes, they died. Yes, you and your new friends caused it. But you saved children. I'm not telling you how to feel about it or whether the deep down reasons you did it were the right ones. But the root of your actions was to face a man who had hurt people you loved, who could potentially hurt more. And that same man has affected these folks here. They too see this as a moment of uncertainty. Yes, some are happy, some worried, some just looking to make sense of it." Talanaliel give Audria's thumb a peck. "You have more love than you need inside you. It's why you were Chosen. Keeping it all for yourself is the only thing you should never do. That's what I mean when I say you're feeling sorry for yourself. You should feel some sorrow and empathy for others and remember when they need you when they don't even know it." The thrush's eyes seem to glisten and for a moment Audria can see the winged woman from her dreams in them. "You may not be ready to face yourself when it comes to both the satisfaction and horror you may feel towards what happened to Lamm, but them...those people only needed someone to love them enough to ease their hearts. Whether you admit your own part in the tale or simply relieve them of the worries their minds are creating with a generality of the adventure, it's more than they have now. You are greater than you know. Greater than you're willing to admit to yourself right now." She pauses and glances around. "The time for you to shine may not be now, and I'm not telling you to change your mind today. I'm simply here to remind you of the path you've been given. It's up to you to walk it, but it doesn't have to be right now." She cocks her head and looks at Shrike. "There. A much longer-winded way to say the same things about feelings and actions. Our little bird sometimes needs the food chewed for her to get everything down." Shrike is certain Talanaiel winks at her.
Talanaliel cocks her head to one side as only one with a bird-like body can and asks, "What precisely horrifies you? The sight of the villains' remains on display in that gruesome manner, or the fact that not one soul is concerned they are dead aside from what it might mean for the safety of the community and their own peace of mind?" She pecks a strand of hair from Audria's face. "Ironically, you could have given them that peace of mind, little paladin, and saved everyone from their stress and worries, but you're still over here feeling sorry for yourself."
Don't sweat it, my fine champion. Hopefully Edoom's 'girlfriend' from the other game will make a reappearance. Then your character will have plenty about which to tease him.
"Hey Brightberry, we need a target. We don't have a lot of room, so it will be precision instead of distance. Maybe something the size of a playing card. May I borrow a leaf? Preferably a really bright one?" Tibold finds this request funny. All the random oak leaves and other items in the courtyard, and the professed bandit hunter asks the sentient plant for one of his body parts. What boldness! See the other fellow in the coat, The many vials and pouches and small containers definitely seem to mark the man as an alchemist if not as trade than as interest, Iradyiel calls to him. "Hey, do you happen to have a glue or a chemical we could stick a leaf to one of these oak trees?" As he approaches the man, he smiles. "I'm Iradyiel, the little fellow is Brightberry and our two competitors are Edoom and Lyra." "Hmmm?" Tibold suddenly realizes the man is talking to him. He blinks at the champion a few times while he rewinds the words in his mind until he recalls speech and what they mean. "Glue? Yes, I have some adhesive." Tibold rummages in one of his pockets, and produces a small jar bound on top with a piece of fabric glossy with some type of treated coating and tied with twine. He unwinds the strings to display an odd thick looking gray paste. "Oh, and I have a name, too, Iradyiel. Just like you and the little fellow, Brightberry and your two competitors there Edoom and Lyra." He gives an awkward half smile, pleased he'd feigned social affability. So pleased with himself that he's completely forgotten to actually state what the name he has is.
"If I may sir, how long have they been up there, and why haven't they been taken down? Surely the Guard have more to worry about right now then cleaning up this mess? I mean no disrespect sir, but it's not like the Guard is very active in this neighborhood any other time. Surely sparing these citizens from the stench alone is worthy of disposing of the remains in a timely fashion?" Berkel dips his head a bit. "Aye, they don't come 'round here too often, but it's not like we have too much commotion out here. When murders like this get put on display, we've every right to ask for somebody's inner-vention!" He nods to himself seemingly proud he used a big word he heard somewhere. Dame Falzwurth scoffs, "Aye, aye, double aye, indeed. You know very well they don't come round 'ere cos of all the 'grease' along some palm skin doled out on the reg'lar." She gazes on the bodies buzzing with sea flies with a satisfied smirk. "'Twas always jus a matter of time 'fore somebody got their 'ands dirty for all the right reasons."
She returns Pip's wink. "Oh that they should. Whoever's here to clean up the trash that's been let to rot too long on these docks best take note." The burly worker raises an eyebrow, "What do you know, Dame? If you ain't preening like a Mwangi parrot waiting for a mate, I'm the lost heir of Azlant. If you know who did this, you best be sharing so we can get this under control." The crone rolls her eyes at the implication. "Oh, Ragan, what I didn't tell you? It was divine Aroden himself, back from the Beyond, here to clean up the docks." Her tone is quite beyond sarcastic. "He plucked up Lamm and his cronies to be spit on there pikes just before he climbed into my bed and made me feel young again. Let me tell you just what a god can do with his hands..." Ragan groans and Berkel begins to furiously scrub his bald pate while Dame Falzwurth trails off into a coughing wheezing cackle at the two men's discomfort.
Shrike: Shrike overhears a few different groups speaking about the Old Fishery. Some speak of several wild theories of how this came about, the most notable one being discussion of a bird-headed figure seen at the scene before vanishing into the night air. Arguments are given for the figure having been an exotic Tengu or Strix to Abraxas himself with reasons ranging as simple as a heist gone wrong to the invasion of a new crime family all the way to a cult ritual attempting to summon a second Worldwound. Naturally the latter was only espoused by one particularly crazed looking person who is so mangy and dirty, their race and gender are indeterminate.
One of the men turns to Lina with a worried expression. A badge of office indicates him to be a dockmaster probably even the one assigned to this stretch. His brown hair is balding on the crown, and he nervously scrubs at the bare patch as he answers the half-drow; the shine of his skin is almost distracting. "A murder's been done, and no one really knows why!" He sweeps a hand toward a building down the planking. He is clearly indicating the site of the team's foray against Gaedran Lamm: the Old Fishery.
"No one knows why? Don't you spout such lies, Berkel" a very plump and wrinkled old woman spits between the spaces in her few remaining teeth. She points a crooked finger at a particular body so mutilated it is almost unrecognizable. "That right there is justice! Well earned and at ain't no one going to claim otherwise. 'Cepting you and anyone else who won't be getting their cut no more!" The wizened old crone cackles as Berkel has the decency to look a bit embarrassed. "I-I have no idea what you mean, Dame Falzwurth," Berkel sputters. "But we don't know what happened, or how they ended up like this. Whether it's justice as you claim or just a crazed murderer, we need the Korvosan Guard to investigate! We could all be in danger." "This happens right as the rest of the city goes Groetus? No way that's a coincidence," barks a burly man with arms as thick as Pippip's torso folded over his barrel chest. He states decisively. "Someone's using the chaos to make a play or get their vengeance. "
Sorry, between work and finalizing my move (it's been a long process and should be over this week), my time's been super limited. This weekend really slipped away from me, and I went to bed early a lot. I know momentum keeps a game going, and I've been bad about that recently. Don't give up on this game! I promise it's not a lack of interest on my part, and my life will calm down shortly. Not dealing with any kind of personal burnout or anything, just a combination of work being heavy plus a lot to do after working hours to get my former residence ready for final departure. I promise it will get better!
Sorry I have been MIA. I’ll try to get caught up and get some things posted soon.
Barricade:
The Guards look impressed that Shrike is handing over the shiver doses. The administrative soldier writes up a note that entitles the bearer to redeem it for 500gp at the Bank of Abadar . Flyer: The flyer mentions the term generous reward without spelling out exact details. Admittedly, the flyer seems to be aimed at proprietors of jewelry shops and other purveyors of fine and expensive goods who may encounter folks attempting to sell or fence the brooch rather than the typical 'Wanted' type poster for fugitives or adventure quests.
As Abella and Pippip talk of how the party's potential contact with the royalty of Korvosa could catapult his business, he nods greedily and provides a generous amount over what the items are likely to be worth.
Post frequency:
One metric all the guides to PbP from the best seem to agree on is posting frequency is the most important. My best ongoing games had a daily posting rate, but I reluctantly agreed to relax that standard. It definitely takes me out of a rhythm which was five times a week at the same time in the morning for me.I am totally OK with your daily posts. But we need to understand your expectation of those posts' content. Poster domination:
Another problem with not posting is PCs that post more dominate the game. In our case, our most frequent poster Brightberry by a significant margin is a character that does not forcefully take the lead because the character as just not that type of character. While I haven't necessarily displayed it here, when time permits, I can post circles around most people. But typically, I like to interact, so my posts are designed to receive a response and therefore leaves me at the mercy of the poster to continue. If it just me, I could have Tibold RP with a cactus for hours, and as long as it pricks him every so often to prove it's still there, he could carry the conversation for a long time. I submit my first several Tibold posts which included all of his inner monologue, one post in particular creeped Remis out. However, I want interaction, so I'm basically self-regulated. If we need to "cap" posts relevant to the story/GM post/etc. to one per person per GM post, that's fine with me. I can write up 20 flavor posts that mean nothing if feel like it and my ticket queue allows it on a given day, but understanding that's just for me will allow me to know what I can and need to include in my 1 player post per GM post (if we settle on something like that). We could introduce "a tell," a specific sign off at the bottom of a post to signify our character is ready for GM response/advancement post, so you can know our roleplay from that point forward is just to kill time or whatever. Wilderness or Oleg's:
You're not wrong. Saoirse stated we should go to Oleg's. Tibold didn't disagree with the decision just made it clear he wanted to get his wagon. I realize, I should have expressed at list in OOC that Tibold agreed and Oleg's had his vote. I kind of assumed you'd assume which is my bad. Edoom - Not the {bad} guys: Edoom makes good points. And yes, the not good guys was not my plan, but players wanted to have evil characters. It has turned out the only evil character really was an evil character that became an NPC. So I can see your confusion about how the not good guys credo can be confusing. I don't think you have seen anyone in the group be anything but a good guy. As far as "not good" goes, I would place the party's alignment, as a whole, as CN. We all seem to be after our own goals and the band of misfits just kinda came together to help each other get there. The title "not the good guys" is interesting because typically it's used as the foil for it's opposite: good guys/bad guys = good/evil. So if you came into this thinking everyone's evil...no, that's the incorrect assumption. Here, the term "not the good guys" means we're not running a paladin's code where anyone feels obligatory actions to help/save/self-sacrifice for anyone we don't feel like. We are literally just not the Good Guys, but we're also not the Bad Guys (unless we just decide to be). Please don't think anyone said "Burn it down!" with the zeal of an arson. We were literally describing burning down abandoned, empty (per GM's description and no one's desire to investigate to the contrary), vermin-infested buildings. The idea here was simply to remove potentially usable facilities should the orcs & co. return. We were ordered to remove the enemy base of operations. Burning down all the buildings and sabotaging their entrance into and out of the mine at this location was, I thought, a well-considered solution to the task we were given. It was definitely not just an anarchist, let's-kill-and-burn everything-cuz-we're-eeeeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvuuuuuuuuuul kind of answer. I hope this helps to clarify what's pretty much been our status quo as an alignment.
Korvosa's Inheritance laws and politics:
Perhaps I misspoke when I said "pseudo-medieval" I should have said "pseudo-medieval/feudal." The exact concept I was thinking is called Mukoyoshi and it was and is an accepted method of adoption in Japan to allow inheritance to a male (since gender was the key not blood) with the family name.
I believe a similar concept existed in Roman society where once adopted, the child was considered an equal member of the family and again, thanks to our forebears discrimination against those who are female, only males could inherit. So again another culture less about bloodline and more about gender. Korvosa's royalty's inheritance laws are not described, but if one reads all the history, it becomes clear bloodline appears to have been given the most weight for succession, but with no other conditionals. We also have a powerful Seneschal and the Peerage Review (heads of the ruling noble houses in Korvosa). For me this opens the door to the ruling monarch naming or adopting an heir because, well, nothing says it's disallowed. If a spouse can inherit the throne (canonically true in Pathfinder's Korvosa), why can't an adopted child? In the brief window in which Domina had not yet arrived to claim her throne, Korvosa was initially faced with a lack of an Arabasti heir, and the throne would have moved to another of the ruling houses, presumably at the dictate of the Seneschal and whatever jockeying of power occurring within the Peerage Review. I imagine this as an extremely loose interpretation of Britain's constitutional monarchy: royals, Prime Minister (House of Commons), & House of Lords. It's indicated that when the royalty of Korvosa was established, the Arabastis were given their title at the pleasure of the Seneschal who was the only person with the actual power to strip them of the title. Yes, Domina did some backdoor legislation to get this power removed, but all in all, the monarch still relies on the support of the Seneschal (who controls the Sable Company) and presumably to some degree the Peerage Review who can countermand orders given to the Korvosan Guard (who also serve the Church of Abadar). Again, what's this long-winded talk have to do with anything, Spirit of Pinvendor? Simple. Think of the Korvosa riots akin to the January 6 United States Capitol attack. Some citizens want to keep Ileosa from taking the throne for [insert crazy/radical/revolutionary/imagined/maybe justified] reason here. They are making their voices heard to the people who could prevent it based on legal challenges. Is it a good way to do it? No, just like the real world actions I referenced.
@Shrike: The actions of some Korvosa's citizens do not speak to all, nor does this mean anyone is "surprised." They just don't like it. If my descriptions have somehow given you the impression a well-organized full scale rebellion pitting the entire civilian population of Korvosa against the current entrenched regime and their enforcers, I'm sorry. While I have GM'd a portion of Hell's Rebels, that is not intended to be this game. Real world health/life expectancy from fantasy health/life expectancy: This is actually one of those really infinitely debatable topics. It's very hard to get in the mindset of a someone who grew up with the kinds of things available that are described in high-fantasy worlds. As you will discover if we achieve Book 2, the notion of someone with means to avoid the "petty" concerns of illness is truly an expected thing in Golarion.
As far as burning the out buildings—again unless I somehow misread what the GM told us—it was intimated they were all empty and decrepit with infestations of various types of vermin. We weren't here in search of a McGuffin nor under any impression there were captives or any other such thing. Like a government covert ops team, we were acting on the intel our information brokers gave us (the guard captain and the druid). Neither one provided any warnings of such need for caution nor did the one NPC Edoom encountered who seemed much more interested in a spontaneous tryst than her or anyone else's safety. For me, that all lines up with our reaction: "Nothing here really matters (to our characters) + the safest and fastest way to complete the objective = Profit!"
Sylvan: "Focus on making your new friends flowery or fruit-bearing types. I promise they'll be pleased as punch to have them around."
I was told not everyone may have wanted to post daily. I could be wrong, but I think you may have potentially misunderstood. I believe the intention was to communicate to you that not every player always responds to a post if they don't feel they have anything to contribute or will otherwise alter the scene not that they are unwilling to post daily. Personally, I've always felt "posting requirements" in PbPs are kind of self-defeating. If I, as a GM, make a post that only addresses only 1 or 2 players or targets a skill which only a couple characters have or one character who posts before another executes the Skill better than that other character could have, there's really nothing for those players to do except await the GM's response. I am not surprised when the other 3 don't put anything up for more than 24 hours (the posted daily agreement, etc.) if the next round of posts is essentially waiting on me. I think of "posting daily" as "check the thread at least once a day to see if your character's input is required or could add something (especially if combat is occurring) to the scene." Not that I will see a post with each character's alias on it every 24 hours. If we are not happy, I can understand. Real life gets in the way of posting every day. If it is time to call it, we can call it. This should be fun and not a chore. Posting as Tibold is fun. It's the confusion on what's happening which also dribbles over to the other players not really responding to Tibold as they also wait to figure out what's going on which is a chore. And I'm not accusing the other players of ignoring Tibold, but rather that they sometimes seem to take a breath to see if you're going to respond with something before committing to responding. I really think we've just gotten into a really strange pattern and the group's confused, GM and players, and what signals the time to move on and the time to continue the existing scene. Especially when not everyone's posts seem to acknowledge each other's actions or posts are made thinking we are in the same locations, conversations, and such only to have that turned around unexpectedly. We just haven't been very good at communicating with each other. Maybe we need to start spoilering our posts with timestamps Morning: or narrative descriptions of events Tibold asks Brightberry for some of his body's leaves to make Remis and Tibold examining Tertuccio's footprints: or just some other way to make it clear how and when things are happening, so we can all react to the right things, and keep our place in the timeline of your posts, GM Tribute.
"Paimon = Emergency Food!"
"Ha-ha-ha!" I don't know. I'd like to see things work, but if no one else is interested in a discussion (I see you, Brightberry), we really don't have much to more to try.
Hmmm...I like that post, Abella. Some great dialogue. Just might have to give your 18 an increased crit range... Let me think about that.
Essay on Korvosa and how it arrived at this state:
Thinking about politics in high fantasy worlds is a little weird. The ones that make sense are ones like Geb, old Nex, Razmiran, Irrisen and the like. Ones who have either immortal rulers or a mechanism which replaces the current ruler.
I say that because with magic artifacts, rituals, and stuff like the Sun Orchard Elixir existing in Golarion, no ruler should ever actually die. The fact that they do is kind of strange really, and at a certain point ruminating on it starts to break the immersion. However, certain magical realities are taken for granted, like disease. People with enough power and money should basically never have to fear this thanks to divine magic. People may know Ileosa is next in line for the crown if the king dies due to her marriage, but on the face of it, no one really expected it. The alleged 'Curse of the Crimson Throne' is 'an infamous superstition claiming that no monarch of the city of Korvosa shall ever die of old age or produce an heir.' What the AP description doesn't mention is just how young the monarchy of Korvosa actually is. The first monarch was crowned such in 4633—only 75 years from the current date. There have only technically been 4 (possibly 5) sitting royal rulers, all (except possibly 1) related by blood (Arabasti). The so-called curse, ironically, is more of a taproom gossip joke given that none of the sitting rulers coincidentally ever produced any heirs while crowned and all have died from conditions not considered normal aging. The Curse of the Crimson Throne isn't an actual curse per se in that we can trace it back to ye olde Scarzni woman who was served bad soup at Eodred I's coronation party back in the beginning. The Curse is more like a conspiracy theory you find on Facebook when someone watches all the Avengers movies and points out things like "Every time Tony Stark makes a mistake, he fixes it the next time" or "Just like Thanos told him, all of Thor's attacks in Endgame are at the head." Basically, while people have noticed the similarities, it's not an understood agreed upon 'thing.' But, Spirit of Pinvendor, how does that relate to this situation of unrest and violence over Ileosa becoming queen? Because no one expected it would ever happen. While he would have been the first, people are more likely to have assumed Eodred II would eventually produce or name an heir. Maybe even adopted since that's a pretty common method for acquiring an heir in pseudo-medieval society which makes sense in Earth history given how easy it was to die back in those times. No one would have ever considered it possible that a king could actually be killed by a disease because of his ability to acquire divine magic protection. TLDR; The Curse of the Crimsons Throne isn't a verified thing, and no one ever thought Ileosa would become queen (as a ruler over just a consort).
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