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Sichelgaita looks levelly at Samuel. "Andoran - the land and the people - would have my love no matter who ran it," she says. "But Andoran the ideal and the system has my undying support because, even if it's not perfect, it's honestly better than any other way I've seen or studied. I can't speak for everyone's motives for supporting Andoran, but to me the People's Council , for any flaws it has, is *easily* better than any God-King or Ruby Prince simply because it's chosen by the people, not through blood-lines or wealth or arcane rites."
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"Quieter?" Cuorecielo looks around, a puzzled expression on her face. "Well, this place is quieter than some I've seen, so it's good for singing. So, I'll drink to that." And she hoists her thimble-glass on high.
Sheliantha just smiles quietly, holding her wineglass up and nods to the others here. "I'm not used to government at all, unless you count family. Paying attention to things like that is new to me."
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Sichelgaita nods. "After your early life, you must have found things kind of rigid when you started working for the Cause," she observes. "I know *I* did, when I left Fusil and began training as a Paladin." She chuckles ruefully. "The last time I saw my mother, she said my hair was a microcosm of how my life changed," she continues, fingering the single, neat plait she keeps her hair pulled back in. "I used not even to comb or brush it half the time, much less tie it back. But when I came to Almas, and humbly petitioned to be trained as a Paladin of Iomedae and Saint Lymirin...it had to conform."She shakes her head. "How I ramble! What I was *trying* to say was, I know what it's like to change from a more free way of life to a life of order and rules."
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Jorvick chimes in,"Look at me drinking my fine wine with all my fine clothing and general pomp." Jorvick shows off his fine clothing and jewelry. "You would never guess that I grew up on the streets of Cassomir donned in rags, scrounging for food from whatever person would take pity on me or had enough to give and didn't have the wherewithal to hold onto it." Jorvick smiles devilishly at the last statement.
"But now I am a lord in my own country and I travel around the world. I also find I can help others now that I have money to do so unlike so many I met in my youth."
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Sichelgaita's eye widens slightly. "You're right," she says, respect in her voice. "I wouldn't have guessed. And it speaks well of your integrity that you use your self-made wealth to help others. Many who go from poor to rich do their best to forget their origins and pretend they don't exist." She grins suddenly. "But look where we are! I doubt that anyone is exactly who they seem, not among the men and women of the Pathfinder Society."
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The tattooed sorceress looks to the one-eyed paladin.
"I have to say, though, with me, what you see is pretty much what you get. Raised in the Caravan, travelling the world, and earning my tattoos. I am exactly as strong as I look, and have never successfully wielded a weapon.
"I do, however, try to do good where I go, help with orphans and the destitute and the like." Sheliantha shrugs. "Hopefully we can get to the actual source of real problems and enact permanent solutions."
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Sichelgaita refills Sheliantha's glass with wine, then offers the cognac bottle to Cuorecielo. "Hopefully so," she replies. "Though you prove my point. Although you say you're only as strong as you look...well, it takes considerable inner strength to do what we Pathfinders do, so I'd say there's definitely more than meets the eye to you. Of course, I only have one eye, so who am I to comment?"
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Cuorecielo waves her tiny hand in front of the offered bottle. "No thanks. Much more of that, and I won't see straight. I might miss something beautiful, and that would be a tragedy."
Sheliantha strokes the Lyrakien's arm with a finger and drains the fresh refill. "Enough for me too." She straightens up and looks into the paladin's one good eye. "I think I already said it, but you can see what you need, unless your targeting becomes off. Knowing who is your foe is an important part of the battle." Then she stretches a little. "I think it is time for something more nourishing than just wine. Might I treat everyone to dinner?"
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Sichelgaita blinks, then smiles. "Thank you," she says. "I have to admit, since coming here I've...had doubts. Am I in the right place, did I do the right thing coming to Absalom rather than simply strike out on my own? Or do I have what it takes to fight for the Society and my nation? But, after talking to you, I have to say I feel...I feel that I'm in exactly the right place." She reaches to her belt, taking out a worn leather pouch. "I'll admit to being hungry, and wanting something to eat besides dried trail rations. But I'll chip in - it'll feel good to spend my money on something other than bottles of Alchemist's Fire!"
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Sheliantha smiles to the paladin. "As you wish, though my caravan work keeps me well in coin. Shall we call out then, and have something brought here? Or shall we make a promenade and find us a place in which to try a new thing?" Her grin widens. "We could show Jorvick off through the City, in memory of our first adventure in Absalom, running errands for the Venture Captains."
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"If you could just give me a moment?" Standing, Sichelgaita disappears briefly. She returns shortly, having changed her half-plate for a black doublet with a white hawk printed on the front, white hose and a black cloak. Her sword still hangs from her waist, though. "My Neophyte clothes," she says, by way of explanation. "Pretty much the only 'casual' wear I own. So... Anywhere in mind, Sheliantha, or shall we just wander?"
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"Ooooooh!" sings out Cuorecielo, and the tiny winged girl flies up to the now less-armored paladin. She whips out a wand, and with an "Abracadabra", taps her new friend. "There! Now you can feel still strong and protected!" Then she flies over and around Sheliantha, landing on the sorceress' shoulder, and... disappears inside.
There's a chuckle from the tattooed woman. "You gave her a chance to feel useful, and I thank you for that. But, as to where we should go, I don't know. Someplace the rich folk go, I suppose, since I am feeling rich." She smiles to Jorvick, too. "Oh, I'm no local. I just am used to being in strange places."
((OOC: a blast of mage armor for you.))
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((OOC: thank you kindly: my character somehow lived through Darkest Vengeance, the idea of losing her on a message board was...troubling ;-) ))
Sichlgaita inclines her head. "She has my thanks," she says cheerfully. "As do you. I wish the two of you'd been in the party I had to lead into the Fenwall Mountains a while back." She sighs. "You'd have helped us immensely - besides myself and a Halfling Druid with a particularly fierce cat, there were five new Pathfinders, one of them a bard disguised as a rogue... which could have got us all killed when he checked for traps. We only found out when we got back, though in retrospect we should have known better than to trust a man named 'Humbug'." She chuckles ruefully. "Anyway, let us wander. It's a pleasant night and we can keep conversing while we walk."
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"Yes, let us wander, and not to the Puddles, or some such place." The sorceress smiles amiably, and heads on out. "Shepherding new agents is a bothersome task, I am sure, but a necessary one. I have done it, but more often, these days, I am called on by experienced members of the Society. Recently, while I was out, I had to fend off multi-armed monsters who live for cave-falls, and dragons of the underworld. I suspect that eventually those you have guided will become able agents on their own."
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The night air outside is cool, though the sound of the city about the group makes Suchelgaita chuckle ruefully. "One thing I can never get used to in any city - the noise. Back home, the only sounds you'd hear this late were night-birds and the occasional small animal. And the occasional curse as young couples out late injured themselves hurrying home in the dark, of course. Here...nothing ever stops, does it?"
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"Never stops," The sorceress nods, agreeing. "Though, Absalom has a rhythm all its own. Biggest city I've ever been in, though I have been all over Avistan, even to Oppara and Almas. I have to wonder how much of that is due to the Starstone being here. This place is more than just a bunch of people."
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'If you will excuse me'
Samuel Revell attempted to 'merge' into the traveling group.
'My apologies, I was lost in thought back on my seat. I hope you dont mind, you had the only conversation of note back there. I got a bit lost'
'Where are we headed to? Does someone want to take the Starstone test?'
Samuel looked slightly out of breath
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"The Starstone Test?" The sorceress looks back to the Cathedral of the same name. "I'd be overreaching by some incredible amount to be trying for that in this lifetime. I'm just a girl from Varisia, who has bee traveling Golarion. I'm no herald for a god, or hero of legends. No, we are just looking for a nice dinner."
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"Likewise," Sichelgaita observes. "I'm just a servant of my goddess, a hawk for her to loose against evil doers, not a legend of bygone days. But you're welcome to join, the more the merrier, as they say. She looks sidelong at Sheliantha. "Though you sell yourself short. I doubt that any mere 'slip of a girl' or any normal girl of Varisia would have the friendship of a Lyrakien."
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Jorvick snickers, "That doesn't exactly sound like my cup of tea Samuel. I'm not really looking to get worshiped. And anyways, I've still got a ways to go before I would even be up to the challenge."
"To answer your first question though, I'm just getting a tour of the city by these lovely ladies as I so rarely have time to actually take in Absalom the few times I have been here."
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Sheliantha shrugs at the paladin's comment. "I guess I tend to make friends pretty easily. Cuorecielo, she's... well, it's kind of strange. She says that I had been being watched, and she was the one who approached me. I don't think I did anything special." Then she ends with a rueful smile and looks to the two men.
"Absalom is like a home base to me. The Decemvirate is here, so the missions often come from the Grand Lodge. I do like being in action rather than sitting around, myself. Now, though, there is some time, so we might as well take in the City."
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She chuckles softly. "And then you get the mission from Old Dreng, and you know that Absalom is the place you most definitely do Not sleep!" She shakes her head and looks up to the sky. "Just after midnight, of all the times for a briefing."
There's a flash of a smile to the woman beside her. "Oh, there are many things of beauty, here in the City. Shelyn be praised. I think I'm going to be a patron of the arts, once I'm a Seeker."
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Sichelgaita's smile answers in kind. "There are indeed. A great many." She laughs then. "If you truly wish to be a patron of the arts, you *must* come to Almas. I have a feeling you'd like the Theatre District. Though it was fraught with perils for my fellow Neophytes - many of my brethren and sistren found themselves enamoured of particular actors and actresses, and used - in the best traditions of courtly love - to try serenading them beneath their windows, usually with guitars and severely out-of-tune voices. So, of course, everyone in the theatrical profession used keep a bucket of icy water beside their beds. Sometimes, they mixed dye in so the Lady Commander would know just who'd been breaking their curfew and could impose unpleasant penances. I had many friends who that happened to, including one who never could get the purple out of his hair."
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"Hmmm." Sheliantha pauses for time as they move away from the highest point of Absalom. "I suppose you could find similar things here, in the Ivy District. I haven't had much time to watch what happens after Curtain, but I'm sure there are stories to tell."
She walks on a while longer. "Really, about the only thing rare here is my own people. We tend to travel, but more by caravan and wagon than by sea. I should probably check to see if there is an encampment. Might be good to check on a Harrowing, to see how things might play out."
Another few steps. "Who knows, Almas might even be in the cards." She finishes with a throaty laugh.
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In gleaming plate and blue and white accented in gold tabard the very image of an Andoran Eagle Knight mounts the steps down from the upstairs private rooms.
"So it is my understanding that the undead are to be "freed" by whatever means necessary.
Tombs are to be purged of artifacts when evil and purged of evil when good.
And fellow Pathfinders that are "neutral" in name only are to be thwarted but not killed.
I apologize for my absence, the hills south of the Aspodell Mountains has been seeing an increase in incursions by my former countrymen. I have pushed the corpse of many a Chelixian naive from my lance the last months. Pah! I hate killing men."
He stops to draw a mug of beer from the casks behind the bar and takes a seat with his fellow knights to join the discussion.
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In a stunning robe of gold and lavender, walks in a beautiful female with a slight bird like appearance.
Ahem(clearing her throat). I'm Dame Kerline, newly appointed Captain. I was told to wait here while they get my orders
"Congratulations on your promotion, hon! Can't wait for our adventures in Koldukar!"
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Sheliantha flows back into the place with her dress billowing slightly after her. Her radiant smile is in place. "That was quite a night on the town." She announces to the room in general, and looks over those present.
"Welcome back, Sir Roland, and I do think you have it aright. Though, the term 'rehabilitated' might be better than 'thwarted' but then again, we can only do what we can do."
She looks to the other women. "Good to hear of your promotion, Knight-Captain Dame Kerline of the Eagle Knights!" the tattooed sorceress laughs lowly with merriment at her own use of the formal title, and looks to the other human.
"Koldukar. It has been a lot of work to get the information, and to gain the aid and assistance we will need, but I think that learning what we can from ages gone by will be worth the effort. The chance to help against the demon encursion is also something I look forward to."
She moves to the bar, requesting a glass of wine, from a good vintage.
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Any idea's on how to get rid of some of the dead weight that infests the Senate? I know of one that is well on his way toward a heart attack, but there are others that want to linger on after their terms are over.
I don't think we should sink to assassination (too Chelaxian) and our experiment in democracy would not survive a coup.
If there was a coup that led to civil war, who would benefit more? Cheliax or Taldor? I'd be willing to bet that someone from either of our neighbors is propping up or do nothing Senate.
Barkeep, a round for the house.
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~As Liran Ver'Ha~
A tall, blonde haired elven man walks in, red-dragon hide plate colored in the gold trim of the Golden Legion walks in, a tassel ribbon denoting Captain hanging from his right shoulder guard.
"A round on the house I think I heard?" he says, flashing a wide smile.
Taking a seat, he grabs a tankard offered to him from a barkeep, taking a deep drink, and setting it down.
"Corruption really seems to set in quite quickly in the human nations it seems. At least back in the courts of Kyonin it is a bit more under the surface. The only means to rooting it out is to bring evidence up towards their guilt, in a public court, so all the people may know. If this nation is to endure, it must endure its own hardships as well as those abroad, and it must stick to its founding principles."
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The red-haired Paladin limps in, the dust of travel still visible on her armour and clothing, and fresh scars visible on her face and hands. "Iomedae bless you, Lady Jaleel," she says, picking up the nearest available alcohol. "I've come from the Arena of Aroden, and things...didn't go well." She sinks into a chair, but not without a hiss and wince of pain. "The journey back didn't exactly help the healing process. But maybe alcohol will."
She drinks deep, sighs and speaks again. "Unfortunately, I think that corruption is something that goes hand-in-hand with civilisation," she observes sadly. "I do think that our system of government can *limit* it, since an elected representative can be removed from office, and doesn't hold his or her office forever - unlike, say, a kingdom, where the ruler is for life and the ministers serve at his or her pleasure. We still have our problems, though... An Osiriani bard I met recently was telling me some rather disturbing things about the Morilla family..."
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~Liran Ver'Ha~
"Alcohol helps a great deal. I do believe you should medicate yourself adequately." Liran says, grabbing a few shots of whatever the barkeep was originally walking by with, passing over a couple of the glasses to the red haired paladin.
"Not as good as a healing potion, but the numbing sure helps against the armor bruising we get standing toe to toe with the foes of the Abyss, lizards the size of this tavern, and religious zealots infused with demonic strength."
Liran follows this by looking at the shot, contemplatively with the ale, shrugs and pours the shot into the ale before drinking it.
"Ah...but some of us need to be there. To stop those threats from getting to our friends who are less adept at defending themselves. I see this as my job, both in reality and metaphorically. It is why I joined the Golden Legion. I defend not just the nation of Andoran and her interests itself, I also defend it from its self."
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There is a rustle, and then a small, winged figure appears, and flits over to Sichelgaita with a quite worried expression on her face. She brushes the paladin's cheek with one tiny hand, and flies up and begins a song. It's a happy little ditty from Darkmoon Vale, with the words changed to something children might sing on the way to a school. The Lyrakien's voice is a pure and sweet soprano, and carries well enough that any who listen in can hear, and feel refreshed.
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Sichelgaita sighs, feeling some of the pain and fatigue of the past days ebbing out of her. Even the pain from her still-healing ribs no longer seems so overpowering as the lyrakien sings, and she brings her forefinger up to meet the tiny hand. "Thank you, dear friend," she says, smiling.
She drinks again, and nods in thanks to Liran. "True. Though I failed miserably at defending recently." Her smile fades. "Damn it Daeven," she mutters. "Why did you have to go throwing yourself at that thing? You could at least have waited until I was healed again - I had more armour than you."
[OOC - in my last game, Sichelgaita was put into negative HP twice in the same fight, and a friend of mine lost the character he'd been gaming with for the last couple of years, who'd shared some of Sichel's early sessions. The actual event in the game was marked more with hilarity than anything else, but I'm RP'ing it as the loss of a good friend would be.]
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~Liran Ver'Ha~
Liran listens to the small lyrakiens song.
"Loss of a comrade in arms? Sadly for us mortals, that is a danger. Trust me when I say it is even harder outliving them. Many of my compatriots from the Peoples Revolution are in the ground, Pharasma making a bedside call. In the heat of combat sometimes things are out of our control, or people are lulled into a sense of safety. There have been several times I have had to use my blade hold my own back, less they take the unfeeling fist of a golem to their chest."
Liran raises his mug, "Here's to your compatriot."
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Sichelgaita raises her glass, with a smile of thanks. "To Daeven, the bravest Museum Guide I've ever encountered," she says. "Also the most resourceful - one day I must tell you about the schemes he masterminded in Riddleport." She looks at Liran. "I can well believe it," she says. "Losing my family and them friends in battle is one thing - the idea of outliving through age is...you're a brave man, to face it so well."
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~Liran Ver'Ha~
The tall elf walks into the room, his golden trimmed, red dragon scale plate somewhat worn, a few areas bearing a shallow gash.
"I need a victory drink!" he exclaims with a wide grin, taking a seat with a flicker of a wince.
"Nerosyan stands another day. Sarenrea damned demons attacked the Diamond City again. A mistake that they paid dearly for!" the elf exclaims, removing his golden, dragon shaped helm and setting it on the table.
Taking a drink he downs it all quickly, "Ah! Nothing better than a good drink to celebrate such an overwhelming victory! Myself and a fellow Knight-Captain of Andoran led a mixed-unit of our people on the offense outside of the walls! Andoran truly bearing the banner of freedom deep into the enemies ranks and planting it upon their smote bodies."
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"Again?" The sorceress inquires with a raised brow. She passes a bottle, while the tiny azata nearby does a flying stagger to bring a sturdy shotglass over from the bar.
"I had heard of the recent attacks, which included the loss of Kenabres, but what has happened now?" She leans forward, chin on hand, to hear the latest story.
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~Liran Ver'Ha~
Liran smiles at the azata and takes the proffered shot glass, "Ah thank you little one!"
Pouring the drink to the top, he tosses it back and slams the glass down onto the table top.
"Ah! Now, where do I begin? My sister, Glathel, and I were in Nerosyan meeting with some pathfinders on the situation in the Worldwound with a few other Andoran brothers and sisters, and another Knight-Captain who I have had the pleasure of fighting with in the past. Beautiful city, I must say, an amazing fortress! Being briefed for the upteenth time about Mendev and the worldwound, an explosion rang nearby!
My sister and I, having had the experience of many a surprise attack were quick to react. I was surprised and proud to see that my comrades were as well, and we became a fast working, coordinated unit lightning quick. The unit looked towards my leadership, and astride Uruvion, my loyal Axe-Beak, did I lead them. We moved against the demons wherever they appeared in the city, from the streets and chapels on the ground, to the air around the Worldwound Tower, where we bore the banner of Andoran, demons were laid to ruin. None could stand against us and our fast and determined strikes. My sister smiting a whole unit, sending them bick to the Abyss, my friend, Knight-Captain Akasha, her blade crackling with eldritch energy, and I dare say a minor amount of malevolence, striking down the demons with acid and fire, our ninja compatriot moving like the shadows, striking key targets I designate."
Liran takes a moment to down a mug of ale before continuing.
"We single handedly take back the Confluence District before we are directed outside the walls into the battle ravage outskirts. We take a position on a bridge leading into the city, working in the field to save as many of the crusaders as we can. My compatriots spotting them, and our wizard dimensionally teleporting them to the bridge for my dear sister to administer Sarenreas healing hand."
Liran frowns then, "Thats when those blasted Vrock commanders appeared. I have never seen more challenging a foe in my life, it was as if the Abyss empowered them itself. I led the charge against the first to appear, my holy lance striking deep into it, the beast cared little though, and in my surprise at its fortitude, my defenses waned and it fell upon me, its claws and beak cutting deep. It had some mythic power behind its blows, cutting through my enchanted armor as if it were paper, my wounds bleeding profusely. Our barbarian compatriot charged in to my aid as I withdrew to be administered to. The fight took a great toll, the creature emitting a horrible wave of energy and cutting into our barbarian friend. Finally it fell though, cut down by his great axe. Only to be replaced by another, and yet another! We held fast though! Defending the bridge from even further demonic reinforcements, I delved deep into my Golden Legion training, mounted atop my steed, did I relay orders to my compatriots, who in turn followed to the letter, taking demon after demon after demon until we had to wade through their corpses, fifteen crusaders did we rescue that day. As the demons retreated that night, we did plant the banner of Andoran on that bridge, not one of us bending, nor yielding. The demons did, that day learn of the power of the Eagle Knights, and I do believe shall think twice before facing us in battle. When we returned we did find ourselves the most decorated unit on the field of combat, taking the least damage, and destroying the most of the foul Abyssal horde. Sadly, other units did not come out so unscathed and we did lose many Pathfinder that day, including an entire unit of Seekers of Secrets to a great Woundwyrm."
Liran raises his drink, "But Andoran did lead the victory that day! To Andoran and the Eagle Knights!"
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"I had to defend a like bridge during the Seige. The 'Black Tentacle' spell served me well on that bridge. I still hate fighting magic resistant demons."
Jaleel continues to nurse her drink.
"My party was more than capable of holding a district. I did have to completely expend my first aid gloves, but I didn't buy them just for the 10 pretty gems."
"Barkeep, please top of everyone's glasses. And please, join me in a toast."
"Victory for the Eagle Knights! And to absent friends and those who fell in battle."
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Sheliantha nods sadly. "To absent friends. This WorldWound is a nasty place, and I am very gland the Society has decided to take a hand in assisting the crusaders there, even if it is only to open up the Sky-Citadel."
She sighs heavily. "Hopefully what we learn there will be able to help in the fight against the horrors."
Cuorecielo, the Azata, starts to sing, a beautiful, haunting dirge. The lament to the fallen in the pure, sweet soprano might strike a chord with those present. Any who listen find their burdens lightened for a while, so memory is not so draining.
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Absently rubbing a huge scar on her chest as she listens to the tales.
Muttering a soft curse. "I too have served my time in that beautiful yet wretched city. My entire unit was felled by a non stop flow of demons after we successfully destroyed one of their cursed clerics. The evil power behind that wretched priest was far greater than any of the demons, but we took him into death with us. A unit of seekers was kind enough to return our lingering souls to our body tho, sayin they owed it to us for keepin the horde at bay long enough for them to deal with a great wyrm. It was thru one of them that i was 1st inducted into our illustrious ranks, and in their honor i lead every unit with all the wisdom i can muster.
