PTU: The Beast Within

[MesiDoomstalker]

Besides this post, I'll be doing an individual post for each person. I'll try to wait till everyone posts, but since this is Solo games I may just post as I get time to post. You can find me on the pad I sent you guys, you'll more likely to find me there than me responding to PM.
Fawkes
Weildon's face was flustered with the heat and bustle of the Jousting event. He was located in the stables where the Ponyta and Rapidash were held and prepped for the jousts for the day. FAWKES! Fawkes, I need refreshment! It was midday, and even in the shade of the stables, it was sorching and the Master of Ceremonies was sweating profusely, threatenign to stain his lavish outfit. I must look proper for the Jousts, Fawkes!

Tarn
It was late night in the City of the Gods. You had been on the road since early morning and reached the city in the late evening. You had been to half a dozen taverns and hotels and all have turned you down. Some because they were legitimately full, other because you lacked the funds for their lavish rooms. By most denied you because you lacked the 'finery' they thought needed in such a place as the City. Have you found us a room yet Son? I'm fit as I once was but a man's gotta rest eventually! Your father's belly aching had only increased after every place was turned down.

Saminra
The room you found yourself in was dim and smokey, completely blocked off from the scorching desert sun. You were seated on lavish pillows of fantastic purple and gold, a comfort you have rarely felt. Across from you sat the heir prince, Ehbrim Abdulai. The young prince face was marred with worry and fear, emotions he rarely showed to the public. It was not suiting of someone of his standing to face fear. In a low tone, barely more than a whisper. I have called you here on a matter of the utmost secrecy, Saminra. No one, not even Spymaster Toarin or my Uncle may know of it. Do you understand this, Saminra? Commander Myrani sat beside the prince, her face stoic. There was the slightest hint of annoyance in her eyes. It was no secret that the Myrani and Ehbrim are at odds politically, in regards to the Barrir. Her presence here, in the secret meeting can only mean the situation is dire.

[Arcran]

With a curt nod of his head Fawkes quickly acknowledges his master.

"Yes master," he says, forcing himself to bite his tongue and say the latter word with as little emotion as possible. That word was a constant reminder that, while he was in the court, he was nothing. A simple steward, nothing more.

Fawkes quickly leaves the stables, giving the flaming horses a passing glance as he leaves.

To be honest, the portly Master of Ceremonies wouldn't even truly look good. The face was forever locked in Fawkes' bank of a mind, every mannerism, quirk and oddity of the man securely stowed. A man of his size would never be truly good-looking although Fawkes supposes they could make him look a little less like a greased pig.

Fawkes, for his part, was sweating as well. He didn't have the high quality clothing of some of the nobles and, despite his lithe build, the heat was getting to him. He quickly looks around, trying to remember where he had seen a refreshment station.

Using Photographer to add Weildon to my Profile Album. 5/6 AP left for the scene.

General Education for water: [roll0]

[Ajadea]

Everything still hurts. The deep bow required from a commoner in the presence of royalty had sent twinges up Saminra's spine. Even after three days of scrubbing herself and everything she took with her, she's not sure if she's ever going to stop smelling like Gogoat. She hopes it's not noticeable. Prince Ehbrim's hands are tense and clasped - no doubt to keep them from shaking. She keeps her eyes carefully averted from his face, as courtesy dictates, but she does not need to be able to see his face to feel the fear rolling off him like waves. Between the commander's simmering annoyance, his Highness's worry, and her own roiling anxiety at being in a room with the both of them, the smoke-filled air in the room could be cut with a knife. Saminra shifts slightly on her pillow. "I understand, your Highness," she replies in a low murmur. If Toarin could know, he'd be here, surely. Or she would have received this briefing in his office, for that matter, not in this room. But secrecy from even the pharaoh? And such fear. She doesn't even dare to consider the possibilities.

[weirdsound]

"The last place wanted 1000 gold for a night. If I wanted to settle in this holy cesspool." Tarn answers, more than a bit annoyed himself. "There is a reason I usually skip this tourist trap, and travel straight to Corus when coming from the wastes."

The Wanderer briefly digs through his pockets, and fiddles with Daggerteeth's Pokeball, contemplating sending the Onix out. "I suspect we can make do by getting out of the city and setting up camp for the night. Roughing it in these lands is a lot more easy and enjoyable than roughing it back home. Alot less deadly too. We can all pay our respects to the gods and do our shopping tomorrow."

Tarn then looks up to examine the clouds. The price of the room, his experience outdoors, and the quality of his tent all meant that little short of a typhoon would cause him to reconsider his camping plans...

[roll0]

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
With haste, you dash from under the shade of the stables into the blistering mid-summer sun. The trips is short though, as the tent containing food and refreshments for the staff and Jousters was only a stone's throw away. You could still see your portly master quite easily. As you grab a glass, filling it with water from a large cask and scooping ice, a luxury rare even by the standards of the Court, into the glass. Weildon pulled out all the stops for this event, including obtaining a few Vanillite to provide ice. The attendant at the tent, a young women by the name of Marryl, whom you are rather acquainted with whispers in your ear. Whats Master Lard gripping about?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
The prince waved his hand, smoke swirling but doing nothing to clear the air. Formality and courtesy are not needed here, Saminra. Please. He gestured for you to sit up right. The reason you were called here, Saminra, is because the Prince and I, despite our differences a hint of edge creeping into her otherwise icy cold voice believe the throne is danger. And we want your help in ferreting out who seeks to threaten it.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
The wind was picking up and the outlines of looming clouds were off in the distance. It would likely rain and thunder soon, though the intensity and duration you are not sure of. The weather this far south was so much different than the Frozen Wastes, it was difficult for you to tell. Well at this rate, you might as well pay them! We've been traveling for too long, Tarn. A man needs his rest! A touch on your arm from Meredith showed her concern as well. Before you could respond, you heard the distant sound of screaming.

You see waves of smoke raising from somewhere to the south of you, the same direction the screaming is coming from.

[Arcran]

Fawkes looks at the Vanillite in the sun, trying to keep his face flat. One of those would fetch a huge price with the right people, but Fawkes soon puts the thought out of his mind. Information was his trade, not petty thievery.

"Master Weildon," he says, the sarcasm subtle enough that most wouldn't notice, "is not enjoying the weather, of course," Fawkes states, giving a tired look. "I'll bet you a gold coin I'm back within five minutes," he says, knowing that the odds of that were heavily in his favor.

He gives her a casual nod as he carries the drink back towards Weildon, knowing extremely well that tardiness and chit-chat would cost him dearly. Weildon was not the one to tolerate that sort of behavior and, while he wouldn't mind talking to Marryl over the cool refreshment stand,

[weirdsound]

Tarn looks up, knowing full well that Smoke likely means fire. "...There is smoke with those screams," he announces for the benefit of his father, "if it is a fire, Daggerteeth would be ideal for a rescue. I have to go."

He calls the Onix out and squeezes Meredith on the shoulder, before digging into his coin purse and producing five coins, which he presses into the woman's hand. "You two find some strong tea, and perhaps a warm meal of something other than salted meat. Then meet me by the North Gate. Unless somebody offers me lodging out of gratitude, we ride until dawn or the rain stops and find a place to set up camp. We can rest for several days then, and build up strength for the next leg of the trip."

Climbing onto the back of his massive mount, the rider looks down upon his family. "And take care of each other for Groudon's sake!," he adds, knowing that the pair will need both eyes and a voice to track down food and drink - teamwork.

Tarn then nudges the Onix into motion towards the smoke...

[Ajadea]

Saminra slowly looks up. This was getting stranger by the minute. She doesn't like informal environments. Courtesy is a scaffold of social interaction. Without it, things become unpredictable. "Of course," she manages, biting back the 'your highness' at the last moment. Her gaze flicks around the room before settling, somewhat awkwardly, at a point just above Prince Ehbrim's shoulder. "I will not allow anyone to threaten our empire, nor your uncle." The Sassnid and their sympathizers? Or over-ambitious nobles seeking to overturn the line of pharaohs? Either way, she would likely need to report to Bahna in order to keep an eye on Pharaoh Idrissu. Fare on another boat would not be difficult to manage, though she dreads boarding another so soon.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes looks at the Vanillite in the sun, trying to keep his face flat. One of those would fetch a huge price with the right people, but Fawkes soon puts the thought out of his mind. Information was his trade, not petty thievery.

"Master Weildon," he says, the sarcasm subtle enough that most wouldn't notice, "is not enjoying the weather, of course," Fawkes states, giving a tired look. "I'll bet you a gold coin I'm back within five minutes," he says, knowing that the odds of that were heavily in his favor.

He gives her a casual nod as he carries the drink back towards Weildon, knowing extremely well that tardiness and chit-chat would cost him dearly. Weildon was not the one to tolerate that sort of behavior and, while he wouldn't mind talking to Marryl over the cool refreshment stand,

Weildon hastily grabbed the ice cold water from your hand, downing it sloppily. Despite trying to avoid getting his outfit wet, more ended up on his chest and rotund stomach than in his mouth. Good Fawkes, very good! However we have a dilemma! Sir Zairon's tabbard has, ahem, combusted. You obviously forgot to buy the flame retardant cloth! Of course you remembered, but Weildon insisted you use an inferior cloth to save on costs while he pocketed the rest.

Weildon dumped a small burlap sack into your open palm, which clicked with coins. From the weight, you wager most of them are gold coins. Go to the market and purchase a new tabbard template! Sir Zairon's joust is in the evening, we can still salvage this disaster of yours if you hurry! However, there was no rush. Nobles in jousts always had a template of their crest ready in case the inevitable burnt tabbards happen, it take no more than half an hour to sew it to the new tabbard.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn looks up, knowing full well that Smoke likely means fire. "...There is smoke with those screams," he announces for the benefit of his father, "if it is a fire, Daggerteeth would be ideal for a rescue. I have to go."

He calls the Onix out and squeezes Meredith on the shoulder, before digging into his coin purse and producing five coins, which he presses into the woman's hand. "You two find some strong tea, and perhaps a warm meal of something other than salted meat. Then meet me by the North Gate. Unless somebody offers me lodging out of gratitude, we ride until dawn or the rain stops and find a place to set up camp. We can rest for several days then, and build up strength for the next leg of the trip."

Climbing onto the back of his massive mount, the rider looks down upon his family. "And take care of each other for Groudon's sake!," he adds, knowing that the pair will need both eyes and a voice to track down food and drink - teamwork.

Tarn then nudges the Onix into motion towards the smoke...

The street rumbled and cracked beneath the rock snake, bits of cobblestone flung behind you. If not for the hurry, Daggerteeth could avoid damaging the road as such, but now was not the time. It took only a few minutes to reach the heart of the city and your heart sank. The air had gone from a balmy 65 of a summer's night to a frigid 0. Snow was falling from the sky, though only one lone cloud hung over the city, centered directly in the center. Only one thing could do such a feat.

ABOMASNOW! The cry was unmistakable. As you rounded a corner, hail began to pelt you and Daggerteeth mercilessly. You quckly find a large open square, lined with large opulent cathedrals, their stain glass windows being pelted, chipped and cracked with the hailstorm. In the center, stood a massive Abomasnow. It towered over 10 feet tall, its massive arms crashing through a now-frozen fountain that sat in the middle of the square. Scattered throughout the square looked like snowmen of terrified people, attempting to run. The Abomasnow turned as you arrived, bellowing a challenge.

Tarn is first, then the Abom, then Daggerteeth. A note on releasing mon; Summoning Sickness (being unable to act when released) only happens when a pokemon has been returned and then let back out. So releasing Twitchy would allow it to act this round (also after the Abom).

Daggerteeth has taken 1 round of Hail damage (1/10 of his Max HP) and will continue to take damage till he is returned. Tarn has his Winter Cloak and is immune.

And for the record. You can win this fight without loosing a pokemon. I wouldn't do that in your first battle! Maybe the second, but not the first!

MAP! (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/15aGrNE8bcVczvaqTLBpzJtEYScusGJNv2-u26jWreH0/edit#gid=1294595830)

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra slowly looks up. This was getting stranger by the minute. She doesn't like informal environments. Courtesy is a scaffold of social interaction. Without it, things become unpredictable. "Of course," she manages, biting back the 'your highness' at the last moment. Her gaze flicks around the room before settling, somewhat awkwardly, at a point just above Prince Ehbrim's shoulder. "I will not allow anyone to threaten our empire, nor your uncle." The Sassnid and their sympathizers? Or over-ambitious nobles seeking to overturn the line of pharaohs? Either way, she would likely need to report to Bahna in order to keep an eye on Pharaoh Idrissu. Fare on another boat would not be difficult to manage, though she dreads boarding another so soon.

The Prince's fear seemed to lessen at your reassurance. This assignment will be like nothing you have taken before, Saminra. We believe there is a plot to kill the heir Prince and the Pharoh. And we fear we do not know the scope of this conspiracy. And that is why we task you with this. You see, we have, uh, suspicsions that the conspirators may rank in the higher echelons of Carthak. If this is true, and whom, we do not know. This is why Spymaster Taorin may not know. He... he may not be trustworthy. And the same can be said of you, Saminra. Commander Myrani's eyes bore into you with a cool intensity, her gaze broken only by a quick peek at the Prince, who visibly flinched as her eyes darted over him. You do not have the connections or ties to the politics of this country to receive a direct reward from a change of power, but you are no less vulnerable to bribery, coercion or treason. And it is for that reason we will not share any more of what we know. Or don't know.

[weirdsound]

Tarn casts his eyes to the ground. He knew little of the gods. He couldn't even name any other than Groudon or Regice, but he had always thought that they would protect their city from such things. Abomasnow, this large and this far to the south... Not a good sign. Not even close.

Not having much time for reflection, Tarn grab's Twitchy's Pokeball, and gives it a good hurl! "Twitchy, Think quick and use Flame Burst!"

The Numel pops out of the Pokeball, promptly and correctly interprets the situation on the field, and unleashes a good sized puff of flaming air at the walking tree!


Tarn uses a Shift Action to let out Twitchy at J10!
Tarn uses a Standard Action to use After you on Twitchy! Twitchy goes next!
Tarn gives command to Twitchy!

Twitchy Moves to L10 and uses Flame Burst on Abomasnow! AC roll made in OOC Thread!
Damage Roll: [roll0]

[Arcran]

Fawkes is forced to physically bite his tongue to stop from snapping back. Insults, the occassional slap, those were fine. But blaming his own stupidity on Fawkes? That always made the minor noble angrier than it should.

"Yes Master Weilon," he says simply, making a show of rushing away, rounding a nearby corner.

When he's out of sight he slows, shoving the coins deep into his pocket as he makes his way towards the market at a leisurely pace.

[Ajadea]

So... not in the minor nobles or the Sassnids, but the very lords who the pharaoh trusted most. And with such power, anyone could be in their pocket. Turned by promises of power, of coin. Their own suspicion of her was expected, but still somehow disappointing. And yet, they chose her. That surely means much in itself. "I assume I will be reporting directly to you then, Commander?" She can't even begin to fathom calling the stern commander just 'Myrani'. It seems entirely wrong. So she doesn't.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn casts his eyes to the ground. He knew little of the gods. He couldn't even name any other than Groudon or Regice, but he had always thought that they would protect their city from such things. Abomasnow, this large and this far to the south... Not a good sign. Not even close.

Not having much time for reflection, Tarn grab's Twitchy's Pokeball, and gives it a good hurl! "Twitchy, Think quick and use Flame Burst!"

The Numel pops out of the Pokeball, promptly and correctly interprets the situation on the field, and unleashes a good sized puff of flaming air at the walking tree!


Tarn uses a Shift Action to let out Twitchy at J10!
Tarn uses a Standard Action to use After you on Twitchy! Twitchy goes next!
Tarn gives command to Twitchy!

Twitchy Moves to L10 and uses Flame Burst on Abomasnow! AC roll made in OOC Thread!
Damage Roll: [roll0]


The fire ripped through the tree pokemon, instantly melting the fountain beneath it. But no sooner had it melted did it refreeze as it stumbled out, eyes glowing deadly. It stomped out of the ruined fountain, the ground creating a thin layer of ice beneath each strop, spiderwebing outwards. It inhaled deeply, before bellowing out a chilly gusty gale dealing 38 Special Ice damage, and dropping Twitchy's Speed.

Whenever I give you damage, it is umodded. You need to apply Defenses and Typing as appropriate yourself.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes is forced to physically bite his tongue to stop from snapping back. Insults, the occassional slap, those were fine. But blaming his own stupidity on Fawkes? That always made the minor noble angrier than it should.

"Yes Master Weilon," he says simply, making a show of rushing away, rounding a nearby corner.

When he's out of sight he slows, shoving the coins deep into his pocket as he makes his way towards the market at a leisurely pace.

It took a good half hour to reach the market at your leisurely pace. The Sun had finally started its lazy descent towards the horizon, but the sweet relief of sunset was still hours away. As you meander through the common rabble towards the official royale seamstress shop, your hear something peculiar. This must stay between us. It came from your right, from 2 peasants who were dressed a tad too well to be peasants but not well enough to be nobles either.

[MesiDoomstalker]

So... not in the minor nobles or the Sassnids, but the very lords who the pharaoh trusted most. And with such power, anyone could be in their pocket. Turned by promises of power, of coin. Their own suspicion of her was expected, but still somehow disappointing. And yet, they chose her. That surely means much in itself. "I assume I will be reporting directly to you then, Commander?" She can't even begin to fathom calling the stern commander just 'Myrani'. It seems entirely wrong. So she doesn't.

No. The prince glowered at Myrani before finishing for her. If you are in contact with myself or the Commander frequently enough, we fear the spies and the conspirators will catch onto us and your purpose. If we can help it, we will not be in direct contact until we have the conspirators in irons.

If you have anymore, now would be the time to do so.

[Arcran]

For Fawkes those three words meant something very, very important was happening. Something that he probably shouldn't know which, of course, meant that he needed to know it.

Without breaking stride Fawkes turns to a nearby stall, inspecting the goods with a practiced eye as he tries to listen in on the conversation of the two 'peasants' even as he looks over their faces. While some hidden information would be worth quite a bit, knowing who knows that information would be worth far more.

General Education to ID the Not-Peasants: [roll0]
Guile to Seem like I'm Shopping: [roll1]
Perception to Listen In: [roll2]

[weirdsound]

The fire ripped through the tree pokemon, instantly melting the fountain beneath it. But no sooner had it melted did it refreeze as it stumbled out, eyes glowing deadly. It stomped out of the ruined fountain, the ground creating a thin layer of ice beneath each strop, spiderwebing outwards. It inhaled deeply, before bellowing out a chilly gusty gale dealing 38 Special Ice damage, and dropping Twitchy's Speed.


Tarn cursed under his breath. He had fought Abomasnow before, and although none were quite this large, they had all been bested by a single attack from Twitchy. All was not lost though... It was a simple matter of rallying the numel to launch another attack before the monster could move again... unless...

A thought popped into Tarn's head. A crazy thought. The sort of wild idea that got him into trouble. The Abomasnow... it had to be hurt. Catching it was an option, and a Pokemon like that would serve a man with Tarn's ambitions well. Failure, however would be costly. There was no way Twitchy could respond in time unless her trainer devoted his attentions to encouraging her - if the creature broke out, it would get another attack in.

There was also the chance that the beast was not wild - that somebody had brought it here in a Pokeball and so Tarn's own attempt to catch it would be wasted. If that was the case, Tarn would have to be on the lookout for whatever mischievous individual had put it there, and attempting the capture was the only way to find out for sure...

With a call to Twitchy, ordering her to back away and launch another attack, the rider drives Daggerteeth forward, produces one of his two empty Pokeballs, and hurls the sphere at the aggressive Pine Tree!


Tarn:
Shift Action: Move self and Daggerteeth so that our bottom right hand corner is at I12
Standard Action: Throw Pokeball at Abomasnow (AC: [roll0], Capture Check: [roll1]
Command Action: To Twitchy

HP Count:
Tarn - 82/82
Daggerteeth - 66/82
Twitchy - 28/70 (2 Injuries)

[Ajadea]

So that was it then. Saminra would be operating on her own, for however long that might be. And whoever she was looking for had a wide enough reach to potentially find any network, and trace it back to its source. And was reckless enough to dare threaten Prince Ehbrim and Commander Myrani, though that was not a surprise if they had designs on the throne. So there would be no net. No one to catch her if she fell. Oh, she had no doubt she was not working alone. But each spy would certainly be working independently. Best not to even try to find them, really. It was far easier to plead ignorance when it was true. "Just tell me where to go, and it shall be done."

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
You turn towards a Berry stand, pretending to listen to the merchant's spiel. You recognized the two men rather easily. One, older and stockier, was a retired Ranger, Dunn Mith. While he was in active service, he was mediocre at best and his mediocrity is the main reason he lived to retirement preventing him from being in any major trouble. He had let himself go since retiring, gaining a prominent gut and a scraggly grey beard. The other, short and young and dressed in the uniform of a Ranger Squire. You hadn't heard his name, but you've recognized his face. He was new to the Ranger's, no more than a few months and had yet to make a name for himself (obvious, given even you didn't know it).

However, between being turned partially away from the pair, the busy street crowd and the merchant's endless sales pitch, you only heard bits and pieces of the conversation. ... Mystrung ... ... on his ...! ... ... squire ... ...! He ... ... ... willing ...! Dunn's words shocked the young squire, the look obvious on his face.

any ellipse (the 3 periods) is a word you missed. You can make an Intuition test to piece it together (depending on your perception, its possible for you to be unable to figure out every word if you missed too much). You can try re-positioning. You'll need a new Guile check to do so. I'll need a new Perception check and a Focus check either way.
On an entirely different note, at what point does Fawkes consider killing to be morally reprehensible? IE, what is Fawkes moral event horizon?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Ok, so I'm going to have to ask you for a Symbology test for now on to understand things about pokeballs. They aren't as common knowledge as they would be in a standard setting. It isn't assumed you know that a failed capture is because its owned, or whatever other reason.
The sybmol-laden apricorn hit the behemoth square on the head ... and fell to the ground without any flourish or flash of light that normally accompanied a capture attempt. The beast stared at the ball quizzically for a moment, before returning its attention to Twitchy. It unleashed a hurricane of leaves, which tore through the camel for 30 Physical Grass damage.

At what point would Tarn consider killing morally reprehensible? IE what is his personal moral event horizon?

[MesiDoomstalker]

You will be going to Kamfrietta. I think its obvious that the Bloody Hand will be involved in this conspiracy, if they are not already. They will be your best place to start, I assume. My agents may make contact with you while in the field. The passcode you must remember is this; "Is that a new shade of blush? Its suits your face!" Myrani's voice became overly cheerful, in an attempt to mimic a natural conversational tone. It didn't work too well. And you'll respond. "Oh its wonderful, fit for a queen!" It is best you leave without us, lest a spy catches us all together. The prince motions towards the heavy drape that constituted the door.

Perception check as you leave.
Also, same question as the others. At what point would Saminra find killing morally reprehensible? IE her morale event horizon.

[weirdsound]

Tarn has a feat to make Pokeballs, so although his Symbology skill is untrained, I'd like to think he at least has more knowledge on Pokeballs in particular than the average schmuck. I'll make the check anyway, but I will argue that if I must roll, I should be rolling survival, because that is the skill I used to qualify Tarn for Apricorn Balls.

[roll0] Symbology check...
Add [roll1] to the roll if I can use survival instead.

I'll proceed with the rest of the turn as is. If these rolls lead to some new knowledge, I'll just have it dawn next round.


The leaves slice into the Numel, who emits a howl somewhere between laughter and agony, before narrowing her eyes and glaring back at her attacker. It had always been Tarn's belief that there were two sorts who could do good in a fight: The noble hero with a good cause and good heart, and the savage creature to whom hurting and being hurt was as natural and enjoyable as a strong drink or the touch of a lover to anybody else. There was no doubt in the trainer's mind that Twitchy fell into the latter category as much as Tarn did into the former.

Glowing bright red, Twitchy inhales deeply, preparing to launch yet another scalding plane of flame, but when she opens her opens her mouth, only tiny red sparks emerge harmlessly into the frigid air. A look of surprise and resignation flash briefly across the Numel's face before it passes out on the spot - the cold and hail having finished that which the beast who conjured it couldn't.

Tarn blinks. The Abomasnow had bested the creature he had caught and raised in large part as an answer to Abomasnow. His risky plan had utterly failed. There was, however, no time for panic or self loathing in the heat of a fight, and Tarn had a backup plan ready.

"Twitchy... back to me! Daggerteeth! Make haste! We must chart a retreat and lay a trap... If the gods of this city are willing, it should be enough to end this fight!"

The Onix offers rumbles in understanding, before turning tail and bolting away from the Abomasnow, leaving a few pointed rocks in its wake...


Tarn - 82/82
Daggerteeth - 50/82
Twitchy Negitive 5/70 (3 Injuries) Recalled

Twitchy takes the attack, but is KOed by hail at the start of her turn!
Tarn uses a shift action to recall Twitchy!
Tarn uses a standard action to use After You on Daggerteeth! Daggerteeth goes next this round!
Daggerteeth uses a standard action to use Stealth Rock! (Marked on Map as SR)
Daggerteeth shifts so that his bottom left corner is at F19!

[Arcran]

I feel that, for Fawkes, the event horizon shifts quite a bit depending on whether or not it would help him. A murder that he would normally be disgusted by he could tolerate should it put him in a good position, if that makes sense.

I would say he draws the line at killing kids though. That's when things are beyond ambition and gets into simply being wrong.

Fawkes' face continues the game of buying a berry but, within, his mind roils.

He didn't like not knowing a name. Without a name tracking somebody down became much more difficult, to say the least. Still, the shock meant that, at the very least, something important was going on or at least something interesting if the look on the new Ranger's face is anything to go by.

He continues to try to focus through the crowd, hoping to catch a bit more of the conversation even as he tries to gain something useful from the snippets he has heard. While it may delay him getting the tabbard fixed this was worth a few slaps from Weildon.

Intuition: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]
Focus: [roll2]

Also, what berries are being sold?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
As Daggerteeth twists his serpentine body away from the behemoth, motion catches your eye. Silhouetted against the full moon was a massive bird, its sleek body dwarfed by its massive wings. The wings tucked in and the bird flew into a dive bomb heading straight towards the square. The bird came into view, but it was quite obviously not a bird (http://cdn.bulbagarden.net/upload/thumb/1/15/715Noivern.png/250px-715Noivern.png). On its back was a mountain of a man with the most manliest of beards. He was drapped in an orange and black stripped pelt billowing behind him. He and the not-a-bird let out a piercing battle cry and the not-a-bird belched flames at the Abomasnow. Then, even stranger than the manly man's sudden appearance was the Abomasnow's response. The beast was encased in a golden shell for a brief moment, before the shell broke. The Abomasnow emerged from the shell radically changed (http://cdn.bulbagarden.net/upload/d/dc/460Abomasnow-Mega.png). Very suddenly, a wave of frigid air slammed into your back. The flurry which had begun in the square developed into a full-force blizzard, knocking into both you and Daggerteeth for 49 Special Ice damage.

The blizzard buffet did nothing to slow the onslaught of flame, which tore through the abominable snowman. Despite its new form, it fell to the ground with a very heavy thud. The buffet hit the not-a-bird, which took it hard but stayed aloft if only barely. The Hail ceased in tandem with the felling of the beast, though the blizzard still raged.

Hail is over. Its still blizzarding but no more Blizzard attack.
You can make a EDU: Pokemon check for the Not-A-Bird, the pelt on the Manly-Man's back and for the Abomasnow's radical transformation.
And you can make an EDU: General on the Manly-Man and the Abomasnow's radical Transformation (Pick General or Pokemon for the transformation).
You can make any or all of these checks (but please separate checks for each)
And yes I realize you were avoiding this situation. I like rails! :P

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
The berries laid out before you were the usual sort. Oran berries, a few Status-Cure berries and a Sitrus. Nothing too spectacular. Based on some context, you piece together what was being said. Commander Mystrung is … on his ..! With his Squire … ...! He is … … willing too! You twisted your head just so, picking up the next words better than before. Really? With his squire!? He could be killed for that! Or worse, banished! The young squire looked a mix between horror and intrigue. To think he risked - You look like a man who could use his fortune read! Your attention was drawn from the conversation by a short elderly women. She was draped in gaudy jewelry made of pewter and bronze and tattered red dress that had seen better days. He face was beaming a giant toothy smile, which hid the numerous moles, warts and wrinkles of a women far past her prime. She pulled firmly on your arm, trying to lead you towards her shop.

You'll need a Focus to continue to pay attention to the conversation along with Perception and a new Guile (harder DC) to not make a scene.

[Ajadea]

Saminra nods, filing that little passphrase away in her mind, and reminding herself to get some blush once she docked at Kafrmietta. "I will procure my own transport. Luck be with you." She gets up, reigning in her impulse to bow at the last minute. She settles for a respectful nod, and leaves, careful not to step on the pillows. Well, too much. The Bloody Hand. Saminra knew enough about them to know she didn't really want to mess with them, if at all possible. Unfortunately, such was not. Quite the opposite, really.

Even if Kafrmietta was objectively the closest city by land, it might well be faster and safer, if not cheaper, to go by boat. The desert wasn't the sort of place one took a stroll through. With that in mind, she heads out and towards the docks via the leatherworkers and the market. A circuitous route, but one that would likely confuse anyone following her, for the leatherworker's district was a tangled mess and the market was crowded at best. If nothing else, the stench of tanning leather had a good chance of discouraging any pursuers.


[roll0]

[Arcran]

Fawkes looks to the woman, quickly trying to divert her. He needed her to get out of his way or he'd miss the rest of it. If the snippets he had were any indication, he'd have no small amount of leverage over Mystrung which, while risky, would be extremely useful in the long run.

"Please ma'am, I'm in a hurry for my master," Fawkes tries to say as pitifully as possible. "If I don't bring him the berries soon he'll hit me again."

As he does so, Fawkes tries to focus in on the conversation once more, hoping that he can actually pick up more than snippets this time.

Focus: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]
Guile: [roll2]

[weirdsound]

Under the force of the Malestrom, Daggerteeth collapses with a mighty roar. Tarn himself is not spared injury as the sleet and wind cut into his skin. But then it stops, and as the intensity of the snow and hail fades, the rider sees that the newcomer had bested his foe.

Any thoughts of failure and guilt, however, was pushed out of his head, by the presence of the stranger. He needed to be thanked, and perhaps even negotiated with.

"Thank the gods I'm not the only one to see smoke and think that people may need aid, and thank you for your assistance. My name is Tarn Aldred, son of Adolf and child of the frozen wastes."

Hopping down from and recalling Daggerteeth, Tarn approaches the man, the bird, and the fallen beast with a pronounced limp to his step. The bird had taken quite a beating, but its rider was quite impressive. Tarn himself stood nearly a head above most men, but this stranger dwarfed even him. The man was also at least Tarn's equal in terms of dress; their beards were comparable in many ways, and the Stranger's garb made from a fire type's pelt was at least as impressive, if not more so, than the his own Beartic Fur hat.

"Stranger. Would you be so kind as to end that beast?" Tarn asks. "It frightens and intrigues me. I have dealt with Pokemon of this sort before, but never one quite like this. They should be smaller, and bring only hail that vanishes when they are bested. I have never seen one change like that either, nor have I seen one venture this far south."

The rider then briefly examines Daggerteeth's Pokeball, and briefly entertains the idea reviving it with bitter medicine. The sudden Blizzard, however had put out the temple fire, and Daggerteeth was no longer immediately needed for rescue duty. Thinking of the temple, however, caused a related thought to erupt into Tarn's mind, and an exclamation to erupt from his mouth.

"WAIT! DON'T BURN IT! Kill it some other way. The temple can use the wood to repair the damage from the fire. Or if they don't need it, we can sell it and split the yield."


HP:
Daggerteeth - -35/82, 2 Injuries
Tarn - 28/82, 2 Injuries

[roll0] Charm Check to make a good impression on the stranger, and to convince him to kill it with anything *but* fire.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
As the heavy curtain fell behind you, you heard the prince whisper. Do you think she can do it? There was a short pause before Myrani responded. Her loyalty will be tested. That much is certain.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Oh ho ho, do not think you can fool me Fawkes Theysson, would-be Usurper. The women flashed a big, mostly-toothless, wicked smile. Despite your best attempts, it seems you missed whatever the two Rangers were saying. Even worse, they seemed to have stopped conversing and were looking in your direction. My offer still stands, Theysson. Would you like your fortune read?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
The large man turned as you greeted him, surprise obvoius on his face. Oh hello! You shouldn't be here. Its not safe for those of the weak willed. It seems he didn't even realize you were there till you announced yourself. I'll gladly slay this beast! Do not fear Tard, for I am the Great Zaim Gradherse, Explorer and Hunter extraordinaire! The large man flourished his arms in a theatrical fashion. Shatter, remove this beast from my sight. It was not worth our time, to be felled so easily. Without heeding your request, the Totally-Bird thing sprayed another blast of fire, catching the behemoth's body ablaze.

[weirdsound]

Tarn does his best to swallow his rage. Weak willed? Why, if he still had a Pokemon that could fight, he might take offense to that... But the man did step in and help in a bad situation...

"Its Tarn." He repeats with a low voice, before swallowing his pride and returning to a more cheerful tone. "What is a big game hunter doing in this town anyhow? I'd suspect there is a better market for selling trophies to the nobles at the capital than the spiritual and brainy folk here. Or did somebody tip you off that giant Abomasnow are in season here?"

[Ajadea]

Saminra bites her lip as she leaves. She knows what her duty is. She will not falter.

So, to Kafrmietta it was. She heads towards the docks. It might be objectively closer by desert, but few roads wound through the sands. Travel by boat would be more expensive, but safer, and likely even faster.

[Arcran]

Fawkes was reaching into his purse to slip the woman a coin when he heard the name. While most would be impressed by that trick, Fawkes was not. If he was pressed the minor noble was quite sure that he would not only be able to name off each and every one of them but also their fathers. Recognizing the face of a man in the crowd was nothing.

And then she used that word. The word that perfectly describes what Fawkes wishes to do yet would get him killed should it ever follow his name. Usurper. Such a nasty, crude word. Even the commonfolk could understand that one. It meant you did not belong.

He turns to the woman, a strange glint in his eyes. A psychic? Somebody in sorts with spirits? In truth Fawkes could not know.

"Make it quick," Fawkes says dismissively, trying to hide his interest. He could get a tail on the squire later anyways. Or read his dreams, or something. Who knows?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
Oh I was just passing through, on my way to the Great Frozen Wastes! I figured if such a beastie was assaulting this fair city, it was only my civic duty to lend a hand! The door to the nearest church suddenly lurched open, pushing through the snow that had piled up in front of it. A man in ceremonial white robes trudged out through the snow, looking worried. When he saw the burning carcass, his face lit up and started waddling awkwardly through the snow towards the two of you. Oh thank Arceus, the beast has been slain! The people of this city have you two to thank!

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra bites her lip as she leaves. She knows what her duty is. She will not falter.

So, to Kafrmietta it was. She heads towards the docks. It might be objectively closer by desert, but few roads wound through the sands. Travel by boat would be more expensive, but safer, and likely even faster.

Saminra
You made your way through the city fairly effortlessly, making your way to the wharf in no time. It was about midday and the docks were a bustle of traders and sailors going about moving their wares.

You going to charter a boat, take a passenger ship or stowaway?

[MesiDoomstalker]

The women hobbled, motioning towards a minuscule tent off the main road. The tent was a faded red, and looked to barely large enough for the woman to stand upright in, more or less both of you. However, as you ducked down to enter the interior was far more spacious, even larger than your servant lodging you have. The interior was decorated with numerous candles, scented by the powerful bouquet of scents you were suddenly inhaling. Miscellaneous pieces of cloth and linen were strewn about. In the center of the room was a small table draped in a red cloth, seeming to be of the same material as the tent but far newer, with a small glass sphere. A large white cat, who had been laying beside the table stood and began glaring at you, before rubbing against you, purring and mewoing softly.

The women nodded and responded to nothing. Yes yes, I do agree.

Gallifreyan tech (Bigger on the Inside) is a lost art from Archemnian Empire. The largest known is about the size of a sack, this is quite a bit larger than that.

[weirdsound]

Tarn nods solemnly at the stranger. "You might be disappointed then... I've worked as a guide for Gallians looking to visit Fort Malvin for almost a decade, and have never seen a monster as frightening as the one you just beat and called 'not worth your time'. But then again, you might have just had an easy time because my Pokemon softened it up first... And you might find tougher fights on the other side of the Daggerteeth Mountains."

The rider smiles. A chance to talk about the north was a chance to break the ice. "Perhaps we should track down my father, get some drinks, and trade stori-"

Just then the priest exits the temple and delivers his brief speech. A speech which created an opening for Tarn to subtly get back at the hunter for his disrespectfulness.

"Good sir, should a monster attack a city, it is but the humble of duty of brave men such as myself and this strapping fellow to step up and deal with it. It cost me nothing save for a little pain, and perhaps some medical expenses, so I was glad to do it. My name is Tarn Aldred of Fort Malvin, blood of the High Judge Mallakan, and my companion for this pitched battle is the hunter Zam Gradhorse. May I inquire as to your name, and as to what lord this temple serves?"


[roll0] Command Check to take credit for the situation...

[Arcran]

Fawkes allows a hand to drift over the white cat as it rubs against him, idly petting it as he looks around. He'd seen one of the Archemnian Bags once, owned by some hedge knight that seemed to have more gold than sense. But this! This tent was, to put it simply, impossible.

Fawkes mutters as much under his breath as he continues to look around. Thoughts race through his mind as he simply takes the room in. He tries to initially put a price on it but something like this? He didn't know if there was one. And, of course, there was the thought that the old woman may know actual magic. Not sleight of hand tricks or the basic magics that so many practiced but real, powerful magic.

"Agree with what?" he inquires, his face failing to keep a stoic facade as he looks around in wonder.

[Ajadea]

Lurking is a good way to draw attention to oneself. Saminra meanders instead, listening to the last ragged fishwives and keeping out of the way of the dockworkers. There is no need to draw attention, nor to hesitate. All she needs is on her back, and any ship would do to carry it. Kafrmietta is a large city, and there are many reasons a woman might wish to seek her fortune there. Why hide in the shadows, when the crowd serves just as well?


Saminra will seek legal passage - either on a passenger ship, or a cargo ship heading to Kafrmietta and looking to make some extra coin. No reason to make a fuss over this. Lots of people go to Kafrmietta.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
You got as far as sir before a meaty hand was shoved in your face as Zam stepped ahead of you. Yes, I the great Zam Gradhorse, is at your service! It was I who felled the mighty beast. Twas nothing, he put up no fight. Be glad... Zam continued on in such fashion praising himself and his wonderful achievements for several more minutes. No matter how you try, you never seem to get a word in edgewise. The priest was seemingly in awe of Zam and have forgotten you. My word Mr Gradhorse, you are quite amazing! Please, come come. We have some food in the storehouse if you are feeling hungry.

A command (again opposed) or a Charm (not opposed but fairly tough DC) might draw their attention back to you

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
What Dearie? The women gave you a face of innocence, before gesturing towards the small table. Please, Dearie. Sit, sit and tell me what you want to know of you future! The women sat down and the large cat laid down by her feet.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
You move about the docks till you reach the commerce section. On a large board is a list of all the boats, their captains, where they are going (or coming from), their purpose and their leave date. The only ships leaving towards Kamfrietta today was a passenger ship with a fairly high price tag (^800) or a cargo ship carrying spices and incense.

[Arcran]

Fawkes sits down carefully, making sure to not wrinkle his finery. In any other situation the man would have been all questions. How much will it cost me? How did you do this? Where did you find this tent?

Yet, right now, in the presence of it all, Fawkes was, for one of the few times in his life, completely overwhelmed. So, instead of attempting to drill answers out of the old woman he looks at her face, doing his best to keep the anticipation from going to his eyes and says three simple words, his voice hardly above a whisper.

"Do I win?"

A childish question that a simpleton was as likely to ask as Fawkes yet, for whatever reason, simply felt right.

[weirdsound]

Tarn's eyes almost glow with anger, as the emotions bubble under his skin. If that bastard wanted the credit, fine, he could suck it up and live with that. But to keep Tarn and his family from a warm meal, a place to rest, and perhaps even the chance to heal his Pokemon... that was unforgiveable.

"The man's claims are false! He swooped in on that bird, and landed the finishing blow after my Pokemon and I had fought the monster tooth and nail! I'm not saying he didn't help, or that I am not grateful, but he is clearly overstating his role!"

The rider sends out his two unconscious Pokemon, and spreads his arms, revealing all the damage he and his team had taken. "I AM TARN ALDRED OF FORT MALVIN, BLOOD OF THE HIGH JUDGE MALLAKAN! AND THIS IS WHAT FOUGHT AND BLED FOR YOUR TEMPLE!"


[roll0] Command Check

[Ajadea]

Saminra winces at the cost listed on the passenger ship. It wouldn't be as comfortable, taking board on a cargo ship, and it might be harder to charm her way on. But she didn't need to be comfortable, she just needed to get to Kafrmietta as quickly as possible. And she'd rather not spend nearly half her coin on doing that. Incense smelled better than Skiddo, if nothing else. So she seeks out the cargo ship instead.

"Hey!" she yells when she finds them. It takes some effort to raise her voice that loudly. No courtly courtesy, not now. Just the crude manner of the dockside, unpolished and direct. "You're going to Kafrmietta, right? Got room for one more on board?"

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
The women cackled throatily. Win? Sure! 16 moves in, with a pawn no less! She continued to cackle, thoroughly enjoying herself.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
Zaim and the priest were startled by your outburst. Zaim quickly recovered, his face hiding a smoldering annoyance. He opened his mouth to speak but the priest beat him to it. Is that true? Zaim avoided the man's gaze and mumbled something sounding like "maybe". The priest sighed heavily before turning back to Tarn. My apologies Mr Aldred of Fort Malvin. However, it is unbecoming of a grown man to whine like a child being ignored. The priest chided with a sharp tutting tone. Come with me, my apostates can tend to your wounds and give you lodging for the night. I suspect the Governor will wish to speak with the two of you in the morn.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
A older man with salt-and-pepper hair and very thick scraggily beard appeared over the railing. His salty eyes studied you with a sneer. I don't take passenger's, especially no frilly lady. Take yer powdered face and get lost. An old salt like me have no use fer ya pampered ass.

[Ajadea]

So that was how it was going to be? Very well. Saminra crosses her arms and glares up at the man. "I'm no pampered courtesan, and no noble either. Just looking to get to Kafrmietta, and I hear you're going. I've got coin, and I'm willing to work." She considers a winning smile, briefly, then takes into account the character of the man in front of her and settles for a challenging stare, chin raised and jaw set.


[roll0]

[Arcran]

Fawkes frowns at the words, unsure of their meaning. Did she think he was asking about a game? Or were turns years? Months? Days?

Everything the woman had said so far was a riddle for Fawkes. He was angry and yet did his best to keep it from showing. He thought he would get clear answers for his time and they'd been anything but.

"Will you give me a clear answer or do you prefer your riddles?" he says, doing his best to force a grin.

[weirdsound]

Tarn Flinches, as the priests' chiding knocks him from his outburst. "I am sorry. I have been on the road a bit too long, and it would seem my social graces have suffered for it." He says softly.

The rider recalls his Pokemon once more, and follows the priest. Several seconds later he hazards to speak again. "I am traveling with my father Adolph and our servant Meredith. When I saw the smoke, and resolved to investigate, I gave them some gold with which to buy food, and told them to meet me at the North Gate of town when they were finished eating. If you can spare a man, would you send for them? They can't be missed; Adolph looks like I would were I to decide to buy wrinkles for my flesh with the hair on my head, and Meredith was once a guest of the Silenco Pirates, and has received that punishment which they are famous for inflicting."


[roll0] Charm Check if needed. I'm not sure if apologizing to somebody whose butt you just saved, or trying to talk the NPCs into doing a minor task to speed the game along would require a roll, but here you are just in case.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
Oh ya? Prove it princess! The man smacked the banister, a gangplank dropping down onto the pier. He motioned for you to come aboard as he pulled an apricorn from his belt.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Will you give me a clear question? I answered your question, as vaguely as you asked for. A smug smirk plastered on her face. You may be mishearing, but you swear the cat was laughing at you beneath the table.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
That can be arranged, Mr. Aldred. Come. The priest turned with a huff. He was obviously not too happy with either of you. Zaim brushed past you, his wide shoulder pushing you out of the way. Looks like you made no friends tonight.

If you have anything you want to do, go ahead. I can edit in more otherwise your going to the next day.

[Arcran]

Fawkes looks to the cat, a frown finally breaking through his facade.

"Will I ever be a lord?" Fawkes asks, deciding to go for a simple question that doesn't reveal his true aspirations. While he doubted the woman was a spy you could never be too careful when talking about kingslaying.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
A lord? Ya, I suppose so. In a sense. Surprised you didn't ask about being a Lord though.

[Arcran]

"Fine then. A Lord," Fawkes says, reclining in the chair. "Will I become a Lord?" he says, the tone somewhat tired.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Haha now you are catching on! She swirls her hands around her crystal ball, which grew foggy with dense clouds. The clouds roiled and swirled as the women stared into it. I'm getting an answer! Its becoming clearer. She stared for a full minute, continueing her arm-swirl routine. Oh bother. She turned the ball around, wispy letters floating in the clouds. Answer unclear, ask again later The woman barely held back a snicker.

[Arcran]

Fawkes curses openly, losing his cool completely.

"Will you give me a clear answer to any of this?" Fawkes asks, face quickly turning red. "Fine, an easy question and one this farce is making me miss the answer to. What is transpiring between Mystrung and his squire?" he says, trying to force his voice flat and, well, failing.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Phffffbt! She waved her hand dismissively. He's raping his young squire. You'd have to be dumb, blind and deaf to not know that. She paused, looking surprised before meeting your eyes. Ops forgot you were in the room! The cat once joined in with her cackle.

[Arcran]

Fawkes turns, livid. The information, while possibly useful, could be entirely false. At least he had a lead to follow.

Yet, despite his efforts, Fawkes wasn't particularly interested in dealing with the woman any further. Without saying a word he pushes back from the table, ignoring the chair as it falls over and storming towards the exit of the tent, flinging a silver onto the table. He had other work to do than be taunted by an old crone. And yet, the laughing, wrinkled face was burned into his memory...

Using Photographer on the old woman

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
The women's cackling laughter and the cat's purring-laughter echoed in your ears as the bright sunlight blinded you for a moment. As your eyes adjusted, it was far darker than it should have been. Almost like candlelight. You opened your eyes, seeing the interior of the tent and the women, smiling a much more genuine smile at you. Welcome back dearie. I'm sorry, I just can't help myself sometimes. Please, sit. I promise to be more direct from now on. After a beat. Oh and its not a lie. He's really boning his squire. Real sordid affair. I'm sure you can work that pretty easily.

[Arcran]

Fawkes looks about, more than a little confused and, to be frank, scared. What was this woman actually capable of?

"Thank you," he mutters, a little humbled by the display of power, however subtle.

"Is your orb saying anything about the Lord question," Fawkes asks meekly.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Nope. There are limits to my power, if you can believe it. Important events of ones life, or the lack thereof, I am not allowed to share. The cat meowed sharply, and the women jumped. She hastily corrected. I can't see. I meant see.

[Arcran]

"So you couldn't tell me - I mean see - when I die?" Fawkes asks, a little perturbed when he picks up on the difference between seeing and sharing. Who sets the rules for a woman as powerful as this? Or was she not as strong as she pretended to be?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
She swirled her hand over the orb once, the clouds turning a sinister black. Nothing specific. I can see that you do at some point die, but the circumstances or the time are indistinct.

[Arcran]

"Well, what do I do know?" Fawkes asks, more to buy him time to think of a real question than anything. He doubted a question as vague as that would get a serious response but who knows?

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
A single eyebrow raised in curious interest. Lets see. The cloud in the orb swirled tumultuously, what seemed like small cracks of lightning flitted about inside. The women began chanting lowly, closing her eyes. You felt a sudden shifting beneath you as the cat darted away and out of sight. The women's eyes shot open glowing a solid pearly white, in a deep voice not her own. Do not look a gift Ponyta in the mouth. The women slumped forward hitting the table with a thud before snapping back up with a start. Woah! That was a rush!

[Arcran]

Fawkes edges backward in his seat, trying to put as much space between himself and the woman.

"Are you alright?" he says hesitantly, somewhat wishing he could simply do what the cat had done. "Do not look a gift Ponyta in the mouth..." What was that supposed to mean? Who would give the gift? When? How?

For some reason Fawkes doubts the woman has answers. Still, it couldn't hurt to try after the proper courtesies.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Oh ya, that always happens when I get a bigin'. Even if you don't believe anything else I said, believe that one. The big scary voice and the fainting and the glowing eyes usually convince people. HAHAHAHA! She laughs once again. Always gives me a rush. Wanna go on a run? I feel like running. She jolts up from her seat, jogging in place, her loose outfit jostling about.

[Arcran]

Fawkes shakes his head, utterly bewildered.

"Do you remember anything about what you said?" he asks, trying to ignore the sight of an old woman jogging in place.

[Ajadea]

It was an opportunity, and that was all she ever needed. Saminra takes it, boarding the ship before the old man can change his mind. An Apricorn. Perhaps it would be a fight. It didn't need to be, really. However, it was better to keep one's true strength at bay until it was needed. "Alright. What's this test?"

[weirdsound]

After having his wounds tended to, and reuniting with his family, Tarn tucks settles down for the night. Not knowing to whom this temple belonged, but having heard that some religions make a big deal about a man sharing a bed with anybody but his own wife, Tarn had not made an issue about Meredith being put up in another room, but at least his father was on the next bunk over.

"Looks like you got proper lodging after all, you lucky Weevile." Tarn chuckles as he tries to drift off to sleep, "Just shows to go what happens when you complain within earshot of the gods I guess."

It had been a long day, and Tarn was a bit worried. Neither the priest or the hunter seemed pleased with him, and he was likely to meet the governor tomorrow. At first he thought he was to be rewarded, but the more he thought about it, the more he began to fear punishment; He did, after all, tear up the streets of the Holy City with a giant beast from the frozen wastes. Sleep might not come easy tonight.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
No not really. She was very matter-of-fact about it. Is there anything else I can do for you Fawkes? If not, get out. You bore me. Her mood flipped instantly to dismissive and uninterested.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
The Captain limped over from the banister, gripping the weathered pokeball in hand. This be yer test. The pokeball split open, releasing a leviathan (http://www.serebii.net/art/th/130.png) directly onto the boat's deck. The beast's tail hung off the side and it glowered at you angrily.

It has speed 8. So, if faster, your mon (or yourself) can go first.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
The bed's were supremely comfy, no sooner had you lied your head down were you out like a candle. You roused naturally the next day. Your father was already up and dressed. The room was rather simple, something you were used to back at the Fort. A knock came from the door. Mr. Aldred? Mr. Aldred Sr? Are you decent?

[Ajadea]

"A battle? So be it." Saminra isn't much for dirtying her own hands, but that didn't make her helpless. By no means, in fact. She recognizes the apricorns at her belt by touch. Adzara's still new, runed edges sharp, and Naishe's battered by years of faithful companionship. It is the latter she chooses, and for a moment she's struck by the contrast. Giant leviathan. Tiny bird. Naishe coos, no doubt confused by the silence. She'd have to make it up to her later. Now... "Naishe, Volt Switch."

Naishe whirls out in a blur of static and brightly colored feathers, a bolt of lightning lancing out at the beast - which does very little indeed. Saminra bites back an assortment of rather impolite exclamations. Perhaps the captain would not care, but she had some dignity.


Swift Action: Pokemon Connoisseur to assess Loyalty of Gyarados (success: Loyalty 4)
Shift Action: Send out Naishe
Command Action: Volt Switch! Naishe returns to her Pokeball if successful.
[roll0] vs 2+Special Evasion
[roll1] - Special Defense, x3 for type weakness

If the Gyarados is still up: Standard Action to Shift Action - release Naishe again, nice and far away from Mr. Fish there.

[weirdsound]

Tarn
The bed's were supremely comfy, no sooner had you lied your head down were you out like a candle. You roused naturally the next day. Your father was already up and dressed. The room was rather simple, something you were used to back at the Fort. A knock came from the door. Mr. Aldred? Mr. Aldred Sr? Are you decent?

"Yeah, come on in... Where I'm from, you get in the habit of sleeping well clothed." Tarn sits up on the edge of his bed, shakes himself awake, and readies to meet the person on the other side of the door.

[Arcran]

Fawkes stands for a few seconds in stunned silence before leaving the tent, mulling over his new information. The news about the squire would be useful, to say the least. He'd have to confirm it with the squire, of course, but that was a given.

The gift Ponyta though... Fawkes has no idea what to make of that.

And so he leaves the tent, making his way back towards the tabbard if he is able to.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
The bolts of lightning bounced harmlessly off the beasts thick hide. Yar took a risk sending that bird in 'ere. The leviathan lunged forward, its gaping maw crashing down on the tiny bird, dealing 34 Physical Dark Damage, and Flinching.

When I bold damage, it is unmodified. You must apply stats and typing as appropriate.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
A young abbot opened the door, bowing his head in greeting. Mr. Alrded. The Governor requests you and Mr. Gradhorse presence in his mansion. It is only a short walk. Gov'ner? Finally! The Aldred clan finally getting the respect we deserve in this forsaken place. The abbot looked absolutely horrified at your father's words. Well, Mr. Aldred Sr. you are entitled to your opinion! However, the Governor requested your son, not you. Your father looked like he was about to protest, in his normal stubborn way.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
As you exited the tent, you heard a parting purring laugh from the Persian. As you adjusted to the outside lighting, nothing seemed to have changed. The two men you were eavesdropping on were staring at you suspiciously before turning and giving you a wide berth. You move as if your body knew what it was doing. You retrieved the tabbard, actually fetching a good price, taking only half the gold given to you for the task. You return to the joust, you caught the time. You had been gone no more than half an hour, exactly as long as you expected to be gone without any interruptions. Weildon was not at the stables where you had left him however.

[weirdsound]

Tarn
A young abbot opened the door, bowing his head in greeting. Mr. Alrded. The Governor requests you and Mr. Gradhorse presence in his mansion. It is only a short walk. Gov'ner? Finally! The Aldred clan finally getting the respect we deserve in this forsaken place. The abbot looked absolutely horrified at your father's words. Well, Mr. Aldred Sr. you are entitled to your opinion! However, the Governor requested your son, not you. Your father looked like he was about to protest, in his normal stubborn way.

Tarn does his best to bury a look of annoyance from his face. Although he is bad at reading people in general, Tarn had been dealing with Adolph long enough to know that the best way to stop his protests was to do so before they started. In this particular case, he hoped a good dose of sobering fact, mixed with flattery, would do the trick.

"It is no big deal father. This is a town for tourists, pilgrims, and scholars. This is not the 'forsaken place' you want to be moving up in, as I doubt there is much market for a Pokemon Breeder of your caliber and skill here. Unless you want to spend the rest of your days spitting out domesticated ponyta for pilgrims with a tendency to run their steeds into the ground, you mustn't allow yourself to be charmed by this place. The court at the capital is where you want to be."

Tarn drapes an arm across the old man's shoulder, "If there is a reward, you will have a share, and if I am to be publicly honored, I will see that you are given proper recognition and placement at the event where that is to happen. There is also a fair chance that I am just going to be admonished for ripping up the cobblestone with Daggerteeth. Whatever the case, you have taught me well in the craft of advocating for myself and my kin..."

He then brings his lips to his father's ear and whispers, "what I do not know is how to run a charm offensive in two places at once. I fear that in my injured and shocked state last night, I may have made a poor first impression on some of the kind people of this temple. We need an able body and a sharp mind here to make ready for departure so we do not have to burden this place with another night of our presence, but also smooth things out our hosts in case the governor gives us occasion to linger several days."


[roll0] Charm Check to diffuse potential situation with dear old dad

[Arcran]

To a careful observer, a faint grin could be seen across Fawkes' face. He had gained a useful bit of information, had completed his task to the highest degree of success and, for what it was worth, had some great message from something likely not of this earth.

However, not finding Weildon could put Fawkes in trouble. He quickly heads towards the ice stand, seeking out Marryl and trying to figure out exactly where Weildon went.

[Ajadea]

Saminra cries out automatically, shuddering even if she isn't linked to Naishe. She doesn't need to feel her partner's pain to know it is there, to see the blood spattering on to the deck. This is a bad idea. But there are worse. "Adzara." Naishe returns even as she changes them out, taking a wager, a bet, a hope. The tiny candle is even more ridiculous-looking than the bird next to the leviathan on the deck, bobbing hopefully in midair with a perpetual smile. She glances at her briefly, forging a connection deeper than words. Slight disorientation. Bubbling cheer. Hope. Saminra lets a smile slip past, returning urgency, intent, Naishe's blood. Adzara lets out a shrill cry. Confuse Ray. Then away. She keeps her eyes fixed firmly on the Gyarados as Adzara takes cover, no more needing to look at her Litwick to know where it was than she needed to watch her own hands and feet.


Standard Action: Swap Naishe and Adzara
Command: Adzara uses Confuse Ray on the Gyarados and runs.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
It was plain on your father's face he didn't like the situation. He wanted to chew the abbot out, but he held his tongue. Fine! Waving his hand dismissively. The abbot, apparently taking this as a victory escorted you out with a faint air of superiority. He led you to an enclosed coach drawn by a Rapidash. The coach looked fairly opulent, far more than you'd ever spend on a transport. As you sit down, you see Zaim was already sat opposite you. He was dressed very differently than the night before. Instead of his traveling clothes, which while stylish, were practical, he was dressed in fine linens of the local magistrates. Only his heavy cloak remained from his normal outfit. He glared at you as you sat down, but didn't say anything. Seems he wasn't the one to make the first move.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
You found Marryl just as you left her. She looked concerned when she spotted you. Fawkes! Where have you been?! Master Lard has been looking for you and he's not happy!

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
The serpent thrashed about for a moment in Confusion, before it locked its gaze on the fleeing candle. Clever! Keep it pinned! The serpent bound across the deck, closing the distance, barring right ontop of the candle's simple hiding spot behind a crate.

Just to be clear, he cured of Confusion and used both his actions to close the distance. The Gyara is currently adjacent.

[Arcran]

"Why the hell is he unhappy?" Fawkes inquires, slightly confused. Since when was Weildon angered by Fawkes taking the normal amount of time? The man was unreasonable, yes, but Fawkes had taken about as little time as one could hope to spend on the task. Had the joust been moved forward?

And then Fawkes remembers that Weildon has a truly prodigious stick up his ass.

"Right, because he's Weildon," Fawkes says sarcastically, tossing in an eye roll for good measure. "Do you know here he is?"

[weirdsound]

Tarn sighs, and remains silent unless spoken to. His own dress for the occasion was far more modest than Zaim's, selected specifically to play up his exotic norther heritage: A clean and simple set of white and light gray traveler's clothes, clearly intended for navigating the wastes as opposed to the woods and plains of the three kingdoms, and of course his hood-like beartic fur hat, complete with well preserved fangs and hungry eyes, that stands as witness to both the rider's courage and heritage.

[Ajadea]

Saminra's lips tighten into a thin white line. Not going as planned. New tactic, new options... Adzara hums back in her mind, worry, ready. Fire Spin. Just keep running, baby. We'll wear this bastard down. A soft chirp, and she isn't sure if it's in her mind or out loud. Maybe both. Adzara takes a deep breath and skrees as the tiny flame on her head billows into an impossibly large vortex, swirling around the much larger serpent, trapping it within. Adzara flees again, as fast as she can move.


Fire Spin! [roll=Attack] vs 4+ Sp. Def. [roll0] If success, target is Slowed, Trapped, and loses 1/10 of max HP each turn.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes
Maryyl nodded, pointing towards the jousting grounds. It didn't take you long to find him, his cursing carrying in the wind very easily. He was underneath the stands the audience were seated upon. If not for the thick wood and their cheers, his words might have traveled to their ears. He was screaming and cursing at what appeared to be a knight who had lost a joust. You catch the tail end. -so much gold! I had a lot riding on you! How am I to repay- Weildon stopped as he spotted you, all the furious red in his face quickly drained to nothing. F-F-Fwakes! Your back already!? I would swear you'd take longer! as he hastily changed the subject.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
As you both manily and stoically not talk to each other like adults, the carriage bounded down the cobblestone street towards a manor sitting ontop a hill. The manor was clearly visible, the grounds were not, hidden behind a massive stone wall. As the carriage pulled through the massive gate, the splendor of the mayor's house dawned on you. The manor grounds were covered in the most beautiful flowers and expertly trimmed topiaries. Off to one side, you could see an entire battle scene depicted in trimmed and pampered trees cut into shapes of combatants and on the other a maze of hedges which you could not see the end. The drive was lined with bushes of flowers and towering statues of various Gods. There was one statue hidden beneath a heavy, dark velvet drape.

The manor it self was massive, easily dwarfing any of the cathedrals in the Cities Religious District (saying a lot for the City of the Gods). Workers flitted about to and fro with various tools to maintain the pristine look of the extravagant grounds. You noticed most of the servants had a deep olive skin tone, much unlike the locals or those from the Fort. The carriage finally came to a stop in front of a pair of massive, gold-inlayed double doors which swung open on their own accord. A squat little man in equally extravagant dress waddled out of the massive door way, waving greeting.

The draped statue is of Giratina, and a common practice of his worshipers to never depict his original form to the naked eye, meaning that the statue outside was his true form.
Such statues are incredibly rare, most being destroyed by Giratina or his followers after the events that scarred him so many years ago.
You get first shot at first impressions. Make a Charm or Command check. Charm will be direclty trying to win over the mayor (short guy) while Command is trying to upstage Zaim (opposed check)

[MesiDoomstalker]

The serpent roars in anger and frustration, as it cannot keep pace with the agile bird with the restricting flames.

Sorry, work hit me hard right after you posted the last time so I spacced and never responded. So its stated plainly, your mon have summoning sickness when released for the second and subsequent times in a single encounter. You still have your command, so if you have a mon with an action, you can use it but the released mon cannot take action.

[weirdsound]

Tarn waves back, before rising from his seat in the carriage, and offering the slight, stiff, and respectful bow a northern man uses to great his betters. The rider positions himself in the sun, and offers a cold and firm exclamation of "Lord Governor Sir!", playing up his accent slightly, and falling silent until addressed further.

He was dressed as a northerner, and his host would likely have been told he indeed was a northerner, therefore he would behave as a northerner was expected to.

[Arcran]

Fawkes does his best to conceal his smug grin, knowing that even with all his practice that was impossible. Lord Lard losing money on a joust? Even the thought of Weildon clobbering him for the faintest of smirks cannot entirely remove it from his face.

"I was under the impression that time was of the essence," Fawkes says, keeping his tone as even as possible. "If you'd like I'm sure I can spend more time in the market and return later."

Fawkes instantly regrets the last remark but, frankly, he couldn't resist it. It was odd that Weildon be so entirely defeated and the young noble couldn't help but capitalize.

Of course, Fawkes isn't entirely caught up in laughing at his master. His keen eyes run up and down the knight, trying to place the face to a name.

General Education: [roll0]

[Ajadea]

Saminra keeps her eyes locked on the swirls of ghostly flame trapping the Gyarados within. Good job. Let's add some smoke to this fire. Joke? Human humor. Yes. Waxy lips twist into a smirk. Maybe hers. Maybe Adzara's. Maybe both. It didn't matter. Adzara's flame begins to smolder, choking smoke rapidly growing into a massive cloud, which envelops the Gyarados entirely as she bolts. Naishe's turn now. You did well. A triumphant chirp resounds in her mind as she exchanges Adzara for Naishe in a smooth movement. A single glance, and she hears another voice in her head. That was painful. Unnecessarily so. It seems the child is learning, however. Small mercies.

She locked it up. All I need you to do is take it down. One good hit should do it.

I can certainly do that.


Adzara uses Smog: [roll0] vs 4+Special Evasion. 13+ Poisons [roll1] and runs
Swap Adzara for Naishe
Swift Action: Channel Naishe

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn
The Governor looks at you, slightly dumbfounded. Yes, hello... His response was obviously forced. Zaim stepped in front of you, making a point of checking you with his shoulder. With an extravagant flourish, billowed his cape and bowed deeply. The Great Zaim Gradherse, Hunter-Explorer Extraordinaire at your service, my liege!

The Governor's face lit up with glee as he started clapping excitedly. Oh yes! Hello Mr. Gradherse, hello! And, ahem, hi Mr. Aldred. Its a pleasure to meet you both! He visibly flinched as his misspeak before quickly recovering. Please, please, do come in! I have a wonderful luncheon arranged for us in the garden. He motioned for you to follow, turning and heading inside, then turning around and half running, half-waddling back outwards. Oops! Forgot they are waxing the floors! Mustn't ruin their work! He motioned, again, for you to follow as he strode across the grounds with a wide, slightly loopy gait. So, Mr. Aldred. I've heard your from the North? The harsh Frozen Wastes? That must be fascinating! Despite his previous attitude towards you, he seemed genuinely interested. Fraught with danger at every turn! It must be so much fun!

[MesiDoomstalker]

Fawkes does his best to conceal his smug grin, knowing that even with all his practice that was impossible. Lord Lard losing money on a joust? Even the thought of Weildon clobbering him for the faintest of smirks cannot entirely remove it from his face.

"I was under the impression that time was of the essence," Fawkes says, keeping his tone as even as possible. "If you'd like I'm sure I can spend more time in the market and return later."

Fawkes instantly regrets the last remark but, frankly, he couldn't resist it. It was odd that Weildon be so entirely defeated and the young noble couldn't help but capitalize.

Of course, Fawkes isn't entirely caught up in laughing at his master. His keen eyes run up and down the knight, trying to place the face to a name.

General Education: [roll0]

Fawkes
The Knight was the first born son of a rather minor noble, though his skill with a lance was well known. For him to lose the joust would mean any who bet against him would make quite the pretty bit of coin and many more would lost their dinner. By the Gods, Fawkes! Even when you try to do a good job, you still fail! The fat man was extremely flustered, his entire outfit drenched in sweat. The knight, it seems, had taken the distraction to slip away, the tail of his tabbard just disappearing around the bend.

Welidon sighs heavily and glowers at you. Come Fawkes. We shall leave the fabric with the seamstress and adjourn for the day. There is no more tasks for us to oversee tonight and I need my rest.

If you have anything to say, do so now. Or anything to do later in the night, as I'll be skipping you to the next day on the next post.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
Alright alright lassie! You've proved yar point. Yer wee bird and candle can out maneuver mah beastie any damn day. A deals a deal, yar can ride wich us. But yar must pull yar own weight! I don't wanna hear nuthin' bout a chipped nail! He recalled the beast and shuffled away, mumbling to himself.

If you have anything specific you want to do, do so now. Otherwise I'll skip you to the next bit.

[Arcran]

As soon as Welidon has turned Fawkes rolls his eyes, following his master. Of course Lord Lard required rest; that was all he did. Well, besides losing all of his money, apparently.

Fawkes follows closely, making sure to keep pace with Welidon which, given the size of the man, isn't all that difficult.

Skip skip skippity skip!

[Ajadea]

"You won't," she promises. Saminra keeps her promise, doing her best to pitch in around the ship. She's never worked on a ship before. It's not something she would do again. But she grits her teeth and keeps her promise. But every day, when she has time to spare, she wedges herself into a corner and releases both her friends, touching her mind to theirs. I should have taken the passenger ship.
You wanted to take this one before. Naishe in her mind is clear and sweet, a little motherly. Now a touch chiding. She perches on Saminra's knee, head cocked to one side.
That was before I got on it. I think my arms are going to fall off. Confusion-worry-caring. A soft chirp - that one was out loud. The Litwick floats up to her shoulder, peering at each one. Not - that was a figure of speech. I didn't mean it literally. Relief-happy. Adzara smacks her lips together. Ba ba ba ba. It had taken some time at first to recognize it as laughter, or a Litwick's analogue to such.
She's only a child. Give her time. It took me years to learn your strange human figures.
She's strong. A human voice breaks her from her reverie. Saminra presses her hand against the rough wooden floor, resisting the urge to hit something. I need to go. Keep resting, Nai. You're still hurt.
I am well-aware of that. Naishe grumbles, settling herself down into a more comfortable position.
Saminra hauls herself up. Back to work.

[weirdsound]

Tarn
The Governor looks at you, slightly dumbfounded. Yes, hello... His response was obviously forced. Zaim stepped in front of you, making a point of checking you with his shoulder. With an extravagant flourish, billowed his cape and bowed deeply. The Great Zaim Gradherse, Hunter-Explorer Extraordinaire at your service, my liege!

The Governor's face lit up with glee as he started clapping excitedly. Oh yes! Hello Mr. Gradherse, hello! And, ahem, hi Mr. Aldred. Its a pleasure to meet you both! He visibly flinched as his misspeak before quickly recovering. Please, please, do come in! I have a wonderful luncheon arranged for us in the garden. He motioned for you to follow, turning and heading inside, then turning around and half running, half-waddling back outwards. Oops! Forgot they are waxing the floors! Mustn't ruin their work! He motioned, again, for you to follow as he strode across the grounds with a wide, slightly loopy gait. So, Mr. Aldred. I've heard your from the North? The harsh Frozen Wastes? That must be fascinating! Despite his previous attitude towards you, he seemed genuinely interested. Fraught with danger at every turn! It must be so much fun!

Tarn allows a smile to break across his face. "It can be. As long as you learn to avoid the people who are keen on keeping things boring. The danger itself though is usually the non-fun sort; The fort is well defended against Pokemon Attacks, starvation and exposure are more common ways to die."

He shrugs. "That is why I got into guide work, and ended up falling in love with this Kingdom and its people. When Galla faces danger, it is usually at least of the sort against which you can fight back. Luckily for us all, last night it was something I was accustomed to fighting... Sort of. I've never seen an Abomasnow that big or mean before, and I've seen plenty in the wastes."

[MesiDoomstalker]

As soon as Welidon has turned Fawkes rolls his eyes, following his master. Of course Lord Lard required rest; that was all he did. Well, besides losing all of his money, apparently.

Fawkes follows closely, making sure to keep pace with Welidon which, given the size of the man, isn't all that difficult.

Skip skip skippity skip!

Fawkes
The entire trip home, as well as several hours beyond, was rife with verbal abuse from your master. Only after his voice was strained and hoarse did it finally stop and you could go to bed. The pattern of abuse continued for several more weeks, that day and the strange gypsy slowly slipping to the back of your mind. Not forgotten, but not the forefront. On a day like any other, after some more abuse you were sent on yet another trip to the market for some food for Lord Fatass's dinner that night. He had bemoaning his lack if ideas for festivities. Through your connections, you had caught word that if his next big galla was not a hit he'd be unceremoniously removed.

As you were perusing selections of mareep shank, you heard a familiar throat clearing. Behind you was the shrill Baroness Lilas. She looked down her pointed nose at you with an obvious air of superiority. Fawkes. she said, with the slightest hint of disdain. We must talk.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Saminra
The trip to Kamfrietta was difficult. While the waters were calm, the Captain was not. He demanded many things of you, and seemed to be putting the brunt of the work on you. Your determination carried you through. By the end of the journey you had garnered the respect of the Captain and his crew. Yar did well Missy. Better than I gave yer credit fer. Ye have me respect. If you need anything, you can count on me.

As you stepped off the boat, you noticed a stark difference between Bahna and Kamfrietta. While the Bahna wharf was far from the cleanest place, Kamfrietta was covered in a fine film of dirt, slime and mold. You didn't doubt that a swim in the waters would leave you covered in Grimer slop. As a first impression, this was horrible and it was not going to get any better.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Tarn allows a smile to break across his face. "It can be. As long as you learn to avoid the people who are keen on keeping things boring. The danger itself though is usually the non-fun sort; The fort is well defended against Pokemon Attacks, starvation and exposure are more common ways to die."

He shrugs. "That is why I got into guide work, and ended up falling in love with this Kingdom and its people. When Galla faces danger, it is usually at least of the sort against which you can fight back. Luckily for us all, last night it was something I was accustomed to fighting... Sort of. I've never seen an Abomasnow that big or mean before, and I've seen plenty in the wastes."

Tarn
The Governor cocked his head. What do you mean? They aren't big, mean and nasty and have a knack for property destruction? I thought they were always like that?

[Arcran]

Almost instinctively, Fawkes bends at the waist, bowing low.

"My lady," he says, taking special care to not blend the two words into one as so many lowborn did.

"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" While Fawkes couldn't know the details, he could guess at the broad strokes. If it was something typical the Noble would have had no need to come to him. If it was honest work, a courrier would do. That only left one option; something illegal. Still, no need to point those facts out.

[weirdsound]

Tarn
The Governor cocked his head. What do you mean? They aren't big, mean and nasty and have a knack for property destruction? I thought they were always like that?

"Pokemon from the wastes are nasty, mean, and no friend of property indeed..." Tarn agrees, "and the particular sort that showed up last night more so than just about any other, but Abomasnow doesn't get that big. Not even close. They get to be about a head taller than me, and that is it."

He keeps talking, not about to let Zaim cut in. "This one ate a fire attack and still had fight left in it, ignored a direct hit from a Pokeball, without even briefly vanishing, and just before it was finished off caused a blizzard that blew with more intensity than any other Pokemon spawned storm I have witnessed. I suppose a Pokemon like that could possibly exist in the northernmost reaches of the wastes, but not as far south as Fort Malvin, much less the heart of this Kingdom."

The rider shakes his head and smiles, "But it was beaten and destroyed regardless, and I have a good story to tell for it."

[Ajadea]

She expects the earth to rock underfoot when she disembarks from the ship. It takes a concerted effort to not sway, to stop trying to compensate for motion that doesn't exist here. The air itself feels thick and tainted, the road soft and acid-worn. Saminra holds her skirt up delicately and tries to avoid stepping in any large pools of sludge. It would be so nice to hide in an apricorn, to sleep through this and wake up somewhere fresher, cleaner. But humans couldn't fit, and someone needed to carry the carved balls around anyway. Kafrmietta itself clings to her skin, coating her skin with its corruption. She tries not to breathe too much, or too deeply.

Ever since she left the docks, she's been planning. Tracking down a conspiracy that could thread throughout the highest echelons of Carthak is no simple task. Commander Myrani had mentioned the Bloody Hand, but the prospect of investigating them is if anything far more daunting than looking into the nobility. Nevertheless, it is her best lead. Her first priority, however, is finding somewhere to stay. Hopefully not permanent, but with provisions that it could be. Suitable for her feigned status and ambition, nothing more than another servant to the nobility. But the choice of noble itself was critical, and to find that, she would need time.

Within the inner city then, buried in the masses. Only a couple steps above begging, just far enough out of the muck to rise to something better. A servant past the edge of her prime, seeking work as a maid, perhaps, or a messenger. Servants were invisible, too useful to dismiss and not significant enough to notice. Yes. That would work. Saminra lets herself be swept up with the crowd, just one among many making her fortune in the dingy city.