An Extended Family IC

[drack]

OOC: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?396026-An-Extended-Family-OOC
Old IC: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?382565-An-Extended-Family-%28IC%29


As she read the letter, expressions of shock, worry, horror, confusion, and finally relief played across her face like the display of a slot machine, the payout a cascade of questions.
"You knew the High Wizard? Wait– he knows me? And he thinks I'm– well, I did on occasion suspect– was it so obvious? But wait, if you told him I was a goddaughter, then who sent– wait, Godfather? Oh, I must have misread– then what about the letters I forged– well, at least my grades are safe..."

She blinked.
"So it's true then. I'm not the d'Mentha heiress. I'm not even their daughter." A shiver of dread crossed her face imperceptibly. Then the real heir is–... The thought was banished with a flippant shake of her head. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Keeping up appearances and all.
"I guess, in a way, this would be a step up. I had always despised the other d'Menthas."
...
...
...
"Sorry about the explosive runes. That was inappropriate."

The candles have burned low and everyone else is like to be abed. The earl, unable to keep up with all the questions just keeps smiling. As her thoughts all connect and begin to settle he shakes his head gently. "Don't worry about it, this has been hard for all of us, I'm just glad that I've had a chance to meet all my beautiful little grandchildren after all this time. If anything it should be me apologizing to you. I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I didn't reach out to you earlier, but... it's complicated."

He allows the silence to hang for a moment before continuing. "Corina did you, did you..." a gentle thud sounds from the hallway ... did you like your life? I mean with them.

OOC

Listen check DC 8 for Corina, DC 13 for Mirandelle, and DC 18 for everyone else.

Not sure if you guys would rather I roll this sort of thing or not. :smallconfused:


A muffled crashing sound can be heard as someone or something hits Mirandelle's door breaking the lock. A simple thud breaking the magical silence of sleep, and then... silence. A silence as profoundly unmoving as the solid stone walls that were supposed to protect you.

[Dycize]

The night had just started and Mirandelle was enjoying some sleep in a comfortable bed, well earned after such a surprising day.
But of course it would have been too easy otherwise, wouldn't it?
Mirandelle, despite her best efforts at relaxing, heard a quite suspicious crashing sound.
Alarmed by this, she instinctively grabs for her weapon near her and declares :
"Who's there?!"
Out loud.
Her eyes scan the room, unless it is too dark to see, in which case she searches for her everburning torch in her bag nearby.

[DoctorGlock]

A pew is a miserable place to sleep. Narrow, without even a gentle slope before the back of the 'seat' rises. Still, Lucien wanted the closeness of his gods tonight, so far from his lands up north... at least these pews were padded. He drifted off to sleep listening to the Song, it's uneasy melodies quieting in the presence of faith...

He was suddenly wide awake and bolt upright, splintering noise echoing away in his ears. Was I dreaming? No. He never heard the Song in his dream.The Song was tense, it's melody jumpy and discordant. Something was wrong -- and close. As soon as he realized it, something cold woke with it and slithered through his thoughts.

The game is afoot, Lucien thought as a small and savage smile split his face as he began to sprint with unearthly grace towards to source of the dissonance. The melody pricked at his mind like icy daggers...

Without noticing, he had began to hum in tune with the haunting melodies, his pupils dilating as he went, raven wings spreading as he took stairs three then ten at at time. The temperature in the hallway began to drop as unconsciously the fingers of his right hand began to rime over, nails extending into claws of frigid ice.

Light! thought the part of Lucien that was still conscious-- still him-- as he fumbled at his chest for his amulet, casting his surroundings into pale witch-light that flicked with the colors of the aurora.

Readying an action to open up with some blasty magic should we be under attack from other wicked faeries. The light source in his other hand is the spell Glowing Orb, a delightfully permanent light spell.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Bards were, as a rule, a keen-eared lot. Hearing was important to a performer, being able to perfectly discern even the most subtle changes in pitch, tempo, and rhythm. It was all the more important to be able to keep track of several sounds together, to pay attention both to how they blended and what each sounded like individually. That focus and attention to auditory detail could translate into more areas than just music; consummate gatherers of information, a skilled bard could keep track of a whispered conversation amidst the background noise of a party, tell the difference between the creaking of a loose floorboard being stepped on and the natural settling of an aged building, and say with authority to a scared child that the howling at the window was no angry ghost, but just the harmless wind. So naturally, no self-respecting bard would miss the sound of a crashing door amidst the silence of a house asleep. Be they singer, or instrumentalist, or even a dancer who needs must follow and anticipate the rhythm they move in time with, their ears would naturally be keen enough to make out such a contrast of sound.

But Ashley was none of those. Ashley was a storyteller. Her art was that of characterization over melody, of plot over tempo, of grammar over rhythm. So when the thud sounded, all she did was kinda turn over in her bed. It didn't even disturb her dreams.

[Qwertystop]

Such a long day, and so much happening. Funeral, assassins, cooking, socializing... find the bedroom door, be on the other side in nightclothes, get to sleep.

At least beds make sense. So much softer than forest-floor...

Still, with an assassin on the loose, can't be too safe... A decoy, to stand by the door. Inactive, but perhaps it would distract long enough to allow Art to wake. And there it is, staring blankly just inside the room.

Now, to sleep.

When a suspicious noise actually occurs, later in the night, Art's too busy having a comfortable bed (and very confused dreams of the past evening) to notice.

The "decoy" bit is assuming that we're not on such a tight schedule as to prevent taking two swift actions, a standard, and a move. That's reconfiguring to:
Current True Form:
[Inhabit] Puppet: 2 FP
Eye: 1 FP
[Minor] Limb: 2 FP
[Small] Mouth: 0 FP
4 free FP
(listed on sheet in Condition and Effects, can provide more detail if necessary)

Basically, the result is a puppet that's an extension of/looks like Art (therefore inactive while he's asleep) standing by the door in hopes of startling any potential assassins and/or making noise when it gets stabbed and falls over.

[Oneris]

The candles have burned low and everyone else is like to be abed. The earl, unable to keep up with all the questions just keeps smiling. As her thoughts all connect and begin to settle he shakes his head gently. "Don't worry about it, this has been hard for all of us, I'm just glad that I've had a chance to meet all my beautiful little grandchildren after all this time. If anything it should be me apologizing to you. I'm sorry... I'm sorry that I didn't reach out to you earlier, but... it's complicated."

He allows the silence to hang for a moment before continuing. "Corina did you, did you..." a gentle thud sounds from the hallway ... did you like your life? I mean with them.

OOC

Listen check DC 8 for Corina, DC 13 for Mirandelle, and DC 18 for everyone else.

Not sure if you guys would rather I roll this sort of thing or not. :smallconfused:


A muffled crashing sound can be heard as someone or something hits Mirandelle's door breaking the lock. A simple thud breaking the magical silence of sleep, and then... silence. A silence as profoundly unmoving as the solid stone walls that were supposed to protect you.

Despite the excitement of the day, or perhaps due to the sentimental musings of a doddering old man, Corina was swiftly losing interest in the conversation. Hard? Hard was reconciling deep-set pride with new-found bastardhood, not missing out on a few grandchildren. Reminded once again of how all other situations paled in comparison to her current predicament, her mood soured faster than cursed buttermilk and every word from the earl was thrown back with a scathing mental reply. Apologize? Certainly. Apologize for your philandering son ruining my life, why don't you!

But at the earl's question, she hesitated. An odd expression crossed her face for a moment before she turned away. "It was....convenient. It was convenient, that's all."

Her ear twitched at the odd sound in the hallway. Finally, a distraction. In all likelihood, it's probably just a painfully stupid maidservant dropping a laundry basket, but in the case that it wasn't...well, she was no stranger to midnight games of cat and mouse. Quite the opposite, it was almost like being back at school again.

Corina yawned lazily and stretched as magical energy swirled around her. When she blinked, her pupils, already of the lightest grey, appeared ghost white.

"Excuse me, milord. There is a commotion in the hall. "

The last the elderly lord saw of her was the hard glint of a sharp-edged knife as she faded from sight and out the door.


Standard Action: Cast Blindsight, last 7 minutes, 30ft range
Standard Action: Activate Vanisher cloak 1 charge: Invisibility for 4 rounds
Move: Move Silently [roll0] <Remind me to rank this next level
Ready Action to sneak attack with Lesser Acid Orb if source of noise appears Fey

[drack]

The night had just started and Mirandelle was enjoying some sleep in a comfortable bed, well earned after such a surprising day.
But of course it would have been too easy otherwise, wouldn't it?
Mirandelle, despite her best efforts at relaxing, heard a quite suspicious crashing sound.
Alarmed by this, she instinctively grabs for her weapon near her and declares :
"Who's there?!"
Out loud.
Her eyes scan the room, unless it is too dark to see, in which case she searches for her everburning torch in her bag nearby.
Four household guards slip into your room. The four of them look dreadfully nervous, each looking every which way as they enter as if expecting some bold new threat to have materialized from the shadows, yet no such foe does. "He's awake." One demands in a hushed voice.
One of the others curses under his breath. "Damn, this is your fault you know. You probably woke half the manor with all that noise."
"I'm sorry, did you want to give it a go? I said we should have gotten the keys." The first voice counters.
"No." A third voice adds. "They were going to notice one way or another and asking for the keys may have clued them in earlier. We should just do it quick before anyone comes."
Two of the guards charge, swords swinging as the other two move to cut off any chance of escape.

Don't know what gear Mirandelle is sleeping in/with, I'll leave that up to you.

Attack rolls
[roll0] (Vs. AC-4 because we sleep prone) for [roll1] slashing damage
[roll2] (Vs. AC-4 because we sleep prone) for [roll3] slashing damage

rough combat map https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13s-FzOQ_dGEBFRVO1LOxY9-xf828AXlYEBFnpXymKjY/edit#gid=0

Corina and Lucien enter the hall just in time to see four of the Earl's guards run into Mirandelle's room.

Caught off guard the Earl follows Corina to the entryway. "Why, by the forefathers, what's going on?"

Ashley&Art are woken by what comes next as the clanging of swords echos through the hallway.

[Dycize]

Well she's definitely not sleeping with her breastplate or heavy shield... Which means her AC is quite awful right now. 13 to be exact. And actually even less because she is still Punishing Stance ready, which is another -2... Outch 19 damage. This is starting really badly isn't it.
Initiating a Disarming Strike as a standard action on one of the two guards, not gonna try to stand up because... Well it's not gonna help and provoking AoOs in this situation is just asking to be beat up even more.
Attack roll (base 11 - 4 because prone) : [roll0]
If hit, damage : [roll1]
Punishing stance damage : [roll2]
If the attack hits, free disarm attempt from Disarming Strike (doesn't provoke AoOs, can't get disarmed back) : [roll3]
Let's just pray that inital attack hits...

Mirandelle, now clearly woken up by this most disagreeable feeling of getting assaulted, by the manor's very guards at that, attempts to not make her situation too worse.
And here they thought the faes might attack 1st...
"Why are you attacking me?!"
She exclaims this time, hoping to make enough noise that other, nicer people would actually come help out. And maybe they could actually give her an answer which would always be a plus.
She swings her heavy pick towards a guard's hand, attempting to make him lose his grip on his weapon, which would help her stall at least one of them...

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley was jolted awake by the crashing of the blades, awakening with her heart pounding. She looked desperately around her room for a moment as she struggled to orient herself, before realizing the sounds were coming from out in the hallway. Grabbing her component pouch from her nightstand as she went, she leaped from bed and moved, quickly but quietly, into the hall, terrified at the thought that the siblings she had only just met might be in danger. (Lucien was right. Listen to Lucien.)

What, exactly, she expected to accomplish with no weapons but her nails and no armor but her ring was uncertain, but she was quite comfortable figuring that out later.

I'm working on the assumption that it's a double move to basically get to the scene, between getting out of bed, opening the door, and actual movement. Also figuring that grabbing the component pouch is about equivalent to drawing a weapon, so doable as part as a move action. But correct me if I'm wrong on any of that. (Map is private, so it may be more, but should get me in the vicinity at least).

Hide: [roll0].
Move Silently: [roll1].

EDIT: Rock on Ashley! Yay sneaky bards!

Includes a -5 penalty for moving at full speed, but hopefully that'll be offset by a distraction penalty for the guards being in combat.

Ashley I figure would be wearing her cloak (just because I'm not honestly sure how mental ability score boosting items interact with spells per day if they are removed before sleep, so I figure she'd just get used to wearing it to sleep) and magical jewelry (because one of them is a ring of sustenance anyway so if she's going to be wearing that she might as well wear the others.) No armor or shield though, so her AC is currently 14.

[drack]

The pick stabs cleanly through the guard's hand causing him to drop his own sword which clatters as it hits the stone floor..
Barely managing to strangle his cry of pain, the guard appears far too preoccupied to answer your inquiry which his companions disregard in kind.
OOC
Sneaky bards indeed! :smallbiggrin: No way they'll notice that.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien practically glided down the hall like a shadow of menace borne of darkened wings. Kicking off the opposite he leaped into the room to see an unexpected tableau.

The keep guards attacking his half-sister was not the assassin he planned for. It didn't matter. He was too caught up in the song only he could hear, hand already snapping up into inhuman patterns to weave mystic energy. The room grew frigid as frost rimed over over the stones and a blinding burst of fine, scintillating icy razors exploded in the center of the room.

As the ice drifted to the flagstones, Mirandelle and the unaffected guards see Lucien standing hunched over, an ice encrusted hand extended like a crone's claw towards them as the other caresses the tear shaped opals of his pendant. Horse words like the croaking of ravens gurgle from his throat in the language of the elder fae. Whatever they are, they sound most unwholesome, every syllable laced with the cruelty of his lineage.

Move to K 14
L17 glitterdust hits 3 guards and not mirandelle.
DC 17 or blind 7 rounds
Swift action activate amulet of tears for +18 temp HP.

Note, should the unblinded guard charge me, I have abrupt jaunt as an immediate action to GTFO of dodge

[Qwertystop]

Awake. Why? Noise. Clashing//clanging//blades and blood... assassins.
Distraction.

The puppet charges out towards the noise, screaming wildly, then vanishes while Art collects himself.

Armor? No time. Projectile? No. Too complex. Simple. Fighting, fighting, tooth and tendril...

And Art, bleary-eyed but ready, arrives at the door

Free action to move the puppet up to my speed - assuming it was at E7 (entrance to room, inside), that puts it around G11, if the door doesn't present a problem. If it does I'll rewrite.

Swift action to go back to Guise (so the puppet vanishes)
Move action to add (up to) 3 FP:

2 Claws
1 Tentacle
Move action to run to the door (F7 from C12, if I can diagonal that corner) (still looking like a normal person, still in nightclothes)

[Oneris]

The door of the bedroom across the hall was smashed, the tail end of the strange winged not-paladin vanishing across the threshold.

Anticipation swirled up to quicken her wits as memories a quite similar scene filled her mind, of the midnight raid by campus police her second year into school. Those spice-and-alcohol-infused chocolates had been well worth their cost: breaking four import laws, a six hour holdout in the attic, and ultimately 20 demerits per person and a 500gp fine.

The scene within the room was, unexpectedly, much the same. Once again, a quartet of 'protectors' assailed a hapless victim; the mansion's own guards instead of discipline officers, the one called Mirandelle instead of a smuggler student. With so many similarities, what harm could come in continuing the trend?

Corina, still invisible, shoved past the fae-touched ex-paladin and unleashed the frustration of the day in the form of 500 pounds of screamingly furious black and white fur with an incongruous addition of a halo. If the old earl really loved his bastard scions as much as he claimed, she'd easily be forgiven.


Move to L14
Rapid Summoning Augmented Celestial Dire Badger at M19 (I'm still invisible)
Dire Badger standard attacks with claw G4
Attack: [roll0]
Damage[roll1]

Augmented Celestial Dire Badger
Medium Magical Animal, (Augmented Animal, Extraplaner);
HD 3d8+21; HP 34;
Init +3; Speed 30 ft., burrow 10 ft.;
Attack/Grapple +4/+6; Attack Claw +6 melee (1d4+4); Full Attack 2 Claw +6 melee (1d4+4) and bite +1 melee (1d6+3);
SA Rage, Smite Evil; SQ Darkvision 60 ft., scent, resist Acid Cold Elec 5, Spell Resistance 8;
Saves Fort +9, Ref +6, Will +4; Abilities Str 18, Dex 17, Con 23, Int 3, Wis 12, Cha 10;
Skills Listen +6, Spot +6; Feats Alertness, Toughness, Track; AL CG.
Smite Evil: Once per day this celestial creature can make a normal melee attack to deal +3 additional damage against an evil foe.
Rage: A badger that takes damage flies into a berserk rage on its next turn. It gains +4 Str, +4 Con, and –2 AC. A badger cannot end its rage voluntarily

[drack]

The heavy longsword clatters on the stone floor as a cloud of sparkling dust forms about the guards. As the badger materializes and begins clawing one of the guard's legs, he jumps visibly. Keeping his voice as calm and quiet as he can, which isn't very, the guard says "Guys... There's something on my leg! What's on my leg?"
"Damn'it man, it's just an oversized rat. Ignore it and kill the kid, don't you want to get out of here?"
Groping blindly, the disarmed guard feels about for his sword, accidentally knocking it under the bed before he reclaims it. Clutching it tightly, as if fearful of loosing it, the guard holds it in front of him, uncertain.
Anxiously the last guard adds "Hey, the other kids are waking up, just kill 'er and kill her fast."
Madly the four of them swing their swords, up, down, up, down. Nothing to it, just kill the kid. Still, frantic haste was slowly slipping into their motions. Clearly they had intended to be done with it quickly and quietly before they could be found.

[roll0] for [roll1] damage
[roll2] for [roll3] damage 1-50 misses [roll4]
[roll5] for [roll6] damage 1-50 misses [roll7]
formerly disarmed guard doesn't attack this turn

[Quellian-dyrae]

On those rare occasions - rarer still as time went on - that Ashley's father came to visit, he always told her a story.

Ashley's heart was pounding, her mind a whirl of fear and confusion, as she quickly but quietly approached Mirandelle's room, still having no particular idea what she was going to do when she got there, knowing only that her sister was in danger and she had to do something to help.

One story had stuck out in her mind. It was the tale of a young minstrel. He had been accosted on the road by bandits, robbed, stabbed, and left for dead.

She had magic after all. Sure, not particularly, you know, combat-worthy magic. But still, magic! She could make stuff float really well! Maybe she could float something and bonk a guy on the head with it! That would probably hurt pretty bad! (It wasn't like these guys were mountain trolls, after all...)

But he was found by a group of knights, patrolling the lands for their king, and the knights saved his life, tended his wounds. They offered to escort him back to his town, and he agreed, but on the way they found the bandits' tracks. They knew if they took the time to bring the minstrel home first, while he would be safe, the trail would likely wear away, and the bandits might yet hurt another. The minstrel agreed that they must be stopped, and followed the knights to their lair, though he had no weapons, nor skill with using them.

She halted dead when she reached Mirandelle's doorway, beholding the scene. She saw the guards, four people who were supposed to be protecting them, surrounding the bed. She saw Mirandelle, lying before her attackers, fighting desperately for her life. She saw the badger, the motes of ice, the efforts of her other siblings to protect one of their own.

But the bandits heard the knights approaching, and lay in ambush. A terrible battle ensued, and the minstrel stood helpless, watching the people who had saved his life now risking theirs' to bring justice to those who had robbed and nearly killed him. And there was nothing he could do to help them.

She saw her sister's blood bright upon their blades.

The helplessness brought fear, the fear brought anger. Deep, burning anger beyond anything he ever felt. In a fury, he gave voice to it, booming forth a song of battle, of challenge, to embolden and strengthen the knights...

Ashley's voice came forth not as a scream, not as a shriek, but as a roar, echoing through the castle, booming in the ears of those around her, filling her siblings with feelings of strength, of power...

"Get! AWAY! FROM MY! SISTER!"

...And their blades were bathed in Flame!

Move: Into H13.

Swift: Cast Inspiration Boost.

Standard: Activate Dragonfire Inspiration with Words of Creation (Ashley takes [roll0] nonlethal damage). All allies (INCLUDING THE BADGER!!!) now deal +4d6 additional fire damage with each attack.

Current HP: 40/40 (4 Nonlethal).

[Dycize]

Think fast, the situation's not good, but they are close now. The glitter and the giant creature are telling. The guards still active and desperate. I can't let them do as they please!

Straightening her back up near the wall, Mirandelle grabs the bed with her left hand and steels herself.
If this hits, she can reposition ever so slightly to a much more elaborate defense than laying in a bed...
If not, only gods know.
She swings at one of the blinded guards that attacked her.

Initiating the Stone Bones manoeuver! Standard attack, if the attacks hits, get DR5/Adamantium for 1 round.
Attack roll : [roll0]
Damage : [roll1]
Punishing stance damage [roll2]

[Qwertystop]

Art continues running in, past Ashley, and sees... three guards, and two siblings, and... a bear?

And his sister is cornered. He was right; an assassination.

"Ţhi̕s ̷c̡an̴ nǫt b͜e

al̷̶l̨oẁ̶eḑ̵͡ ͘to̶ ̨͟͢p͘͜͞á͘s҉͜ş́.̧"

And his hands twist and stretch and lengthen, and one arm echoes, moves without moving to leave a rope of muscle behind, and even his blind foes somehow see as claw and long tendril ignite in Ashley's rage.

Leave

us

be.

Double-move to A15
Swift action to Manifest against the three guards and the Dire Badger: DC 17 Will or Shaken, passing gives 24 hour immunity

[drack]

She swings at one of the blinded guards that attacked her.

The guard raises his shield to block the oncoming attack, but the pick snaps cleanly through a weakened portion of the wood and into an artery in the man's arm. As the flaming weapon ignites the whole of the shield, the guard falls backwards, stumbling into the badger as the world about him, wrapped in dancing flames as it is, goes dark.

[DoctorGlock]

Claws of razor ice extended from Lucien's fingers, twitching in anticipation. The will know fear. Skin them alive! They will suffer for daring to lay a hand on what is rightfully mine! I am going to enjoy this thoroughly... came the possessive, bitter thoughts of winter...

Then the courage of dragonfire clashed with the cruelty of winter ice in Lucien's mind, his Song shattered by another. His eyes refocused as his mind snapped back to the world around him, the desperation of his sibling's palpable.

'That's my sister, scum', he growled, voice still a hoarse, raven-like croak.

We do not relish combat for the violence, the sword for it's brightness or the beating of the drums. Violence is a tool. We relish that which we must protect with that terrible tool, his fathers words echoed. He might not have been made a paladin, but the lessons had stuck. And when you resolve yourself on such a path, make it mercifully swift and complete!

And he focused all of Winter's hate and fury into a frigid lance of howling wind and gnashing teeth.

'Consider this your warning,' he said as he released it at the apparent leader.

Cut off the head, and the rest of the serpent follows.

Reserves of strength +3 on manyjaws, the guy who isn't blind, reflex DC 18 half, force damage, [roll0], repeats so long as i maintain concentration up to 3 rounds on a single target, i can change targets at will.

next turn as a swift i use quick recovery to negate stun. DC 12, roll will [roll1]

jeez, i've seen low rolls, but -30% damage even before they save? the **** RNG

[Oneris]

Corina rolled her eyes invisibly as her badger wreathed in flame. You'll all regret that soon, and the upholstery most of all.

Well, if the floor and upholstery's going to go, why not the ceiling and walls as well? With a quick snap, she detached a stone the color of warm honey from a chain about her neck and flung it near the badger. As the stone sailed through the air it began bulging, stretching, darkening until it flew on a pair of gossamer wings. A wickedly sharp needle the length of a longsword tipped its bulbous abdomen. The creature reared back and charged, needle first.

In the confusion of tooth and talon and twisted flesh and frigid spikes and fiery song, Corina silently moves into position behind the guard near the wall.


Standard: Amber Amulet of Vermin summon Giant Wasp at L/M/16/17 for 10 rounds
Move: to J17, still invisible: [roll0]

Dire Badger will save: [roll1] -2 to all attacks if failed
Dire Badger attacking G4: Flanking full attack: 2xClaw +8 melee (1d4+4) and bite +3 melee (1d6+3);
Claw1 Attack: [roll2] Damage: [roll3] Fire: [roll4]
Claw2 Attack: [roll5] Damage: [roll6] Fire: [roll7]
Bite: Attack: [roll8] Damage: [roll9] Fire: [roll10]

Giant Wasp at LM16/17 attacking G2: Flanking full attack: Sting +8 melee (1d3+6 plus poison fort 14);
Sting Attack: [roll11] Damage: [roll12] No fire because mindless :smallfrown:
Poison: [roll13] Dex Damage


Size/Type: Large Vermin
Hit Dice: 5d8+10 (32 hp)
Initiative: +1; Speed: 20 ft. (4 squares), fly 60 ft. (good)
Armor Class: 14 (-1 size, +1 Dex, +4 natural), touch 10, flat-footed 13
Base Attack/Grapple: +3/+11
Attack: Sting +6 melee (1d3+6 plus poison); Full Attack: Sting +6 melee (1d3+6 plus poison)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Poison (Ex): Injury, Fortitude DC 14, initial and secondary damage 1d6 Dex. The save DC is Constitution-based.
Special Qualities: Darkvision 60 ft., vermin traits
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +2, Will +2
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 12, Con 14, Int Ø, Wis 13, Cha 11
Skills: Spot +9, Survival +1*

[drack]

Eagerly the badger tears the man limb from limb picking pieces of him off like so many berries on a sundae.

[drack]

"Kill her, NOW" the guard who can see exclaims. He had to focus on the task at hand, he had to kill her, she had shown herself capable of felling a guard after all, and when she was dead he'd only need to worry about... about keeping the other guard focused on anything-but when that thing decided it would tear another man limb from limb. Then he'd run, he'd escape, he'd live a pleasant peaceful life in...
Fighting through the pain of the evil spell that gnawed at his sides with all his might and determination, the guard brought his blade down on the wounded girl as his blinded ally followed suit.

[roll0] for [roll1] slashing damage
[roll2] (-2 for shaken so 9 actually) for [roll3] slashing damage 1-50 misses [roll4]

[DoctorGlock]

Competence is a worrying trait in an enemy, father had said. Better the cackling madman, stroking his goatee over a sacrificial virgin, monologuing an omnicidal plan than a foe who can retain a cool head in battle.

The leader of the rogue sentries... well, Lucien wasn't quite sure where he stood. Had he been competent, he probably would have surrendered or ran.

'You were warned,' Lucien said, with cold finality.

[roll0] as i maintain concentration on the spell

[drack]

Silently, as if still willing that alternate future into existence with all his will, the guard falls, the magical jaws still tearing at his flesh even after he's died, leaving his ally blissfully unaware of his new found solitude.

[Dycize]

Wounded, Mirandelle lets out a pained yell as the guard slashes at her.
Almost. Almost the end. She just needs to count on them, and it will be over...
Exhausted, she gathers her last strengths in putting her back against the wall and looking out for her life.

Not much to say here, taking a full defense action. Standard action, so gonna drop at -1 next turn. Let's hope this +4 dodge AC will help!

[Oneris]

Just as she lined up the perfect pathway for her knife into his kidneys, the unfortunate sentry dropped dead, ripped apart by icy wind sharp as razors. Corina looked back at the non-paladin called Lucien. Scary, but good. At least this house won't be short of competence. One more to go.

"Badger, Wasp, get that man away from her. We're going to see if he likes to fly." As she stepped over the dead guard at her feet, she leaned in to hiss in the living guard's ear. "By the way, you really don't want to attack the badger."

She slid onto the destroyed bed to sit next to the grievously injured girl and slapped at her face to keep her conscious. Where her fingers struck a small spot of transparency grew, and within seconds nothing was left save a pool of blood and an odd depression. "Try not to bleed too much. He'll still be able to see the stains."


The goal is for the Badger to disarm him and the Wasp to grab him and lift him into the air

Badger Disarm: -4 due to natural weapons counting as light
Move to L19
Opposed attack roll Claw1: [roll0]
Opposed attack roll Claw2: [roll1]
Opposed attack roll Bite: [roll2]

Wasp: Grapple bonus: +11
Melee attack roll: [roll3]
Melee touch attack : [roll4]<- I just used the base +3 BAB for this one because I didn't know what it meant by melee touch attack. If I calculated it from Strength+BAB+Flank, it should probably be at +9
Opposed Grapple: [roll5] <- Size Large
Unarmed Strike damage: I have no idea.
Move into his square
Opposed Grapple to raise/fly him up to ceiling as high as it goes: [roll6]

Meanwhile, Corina moves to J19 and uses the last 2 charges of Vanisher cloak to give herself and Mirandelle invisibility for 3 rounds.

[drack]

The blinded guard doesn't seem to even notice the badger floundering at his sword, but as he feels the wasp begin to wrap about him he swings sis blade up in a sharp backhanded slash at the giant beast.

AoO
[roll0] for [roll1] damage whoops, -2 on that and 50% miss. :smallconfused:
opposed grapple check [roll2]

Blinded as he is the guard's sword catches nothing but air. All the same he manages to shrug off the wasp, keeping it's furry form from his face.

[DoctorGlock]

'You are alone, in the dark, surrounded by monsters,' Lucien croaked, voice more under control now. 'I give you one chance. Have you a family? Wife? Children? Do not make them widow and orphans. Will a messenger arrive to tell your mother of your demise? Will she hear that you fell in the line of duty, or committing a treasonous act? Is this how you want to go? Alone and beset by monsters? I give you one chance-- surrender now, and as a member of the Order of the Sacred Flame you have my oath that your life will be spared.'

The cold and spiteful part of Lucien mentally added 'You'd be surprised what a man can live through.'


Talking off turn, if he is still fighting when I act again he takes the last round of manyjaws [roll0] unless I have to intervene to save Mirandelle.

[Qwertystop]

He gives you a chance. I say you have already had enough of a chance.
And in one motion, he steps forward and his claws, burning, pierce the last guard.

Move to J17
Claw attack on remaining guard:
[roll0]
[roll1]

[drack]

The final guard falls to the ground, the broad side of his back bathed in flames. The pounding of feet in the hallway in drowned out by the dying guard's final scream as he passes to the next world.

Suddenly the Earl arrives at the door with seven guards in toe. Gesturing with his hand as he enters he signals for four to take positions about the door as himself and the other three enter the room. The room was a mess, guards torn limb from limb while others were covered in blackened scorch marks, and at the center of it all was a bed soaked in blood with poor Mirandelle hacked apart to within an inch of her life. Rushing over the Earl takes her hand. "Mirandelle! Mirandelle! Are you all right? Why..." gesturing to the guards he shouts angrily "Get over here! Don't any of you know medical care? Gods you're useless, go find me someone who does! Mirandelle, Mirandelle dear, don't worry, everything's going to be alright, how do you feel?" Hastily one of the guards runs from the room, presumably to find help.

[Dycize]

"Thank you... Everyone..."
Mirandelle winces in pain, letting go of her grip on her weapon.
They were dead. The danger was away.
All that was left was the stench of blood and her family.

The Earl arrived and took her hand. He talked to her, she heard her name.
"Sir... I'm glad."
She started smiling, but winced in pain again.
Her free hand slowly pointed to her bag next to the bed.
"I have potions... "
She kept her movements to a minimum, still breathing heavily, her mind still in a daze, trying to keep focus.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley ran over to Mirandelle as the last guard fell. "Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods," she breathed, tears in her eyes.

The Earl's words brought her some semblance of clarity. "Wands! I have...wait, wait here!" she said, running back to her room with all speed, and returning with two slender ivory sticks tipped with pale yellow crystals.

Rushing back over to her sister, she pointed one of the wands and started pouring its magic into her. She managed to keep her self control until there was nothing left of Mirandelle's injuries but maybe soreness and bruising, at which point she broke down completely, throwing her arms around Mirandelle and sagging against her, sobbing. "You're...you're okay. P-p-please be ok-kay..." she whispered.

It'll probably be, what, three rounds for Ashley to get her wands? So Mirandelle'd be at -4.

I'm going to heal her until she's within 14 points of max. Ashley has a Ring of Sustenance, and with a WoC-boosted Inspire Competence can Take 10 on the Heal check required to provide long-term care, which can take care of the rest through natural healing over the course of the night. But for now, buncha rolls, will only apply them until at least 40 points have been cured:

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]
[roll12]
[roll13]
[roll14]

That's 44 healed, so Mirandelle should be up to 40 by my count.

[DoctorGlock]

More uniformed guards burst into the room and Lucien whirled, icy fury howling around him, ready to be released on the next target... until he recognized the familiar figure of the earl. Swallowing hate and anger, Lucien let the arctic blast die down. He rushed over to his sister's side, frantically searching his belt and pouches for anything that might help. Thankfully, his other sister was faster to the task, and far better equipped.

'She's safe now?' Lucien asked, before kneeling next to the lead assassin's corpse and beginning to search his gear and pockets. He nodded to Corina. 'Sis-' He stopped himself, remembering her last reaction. 'Corina d'Menthis,' he corrected himself, 'I'd appreciate your help searching the bodies, in case any were stupid enough to carry written orders for their contract,' he said pointedly. No, he did not trust the earl.

[drack]

OOC

Guard 2's possessions

Guard 2 has only the standard issue hide armor, longsword, and heavy wooden shield

if similarly searched...
Guard 3's possessions

Guard 3 has only the standard issue hide armor, longsword, and heavy wooden shield

Guard 4's possessions

Guard 4 has only the standard issue hide armor, longsword, and heavy wooden shield

Guard 1's possessions

Guard 1 also has the standard issue hide armor, longsword, and heavy wooden shield, though he also has a bag of unmarked gold coins. Judging by the weight about a thousand.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien draws out the bag of coins and holds them aloft. 'Entirely unmarked,' he says as he opens the bag. 'Just blank gold discs, perfect deniability. This was a contracted hit, and it looks like it isn't just our faen assassins that have stake in this. Who profits...' he mutters, trailing off.

[drack]

Never once taking his eyes from his wounded granddaughter the Earl shakes his head. "No, we don't know that. Fey have as much access to gold as anyone else. If you'd like I could have an acquaintance in the city, a specialist in such things, look at those coins tomorrow, but there's nothing we can do for it in the middle of the night. I recommend we get what sleep we can."

[Qwertystop]

"Oh, it's a good thing we all got here in time," Art croaks, as he reaches out to

-invalid-

Art pulls back, distorts back to a human shape, then reaches out to try to comfort Mirandelle.
"Sorry."

[Oneris]

Corina lightly hopped off the bed as she shimmered back into view and examined herself in the mirror. Dark patches of blood and specks of soot stained her dress and her hair was frizzed from the heat. She swatted at a blotch ineffectively, then sighed and wove her fingers into a magical sign. It wasn't a habit to do her own cleaning, but some things had changed in the last 24 hours. A cloud of multicolored sparkles washed over her from head to toe, leaving her as pristine as she'd arrived.

The sound of inelegant blubbering brought her attention back to the others. The gold-haired girl was once again making a mess of herself and the injured one with her textbook inability to modulate her emotions, while the eldritch one struggled to resemble a human. How could they ever be related?


'She's safe now?' Lucien asked, before kneeling next to the lead assassin's corpse and beginning to search his gear and pockets. He nodded to Corina. 'Sis-' He stopped himself, remembering her last reaction. 'Corina d'Menthis,' he corrected himself, 'I'd appreciate your help searching the bodies, in case any were stupid enough to carry written orders for their contract,' he said pointedly. No, he did not trust the earl.

But Lucien... Hearing her proper name brought smile to Corina's face. As she knelt down and began rifling through the corpse's possessions, she replied quietly."You fought admirably, Sir Knight. At least for the moment, I am your sister."

[DoctorGlock]

...Sir Knight...

Lucien paused as his fingers brushed over a jagged chunk of frozen flesh, now beginning to thaw in the heat of the dragonfire. He suppressed a shudder as he looked around him. The floors and wall were still thick with rime, patches outright sublimating into the air in places. The cold hate was receding, and now he just felt empty... and more than a little queasy.

Control. A man must have control of himself. A knight especially so, his father said, looking about the frozen courtyard. The grass was torn asunder, sharp spires of ice jutting from the ground. The next day it would be dead, the midsummer frost something even the most skilled groundskeeper had not planned for. The wood of the adjoining stable had cracked and split under the frigid onslaught. Sticking out of the frozen ground was a blunted training sword. A matching one hung limply from Lucien's numb hand. The clerics had taking the other novice away. They would be able to save him, but had they come much later...

Lucien looked back at the blunt sword sticking from the snow. It's iron blade had seemed so much more menacing before.

You cannot afford such lapses, he said, gesturing at the destruction.

The boy had lived. Lucien had never been allowed to spar again.

Control. It was why he was never made a Knight. Why he had been most unceremoniously evicted from the order and the keep, if not quite officially.

Still, perhaps he could be a Knight of sorts to his maybe-siblings. It was something. Provided you don't lose control... he thought, as cold memories of the dinner events resurfaced with the grim presence of a iceberg in the path of a ship. The keening of Song, and the cold joy part of him had felt when he unleashed Winter's fury on the assassins. When he did that, he had not been thinking of his sister...

Control...

Gods above he was tired. He gave Corina a wan smile. 'Thank you. You gave a fair show yourself,' he said equally softly, before gripping the side of the bed to avoid slipping on the melting ice and heaving himself to his feet and facing his uncle.

'Should the evidence vanish with morning's light or the touch of iron we will know if it is faerie gold. How much of it will you need for your investigations? I have a mind to ply some of my own, and the thought of spending the enemy's own coin against them fulfills my sense of justice, as does using some it of to recompense the resources needed to heal our sister.'

[Dycize]

Mirandelle finally breathed a sigh of relief after Ashley healed her. It was still hurting a bit, but she was no longer risking her life by moving too hard.
Her right hand reached to Ashley's back, and she gave her a light pat on the back.
"It's alright, no need to cry, I'm fine now, thanks for the healing, Ashley."
She then turned her head to the crowd now assembled in her room.
"And thank you all too for coming to my rescue. Lucien, Arthur... Miss d'Mentha. I would've been dead without your intervention. I owe you my life."
She listened to her siblings investigating. So the guards were paid for this. Not surprising, still worrying.
And Art will really take some getting used to...
She takes a breath.
"So, this may be fake gold? Nice to know I am worth fake money. Whenever we do this, I just want to say, I don't intend on sleeping alone anymore."
She looks a bit around her.
"...And I'd rather not sleep in my own blood."
Again. Well last time was less dramatic, but still a disagreeable experience.
She checks herself and her wounds, getting some blood off of her.
?...
She marks a small pause while checking on her back, on which can be vaguely seen an ice blue, swirly, wing shaped tattoo spreading between her shoulders hidden under some blood.
She quickly covers it back up with her clothes and goes back to listening to her siblings.
It grew...

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley managed to get control of herself, and the calm came easier still as the residual energy of the bardic magic she had wielded faded away. What was that?

"Sorry," she said to the group with a slight, embarrassed laugh, before turning her attention to the matter at hand.

"Even if it doesn't disappear, we don't want to rule out the fey, I don't think. Just because they can use fake gold doesn't mean they did. They'd still be my top choice of suspects, anyway. Although...I wonder why they went after you. Even when all of us were in here, they kept targeting you. Is there...I mean, do you know of anyone else who would want to hurt you, Mirandelle?"

At the comment about sleeping in her own blood, Ashley's face brightened. "I can help with that," she said, looking at the covers and narrating, "Upon the bed were soft sheets and a warm blanket, looking as if they had just been laundered that morning." The blood began to swiftly fade from the bedclothes, leaving them just as they had been before.

Current Spells: 2/4/3/1.

[drack]

Gods above he was tired. He gave Corina a wan smile. 'Thank you. You gave a fair show yourself,' he said equally softly, before gripping the side of the bed to avoid slipping on the melting ice and heaving himself to his feet and facing his uncle.

'Should the evidence vanish with morning's light or the touch of iron we will know if it is faerie gold. How much of it will you need for your investigations? I have a mind to ply some of my own, and the thought of spending the enemy's own coin against them fulfills my sense of justice, as does using some it of to recompense the resources needed to heal our sister.'

The Earl shakes his head "I don't know the details, but last time he told me the more coins the better his odds of determining where they came from."

[Oneris]

"That may all be very well, but how should we know these four be the only assassins? The rest of the guards; are they too of such ill-discipline their loyalty can so easily be bought? And the house-staff; must we now fear poison in our food, needles in our beds?" Deep inside, Corina was shaking. She'd never had to seriously fear assassination before, and now the possibility was all too real.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien shared Corina's aprehensions... Silverhold was, for all his own difficulties, a sheltered place, and everyone was direct and more or less honest. And yet another part of him was visciously eager, and the worldsong beat a quickening pace, racing Lucien's heartbeat with it.

Yes, the game is very much afoot, and winter's court now holds dominion at Roderick Manor... deception, paranoia and cruelty unbound, and the season changes to one more our liking...

'The answer is to embrace paranoia,' Lucien murmurs, the pale aurora light of his amulet glinting fell in his eyes. 'Tonight we will share a room or two, as many together as we can. On the morrow I can devise a solution to our sleeping concerns. We must prepare our food ourselves, thankfully, he nods to Ashley and Art, 'our siblings have proven quite adept at that, bar some abnormalities...'

Lucien turns towards the Earl. 'For now, we will retain the blood-gold and ply our divinations upon it. Perhaps we shall take it to your source should those fail.'

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley let out a soft sigh as Corina and then Lucien spoke. They were right is what the problem was. Ashley didn't want to embrace paranoia.

But it was necessary to ensure her family's safety, and frankly, not an easy thing not to do in any case. She was already casting wary glances at the guards who had entered with her grandfather. She didn't want to not trust them...but that bag contained a lot of gold, especially compared to a guard's salary.

"I don't need to sleep much," she said. "My ring like..helps with that, or something. So if someone can keep a watch for a couple hours, I can the rest of the night. Consolidating rooms sounds smart too, and I was half planning to cook for us anyway, so that's no problem...

But it is a stop-gap solution. We need to know who we can trust."

She intoned a quick spell, a certain power entering her voice as she said, "It is for the narrator to plot a story's course." Then she looked to the guards. "Were any of you approached? Offered a deal like this? If you were...you can tell us, you know. You haven't acted on it, so it wouldn't be too late."

Casting Improvisation.

Diplomacy to try to persuade the guards to speak up if they were approached: [roll0].
Bluff to try to prompt a reaction from them even if they don't speak up: [roll1].
And Sense Motive to get a general read on them, notice any such reactions, and/or oppose any Bluff checks they respond with: [roll2].

All three checks include three of her Improvisation points.

Current Spells: 2/3/3/1.

[drack]

"No, I don't buy it. More likely the Fey wish to divide us and make us leave this place the added safety it provides."


Neither of the two guards in the room confesses to being approached, admittedly I don't really see the bluff to provoke an unintended response bit in the lines though. :smallconfused:

[Qwertystop]

"Paranoia might be misnaming;

they really are out to get us."
She can just say the bed is clean, and I'm the odd... no. Life//death//family is more important.

"I can help keep watch. Who watches first?"

[Oneris]

"No, I don't buy it. More likely the Fey wish to divide us and make us leave this place the added safety it provides."
"If this is 'safe' then I shudder to see what horrors we should suffer outside these walls.
Might I remind you that to arrive at this keep was not a mere ten-minute afternoon outing but a journey of many days, during which none of us were so harassed until now.
Indeed, I would wager that the assassins had not even known our faces before such a concentration of targets was formed."

[DoctorGlock]

'Indeed from the beginning the funeral seems to serve little other purpose but to concentrate the blood all in one place...' Lucien muttered. 'They likely knew not of our existence let alone our faces before this... to the paranoid, it would almost seem orchestrated. So they question remains: outside of the fae with alien motives, who stands to profit most from pruning the family tree?'

[Quellian-dyrae]

"If you can take first watch, I can cover the rest of the night," Ashley said to Art.

She frowned at Corina's words. "Um, as I recall, the only reason none of us can say we were harassed on the way here is because the two of us who were harassed didn't make it." There was an undeniable tone of bitterness in her voice at the thought of the two siblings she would never meet. "So that makes them zero for one at the manor against two for two away from it." Zero for two in truth, since their father had survived the attack on him, but she didn't say that out loud with non-family present. Just because she didn't want to be paranoid didn't mean she couldn't be.

Zero for two, but both of them close calls, she thought grimly. "We are going to have to step up security, though. And re-vet the guards and staff. That's just prudent. And we should probably check on the rest of the family and warn everyone what happened. Just because we're all...new here doesn't mean we're the only possible targets."

[drack]

"Well, I cannot force you to stay, you are free to come or go as you please." The Earl sounds somewhat dismayed at the thought, but spreads his hands helplessly in a gesture suggesting you're free to do as you wish.

Indeed, the guards seem to understand why you're asking with four of their fellow guard dead upon the floor, but none steps forward. The accusation clearly frightens them to some extent though whether it's the fear of being wrongly or rightly suspected is hard to say. (biting their lip, looking from one of you to the next, and similar such signs)

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley looked at the guards with a frown. She didn't think they were in on it, particularly. They didn't really seem to be doing much to try and cover their nervousness, which suggested innocence. What bothered her was how nervous they looked. The knowledge that they could seem guilty. That suggested they didn't think much of their own loyalty. The way they glanced at each other suggested they didn't think much of one another's loyalty. Which probably meant that the guards being subject to bribes was a general fact, not an individual matter for those four.

When Ashley spoke again, a change seemed to come over her. The sadness and worry and concern were gone from her face and voice. Her words came out strong, commanding, with a hint of the resonance that filled her voice when she worked her magic. She no longer seemed like a scared young woman, but rather a confident, powerful veteran of hundreds of battles.

"You got here pretty soon after the fighting ended. So you saw things. The aftermath. The giant animals we had called to our bidding. The body of the man torn apart by a whirlwind of ice shards. The arcane fire that blazed around our blades. The physiological transformations. And let's not forget the simple fact that it took four traitors to fail to kill one of us while we slept. You saw all that, right?"

She'd wait a beat or two, just enough time for them to give some response, before continuing, "So you've seen what going against us means. With your own eyes. That's good. That's very good. Because see, those four," she gestured at the slain guards, "They made three crucial mistakes. First, they picked a fight with us in the first place, bad idea all around. Second, when the rest of us got here, they didn't surrender or flee immediately, gods only know why. And third, they couldn't seem to do the dead simple math that says no amount of gold is worth a job that will cost you your life."

"But you know, that's okay. With them, I can understand. They didn't know us. They didn't see what we were capable of with their own eyes. So, here's what I want you two to do. First, leave this wing of the manor. We have no present need for your services. Tonight, maybe tomorrow morning, you talk with the rest of the guards. You tell them what you saw here. You make sure they really get it. And you decide, and you tell them to decide, whose side you'd rather be on in a fight. Because the next bunch of guards that turns traitor and gets themselves killed trying to kill members of this family for a bag full of gold? They aren't going to have any excuse! Understand? Good. Dismissed."

(Ashley was a storyteller, you see. Whatever else she might be thinking or feeling, she always knew how to get into character.)

[drack]

OOC

Er, they didn't look at each other, their glance passes across the siblings (players) :smallwink:

One of the guards, rather offended and completely missing your point shakes his head, a cocky smile growing on his face. "Don't you worry one bit. These four may have been unable to kill you, but there were only four of them. Don't worry, we will not fail in protecting you, you have my word on that. You needn't worry about out safety either, protecting you is our job, and we're not about to run from a few traitorous dirt bags."

[Qwertystop]

A mix of confusion and amusement:
Someone's//missing something//me again//or him?

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley looked slightly deflated, but was at least reasonably convinced that these two guards were both innocent and ignorant of wrongdoing. She had also determined that they would not be the ones she trusted to verify the trustworthiness of the rest of the warriors on duty. Still...not entirely sure how Art did that thing with his voice (Or anything he did, really. Where had the tentacle come from?) she just answered him with a bemused shake of her head.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien shook his head with a sigh. He was oh so tired. 'Let us save the paranoia for the morrow, there will be plenty to spare. I find myself tired and cold. Let us consolidate ourselves to a single room, preferably one that does not reek of iron and blood, and keep watch, and hope none use that as an excuse to burn us all in our sleep,' he said softly, wrapping his raven wings about himself with a shiver.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Sounds good to me," Ashley agreed.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle nods.
"Getting upset at each others is not what I would call progress, so I am also good to finish our night... And waking up normally, this time."
She gets up, dusting herself a bit and gathering her belongings in her arms.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley goes about collecting her gear, although she didn't put her armor on immediately (she'd do it when she got back up to take her watch), and helped move blankets, mattresses, and pillows into whichever room they decided to use.

Unless there was anything else to do or discuss before they turned in, once everyone was settled she'd say, "Good night guys," and force herself to fall back asleep for a couple hours, after which, refreshed through the magic of her ring, she'd get up and take over watch for the rest of the night.

[Oneris]

"There's not by any chance a method to deliver me back within the secure walls of the Polymagica posthaste? Very well, I suppose I'll join you. "

On her way out the door to gather the rest of her lugguage, she remarks to the aged earl. "You'll not object to my use of the library tomorrow morning, correct? I'm finding my personal spell list quite unsuited to these new circumstances. "

[DoctorGlock]

If we have a massive magical library open to us at the manor, then hell yes we are going scribing in the morning...

When they all piled into the overcrowded room, Lucien paused to examine the heavy door, which swung inward. He pursed his lips, thought for a moment, then proceeded to wedge a slim book between the door and the frame, ensuring that key or no, opening it would be far more difficult. 'Don't mess with it, it's an effective alarm but i'll have to disarm it on the morrow,' he tells his siblings before collapsing onto one of the mattresses in a disorganized pile of limbs and feathers.

It's one of the fake spellbooks I have listed under spellbook protections. It looks for all the world like the real deal and hell, due to how secret page works it can be used like a real spellbook by anyone failing their save, but more importantly right now it is a door-jam that will scream bloody murder (magic mouth spell) if anyone other than Lucien screws with it... such as by breaking the door down when it's wedged in. No one is going to fail their listen check here. As an aside, should anyone other than Lucien try to read the book, they are going to explode and go to sleep for a few days, not sure in which order.

[Qwertystop]

"And I'll be watching, in case they get around your... alarm." Oh, good, he's worked out sarcasm.

Shifting again, Art moves to stand in the middle of the room, and does his best to look every way at once (just in case). He cracks the knuckles of one hand, and holds a long, white needle at the ready in the other.

Current setup is:
Lookout:
[Large] [Throwing] Spike: 3 FP, 1d6+2 60' thrown Sting.
[Darkvision] [Perceptive x3] [Insightful] Eye: 6 FP, Darkvision 60', Spot +12, see invisible within 10', all-around vision.

If precise timing matters, this would take three move actions, plus a swift action to manifest - so a round and a half.

[drack]

"There's not by any chance a method to deliver me back within the secure walls of the Polymagica posthaste? Very well, I suppose I'll join you. "

On her way out the door to gather the rest of her lugguage, she remarks to the aged earl. "You'll not object to my use of the library tomorrow morning, correct? I'm finding my personal spell list quite unsuited to these new circumstances. "

"Why certainly, though I'm not sure how much use my library would be. It's filled with many an ancient document, though they tend to pertain more to the kings of yore and many other fascinating historical facts. You'd be better off with your uncle Zipedon's. His estate is just up the hill over there, should I provide you with an escort come morning?"

[drack]

The remainder of the night passes with frightful slowness, whenever a guard passed the door, a bird flew by the window, or even as the wind caused the deathly canopies beyond the estate line to sway like a hundred thousand grasping claws reaching out through the sky, someone jumped. Not every time, but more then enough. There was something about this place, or maybe it was just a chill in the air, but it ran shivers down more then one spine.

Then, slowly, ever so slowly, the sun broke free over the horizon like a child with a good dream unwilling to roll free from bed, but come it did casting its brilliant radiance once more upon the castle. Somehow everything felt better with that daylight, safer. Not that it made any sense, but that's just how it felt.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley awoke for her watch after just a couple hours, refreshed by the magic of her ring. It was a stressful duty, but she made do. She didn't hide a breath of relief as the sun began to rise with no further danger coming upon them.

She had considered going to prepare breakfast so it would be ready and waiting when her siblings awakened, but that would require either leaving them unguarded or waking one of them early, neither option palatable. She'd just wait until they were all up and ready.

[DoctorGlock]

In his dreams, the haunting melody of the Faen melodies was silent... the constant pull of his inhuman blood at rest...

But on which side did he linger? Dreams of ice under alien stars and an endless aurora, of inhuman dancers and chants in ancient tongues bubbled to the surface all to often now, fitful and restless. But calmed by the soft and soothing crooning lullaby of a woman's voice, unknown but somehow familiar. But dissonant, and with with all the warmth of the void between stars, disquieting even as it comforted.

It seemed so much... closer, somehow, though it made no sense.

Lucien tossed restlessly on his mattress, possibly muttering alien melodies in an alien tongue. But ever more her lullaby surfaced, luring him into sleep...

____

Morning came as the rays of dawn lance through the window across Lucien's face. The tangled ball of limbs and wings, fine-spun chin length black hair brushing towards and away from his mouth with each soft snore is a far sight from the figure of menace he seemed last night. Almost comical really.

With a soft sigh Lucien woke and stretched, bounding to his feet and rubbing the sleep from his wide amber eyes. He could barely hear the Song now-- it was always weaker by daylight and warmth.

'And we're still alive!' he bubbles, without a trace of sarcasm, radiating genuine innocence. He walked over to the door and jerked the book out, eyes flickering over its shifting patterns. 'And I think I have a better solution for coming nights than constant watch shifts,' he beams.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Yay still alive!" Ashley responded in quiet cheer, keeping her voice down for the benefit of those still sleeping, but wearing a bright grin on her face. "Merry morn, brother. Sleep well?" she added.

[DoctorGlock]

Not at all

'Just fine,' Lucien lies, 'Better than on the road, at any rate,' which was marginally true. 'And yourself, sister?'

He begins to hum faintly in the alien tune again as he sits cross-legged on his bed, drawing a long, thin silvery rope from his bag. Pursing his lips in thought for a moment, his left arms snaps out and grabs a sunbeam, and he proceeds to weave it into the rope, aliens words in a crooning whisper breaking from his mouth as he goes.

Yeah, I'm preparing spells for the morning, this specifically is adding rope trick to today's list. I wanted to go with a more faerie tale magic theme (and yoinking a sunbeam seems about right)than arcane book learning, though wizards mechanics and flavor are unpleasantly connected. So long as you aren't too much of a default fluff stickler Drack can we fly with just assuming he takes an hour to prep somewhere and gloss over the details?

[Qwertystop]

A short watch, followed by what was left of the night to sleep; so, Art put away the extra eyes - Unpleasant on the pillow - and slept. Dawn comes: dawn -> day, and so Art is no longer asleep. Everything is garbled in the small scale, it may take a while to find a place - but in the meantime, adherence to broad convention is of even greater importance. Wait, where did that come from?


"Morning," he says, pretending to cover a yawn without actually yawning because That Is How Mornings Work. "Yes, still alive as far as I can tell... the alternative tends to be noticeable."

Small talk is tricky.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle slowly wakes up, grunting all the while. That was a pretty horrible night, and now it was time to wake up.

She yawned, then rubbed her eyes, and stretched her arms.
"Hmnn... Mornin'."
She looks at her siblings, seeing Ashley and Lucien awake, and Art too.
"Cool, we're alright. I like waking up without people tryin' t'kill me... How'as the night?"

After this, she moves out of the bed, making sure to not wake whoever was left still sleeping, and starts to put on her clothes.
Then she puts herself into a corner and does some breathing exercises.

Like Lucien, Mir does her thing, here, switching to the Hunter's Sense stance, which will give her the handy ability of scent. I figure breathing exercise probably help honing your senses.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I slept fine. And good morning, guys," Ashley said. She watched Lucien at work for several minutes, a curious expression on her face. At least thrice, she looked like she was about to ask him something, but she evidently either decided she wasn't sure what she wanted to ask, or that she didn't want to disrupt his concentration, as she didn't actually say anything.

Although after a bit to pick it up, she did start humming the tune along with him, just because. Well, okay, maybe a little bit in hopes that it would let her grab the sunlight. But mostly just because.

[Oneris]

Nestled in the corner amidst a small heap of velvet cushions lay Corina peacefully, appearing the most innocent she'd ever been since approximately age 2.

There weren't many lessons taught at the Polymagica that she took to heart, but if there was ever one she did, it was The Importance of a Good Night's Sleep. Indeed, her current demonstration of it's universality regardless of circumstance or comfort would have earned her an Outstanding had the school ever stooped to supplementing its grading scheme with evaluations of its students' daily life.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I think I'm going to see about getting some breakfast put together," Ashley said after a few minutes. "How do pancakes sound? You guys like pancakes?"

[Qwertystop]

"Pancakes sound good," Art replies absentmindedly, peering at the piled softness.

"Stand back - I'm going to try waking our hair-trigger sister."

As he steps away from Corina, he also does not, leaving behind a hollow shell that greatly resembles his front half. It bends down, taps her on the shoulder, and speaks in a rasp: "Sweet dreams are all well and good, but their time has rather passed, don't you think?"

After a moment standing still, it then vanishes.

Changing True Form:
Drop all the Eyes and augments
Get a Puppet with:

Limb
Eye
[Small] Mouth

Manifest
Do the wake-up routine
De-manifest
Drop the Puppet and attached features

(manifesting and de-manifesting would take two swift actions, so there's definitely time for Corina to react before it can vanish)

So now all I've got ready if I manifest is the single [Large] [Throwing] Spike.

[DoctorGlock]

What is he? Lucien wonders, not for the first time. An image of icy knives, surgically sharp, poking and prodding fills his mind.

About as monstrous as the rest of us I suppose, he thought ruefully. He could always prod dissect painfully and find out later...

Pancakes sound nice, Lucien says

[Dycize]

Mirandelle stayed in her corner calmly concentrating, eyes closed, coincidentally not seeing Arthur being his usual self.
"I can't remember the last time I ate pancakes, I'd gladly eat some."

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gave a bemused shake of her head as she watched Art. "Don't torment her," she said, but there was amusement in her voice more than admonishment, as if he had been holding a finger an inch from her skin while insisting he wasn't touching her.

Nodding at the general agreement, she said "I'll let you guys know when they're ready," and headed out for the kitchen.

[drack]

The halls seemed, if anything, twice as full of guards, and when you arrive at the kitchens you see a strange new face. A young girl in a smooth purple velvet dress with small golden ropes threaded about it, though you haven't a clue whether they hold it together or serve only as decoration. Standing near the stove you see her shuffle some seasoned potatoes onto the plate of the naive guard from last night. "Eat up cousin." She tells the boy merrily as she moves to continue cooking. Just before she can crack the goose egg in her hand however she stops staring at you. "...and who might you be? No, never mind, you're probably just some lost servant. Go away, I haven't time for you." Swiftly she cracks the egg tossing aside the shell and cracks another watching them sizzle in the pan.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gave the guards nods and smiles as she passed them...but they were forced. She wanted to feel comforted by their additional numbers, but after last night, she simply couldn't. Not when any of them could be a potential threat.

A slender, amused smile crossed her face when the chef dismissed her, thinking she was either used to a higher class of servant than she was, or was intent enough on her cooking that she hadn't noticed the gear she was wearing. "I'm Ashley, actually. One of the, um, Roderick kids?" she said, not really completely sure how well informed the house staff was about the situation. "I was going to just make some breakfast for my siblings and I. Would I be in your way? I can wait until you're finished up."

[drack]

Spinning on her heel to face you the girl exclaims "Another one!? How many blasted half brothers and sisters do I have!?" Sighing the girl takes a few steps away from the stove. "So you wanted to make me breakfast then? Oh very well, go right on ahead." Somewhat perturbed the girl finds a seat from which to watch you. Dismissively she remarks "Peter, can you go fetch the others? I think they said they wanted to look at the grave."

Nodding the young guard leaves with his spiced potatoes in hand, giving a friendly wave to you as he leaves.

"Oh well, what's one more." The girl adds, sizing you up. "It's not like this can get much more complicated then it already is right?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

Despite the other young woman's obvious exasperation, Ashley's face lit up at her words. She returned the guard's wave with one of her own as she spoke, not going without noticing she had called him cousin. "Oh! You're one of us!" she said with a bright smile. "Yeah, we're a regular crew right? Isn't it awesome? Wait, the others? Looking at the grave, you said? Are they...more of us, you mean? Oh! So, I'm Ashley. I mean, I said that. Um. What's your name?" She rambled excitedly, apparently at least temporarily distracted from any thoughts of breakfast.

[drack]

"Yes, one big happy family." She intones ironically. "I'm Veronica, just Veronica. My mother was the local mayor's third attendant before he saw her belly swelling and thought me his own. Naturally he gave her some funds to start a new life far away. What's your story?" As she speaks her eyes pass back and forth between the unattended sizzling pan and her new-found half-sister.

[Quellian-dyrae]

If Ashley noticed her tone, she didn't show it. Certainly, it didn't dampen her own enthusiasm in the slightest.

"My mom's a knight. I grew up around the Court, basically. I cook and entertain there now. Tell stories and stuff. It's fun," she said with a nod, going about gathering ingredients for the pancakes, apparently remembering why she was here when she mentioned what she did for a living. Though if there was still food cooking, she'd tend to it as well as she added the ingredients to a big bowl, multitasking with practiced efficiency.

"So, were you guys at the funeral yesterday, or did you just get here? Have you spoken to Grandfather? I mean...you know what's going on, and all?" Her voice hit on a grimmer note as she asked the last question.

[drack]

"Yeah, I know. Raag killed some off nine guards who stormed into his room last night, and I'd be ..." She pauses, stumbling over her words. "... if Old Gal Jane hadn't..." Veronica trails off.

"Yeah, I've spoken with him. I swear that man's hiding a hundred more things then he's telling us. People like him they..." Letting out her breath she finishes dully. "...they just get on my nerves." Shrugging she adds "Missed the funeral though, hear it was all for nothing anyways. Damn layabout dad's probably off somewhere cozy right about now..."

[Quellian-dyrae]

More treachery, more attacks on her kin. Ashley started stirring the batter harder in her anger...although after a few moments, she collected herself and started adding more to it, after the mention of at least two others. "How many others are there? There were five of us at the funeral. We got attacked last night too. Well, Mirandelle did, really."

She gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure he'll tell us anything he thinks we need to know, or that we ask him. I mean...mostly. Some stuff, it's better the fewer who know it, I guess. Especially with fey around. They can be tricksy, I hear."

[drack]

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, five? I thought it was just you and us? What's he got, a hundred more of us hidden around here somewhere? Good gods!"

As Veronica continues to babble in crisis mode, what looks to be a whole circus walks in. An old man and woman, a bear in the most noble of robes bearing two babies who gaped wide eyed at everything around them. A young boy in green carrying a third baby, what looked to be a full grown troll, a woman who tossed multicolored balls through the air without ever taking note of them. A young girl in a stunning dress with vines growing down along her face from a little tiara of greenery. A knight in full gear walked in behind them with a half giant who was wearing a white wedding dress covered in the mud of the road. A bald man murdering incoherent madness enters with a baby dragon in his arms and what looks like a giant demonic spider at his heels with a dog trailing a fair ways behind that.

At the front of the whole mob is Peter who's grin says that he's having the best day of his whole life. "Everyone, meet Ashley, Ashley, meet everyone. Ashley said she wanted to make you all breakfast." The bear growls swinging it's head from looking down to it's left to looking up to it's right with a low growl that sounds much more like a moan.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley's jaw...dropped. Growing up, it had always been just her and her mom. And that had been...fine. It really had. She loved her mother. But the occasional visits from her father, what knowledge she had of the Roderick family, the tantalizing proximity to them at Court...it had planted the seed of a deep desire for more family in the young bard.

She had spent hours, days, thinking, daydreaming, fantasizing about it. She had even imagined situations not dissimilar to this, the idea that she might in fact have brothers and sisters out there (the way her mother talked about her father had suggested it was plausible). But never, in even her wildest fantasies, had she considered this.

Ashley looked down at the bowl of batter she was stirring. She looked up at the group.

"So...um...who likes pancakes?" she managed to squeak out past the shock and near delirium of excited joy, her body going on autopilot to find a bigger bowl.

Um...guys? Team? Fellow PCs? A little help? I don't think I can solo this encounter... :smallbiggrin: :smalleek:

[drack]

All at once they begin talking, the deep rumble of the troll's voice blending with the knight's gravely voice and the little girl's high pitched melodic words, and all at once the babies began screaming to the high heavens and everyone, with he exceptions of the madmen, the spider, the dog, the dragon, and babies themselves move to comfort them. With the explosion of noise some odd twenty guards flood into the kitchen, and large as it is there's hardly room to even elbow in anymore as the guards all search at once for possible threats. Worse, as they begin to dismiss the possibility of a threat, the guards still in the hall try to press in to assess the situation for themselves. Veronica tries to say something to you over all the noise, but even watching her mouth move you can't hear anything over the instant ruckus.

[Quellian-dyrae]

This is going to be awesome.

"Alright everyone!" Ashley called out, making her voice heard over the din. It wasn't a matter of magic, or even raw volume, it was a matter of crystal-clear clarity of speech and a voice of sheer command that demanded attention - partially something she had learned from her mother, accustomed to giving orders in a crowded battlefield, partially just the sheer no-nonsense, will-not-put-up-with-distractions authority of a master chef who was regularly responsible for preparing royal banquets and whose will would not be challenged in her kitchen. "Guards, please return to your posts! We're all good in here! Brothers and sisters, it is so great to meet all of you and I absolutely cannot wait to talk, but I have a big meal to prepare and there are way too many people in here to do it! Breakfast will be served in about forty minutes! I'm accepting up to two volunteers if anyone wants to help! Otherwise, everybody out!" The words were cheery, friendly, full of affection and laughter - and despite all that, absolutely uncompromising.

Perform (Oratory): [roll0]

[drack]

Clear and stern as your voice was it too is lost in all the noise, and unable to hear it in the first place, the crowd doesn't even make an attempt to follow your directions.


Probably a good place to let the others try entering. Ruckus and all means they'll have a reason, plus around the peripheral where it's just guards bustling and not all the talking, screaming, and crying, it'll probably be a fair bit easier to be heard.

Of course, that's not to say it's particularly easy to make your way through a mob of armed guards... :smalltongue: Oh so many approaches to take...

[Oneris]

"Pancakes sound good," Art replies absentmindedly, peering at the piled softness.

"Stand back - I'm going to try waking our hair-trigger sister."

As he steps away from Corina, he also does not, leaving behind a hollow shell that greatly resembles his front half. It bends down, taps her on the shoulder, and speaks in a rasp: "Sweet dreams are all well and good, but their time has rather passed, don't you think?"

After a moment standing still, it then vanishes.


As the shell's fingers posed to just barely brush against her shoulder, Corina's eyes snap open and her hand grabs his–its in a deathgrip. In a voice filled with as much venom as she could muster in the first 3 second of wakefulness,
"Are you aware that I can have you hanged for touching a daughter of nobilit-Eeek!!"

The shell crumpled beneath her hand like a crepe-paper construct, sending her into the second ear-piercing screech in 24 hours. She leaped up and half stumbled, half crawled to the wall where she stood hyperventilating with her back firmly pressed against the most-definitely-impenetrable-by-anything-other-than-ghosts-there-weren't-any-ghosts-here-were-there surface until she was certain the smoke monster was not about to appear out of thin air and shank her.

Then she noticed the bemused look of the faces of the room's remaining inhabitants.
"Oh."

"How dare you? How bloody dare you?! Is this your idea of a joke, treating me like some sort of dangerous aberration or-or experimental golem...or animal? I must have been mad to remain here and think things could go well being under the same roof as you. Indeed, my wits must have been addled just from being in your presence. How could you be amused by scaring the wits out of a girl already terrified for her life?
I will not be your entertainment!"

If looks could kill, the Fey surely would thank Corina for helping them eliminate three more half-siblings as well as every other unfortunate being the girl laid eyes on as she stomped out into the hall and away from the accursed room.

[drack]

Out in the hallway she spots a crowd of bustling guards all with their backs to her crowded about the kitchens area, or at least the stairway to it.

[Oneris]

Under normal circumstances, Corina would be squeezing to the front of the crowd any way she could, causing several bruised ribs and forgotten spells in the process. But this was not normal circumstances, and she wanted as little to do with this house and its insanities as possible. Sh huffs off in the opposite direction, trying not to be seen by any in the crowd.

[drack]

The corridor bends right, right, left, and then there is a stair. A wide staircase with outwardly bowed railings leading up, and a thin pathway down into the shadows below.

[Oneris]

At this point Corina is keenly aware that she was lost. Completely lost, in a foreign house, still in her dressing gown and nightie and with unkept hair. This simply would not do.

She looked around to see that none would notice, then quickly ducked into the alcove beneath the stairs and emerged three minutes later, thoroughly clean and refreshed, wearing a sky-blue satin gown embroidered with pink roses and green vines and her nightie bundled under her arm. Satisfied with her appearance, she skipped lightly up the stairs, and tried to look as if she belonged there.


Prestidigitation prepared from yesterday to clean herself up,
Transform vestment of many styles from dressing gown to satin gown
Nightie was real.
Assuming she has her spellbook and magic jewelry with her but not much else.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle winces at Corina's shriek. What was she, half-banshee?
She then notices that she was now absent once the ranting ended, and that there seemed to be quite some noise outside.

She sighs.
"Lucien, Arthur, I'm gonna check on our sisters, somethings tells me today will be busy too."
I'm not going to be able to relax, am I?
She goes out of her room and follows the trail of guards towards the kitchen.

She nudges some guards along the way trying to get some info.
"What's happening? What's with all the ruckus at the kitchen? Something happened?... Oh, and did you see a girl with curled hair in a night gown?"

[drack]

Up the Stairs


At this point Corina is keenly aware that she was lost. Completely lost, in a foreign house, still in her dressing gown and nightie and with unkept hair. This simply would not do.

She looked around to see that none would notice, then quickly ducked into the alcove beneath the stairs and emerged three minutes later, thoroughly clean and refreshed, wearing a sky-blue satin gown embroidered with pink roses and green vines and her nightie bundled under her arm. Satisfied with her appearance, she skipped lightly up the stairs, and tried to look as if she belonged there.


Prestidigitation prepared from yesterday to clean herself up,
Transform vestment of many styles from dressing gown to satin gown
Nightie was real.
Assuming she has her spellbook and magic jewelry with her but not much else.

Up the long long stair, up the long long stair, through the wide corridor, left, right, left. Slowly but surely the quality improves. Doors gain intricate carving, tapestries begin to cover the walls, and soon a silver trim begins to make its way everywhere. The Countess emerges from one of the rooms with her beautiful smiling face which quickly turns to annoyance as she catches sight of you. "Who said you could be here, go away servant." she snaps angrily.

On the way to the kitchens

The guard turns calmly. "I haven't seen anyone like that, but there's some sort of commotion up ahead. I don't think it's anything too big, but after last night its probably better to check. Thing is it's impossible to say from here if there's some force or another holding us back or what's happening up in front. Here, um, lets try this... MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY, MAKE WAY FOR THE HONORABLE... What was your name again?"

[Dycize]

"Mirandelle. I nearly died last night. And I'm not that honorable..."
She didn't have much else to say. Still, that meant Corina went another way. Great, now she's certain that girl doesn't have common sense. Going out like that in such circumstances...

[drack]

"MAKE WAY FOR LADY MIRANDELLE!" The guard announces. Slowly a narrow path is made, never extending any more then a stride or two ahead of her. As she approaches the kitchen the volume slowly rises until even the guard's voice is drowned out. Up ahead guards can be seen arguing, though it's impossible to tell what they're saying. Taking note of you, or rather the cleared path around you, one of the guards trying to leave the kitchen starts pointing as he shouts and soon the others take note as well. Slowly the path begins to clear again and slowly the shouting begins to fade. The guards who were facing off by the door seem to have come to some sort of confusion as they begin signaling down the line that there was no disturbance and for space to be cleared. Like the tide of the sea the guards file out along the sides of the corridor past you, certainly more of them then had been in the hallway before. Must be that those guarding other nearby hallways had not come to such a resolution and were forced to come out this way to give space for the others to check for threats themselves.

At the center of it all a veritable circus stands anxiously around Ashley trying to comfort three wailing infants.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley blinked as the guards' apparent insistence on shouting at the tops of their lungs drowned out even her well-trained voice. She was growing ever less enthused about the quality of her family's protectors. Nonetheless, as the press (and hopefully the volume?) began to clear out some, she made her way over to help calm the infants with soothing touches and gently spoken nursery rhymes.

Taking 10 on Perform (Oratory) for 27. Hopefully that represents sufficiently "mad" nursery rhyme "skillz" to calm crying children, but if I have to burn a use of Bardic Music to Fascinate them do not think I won't! :smalltongue:

Babies, after all, have notoriously low Will saves.

[DoctorGlock]

well, that left just the monsters then...

Lucien sighed and stopped humming. Raising an eyebrow he glanced at Art. 'Really now, I'm not sure what you expected. Well, I mean, I expected flaming badger, but...'

The sounds of commotion and wailing began to filter up the stairs. Lucien carefully coiled the rope up, now shimmering faintly with captured sunlight, and slipped it into a pocket of his robes.

'I shouldn't think anyone is dying this time, not over pancakes, even good ones. Shall we?' he asked, gesturing towards the door.

knowledge arcana: WTF is an ozodrin

[roll0]

[drack]

As you sing, the old woman joins her humming to your tune, embodying the wildly dancing tune of the fey, yet even so the notes take on a softer calmer tone as if the tune itself were carried by still waters silently resting in a crystal spring. The old man beside her doesn't seem to notice the wailing at all, though sharp piranha-like teeth can be seen as he opens his mouth to say something to the bustling guards before thinking better of it.Behind him a mane of wild grey hair dances in a breeze that is not there, looking eerily like wolves biting and tearing hungrily at something that is not there. While the child in the arms of the little boy slowly falls silent and giggles, the eyes flash in the two held by the bear. One a deep emerald green and the other a bright shade of amethyst. Queerly enough they slowly stop as well, staring queerly at the old woman.

Slowly Veronica takes a breath. "So, you said you already know Peter. He's the son of the Earl's great-aunt, she was a witch who was thrown down a well where she's trapped to this day, though we call him cousin to keep it simple." Pointing to the child in the little boy's arms she declares "This is his youngest, at least as far as I can figure, Hubert. Can't really ask him his story though can we? The Boy carrying him is Jim, or Young Jim as we've taken to calling him. That old man over there is Old Man Jim, he insists on the Old Man part as pert of his name. So far as I can figure he was born and raised on some sort of weird plane, if such things truly exist, where time flowed differently, that's why he's so much older then the rest of us. That over there is Old Gal Jane, same nonsense with the name for those two, and the bear is holding their two children. Now Old Man Jim has informed me that he's serving as a Vassle to the noble bear who's graced us with his company, though I'll tell you I honestly have no idea how that even begun to come about...
The big guy there is Raag, no idea what he's eaten to make him so big and strong, but apparently our father left him with some Orcs who were asking themselves the same question. Harla over there, juggling, is the daughter of a circus clown that apparently our father had her with to get free admission."

Visibly tiring as she goes through summarizing introductions for all her half brothers and sisters, Veronica is quickly beginning to look more and more tired. All the same she presses on. "That pretty little thing over there is Teretita, she claims that our father had her with his fairy godmother so I decided I just didn't want to know, I'm sure you'll agree. The man in armor claims to be a 'winter' night, says it's different from a normal knight, and that beside him is his newlywed wife Dainamay. The Little dragon there is the runt of a litter of five that apparently he had once, but her mother would only let the one go since she said it would have died there anyways, but she didn't trust the safety of her young with us. That man over there with the spider is Joseph Caiaphas, he's chosen to keep his adopted name, though that's about all we've gotten from him. Occasionally he spouts nonsense about his love and demons, something being his fault." Clearly exasperated and at her wits end she finishes with "...and that dog's also his, don't ask."


Er... some of them do... :smalltongue: The normal ones that is.


Glancing over at the now finished eggs she fetches a plate and holds it out, clearly drained.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gave Old Gal Jane a smile as her song managed to calm the two that Ashley's rhymes didn't. She was starting to wonder if maybe making that fire happen last night had damaged her voice or something. Projecting authority to guards, making herself heard over a crowd, and calming children was usually so easy for her. Well, whatever. At least she could cook!

Dang, Dad... Ashley thought as Veronica introduced everyone, plating the eggs without actually thinking about it. "Wow that's going to be a lot to remember!" she said out loud with a bright breath of laughter. "This is so cool. I'm so glad to meet you all!"

Catching sight of Mirandelle (and Lucien shortly thereafter?) past the crowd, she gave them both a beaming smile and a cheery wave. "I found more siblings!" she called to them excitedly.

[drack]

As she smiles at Old Gal Jane she notices the old lady seems to be... blind, Old gal Jane doesn't seem to notice the smile as her eyes unmoving glaze over Ashley as smoothly as they do through everything else.

As Veronica begins munching hungrily on her eggs Perter beams, chiming in "Hey, sis, The Earl says you and the others were going to head up to your uncle's place to check out the library. Don't worry about a thing, I've already prepared a guard which I'll personally head up to assure your safety. When were you guys thinking to leave?"

[Qwertystop]

"I didn't bother expecting anything specific, just decided I'd rather not have any important bits near whatever she did. Do you think reaching from across the room would have been better?"

After a pause, Art goes to follow, cautiously, and stops again on catching sight of the crowd.
Right. Hygiene.
All tidied up now, he goes to greet the others.
"Hello!"


relatives?
"New siblings?

family?"

"I'm Art."

"Rather a lot of us, aren't there. Did our short-fuse sister come through here? Do you want a hand//some help with those pancakes?

Don't worry//bringing caution//no mind-reading

As he walks over, he goes from addressing everyone generally to Ashley specifically, and ends up completely nonvocal.

So there's the Mask feat - I used it at the beginning of the original thread to look like a wall, and for the jump-scare. Here it's just a shower and toothbrush as a free action. Basically Disguise Self without the clothing (different feat) or the bonus to Disguise (except for a few specific conditions to get the bonus, specifically
If you have intimate knowledge of the creature you are disguising yourself as, have consumed it, currently have a piece of it or a belonging of sentimental value, or have previously dealt ability damage equal to 1/2 the creature's total score to the creature, then this effect imparts a +10 bonus to disguise checks, checks to act in character, to disguise your voice and grants you the ability to fluently speak any language the creature knows.).

[Dycize]

Catching sight of the situation, and being called out by Ashley, Mirandelle stares, watching around at the... Diverse family.
She then puts her head down, face in hand, and siiiiiiiighs.

"Ah... Good news I guess... Well, looks like you have the situation under control. I'm gonna go back to looking for Lady D'Mentha who left the room in a huff after someone woke her up a tad unusually. I didn't see but I have my guess."
Her eyes darted to Arthur as she said this.
She then turned back and backtracked, since no one had seen her this way... She must have gone the other.
She keeps questioning guards along the way just in case.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Yeah, help would be good, and no, haven't seen her," Ashley said with a smile. "First, though, does, um, anyone know the spell to detect poison? We're being paranoid today and there were just a lot of guards in here around my poor, defenseless batter-bowl. Spells of food purification would work just as well. Both would be ideal, actually," she said a bit more loudly, addressing the entire lot.

[drack]

Choking on her eggs Veronica darts a glance about the room. "-oison?" She manages to ask, her mouth still full.

She then turned back and backtracked, since no one had seen her this way... She must have gone the other.
She keeps questioning guards along the way just in case.

The guards manage to direct you to a place where a wide staircase goes up and a narrow unlit one stretches down. By that point however the presence of the guards has thinned enough that nobody seems to have seen her.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Oh. Um. Uh. You-you should be fine! It...it would be stupid to poison one person's eggs that are almost done and reveal it when they have a big bowl of pancake batter that a lot of people will be eating. And, you know, probably all the guards still here can be trusted. We're just being paranoid until we've interviewed everyone," Ashley said with a smile that was...certainly intended to be reassuring.

She wasn't all that...good at paranoia, yet.

[DoctorGlock]

"Oh. Um. Uh. You-you should be fine! It...it would be stupid to poison one person's eggs that are almost done and reveal it when they have a big bowl of pancake batter that a lot of people will be eating. And, you know, probably all the guards still here can be trusted. We're just being paranoid until we've interviewed everyone," Ashley said with a smile that was...certainly intended to be reassuring.

She wasn't all that...good at paranoia, yet.

'Unless they wanted to infect everyone with botulism in one fell swoop,' Lucien added, appearing behind the two and loading up a plate. 'But not what I'd expect from faen assassins, it doesn't send a message or inspire terror. It simply works. Of course, judging by the nocturnal assaults, we could also have mortal adversaries as well'

[drack]

Slowly Victoria finishes chewing, swallows, and sets down her plate. This was getting to be too much for them. Poison in the eggs of all things!? Why how would they get it in? Still, it sounded like her new-found siblings had a better idea of how these things worked... A growl from the noble bear startles her from her thoughts as Old Man Jim remarks "Looks like it's time to get the little ones to sleep. Nice seeing you and all that." Following the noble bear with the children, Old Man Jim and Old Gale Jane head off through one of the other hallways connected to the kitchen.

[Qwertystop]

"I could taste-test it for poison with a fake, but I don't know if that would work."

I honestly have no idea if this would work - it's left completely open in the crunch in that the idea isn't even mentioned. Can puppets be poisoned? Is that separate from the Ozodrin being poisoned? Total DM call. Here's all the crunch that exists on generic (no-augment) Puppets, no augments relate to poison:


Puppet
Appearance
This feature creates what looks like a medium creature of your design, even though it's just a hollow shell and has no actual body parts.
Benefits


Puppets are created with their own pool of 5 Hit Points.
Puppets occupy squares, are detected, targeted and lose hitpoints as if they were a seperate creature, though they are features and use your actions normally.
Effects other than the damage they cause effect you normally.
You may add and remove features onto your puppet as you would onto your self.
Puppets may not attack if more than 100' away from you, and are removed beyond 1000'.
When a puppet reaches 0 Hit Points it is removed along with any feature placed on it.
You or any creature your puppet is carrying may not make a full attack if the puppet moves more than 5' in the same round.


Special


At any time you may sacrifice a number of hitpoints to prevent your puppet from losing an equal amount of hitpoints.
As a Free Action once per round your puppet may move up to your land, swim, burrow, climb or fly speed, otherwise it cannot move.
Effects targeting the puppet that physically force movement (such as Bull Rush) or that inhibit it (such as the grappled condition) only applies to the puppet, the rest of the ozodrin moves normally.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I mean...as long as it won't hurt you. I don't really expect there to be a problem but...I mean, better to know before serving the pancakes to, uh, everyone, you know?" Ashley said with a light, nervous laugh as she finished up the second bowl of batter, mixing some different fruits into each one.

[Qwertystop]

"I mean... I don't think it'd hurt me. But I don't know if the fakes can be poisoned... I mean, it might not actually help, and it might mislead, you know?" Art replies, unconsciously falling into Ashley's pattern and fidgeting nervously.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley considered for a moment (mostly holding back her amused grin at the similarity between Art's response and her question), and decided that even if the risk that he'd be poisoned was small, the chance he'd get a false negative was too great a risk to ignore, and before she could give herself time to consider the action she dipped a spoon in the batter and tasted it.

...

...

"I think we're good! Art, if you want to start on actually cooking the pancakes, I'll get the glazes going," she said, going to grab some fruit, butter, and sugar to make a couple different glazes for the pancakes.

[Qwertystop]

.......

... .___..... .
____...

Art stares for a moment, then mutters "Well, that works."

He gets a griddle and begins.

Profession: Chef [roll0], not sure whether it should be its own roll or an Aid on Ashley's, since she made the batter and is making glazes.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Once the glazes are going, Ashley gets out another skillet to cook up some pancakes as well (since, you know, lots of people), calling out to whoever's hungry as they come out. "So what's the plan today?" she asked, talking...mainly to Art and Lucien, but really to whoever was around and listening. "We're going to the library or something? Should we talk to the guards as well? I do kinda want to make sure the ones who are left aren't involved, and maybe some of them were approached but rejected the offer. Although...really, what we should do is identify who was involved in the attacks, and see who's still around, and if any of the others are missing. Man, that wouldn't be good at all."

[drack]

Grinning Peter chimes in with a reassuring smile. "Worry no more, I've got a contingent of guards ready and waiting by the door for once you've gotten ready... and eaten... and did I hear you right about someone being missing? Ah, right, after that too."

Meanwhile the troll, somewhat impatiently, reaches into the cupboards and begins munching on raw ingredients ignoring the egg shells and packaging involved.

The juggling girl exchanges smiles with a guard and slips out while the madmen sits down in the corner across the room, mumbling to the two walls as his spider begins climbing on one of them.

[Oneris]

Up the Stairs
Up the long long stair, up the long long stair, through the wide corridor, left, right, left. Slowly but surely the quality improves. Doors gain intricate carving, tapestries begin to cover the walls, and soon a silver trim begins to make its way everywhere. The Countess emerges from one of the rooms with her beautiful smiling face which quickly turns to annoyance as she catches sight of you. "Who said you could be here, go away servant." she snaps angrily.

"Excuse me?"
Corina's much-beleaguered inner self barely managed to slam the metaphorical lid down on the boiling pot of outrage in time and sat upon it until it reduced to a simmer.
"I apologize, milady, but you must be mistaken. As grand as this estate may be, I doubt their servants could be clothed comparable to my current manner of dress. I am merely a guest of Earl Roderick Senior's, hopelessly lost in these winding halls. Lady Corina Nialla d'Mentha, at your service. " She dipped a small curtsy.
"If I may be so bold, a name for a name?"
Edit: Will need to rewrite due to GM error.

[DoctorGlock]

'The library would be a good choice... I desire to know more about our would be assassins,' Lucien mused, snagging a pancake from a plate as it went by. 'Galling though I find it I am ill versed in the denizens of winter. I would know why a long dead court seeks now to eliminate a bloodline, and stories about their kind may give me some ideas. My gut says they intend to avenge themselves upon the entirety of the bloodline for a perceived insult of the father, such is their way, but the methodology raises questions.'

He chews thoughtfully for a moment. 'And I fully admit, having more resources to devote to our defenses strikes me as a good plan as well. And perhaps romping about a library will distract our hair-trigger sister from tossing burning badgers at us.'

Something cold and fell flashes through his eyes-- quite literally, as for a brief moment his siblings can see the fey aurora light from the previous night glimmer in his irises. 'The alternative is to wait for the next assault at which point I desire to take one alive this time,' he says, glaring at Art, his voice as warm as arctic waters. 'And ask them more directly.'

[Qwertystop]

"He was right there next to Mirandelle, and he still had an edge."
Pause. Acquire pancakes. Eat pancakes. Banter?
"Anyway, you try knocking someone out safely when your claws are on fire. Still not sure why that didn't hurt... it felt weird."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Oh I don't know if anyone's actually missing," Ashley answered Peter. "I was just thinking, the guards who attacked us were paid to do it, right? So if the fey approached other guards, who refused...they might have, I mean...they could be missing. Maybe. You work with the guards, have any of them been acting weird or mentioned anything about being approached or anything like that?"

She laughed at Art's comment. "I know, right? That was crazy. I'd never done anything like that before. Although um, honestly, it was only like the third craziest thing that happened in that fight. I was almost more scared of you guys than the guards! Also had a really strange urge to do some Dread Chanting. No idea where that came from..." (It was probably nothing.)

[Qwertystop]

"What were the other things? Trying to figure that sort of thing out, after last night's talk."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"It...like...Lucien was all, doom ice wizard of doom, and stuff. And you grew a tentacle. ...Possibly also of doom."

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien looked back and forth between his siblings. Everything seemed so soul crushingly mundane all of a sudden... especially after the paranoia and terror of the previous night. That wasn't a problem was it? That's exactly what I wanted, right? Then why do I feel like something is missing That I need... more? The rush of cold wind beneath my wings... the pallid witchfire flare of the northern lights... the pounding of blood and the hunt...

He sighed and shook those thoughts from his head. Focus. You have a family now, of sorts...

'Yes. I suppose there were some difficulties with the plan. Hopefully we will not need to test it again. Or add extra doom.' He paused a moment while he thought about their statements. 'So, are you saying you have never really exhibited your abilities before last night?'

[Qwertystop]

"I'll try to avoid growing tentacles in future. I'm better at distance-fighting anyway. Ranged things just take too long to make. We were in a rush." Art's speech is rather fragmented - it's clear he's speaking carefully, trying to stick to actual words.

"I don't think there was any doom. I didn't even end up using it."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I mean...not that ability. With the fire, and the screaming, and stuff. I've done other magic. Like, you know, the emotion stuff. And floating things. I'm good at floating things!"

"Oh I'm not saying you shouldn't do it. It was just...surprising, you know. Now that I know you can do it I don't think it would be scary. As scary. Maybe. You just...don't expect your brother to grow a tentacle, by default." She glances over at the madman in the corner with his spider. "Except I think maybe it's my expectations that might need to change." (Made sense, actually. All things considered.)

[Dycize]

And so Mirandelle was now confronted with a choice : going up the wide staircase, or down the narrow unlit one.
Obviously, no one could tip her off where Corina could have gone now.
Considering that her maybe-sister couldn't be THAT... Unwise. Yes, unwise, to go down the shady staircase, Mirandelle started making her way up in hopes of not finding a dead body.
Have to stay positive somehow.

[drack]

*not posting*
*not posting*
*not posting*
*not posting*

Atop the staircase you find a hallway, a rather short hallway by comparison with those you've already traversed. Doors of fine lavenders and pinks line the corridor, each decorated with zigzags, stripes, and three even have polka dots. Nine doors in all, five on the left and three on the right with a simple brown door across the hall from you. As the hallway reaches the brown door however it Ts off to the left and to the right. Somehow the hallway strikes you as rather decorative by comparison to the simple wooden doors below.

[Dycize]

I think I start to understand that she is probably as lost as me. ...Well I'm here so far, might as well continue... I don't think I'm gonna get assaulted here. I hope.
As she was musing while moving along the hallway, Mirandelle was noticing the rather goofily decorated doors. Lavender and pink polka dots?... Fancy place.
She kept moving until she reached the end of the hallway. Left or right.
Following her instinct, she turns right.

[Quellian-dyrae]

When Ashley plated the last pancakes, she looked around and said, "I'm going to go tell Corina and Mirandelle that breakfast's ready," heading off to go track her sisters down.

Let's see how many PCs we can manage to get lost in the giant manor house :smalltongue:.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien finished gobbling down a pancake before turning to Art. 'I'm out of other ideas, unless you have any we should make our way to the library to research until our eyes bleed. You in?'

[Qwertystop]

"Is that likely?"

__"I'd rather avoid losing an eye."
"Researching is probably important, but"

[DoctorGlock]

"Is that likely?"

__"I'd rather avoid losing an eye."
"Researching is probably important, but"

'A figure of speech,' Lucien assures him. 'No real danger of it... though couldn't you just grow them back? Or gain some extras?'

[Qwertystop]

"Yes, but it's one more thing to keep track of."
Art then continues silently, to not be overheard:

Must remove everything//to add anything//moment of weakness

[DoctorGlock]

"Yes, but it's one more thing to keep track of."
Art then continues silently, to not be overheard:

Must remove everything//to add anything//moment of weakness

Lucien successfully suppressed a shudder as his 'brother's' oily words slid down his spine without passing through his ears. That boy just isn't right...

'So you can rearrange your physiology at will though? That sounds incredibly useful... debilitating injuries are only a little time to just rearrange... you can recover entirely from amputations. That usually takes fairly powerful clerical magic. Offhand I can't think of too many things that can do that. Powerful immaterial beings like devils and angels can assume a form to blend in, but not quite the same thing. I know some keepers of the old ways and pagan rites can take the forms of beasts and roam wild. A few offshoots of old druidic cults can grow extra limbs through magic, as can various abomination-wizards. But I don't know anything else that can just will themselves new limbs, and none of what you did felt like magic. I can... feel? Hear? that. Do you know your mother?'

[Qwertystop]

Art pauses under the deluge of information, filters... two questions. Yesnos with third answers.

"Yes, but no. That will have to wait until I know we're unheard."

"Yes, but we've established last night that I'm entirely wrong about my history."

"And I certainly hope you heard that - I was talking to you."

Importance hangs on the last word of the otherwise-flippant reply as Art clears away his plate.

"So, let's get going, then."

[drack]

When Ashley plated the last pancakes, she looked around and said, "I'm going to go tell Corina and Mirandelle that breakfast's ready," heading off to go track her sisters down.

Let's see how many PCs we can manage to get lost in the giant manor house :smalltongue:.

The guards direct you to a wide staircase going up beside a narrow one leading down, unsure as to where your siblings might have gone. A stubby fat one demands they must have gone up, clearly nobody in their right minds would go down after all, a similar looking yet slightly taller guard with a beard however insists that clearly not everyone was in their right minds here, "I mean did you see the man with that demonic spider?" Stubbornly he insists that he did see someone pass down through the alcove, though he was standing at a distance so he couldn't make out who it was.

I think I start to understand that she is probably as lost as me. ...Well I'm here so far, might as well continue... I don't think I'm gonna get assaulted here. I hope.
As she was musing while moving along the hallway, Mirandelle was noticing the rather goofily decorated doors. Lavender and pink polka dots?... Fancy place.
She kept moving until she reached the end of the hallway. Left or right.
Following her instinct, she turns right.

To the right the hallway is aligned with brilliant tapestries, presumably of your ancestors, sewn in silver thread. Doors of solid colors line either wall, and the passageway turns off either way both in the middle and at the end of the hall. Intricately carved wooden archways frame the passageways in the middle of the hall, though the carving appears mostly decorative.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley thanked the guards, and working on the assumption that Corina and Mirandelle were in their right minds, went up the stairs, calling out periodically, "Corina! Mirandelle! Where you at!? Breakfast is ready and I think we're heading to the library soon!"

[drack]

Ashley thanked the guards, and working on the assumption that Corina and Mirandelle were in their right minds, went up the stairs, calling out periodically, "Corina! Mirandelle! Where you at!? Breakfast is ready and I think we're heading to the library soon!"

OOC

Mirandelle is within earshot

[Dycize]

Mirandelle was continuing her tour of the manor, unknowingly slowing down her pace while watching the tapestries.
Then she heard Ashley's voice.
She started to backtrack towards it, and once in range to answer her properly.
"What already? I'm still looking for Corina, do you have any clue where she could have run off to?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I...don't. This place is kinda huge! But I guess if we just keep going and check all the floors we'll have to run into her at some point, right?"

[Dycize]

"Yeah I guess... Wanna search upstairs in my stead? And I could go downstairs. Or I can just keep going upstairs, it's how you want. We can even search together."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"The um...guards said you'd have to be crazy to go downstairs. But if you want to go ahead, go all the way up real quick, maybe you'll just spot her. And if not, you work your way down, I'll work my way up, one of us should find her or we'll meet in the middle. And that way it won't be like...we both go searching in different directions and you find her and then you two split up to find me and I find her and then we have to find you and next thing we know it's dinner time and the library's closed." she gave a little laugh at the absurdity of the thought.

"How's that sound?"

[Dycize]

Mirandelle takes a second before answering.
"Well if you ask me I don't think Corina's specialty is rational thought more than rush-influenced decisions. I'll finish upstairs then... And see down there if I still can't find her."
With that said, she turned back and quickly got back to where she was, turning left at the end of the last turn she saw.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley nodded, and continued along at a slower pace, checking every hall on that floor and periodically calling out for Corina before moving on to the next.

[DoctorGlock]

'And I thought you were simply being evasive...' he murmurs. 'You honestly don't know-- not simply your parentage, but your very nature,' subtle differences fill Lucien's voice as he speaks, his but still different... somehow. More confident, yes. Devoid of that creeping uncertainty that so often tainted his speech. Melodious too, dips and peaks in the inflection seeming to resonate in the air. The voice doesn't sound very compassionate to Art's circumstances either. How do we use this to our advantage, the lost changeling child?

'Are you not in the least curious?'

[Qwertystop]

Words. So many words, flowing over and around each other... But coherent, and strictly auditory, and undeniably serious and earnest.

"Curious? Yes. But that's not how things are done, is it?"
Stability.
"Have somewhere to stand before I reach for the unending."
"Do you understand how much I don't know?"
"Two days ago, words were the polite way to talk, and walking was the polite way to move."
Heh... Rhyme.
"Last night, you-plural said it was magic, or impossible, to do otherwise."
"Today, it takes more focus not to step or speak."
"Do I want to know where I came from? Sure. But if the place I grew up isn't, and some of the list basic things of life are impossible... I want to have a stable footing in effect before I get to cause."

The rhyme is "Speaking was the polite way to talk, and stepping was the polite way to walk."

Yes, I know he didn't actually say that.

[DoctorGlock]

Rhetorical or an earnest question? No way to tell with this one... perhaps... yes, a little... trust, that was it...

Lucien's presence seemed to shift as they spoke. Taller? No, not possible. He didn't shift the way Art did. Could a simple change of stance make that much of a difference? Yet he somehow stood taller and the shadows in the flickering firelight of the torches seemed to line his face very differently. Aurora light flared in his irises, and his eyes were otherwise black all the way through, much as they were the night before. A trick of the light?

'All things seek their proper place, their firm setting. Is it not what the sages say makes the the forces of the multiverse move? Why should we be different? Perhaps you are seeking the wrong ground? We do stand apart from our other siblings who are more rooted to their father's legacy. For us cause and effect may be one and the same. Perchance I misjudged in my assumptions, my questions were founded in the belief that you were more like them than like I. But we are not, are we?

We follow in the footsteps of our other parent, whomever that may be, constantly fighting l'appeal du vide; the call of the void. We are alike as well as siblings. Do not take my questioning for malice, to sow the fell seeds of doubt or distrust. I have none of the answers to these questions. Perhaps even turning only more questions will reveal answers about both of us.'

Lucien extends a hand towards Art. His wings flare out slightly behind him, eclipsing the light lancing through stained glass of the windows. 'Walk with me and perchance we can find out?'

And just like that the moment passed. Yes, it must have been a trick of the light, the sunbeams lancing through the window showing nothing but earnest helpfulness on the young half-fae's face. He continues talking, youthful exuberance filling his voice with the more familiar broken uncertainty of inflection.

'What do you mean two days ago walking and talking were the polite forms of action?'


Yes, the sages comment was referencing Aristotle's theory of gravity

[Qwertystop]

Speech had become a torrent, the dam breaking as panic spilled out - and in response, Lucien loomed, he changed, and he continued to ask.

Reply. Analogy. Something certain, already seen to be.

"Eating is done with cutlery. Eating when hurried, or sufficiently distracted, or before being taught etiquette, is not. Is that enough answer?"

"By the way, you might want to check your mind - something seems to be leaking in, I think."

[drack]

Ashley
The expansive corridors twist and wind seemingly endlessly, rooms with walls of pearls, hallways within which the walls themselves appear to be alight with flame. remarkably enough however it was a rather plain looking hallway with simple wooden doors and plain white walls that caught her attention as a door made a wide swing towards her head, warping upon itself and twisting as no door should be able to in order to do so. Grimly the door swings open to face you, already recoiling for a second blow.

[roll0] for [roll1]


Mirandelle
as you wander you too find the corridors extensively winding, a hallway filled with eggs hanging by strings without a door in sight, an interior garden filled with flowers and bushes, and corridor within which spiraling withered branches, stuck to the wall with some sort of adhesive are used to hang framed pictures a good 1-3 feet from the wall. It was in this very corridor that you spy a creature that looks like a humanoid made of that slimy sort of lint that gets between your toes when you wear socks, either that or some manner of foot fungus. Either way the stubby little guy is far from pretty, looking weary from wondering the same endless corridors it visibly jumps upon spying you. Snarling it makes to charge you, revealing some rather disturbingly yellowed teeth in the process.

Corina
"Well? You def? I said go!" The countess adds angrily, steadily approaching. "Useless street trash!" She exclaims as she swings to slap Corina.

[roll2] for [roll3] damage
roll a spot check


Art&Lucien

Peering up from under the edge of the table a little glowing blue man speaks up, nervously at first, but somehow even that has a playful edge to it. "Um... Um... Excuse me but... um... the people who were with you look... um... unhappy?" Befuddled the little creature scratches a head which appears to have roots growing up from it as he searches for the word. "distressed? frightened? troubled? Ah, that's it, they look like they just hit their heads and got a big bad lumpy-bump! Ow-ow-ow-ow!" the creature exclaims with the last of this clutching it's head. Playfully the little critter laughs. "I saw which way they went though." walking out the creature's feet each bear a flower blooming downward which pad softly upon the air keeping the being airborne, and it's laugh sounds queerly like a voice whispering from far away, born across only by a breeze which wound on about many a tree.

[Qwertystop]

Confusion. Questions. Standard set, simple list, but one doesn't fit.

"Who are you? What happened to them? Why should we trust you? How do you know?"

Can't risk it being true, untrustworthy or not...

"Where?"


If we're in combat time, this probably overruns a round, depending on the time it takes to do a Sense Motive (can't remember).
Sense Motive [roll0]
Two Move actions: Add three [Throwing] Spikes, total of 6 FP, to True Form. Current True Form:
([Large] [Throwing] Spike): 3 FP, 1d6+2 60' thrown Sting.
([Throwing] Spike) x3: 6 FP (2 each), 3 1d6 60' thrown Stings.
Attacks/round now capped :smallbiggrin:.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley was just walking through the house, looking for her sister, when suddenly WHAM, door to the face. And not like, oops someone opened the door without realizing you were there and you blundered into it. That door upped and belted her in the face on purpose! Hard, too. It didn't feel like walking into a door. It felt like getting walloped with a mace.

Ashley didn't even have to think about it. Which was good, because she was kinda too busy panicking to think about much of anything. She chanted a couple words and split into several Ashleys, all of whom retreated back the way she had come at speed, calling "Help! Attack! Attack!" with every step. Just in case the door somehow managed to give chase. (I deem it entirely plausible.)

Right then. It was official. She was gathering up her family and getting them out of this house. It had clearly been completely infiltrated by the fey and was not even the slightest bit safe.

Fight or flight is an easy question when you're a dedicated party support character :smalltongue:.

Standard Action: Cast Mirror Image. Concentration check (actually a Perform check thanks to Melodic Casting) to cast on the defensive auto succeeds (+17 vs. DC 17). Creates [roll0] images.

Move Action: Retreat back the way she came, probably provoking an attack of opportunity, but that's what the images are for.

Free Action: Yell for help in case the door somehow manages to give chase.

Current Status:
HP: 28/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/2/1.
Mirror Images: 4 (70 rounds).

[Dycize]

The decoration in this manor sure could change. Now an inner garden, and picture frames and...
Short fungus men?
"Give me a break."
Mirandelle thought about running away for a moment, until she remembered that she was looking for an equally lost family member, and a new threat(?) is appearing.
She holds her ground, weapon on hand, ready to strike.
"Stop right there!"
She unoptimistically attempt to reach out to the creature. She can try at least?...

Not much to say here. Should I roll diplomacy for my attempt at communication? If such a thing is possible... Actually no, that would probably be a disaster, looking at the rules.

[drack]

Confusion. Questions. Standard set, simple list, but one doesn't fit.

"Who are you? What happened to them? Why should we trust you? How do you know?"

Can't risk it being true, untrustworthy or not...

"Where?"


If we're in combat time, this probably overruns a round, depending on the time it takes to do a Sense Motive (can't remember).
Sense Motive [roll0]
Two Move actions: Add three [Throwing] Spikes, total of 6 FP, to True Form. Current True Form:
([Large] [Throwing] Spike): 3 FP, 1d6+2 60' thrown Sting.
([Throwing] Spike) x3: 6 FP (2 each), 3 1d6 60' thrown Stings.
Attacks/round now capped :smallbiggrin:.

The little creature only ***** it's head slightly as you transform. Overall it seems innocent and playful, lacking the usual malevolence of an enemy. All the same from what you've read it certainly seems strange enough from a physiological standpoint to be fey, and oft as not playfulness with supernatural creatures can be as deadly as any blood lust, sort of like how if a dragon were to "playfully" bath you in molten rock. At least that's the standpoint of the last book you read on the topic, after all there hadn't been faeries in the known world for hundreds of years. Grinning the little critter begins clogging along, deliberately taking every step which made for particularly slow going when you take into account that the glowing blue person was only a good two or three inches tall. As he walks he puffs out his chest and declares I'm Punkey-Lit of the Thimblethatch Hinkypunks if you really must know... and if I heard you right you're Blob Man, and you're Evil Icicle right?


The decoration in this manor sure could change. Now an inner garden, and picture frames and...
Short fungus men?
"Give me a break."
Mirandelle thought about running away for a moment, until she remembered that she was looking for an equally lost family member, and a new threat(?) is appearing.
She holds her ground, weapon on hand, ready to strike.
"Stop right there!"
She unoptimistically attempt to reach out to the creature. She can try at least?...

Not much to say here. Should I roll diplomacy for my attempt at communication? If such a thing is possible... Actually no, that would probably be a disaster, looking at the rules.

Who are you, who are you with, why are you here? The fungal being asks defensively.

[drack]

Ashley was just walking through the house, looking for her sister, when suddenly WHAM, door to the face. And not like, oops someone opened the door without realizing you were there and you blundered into it. That door upped and belted her in the face on purpose! Hard, too. It didn't feel like walking into a door. It felt like getting walloped with a mace.

Ashley didn't even have to think about it. Which was good, because she was kinda too busy panicking to think about much of anything. She chanted a couple words and split into several Ashleys, all of whom retreated back the way she had come at speed, calling "Help! Attack! Attack!" with every step. Just in case the door somehow managed to give chase. (I deem it entirely plausible.)

Right then. It was official. She was gathering up her family and getting them out of this house. It had clearly been completely infiltrated by the fey and was not even the slightest bit safe.

Fight or flight is an easy question when you're a dedicated party support character :smalltongue:.

Standard Action: Cast Mirror Image. Concentration check (actually a Perform check thanks to Melodic Casting) to cast on the defensive auto succeeds (+17 vs. DC 17). Creates [roll0] images.

Move Action: Retreat back the way she came, probably provoking an attack of opportunity, but that's what the images are for.

Free Action: Yell for help in case the door somehow manages to give chase.

Current Status:
HP: 28/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/2/1.
Mirror Images: 4 (70 rounds).

An eye bulges to life on the door, twitching slightly. Eying your retreat it warps once more, twisting and bending to catch your leg with its outward corner.

Why did the party support character suggest splitting up to search again? :smalltongue:

lets see. AoO. I think it gets one for you casting the spell forcing a concentration check proportional to damage dealt (if any.)
If not it will get a AoO for leaving the threatened square in which case it hits you on a 1 [roll0]

attack [roll1] for [roll2]
if hits grapple as a free action.

Now, correct me (anybody) if I'm wrong, but grapple as a free action (essentially as part of an attack) without improved grapple feat or an equivalent sounds like it still provokes an AoO which if it hits still negates the grapple. :smallconfused:

grapple check [roll3]

Guess I'll see what happens with the AoO/if folks point out that I'm wrong somewhere before I have the door take actions. I should probably write up a map when I finish up its round too since it looks like movement will be relevant. :smalltongue:

[Qwertystop]

...
"Wouldn't get rid of my limbs if I could. Arms and legs are useful."

"And the other questions?"

[DoctorGlock]

Leaking...

Lucien went corpse pale with terror at that. Was it because it had been seen by the others or because he couldn't deny it anymore?

He opened his mouth to utter some sort of hollow rebuttal when he was interrupted. That was actually convenient... if unpleasantly surprising. None of which consciously went through his head as his heartbeat spiked and the discordant wintersong filled his mind, which was full of the surge of icy wind and a hair trigger response that had nothing to do with training. Ice rimed his flesh in the space of a heartbeat, coating his outstretched arms in a frigid gauntlet even as pallid silver flames filled his hand, shot through with the cold colors of the winter sky, throwing the wispling into sharp relief, casting a long knifelike shadow behind it.

Leaking...

'Trust it not brother... fickle and mischievous the lure bearers are and delight in leading the unwary to their doom, to lap up the spilled blood of conflict. Too treacherous even to serve the court of winter...'

Lucien's voice resonated oddly, merged with the eerie singsong crooning that had leaked through moments before. And his eyes narrowed as they focused on the wispling, pale aurorafire flickering on his receding irises as pupils dilated into shadowy blackness.

'Let me add my voice to his question, thrice asked and be done. Why should we trust you?'

[drack]

...
"Wouldn't get rid of my limbs if I could. Arms and legs are useful."

"And the other questions?"

"Other questions?" Punky-Lit asks curiously as he continues to jog away at what happens to be for larger folks a light walking pace. "OK, who are they? The people that were with you." Then as his integrate is questioned he snuffs the mage, upturning his nose and resolving to pretend that the frosty mage wasn't there at all.

[drack]

Ashley was just walking through the house, looking for her sister, when suddenly WHAM, door to the face. And not like, oops someone opened the door without realizing you were there and you blundered into it. That door upped and belted her in the face on purpose! Hard, too. It didn't feel like walking into a door. It felt like getting walloped with a mace.

Ashley didn't even have to think about it. Which was good, because she was kinda too busy panicking to think about much of anything. She chanted a couple words and split into several Ashleys, all of whom retreated back the way she had come at speed, calling "Help! Attack! Attack!" with every step. Just in case the door somehow managed to give chase. (I deem it entirely plausible.)

Right then. It was official. She was gathering up her family and getting them out of this house. It had clearly been completely infiltrated by the fey and was not even the slightest bit safe.

Fight or flight is an easy question when you're a dedicated party support character :smalltongue:.

Standard Action: Cast Mirror Image. Concentration check (actually a Perform check thanks to Melodic Casting) to cast on the defensive auto succeeds (+17 vs. DC 17). Creates [roll0] images.

Move Action: Retreat back the way she came, probably provoking an attack of opportunity, but that's what the images are for.

Free Action: Yell for help in case the door somehow manages to give chase.

Current Status:
HP: 28/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/2/1.
Mirror Images: 4 (70 rounds).

The door snaps cleanly through an illusory you, unhinging itself with ease it gives chase, swinging at another illusory you as it gasps "Why-why do they always-always run?"

1 is you [roll0]
[roll1] for [roll2] damage
grapple if hit [roll3]

This time it's door handle passes through an illusion dispelling it too.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"'Oh what are you complaining about? I'm the one being chased by a talking door,' Ashley grumbled sarcastically as she floated into the air, flying away from the door," Ashley grumbled sar- okay, guess she handled that bit of narration herself, then.

Storytellers.

Swift Action: Casting Swift Fly. Pretty sure swift action spells don't provoke AoOs in any event, but even if so she auto-passes the Concentration check to cast defensively.

Full Round Action: Taking the Withdraw action. First space I leave provokes no AoOs, then I get to double-move. With Swift Fly active, Ashley flies a total of 120'; she's making her way back the way she came, making her way downstairs as swiftly as possible (should be easy since she was following a methodical searching pattern and the different hallways were really weird). Hopefully this house is built logically with a stairway going all the way up and down rather than with each stairway to a different floor on a completely other part of the floor like a dungeon, but at this point who knows? She stops screaming and if possible ends her movement behind cover to Hide at [roll0].

HP: 28/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (69 rounds).

[Dycize]

Who are you, who are you with, why are you here? The fungal being asks defensively.

Good. It's not actually attacking her on sight. Maybe not an assassin.
Still a jumpy little mushroomish person.
She relaxes her posture a bit to look less threatening, but remains alert.

"I am Mirandelle, I am with no one in particular, I am simply looking for a fellow family member."
Short and concise, this should suffice.
Hopefully this wasn't the signal for hidden ennemies to ambush her, have to stay positive somehow...

[Qwertystop]

"That wasn't even one of the questions. I can't tell if you're avoiding the important ones or just thinking in knots. I'll even drop one from the list, if that makes it any easier. Where are they, and why should we trust you?"

Meanwhile, Art shifts his focus again - he will get answers, whether this fool gives them or not.
Switching out the [Large] [Throwing] Spike for a [Channeling (Spit)] [Rail] Organ (Read Thoughts). That takes 3 move actions, because Organs are slow - if something happens that throws us into combat time, never mind the [Rail] augment. Still not manifested, so it just looks like a bit of focusing. Not actually using the Read Thoughts yet - that would require being manifested.

Current True Form:
[Channeling (Spit)] [Rail] Organ (Read Thoughts): 3 FP, gives a 1d4 + Cha 30' (touch) Spit attack (so secondary, unfortunately), the ability to double the range of one feature once per round (bit of sniping), and the ability to manifest Read Thoughts at 10 HP (or Strange Movement) a pop.
([Throwing] Spike) x3: 6 FP (2 each), 3 1d6 60' thrown Stings.

[drack]

"'Oh what are you complaining about? I'm the one being chased by a talking door,' Ashley grumbled sarcastically as she floated into the air, flying away from the door," Ashley grumbled sar- okay, guess she handled that bit of narration herself, then.

Storytellers.

Swift Action: Casting Swift Fly. Pretty sure swift action spells don't provoke AoOs in any event, but even if so she auto-passes the Concentration check to cast defensively.

Full Round Action: Taking the Withdraw action. First space I leave provokes no AoOs, then I get to double-move. With Swift Fly active, Ashley flies a total of 120'; she's making her way back the way she came, making her way downstairs as swiftly as possible (should be easy since she was following a methodical searching pattern and the different hallways were really weird). Hopefully this house is built logically with a stairway going all the way up and down rather than with each stairway to a different floor on a completely other part of the floor like a dungeon, but at this point who knows? She stops screaming and if possible ends her movement behind cover to Hide at [roll0].

HP: 28/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (69 rounds).

Through quick wit and even quicker retreat Ashley manages to evade the door and make her escape back to the hallway lined with pearls.

Good. It's not actually attacking her on sight. Maybe not an assassin.
Still a jumpy little mushroomish person.
She relaxes her posture a bit to look less threatening, but remains alert.

"I am Mirandelle, I am with no one in particular, I am simply looking for a fellow family member."
Short and concise, this should suffice.
Hopefully this wasn't the signal for hidden ennemies to ambush her, have to stay positive somehow...

The little moss-man nods somewhat hesitantly before asking. "You're a member of the family that lives here?" Decidedly it resists the urge to point out that people who introduce themselves as nobody in particular somehow always end up being the most suspicious people around.

"That wasn't even one of the questions. I can't tell if you're avoiding the important ones or just thinking in knots. I'll even drop one from the list, if that makes it any easier. Where are they, and why should we trust you?"

Meanwhile, Art shifts his focus again - he will get answers, whether this fool gives them or not.
Switching out the [Large] [Throwing] Spike for a [Channeling (Spit)] [Rail] Organ (Read Thoughts). That takes 3 move actions, because Organs are slow - if something happens that throws us into combat time, never mind the [Rail] augment. Still not manifested, so it just looks like a bit of focusing. Not actually using the Read Thoughts yet - that would require being manifested.

Current True Form:
[Channeling (Spit)] [Rail] Organ (Read Thoughts): 3 FP, gives a 1d4 + Cha 30' (touch) Spit attack (so secondary, unfortunately), the ability to double the range of one feature once per round (bit of sniping), and the ability to manifest Read Thoughts at 10 HP (or Strange Movement) a pop.
([Throwing] Spike) x3: 6 FP (2 each), 3 1d6 60' thrown Stings.


Italics for thoughts this time around.

Come on, are they just going to drag their feet and grumble at me all day? This was supposed to be fun and here they go trying to reason and get answers. It's not like I have to reason, answer or even show them in the first place. Several images dance by. A tree filled with apples, an old dying cow, a small yet quite hairy spider, and a field of maimed bees littered about a great oak.
"That wasn't even one of the questions. I can't tell if you're avoiding the important ones or just thinking in knots. I'll even drop one from the list, if that makes it any easier. Where are they, and why should we trust you?"
The thought flicks through his mind dismissively and with all the impact of a single heavy falling raindrop, cur-plop, but all the same a reply just as easily dismissed falls beside it.
Great, more questions. Images flash once more, hallways of endless verities, a small grove of trees, over a short bridge spanning a seemingly endless crevasse, a room with leaky tiles on the ceiling, a trap door under a sink behind a bookshelf, faster and faster they come blending together until a stone emerges. Plain and green with tinges of blue somehow this pebble strikes you as an eye. All at once the stone becomes transparent and through it you see a woman very much like the countess reach out and slap Corina. Pointless questions, silly questions. The images come once more, a cat stuck in a tree, a dog chasing it's tail, a goose fleeing pursuit, and a monkey scrambling up and down and up a tree again trying to reach something just out of reach. "She is where I take you and for trust I ask, why trust I you?" There is no reason in the madness of a blindly wary horse who seeks only doubts and tripe and flounder in any and all course.

[Dycize]

The little moss-man nods somewhat hesitantly before asking. "You're a member of the family that lives here?" Decidedly it resists the urge to point out that people who introduce themselves as nobody in particular somehow always end up being the most suspicious people around.

And it comes down to this, of course.
Who would have thought discovering your family could be THAT game-changing? Sheesh.
"Yes, although it's a recent thing. Is there a problem?"
Maybe it was just a strange butler. This wouldn't be the only weird thing in this crazy house.

[drack]

Letting loose an enraged shriek the moss-man charges towards you, spear at the ready.

30' away roll initiative
[roll0]

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley took a moment to look around, then slipped off back the way she came, retracing her route back to the kitchen and keeping alert to any possible dangers.

Taking 10 on Hide and Move Silently for 24.

Spot: [roll0].
Listen: [roll1].

[Dycize]

Hearing the creature's shriek was enough to let Mirandelle know, this was no butler.
Having not yet dropped her guard, she dashes forth, seizing the initiative.

Charging the Mystery Moss Man.
Attack roll : [roll0]
If crit (19-20), confirmation : [roll1]
Damage : [roll2]
If crit and confirmed : [roll3]

[Qwertystop]

"Terms

Accepted."

"Proceed//Lead//Guide"

[drack]

Ashley took a moment to look around, then slipped off back the way she came, retracing her route back to the kitchen and keeping alert to any possible dangers.

Taking 10 on Hide and Move Silently for 24.

Spot: [roll0].
Listen: [roll1].

Ashley manages to trace her steps back base of the stair, and even to the kitchen or bedroom if she so chooses, but no sign remains of her siblings, even those that stayed!

Hearing the creature's shriek was enough to let Mirandelle know, this was no butler.
Having not yet dropped her guard, she dashes forth, seizing the initiative.

Charging the Mystery Moss Man.
Attack roll : [roll0]
If crit (19-20), confirmation : [roll1]
Damage : [roll2]
If crit and confirmed : [roll3]

The moss man, planting it's feet, leans back as if to dodge the blow, but still the blade catches the creatures puffed out chest, cleaving off a glob of something resembling crusted mucus. Crunchy, yet still slimy and soft. Appearing more infuriated then pained the moss man jabs at you with his spear.

for [roll]1d6=3 damage + poison (DC 17 fort save Vs. [roll1] con damage)


"Terms

Accepted."

"Proceed//Lead//Guide"

Glowing brighter and blurrier with every step the little man soon appears as little more then a hazy ball of light, bouncing and weaving through the air and easily keeping a pace the forces the two of you to run. That alone might have been fine, but the wisp doesn't take a straight path. Instead it bobs and weaves up a staircase, into the first door on the left into what appears to be a storeroom, through a second door into a solitary little room with an ascending staircase, up into another hallway. Left left right the wisp flies into a hallway filled with trees and brush, on it flies past the three foot tall muscular man that blocks your way, and on out of sight. The man sneers at you, his beady orange eyes staring through his wispy grey hair which had been blown into his eyes by the wisp's passing. Most strikingly however are the man's boney claws and talloned feet, one of which taps the floor irritably like that of a man waiting for an explanation.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. The house was infested by fey. One attack by guards could be overlooked, but the animate door sealed the deal. And as strange as some of the hallways she had passed had been, it was probable that their infiltration was complete. Heck, for all Ashley knew, the oddball assortment of late arrivals could have just as easily been fey soldiers as actual family members. Part of her wanted to go hunting after the others, but all that was likely to do was get her ambushed, and she was not a fighter. Without any knowledge of where they had gone off to and considering the internal size of the house (which, itself, may have been indicative of fey infiltration), the chance of getting lost and attacked was far greater than the chance of finding one of her siblings.

So she headed for the exit. The house was overrun, so the logical place for everyone to meet up was outside of the house. She just had to hope her siblings followed the same logic. She'd use her wand to heal the bruise the door had given her on the way.

Cure attempts until at at least 35 hp:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

HP: 38/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (~6 minutes).

[Qwertystop]

"Greetings
and apologies
if we startled you."

"Might we get past? A sibling is apparently at risk through this door."

[Dycize]

The moss man, planting it's feet, leans back as if to dodge the blow, but still the blade catches the creatures puffed out chest, cleaving off a glob of something resembling crusted mucus. Crunchy, yet still slimy and soft. Appearing more infuriated then pained the moss man jabs at you with his spear.

for [roll]1d6=3 damage + poison (DC 17 fort save Vs. [roll1] con damage)


Mirandelle manages to effortlessly deflect the blow with her shield.
Now.
Her eyes focusing on the moss-man, she swings her heavy pick in a quick, precise motion, aiming to end this fast.

Initiating an Insightful Strike!
Attack roll : [roll0]
If it hits, I roll a concentration check instead of my damage.
Damage : [roll1]

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to spit a warning, but the wispling shot forth like a crossbow bolt and the only thing to do was follow... and notice as things shifted. To many twists and turns, certainly not the keep's architecture...

I get a feeling we aren't in the keep any more...

Not the keep, no, but some sort of faen reflection. And oddly familiar. What was nagging at him? His rapid heartbeat filled his ears... ah. The song was quiet now, barely more than soft whispers, beckoning. It felt... like home. But home does not mean safety, came the rush of cold and icy thoughts, the song breaking to his lips in eerie and inhuman whisper. Home is a place of ice and treachery...

Leaking indeed.

Subtle changes in tone and demeanor have become stark and pronounced, and where once stood an uncertain young man, barely more than a child now stands... well, a sense of menace is palpable in the air around the half fae, frost misting on his breath and his wings. A stillness seems to hang in the air.

'Tis the nature of their kind, born of unseelie lies to lead the unwary to their deaths, through faerie rings or jagged cliffs or the dark cold depths of forgotten lakes' Lucien whispered, odd tonal shifts buoying beneath his voice. You can hear the horse cry of carrion ravens in his speech. More pronounced now, without noticing, he has shifted languages as he sees the gatekeeper. 'But treason only bites if it is unforseen,' he croaks in the tongue of the fae, in old and forgotten winter dialect.

Knowledge (any relevant, they are all +15) [roll0]
What is the gatekeeper and what is it's usual MO

readied action: uncapped elemental dart (reserves of strength): [roll1] elemental damage based on whatever knowledge check says about weaknesses should gatekeeper try anything hostile. [roll2] vs DC12 to recover vs my own stun

[drack]

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. The house was infested by fey. One attack by guards could be overlooked, but the animate door sealed the deal. And as strange as some of the hallways she had passed had been, it was probable that their infiltration was complete. Heck, for all Ashley knew, the oddball assortment of late arrivals could have just as easily been fey soldiers as actual family members. Part of her wanted to go hunting after the others, but all that was likely to do was get her ambushed, and she was not a fighter. Without any knowledge of where they had gone off to and considering the internal size of the house (which, itself, may have been indicative of fey infiltration), the chance of getting lost and attacked was far greater than the chance of finding one of her siblings.

So she headed for the exit. The house was overrun, so the logical place for everyone to meet up was outside of the house. She just had to hope her siblings followed the same logic. She'd use her wand to heal the bruise the door had given her on the way.

Cure attempts until at at least 35 hp:
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

HP: 38/40.
Bardic Music: 7/7.
Bard Spells: 3/5/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (~6 minutes).

Outside the house it's a beautiful day. Within the humble wooden wall you see a small stable with a small cluster of guards about it, another guard at the gate, and a middle aged man leading a mule with a cart presumably of supplies towards the manor.

"Greetings
and apologies
if we startled you."

"Might we get past? A sibling is apparently at risk through this door."

The short angry man looks you up and down before hawking a glob of spit at your feet, still glowering without having moved an inch.

Lucien's eyes narrow as he opens his mouth to spit a warning, but the wispling shot forth like a crossbow bolt and the only thing to do was follow... and notice as things shifted. To many twists and turns, certainly not the keep's architecture...

I get a feeling we aren't in the keep any more...

Not the keep, no, but some sort of faen reflection. And oddly familiar. What was nagging at him? His rapid heartbeat filled his ears... ah. The song was quiet now, barely more than soft whispers, beckoning. It felt... like home. But home does not mean safety, came the rush of cold and icy thoughts, the song breaking to his lips in eerie and inhuman whisper. Home is a place of ice and treachery...

Leaking indeed.

Subtle changes in tone and demeanor have become stark and pronounced, and where once stood an uncertain young man, barely more than a child now stands... well, a sense of menace is palpable in the air around the half fae, frost misting on his breath and his wings. A stillness seems to hang in the air.

'Tis the nature of their kind, born of unseelie lies to lead the unwary to their deaths, through faerie rings or jagged cliffs or the dark cold depths of forgotten lakes' Lucien whispered, odd tonal shifts buoying beneath his voice. You can hear the horse cry of carrion ravens in his speech. More pronounced now, without noticing, he has shifted languages as he sees the gatekeeper. 'But treason only bites if it is unforseen,' he croaks in the tongue of the fae, in old and forgotten winter dialect.

Knowledge (any relevant, they are all +15) [roll0]
What is the gatekeeper and what is it's usual MO

readied action: uncapped elemental dart (reserves of strength): [roll1] elemental damage based on whatever knowledge check says about weaknesses should gatekeeper try anything hostile. [roll2] vs DC12 to recover vs my own stun


He seems to be a Bajang, totally coppying the entry here...

Living deep in cursed forests, bajangs grow in tree trunks like pustules of evil, emerging to terrorize nearby settlements. Evil nature spirits found in corrupted tropical jungles, bajangs are typically encountered near the site of a bloody battle, the burial place of an evil wu jen, or the secret meeting place of an evil cult. They look like stunted, stocky humans (averaging 3 feet tall, 120 pounds) with blunt noses, wispy hair, and pale brown skin. Their eyes are beady and orange, and their wide, lipless mouths are permanently creased in evil sneers. Their hands are bony claws, and their feet resemble the talons of a vulture.

Bajangs are vicious and devious fighters, preferring weak or helpless prey. They prefer to attack sleeping victims or ambush single characters from behind.


Mirandelle manages to effortlessly deflect the blow with her shield.
Now.
Her eyes focusing on the moss-man, she swings her heavy pick in a quick, precise motion, aiming to end this fast.

Initiating an Insightful Strike!
Attack roll : [roll0]
If it hits, I roll a concentration check instead of my damage.
Damage : [roll1]

Your sword slices through the head of the fungle man taking his face clean off and leaving but bare bones below. A thick purplish blue blood oozes slowly from the moss man as his face begins to regrow, for now however only the bleeding stops, a pale film forming where the face had been. First teeth pierce through the film, broken and mangled, yellowed and rotting even when newly grown. The moss man doesn't however wait long to put them to use, throwing his spear aside he falls upon you with claw and tooth alike.

[roll0] for [roll1] + poison on hit (DC 17 fort save vs. [roll2] con damage)
[roll3] for [roll4] + poison on hit (DC 17 fort save vs. [roll5] con damage)
[roll6] for [roll7]

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gave a breath of relief as she made it outside. Safety!

The thought came with a feeling of guilt. Yeah. Safety for her. But her siblings, her family, were all still inside, facing who knew what.

But...what could she do? Fey were tricksy. They had, like, illusions and things. She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a battle mage. She was a chef, a storyteller, and even if she could set weapons aflame, it wasn't much good if she didn't have any skill at hitting anything with those weapons. Better that she stay out here, so that if others got out she could tell them not to go back in.

Then she realized there were guards out here.

Guards who had cold iron weapons.

Guards who had skill at hitting things with those cold iron weapons.

And that, was an entirely different story!

"All guards assemble immediately! The house is under attack by fey! Your charges are threatened! We need to get in there and help them!" Ashley called.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle defended herself as she could, with shield and weapon alike, however, an attack managed to bypass her guard, and grunts as the pain hits her.
At the same time, she felt some of her forces leaving her. Poison? Or something else? Whatever it was, this was bad news.
She grunts and renew her assault, the creature was regenerating, but not enough to recover from the damage, have to push more...

Okay not too sure on the wording of the Tome of Battle, but spending a swift action to recover my manoeuvers. It must be followed by a melee attack...
I assume I can do a full round action, if not, let's just take the 1st roll as standard attack and add +2 (because of shield bash).
1st Heavy Pick swing : [roll0]
Damage : [roll1]
If critical (19-20), confirmation roll : [roll2]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll3]
2nd Heavy Pick swing : [roll4]
Damage : [roll5]
If critical (19-20), confirmation roll : [roll6]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll7]
Shield bash : [roll8]
Damage : [roll9]
If critical (20), confirmation roll : [roll10]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll11]

[Qwertystop]

Art glances down to the spittle.

If you insi s t t t t

Art's voice rattles and falls away - and his lower jaw, with a single sizzling drip following it, the skin remaining in a bag, lips tightly shut - and three fingers on his left hand, though the bone stays behind.


He /twists/ inward, gaunt, joints cracking as he moves, head forward and tilted back, right arm hanging limp while his left rises, held in sharp angles.

Manifesting! (Swift action)
Door-guard has to make Will DC 17, or be shaken.
Initiative: [roll0]
If I get a surprise round, making a 5' step back, and one Spit attack:
Attack: [roll1] vs Touch AC
Damage: [roll2]
Will edit in fluff for that surprise round if it actually exists.

[DoctorGlock]

Lucien's vision began to tunnel as time seemed to slow. His brother-thing shifted and popped, flickering through combat forms even as the Song's jagged and violent words crystalized on his own lips.

Look at it, refusing to bow and give you your proper due... a display of dominance would do well here. Head this sort of thing off in the future...

What? It was in the way, and more than likely belligerent, but... where had that come from?

Why do you fight it?

Were those even his words anymore? They bubbled up from the colder places of his mind unbidden.

They will not accept you, even if you save them. They already look at you with fear and loathing. Like every other mortal you have touched... your fellow squires... your teachers... your father...

Mortal? What kind of thought was that. I am mortal!

Why do you cling to such weaknesses? Doubt. Hesitation. An insipid and binding morality... you walk like a scared child when you should stride with your head held high like a prince...

His hand was already coming up into an offensive gesture, though he did not notice. The whisper of arctic wind around him had began to mount into a screaming howl.

I don't want to scare them too! They are the only ones beyond father that seem to care... Lucien thought frantically as the world seemed to spin and fade.

And now they see what you are, and they too will turn away. You don't need them. Why not take up your mantle? Let a lord return once more to the halls of Winter...

He no longer stood in the fae touched halls of the family keep but before a vast gate of ice and bone and ancient stone. The wind howled around him through jagged spires and frozen thorns and all about was the sensation of being watched, of something waiting. It was familiar... he had seen it in a dream, yes?

No dream, this. Speak the words, open the gates...

And in the Faen-touched halls of his father's keep a familiar haunting melody breaks Lucien's lips, along with a surge of cold and hate as icy spears extend from his fingers, instantly crossing the gap between him and the Bajang.

'You will know who you dare to insult, lesser, and nevermore know the touch of the moon. Let all who stand before the scion of Winter know this thrice' he croons.

Oh dear, looks like he won't be lucid for a little while. Let's just hope this doesn't create an awkward situation when everyone bursts in with cold iron looking for fey.

I am releasing that readied action from last post. 59 freezy doom damage to the face, DC 17 fortitude for half, rolling initiative after that, [roll0]

[drack]

Ashley gave a breath of relief as she made it outside. Safety!

The thought came with a feeling of guilt. Yeah. Safety for her. But her siblings, her family, were all still inside, facing who knew what.

But...what could she do? Fey were tricksy. They had, like, illusions and things. She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't a battle mage. She was a chef, a storyteller, and even if she could set weapons aflame, it wasn't much good if she didn't have any skill at hitting anything with those weapons. Better that she stay out here, so that if others got out she could tell them not to go back in.

Then she realized there were guards out here.

Guards who had cold iron weapons.

Guards who had skill at hitting things with those cold iron weapons.

And that, was an entirely different story!

"All guards assemble immediately! The house is under attack by fey! Your charges are threatened! We need to get in there and help them!" Ashley called.

at first the guards look ready to treat your proclamation as a joke, but as you mention "attack" and "fey" they snap to attention, marching over to you. Among them you recognize Peter who smiles warmly at you despite his obvious anxiety.

Mirandelle defended herself as she could, with shield and weapon alike, however, an attack managed to bypass her guard, and grunts as the pain hits her.
At the same time, she felt some of her forces leaving her. Poison? Or something else? Whatever it was, this was bad news.
She grunts and renew her assault, the creature was regenerating, but not enough to recover from the damage, have to push more...

Okay not too sure on the wording of the Tome of Battle, but spending a swift action to recover my manoeuvers. It must be followed by a melee attack...
I assume I can do a full round action, if not, let's just take the 1st roll as standard attack and add +2 (because of shield bash).
1st Heavy Pick swing : [roll0]
Damage : [roll1]
If critical (19-20), confirmation roll : [roll2]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll3]
2nd Heavy Pick swing : [roll4]
Damage : [roll5]
If critical (19-20), confirmation roll : [roll6]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll7]
Shield bash : [roll8]
Damage : [roll9]
If critical (20), confirmation roll : [roll10]
If crit confirmed, bonus damage : [roll11]

OOC

I'll allow the full attack since I'm not all too concerned with balancing mechanics in this game. :smallsmile:

The queer little man jumps back avoiding your first swing and dodges your third bringing himself face to face with your shield which hits home hard enough to crack ribs. still the man's face continues to regenerate, unfocused eyes float to the surface as if taking shape as the film presses in against them, an abnormally large and crooked nose bursts free of the film adding to the creature's hideous nature. Invigorated the little man continues to claw and scrape at you.

[roll0] for [roll1] + poison on hit (DC 17 fort save vs. [roll2] con damage)
[roll3] for [roll4] + poison on hit (DC 17 fort save vs. [roll5] con damage)
[roll6] for [roll7]


Art glances down to the spittle.

If you insi s t t t t

Art's voice rattles and falls away - and his lower jaw, with a single sizzling drip following it, the skin remaining in a bag, lips tightly shut - and three fingers on his left hand, though the bone stays behind.


He /twists/ inward, gaunt, joints cracking as he moves, head forward and tilted back, right arm hanging limp while his left rises, held in sharp angles.

Manifesting! (Swift action)
Door-guard has to make Will DC 17, or be shaken.
Initiative: [roll0]
If I get a surprise round, making a 5' step back, and one Spit attack:
Attack: [roll1] vs Touch AC
Damage: [roll2]
Will edit in fluff for that surprise round if it actually exists.



Lucien's vision began to tunnel as time seemed to slow. His brother-thing shifted and popped, flickering through combat forms even as the Song's jagged and violent words crystalized on his own lips.

Look at it, refusing to bow and give you your proper due... a display of dominance would do well here. Head this sort of thing off in the future...

What? It was in the way, and more than likely belligerent, but... where had that come from?

Why do you fight it?

Were those even his words anymore? They bubbled up from the colder places of his mind unbidden.

They will not accept you, even if you save them. They already look at you with fear and loathing. Like every other mortal you have touched... your fellow squires... your teachers... your father...

Mortal? What kind of thought was that. I am mortal!

Why do you cling to such weaknesses? Doubt. Hesitation. An insipid and binding morality... you walk like a scared child when you should stride with your head held high like a prince...

His hand was already coming up into an offensive gesture, though he did not notice. The whisper of arctic wind around him had began to mount into a screaming howl.

I don't want to scare them too! They are the only ones beyond father that seem to care... Lucien thought frantically as the world seemed to spin and fade.

And now they see what you are, and they too will turn away. You don't need them. Why not take up your mantle? Let a lord return once more to the halls of Winter...

He no longer stood in the fae touched halls of the family keep but before a vast gate of ice and bone and ancient stone. The wind howled around him through jagged spires and frozen thorns and all about was the sensation of being watched, of something waiting. It was familiar... he had seen it in a dream, yes?

No dream, this. Speak the words, open the gates...

And in the Faen-touched halls of his father's keep a familiar haunting melody breaks Lucien's lips, along with a surge of cold and hate as icy spears extend from his fingers, instantly crossing the gap between him and the Bajang.

'You will know who you dare to insult, lesser, and nevermore know the touch of the moon. Let all who stand before the scion of Winter know this thrice' he croons.

Oh dear, looks like he won't be lucid for a little while. Let's just hope this doesn't create an awkward situation when everyone bursts in with cold iron looking for fey.

I am releasing that readied action from last post. 59 freezy doom damage to the face, DC 17 fortitude for half, rolling initiative after that, [roll0]


Readied actions trigger when the specified event occurs, in this instance directly after the creature attacks. Your initiative order is determined as falling into that position for the duration of combat unless otherwise affected. Oh I do so love my readied actions. :smallsmile: They can admittedly be hard to use though.

Rolling initiative for now so I know how this goes down before I post.
[roll8]

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley returned Peter's smile, and looked over the guards. "Okay, all, here's what we're dealing with. There are fey creatures inside. I got attacked by a walking, talking door. There may be more as well. Some of the rooms had looked...odd, when I was passing through them, I expect due to fey magic. Hopefully illusions. Most important thing is for all of us to stay together. We're going to move carefully and methodically. You guys know the place better than I do, so if you see anything out of place, let me know. And take a close look at it; if you study an illusion intently enough, you might be able to see through it. If you do, alert the rest of us immediately. We're going to gather as many people as we can and get out of this place. Yell for members of the family periodically; the easier we make it for them to find us the better, and my voice is going to be occupied. Stealth isn't going to be viable, but that's okay. Any fey we encounter, we tear through. You've all be equipped with cold iron weapons, right? Get them out and ready, I've got a little magic to work, and then we're moving."

Ashley would wait for the guards to get their weapons out, drawing her own bow and nocking an arrow as she did, and then start chanting a low, repetitive rhythm of draconic words. She brought her newfound siblings' faces to mind, imagined them alone, confused, under attack by fey assassins. She had just found her family. She wasn't going to lose them!

Red-gold flames would blaze into being around every weapon drawn.

"Let's move," she said, speaking the words in the rhythm of the chant, and headed into the house with the soldiers, prepared to take it back from the fey.

Ashley's casting Inspirational Boost, then activating Dragonfire Inspiration with Words of Creation. She takes [roll0] nonlethal damage. All allies who can hear her get +4d6 fire damage on all attacks. She will maintain the inspiration until otherwise noted or she becomes unable to, so new allies will also receive the benefits as they join up.

Question: How many guards are there?

I'm thinking Ashley will stick to center ranks; a front-liner she ain't. Any guards who get injured can fall back to a central position so she can provide healing with her wand.

If the guards see anything that looks out of place, or if Ashley sees something that just seems weird, assuming there's no hostiles around she'll take a standard action to study it in an attempt to recognize if it's an illusion. Ideally, she'd like the guards to do so as well, although I'm not sure if I can micro-manage their actions to that degree.

We're going to explore the first floor, and then head upwards, exploring each floor as thoroughly as possible and calling out for people as we go. For now, exploring the lower floors is off the list entirely. I'm not crazy enough to do that with only NPC backup, Dragonfire Inspiration or no :smalltongue:.

HP: 38/40 (8 Nonlethal).
Bardic Music: 6/7.
Bard Spells: 3/4/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (~5 minutes).

[Qwertystop]

And Art sprays vileness forwards as he himself flows back, coating his foe, not with some caustic spittle, but with wounds - cuts - punctures without source.

This is just the action from the previous post, as the rolls and such were made there. Original crunchblock quoted:


Manifesting! (Swift action)
Door-guard has to make Will DC 17, or be shaken.
Initiative: [roll0]
If I get a surprise round, making a 5' step back, and one Spit attack:
Attack: [roll1] vs Touch AC
Damage: [roll2]
Will edit in fluff for that surprise round if it actually exists.

[Dycize]

And somehow, the longer the battle lasted, the more the creature's true awful colors surfaced...
Nonetheless, the creature's rage was getting in the way of its accuracy, as Mirandelle deflects the blows.
Then strikes back, again trying to make this as quick as possible.

And time for another Insightful Strike! Attack roll, if hit, concentration check in place of damage.
Attack roll : [roll0]
Damage : [roll1]

[drack]

Ashley returned Peter's smile, and looked over the guards. "Okay, all, here's what we're dealing with. There are fey creatures inside. I got attacked by a walking, talking door. There may be more as well. Some of the rooms had looked...odd, when I was passing through them, I expect due to fey magic. Hopefully illusions. Most important thing is for all of us to stay together. We're going to move carefully and methodically. You guys know the place better than I do, so if you see anything out of place, let me know. And take a close look at it; if you study an illusion intently enough, you might be able to see through it. If you do, alert the rest of us immediately. We're going to gather as many people as we can and get out of this place. Yell for members of the family periodically; the easier we make it for them to find us the better, and my voice is going to be occupied. Stealth isn't going to be viable, but that's okay. Any fey we encounter, we tear through. You've all be equipped with cold iron weapons, right? Get them out and ready, I've got a little magic to work, and then we're moving."

Ashley would wait for the guards to get their weapons out, drawing her own bow and nocking an arrow as she did, and then start chanting a low, repetitive rhythm of draconic words. She brought her newfound siblings' faces to mind, imagined them alone, confused, under attack by fey assassins. She had just found her family. She wasn't going to lose them!

Red-gold flames would blaze into being around every weapon drawn.

"Let's move," she said, speaking the words in the rhythm of the chant, and headed into the house with the soldiers, prepared to take it back from the fey.

Ashley's casting Inspirational Boost, then activating Dragonfire Inspiration with Words of Creation. She takes [roll0] nonlethal damage. All allies who can hear her get +4d6 fire damage on all attacks. She will maintain the inspiration until otherwise noted or she becomes unable to, so new allies will also receive the benefits as they join up.

Question: How many guards are there?

I'm thinking Ashley will stick to center ranks; a front-liner she ain't. Any guards who get injured can fall back to a central position so she can provide healing with her wand.

If the guards see anything that looks out of place, or if Ashley sees something that just seems weird, assuming there's no hostiles around she'll take a standard action to study it in an attempt to recognize if it's an illusion. Ideally, she'd like the guards to do so as well, although I'm not sure if I can micro-manage their actions to that degree.

We're going to explore the first floor, and then head upwards, exploring each floor as thoroughly as possible and calling out for people as we go. For now, exploring the lower floors is off the list entirely. I'm not crazy enough to do that with only NPC backup, Dragonfire Inspiration or no :smalltongue:.

HP: 38/40 (8 Nonlethal).
Bardic Music: 6/7.
Bard Spells: 3/4/1/1.
Mirror Images: 2 (~5 minutes).

The guard, now ready for action, marches in pace with you through the manor. In twenty minuets of maneuvering around tight corners and through crowded halls you've ascertained that the first floor is clear, and the stampede of feet and flaming weapons charges on up the stairs. At the sight of the corridors where begemmed halls meld into those decorated with a hundred thousand clocks however the guard stops short. As if having cleared the area however the formation begins to wheel about as if to turn their backs to the other equally strange hallways and return to the more normal sections of the manner.


And Art sprays vileness forwards as he himself flows back, coating his foe, not with some caustic spittle, but with wounds - cuts - punctures without source.

This is just the action from the previous post, as the rolls and such were made there. Original crunchblock quoted:



The little man grunts as chunks of himself fall to the ground about him. If he looked pissed before his deepening scowl tells you he wants to slowly tear your limbs from your bodies. Jumping into action he brings his claws to bear against the Ozodrin without a second thought. Throwing all the weight of his small form into it he claws left and then right. A predictable motion, but one executed with the speed and power or someone who really does want to tear you apart.


5' step forward
Claw attack [roll0] for [roll1] damage DC 13 save v. [roll2] str damage on a hit
Claw attack [roll3] for [roll4] damage DC 13 save v. [roll5] str damage on a hit


And somehow, the longer the battle lasted, the more the creature's true awful colors surfaced...
Nonetheless, the creature's rage was getting in the way of its accuracy, as Mirandelle deflects the blows.
Then strikes back, again trying to make this as quick as possible.

And time for another Insightful Strike! Attack roll, if hit, concentration check in place of damage.
Attack roll : [roll0]
Damage : [roll1]

Your pick catches the fungal man in the stomach, punching clean through it causes an explosion of puss to shower from the little man's back and front like a popped pimple. Little is left of the man, a stray arm, his mostly-regenerated head, a pair of legs that look like they were ripped off someone. The other arm must have been caught in your strike because it's nowhere to be found.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Guys? We need to explore the entire place," Ashley said, her voice a bit sing-songy as she spoke the orders in the rhythm of her chant, but still grimly serious enough for all that. If she were perfectly honest, she didn't much like the idea of heading into those twisted halls either. But she would. Her family was counting on her. "Come on, it's nothing we can't take!"

Diplomacy to try to get the guards to press on? [roll0]

[drack]

Lucien's vision began to tunnel as time seemed to slow. His brother-thing shifted and popped, flickering through combat forms even as the Song's jagged and violent words crystalized on his own lips.

Look at it, refusing to bow and give you your proper due... a display of dominance would do well here. Head this sort of thing off in the future...

What? It was in the way, and more than likely belligerent, but... where had that come from?

Why do you fight it?

Were those even his words anymore? They bubbled up from the colder places of his mind unbidden.

They will not accept you, even if you save them. They already look at you with fear and loathing. Like every other mortal you have touched... your fellow squires... your teachers... your father...

Mortal? What kind of thought was that. I am mortal!

Why do you cling to such weaknesses? Doubt. Hesitation. An insipid and binding morality... you walk like a scared child when you should stride with your head held high like a prince...

His hand was already coming up into an offensive gesture, though he did not notice. The whisper of arctic wind around him had began to mount into a screaming howl.

I don't want to scare them too! They are the only ones beyond father that seem to care... Lucien thought frantically as the world seemed to spin and fade.

And now they see what you are, and they too will turn away. You don't need them. Why not take up your mantle? Let a lord return once more to the halls of Winter...

He no longer stood in the fae touched halls of the family keep but before a vast gate of ice and bone and ancient stone. The wind howled around him through jagged spires and frozen thorns and all about was the sensation of being watched, of something waiting. It was familiar... he had seen it in a dream, yes?

No dream, this. Speak the words, open the gates...

And in the Faen-touched halls of his father's keep a familiar haunting melody breaks Lucien's lips, along with a surge of cold and hate as icy spears extend from his fingers, instantly crossing the gap between him and the Bajang.

'You will know who you dare to insult, lesser, and nevermore know the touch of the moon. Let all who stand before the scion of Winter know this thrice' he croons.

Oh dear, looks like he won't be lucid for a little while. Let's just hope this doesn't create an awkward situation when everyone bursts in with cold iron looking for fey.

I am releasing that readied action from last post. 59 freezy doom damage to the face, DC 17 fortitude for half, rolling initiative after that, [roll0]

Your darts of ice fly forth tearing their way into the little man's flesh, sitting in him like so many pins in a pincushion. Clearly in pain he lets loose a bellow of feral pain, deep yet quiet, restrained by the little man's glowering rage.

Figured Ice would be the most thematic element. :smallsmile:



"Guys? We need to explore the entire place," Ashley said, her voice a bit sing-songy as she spoke the orders in the rhythm of her chant, but still grimly serious enough for all that. If she were perfectly honest, she didn't much like the idea of heading into those twisted halls either. But she would. Her family was counting on her. "Come on, it's nothing we can't take!"

Diplomacy to try to get the guards to press on? [roll0]

"Yeah, what about the other floors?" One of the guards asks in a reasonable tone.
"I'm sure the countess would call us if there was trouble here..." another adds.

[Dycize]

Your pick catches the fungal man in the stomach, punching clean through it causes an explosion of puss to shower from the little man's back and front like a popped pimple. Little is left of the man, a stray arm, his mostly-regenerated head, a pair of legs that look like they were ripped off someone. The other arm must have been caught in your strike because it's nowhere to be found.

Mirandelle quickly backsteps to avoid the shower of disgusting fungus-man thing. An arm, the head, and legs.
Might as well make sure, you never know with regenerators.
She aims to finish off the head, then backtracks to where she started. Quick. The mansion was clearly not safe anymore period and people need to be warned. And Ashley also went in alone... And who knows where Corina is now?...

[drack]

As you're squishing the head you notice something in the oozy puddle of slime. Something yellowish, a small bag protruding from a particularly thick glop of yellowish-green puss, and a couple of coins hanging in gelatinous suspension.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley looked surprised for a couple seconds, before she got it. Some sort of enchantment. Suggestion was her first thought, but that seemed unlikely; there were certain tells when one's mind was being directly influenced by enchantment, and the guards weren't displaying them. She had heard of certain wards that made places subtly influence people away from them. It may have been something like that. She wondered if the guards were just seeing a normal hallway.

Wards like that, from what she had heard, relied on only the subtlest of psychic aversions. Decisive intent should, she hoped, override them. "Your objection is noted, but in the name of being thorough, we must fully explore every floor and hall. Even if there is no specific danger, people may be hiding there, and we have to get them out. So let's move," Ashley said, still in the rhythm of her chant, and started forward towards the hall. At the very least, if the guards refused to follow, she'd know that she was dealing with a more complex compulsion.

[drack]

The guards stand unmoving, but as you begin to venture out Peter runs out to you. "Wait, wait, don't you know what that is? We're not supposed to go here, lets go back Ashley, we have to sweep the rest of the manner."


Yup, I've totally forgotten his speech color and I'm not digging it back. Peter now speaks in monotonous uncolored text. :smalltongue:

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Why aren't we supposed to go there?" Ashley asked, though she did stop. Her instincts urged her to push on, to find her family, but who was to say the guards weren't simply being prudent? She'd hear Peter out, at least.

[drack]

Taking a breath Peter begins and already you know this is going to be a long explanation. "Well, firstly, you know that we're all decedents of fey, that somewhere in our lineage was one of the fair folk right?"

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley just nodded, still keeping up her chant.

[Qwertystop]

Art takes the blow and moves somehow against it, sliding backwards as he is clawed from the sides, then retaliates. This time, the spray of wounds is followed, as his left arm slashes a full vertical circle and flings out shards of fingerbone, which regrow swiftly.

5' step back again, and making a full attack.
Spit:
[roll0] touch attack
[roll1] damage

Stings:
[roll2] attack
[roll3] piercing damage

[roll4] attack
[roll5] piercing damage

[roll6] attack
[roll7] piercing damage

Unless you decide to count the several Stings as a set, the way two Claws are a set, in which case they're all primary, at +11 to attack instead of +9, and with the +1 Strength to damage instead of only 1/2 strength (which rounds down to 0). As far as I am aware there's no general rule on what qualifies, just the fact that some creatures have, for example, two Claws as primary weapons in their full attack.

[DoctorGlock]

The frigid lances had barely left Lucien's right hand before he spun, dancer fluid, as cold, pallid blue flames guttered in his left, a flick of the wrist launching a torrent of the pale wisp-fire behind the brutish assailant, detonating with an eerily silent 'whump,' lost in the young Fae's keening song. It's brief flicker of wan light cast long and twisted and inhuman shadows behind him.

At some level, he could feel the ice crystalizing at his temples, and with it a profound sense of mortal danger, but the urgency was lost amidst visions of the howling wastes and the pounding tempo of a melody only he could hear...

ok, when my turn starts i just launch a reserves buffed firebolt assuming he's alive and sine i dunno if i'll be online again before tuesday

I target the ground slightly behind him to avoid roasting art with the AOE

[roll0] vs SR
DC 16 reflex half
[roll1] damage
[roll2] vs stun, dc 12

[drack]

As the Fingerbone shards pierce the Bijang it begins to sway under it;s injuries, knocking into a tree and in doing so driving the ice shards deeper into its innards. Stumbling back it collapses in a mound at your feet. As it does you hear the rustling in a bush off to the side as a dryad comes running out, hands balled into fists and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her musical voice howls "You killed him! You killed him! You killed him! You killed him!..." Charging forward she punches Lucien in the chest. Still she cries "You killed him! You killed him!..."

dryad punch!
[roll0] for [roll1]
Warning, I may be using outdated 3.0e rules for punching. :smallconfused:


assuming you still cast your fireball

The flames erupt around the dryad consuming it and spitting out only a blackened wooden husk at your feet. Suddenly the two of you are left alone amidst the overgrown hallway.


Ashley just nodded, still keeping up her chant.

"Well, the Countess is where we get our fey blood from. She's half or quarter fey, something like that..."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"So this section of the manor is...supposed to be like this?" Ashley asked. Alright, fact was, there wasn't time to argue. Work a compromise. "Alright, look, let's just explore the rest of the manor first, then we'll decide what to do from there. That sound okay to everyone?" Assuming it did, she'd lead the way to the next unexplored section, and continue her search, all the while hoping she wasn't leaving anyone behind.

[drack]

"No it's, um..." Seeing you weren't in the mood to wait he quickly answers with. "OK." rejoining the squad as it roams about the manner.

Venturing through the manor you encounter no less then seven rooms at different areas of the house, warded with enough magic that everyone seems to know better then to recklessly approach, but for these rooms they confirm that the lack of scorch marks and splattered bodies mean that they are clear. At last you circle back to the stairway down to the dungeon at which they also stop before. "Um..." Peter starts anxiously as if requesting permission to speak.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"You'd have to be crazy to go down to the dungeon, right?" Ashley asked. Her voice was starting to get hoarse at this point, and sweat was gleaming on her face from the constant strain of the low-grade energy that was flowing into her words. This didn't make sense. Where was everyone? "Okay, guys, we're going to have to head back to the Countess' area. It's showing the most obvious signs of the fey, and we've searched everywhere else up here. We'll check back outside first, to make sure everyone hasn't already evacuated, but otherwise," she looked to Peter, "What were you telling me earlier, about the Countess's area?"

While he explained, she'd direct the group back to check out front to see if anyone was out there.

[Qwertystop]

As the opposition falls, the Artisan rotates to congratulate Lucien on their success - and sees the dryad run in.

He snaps back to normal. "That would be me, actually."
"And, brother, if something was 'leaking' before, you've completely torn the stopper now."

[DoctorGlock]

...Lucien stood before the frozen gates in his mind's eye, the song in his head resonating with inevitable command, his right hand extended to work his will...

In the halls of the keep, the Bajang fell, pierced by dozens of frigid spears and his brother's rage. The wind was rising...

...He wore a crown of ice-encrusted thorns and frozen mulberries upon his brow and raised his other arm to the gate...

The pale light of the witchfire flickered in his left palm as he spun, casting inhuman and twisted shadows across the verdant hall, reflecting in the crown of ice that had begun to crystalize on his temples...

...Will it... And so shall it be... Your rightful place... Heir...

The whispers surrounded him. The gate lets out a thunderous crack as the ice split, and creaking they began to open. Lucien began to take a step forward...


And something struck him in the chest.

'Brother...'

The word filtered through the haze of his mind.

Brother. Not spoken in fear or distrust either...

Perhaps by the only person he has ever known strange enough that this wasn't out of the ordinary to him. Lucien's eyes snapped back into focus, the blackness retreating into the pupils where it belonged, back into the shadows of his mind. Pale fire died on his outstretched hand and faded like mist in the morning even as ice sublimated to mist itself on the air.

Ah, terror. That was the response to what was left.

'Gods above! It wasn't a trap for us... he gasped, pale and shuddering, still not entirely seeing the world around

[Dycize]

Mirandelle stared at the coins and purse inside the slime.
"Are you kidding me. Fairy gold eh? Heh... Ahem." she chuckled to herself.
She then took the purse, shaking off the slime and checking its contents, then picking up the coins and putting them in her bag of holding.
Then she goes back to where she last meet Ashley.

[drack]

"You'd have to be crazy to go down to the dungeon, right?" Ashley asked. Her voice was starting to get hoarse at this point, and sweat was gleaming on her face from the constant strain of the low-grade energy that was flowing into her words. This didn't make sense. Where was everyone? "Okay, guys, we're going to have to head back to the Countess' area. It's showing the most obvious signs of the fey, and we've searched everywhere else up here. We'll check back outside first, to make sure everyone hasn't already evacuated, but otherwise," she looked to Peter, "What were you telling me earlier, about the Countess's area?"

While he explained, she'd direct the group back to check out front to see if anyone was out there.

The front of the manner seems to be as you left it.

I'm also unsure if you wanted to evacuate people, if not they're still about doing their day to day things.

"Well, you see, we've been told to not enter when we see an area like that, to turn back, you weren't?"

As the opposition falls, the Artisan rotates to congratulate Lucien on their success - and sees the dryad run in.

He snaps back to normal. "That would be me, actually."
"And, brother, if something was 'leaking' before, you've completely torn the stopper now."


...Lucien stood before the frozen gates in his mind's eye, the song in his head resonating with inevitable command, his right hand extended to work his will...

In the halls of the keep, the Bajang fell, pierced by dozens of frigid spears and his brother's rage. The wind was rising...

...He wore a crown of ice-encrusted thorns and frozen mulberries upon his brow and raised his other arm to the gate...

The pale light of the witchfire flickered in his left palm as he spun, casting inhuman and twisted shadows across the verdant hall, reflecting in the crown of ice that had begun to crystalize on his temples...

...Will it... And so shall it be... Your rightful place... Heir...

The whispers surrounded him. The gate lets out a thunderous crack as the ice split, and creaking they began to open. Lucien began to take a step forward...


And something struck him in the chest.

'Brother...'

The word filtered through the haze of his mind.

Brother. Not spoken in fear or distrust either...

Perhaps by the only person he has ever known strange enough that this wasn't out of the ordinary to him. Lucien's eyes snapped back into focus, the blackness retreating into the pupils where it belonged, back into the shadows of his mind. Pale fire died on his outstretched hand and faded like mist in the morning even as ice sublimated to mist itself on the air.

Ah, terror. That was the response to what was left.

'Gods above! It wasn't a trap for us... he gasped, pale and shuddering, still not entirely seeing the world around

"Oh what does it matter!?" The dryad cries, "He's dead, my poor sweet Gortatrad is dead!"
Sobbing she continues to pound Lucian's chest with her thin wooden arms.

[roll0] for [roll1] damage
[roll2] for [roll3] damage



Mirandelle stared at the coins and purse inside the slime.
"Are you kidding me. Fairy gold eh? Heh... Ahem." she chuckled to herself.
She then took the purse, shaking off the slime and checking its contents, then picking up the coins and putting them in her bag of holding.
Then she goes back to where she last meet Ashley.

The bag stubbornly refuses to open, tied as it is with a terribly complicated knot, why the whole bag seems to be made of such knotted threads. In coins however you find five silvers and sixteen coppers, and when you pull the gold from the thicker ***** green goop you find that it is in fact a small spool of thin golden thread.

At the thought of where you had last seen your sister, the spool unwinds of it's own accord, slipping in through a nearby doorway.

The myth of Theseus and the Minotaur has now officially been ripped off. :smallwink:

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley stopped, staring blankly at Peter for several seconds. The flames on the weapons began to die down as she finally ceased the chanting. "So...you guys knew that the manor had areas that were warped by fey magic?" she asked. "Peter, um...okay. Guys!" she called to the guards. "Do me a favor, get a count of who we have out here. I need to know how many people we still have in the manor. We're heading back in in five minutes. Peter, can we talk, please?" she asked, nodding towards a less-occupied area of the courtyard.

[Dycize]

Agh come on! Why do they make everything so complicated!
Thought Mirandelle as the knotted purse resisted. She decided to keep it in her bag along with the few coins, however-
Oh please, now a magical gold spool.
She hesitated for a second, then decided to go after it. She was pretty lost anyway, what is the worst that could happen?... Way too many things to possibly think of right now.
But inaction leads nowhere, so after the spool she goes!

[drack]

Ashley stopped, staring blankly at Peter for several seconds. The flames on the weapons began to die down as she finally ceased the chanting. "So...you guys knew that the manor had areas that were warped by fey magic?" she asked. "Peter, um...okay. Guys!" she called to the guards. "Do me a favor, get a count of who we have out here. I need to know how many people we still have in the manor. We're heading back in in five minutes. Peter, can we talk, please?" she asked, nodding towards a less-occupied area of the courtyard.

"Um, yes, certainly." He replies, apprehensive to speak so freely after your great show of command. Carefully he sheaths his sword and straps his shield back onto his hip to free up his arms.

Agh come on! Why do they make everything so complicated!
Thought Mirandelle as the knotted purse resisted. She decided to keep it in her bag along with the few coins, however-
Oh please, now a magical gold spool.
She hesitated for a second, then decided to go after it. She was pretty lost anyway, what is the worst that could happen?... Way too many things to possibly think of right now.
But inaction leads nowhere, so after the spool she goes!

The spool leads you into the room, through a window into a room painted to look like the sky, down a trap door with painted clouds across it, and there you find the corridor you last parted with Ashley.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley led Peter off a ways. "Okay...Peter, what is going on in this house? Last night Mirandelle got attacked by four of our guards in her own bed. This morning I find out that she wasn't the only one. I know it wasn't the same four guards, because the other ones got killed too, thank the gods. Corina went off on her own and when Mirandelle and I went to look for her, I found myself in some crazy hallway and got attacked by a talking door of all things. We got a lot of people out, which is good, but I haven't seen Corina since we woke up this morning, Lucien or Art since I made breakfast, or Mirandelle since we split up. And now we just found ourselves in another crazy hallway - or maybe it was the same one, I honestly don't know at this point - which is clearly under fey influence, and you guys tell me you're under orders not to go into places like that. To say nothing for the basement that you'd have to be crazy to enter."

"After the attack last night, Corina was saying we aren't safe here. I argued with her. But now I'm really starting to think she was right. Hostile fey have access to the manor itself and to the guards who defend it. There are entire sections of the manor that the guards have been warned against entering, but we weren't. My brothers and sisters are in there somewhere and I have no idea where they are, what they're facing, or if they are even-" She stopped, took a long, shuddery breath. "What are we dealing with here, Peter? What do we know?"

[Qwertystop]

Art pauses.

"We searched for our injured siblings.
He obstructed.
We asked passage.
He refused.
We escalated.
He responded in kind.
He was fragile."

He pauses, and looks to Lucien for support.

[DoctorGlock]

'Always too fragile...' Lucien whispers, eyes wide and face pale and shaking as he begins backing away from the enraged Dryad

[drack]

Ashley led Peter off a ways. "Okay...Peter, what is going on in this house? Last night Mirandelle got attacked by four of our guards in her own bed. This morning I find out that she wasn't the only one. I know it wasn't the same four guards, because the other ones got killed too, thank the gods. Corina went off on her own and when Mirandelle and I went to look for her, I found myself in some crazy hallway and got attacked by a talking door of all things. We got a lot of people out, which is good, but I haven't seen Corina since we woke up this morning, Lucien or Art since I made breakfast, or Mirandelle since we split up. And now we just found ourselves in another crazy hallway - or maybe it was the same one, I honestly don't know at this point - which is clearly under fey influence, and you guys tell me you're under orders not to go into places like that. To say nothing for the basement that you'd have to be crazy to enter."

"After the attack last night, Corina was saying we aren't safe here. I argued with her. But now I'm really starting to think she was right. Hostile fey have access to the manor itself and to the guards who defend it. There are entire sections of the manor that the guards have been warned against entering, but we weren't. My brothers and sisters are in there somewhere and I have no idea where they are, what they're facing, or if they are even-" She stopped, took a long, shuddery breath. "What are we dealing with here, Peter? What do we know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. So many questions, but where do I even start?" Grasping he says "How about the basement?"

[drack]

OOC
Well that was clever of me... posting the half without any rolls...


Art pauses.

"We searched for our injured siblings.
He obstructed.
We asked passage.
He refused.
We escalated.
He responded in kind.
He was fragile."

He pauses, and looks to Lucien for support.


'Always too fragile...' Lucien whispers, eyes wide and face pale and shaking as he begins backing away from the enraged Dryad

"Too fragile? Too fragile? Is that supposed to excuse you killing him!?"

She's still hittin' ya man.
[roll0] for [roll1]
[roll2] for [roll3]

[Quellian-dyrae]

"That's fine," Ashley agreed.

[DoctorGlock]

Ok, that's 13 damage that has gotten by Lucien's 17 AC, 12 Temp HP from Amulet of Tears activation. So he actually felt that one.

-1 HP.

Lucien is still shaken and pale faced, continuing to back away from the Dryad, only half seeing her.

...They always turn away in fear, foolish child. Did you really think this time would be any different?

'No... never meant...' he trails off, his words beginning to break and tumble.

The walls seemed to be closing in. Dark. Cold. Needed to be somewhere else. The blood called too loud here...

Lucien let out a screaming wail of frustration and rage his voice cracking into a deafening chorus of raven cry as he seems to stretch and distend in too many directions at once before he discorporates, dozens of crows screaming on a frigid winter wind, darting towards every window and hallway.

You can't run forever.

5 foot step back, defensive casting probably becomes unnecessary then, dimension door which does not need line of sight so much as direction. Reserves of Strength to max out range. Gives me 800 feet in a straight line. Dunno how big the fortress is but none are that tall and I have wings. Up it is.

[drack]

"Well, that's the prison. Access is generally restricted since several of the prisoners can play mind games on anyone who enters." Peter shrugs as if to say that it's a simple reason really.

Up above Lucien appears out of thin air.

[Qwertystop]

Art looks about.

this

this was

this was not

this was not meant to happen


unintended
and now
gone
alone


no

not alone no

avoid
___delay

"I did not intend to excuse. Only to indicate null intent."

cast off
reduce
focus

"I had not wanted to kill him//Goratrad and it is very unfortunate that such has happened//occurred."

focus
harden
reduce

"I am very sorry."

And Art falls to dissolving bits in a cloud of unspecified opacity, and runs from the center of the mess in - as best he can recall - the direction he came from.

So, this takes...
Dropping all the Spikes plus augments is a Free action. Leaves me with one [Channeling (Spit)] [Rail] Organ.
Then, adding on, at 3 FP per Move/Standard action:
Compress (size down by one, as the Compression psionic power)
Exhaling (assorted ability to make space-filling SFX cloud - 50' concealment cloud for Move or Swift action, or purely cosmetic own-square-and-adjacent for a free action. Does damage (Fort negates) if I'd stacked it but I'm not stacking it.)
Iron Flesh x2 (total 2 DR/Admantine)
Hide x2 (total +4 natural AC)

So that's a full round, done while talking I suppose.

The next round, Swift action to change (Will DC 17 or Shaken).
Move action to make a 50' (spread) cloud of total-concealment that lasts one round.
Second Move action to move 30' away.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Okay, so...so you guys have been fighting fey for a while then, I take it? I mean, to have several of them in a dungeon, and stuff? But what about the ones that were in the house? And the Countess' area? What's the deal with that?"

[drack]

"No, they're human, but there are some in our custody that were raised by the fey, changelings they're called. Suffice it to say its been a crazy few weeks even before you guys got here. Still, I'm glad you're here then lost and alone out there..."

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley nodded for Peter to continue.

Just so you know, I really have nothing for Ashley to react to at every step. If you want to let Peter just explain things in one post, I can ask for any clarifications or whatever I can think of afterwards.

If you need me to clarify what information she's trying to get from him further, let me know.

[drack]

"...recently though there have been fey attacks. Fortunately the countess has been granted the power to make ferie realms. They're like stretched out pockets of space. She's been using them to contain and confuse any fey that ever do get into the mansion. You're sure nobody's told you any of this?"

~inside
As Lucien vanishes the dryad shifts to bounding Art's unstable form instead, shouting "...and now you're just going to run away, you monsters!"

As you begin to run under cover of the cloud of smoke, the dryad wails with her sorrowful loss and fury causing vines to burst up through the floor.

entangle DC 13.

[drack]

rolls
still forgot the rolls... disappointed... :smalltongue:

[roll0] for [roll1], and if you already have smoke up, [roll2] 50+ hits
[roll3] for [roll4], and if you already have smoke up, [roll5] 50+ hits

[Dycize]

Okay, this is going to be really useful.
She thought, holding the spool, finally back to a more normal place.
Who should she look for 1st? Corina? She was searching for her in the 1st place... But there's also Ashley, who also went her own ways and didn't seem like the wizardly-sort. The brothers were last seen safe, so it should be okay?
She held the spool, and hesitantly said.
"Bring me to Ashley?..."

[drack]

The golden spool unravels once more, winding through the hallways and corridors. Soon it leads you out of the mansion entirely and off into the neatly trimmed lawn beside the house.

Art:

As you wander through the winding, and ever more confusing hallways, you notice a glimmering glow approaching you. As it draws nearer you notice it's Punkylit!

[DoctorGlock]

Tattered wings beat a few times as Lucien halts his descent and lands behind a parapet, slumping against one of the towers of the keep, still in shock.

...Hiding? From the truth? Really, fragile, stupid child...

He closed his eyes to shut out the glare of the sun, perhaps to hide from the world.

Murder. He had stolen a life right before the victim's loved one. Unforgivable.

...Really? Had he known his place and simply stood aside this never would have happened...

No! Had I more control! Had I analyzed the situation...

...He deserved it. His kind are brutish and murderous enough. That's a moral justification. It was evil in your eyes, and by your right you judged it unworthy...

No. That's a rationalization, a bad one. Collective punishment is not a knightly virtue.

...Admit it to yourself then. You enjoyed the power. You enjoyed the rush of certainty. Rulership...

Lucien cracked his eyes open and stared straight ahead, and try as he might he could not deny it.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"We were told that members of our family had been attacked by fey, but not that they had attacked the manor, or anything about fey holding...dimension...things. Or changelings in dungeons."

"Okay, then here's the important question. Are we safe here? In your best estimate, Peter. I...I know you're part of the guard, and you want to believe that you can protect us, and that it's safe. But we were attacked by guards last night, and I was attacked in the halls this morning. Now...if you're confident that the traitors have all been dealt with, and that I just wandered into the wrong place and as long as no one does that we'll be fine...okay. I'll believe you. But Peter, I need, need, need you to be absolutely sure, because if I tell everyone it's okay to go back inside but just stick to certain parts of the house, and it's not secure, people will die. Okay? So, what do-"

And then she stopped, halting cold as her sister walked outside. "Mirandelle!" she cried, delight and relief plain on her face and in her voice, and she ran over to throw a hug on her impulsively before realizing that might have been overstepping and backing off. "You're okay! Oh thank the-" she said, before she noticed, nope, she wasn't okay. Or not entirely at any rate, although the injury didn't seem that bad. Nonetheless, Ashley already had her wand out.

What's Mirandelle's hp looking like? Want some healing or should I save the charges?

[drack]

Tattered wings beat a few times as Lucien halts his descent and lands behind a parapet, slumping against one of the towers of the keep, still in shock.

...Hiding? From the truth? Really, fragile, stupid child...

He closed his eyes to shut out the glare of the sun, perhaps to hide from the world.

Murder. He had stolen a life right before the victim's loved one. Unforgivable.

...Really? Had he known his place and simply stood aside this never would have happened...

No! Had I more control! Had I analyzed the situation...

...He deserved it. His kind are brutish and murderous enough. That's a moral justification. It was evil in your eyes, and by your right you judged it unworthy...

No. That's a rationalization, a bad one. Collective punishment is not a knightly virtue.

...Admit it to yourself then. You enjoyed the power. You enjoyed the rush of certainty. Rulership...

Lucien cracked his eyes open and stared straight ahead, and try as he might he could not deny it.

A bird flies by you in the otherwise vacant sky.

[Dycize]

"Ah, thanks again Ashley. I'm really starting to tax on this wand... Better me than someone else I guess. Anyway, I was attacked by a yellow moss-fungus man thing in the manor. Well it attacked when I told it I was from the family. And likely poisonned me a bit too... But now it's dead. I hope. In any case I got this on its remains."
She shows the golden spool to Ashley.
"It seems to unravel towards places when I'm searching for them, you probably saw it when I arrived here. And thanks to it I arrived here at all!"
She then notices Peter and the guards around.
"...Something happened around here too?"
She looked around, trying to make out the situation, but mostly looking at Ashley and Peter, herself still looking a bit pale after the healing.

[Qwertystop]

Art:

As you wander through the winding, and ever more confusing hallways, you notice a glimmering glow approaching you. As it draws nearer you notice it's Punkylit!

we were walking
we met this

everything was wrong
and then everything was worse

nothing was making sense
and then it only got stranger

unstable
bizzarre

an insult, a fight
but then death-murder-grief
but assassination exists
nothing working how it should

trust is for similarity, for family
not for this thing


Art runs on past it silently.

[drack]

Punky-lit shrugs. "If you don't want to come I suppose I am no longer obliged to take you then..." The Will-o'-wisp leaves the statement hovering in the air as you pass.

[Qwertystop]

Art ignores him.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I got attacked by a door," Ashley replied, voice perfectly balanced between deadpan amusement and mopey sarcasm.

"Wait, that string can lead you places? What about to people? We were going through the house trying to find everyone, and we found a lot of people, but we couldn't find you guys! I still don't know where Art and Lucien and Corina are. We got everyone out here. Peter was just telling me about what's going on here...apparently the Countess, uh, our grandmother I guess? She's part fey, and can create these kinda fairy dimension things to trap fey in. I think that might be what we stumbled into. If the others did too...they could be in a lot of danger."

Ashley looked back to Peter then. "Listen, I want you to think about what I asked, okay. You don't have to make a decision right this second. But think about it. We need to find the others, and then we need to know if we're safe here, or if not, we need to come up with a plan. Okay?"

[drack]

"OK" Peter concludes resolutely. "I'll come, but I won't have the other guards go with me. Not with the count and countess asking that they not."

[Quellian-dyrae]

"Might be better that you stay here. Just...think about what I asked you, okay? Once we're back, we need to know how we proceed from there. If you aren't sure, talk to people, try and learn what you can about these fey areas and stuff. Okay?"

Then she looked to Mirandelle, "What do you say, should we see about finding the others?"

[Dycize]

"Who do you think we should look for first? I think Corina, since, well, we were searching for her to begin with."
She was asking, but still pretty much decided to go looking for Corina in her mind. The brothers were together, they should be fine...

[Quellian-dyrae]

"I'd think Lucien actually. Since he was with Art last we knew, and their last known location was more recent than Corina's. If we find them first, there'll be four of us to deal with any fey we run into looking for Corina, rather than three if we find Corina first. But it's your call." Granted, Art would have been just as acceptable a choice, but given that they'd be seeking them out using some unknown magic item, Ashley figured there was a slightly higher chance that Art's, uh, uniqueness might interact with it in some unknown way. (Slightly higher. Gods knew Lucien was, himself, plenty unique).

[Dycize]

"Hrm. You're right. It would be safer that way... And I'm still a bit weakened. Then..."
She looked at the spool.
"Bring us to Lucien."

[drack]

Art ignores him.

Wandering on through the halls Art finally comes across Corina who too seems to be wandering through the halls. At the sight of you delight colors her face before suspicion covers it.

"Hrm. You're right. It would be safer that way... And I'm still a bit weakened. Then..."
She looked at the spool.
"Bring us to Lucien."

The golden thread unwinds almost immediately, rolling up the side of the building and then along the roof.


Tattered wings beat a few times as Lucien halts his descent and lands behind a parapet, slumping against one of the towers of the keep, still in shock.

...Hiding? From the truth? Really, fragile, stupid child...

He closed his eyes to shut out the glare of the sun, perhaps to hide from the world.

Murder. He had stolen a life right before the victim's loved one. Unforgivable.

...Really? Had he known his place and simply stood aside this never would have happened...

No! Had I more control! Had I analyzed the situation...

...He deserved it. His kind are brutish and murderous enough. That's a moral justification. It was evil in your eyes, and by your right you judged it unworthy...

No. That's a rationalization, a bad one. Collective punishment is not a knightly virtue.

...Admit it to yourself then. You enjoyed the power. You enjoyed the rush of certainty. Rulership...

Lucien cracked his eyes open and stared straight ahead, and try as he might he could not deny it.

A spool of golden thread rolls up onto the roof near you.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley looked at Mirandelle quizzically, before tilting her head back to look up to the roof, cupping her hands in front of her mouth, and yelling up, "LUCIEN!? ARE YOU UP THERE!?"

[Qwertystop]

Art
"hello//greeting//Cori-//there you are"
quivering in shape, shaken and shaking
"I can't//anymore"
relapsing.
"time to go"

[DoctorGlock]

A low rattling jolted Lucien out of his reverie. He looked up and saw a spool of golden thread rolling across the roof towards him. Before he could wonder, his sigbling's voice drifted up to him.

Yes, his siblings. Who were possibly in danger. While he sat in a morose moral quandary.

What the hell kind of knight did that?

You are no knight, boy...

Squashing down dark thoughts, Lucien composed himself and stood up. He could at least put on the appearance of dignity.

After what they saw? They know you are weak... you have to prove yourself now, or will you just run again?

Grimacing, Lucien leaped from the battlements, wings flaring wide to break his fall as he landed before his half sisters.

'Y-yeah. I'm here. But I think I lost Art,' he says, his voice distant and distracted, his hair and cowl still wet with melting ice.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gave a soft sigh of relief when Lucien landed, but concern crossed her face at both his words and his tone. She went to give him a quick hug, and asked softly as she did, "Are you okay?"

When she stepped back, though, she gave him a confident smile. "That's okay. We'll find him! And Corina! Mirandelle found a magic findy string. It finds people. With magic!" (If this whole chef thing didn't work out, maybe she had a future in sales).

[DoctorGlock]

Ashley gave a soft sigh of relief when Lucien landed, but concern crossed her face at both his words and his tone. She went to give him a quick hug, and asked softly as she did, "Are you okay?"

When she stepped back, though, she gave him a confident smile. "That's okay. We'll find him! And Corina! Mirandelle found a magic findy string. It finds people. With magic!" (If this whole chef thing didn't work out, maybe she had a future in sales).

Of course I'm okay. Worry about the others. The words began to bubble to Lucien's lips. Never let them know you are weak, or that hand on your back will hold a frigid blade. The meek inherit nothing...

'No' he whispered, eyes distant.

You foolish child...

[Quellian-dyrae]

The smile dropped from Ashley's face into an expression of worry. She'd be honest, she kinda hadn't expected that answer.

That put her in something of a quandary. What she was supposed to do here was sit down with her brother, talk with him, let him vent his concerns, support him. And she wanted to do that, but right now she couldn't. Not when she had another brother and another sister who were even now completely alone, lost in some fey-infested keep, possibly fighting for their very lives! (Or, you know, they might have found one another and been under no immediate threat and even then be heading for the exit. One of those two for sure!)

It was a rough decision, but standing around and agonizing over it didn't do anything for any of her siblings.

And physical peril had to trump emotional distress.

"Okay," she said simply, as consolingly as she could as she gave him another, tighter hug. "We need to find Art and Corina and get them to safety, okay? And then we'll talk. I promise. Is that alright? Can we do that?"

[DoctorGlock]

In truth, Lucien hadn't expected that answer himself. But she was right. Physical danger first. Horrible evil fey legacy leaking into his mind second. A wan look of resolve passes over Lucien's face as he nods.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley returns the nod with a slight and equally wan smile. "Okay," she says softly with a sort of half sigh, before turning to Mirandelle. "Who's next?"

[Dycize]

Mirandelle silently watched the would-be-touching-if-not-for-the-awkward-answer moment that Ashley seemed to be handling well.
She also wondered what the heck Lucien was doing on the roof, but it was not the time for that. Probably running away but, the roof?...
"We'll continue with the order you mentionned before, so Art is next."
She once again looked at the spool, and declared.
"Bring us to Arthur."

[drack]

Once more the magical thread unwound, weaving through vegetative hallways, those of shattered mirror walls, and those of winding colored streamers interwoven to form walls, ceiling, and floor alike. The thread unwinds through hidden trap doors and fake windows, and on further still. The thread unfurls on passing by everything with a mindless disregard, even the small crumpled form of a girl lying as if asleep amidst a rather luxurious hallway. Even past the crumpled and beaten form of your sister Corina Niall d'Mentha.

Further down the hall and around the bend

"Time to go? Time to... go?" Crona stairs back at him as confusion, fear, and nonrecognition slowly begin to paint her blank face, filling it with turmoil. Running to her brother grief, agony, and rage well up to the surface riding a wave of tears as her voice cracks "Why was I-" Firmly her hand balls into a fist as her voice cracks. Swinging her fist at her brother she cries out, searching for an answer "Why was I alone!?"


[roll0] for [roll1]
Totally a player call if you feel like you should apply dex mods, no dex mods, or the -5 dex mods that come with being helpless.
Map: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1IMXvBVfkVhZMnB-t5FfnFDuYTA3k-vBZo-Hvq2bjxhk/edit#gid=0

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley gasped when she saw Corina lying there, running over quickly. "Corina!" she cried out, kneeling down and drawing her wand, discharging a pulse of healing into her.

Judging by the map, the Listen check DC for Art to hear Ashley would be a 5. I'm just saying.

Wand Heal: [roll0].

[Qwertystop]

Art buckles under his sister's strike. Just another difficulty.
we were sear
ching for you
you ran off

come back
to structure
the mansion
the real one

The thread appears from around the corner, and Art jumps.

No! Wha-
it was
but this was the way back
but the way back should be things that fit
string shouldn't
but

what



surrounded

And Art backs to the wall, string on one side and where he came from on the other, and readies himself to defend his sister from whatever is coming with what little he has.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle's eyes widen as she sees Corina lying unconscious in the corridor, the spool winding further ahead.
Then seeing Ashley take care of Corina, she takes her weapon and shield in hand, moving cautiously around the corner, ready to defend herself.
[roll0]

[drack]

By unmoving Corona

The positive energy charges through her flesh, healing her wounds, stirring life within her, but her eyes don't open. Looking down on her, close enough to touch Ashley finds herself keenly aware that her chest neither rises nor falls, and while the bruises are healed, there's still blood smeared across her slackened jaw. Still she somehow looks peaceful, no more is her brow creased with worry and confusion, but rather she looks as if asleep, this face you've so recently come to know feels so warm and familiar. She... she's family, that must be what this means.

Around the corner

"Sear...ching for me? Go back? Why couldn't you find me sooner?! Why couldn't you have... Before she... Why!?" Again she swings at the misshapen mass that is her brother.

[roll0] for [roll1] damage