The Crown of Assam IC

[Raunchel]

The Crown of Assam


Introduction: The Feast of a Thousand Cooks


http://biblemesh.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/Feast4.jpg

Over the last few weeks thousands and thousands of people have been arriving in Assam. The innkeepers are happier than they have been in years, the prices for even the simplest room have increased tenfold. And all of them foran event in which only eleven will take part. The election. The official opening will be tomorrow, and the city is awash with talk about it. And from this city it spreads throughout the empire, and even beyond the ancient borders. There have been many secret meetings, and of course, many balls and feasts. Tonight, the night before it all begins, many of the greatest noblemen in all of Assam would have thrown lavish balls, but that has not happened.

The reason for that is simple enough. Rudo, the thane of Audley End has organized a feast. The halfling is well known as one of the greatest culinary experts in the whole world, and has spared no expense in this matter. Some even say that he has almost bankrupted his realm for tonight. He has hired more than a thousand cooks, to prepare an insane variety and quantity of food for his guests, which likewise number in the thousands, many noblemen, all the kings, and quite a number of courtiers.

Everyone who has accepted the invitation has been assigned a place, presumably based on the thane’s opinions. The kings, queens and greatest noblemen of the empire are at the main table, with the duke himself. The further away from them one is, the less important. All of you find each other somewhere near the middle of one of the long tables running away from the main table, seated together, even though many of you do not know each other. To some of you this would be insulting, to others a great honour.

[Mechanix]

Sitting squarely at the middle of the table, Heterion Soul-Born, half-giant champion of the Storm Queen, eats. The man is of impressive size - in any lesser surroundings he might have to bend in order to pass through any normal doors - but this is a banquet of kings, and the doors are high indeed; Heterion smiles as he puts more food on his plate.

From distant marshes come rice buns, a thin white envelope of dough translucent enough to see the dark filling of meat and onions beneath; he takes five, eating them in two bites. From the northern seas, crab meat minced powder-like and mixed with spices and algae to make a delectable paste, presented in elegant shells. And from his own lands, the mountains of the south, diced beef, cooked in honey and vinegar and seasoned with herbs, roasted until it seems to have been charred black - but so delicious on the inside.

"I do not usually eat much - my order is rather ascetic," he comments idly to one of his neighbours. "But there are some occasions on which we allow ourselves some revelry." He takes a silver cup, engraved with the arms of the royal house, and raises it to his lips. "The mead is to die for."

[Thokk_Smash]

The ceremony is lavish, and the preparations extensive. For days, Ragoth Undecim has followed his brother around the kingdom, sticking to him like a shadow as a good bodyguard should. Trained in diplomacy though he was, he had not been called on to speak much, for it was his brother who would partake in the election process. Still, he enjoyed the sights and attractions greatly, and even the talks were a nice change of pace from the last few years.

The feast, however, is the first time that he can step away from his brother and do something for himself. About time, he thought to himself as he got ready. Exotic clothing of the fine silk colored deep gold, fringed in black and red, are draped over his form as he enters the feast room. Piercing gold eyes regally sweep the room as he steps into the room, easy smirk on his face.

A smirk which drops down as a small hand messes up his slicked back hair. You look waaaay weird in that getup, Ra, thinks Mab, the small fey creature sitting on Ragoth's shoulder. She is dressed relatively well for the occasion, for one of her temperament at least.

Hush, Mab, he grouses telepathically, smoothing back his hair with the ease of practice. The two continue to banter telepathically as he finds their seat, surprisingly far away from his brother. Technically, he supposes he should be closer to the Thane--after all, he's also part of the Goldoa royal family, even if he isn't the ambassador. Still, with his history...best to not make a fuss of it.

Sitting right next to the behemoth of a half-giant, Ragoth looks smaller than he is. But he looks up at the giant man as if he were the most normal thing in the world, and gives an easy and wide smile. A big fellow such as yourself, not eat much? You've a greater self-control than I would have, my friend. His voice is low and growling, but despite that he sounds amiable and friendly as he reaches for his own plate.

He piles it high with succulent roasted duck, golden brown with thyme and rosemary spices. He scoops up a few boiled dumplings, fluffy dough covering vegetables and shrimp. From the eastern sea-line, his home, there are slabs of succulent salmon and delightful crab, slathered in sauce and covered in mushrooms. There are bowls of roe of varying species: sturgeon, salmon, tuna, and even more exotic. He grabs a whole bowl of sturgeon caviar, to save for dessert, as he begins on his main courses.

Offering his cup to clank against Heterion's, he says, If there is any time for revelry, now is it. Celebrating the life of our old emperor, and deciding upon a new. You're from Heaven's Reach, right? How is it going down there? I know that my great-aunt went down to visit, and help with a batch of particularly stubborn white cryohydras.

I'd originally had Goldoa as in the south, since fire-breathing dragons would be very effective against creatures of the cold. However, since Heaven's Reach is down there, and Aurum would've picked a spot without people for miles around, I moved it to the eastern seaboard since gold dragons get water breathing as a special ability.

[Mechanix]

The half-giant laughs at the comment. "Then I raise this cup to your great-aunt, and her no doubt fine work in helping the people of my kingdom!" He takes another sip, then scans the table thoughtfully, wondering what he'll take next. "Hydras - particularly the white kind - are a plague on the lower lands. They hide in the rivers, you know, swim upstream and sink ships as they come, or they bury themselves under the snow and cause avalanches when they rise. Nasty beasts. But Heaven's Reach... It's doing as well as could be hoped under the guidance of a new queen and after a foreign invasion. What was destroyed, has been rebuilt. Our new Storm Queen is finding her way, and I am by her side to ensure that none may harm her. But we do have some trouble with monsters lately, as many resources have be" With a greedy look, he takes a small honey cake shaped in the form of a bee, and swallows it one bite. "Wonderful. I am Heterion, Champion of the Storm Queen, though a man of common birth, a contradiction which I surmise warranted a place right in the middle. Where are you from, friend?"

[Cognomeng]

"This is truly a mighty feast!" Sssthren pulls an entire roasted boar towards him, and several whole large fish. He expertly takes several large chunks of meat from the boar with his knife, and puts them and the fish on his plate. He lifts one fish and looks at it appraisingly. "These may be the preferred meat of my people but damned if I know what I am supposed to call them." He finishes it in one swallow. He washes that down with the mead the giant is advertising and laughs. "Truly your order must be ascetic if you think is to die for! Here try some good Dwarven brew." He fills a tankard from a Dwarven barrel and passes it down.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker sat across the table from the giant, and he listened with varying intensity and distraction to the discussion he and his neighbours were having. When his attention was not on the near discussions, he was spending his time either looking around at the various other dignitaries in the area, or intently studying the greatest of nobles at the head table. He was trying to decide whom he should support with the little weight it might bring, since his town effectively no longer existed. He counted his presence here to be largely due to bureaucratic interia as much as due to a genuine desire to hear the recommendations of the gnomish community of Williamsberg, a town founded by the human ancestor of the last Emperor, but settled primarily by gnomes for generations.

The Toymaker fiddled with his food, taking things from plates virtually at random. He piled his plate with swans tongues and lobster, sweet oat cakes and roast antelope, without paying any real attention to what he took or to what he put into his mouth with each individual mouthful. He did not actually need to eat, one of the rings on his hand removing the need for food and drink. He ate out of politeness and to fit into the crowd, since an abstainer would surely draw attention at such a spectacular feast. Besides, he was simply more interested in the goings on around him than he was in the food. When the giant across from him recommended the mead, he held out his empty mug and waited for it to be filled. "I will try some of that," he said as he waited for the mug to be filled. Once it was, he took a long draw from it, then said, "You are right. It is a fine drink." Despite his lack of thirst, the drink was surprisingly good, smooth with a sharp kick to the aftertaste. He reached up to his shoulder to tickle the strange contraption that rested upon it. It seemed to be a small metal dragon, finely crafted and beautifully detailed to look like the real thing. "I am called Toymaker. Where I come from it is traditional for craftsmen to be named after their craft,
" he said, lying to his fellows around him. There was, in truth, no such tradition. But he doubted that any present would know that, and if they did, he doubted that anyone would call him on the fact. But it was simply easier than telling strangers the origin of his title. "And this little fellow is called Bolt," he added, indicating the tiny dragon.

[Thokk_Smash]

Ragoth grins with a characteristically draconic peeling back of his teeth. I'm sure Aunt Amalthea did wonderfully against them--considering a gold dragon's affinity for fire, after all. After hearing that, Heterion may be reminded of the adult gold dragon that arrived from Goldoa about six months past, a sibling to the high queen of Goldoa.

We've been having some trouble with monsters on our borders, as well: nothing on the level of an enemy invasion, but enough to keep us busy. Just last month my squad fought off a platoon of hobgoblins and orcs. They seem to be getting more daring by the month. Oh, sorry, where are my manners. I'm from Goldoa; my name is--

Ragoth, look at that thing on the guy's shoulder! Mab squeals, shoving Ragoth's shoulder and pointing at Bolt sitting on the Toymaker's shoulder. It looks so cool!

Without waiting for his reply, the tiny extraplanar creature zips from his shoulder to hover next to the Toymaker, looking with wonder at Bolt. Her delicate wings thrum with excitement as she asks, What is he? Does he eat? Can he do tricks? Ooh, ooh, did you make him?

Ragoth gives the Toymaker an apologetic smile as his familiar and friend bombards him with questions. Turning back to Heterion, he says, As Mab said, my name is Ragoth; Ragoth Undecim. He doesn't expound further on his name, choosing that time to resume eating in earnest. If they know of his reputation, nothing he can do about that; but he doesn't have to explain his background to complete strangers.

Of course, just 'cause he doesn't want to explain his backstory, doesn't mean people can't have heard of him; his reputation would kind of precede him, sadly. Ahem: Ragoth Undecim is the second son, and third child of five, of the third generation of Goldoan royalty. Seeing as the current queen, the dragon Aurum, is hardly planning on dying soon, he is quite far removed from the throne. He seems to be something of a black sheep in the family.
He is a black sheep due to his eldritch abilities, abilities reserved for those referred to as a Warlocks, as well as several unfortunate happenings that happened more recently. Rumors say his position worsened about a decade ago: he was imprisoned by his own country for a half decade, and then made to fight in the Long Riders--Goldoa's border patrol, and by extension the border patrol of that region of Asam--as his parole.He was imprisoned because he accidentally killed his younger brother in a fit of rage, while his siblings were trying to stop him from killing a noble. How he wasn't executed is a miracle, and topic of hushed discussion for those few in the know.

[Mechanix]

The half-giant chuckles at the lively demeanor of the other guests. For a moment, he was afraid that this would be strictly a gathering of aristocrats and politicians, mens whose concerned were far removed from his, depriving him of an enjoyable conversation. But on the contrary, quite a few of the individuals present hail from the strange and wonderful corners of the empire - lizardfolk, men with... strange features, all partaking of the fine meal. He takes the tankard with a word of thanks and takes one gulp from it, savouring it with a critical look.

"Indeed, this is a fine brew. I do myself prefer the honey taste of mead, but dwarven beverages are among the best. Hell, I'll have another, I should think." Given the man's size and statue, it seems plausible that he could partake of all the drinks on the banquet table twice over before suffering ill effects; certainly he shows no sign of drunkenness yet. He raises his cup in greeting to the Toymaker and his pet - a wonder of tinker technology such as he has rarely seen, as the dwarven forges of his kingdom prefer grander, more ostantatious designs.

"Your aunt... is a gold dragon?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise (and perhaps a hint of doubt). Then understanding dawns on him, and he nods thoughtfully. "Of course... Ragoth Undecim." He smiles. "Your reputation precedes you, I'm afraid; though such is a lot of many at a table like this. I myself find a certain comfort in being merely known as a glorified bodyguard - I would not enjoy the prying eyes and venomous gossips on the court at my back. For all that, Ragoth, you have my condolences and sincere wishes."

[paradox26]

The Toymaker smiled indulgently at the tiny fey creature as she studied Bolt. The tiny dragon dug its claws into his shoulder slightly in nervousness at this close examination. The Toymaker winced a little at the sharp pinpricks, and he reached up and stroked the dragon's neck. "His name is Bolt, little one," he said to Mab. "He is a pseudodragon I built. I was able to bring him because he is so small, like yourself. I have built bigger brothers for him, but they are too big to bring to dinner, so they have stayed at my inn. One is a lion and the other is a manlike mechanical. As for whether he can do tricks, he is of limited ability. He understands you when you speak, and I can command him to obey your orders. I am sure he won't mind, though he is a little shy." He looked to his shoulder and said, "Bolt, obey the commands of the little fey one, until I command otherwise." He looked back at Mab and said, "Now he will obey your orders, so you can order him to play with you if you like.

[Morcleon]

The sheer amount of food nearly overwhelms Hatsuyuki as she takes her seat at the table. Looking around and grinning slightly, she begins to pick out portions from each dish, succulent cuts of beef and pork, savory soups, sweet pastries, all freshly cooked and perfectly presented.

Perking up at the mention of Heaven's Reach, Hatsuyuki takes a measured bite out of a meat filled biscuit. "Ah, you're one of the Storm Queen's subjects? Tell me, did the weapon and armor shipments from Darkforge make it on time? I suspect some of them will prove particularly useful against the monster problem you have."

She smiles and her eyes twinkle in amusement. "Oh, where are my manners. I am Hatsuyuki, countess of Darkforge. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Thokk_Smash]

This isn't so bad. Certainly better than being around the higher nobility, with their judgmental looks and snide comments. Great aunt, he corrects with a lopsided grin. Or is it great-great aunt? One of the two. And I know, I know, I don't look like much; my brothers and sisters got far more of my dragon ancestor's blood than I did. But such is my lot in life. I grew up with the whispers of court in my ears; they were practically my lullabies. This gathering is no different: next month there will be a new topic for the gossips to whisper about, and we can all go back to our lives.

And, well...thank you, for what you said. His voice barely falters as he thanks the man for his sincerity, almost as if he is unused to such words.

Meanwhile, Mab is fluttering back and forth in front of Bolt, studying him with a deep intensity and a wide grin. You actually built him? That's amazing! He looks so complicated and intricate. And you built others, too? You must be an awesome engineer. At the thought of being able to play with the mechanical pseudodragon, Mab claps her hands and squeals with excitement. Oh, thank you, thank you! Bolt, let's play tag.

She flies up to the mechanical marvel and taps him lightly on the paw. Now you have to catch me and tag me, and then I try to tag you again. It'll be fun. Now, come on! With that, she zips into the air, turning around to make sure that Bolt follows before beginning the chase.

Mab, be careful! Don't knock anything over. They'll take it out of my hide, Ragoth thinks to Mab sternly. He is rewarded by the mental equivalent of a sarcastic salute--very impressive, how Mab had managed to come up with that. Sighing, he says to the Toymaker, Thank you for indulging her. She can be a bit overbearing when she sees something that interests her. I must say, if your other constructs are even half as fine as this one, then you are an impressive craftsman indeed. Are there any other craftsman as skilled as you in your homeland?

[paradox26]

The Toymaker watched with interest as the tiny dragon chased the diminutive fey. The dragon was not actually intelligent, so instructions had to be carefully given. Fortunately, Mab had given the instructions in such a way that Bolt would obey. He felt a fond attachment to the little dragon, and he hoped that he would be happy having a chance to play with someone the same size, though he knew deep down that the dragon felt nothing. He had become so much more than a mechanical invention to him in the time since he had been built.

He turned to the newest speaker and rose to his feet, an awkward movement while seated at the table. He offered a shallow bow to the Countess. "Well met, milady," he said to her in formal greeting. Feeling that was sufficient for now, he then lowered himself back to his seat, and continued to talk to the man who had shown an interest in his work. "There used to be workmen with greater skill than I, but most of them died when my hometown was destroyed," he said. "My other inventions are a little different. The lion looks more like the real thing than Bolt does. And my bodyguard Clang is more obviously mechanical than the other two, but he is more intelligent, and is capable of independent action. He is really the pinnacle of my craft, whereas the other pair are really just tools, as fond as I am of them."

[Mechanix]

Perking up at the mention of Heaven's Reach, Hatsuyuki takes a measured bite out of a meat filled biscuit. "Ah, you're one of the Storm Queen's subjects? Tell me, did the weapon and armor shipments from Darkforge make it on time? I suspect some of them will prove particularly useful against the monster problem you have."

She smiles and her eyes twinkle in amusement. "Oh, where are my manners. I am Hatsuyuki, countess of Darkforge. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Heterion bows deeply at this statement - a somewhat awkward gesture given his size and the fact that he is seated at a table, but somehow he pulls it off - at this statement.

"My Lady, it is an honor. This evening keep impressing me with the people in whose presence I am brought; I am ashamed of my own lack of status in such a fine gathering."

He smiles wryly, and it's clear that his humility, while in part sincere, is also in part exaggerated for the purposes of pleasing his audience, a game of etiquette of sorts. "Last I heard, your shipment had been received with much pleasure by the Warden of the Dwarves. Now, it would no secret to youthat they have been trying for years to reverse-engineer your forging process so as to overtake your business... But if I believe the cries of frustration that arise from our mountain forges at night, and the smiles of our soldiers as they got their hands on your equipment, I would say that we still have long decades of prosperous trade ahead of us."

[Thokk_Smash]

Ragoth gives a graceful movement of his hand towards the countess--a rarely used but acceptable replacement for a bow to be used while seated. Milady, a pleasure, he says, before immediately returning to his previous conversation.

An intelligent machine? Extraordinary. And you say there were craftsmen even more skilled than you in your homeland before it was destroyed? A shame, truly a shame. Is there any chance of being rebuilt? The empire could use more craftsmen of your caliber.

Above their heads, Mab zips in the air as Bolt chases her. After a bit, Mab lets the mechanical dragon catch up to her and tag her. My turn, my turn! she cries gleefully. She gives the dragon enough time to start flying away before beginning chase. Ragoth keeps an eye on her from the side of his vision, glad that she is happy.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker watched the pair of diminutive friends as they played, flitting around the large room. He enjoyed the lightheartedness they displayed, especially the little fey, since his own creation actually had no real feelings, which slightly reduced his sense of freedom that he felt when he watched Bolt play. The fey, Mab, on the other hand, was a creature of pure vitality.

"I am not the greatest of the inventors in my homeland, though there are few who remain now. I fear that our glory days may be passed. It will take a great deal of time before we might recover. Besides, my creations are little more than toys, designed to delight the masses, and to show them analogues of creatures they would otherwise never see," he said. He took a bite of something spicy, and the bite was enough to make him glance down at it. Whatever it was, it was a fiery red in colour, which probably should have alerted him to its spicy potential. He hastily took a drink of mead. The liquid did little to remove the sting of the food, but it did cool his mouth just a little.

[Raunchel]

The feast is enjoyed by many people, and whenever something is even close to halfway finished there are servants bringing replacements. Soon after the start of the festivities guards already have to break up a few drunkards, who have managed to drink themselves into a rage or a stupor in what is at most half an hour. Next to your group there is an old half-orc, tearing into some creature’s leg, and opposite him sits a young mermaid, who has a large bowl of water which she periodically dips her head into. She has been silent for now, but has started to sway, especially since the half-orc ‘accidentally’ spilled a tankard of mead into the water that she uses to breath. And she keeps taking more wine.

On your other side, closer to the main table, there is an elf, dressed in finery, who keeps casting spells on his food before taking exceptionally small bites. She is talking to the man opposite her, who is covered in tattoos and sits bare-chested, showing his muscles to all the world. He talks about being one of the sworn men of the jarl of Vastag, and the many times that he has fought for his lord’s honour. The elf constantly replies that it is very interesting.

Suddenly, the mermaid collapses into her bowl of water, not lifting her head anymore.

[Morcleon]

"Indeed. And after all, even if they figure out how the the forging process works, they'd still need to be able to forge the metal, which I assure you is nigh impossible outside of Darkforge." Hatsuyuki grins and opens her mouth to continue, but then snaps it shut as a few droplets of water splash across her face. She wipes them off with a napkin and frowns. "...let us continue this discussion at a later time, when partygoers are not falling into basins."

Standing up carefully, she makes her way over to the mermaid and lifts her head up, checking her pulse and muttering to herself. "Why do these things always happen near me..."

Heal check to see how to mermaid is doing: [roll0]

[Raunchel]

The mermaid has obviously passed out, probably because she had a bit too much alcohol. The half-orc keeps eating, not paying much attention to the poor mermaid. Her head hangs in the bassin, and is mostly hidden by her freely floating hair. The water isn't at all clear, filled with what looks like the mead, and the contents of her stomach.

On her other side there is a tall woman, who is in such animated conversation with her neighbour that she hasn't noticed a thing.

[Mechanix]

Heterion lets out a hearty chuckle at the sight of the mermaid swaying back and forth and finally falling into her bowl. At least one can count on such parties to deliver their own peculiar form of entertainment. Nonetheless, the half-giant is compassionate; he motions to someone to pass him fresh water and authoritatively pulls the unconscious mermaid out of her bowl, tossing the water... somewhere, probably in some empty dish or on the floor if nothing is found, and refills it, before letting the poor creature collapse in it again. Then he wipes his fingers off the mead and water.

"I guess that's as good a reminder as any for me to mind my drinking," he comments to no one in particular. "Say, where is our mermaid friend here from? Our empire is full of such wonderful people, you meet something new every day."

[Raunchel]

The mermaid is probably from one of the small realms that lie under the sea. Either Dampa, Misthun or Cavhat, because those are inhabited mostly by their kind.

Her dress bears the symbol of the princess of Cavhat, the northernmost of the three principalities. It is well-known for the quality of their pearls, of which she is wearing a rather fine string in her hair.

Something that isn't too well known about the merfolk is that they tend to get drunk quite easily, but they refuse to accept this.

The half-orc finally looks up from his meal: "Wot are you doin'?", he asks, rather aggressively.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker watches quietly as there is some commotion around the mermaid. He doesn't rise to join in, his skills being more geared towards the mechanical than the living. Besides, the others seemed to be handling her quite well enough. She was in no danger of drowning, so all that could be said is that they were saving her the embarrassment of floating in her own stomach contents. He knew that the merfolk were easily susceptible to the effects of alcohol, and she had clearly partaken too freely. He looked closely, and saw the symbol on her dress, that of the princess of her people. He found himself hoping that she was a servant of the princess, and not the princess herself, but he doubted it.

"She comes from Cavhat. It is the northernmost of the merfolk realms," he told Heterion at the other's question. He was slightly startled at the half-orc's aggressive demand. Without drawing attention to himself, he reached down below the table, slipping one hand into his belt pouch and the other gently touched the handle of the tentacled rod he wore on his belt. He watched silently to see how the larger members of the table handled the situation, prepared to step in to keep the peace if it was required.


=Knowledge:Geography (1d20+22)= 27

[Mechanix]

The half-orc finally looks up from his meal: "Wot are you doin'?", he asks, rather aggressively.

"Hmm? Oh, well, her water was dirty and had alcohol in it. I figured it would be kinder to change it so she doesn't feel too bad when she wakes up," Heterion answers, smiling broadly and seemingly oblivious to the half-orc's threatening tone. "I hope I'm not out of step, of course, but I know if I were in the same circumstance I would appreciate someone doing the same for me. It's the little things, you know. Cheers," he adds raising his mug.

[Morcleon]

Hatsuyuki nods her thanks to Heterion for the help in cleaning up the unconscious princess. "Not only that, but she's also a princess."

"And after all, a princess deserves to be clean, don't you think?" This last sentence is directed at the half-orc, and accompanied by a pointed stare and half smile. While not overtly confrontational, the black-clad countess' expression exudes a air of power and control.

[Thokk_Smash]

I like a good time as much as anyone, but can't they do it without making fools of themselves? Mab thinks to Ragoth privately. Seated on his shoulder, swinging her legs, she watches the surrounding revelry with amusement. Tag with Bolt had been fun, but Mab had wanted to eat.

For us mortals, drink lets us forget our worries and troubles. Life can be cruel--why subordinate ourselves to it every waking hour? Although, he continues, looking at the half-orc that seemed to have intentionally spiked the mermaid's bowl, Some do take it as an excuse to be cruel.

Ragoth continues to eat while keeping an eye on the situation. The countess and champion seem to have it well under control. He looks at the woman to the mermaid's side--does she have the same insignia on her clothing?

So sorry for the delay in posting! I'll be more prompt in the future, promise :smallredface:

[Raunchel]

The woman by the mermaid's side doesn't bear any symbols at all, and only glances at the situation, a look of disgust on her face. The drunk herself seems to stir a little, but remains underwater.

The half-orc hower seems to not take too kindly to the comments that have been directed towards him. He growls, a little more threat in his voice: "She's just a mermaid. They dun have a soul."

[Mechanix]

"Now that's just rude," Heterion says, shaking his head with a disappointed look. "I'm sure mermaids have just as fine a soul as you and I; and if they do not, it is no reason to dispise them for it nonetheless. I once knew a gentleman of great refinement who lacked a soul - a golem he was, born of the fire of the dwarven forges. It takes people of all kind to make an empire as rich and beautiful as ours. What could possibly move you to such prejudice, my good man?"

[Raunchel]

"You dun come from the Red Isles. You dun know wot the mermaids do. They hurt ma people before the empire. They're all evil.", the half-orc replies, glaring at the mermaid. A few bubbles reach the surface of her bowl, but she shows no other reactions yet.

[Morcleon]

Hatsuyuki rolls her eyes and gives the half-orc a dismissive stare. "Your races were in a war. They hurt you, but you also hurt them. Now that the Empire has united them, you need to learn to let go of the past."

"Also, mermaids, being living creatures, do in fact have souls."

[Mechanix]

"Words of wisdom. This is a moment of celebration and unity, not one of dissent and lingering on the evils of the past."

[Raunchel]

"They think they is better than us. They hate us. This was just a joke. Hur hur.", he replies, seemingly calming down a little.

[paradox26]

Understanding where the half-orc was from, The Toymaker came to better understand the reason for his aggression. He relaxed slightly, though he kept his hand on the handle of his tentacle rod, just in case the half-orc decided to try to foolishly attack either the mermaid or the group of people trying to calm the situation down. He was not skilled at talking to people, so he decided to remain silent, at least for the time being. He allowed the others to do the talking, and decided that he would join in only if he had something to contribute. He removed his other hand from his pouch, where he had been holding onto another of his inventions, a statue of a pair of lions which he could bring to life if needed. He was quite sure that bringing a pair of lions into being in the hall would have raised a ruckus, but it would surely have also been effective at dissuading the half-orc not to do anything foolish. But he decided that the group around him would be capable of doing that without the need for his lions.

[Morcleon]

Hatsuyuki nods and sighs a little. "Ah, racial superiority. As much as I'd like to think that it's gone away, it still rears its ugly head. Regardless of their attitude toward you, however, making their princess drunk is never a good idea."

She gives the princess in question a brief glance before heading back to her seat.

[Thokk_Smash]

Throughout the exchange, Ragoth had felt his temper begin to rise. He has a thing about souls, and the judgment of whether a mortal being has one or not. Especially when it is fairly common sense that mermaids must have souls; outsiders have souls, albeit ones that are totally entwined with their physical being, but they have souls nonetheless.

Still, the others seem to have this well in hand. However, he cannot help but add, Just remember, not everyone has your sense of humor. And the next person you try a joke on may not be a fragile little mermaid. He grins at the half-orc, pointed teeth obvious, before he takes another swig of his wine.

Looking with worry at the mermaid, Mab takes off from her perch and flies above the woman's head. She begins to sing softly, gathering the woman's hair onto her neck.

[Raunchel]

Being this close to the mermaid, Mab can hear that she is bubbling something into the water.

The half-orc meanwhile returns to his meal, mumbling something about people not getting an innocent joke. He however keeps glaring at the mermaid.

A few more servants arrive, replacing some of the already eaten dishes with new delights, and oddities. Like the baked eye of some gigantic beast.

[Morcleon]

Hatsuyuki stares curiously at the giant eyeball, but keeps tossing the occasional subtle glance toward the half-orc. She takes a part of the eyeball, biting down on it gingerly. Her face goes through a number of expressions. Apprehension, surprise, confusion, and finally delight. Wiping her mouth, she chuckles. "...that was quite the experience..."

[Thokk_Smash]

Mab gives the old half-orc a glare of her own, undaunted by their drastic size difference. She continues to stroke the mermaid's hair soothingly, and tries to hear what she is bubbling to herself.

Mab's Perception: [roll0]

Ragoth, for his part, just chuckles at the Countess' comment. If it tastes how it looks, I can imagine, he says before taking a bite of the strange, ocular delicacy. Oddly crunchy, somehow both savory and sweet--he takes another bite with more gusto. I was wrong. I could not imagine that at all. He laughs.

He leaves Mab to keep watch on the recovering mermaid, with a telepathic instruction to alert him if the half-orc starts any more antagonism. He turns his attention to the table to the other side, listening to the man boast and the woman reply with one ear. If nothing else, the man's boasts may turn out to be entertaining.

Knowledge (Nobility) just in case it comes into play: [roll1]

[Raunchel]

The man is currently boasting about his managing to cut down fifty trees in a single day, in a challenge with his best friends. All of them oaks at least a foot wide. He however seems to be slurring a little. The woman appears to be listening politely, saying things like: "Oh really?", and "Very interesting".

After some time the mermaid is actually moving again, and lifts her head from the bowl, looking rather confused.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker listened to the man's boasts with little interest. He was clearly a fool, and his feats, if true, would not take away from that fact. The Toymaker was confident that he could build a device to cut down twice as many trees if he so desired. But he had little interest in such widespread destruction for little gain. He instead turned his attention back to the mermaid. "Are you feeling better now, princess?" he asked in a gentle tone. He did not wish to startle her too badly. He was also curious as to what she was doing getting blind drunk at a formal state function.

[Raunchel]

The mermaid slowly turns her head to face the Toymaker, looking as though she might fall back into a stupor at any moment. "Ehr, I, I don't feel well. Not well at all. But no princess, just, blegh, a courtier. Ramene, that's, ugh, me."

[Morcleon]

Glancing over at the recently woken mermaid, Hatsuyuki frowns slightly. She looks at Ramene's clothing again and nods in understanding. "Ah, so that's why you have the princess' symbol... where is the princess, if I may ask?"

[Raunchel]

"Over there.", she points towards the main table, close to it you can see another mermaid, who looks a little more aware of her surroundings than this courtier. She suddenly slumps over towards you, her eyes wide open.

[Morcleon]

"Oh, I see. So you're-" Hatsuyuki pauses and sighs as the mermaid collapses. She gets up and walks over to her again, feeling her pulse while flicking her gaze briefly to the half-orc to see what his reaction is. "What now..."

Sense Motive on the half-orc: [roll0]

[paradox26]

The Toymaker was just about to introduce himself to the young mermaid when she slumped over. He quickly cast a cantrip to discover if there was magic at work in causing such a reaction. At the same time, he looked around in an attempt to see what could have caused a reaction other than magic, paying close attention to the half-orc in particular.


Casts Detect Magic

[Raunchel]

The half-orc starts laughing again at the misfortune of the mermaid opposite to him, but he seems only happy in the way of someone seeing a hated enemy suffer a misfortune, not that of being guilty of said misfortune. Ramene seems to suffer very badly from the alcohol, which wouldn't occur in most people that you've met. She also is surrounded by a series of magical auras, several of which cover her completely, but there also is one in her neck and another at her legs.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker said, "She is covered in several magical auras. I am not sure if any of them is causing this effect. It may be best if I try to dispel the magic on her, to see if one of the effects is the cause of her malaise. Most of the auras are likely protective, but there is an effect on her neck and one on her legs as well, either of which could be to blame." He starts casting a spell on the mermaid, hoping to remove the effects on her. He also continues to study the auras, hoping to get a better idea of what types of magic each might be.


Casts Dispel Magic.

[Raunchel]

The magic washes over Ramene, and all the visible auras shatter, breaking up into their component magic before fading from this world. Her legs start to shift, fusing together under her dress, and forming the tail of a fish. At the same time her hair seems to lose some of its luster, and she throws up again, even though nothing comes out. In her neck a previously empty patch of skin reveals a symbol, a triangle with a dot in the center, tattooed onto her in black ink.

[Nettlekid]

All around him people are festively chattering and dining, but Nyct is not among those who are delighting in the festivities. He has a noticeably small amount of food on his plate, largely due to his concern that he'd bit off more than he could chew. Although he was doing his best not to draw attention due to his anxiety, he accidentally met a gaze or two as his eyes darted down the length of the table and to those across from him. Who was here earnestly, if anyone? These people chatting, laughing, shoveling down meat and drink, were they blind to the threats surrounding them or were they themselves the threat, already playing the game? Nyct cursed himself for doing only cursory research regarding the identities of various foreign nobles and their subordinates, but resigned himself to admitting it would have done him no good. There were too many faces to put names to, and truthfully the people worth being worried about would be those who had kept themselves under the fold, and he wouldn't have heard of them anyway.

His friend Tully was taking up a seat and a half at the main banquet table, naive and cheerful as ever. Though Nyct was a little too far to read his lips, he could guess by the Duke's gesticulations that the food was a hit and Tully was being vocal about it. With every bite Nyct flinched, terrified that each dignitary would drop to the ground in a mass poisoning. The portly man was far too trusting, and these were people that neither of them had any reason to trust. It had been on Nyct's prodding that the pair of them had come here, but Nyct hadn't considered the possibility of being split up and leaving his ward undefended. Then again, of course, Tully wasn't entirely undefended. Next to impossible to notice to anyone seated there, Tully himself included, the shadow cast by the table under the candlelight was a little deeper and darker than most. Nyct had managed to squeeze into a seat no further than a hundred feet from the main banquet table, and instructed Eventide to guard Tully against any sudden assault. If need be, the living shadow would shove the fat man under the table in the blink of an eye, though Nyct hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Nyct froze in panic when the mermaid at the table behind him clattered into her bowl, and he calmed himself as he realized his hand was on his dagger, prepared to whip it out in reflex. For a moment he thought his fear of poisoning had come to pass, but upon observation of the following conversation it seemed like it was just drunkenness combined with racial tension. Well, that's nothing to really be relaxed about, but at least it's not life-threatening. Yet. Listening to conversation behind him, Nyct gives the impolite half-orc the ol' ocular patdown, as well as glancing to his belt, pockets, and fingertips to see if there was any hint of concoctions distinct from the somewhat splashed mead.

Perception check on the half-orc [roll0]
Sense Motive check on the half-orc [roll1]
Sense Motive check on anyone nearby. Is anyone trying too hard not to take notice of the shenanigans? Someone who maybe slipped something into the orc's drink which ended up in the mermaid's bowl? [roll2]

[Thokk_Smash]

Well, at least one of those spells was probably helping her to breathe, Ragoth says with the barest hint of sarcasm, though he does move closer to the mermaid when she begins to throw up again. He eyes the tattoo warily--was it a brand? A religious mark? He has no idea, but says to the woman, Are you alright, Ramene? Do you need more water?

[Raunchel]

The half-orc seems to be enjoying the sight, even though he tries to hide it now. But he is incompetent at it, showing his amusement, he after all got her to have some alcohol.

Ramene manages to groan: "Fresh water, please, ugh, want to, ugh, go. Why legs gone?". She then opens her eyes widely, and places a hand in her neck, covering the symbol. "Can't, ugh, walk. Go. Please?"

More people are watching now, seeing the scene unfold, but no one moves to help, they much prefer their food. Above the talking and the music you can hear the sound of winds blowing over the massive building, even though it was clear when you entered the hall.

[Nettlekid]

Nyct tapped his fingers against the table, having given up the pretense of eating entirely. He'd had a biscuit just the other day, his Sustaining Shadows kept him plenty full for now. But the clatter of the mermaid's increasing panic was beginning to try his patience, and he leaned back in his chair to address those sitting behind him - the party and surrounding guests.
"In the name of the Laughing Rogue, is none of you even the most rudimentary of divine spellcasters? A novice acolyte could help the woman in this case."
He reaches back to his table, using Umbral Hand if necessary to bring one of the large pitchers to his grasp and placing it in front of the mermaid to do with as she wishes. Briefly he considers using Unveil on her to rid her of her sickness and the effect of the alcohol, but decides against it. There may be a case where someone needs it more.
So far this has all seemed on the up-and-up. Even amid racial tensions there haven't been any open hostilities. So why do I feel so on edge? It's like the calm before the storm.
The whistle of strong winds pierced into his mind, louder even than the thousands of gossiping demi-nobles.
Literally, by the sound of it. That's odd. Not least of all because it didn't look like a storm, but I would have imagined that if they spent so much on a festival like this they'd pony up a few more coins to get a Cleric on hand to control the weather.
Curious now, Nyct closed his eyes and focused through the gemstone on his forehead, his Third Eye Sense, to transport his vision approximately 50 feet above the roof of the building and take a look outside.

[Raunchel]

Outside it is dark, you can't see any stars, but the lights of the city are there. Thousands upon thousands of little specks, joining together in a smear in the distance. All you can hear however are ever stronger winds, drowning all the sounds. Above you there is only the sky, with low-hanging dark clouds. You can see the roof, from above, and not from below like you did in the hall. The wooden construction seems free of anything, except for a pair of pigeons sitting on its nave.

[Thokk_Smash]

Do I look like a priest, little man? Ragoth asks with a raise of the brow. With a dismissive wave of a hand, he turns back to the mermaid. Intoxicated by the half-orc, having her very soul brought into question, and with her abjurations gone now she cannot even walk.

He feels a brush against his hair, and looks up to see Mab. C'mon, Raggy, help her. After all that she's been through, doesn't she deserve to sleep off the alcohol away from prying eyes?

Though outwardly he shows nothing, mentally he gives a sigh. The things I do for you, he thinks to his companion. Moving to stand with a grand sweep of his clothes, he gives the mermaid a smile. Let's get you back to your room. You have a pool there that you can rest in, right?

To the others at his table, he gives them a slight bow and a smile that approaches genuine. It was a pleasure to meet you all, and to share a table. May we meet again later during the conference.

Unless the mermaid objects, he picks her up in his arms and moves toward the exit doors. Mab flies with them, talking with and at Ramene as they walk to distract her from her discomfort. Perhaps once they are alone, he can ask her about the mark on her neck.

[Morcleon]

"Mermaids are amphibious. They can breathe perfectly well in air. A novice sage would know that." Hatsuyuki winks over at Nyct, a cheeky grin on her face. She waves to Ragoth and nods. "Indeed. And good luck with her."

Starting to walk back to her seat, the black-clad noble stops and stares back at the audience, then rolls her eyes. "What? It's over, nothing more to watch."

[Raunchel]

When Ragoth has picked up the rather light Ramane there is a terrible crashing noise of wood tearing and stones being crushed. Wooden bars from the ceiling snap and everything comes tubling down onto the hall below. Some of the candles are put out by the sudden inrush of the wind, but others merely fall, setting the cloth near them on fire, but this does not happen close to you.

From the vantage point of his vision Nyct can see the roof just breaking apart, as though some invisible force has crashed into it. And then he can see something most peculiar, tiles thrown into the air seem to not touch an area where the center of the roof would have been, bouncing off something.

So, things finally really begin.

Everyone please take a DC 15 Reflex save or take [roll0] damage (halved if passed) and if the save failed, you will be pinned under rubble. This will knock you prone and leave you stuck in place, but as a full-round action you can take a dc 20 strength check to break free. While trapped you suffer 1d6 nonlethal damage per minute, and of course, lose any dex bonus to ac and can't do anything requiring real mobility.

And Thokk_Smash, please roll a second one to prevent Ramane from being hit.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker managed to avoid the sudden fall of the roofing, dodging carefully as the pieces collapsed. He looked up and saw that there was a large flying creature at roof height in the middle of the room. He immediately cast a spell which he hoped would make the creature appear, so that it could be better fought. He had not anticipated that he would be getting into a fight tonight, but he was prepared for one now that it had happened. He decided that he would summon assistance after first trying to make the enemy visible, so that everyone present would be able to attack it more easily.

Casts Glitterdust on the area where he can make out the flying object.

[Morcleon]

Watching as the invisible beast crashed through the ceiling, Hatsuyuki's face stopped cold and her eyes narrowed. This was what she had feared. An attack upon those who would be at the coronation. And how better to disrupt it than prematurely, before the full force of the capital's guard could be brought to bear. The motive was still unclear. Perhaps an attack

The countess sighed softly, taking a deep breath and stepping up onto the table. With a snap of her fingers, a circular metal shield blossomed into being beside her and a long spear of midnight blue flashed into her hand. "Listen to me!" she shouted, her voice powerful and commanding, combining a sense of utter calm with an intense urgency. "Civilians, get away from the rubble! Guards, help anyone who's trapped and make sure they're safe! I'll handle the counterattack."

"...with some help, if you all would be willing?" She grinned at the Toymaker and those around her. "Let's see what this beastie can do, shall we?"

Knowledge (arcana) - What is that thing?: [roll0]
Knowledge (nobility) - Does anyone attending has powerful enough enemies to get an invisible two headed dragon thing to attack?: [roll1]

Hatsuyuki will enter Spiritual Weapon Stance, gaining +2d6 force damage on all attacks, ghost touch on weapons, and SR 23.

HP: 247/247
Saves: +19/+28/+22

Maneuvers Readied:
Unfettered Progression [BS]
Essence Shattering Strike [BS]
Black Seraph's Wrath [BS]
Phantom Penumbra [VM]
Armageddon Lance [BS]
Charge of the Ravager [BS]
Fade Through [VM]
Eclipsing Moon [VM]
Lunar Penumbra [VM]
Black Seraph Onslaught [BS]

[Thokk_Smash]

The second that the sound of splintering wood reaches his ears, Ragoth is already on the move. Sharp eyes spot the path of least resistance through the rubble and powerful muscles push him on that road. With a rush of apprehension, he sees that Mab is in the way of a particularly large deposit of debris. Without thinking he removes an arm from Ramene's tail and scoops Mab closer to him and on the path of avoidance. Unfortunately, that split-second decision loosened his grip on Ramene--the mermaid is struck by multiple debris, and is ripped from his grip as he reaches fruitlessly for her.

Ragoth, what did you do? Get her out! Mab screams in Ragoth's mind as Ragoth brings his shield to float in front of him. She's gonna be squished, you can't just let her die!

Would you rather be underneath that rubble, Mab? he demands, an unintended snarl to his mental voice. Between Ramene and Mab, he would choose his small familiar every damn time. If that thing runs amok then the rest of the place will be in trouble. She can last under there for a few minutes while we take care of this dragon, so please, help me protect them all.

Mab glares between the invisible dragon and Ragoth, clearly torn. Fine, she thinks, settling onto his shoulder as she draws out a glowing, heavenly luminescent rod.

Sighing his thanks, he sends his thoughts out to where he remembered his brother being. Nabal! Rally whoever's close to you and get out of the dining hall! This might just be the vanguard for a larger force.

To the countess and the group, he nods shortly. That creature's assault is an insult to us all; let us show it what Assam's best can do.

Now he turns to properly face the translucent, dual-headed dragon. It dares to intrude on this feast, where Goldoa's representative eats? And the other representatives as well? It needs to learn its place. You will not get the slightest chance at mercy, wyvern-spawn! he yells in draconic.

Ragoth's skin begins to glow with otherworldly runes as he raises his arm to the dragon. The unearthly power within him is stoked to greater heights as a ring of glowing acid circles his hand. With a gesture the acid flies at the gargantuan monstrosity, splattering against its hide and sizzling loudly as it sears flesh.

Biting back a grunt of pain from the use of his powerful blast, his cloak spreads like wings as he takes to the sky. He moves away from where Ramene is lying; if the dragon decides to use its fire breath, he doesn't want her to be caught in the crossfire.

Standard action: Hellfire Vitriolic Blast. I should be within 60ft on the diagonal. To-hit touch AC: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] and Vitriolic Blast ignores SR.

Move action: Fly to the side to get away from Ramene. Without a map I'm not sure exactly where to go, but he'll fly the full 30ft.

[Nettlekid]

I knew it! I knew this would go to pieces!...This isn't at all what I expected though. Nyct scowled to himself, snapping back to his own eyes and leaping from his chair to dodge the worst of the falling debris. He felt a little annoyed that he hadn't tried some of that good-looking food now. He hoped it had been poisoned, just to justify his actions.

"Alright people, battle stations. We need to get this under control," he said aloud, seemingly to no one. "Echo, take the Pit, get to Eventide. If it's holding the Pit it'll open, and it can put Tully into safety. We'll explain it to him later."
"Get to Eventide. We'll explain it to him later," a distorted voice repeated, seeming to come from Nyct's pocket. Something in equal parts shiny and hazy burst from the pocket, dragging a piece of black cloth behind it, and promptly vanished into the chaos of the falling debris and trampling feet. The Dark Mirror Mephit wasn't the most agile flier, but it was quick, and crossed beneath the dragon to the tables of the nobles.
"Eventide, I need you to interact with the corporeal world right now." Nyct demanded as barely more than a thought. With his order, the shadow at Tully's feet became just a little thicker and more substantial. While all were distracted with the few warriors now attacking the dragon outlined in glitter and burning in acidic hellfire, Echo dropped the cloth into the air. That thick shadow now rose up, likely surprising those at the table, and took the falling cloth in hand. Now in the grip of an Evil creature, the cloth opened up into the extradimensional space it hid, and Eventide positioned himself at the boundary of that space and the material plane. Echo looked on from a few feet above, hiding in plain sight.

Now then...who's not where they're supposed to be? I doubt this dragon is here alone. And more importantly, I doubt whoever sent it expects it to do the job on its own. Invisible or not, its not subtle. It's a distraction. Which means that while we're looking at it, there's somewhere we're not meant to be looking. I wonder where that is.
With a gesture and a word, Nyct's eyes began to shimmer with darkness, and he saw the world with greater clarity than before.
Now then, who do I see that I didn't see before?


Like I said in the OoC, I may be taking some liberties, so please tell me if these don't fly the way I want them to.

First, Echo the Dark Mirror Mephit who was within the Enveloping Pit in Nyct's pocket makes a double move to leave the Pit but grab it on the way out, fly less than 100 feet to the noble's table, and then drop the Pit (free action) 10 feet above Eventide. It will then make a Stealth check as part of its second Move action. [roll0] (taking a -5 penalty for moving at full speed)

Nyct uses his swift action to use Master's Bidding to force Eventide to Interact with Corporeal like an Unseen Servant. There's no description of this being a language-dependent ability, so I assume it's more like a psychic thing which works despite their distance.

Eventide the Shadow Elemental will rise straight up as part of its move action (Fly speed of 40 with Perfect maneuverability, its Fly check is high enough to automatically make the DC 20) and grab the falling Enveloping Pit. Since it was waiting for Echo to come over, it basically wasted its other actions.

Finally, Nyct is using his standard action to cast Truth Revealed, gaining True Seeing. His goal is to look at as large a space as he can (especially the noble's table and the dragon) and then turn it on, in case doing so reveals a hiding person who wasn't visible before and was using the dragon as a cover. Essentially he's playing a split-second Where's Waldo. To do so, he'll make a Perception check of [roll1]

[Raunchel]

The sparkling figure of a dragon becomes visible to all, towering above the ruined hall. It has two heads, with curved horns and long sharp teeth. A blast of acid strikes the monster, biting into the flesh. In reaction, one of the heads turns towards Ragoth, and the dragon's form ripples, showing hints of red before it loses visibility again. The beast growls: "Soo, the food likess to play? Well, we shall ssee how much it likess thiss."

A torrent of fire follows the words, flowing over the room, towards Ragoth and a few unfortunates who stand around him. They scream, caught by the flames that burn them within moments.

On the far side of the room Tully has almost been caught by the pit when the other head brings its attention there, lowering itself and letting another torrent flow forth, setting fire to the tables and dozens of innocents.

So, on the party's side, Ragoth must take a DC 31 reflex save for half against [roll0] damage. The rest of you are unaffected by the flames.

At the high table, Echo and Eventide must also take a DC 31 reflex save for [roll1] damage. Eventide may also make a second check, at DC 20, to allow him to at least cover Tully (and those around him) with the pit. Although, that of course may also catch fire.

[Morcleon]

Growling slowly under her breath, Hatsuyuki settled down into a low stance, an aura of mixed silver and black light surrounding her form. She stared directly at the dragon and smirked. "Oh, rest assured. In the end, you'll be the food."

Leaping into the air, she flashed through the distance between them, her spear exploding out from her grasp in a rapid series of stabs and slices.

Swift: Activate Deadly Strike against the dragon, using 1 ki point. All attacks against it deal +2d6 damage for 4 rounds.

Free: Activate Robilar's Gambit, granting all attacks against her +4 attack/damage, but provoking an AoO on each hit.

Full-round action: Use Charge of the Ravager to charge and full attack the dragon, dealing +2d6 damage. This charge does not provoke AoOs.
Attack 1: [roll0]
Damage 1: [roll1] + [roll2] piercing + [roll3] cold + [roll4] force

Attack 2: [roll5]
Damage 2: [roll6] + [roll7] piercing + [roll8] cold + [roll9] force

Attack 3: [roll10]
Damage 3: [roll11] + [roll12] piercing + [roll13] cold + [roll14] force

Attack 4: [roll15]
Damage 4: [roll16] + [roll17] piercing + [roll18] cold + [roll19] force

HP: 247/247
Ki: 11/12

Readied Maneuvers:
Unfettered Progression [BS]
Essence Shattering Strike [BS]
Black Seraph's Wrath [BS]
Phantom Penumbra [VM]
Armageddon Lance [BS]
Charge of the Ravager [BS]
Fade Through [VM]
Eclipsing Moon [VM]
Lunar Penumbra [VM]
Black Seraph Onslaught [BS]

[Thokk_Smash]

Ragoth twists and rushes into the oncoming rush of fire, burrowing into an area of the flames that is weaker than the others. He grits his teeth as the fire washes over him. It burns badly, but his training has made him inured to the worst of the flames' danger.

When we're done with you, you'll regret the day you hatched, Ragoth growls as he flies closer to the dragon. He draws a scroll of Greater Blink as he flies closer to the dragon. Opening the scroll, he carefully casts the spell.

Concentration check vs DC 25: [roll0]

It was a move action to within 15ft of the dragon, so just within its reach. The plan was to take a 5ft step next turn, but it would've been nice to have Greater Blink up.

Ragoth stumbles over the scroll, and snarls in frustration. Perched safely within his haversack, Mab takes out a small baton and hands it to him.

Mab's move action: draw Eternal Wand of Lesser Celerity and pass it to Ragoth.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker saw the chaos erupt around him, and toyed with the idea of assisting those in danger. He immediately rejected the idea, however, since his efforts would be better spent trying to destroy the dragon they were facing. After all, the dragon could deal damage much faster than he could rescue innocents, and the dragon would have to be taken down quickly, lest the entire building be destroyed, along with everyone in it. He was able to figure that the dragon was a red, judging by its fiery breath. So he decided to use an attack which he knew was most likely to be effective against such a dragon. He made a series of arcane gestures, muttering words of power as he did so, then threw his hand out in the direction of the dragon. A blast of cold came forth from his hand and struck out at the dragon.


Cone of Cold for a base 68 points of damage.

[Nettlekid]

Nyct had seen time slow to a standstill as the dragon roared and launched a jet of flame at the noble table, but Eventide's quick action prevented the worst of the damage and Tully was still alive. He had bought a few seconds at least, but Echo had been discorporated and with him Nyct's best aerial agent. Nyct watched the wave of icy energy and a fast-moving blade artist took point to strike the beast despite its size. If memory served, dragons aren't able to breathe fire too many times, too quickly. Well, one-headed dragons. This one...maybe two heads made it breathe twice as fast? Or breathing with two heads would drain its reserves twice as fast? What a nightmare. Then again, this dragon was...proud? It had used one head to roast the noble's table, but it had focused half of its firepower on the Warlock who had struck it. Now that it was suffering attacks from all sides, maybe it would be a little distracted?

Echo was gone, but Nyct still had Eventide at his advantage. With a gesture he initiated a simple spell to put him where Eventide hovered, and the spell simply broke in the air.
What?! It's...The room is dimensionally sealed. I could have sworn it was open, but the dragon must have done something to change it. Or someone else pulling strings.
He'd wasted some time trying to teleport, but he could still provide some cover. But first off all, he needed muscle on Tully's side.
"Eventide, steel yourself. I need you to remain vigilant. You're my eyes back there, and yours are better than many."
Eventide's shadows become tougher and tighter, despite his incorporeality. Resisting physical damage, he'd be able to lash out and take any hit of an invisible threat looming at the noble's table. He hovers back to the floor, just behind Tully.

Eventide rolls Perception [roll0]. He does have Blindsight, so that Percpetion is really for the sake of Darkstalker but also in case there's just something up. He's going to AoO anyone who comes within range who seems to be acting hostile, and use his Immediate action to swap places with Tully if Tully's attacked, ideally taking Tully out of range of future attacks.

Nyct prays that Eventide can handle things, but he's going to put the noble's table out of sight and mind. Triggering his Belt of Battle, he gains another chance at action as his reflexes speed up. He casts a glance at a spot a little more than halfway to the noble's table, and the shadows beneath the rubble begin to thicken. A wall of darkness rises between them, unanchored to the ground. Hopefully blocking the dragon's line of sight will limit its attacks against the nobility, but most of all the icy wall of darkness will deter it from passing through and reduce the impact of its fiery attacks.

Using Curtain of Darkness. I don't think it needs to be anchored to the ground, so it's centered 30 feet in the air, halfway between the dragon and the noble's table (is that about 40 feet from the noble's table?) It's 18 10-foot squares to work with, so that's a four-wide by three-tall rectangle with an extra one sticking out the sides and an extra two each on the top and bottom. If that makes sense? As much of just a wall as possible. Anything passing through the wall takes 15d6 cold damage, and hopefully that includes the fire breath.

[Raunchel]

The dragon roars as it is struck by the cold, and one blow finds a way past its thick scales, biting deep into the dragon's flesh. The dragon's form again flickers, and now becomes fully visible. It is a massive beast, two heads, and skin as red as fire. It appears to be female, and cruel eyes look at all of those who have attacked her.

And the dragon lashes out, seeking to bring down the Sylph who hurt her, while one of the heads roars arcane words. Flames come to life between the others who have attacked her. They roar in their power, and the dragon's eyes glint as her tail lashes over the floor, shattering bones and crushing bodies.

One of the heads uses fireball against the gathered party, meaning the Toymaker, Ragoth and Nyct. This is [roll0] fire damage, reflex dc 18 for half.

Hatsayuki has to take a dc 31 will save for frightful presence, and she gets to face an (almost) full attack.

Bite: [roll1], damage: [roll2]
Claws: [roll3], damage: [roll4], and [roll5] fire damage.
Claws: [roll6], damage: [roll7], and [roll8] fire damage.
Claws: [roll9], damage: [roll10], and [roll11] fire damage.
Claws: [roll12], damage: [roll13], and [roll14] fire damage.
Claws: [roll15], damage: [roll16], and [roll17] fire damage.
Claws: [roll18], damage: [roll19], and [roll20] fire damage.
Claws: [roll21], damage: [roll22], and [roll23] fire damage.
Claws: [roll24], damage: [roll25], and [roll26] fire damage.
Wings: [roll27], damage: [roll28], and [roll29] fire damage.
Wings: [roll30], damage: [roll31], and [roll32] fire damage.


IGNORE THESE PLEASE. I AM STUPID.Wings: [roll33], damage: [roll34], and [roll35] fire damage.
Wings: [roll36], damage: [roll37], and [roll38] fire damage.
Wings: [roll39], damage: [roll40], and [roll41] fire damage.
Wings: [roll42], damage: [roll43], and [roll44] fire damage.
Wings: [roll45], damage: [roll46], and [roll47] fire damage.
Wings: [roll48], damage: [roll49], and [roll50] fire damage.

[paradox26]

The Toymaker took the full brunt of the fiery blast, and he felt his clothing crackling about his person. He suppressed a cry of pain, unused to harm as he was. He glanced around to see what the others nearby were doing. He saw that they all had their own plans in place, and the chaos that this was causing would hopefully cause the dragon to divide its attentions. Unfortunately, this did not help much when facing a dragon with two heads, since it could obviously divide its attacks at will, thus managing to engage freely with virtually the entire group. The Toymaker toyed with moving away from his new companions, to reduce his juiciness as a target, since he on his own was less likely to be attacked. But he rejected this plan, since the presence of the others would also reduce the severity of attacks that he did receive. Hopefully the dragon head which breathed fire would continue to focus on his small group, since it would be unable to breathe fire again for some time. Therefore, he would be better off staying with the others so that they may take the attacks that head might make. Of course, if the heads swapped targets, all bets were off. The Toymaker stretched out his hand and murmured a few words of power. His spell was designed to draw the moisture out of the dragon, which would hopefully not be immune to such an attack.


Deals 70 points of damage with a Horrid Wilting spell. He also failed his Reflex save.

[Thokk_Smash]

The fireball explodes, but Ragoth is able to dodge the worst of the blast--the rest of the flames wash onto his skin and leave faint scorch marks. Those flames are nothing, he growls. Let me show you true fire.

He floats slightly closer to the dragon, clicking his heels together to make his body move faster. Focusing his concentration, he incants one of his most powerful invocations. Acidic eldritch energy forms and coalesces around his hands, and lengthens to form a wicked-looking weapon. With another roar of fury, the weapon becomes engulfed in furious hellfire. In a blinding flash, he lashes out at the dragon, digging deep into its scaled hide.

Five-foot step closer to the dragon--you can take a 5-foot step along with a full attack.
Free action: Activate Boots of Speed.

Casting Hellfire Vitriolic Eldritch Glaive defensively vs DC 27: [roll0]

Full attack Hellfire Vitriolic Eldritch Glaive vs touch AC, +1 to-hit from Boots of Speed.

[roll1]
[roll2] + [roll3] acid damage over the next 4 rounds

[roll4]
[roll5] + [roll6] acid damage over the next 4 rounds

[roll7]
[roll8] + [roll9] acid damage over the next 4 rounds

[roll10]
[roll11] + [roll12] acid damage over the next 4 rounds

AC: 38 due to boots

[Nettlekid]

Nyct yelps, jumping over the spread of the fireball and stamping out the flames. He dodged the brunt of it, but it wasn't an ideal place for him to be.
Alright, I've done just about all I can for Tully, now I need to get myself to safety. Hmm, but first...
Nyct's eyes linger on the dragon's garb, the bling it's flashing that couldn't possibly just be adornment. The most unusual thing was the odd golden plate behind each dragon head. He'd try that first. Smirking, he sent the shadows of his Umbral Hand snaking into the dragon's shadow, then up between its scales.
"Quicker Than The Eye," he whispers to himself, and the shadows shudder before racing over the dragon's neck and aiming to untie and otherwise remove the plates. While his shadows went to work, Nyct himself moved twenty feet closer to the now-obscured noble's table, as quickly as he could while wading through the nuisance of broken wood and trying to keep himself hidden.


Standard action to use Quicker Than The Eye, an Su ability for me. Grants +15 to Sleight of Hand and lets me use it through my Umbral Hand.

Two Sleight of Hand checks as Free actions, [roll0] and [roll1].
If the plates are magical each does get a Will save (DC 15) to negate Umbral Hand. I believe they use their own save, 2+1/2 CL, not that of their owner? But someone call me out if that's wrong.

Move action to move my speed, 40 feet halved, toward the noble's table. I'll also make a Stealth during that, taking -5 on each due to the speed. I do have Hide in Plain Sight.
[roll2]

[Raunchel]

The great dragon roars with both heads as she is again struck by blows and spells, until Ragoth's acidic blade bites deep into the beast, passing by scales and biting through muscle, and more importantly, thick blood vessels. The dragon's blood gushes out in a sudden shock, narrowly passing by the warlock and painting the ground red. There is a look of surprise in the yellow eyes, before she drops, close to death an incapable of further resistance.

I added it all up, and your heal checks reveal that she is dying.

[Thokk_Smash]

Ragoth flourishes his blade of eldritch power as the white-hot power dissipates. The roar bubbles up from his belly, and he releases it in a bellow of triumph over the inferior dragon.

Mab, we will look to Ramene soon, he says to his friend. We must learn how and why this dragon came to attack the conference. Heal her enough to keep her from dying immediately, please.

Mab looks at Ragoth with uncertain eyes before nodding. His inhuman actions must have unsettled her a bit. Ever since his bonding with her, he has been careful not to let his draconic ancestry take over too much. He suppresses a grimace and flies down to the dragon. Mab flies down to place a small hand onto the dragon's neck, healing her slightly.

Can she heal for the minimum damage for CLW? If so, she heals the dragon 4.

Placing his boot onto the dragon's neck, he growls in draconic, ~You have been bested, thoroughly and totally. By rights, your life and all you hold are mine to claim. Tell me why you attacked the conference, and who hired you, and I will show you a kindness and end your suffering. I may even be persuaded to ensure your body is not defiled for your scales after you die. Defy me, and I will give you a closer inspection of the fires of hell.~ Eldritch energy coalesces around his hand, a precursor to the energy that had just felled her. With a hiss of concentration, the energy glows white as he brings it closer to the dragon's eye, hinting at what will happen should she not speak.

Intimidate for: [roll0] + any circumstance bonuses you feel could come from the situation.

[Raunchel]

The dragon is clearly in a lot of pain as she growls: "Spare my life and you will know everything. "

At that same moment there is a flash of silver from behind you, followed by the distinctive plop of a teleportation. Right between the two necks a small dagger with a wet red ribbon tied to it pierces the draconic flesh. Blackness spreads from the woundnl, and the dragon tries to speak: "Watch the tides, they're coming. Distrust the water. Her name...", she falls silent, the blackness has reached the heads.

[Nettlekid]

"Well...that happened. Truthfully, I don't feel all that sorry for her. Murder dozens of people and try to murder hundreds more? Those few aren't going to step in to help. I think that blade teleported in, so there's no one to find." Nyct paces around the dragon, looking the dagger over and then picking it up with his Umbral Hand (try again and again until the magic item fails the save) and using his Artificer's Monocle with Mystic Reflections to Identify it.

"Hey, do we have a Cleric in attendance? Or like fifty? We need some healing over here! We have many injured, and a few piles of ash that probably won't object to a Resurrection spell and have the diamonds to back it up. And apart from that, if anyone can Speak With Dead, I think this dragon had a few more things it wanted to say. Chop chop people, you're civil servants and you're back on the job!"

[Thokk_Smash]

Ragoth breathes out a hiss of frustration. The blade had deprived them of valuable information, although they do now have something resembling a lead to go off of. She got off easily, he rumbles to the smaller man as he observes the dagger. There must be a scrying sensor someplace, for them to know to off her. And that wetness around the ribbon--perhaps it was teleported from the sea.

Raggy, go help Ramene, now! Mab commands in Ragoth's mind, pushing his head in irritation. You promised!

Ragoth turns to glare at her, and she gives as good as he gives. I was going to, Mab, he thinks, mental voice equally laced with irritation. Go find my brother and tell him what the dragon said. We need as many people watching the shores as we can, now.

With one last huff, Mab nods and flies in the general direction Nabal had been before. Sighing, Ragoth puts on an innocuous smile as he flies to where Ramene is crying out. No need to worry, Ramene. I'll have you out of there in a jiffy, he says, voice seamlessly kind where it was once full of inhuman rage. Calling out to any guards for help, he begins to move the rubble from on top of Ramene and free the poor mermaid. Tell me about yourself, Ramene. You must be high up on the courier list if you're here with the princess, he grunts, wanting to distract the mermaid from her predicament.

Taking 20 on the Strength check for 25.