The Suspicious Ship IC

[emeraldstreak]

http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/the-world-of-nyrondie/images/b/b2/Gnomish_Laboratory.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20151205203419






...Pain. The color of pain is white, you remember. You realize these are your first thoughts in...a very, very long time.

The whiteness of the pain now fades, to be replaced by...lack of pain...by pitch black coldness that engulfs you.

And then a bluish flame flickers in the nothingness and pulls you like a moth to a midnight candle.


Up close, the flame is a raging pillar of bluish inferno. The nothingness around...inverts, somehow, and is no more; it is replaced by a room, in its center a complex contraption of metal and glass encases the blue flame and your immaterial consciousness.

You sense...exits. Several of them. You head into one - but which exactly?


Roll 1d20+Int modifier

PS. If you need help calculating your Int modifier or anything else related to our system, let me know.



OOC thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?514598-The-Suspicious-Ship-OOC)

[Vánagandr]

I head towards an exit that catches my interest.

[roll0]

[emeraldstreak]

Highest Int check chooses 'host' first, then second highest, etc.



You sense...receptacles. You only "see" them as shadowy silhouettes.

One is old and frail.

One strong, yet wracked by a red spot of dull pain.

One smaller, shiftier.

One supple, yet beset by sickly green.

One brutish and vigorous.

And finally, one that is different. Not a shadow, but chiseled blocks of thick darkness. You determine it is far stronger than the rest, a fortress, but also a prison between the one inside and the world.

[Tacitus]

[roll0]

I'll hold off on any IC text until we get an order for selection.

[Yas392]

[roll0]

I prolly take the one remaining because of my poor roll. Freaking Nat 1. :(

[Ieagleroar]

Int Roll: [roll0]
Guess who's choosing second to last.

[questionmark]

1d20-1
here's hoping for something good!

[questionmark]

...lets try that again.

[roll0]

[emeraldstreak]

* snip snip *

[Vánagandr]

After looking the shadows over, I settle on making the brutish and vigorous one my receptacle.

If y.t. rolls higher and wants the same, then I'll take the one that is strong, yet wracked by a red spot of dull pain.

[emeraldstreak]

Tacitus

You dive into the blocks of solid, chiseled darkness. Inside, you find glowing red lines bursting with energy. Akin to rails, you - somehow - align yourself to them. The rails pull you deeper, into a red-hot furnace of a heart...

[questionmark]

The pain I sense in the strong one could be dangerous, and I don't know what the green in the supple one could be. I'll play it safe and grab the shifty one.

[Ieagleroar]

I look over the remain exits. Frial, greened, pained. I head into the old.

[Yas392]

Two shadow remains. One supple, one strong. I dive into the body of the sickly green.

[emeraldstreak]

You open your eyes. A spacious room surrounds the blue bonfire contraption. One side of the room is lined with high windows letting in the afternoon rays of the sun. You also see high buildings rising, most of them towers of various styles.

On the other side the room, shelves occupied by small trophies and mementos line the walls. A solid desk is flanked by two well-dressed gentlemen, one a Walrusman, the other a Dogman of terrier stock. The two of them eye you expectantly.

There are six of you. A muscle-bound Orc with leathery beige skin wearing a simple white toga, sandals, and a heavy iron chain around his thick neck. Next to him, a similarly dressed but otherwise very different dark green Goblin of small stature. An old, white-haired Human lady holds a walking cane and is dressed in a purple overcoat and a lavender dress, her attire a feminine version of the fashion style of the two gentlemen.

Behind the three, a Clay Golem rises, its automaton physique easily dwarfing everyone in the room. Its eyes sparkle with animating presence.

Two still remain on the floor - more exactly on a elaborate but slightly frayed carpet. One is a comely young Human woman in a simple yellow sundress, wearing wooden bracelets on her wrists. The other one is a middle-aged Human man with a stubble, clad in leather armor and wearing a long dagger on his belt.

"Bonjour," greets the Walrusman. "My dearest newest employees, how do feel on the luckiest day of your afterlife? Oh, I know, I know, you must be thirsty - there," he gestures to a table with glasses and two pristine carafes filled with sparkling water to the brim. "Help yourselves, for we have much to discuss."

[emeraldstreak]

In this exact moment, the young woman also opens eyes and stands up.

[emeraldstreak]

"Esteemed Mr. Rebate, will you take over?" the Walrusman turns to the Dogman. The latter puts down his monocle before speaking to you in a higher-pitched voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you are heroes. Or at least, you were once. And then you died, embarking on the great journey of reincarnation we all are destined to endure."

"By the will of the Golden City's ruling Council, we took the liberty to summon your ghosts from the Mountains of Pain and inhabit you in these bodies of...um...volunteers, so that your heroism once again serves civilization."



The Mountains of Pain are the penultimate step in the reincarnation cycle of all sentient souls. A desolate wasteland of sharp rock, they shred all memories of the ghostly souls traversing them.

[emeraldstreak]

While the Dogman talks, you realize there are remnants of profound knowledge within your tortured souls.

You realize you are still dead, what happened to you is not Resurrection, a miracle only the legends speak of. It's not even a reincarnation, your path through the cycle severed. It's ghostly possession, and exorcism or the death of your hosts will send you back to the bluish vortex.



All but the Golem gain Detect Magic as at will spell-like ability



Mr. Rebate nods, as if expecting your realization at this point.

"The Golden City is the greatest city in the world, a metropolis of untold opportunity and wealth."

"Its commerce and its freedom of movement are its lifeblood."

"But sometimes movement carries threats, threats that would do much damage if they are to infiltrate in the city undetected and fester."

"So the city relies on first line agents to intercept such threats. Finding, detecting, alarming is the key here. You are not necessarily expected to defeat the threat. Quite the opposite, prepare to lose your host bodies now and then - your soul will fly back here and the city will be alarmed to deploy its vast arsenal against the threat you detected, and you will be rewarded."

The Walrusman intercedes, slightly worried "Still though, try not to lose your hosts. Good hosts cost a fortune, and even bad ones strain our thin margins."

[Tacitus]

The Prison shifts slightly, head tilting to one side and then the other as it hunches its massive shoulders and slowly lowers its gaze to look over its hands. It flexes sculpted fingers and turns its hand over to look at the palm first and then back to examine the back of the hand, fascinated by the way the clay shifts with every moments. At the mention of water it brings its hand up to its face to examine it as it tries to open a mouth if it has one and if capable speak, "Thirsty? Don't remember thirsty. Am I thirsty? White to black to blue, very confused. You talk too fast."

Soft, hard, or fired clay? I've never been quite clear on whether clay golems are written as fired, hard, or soft. Doesn't change much, of course, its just a details thing for when I'm writing.
I'm assuming the golem does not have earthly needs as food/drink and so would not be thirsty.
Can it speak? Normally 3.5 clay golems cannot.

[emeraldstreak]

This one is made of fired clay and is masterfully shaped to look like a suit of full armor.

You can talk and your mental faculty isn't impaired at all. You gain all Construct traits unless they relate to your Int, Wis, Cha - those remain a function of your soul inhabiting the golem. The golem's shell, however, isn't conductive to your innate magic, so you won't be expressing the magic your teammates will (while in the golem).

You gain the Golem's stats (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/golem.htm) with the following exceptions:

Your Will is 4+Wis mod

Your Ref is 4+the golem's Dex mod (in other words, 1 higher than the statblock)

Your attacks/grapple are at -4 due to lower BAB

[emeraldstreak]

Your names: up to you if you remember them, or choose new ones

Your nature: consider yourselves heroic arcane casters; you don't remember your previous race or past. You haven't regained yet any other ability but Detect Magic.

Roleplay: feel free to interject in the scene

[emeraldstreak]

Tacitus

The golem's body doesn't feel thirsty. Mr. Rebate replies to you "We realize it is a lot to process - even on a sunny afternoon. We are proud to be able to provide you this Clay Golem under the City's grant program for new Frontline Agencies."

The Walrusman adds, "You see, everything in this city is outsourced to private businesses. It's part of the Golden City's formula to global success. We are the Enterprising Walrusman Ltd."

[Yas392]

The green human woman, looks down at her hand, closes and open her palms before facing her "benefactors."

You got a mirror?

[questionmark]

the Goblin has been quiet up to this point, eyeing his surroundings with equal parts wary suspicion and extreme confusion before eventually shrugging and pouring himself a drink from the carafe. As he does so, he casts measured looks around at his new coworkers, doing what he can to take their measure.

"So we've been stuffed into volunteers to be the canaries to this 'Golden City''s coal mine? That's one hell of a job."

He empties his glass, then looks at it thoughtfully, turning it around in his hand. He notices his reflection in the glass and seems to wince slightly.

"I'm guessing it's too much to hope for that you guys have something a little stronger than water?"

[emeraldstreak]

Yas

Indeed there is a mirror on one of the doors of a lacquered wardrobe nestled between two shelves of mementos.


questionmark

"Of course! We are on the top floor of the Enterprising Walrusman Inn, and prior to settling in the city I used to sail the world as a merchant."

"But there's this one tiny problem. You...your body is licensed to us under special requirements by the White Faith, the most powerful church in the world."

"One of their many requirements is to not give you alcohol, or any other...'entertaining product'."

"Well, I guess we can make one little exception, if everyone keeps mum..."

The Walrusman opens a compartment filled with dozens of bottles of exquisite spirits. "Heartsea Wine? Dourland whiskey? Or - ice rice sake?"


You can ask about the White Faith, the Heartsea, Dourland, or the land ice rice comes from.

[emeraldstreak]

The young woman isn't visibly green in the material world.

She (so you) does have fever, though. Your joints hurt too.

[Vánagandr]

The Orc stretches while listening to his new employers' explanation of his current situation. Having had little time for his mind to adjust, he finds most of it going over his head. However, he does understand the meaning behind the Goblin's words. "So how long will you keep us here?" The Orc then quickly drinks some water, having found speaking quite difficult due to the dryness of his mouth.

[emeraldstreak]

"As shortly as possible, actually. Time is money." The Walrusman muses.

"Your next step is to have your horoscopes done and your Rings attuned at a nearby Emporium Arcana."

"Then you can get on with our first task."

"Remember, though - do not cause trouble in the city, nor try to escape farther than a hundred miles from the Summoning Beacon."




Perhaps you died a long time ago, or perhaps this part of your memories was already shredded, but names like the Golden City don't speak to you.

"Rings" however does. You remember them - an ancient way to focus magic perhaps predating all currently living races.

Without Rings, the rare few sentient beings who are either fonts of magic, or master manipulators of the currents, or chosen of the Gods are little more than prestidigitators.

[questionmark]

the Goblin seems to rally a bit at the mention of the drinks.

"The whisky sounds good. Not sure I like the sound of anywhere called the Dourlands, but whisky's never lead me wrong. Or at least, if it did I don't remember it anymore."

"Also, what counts as 'causing trouble' around here? Different places have different laws."

[Tacitus]

The Prison grinds one fingers against a thumb of his sculpted body, fine dust drifting down from the contact as he studies the finely crafted plates and faux-rivets that give the appearance of holding his body together. His gaze returns to the dog- and walrus-man, "We are expected to serve. How deeply are we indebted for this? If I must spend millennia inside this Prison I might well desire death over servitude. Cassius is no man's slave."

[Ieagleroar]

Upon entering the exit, a strange sensation washes over the being; and extreme desire to... to... to knit? And bake cookies? The old woman stands up, slowly, and she leans on her cane as she digests the information she had been told. She guesses that the new employers, would explain more about the task at hand later. However, she couldn't shake these weird cravings. Quick quesshun about - she stopped short. She couldn't remember much about her past life, practically nothing actually, but she was sure she didn't talk like this.
Think Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies
Quick quesshun about these bodies. Ah feel weird. Will that done sort itself out?

[emeraldstreak]

the Goblin seems to rally a bit at the mention of the drinks.

"The whisky sounds good. Not sure I like the sound of anywhere called the Dourlands, but whisky's never lead me wrong. Or at least, if it did I don't remember it anymore."

"Also, what counts as 'causing trouble' around here? Different places have different laws."

"Dourland - the name is exaggerated. It's one of the reclaimed lands along the Great River, a rural region of hot summers and bitter winters," the Walrusman elaborates.

"The laws of the Golden City take a lifetime to study, gruffly speaks Mr. Rebate.

Still, here's my advice.

Don't steal or engage in violence.

Get permits before buying weapons that are restricted - that would be anything more dangerous than a dagger. However, our Agency license gives us some leeway...as well as permission to buy Rings. I will tell you more at the Emporium."


The Prison grinds one fingers against a thumb of his sculpted body, fine dust drifting down from the contact as he studies the finely crafted plates and faux-rivets that give the appearance of holding his body together. His gaze returns to the dog- and walrus-man, "We are expected to serve. How deeply are we indebted for this? If I must spend millennia inside this Prison I might well desire death over servitude. Cassius is no man's slave."

"Slavery? No, slavery is forbidden in the Golden City. As employees, you have salaries and also receive stock options on successful missions."

"But if that's not enough, the law requires me to release you back to the ghostly Plane of the Dead." the Walrusman is explaining before Mr. Rebate interjects

"Actually, the law is more complicated. Generally, ghosts summoned for one-time service don't fall under the ban for slavery - nor do any other one-time summons. However, we hope to work with you in the future."


Upon entering the exit, a strange sensation washes over the being; and extreme desire to... to... to knit? And bake cookies? The old woman stands up, slowly, and she leans on her cane as she digests the information she had been told. She guesses that the new employers, would explain more about the task at hand later. However, she couldn't shake these weird cravings. Quick quesshun about - she stopped short. She couldn't remember much about her past life, practically nothing actually, but she was sure she didn't talk like this.
Think Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies
Quick quesshun about these bodies. Ah feel weird. Will that done sort itself out?

"You should regain your full powers within the hour - but without Rings that won't mean much.

Any last questions before we head to the Emporium?

Oh, and be warned. All the Frontline Agencies in the city are rivals...Some may try to place a banana peel right under your step."



The golem already has stats. For the rest of you, Ill post your HD-derived hp/saves/BAB and host Str/Dex/Con on the way to the Emporium. Choosing your Rings at the Emporium will determine spells/feats and similar. Your skills don't directly depend on your Rings, but usually it is a good idea to decide on a Ring before selecting skills.


PS - if someone hasn't noticed, we do have an OOC thread - linked in the first IC post.

[Vánagandr]

The Orc, his mind finally feeling a bit more settled in its new home, looks himself over for the first time. He thinks that he doesn't mind the look of it much. In fact, he feels pretty good about the situation overall. For a moment. Then it hits him, an important piece of himself is missing. "A name. What was my name or his? Either or both. I'd like to know."

[Ieagleroar]

Well let's a get a'goin then; I ain't got all day! You want me ta take up an die on ya before we get there? As the soul got more comfortable being in his -well, it thought it used to be a 'his'- new body, he realized that perhaps this body's feelings weren't so bad. Perhaps it could even become enjoyable. And if he lost it, he just try out his other one with the same enthusiasm; although everyone else seems unaffected by their new shell, maybe this one wasn't dead for very long or something. At any rate, that would have to be dealt with when it came, for now it seemed like they had work to do.

[Yas392]

The human woman steps forward but loses her balance, collapsing to the ground. Her face is scrunched in pain as she twists her body and looks up to her employers.

As much as I want to enjoy the splendors of the living, you should tell us WHOSE body we are currently possessing, background and such. This body that I am inhabiting is a bit weaker than the others. I hope this fever is not permanent and curable.

[emeraldstreak]

"Sick? The little minx tricked us, Rebate!"

"Calm down, my friend."

"The owners of the bodies are very much alive...their souls are right here, in the blue vortex."

"Most 'bodies' used by the agencies volunteer interested in the payout for a single mission...it isn't much, but people that have hit hard times risk it. Perhaps that was the reason the young woman came to us - and hid her illness."

"The Orc and the Goblin aren't exactly volunteers. Their races are deemed inherently malicious, and the White Faith puts geas on their souls - making them docile."

"There's some controversy about risking their lives in the Agencies, but the Faith still lends out limited numbers."

Mr. Rebate shuffles through the documents on the desk, before declaring: "The White Faith names not, but the Orc number is listed as KYN-505."

[Tacitus]

The right hand flexes, a fine grit falling from his fist as The Prison looks down for a moment and then shakes its head, "A fine choice, employment or death. Regardless, let us move onward. What of this construct? Was it built for this purpose or is it too on loan? Would I even be able to make use of any rings in such a form? Feel free to walk and talk."

[emeraldstreak]

Mr. Rebate puts back his monocle and takes a look at the golem.

"This one appears to have been created in the late Imperium, but is also well-preserved.

It probably spent centuries in a vault in the ruins of the old Imperial capital," the Dogman points a finger down.

The Walrusman adds, "Normally the Council demands a renting fee for the golems, but this one is free for our first mission. While golems bar you from using your magic, they are quite powerful...just don't let their elemental nature overpower your will in battle."


Meanwhile, Mr. Rebate picks up some of the documents on the desk, then opens an exit out of the room. Two little Human children dart towards you, asking for their daddy. Their mother scolds them from outside the room, then enters calmly. The Walrusman engages her.

"I am sorry, Missus. The heroic spirits have not yet chosen your man as a vessel. If they don't do so by sundown, he will return to you - but with no payment."


You pass by them and follow the Dogman down ornate wooden stairs, then through a cheerfully noisy and crowded inn room, before going outside.

The afternoon air of the Golden City carries the unmistakable smell of the sea. Which is not a surprise: the Golden City is situated on the confluence of Rivers Grey and Great, the Heartsea, and the Mistral Sea; Mr. Rebate tells you. He is unable to continue, though, because a small group of picketers gets in your way.

"Slavers! Shame!" the protesters yell. Rotten cabbage is thrown at the Dogman gentleman, and he scurries behind the Golem.

"Orcs and goblins are human too! Set them free at once!" the picketers chant at you, while Mr. Rebate keeps a low profile and curses, "Goddamn wackos and Chaos worshipers!"

[emeraldstreak]

Your souls: HD 4 for most effects, BAB +4, Ref 4+Dex mod, Will 4+Wis mod; Int/Wis/Cha per your rolls

Orc: Str 18, Dex 10, Con 14, hp 40, Fort +4
Goblin Str 11, Dex 17, Con 12, hp 28, Fort +1
Granny Str 6, Dex 8, Con 7, hp 16, Fort -1
Woman Str 10, Dex 8/15, Con 10, hp 24, Fort +0

The young woman has suffered 7 Dexterity damage. She will recover 1 in the morning, but also make a Fort test for her illness - and potentially take more Dex damage.

These are not necessarily your final stats, as Rings of certain types can modify them.

[questionmark]

The Drinker casts a wary look at the crowd. When he speaks, it's under his breath -- he's not interested in further drawing the picketers' attention.

"Just my luck I'd pick a body that mobs are paying attention to."

He turns to Rebate.

"Are these 'wackos' particularly common within the city?"

[Vánagandr]

"Hmm, I can work with that." The Orc says mostly to himself as he tries to avoid the angry stares of the protesters. "Kyn. Like a blade. That will do nicely for this body. Or for me I should say. So, these rings? Are they only for enhancing our arcane skills?"

[emeraldstreak]

He turns to Rebate.

"Are these 'wackos' particularly common within the city?"

"Thankfully, no. But they've been increasing."


"Hmm, I can work with that." The Orc says mostly to himself as he tries to avoid the angry stares of the protesters. "Kyn. Like a blade. That will do nicely for this body. Or for me I should say. So, these rings? Are they only for enhancing our arcane skills?"

At last you leave the mob behind. It turns out the Golden City features just as many canals as highways. As you cross an alabaster bridge you look down its canal, towards the city center. In the distance, you see en enormous white temple rising. The only other building of such grand stature is a dark tower rising miles away to the west and south, its uppermost part is formed like a black hand reaching for the sky itself.

You reach the Emporium. Its entrance is guarded by two giants in golden full armor and purple capes, wielding massive golden axes. You enter and see a dozen or so Dogmen and Dogwomen working among long shelves of jewels and arcane gadgets. One invites you to determine your horoscopes...

[emeraldstreak]

setting info: Rings

Each of you can innately manipulate the magic of this world. Rings, however, give focus to this power making it far more useful especially in combat.

The magic in the world is split in six big 'schools'. Each of you can only channel one of them (see below for descriptions).

You can attune as many as 10 Rings (but the Enterprising Walrusman Ltd can only afford 1 of the cheapest kind for each of you, not counting the golem).

The lowest tier of the Rings is the Earth tier. They give the following:

One spell from level 1 or 2 as at-will spell-like ability (CL 4)
1/day spell from level 3 or 4, it recharges at sundown for Black and Spirit magic, and at sunrise for the other four schools (CL 8).
One stance and one maneuver from level 1 or 2 from the Tome of Battle (ignore number of maneuvers known requirements).
A few minor powers roughly equivalent to feats.

Given time, you can change the spells within a Ring with other spells from your school.

Schools of Existence
Chaos - the elements: fire, earth, water, air; creativity, freedom, rebellion
Nature - the natural world, growth, mutation, efficiency
Spirit - the senses and illusion, the soul and the mind, the Plane of the Dead

Schools of Direction
White Magic - creation, progress, peace, unity
Black Magic - destruction, corruption, war, egoism
Fate Magic - stasis, predestination, obedience


Choose a school to your tastes!


Horoscopes: only a ring forged on your birthday will ever work for you. To determine your birthday, roll 1d13 and 1d28



Yas' character: 13th of Sagittarius
The Drinker: 2nd of Scorpio
Kyn: 16th of Capricorn
The Prison: 8th of Capricorn
Granny: 24th of Pisces

[Yas392]

What is my birth date? Let the dice show me.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[questionmark]

here's hoping for a holiday:
[roll0]
[roll1]
Edit: apparently the Drinker has cancer.

[Vánagandr]

Let's see something cool.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Tacitus]

Though I'll not be able to benefit from rings, I'll roll now and note it on the sheet I'm building
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Ieagleroar]

[roll0]
[roll1]
Granny will give the month and the day, but you'll never find out the year. If you ask, she's 21.:smalltongue:

I'll suppose I'll take one of them there Spirit rings. I full of Spirit ya know.

[emeraldstreak]

I'll suppose I'll take one of them there Spirit rings. I full of Spirit ya know.

Mr. Rebate, not all too happily, signs on 3995 guldens per month payments for the next two years. In exchange, you receive a simple band of woven copper.


Gain 'Mind over Body' and use your highest mental stat instead of Con for hit points. Gain Improved Initiative. Gain Improved Counterspell.

Choose a stance and a maneuver from levels 1-2 of Diamond Mind and/or Shadow Hand.

Choose a spell from levels 1-2 Illusion or Enchantment, or a mental-y psionic power from levels 1-2, or a universal/abjuration spell that deals with detecting or countering magic for your at-will.

Then do the same from levels 3-4 for your 1/day, recharge at sundown power.

[emeraldstreak]

Pick 8 skills as your trained class skills. Trained modifier is +7.

[Vánagandr]

Kyn looks through all the options available to him. He quickly makes his decision based on the fact that he's likely to find himself in "life" or "death" situations because of his new job. "I'll take a ring of Black Magic. If it's not too much trouble."

[questionmark]

The Drinker closes his eyes and rubs his chin, thinking hard. His current concern was surviving (and, if he could manage it, thriving) in an unfamiliar and by the sound of things dangerous environment. The choice seemed obvious.

"Think I'll take a ring of nature."

[Yas392]

The young woman lean against a wall for support.

I abstain from deciding until my fever is removed. I cannot think without a clear head. You have magic that rectify this?

[emeraldstreak]

The more 'civilized' side of Black Magic is about personal success without regard for others; or perhaps with some regard for those dearest to you, but no regard for your community/society.

Its other side is pure entropy, the corruption, destruction, and death of the Universe itself.


Any spells causing injury or destruction - and not being overly elemental in nature - are appropriate. Negative/entropy energy is particularly appropriate.

So are spells that cause fear, have the Evil descriptor, summon evil outsiders, or improve weapon stats in non-elemental ways.

Appropriate martial schools include Devoted Spirit (only the more evil-sounding), Iron Heart, Shadow Hand.

Feat-wise, Evil feats are obviously appropriate, but so are many others depending on concept.

Black Magic also includes War-related themes - like simply being excellent at killing things.




Spells/psionics of physical transformation, healing (physical stats only), growth, boosting physical stats, utilizing animal and plant aid are appropriate.

Feat-wise, anywhere between Toughness and Troll Blooded is a possibility, but the latter will cost more. Flat increases to physical stats are a possibility too.

Maneuver schools: Tiger Claw, Stone Dragon

[emeraldstreak]

The young woman lean against a wall for support.

I abstain from deciding until my fever is removed. I cannot think without a clear head. You have magic that rectify this?



roll Sense Motive

[Yas392]

What for?

[roll0]

[emeraldstreak]

What for?

[roll0]



None of the salespeople pay attention to your words. You realize this city is rather cold when it comes to helping strangers. After all, why else would a young woman enlist her body for semi-certain death in exchange for a meager payout? The Golden City is a shining lure, but it chews and spits out all but the most tenacious of newcomers.

[Tacitus]

Standing back from the others as rings will do him no good at all, he rumbles to his companions, "If someone has the intent to make use of the Chaos ring, I would request some form of spell to create acid for healing of this body. I ask not for a repair spell of White because it would limit the utility of these Rings, but some consideration would be appreciated, as I will no doubt be forefront in most dangerous situations."

[Yas392]

Fine then be that way. Cold-hearted jerks. Now, gimme the white one.

Once she received her ring, she coughs, splitting some phlegm on to the floor though it was accidental because of her illness.

Of all the good we are going to be doing for the city. I am starting to lose interest. If my attention isn't still vested into this gung-ho, you bet your money that I will gladly detach myself from the material plane.

[Ieagleroar]

As Granny holds the Spirit ring, she feels heartier... shiftier... more complete. Yes, this was the ring for her. Anxious to try the new ring before she kicked the bucket, she turns to Mr. Rebate. Now that me an' the youngin's have gotten these here fancy rings, what ya have us doin' now?

[emeraldstreak]

"Your first mission is a routine check of a long distance explorer's ship.

Her last expedition were lands in the evermist of the far South, those are lands rich with ruins of the Destined Races predating Humankind."


ooc: you still need to choose spells and skills

[Yas392]

As the young woman wears the ring, her eyes become wide as if experiencing epiphany. She closes her eyes and mutters a spell. After a short while, her breathing becomes regular and color returns to a healthy pink from pale as she process information from her employer. (If I need to roll anything or this needs to be changed, I will edit this part).

That's great if you could armed us with some weapons and armors other than these rings. In case you haven't notice, all of us are unarmed. I hope that you are not confident with us having only one source of mean we can rely on. Even in a scouting mission, we might get ambushed.

[Vánagandr]

"Yes, some proper equipment might be useful. Good thinking." Kyn gives a thumbs up to the young woman and then puts his own ring on. After a few moments, he sighs. "I wish I could say that this ring doesn't suit me afteral, but it's definitely the right one. At least I'll be able to make it useful to us."