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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Mornings's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2014
    Location
    Outside

    Default Morning's Shatter Star (IC)



    It was cold...
    The fell wind carried with it a shrill-and-sobering air. You felt it run through you, and a
    prodding sense of foreboding hung in your mind. Like some sinister omen borne by the ill-fated.
    But you were no seer, no prophet, or oracle. You quickly dispelled the notion, it was nonsense.
    For it was a day to celebrate! The Society had not only summoned you for your first true mission,
    but the very founder and Venture-captain of the sole Varisian-branch of the Society had addressed
    the letter to you personally. This was the stroke-of-fortune you had waited for.

    Spoiler: The Summons (Image)
    Show



    The Magnimarian's ( Viridi/Jeska/ Alica/ Avaricious)-----------------------------------------------
    The roar and chatter of life and the city, roiled and passed about you, like the intangible
    lapping of waves upon your ears. People of every color and walk of life traveled about the
    winding stone streets. Men of every height and faith from lands unknown, many of which were
    armed and armored. Baring colorful flags and tabards of family and city. It was busy, even for
    the city this day. Many had traveled here over the past few weeks, noble and mercenary alike,
    to compete in The Summit.

    You followed the ebb-and-flow of the crowd making your way east along the avenue of Lord Mayer's
    March. It's marble tiles, were clean, neat, and new. Such a far-cry from the destruction that had
    decimated this vary road not so long ago. Most had agreed they should change the name of the avenue
    being that the position of Lord Mayor no longer existed, but Lord D'Aritel spoke against it. Reasoning that
    it should remain, to serve as a reminder of their history, and that which once was. It was a strange and
    haunting remnant of the civil-war. As were the dots of sparkling new buildings from Naos and the Capital
    District's western half that flanked the avenue.

    The Pathfinder Lodge was located in the Alabaster District of the city, the easternmost burrow one could
    find. Populated by all of the nobles houses and sites of great importance, to include The House of Lords.
    The court of the city, overseen by representatives of The Council Lords, the position created after the fall
    of the autocracy.

    A small group of Korvosan Knights passed by eyeing you suspiciously. The relations between Magnimar and Korvosa had improved under Lord D'Aritel's rule and guidance, but the fierce competition between the two cities was still quite alive and well. At the very least, it was no longer a rivalry born of bloodshed, and as such, the city had been permitted to attend The Summit. Using such festivities had become an important factor in maintaining peaceful relations, but there was still conflicts within the populace.

    It was quite a long walk, but at last you neared The Junction, formerly known as the Starsilver Plaza. The crossing between The Avenue of Hours and Lord Mayors March. It created a wide a open space where The Capital District, The Alabaster District and Naos all collided in a strange explosion and mix of livelihoods and cultures.
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The Ancient (Asiresh) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The travel had been long and grueling. Traversing the Lost Coast Road was the simplest leg of the trip.
    The massive walls could be seen for miles and the distant enchanting view of the Irespan, the massive
    stone Thassilonian bridge-like relic, added a strange sense of wonderment to the view. Even for you.
    You had traveled with extreme haste to reach the gates of Magnimar. A strange supernatural storm had
    been hot on your heels for days. Even now you could see the strange clouds whip and churn in the distance
    carrying a strange and malignant wind.

    Spoiler: The Storm (Image)
    Show


    The strange clouds seemed to distort the light. For here all seemed well.
    The noon-day sun hung in the sky without a care in the world.


    You Hobbled along with 'staff' in hand, like a three-legged mule. Your old bones wept
    in pain at the load of goods you carried. A large series of encampments on either-side
    of the road. Hundreds of men and women, warriors abound, talked and mingled.
    Clever merchants dipped and marched through the numbers hawking wares.
    A less educated man might think the city in siege or war with the vastness
    of the fighters displayed. But you knew better. Men of all walks of life had gathered
    here to compete in The Summit, from local villages to wandering swordsmen and
    nobles. The inns were overflowing no doubt, and many had chosen to camp just out
    side the city. Close to The Alabaster District where the action would be seen.

    You drew many a strange glance. For your appearance and attire was strange and
    foreign even once surrounded by foreigners. You waved off a guard who volunteered
    to assist you with your burden as you made your way through the gate. Then paused...

    The wave of life and movement hit you as surely a mace might. It took your breath
    away. The marble streets, the well fashioned white stone of the walls and buildings.
    The swathe of people. It disturbed you to be surrounded by so many...creatures. But
    the view was surely astonishing, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you.

    You had been to Magnimar twice in the past. The first time, long, long ago was with
    Aviresh your Mentor and Master, before his death. The city had not even been constructed
    yet. There was no buildings, no life. It was just ancient ruins of remarkable nature. The second
    time you had come. Was with your only, and last friend Jaroosh... before you put an arrow
    through his heart. The city was new and still too young to really be called a 'city'. It was but
    a town amid ruins. You issued a small chuckle. The City of Monuments they call it, yet you
    were older then even this place. A living relic...
    The city was just over a hundred years old...

    You pressed on. You did not know the streets, but you knew this land. Drempt of it, even.
    Dreaming of one day returning here to relive some long forgotten memory of joy of the man
    that betrayed you and the Master who was slain. You smiled, tightly grasping the letter in your
    pocket. This hunt, was truly blessed by Ketephys.

    Even should you fall, you could think of no better place to die.
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The Pathfinders (All)
    The Junction was a wide circular marble floored social artery of eastern Magnimar.
    It stretched, at it's widest point, 250 ft across when heading north along the Avenue of Hours.
    It was not exactly a circle, but it had close to 200ft in circumference standing at it's very center.
    Merchants selling all manner of wares had stalls scattered about. It was a strange and exotic place.
    The Regal flavor of The Alabaster District. The Lawful do-goods and shrewd business men, and the
    colorful cultural diversity of Naos all met here, in this one small space of the city. You could find
    men of almost any profession or skill-set lurking about. Artists, musicians, warriors, legalmen, lords,
    outcasts, assassins, wizards, merchants, and men of the cloth all converging. Directly at the corner
    where the Alabaster District began, and touched The Junction sat the House of Lords. At the corner
    of Naos lay the Triodea the most significant cultural site in the city in terms of music and play.
    And at the corner of The Capital District lay all manner of fine and peerless artisans of various forge-works.

    You stood at the corner of Naos, directly in front of massive 110ft wide marble theater.
    A crowd was beginning to gather, you knew why. You had heard the rumors, but you had not
    traveled to the Triodea or The Junction for that matter in some time. But you were aware of the
    rising celebrity that was The Lady of Morning. Apparently she played and sung in front of the Triodea
    most days of the week. You had hoped to not encounter her, for the rumors that clung to her name
    was somewhat haunting, which fueled her popularity. Whisperings of her prophetic music, and how
    she never preformed the same song more then once. Regardless if all this was true or not, it was true,
    that she had been arrested once or twice on suspicion of murder. On account of a song foretelling the
    death of one of her listeners. After this unnamed individual was indeed found slain in similar fashion to
    The Lady's song, she was taken into custody. Lacking any evidence the charges were dropped, and her
    fame skyrocketed. An oracle of song? a seer of music? It was the general opinion of the Society and
    official orders of the city to not endorse this would-be-seer, who may indeed prove to be a murdering
    musician. You pressed on, you were not short on time, for there was no dead-line. But The Lodge sat
    directly on the other-side of The House of Lords.

    Weaving and bobbing through the massive crowd was a dangerous thing, or at-least, it had been.
    Killers, pickpockets, thieves, and just general nay-er-do-wells had, once-upon-a-time. Dwelt within
    the circle of the surge of people in The Junction, using it as an opportunity to rob, assault, or generally
    accost tourists and those who didn't know better. But that was in the past. You cut through the crowd
    easily enough.

    At it's center stood an armed and armored women. A stout sentinel sheathed in Numerian-steel and
    regal attire. Her eyes were calm, cold-jeweled-beads-of-sapphire that swiftly cut through the crowd.
    Picking them apart of every detail. Stopping to rest on one strange old-man who cut through The Junction.
    The crowd provided her a wide birth of 30 ft or so. She held a naked long sword in her hands, it's tip resting
    upon the marble tiles. The ground at her feet was a rough and frozen sheet of ice. Wisps of dancing-misty-
    frost-matter wove and intertwined about her hands and sword. The proud tabard of Magnimar secured on her
    garb. You knew who she was. Her frost-forged siccatite sword was legend. The hero of the Battle of Grobaras.
    Alice Ira D'Aritel, The Knight of Luminescence.
    Spoiler: Alice D'Aritel (Image)
    Show


    She was the only daughter of High-Lord D'Aritel, Lord of Magnimar.
    With the ruling of the city being now, somewhat monarchical, Alice D'Aritel was not a mere Knight of steel and sword. She was Heir to the crown. The 'Warrior Princess of the People', the chant goes. Her word and sovereign right was questioned by none. She was a women of unparalleled principle and might. Remembered and capitalized upon by those who remembered her valiance during the last moments of the Coup d'etat.

    The former-Lord Mayor Haldmeer Grobaras. With his back to the wall, attempted to burn the city to the ground, rather then relinquish it to his 'usurpers'. Lady D'Aritel possessing the only free unit, fought valiantly saving The eastern Capital District and The Alabaster District from the Mayor's mad scheme. Parts of the city were destroyed, but through fire and assault Lady Alice and her men prevented a single civilian life from being lost. An act no Magnimarian will forget.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The rule of The D'Aritel House was a strong and noble one. A stark contrast to the terrible corruption that had plagued the city since Haldmeer Grobaras was made Lord-Mayer. They lead the city with an unflinching will to do justice and crush the last pockets of depravity still lurking within the city's official office. Now all matters of state were overseen or guided by those who carried the trust of the D'Aritel House, with power slowly and carefully being redistributed to the people under a weary eye. The new House of Lords, a newly created office only a few years old, once again allowed noble lords to hold court within the physical 'House of Lords'. It also allowed noble families the ability to hold general cases of appeals from the public. However, the new office of the House of Sovereigns was instated as the primary ruling body of legal maters, overseen by Lord D'Aritel himself. The positions were filled by public vote. Those elected becoming House-Lords, and received a suitable noble title if none were possessed. The notion outraged most noble houses who has helped take Magnimar from the Mayor, but the support of the general public drowned such concerns away. It was a system that forced the noble lords to use their limited power within The House of Lords to do good by the people to remain a House-Lord and their status. A cleverly devised system, which appeared to be working towards leading the city to heights and glory unseen for many years.
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    The 'Steel Princess' nodded sternly in acknowledgment as you made your way towards The House of Lords, but suddenly the churning crowd stopped. Stopping So abruptly, you nearly fell into the strange folk surrounding you.
    All eyes seemed to be drawn behind you, towards the Triodea. You turn to see the theater doors have opened.
    A large and lavish animated chair marches out of the darkness to the theaters foyer. A women leisurely strolled out of the dim interior, her head rolled back to the sky in careless thought. She dragged her feet on the ground as if she was too tired to walk properly, then plopped down in the deeply cushioned chair rather inelegantly. The noon-sun struck her pale-polished skin and cast an enchanting aura about her. Her distant deep aqua hued gaze seemed to glow faintly and scanned the crowd as if half awake. Her silver hair was neat and well cared for, and an assortment of platinum jewelry and finery hung from here white gown in a shameless-ostentatious-manner.
    She carried a strange eerie-yet-unearthly beauty. She raised her hand and smiled at the gathering crowd. An overly lavished mandolin of white-birch and Perl was placed into her hand by some unseen attendant.
    A bizarre silence gripped the air.

    If there was ever a time to walk freely amid the plaza this was it.
    You could easily make your way unhindered to the Heidmarch Manor; the Society Headquarters, or perhaps....
    Spoiler: The Lady of Morning (Image)
    Show


    Spoiler: Magnimar Key (Big Image)
    Show

    MAP KEY
    [1 SQUARE = 100 FEET]

    *Location #12 - Heidmarch Manor; Pathfinder Society HQ
    *Location #13 - The House of Lords; Current legal-office of Magnimar's Court and The House of Sovereigns
    *Location #34 - The Triodea; Theater in Naos, important cultural icon after the destruction of Starsliver Plaza
    *Black Diamonds - Current encampments of various warriors and soldiers awaiting The Summit.
    *Black-Red Square - Current Location



    Spoiler: The Summit
    Show

    The Steel Summit was originally a tournament of arms open to the public for a simple fee. The Summit was created by Sheila Heidmarch as a small gathering which would call forth locals of Varisia to compete for a sizable Victor's-purse. The idea was endorsed by the Society as a means of recruiting and raising awareness in the new region which the chapter had been raised.

    The tournament was a resounding success. Warriors from abroad came to compete, tales of the might of many of the combatants who fought spread wide. An unquestionable contest of martial prowess before an unbiased audience. The coming year formal requests were sent from other lands willing to challenge Varisian warriors in the tourney. Pride far outweighed the purse. The stakes were raised again and again each year. Cities desired to compete to display not only superior quality warriors, but military might. A common trend emerged of small units of elite warriors escorting a single competitor for no other purpose but to display their exceptional soldiers.

    Over time it mutated into something else entirely. It was not a festival, or a simple tournament. It was a gallery of military might. An opportunity for many city-states to safely display their strength to one another in a sanitized environment. The duty of hosting The Summit was passed on to Lord D'Arital with the oversight of the Society. As the best way to maintain their neutrality.

    The annual event had become an important time for many of the cities.
    During this period, a great number of advancements between the relations of
    many leaders had been made, and notions of peace forged.

    The importance of The Steel Summit could not be overstated.


    Spoiler: Actions/Options (OOC)
    Show
    All PC's are within 50ft of each other
    within the square marked. As are a sizable number of other people.
    Feel free to interact, harass, etc. As you like. Major options are;

    ~ Remain in the Plaza: See what happens.
    ~ Go to the Lodge
    ~ Whatever you make up and put behind Door Number 3

    As a note, the AP begins once you reach Heidmarch Manor.
    You aren't pressed for time, but you know where you need to be
    so that you can begin your 'successful' career as a Pathfinder.

  2. - Top - End - #2
    Titan in the Playground
    Join Date
    Feb 2010

    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Viridi

    Finding himself immersed in a crowd much more dense than usual, the Numerian-born Kellid grunts in annoyance as he has to force his way through the crowd. In spite of the scowl on his face saying otherwise, Viridi was in fact enjoying the journey through the busy streets. Though the road was packed, it took little effort to part the sea of bodies before him enough to pass through, and any who began to speak up about his less than pleasant passing were quickly silenced at the sight of his sword. Of more interest were that such crowds brought plenty of lovely sights for him to rest his eyes upon, ranging from a number of foreigners in the crowd, to locals he'd never seen, including one rather buxom red-head some ways distant, and even the Knight of Luminescence standing alone with her magical blade.

    It is on this last that his gaze lingers however. Lady Alice Ira D'Aritel, the woman that Viridi had decided to surpass and make his own, always stood out to him even when she wasn't being given so wide a berth by the crowd. Images of what he could do flood Viridi's mind, dreams of challenging her to a duel then and there, of rending through her armor and their struggle of steel turning into one of flesh there in the street, it is only with effort that Viridi returns to the present in time to notice the arrival of the so-called 'seer' Triodea.

    He'd never given much thought to the stories of Triodea. Seeing the future was a useful talent, but not one he cared for personally. Her beauty, on the other hand, was not something Viridi had heard of previously. Even with the Knight of Luminescence standing before him, Viridi found it difficult to look away from Triodea.

    The silence of the crowd, hushed by the arrival of the seer, was alien to Viridi. He'd grown up in Magnimar, and had never heard such silence from a gathering of this size. Strange as it was, it made him curious. Deciding that it was not quite yet time to make Alice aware of his existence, he looked back at the lady knight once more while silently vowing to one day see her stand just like that but as naked as the sword in her hand. His oath made, the brute of a man pushed his way through the stilled crowd toward Triodea, intending to move so that he is the closest one to the seer when she speaks. Fake or not, she has the people's attention. And even if her visions are not real, her looks must be.

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show

    There was just so much setup, I don't know how to respond to it all. Ultimately though, I had to choose between Alice and Triodea, but I think I'll hold off on speaking to the former until Viridi has done something impressive in game. Also, my apologies if it was a bit vulgar, just wanted to get his thought process across a little bit.
    Lilith Avatar by AsteriskAmp

    Other Character Avatars
    Spoiler
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    . . . . . .
    Setsuna by Kymme | Desril by Wolfshonor | Eruvia (no background) by Oneris

  3. - Top - End - #3
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    The Mad Hatter's Avatar

    Join Date
    Sep 2011
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    Elsewhere.
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    Male

    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Avaricious:

    A slim figure could be seen at the front of a fairly decent sized covered wagon, a team of donkeys leading the way forward. The man was experienced with traffic, having spent most of his life either on the streets or in the wagon. Still, the city seemed a little bit more congested than usual, and Avaricious rather worried that he'd be late to his meeting with Ms. Whatever-Her-Name-Was. To be perfectly honest, he was a little bit unnerved by the fact that he'd be working with the Pathfinder Society. So many capable fighters and warriors, all of them easily ten times as strong as the slim, five foot seven wagon-rider. However, he put his worries in the back of his head with all the rest of the stress and just attempts to enjoy the day. So, he begins to hum as the wagon makes it's way through the streets, tapping the small wooden board beneath his feet, humming a little bit even as the citizens around him came a little too close to the dhampir. It was true, the warmth of nearby travelers could prove to sometimes be quite uncomfortable for the less-than-completely-living, but for this particular dhampir had learned to hide his discomfort after many long years spent with the living. After all, you could hardly get on someone's good side by acting like they repulse you, even though the bard found most of the living sweaty and foul smelling. Still, he hides his inner unease well, his thin lips drawn together in a subtle smile, his dark shades hiding his eyes from not only the sun's harsh rays, but the populace.

    He bites his lip for a second, ceasing to hum and breathing in deeply, settling his nerves. What was he doing stressing about some society clerk? Today was a day to celebrate, not worry! He'd finally be able to pay off the cutthroats he'd been in debt to, and in doing so get himself back on track, back to focusing on his priorities, what really mattered. Still, he wouldn't take back what he'd had done, not in a thousand ages! Still, something wasn't quite right. Avaricious takes the occasional glance around, smirking as he witnessed the men and women in tabards pass by, clutching flags into the air as if their life depended on it! Who were they fooling with there bright colors and house emblems? Did the honestly think loyalties mattered? That the houses and noblemen they pledged their lives to really cared about the lives of such small, insignificant people? Fools! Fools, the lot of them, thinking that a title and a shiny bit of metal strapped onto their fleshy little bodies really meant anything in the end. No... In the end there was only power, and coin, neither of which the footsoldiers in even the shiniest plate mail could ever even hope to possess. Pah. Avaricious never could understand those who'd put their lives at stake for some fat, foppish old man they'd likely never meet in the first place!

    Still, he's distracted from his thoughts as the bard's eye darts to the flashing armor of several Korvosan Knights, the loud clank of their armor rather disruptive as they march past him, their closeness to the wagon forcing the man takes his time to look away. The last thing he wanted now was to be recognized by some whelp with a big sword and balls enough to approach the dhampir. He had nothing to worry about, most likely, but he'd hardly have gone as long as he has without being caught if he wasn't careful about the little things, no matter how paranoid his efforts may seem to others. As the knights fade behind the wagon, the man gazes towards a few others as the wagon made it's way closer and closer to The Junction. Here comes a baker, there goes a blacksmith, that one's a priest. All of them good, decent, law-abiding folks, surely. Singing to their gods on days of prayer, begging for the gifts they'll send. Hah! What a bunch of buffoons! As far as Avaricious was concerned, praying to little stone figurines was as pointless as asking a large, particularly mossy boulder for gold. Where were the gods when his life fell apart? Where were the gods when the Inquisitors came... Upon the mere thought of the word, "Inquisitor", Avaricious is reminded once more of the torches, shining in the night, the glint of a steel blade... He could feel it, he could feel the fire, the warmth... a blazing inferno in front of him, he could here them! The screams, the horribly, agonizin-

    BIRD.

    Oh, a bird. A bird distracted the bard as it flew by, the little grey thing cooing and fluttering loud enough to pull him away from his dark reminiscence. Looking forward, the small man saw it, The Junction! Finally! Time does fly when you're deep in thought, it seems. He takes some extra time to find a decently sized alleyway, before parking the wagon within and jumping off the seat in front. He'll pat the donkey closest to him before whistling once more, sliding across the wall to get to the back of the wagon. From there, he'll make sure both of his chests are locked, and that everything valuable is stuffed into the chests. This was a nice part of Magnimar, but you could never be too careful. He grabs his crossbow from the back as well, along with a few kits. Pulling a mirror out of a nearby cloth, he'll flash it over himself for a bit, whistling quietly as he looks over himself, dabbing his thumb with spit before wiping a smudge of dirt off his noble's clothing. The colors are faded now, on it, and the sleeves are a little bit worn. However, it still fit him quite well, the muted colors of blue, gold, and red matching the muted hue of his pale skin, and stark white hair. With a squint of his eye, he finally decides upon a final article of clothing, reaching for the feathered tricorn cap he was so fond of wearing, before setting it on the top of his head. His hair looked a bit greasy, and it would do well not to look too undignified. He didn't want anyone to think he was some common vagrant, the ex-nobleman still had a bit of pride left yet.

    With that done, he'll walk out of the alleway, ruffling his blue tailed overcoat as he walks into the cold. He'll look over to the Triodea, glancing fondly towards it as he recognizes a few of the musicians standing about outside. He would frequently come around the place and perform under a stage name, with a bit of makeup on. It was a good way to make money, but he still had no intention of letting any of them know who he really was, or what he really looked like. Magnimar was his closest thing to a base of operation, so particularly public cons weren't possible, but that hardly meant he didn't try the occasional pickpocketing or false palm reading. Speaking of, the man snaps his fingers! He'd almost forgotten! With a quiet word and a little wiggle of his hands, he pats his clothing once over, using his weak magic of prestidigitation to clean up the suit. There, good as new! "You look beautiful, Avy", the man thought to himself before smiling and bobbing his head pleasantly. "Thank you, Avy", the man replied to himself in his head. Did he really just give himself a pep talk in his own head? Why, yes, that he did, and it was hardly an unusual thing for him to do nowadays, being the loner he is. Everyone needed a little bit of encouragement every once in a while, and with no one to tell him he was handsome, or kind, or good anymore, he eventually learned to just do it himself. It was... unhealthy, but it worked.

    Then, his lip curls in disgust as he looks over the crowd gathered just at the marble theatre, no doubt there to cheer for that Lady of Morning. That was her name, yes? Lady of Morning... Avaricious ponders over the many different ways to make an "M" sound, while simultaneously thinking over the Lady and her supposed powers. He'd have to meet her soon enough, yes? Right? Maybe, hmm. Decisions! The man did want to listen in on a performance or two, but at the same time he hardly wanted to be seen by many people right now. He felt so naked without his makeup on, so bare in public. Yes, he'd come see the Lady after his meeting with the Society. He'd probably need a bit of a stress-reliever after spending so much time around so many scary adventurer types. Speaking of scary adventurer types, Avaricious was so wrapped up in his thoughts of possibly malevolent seer-singers and the origin of the letter "M", that he seemed to have walked straight into the 30 ft. gap that was the space between the proclaimed Warrior Princess of the People, Alice, and the crowd of smelly, sweaty people. In fact, he walks directly in front of her by accident, most likely breaking her eye contact with whoever she was staring at before.

    Incidentally, just as the bard finally realizes that the stench of man was oddly less repugnant where he was standing. His brows furrow in confusion before he looks around and turns to stare right at Alice D'Aritel, his eyes going wide as he realizes that he'd almost accidentally ran right into arguably the most dangerous person in the city on the side of the law. He just stands there, like a deer in the headlights, unsure of what do to other than blink. It is at this moment that the crowd goes completely silent, staring towards the Lady of Morning who had just entered. However, Avaricious has his back to the stage, staring at Alice. Due to this, the man gets even more nervous than he would have been otherwise! However, he does not panic. He's never been one to panic. So, in an attempt to break the ice and maybe get the crowd to start talking again, he decides the best course of action would be to talk! To say something! Do something! Avaricious doesn't even have the time to think about what to say, so instead decides to blurt out a quick joke. Unfortunately, he'd been working on a specific joke the night before, and it had gotten stuck in his head. Unable to think of anything quicker, he just quickly spouts the joke out as loud as he could, breaking the complete silence. "Erm, uhhh! I knew an old Bishop who had lost some of his teeth, and complained of others being so loose that he was afraid they would soon fall out. “Never fear,” said one of his friends, “they won’t fall.” “And why not?” inquired the Bishop. His friend replied, “Because my testicles have been hanging loose for the last forty years, as if they were going to fall off, and yet, there they are still.”

    Following the joke, he closes his eyes tightly, realizing what he just said as a look of horror comes onto his face, his cheeks reddening. Did he literally just tell a joke about an old man's testicles to the 'Steel Princess' of Magnimar? In a final attempt to make things a little bit better, he'll start laughing. It's a forced laugh, a nervous laugh, clearly not real, but obviously meant to distract from the horrid thing he just spouted out.

    "Ha, aha, ha ha, ah?"
    Last edited by The Mad Hatter; 2014-12-27 at 03:28 AM.
    don't click this

  4. - Top - End - #4
    Troll in the Playground
     
    GreenSorcererElf

    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Gender
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Alica Derexhi wanders through the crowded streets of Magnimar accompanied by a tall robed figure, her eidolon Wayan. Her walk is not effortless, every step makes her feel the links of her chain shirt chaff against her tender skin. She is carrying the protective garment under her clothes, only a thin linen shirt separating her pale skin from the cold metal. The armor is too heavy for her, she studies the warriors effortlessly strolling by in their heavy armors with envy. So unfair, I get tired from wearing just this shirt, while they go around in full chainmail without seeming to be bothered. You got other attributes to make up for the lacking strength though. A voice resounds in her head telepathically, as dark in her head as it is out loud. She can communicate with Wayan with a mere thought. Another step makes her armor jostle around her large mounds of flesh and makes a link land right around a nipple, the weight squeezing down on the sensitive flesh. She lets out a gasp in surprise. "Argggh" Angrily she responds back in her head. Yes, my ability to feed the children I may or may not have one day sure is useful when I am looking to participate in a dangerous adventure as part of the pathfinder's society. A deep laugh resounds from the robed creature next to her, making some people turn their head to see the shadows within the cowl. You know full well I meant your magic, not your ability to feed or bear young. As if on cue, her shapely hips bump into a passerby. An old man with white hair turns towards her and winks at her, sizing her up and down, her slender waist and arms are possible to make out under her beautiful attire. She quickly nods and apologizes, even if she is pretty sure it wasn't her fault. "I am sorry." Before she turns and hurries on, Wayan stepping in behind her to cut off the man's gaze.

    Alica smoothes back her hair to calm herself. It at least takes her mind of what just happened, but it does not bring her calm. Ah, how long have I gone without human contact? Melissa and I used to spend a lot of time fixing each other's hair every day. She was quick enough to condemn me after the accident. How will I make her trust me as before? Despite being in a sea of people she is lonely. She hums softly for herself. "All the lonely people. Where do they all come from? All the lonely people. Where do they all belong?" Again a voice in her head interrupts her singing. You got me now, no need to be so sad. She smiles a bit and manages to focus back on reality. "Tank you." She says in a whisper, though loud enough for the robed figure at her shoulder to hear. Alica surveys her fine dark crimson dress, made to fit perfectly along her body, even with the chain shirt underneath. It sure shows off her hourglass figure, nicely curved hips, slender waist and large breasts. Ah, at least the colors of my former house will hide any bloodstains if I should become wounded by any of the ordeals I am set to face by the pathfinders. Everything is indeed in order and she is ready to face Sheila Heimarch, even if the dress does not quite match the crossbow at her hip.

    The young summoner finally makes her way to the Junction and starts crossing. Her gaze can't help but be drawn to the icy woman at the center of the square. She studies the other woman with envy as she thinks. Ah, Alice. Our names are similar and even our upbringing, however our circumstances are not. I wish I could have but a fraction of your power and fame. And companions... I am sure you got plenty of close friends and admirers. I want close companions more than anything. One day you will surpass her in power and steal her admirers. Who knows, maybe the two of you could even become companions.

    As the young girl walks on, her gaze gets drawn to another one studying the same as her. Broad-shouldered and bare-chested, with shoulder length black hair and fierce green eyes and an enormous sword. My, isn't he something else. That man is quite pleasing on the eyes, and I am sure he is strong enough to offer protection. He wields such an enormous tools. Her cheeks colors as her thoughts drifts to some other tool he could have been using. I will probably never see him again, so I should let my eyes drink in as much as possible while I got the opportunity. She stops for a moment to study the man as the crowd goes silent around her. The choice is easy once the man starts wandering towards the theater. I might get something useful out of this seer. And he us confidently clearing a path to head over there. The meeting is not in that much of a hurry. Maybe some of the other people I am meeting are just as interested in this as I am. Don't lie to yourself. You want to be closer to that man, to spend more time in his presence before he is gone. It is not a bad choice though. You will be able to focus much more effectively at the task later if you have some good inspiration and peace of mind. The couple are able to move quickly through the crowd in the path left by the bare-chested man.

    Spoiler: Actions
    Show
    Knowledge Nobility to know about Alice (1d20+7)[27]
    Knowledge Nobility to know about The Lady of Morning(1d20+7)[19]

  5. - Top - End - #5
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Upon arriving in the thriving city, Asiresh quickly headed for the nearest alleyway surrounding the main square to where he would observe any peculiar happenings that may happen. On his way through the crowd he is pushed aside by a hulking creature carrying a rather larger sword than expected and spits behind him before moving on. As he arrives in his chosen spot, he is somewhat pleased to find a stray dog picking through the garbage littered around. Asiresh whistles for the dog and as he nears Asir pulls out a small piece of stale bread to feed him and befriend him for the given time he needs to rest.

    He stops to take in the sheer beauty of what the city had become and to relive far distant memories of an old friend and his master. He flashes back to what seems like a century ago before the city was even built, hes standing next to his master Aviresh. But i dont understand why you brought me here master? Oh but in time you will thank me for everything done here. This? It's nothing but ruins and weeds? Give it time my dear son...give it time

    Asiresh soon snaps back to realize the dog had gone off on his own and the crowd had gone silent in preparation for the arrival of the seer and notices the creature who pushed him out of the way was at the front. Asiresh decided best to stay far from any turmoil that may be unraveled around beasts like this one.

    He just waits as if like a game to him, surveying the crowd, looking for anyone with an alternative motive to being here. He see a very intriguing blend of different nobles and warriors amongst the filth and smell brought with unfavorable beings. He noticed a few interesting men and women dressed differently spread out among the crowd as if strategically. Asiresh whispers to himself, Ah, don't get ahead of yourself now Asir, it could be nothing at all. Most likely just a coincidence. He puts it to the back of his mind and tries to find out what is going on up front again.

  6. - Top - End - #6
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The Tragic Villain
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Stumbling into the frosted clearing, caught before the crystal gaze of Alice,
    you blurted out the first joke that came to mind as loudly as you could.
    "Erm, uhhh! I knew an old Bishop who had lost some of his teeth, and complained of others being so loose that he was afraid they would soon fall out. “Never fear,” said one of his friends, “they won’t fall.” “And why not?” inquired the Bishop. His friend replied, “Because my testicles have been hanging loose for the last forty years, as if they were going to fall off, and yet, there they are still.”

    "Ha, aha, ha ha, ah?"
    A group of ragged-worn mercenaries baring no notable colors began to laugh hysterically.
    One of them fell over laughing, attempting to rise to his feet, but his action was impeded
    by his chain-mail. He fell over a second time, adding to another round of laughter. You opened
    your eyes. The sudden sound of cackling drew strange looks in your direction. Alice's gaze slowly
    rotated over to the group of men. The blood drained from their faces, and the outburst ended as
    immediately as it had begun.

    There was no trace of acknowledgment. No trace of humor. Just the unflinching frozen
    visage of the Steel Princess gazing back at you, with no fragment of scorn, nor pity. A
    simple calm indifference that sent a small shiver down your spine. Her presence seemed
    transcendent, inhuman. As if removed from the simple feelings and expressions that was
    a soul's humanity.

    "Mind your step."
    It was a sharp, clear, crisp-vocal-riposte. That did not dismiss your words or notions in
    any measure of disrespect. But simply ended it. Wrapping it up neatly like a gift, before
    placing it upon a shelf in a market stall. Then burning it to the earth.

    You quickly realized what she actually meant though. You feet had gone numb...
    You looked down to see the frost-rime had begun to wither about your well-worn
    noble boots. You had walked directly within her frozen-domain. You knew full well
    the birth provided around her was not due to her house, or shrill nature. Hopping
    back out of the frost-frozen space, you felt the unnatural cold ease away. The
    experience had simply served to justify your worst fears. Gri'athal was a fearsome
    creature, and Lady Alice was truly worthy of the lock-step-terror she inspired.

    Spoiler: Knowledge (Local) DC - {Gri'athal, The Glacial Talon of D'Aritel}
    Show

    The once-little-known myths and tales of the D'Aritel House had become common knowledge after Lord D'Aritel's succession to power. The most popular of which was the tale of Gri'athal, The Great Ice Linnorm said to have been put into service under the might of the first of their name. The little-know Margrave, Halvirice Renton D'Aritel, who was said to have originally hailed from Kalsgard far to the north. The family was old by all rights, and trace their heritage back a century and more. Fierce warriors had always led the D'Aritel name, with Margrave Halvirice's sword in hand.

    No one knows the details of how The Glacial Talon was truly forged. But those who came close enough told tails how the blade contained the Linnorm Gri'athal himself. Willing or not, it created a weapon of incredible might. An artifact passed down through the noble-warrior-linage, to be held by the head of their name. High-Lord D'Aritel had granted the blade to his daughter upon his rise to power, reasoning that he was no longer the Head of House, but the Head of the State, and that he would not allow his alliance to his name to taint his decisions.

    Spoiler: The Weapon
    Show

    The ancient longsword possesses a blade forged of one the seven ancient skymetals, known as Siccatite.
    A bright-silvery unnatural metal. That while is brother to adamantine, possesses unique features of its
    own. Rather then the unnatural hardness of its brother, it possesses a yet-explained elemental affinity
    to either fire-or-ice which is completely dependent on the steel itself. The fittings of the weapon were
    frost-forged of an unknown skymetal alloy. The exact details of the weapon were known only to the D'Aritel
    House, but few that had seen Alice D'Aritel in combat doubted the myths that surrounded Gri'athal.


    Spoiler: The Rime
    Show
    The physical frosty exterior that often accompanied Lady D'Aritel's presence gave rise
    to a number of humorous tavern jokes and prods. However, everyone knew not to walk to close to the frozen field
    she left. The writhing super-cold that permeated the blade and her touch when drawn, created a space of freezing-unlife. Remaining in the space was undoubtedly deadly if careless. The living frost-matter would climb and encompass anything that remained within its touch. A man could be encased in a block of ice if he stood within the glacial circle for an hour. Some had even made a challenge of it. A sword-less duel to see how long they could withstand the freezing-cold. No one understood how Lady Alice herself could sit within such a sub-temperature climate for seemingly, indefinite periods of time. Even her father had rarely, or never, drawn the weapon readily for fear of it's cruel embrace. It was a secret known by none, save Lady Alice D'Aritel...



    The freezing crystal gaze broke form you.
    All eyes were pulled behind you. You felt a strange
    tug at you consciousness, you turn to the Triodea to
    see what was so significant.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The Pathfinders (All)
    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    She laid back in her burgundy-overstuffed-chair, her delicate pale hand
    weaving elegantly above her, as if casting some wordless spell. Then she
    ceased the motion, rolling over on her back, her legs kicked up upon the
    arm-rest of the large chair.

    "My, what shall I play? What shall I play..."
    Her voice was soft, with a strange and whimsical-smooth-tone. She
    looked to the blue-noon-sky, as if in thought...

    The crowd began shouting out in random bursts of noise that
    split the strange silence that had settled over the once-busy-plaza.
    "Sing about my future!"
    The cries began to rise up, and become deafening. An
    incomprehensible jumble of screams, cries and shouts
    to hear their destined fates sung by this women.
    "No! Sing about my business!"
    "Will Bell get better!?"
    "Will I find my son!?"
    "Will I make it to The Summit of Fire!?"
    "SING OF ME!"
    "SING OF ME!"
    "TELL ME!"


    She raised her soft pale hand once more, and the crowd
    found a tense-hushed-silence. Lowering her hand, she rolled
    over in her chair. Her strange pose was angled somewhat
    seductively, with her crossed-legs and arms on either side
    of the rest. Her loose white gown did not exactly cover much
    of her self to begin with.

    "My, my. Please calm yourselves...
    T'wid not be in good manner to sing of only one, yes? But I must
    sing, must-I-not? So let fate find, who-will-find, what fate finds!"

    She chuckled somewhat softly, as if such airs was a game she
    played. She placed her delicate hand over here eyes, and laid
    her mandolin to the side.

    "I will siinnnnng....."
    She waived a pointed finger in the air menacingly, like it was some kind of weapon.
    A forgotten god's quill. An arbalest with bolts forged by destiny. She fired.

    "...Of you!"
    She blindly pointed at a strange, worn noblemen (Avaricious)

    She lifted her finger again, she was not done yet.
    "...And you!"
    She pointed to Lady D'Aritel. A small series of gasps did
    not halt her strange stunt, and she appeared to be completely
    unaware of the stern disproving gaze of the Knight-Princess.

    He hand want back up into the air a third time. The crowd was
    held in silent anticipation. But contradictory to what had already
    transpired, her hand shot off in a random slew of directions picking
    out individuals with a shot-gun approach.
    "...And you! ...And you! ...And you! ...And you!
    ...And you! You too!"


    A strange crippled old man, who hobbled in the corner with a long stick (Asiresh)
    A well armed and armored Magnimarian Knight dressed in worn polished armor (???)
    A strange warrior-maiden of Korsovo (Jeska)
    A large bare-chested barbaric looking warrior (Viridi)
    A young noble women in red, with a strange companion (Alica)
    A mysterious young artisan wearing well worked brown leathers and a cap (???)

    She lowered her hand, and removed her mock-blindfold.
    Her playful tone had been lost somewhere in her gimmick.
    Her voice seemed to carry a somber and a steady-sober-inflection.
    "I will sing of all of you. I will sing of this city..."

    She picked up her mandolin, and stumed once. Then stopped to tune a few strings.
    She began a steady somewhat otherworldly melody. A tune that could have been
    crafted by magic, you could not be entirely sure that it wasn't. Perhaps her instrument
    was more then just flaunty stage-appearance. She smiled darkly looking at Viridi who
    stood directly before her, only a measure of steps and a 20 ft space spanning the distance
    between them.

    "I think, I'll name this Song.... weather? Storm? Ah.
    This song is called.. '...To Reflect The Storm' "


    Rumors said her songs were spontaneous, with lyrics fired-from-the-hip.
    That appeared to have some validity it seemed. Her voice was enchanting.
    Entrancing. It was a soft-perfectly-pitched-hymn to the gods of music.

    " Mother. Mother. Mother, I'm here."
    Father. Sister. Mother, still here.

    So would you turn away?
    Come again, another day?
    ...And pass in peace?
    ...Please. In. Peace... And dream."


    The rhythm began to increase, an ethereal
    crescendo of sound as if in wordless reply.

    "...You know not peace.
    ...You know not peace.

    Mother... you know not peace.
    Sister.... you know not peace.

    Father. Come back... oh, please.

    Sister is lost.
    Mother is lost.
    They won't, look away.
    They won't, look away.
    They won't, show their face.
    They won't, show their face."


    The melody drops back and forth with intricate
    streaming arpeggios, then breaking into a haunting
    assault of blinding sweep picking.

    "...So let your storm, wash theses streets.
    Run their blood through my dreams....

    'Nay, I'll not turn away!'
    'Nay, I'll not show my face.'
    'Nay, I'll not walk away.'
    'Not til thine sisters come. Running through mornings sun.'
    'Not til thine sisters come. Running through the bloody run.'

    'Bare my charge, upon your feet. Let them not rest-or-eat.'
    'Bare my charge, 'fore your head. Strike them til they are dead.'


    Nay, I'll not turn away!
    Nay, I'll not bare cruel fate!

    Mother, Mother, Mother, hear me.
    Mother, Mother, Mother, show reason.
    Show reason...
    Show your face...
    Show reason... "


    The last note echoes outward upon the silent crowd.
    The Lady's head rolled back to the sky, sitting upright,
    as if caught in a trance. A fierce stream of infernal notes
    begin to shred across the tentative silence.

    "Fire Strike! Burn away! Pull the Souls, from this place!
    Break and flee, fore the bell!
    Second toll, will signal Hell!
    The sky you crack, broken flame. To their frame you do the same!
    Blood will spill upon the hour. From this sin, innocence to scour.
    With his axe, upon the head, many are lost. Many are dead.
    Purge the flame, walk in smoke. Through grey clouds, your words are chocked.
    Sword raised high! To the Sky!
    ...To fight in light. The air is right.
    Come from East. To bring your beast.
    To take me home!
    To take them home!
    Far away. So, far, away...

    ....To the stars.
    ...This, day. "


    Her last words stream off into a whisper. Her eyes open, and her head rolls back to look
    at the crowd. A strange stunned quiet chokes the air. The look of worry and shock is chiseled
    into the features of most. Even the foreigners wear a dire mask.

    A man screams out,
    "RUN! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THE CITY WILL FALL SECOND BELL!
    A panic ensues. Men, women, and persons of every sort, break off from the Plaza trying to separate themselves from the massive chaos. People of all sorts dropped goods and wares, running over those in their path in a mad dash for the gate to Lost Coast Road. Screams and shouts erupt as the tumultuous mob stampedes out of the plaza, some to escape the city, and others to simply be far from the infernal-witch who prophesied the assault. Lady D'Aritel moved about helping those she could who had been accosted in the rush, separating the wounded and feeble from the onslaught.

    The Lady chuckled softly in plain amusement. Laughing amid the chaos and screams.
    She threw her Mandolin over her shoulder carelessly. It disappeared without a trace,
    as if fetched by some invisible hand. She tapped the chair as if commanding a dog-sled;
    "Mush!"
    The large chair animated, and slowly began it's march up the fine sparkling marble tiles
    of the Triodea. She smiled all the while, her gaze locked upon Lady D'Aritel who glared
    back scornfully in turn, surrounded amidst a sea of pandemonium.
    Last edited by Mornings; 2014-12-28 at 03:22 PM.

  7. - Top - End - #7
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    As Asiresh looks up to the stage once more he notices a lady of a sort with a mandolin pointing at different people, including himself, as if to mark them in some way with a song. He feels as if hes seen this before, but before he could ponder upon it for to long the woman broke into song. He listened carefully for curtain words, his eyes dilate and he can sense something is strange with this one. He quickly casts detect magic then takes a took around the stage and to the sky. After a subtle look around he begins to listen to the words of the song once more.

    So let your storm, wash theses streets.
    Run their blood through my dreams....
    It dons on him...The storm that followed me...could it be that she is controlling it? He looks to the sky once more but returns his gaze to the stage. His mind flickers once more at the words coming from the woman's mouth.

    Come from East. To bring your beast.
    To take me home!
    To take them home!
    Far away. So, far, away...

    ....To the stars.
    ...This, day.
    He looks to the east in hopes of seeing the wall of clouds but to his misfortune he see nothing but buildings and walls. Sadly there's no time to move to a better veiw, his thoughts were disrupted by a loud yell from the crowd and turmoil broke loose. He takes a quick glance down at his palm to see the symbol of Ketephys, and prays that this is a worthy hunt to please his god. Asir decided he would sit back and wait to see if any of these worthless warriors would stand and defend the city.

    Spoiler: Cast 'Detect Magic'
    Show
    Asiresh casts detect magic upon hearing the first verse of the ballad.
    Last edited by iValkyrieX; 2014-12-27 at 06:44 PM.

  8. - Top - End - #8
    Troll in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)



    - The Mistress of Shadow -


    Spoiler: Knowledge Nobility - {Alice D'Aritel}
    Show
    (1d20+7)[27]

    The Steel Princess's renown existed further then just Magnimar. Tales of the cities
    'Ice Princess' had reached all about the Inner Sea region with the brutal victories she
    achieved within The Steel Summit. She was regarded as one of the top three Master's
    of Fire within the region next to Kovosa's fierce battle maiden, and the far-removed
    'Crimson Crow', a certain Aldori Swordlord from Rostland who had made an unexpected
    entrance last year. She was a walking monument, a 'mascot' of sorts representing the
    people. and the city's might.

    Her might in arms inspired order. Her dauntless determination to crush evil and corruption
    inspired fear. She was educated, well mannered and disciplined. She had a knowledge and
    mind of the court and the political workings of the city that far outstretched most noble lords.
    She served the city tirelessly. While named as 'The Alabaster Ward' officially giving her full
    command and jurisdiction over the district. Her word commanded the whole of the city's
    Guard and military force. The unnamed 'General' of the city.

    The D'Aritel policy was one played close-to-the-chest. They let no official function or group
    operated outside of their watch and grasp. Thus, it was only fitting that the daughter of High-Lord
    Alv'tir D'Aritel command so much responsibility. The symbol that she was, was one of incorruptible
    duty and loyalty.

    Spoiler: The Master of Fire
    Show
    Lady D'Aritel competed in The Steel Summit every year. Yet never
    had entered in The Summit of Steel. She had earned enough merit to enter twice, yet she always
    declined. She sought no personal glory, she merely competed for the city's honor and had not
    forgotten her station as heir-to-the-crown. More then half the men that entered The Summit of
    Steel did not live to attempt it again. Such danger was involved that there was no guarantee a
    Summit of Steel would even be held. Generally The Summit ended with the naming of The Master's
    of Fire. It was truly a tournament to be recorded when men entered into the final phase.

    The Princess always fought with a powerful and furious style, that was measured-yet-vicious.
    She did not withhold the strength of her blows even in sport. Almost half of the lesser warriors
    to face her in combat had been slain. Often not under the weight of her sword-arm, but from
    the crippling-cold of her strikes and presence. Those that were not slain often surrendered after
    having their weapons cloven-and-shattered, a feat that had become something of her signature
    for how often she managed to perform it.


    Spoiler: Duty and Life
    Show
    Lady D'Aritel was as much herself as she was also her duty-and-station.
    She currently pursued no romantic interests. And was often too busy with her official position to
    pursue other interests. However it was known she enjoyed music, literature, and forge-works of
    arms and armor. The later was somewhat of a hidden passion. She found the artistry to create
    weapons and armor enthralling, a little known fact. However, the Lady's almost obsessive pursuit
    of greater master of combat in all it's forms was well known. She would often accept challenges
    of sword, bow, and boxing in leisure, with those she respected. It was a passion that she only
    shared with friends... and enemies, to their dismay.


    Spoiler: The Arcane Arts
    Show
    Princess D'Aritel was a strange one by the measure of her family. At
    a young age she had been somewhat meek-and-bookish. She enjoyed sword-work but did not look
    to pursue it actively. Instead she choose the 'lesser arts', or so the D'Aritel's called it. She took an
    interest in the old rune magic and mysteries of old. The ancient stories and texts were enchanting.

    Lady D'Aritel never became an arcane caster as she had sought out as a child, but she had learned
    to apply some of the workings of less-known magic in her sword-craft. Often it would be so subtle
    it was overlooked in combat.

    She still maintains a private library and records which she uses
    as a study, and to re-explore her roots from time-to-time.





    Spoiler: Knowledge Nobility - {The Lady of Morning}
    Show

    (1d20+7)[19]

    Rhis Valaria Childman, not many people knew that name. Official ledger listed that as her
    official name, or so said a loose-lipped lawmen of the Capital District. It could have been
    entirely fabricated. There was no mention or record of her family. No estate. No wealth
    to speak of. On paper, she was no better then a begging commoner. But to see The Lady
    of Morning in person. Her elegant gestures and whimsical wordplay. She was anything but
    a commoner. Educated. Well versed. And a master of an assortment of musical instruments.
    The mysterious back-round was a thing of common talk and gossip. Perhaps she was set
    loose by the gods, with a prophetic tongue-in-cheek and a voice to sing.

    Truth was, no one truly knew where she had emerged from.
    After the war, she was occasionally seen at the Triodea, and within The Alabaster District
    once every few months or so. But it was only recently within this year she had taken up
    residence in Magnimar. It had been less then three months and her fame had spread like
    wildfire. She charged nothing. She made nothing. She was no more then a glorified street
    performer with no home or money to speak of. Yet she seemed to possess such extravagant
    instruments and possessions, even buying the Triodea for herself, becoming the owner of said
    theater. No one could explain where this vast wealth came from or who she really was.


    Spoiler: Knowledge Local: DC - {The Lady of Morning}
    Show

    Those that did not spend time within Starsilver Plaza, Naos, or The Alabaster District were
    not usually familiar with some of the more recent common gossip regarding The Lady.

    Fairly recently she had taken it upon herself to become an 'employer of adventurers'.
    Pathfinders. Fighters. Mercenaries. The homeless. It didn't matter. All that mattered
    was a willing and able bodied individual seeking employment was seeking her sponsorship.
    She would hire any man, women, or child who sought work from her. The jobs and tasks,
    were completely random, but often involved fetching an item, usually a mundane object like
    a book, bucket, mop, broom... of no actual relevance to her. Often she discarded this items
    immediately. However, she payed upfront for each task complete.

    However, the infuriating 'catch', was that she would not name the item in question specifically.
    Those under her employment had to listen to a song, and interpret what she sought. Often they
    would not know if they were right or wrong in their guess until the money was in hand. There was
    no additional clues, or hints and The Lady of Morning only played a song once.

    Spoiler: Conversing With The Lady
    Show

    From what they said. Conversations with The Lady tended to be increadibly difficult.
    bordering between an unless slew of puzzles or riddles. Or interrpreting a song, for
    things as simple as a 'Yes-or-No' answer.

    There were only three things she would speak about openly:
    -The various medallions she often hung about her person.
    -Employment
    -And her songs. Which was often vague.

    She was nortoriously flighty and short of attention.
    The moment she no longer found enjoyment or a measure of
    interest in a conversation, the talk was over. She was a difficult
    women to manage, but her power and influence seemed to grow
    with each day.



  9. - Top - End - #9
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Viridi

    The Numerian grins back at the Lady of Morning, but slowly his face moves from a grin to a look of confusion as she sings her song. He crosses his arms and looks irritated as the crowd cries out in panic and runs around wildly him while he mutters aloud to himself. "That's her fortune telling? Some song about Hell's Bells or something? It doesn't even make any sense!" Grunting in frustration he shakes his head, "Well, she'd still be a hell of a bang if I just went after her right--" Finding himself cut off by one of the panicking citizens running head-first into him, Viridi finally actually takes note of the chaos around him, and that Lady Alice was trying to keep everyone from getting hurt. Guess I'll help too. Might make her notice me at least, and mobs are annoying to walk through anyway.

    Looking around and seeing the panic, the bloodrager quickly decides that both beating down the mob one by one and trying to be nice about it wasn't going to get anywhere. People were dumb in big groups, and panicky people were really dumb, even Viridi knew that, but knocking them out would take too long and upset the city guard. Instead, using the tricks he learned in his days fighting mock battles in the Serpent's Run, Viridi takes a deep breath before shouting with as much force as his lungs could muster, intending to cow the crowd with sheer volume. "ALL OF YOU! STOP RUNNING AND BE QUIET!"

    Not waiting to see if he got their attention, or giving any whose attention he did grab time to start panicking again, he continues at equal volume. "THE CITY WILL NOT FALL! WHAT DO YOU TRUST MORE, HER WEIRD SONG, OR THE STRENGTH OF THE KNIGHT OF LUMINESCENCE?!"

    There. If there's even a half a gallon of sense in the lot of them, that should shut 'em up.
    And though he doesn't let his face show it, Viridi silently fumes about how he needed to give someone else's title in his little speech rather than his own name.

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  10. - Top - End - #10
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Flumph

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Jeska re-read the letter she had recieved, directing her to the Heidmarch manor. She folded the piece of parchment and placed it into the bag she had strapped to the side of her pack. The scarred woman walked over to the small water basin in the inn room and splashed the cold water on her face to help wake herself up, before undressing and scrubbing her whole body clean. It would set a rather poor first impression if she arrived smelling of sweat and filth after all.

    After finishing with her own bathing, she takes a brush and scrubs her armor as well, trying to eliminate the sweat smell from it as well. Again, first impressions and all. Seeing that was taken care of, she quickly dresses herself, then starts putting on her plated armor, first with the cloth padding, freshly dried from the previous night's washing, then with the various leg plates, followed by the curiass and rerebrace. She finished with the red leather wrappings that served as her vambraces and greaves. To the latter she added a half-greave to each leg, covering her shins. She topped the ensemble off with a red cape, not the original that she received with the armor when she completed her training with the Gray Maidens, that had been torn to tatters in her flight here to Magnimar, but a replacement she had acquired with some of her winnings from the Hippodrome. The helmet was left in her pack. While she could wear the Maiden's armor, the very symbol of her sins, she refused to return to being a faceless warrior.

    Strapping on her baldric, she makes sure her sword is loose in it's sheath and grabs her shield, leaving the room after slinging her pack over her shoulder, heading downstairs and settling up with the innkeeper. Leaving the inn, she starts walking towards the Heidmarch Manor, arriving in the plaza just as the Lady of Morning made her entrance. Jeska shook her head in wonderment as several people began shouting their desires for their fortunes that the Lady could supposedly provide. Could they not tell that she is crazy? she wonders to herself, not acknowledging the Lady pointing at her. After she finished and the crowd broke into a panic, she just shook her head. To lend such weight to a crazy woman's meaningless song just amazed her.

    She did not stay in her wonderment for long, quickly stepping forward and gently pushing people out of her way with her shield, heading for a young couple that had fallen. Thankfully she manages to reach them and help them up before they are trampled by the panicking crowd. Keeping an eye out, she pushes her way through the crowd, looking for others that might have fallen or were otherwise in danger.

  11. - Top - End - #11
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    The Mad Hatter's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Avaricious:

    With a look that's seventy percent relief, twenty percent unease, and ten percent amusement, the dhampir noble smiles awkwardly. Unfortunately, this reveals his vampiric fangs, inherited directly from the vampiric father he never knew. Usually, in an attempt to hide the distinguishing feature, the man applied some hideous makeup onto his teeth, making him look like every other dentally inadequate nobleman, of which there were an incredible amount in the world. This time though, he was attempting to come off as a little cleaner in order to impress the somewhat intimidating Pathfinder Society. As he smiles, he realizes what he's done and blinks incredibly fast, before deciding to use his arms to take the attention away from his teeth. He uses his arms fairly well, slapping his knee in mock laughter, continuing to laugh awkwardly, his voice getting smaller and smaller until Alice silences the mercenaries that took at least a little bit of the attention away from him. At that, he just lets out a faint croak, finishing his interaction with Alice by waggling his eyebrows, throwing his hands up by his face, and promptly walking straight backwards into the crowd. Well, he tries to at least. Something was wrong, his feet weren't working with his brain the way they were supposed to. So, he runs a nervous hand through his hair, sort of bobbing the hat off to a steep angle, before gesturing one finger forward. "Erm. One sec."

    At that, he attempts to wrest his foot away, but sort of stumbles as he does so. He wasn't used to having his limbs respond all noodley-like, being fairly dexterous most of the time from all the dance lessons of his youth. Ah, dance lessons! Yes, that was it, that was why he was so intimidated by this Alice! She had a face just like the dance instructor he dealt with when he was younger. Avaricious's grandfather, though bedridden, still forced the young boy to take fencing and dancing, as all noble children were supposed to, even though the dhampir hadn't technically ever been a real nobleman. He attempts to walk away once more, nod furiously towards Alice before snapping. When he does this, his powers of prestidigitation will take effect, heating up his shoes until they're hot enough to sort of melt away the numbness. It's a process that shouldn't take more than a second. He'll speak to fill in the time, addressing the warrior princess directly. "M'humble 'poligies, miss. See, it's not every day a man like me sees a gal like you, aheh." He smiles, this time with his lips pursed, before bowing curtly and fading into the crowd, his face still facing the knight until he vanishes behind some tall warrior, flipping on his heel and beginning to navigate the crowd.

    That was a mighty looking sword, clearly magical, and worth a pretty penny. Avaricious raises an eyebrow and ponders over just how much one could get for the legendary blade, before shrugging the thought away. There was no chance he could do it, no one was even close to her, everyone could see it happen! No, this wasn't even close to being the most ideal situation! The poor guy is a bit embarrassed. He was normally so suave, so diplomatic, so well-prepared! What the hell was the matter? "Ahhh, must be the damned Society on me mind, best not mind the... the mind... I... wha?" His train of thought is brutally thrown off the rails as something draws his attention towards the Triodea. He'll raise a hand to scratch at his head, pondering over what the hell he was thinking about before the woman on stage distracted him. Most bards would be thrilled at the chance to listen to The Lady of Morning, but not Avaricious. He was always one for speeches, for philosophical debates, for rousing toasts and political intrigue. The dhampir preferred the power of words over the powers of song, and as such didn't particularly care to be here, although he did, of course, respect The Lady as a performer. However, with the way the crowd was locked up, attempting to leave the area would likely get his slim and short build of five foot seven crushed. Not much to do but wait it seems.

    Finally, the Lady of Morning begins speaking and rousing the crowd, getting more and more annoyed as the people in the crowd spout suggestions left and right. It was incredibly rude to blurt in like that. Finally, a young boy about eight or nine standing just behind Avaricious shouts out the final, "TELL ME". As the kid does so, Avaricious steps right in front of the kid before aiming a kick backwards at the little boy. If there was one thing the bard hated, it was children that misbehaved or acted like nuisances, and secondly, he hated it when an audience wasn't quite and respectful to a performer. Hopefully, the boy should end up kicked onto his ass and made to quiet down. (I don't think an attack role needs to be made to bop a kid, but if I am mistaken, do tell me in the OOC, DM, and I will role then.) Once the business with the child is done, he'll solemnly shake his head and cluck his tongue. "What is the world coming to." The quiet utterance was particularly ironic, seeing as the nobleman himself was a particularly horrible person in most people's eyes. The dhampir takes a look at the stage again, his eyes tracing along the outline of The Lady's pale hand, her skin standing out to him. He'd always had an incredible fascination with those of pale skin, for though he was quite pale due to the angle of his cheeks and forehead, his face often seemed a bit darker than it was thanks to the shadows. That, and The Lady's skin reminded him somewhat of Avilia...

    The man sighs and closes his eyes, looking down as he's suddenly yelled at. He opens his eyes and gazes to the stage, his eyes glancing around quickly. She was singing of him? Oh gods no. He had no intention of ever having his future foretold. To be honest, the man was frightened of what he might told, for he knows full well that the path he's on would most likely end with a painful sensation and a short, sharp shock. Avaricious had actually often thought of the ways of execution he'd prefer, and eventually decided that he'd prefer beheading. Much faster death that way. He was occasionally rather morbid, another reason he didn't want his future told. Avaricious knew he was paranoid enough as it was, he didn't need a death sentence in rhyme shouted at him by some creepy old crone smelling of urine and wine. Then again, The Lady of Morning was no old crone, and probably even smelled of vanilla. Avaricious had always loved the smell of vanilla, Avilia always smelled so strongly of it... So sensual, so welcoming, so soft. His first real poem was for Avillia, featuring some witty comparison between her name and the vanilla orchid, and how similar the names sounded when pronounced. Avaricious sighs deeply, crossing his arms and taking his time to actually listen in to the woman on stage. Lately, he'd been so often deep in thought, it was unusual.

    As the song gets more and more unpleasant with each verse, Avaricious just starts to clasp his hands together and rummage through the satchel of bolts at his hip. Yup, all there, good. He may have to use them soon enough, unfortunately. The man really didn't like the sight or taste of blood, although the smell of it was always so intoxicating for whatever reason. Sort of like how some of the people he knew were with particularly strong-tasting beverages. Hopefully it wouldn't come to the point where blood needed to be spilled. Then, as the woman finishes her song, the people begin to panic. Avaricious stays perfectly still, seemingly unfazed by the doomsday prophecy. In fact, as the people begin to panic and scream, he begins to do a little dance. It's very small and reserved, first just a bob of his head, followed by a jovial bounce of his shoulders. Finally, he finishes the little jig by slowly waving his hands up to his face, silently praising the skies for his good luck. Hundreds of people in one place, a marketplace-like area even, panicking and running about, knocking things over! This was a veritable goldmine of opportunity! In fact, the man will stop his silly little dance and begin to maneuver the crowd with great skill, his focus entirely on the job at hand now that hee had a bit of adrenaline flowing through him. That sword, hmmm. He had to get to that sword! But how?

    Well, first, he needed to not look like himself if he ended up caught, but his disguise kit was so far away, in the back of his wagon, stuffed into a locked chest! Time to improvise. First, he passes an older man with a ragged cloak, brown and worn from travel. Probably a trader of some kind, it didn't really matter. He'll walk behind the guy and attempt to grab the cloak off his shoulders, pointing and shrieking into the man's ear to direct him away from the act. "Gahh! Look, it's a thing! Boo!" The noise itself was enough to frighten and distract most people, it didn't really matter what he said. (Sleight of Hand: (1d20+5)[7]) Should this succeed, he'll quickly wrap the cloak over him and make his way to the next target. Ahh, a little boy with a scarf! That would be perfect for hiding his face! He'll attempt to run right at the child before feinting and turning to brush past him, hopefully grabbing the yellow scarf in the process. (Sleight of Hand: (1d20+5)[16]) Assuming all goes well, he'll wrap it around his face as he continues to move along. Finally, he realized he still had that blasted hat! Alice was probably at least a little bit intelligent, she would recognize it! So, he'll rush towards a fellow with a mop-like looking hat, sort of frumpy and shapeless. Not at all his style, but he'd have to make it work. This time he'll just sneak up behind the guy and grab the hat from his head, before placing his own hat on the other man's head! (Sleight of Hand: (1d20+5)[25]) Of course, Avaricious will pluck the feather from the cap he once owned that was now on the other man's head, and stuff it into his own new hat. Avaricious liked feathers. (A Disguise Check for the final costume piece. (Disguise: (1d20+9)[26])

    Finally, he'll cast prestidigitation once more, this time using it to warm the clothing he's wearing beneath the brown cloak. The warmth effect heats the object or objects enchanted forty degrees higher than usual, which ought to help him deal with that cold sword. He was wearing heated gloves now, after all. So, he'll make his way behind Lady Alice before attempting to wrest the sword from her and run off into the crowd. Should he fail his sleight of hand, however, he'll go with it and simply rush right into her, pretending to have simply been pushed into her. So, on a success, he'll run right off with it, back to the alleyways. On a failure, he'll crash into her and start shouting about an injured arm in a strange voice, his face covered by the hat and scarf, the large brown cloak covering his noble clothing, looking for all the world to be nothing more than an average peasant man, if a rather eccentric one. (Sleight of Hand: (1d20+5)[22])
    don't click this

  12. - Top - End - #12
    Troll in the Playground
     
    GreenSorcererElf

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Alica

    Alica is suprised to see that she is selected from the crowd, though, the feeling is quickly replaced by a spreading warmth as she realizes she has been singled out together with Viridi. Maybe this means we will get to interact more than these brief moments on the plaza. I don't think I would mind that. I wouldn't mind that at all. I wonder why I feel like this about him though. I have never felt like this before. We haven't even spoken together!

    Her attention turns quickly towards the song once the seer starts playing. What an ominous song. I wonder what will happen. Might it be connected to what the pathfinders want us to do? Maybe this is some sort of task she is giving us? It is so vague though. Hard to get anything useful out of this. As she sees the panic spread through the crowd a crazy though strikes her. She decides to act on it before her judgment can get the better of her impulse. She starts moving quickly, but towards the seer, instead of away, also towards the man she followed through the crowd earlier.

    Alica bumps into the man, pressing her breasts against him. Unfortunately this causes the chain shirt to press into her tender flesh. She can’t help but wince in pain as the rigid material constricts her sensitive mounds. At the same time she marvels about how steady, solid and warm the flesh of the man she ran into feels. Something is seriously wrong with me, how I can enjoy this. She thinks at the same time as she utters. “Ouch, I am sorry.” Staying close to the big warrior she looks up to see him start to shout out. Such confidence, he believes he can quell the crowd with his voice alone. Might not be realistic, but it is really nice to see him help out. A confident, good and strong man. His voice is nice too, if a bit loud. A smile creeps onto the face of the girl thinking of all the good characteristics of the man that is still nearly pressed up against her. Finally she speaks up. “I don’t think it is possible to stop the crowd at this point, they are too panicked. It is a noble effort of you to try though good Sir.

  13. - Top - End - #13
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Mornings's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    - The Ancient -

    Your eye's dimly glow with arcane energies augmenting your vision. You can feel something immediately upon completion of the spell, but are not able to make it out. Studying the performance carefully, a strange golden light seems to emanate from The Lady of Mornings as she enters her trance-like-state. As if her whole being was a conduit of magic. It was not blinding, but it gave a strange sense of calm that filled your heart with a warm and humming sensation.

    As her performance neared it's end, you could feel the presence of other magical entities upon the stage. Yet you could make out no trace of it's sources. It was not until the very end amid the chaos that you saw the very delicate out lines of strange figures surrounding The Lady. You could not make any details out of these amorphus outlines. They appeared as veiled humanoid entities, clear as glass. The strong presence of Illusion magic, of a nature you had never encountered lingering upon your thoughts.


    Sliding back and towards the western corner of the Triodea, steping from out of the chaos in the plaza, you watch and wait. Who will rise up, what might unfold here?

    Chaos in The Plaza; Magnimar - 12:25 PM, Toilday the 15th

    It was madness.

    The plaza was large by any-man's account, and this day it had been filled almost to the point of discomfort. Thousands of men, women, children. Merchants trying to make a days pay, men of every sorts, had filled these streets. Now, it looked like a scene from battle. A warzone of fleeing citizens and nobles alike, if not out of fear, out of the desire to seperate themselves as far as possible from the disorder and violence beginning to erupt.

    Mother's lost children. Merchants and their wares, trampled underfoot.
    The panic was contagious, and soon their was only a blinding disarray.

    - The Solemn Guardian -

    The steel-clad women, pounded her way through. Men crashed into her shield, bounding off and resuming their mad sprint. The mob was not fleeing in a single direction, they were fleeing in all directions, not even sure where they were going. Not even sure if there was any safety that shelter could provide.

    A sight had caught her eye. With a kick-and-sprint, she covered the forty feet between herself and her target. Pulling a child from the stone floor before he was crushed like rotten fruit. A wave of crazed maddened men and women washing over her like a wave striking a rock. She saw the Steel Princess wading through the discord, carrying four men like sacks of potatoes to the corner of The Capital District, placing them out of harms way. The princess was right. She could not aid those she recovered while remaining within the threat. A motherless girl crashed into her and fell to the floor as she made your way to the same clearing. Quickly she lifted her as well, bringing both children to safety. Two of the individuals already recovered from the pit of hysteria, cry out in joy and recognition while looking upon the children she saved. A merchant man, dressed in an apron and dusty attire, and a regal looking women. They both thanked the lady-knight again and again, then fled from the absurdity in the plaza.

    - The Mistress of Shadow & The Action Hero -

    His voice boomed out from the steps of the Triodea. Almost carrying across the Plaza.

    "ALL OF YOU! STOP RUNNING AND BE QUIET!"
    I don’t think it is possible to stop the crowd at this point, they are too panicked. It is a noble effort of you to try though good Sir.
    "THE CITY WILL NOT FALL! WHAT DO YOU TRUST MORE, HER WEIRD SONG, OR THE STRENGTH OF THE KNIGHT OF LUMINESCENCE?!"
    Men, women, creatures within twenty-feet of the man froze. Some even fell over in fright at the sudden shout. But he could see some thought beginning to cross the faces of those in the plaza. His words were true, and proven. The Knight of Luminescence had indeed saved the city once before.

    A great deal of people around the Triodea seemed to re-garner a small sense of reality, and truly think again. Not being driven by blind fear and apocalyptic-prophecy. But the Plaza as a whole was still in wild-unfettered-frenzy. Cries of terror and random screams proclaiming the song as "...from the mouth of the gods", and that "steel could not defeat Divine Will."

    Scared people were stupid after all.
    He could hear the large elaborate doors of the Triodea close behind him.

    - The Tragic Villain & The Steel Princess -

    The cunning bard danced through the crowd with an elegant two-step-and-flair. The cloak looked like a perfect addition to his soon-to-be, disguise. Coming up behind the old man and pointing away in the distance while screaming in his ear;

    "Gahh! Look, it's a thing! Boo!"
    The men let out a feeble and fearful cry looking away. But moving to grab the cloak, he seemed to pull together his wits and notice the attempt at his ragged possession, he grabbed his own shoulders as if to secure it while yelling in his old mumbling-rasp-of-a-voice " mmmm, hey'r' Wha' ya' do'in!". Deciding to forgo elegance, the dhampir simply ripped the dammed thing off his back, and gave him a firm push in the rear, sending him sprawling into a passing crowd. He let out a pathetic scream while being trampled as the bard quickly moved for his next mark without a pause-in-step. Grabbing one end of the scarf, the villain took afew steps about the child easily removing it from his face, all the while moving to another man with a perfectly-fine-piece of trash on his head. He easily swapped hats with a deft-and-practiced hand while being sure to re-set the fine feather from his previous item. The guise was complete! He ran his hands quickly over himself to secure the new-found-display.

    Casting his meager magic over himself to warm his cloths, he scanned the crowd. She had just finished recovering four men from the chaos placing them at the corner of The Capital District and moved to reenter the panic-spree once more. This was your chance. You'd have that sword. It was probably worth a fortune to some collector, pompous-noble, or just a good-old fence who might take it off his hands.

    He charged with the crowd, becoming just another panicked face in a sea of faces. The push and roil of the wild mob did most of the work for you. At this point, He was relatively certain he probably could not stop even had he wanted to. A short-sprint and a hundred-feet later, he came upon his mark, veering into her in a rush as if thrown by the mob to disguise his attempt.

    His hand grasped the hilt, he'd done it! Victory was at hand!
    Then, that split second seemed to drag on. Everything around him seemed to be overcast in a blue sheen. There was no screams. No one moved. There was only an eerie-haunting-silence. While he could not move, and still remained in place, he could perceive this single suspended moment. Was this a dream? What was happening?

    Then he heard it. Distant at first, that grew into a crackling-thunderous howl echoing through his consciousness. It was like a series of claws fired through a shaft in his mind. It's terrible voice wracking the walls of his thoughts like knives upon porcelain, amplified to a bellowing roar.

    " Oh.... WHO... IS THAT... WHO SEEKS TO BARE ME!? "

    It's voice was like a violent fissure of telepathic energy ripping apart his brain. The thing was no object. It lived! It still lived. Whatever it was, and now it had seen him... A terrible cacophonous laughing roar ripped through his being. His lungs ached. Sweat began to bead on his brow. A dreadful wave of nausea. The drowning oppressive wave of consternation choked him, as the entity let loose an abominable cackle. It's very voice vociferous blades of energy shattering through him.

    " G'HEHEHEHAHA!

    He could feel it running through his bones. The essence, running through his skin. Invade his body. Pervade his mind... It prickled in his conscious thoughts. He could see flashing images. Terrible things. The crusaders... Avillia... As if forced to re-watch that which was burned into his mind and heart already. He felt the intangible claws reach out, as if to steal his very memo-


    A hand tightly pulled him close, as he crashed into the Steel Princess. The impact caught her flat-footed and unsuspecting. The weight of the charge lifted them both from the ground in a violent clash. She pulled him close to her cuirass protecting him from the fall. With a fierce obstreperous gesture, she whipped her free-arm backwards and back-fisted the fast-approaching stone. The concussive blow unleashed a raucous-ear-splitting crack, that thundered through the plaza, resounding to echo again. Citizens froze and dived to the earth, as if expecting the end of the world had came early. The tremendous force pushed them both back from the fall, hitting the ground in a sitting posture atop Lady Alice and shattered stone.

    She put an arm around the strange man and stood, placing him upon the ground as if she had removed a small child. Standing within the small crater, and seeing the chaos had been quelled by the some-what violent display. She took the opportunity to end this ridiculous chaos once and for all. Stepping back out of the hole, she began to scream proudly across the plaza, piggy-backing on the Numerian's outburst.

    " HAVE YOU ALL GONE MAD!? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHO I AM!?
    THIS CITY, WILL! NOT! FALL!
    I WILL KILL YOUR AGGRESSORS!
    I WILL KILL YOUR ENEMIES!
    I WILL KILL ANY MAN!
    ANY GOD. WHO DARES THINK THEY CAN TAKE THIS CITY! "


    The crowd not missing a beat, and still freshly inspired from the superhuman-feat-of-strength, roared and cheered. How could they have let such fear grip them. How could they have forgotten 'the city's sword'. Some looked down to the ground in shame. She cleared her thought, signaling to the guards and clerics now gathered at the corner of The Capital District.

    "...Now. If you all wouldn't mind. Would you all calmly... "
    " CLEAR THE PLAZA! "

    The crowd began to disperse. The knights, guards and cleric under Lady Alice's command moved in. The bodies of the wounded and dead becoming visible. A long with the wreckage and lost property. She looked to the strange man that had crashed into her. He trembled visibly for some unknown reason. Perhaps it was shocking experience. But he looked well enough, physically anyways. She decided to let him be and recover on his own time. She had work to do. Aid the wounded, caring for the dead, returning the bodies to family...the paper work, uhg, the paperwork. It would be a long night. Thankfully she need not travel far, she'd be within The House of Lords til Wealday-evening she suspected. She looked back one final time at the man before going to tend to her duties.

    " It's a little warm for a scarf... "



    The Plaza; Magnimar - 12:30 PM, Toilday the 15th

    Calm had settled in the plaza. It was unnaturally desolate and quiet. The guards waved others on, directing foot-traffic around the open space. Bodies lay strewn and broken about. Goods, wares, and property lay mostly broken and tattered all about. Lady D'Aritel coordinated the work from the center barking orders, once or twice, then moving towards The House of Lords to fulfill her other duties.

    The guards prevented any individuals in the plaza directing them around it's outer reaches. This would slow the trip to Heidmarch Manor considerably versus when you had been capably of just walkng directly through The Junction, but there was little other choice. It was already half-past noon. It was best not to keep The Society waiting too long.
    Last edited by Mornings; 2014-12-28 at 05:44 PM.

  14. - Top - End - #14
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    The Mad Hatter's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Avaricious:

    The man braces his back up against several of the panicking peasants before raising his eyebrows and awaiting the sensation of shooting forth into the middle of the square, right through the crowd. Sure enough, eventually someone bumps into the individual behind him, giving him enough momentum to make his rushing into her a little more realistic. There, he's coming closer! Closer... About five steps away, he winces as he wonders just how painful slamming into Alice's full plate would be. Oh well, no turning back now! With a growl and a vicious looking grin, he grips the hilt of the large blade with his heated up gloves, already celebrating his victory. As he attempts to pull the sword out of it's sheathe, everything changes. Where there once were the screams and shouts of the people running to and fro throughout the panicked square, there was now silence. As he gazed about, he realized that the artifact wasn't in his hands anymore, and that he was frozen in motion. Desperately, he attempts to run, panicking as his body doesn't seem to respond to what he's telling it to do! Then there was blue, everything so blue, so many shades of that blasted color. There's a terrible sound, a great shout, distant at first but growing louder and louder by the second, each word causing is heart to beat faster and faster, until he felt it's voice rip into his mind, tearing and ripping through him.

    He cannot close his eyes, he cannot hide, for it was all around him. There was something here, something with him, something darker. And as he gazes forward, the man stares into the depths of his own personal hell, watching in horror as his past is flashed in front of him, forced to look, unable to turn away. More and more images pass by, their voices warped and strange, the bodies of the people in the memories ethereal and spectral. Finally, even the images and the crackle of the great fire fade before the terrible sound that is the howl of the creature trapped within the blade. Claws come for him, large and sharp, like spears in the dark coming for him. Avaricious attempts to scream, to escape, anything, but cannot. Finally, as the claws wrap around him and envelope him, something grips him from behind and pulls him away from the terrible dream world. It's Alice, Lady Alice. As he returns to the real world, he'll simply crash down onto the floor, trembling in fear and confusion as his body just puddles down to the ground. Even now that he's returned to the material plane, everything seems so muted, so faint for a good thirty seconds. He looks around as if still in slow motion to see lips moving without sounds, subtle movements without meaning. Then, he blinks a few times and all is normal again. There's yelling and screaming, and it seemed to be that Alice was taking control of the situation.

    She turns to stare at Avaricious and speaks to him, but the bard doesn't respond, simply standing up and nodding, backing away into the crowd once more, making his way to lean his back against a nearby wall. From there, he'll take a deep breath and take a small cloth from his pocket, breathing in the vanilla scent of the pale piece of linen to settle his nerves. Once that is over, he looks over to the right. There was some naked man with a large piece of steel. Who the hell goes to a public place like this in nothing but trousers? Hah. Probably one of those bizarre fire-jugglers or some other carny-type. Carnival performers were the only types of performers Avaricious truly didn't respect. In his mind, simply being born looking funny or being able to do bizarre things to yourself had nothing to do with real talent. The older dhampir steps forward, a little shakily at first, before weaving past the crowd. There's a kiosk right ahead with no one nearby, excellent! And a jewelry kiosk at that. There were several very shiny necklaces about, and probably a strongbox somewhere in the area. Being as disguised as he was, there was no real risk of being caught, at least none that he considered worth passing over the opportunity for. However, he does notice that there are a few guards nearby. Hmm. Ah, he knew just the thing! Most guards wore heavy boots with many laces, and an ability of prestidigitation was the magical power to tie items no more than five feet away. He'd done it before, and was good at his work by now.

    He'll make his way through the crowd, away from the kiosk, going from guard to guard and quietly casting prestidigitation from beneath the scarf and cloak, never looking the guards in the eye. By the end of his detour, several guards probably have their bootlaces tied straight together, which would help him a great deal if he was caught looting the kiosk. With that bit of business done and over with, he'll waggle his fingers in excitement as he finally gazed over the kiosk again. Though he was still quite concerned about what he saw, he put the thought of the great voice and sharp claws that belonged to whatever was in that sword away in the back of his mind, with all the other terrible memories. Now there was just the work. There were several shiny necklaces hanging about, a rack of rings it seemed in a glass case, and probably a strongbox on the other side. He'll rush by the kiosk, attempting to grab every single necklace and stuff them in his pocket, before grabbing the entire glass case on display and stuffing it up his cloak, finishing off the movement by sneaking around the back of the kiosk, looking around for a strongbox to steal, and maybe something shinier kept in the back. (Sleight of Hand: (1d20+5)[18]) Should he fail, the man will grab what he can and run into a nearby alley, before attempting to simply run through the labyrnith of alleyways the large city no doubt had. After all, with the guard's shoes tied magically, how could they catch up with the quick little man?

    On a success, he'll grab what he came fore, stuff it under his cloak, and make his way back to his wagon in the alley, whistling nonchalantly even as his mind races, his thoughts still on the strange things he saw.
    don't click this

  15. - Top - End - #15
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Viridi

    Oblivious to the attempt to take the legendary sword of Lady Alice, the Numerian scans the crowd with a deeper scowl than the one he was wading through it with, as only those nearest to him listen to his words and stop moving. Still, Viridi holds his tongue and opts not to lash out at the cowards for creating such a panic, Useless, stupid pieces of garbage. Instead, though he wasn't paying attention, he heard an apology from the one who'd bumped into him. Turning his face toward the poor unfortunate soul that distracted him from his thoughts of bedding the Lady of Morning, he prepares to begin cursing them out so thoroughly that they end up running in fear too, but of him, not the Seer's words.

    Upon seeing who it was though, and belatedly realizing that what had crashed into him was not a sack filled with coins and a pair of cantaloupes, his initial invective is lost. "By Calistria's honeyed thighs those things are big!" Noticing Alica properly now, and that her impressive bust is still so shapely in spite of the fact that she must be wearing some sort of chain under her dress, the bloodrager's agitation and anger are replaced by a more powerful emotion. Lust, however, does not a gentleman make, and even if the insinuation of his words isn't obvious, the almost bestial desire in his eyes is clear to anyone who can see them as they scan the woman in red's body from head to toe. "I'll let it slide this time, 'cause I have to get to Pathfinder's Lodge at Heidmarch Manor, but if you really want to apologize, come meet me tonight. I've got a big thing that I need help with, and you look like you can handle it. Name's Viridi, I should be easy to find."

    Though those words come out of his lips while Lady Alice begins to shout over the crowd, his thoughts are filled by an even simpler, short term plan. I should rip that little dress off her right now. It wouldn't take a second, and whatever she's wearing under it wouldn't last either. She hit me, there's no reason I shouldn't get a little repayment and take in the sights right now. All it'd take is just a quick grab and---It's then that the words "CLEAR THE PLAZA" snap Viridi's attention to the fact that Lady Alice had done what he failed to do, and the crowd had fallen into sullen, obedient silence as they all slowly made their way out of the plaza. "I guess that's the signal for me to go meet the new boss."

    Spoiler
    Show

    There's a certain entertainment value in playing such a simple character. Wonder if it'll last?

    Anyway, other than waiting for oyzar/Alica's response, Viridi has nothing left to do in the plaza and makes his way toward Heidmarch Manor.
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    Setsuna by Kymme | Desril by Wolfshonor | Eruvia (no background) by Oneris

  16. - Top - End - #16
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    iValkyrieX's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Asiresh blends in with the crowd and makes his way to Heidmarch Manor where he rests for a bit after his long trip.

    Spoiler: Perception
    Show
    Perception on the manor if he makes it that far. (1d20+6)[18]

  17. - Top - End - #17
    Troll in the Playground
     
    GreenSorcererElf

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Alica smiled at what she percived to be a compliment about her bust size. The smoldering hot look he sent her started a fire inside her. She felt moisture start to form between her legs. She avoided rubbing her legs together, she didn't want to let on the effect he had on her He desires me. Such strong, raw, primal passion. I wonder what he intends to do with me. Whatever it is, I am sure I can enjoy it. He seems so capable, so in control. I've been so lonely lately. It would be nice with someone who won't allow me to be lonely. And I am sorry Wayan, you help a ton, but somehow I still feel like there is something missing. No problem hun, I know you can't get all that passion with me nor be able to relinquish control, you are my master.

    Alica's surprise is visible on her face as he reveals his destination. "You are going to the Pathfinder's Lodge? I am a Pathfinder. In fact I am going there right now. Please allow me to accompany you. I guess we can meet up there after each of us are done with our respective business. You want a date as an apology? We can talk while we walk." She moves to grab his arm. She presses herself against it, yearning for skin contact, though finding herself obstructed by their armor. At least she can enjoy drawing in the raw male smell of her new companion. The soft smell of cherry blossoms drift from her carefully tended hair. "What brings a man like you to the Pathfinders? Other than rescuing me from the wild crowd that is?" In truth she had never been in danger, but he had sorta rescued her from her lonelyness within the crowd, if only for a short time.

    As they start walking, Alica silently orders Wayan to stay out of sight, but to follow close behind. Wayan slips in amongst the crowd with ease, carefully avoiding notice while following after the pair.
    Spoiler: Actions
    Show
    Wayan Stealth, take 10 for 23
    Perception to study Viridi, take 10 for 25. What gear does he have etc?

  18. - Top - End - #18
    Titan in the Playground
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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Viridi

    Suppressing the impulse to laugh at Alica's suggestion of a 'date' as way of an apology, Viridi simply smirks and replies "We'll see, but I had something more fun in mind."

    He continues on in a straight line toward Heidmarch Manor as he thinks about her second question. Why did I become a Pathfinder? I was bored. I wanted more than what I could get staying here. "I heard about some monster terror-izing some nearby town until a group of adventurers killed it a few years ago. Figured fighting monsters was more fun than mock battles in the Serpent's Run, and the pay's better too. Plus, I have a little magic in me, I figure I might learn how to use it better if I work with people like the Society."

    Glancing at his side to examine the scrawny, if well-endowed, woman at his side, he decides that it might help to sound interested in her and asks in return, "Whata 'bout you? You look like you belong in some fancy house with servants dressing you. Why're you a Pathfinder?"
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  19. - Top - End - #19
    Troll in the Playground
     
    GreenSorcererElf

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Alica blushes at his comment about something more fun. Surely he could not mean... But obviously he could. So straightforward and honest, so refreshing. I like that. All the courtiers want the same, they just hide it behind pretty words. Do I want to respond to his request though? I got night tea, so... Her mind flees to other matters, postponing the decision. Where are we walking? Straight across the plaza, but there are guards blocking it. He is so confident, not letting any obstacle stop him from getting the fastest path to what he wants. She looks around while keeping her hold on his arm, slightly worried that the guards might accost them.

    Fighting monsters, so brave, beliveing he can take on anything. Me, I just want to help people... He has magic? That reminds me... Of how I came to have to join the Pathfinders. After he has had his say she bites her lip for a moment then looks up at him with eyes filled with a flurry of emotions, anger, sadness and desire. "Magic you say... Magic is actually what got me into this. I didn't have control over my abilities... An accident happened... My sister... could never forgive me... Yes, I am... Was... A noble." She starts sobbing as she talks, nearly breaking down to cry. Not even his presence can keep her happy. Still, she feels relief wash over her at finally sharing her burden. She clutches his arm, wanting someone warm and real to be there for her.

  20. - Top - End - #20
    Troll in the Playground
     
    Mornings's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)


    - The Tragic Villain -


    He recovered quickly from the aweful experience. The tragic experiences of the past haunted him still, yet they forged a strong measure of resilliance in him. He took the memories, the experience, and shoved it in the corner of him mind. Where all the dark-things went.

    Never to miss an opportunity, he saw his next score and was quick to put his plan into motion. A slight strafe-and-gesture later, the guards boot strings were neatly tied into a knot. All too easy. Doubling back on himself, following the newly directed traffic around The Junctions perimeter, he slunk over to the broken kiosk. He moved to make his grab when suddenly..... He heard a sneeze and a crash. Glacing back over his shoulder he saw the guard had apparently tripped himself without any assistance. The other guards pointed and laughed at the ridiculous spectral. The guard waved his hands about in confusion, trying to deflect the blame on The Lady of Morning and rogue spirits, which made the guards burst into heavier laughter. Even some of the passing by citizens began to make prods and jeers. Surely things could not possibly go better then this, aside from perhaps uncovering a massive sack of platinum coins off this merchant's stand.

    With deft and careful hands he worked, shamelessly and without need for clever-steps-and-cover. The rubbernecking passersby made a wonderful wall of flesh blocking out any prying eyes. Rings. Eh, fair enough. Necklaces? cheap. He moved to grab the entire glass display... but it seemed, to simply be unlocked. No need for excess weight. Cracking it open, he ran his hands through and grabbed all of the fancy looking earrings and jeweled hairpieces. Jumping around the back of the shattered wooden stand, he found a small lockbox. Interestingly enough, the box seemed to be worth something itself. An intricate little thing, only a foot long and only four inches in depth. Covered with all manner of inlayed silver arcane markings. You didn't have to be a mage to know money when you saw it. Picking it up, he shook the box to the left of his face once. Hm. Shaking it again on his right side this time. Yup. There was definitely shines in their, something light and valuable. The box didn't weight more then a pound or so itself. The lock appeared frustratingly complex. No time for that right now. Stuffing it it his cloak. He calmly walked down the ally and back to his wagon. Unseen. Unheard. As if he wasn't even their.

    Spoiler: Loot
    Show
    Crude Silver Ring x2 (5gp ea)
    Fake jeweled necklace x3 (5gp ea)
    Ebony Hairpin x2 (25gp ea)
    Fine Garnet Hairclip (15gp)
    Crude Silver Tiara (20gp)
    Arcane Lockbox (???gp)



    - The Hero, The Mistress & The Ancient -

    The burden weighed heavily upon his march. His old bones ached, his back was sore, his legs were heavy, and his rear needed a sit. But those old bones wouldn't fail him now, not yet. He'd been a tough little runt all his life, and tough runts age to tough men. He was a tough man still. He refused to be defeated, even if his trip had suddenly grown in length exponentially, due to the detour the guards had set in place. With a grunt he pressed on, his old-beaten-green stick tapping on the ground helping him divide the weight. He glared at the guards, then glowered at a women passing him. She skidded back in surprise of the mean old man's glare. Bah. He wouldn't let the bothersome little whelps see the sweat on his brow. He watched the rambunctious-meathead-of-a-man stroll into the plaza carelessly. The damned fool. A good thump in the head'll do him right, no doubt. This was nothing but a walk. though his steps were heavy. A leisurely stroll. Though his back ached.

    Perhaps he was getting old.

    Spoiler: The Mistress; Perception - Viridi
    Show

    Alica is able to see the large amounts of steel this man carries. But namely his absurdly large sword and the lack of any armor are the most noticable features. Could a man even wield a blade that large? The logical answer was 'no'. But his confidence and the manner which he wore it, strongly suggested otherwise.


    The guards near by were minorly occupied, still recovering from the entertainment of their fellow's fall. The laughter was dying away as the broad-shouldered Numarian strode through the clearing. One of the guards before him, while still chuckling noticed the man, ; " Ha,he... Sir. Please follow the directing of traffic....Sir? " The man payed him no heed, as if he spoke to a wall, or the man simply viewed him as some minor distraction. The guard directly stood in his path blocking his advance. "Sir, you're not supposta be here! " He almost wanted to laugh at the scrawny little man who attempted to halt his advance. How could this sorry looking fool hope to defend the city, when he couldn't even defend himself? He replied curtly " That's Nice ". Then proceeded to swiftly grab the mans face with a single hand, and throw the man aside. He crashed to the ground in a heap somewhat disappointingly. He had hoped he would have at least fallen like a warrior. The guards begin to cry out issuing loud shouts and warnings as they pull out their clubs. There were six of them, all beginning a slow advance upon the couple. They circled-in, shouting at the pair to surrender and kneel. The odds were not good. Even if he managed to crush these slightly-more-competent looking men, he doubted he would do so unscathed. They inched forward, creeping with careful steps... ready to strike. Never missing a beat, and never one to flinch under pressure, he looked down at the men and bellowed out; "You've got enough problems here without making trouble!" I'm just passing through. If you've got a problem, find me later, I'll be at Heidmarch Manor!"
    The volume and strength of his declaration shook the men visibly. Half of them dropped their clubs and backed away. Cowed by the barbaric-man's dauntless spirit. Fear replaced training, and their rank broke file. He threaded through. He'd lost a small bit of time to that nuisance but it was no matter.

    He walked through the center of the plaza. No guards had moved to stop him again. But he could see a man. A Knight walking from the opposite direction to him. He was clearly a paladin of some sort. His armor fine fitting and worn half-plate over leathers and a ripped noble's half-coat of white and red. A hood of mail and cloth covered his head, his face was strong and stern. Long golden hair was tucked into the chain-cowl, the hard-brown eyes of a true warrior looked back at him. And, this man was a true warrior. He could smell stench of combat radiate from him. The cuts and Knicks in his armor were not from rolling upon the ground. Nor the burns and ware in his leathers. He stopped before the man. This was a warrior worth a good-fight. They stared down one another for perhaps a minute or two, as if sizing up the other's combat-prowess. Viridi was not disappointed. The man was not a wall of muscle, but his lean form was ironed, and refined like a keen weapon. Sharp, and light in his step. No doubt a swift and more tactical warrior. He had a broad and well worn scimitar belted to his him, and a shield and greatsword upon his back. Clearly the man was not all speed, but some strength as well to wield a larger weapon like that. The various light-colored scar-tissue that dotted his face like badges, and a slightly off-centered nose, showed the man could at least take a hit. But as if he sensed the Numerian's battlelust, he spoke. " Press on Pathfinder. We will meet again. Of that, I'm sure. If not at Heidmarch, then at The Summit."

    The man broke the long tension and passed him by. Heh, that had cost him another delay, but it was well worth it. The confidence in his stride as he passed by and cut across the plaza reminded him of someone else. He had the right scent. The scent of a man who lived by the law, that was the reckless-abandon of true combat... He looked forward to the day he would crush him in battle. He pressed on.



    Heidmarch Manor; Magnimar - 12:35 PM, Toilday the 15th

    - The Ancient -

    His old legs had moved with all haste. It had been a rough and difficult trip. The Alabaster District was much finer in scenery and view then the previous places he had seen. The House of Lords, the court of Magnimar he had passed on his track was a magnificent building, a massive building of polished stone, marble and granite. A fitting place for old men to rule on the fate of the poor sod who got caught. Caught doing what he know he shouldn't be doing anyways. The foolish youth needed a strong and stern hand, to show em what-was-what. To show em how cruel the world can be...

    Talking filled his ears as he made his way around the gate of the manor-proper. The property was huge, with a large, fine-steel gate and walk ways leading unto the property. A number of small buildings and storehouses were around the building, with a finely maintained pleasant lawn. Hearing the voices clearly now, he crept.

    "How long does she intend to keep us waiting? She's fortunate her other guests have yet to arrive. What is Miss Azmeren even doing here? Was she not out exploring the Darklands?"
    "She returned early. Something about Thassilonian artifacts she'd uncovered."
    The first voice was of a mans. A solid well spoken gentlemen who was fast becoming impatient. The second was a whimsy-lyrical female voice, that had a sing-song pitch quiet unusual, yet sounded as if it belonged to a child.
    "Well, I do hope they hurry up. I wish to atleast spend my last..... Hour and a half, left living in atleast some minor comfort. Rather then dying out here. "
    " Awh, come-now Andel.... you don't really believe in The Lady do you?"
    "I've seen The Lady's miracles' with my own eyes. She's a true prophet. Yet, soon... her same gift will burn this city. The creeping darkness and spite of the gods will RISE OUT, AND.. RAAAAAAH! "
    Asiresh, quite finished listening to this nonsense, steps out making his way for the door in time to see the man scream and gesture dramatically as if he's some dragonic-fire-breathing-monstrosity. The old man's staff gently crushes a small dried leaf. The almost inaudible sound sends the girl into a fright. She screams like the small child she is. All the while leaping into the air and diving towards the manors bushes in spinning somersault while snapping off two arrows from her shortbow.
    Spoiler: DC 15 Reflex
    Show
    Passed 18


    The maneuver was brilliant for pure reflex. The child had skill, perhaps skill enough to be a great archer one day. But his old practiced eyes saw through the arrows path, as surely as a smith knew the heat of the steel he tempered. With a quick whipping-snap of the wrist. His old staff smacked the arrows off their path, in rapid succession. Then he stuck it back to the earth as if nothing had happened, a quick and blinding motion. The girl looked on, awestruck within the shrubbery, and the tall man's mouth was troublingly-left-agape. He ignored them, as if they were another bothersome shrub in the garden and looked upon the manor.



    Heidmarch Manor was a wondrous place. It portrayed a soft and comforting aura. It's braziers on the property grounds lit in wondrous magical fires, that cast an interesting and wily blue and purple light upon it. Tree's gently hugged the sides of the structure. It was a magical place. A place that had seen many great names and faces, and see many more he imagined.

    He limped to the side where a small ornate stone garden-gnome stood. Looking at the distastful-odd-creature's smiling face, inspired a bitterness in him. He kicked over the disgusting thing. It hit the ground with a sharp 'CRACK'. It's little gnome-head broken off from it's solid-stone-body. He placed down his burden of travel goods beside it, and sat down. Ah. What a good seat. A rest well earned.

    ...And for the first time. In a long time... he smiled.


    Spoiler: Time of Travel
    Show
    If you were in the process of traveling to Heidmarch you arrive shortly after this event. A young girl hides in the bushes in shock. A man stares dumbfounded, both looking at an old man sitting upon a broken Gnome.

    Spoiler: Yet Traveled
    Show
    Those who have yet made their way to Heidmarch may do so during this time, under the assumption they have made way just prior to 12:35PM and will arrive after the following round. Approx time: 2min of travel. (approx distance: House of Lords -> Heidmarch Proper 400ft + 200-300ft crossing plaza.)



    Spoiler: Outside Heidmarch
    Show

    1 SQUARE = 5 FEET
    Black = Asiresh
    Green = Young Girl
    Brown = Man


  21. - Top - End - #21
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Flumph

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    As soon as the children were taken care of, Jeska turned to return to the fray, stopping short upon witnessing the Steel Princess's superhuman strength. After such a display, her aid was no longer needed, as order quickly returned to the plaza. Nonetheless, she lingered in the off chance there was more she could do. However, the Magnimaran guard had it all under control, and she quickly joined the crowd milling about the edges of the plaza. Stopping by a small merchant stand just long enough to get her bearings, she continues her journey to the Heidmarch manor, wondering what it was that she would be required to do.

  22. - Top - End - #22
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    The Mad Hatter's Avatar

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Avaricious:

    With a sickening grin and a dark flash in his eyes, the man slinks his way over to the kiosk, waggling his fingers in anticipation before running his cold hands against the smooth wood, taking in a deep breath. He always breathed particularly deeply before something like this was to happen, it always settled his nerves. Finally, after looking around once or twice, he quickly reaches forward to grab at the largest looking necklace, before a sound behind him startles the thief. He doesn't move away from the kiosk, knowing that the sudden movement would be suspicious, but instead rests his elbow against the counter, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the ground as he waits. Hmm. No one approached him, obviously the ruckus had nothing to do with him! Or did it? Avaricious looks over his shoulder to see one of the buffoonish guards rolling about on the floor, spluttering and blathering on about some kind of evil spirit, hah! "Did I do that?", the man thinks to himself before chuckling darkly under his breath. No, no, now wasn't the time to celebrate! Anything could go wrong here. Avaricious bites his lower lip with his sharp canine fangs, drawing the tiniest bit of blood. It was a habit by now, the little bit of pain keeping his mind on track. Hm, these necklaces looked to be poorly crafted, worth a paltry sum, but it was still something more than he had.

    The three are stuffed into his coat jacket, along with the pair of rings and the hairpins. Those would fetch a bit more than the rest, the shining ebony metal glittering in the light of a nearby torch. The garnet clip and the tiara fallowed suit, the bard strapping the clip and tiara to a system of strings he had rigged in the underside of his coat. He could hang all sorts of things there, hidden from the common man's view. Still, it was disappointing, this haul. On average he'd probably be able to get about a hundred gold pieces all and all, provided he could sell the items at a slightly higher price to whatever fool wanted to buy from him. Avaricious decided he'd wait until the next holiday comes around, where the forgetful people suddenly start getting desperate for a good gift to come by. You'd be amazed how much the average person would pay for something that looks at least a little bit nice around the holidays, when all other shops are closed. With a turn, he glances over the side of the kiosk to see a small box, distracting him from his thoughts of the near future, and of profits to be had. A box? Hm. What kind of box. Magic box? Very, very locked box. With a frown, he taps his chin before shaking it gently beside one ear at a time. Yes, there was something in there, but the runes on each side of the small container seemed inherently magical, which meant that just straight up breaking the box could result in some terrible explosion.

    He glances around quickly for a key, unable to find one. Now he was just so curious! Cursing to himself, Avaricious pockets the box and stares back once more at the guards, rolling his eyes as he sees that the bumbling brigade's still laughing at eachother. It seemed that the dhampir was indeed blessed with the gift of finding the most incompetent guards around. So, he'll solemnly step away from the kiosk, skirting down a nearby alleyway and vanishing into the darkness of the shadowy corridors. He felt at home here in the swirling, festering, labyrinthine maze that was the backstreets and alleyways of Magnimar, the light of the hot sun unable to penetrate the canopies of cloth that covered the alleys, only the occasional patch of light seen. With his fairly good memory, he finds his wagon in as little time as possible, arriving and looking around once more.

    No one around, good. With the twirl of a dexterous finger or two, the dhampir begins unlocking his first chest, wrapping up the stolen jewelry in a shoddy looking blanket. No one would think to check there, right? Still, an actual secret compartment would be most helpful when it comes to hiding things. Perhaps after being paid by the Society for whatever no doubt unpleasant task they had in mind for him to do, he would be able to find some shifty carpenter willing to build one into his chest. Or, he could just get a new one, hm. As he thinks of chests, he drops the magic box into the chest as well, before allowing himself to smile a little. He had done it! Another success. One quiet click later and the chest is locked up. He'll get onto his wagon again before attempting to navigate the city once more, through a way that doesn't lead through the town square.

    Though it may take a little more time, he is in a wagon, and the thief had no intention of getting his cart searched by any particularly bored guardsman.

    ---

    So, he makes his way to the Lodge, whistling as he does so, still in costume, his shades on his face in an effort to shield himself from the sun.
    don't click this

  23. - Top - End - #23
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    Viridi

    It took Viridi a good moment after getting across the plaza to remember the sobbing girl attached to his arm as he had been concentrating on the knight who seemed like he'd be a good challenge. Eventually, however, Alica's tears splashing against his arm caught his attention again and his one track mind thought back to what she said. A noble, eh? Makes sense, most common wenches aren't so busty. Probably crying because she lost all her servants.

    Not bothering to put an arm around her to comfort her, but not taking the arm she latched onto away either, he finally responds to her while ignoring the sobs. "Was? What, you blow up the house? Lit your sister's fancy dress on fire?"


    *****

    At Heidmarch Manor, Viridi sees the little girl hiding in the bushes, too young to be worth the trouble, the young man, looks like a coward, and the old man sitting atop a broken garden gnome, what's a geezer doing here? Not interested in any of the trio, he makes his way past them all and up to the door to try opening it, not bothering to knock or announce himself first.
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  24. - Top - End - #24
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    Asiresh

    As he is resting upon the makeshift seat, from what is left of a fancy garden gnome, he sees the same grunting behemoth of a man with an even larger sword on his back. He remembers this man from the crowd of people and when he bumped into Asir without a word of apology. Despite this rude figure entering into the manors grounds, Asir stays on his makeshift seat. It is not worth the effort of getting up and confronting this brute after such a long journey with so much gear on. He still notices the girl and the man standing there in the courtyard somewhat astonished at his being.

    Spoiler: Perception
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    Perception check on the group of people. (1d20+6)[12]

  25. - Top - End - #25
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    GreenSorcererElf

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    Alica draws stregth from the warm and solid man beside her as they walk. He is like a rock, no what happens he will remain steady and move on. He'll bear any burden without blinking. She calms down by herself, greatly aided by his steady pressence. Of course the support she imagines he is giving her is imaginary, but nontheless it is a great help to her.

    After he pose his question she wipes her tears away and look up at him. "I am sorry, being without those I love for so long has been hard. And no, they are still alive. I didn't blow up anything. I just conjured something that my sister's boyfriend got so scared by that that he fell down the stairs. I didn't even know I could do it before it happened. Not long afterwards someone set me up, making it seem like I had plotted against my own house which caused me to get disowned and banished. I am sure it was my sister, after all she had sworn that she would see me gone from the house. We used to be so close, her and I. I wish there was some way to restore our relationship one day." Somehow she feels like laying everything bare for this man. She is sure he can handle it. The words just streams out of her. She feels great relif flow into her to replace them and calm settles over her. She straightens her back, shooting her breasts forward, and wipes her face ready to face the pathfinders.

    ****

    Once they enter the courtyard and they see the three people there she waves at them with her free hand and says. "Hello there! If one belives the madame out at the plaza, us pathfinders are needed in these troubled times ahead. Maybe Venture Captain Heimarch already got a plan in motion? She follows along with Viridi up the stairs without stopping to chat though.
    Last edited by oyzar; 2014-12-30 at 02:30 PM.

  26. - Top - End - #26
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    - The Ancient -

    Spoiler: Perception
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    Gained awareness of visible equipment. Individuals around him and physical appearances. Perception - [12]

    He scanned the diverse looking group. The barbarian. The Mistress. The Child. The Traveler. An interesting crowd to say the least. Though the thought of entertaining their company urked him. He'd no intention of baby sitting an intolerable man, and a superstitious coward. The child at least appeared to be capable of taking care of herself without being unreasonably bothersome. The arms and armor, the pathfinder title, it all meant nothing to him. They were still troublesome nuisances.

    Spoiler: The Child (Image)
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    Spoiler: The Child (Knowledge; Local - DC20)
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    Knowledge [20] - Passed
    She still looked at his old face out from the bushes. Her bright green eyes were still filled with wonder-and-awe. Her finely made emerald half-cloak and cowl sparked a small fragment of memory in his old mind. The seal and blue feathers finally connected the dots within, and he knew who she was.

    With a swift and nimble movement, she dashed from one shrubbery, to the large bush behind him. It was a well practiced light-step that had probably been missed by those around them. She sat behind the old man, still remaining in the leafy-cover.

    Spoiler: The Emerald Gale; Luka
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    There had always been rumors of Luka. She was something of a myth and rumor since the founding of the Lodge in Magnimar. Sheila Heidmarch and Canayven, her husband. Lived in the manor for some time, yet there were some whispers of a wild-free-willed daughter, left behind. In truth, Luka Heidmarch was a force all her own. She could not stand being in one place too long. Yet the thrill of her bowcraft and battle called her back to Magnimar each year. She entered The Summit under the persona of Emerald Gale. A wandering archer just looking to win the purse. But in truth, she cared little for the prize money. She came each year for the challenge, and during the off-season, she chased her pray all across the Inner Sea, taking dangerous marks from the Society. She did all of this for four years, or so. All without her mother's awareness. She had believed her child was visiting Sandpoint after training in the Sanos Forest with a group of fine rangers she knew in Nybor.

    She would have never known her daughter was wandering the world. Fighting the various dangers it had to offer, using her mother's name to perpetuate her endless hunts. But when she did find out, her mother was furious. It was last years' Steel Summit. The fates had not smiled upon her that day, for she competed against Magnimar's Champion, Lady D'Aritel and her hand-selected team of warriors. Luka always signed on with a band of gruff warriors from Rostland that traveled far to compete in the Organized-Team category of the competition. She signed on with them every year, and they were glad to have her. The young half-elf had made a name for herself as Emerald Gale, the persona became a title. Her snap-shot-style and nimble feet became a commodity that lead to many teams offering her a position. She would sometimes join with other groups if she could not join her friends from Rostland, but it was that year she had found the greatest success. They had made it to The Summit of Fire, a fact that had only been but a dream days before. Unfortunately, The Summit of Fire was a cruel and lethal as the rumors had led her to believe. Though they had completely defeated the knights of Magnimar, and surrounded Lady D'Aritel, victory was not there-own. She crushed many of her friends skulls with her bare hands, not even bothering to strike with her sword.

    Luka knew Lady Alice from times past when the Lodge had been created. Though she hid her face well with her green cowl and scarf, the disguise was destroyed by the force of the princess's sword. Too-swift to be caught, duck, diving ,and sliding, always out of reach. She was forced to resort to more serious measures while being peppered under a constant volley of steel. Once her disguise was gone, all she could do was hide from the spectators view. Alice forced her surrender, and brought the child to her parents where she was forced to confess.

    The Emerald Gale has not been seen since that day. Many unsure where she had gone, expecting the return of the only archer to swift to be caught by the Steel Princess. She still wears her colors, though her appearance has minorly changed. A new wardrobe of fine cloths ready for adventure and battle. A wardrobe her mother intends to ensure never sees use. Luka has been bound to the grounds of the Manor since the day she was discovered by means of magic, until she has learned her lesson. It's been eleven months, but her heart remains wild and free, hungering to return to the world and the hunt.

    Waiting. Watching.... for the chance to make her escape.

    Spoiler: Luka Heidmarch
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    Luka is a young 16 year old half-elf. She does not speak readily to many, and often speaks in a quiet whisper when speaking with her captors (parents), and other pathfinders.

    Luka is not an official Pathfinder, but uses her mother's name as Venture-Captain to make use of the Society's resources.




    She spoke so softly from behind, any man could easily miss it even while this close. He focused on her voice, and attempted to translate the gentle whisper from the child behind him. He had no intention of speaking, that was not the men he was. But he'd listen. Watch. Wait. As he always had.
    Spoiler: Perception DC10
    Show
    Perception [26] - Passed

    "You're him aren't you. The old archer. I know you, mum spoke about you when she thought I wasn't listening. She said you were a hunter of sorts, but you're not.... You're not a hunter. You are the hunt. You follow it like I do. Like i did... I can tell. You're like me."



    The Pathfinders (Heidmarch Manor)

    Hello there! If one belives the madame out at the plaza, us pathfinders are needed in these troubled times ahead. Maybe Venture Captain Heimarch already got a plan in motion?
    The young man had recovered with the passing of the large Numerian. He was sure he must have had a grandly-preposterous look on his face while they passed. The words finally sunk in. Oh... oh! He spoke up at the couple standing infront of the Manor's door. The large man shaking the handle seeing it was locked.

    "Ah. Hello there! Welcome to Heidmarch Manor and all that! I'm Andel Gesseran, a chronicler for Venture-Captain, Sheila Heidmarch. You must be the new adventurous-lot she mentioned. There should be a few more of you..." He glanced around, and down the walkway past the gate, as if looking. "Ah, and this is..... " He glanced back at the empty bush and grumbled. "Uhhg... not again. In anycase, the summons should have included all of you, and two more. From what I've been told, you should all be involved in the same endeavor. " He looked to the old man, the lady, and the warrior. "I can't say what you all bring to the team..... except maybe you perhaps.." He looked at the mans massive bastard sword. "But whatever the case may be, you've all been chosen by the Captain's hand..... Unfortunately, she's alittle..." The sound of something being thrown to the door and shattering echoed from the inside, and then frustrated bickering shouts back and fourth. Andel shook his head. "Abit... preocupied with other guests at the moment.... I'm not sure how long the wait shall be, so perhaps it's best to meet your fellow Pathfinders while you wait?"

    Spoiler: Andel Gesseran (Image)
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    Spoiler: Heidmarch Manor Map (Image)
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    KEY - 1 SQUARE = 5 FEET
    -Black: Asiresh
    -L. Green: Child
    -Brown: Andel
    -Green: Viridi
    -Purple: Alica



    Spoiler: Heidmarch Manor OOC
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    Players traveling to the manor still finally arrive just following this encounter. The child is no where to be seen. (Perception - to locate her well hidden hiding-spot in the large bush behind the old man.)
    Last edited by Mornings; 2014-12-31 at 07:04 AM.

  27. - Top - End - #27
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    Viridi

    Hm...probably killed the kid if they were that mad. So, her sister's single then. I'll have to find her later and see if those things run in the family. Pity she lost her nobility though, all that money could be useful and if she's this clingy already... That line of thought eventually gave him an idea about how to solve Alica's problem just before they made it to the Manor. Or rather more accurately, with Viridi's mind being what it is, an idea on how to get what he wanted and maybe what she wanted as a side benefit.

    "Once we finish up whatever this job is for the Pathfinder's, let me meet your sister. Maybe I can fix the problem with her."

    *****

    At the Manor, he grunts in annoyance at the door being locked and the announcement of a delay, figuring he should've followed after the Lady of Morning after all. In the end though, he drops with an unceremoniously loud thud unto the steps in front of the door and looks around at those already gathered with a confused expression.

    "Alright, I'll ask it. You look pathetic, but at least you can hold a sword, so I'da understood if you were going with us on whatever this is," he says looking at Andel. "But what's with the old man and the kid? He don't look like a mage, and she's too young to do any fighting. 'm I supposed ta be their body guard on whatever this is, or did we get these letters at random?"

    Spoiler
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    Just because, Perception to hear what the fight inside is about (1d20+5)[9]

    A 16 year old half-elf, so that makes her, what, about 12 in human terms?
    Last edited by Desril; 2014-12-30 at 06:33 PM.
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  28. - Top - End - #28
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    Avaricious:

    He stalks the streets like one of the many rats that scatter here and there in the light of day, a wolf dressed in finery, a man with more masks than the average theater, and secrets enough to fill many-an-ear for many-a-day. His boots splash in a puddle of grimy water, his reflection warping as he glanced into the water for a slip second. Now, here was a left, then a right, following a circle around the Butcher's Shop. The dhampir made his way around the innermost workings of the city with ease, knowing each sleazy location like the back of his hand. It wasn't that he liked hanging around the places, hell, he hated it. However, drunkards and addicts tend to be the easiest people to rob, or manipulate. Still, every once in a while there was an unfortunate glimmer of sympathy when the older half-vampire witnessed something truly horrible going on, a glimmer that represented whatever humanity he had left. It was a glimmer he'd come to despise, for the guilt he felt truly weighed on him. Though he did things like lie, cheat, and steal, the man was still shocked by the things he'd witness in the darkest cesspools of the city. Although Avaricious had seen a lot, one such occasion truly stuck with him, though he rather wished it wouldn't. With a blank look on his weathered but attractive face, he recollects what he had seen months ago, in a darker part of the city.

    He had rounded the corner that day, making his way far from the marketplace he was visiting at the time, just to find himself walking into a section he'd never been to before. Before Avaricious could turn back and check the map of the city he'd scribbled up, he was distracted by the sight ahead. There was a woman, young but tired looking, bags on her eyes, with hair wet in the rain but greasy too, the look of a woman who'd fallen on hard times. She was with her back against the wall, and three men were facing her. They seemed violent, and between the ragged look of their patchwork clothes and bloodshot eyes, Avaricious's suspicion that these were thugs of the most unpleasant kind were confirmed. Luckily, the bard was in peasant's clothing this day, in disguise of course. He'd been scouting out a stall beforehand, after all. It was a good thing for him to look like just another lower-class citizen, for had he been in his noble's vestment, chances are he would have been attacked by the three. While Avaricious may have been lucky, the woman was not. The bard froze as he heard what was being said. There was something about the woman's husband owing the three a substantial amount of gold, one hundred pieces, to be exact. Avaricious didn't know why, but he figured it was something unsavory, for these were dangerous looking men. As the three approached her, one of them noticed his presence.

    Again, Avaricious didn't remember exactly what was said, so dream-like was the experience. Something about being told to stay away if he knew what was best for him. All three were glaring at him now, and the woman stared at him pleadingly, but didn't speak for fear of being slapped by one of the thugs. One hundred pieces, that was all she needed. The bard remembers thinking about his wagon, and the gold stored within, one hundred and four pieces. He could pay off the debt here and spare her, all it would take was a few minutes walk to the wagon and back. He was shouted at again, this time more aggressively. Avaricious panicked, not knowing what to do, not willing to part with the gold he had. That gold was going towards something more, something greater than himself, greater than the well-being of a stranger to him. Wasn't it? With a blink of his eye and a quiver of his lip, Avaricious turned his back on the scene that day, walking off into the opposite alley as he heard her start screaming at him, shouting at him to call the guards, and calling him a bastard when he kept on walking silently. He remembered the laughing of the thugs as he walked away, and the muffled tone of the woman's voice as a large hand belonging to one of the three found it's way over her mouth. It was a sad memory, one of the only times of his life where he questioned himself. He walked away, and to this day knows not what befell the woman, whether she was killed, whether she lives.

    Finally, he looks over and sees the lodge ahead, it's gates open and vibrant, yet still somewhat intimidating to him. He ceases his musings of past regrets and casts prestidigitation once more, cleaning his shoes and dirtied socks with a waggle of his gloved fingers. He was dressed in his finest, a blue and gold coat of the finest quality covering a brilliant white vest with silver patterning, buttons of silver and sleeves of the same gold color making the coat seem all the more regal. Gloves of the same white material covered his smooth and somewhat spidery hands, trousers of the richest brown cloth, dark as chocolate, cover his legs and hips. A leather belt topped with a buckle of shining platinum straps his pants up, the codpiece built into the pants hidden a bit by the flaps of his shining white vest. By his feet, his white socks and black shoes can be seen, completing the attire. Some ends here and there were frayed, but all in all he looked to be a man of good taste, and certainly a man with a lot of gold to spend on clothing. As he steps forward through the gates of the lodge, he catches the end of Viridi's conversation, going from his somewhat morose look to a more official one. There's a mischievous smile on his face, and one eyebrow is raised higher than the other. This was his most charismatic face, and the man knew it well, he'd practiced for hours on stage, or in the mirror he owned. He'd play the role of the fool, the fop well.

    Quote Originally Posted by Desril View Post
    "Alright, I'll ask it. You look pathetic, but at least you can hold a sword, so I'da understood if you were going with us on whatever this is," he says looking at Andel. "But what's with the old man and the kid? He don't look like a mage, and she's too young to do any fighting. 'm I supposed ta be their body guard on whatever this is, or did we get these letters at random?"

    A voice can be heard from behind Viridi. "They are here, Master Swordsman, because there are certain people who's skill sets and abilities can accomplish far more than that chunk of metal you've got strapped to your back there." The bard speaks rather tongue-in-cheek, although there is a bit of truth in his statement. With the walk of a dancer and the looks of a lead actor, albeit a pale one, the charisma that the nobleman boasts makes itself apparent. Although this side of him is mostly a mask, at his heart Avaricious is still quite a man of elegance and nice things. Avaricious flashes a smile, pulling a satin cloth out of his sleeve and rubbing it across his forehead. "Ugh, I simply must get out of this heat. So much excitement in the square today, hah." He'll make his way past Viridi, not even bothering to look towards him, instead settling his gaze on Alica. Hmm. She was dressed fairly well, what was a woman doing around the arm of a barbaric looking man like the warrior? He doesn't give it any more thought for now, instead clasping his gloved hands together and addressing Andal Gesseran. "So!"

    "There was adventure to be had, sirrah?"
    Last edited by The Mad Hatter; 2014-12-31 at 03:14 AM.
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  29. - Top - End - #29
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    Asiresh

    As he sits there awaiting to see if there are others to arrive on the grounds of the manor, he hears a soft and subtle voice, that of a child. That of Luka Heidmarch, The Emerald Gale.

    "You're him aren't you. The old archer. I know you, mum spoke about you when she thought I wasn't listening. She said you were a hunter of sorts, but you're not.... You're not a hunter. You are the hunt. You follow it like I do. Like i did... I can tell. You're like me."
    "You speak as if you truly know who I am. I am nobody to you, simply just an old man whose existence is in question as to why I am here. I will say one thing in fact, you don the colors of the hunt so you must know this." Asiresh puts his left hand out towards the little girl, palm facing up to reveal the holy symbol of Ketephys. "This is who I am, nothing more than that."

    He stops himself there, he had never expected to find another hunter of the sorts, here of all places. His mind wonders off to a time long ago once more, he sees himself welding a crude longbow with a single arrow... "You shouldn't be here Asiresh." "You know why I'm here...you brought this upon yourself Jaroosh." As they speak, thunder rolls in the background and it starts to drizzle as it the storm clouds pass over there small town. "I am your best friend, you wouldn't dare do this to me." "Do you doubt what I would do to avenge my fallen master? YOU KILLED HIM JAROOSH! This must be done" Asiresh pulls the drawstring of the longbow back, and releases the arrow. It strikes Jaroosh straight through the heart and he falls to the ground in a pool of blood, mud and rain water.

    He slowly recovers from the sudden flashback and brings his hand to the leather cord around his neck to make sure that it was still there. It was. The leather cord had been home to a "trophy" off his first kill, a tooth from Jaroosh.

    As he looks up he just glares at the brute of a man on the steps after he questions his being here as well.
    Last edited by iValkyrieX; 2014-12-31 at 04:56 AM.

  30. - Top - End - #30
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    GreenSorcererElf

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    Default Re: Morning's Shatter Star (IC)

    Back before they actually arrived she replied. “If you could reunite me with my family I would be eternally grateful and would do whatever you wanted in return. I am not sure if speaking with my sister would alone be enough though. Dad is the one who decides things in the family and he would be the one able to absolve my disownment.

    ********

    Alica was ecstatic to hear that she would actually get to team up for Viridi. She smiled widely at the news. I will get to spend more time with him. It is also reassuring to know that he will be there to protect me. He seems so capable and confident. We will get to know each other better. Maybe I can even sneak into his heart? She blushed at the last thought.

    The summoner listened to the others as the thoughts of her future raced through her mind. She found that something was lacking and decided to speak up. Alica let go of Viridi’s arm and took a short step away before opening her mouth. “I am looking forward to working with all of you. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we should all be introduced. I am Alica Derexhi.” She did a short curtsey before holding out her hand towards the bush on the other side of where Luka was hiding. “And this is my companion Wayan.” On cue, Wayan stepped out of hiding and tossed back her hood, revealing a head hidden in shadow with glowing yellow eyes. “It is great to see someone almost as good at hiding as myself” Wayan said with a nod towards the bush where Luka was hidden. Alica continued unfazed. “This great swordsman beside me is Viridi. I assume I am here for my magic and my abilities to work with outsiders. Sadly, I do not carry the full weight of my father’s organization behind my back though. Now who do I have the pleasure of working with?” She looked around at the others, studying them, trying to figure out. She waved towards Asiresh. “You are not nobody to us, at least not if we are to work together. A name to call you by would be nice.

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