Soulbound 5e (IC)

[miinstrel]

Spoiler: Bijou

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The last day and night on Marlette's cart en route to the next town were somber. You've done all you can, but fiery sweat still bubbles from her father's brow as he lays shivering in the back. Marlette seems to welcome the company despite having just met you outside town going the same direction, and you appreciate the ride, though your mule seems unphased, hitched to the back.
They don't have much, but Marlette hopes to trade the pommel jewel of her grandfather's sword to the cleric there for a cure for her ailing father. You're unsure if he'll make it until you arrive tomorrow.
A bump in the road lifts you from your seat and releases a groan of agony from the back.
It's midday, just past noon. Ahead you see some other travelers stopped near the road. Looks like five figures with two horses and a cart of their own. As you approach, one of them mounts a horse and walks it into the road, blocking your path. Now what are two beauties like you doing out on a dangerous road like this all alone?"
Marlette seems nervous and glances at the back of the cart, though whether at her father or the sword you're unsure.

What do you do?

Spoiler: Folgarda

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The salty water draining from your sleeves seems to take the last of your strength with it. You roll onto your back, never before so grateful to be lying on an uncomfortable, rocky beach. The ocean has already swallowed any hint of your ship's existence, as calm as any other day - just another victim of the waves.
You take stock of your equipment. Unlocking the chest where you hope to find some of the documents, you instead find a small orange fish enjoying a personal swimming pool gradually darkening with dissipating ink.
At least there is still sunlight. For now. You have a few hours before dark.

What do you do?

Spoiler: Leviticus

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You were sure you had him. His sleeves were up and elbows were on the table, so where did the ace come from? It's impossible. You counted. But this is not your home turf... and that was the last of your coin... and your monthly debt payment of 30g to Olibar is due tomorrow. If it's late again it'll be your hide.
"Better luck next time kids," the middle-aged dwarf crows, his calloused fingers sliding everyone's bets toward him. One of the other two slumps back in frustration and re-ups. The other rises and moves toward the tapped keg in the corner. "ah ah, you've had your free fills already," one of the muscled observers warns, holding out an expectant hand. The thirsty patron of this back room establishment drops yet another precious coin into his hand and fills his mug.

It's late and yours is the last table still playing tonight. You've no more coin for the ante. Is it time to call it a night or do you have one more angle to try with these cheats?

OOC: Deduct all coins from your sheet. You still have your other equipment.

Spoiler: Silvia

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"The gardens nearly match your beauty. Nearly," flatters this gentleman introduced as Bayrd earlier today, beckoning you from the carriage with an open hand to help you down the step. "Light a fire at the outdoor hearth," he commands a tailored servant who scurries off into the approaching night.
As though it weren't even a choice, he slides your hand into the crook of his arm and begins walking down the path on the side of the house. Bayrd draws a stick from his jacket, a wand apparently, waving it in the air and muttering some nonsense before a few small globes of pale blue light spiral out and set themselves along the path before you to light the way. He smiles at you, clearly impressed with himself.
You arrive at the back of the house to a large stone patio dimly lit by the crackling yawns of an awakening fire. Though the light is fading now, you're sure the dawn will bring some lovely hues to the garden behind the house.
"I do hope you'll be staying for some time. There are... many beauteous things to paint and fulfill your every desire."

Spoiler: Valara

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It's been four days, but you're still reeling from the discovery. The girls you rescued were no less shaken, and their tearful family reunions brought both warmth and emptiness to your heart as you realized you'll likely never have that again.
There's one person you knew you could turn to for help: the love of your life. He's opened an unused building his family owns for you to hide in while you collect what assets you can. You know the longer you stay the more danger he is in, but leaving means leaving the city and him behind... possibly for good. Or at least until you can develop a plan.
You still have other friends here, but if you ask the wrong one it could lead straight back to your family. Time is short.

Do you stick around another day to gather more resources or allies? Take a swing of retribution at your family? Leave town now and plan your next move?

OOC: What's your lover's name? Tell us a little about him.

[TriciaOso]

The last day and night on Marlette's cart en route to the next town were somber. You've done all you can, but fiery sweat still bubbles from her father's brow as he lays shivering in the back. Marlette seems to welcome the company despite having just met you outside town going the same direction, and you appreciate the ride, though your mule seems unphased, hitched to the back.
They don't have much, but Marlette hopes to trade the pommel jewel of her grandfather's sword to the cleric there for a cure for her ailing father. You're unsure if he'll make it until you arrive tomorrow.
A bump in the road lifts you from your seat and releases a groan of agony from the back.
It's midday, just past noon. Ahead you see some other travelers stopped near the road. Looks like five figures with two horses and a cart of their own. As you approach, one of them mounts a horse and walks it into the road, blocking your path. Now what are two beauties like you doing out on a dangerous road like this all alone?"
Marlette seems nervous and glances at the back of the cart, though whether at her father or the sword you're unsure.

Bijou scans the area, taking stock of the trouble on her road and the surroundings. (Perception (1d20+3)[22]) She slips off her coat--letting it drape over her walking stick, six feet of knobbled blackthorn--and arranges her face into a smile, smooth as any performance. She touches Marlette's arm, lightly, and prays the girl has the wits to follow a cue.

"Hoping and praying for some young bravos like yourselves, sure enough. We've a sick man here, and if one of you could bring a doctor from Enfield Town on that swift horse, we could surely repay your trouble when we make town ourselves and sell our goods. Grateful we'd be, indeed." She doesn't have the voice--or the body--to sell it the way her mother could have, to imply and insinuate they might get their reward without having to take it by force, but she gives it what spin she can.

(Persuasion or Deception--same roll (1d20+4)[10])

[Ramsus]

Silvia Rose Human Artist (for the moment) AC: 12 HP: 27/27 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Silvia happily lets Bayrd take her arm as she smiles with appreciation of his magical display and the environs, and of course the compliment. She's certainly seen more impressive magic in the courts of royals and nobles, but she has no talent with it herself and appreciates the beauty of the display here. As she takes a seat near the fire, she gives him a smile and replies, "I'm glad to hear it Bayrd, though I can see already it is the gardens I will start with. Is it just the two of us this evening?" She avoids answering how long she'll be around for, as she knows many can't help but view others as their personal possessions and dislike being reminded that she will go when and where she wills.

[Michael7123]

The salty water draining from your sleeves seems to take the last of your strength with it. You roll onto your back, never before so grateful to be lying on an uncomfortable, rocky beach. The ocean has already swallowed any hint of your ship's existence, as calm as any other day - just another victim of the waves.
You take stock of your equipment. Unlocking the chest where you hope to find some of the documents, you instead find a small orange fish enjoying a personal swimming pool gradually darkening with dissipating ink.
At least there is still sunlight. For now. You have a few hours before dark.

What do you do?

Folgarda coughs up saltwater before deeply inhaling, gasping for breath. The last thing she remembered was clinging onto a large piece of driftwood created from the ship's destruction when it shattered after capsizing. No ship could have survived that hellish storm, and certainly not a longboat. They had never intended to stray that far from the shore, but the winds had swept them away. Try as they might, there was nothing that could have been done.

For a brief moment, Folgarda entertains the possibility that the gods have given her a miracle when she notices the chest, yet despair washes over her when she sees only a fish inside. At least the jawbone strings that her father had given her lies in the sand off to the side.
Dozens of thoughts vied for Folgarda's attention as she took a deep breath and tried to get her bearings. Help or Shelter. Find it. Everything depends on you now.

She still had a few hours, and after taking a brief moment to toss the fish back into the sea to save it from a slow and painful death from ink poisoning, Folgarda took stock of her surroundings- if only to distract herself from the weight of the responsibility now resting solely upon her shoulders.


(1d20+3)[20] Perception Check Any survivors (as if), anything in the sand nearby, any signs of inhabited lands nearby?

(1d20+2)[13] Survival Check Where in the world am I? What way is North? What way would be vaguely towards my ultimate destination?

Spoiler: On the instrument

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I just have always envisioned the character with that somewhat crudely made bone musical instrument on hand. If you'd prefer, I can cut that part out.

[bladescape]

You were sure you had him. His sleeves were up and elbows were on the table, so where did the ace come from? It's impossible. You counted. But this is not your home turf... and that was the last of your coin... and your monthly debt payment of 30g to Olibar is due tomorrow. If it's late again it'll be your hide.
"Better luck next time kids," the middle-aged dwarf crows, his calloused fingers sliding everyone's bets toward him. One of the other two slumps back in frustration and re-ups. The other rises and moves toward the tapped keg in the corner. "ah ah, you've had your free fills already," one of the muscled observers warns, holding out an expectant hand. The thirsty patron of this back room establishment drops yet another precious coin into his hand and fills his mug.

It's late and yours is the last table still playing tonight. You've no more coin for the ante. Is it time to call it a night or do you have one more angle to try with these cheats?

That... didn't add up. He knew how to count, old Sev made sure he did. He'd been doing this for years, thought the old Dwarf just had the hot run going but now he's digging gold from who knows where.

"Sure you didn't have that ace up your sleeve?" Leviticus chuckles along with his 'joke', his eyes glancing around as the fingers rap the table in front of him in thought. As he waited for the response, he turned over the options in his mind, letting the drum of his fingers help his concentration.

He could bet up with his belongings, but that veered dangerous territory. Especially against one who is likely a cheater. He memorised the Dwarf's face as he considered, the flickering of his fingers on the table his only motion.

(OOC:
(1d20+7)[15] Insight check to confirm the Dwarf's reaction. - As an Inquisitive Rogue I count any roll under 8 on an insight check to be 8)

[miinstrel]

Spoiler: Bijou

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"Sick man, eh?" the mounted fellow trots up alongside your cart and peers in, his aged leathers creaking a bit with the movement. Scanning him and the others you note everyone is armed in some way, and the one standing behind the cart has his eyes focused at his waist while he works something with his hands. You hear the 'click' of a crossbow being loaded. Looking at the cart you notice one of the interior walls displays a blood stain.

"I hear there's an ogre round these parts lately. Dangerous ride all the way to Enfield, day out, day back.. thinking pre-payment is in order." One of his buddies chuckles. Three of the other men casually fan out a bit, all moving your direction, the one by the cart stays where he is.

"Oooh, this is nice," the apparent leader adds, noticing the jeweled sword on the other side and moving his horse around toward it. If you're quick you could grab it before him.
"Please, that's all I have to pay the priest," Marlette begs. "Don't matter if you don't make it there, does it?" he sneers. "What else ya got on ya?"

Spoiler: Folgarda

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The fish panics at first in your hands but calms upon return to the sea, vanishing quickly in the direction of your shipwreck.
Scanning the water you see two shadows drifting on the waves a couple hundred feet off shore. Neither appears to be moving of its own accord, and after waiting a few minutes for them to get closer you confirm it's just driftwood, possibly a plank from your ship but Aleister seems to have already claimed whatever passenger it may have once held.

The beach itself is rocky in both directions and rises gradually toward a dense conifer forest. You stand on a northern shore based on the sun's position. Your destination was a western shore, so you deduce you need to move S/SW. A lift in the forest canopy seems to indicate a hill where you might gain a better vantage point. You could go straight through the forest to try and get to the hill before the light fades or try to make your way there by going down the beach which, while more open, would likely take a bit longer. Or do you plan to camp here for the night?

Spoiler: Leviticus

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The dwarf narrows his eyes suspiciously for just a fraction of a second before retorting, "I always have an ace - it's called a half century of reading the faces of desperate youngsters like you. You're all either sad and lonely, or in deep to the wrong guy, or addicted to loss." His stubby fingers shuffle the cards with expert precision. "But it's late and I ain't got the energy I used to. He's willing to lose one more," he gestures to the fellow next to you. "You joining him?"

OOC: You're pretty certain he cheated, but the logistics of the stunt still elude you. His response seems to be a front as he studies you.

Spoiler: Silvia

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"This evening yes. I've more guests arriving tomorrow for a little soiree - some art enthusiasts, a few friends, nothing extravagant. I've heard you prefer more... intimate gatherings. But I wanted some time alone first to get to know the woman behind the easel as it were." A light breeze rolls along the house, making the flames dance and sending a light shiver through your bones - a preview of the chill the coming autumn will bring. "Are you cold?"

Without waiting for the answer, he steps through a door behind you and disappears for a minute. His footsteps return to the back of your chair, a knitted blanket draping around your shoulders. He pushes the blanket forcefully forward around your body. His heavy hands still clutching the blanket's edge drift down toward your waist, his face pressing against the back of your hair, the weight of his chest bearing down upon your shoulders.

Spoiler: Valara

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You take some time to ponder your next move, starting a fire in the hearth to combat the wintery air trying to force its way inside. The dry wood roars to life sending dancing shadows across the walls and making the room feel a great deal larger and emptier than it might otherwise. You stare into the flames, praying for the courage to face this challenge.

You hear what might be an airy exhale from near the front door, but you didn't hear it creak open as you did when you first arrived.

[TriciaOso]

[spoiler=Bijou]"Sick man, eh?" the mounted fellow trots up alongside your cart and peers in, his aged leathers creaking a bit with the movement. Scanning him and the others you note everyone is armed in some way, and the one standing behind the cart has his eyes focused at his waist while he works something with his hands. You hear the 'click' of a crossbow being loaded. Looking at the cart you notice one of the interior walls displays a blood stain.

"I hear there's an ogre round these parts lately. Dangerous ride all the way to Enfield, day out, day back.. thinking pre-payment is in order." One of his buddies chuckles. Three of the other men casually fan out a bit, all moving your direction, the one by the cart stays where he is.

"Oooh, this is nice," the apparent leader adds, noticing the jeweled sword on the other side and moving his horse around toward it. If you're quick you could grab it before him.

"Please, that's all I have to pay the priest," Marlette begs.

"Don't matter if you don't make it there, does it?" he sneers. "What else ya got on ya?"

Bijou sighs, and tightens her fingers on Marlette's arm. "They're robbing us, darling," she says quietly. "It's not up for a vote. These things happen--and worse things it could have been." She allows him to take the sword, and gestures back towards the mule.

"Musical instruments," she says sourly to the leader, dark eyes flashing. "Costumes. The crowns are painted wood, not gold. Some puppets, give you joy of them. And the rings from my bloody ears if it will move this along. He's dying, and that's no story. Be a thief if you're a thief, but don't be a bastard."

[RossN]

Valara

Valara's blue eyes were heavy, uncharacteristic worry lines on her normally smooth forehead. Thus far in her twenty years the worst the young noblewoman had faced in her life was the headache from the aftermath of a night's overindulgence with her friends. Being a refugee from her own family and way of life had not been part of her plan, in so much as she ever had a plan beyond having the finest clothes and the newest hairstyle. As she wrapped her expensive red cloak around her Valara wished she'd paid a little more attention to her tutors.

Her thoughts turned to Lyrian and the blonde allowed herself a smile thinking of the handsome young noble with his dark hair, green eyes and rakish beard, his love of his hunting falcons and sense of adventure. She could almost conjure his image in the flames. It was of course a perfect scandal given the bad blood between her family and his, but that seemed a touch less important now given the presence of out and out fiend worship in her families.

Blinking at the sound of an in-drawn breath when she had thought herself alone Valara whirls around, red cloak flipping. "Who's there?"

[bladescape]

The dwarf narrows his eyes suspiciously for just a fraction of a second before retorting, "I always have an ace - it's called a half century of reading the faces of desperate youngsters like you. You're all either sad and lonely, or in deep to the wrong guy, or addicted to loss." His stubby fingers shuffle the cards with expert precision. "But it's late and I ain't got the energy I used to. He's willing to lose one more," he gestures to the fellow next to you. "You joining him?"

OOC: You're pretty certain he cheated, but the logistics of the stunt still elude you. His response seems to be a front as he studies you.

"Well, if I were a desperate enough youngster I'd spend the coin to see how you pulled that trick. But I haven't the coin to waste these days." Levi drains the rest of the mug he'd nursed the entire time in here, taking full advantage of the free alcohol without overdoing it. Drunk and gambling is how you can lose everything all over again, and Levi had already been there and done that. There was the niggling in the back of his head that told him provoking the men around him was a bad idea, but the Gambler also knew that entering anything with no confidence was a surefire way to lose ground...

And he'd already committed the first shots.

"Gentlemen. Rest easy in Edra's light. Careful with your gold now." The last words were more an aside to the man next to him, as Levi stood up on slightly unsteady feet.

[Michael7123]

The fish panics at first in your hands but calms upon return to the sea, vanishing quickly in the direction of your shipwreck.
Scanning the water you see two shadows drifting on the waves a couple hundred feet off shore. Neither appears to be moving of its own accord, and after waiting a few minutes for them to get closer you confirm it's just driftwood, possibly a plank from your ship but Aleister seems to have already claimed whatever passenger it may have once held.

The beach itself is rocky in both directions and rises gradually toward a dense conifer forest. You stand on a northern shore based on the sun's position. Your destination was a western shore, so you deduce you need to move S/SW. A lift in the forest canopy seems to indicate a hill where you might gain a better vantage point. You could go straight through the forest to try and get to the hill before the light fades or try to make your way there by going down the beach which, while more open, would likely take a bit longer. Or do you plan to camp here for the night?

Folgarda scans across her surroundings with a scowl. A small corner of her mind rebuked herself for not waking sooner, that maybe, just maybe there could have been another survivor she may have been able to help. But that was folly, and she knew it. She was not an amazing swimmer, and her survival had been an act of the gods, not any of her own making.

The dwarf pulled out her axe and clutched it close to her chest as she made her way to the hill on the forest. She was not going to let herself simply get mauled to death by some random bear, but she had to get a better vantage point sooner. With luck, from there she’d be able to

How long will it be till my family knows that I have not yet fallen? The thought came unbidden as she walked past the tree line. It was possible that she could pass a letter along with a ship northbound, if she was lucky.

But if you were lucky, then you wouldn’t be here, would you? But if you were not lucky, you’d just have drowned. Folgarda let’s be mind mull over that contradiction as she begins her walk through the woods, hooing it served as a distraction to the far more existential worries she had.

She could let herself break down when she was just a bit safer.

[roll]1d20+1[/roll] survival check looking for dry / dead wood in the forest, just something I could potentially get some sort of fire going with if need be.

[roll]1d20+1[/roll] stealth check just trying to stay out of trouble and out of sight, if possible.

[Michael7123]

Spoiler: Actually correctly formatted dice rolls!

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Don’t know why those last ones didn’t work but let’s try this again.

Survival: (1d20+1)[13]

Stealth: (1d20+1)[3]

[Ramsus]

Silvia Rose Human Artist (for the moment) AC: 12 HP: 27/27 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- She'd been about to reply in the negative when Bayrd left. "Ah. This." she thought to herself as he pressed himself against her. "Very gentlemanly of you Bayrd." she said, looking him in the eye and hoping he would get the hint that she wished him to continue being a gentleman this evening. "Getting to know each other sounds lovely, perhaps over supper?" she suggested, trying to reinforce the quashing of any romantic developments so soon.

[miinstrel]

Spoiler: Bijou

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"Straight to the point, I like that." he leans over and lifts the sword from the cart, holding it up for a quick inspection before sliding it into his belt. One of the other fellows rifles through your mule's saddlebag and glares at you disapprovingly. "Keep yer toys, but we'll take the gold in yer ears. Since ye offered."

A thin whistle moving through the air catches your attention, and you turn to see an arrow fly past your little assembly, embedding itself in the grass a few feet behind your cart. There, coming down the road ahead of you, ride two armored figures, their horses clad in the king's colors. "Begone bandits!" one shouts across the small clearing. The thief with the crossbow moves around to the near side of their cart for cover and looses a bolt northward toward the pair riding toward you, but misses and begins to load another. The one inspecting your mule steps behind your cart for cover. The one on the horse draws his new prize and yells "$#@&, time to move, gents!"

As the skirmish erupts, Marlette looks back at her father and then at you with determination in her eyes. Her fingers coiling tightly around the reins.

Spoiler: Folgarda

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The salty sea air keeps the underbrush sparse at first, but it soon thickens into a noisy swath of ferns. Silence is nigh impossible, though you are able to find a sizable bundle of dry kindling as you make your way. The darkness settles in faster than expected under the dense canopy, but you do notice the ground starting to rise bringing with it fresh aches in your legs with each step.

You're nearly to the top when a piece of wood snaps off to your left. You freeze, every sense suddenly heightened. Silence. Stillness. You continue forward more quickly until you hear the same sound a few minutes later, closer this time. You look again. Nothi-- no, there! A hundred feet away a gray-ish shape hunkers down against a bush. Shaggy fur, a pointed face. A wolf stalks you. There will be others.

Spoiler: Leviticus

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The goon near the exit stairs tenses at your initial quip but a brief visual exchange with the dwarf settles him back down. The dwarf looks annoyed at your comment but holds his tongue. "Probably for the best," he finally says with a deep breath. "Seems you may need Her help more than me. Sleep well."

The whole exchange strikes you as a little odd. The dwarf seems to be in charge, but there was something about that look with the doorman that felt like he was the one calming the dwarf down.

You collect your things and begin to make your way up the stairs. The doorman rolls in behind you to walk you out, and you feel a finger ever so gently slip into your pocket followed by a soft bump as something settles at the bottom. A less experienced man's senses likely wouldn't have noticed, but you're no stranger to underworld craft... though typically they take instead of give.

Spoiler: Silvia

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He continues to slouch toward you as you turn to gracefully decline his advances. His face is inches from yours, his eyes full of terror. A red breath gurgles from his mouth. You leap up in shock, the tip of the bolt sticking through his neck leaving a scratch along your shoulder in the process. In the doorway of the house you see a figure dressed in black, a hood pulled up over his head, and a small crossbow mounted to his arm.

Spoiler: Valara

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A pocket of sap in the wood breaks the ensuing silence with a burst of sparks that are quickly gobbled up by darkness. You grab the fire poker and walk carefully toward the front door of the small house. It's still locked. Maybe it was just your imagination. A breeze coming in through the crack perhaps.

You return to the central room and settle before the fire once again. It seems darker in here than before. The shadows on the west wall are deeper and aren't flickering as much. As you watch, one of the shadows rises up over you toward the ceiling, smoky tendrils wafting down from jet black wings attached to a wispy, unnaturally shadowed body with empty, gray eyes.
Amid the fear, a rasping voice appears in your head though no sound enters your ears. <Return the daughter... didn't say alive, heh heh. Seed will grow anyway.>

[Michael7123]

"Whale****." Folgarda curses as she grips the axe handle tighter upon noticing the wolf. She was a stranger to these lands and their strange wildlife, but she had encountered enough predators to know that she was about to be in a world of trouble. She knew well enough that she had no chance of outrunning just about anything on four legs. But luckily enough, there was at least one potential source of refuge in these woods.

She continues slowly making her way up to the top of the hill, avoiding any sudden movements and hoping the wolf would be content to keep it's distance, at least for a time. Then, at the top of the clearing, she gets to work climbing the most approachable tree nearby, desperately hoping that the last of her strength does not fail her just yet.


(1d20+1)[14] Athletics check to climb up a tree. ( Can wolves climb trees? I don't know. Let's find out! )

[TriciaOso]

"Straight to the point, I like that." he leans over and lifts the sword from the cart, holding it up for a quick inspection before sliding it into his belt. One of the other fellows rifles through your mule's saddlebag and glares at you disapprovingly. "Keep yer toys, but we'll take the gold in yer ears. Since ye offered."

A thin whistle moving through the air catches your attention, and you turn to see an arrow fly past your little assembly, embedding itself in the grass a few feet behind your cart. There, coming down the road ahead of you, ride two armored figures, their horses clad in the king's colors. "Begone bandits!" one shouts across the small clearing. The thief with the crossbow moves around to the near side of their cart for cover and looses a bolt northward toward the pair riding toward you, but misses and begins to load another. The one inspecting your mule steps behind your cart for cover. The one on the horse draws his new prize and yells "$#@&, time to move, gents!"

As the skirmish erupts, Marlette looks back at her father and then at you with determination in her eyes. Her fingers coiling tightly around the reins.

The tart words die on Bijou's tongue: Brass, idiot.

(Nothing wrong with a bit of highway robbery, part and parcel, bit of a road tax--she could tell a dozen tales of gallant rogues of that sort, Gentleman Jim, Robin Greenleaf, even old Methuselah--but damn his eyes, there's such a thing as style. There's such a thing as courtesy to another child of the moon. You don't rob poor people, even if only because poor people don't have any money.)

But now the guards are piling in, little better than another gang of thugs in brighter colors and shinier armor, and are they sitting pretty as living breathing arrow butts, placed courteously behind the targets to catch any stray bolts? Naturally they are.

She catches the wild surmise in Marlette, more in her hands than in her stark white face, and swallows. Smarter to hide under the cart, but you can't tell a girl to hide beneath her dying father for cover. Well, you can, but Marlette isn't the type to go for it, sadly. Nothing for it.

Bijou nods just barely to Marlette.

With the last moment, she snatches up her coat and staff and puts the whole bundle between herself and the arrows for what cover it will give.

[bladescape]

The goon near the exit stairs tenses at your initial quip but a brief visual exchange with the dwarf settles him back down. The dwarf looks annoyed at your comment but holds his tongue. "Probably for the best," he finally says with a deep breath. "Seems you may need Her help more than me. Sleep well."

The whole exchange strikes you as a little odd. The dwarf seems to be in charge, but there was something about that look with the doorman that felt like he was the one calming the dwarf down.

You collect your things and begin to make your way up the stairs. The doorman rolls in behind you to walk you out, and you feel a finger ever so gently slip into your pocket followed by a soft bump as something settles at the bottom. A less experienced man's senses likely wouldn't have noticed, but you're no stranger to underworld craft... though typically they take instead of give.

Putpocketed. Neat. Leviticus almost smiled at the interaction, but he kept his face neutral as he made his way up the stairs and out onto the cold dark street. It was going to be a harsh night and he had to find the coin still. Somewhere better than that slimy fingered greaser. He hadn't been swindled like that for years, but Levi could never stay too mad at a good swindle, as long as he didn't get taken hearth from home.

Sighing and rubbing his hands together as he glanced around before taking a left out, Levi took the chance to put his hands in his pockets casually, using his fingers to feel out whatever was just put onto his body. There was a good chance it was a good thing, but a good chance that there was something being planted on him to target him later now he'd called out the gambler for being a fraud...

[RossN]

Valara's sapphire eyes widened in shock. She'd expected pursuit but this was a little different. The young noblewoman all but jumped to her feet, swaying for a second in her fashionable boots.

"Get back!" she ordered, trying to hold the confidence that had served her so well holding court and balls and dances. She was a viscountess after all!

Even as she said it Valara racked her empty brain to see if she could remember anything from her expensive tutors about what this evil thing was.

Religion check [roll] 1d20-1[/roll]

[Ramsus]

Silvia Rose Human Artist (for the moment) AC: 12 HP: 27/27 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Silvia's face in a moment goes from affronted, to disgusted, to horrified. Perhaps otherwise she might have frozen up, but the pain kicks in her fight or flight response. She instantly unleashes the roiling emotion inside of her and channels it to fuel her...... ear splitting scream of terror that could probably be heard for miles. Then she runs off in a panic, tears of fear running down her face. Still screaming, of course, and sort of on instinct trying to reach that servant she'd paid little attention to before.

[miinstrel]

Spoiler: Bijou

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Marlette flicks her wrists with a defiant "HYAH!" launching the cart forward. You hear a yelp of pain as the bandit hiding behind the cart is half trampled by your mule who seems indifferent about the whole affair, if anything a bit put off by the faster pace. The soldiers' horses part allowing you to pass as they gallop forward, the one with the bow knocking another arrow and loosing it toward the highwaymen as you pass. You turn around in your seat, keeping the coat and staff between yourself and the battle. The arrow strikes one of the thieves in the shoulder, sending him momentarily to the ground. You can't help but grin.

The one behind the cart levels his crossbow at the soldiers and fires. The arrow sails over their arm and toward your fleeing vehicle. With the soldier blocking your view your body tenses without enough time to react. The coat catches the bolt, but cloth does not armor make, and it tears through viciously embedding itself in your chest. "Bijou!" Marlette yells, catching you with one arm while keeping the reins steady with the other. "Oh god, oh god..."

She rides until you're out of sight of the battle then slows the horses. You feel your heart beating in time with their slowing pace, clip clop clip clop... clip clop...... clip clop....................... clip......... clop....

Spoiler: Folgarda

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The wolves keep pace, inching closer as you crest the hill. From the ground you can just barely see through the tops of some of the lower trees toward the glassy blue of the ocean in the distance. One tree here has enough branches low enough to attempt a climb, and while it takes a bit of a jump and the last of your strength to pull yourself up, you get a comfortable 15 feet off the ground before drawing your axe and watching the wolves, three of them, sniff at the tree's base. One of them howls into the night air. What drying you did during the trip has been replaced with sweat, and you lean gratefully against the pine's rough bark.

From your vantage point you see the coast extends west a ways and then cuts south, zig zagging toward your destination. Based on the abundant foliage you have quite a walk ahead of you toward the much more sparsely vegetated kingdom of Kardoch. Your view shows the sun's lower edge just touching the horizon and initiating a play of pinkish hues above you.

Your pursuers don't seem intent on following you up the tree, but they're not leaving. Two have lain down, one sits facing the setting sun. After a couple minutes they all rise and trot away from the tree. Suddenly the branch you're on shakes and you hear a rustling from the other side of the trunk. You turn to see a wolf's head nearly the size of your body staring back at you with victorious hunger.

Spoiler: Leviticus

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The aging oak of the door urges you along under threat of splinter if you let out any more warmth, but the darkness welcomes you with the comforting smell of burning cedar. You reach into your pocket and feel the linked metal of jewelry. Withdrawing it from your pocket reveals a small locket studded with a pearl on a golden chain. The clasp is broken as though it were pulled off someone's neck. Perhaps tonight's luck wasn't exhausted yet after all.

You continue down the street to the corner where a figure waits. "Good evening, Levi," rumbles Olibar's thirsty baritone. I'm a few hours early, I know, but I just had this feeling things didn't quite go your way tonight. And to be honest, I'm a bit tired of this whole game... you're late, I find you, you promise it's coming... you're not a good investment. I think it's time to cut my losses."

In the middle of your reply, Olibar raises his fist and punches himself in the eye. "Help! Thief!" he shouts, a finger pointed at you as he takes a step back "My necklace!" Two guards a bit too conveniently round the corner a few moments later. "Stop, thief!" one echoes, drawing a short blade.

Spoiler: Silvia

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Your scream causes the assailant to similarly spring to action, reloading his crossbow with remarkable speed and firing another bolt as you turn to run. It catches you in the arm as you turn the corner around the side of the house back the way you came. You get about halfway when your blood seems to catch fire in your chest. Your heart pounds uncontrollably as though it might burst. The world spins and you lurch forward a few steps, eventually dropping to your knees. Someone approaches you and kneels down beside you. They're speaking but you can't focus on their words. Your delirium suggests your consciousness may fade soon despite the minor nature of your wounds.

Spoiler: Valara

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Your recall is found wanting as your mind sets itself to the matter at hand. The creature looms larger in your vision as it slowly wafts forward. You step back as it approaches. You can see the flickering flames dimly through parts of its body like a puppet show behind a curtain. <So brave... be afraid... fear tastes better.>

It reaches out with lightning speed, grabbing your throat. Its mere touch conjures to your mind every doubt and fear of the last few years. As you relive each in turn it fades as though wiped from your memory along with a bit of your will to live. The creature's black face seems to darken and grin, savoring every reaction on your face.

OOC: describe one of these moments of fear as part of your next post.

[TriciaOso]

What a stupid way to die. What a stupid, stupid way to die. All the legends and stories and jokes and tragedies and music that live inside of her, whole imaginary worlds orbiting a sun now guttering like a dying candle.

She'd always meant to die on the road, sure enough, but there's no poetry here; not even a limerick. No one is going to remember her except for Marlette, and--she realizes with cold clarity and biting sarcasm--she won't even be the most significant death this farmgirl witnesses today, for her father surely won't make sundown without Bijou's medical training.

Her mother is retired, good as dead in her one-horse village, but at least there still beat hearts that remember thrillingly the day Odeon Half-elven sang for them. The children of the moon say you live as long as something you made, something you shaped, is still remembered. Bijou Terpsichore will have no encores, and that's bitter.

Bitter...



As she dies she hums to herself, soothing her own pain as she always has, from beneath tables while her mother twirled across dancefloors, from hallways while her mother tumbled in inn bedrooms. She hums one of the oldest songs she learned, jagged and strange, unearthly but orderly to a fault, a beautiful deathless symmetry that washes away bitterness and replaces it with peace; the song her mother called the Hymn of Mercy. The hum grows faint as she runs out of breath, but if you pressed your ear to her throat you could hear the last vibrations of a life reverberating.

[Ramsus]

Silvia Rose Human Artist (for the last moment) AC: 12 HP: 27/27 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Silvia's mind tries to puzzle together what happened, but she just can't focus well enough. Perhaps she should, being of royal blood, have been able to put the pieces together and realize she'd been poisoned and at least manage to get that word out in case the figure over her was inclined and able to help. Perhaps as an even halfway decent humanoid she should have been concerned for their safety... assuming it wasn't just the killer making sure they'd left no witnesses. But really where her mind went were to try and form some beautiful final words. And for just a sliver of a moment she grasped them and tried to speak. But found that between her lengthy screaming and the running she wasn't used to and whatever else was going on, she couldn't make so much as a sound now. Frustrated at her lack of ability to release a final bit of artistry into the world, more than afraid or angry or sad, her eyes rolled over to the garden and she remembered Bayrd's final words (of any real import anyway, no good historian would do the dead and the rest of the world the disservice of being tiresomely accurate in such a case surely) "The gardens nearly match your beauty. Nearly". As that remembrance passed through her dimming mind, she thought, "Yes. Not so beautiful as me. Even in this moment. My self-portrait of the feeling of fire in my heart and spreading through my body on this dark night, lit faintly by the fire with this garden as the shadowy backdrop will be a masterpiece." Forgetting in her last moment, that she wouldn't be having any others in which to make said painting.

[Michael7123]

The wolves keep pace, inching closer as you crest the hill. From the ground you can just barely see through the tops of some of the lower trees toward the glassy blue of the ocean in the distance. One tree here has enough branches low enough to attempt a climb, and while it takes a bit of a jump and the last of your strength to pull yourself up, you get a comfortable 15 feet off the ground before drawing your axe and watching the wolves, three of them, sniff at the tree's base. One of them howls into the night air. What drying you did during the trip has been replaced with sweat, and you lean gratefully against the pine's rough bark.

From your vantage point you see the coast extends west a ways and then cuts south, zig zagging toward your destination. Based on the abundant foliage you have quite a walk ahead of you toward the much more sparsely vegetated kingdom of Kardoch. Your view shows the sun's lower edge just touching the horizon and initiating a play of pinkish hues above you.

Your pursuers don't seem intent on following you up the tree, but they're not leaving. Two have lain down, one sits facing the setting sun. After a couple minutes they all rise and trot away from the tree. Suddenly the branch you're on shakes and you hear a rustling from the other side of the trunk. You turn to see a wolf's head nearly the size of your body staring back at you with victorious hunger.

Folgarda freezes in place, the adrenalin that had faded in the first few minutes of respite returning with a vengeance as she stares the wolf- if indeed this was a wolf- snarling at her hungrily.

Every moment she has ever treasured flashes before her: mother and father's stories, time playing with her seven siblings, the times spent wrapped up in layers and layers of mammothite next to a , fire in the middle of the bleakest winters, and the stories of how their ancestors had fled their homeland, braving ruin and desolation to turn Rostorea into their home.


And in that moment, Folgarda's resolve hardens. Knowing in a primal way that today will be the last day she walks the earth, she decides that her last moments will be worthy of all those who had raised her, and that she would not die a coward's death.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!", with what is more a yelp than a battlecry, Folgarda wildly swings her axe with both her hands towards the wolf's face, failing to consider the precarious balancing act that fighting in a tree requires, and soon after goes tumbling downwards to the forest floor below.


Attack (1d20+3)[10]

Damage (1d10+1)[8]

Fall Damage (1d6)[6]

[RossN]

Valara kicked and screamed, desperate not to go without a fight against this thing. Even as she scratched and clawed at it, her mind was swept with ancient fears, briefly awoken, ripped from her and then cast into oblivion.

...she remembered 'borrowing' a pair of ruby earrings from her stepmother's jewellery box when she was maybe twelve and how she'd almost at once lost them and the way the whole day had stretched before her before the awful business had been found out. Endless Autumn hours ticking away before she had been called into the presence of her father and stepmother. Alone with her thoughts, she who hated loneliness. The fear of the punishment, of the mockery as they scolded "our stupid little girl" had lingered long beyond the punishment itself.

"I am the Valara Discari, Viscountess of Dullan and I am better than this," she screamed and spat and clawed and fought even as she died. "I am beautiful and I am noble and I... and I..."

[bladescape]

The aging oak of the door urges you along under threat of splinter if you let out any more warmth, but the darkness welcomes you with the comforting smell of burning cedar. You reach into your pocket and feel the linked metal of jewelry. Withdrawing it from your pocket reveals a small locket studded with a pearl on a golden chain. The clasp is broken as though it were pulled off someone's neck. Perhaps tonight's luck wasn't exhausted yet after all.

You continue down the street to the corner where a figure waits. "Good evening, Levi," rumbles Olibar's thirsty baritone. I'm a few hours early, I know, but I just had this feeling things didn't quite go your way tonight. And to be honest, I'm a bit tired of this whole game... you're late, I find you, you promise it's coming... you're not a good investment. I think it's time to cut my losses."

In the middle of your reply, Olibar raises his fist and punches himself in the eye. "Help! Thief!" he shouts, a finger pointed at you as he takes a step back "My necklace!" Two guards a bit too conveniently round the corner a few moments later. "Stop, thief!" one echoes, drawing a short blade.

Levi's hands had moved quickly, quick-enough he'd thought. Olibar's voice was a frustrating recall, but he'd be damned if he let the greedy landowner see the necklace he'd been given. "Look, Olibar, I already have what I need to make the money tonight. I'll owe you nothing more then and you can let me--."

Or so he'd thought. The moment Olibar punched himself, crying thief for an item that the gambler was sure he'd never seen. That's when it all clicked into place, the odd glances earlier, the intent to bleed him dry of money, Olibar getting one last money draw before removing Leviticus from the picture...

When to bloody fold them... Was the last bitter words in his head as he turned and pumped his legs. He didn't bother trying to reason with the guards, they wouldn't listen. He was in the right but they wouldn't listen. His only chance was that they hadn't seen him properly in the night and to get out of their sight. The burning of his legs told him exactly how unfit he was right now merely steps into the attempt to flee, but there was a single thought in his head that inspired his continued desperate attempt.

I'm not ready to join you yet, Estelle. A bitter thought, swallowed down as he breathed harshly.

[miinstrel]

Spoiler: Bijou

Show

As your eyes flutter shut you feel someone take your hand and a second voice joins their melody to yours. Its ethereal - almost a whisper. Before you can discern if it was Marlette or some other soul it all turns black.

Spoiler: Folgarda

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Nothing about these next few moments went as planned. As you shouted, the enormous beast reared back and launched itself up toward you only to catch air in its jaws as you slip ferociously downward, landing hard on one of the tree's roots. The last thing you remember seeing is an enormous paw bearing the full weight of a dire wolf bearing down upon your face.

Spoiler: Leviticus

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The guards give chase, ,though as soon as it seems you are likely to outrun their lightly armored forms, one draws a dagger from his waist and throws it forward. It misses its mark but still leaves a gash in your thigh. The flow of blood takes with it your speed./ In another block they've caught you, and while guards they may be by profession, they've clearly forgone that duty in their hearts. A blade goes in and comes out again. It's an unpleasant way to go, but perhaps on the side of the road, returned to nothing, is enough poetry for you.

Spoiler: Valara

Show

You fight dutifully at this manifestation of your hatred until every lonely memory slips away along with your consciousness. At the very end there's almost peace.

---

There has only ever been white, clean and eternal, all imperfections swept away. You feel it has always been this way, but now is different. Now there is blue. Now more blue. Drip... drop... drip... drop... more and more, falling like rain on the edge of your consciousness, color winking in and out, spinning. Were you always conscious? All thoughts are white-now-blue, as memories but changing. Each droplet of color lingers longer than the last and builds on itself, drying into blue-gray ridged textures and shadows, but above you is always white. A small pinhole of light and the blankness that was before amid this new sea of color.

The blue-gray coalesces into jagged shapes, plates spinning ever faster, the shadow of each merging with the next into a stop motion image of a damp cave. The speed increases until the picture steadies, the spinning now ceased, and you find yourself standing, naked, in the cave. The stone is cold and smooth to your bare feet. Drip... drop... each impact echoes through the cavern, tiny cries for companionship answered by their brethren as they all march down in rivulets for better things where gravity’s siren song ceases.

You catch movement in your periphery. You are not alone. Four others stand a few feet away. Strangers to you. While you've no idea how you got here, or where here even is, the shared expressions of confusion and wonder suggest they also feel awoken from a deep slumber.

Drip... drop... drip...

---

The cave is large enough the small bit of moonlight shining in from a hole in the roof of the cave does not fully illuminate the walls. Fortunately lit sconces encircle most of the room. In the center is a massive, hovering, multi-layered sphere made up of shifting plates, each tier rotating at a slightly different speed that dizzies you if you look too hard.

The chamber is mostly unworked stone, though a few intentional items also exist. On one side rests a wooden rack in surprisingly good condition, perhaps preserved by the cold. It seems to house a number of what were likely blankets at one point, but now are simply tattered remnants (though still semi-functional if hideous). Next to this rack rest a few finely made steel tools including an axe, a couple shovels, a few lengths of heavy chain and some hemp rope, and a longsword.

Along another wall sits an enormous rock that seems to have dislodged from the ceiling based on the extra deep shadows directly above it. A partial skeleton is visible beneath the rock, the rest of it seemingly crushed underneath.

The entire room shows signs of debris and cave in, most notably at the far end where the edge of a squared archway can be seen. Some small paths through the fallen rock are available for a small framed person, though how deep they go is unclear from here.

Most notable are the four other individuals around you.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

As you have all awakened naked, I need you to:

• Identify no more than one item in your inventory that really houses the core of your character. This could be a cloak, a spell casting focus, a trinket… any single object you like. Delete all other items and all currency from your sheet except that one item.
• You do not have this item on your person just yet, but I don’t want you to have to think back and try to figure out what it was a few posts from now.

Your memory is a little hazy, but your mortal life and how you died returns to you at whatever pace you deem appropriate.
You do not yet remember your ‘spirit’ lives nor are your class features active yet.
@Silvia – you are still a human. No visible rib cage, etc. just yet. We’ll get there soon.

[TriciaOso]

Bijou takes advantage of being the first to wake to scramble, unsteadily at first, to examine the rack. With quick, practiced hands that rigged many an impromptu costume or curtain, she tears an ancient blanket in two and wraps herself hurriedly. It's the not the most modest set of garments--it reminds her, in fact, of something her mother would wear--but it will do. No one has ever called her navel 'the giddy stirrup cup of Desire,' anyway.

Blearily she looks at the other three unconscious women and consider. Easier, probably, she thinks, slow and syrupy, to blindfold the man instead.

Without conscious thought her free hand floats to her chest and probes the place where an arrow should be.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Her flute.

[bladescape]

"Edra's blessed light." The exclamation was the first thing the man uttered as he winced, his left hand going to his forehead as he stumbled slightly, his feet unsure of the terrain. There was a brief wonder then, as he looked down, realising the pain that seared through his tired legs was gone. His hand then went to his chest, touching over bare skin almost wonderingly."Not even a scar..."

Finally bringing himself to look around, his eyes get stuck on the spinning globe a moment before roving over the rest of the room. At first the gaze is a mix of curiosity and wonder, almost childlike in how it gazed upon all of the craziness around him, before suddenly becoming tinged in pink as the older male blushed. Lithe as he was he almost hunched in on himself as he realised the situation, his brain only now catching up with the change of circumstances.

Not properly looking over at the one woman who was awake, he wet his lips, staring solidly at the ground. "Can you pass one of them for me?"

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Keeping my Deck of Cards because I'm a Gambler

[Ramsus]

Silvia Rose Human Artist (?) AC: 12 HP: 27/27 PP: 13 PIv: 10 PIs: 11 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Silvia awoke and calmly examined her situation. It was all very surreal, like some kind of dream. Then she places her hand to her heart to feel it, checking to make sure the burning sensation wasn't still there. Spotting the other woman who was awake she gave a polite nod of her head and got up. She didn't seem particularly uncomfortable in her nakedness, rather she just didn't immediately acknowledge the man yet, though she did decide to copy what the other woman had done to cloth herself, as much as you could call it that. Having clothes (as it were) spurs the thought to her missing material possessions, here she was in a strange location with strange people and a fascinating thing she'd never so much of heard of before and she was to simply stand there bare foot and poorly dressed without any means of capturing this moment with a brush or in a sculpture? Such an affront! As she stood there looking around, her annoyance would be quite clear to see. Not that she would have attempted to hide it if she'd considered it might be showing. Spoiler Show Choosing her signet ring.

[RossN]

"I am..." Jarla gasped aloud and opened her eyelids. "...alive?"

The young woman sat up and looked around in confusion, a mane of long white-blonde hair falling in front of her face. Brushing it back revealed a pretty, if pale complexioned appearance dominated by ruby lips and large blue eyes. She glanced at the others in surprise, mixed with suspicion.

"Who are you people and why are you...?" she glanced down and quickly moved a protective arm across her bosom. "Why are we naked?"

Standing up (still trying to keep her arms and hands strategically placed) Jarla revealed herself to be tall for a woman. She stepped towards the rack and in a complicated dance secured some of the rags to wrap around herself.

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

Keeping her signet ring.

[TriciaOso]

"That's the rub, isn't it?" Bijou says. "I don't know, and I don't know, except my ownself. And if we're all in the same boat, then so we'll stay unless we share." She hands out ragged blankets even as she says this.

Unless they aren't all in the same boat. But what else is there to do? She adds abruptly, like pushing her chips into the middle of the table: "I'm Bijou."

Bijou is: Short, snub-nosed, dark-skinned, with masses of curly hair so dark it has an almost purple gloss. She's fit--fitter than she looks in her usual baggy clothes--and light on her toes, but it's clear nature decided this one would be hippy and thick-waisted and all the acrobatics and missed dinners in the world won't be changing that.

"I'm a vaud. Songs and tales mostly." She has a rural accent, broad but lilting; most-leh. "Some dancing and tumbling." She won't mention the puppets unless she has to.

Having appointed herself quartermaster, she moves towards the tools and examines them with a frown. "Anyone know how to use a sword?"

Insight: (1d20+4)[17]