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  #256  
Old 04-25-2019, 12:22 PM
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Giran
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As Ada speaks, Giran’s eyes get distant. Whether he is tuning her out or thinking honestly about what she says is difficult to determine.

Less ambiguous is his reaction to Cyprian’s derisive snort! The soldier’s eyes flash with a sudden intensity that seems to cut through his stupor. Rising to his feet, fist clenched, he speaks directly to the hooded assassin. "Is my company not good enough for you, friend? I’ve seen your kind before, always skulking about in shadow, making whispered insult. Speak plainly to my face, Hood!"

The young musician stops playing as he and his admirer turn to look at the scene. Bud jumps down from the bar and runs into the kitchen.
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Old 04-25-2019, 01:02 PM
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Cyprian Thoros
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He sighed as he placed his drink back down on the table and slowly sat back in his seat. He met Giran's gaze as the man stood looking ready to throw a punch.

He silent for a heart beat. Speaking his mind was a dangerous game, but the man asked for it...So, Cyprian asked questions in turn. “Your company has nothing to do with it, and honestly there is no love lost between the gods and myself, either. You simply speak as if you believe gods have anything to do with the terrible things we do to each other. Is it not your own choices that lead you to where you are?”

He ran a finger on the glass's rim. ”In war, people sign up to die and everyone acts surprised when they do. Is it not true that people put blame on forces they can't or don't understand-- an ambiguous power that cannot defend itself to our satisfaction, as if to ignore that our own decisions has lead us to a miserable present?”

Cyprian's lifted his glass but didn't drink. His voice remained the same calm, low tone, “To blame gods is to ignore our hands in our own making. Give the gods deserving credit for the misery they cause. Is that plain enough?”

He waited, ready if the drunkard decided to start something more than a heated argument.


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  #258  
Old 04-25-2019, 01:36 PM
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Ada
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Ada stands after Cyprian's dressing-down of Giran. Her companion was far more direct, but sometimes the direct approach was what started a bar brawl or ended a quiet night at the tavern with the owner mopping up blood from a knife wound.

Ada was firmly in the camp of ensuring the quiet tavern stayed quiet. She put a hand on Giran's shoulder. "We can all wax philosophical or have a healthy debate later," she said in an almost playful tone Persuasion check - Nat 20 for 24 total!to diffuse the tension.

"Let's say you and I have a walk around. You can show me the town, good sir!" Ada put down her cup and took two steps toward the door, raising her chin and smiling to get Giran to follow. "C'mon, I'm sure you have a story or two.."



 
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  #259  
Old 04-25-2019, 04:39 PM
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While the others took their meal in the tavern of the Grassy Gnoll, Doc sought out the centaur blacksmith, Thadulos. Her eyes had picked up the way he put the weight of his body on only one leg, even as she was shocked by the bizarre anatomy of his body just like everybody else. To imagine she would meet a creature of his ilk out here of all places. She knew little of the centaurs, but her scientific mind was already hungry to learn more about his anatomy.

She sought him out near his forge and when she finally finds him, she introduces herself.

"Greetings, Thadulos. I had not introduced myself earlier - my name is Bellamy Hannan," She says in way of greeting, though she does not offer a hand or a bow." I am a...healer of sorts. I noticed you seemed to have suffered a wound in one of your legs. I would offer my services in exchange for your service as a blacksmith."


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  #260  
Old 04-25-2019, 06:34 PM
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GiranCyprian’s explanation of his point of view does not seem to satisfy Giran. "You’ve got it wrong, stranger. I been a soldier my whole life. Known nothin’ but that life and other soldiers…and none of ‘em ‘signed up to die.’ They signed up to feed themselves. They signed up to not feel powerless against the Ravagers. They signed up so’s they wouldn’t be ashamed when the Herd come through an’ killed their family. They signed up to kill those that done us wrong. But not one signed up to die."

The tense stand-off continues for a second until Ada interjects. Something about her soothing words seems to melt the growing hostility at the table, and Giran is the first to break his gaze with the assassin. "I ain’t had barley-wine in a long while. Like I said, I meant no disrespect. The priests is the one’s would come through after and give some comfort to the dead, I s’pose." Giran pushes back from the table and sways on his own two feet. The cloud of intoxication seems to settle back over the man as his anger abates. He turns toward Ada. "I could do with a bit of walk-in’ around anyway. Though there’s not much ta….ta see."

Patricia hurries from the kitchen, followed by Bud, just as the priestess is leading the veteran soldier to the door. The Grassy Gnoll’s proprietor gives Ada a grateful and relieved nod as Giran stumbles outside.

The grounds are small, but Giran walks slowly, talking in his slurred, slightly incoherent way about how he came to be here…

ThadulosThe big blacksmith seems a little self-conscious when Doc indicates his lame leg. He pulls his foreleg back in an almost unconscious way. There is a long moment of hesitation as he considers her words. "I will admit that at night I dream of running across the grasses like I used to. Of joining the tribes at the foot of the Archeart’s Throne. Some have tried to heal my leg. They say the wound is healed, but the damage remains deep in the bone that was broken. When it first happened, I thought my life was over, and I prepared myself to die. But the Archeart allowed me to live. To…walk. That, at least, is a gift. As much as my heart longs to be free upon the Plains, I will not spurn his mercy. I have a new life here. If the Archeart wishes me to run with the winds again someday, I will. But until then, I will walk among those here. Thank you for the offer."

Bellamy can tell that she awoke a deep conflict within Thadulos, but he seems resolved now. "However, I am still a blacksmith. And still for hire. What can I do for you?"

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  #261  
Old 04-25-2019, 07:50 PM
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Cyprian Thoros
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And just like that, the man had completely ignored everything else he had said. Would selective hearing never cease to amaze?

He breathed a silent sigh into his glass as he sat forward in his seat once more, his gaze elsewhere. Whether it was something greater than themselves or something simple, they died. Arbitrarily. Always. Wasn't any other side fighting to right wrongs, to feed themselves, to not feel hopeless or copious other reasons? It was an endless loop of death and no amount of blame toward divinity was going to change that. Blame towards people even had its limits. No matter how small, reasons always ended in bloodshed one way or another. Food, land, freedom, blackmailing a ship tycoon because of a slight toward a noble, or murdering the son of another because of a generatinal feud- it was always something. Always so much blood.

He should've known better than to argue with a drunken soldier-guard about those matters. Especially as drunk as that one had been. Cyprian's mood had been sour before and it hadn't improved after Giran demanded to give his opinion. If he knew he wouldn't like his view then why the hells had he asked for it, other than to get angry for saying it?

Cyprian finished his drink in one swig, feeling the burn all the way down. He knew shouldn't have engaged with someone in that state of mind, so he certainly couldn't place fault solely on Giran for how terms started and ended. On the plus side, Ada would have a better chance to calmly speak her side of things, since ‘his kind’ had far worse outlooks than Ada did.


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  #262  
Old 04-25-2019, 09:02 PM
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Alys
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Alys tucked in, delighted by the fare that Priscilla managed to provide. It was significantly better than eating on the road, and far better than anything she'd most everything she'd eaten in Stilben. She was beginning to realize that drinking wasn't quite as much fun without having to filch the drinks, but she was still feeling pleasantly warm and full as evening rolled around. The unpleasant and unwelcome drunkard jolted her back to wariness, however. These were the sorts that Meris beat bloody, when she had to. Alys was prepared to do the same, and felt a hint of a thrill at the prospect of a fight.

She didn't get the opportunity. Perched on the end of her seat, Alys watched, befuddled, as Ada defused the situation and took the old soldier out on a walk. More mysteries from Cyprian as well. She turned her glance to him, watching as he downed the rest of his drink. "Kind of a pessimistic take," she said, after a moment. "If everything's our fault we should get credit for the good stuff, too." She wasn't feeling particularly eloquent, for some reason, but Cyprian's edge was rubbing her the wrong way. It felt almost like he'd given up? Or was just angry at himself for not being able to.
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  #263  
Old 04-25-2019, 10:55 PM
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Cyprian Thoros
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A creeping grin found it’s way to Cyprian’s face despite his earlier mood. His gaze returned from wherever his mind was, and his blue eyes found Alys with something akin to humor or irony. “Yes. Exactly right.” He agreed, his tone measured yet approving. At least someone was giving it some thought and dissecting his words rather than brandishing a torch and pitchfork, despite the note of annoyance in her voice, of course. Although...He was surprised by the who had done the dissecting. Alys wasn’t the one he would have expected to make that point or string the connection.

“Firstly, as a side note, I never said everything is our fault. That’s an absolute and there is no such thing. There’s always a random occurrence of chance. The only absolute is that there are no absolutes...An oxymoron that feeds into its self.”

Cyprian shrugged a shoulder and waved it way. “But more to the point. People give too much credit to the gods for what goes wrong and what goes right. People have far more power with our freedoms of choice then we are willing to acknowledge both with our capacity for good and the bad. I surmise that kind of responsibility and accountability scares people into deflecting their consequences, both positive and negative ones, onto a divine third party, a divinity that may or may not have anything to do with the action at all. Or, quite frankly, may not give a d*amn...”

He trailed off, stopping himself from the ramble. He rubbed the corner of his brow with bemusement written on his face, his fingers slowly turning his glass on the table. Ah, how much hot water he had landed himself in back home with these ideas. What a little heretic he turned out to be.

A short, dull chuckle escaped before he added, a little subdued, “...Let’s just say I don’t get invited to many theology debate circles. My 'unique' speculations have certainly lessened chances for mutual attachments-- My charming personality aside.”


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I took the Oath of Sangus
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  #264  
Old 04-26-2019, 02:02 AM
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The Grassy GnollWith a smile, Patricia brings over several plates of blueberry cobbler to the table. "I’m sorry about Giran. He really is a good man. The last year or two have been rough on him." Sighing, she adds, "Not that that’s any excuse. The last couple years have been hard on everyone. Just when you think things…well, anyway, I hope he didn’t upset you. Can I get anyone a cigar? Or some pipe tobacco? We have a few blends that are pretty popular."

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  #265  
Old 04-26-2019, 02:31 PM
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Talia
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Talia listened to the debate, back and forth, back and forth, as she ate and then drank.
Finally, when it was starting to affect her buzz and joy in the moment, she took a friendly jab at the master manipulator himself.

"Nonsense Cyprian. I would be mutually attached to you."

Dice Deception:
1d20+4 (8)+4 Total = 12
She let that sink in for a second to see his response and then followed it up with, "Well, I would be, but that was before you got so pessimistic." She looked serious for a moment, and thenn smiled, showing teeth before she took a drink, eyes looking at him in case he threw something at her.


 
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  #266  
Old 04-26-2019, 06:07 PM
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Doc only nods once as the centaur gave his fraught answer. There was a part of him that wished to be healed, that was clear. The half-orc looked down at her hand briefly, as though distracted and mumbles a word, but looks up quickly as Thadulos asks what he could do for her. The resistance he had to the possibility of being healed was almost tangible. She'd seen it once or twice in her backdoor clinic in Stilben -
Dice Guided Insight - What are his true feelings around his wound?:
1d20+4 (7)+4 Total = 11
d4t 3 Running Total = 14
wounds of the mind.

"I think I would like my shield repaired tomorrow," She says, shouldering off the old, dented buckler and showing the centaur its condition. She digs around in her rucksack and her hand reappears with the large bloodstone, its dark red and green gradations slick even in its uncut state. "Do you do engravings or know how to work with stones as well?"

++

Later as she settled down to share a room with Ada, Doc enters her nightly ritual. It had been a moment since she had felt the safety of a building and it lulled her into a sense of perhaps unwarranted security. They still traversed the Dividing Plains. Nevertheless Cast Enhance Ability (Fox's Cunning)she focuses her mind with blood magic, her shield glowing lightly as the energy passes through her. First she does her best to
Dice Religion:
2d20+4 (7, 13)+4 Total = 24
recall the teachings of the Archeart[/DICE] - the blacksmith seemed to use that as a crutch to avoid facing his own fears. She could use that against him.
Dice Intelligence:
2d20+2 (1, 3)+2 Total = 6
Next, she reads awhile. At this point her mind was almost blank when she scans the pages of the Spireling's gift - a void waiting for some lesson to jump out at her. It couldn't be as simple as it seemed.
OOCOops messed up those tags. So that's a 17 for Religion and a 5 () for the reading check.


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  #267  
Old 04-29-2019, 02:37 AM
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Thadulos"I’m afraid what you ask is beyond my skill. I have no experience working with stones or silver. Certainly, you will find one with such knowledge in Westruun." The centaur speaks with more regret than Bellamy expects. His disappointment goes deeper than simply his skill. The blood cleric can sense the pounding of his pulse, and she knows he is more conflicted about his condition than he shows. But he speaks no more on the matter. With a polite nod, he carries a bucket into the courtyard to fill it from the well.
The tavernThe young couple retire from the common room of the Grassy Gnoll quite early. With the young musician gone, the room is far quieter while the travelers finish their meals and drink.

Everything looks a little strange to Alys. Confire looks over at her as she is waving her hand in front of her own face, enthralled at the funny visual trail it leaves in the air. She then giggles and tries to focus glassy eyes on the half full bottle of brandy in front of her. Her innate elemental nature reaches out to the water in the liquid. The drink slowly rises from the top of the bottle like a charmed snake from a basket. It dances a bit in the air before Alys directs the stream toward her open mouth. She tries to watch it, but she can’t quite get her eyes to track and the brandy splashes into her nose! She is still sputtering when Talia walks her off to the double room they are sharing.
That nightThe plains are quiet as the travelers sleep in comfortable beds. There is no splash of the ocean like the docks of Stilben. No cacophony of screeches, clicks, and howls like the night swamp. No whistling of the wind through mountain passes. Out here in the middle of the ocean of grass, it is silent…

 

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Old 04-29-2019, 04:29 AM
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Confire sat on the step of the wagon as Cyprian slept inside. He was holding a long blade of grass and trying to get it to hum the way he would with the reeds back home, but this grass was softer and thinner and he couldn’t get the hang of it. Above him the stars shone with an intensity that he had never known and he could pick out different colours for some of them. He had read in his book that the stars which seemed to wander around the sky were not stars at all, but great balls of rock or ice, but he found that hard to imagine. How high must they be if they still hadn't fallen down to the ground yet?!

His rumination was interrupted by a sudden crash at the compound gate which made him jump. Sighing he threw the grass to the floor and reached into the wagon for his spellbook before standing as he flicked through the pages. Another crash came and something huge came charging in, flanked by perhaps a dozen of what he recognised as orcs. They looked angry. By the time they had all funnelled into the courtyard his spell was almost complete, and with one final phrase he gestured with his stump and sudden darkness covered the area outside of the wagon. Confire, still standing in the doorway, smiled in satisfaction.

"That should keep them guessing," he called back to Cyprian, failing to keep the smugness out of his voice.

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Old 04-29-2019, 04:32 AM
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Bellamy jumps to her feet as whatever dream she was having shatters at the sound of crashing wood and a word that sends a ripple of fear and apprehension through her chest. She'd had the Orc tongue since before she could remember - it was a thing she seldom used, having been discouraged by Mother Lucinda's disapproval with her fascination with her own lineage and the looks the other orphans would give her. But she still knew and the guttural command was unmistakably Orchish.

Her dark brown hair was wild and unkempt in her sleep and as she turns to hiss at Ada to wake up it falls into her eyes. "Dammnit!" She pushes the hair out of her face and rushes into the hallway, shield in hand and makes her way swiftly with heavy footfalls to the small room adjoining the sleeping rooms and the tavern. There was a window there and in the courtyard, her fears were confirmed.

A small horde of orcs gathered there. More emotions run through her, and for a moment she feels out of breathe, but as the orcs begin to move towards building where Alys and Talia sleep all doubt fades to a distant buzz in her mind. Her shield glows red and she whispers, "Harvest."

The spectral scythe made of dark, ghostly iron coalesces as though from nothing into the coiurtyard, appearing next to the orc closest to the window. Doc flicks her fingers and the blade moves to decapitate one of the brutes, but it fails to catch it off-guard.


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Old 04-29-2019, 10:49 AM
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Talia
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Talia is jostled awake and quickly begins to don her gear.
To Alys she says, "Awaking me at this hour, my first night in a good bed since... I don't know when??!! There will be blood!!"

She isn't sure what she'll find outside, but she'll not stay in her bed and be attacked in it, or stay cowering either.
It just wasn't who she was.

Dice Initiative:
1d20+6 (7)+6 Total = 13
She rushes out the door, pulling her twin short swords, and right into
Dice Sword 1:
1d20+6 (9)+6 Total = 15
Dice Sword 1 damage if hit:
1d6+4 (4)+4 Total = 8
Dice sword 2:
1d20+6 (9)+6 Total = 15
Dice sword 2 damage if hit:
1d6+4 (4)+4 Total = 8
Dice Added Sneak attack damage if hit:
2d6 5, 5 Total = 10
attack the first Orc she sees that is pouring into the town.

She makes short work of the Orc, severing it's weapon arm just below the elbow, and followed this up with a clean swing from her second sword to cut the Orc's head clean from it's body.
She turns and spins to face the next orc, Intimidation: 16+2 = 18twin blades at the ready, both pointing forward, one straight out, the other held out to the side with the pommel even with her shoulder in a balance fighting stance.


 
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