Bards are Gross
Log Info
- Title: Bards are Gross
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Jinks, Aryia, Seyardu, Munch
- Place: A03: The Colosseum
- Time: Thursday, December 16, 2021, 8:13 PM
- Summary: Jinks and Munch linger to try and get to the bottom of the colosseum event, where a lamia is presented as a medusae, and sentenced for the Medusa's crimes. The two are joined by Aryia and Seyardu, briefed, and speak with Lars. The bard explains that his involvement was brining the Lamia to Alexandria and introducing her to the bosses. He wasn't aware of why she was put in the medusae helmet, and thought it might have been part of the show. His job is to wind up the crowd; he's good at winding up others. Aryia and Jinks find that truthful enough, but Seyardu distrusts him and wants to speak to Firestarter to check his story. Lars tells her off but takes them to his 'girlfriend' anyhow. Jinks and Munch go seeking the mages, expecting more informative answers. They're able to locate one, Priscaelyn, who admits to casting the petrification spells to further the 'medusae' ruse. She explains that the colosseum bosses see adventurers as a renewable resource. Jinks asks for an introduction and she agrees to give the charismatic bard an introduction. Aryia and Seyardu meanwhile, speak to Firestarter and get into a wrestling match with her. Seyardu uses an anti-magic field to suppress the charm on Firestarter, and tells her she's charmed. The hobgoblin was aware, and was waiting on Braelnoir to rescue her with some secret plan. She asks if this is the plan. It isn't, but now it is. The others arrive and they decide to relocate to the arcanist dungeons.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A03: The Colosseum *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Crafted largely of stone, the Colosseum sits heavily in the midst of the district. Effectively a giant arena, seats form its sweeping sides like the forefront of a great stage. At its center is a stained, stone floor. Each end is overseen by the opposing statues of Kor and Angoron, their arms raised and each holding weapons in gestures of triumph. Staged at a crossroads, their stone gazes stand in eternal challenge over the battlefield floor. Angoron's statue appears to have something of a smirk, opposing Kor's dreadful scowl.
Construction here is on the massive scale. The Arena's stone form was carried piece by piece from the Redridge. Borne on the shoulders of ancient oruch and formed by the tireless hands of the khazad, it is second to none in ancient craftsmanship. Old tribal and clan symbols, nearly worn away, reveal themselves when blood and sweat pools in their minor crevices. Their unusual display brings to life, if only for moments, memories of warrior traditions past. It is for this reason the Arena serves as a diplomatic grounds for some cultures, as well as sport and competition.
Beneath the arena's stage are preparation rooms for competitors, and retiring areas for the wounded. Here, warriors are tended to by aids and medics, by coaches and priests. Tarianic laughter echoes from the chambers on the Angorite side. These unseen areas run alongside a cleverly, khazad-designed system to flood the arena's floor for certain performances. When flooded, the arena draws waters from the nearby Tornmawr. During these occasions anything is possible, as even the Nar-Sektoth have been known to visit from far off Am'shere, and display their powers beneath the gods' banners.
The encircling seats provide a grand view, while vendors often walk the aisle ways between, selling food or taking bets. Clear as blood is the single, red line drawn down the arena's center between the twin statues, daring an opponent to cross.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. Munch 6'5" 225 Lb War Golem Male Dreadlocked golem with metal scales. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Lars the Charming Bard Human Male A northern skald, charming and immoral. Firestarter Hobgoblin Female A fiery brawler, with Lars. Priscaelyn Human Female A mercenary mage, employed by the colosseum -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The colosseum guards arrived. Then the watch. Everyone was separated to sort things out. Some were separated more than others.
The lamia was taken to the Arcanists' dungeons. A place beneath their immense spider-hall, composed entirely of nethercite, with cells that will suppress magic abilities and unusual transformations. It's where victims of the magic-plague were taken, and more recently demons and devils.
It turns out the lamia actually is a lamia.
The mages and the barker were interviewed and released. They were just doing their jobs. They were told to be available, but they're likely to stay put for only so long.
The 'big bosses', the owners and directors of the colosseum were not called down to make a statement. They're available for interview, by appointment, at their pleasure.
The gnome and his fellow adventurers weren't guilty of any crimes, although the war-machine was warned about its threats to eat people. It was a sanctioned combat, heated words are expected, provided everyone calms down at the end.
They did.
Leaving a little gnome with a few options to pursue, and some time to gather assistants to help him get to the bottom of things. It's simply a matter of who, and where to start.
"It wasn't our finest hour." Jinks is post-exercise and pose-melee, doubly frazzled and sweaty, and more than a little frustrated with himself. He's dressed for a less-glamorous evening-- or at least hasn't engaged his glamourous magics-- and his doublet hangs open with a small locket dangling, half-obscured and just over his sternum. "Execution-by-combat is something a rare few are granted in this city... and we saw the fallout of the 'medusa' having turned others to stone..."
He frowns and sighs, shrugging. "But we still should've put more thought before diving into the fray at the simplest invitation."
"The woodsman knew the barker and opened fire on him-- something to do with a past crime some time ago. The lamia was presented as a medusa but had a helmet with tacked snakes bolted around her face and the whole 'wig' was mad with pain since each had been run through and pinned in place."
A pause as he sighs and grinds his teeth. "Munch and I finally had the presence of mind to employ spells of understanding. The woman was trying to yield; begged for mercy. Apparently Halani hadn't heard." Man, they really did cock this one up but good.
"We should probably talk to her first. The lamia. Get her side of it all." He turns, looking around for the bow he'd tossed down in disgust. He starts to pad off, "I don't trust that barker but it might be he's as much a fool as the rest of us were made out to be..."
Another pause as he stands over the bow, facing away, and after he sighs his shoulders into a slump he'll kneel down and pick it up. By the time it's strapped back into the harness on his back and he's returned the gnome has smothered the worst of his irritation. "Makes sense?"
Aryia was going to go about her usual training day when she had walked in on the fuss. She blinks a few times, listening to Jinks' explanation of everything, a brow raising ever higher on her forehead.
"Oh that medusa was nasty," she comments with a hand, familiar with that development having been there.
She shifts a bit, then slowly bobs her head. Yes, that makes sense. Not sure what good she'd do here, but Aryia would lend a hand as best she could. <Handspeech>
Well, Seyardu was not expecting such a commotion when she went, late again- for her training. Guards swarming the grounds, people being questioned, and perhaps strangest still, Jinks looking like he was not some lost baron in the streets. This was curious enough to get her attention as she makes her way through the area to where he was explaining himself.
"What is this about a lamia in the city? Should I be concerned?" She asks curiously to the gnome.
Jinks turns his attention away from staring narrow-eyed at this 'Lars' fellow and look over and up at Seyardu. "A perfect question for her. That man--" he raises his chin at the barker-- "had her trussed up like a medusa and presented her as a prisoner for execution." He shivers as the heat of battle fades away and the chill air begins to set into his slack shirt. It's inspiration enough to start buckling his armored coat back up and pull on gloves he'd stuffed into his belt.
"Probably best to start with him before he crawls away into the city. Then we can go get her side of the story... I have another scroll should I need it."
GAME: Jinks rolls Linguistics: (11)+9: 20
Thinking it over, the gnome believes the lamia was speaking a lamia specific language. They are supposed to know abyssal and draconic though.
Aryia leans over, squinting her eyes to see what person he was talking abou-
Blink blink.
That was the guy that gave her dating advice! The hell was he doing here?
Her eyes widen at Jinks' explanation, and she scowls even harder. "Say the word and I'll kick his ass." <Handspeech>
"Lars you say?" Seyardu asks quickly, looking to the man, and back to Jinks quickly. "I would not trust him in the slightest, to be completely honest. I have business with him, but that is best handled with a few other people with us. That being said, know that he is a powerful bard, likely more powerful than Jinks. I will leave the questioning to Jinks, but speak if I need to. But I would like to be ready in case he attempts anything."
Lars is hanging around, as requested. He's also signing autographs, some on today's program, some on the exposed chests of fans. He has fans, it would seem. He also has some guards nearby. Not his guards, they're the colosseum's and the city's, but they'd notice if he was getting an ass-kicking and likely intervene whether he deserved it or not.
He's all healed up and turns towards the group as they approach, also all smiles. "Hey smallman! And the Romantic Mul! Hope that advice worked out." He squints at Seyardu, doesn't seem to recognize her, and looks back at Jinks, "Always good to meet a colleague. So, you've got questions. Let's sort this out."
"Sorry ladies, business, I'll catch up with you later," he tells his improbable fans, addressing Jinks and all once more, "So, what do you want to know? Where I found her?"
Jinks cups both hands over his face and exhales, drawing them down together. "Alright. So the woodsman and you, both, have trouble with this tallman, noted." He takes some time and fixes up his hair (which means scrapping and doing-up his ponytail fresh, then smoothing down his goatee) and then makes sure his clothes are on straight before heading over. There's a standard at play here.
That's before they come together, naturally.
"Seems like a good place to start. Next could be why she was made up to look like a creature she wasn't. And who's deranged, ill-tempered nephew is nailing snakes to the inside of helmets."
The 'Romantic Mul' has her arms crossed and her gym bag strapped over a shoulder. She taps her foot, lips pursed off to the side. Damn. No ass kicking today. She's already got her name recognize in the Tribune, and some people had already been talking to her out of the blue on the streets.
She should read that Tribune article some day. Some day.
Lars also adjusts his hair, brushing it back, followed by a slight tug on his nose to reassure himself it's still straight. A re-adjustment of his jacket. "Okay, so a day from here, wait, let me back up."
He crosses his arms, much like Aryia has, although he lacks any sort of bag. He isn't tapping a foot but does have one outstretched in a similar way. "So, out adventuring, Guild job, in some ruins with the girls. Get a telepathy message, we can't teleport back, some new spell went up. We're going to have to pay for an air-ship ride, MUCH more expensive."
"At the same time, we run into this Lamia. The conversation actually is peaceful, turns out, she's interested in getting her coils into a big city." The tallman bard gestures around at the colosseum.
"She's not a nice person. She's not a good person. Has her own little tribe and fighting pit, but she's noticed, orcs, goblins, they're a lot better equiped than they used to be, seem almost human." He makes a grease-my-palm gesture, "she wants some of that scratch."
He shrugs, "I tell her I've got an in with the colosseum, and that I figure with all the abjuration, they might want some friendly monsters if she wants to come talk terms with them. Which, she did, and she came along all peaceful."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+16: (8)+16: 24 (Lars Buff) GAME: Jinks rolls Perform/Sing: (1)+22: 23 (EPIC FAIL) (vs DC 24) GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (1)+17: 18 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (19)+11: 30
It's not a lie, but it's not entirely accurate either.
"So she bolted herself into a hat with angry snakes that kept biting anything they could reach... including her?" Maybe Jinks just enjoys far-fetched stories. Maybe it's professional courtesy. Maybe his insight into sapient motivations is powered by his jewelry and he's suffering through that metaphorical bad haircut.
Aryia is listening to his story as best she can. But she couldn't help but notice how the man seemed to mirror her displeased stance. She shifts on her feet some. Moving from resting her weight on her back foot and a hand on her hip, to arms akimbo and leaning forward slightly. The story makes sense. Though felt a little off how it went from that to them having to be executed in trial by combat.
A connection she'd make if she wasn't so busy going back to crossing her arms and tapping her foot.
"Ah, peace on your nest, it seems people are questioning you here about what is going on." Seyardu greets, letting her normal tone of voice hide her feelings on the matter. "I take it Jinks was here during whatever it was that happened? That is, from what I overheard, a medusae being sentenced to execution by combat in the colosseum?"
The cleric does squint. "There is more to this story though, yes? Jinks is correct, I do not expect their choice of 'in' was being executed in the colosseum. Perhaps I should seek out these girls you mentioned, for their recounting?"
Lars shifts his weight from his back foot to his front, lets his arms fall akimbo, leans forward a little. He doesn't return to tapping his foot with a hand on his hip, instead he holds them, palms spread towards Jinks.
"Hey, hey, hey man, hey," he tells the gnome, shaking his head. He looks at Seyardu next, returns focus to the gnome, "I dropped her off, made the introductions to the boss, left her to work out things. I had no involvement with that helmet, or whatever plan they came up with."
"Just a job, y'know? Rile up the crowd, make it look good." He spreads his hands wider for emphasis, "They had her petrifying people. I /know/ she can't do that! She woulda on the airship. They carted off at least six statues. I figured it was some magic item, all part of the show. She was healed up after each bout."
He blinks, "Uh, sure. Ask at the guild, it's all written up and logged. Great adventure. 'Star is..." he peers around, shades his eyes and looks into the distance, "she's around somewhere taking her frustrations out on something. I usually..." he makes a hand-wavy gesture, "... let her just punch herself out."
Munch returns from the concession stand. A helm of snakes isn't enough to sustain a growing golem... not if he's growing wings. You're just going to have to trust me on that. Peering to the various folk, he tries to get a feel of the conversation... and fails. "Sooo... let the snake lady loose on him until she feels it's square?"
Jinks makes a 'hm' noise and turns, trying to look through the scattered tallmen in an effort to sort the crowd. "You understood her?" he wonders, half-turning to look over his shoulder at Lars. "When she came on the airship asking to come into the city. You'd have to, right? Did you hear her asking for mercy?"
The gnome nods at Munch, smirking faintly at the suggestion. "They have her at the Academy. In the cells below for now." Black-on-black eyes look between Aryia and Seyardu, quirking an eyebrow. "Anything else for this one? Maybe the mages next? Could be they were the ones petrifying folk..."
Aryia makes a little mental note about that. Some vague memory of a before life recalls a class on etiquette. And how to make people like you. She squints harder at him. Nope, she wasn't falling for it. And something about his demeanor just screamed sleezeball to her.
She eyes Jinks, following his lead for the time being as she shrugs and jabs a thumb over towards one of the mages. That's her suggestion.
"Whether or not you had nothing to do with what happened is to be decided." Seyardu chuffs when she finishes listening to him speak. "They did, which is incredibly dangerous. I will have to speak to those who took off with the statues, to make sure they will be properly restored. And, the mages, too, if they were part of this."
"And I would like to to speak with this Star, to see what she has to share. If she is not here, directions would be ideal."
"Hey Bluddy, that you?" Lars calls out to the small collection of guards who are just hanging around. A couple look his way, "Yeah Bluddy, Bluddy Club, right? Is that your name or your job description."
They all scowl, hands dropping to their belts. Lars immediately laughs, "Just yanking your chain guys, I appreciate all the hard work you do. You're Alexandria's finest. No one appreciates the guards like I do! Drinks on me, at the Ox." He waggles a finger, "next time."
That seems to settle the guards down, but they are paying a lot more attention tot he small group.
The bard makes a meaningful look at Munch.
Looking back to Jinks, Lars exhales, "well yes and no, I had to use a spell, when we met her. So I can understand her but it wears off, and she wasn't close. I didn't have it up yesterday I was doing the loud spell. Anyhow..."
Lars blinks and looks at Seyardu, "And who are you to be deciding anything? I'm clearing up a misunderstanding with a fellow minstrel. You know lamia are evil, right? A bitter, cursed race? Some are snakes, some are lions, some are harpies, and they reproduce by... never mind. They can make you dumber just by touching you. I told you I found her in a ruins, right? A ruined temple. They love desecrating temples to the good gods."
"So, I don't see an official investigation happening so you can keep your deciding to yourself. 'Star is around some where punching something or someone, and it's best to let her do her thing, but feel free to queue up if you want."
Munch buzzes quietly. "Races offer a general trend of statistical behavior, not the outlook of an individual. Most lamina may be evil, a specific lamina can be good. Come on man, I'm a freaking golem barbarian and I know better than that."
"Debates around a given species' proclivity towards certain hobbies won't get us anywhere." Jinks watches the watchmen and then gives Lars a nod. The gnome knows why his fellow drew the guard's attention towards their conversation and he's happy for the other bard to know he knows. "Many thanks for the chat, Lars. Coyote laughs." A friendly enough smile is offered and he heads towards the last place he saw the mages.
"He's local and so's his wife," the gnome suggests to Seyardu when they have a bit of distance between them. "Tracking either down should be easy enough if needs be. And there's a good chance he's not particularly guilty or malicious just... detached and gold-oriented." Not that anyone here has ever met someone like that.
Quiet, you.
"... and these mages might be 'getting away.'" He leans into the last phrase, craning his head up to try and find some clue as to which way they've gone.
"An official investigation, as there was some questionable business going on clearly, Lars." Seyardu states now, allowing her arms to cross. "This Lamia was made to act this way for some reason or other, yes? So this needs to be determined, if people or creatures are being forced into these situations, disposition or not. And I speak as a cleric of Althea, who does not wish to see unnecessary harm done to people."
Seyardu looks to Aryia, and nods. "I would like to find this Star person. Do you have a shawl, or a blanket I could use?" She asks.
Aryia frowns as he snips at Seyardu, the elf taking slow steps to stand just in front of the silverscale. "... I've met L-A-M-I-A before. They weren't evil. They were protecting their ruins from other people getting turned into more L-A-M-I-A." Yes... that was a... testing adventure. "Check your facts before you choke on them," she snips back with her hands. She was pretty sure he couldn't understand her, but her friends could.
Noting the guards, and Jinks' words, she sighs and drops it, following after Seyardu. She raises a brow, and pulls out a clean towl from her gym bag.<Handspeech>
Lars doesn't understand the handsign, or pretends he doesn't. He smiles, shrugs and makes a little 'toodles' fingerwave at Aryia which has enough fingers it can't be mistaken for something rude.
"I'll cooperate with officials," the northern bard tilts his head in the direction of the guard squad, adding, "they don't like Adventurers trying to do their jobs."
The gnome gets more of a friendly wave from him, "we should split drinks and share notes sometime, small man. The mages I think, went that way." He points in a direction.
"'Star is this way." He strides off across the colosseum.
Talking to Firestarter
"Not now Lars," an orange skinned Arvek Nar saays. She has highlights in yellow, shadows in red, and attitude to spare. She says it as she's in the process of pinning another woman to the sand.
"S'okay babe!" Lars says cheerfully, "I brought some surly girlys for you. I'll get out of your hair."
Her hair is very close cropped, almost shaved.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+16: (10)+16: 26 (Lars Bluff) GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (19)+11: 30
He understood and pretended not to.
They wander off, glaring at Lars as she goes. She does her best despite what the guards think. Fuck him. The guards suck at doing their jobs, and they have to end up doing it anyways.
Aryia raises a brow at Star, somewhat impressed by the woman and taking mental notes on her technique. Perhaps it was best that she was here, just in case. Though, she glances to Seyardu, letting her do the talking.
Seyardu nods to the man and makes her way over to where she can find the arvek nar in question, with Aryia nearby. "You understood her, yet you do not show it. Strange." Seyardu notes before they reach the Arvek nar in question, draping the towel over one shoulder. "I do not know if I can trust you being here while we speak with her, given the information you have elected to withhold up to this point. It would defeat the purpose of us asking for her version of the story, after all."
"I wasn't planning on sticking around, thanks for telling me to do what I was going to do. Coyote cacks, you are demanding." Lars immediately makes tracks, as requested, so the conversation can happen without him. A gesture of trust, perhaps, or maybe he feels he has nothing to fear.
Firestarter releases her partner, they stand, there's a hug and a backslap and then she's left alone with the other two. She's immediately in a stance, "Who's first?"
She looks after Lars with a growl, then back to the pair, "Sorry about him. He's like that. So you aren't here to fight?"
She glances at Aryia, her right hand flickering, "Please fight." <handspeech>
Aryia blinks as she recognizes the sign. But more importantly, the 'please' part of it. She rolls her shoulders and gives a deep sigh, her dropping her gym bag down and stepping forward. She takes a moment to focus, watches as Lars leaves and cracks her neck.
She raises her fists.
"Ah, well, that is good." Seyardu nods, waving to them before they are gone, and out of earshot. She wraps the towel around her waist and ties it off, while she checks over the rest of her clothes.
"Celestial mother, sunder the magics around me, so the truths may be revealed." She offers in prayer. Which leaves her in the towel, the rest of her clothes disappearing save for a pair of black sleeves. She looks to the Arvek nar quickly, and sighs.
"Do not get too far, or the magic will dissipate. I am a friend of Braelnoir's. Lars is not actually your friend or partner, is he?" She asks with a raised brow. "Aryia, this man has been manipulating people with charm magic, I have heard." <Draconic>
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "we'll do opposed CMBs Aryia, and then you can pose coming out on top or not" GAME: Aryia rolls cmb: (17)+15: 32 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+17: (15)+17: 32 (Firestarter CMB)
The rising fists is all she needs.
Firestarter charges, tackling Aryia around the middle and pushing her back, then going with a leg sweep to take her down. Up close, she's sweaty, covered in grit and sand, smells like cinnamon and spice. Not the pleasant version, the scent of it blown up the nose enough to make the eyes water. She drops low, pushing the mul'niessa's centre of gravity over her hip.
Except... she can't... quite...
The anti-magic field takes effect at this moment, "Huuuuuh?" Little changes with the hobgoblin, she is fighting without magic, and her leather armour remains the same.
She's halfway through a throw and her relationships and all their issues are brought up. "RAHHHHHHHH!"
Aryia blinks as Star charges her, the mute hunkering down and getting off center so she wouldn't take the brunt of it. That's the thing to keep in mind when you're smaller than everyone. Redirect everything, don't brute force it.
When they drop low, she drops lower, not getting any ground, but not giving any. But, as the magic takes hold...
The mul feels a touch more defenseless as some of her items shut off. And she's almost thrown. Shit shit shit shit!
Aryia goes into the throw to try and bleed off any inertia she'd been gathering, her rolling with it and planting her feet back on the ground. She looks over at Seyardu with a wide eye'd glance, wondering what in Ea she just did.
Seyardu blinks when they begin fighting quickly, she was already in the process of casting her magic before she was caught off guard by it. Looking to the two grappling fighters, she holds up a hand.
"I do not wish to cause trouble, Firestarter." She states simply. "And apologies, Aryia. But I have been told what has been taking place possibly. Could you speak with us more about what has been going on?" The cleric asks. "If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. Braelnoir is concerned about you."
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+17: (9)+17: 26 (Firestarter CMB) GAME: Aryia rolls cmb: (7)+15: 22
Firestarter wasn't expecting Aryia to roll into the throw, nor the very distracting question, so she's carried over and lands badly, making another feral growl. Her amber eyes flare, her skin glittering like flame as she drops, bringing the mul'niessa down with her.
With both on their knees, she lurches forward, using her greater weight to bend Aryia back and pin her to the ground.
"LARS!" She's panting heavily, "Lars is an asshole! I hate him so much!"
Some heavy breathing follows, with her lying on top of Aryia, then finally, "Brae, she's okay? And her friend? Snowball?"
"They were going to help me..."
Oh fuck.
"-h F-ck."
Aryia's feet flail in the air as she brought down to the ground. Her face eats sand, and she spits a few times. Trying to find some way out of this. She thinks about using her other methods, but that'd be cheating. And besides, grappling was supposed to be /her/ thing!
She struggles in the pin, trying to use her flexibility to her advantage somehow...
Seyardu watches the two sparring, and Aryia losing, being pinned against the ground. The cleric sighs, and crouches down next to the two. "So that is the truth." She notes, waiting to help either of them up if needed. "Braelnoir is alright, I do not know a snowball. But she did not give up on trying to help. I promise you this."
"Firestarter, I believe Lars is still charming you to be with him. If you get too far from me, the spell will be back in effect. But it lasts for over an hour. I am asking you to trust me, and my friend Aryia, Jinks too, if he is able. We may need to go to the arcanist's dungeon anyways, it is a place where we can plan how to deal with it."
The flame coloured Arvek Nar looks over at Seyardu, crouched beside her, "Uh... uh. I mean, the white one of you that's her friend. The talky one."
Firestarter rolls off Aryia, releasing her and standing, a hand extended to help the Mul'niessa up, "Good fight."
"So. Yeah. Lars. I mean, yeah. Well, of course he is. I mean, that was the plan to let him think we weren't on so they could..." There's a panic in her eyes, "I'd tell him the plan if he asked, they had... I... I mean now, you're ready to get him now? You've got a plan in place?"
She stares at Seyardu, eyes pleading and hopeful.
Aryia sighs in relief and takes the offered hand, getting to her feet. She gives a thumbs up and a nod. It was a good fight. Though, she blinks owlishly, looking between the two with a rising anxiety. What..?
"Oh, yes, her, I know her. She is alright as well, Firestarter." Seyardu nods, helping her to her feet as well. She reaches into her bag, and pulls out a leather skirt, which she puts on quickly after fumbling with the towel. "Braelnoir, she did not tell me about a plan. What are you speaking of, you were aware of the charm?" She asks, one brow raised. "I wanted to see if we could talk, if you could be brought away from him, to remove the charms. But, I will speak with her, if she is ready to deal with them."
Once Aryia stands, there's a handshake and hug from Firestarter, followed by a solid clap on the back. Female bonding complete, she turns to the silverscale and the more confusing conversation that has interrupted her wrestling match.
The fiery Arvek runs her hand across her close shaved head, "Well, yuh, I knew. We figgur'd out he was charmin' us all, and that if we let on it'd be bad. So Brae was gonna plan something and just spring it."
"Lars is..." Her hands clench into fists. "Fuck. Fuck Fuck. I keep thinking he's not that bad then I remember, that's the charm. He's SO. SO.. RAAAAAAH!"
"Always dragging me out, always touching, always this 'him and the girls' and Kors Balls we make loads of gold but I'm... I thought I loved him! He keeps tellin' me it's fer my own good but it's the bloody Charm half the time I believe him. NO! All the time. AHH."
She clenches her fists at the sides of her head.
"But we know how he is. You do not need to think that way. We both know it is not true, no matter how hard he tries to convince you otherwise." Seyardu states, smiling to the Arvek Nar. "She can understand handsigns, if you wish to speak to her Aryia."
Then, she looks around to the others. "You do not need to stay with him, we will stop him, without you needing to remain with him. I would not wish to leave you back in that situation. But I cannot dispel the magics myself, while keeping this one up. We will need to go somewhere safe to do so."
The orange Arvek Nar shakes her head, sighing, "You don' understand. He finds me, he finds Braelnoir, hits us with a Charm spell when we aren' watchin'. It lasts all day."
She hangs her head, "We go adventuring, we're always up front, gettin' beat to hell'n'back with him in the back bein' himself. And it works, and it feels, for a mo', like it's real, 'cept it ain't. When the spell wears off I jess..."
Her hands clench in anger, the tendons standing out in the back and her arms, "an' he ALWAYS finds me. I thought fer... fer ever, that it was jes' a rocky love, y'know? But he's doin' this harem shit an' I jess..."
She stares at the silverscale, her eyes glowing, "He's got everyone believin' I'm some berserk, can't control meself an' I've said as much while charm'd. I been countin' on Brae."
"I mean... what was this, ta tell me you got a plan but not? We gotta jess..." her voice lowers, she looks at Aryira, at Seyardu, "jess kill him some way no one finds out."
And then the boys arrive.
Talking to the Mages
A short search, since a gnome is undertaking it, turns up one of the mages. She's standing near a small arena in the colosseum and looking through her spellbook.
Munch buzzes quietly at to the gnome. "I thought Guard preferred when we did their job. Kinda the whole business model. Don't like it when we ursurp their authority though." The golem shrugs, turning his focus to the mage and her book.
"... same city that does nothing to vet or qualify its mercenaries, charges them with protecting the realm, and then looks at us cockeyed because our methodology doesn't conform to some impossible standard." Jinks responds to Munch with a shrug. He turns and walks sideways, grinning lopsidedly as he adds, "Or shuts us out of our temples as we endure crises of faith."
The gnome kicks his foot back, dragging the toe of his boot across the ground to scrape in a softshoe sort of way. He catches air in the hop and spins, landing midstride and walking up to the magess. "Fair lady wizard with your book of spells, would you perchance have time to conjure an answer for a question of two?" He grins, warm and friendly, even as he watches her carefully for a reaction.
GAME: Jinks rolls Diplomacy: (7)+20: 27
The mage has an almond shaped face, a little too long and narrow, her eyes too wide. The sort of face which brings the thought 'she'd be more attractive if' immediately to mind, followed by a long list of options. As it is, she seems owl-like, with the neutral robes of the progressive arcanists. Her head raises from her studies.
"Yes? Oh. You." She immediately frowns, "any complaints, take it up with the bosses."
She jerks her thumb towards the heads on the two statues that oversee the fighting arena. The warm greeting from the gnome seems to win her over however, and she crouches down to be on his level, "Well, okay, just one or two."
Munch keeps to the background for now. Friendly questioning is not his forte, but if anyone needs some fingers broken, he'll be right there.
"I live a life without complaint," Jinks confides, stepping closer as he opens the top buckle of his armor and produces his flask. He's not too keen on tallfolk crouching down to talk to him like a child but he'll let it slide for the sake of moving things along. The cap of the flask squeeks quietly as he twists it off. "But Coyote curses me with curiosity... so here we are," the gnome winks.
"We were just wondering where you and your lot came into all this. Things went a bit sideways on us-- turned out a medusa was a lamia-- and we're sorting out this little riddle."
The mage seems unaware of her social error, then again, she's a mage. With all the learning she has to do to keep up with the elves, she doesn't have time for graces and will be dead before she's peaked in knowledge potential. These little side moments have to matter.
"Weeelll...." She holds her hand out, expecting the flask, "... that's what we were hired to do. Discretely throw spells to balance things out. The crowd is very primal, and while an intellectual defeat of a brute is an exceptional display... they'd usually prefer something bloody. So, slow spells, some petrifications, whatever we could do to further the illusion."
"I mean," she grins awkwardly, "It was four on one, and she had snakes, it wasn't really fair to start."
Munch peers around absently. The mage seems unlikely to run, so nothing to fret there for now. Across the way, the Sith seems to not be wearing clothes. Neither is the golem, so likely not a problem.
Jinks has his drink and then passes it to the woman, inhaling contentedly as the powerful warmth of the drink spreads from his throat and gut out to the rest of him. "Hired by whom?" He wonders casually, glancing back at Munch briefly. "And my fellow-- the barker-- says the lamia had volunteered to fight for payment after coming to the city seeking wealth. But I've also heard this was an execution-by-combat at her request." He sucks his teeth and manages a puzzled expression.
"Maybe it would make more sense if I'd paid attention to my studies." He admits with a sigh, leaning into a bit of flattery. "Drummed out of the Most Esteemed Mage's Institution of Clockwork Point when I was young; wasn't as smart as some people." He continues to smile at the woman.
GAME: Munch rolls diplomacy: (2)+2: 4
Munch is bigger than most folk. Brute force works pretty well. But he is curious what's going on over there. He glances back to the mage and gnome, idly curious what spells the smallman learned in his schooling.
The mage takes a flask, takes a sip. She gasps a little as it burns. "The colosseum. They hire, students, journeypersons, more advanced mages, to summon things. I'm on a contract. Except, no summons, so they make do. Gotta feed the sands, gotta feed the stands."
"And... ah. I mean... normally... it doesn't really matter if the summons dies. They go back to their plane of origin. I don't think the lamia would agree to that, like, who would. I thought the barker was making stuff up. They give out scripts." She shrugs, grimaces.
"Look, can I trust you? You seem smart." She makes consoling noises.
Munch isn't, but go on...
GAME: Jinks rolls Diplomacy: (15)+20: 35
"Did you see Tribune?" Jinks wonders, taking a step closer to conspire. "I'm Jinks. That Jinks," he smiles wide enough to split his face, showing his teeth. Even after the sweating he smells faintly of lavender and bath oils. He reaches to take back his flask, brushing his fingers against hers. The leather of his gloves if fine and so-very soft.
"I'm a hero," he lies, nudging her with his shoulder as he takes another drink. "Of course you can trust me."
"Guiding light! The Jinks! The one that defeated the demon Eclavdran? Helped defeat the demon. Oh wow, oh wow." She's read the tribune, she recognizes the accomplishment, "Oh gods, oh, I didn't put makeup on today. I.."
There's a glance towards Munch, at the imposing artifice that seems to be all teeth, with an immense axe.
The mage close up her book, stares into Jinks' face. Her eyes a little wide for this to be comfortable for him, "Okay, so. I get paid well to cast 'Flesh to Stone', really well, and with the temples being all strange lately, it costs a lot to get that reversed."
"So the bosses want adventurers stoned, that if the big dumb brutes are going for bloodsports... well, they signed on. If they're told they're fighting a medusae, they expect they might get petrified, so... calculated risk on their part."
She shrugs, with an awkward grin, "I mean, none stuck on your team, it's not guaranteed. So, some of the things they're doing are sketchy, but..."
Another glance at Munch, then back at Jinks, "They're fighters! You know what they're like." She mouths, 'dumb'.
Munch is just here in case there's a problem, looming in the distant background. He's not hear to listen in on secrets, he doesn't even have ears. Sure, the entire surface of his head is sensitive to minor vibrations in the air, but that's not the point.
Axe. Reaver the clone/brother/child of Munch is an axe.
"Clever thing. I hope you get your fair share of the payment changing them back." Jinks laughs, shaking his head. "And don't worry yourself; you look quite lovely just as you are." He has another drink and offers the flask back, breathing the warm alcohol's burn out through his nose. It makes his cheeks flush and his eyes tear subtly, appearing more inebriated and unguarded than he actually is.
"Truth be told... I was in it for the money. Always am." The gnome leans in even closer, their noses almost touching as he mutters, "(let the big dumb ones stand in front and take the brunt of it; hang back and get paid)" He grins and puts a hushing finger to his lips. Trusting her with the secret. "Your bosses. Do you have a name? I could always use another source of income... I'd be... very grateful."
Munch is a meatshield. Well, he's not meat, but is content with the task. His real skills are breaking things and hurting people, but damage sponge is high on the resume. And he's okay with that, looming quietly as the two magic uses drink and flirt... that is flirting, right?
The mage takes another sip, her cheeks also flushing as she gasps for breath, asking with admiration, "how can you handle this?"
Another cough, and indulgent grin at the shared whisper, their noses almost touching, "Right?"
"It's Priscaelyn, and I can get you to them." She points up at the heads of the two statues overlooking the combat field, Angoron and Kor, "They're up there."
"They view Adventurers as a renewable resource. There will always be more, same as monsters. They'll pay to fight 'em, to be fixed, to get better weapons to fight 'em." She takes another sip, "Just business, long as they can pay, milk 'em and stand back and let them do their thing. Maybe sometimes they'll save the whole fricking world."
"The rest of the time... profit!"
Munch tries to think if he's ever saved the world... maybe the city... as was the time he fought Heth... well, threw a rock at Heth... Heth didn't notice...
"Priscaelyn," Jinks tries the name on, twisting the syllables into a little melody. "Could I call you Pris?" He glances at the flask and chuckles, "Now that's my magic trick. Like the mourners I am adept with spirits."
Black eyes turn up, following her finger as she points towards the towering walls for the second time. "I should like that, Miss Pris, it's a date. Would you mind terribly if I collected my associates first? Better to have the whole crew on hand for contract negotiations..."
"Of course not, that's fine, and you may call me Pris, of course." The mage smiles, glancing over shoulder, "It seems my prior engagement has arrived, so if you want to get your associates, I've got a bit of show-spelling to do."
Priscaelyn hands back the flask and stands with a little wave, "Thanks for saying hello. It's very nice to meet you Jinks. I feel empowered just by you standing there."
"A real hero. Wow."
Jinks lifts a hand in parting and smiles, turning to walk back to Munch after the girl has seen herself off. The gnome sighs, frowns, and rubs idly at his chest under the coat. "That... didn't feel great." He admits, shaking his head. "I could use a bath after we wrap up here."
"Back to the other tallmen?"
Munch shrugs. "I don't think they're men, but sure."
And then the boys arrive.
Munch is ready. Just point an say 'Fetch'... wait, we're trying for that 'subtle' thing... maybe Munch should sit this one out... but if you need a body to disappear...
Aryia can't help but scowl. Yep. That guy is totally going to get a taste of the dirt if they ever managed to get him alone. She gives a reassuring smile to Star. She didn't know her well, but Aryia has her back.
"You can not keep putting yourself through this. We will find a way." Seyardu offers, putting one hand on the arvek-nar's shoulder. "Braelnoir has not given up, neither should you. And I will not give up hope. There is a way to be free of him, and it will be found."
Seyardu looks around, and sighs. If only she could trust the guard enough to come forward about the situation, but that likely would not happen. "He is overconfident. I know magics that can help against being charmed, and spells for dispelling them."
"The nethercite dungeons." Jinks suggests after he's returned and heard of Star's plight and Lars' magical manipulations. "We need to go there to talk to the lamia, anyway. Come with us and seek asylum with the Arcanists. It might not be the most glamorous of accommodations but it takes you off the board until we have a proper plan.
"I have a few friends in the dormitories. I'm sure we can fix it up so you're comfortable." The gnome looks between Aryia, Munch, and Seyardu. He'll describe the colosseum's scam en route. "We can try and find a way to deal with Lars as quickly as possible."
Talking to gnomes, halflings and goblins
https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/001/269/306/43c.png
