Portside Underground Part 2

Log Info

• Title: Portside UnderGround

• GM: Aelwyn

• Characters: Slixvah, Rune, Harkashan, Simony

• Place: Port Alexandria

• Summary: In Media Res from Portside_Underground

The Misfits may have played in the seediest clubs and take the shittiest jobs - but they were no fools. In fact, the all possessed remarkable grace, as they neatly ducked and weaved out of the way. Even the dwarf - who seemed to also enjoy a hefty morning drink.

"Okay, okay, ye lads! Time a-cuttin'!" The dwarf calls out, pulling out his short blade. The boss of them glances at the others and gives a quick nod, before the rest of the group pulls their own blades. Or in the case of the half-oruch barbarian, cracks his knuckles.

The gang boss suddenly looks behind him and snarls at the elven woman, "Didn't I tell you to bring the damn lute?"

" I thought you were joking-"

"Just keep the damn box safe!" The human yells at the elven woman, who flashes her teeth as she keeps her eyes on the box.

And then it hits Slixvah. It was just not her lute that was playing.

A sudden, violent roaring scream and a high pitched laugh fills the space - echoing in the room as if screamed by an amused banshee.

That's right before the real music starts. A famously infamous voice suddenly calls out,

"Welcome back, my friends

To the show that never ends

We're so glad you could attend!

Come inside! Come inside!"

A familiar group of vagrants have appeared on the foyer, wielding instruments of death and musical prowess. Or cheap lutes, a broom with cat gut string and harmonica's; playing a fiercely cheerful jaunty tune as the pompadour wearing singer hits the stage. Yes, him.

"You've got to see the show, it's a real laugh and a row!"

And thus, the real dance of blades begins.

GAME: Harkashan casts Bless. Caster Level: 9 DC: 16
GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18
GAME: Simony rolls will: (19)+10: 29
GAME: Simony casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17
GAME: Harkashan rolls Will: (19)+12: 31
GAME: Harkashan casts Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 9 DC: 20
GAME: Harkashan rolls Intimidate: (4)+4: 8

Simony makes a beeline for a large crate, where she puts her back to it. Her notebook is pulled from a pouch on her belt, along with a pencil. The pencil waggles back and forth quickly as she draws out her intention. The Goblin on the page is larger than the other characters, and it is highlighted by a glow as it presents its holy symbol.

The others are drawn in chibi style, and they appear to exhibit super speed, flashing attacks and graceful dodging abilities.

As speed and energy fills Harkashan's vein's, his legs begin to move. Cutting a mighty jig as the band begins to play up above. Moving his head with the music, he throws his arms out.

A set of semi-transparent wings suddenly burst from his back, half-draconic, yet with red gleaming feathers. Far more visible and present than they've been in the past. A red splash of light eminating from him for a moment as he roars, before he jumps forward with a fierce beat of his draconic-like wings, and landing just a few feet from the foe furthest to the front - scarring the ground.

"Rethink your plan now, for you will not survive what comes next." As that deep dirge cotninues.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls +13: (12)++13: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 9: (3)+9: 12
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 12: (9)+12: 21

The drummer above starts to slam hard on those metal cans of his - the metal pipe clanging with anger against the top as Harkashan reveals his full angelic form.

Only to briefly pause to make a bit of a cute flourish with the fiddle and lute players.

"Back off wings! You don't know what you are dealing with!" The human in the middle seethes, holding out his sword.

There's a deep breath, and then the apparent boss and the singer of the Misfits breaks out into an angry, aggressive song.

"Where the angel stands in glory

His spear of peace defends the night

But the angel is deceiving

For he is weeping as he sings!"

The web obviously frustrates him, but he doesn't move to risk it, instead standing still with utter disregards to the approaching group.

Meanwhile, the quiet half-orc slams his fist against the crate he was leaning against and crouches low. Hiding behind the thick web strands, he slowly starts to creep towards the boxes on the unwebbed side of the bridge; attempting to hide behind them. His freshly pulled cestuses seemed very needlessly thick and unwieldy.

GAME: Slixvah rolls will: (9)+10: 19

Elvish Slixvah grins wide as he sees everything unfold before him. This is madness. And man was it delightful to see unfold. Sudden energy fills him, making that mana within reach more volatile as he makes a few gestures with his free hand, finishing with a lifting motion. "I do regret this endeavor is nev-er, in your fervor-" he pauses. "... wait, that didn't rhyme in time."

He's distracted. Or perhaps its those wings that burst out from Harkashan that has his attention, were the whistle that spills out anything to go by.

The elf shakes his head, taking a twirling step to the side as he whips out a wand from seemingly no where.

"Damp with sweat, mouth is dry,

His frustrated snarl catches the eye,

Besides him the angel stands,

You cannot touch her sweet hands!"

The short dwarf shouts in chorus, hand on his chest as he gestures flamboyantly with his hand. The behind the two snaps her mouth down into a thin line - it was hard to say if she was blushing or getting angry at the moment. Still, the performance was surprisngly accordant - even if the dwarf probably was the better singer in the Misfit Marauders.

GAME: Rune rolls perform/dance+12: (7)+9+12: 28
GAME: Rune rolls stealth+4+2: (3)+18+4+2: 27
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 8: (19)+8: 27
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 8: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 6: (13)+6: 19

From Rune's hiding place, she has no way of seeing the strange angelic effect around Harkashan, otherwise she might have been tempted to make a comment, or... in this case a verse?

Feeling the familiar magic spurring on her movements, she charges out with a surprisingly athletic grace, moving with the rhythm of the song being played and bouncing off of walls at just the right moment to accentuate the beat. Her foot catches on the edge of the railing over the water, but she launches forward, tumbling in the air to land in a crouch.

Then, rolling to her feet, those footfalls sound with the same high-energy of the music as she vaults with a dancer's grace up the stairs and slides in behind one of the larger crates, using it to try to block herself from view of the enemy. If nothing else, she's now behind them, though the drive of the song means she isn't as focused on stealth as she might otherwise have been.

The vagabond band has its fiddle player step up to the ledge and he _slides_ that catgut bow in a dramatic arc, before he starts a very upbeat, merry jig to offset the standoff down below. Or perhaps, they were simply inspired by the feat of acrobatics nobody saw.

"There's something behind us!" The elven woman suddenly says, her practised ears hearing familiar sounding footsteps. With equal nimbleness, she slowly stretches her body around the webbing covering most of the bridge. Flicking out a dagger, she calls out with a croon. "Come out, wherever you are..."

Well, an acrobatic feat nearly nobody saw.

GAME: Simony rolls craft/painting: (16)+9: 25
GAME: Simony casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16
GAME: Harkashan rolls Perform/Oratory+2: (6)+4+2: 12
GAME: Harkashan rolls Spellcraft: (16)+14: 30

The Goblin makes a sympathetic face as the Misfits are gooped up with web. "Ewh, that stuff is always so messy." Harkashan's sudden sprouting of wings has Simony pause, her eyes wide. "Are... those real?" She gives her head a shake, and runs forward to the next large crate, eyeing the Misfit so close to the edge of the web. The Gobbo pulls her warhammer from its loop on her belt.

"A little bit closer...."

Her quick sketch on the scene is mostly taken up by angel wings for some reason, but also depicts a larger-than-life Goblin empowering themselves with plate armor. In one corner of the sketch "MISFITS SUX" is crudely written in tradespeak.

Harkashan, knowing Rune's tactics even though he can't see her right this minute, flaps those wings. The boss shakes his concentration on the dirge he's singing, making it difficult for him to cast a new spell. Instead, landing between the Elf and Dwarf and Half-Orc without the use of the spell he'd intended to cast...

Yet, he still has a grin on his face, as the Sith-makar slowly breathes out a heated red breath, staring at them.

"Do I not? Do I not see the green shifting and warping tendrils dancing at our feet? Do I not see the warping green runes around those chains?" He asks the human, before he suddenly turns his head, trying to see something his ears picked up on near him.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls 4: (20)+4: 24
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 4: (19)+4: 23
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 3: (8)+3: 11

The winged angel, or rather demon as far as the Misfit Marauder's leader is concerned, flies away and the human curses underneath his breath. "Keep the box safe! Keep the damn box safe!" The human shouts at his group, before he wheels around. "Hey!" He then yells at Simony, pointing at her drawing.

"Cry the town, cry the town, unknown terror's here,

We're pain, we're steel, a plot of strings,

We're Misfit Marauders!"

The human bellows with a ragged, harsh voice before slamming into Simony, knocking her over.

As Harkashan lands besides the box and between all the rest of the group, the half-orc hoists up his fists and attempts to box the sith-makar square in the jaw - but suddenly, he stops. Vomit slides off his mouth, and he stumbles back.

Elvish Slixvah sighs as her good plan seems to be slipped under like a well choreographed dance routine. He catches an errant thread of web into his hand, and gives it a hard yank. Like a snapped, taut string, the entire ephemeral web coating the bridge unravels at breakneck speed, only to vanish with a paff of cyan energies.

He then strolls forward. "Now lemme tell ya, ain't kind ta hit a lady. Especially when they're down," he warns, the absurd pompadour haircut shaking somewhat before it extends and snakes out, like a viper ready to pounce.

"Gods, softskin hair is weird," he bluntly comments, breaking character.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Will: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)

There's a good cheered laughter from the short dwarf. "Y'e doofus!" He says to the half-orc. "We went over this!" For some reason, the whole situation doesn't seem to phase him anyway.

Instead, he turns towards Harkashan, beard bristling, as he breaks into a most seductive voice.

"I want a guard, in red,

Without a cloth,

blood red,

Goes so hot,

My beard's lit,

Down the curl,

Instead, stay a while, longer..."

The band mellows down, accentuating each phrase with poignant pluck and low thrumming sound from the harmonica.

GAME: Rune rolls will: (19)+7: 26
GAME: Rune rolls perform/song+2+1: (3)+perform/song+2+1: 6
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 4: (15)+4: 19

"You idiot! Don't hurt them!" The human boss shouts from across the bridge, hearing his companion vomit. "Shit! Shit! That damn nutjob!"

"Doofus, we went over this! No blood!" The elf for her part flicks her hair. She just barely turns around on the box as Rune comes with most vicious intent. With barely a time, she manages to hop off the top of the box.

She returns the attempt in kind, flipping her knife around to try and club her in the head with it - but it is hard dance atop a crate.

GAME: Simony rolls will: (11)+10: 21

With the enemies gathering around the box and Harkashan moving into the fray, there is a spike of adrenaline that seizes Rune. The fact that the dwarf is turning attention to Harkashan, driving her mate under a spell of some sort.

"Hey, there, you bearded thot.

That's my man so you better back off.

Get off the box.

Or else you'll be shocked,

As we give you an introduction to the school of hard knocks."

Rune's voice isn't all that bad, though perhaps her poetry could use some work. She's far better at the physical than she is at coming up with music on the fly.

Her blade still slices in the air, though, looking ominous and dripping acid.

Simony grunts as she's knocked down, and a toothy frown graces her expression. On the strength of her blessing, she performs a kip-up and ends up on her feet, warhammer in hand. "Nice knees you have there... shame if someone were to warhammer them."

The Gobbo's eyes widen as a wave of nausea hits her, and she wobbles slightly, her hammer lowering. "You know.. this really sucks..."

GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (19)+5: 24
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d6: (3): 3

Harkashan can't help but be momentarily dazzled by the dwarf's voice. Listening with curiousity of a red guard. He's a red guard! Why does a song make him feel a bit giddy in the tummy?

But then Rune intercedes, calling her own little rhyme. Reminding him of his place in this 'battle'.

"I am going to take that box." He growls at the elf. "And I am going to undo this strange magic and curse. So you can either get off of the chest, or I will remove you from it." He motions to the side. "And I promise you, you won't enjoy what's in that water when I do." He rumbles to her.

Clap. Clap clap clap. Clap. Clap clap clap.

The Vagrants start to slam down a beat in tune to Rune's poetry slamming, the actual pompadour sporting singer joining in.

"Come and see

Where I witness everything,

On my knees,

Get it down my soul!"

Meanwhile, the Boss seethes between his teeth as he dodges the warhammer. "Idiots! All of you are idiots! Don't you hear?" His blade comes down and swipes at Simony with the flat of it.

Meanwhile, the half-orc moves to evacuate his stomach by the side of the boxes.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (18)+5: 23
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d6+3: (4)+3: 7
GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap+2+1: aliased to intelligence+BAB+2+1: (7)+5+3+2+1: 18
GAME: Slixvah rolls perform/oratory: (14)+9: 23
GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap+2+1: aliased to intelligence+BAB+2+1: (13)+5+3+2+1: 24
GAME: Harkashan rolls Khopesh: aliased to weapon3-strength+wisdom: (17)+0+-1+5: 21
GAME: Harkashan rolls damage1: aliased to 1d8+1: (4)+1: 5

Not-Slixvah grimaces as Simony looks woosy from the attempt hit. The elf steps around and between the guy, getting a hit in the sides with a groan as he skips up to the elf on a box. "Oi! Ya looking spry! It's time ta fly!"

The pompadour unravels into a wide arc, and slams into the other elf, sending them flying to the waters below.

GAME: Rune rolls perform/dance+2+1: (11)+9+2+1: 23

"Ah, well. 'ight as well tried that." There's another good natured laugh as the dwarf rubs his beard for a second, watching the elf fly over the edge. "Ye, ye lasses play rough."

And with that, he flings himself at Harkashan, trying to knock him off his feet as well - but instead gets hit in the head by the khopesh!

"I'm still standing! I'm still standing!" The Vagrants shout out, now moved to a more boogie groove.

GAME: Rune rolls damage0+2: aliased to 1d3+0+2: (1)+0+2: 3

"You don't like my blades, but want to get down?

Well, I still have fists.

Welcome to pound-town."

Rune drops her weapons and raises her fists, stepping around the chest and approaching the dwarf with malicious intent. Her brows are furrowed and her lips set into a thin line.

She steps right up to him and slams a fist into his face. The half-elf doesn't punch particularly hard, but something suggests that she is just getting started.

"I'm getting tired of these little duet.

This is no mere threat.

Touch him again and I'll make you regret."

"Fuck!" The elf screams as she is suddenly slammed by _hair_. HAIR. Of all things HAIR. Off she goes around the ledge and she hits the knee high water with all the indignity one can have when slamming into potential poop water.

"We'll get you for that!" She shouts, as she makes a quick getaway to the top.

The Vagrants joins Rune's song - the pompadour providing back up 'Yeah!' and the lute player heavy, powerful slams and arpeggios. rWhat the adventurers might not notice, is the thin lines of blood streaming from the players' fingers. The drummer's leaving more blood on the cans than stick. The fiddle player has it flowing from his ears. Even the pompadour-proper-not-Elvis' singer's eyes are bloodshot.

GAME: Simony rolls craft/painting: (11)+9: 20
GAME: Simony rolls weapon2+1: (17)+7+1: 25
GAME: Simony rolls weapon2+1: (12)+7+1: 20
GAME: Simony rolls damage0: aliased to 1d2+1: (1)+1: 2
GAME: Simony rolls damage0: aliased to 1d2+1: (1)+1: 2
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (20)+5: 25
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (6)+5: 11
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d6: (4): 4

Simony, not surprisingly, is not fond of being smacked by the flat of a blade. The paints come out, the colours smeared by dainty fingers. It looks like one of the fancy billboards announcing the arrival of some famous bard, or play, or circus company. MISFITS RULE! Done in red. With a surprisingly decent likeness of each of the 'band' members.

There's a pause, before the Gobbo adds a D. MISFITS DRULE!!

"Back to basics..." She drops her warhammer with a thump, and rolls up her sleeves, showing off knuckles and forearms that have seen some abuse. Making a pair of little fists, each one cracking knuckles, she advances on the Bossman, starting the long process of tenderizing his kneecaps.

GAME: Harkashan rolls Perform/Oratory+2: (15)+4+2: 21
GAME: Harkashan rolls Perform/Dance: (5)+3: 8

Splash. Into the poop hair the elf goes. Harkashan didn't even have to lift a finger to get that one done. He does give Slixvah a bit of a 'blep' look, his tongue out, and the strangest expression.

Before quickly using the flat side of his blade to swat at the charmer as they try to rush past him, sheathing his blade, and grabbing the chest. "I'm getting this out of here."

Grabbing it, gripping into the chains with his claws, and his wings lift off as he;

"I wanna fly like an Egalrin, to the sea, fly like an Egalrin, let my spirit carry mePetros (talk) I wanna fly like an Egalrin until you're all free!"

It was beginning to be all over. The Marauders, as they were, were left in the dust, the box was flying and with final burst of winged glory, the music was winding down. The Box was safe.

Then for one more turn, the pompadour rocking singer steps forward - and the band, bloodied and battered, slam their instruments together. The harmonica plays a steady, undying tone as the player of the lute smacks his strings in ravaged beat, while the drummer dances around like a little fae creature...

... and lilting, it all begins to down wind to a quiet, gentle tone.

With a rueful voice, the singer announces,

"The rusted chains of prison glooms

Are shattered by the sand

They walk a road, horizons change

The tournament's begun,

The yellow jester does not play, but gently pulls the strings

And smiles as the puppets dance,

In the court of the crimson queeeen!"

The chief of the marauders looks _once_ towards the Vagrant band. Blood was obvious over their features now. Panic. Dread. Knowing what is to come. "You!" He points at Harkashan, "You! " He scrambles, back to his feet. "You have to get me out of here! Now! Don't let them get me!"

The rest of the Marauders stop, looking with confusion at each other. "Th'heck are you on mate?" The dwarf finally asks, with a burp.

The Goblin blinks as it all seems to be over as suddenly as it began. Eyeing Harkashan flying with the box, she calls out, "Rune, Slixvah, Harkashan? You alright?"

Simony begins to collect the sketches and the band poster, and then retrieves her warhammer.

"And uhm... anyone able to explain what the heck this was? What's in the box? Why does everyone want it? And I can't dance to save my life..."

Not-Slixvah snickers as he hears threats of pain towards him from the maneuver. "Sorry, not sorry!" he calls out, him grinning towards Hark and snorting from the blep. And then he spreads his wings and mosies on out of there with /style/

He stares. And he looks over to Rune. "Lucky gal, ya guy is hot," she bluntly commends.

And then all the madness comes to a crescendo, and a quiet end. The performer elf cranes his head up to the Vagrant band. Tilts his head, spying the blood from the distance before looking back to the the harried man. "... this some kinda mussed up band that never ends?"

He glances to Simony. "Th' box is a weird enigma thingy. I'm good."

The moment Harkashan seizes the box and makes off with it, there is some measure of relief there in Rune's expression. However, it hardens again as she looks towards the remaining Marauders. Her fists are still raised, threateningly. "I'm fine, are we done fighting?"

There is some obvious confusion there. "So... what's the deal with the fucking box?"

Then, with a smirk, she looks to not-Slixvah, "In more ways than one, yeah. Normally I don't care who he makes eyes at, but I'm not fond of anyone being forced into anything by magic." She chuffs once, then shrugs her shoulders.

Harkashan keeps flying off, breaking as far away from the team as he can. He doesn't know the range of this thing, but last he heard, the band was still under its control. So he continues. On and on.

Beyond the treshold of Alexandria if he must. Bringing it to the coast, so that someone more wise to the arcane and wyrd can inspect the box and deal with it appropiately. Bringing this device into the Guild seems most unwise.

So, fly he must, and fly he does. Singing through the skies. His wings shifting, flapping as the 'dragon' takes flight!

Simony side-eyes Not-Slixvah. "Pff, haw haw haw. Though, he does have a very interesting colouration. And the fact that he's a portable heat source would be desirable on cold winter nights. Though I cannot imagine a hot muggy night in Am'shere..." She makes a face, and nods in Rune's direction. "Yeah, using magic to bend people's will is really icky."

The Gobbo blinks, peering upwards. "Erm... he's still going up. Er, is that a good idea? I mean.. won't that box attract people to it? I am curious to know what's in it but... is it worth it?"

"Sorry lass, once in a war..." The Dwarf says, holding up his hands. "No free tickets for either of you fucks!" The elf seethes. The half-orc just looks content he is not hungover anymore.

But as Harkashan starts to fly away, the music suddenly changes.

Dun. Dun. Dah. ... Dih! Dun. Dun Dah. Dan.

Like a little musical box given to a child. In a circus.

A masked figure in a skintight suit, in the background, steps onto the stage, stepping around the ragged looking band. Step. Twirl. Step. Pause. Swirl? Dun, duh... din...

The Marauder looks behind him, utterly heedless of any words or actions. "Get me out of here!" He spits at Simony, eyes bulging out of his face. "Now- tch-grk."

The tip of a dagger protrudes from his mouth, with a little crimson red ribbon hanging off one end. Lightly, the figure clad in skintight, dark and checkered jester's outfit, turns to look at the group. In a mask of black and red, a cheerful grin painted with tears running down its cheeks in laughter, the figure leans forward and takes hold of the ledge with one hand. One dagger remains pinned between the toes.

A second and two later, as the leader of the Marauders stands staggered and looks on with horrified tears in his face, the dagger bursts into flames.

"AAAAHHH-!" The singer shouts over the marauder's pained agony, the rest of the band joining into the cacophony, the melody from before sounding like an explosion of sound, like aggressive whips all striking at once in the air.

Then the band finally collapses upon their instruments and blood; the box is gone, and the leader of Misfit Marauders is dead.

The red jester does not play.

"Yeah, don't even get me started on Am'shere nights." Rune murmurs, but she doesn't elaborate on that.

Why? Because what plays out in front of them is nothing short of what one might expect from a stage performance. Except, this does not look staged in the least bit.

The words are taken out of her mouth momentarily as she stands there, brows raised. Then, looking at the jester, perched there like some ominous creature of death and mayhem, Rune tilts her head, "I probably don't want to know what all this was about, do I?" She doesn't really expect an answer, it seems.

"Probably going to be one hell of an explanation we need to make to the guard, though." Groan. Rune is not looking forward to sitting through that kind of questioning and paperwork. Yep, she's more concerned about the paperwork than the dead man before her.

Elfish Slix glances at Simony. Smiles sweetly. And croons, "Bless your heart." She winks at Rune, nodding his head in agreement before turning towards the Maurder leader-

He blinks at the sudden violence, the dagger. And promptly joins the singer in screaming, "EY YO WHAT THE FUCK!"

The Goblin turns when the Marauder boss begs her for help. "Well, I am not sure what is going on here, so hang on a moment while we..." She gasps at the dagger suddenly sprouting from his mouth, and whimpers as it catches fire. Watching on in horror, she moves to the body to attempt bringing the man back.

"Why?", she says mournfully... turning to stare at the jester.

The jester slips onto its feet, foot on the dagger. Hands slide around the mask - and with a near polite manner, twists their head sideways. The head continues to turn - until it is completely upside down, the once cheerful grin twisted into a horrified cry.

Finally, the figure turns around and disappears, leaving the courtyard in silence.

Except then the elf woman screams, as the rest of the Marauders stand there dumbstruck. The half-orc vomits again.