WuaS: Happy Valley
Log Info
- Title: WuaS: Happy Valley
- Emitter: Aryia
- Characters: Paenitia, Randolf, Seyardu, Venom, Bannon
- Place: Happy Valley
- Time: Tuesday, October 12, 2021, 6:54 PM
- Summary: The group assisting Orzil is joined by Bannon, Inquisitor of Tariel and generally awesome guy. They teleport to Happy Valley to discover that the gnomes are going to a show about star crossed lovers. Or Rune. Right, Rune in the Snow. I don't get plays. After mingling with the crowd and largely standing out, due to most being twice the height of the gnomes, the group gets into the immense theater. The play progresses, then the heroes are called to be a part of it as the audience falls dead asleep. Not dead, dead, just really under. Battle Ensues! The group flying on stage and surrounding Vicrah and it's many images, only to be wounded in a shocking sweep of its blade. Seyardu realizes the metal above the stage empowers the being, and contains the metal block with a magic circle. This weakens it enough that everyone moves in, with Ramirez managing the kill with a solid peck from his beak. Vicrah vanishes, promising to hunt them in their nightmares, while Nariel appears, saying they have weakened him but it is not over yet.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Players -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Bannon 5'9" 195 Lb Human Male A shorter man of Tsuran heritage, with a thin moustace and goatee. Randolf 4'10" 280 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A burly, well-dressed Khazad in wizardly robes. Venom 5'6" 130 Lb Human Female A woman(?) about 5'6" in a ragged black veil and poncho. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith'Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The Dueling Lovers -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Vicrah Starmetal Being Male A gigantic, dark winged figure with a scythe. Nariel Starmetal Being Female A tiny, faerie like comet person, from beyond. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Director -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a lost look about her. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Lobby
Everyone is given a brief rundown. Vicrah, a Nightmare from beyond, is the other fallen star that landed some weeks ago. Nariel, the tiny celestial from the original falling star, mentioned that Vicrah was moving. Which meant that someone had found a chunk of the stone. But what prompted such an emergency was that Vircah didn't. Stop. Moving. And it was only until Nariel felt that it actually changed direction and stopped that bright red flags were began being thrown everywhere for everyone.
If one does not have an alabaster medallion, you are given one.
You find yourself on a teleportation circle within the Arcanist's Soiety, perperations already underway to get you all moving.
Arcanist Bozli, the half-sil man you all have been working with, is methodically yet briskly getting the incantation together. "Based on some charts and maps, Nariel suspects Vicrah is near, or IN Pleasant Valley. And... well. This is unfortunate. As it is the second Tariday. And Happy Valley is very serious about their plays on the second Tariday."
A small, foot and a half tall white winged figure clad in white and gold robes with a yellow veil on speaks in chimes and notes. "Remember, my Star Chasers. You are safe from their influence. As long as I am with you."
Bozli clears his throat. "I'd ask if anyone has any last minute requests and questions, but we haven't the time. So. Good luck. Ambul."
With the word of power, the circle flares to life, arcane runes growing in power and energy. There's a sudden shudder on the ground, dust being lifted, and a ring of blueish-violet light surrounds all.
It fades away.
The air is cold. The sounds of nature filter in. And the ground is paved. A short sign on the ground nearby has a neat lettering that reads:
Happy Valley. Distance: right around the corner.
Ramirez is very happy with his alabaster medallion. It matches his feathers. It was a gift from his mistress. It is white and magical, just like he is. It is fantastic. Yes.
'Ruaaaawck!' The peacock-andalusian is not expecting a teleport. He does not like them. No. His stomach is upset now.
Paenitia pats his foreleg, "The upset will pass, then we have the running. We have the moment to settle first." She looks around at the group, her armour creaking. "So, what is the plan?"
Randolf carefully rolls up a length of parchment and tucks it into a thin metal scroll case. This gets tucked into the bandolier slung around his waist, putting the brace of scrolls within easy reach at his hip. At Bozli's direction, he steps into the teleportation circle. He sets his jaw, pulling a deep breath. The burly dwarf is all business, gently brushing his thumb over his alabaster medallion as he awaits the transport.
As the waveform begins to collapse and the magic is wrought, he squinches his eyes shut and grits his teeth. Only once he's certain that he wasn't teleported into the side of a mountain or the heart of a star does he blink his eyes open again. His breath puffs steam on the chilly air, and he turns in a full circle. He lays eyes on the sign and puffs up his chest. "Think we made it, friends!" He glances over at his comrades. "I've got Protection From Evil scrolls. An' Locate Object scrolls. An' a bunch of other scrolls. Ye need scrolls? I got scrolls."
The shrouded one continues to stare at her piece of glass for a few moments as the arcanist continues speaking. She comes back to it at the intonation about 'last requests' and hastily tucks her memento.... wherever it is under her poncho that such things end up.
Bamf!
Venom teeters a moment in the wake of the sudden translocation, on hand rising hastily, if noncommittally toward her veiled face, as the other blindly reaches out to the side for soft... feathery support.
A new addition to the group quickly introduces himself as Bannon Vayne, an employee of the Tarienite church, though he doesn't go into more detail. He smiles quickly as he receives the medallion, looking over it and then raising a hand to it. He closes his eyes, says a quick prayer, then studies it again. Just as quickly, they're are ushered towards teleportation site. He throws the amulet over his neck, does one last check of his supplies, and is wooshed off. As they apparate at the target location, the man takes a few minutes to reorient himself. As he notices the sign, he emits a quick 'huh' and then comments, "Good aim."
He looks towards Randolf for a moment, grins, and then replies, "We may talk later."
The medallion is alabaster in color and simple in design: just a pressed circle with a rough texture. It glows the faintest color of yellow, and the shadows that splay across the surface remind one of nebulae in the night sky.
Seyardu was there at the notice given, as the situation was one that was one that needed to be dealt with quickly. And finding news about the stone closest to the gnomish settlement being found, her things for the day were abandoned, so she could prepare to head out. With the others present, she nods, but before she can speak more, they are sent out of the guild.
The silver Makari takes a moment to collect herself as she looks around, and then to the others.
"I was not expecting such a direct route to it, but the speed will be in our favor. Peace on your nest, Bannon. Is everyone else alright to go?"
Bamf!
The path winds off past a hill. To those that have been here, the town is not but a hop, skip, and a jump away.
There is a shimmer beside Seyardu, constellations twinkling before it briefly solidifies into the floating, celestial figure from before.
Nariel closes their eyes, concentrating for a moment. Their wings droop. "... Vicrah is close," flat notes chime to the group, them pointing tot he path ahead. "And their presence is... confusing. Focused yet splintered..."
Bannon picks himself up and then grins indefatigably, "Yes!" As an aside, he quips, "Any more direct, we would have promptly been slapped and had a drink thrown in our face!" He looks towards the town for a moment and then adds, "You know, we dealt often with the Lucht tribes in the Vast as I was growing up. I'm interest in seeing how this group of Lucht match up!"
The Tarienite turns to look towards the Celestial, tilting his head a fraction of an inch, "Focused, yet splintered? Did this Vicrah elope with a handsy Sil?"
Paenitia bobs her head, acknowledging the words of their small charge. She pats at Ramirez's leg, then flank, and gazing up at him. He looks down at his little mistress, 'Ruaaaa.'
He doesn't sound fully recovered, yet.
"Is he the pieces of glass too? Perhap he assembled into a kalaidescope?" The Red Knight suggests.
She stares at Bannon, tilting her head. She wears a mask that has a stylized grin and a man's face. Completely deadpan she says, "Yes. They might be much different than expected."
Being gnomes.
Venom leans against the resplendent Ramirez for another couple of moments, hand now under the veil for a few beats, then... she straightens, slow breaths ruffling her shroud. She glances to the new Tarienite, considering his words, then nods and turns toward Seyardu, hands forming a series of complex gestures.
"Perhaps they gathered up the shrapnel along the way. Maybe they thought it would mark a special night for them." <handspeech>
"It is good for us for certain, not having our presence directly announced." Seyardu agrees, seeming satisfied everyone was alright, and turning her attention to the small celestial that was accompanying them. The explanation makes her frown somewhat.
"If they are fragmented, they may be distributed among many people. This would not be good. Or it may have been broken as Venom says, and gathered up."
Then she sighs. "If they are in the hands of any here, they may need to be knocked out before they can be removed with aid of spells to ward evil."
Randolf scowls dourly, glancing hither and yon as his fingers twitch towards the wand on his belt. "Or someone found the one piece an' broke it up intae many," he grumbles. "Let's put a wiggle on, mates. Time is crucial here, we've got tae work fast. We don't want Vicrah havin' -any- time tae have its way wi' our people."
Bannon frowns as he listens to the theories being shared, "With the nature of this being we're hunting..." He seems serious now as he continues, "Would divine detection spells be useful? Axiomatic detection spells, and their like?" He looks around, curiosity on his face.
Nariel is silent at the suggestions. And their small, gloved hand curls into a fist. "Were they made of glass, I'd have shattered them millenia ago..." the chiming notes. There's a neutral sound, like that of a sigh, and they look to Bannon. Solid gold eyes peering out from behind the gold chain veil.
"Axiomatic and Lawful inquires will yield nothing more than the void. Though Vicrah is against the sanctity of the Light."
They walk the path into civilization.
Happy Valley is, to put it simply, busy. This gnomish town is a-bustle with activity. Many are dressed in various and outrageous outfits. Some dressed up as knights and roguish adventurers, others as nobles, others as poor depictions of various monsters. Some gnomish kids are running about, a pack chasing the one who was in a costume that made them very bulky and looking vaguely like a bronze scaled makari as they cackle with glee with sticks in hand.
There is a passing comment from a over dressed gnomish woman fanning her face with a collapsible fan to the group. "Oh my, look at the what we have here, we might be beat!" Chatter of agreement from the crowd filters through as the throng of people slowly and loosely make their way near the center of town towards a large, three story building. Even accounting for the town's average height of small, it's still large enough for even the tallest giantborn to enter in with only minimal ducking.
A line goes out the door.
It's getting late outside.
Large signs are plastered all over the building in various languages, reading:
- LARGEST Production yet! Come see the fantastical tale of Alfiz, slogging through the challenges of the Rune Wars!
- Action! Drama! Romance~!
- Starring Wretor Thistlelob!
- At dusk!
- Come see 'Wish Upon a Star'!
"Aha! I feel at home again." The Red Knight lies. She is almost completely obscured by her armour, although there are signs. She has long curls of dark hair, which matches the fetlock-like hair on her calves which peeks out past her greaves and sabatons. The bottoms of her feet are bare, dark skinned, but who looks at those?
Only foot fetishists, presumably.
So, she could be a gnome, or a rather brown-hued goblin. "Every day we see the plays. We grow up, wishing to be on stage. Now, there is the chance."
Loudly she calls out, "I return my friends!" It's her first visit.
Venom takes up something of a point position as the group heads around the corner as it were, looking about with... who knows what kind of reaction to the festivities.
Taking their theater night seriously is one way to put it.
While she is trying to spy a glimmer of the odd fragment, she imagines it will take the more esoteric arts to discern the locations of most of them, but keeps a lookout in any case.
A lookout that is briefly redirected toward Paenitia's declarations.
Bannon blinks as they approach, confusion settling in on his face. He then looks towards Paenitia, nodding his head in final agreement though many many minutes later with an abashed grin tugging on the corners of his lips, "You're right. The Lucht here are different." Undeterred, the man clears his throat and calls out after the knight, "I've returned as well, my sawed-off brethren! The wanderlust has faded and I'm back to get a real job, preferably banking with fair working hours and generous paid time off for vacations and holidays, but I'll probably settle for retail as long as people are nice to me!"
"Ha! Retail in the holiday season in the winter is the worst." Paenitia observes.
Randolf glances around, squaring his shoulders. Gnomes are good folk--some say they share a distant kinship with the dwarven people, somewhere in the ancient past. And it's certainly nice to be in a place where he's not having to look -up- to address people. If anything he's actually a good bit taller than most of the folk here. He lumbers along with the others, hands clasped primly behind his back.
As the party entered town, Nariel vanished into constellations.
But once the party nears the center of town, he reaches down to his bandolier. He pulls one of the tubes off and pops the cap with his thumb. He shakes the scroll out and unfurls it with a snap of his wrist. "Ha-hem." He holds the magicked parchment up, studying the text intently for a moment. "Re ex re datu nos allide!" The ink flares bright gold before crumbling into sparkling dust that lifts off the parchment and drifts away. At the same time, golden sparks flare in his eyes briefly, before vanishing from sight. Immediately his gaze snaps to the Theater. "There! It's--" He cuts off, his eyes snapping to the left. "There it--" Blink. Whip-pan to the right. "Oh, piss up my arse, we were right. There -are- more than one!"
"They seem to be in good spirits." Seyardu notes as she squints to take in the area. Her gaze lingers upon the young ones chasing around what appeared to be one in the costume of a makari. "I hope there is not some trouble with my presence here."
The statements of Paenitia make her tilt her head, growing confused, and only further by the doubling down of things.
"This one was certain Lucht and Gnomes were unrelated." She muses, shaking her head. Then Randolf speaks up about what he saw, and Seyardu blinks.
"Were they handed out for some reason?" She asks, more to herself than anything. "Or are they being stored, Randolf? If on the people here, we need to make sure none are left carrying them, for their own safety."
Bannon smiles wildly, glancing towards Paenitia before he lifts and drops his shoulders, "Can't complain. Retail during the holidays is beer money, and it beats less savory enterprises like adventuring, acting, or..." He then gives a shutter, feigning reluctance to even continue the thought lest he faints away immediately, "...working for the church!" He then looks towards Randolf, then the theater, then back to Randolf, "Piss up the... what?" He pauses for a moment and then asks, "If that's what they do when you're right where you come from, what do they do when you're wrong?!"
He lets the question hang in the air as he looks back towards the theater with a resigned smile, "Well, it could be worse." He then looks to the others gathered, "It could be lions."
The line moves at a steady pace, more people filing into the Theatre. The kids earlier run back past the group, the 'makari' of them chasing them while going 'raaaaaawr'. They are covered in glitter.
Venom shrugs, turning back to regard the party's banter, head cocking a little to the side. She doesn't make a peep, though, so, that's something.
Her poncho rises and falls with her shrug and she turns back to the festive tableau they need to investigate.
Her hands come together for more musings as she looks to Seyardu, "Gifts, then?" <handspeech>
"You will see how close." Paenitia answers Seyardu, leaning forward to move Ramirez around the group. "So, shall we get the back of the line? Ramirez, do you want to go to a show?"
'Ruaaah?' Perhaps. He enjoys the warm thrill of confusion, the pale lime-light glow.
"Bannon my friend, there are the questions you do not ask. There sure are the answers I do not want to know." What happens when the Dwarf is wrong, indeed.
For the moment, the Dark Lucht enjoys being able to look down on everyone from the top of her high hippogryph.
Randolf narrows his eyes, focused like a diving hawk on the theatre. His beard twitches and bristles as he mutters under his breath, lifting his fingers one after the other as his eyes flick back and forth. "Three, four, five..." His shaggy red brows furrow at Seyardu's question, and he holds up a hand briefly, before going back. "Thirteen, fourteen..." Bannon's interjection earns a -look- from the burly dwarf. "Och, fer fuck-sakes-, man, dinnae be -thick-! This is nae the time fer--" He looks back to the theatre, blinking owlishly. "Wait. Eigh--eighteen? Was that eighteen? Gah, I lost count!" He balls up his fists, his face turning red as his beard as he snorts and snarls deep breaths through flaring nostrils. Looking back to Seyardu, he shakes his head with a grunt. "They're millin' all about. They're nae stayin' still fer long. An' theres -lots- of 'em." He looks down at his bandolier. "Damn it. I only have four scrolls."
Bannon quirks a brow, "Aren't there?" He looks down to his Lucht friend, "Is that what they call dis... Dis...?" He purses his lips, wracking his brain for the vocabulary required to express the concept, "Discretion?" He then shakes his head, "Is that it?"
Smiling, he looks back up to the theater with a strange glint in his eye, "One day, I hope to try acting with discretion. Until then, I'm going to keep doing what works."
Looking towards Randolf, Bannon grins, "It's alright. You can tell me. I used to be an Airman before I worked for the church. You aren't going to tell me anything I haven't heard three to five days after leaving port, or when the fresh water stores go off, or..." He trails off, looking back at the theater, "Sounds like we need a mass con to seperate these people from what belongs to us."
"If they are moving, and people have them on them, then that is a concern."
She looks to Paenitia, and nods, though at the question, she sighs. "Perhaps, but we should move more quickly, if the shards are moving. Direct contact may be dangerous."
Seyardu looks to Bannon, and tilts her head. "This one likes their work for the Althean temple." She says, before looking back around. "If they are going to the theater, perhaps we can stop them on entering or exiting. Perhaps a magic circle made at the entrance? If we can convince them to let us do that."
After a few minutes of the spell going on, Randolf can tell there is a pattern to the tugging. It's at the doors, then veers of to a side. Doors again, off to the other side. Rinse and repeat.
GAME: Venom rolls perception: (14)+10: 24
"I am not sure the con that get people to part with the free skymetal." Paenitia says thoughtfully, "the coin might work."
"So, we go end of the line or up near the front and say we are part of the show?"
Venom draws forth a small notepad and pen from under her poncho somewhere and starts to scribe a quick note, which she passes up toward the mounted Knight:
Perhaps we could offer to buy them?
The shrouded one's surveys continue as the group makes to enter the theater, and she reaches out to tap Seyardu, and her hands start to go through their intricate motions again, "We've been noticed, but no one seems hostile, and it looks like they're passing out literature." <handspeech>
Randolf's gaze flicks back and forth. To the door, then back to the side of the theatre, then back again. "Wait. There's a -pattern-." He headtilts. "The ushers, maybe? Part o' the theatre crew? We have tae get in there. I got a -bad- feelin' 'bout all this."
Bannon looks towards Paenitia and then shrugs, "It's simply really. Figure out what they want more and make them think they'll get that in exchange for the skymetal." He then looks at Randolf and then nods his head, "I can get us in. Right through the front door."
"They may not be rational, but I can hope they will listen to reason, yes." Seyardu replies to Paenitia. Then Venom taps her arm, and she looks over. "They may not be for now. This literature? We should see what is being handed out."
Then Randolf speaks up, and the silver sith-makar almost looks like they are frowning. "Do you see any out of the theatre? If you do not, then getting inside is our first priority. If it is the staff, they may have something planned for those coming to the show today. So it should be interrupted before those plans are brought into action."
"Yes. We might be able to buy." Paenitia reads Venom's note, nodding her grinning mask at the veiled woman and folding up the paper. "I am short the funds. I have put the great downpay for the better armour."
She looks at the doors, "The ushers. Hmmm. They are much like butlers. In they mystery plays, the butlers often do it." She slaps her knee, metal ringing on metal, "you have solve it!"
"You count how many? Do we have the amount of Protection from Evil for the number."
'Ruaaaah'. Ramirez says yes. Ramirez can't count... that high.
There are some comments thrown everyone's way about the group.
"Oh wow! How did they make those scales? Did they steal them from the silver mines? They're so shiny!"
"Is that a REAL knight? Aw hells, my costume sucks."
"MOM, MOM, I wanna look like him!" a kid points out to Bannon, and pretends to fence with a rapier-stick before falling face first into the ground.
"I didn't realize wizards had so many scrolls. I'll need to note this for next Tariday..."
"What's that?" "I... don't know?" "Are they supposed to be a ghost?" "Ghosts dress in white, not black, you goober. Besides, who wants to be a ghost?"
Faint sounds of people gallantly talking could be heard, muffled through the walls of the Theatre. Seems as if the show already is ongoing.
Venom is the Ghost with the Most, babe.
There. There it is. Paenitia hears it. The heart and soul of a knight answering the call to adventure. It is time to pass the torch, or at least, light another flame against the darkness. Her head turns, her grinning mask's face towards the speaker she overheard. With a nudge, Ramirez moves forward.
Paenitia bows low in the saddle, making a sweeping gesture which seems like a salute where she removes her mask. Except, she has two now! One on her face and one in hand. "Hola!" She says cheerfully, all grins. "I am the real knight. Your costume, it is marvelous, and I have the Smiling Man mask for you, to be the Knight of the Pillar as I am."
"Be brave, and strong, and true, and always protect the common folk." The little Lucht advises, "I visit you anon, if you still wish to be the knight, I give you the armour to go with the mask. Ole!"
Venom nods, taking in the commentary she can perceive as she moves. With her last foray into showbiz alongside Seyardu and Paenitia still in mind, she isn't sure she wants to propose -that- sort of trade.
She watches Paenitia move off to dub a new squire for a moment.
Headtilt.
A small figure in paper mache armor takes the mask with wide, gleaming eyes. Their hair a wild violet and a youth to match is gnomish height. "T... T-Thank you! I-I.. I'll definitely talk to you after the play! I've always dreamed of being a knight!" he sqwuees while in line.
'Ruaaaaah!' Ramirez announces. A new knight is born.
"Okay! I will see you later. Enjoy the play and be careful." Paenitia isn't sure exactly how to warn that the fighting might be extra realistic, so she doesn't.
Knight and Steed rejoin the group.
"These scales are real, not fake. But they are this color naturally." Seyardu chuckles after stopping to see if she could find one of the pamphlets or books being passed out. She lingers away a moment as Paenitia hands off her mask, before rejoining the group. "I did not know your face truly looked like that, Paenitia. Then why the mask on top of it?" She asks, smiling just slightly despite the concerns. Then she settles, and the smile disappears. "We should cut off those entering. Convince the people at the door to let us in earlier."
"It save wear and tear on the real face." Paenitia says, completely deadpan.
Randolf tugs at his beard, his brow furrowed in a scowl of deep thought. He looks over the theatre, noting entrances, exits, windows. "I could always go invisible an' try tae sneak in," he mutters. "But... that dinnae help the rest o' ye." Of course, he does not point out the obvious--that being a big, heavy dwarf, an invisibility spell won't do much to make him in-audible- as well.
There. There it is. Bannon hears it. The liver and soul of a future swashbuckler rising to answer the last call at some dockside, swillpushing watering hole. It is time to pass the torch, or at least, light another light another flame against the the thought of having to fight with the entirety of one's liver function intact. He turns gallantly, lifting his left hand to settle it on the hilt of his rapier as he smiles broadly.
His eyes widen as his young admirer loses their footing, but his expression returns only a moment later, "Keep your feet under you, your stance rooted, and always remember that as swift as my feet may be, as sharp as my blade ever is, my mind and my tongue remains my most dangerous weapon. "
He glances towards Paenitia for a moment, grinning, before he looks back towards the theater.
The fallen kid gets back on their feet, nodding sharply. "Okay!" she chirps, doing her best to follow the directions as they take a swipe at the fleeing glitter makari. They fall on their face again, but their spirit isn't tampered.
"Ramirez! I dismount." Paenitia declares. Her peacock-andalusian extends a wing and she slides along it to the ground. She takes her little buckler, and silvered sword. A knight must always be armed but these hopefully won't be frightening options, nor difficult to move through a crowd.
"I do not think the invisibility will help, my friend." The Dark Lucht says, "it fool the eyes only, not the nose."
She attempts to get one of those pamphlets to see what everything is about as she heads inside. "Ramirez, be pretty."
Ramirez will be pretty. Yes.
Bannon looks around to those of his party, "Or I can talk us through the door." He shrugs, "It's not anything I haven't done before for beer and a bar snack."
It's nice to see different approaches to recruitment and encouragement.
A little late, in a particular case, perhaps, but nice.
Venom's attention turns back to the party as they discuss the challenge of the ushers and, for curiosity's sake, she points at the swashbuckler, then gives a thumbs-up.
The shrouded figure then eases back near Seyardu, as it may come to a point when quick communication will become important.
And there's a special place in hell for certain types of villains, like those who talk at the theater.
GAME: Randolf rolls Diplomacy: (16)+0: 16 (Aid Another) GAME: Seyardu rolls diplomacy: (13)+14: 27 (Aid Another) GAME: Paenitia rolls diplomacy: (6)+8: 14 (Aid Another) GAME: Bannon rolls Diplomacy: (9)+14: 23 <OOC> Aryia says, "Diplo total: 29" GAME: Venom rolls perception: (14)+10: 24
Bannon nods resolutely, turning towards the door and taking a deep breath, as if about to undertake a pursuit of an athletic bent. He reaches, yanking up on his belt, and then out on his shirt just a little. He finally reaches into a pouch on his belt, removing a white mask. He reaches up, removing his feathered hat, and then slides the band over his head. He returns his hat to his head and then lifts his face, revealing the half-mask that covers the left side of his face, artfully designed to show half of a monochrome face in the throes of ecstatic laughter. With a crack of his knuckles, he strides purposefully and boldly to the door of the theater.
As he comes face to face with the usher, he states, "Greetings. We are from the Church of Tarien in Alexandria, here to pay our respects and offer the blessings of the Laughing One to the thespians in attendance this evening."
"I have the many masks." Paenitia tells Seyardu, "they will not fit your face. You have the many teeth."
So many.
Ramirez takes up a position beside the entrance, like a marble lion, although he is feathery hippogryph. A matching gryphon would be grand, and after... they could fight. For the moment he stands sole sentinel and watches people moving through the line.
He is smart, for a bird. He does not know what the party seeks, but flashy bits of metal might draw his attention.
Paenitia meanwhile takes up a position behind Bannon. She too might offer respects and blessings of the Laughing one.
It's an interesting return to show-business, being the audience rather than the performer this time.
The shrouded figure moves with a closed, regimented grace that almost comes off as demure as the group gets sweet talked through the door by their current frontman. As ever, she lets the others do the talking, while she scans both locals and locale for any clues about their quarry.
Behind her veils, Venom's peeled peepers probably perk as she catches a little detail from an errant glimmer.
Probably.
From the outside, most readily discernible is the fact that her posture straightens, and she turns with a quick knuckle bump against Seyardu's arm, ere her hands start to flex, twist and splay through her communicative gestures with some haste, "He's" a point toward their Dwarven compaion, "been sensing the literature! They used the metal to print the literature! We should look for their storage, and press machines." <handspeech>
Randolf is all but hopping from foot to foot, racking his brain to try and figure out what exactly to -do-. Being surrounded by colorful and flamboyant theatrics is doing nothing to enhance the burly dwarf's calm. He looks up as Bannon goes to address the ticket-taker at the front of the line. His shaggy red brows arch like astonished caterpillars, and his eyes nearly roll out of his head. "Beards o' me sweet tapdancin' fathers, is this real life?" he mutters incredulously. He hangs his head, slapping his hand to his forehead and slowly dragging it down his face. "A'right, well, brilliant. I always -wanted- tae be a thespian." He goes to take his place by the others, doing his very best to strike a heroic pose. Were the thought of Vicrah not making him fret to pieces, he could probably pull it off.
"Is this the real life?" Paenitia repeats Randolf's question, then expands upon it, "or is it just fantasy? We are up caught in the gnome-slide and their escape from reality."
The Red Knight holds her hand out for pamphlet.
The greeters start to hold Bannon up as he strides forward, but his declaration makes smiles go all around. "Of course of course! We hope this production exceeds his expectations!" a tinny voice from one says, handing a pamphlet to them. And to the rest of the party. Them humming along to the Lucht Knight's little tune. "Open your eyes, look up to the stars and seeeee...."
Randolf's spell snaps to the pamphlet in everyone's hand. It's simple in make, detailing the events of this play. It's trimmed in a metallic leafing, crimson in color.
Everyone is ushered through Yes. Even Ramirez is let in, if the knight so wishes.
"And while the tarienite is here for the show, this one is here to ensure that it does not turn into any pranks." Seyardu adds, standing a bit taller behind them as they attempted to make their entrance. "At least none that are too disruptive, as it is impossible to plan for all of them."
Then she steps back, and looks to Venom as she flashes a response. "We should stop others from entering after this."
"Absolutely," is Bannon's emphatic reply, "I understand that the production is in progress. We will offer our blessing to the gathered crew and actors during the next scene change." He turns away, looking pointedly towards Venom. In crisp handspeech, Bannon signs to her: We distract. You look.
He then looks towards Pae, "Are you ready for your introduction and to give the blessing to the production?" He looks towards Pae with a suggestive eyebrow.
He catches the singing, gives a blink, then looks towards greeter as they add to the song. Considering it, Bannon then smiles and adds, "I'm just too sober. I need a beer, you see. Because golds easy come, gotta' go. Bills are high. Income low."
"We should be careful entering the theater, now." Seyardu notes, walking along with the group, and looking at the pamphlet in question. "If there are fiends inside, this one may be able to tell."
The silver scale stops, and sniffs at the air for a moment, hoping she could pick up something. Hopefully the air flow was in their favor, as the way the wind was blowing mattered to her.
Randolf takes the pamphlet as it's given to him, his gaze flicking over to Pae as she quips that bit of doggerel. He harrumphs softly, looking back down at the paper in his hand. He runs his thumb along the metal foil printed on the page, while his other hand rises to lightly brush a fingertip over his medallion. Blessed by Nariel's power, is there any reaction?
Venom cocks her head a smidge as the Swashbuckler shows that he does, in fact, know the sign.
By her hip, her hand flicks a quick, "Acknowledged." in response before accepting her pamphlet with a quiet little bow to the greeter and looks the printing over to see if there's any underlying messages in the print, somewhere.
The distraction should be soon enough, she figures, but a a quick scan may provide more illumination on what kind of matter they're poking at. <handspeech>
Ramirez goes to a show.
"I am ready to make the introduction and blessings." Paenitia confirms.
<OOC> Venom says, "can i check linguistics against this to see if there's any sekrit messages?" GAME: Venom rolls linguistics: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Venom says, "would you be against me using the 3 rpp spend to reroll that?" GAME: Venom rolls linguistics: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Seyardu rolls linguistics: (2)+5: 7 (Aid Another)
The amulet silently thrums as Randolf inspects the page. Everyone could feel the amulet was thumming, actually. And the pages are on the up and up. Pretty solid, nothing secret here. Sure is a lot of words. It is in Tradespeak and Gnomish. It's hard to discern at first, but whoever wrote this was really insistent on people dressing up in what they dream to be.
"There may be the great problem here." Paenitia muses, looking over the page.
Stepping into the Theatre yields a nearly packed house. Almost like the whole town was in here. Seating is small, so the back rows are left open for the few tallfolk that were here. And the aisles are wiiiide. The stage wraps around the audience and through the aisles. Everyone is dressed in a costume of some sort, and the play is underway.
It seems like this is the end of the first act, as a dashing gnomish man is held aloft by a mechanical rigging and a lot of cloth to give the silhouette of a monstrous figure towering over them.
ACT I SCENE 6
Alfiz is aloft by the giant hand of Lanier, Fallen Phenoix of the Seventh Sun.
Alfix: (Shouting) "No! You can't crush everyone's hopes and dreams!"
Lanier: (Deeply laughing) "And what power do you have to stop me? I've already extinguished your puny little light!"
Alfix claws at the hand helplessly, yet determined to break free.
Alfix: (Ragged) "I won't... I won't let you. You can't- Or I'll... I'll..."
Lanier pulls Alfix in, lights dim. Prestigidiate sparkles. Activate Rumbleator 2500 V.3.
Lanier: (Stage whispering) "Or you'll what...?"
Alfix: (Resolute) "I'll use. This."
Alfix pulls out a wand and smacks Lanier with it. Rumbleator 2500 V.3 to 11 for maximum effect.
Lanier: (Screaming in terror) "NO! YOU CAN'T! THAT WILL-!"
The actor, after their their statement, pulls free a crimson colored wand, it reflecting the dim lights in the room with a metallic luster.
Lanier, the contraption with a moving mouth to speak reels back and drops Alfix, the dashing protagonist. "NO YOU CAN'T! THAT WILL-!" the deep voice echoes throughout the room. The audience gasps. A couple people faint.
Alfix smacks Lanier with the wand.
The lights go out.
There's a deathly silence.
"Heeeeeeeey, this isn't part of the script," the director complains in the dark.
A low, chilling laugh reverberates through the room.
The lights return in a dark crimson hue. And there's a collective collapse as the audience falls asleep. The main actor is death gripping the wand, eyes wide as shadow spills out from it in a helix. Less of a shadow, and more of the absence of light.
"And to think I'd be given such a chance," the chuckling laughter croons. The darkness builds from the stage upwards. Feet clad in gold and black armored boots. A halfplate and tunic in the same color. Dark wings coalesce into form. And a large, two handed weapon rests atop a shoulder, a cross between the halbred and a sycthe. Lines of crimson energy run across ther visage, and a dark blue halo rests over their head. "So many dreams... so delicious..."
They raise a hand, energy gathering as the cloth on the contraption falls to expose a massive chunk of a dull, color draining rock of deep crimson behind them. The energy of red starts coalesce before it suddenly fizzles out. They blink. And down their pale gaze settles on the party.
They groan, running a hand across their face. "Nariel, Nariel. You stupid little..."
A grey hand settles on their weapon, a blue fire slowly trickling across it. "... and here I was going to have such a feast..."
ACT II SCENE I
Enter Vircah, the Nightmare from Beyond, Stage Center.
Enter Heroes, Stage Front.
Cue music.
Randolf studies the pages, turning them upside down, holding them at arm's length, then leaning in to squint closely. As the play begins, he looks up, watching along. But... that wand. His eyes snap to that wand. And as the actor undergoes that dread metamorphosis, his eyes get wide. "Reos defend us," he whispers quietly. But... he came here to do a job. And a job is what he'll do. He straightens himself to his full height, pulling both wand and axe from his belt. He turns his body into profile, pointing his wand at Vicrah. "Only thing -yer- eatin' is my boot up yer arse! Ye want me? Eh? BRING IT!!"
This is it, the night of Knights, and that's her cue.
"I am Sister Paenitia Snapdragon del Haranna! Knight of the Pillar and Paladina of Tarien!" The Red Knight shouts with wild enthusiasm, mounting up on Ramirez.
Well... attempting to.
"No, Ramirez. This way, no. come to the chair. No your tail will not be caught." She points at 'Vircah', "wait the minute. Ramirez... here..."
Finally she is astride her flightly steed. Once more with passion, she draws her lance, points it at the dark, winged woman, "Ignore me at your peril."
<OOC> Aryia says, "Vicrah will beckon cockily at the party and cast a spell." <OOC> Aryia says, "He is on stage. A move action will get you on stage and engaged with him." <OOC> Aryia says, "There is enough space on the stage to move about." GAME: Aryia rolls 1d4+2: (1)+2: 3 <OOC> Bannon says, "Right on. I'm going to pronounce the judgement of smiting on Vicrah." <OOC> Bannon says, "I'm going to take the move action, and take a swing." GAME: Bannon spends ONE use of JUDGMENT. GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12: (17)+12: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12: (8)+12: 20 (Not Confirmed) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d4: (1): 1 <OOC> Aryia says, "you hit him!" GAME: Bannon rolls 1d6+5+5: (4)+5+5: 14
Vicrah ambles back and forth on the stage, monologging. "And I thought this would be so simple. I thought I killed that blasted piece of star dust."
They bring their two handed hybrid weapon in front of them, and the absence of light sheds from them as three copies of the antagonist appear. "Have at you, Nariel. We'll do this dance for eternity like always. Lets test what vapid mortals you chose this time..."
As Vicrah coelesces, Bannon's eyebrow archs as the visible edge of his lip tilts up. Almost lazily, he says, "Well, hello gorgeous." He reaches down casually, gripping the hilt of his sword and drawing it in a smooth motion. With two swipes that help loosen the shoulder, Bannon holds his rapier in a high guard, "Today is your last, demon. I am Inquisitor Bannon Vayne, Tarien's Ruffian, and your laughing death. I pronounce judgment upon you in the name of Alamarn the Bard King. The joke is over. You're finished."
Bannon's rapier flashes with a blaze of light as the judgment is cast, and the blessing settles in. He leaps forward, covering the distance between himself and Vicrah. With precise strides, Bannon's feet touch the wood of the stage, then stop, skidding the remainder of the distance as his arm and leading knee extend to a perfectly angled lunge that buries the shining rapier in the beast's side.
The Inquisitor, never still, is already making his riposte and turning around to line up his next attack.
<OOC> Seyardu says, "Alright, using my action to cast blessing of fervor on everyone" <OOC> Seyardu says, "Then moving to melee to threaten AOO and flanking with my fists" GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (9)+13: 22 (Vicrah AOO) <OOC> Seyardu says, "Sey will have +2 for this from BOF" GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (4)+5+(3): 12 (3 Fire)
"I do not like this, we should clear the building when we can." Seyardu sighs as they walk into the room, catching the tail end of the act of the play. She blinks, and squints when the lights are out, only to find the play replaced by some manner of figure on the stage.
"We must deal with them now, before they can cause further harm.
The cleric pulls out her holy symbol, and raises it while offering a brief prayer, filling those she came with with strength, before she charges at the figure. While she had no weapons, those claws were fairly sharp, and at least they could keep their attention, hopefully.
<OOC> Venom says, "sure, why not. move action to draw the thunderbelcher, another move to close the distance and point blank shot." GAME: Venom rolls weapon4+1+2: (17)+0+1+2: 20 (+2 BoF) (vs Touch) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d4: (3): 3 - an image shatters into dying stars
Judging from her colleagues and acquaintances, Tarien seems to be the God of Talking a Great Deal.
It's useful, to be sure, but, sometimes the mission demands one just gets to work.
Feeling the mystical blessing from Seyardu infuse her body, and intrinsically understanding it's boons, the veiled woman moves in to share the Good News.
The octagonal spiral of etched steel that comprises her Thunderbelcher's barrel is swung out from under her poncho as she rushes in to support her fellows against the Falling Star of the show.
Angling upward so her shot doesn't hit a bystander if the morbid shell happens to over-penetrate, Venom half-twirls up alongside one of the figures, all but pressing the mouth of the weapon against her target before her finger squeezes(never yank!) the trigger.
BZZZZZZTHOOOOM!
With a buzzing report, somewhat gentler on the ear than a shot from a crude chemically propelled shell, she dissipates one of the diva's copies. A flex of break action, a flash of movement and rustle of oilcloth, and a new cylinder of steel is locked into the arming chamber of the 'belcher, eager for another shot, perhaps.
GAME: Randolf casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15 GAME: Randolf rolls 2d4+2: (6)+2: 8 <OOC> Randolf says, "I'll move up to join melee."
Randolf's beard bristles as his comrades engage Vicrah. He stalks forward, eyes blazing with dwarven fury. He lifts his wand and whips it in a brisk pattern, lifting his voice up into a reverberating boom. "RE EX RE UR EKISOS!" He pauses, snapping his wand forward. "HAH!" A pair of blue orbs burst from the silvered tip, flying at Vicrah with a 'SKREEEEAH!' Both impact the being, strobing brightly as their power is expended. "You picked the WRONG WORLD TAE INVADE, YE SHEEP-FUCKER!" he roars. "HRAAAAGH! THE DWARVES ARE ON YE!" Hefting his axe high, he charges forward to join the fray!
<OOC> Paenitia says, "Pae and Rami take the bof:+2 att, +2 AC. Charge if I can, stop at Vicrah" <OOC> Paenitia says, "Charging; Pae has +2 AC Bof, Rami has -2 AC charge +2 BOF, cancels" GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon3+8: (14)+9+8: 31 (Pae: +4 Charge, +2 Bof +2 Cav Pillar, Rami: +2 Charge +1 Bof, +1 Pae's Banner) <OOC> Paenitia says, "Spirited charge, damage x3, +6 dam cav levels" GAME: Paenitia rolls damage3+6: aliased to 1d6+2+6: (4)+2+6: 12 GAME: Paenitia rolls damage3+6: aliased to 1d6+2+6: (1)+2+6: 9 GAME: Paenitia rolls damage3+6: aliased to 1d6+2+6: (4)+2+6: 12 GAME: Aryia rolls 1d3: (3): 3 (sad as the charge decimates an image) GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2+2+1: (11)+7+2+2+1: 23 (Ramirez Bite) GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Aryia rolls 1d2: (1): 1 (rami hits Vicrah themsleves)
"Okay, no, this way. Okay, now, Huzzah!" Paenitia orients her peacock-andalusian and charges the stage. Fortunately, the aisles are wide, he can gallop down them. The stage is low, he leaps, glides, lands with the scratch of talons.
The point of Paenitia's lance is deadly accurate, straight at the heart of Vicrah.
The image shatters. She was fooled.
'Ruaaaah!' Ramirez snaps at another, his beak ringing off the strange, mildly metallic creature. He has found the enemy, he draws blood.
One image remains.
"Okay, we play the guess game then! I will find you and pin you to the floor." The Red Knight laughs.
GAME: Seyardu rolls will+2: (19)+10+2: 31 (+2 Pae's Banner bonus against fear) GAME: Bannon spends ONE use of CHARMED LIFE. GAME: Bannon rolls Will+Charisma: (16)+5+3+2: 26 (+2 Pae's Banner bonus against fear) GAME: Venom rolls will+2+2: (14)+4+2+2: 22 (+2 Pae's Banner bonus against fear) GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+3+2: (12)+3+2: 17 (Rami Will save, +2 Pae's banner) GAME: Paenitia rolls will+2+1: (2)+5+2+1: 10 (+2 vs Fear, +1 Lucky Lucht) GAME: Randolf rolls Will: (1)+5+2: 8 (EPIC FAIL) (+2 Pae's Banner bonus against fear) <OOC> Aryia says, "Randolf and Paenitia are Shaken" GAME: Bannon spends ONE point of PANACHE. GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (11)+13: 24 (vs Bannon) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12: (18)+12: 30 (OP&R - Parry) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12+2: (20)+12+2: 34 (OP&R - Parry) (THREAT) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12+2: (3)+12+2: 17 (Not Confirmed) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d2: (1): 1 GAME: Bannon rolls 1d6+5+4+5: (6)+5+4+5: 20 GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (13)+13: 26 GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (17)+13: 30 (THREAT) (vs Venom) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (3)+13: 16 (Not Confirmed) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (12)+13: 25 (vs Randolf) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (12)+13: 25 (vs Paenitia) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (2)+13: 15 (vs Ramirez) GAME: Paenitia rolls ride+4: (3)+8+4: 15 (+4 to counter ACP) GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (9)+5+(4): 18 GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (7)+5+(5): 17 GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (7)+5+(4): 16 GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (6)+5+(6): 17
Vicrah grins as the party charges into the fray, them buckling down with their hybrid weapon as people fill around them. Images shatter as wounds are opened on them. Stardust stars to trickle out of their side, only to slow some as the blows do not have as heavy of an affect on them.
They rise to their feet, and raise their weapon up high. "Fools."
Their frame swells, consuming all red light in the room. All is gone. Even the pale yellow on everyone's neck. There's a blink. And a burst of blue fire as the two handed weapon spins in nasty circle, cleaving every living being within their reach.
They laugh manically, the halo above their head growing brighter with one light shining. "HAAAHAHAHA! You're too late. TOO LATE! I am EVERYWHERE. And I WILL. FEAST!"
GAME: Bannon rolls Knowledge/Religion+2: (1)+6+2: 9 (EPIC FAIL) (+2 Inq know) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12-2: (18)+12+-2: 28 (THREAT) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12-2: (16)+12+-2: 26 (Confirmed) GAME: Aryia rolls 1d2: (2): 2 - Image GAME: Bannon rolls 1d20+12-2: (12)+12+-2+2: 22 (+2 Flanking) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d6+5+4+5*2-5: (4)+5+4+5*2+-5: 8 (Incorrect method) GAME: Bannon rolls 1d6+5+4+5: (4)+5+4+5: 18 GAME: Bannon rolls Intimidate+1: (20)+13+1: 34 (Menacing Swordpay - Intimidate Check) <OOC> Bannon says, "I also get a +2 next round for Surge of Success."
There is only one image left. Everywhere is there, and there.
Having brought his shining rapier back to a guarded position as he prepared for his next strike, Bannon is in a wonderful position to spot the attack that Vicrah begins to wind up. Taking an almost preternaturally smooth step, he angles his sword to smoothly deflect the attack away from himself. As Vicrah moves by him, Bannon lithely steps forward and sinks his rapier into the side of the Diva with a quick poke. Very suddenly, the Inquisitor begins to accelerate faster than humanly possible, a terrifying cackle emitting from deep within him as his rapier leaves an afterimage of searing light as it sinks into the mirror image of Vicrah. Moving forward with the momentum, the Inquisitor burries a shoulder into the image, which shatters into a million pieces.
As he turns, one then gets the effect of the mask the Tarienite wears. On the left, ecstatic joy. On the right, terrible rage.
He angles his body with a step to bring his sword around, settling it almost gently against exposed skin of the diva. With a vicious cackle, the Inquisitor yanks hard, trailing the starstuff which makes up the innards of this demon following behind.
Vicrah smirks as they're pincushioned by the inquisitor. "Cute. You almost had me there. I'll devour you last~"
GAME: Seyardu rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL)
Vicrah has taken a decent beating. Stardust leaks out everywhere, glittering in the limelight, but the otherworldy being stands cocky and confident.
There is a big block of metal suspended in the contraption roughly ten feet up. It is a hunk of crimson starmetal, one that looks like it has been shaved down, one that eats the color around it. One that is EATING a LOT of color. In a ten foot radius around it, there is none. Everything has become Black and White, and fourteen shades of grey.
Seyardu is colorblind, so she dont notice.
A colour devouring block of starmetal. Ten feet up. Suspended by a precarious rope. It could be dropped, a magic circle cast around it. Or, the magic circle just might reach up enough.
<OOC> Aryia says, "you will need to run over there to get under it, however" GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+13: (15)+13: 28 (AOO on Seyardu) GAME: Aryia rolls 2d6+5+1d6: (8)+5+(3): 16 GAME: Seyardu casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 <OOC> Aryia says, "Paenitia and randolf are no longer shaken" <OOC> Aryia says, "the light on the halo goes out" <OOC> Aryia says, "their regeneration stops"
Seyardu grunts as the strange weapon digs into the unarmored parts of their torso and arms, drawing more than a small amount of blood. She looks up when their halo lights up more, and she looks around, finding the object from before, that seemed to have a similar effect to the one she had seen before. She twists around to run towards it, catching another strike in her side that left a burning pain as well.
When she reaches the object, she pauses.
There were a few loose scales from one of the strikes, perfect. She takes one, and uses it to gouge a rough circle into the stage. Once she finished, the circle emits a silver glow, and for a brief moment it seems to reach upwards, before the glow fades, leaving a circle of silver lines underneath the object. She turns around, pulling out her billhook, and facing Vicrah.
As the divine protection takes hold and cuts off the chunk of crimson star stone, the crimson lights in the room vanish. Regular light remains. Vicrah's halo dims, and their menacing, fearful aura goes away like a snuffed candle.
They crash their halbred/scythe down on Seyardu as the cleric runs past. "NO YOU ABSOLUTE FOOL YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING!" they screech in a tantrum.
<OOC> Venom says, "i'm going to flurry, leading with stunning fist blow ki for extra attack use bof for bonus to hit," <OOC> Venom says, "and sneak attack on all of these" GAME: Venom spends ONE point of KI POOL. GAME: Venom spends ONE use of STUNNING FIST. GAME: Venom rolls weapon0+2+2: (13)+6+2+2: 23 GAME: Aryia rolls 1d20+10: (10)+10: 20 (vs DC15, not stunned) GAME: Venom rolls 1d6+2+1d6: (5)+2+(4): 11 GAME: Venom rolls weapon0+2+2: (8)+6+2+2: 18 GAME: Venom rolls weapon0+2+2: (6)+6+2+2: 16
The Starscythe sheers through veil and oilcloth with equal faculty, as well as the cotton and flesh beneath, drawing a choked chuff of breath from the shrouded woman who reflexively recoils from the aftermath of the stroke as the corner of the two veils drift like autumn leaves to the stage floor.
Cut, badly, down accross her body, the silent woman twists the Thunderbelcher away as she calls upon Seyardu's infusions, as well as the lessons of a pale tressed acquaintance for extra celerity as she had facing the giant lizard... thing, and launches into a counter offensive.
Her initial thrust is of a hand half closed, focusing the blow upon a narrower area, though the alien seems unphased by her efforts to disrupt their nerves. Her followup strikes, an attempt to crush her instep, and another to add a new degree of freedom to a load bearing knee are both for naught, but it looks like she's not playing, anymore.
GAME: Randolf rolls knowledge/the planes: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Randolf says, "So I'll take a five foot step out of melee and cast Scorching Ray." GAME: Randolf rolls ranged-4: (13)+3+-4+2: 12 (+2 BoF, vs Touch) GAME: Randolf rolls 4d6: (18): 18 <OOC> Aryia says, "that hits them HARD" <OOC> Aryia says, "they do NOT look good"
Randolf staggers back as the weapon lays into him, sending a spray of dwarven blood to the stage. "HGGGK!" He looks down at the gash tearing him open, from the top of his shoulder down to the middle of his torso. It missed his beard by -that- much. For a moment, Vicrah's otherworldly fear compounds the shock of the injury, turning his face white as milk as he gulps a couple shaky breaths. But he grits his teeth and shakes his head. "I... am goin'... to -annihilate- you," he snarls. Taking another step back, he makes a broad circling arc with his wand, eyes ablaze. "RE EX RE ANTU AKH ASCORIUS! HAH!" Snapping his wand out, he fires a searing beam the color of molten metal. It slams into Vicrah's center mass, charing the dream-eater. "C'MON, YE BASTARD! I'M NAE DEAD YET!" he thunders, pounding his chest with his wand-clutching fist. "C'MON, THEN, BRING IT! I'LL SEND YE TAE HELL!"
<OOC> Paenitia says, "okay, extra attack on full attack. Pae and Rami full attack. Do we get flanking?" <OOC> Paenitia says, "+2 flanking, +2 challenge Pae, +2 flank Ramirez" GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon3+2+2: (12)+9+2: 25 (vs AC23) GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon3+2-5+2: (15)+9+2+-5: 23 (vs AC23) GAME: Paenitia rolls weapon3+2: (18)+9+2: 29 (vs AC23, extra BoF attac) GAME: Paenitia rolls damage3+6: aliased to 1d6+2+6: (6)+2+6: 14 GAME: Paenitia rolls damage3+6: aliased to 1d6+2+6: (3)+2+6: 11 <OOC> Paenitia says, "Ramirez, Beak, Claw, Claw, Beak" GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2: (16)+7+2: 25 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2: (14)+7+2: 23 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2: (3)+7+2: 12 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2: (20)+7+2: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+7+2: (7)+7+2: 16 (Not Confirmed) GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d4+4: (1)+4: 5 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d6+4: (1)+4: 5 <OOC> Aryia says, "so ramereiz's attacks are negated by the dr. Except that... 1... damage" <OOC> Aryia says, "killed them" <OOC> Aryia get em ramereiz
"I say, IGNORE ME AT YOUR PERIL!" Paenitia shouts.
And stabs. And stabs. And stabs some more.
Her lance strikes Vicrah in the back, in the wing, in the back of the head. A strike that nearly pierced the spine and brain stem, deflecting just an inch at the last moment to open a gash that sprays blood across the stage. The weapon is slick and red.
Vicrah still stands.
'RUUAAAAH!' Ramirez will be heard. A snap, a slash, a claw, another peck. He sees the wounds, he tries to open them further. He is not blessed with magic items or special materials.
But he is determined. It is possible to be nibbled to death by ducks, and today, Vicrah is pecked to pieces by a peacock. Peacock-horse.
He stands proudly over his victory, feathers stained. Tail spread, rattling and shaking. 'Ruaaaaaah!' I am victorious!
As Vicrah is brought low, stabbed, and pecked to death, their weapon clatters to the ground and scatters across the ground, stardust flaring out in a plume. They try to stand, falling over themselves as their joints and limbs turn to the ashen substance in their humiliating defeat.
"N.. no... no! This... You... I know your faces... I know your dreams... I'll... I'll..!" they sputter, sand falling out of their mouth. Slowly, they fall forward, and land with a thud. Nothing more than a pile of dust on the stage.
The stage is silent.
The crowd is unconscious.
A curtain, literally, falls in the backstage.
Nariel appears in a shimmer beside Rameriez, golden eyes blinking as they scan the area.
"... well this was... certainly... much worse than I thought. But it seems as if the situation was handled," their chimy voice plays soft.
In the wake of the alien's fall, the shrouded woman turns and curls in some upon herself, as the hand not bearing her longarm lifts to draw her parted poncho closed. Her other hand, meanwhile, continues to clutch the weapon as she moves away from any potential death throes of their star crossed malefactor.
She says nothing, as ever, in the wake of the being's threats.
Her dreams aren't good places to be.
As Vicrah falls, Bannon's face is schooled back to neutrality almost immediately. The judgment of smiting he placed upon Vicrah disappearing as they die. Commensurately, his rapier has already stopped glowing by the time he's returning it to his scabbard, "My heart's a'fluttering." He grunts, looking around, "It may know our dreams, but we know its nightmares." He then looks towards Pae and points towards Remirez, "That."
Taking a step away, Bannon settles his hand on the hilt hanging off his belt, "What's next?"
GAME: Seyardu rolls 4d6: (15): 15 GAME: Aryia damaged you for -15 points. 56 HP remaining. GAME: Aryia damaged your companion for -15 points. 39 HP remaining.
Seyardu keeps her attention on the fiend, ready to intercept them if they make for the circle she prepared. But before long, they are torn apart by the combined efforts of everyone present. She allows herself to buckle slightly against the polearm as she reaches for her holy symbol, holding it aloft and radiating healing which passes by the chunk of metal held aloft over the magic circle.
Randolf pants for breath as Vicrah falls and disintegrates. The wand it carried clatters to the stage near his feet. "Hrmph. My dreams." He lifts one heavy dwarven boot and slams it down on the wand, shattering it to dust. "-My- rules. Come visit any time ye like, -bitch-." He looks up and around, gritting his teeth as he holsters his wand, before pressing a hand to his gashed shoulder. He all but melts with relief as Sey blesses him with divine healing. "Ohh that feels much better. Thank ye, Sey." He looks back over to Nariel, puffing up his burly chest a bit. "Blessed Nariel, we've won. Vicrah is defeated. The next step of our quest awaits!"
Ramirez nudges at Nariel in a very horse-like fashion, wickering then making a clacking noise with his beak.
Paenitia pats his neck firmly, "It is the great fight. You are very fierce." She takes out a cloth and wipes down her lance, cleaning it then slipping it back into the scabbard.
She is bleeding, her red armour hides it; he is bleeding, his white feathers show it. With his front, they are equally crimson.
"So, it say it come for us in the dreams. It will have to search all of Isobar to get everyone behind the mask." She taps at the Smiling Man, which hides all but her eyes. Turning, her gaze drifts across the sleepers, "They will be okay? How we end the play?"
Bannon is given a grateful nod.
"Friend Dragon, much thanks for the wound soothing."
Then Seyardu, with a breath sucked in, she stands back up, and chuckles a bit in Venom's direction. "I am afraid it is becoming a habit of plays being interrupted by horrible creatures with us around. If anyone else needs further healing, let me know." She says, before turning her attention to Nariel. "The largest chunk appears to be here, but the books have them as well. What should we do to deal with them?"
Soft chimes play towards Bannon's direction. "I will alert the Star Reader about this. So we can secure Vicrah," they gesture off to the warded star stone, addressing everyone's question. "I suggest we gather the pieces. It is safe to do so. The mortals may be inert for some time. They are dreaming, after all."
Golden eyes turn to Randolf. Amusement plays in their notes, but it has serious undertones, "Weaver of Mana. Vicrah has been bested. But they are not defeated. There is still more of them. And they will grow stronger."
That is the question, how does one end this play? The crowd is asleep, the music has stopped, and the scene is over.
Of course, with a bow.
The Heroes best the Nightmare, cheering in victory.
Heroes: So what now?
The rope holding the suspended star rock snaps, and it crashes into the ground.
END ACT II SCENE I
INTERMISSION
The Program Notes
===============================> Companion <================================
Name: Ramirez Type: HIPPOGRIFF SIZE: L Levels: 6
HD: 6 (D8) HP: 39/39 BAB: 4 MELEE: 7 RANGED: 6 AC: 23 CMB: 9 CMD: 22
MOVEMENT: 40 ATTACKS: Bite +7 1d6+4 and 2 claws +7 1d4+4
SPECIAL: DARKVISION 60 FT, DEVOTION, EVASION, GLIDE, LINK, LOW-LIGHT
VISION, MAGICAL CREATURE COMPANION, SCENT, and SHARE SPELLS
Saves: FORTITUDE: 7 REFLEX: 8 WILL: 3
Skills: Fly 1(7), Perception 1(5), and Stealth 3(5)
Feats (3): ARMOR PROF LIGHT and COMBAT REFLEXES
Tricks(9):
Attributes: STR: 18 DEX: 17 CON: 14 INT: 2 WIS: 12 CHA: 11
==============================> Emblem of Ea <==============================
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
23 Vicrah 1
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>> 14 Bannon 1 <<
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10 Seyardu 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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7 Venom 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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6 Randolf 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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6 Paenitia 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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==============================================================================
Vicrah:
https://i.redd.it/f017rnzf39f61.png
music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RYPWxymohWs"
<OOC> Bannon says, "Also, before we get too deep into this, my distraction was to put Pae on the spot to give the blessing with this really long introduction where I get detailed into how she's the "Shorter Teleporter", the "Cavalier That's Up To Here", and "The Knee's Cackling Nightmare". T'would have been glorious."
<OOC> Aryia says, "lawl"
<OOC> Bannon says, "Maybe next time."
<OOC> Paenitia nods....
<OOC> Bannon says, "Ha!"