Book Return - In Character Discussions
- Licornah Reflections
- Branwyn charming Tiberius
- Raelynn Prays
- Conversation with Brer (edit)
- Fives returns to Hell
Reflections and Assistance Attempts
The priestess pondered how she ended up here as she worked the fields and gathered containers for holy water. She had been a priestess living outside Silverymoon, enjoying her days and nights tending to the animals and villagers. Then she got the call to travel, she anticipated it would come, but looking back, had she been ready? Decidedly not. First there were dark dwarves in pandemonium - although, that's not what they called themselves. Protecting the cats was a good calling and she was relieved they'd found forever homes with humans who would respect their gifts and treat them well. She learned that she liked spending her time tending fields, justifying it as healing through culinary arts.
Next came a trip to a plane where the "Mist" actively seeks to maim its visitors. The environs included vampires, swamp elves (?) and other unfriendly creatures. The group didn't seem to give a lot of thought though. Then, they had traveled to the Elven plane -- it was a humbling experience and she'd been grateful for the time with them. It was educational and a chance to get to know the group better. After that, it was let's get on a boat... and that, she had to admit that despite the company, was not a pleasant trip. Too much water, not enough land. She was happy that the group had obtained what they were seeking and were better off for it.
And now, they were preparing to return a cursed book to Hell's athenaeum. It was a daunting, but significant task that Adventurers often have to do... "get this thing", "return this gadget", "retrieve this precious item", "Kidnap this princess", etc. Despite that, Licornah realized that it was a significant undertaking given the complexities of what was ahead, largely due to these reasons:
- Venturing to another plane is tricky with time and movement
- Hell having multiple regions / layers that variety greatly
- The creatures of Hell aren't generally welcoming to visitors
- Good faith of the Adventurers that aren't returned by the denizens of Hell
Standing up from her holy water preparations, she realized she didn't really know how to best help the group. Sure, she had skills and talents, but to date, she hasn't done a great job of putting herself out there, largely feeling overwhelmed by the others' abilities and skills and not wanting to step on toes (appendages?). She reflected that she needed to do better. Lurue had sent her to these Adventurer's to contribute, learn and grow. She'd done a lot of learning and growing, but she was confident if questioned, the group would reflect she hadn't done a lot to contribute, she muses to herself that she needs to work on that.
In her head, she was starting to envision a door opening, sending in a squirrel or rabbit to find the librarian, teleporting there, paying the appropriate fees (what is the currency they need?), and getting out in all good haste. Unfortunately, the reality of it being that simple, was slim. She'd add some blesses and chants to increase the likelihood of success.
How much Holy Water was enough? She glanced around at the containers of water and opted to continue... she wasn't entirely sure. With a nod, she said a word of thanks to Lurue for giving her the opportunity to serve and hoped for the best in the days ahead.
Branwyn Tries to Charm Tiberius
After dinner, the group retreated to the salon for last minute discussions before the opening of the Hell’s gate the next day.
Branwyn turned to face Tiberius. “Look at me please. I need to talk to you about returning from Hell and it’s important. Remember when we came back from the Elflands and lost 6 years here? That was fixed. If we went back and spent a couple days there again, the same thing would happen.
‘The nice thing about Hell is that the time difference when we go is completely under our control,” Branwyn continued cheerily. “We decide how long we will have been away. I think half an hour is more than generous and we will only be gone that long. We control time and we make it work for us.”
Branwyn placed her hand over Tiberius’ heart. “Now I need you to know this in your heart and without any doubt. When we return from Hell, only 30 minutes will have passed here at home. It doesn’t matter what lies anyone tells us. It doesn’t matter how long we stay there or what it feels like. None of that matters! Just like it didn’t matter when we were in the Elflands, it doesn’t matter in Hell. WE say what matters and WE say when it will be when we get back. Trust me and we will go together and we will come back together and we won’t lose any time. 30 minutes gone in our time and no more. Keep that thought in your head and your heart when it is time to go home.” Branwyn let her hand fall from his chest and she took his hand instead.
“If you have any doubt at all, Raelynn can cast a charm spell on you to help with your focus, but I know you are strong, we believe in each other, and we can do this,” Branwyn then turned to the rest of the group. “I know I’ve talked about this with you before. Anyone that is coming to Hell with us and wants help to focus on returning without much time passing needs to get the help of a spell tonight so as not to take any of our priests’ resources on the morning we open the gate.”
"That looked more like enthralling. If you really want to make sure he's charmed, you need to lean in close, make sure he's fully focused on you, but not too close or he'll stop listening to what you say. Lips by his ear, but not on them. Hand over his other ear, but not intertwined in his hair. You whisper those words right there, make it the only thing he hears, make your presence the thing he associates with those words, you know?" said Raelynn, helpfully. Next to her, N'laea rolled her eyes to the slight annoyance of Raelynn. "What? I'm just trying to help if she isn't going to use magic for it."
"If any of the others want to be charmed by you, that may not convince them," replied N'laea, simply.
It was Raelynn's turn to roll her eyes as she said, "I'm not going to do that to anyone uncomfortable with it. It requires touch, but I know what boundaries are. And I certainly know how Fives feels about it if he's considering it. I can just... high five him."
N'laea stiffled a groan at the grin and joke and turned back toward Branwyn. "You will be back quick enough. If that unpleasant mage at the inn could control time, I have no doubts it will be just as easy for you."
Before she could say more, there was a knock at the door which was opened just enough for a head popped in. Red hair, red shirt, and red blush at the unexpected crowd. Still, the man cleared his throat, looking at Branwyn, as he said, "Uh, ma'am? Y'all need my help? Ilero done gone told me to go ta hell then pointed this way, but I ain't certain this is where I'm supposta be, am I?"
Branwyn looked up at the man with a smile. “Ilero told you to go to Hell, did he? Well, you are in the right place. For preparation anyway. Come in and have a seat. You are very welcome. We can get you some food if you’re hungry or at least something to drink. And Raelynn can work her magic on you to prepare you for the journey. Your name is?”
"Olson. Sam Olson, but ma friends just call me Olson, but my cousin calls me a pain in her rear," said the man as he awkwardly shuffled inside to sit down. He added with a mutter, "All high n' mighty with them cows of hers now, ain't she."
Olson cleared his throat, realizing the attention was still on him, and said, louder, "Er, y'all ain't really goin' ta Hell, right? Just one of 'em bad jokes of Ilero?"
"Welcome, Olson. It is nice to meet you. And Ilero doesn’t make bad jokes,” Branwyn said in mock seriousness. “It would be a wonderful thing if no one goes to hell, but yes, in fact, that is a distinct possibility. Look at it this way, if you go then you can literally say you have been to hell and back. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
"To be a dead pig in the sun," said Olson, sighing. "Well, I gotta do what the boss says to do. You ain't gonna stop me from being drunk as a cooter tonight, are ya? 'Cause I think I'm gonna need it to get through tomorra."
Raelynn gathered all the important things she could think of in such a short amount of time: a perfume of roses, fresh bellflowers, artistic candles, a small bottle of glittering lotion, a beautiful song hummed under her breath, a clear glade, loving thoughts, and a gentle breeze. She hadn't really tried this before, but if there was ever a time, it seemed like it should be now, shouldn't it? She wanted to keep her friends whom she loved dearly safe, and it never hurt to ask for help. You could never get a yes if you never asked.
With her recent deeds in mind: returning the cloak of Sehanine Moonbow (one of the trinity bound to Hanali), reuniting Namsut and Maya across the Planes, spreading love and joy to new people and new towns, guiding lovers like Nieven to their true loves, and supporting those love already existing, Raelynn lit the candle and closed her eyes. She let the gorgeous conglomeration of scents, feelings, and emotions meld into one glorious moment of warm before she set to prayer with hope that the allure would grant her a readily listening ear.
"Lady Goldheart, the Winsome Rose and Kiss of Romance, The Archer of Love and Heart of Gold, Goddess of Great Beauty and Generous Heart, please hear my prayer. I come to you as your Lover, a Goldenheart Priestess, to ask for your aid. Wonderful friends of mine, the kind whom have gone through great deeds for their loves and for the loves of others, may be facing extreme hardship soon. They wish to remove a curse from themselves, to protect their family and their love, their friends and themselves, but it is a curse that requires contact with Hell. We do not know what we face, but for the love of my friends, I ask that, if you have any aid or insight, please allow me to hear it and receive it now."
As Raelynn sat in the whirlwind of offerings, her mind filled with the loves she had and wanted to protect, the loves still awaiting her guidance, and the loves she was still trying to find for herself. That was the motivation for her prayer: love. And it was what Raelynn did her best to convey to her Goddess, the Goddess of Love, the one she knew she would always want to follow.
The breeze blew fitfully back and forth across the hillside, unable to pick a direction. Sitting on a boulder was the cloaked and shrouded form of Brer Necholas. From his perch he had a decent view of the surrounding countryside, as far as the Mist would allow. As he sat, his hands calmly ran a rag along the blade of his sword, making sure it was perfectly clean and mirror bright.
"Does that one talk?" asked N'laea as she quietly sat down next to him and nodded at the sword.
Necholas held it out in front of him, twisting it back and forth to look along the blade for any imperfections. "Hmm? Tacharin, talk? *chuckle* No, thankfully. It's just a sword. Ensorcelled, of course, but there's nobody in there. It's very good at listening though. Why do you ask?"
"I had not met a talking sword in over a hundred years. I have met three, now, in a very short amount of time. It is simply on my mind," replied N'laea, shrugging. "How have you been?"
"Hmm. Three of them? Odd..." Finally satisfied with the blade, he quickly reversed it and sheathed it at his side. "Oh, I've been well enough, thanks. No more dragon encounters to speak of. How about you? Fully recovered from your travels beyond our world? Any other excitement?"
"As best I can. It was hard to return from Arvanaith. The others went to Dryads Lair while I took time to reflect," said N'laea, thoughtfully. "Do you often think of where you'll go in Death? Or are you too focused on removing the undead to consider it?"
"Asking the tough questions, I see. Hmm.." He paused for a minute, thinking. "I'm no priest, to argue the ins and outs of the afterlife. There have been moments of doubt, of weakness. I think it's kind of inevitable in every life. And getting back on the Path... it can be hard. I guess... in the end, I just have my Faith, in Lord Ukko, that I'm doing what he commands of me. I don't do it because a priest tells me I'll be rewarded in the afterlife, I do it because I was Called to the task, that I'm doing Ukko's will, and that I'm helping save some innocents from those that hunt them." He shook his head under his cowl and cleared his throat. "I don't know if that made any sense, to an outsider. What is it your Faith has you do?"
"Yes. It is not something I pondered much until I was called to return the cloak to the Goddess. The experience was... unexpected, but I do not suspect I got a full taste of it. I do as I believe Rillifane wants me to do. He did not ask me to remain so I must assume there is more for me to do here." N'laea shrugged, not sure the reason for her question. "It does seem we are being called to the same tasks again. Perhaps it is coincidence, but it is good you will be alongside us again. You are an exceptional fighter. We will need it."
Necholas shrugged. "I appreciate your faith in me. It's a rare enough gift at the best of times. I'm curious though, if you have any thoughts on why they asked for my help? I don't object, but it's very odd. Not many people call on the Order, especially right now."
"You had faith. It has saved us before," replied N'laea with a ghost of a smile. She paused with thought for his other question. "As for why they called you, well, I would say they know your strength in friendship and fight. Branwyn knows what may come may be very dangerous, perhaps the most faced in a long time. She wants to protect all she can, but she needs help doing that. She knows she can count on you for it. Or that is how I see it. Perhaps there is more to it?"
A ghost of a smile played across his face. "Only the gods and Branwyn may truly know. If even she does. Perhaps there are higher forces at work here, perhaps merely mundane." Another pause as he looked around. "What are your thoughts on Jennevieve? Why is she involved in this?"
"She is crafty. I do not trust her, but Branwyn does. Or she at least trusts her to follow through on this adventure," said N'laea before shaking her head. "But one as ambitious as that will one day get bored. Or they will finally get all they need and move on. But she has helped some already, but for what means? Simply putting up a church? I think more is at play."
"She's a schemer. Her involvement could make this whole thing twice as dangerous. I'd be happy if it all turned out to be nothing, but..." His hand gestured outward. "Some people you just don't trust at your back. Maybe you'll be safe, until you aren't."
"Count that as another reason I am glad you are here. If she betrays us, I know you will take care of it," replied N'laea, nearly smiling. "I suppose we will have to wait and see."
Necholas scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm.... There are two things I wonder. Whose idea was it to open a portal to Hell? And whose idea was it to invite me?"
"Hmm, technically Jennevive and Branwyn for the first, and I believe Branwyn for the second, but I was not involved and cannot confirm," replied N'laea, shrugging. "Opening the portal seemed safer than going straight to Hell itself. After Pandemonium, I do not blame taking that course of action. It is difficult traveling the planes."
Necholas chuckled, "No doubt. I hope I never have to find out for myself. I have enough work to do here and now."
A few minutes passed in companionable silence between the two.
"Oh, I just remembered.... that night, I recall you asking my age, and I didn't know for sure. I hadn't realized how much time had slipped away from me until then. I was curious, and figured it out. I passed 100 a little while back, I believe."
A swirl in the Mist caused a local bright spot, as happened occasionally, sort of the inverse of a cloud passing in front of the sun. Brer looked around them. "As no one seems to be near, do you mind if I...?" and he gestured at his hood. He reached up and pulled his hood back, tilting his badly scarred face up to catch the light, dozens upon dozens of thin white lines visible in the light. His eyepatch was on the other side of his head from her, but the strap that held it in place was still visible.
"It is exceedingly rare for a human to reach such an age," remarked N'laea, eyebrow slightly raised. It stayed there upon seeing the scarring on his face. With much more tact than another not worth mentioning, she simply nodded towards the reveal, saying, "Scars have stories. Those from warriors usually more so. Do you wish to share? It looks like a story worth hearing."
Brer reached up and absently ran a finger along one of the more pronounced scar lines, while still looking up into the sunlight. "It's not all that interesting, really. These are the main thing I wanted Branwyn to erase. Old men are common. Old fighters a bit less so, even injured ones, like my eye. These are pretty much unique; means everywhere I go, anyone who sees them and knows of me knows exactly who I am. As soon as I enter anybody's territory, especially a vamp's, they'll know I'm there. That's why I wear the hood all the time, so I can get some sort of anonymity." He sighed deeply and shook his head. "And all because my visor was up when I got dogpiled by a bunch of skeletons when I was a kid. They couldn't really do much through my armor, but they could reach my face."
Brows now furrowed, N'laea said, "My parents were not the greatest, but I cannot imagine them ever allowing me to be in such a situation as a child. What was a kid doing around skeletons? Training?"
Brer chuckled for several moments. "No. No, sorry. My fault. I didn't mean 'kid' as in 'child', just as in 'young and foolish'. When I was still young and new to my calling. Fresh off the farm. Wet behind the ears." He laughed some more, then continued. "I was squired to ... oh dear, what was his name? Monaghan? We're dredging up old memories here. Anyways, he and I were clearing a necromancer's crypt. The skeletons bum-rushed me and managed to do all of this before he could clear them off of me."
"Ah, that sounds more likely. I will not discount a rash kid, wanting to help, running into a crypt, but those that survive become a rash warrior. That is not you," remarked N'laea, thoughtfully. She laughed slightly. "Although, to call memories from only decades ago old, is odd to me."
N'laea lightly ran a finger under her left eye, along a stemmed leaf of her tattoo, as she said, "We have many similarities, but in those similarities are differences. You have scars you must hide to not be recognized. We use our scars to guide our marks, our tattoos. In the forest, they help us blend in more. Is that why you avoid the sun? It makes you stand out?" She tapped the slight scar, gracefully hidden by the emerald tattoo swirling along her cheek, arching across her eye. "I fell into an ancient patch of greenbrier while chasing down an orc in my early years. Perhaps not as dramatic as skeletons piling on me, but as foolish a mistake as leaving your visor up. At least I kept my eye, although that is assuming how you lost it." She gave him a small smile, a real one. "Plants do not give nice clean cuts, but the scar from the worst of it swirled enough to be drawn into vines. The other scars? They are elsewhere with other stories and tattoos to remember them by."
"But I do wonder, how does one find themselves called to your Order? Most of my clan already follows Rillifane in our own way. He provides our homes and forests. Some go into priesthood, others to fight for him, and others simply keep their traditions and rites to him. Your Order is not quite the same, I do not think."
Necholas shook his head. “No, the eye was much later. A ghost punched me,” he replied nonchalantly. “Everyone’s reasons for joining the Order are different. But we’re all united in our desire to hunt down and destroy the undead. For me, volunteers were requested, and I was one of those that responded.”
He sat there for a moment and stroked his beard, thinking. Once or twice he glanced over at N’laea, considering. Then he said, “You’re an elf. Compared to humans, near enough immortal. Would you mind if I ran some thoughts past you, see what you think? Tell me if I’m on a good path with it or not? You have a perspective I don’t.”
"Eliminating the undead is always a worthy cause," said N'laea in agreement. "I'm neither the oldest nor wisest elf you'll find, but I am happy to assist. I cannot guarantee my perspective will be worth much, though."
Brer began talking, “Thank you. Let’s start with, as I said, as an elf you’re potentially immortal, at least from the human perspective. As such, over the decades, you’ll see generations of the humans around you live and die and be replaced. Now, let me change it so that you’re also completely evil, soulless, selfish, self-centered, and the humans around you are also your food source. So long as you don’t get careless or suffer an accident, you can basically feed and live forever.”
“Now, sometimes the food does try to fight back. Usually you can kill the troublesome one fairly easily, but another option you have is, because you live for so long, you can just hide yourself away for a few decades, and that food will grow too old to resist, or forget about you and go away. Especially when there’s a small group of food that persistently tries to fight back. If you kill one, it just gets replaced.”
“But, among this group is one individual who has, for decades, not been killed, and who doesn’t seem to be aging, and has also managed to slay many others of your peers.”
Brer took a deep breath. “I want to make sure that I’m not succumbing to ego or hubris to think that my arrival in a vampire’s territory worries them, or perhaps even scares them. But even my Brothers don’t have the proper perspective to understand. They’re all just so young, basically children. I have very little in common with them any more, other than the mission.”
"How much is real, and how much is ego?"
"My questions were not nearly as tough as this," replied N'laea, her lips nearly quirking. She turned her face away and up towards the sunlight. "Let me reflect a moment."
Companionable silence once more passed between the two as N'laea carefully considered the perspective Necholas sought, thankful he wasn't one to rush her to answer. There wasn't an easy response, but nor did she expect him to ask her a question with one.
"The passage of time is... complicated," stated N'laea, lightly, after awhile. "A decade is a blink of an eye. Unless it is something that happens directly to you or your clan, the rest does not matter. What human settlements rise or fall mean nothing. They are quick, forgettable, simple ant hills that may be washed away in the next flood. But we do not live in a world of only elves so we must adapt. Either we secret ourselves away in the forest, as my clan does, so time passes as we please, or we find ways to be involved in time with festivals and rites to help us better connect with the cycles and therefore our short-lived peers who may significantly impact our lives."
"In a way, you have answered your own question. One who is selfish and self-centered does not believe there will ever be danger. What happened to others will not happen to them. I have seen this with other clans, the ones who do not patrol their forest, who do not think that forgettable human village nearby will cause them trouble, who invite others to their forest. It does not matter that the village is arming itself, that you lost a few clan members, that it stands the test of time. Those clan members were foolish, but you? You are not. That would never happen to you, the one who has lived too long to remember or the one who has not lived long enough to learn."
She turned to face him, studying him, as she continued, "But if you wish to stand out amongst time, you must be persistent. You must not let them forget you. Do you worry them? It is hard to say. If they are those who do not learn, who think they are above time and death, you simply weeded out the weak. You may be worth a thought, but no more. They do not believe themselves to be the weak ones, but that is an advantage, yes? Their underestimation."
"Is an annoying fly, buzzing along your field of vision something to worry about? Perhaps not until it bites you. I would think," said N'laea, slowly, considering her words. "The smart ones would be worried, that is real, but the foolish would not be - even if they should be."
She sighed, wondering how much to say, staring back at the sunlight, before she added, "For what it is worth, in all my many decades of life, you are one of the most formidable I have come across. I would not want to be your enemy. I have met plenty of warriors, but you are more than one who simply swings a sword. You put much thought, much consideration and determination, into your battles. It is a rare and respectable quality. But I imagine, those who realize it, those on the other side of your sword, do not remain long on this plane."
"As my mentor once told me, if you still occasionally question your skills, you'll never underestimate yourself. If you do not know how much is ego, if it troubles you to wanting to seek another's perspective, then I do not believe you have succumbed to it. I am certain you worry those who are paying attention to you through the fog of time, especially as you persist with time, but I do not believe you worry them all. Not yet. But in another decade or two? As you continue to push the expected bounds of your lifespan? Perhaps."
Necholas nodded. "Thank you. I hoped you might be able to look at it from a different view. Not the evil part, of course, but how they might view me among the short-lived humans. And it's not something I can talk about with my Brother, the young men the Order partners me with. They're too new, too young. It's more important for me to guide them through their initial steps properly, than to worry them with my problems, that they'll likely never have to face. Well, pride is a potential problem, all of the sins are. And it has gotten the better of me a couple of times, I try very hard to keep it at bay. But we're none of us perfect."
He chuckled, "At least, I assume Elves have their own versions of the sins such as Pride."
"I know many languages, but I do not know any translation for Pride into Elvish," remarked N'laea with the slightest smile to indicate a joke. "Tsk, but this is the most I have talked in too long. It hurts the throat. You are good company, though. If you still have thoughts you wish to share today, why not give me your perspective on elves? Can you tell the differences between our kind or have you not met enough in your many years?"
Brer watched as the Mist swirled back around to close the gap in the sky again. In the distance a bird called out. He thought for a few minutes, sorting through his memories. “Most of what I know of elves is probably stories or legend, and what I’ve picked up from being around the small group of you here. Your people are very rare inside the Mists.”
“You all seem … very strong in your faith. I’m afraid I don’t recognize any of the names of your gods, and each of you I think follows someone different. But your faith seems very important to all of you, however differently you express it. That wasn’t something in the stories I’d heard.”
“The elves of tales supposedly are … magical. Capricious. Tricky, untrustworthy. Dealing with an elf can bring wondrous gifts, but often at great cost.”
“Which is, oddly enough, almost the exact same things you hear about fairies. I think maybe somewhere along the way, the old fairy tales got mixed up with tales of elves. I haven’t found any of your kind to be anything like the fairy tales I remember.” Brer stroked his beard contemplatively. “I think I remember tales of changelings, human babies stolen in the night and replaced with elfin children. I wonder what prompted those stories in the first place?”
He shrugged, causing a few clanks as his armor plates shifted under his cloak. “I’m definitely out of my depth there though. The only reason I even know that much of the old tales is from when I gather information, looking for signs of undead in an area. The tales told in an area with some active undead are … slightly different than those told in places that have been clean for a while. If a town storyteller tells more ‘creature in the dark’ or ‘mysterious disappearance’ stories than romance or heroics, then maybe it’s worth spending a bit more time in an area, just in case.”
He pulled out his flask and took a long drink of the water within, before offering it to N’laea. “The stories also tend to all sound alike after awhile, too. Sometimes you can make a good guess as to what kind of undead is the root cause of the problem, just from a tall tale told in a tavern. Although it’s hardly reliable. You definitely don’t want to bet your life on that guess.”
He looked over at her. “Tell me, do the elves have undead too? Or is it purely a human thing?”
"You have simply made me need to consider perspective. Most other elves see my kind as... savage, and I think I have sometimes gone in believing humans think the same. But, perhaps, I need to remember that others may not think much at all of me, although some of your stories may be fanciful depictions of such. Or of Drow, or of other Elves. It is hard to trace stories that have lasted millennia."
N'laea reached over for the flask, grateful for the water, something to sooth her throat. After a moment, she replied, "There is nothing more abhorrent than the undead, but what it does to an elf ...it twists their spirits. Rightfully. So many others do not know what to expect in death, but we know. We know Arvanaith awaits. I told you of my difficulty leaving with just the scent of Arvanaith in the air. To take a soul and completely and utterly deny it rest in Arvanaith? Or reincarnation as another? It is beyond unholy. We do not have just vampires. We have creatures far worse: banshee."
Turning to face him, her tone more serious, as she handed the flask back, she continued, "If you come across an undead elf, the kindest thing to do is to kill them. Feel sorry for them. Only the most twisted in thought will ever choose such a fate as undeath. It seems some humans willingly become vampires. I do not understand it. No elf, in their right mind, would ever choose such a fate. Promise you will not only put them out of their misery, but give them their final rites. And if you find out they chose it? Spit on their grave."
Necholas returned her gaze with his one good eye. “Willingly or unwillingly converted into undead, death is the only mercy to grant them. Pity and pray for those that had it forced on them, but they still need to be eliminated, for their own sake as well as for others. I don’t know much of banshees, only vague rumors. Can you teach me anything about them? The signs to look for, their weaknesses and how to vanquish them, what to protect against?”
N'laea chuckled slightly at his sudden, intense interest. There was certainly no doubt he took his calling seriously. She shook her head a little, as she replied, "I can only pass on the knowledge passed on to me. I have not encountered one. They are what we call Arvanaith-Scorned. These are the souls who had one foot on the grass before being ripped away, their boot still left in their print. They are denied rest, torn from that which is most precious when it has already filled their lungs."
"It would drive any being mad," said N'laea, shifting her attention back to the clouds, already missing that slightest brightness of light. "It spreads a hate in them to harm all around them as it is the only feeling strong enough to pierce their insanity. They scream of death, a scream that in itself can cause death."
Shifting through those few stories she knew, she continued, a bit more thoughtful, "I do not believe they have a body. We always refer to them as spirits in our stories. We were told they hate being reminded of their undeath and so will kill anything that is living. There are stories of camps wiped out, the grounds forever haunted by a banshee who has claimed that last bit of their old life, but will refuse to let anything settle in that area again except for them."
"Make of those stories what you will. You undoubtedly can see more patterns in them than I with your experience, know what information is useful to you. They haunt our stories around the campfire, but that is all I know unless you want to hear a campfire story directly. Although that is usually best with a campfire."
Necholas closed his eye, his lips moving slightly as he recited her words silently to himself. “Hmm.. This scream? It’s mentioned in the tiny bit I’d heard of them too. Any idea if merely covering your ears is enough to block the sound? Or would you need magical silence? Or even more than that?” He opened his eye and looked at her again. “If just covering your ears is enough, the old wax earplug trick would work. Otherwise, it would take spellcraft to do it.” He reached up to scratch at his cheek just below the eyepatch.
"My guess is you'd need more," said N'laea, plainly, with the slightest shrug. "Our warriors are not dumb. If a banshee survived to live in our tales, then they required more to remove than common sense."
Necholas nodded thoughtfully. “Mm-hmm….” His fingers twitched slightly, as if counting off items in his head. “I’ll have to see if anyone knows of a single use silence charm… Can’t be like the continual light items, don’t want to be permanently silenced… Although I can think of a few people who could use that.”
He chuckled and shook his head as he brought himself back to the present. “Sorry, got carried away there. Where was I… Oh, yes. Why would other elves think of you as savage? You seem perfectly civilized to me, maybe even more so than most.”
“I can guess a bit why your kind might view humans as savage. We live such shorter lives that it must seem like we’re always rushing around, have no patience, and the like. I’d like to think that essentially our lives are the same as yours, just … compressed. We’re born, grow up, have families and loved ones, and eventually pass on. Humans versus orcs or goblins might be seen in a similar light. They don’t live as long as we do, and they’re often thought of as ‘savages,’ but really, might it merely be impatience?”
"Hmm..." The question, oddly enough, took N'laea off-guard. It was a loaded question, although she did not sense it meant to be as such, but it required a more delicate answer than she often would give, and careful consideration to remove her own bias.
"There are a few different types of Elves, as there are many types of humans. What separates us, as it seems for you, is mostly our ideals and culture. Even the Drow, although much of their circumstances are a curse for their traitorous actions. Except for those rumored to be found in the sea, whom I imagine differ greatly, there are, in the common tongue, those who are considered grey elves, high elves, and wood elves."
"I am sure you understand stereotypes. High elves such as Shi'Nynze are the ones most are likely to encounter as they thrive on adventure and are most open to other races. There are the grey elves who value intelligence and purity, but they are not as hard to find as they claim if you know where to look. But my people, wood elves, rarely care to interact with others." N'laea gave him a sideways, slightly knowing glance. "In all the years you may live, more than I expect any would guess, I will likely be the only wood elf you come across."
With her attention back on the horizon, she continued, "To live in the forest, to remain unbothered by the outside world, requires strength and wisdom. With what little I have told you, I am certain you have a better guess how the grey elves of intelligence or the friendly high elves would view our preference for living. We do not want visitors, and we have no problems making that known in any manner necessary to protect our way of life. We prefer campfire stories to reading books, talking to animals over talking to humanoids, sleeping under the stars to sleeping under a roof. We mark our bodies with tattoos, not perfume. We gather from the forests, not from the markets."
"You do not win me over with kind words as you might a high elf, or a rare book as you might a grey elf. You win me over with a show of strength. And while I might allow that strength to be something more than physical, for most of my clan, actions are words, and strength is what matters."
{Combat ensues}
Fives: looks around as the world around him completely changes from the Mist and Inn to a fetid hellscape.
Fives: You bottom scum-licking shit-for-brains!! What the HELL did you just do?
TMO (Fives): 2 sword attacks and a horn gore on the osyluth
Baatezu Lesser Osyluth: Bringing you to justice you filth
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 23]
Attack [23] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [Hit-AC: -6 vs. 3 ] [AC: -6 ] [CRITICAL HIT]
BOB Go for it, everything on the CT should be correct
BOB Nice
TMO (Fives): BWAHAHAHAH!
TMO (Fives): M or L?
BOB L
Fives: [DAMAGE (M)] Shortsword +3 [TYPE: slashing, magic +3, large (1d8+4=9)] [d8+4 = 9]
[9] -> [to Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [STATUS: Moderate]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 7]
Attack [7] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [Hit-AC: 10 vs. 3 ] [AC: 10 ] [MISS]
TMO (Fives): oh, I totally got busy and forgot to check and see if his horns could affect the Osyluth
BOB grins go for it
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Devilkin Horns [THACO(17)] [d20-1 = 0]
Attack [0] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [Hit-AC: 17 vs. 3 ] [AC: 17 ] [MISS-AUTOMATIC]
TMO (Fives): that would be a NO
BOB This is true
TMO (Fives): we'll have to find out if he ever rolls a hit with it.
TMO (Fives): due to crit, 1 more sword attack, right?
Baatezu Lesser Osyluth: [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(15)] [d20 = 1]
Attack [1] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 14 vs. 3 ] [AC: 14 ] [MISS-AUTOMATIC]
Baatezu Lesser Osyluth: [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(15)] [d20 = 9]
Attack [9] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 6 vs. 3 ] [AC: 6 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Osyluth: [CAST] Tail Strike [at Fives]
Baatezu Lesser Osyluth: [ATTACK (M)] Tail Strike [THACO(15)] [d20 = 11]
Attack [11] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 4 vs. 3 ] [AC: 4 ] [MISS]
BOB WOW
TMO (Fives): brief rewind - I think Fives gets 1 more attack last round. it was his 2 swing round, and 1 was a crit
TMO (Fives): but I'll definitely take all misses!
BOB Yes take that one now too
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 15]
Attack [15] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [Hit-AC: 2 vs. 3 ] [AC: 2 ] [HIT]
Fives: [DAMAGE (M)] Shortsword +3 [TYPE: slashing, magic +3, large (1d8+4=9)] [d8+4 = 9]
[9] -> [to Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [STATUS: Critical]
BOB So it snarls and slash slash and STING and they all miss
TMO (Fives): me likey
TMO (Fives): parry parry dodge!
BOB and now Fives normal turn
Fives: I will piss in your damn skull!
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 16]
Attack [16] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [Hit-AC: 1 vs. 3 ] [AC: 1 ] [HIT]
Fives: [DAMAGE (M)] Shortsword +3 [TYPE: slashing, magic +3, large (1d8+4=6)] [d8+4 = 6]
[6] -> [to Baatezu Lesser Osyluth] [DAMAGE EXCEEDS HIT POINTS BY 1] [STATUS: Dying (0)]
TMO (Fives): shall we record this as my best combat to date? Except for the medusa?
Fives: quickly looks about for a way out, a place to hide, something, anything.
BOB so you slash, slash dodge, weave, slash slash and it collapses in front of you
Fives: [TOWER] [SKILL] Hide In Shadows
Jennevive: OOOF
Jennevive: Damn you fool
Jennevive: If you harm me you will never get your book back
Jennevive: And your guard snuck off with your little toy it looks like
Fives: stays hidden for the moment
Jennevive: You need to stop and make a deal
Jennevive: Bands down to pick up a bone
Bends down to pick up a bone
Jennevive: You want me to take this one back?
Jennevive: How many of these will you exchange for this book?
Sniffs, sensing the air, feeling something is wrong
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: You are not able to read that
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: Why are you here?
Jennevive: Because my damn fool of a friend thought she should return it to you
Fives: silently agrees that she has a point
Jennevive: If we can come to an arrangement you can get your captive out of your wings, I get a favor, you get your book back, and we all live to torment those pitful good souls for another eternity
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: We will talk more
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: Come to my office
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: I will get the Boss and you will have to convince him
Fives: curses silently to hiimself.
sniffing the air again
Baatezu, Greater, Pit Fiend 1: Calls out "Cleaners, get here and get this organized again"
Low growl, reaches out for Jennevive's arm,
Jennevive: HAH,
SNAPS out her whip and wraps it around his neck
Fives: plots a path to try and follow them when they leave.
Jennevive: Now you can lead
BOB and they disapear, teleporting to another location
Fives: Well.... shit.
BOB The wind blows, a constant low howl
BOB and you can see and hear figures moving along the roadway
TMO (Fives): Does Fives have any idea where a standard portal might be in or around the Library?
BOB No
Fives: [TOWER] [SKILL] Devil Lore [MOD:INT] (vs. Target 16) [FAILURE by 1] [d20 = 17]
BOB Would he understand that this is the library now?
BOB That the bones are the stories, the records of life
TMO (Fives): interesting
Fives: Alright. Goal number 1, don't die. Goal number 2, don't get caught.
Fives: grabs one of the minor bones off the ground and slides it into a pouch.
Fives: then looks for a way out away from the oncoming cleaners.
Fives: [TOWER] [SKILL] Move Silently [PERCENT:Move Silently] (vs. Target 70) [FAILURE by 19] [d100 = 89]
BOB So Fives starts cautiously out from his hiding place of the tree
BOB and CRUNCH
TMO (Fives): naturally
BOB and is surrounded by three Abishai,
Fives: Hope no one wanted to read that
BOB Black winged, blowing gusts of wind in front of them
BOB and in honor of Lemon apparently the one notices you and comes over to investigate
TMO (Fives): luv it
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [CAST] Tail Stinger Attack [at Fives]
Fives: [SAVE] vs. Poison [d20 = 14]
Save [14] [Target 12] -> [for Fives] [vs Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [TARGET-SAVED]
TMO (Fives): tis doubtful, but any chance for a silent backstab on it before it raises an alarm?
TMO (Fives): doesn't it have to hit first?
BOB You get a set of attacks as it is attacking you
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 3]
Attack [3] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 14 vs. 3 ] [AC: 14 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 6]
Attack [6] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 11 vs. 3 ] [AC: 11 ] [MISS]
TMO (Fives): does he need to reroll his Natural Weapons skill? not sure if this counts as a new combat encounter or not
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [CAST] Tail Stinger Attack [at Fives]
Fives: [SAVE] vs. Poison [d20 = 20]
Save [20] [Target 12] -> [for Fives] [vs Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [TARGET-SAVED]
TMO (Fives): dodge dodge parry!
BOB You get your attacks now
TMO (Fives): does he need to reroll Natural Weapons to get his horn attack?
BOB and phone brb
BOB Yes
TMO (Fives): that's at the start of each combat
Fives: kthx
Fives: [SKILL] Natural Fighting [MOD:STR] (vs. Target 17) [SUCCESS by 12] [d20 = 5]
Fives: tries to keep this fight swift, simple, and silent, to hopefully avoid the notice of the other two, althought it's probably futile
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 19]
Attack [19] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: -2 vs. 5 ] [AC: -2 ] [HIT]
Fives: [DAMAGE (M)] Shortsword +3 [TYPE: slashing, magic +3, large (1d8+4=9)] [d8+4 = 9]
[9] -> [to Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [STATUS: Moderate]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Devilkin Horns [THACO(17)] [d20-1 = 1]
Attack [1] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 16 vs. 5 ] [AC: 16 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 15]
Attack [15] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 2 vs. 3 ] [AC: 2 ] [HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE] Tail Stinger Attack [TYPE: piercing,magic +1 (1d4+1=2)] [d4+1 = 2]
[2] -> [to Fives]
Fives: [SAVE] vs. Poison [d20 = 13]
Save [13] [Target 12] -> [for Fives] [SUCCESS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 16]
Attack [16] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 1 vs. 3 ] [AC: 1 ] [HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 20]
Attack [20] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: -3 vs. 3 ] [AC: -3 ] [CRITICAL HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 8]
Attack [8] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 9 vs. 3 ] [AC: 9 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE (M)] Claw Attack #1 [TYPE: slashing,magic +1 (1d4=1)] [d4 = 1]
[1] -> [to Fives]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE (M)] Claw Attack #1 [TYPE: slashing,magic +1 (1d4=2)] [d4 = 2]
[2] -> [to Fives] [STATUS: Heavy]
Fives: grins maniacally and pulls his thumb across his throat, indicating what he's going to do to the devil, and then attacks.
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 5]
Attack [5] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 12 vs. 5 ] [AC: 12 ] [MISS]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 15]
Attack [15] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 2 vs. 5 ] [AC: 2 ] [HIT]
Fives: [DAMAGE (M)] Shortsword +3 [TYPE: slashing, magic +3, large (1d8+4=10)] [d8+4 = 10]
[10] -> [to Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [STATUS: Heavy]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 2]
Attack [2] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 15 vs. 3 ] [AC: 15 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 9]
Attack [9] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 8 vs. 3 ] [AC: 8 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 12]
Attack [12] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Jennevive] [Hit-AC: 5 vs. 10 ] [AC: 5 ] [HIT]
Fives: [SAVE] vs. Poison [d20 = 18]
Save [18] [Target 12] -> [for Fives] [SUCCESS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE] Tail Stinger Attack [TYPE: piercing,magic +1 (1d4+1=2)] [d4+1 = 2]
[2] -> [to Fives]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)'s health adjusted by +3
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 5]
Attack [5] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 12 vs. 5 ] [AC: 12 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 20]
Attack [20] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: -3 vs. 3 ] [AC: -3 ] [CRITICAL HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 2]
Attack [2] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 15 vs. 3 ] [AC: 15 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 5]
Attack [5] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 12 vs. 3 ] [AC: 12 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE (M)] Claw Attack #1 [TYPE: slashing,magic +1 (1d4=1)] [d4 = 1]
[1] -> [to Fives]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 12]
Attack [12] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 5 vs. 3 ] [AC: 5 ] [MISS]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [AC: 2 ] [d20+3 = 15]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 4]
Attack [4] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 13 vs. 5 ] [AC: 13 ] [MISS-AUTOMATIC]
Fives: [ATTACK (M)] Shortsword +3 [THACO(17)] [d20+3 = 5]
Attack [5] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: 12 vs. 5 ] [AC: 12 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)'s health adjusted by +1
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #1 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 5]
Attack [5] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 12 vs. 3 ] [AC: 12 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 18]
Attack [18] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: -1 vs. 3 ] [AC: -1 ] [HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 20]
Attack [20] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork)] [Hit-AC: -3 vs. 5 ] [AC: -3 ] [CRITICAL HIT]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [ATTACK (M)] Claw Attack #2 [THACO(17)] [d20 = 10]
Attack [10] ->[ATTACK (M)] [at Fives] [Hit-AC: 7 vs. 3 ] [AC: 7 ] [MISS]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE (M)] Claw Attack #1 [TYPE: slashing,magic +1 (1d4=2)] [d4 = 2]
[2] -> [to Fives]
Fives: [SAVE] vs. Poison [d20 = 11]
Save [11] [Target 12] -> [for Fives] [FAILURE]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE] Tail Stinger Attack [TYPE: piercing,magic +1 (1d4+1=5)] [d4+1 = 5]
[5] -> [to Fives] [STATUS: Critical]
Baatezu Lesser Abishai, Black (Heartbreaking regretful footwork): [DAMAGE #2] Tail Stinger Attack [TYPE: poison,magic +1 (20d20=219)] [20d20 = 219]
Effect ['Dead'] -> [to Fives]
[219] -> [to Fives] [INSTANT DEATH] [STATUS: Dead (-214)]
Fives's spirit devolves back down the chain. He reawakens in a new body, a new chance to prove that he can out wit and defeat those above him.
