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IC Morgrave High: Passing Marks 7

OldKentuckyShark

Doritos from Japan
Validated User
Oops. I meant to make a new thread for my last post because of the post limit.

Here is the 7th IC thread. More to follow.
 

Ax_

Registered User
Validated User
Owen grunts. “I don’t need charity.” Then he relents. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll find the money.”
Nicodemus looks at Owen for a moment, his face kept carefully unreadable.
Then he shrugs and decides to just go with it
"Alright.
If you say so."

The Night Klaushade Went Crazy
Moira grins, with a flash of canine. “Yes. We will.”
He can't help but feel relief - it's nice to see his attempt at being reassuring has some result.
And once again, Moira shows she's the best girlfriend/lover ever.
But was there ever really any doubt?

”Whatever! Flame on!” Cassia says, ducking for cover.
A part of him, even if it's a small part since most of him is focused on fighting this void-creature, can't help but find it bizarrely funny that Cassia is such a coward in this situation.
Where has all the attitude gone?

The Klaushade shrieks as light and arrows pierce its shadowy essence. Bits of it shred and blow away, disinitegrating into motes.

And then it simply sinks through the floor.

“Did we kill it?” Moira asks.

“It’s a ghost, dummy,” Cassia says, from a shadowy corner of the room. “It can duck through walls. Right now it’s biding its time, or looking for someone else to feed on so it can restore itself.”
No.
That shall not come to pass.
He won't allow it.

The Klaushade attacked - and as Moira said, it's like a wolf.
You don't leave a wolf a chance to retreat in order to come back and kill you later.

Nicodemus pauses, as something occurs to him
...Like a wolf?
Hm, maybe that could work.

It has gotten a taste of fear, and that was with light.
Let's see if that can't be put to use.

Already, Nicodemus was spinning his spear, before suddenly stopping, holding it in a white-knuckled grip.
He slams the spear into the ground, point first - and silver lines start spreading from that point of contact.
This isn't meant to drag the Klaushade towards them.
Rather, it's meant to put the light all around it, forcing it to move where Nicodemus wants or rush right into the overwhelming light.

They can't afford to have it just get away.
There is to be no escape for evil.

Spoiler: Show

25!

My goal here is to basically put as much light as possible, in a way that will drive it back up, due to fear of the light which hurt it - people have been using things that scared animals (fire, loud sounds, that sort of thing) to drive them where they want in hunting for ages, so this is the same principle, only applied to theurgic power.

Given that Moira hit it with a Dazing arrow, it shouldn't be that far away from us just yet.


"Yes. We will get bottles and Abigail can make a boomerang all her own. I think this is a good success."

The fact that Nicodemus will pay for it all is what makes this a best success.
Pay for it with booze, at that.

”Everyone wins!” Abigail says. Especially the people who aren’t paying for it. “Soon, Boomerang will be reincarnated, just like me!”

Xerk gives her a curious look.
Welp, time to hurry this meeting to an end, before uncomfortable questions come up
"That's not the proper way to say it, Abby.
Anyway, let's head off, for now."
 

ShadowWhispers

Mathemagician
RPGnet Member
Validated User
”Aye aye, captain.” Ashley looks up at Kyri. “I don’t think I can turn all that into a frog….”
"Once you get the knack for sympathetic symbology down, size will prove to be less of an impediment than you might think," Renaya says. "But in this case I am uncertain that turning her into an amphibian of similar size to our current reduced state would be to our benefit in any event; I have no particular desire to examine the digestive tract of a polymorphed frog from the inside."

Renaya successfully clings to the giant child’s back.

Meanwhile, Kyri stomps over to the opposing army, chasing Emily on her ponicorn. “Kitty!” she says, smashing her way through a shield wall formation of armored brownies. The forces of Summer scatter beneath her feet, made of so much collateral damage.

Suddenly, Kyri leaps! Spreading her arms wide, she lands on top of the charging changeling, making a hoop of her arms and chest. Emily and her ponicorn are corralled within the little girl’s arms, running in tight circles while Kyri giggles.

A 50-foot tall 4 year old is quite terrifying, up close.
When Kyri goes to ground, Renaya is jostled free of her grip on the wheel apparatus, flipping over forward and landing upside down on the colossal child's back. She rolls over, shaking her head to clear it as she regains her bearings. Seeing a chance too good to pass up, she pushes herself to her feet and makes a somewhat halting dash along Kyri's back, trying to get to the ribbon collar before the ground beneath her decides to change positions but not so surefooted as to be able to do so at a sprint.

She almost doesn't notice when Faela's glowing form reappears next to her as she runs, hovering just far enough over Kyri's back to completely avoid her mistress's footing issues. Her half second of relief at the fact that her backup should be inbound any moment is quickly replaced by wide-eyed terror at the realization of what's likely to happen once it does, causing her to redouble her efforts to make it into place.

And, indeed, no sooner does she lay a hand on the ribbon, desperately searching for the clasp with both eyes and intuitive object-based magical senses, than a crashing sound echoes through the wood, vibrations once again shaking the earth. Moments later a long shadow falls over the battlefield. Its source, a lithe but even larger titan, strides across the battlefield with ease, albiet with a little more care as to where its enormous doe-leather slippers land than its counterpart. It wears a long tunic belted at the waist, with a sunburst-patterned tabard hastily overlain, and carries a vaguely man-shaped contraption that looms over everything else at hand other Kyri and itself.

It stops a few actual feet in front of the half-orc colossus. "Hi, are you Kyri? My name's Tashric," Renaya's six-year-old brother says with that distinctive childish mix of shyness and confidence. He pulls some leaves from his dash through the forest out of his unruly mop of extremely blonde hair, and holds out the thing in his hands. "I brought a fight-y dance-y puppet. Wanna play?" he asks, with a friendly grin entirely lacking in guile.

Spoiler: Show
In the interest of fairness I went ahead and made an Acrobatics check of 12 for Ren's running stunt, which while not great seems like it should be adequate to the circumstances (mostly I was checking to see if she failed embarrassingly since she is not actually good at this!)
 

Anglachel

10th level Vice President
Validated User
Hotness:

Jox tries to dodge the onslaught. "Curse you sexy temptress! The reign of the Claus will not be stopped by mere words." Jox then leaps off the building and grabs torwards the floating board.
 

Sage Genesis

Two
RPGnet Member
Validated User
You sort of are.
I meant, one I'm not also a part of.


”It is the ax of Snori, first of the line of Snori,” Raven says.

“We were never very clever about names,” Uncle Gunnar mutters.

“It’s the symbol of office for the Clan Chieftain,” Raven tries to explain. “All the Kundarak bloodlines descend from one of the old Mror Clans. Grandad is the clan chieftain. Giving his axe to Mom… that’s as good as saying that she’s the new heir to become chieftain of the Snori.”

“Chieftains have always been male,” Gunnar adds. “Up until now…?”
"Oh, so he gave her a clan. That is even better. Do you think your mother taking up a man-work will make her more or less likely to approve of us?"


[OOC: Raven speaks Giant/Drow now, by the way. That’s what she spent her class boon on. Her dialect is Olde Fashioned and her accent is abominable, but she speaks it.]

Raven takes one look at the book and turns bright pink.

“It’s a Gildenshrebel; a bloodline journal,” Gunnar supplies helpfully. “Here is the annotated bloodline of the Snori line, and here is where you would put your house’s bloodline. This bit,” he says, pointing at what looks like an accounts ledger, “is a list of related dowries and alliance gifts given between Snori and other bloodlines. Again, the blank sections are where you would put yours, if you have any.”

He gives Xali a curious, appraising look. “If you were a male dwarf suitor, asking for Brynni’s hand in marriage, or if your family was trying to arrange a marriage, presenting one of these books would be one of the first steps to determining compatibility. Him giving one to you… I think he’s saying that he doesn’t mind.”
Ah, he approves of Xali, the wise drow. This is in itself also a sign of wisdom. Xali likes the old guy even better now. She'd have to reward his drow-fanboyness by filling in the book some time. Xali knows some bits about her ancestors from songs but she'll need her father to fill in the blanks. And as for accounts... does land count? The drow claim quite a bit of ruins and cavern and jungle, but she's not sure what they'd be worth. She must remember to pack the book on the trip home.

"I will consult with accountants to fill in this book," she carefully hazards. Tribal storytellers are a type of accountant, right?


“Soon, Boomerang will be reincarnated, just like me!”

Xerk gives her a curious look.
"Abig-El was killed by Doomsday in the 90's, but it turned out to be a healing coma."

Another not-so-subtle clue to mind his own business.
 

OldKentuckyShark

Doritos from Japan
Validated User
ir'Tarn Residence, Long Shadows, Sharn:

"Do you want me to kill you?," Alishia growled, advancing until she was face-to-face with the changeling. "Is that your master plan here? 'Cause I gotta admit, I'm startin' to come around to it."
”Of course not! I am insulting you because I am terrified and angry and I am using sarcasm as a coping mechanism!” Rei shouts, “Because I am locked in a water closet with a woman with the emotional intelligence of an ogre!”



Alishia wasn't scared of many things, spiders among them, but there was a difference between not being scared by spiders in the general, abstract sense and not being scared of spiders in the immediate sense when one suddenly found themselves inadvertently passing through a person made of spiders who had seemed much more solid to all appearances a moment ago.

The pain in her gut was hastily shoved into the back of her mind as more pressing matters shoved their way to the fore and she reflexively recoiled away from the partially disassembled Lady ir'Tarn with as much dignity as she could muster (which at that point wasn't much, she was forced to concede), clamping down on the shout rising in her throat lest several arachnids wind up in her mouth. She slammed backwards into the opposite wall, knocking loose a cascade of spiders from her arms and hair to scuttle their way back to where they'd come from, her skin feeling as though it was about to crawl right off her body. "Oh yeah, definitely the worst dinner ever."
Lady Alera reforms, more or less returning to normal, if having a spider crawl out of your mouth can be called normal. “Are you all right dear? Did the assassin hurt you?”


"No!," Alishia shouted along with her, albeit for entirely different reasons. Of all the times for the Purse to actually try and be helpful it had to be this one. She could feel the floor go slick underneath her, the spell similar to one they used at the foundries in Passage to keep the overhead gantries running smoothly, and she knew all too well how treacherous it could be if it accidentally got underfoot. But even at an upper class dinner such as this, even the dressiest shoes she owned still had a good set of high-traction soles...just in case.

At this rate the Kell was never going to make it through the sudden tangle of briars before she got caught which meant, once again, it was up to her to give the would-be assassin a hand making it out of the ir'Tarn's manor alive and uninterrogated. Huffing with exasperation...honestly, what sort of assassin couldn't manage a daring escape on her own?...she got as good of a grip on the floor as she could manage and bolted forward, feet skidding along the ground before she launched herself into the air and forcefully tackled the Kell the rest of the way through brambles. "Sand!," she thought towards her boyfriend as loudly as she could, gritting her teeth as she smashed through the thorny tangle to keep from yelling the words out loud, "she's a Kell! The Riedran's a Kell and she's stuck telling the truth! We need to get her out of here, now!"

Spoiler: Show

An Acrobatics of 19 to get me and the Kell through the Hallway of Incredible Discomfort if it matters.
”I… see.” Sand says, sounding surprised. There’s a brief moment of hesitation, and then the Purse abruptly hits the ground, tripping over something outside of Alishia’s view before he can release a magical missile.

“I am dreadfully sorry,” Sandovish says, in a monotone.

With Alishia’s help Rei gets to her feet, and punches through the briars. Regaining her feet, she dodges over the puddle of greese, running horizontally along the surface of the hallway and landing on the other side. Then she starts sprinting for the far window…

…before abruptly slamming into something like an iron bar held out at neck height. It’s the bicep of a goliath, and it’s followed a heartbeat later by more than twenty stone of half-giant slamming her into the wall so hard she cracks the plaster. Drago ofdenson appears, straightening his bow tie. He’s ripping the sleeves off his suit, the better to perform a falling elbow drop; he does this now, driving all the breath out of Rei’s prone body.

Drago stands up, raising a massive fist. “I have defeat an enemy,” he announces. “Bring me beer, and a woman, so that I may celebrate in the manner of my people.”

“Oh, hell no,” Ella says.




No.
That shall not come to pass.
He won't allow it.

The Klaushade attacked - and as Moira said, it's like a wolf.
You don't leave a wolf a chance to retreat in order to come back and kill you later.

Nicodemus pauses, as something occurs to him
...Like a wolf?
Hm, maybe that could work.

It has gotten a taste of fear, and that was with light.
Let's see if that can't be put to use.

Already, Nicodemus was spinning his spear, before suddenly stopping, holding it in a white-knuckled grip.
He slams the spear into the ground, point first - and silver lines start spreading from that point of contact.
This isn't meant to drag the Klaushade towards them.
Rather, it's meant to put the light all around it, forcing it to move where Nicodemus wants or rush right into the overwhelming light.

They can't afford to have it just get away.
There is to be no escape for evil.

Spoiler: Show

25!

My goal here is to basically put as much light as possible, in a way that will drive it back up, due to fear of the light which hurt it - people have been using things that scared animals (fire, loud sounds, that sort of thing) to drive them where they want in hunting for ages, so this is the same principle, only applied to theurgic power.

Given that Moira hit it with a Dazing arrow, it shouldn't be that far away from us just yet.
You have successfully created a spear of (sorta of) ghost-turning.

Moira stares at the glowing spear. “That’s really clever! Nico, you’re a genius!” She pulls an arrow from her quiver and hands it to Nicodemus. “Here! The arrowhead! Make it glow. I think I have an idea!”

The arrowhead is, of course, the holy symbol of the Silver Flame.




"Once you get the knack for sympathetic symbology down, size will prove to be less of an impediment than you might think," Renaya says. "But in this case I am uncertain that turning her into an amphibian of similar size to our current reduced state would be to our benefit in any event; I have no particular desire to examine the digestive tract of a polymorphed frog from the inside."
”Also, warts of equivalent size,” Ashley says with a nod. “Gross.”



When Kyri goes to ground, Renaya is jostled free of her grip on the wheel apparatus, flipping over forward and landing upside down on the colossal child's back. She rolls over, shaking her head to clear it as she regains her bearings. Seeing a chance too good to pass up, she pushes herself to her feet and makes a somewhat halting dash along Kyri's back, trying to get to the ribbon collar before the ground beneath her decides to change positions but not so surefooted as to be able to do so at a sprint.

She almost doesn't notice when Faela's glowing form reappears next to her as she runs, hovering just far enough over Kyri's back to completely avoid her mistress's footing issues. Her half second of relief at the fact that her backup should be inbound any moment is quickly replaced by wide-eyed terror at the realization of what's likely to happen once it does, causing her to redouble her efforts to make it into place.

And, indeed, no sooner does she lay a hand on the ribbon, desperately searching for the clasp with both eyes and intuitive object-based magical senses, than a crashing sound echoes through the wood, vibrations once again shaking the earth. Moments later a long shadow falls over the battlefield. Its source, a lithe but even larger titan, strides across the battlefield with ease, albiet with a little more care as to where its enormous doe-leather slippers land than its counterpart. It wears a long tunic belted at the waist, with a sunburst-patterned tabard hastily overlain, and carries a vaguely man-shaped contraption that looms over everything else at hand other Kyri and itself.

It stops a few actual feet in front of the half-orc colossus. "Hi, are you Kyri? My name's Tashric," Renaya's six-year-old brother says with that distinctive childish mix of shyness and confidence. He pulls some leaves from his dash through the forest out of his unruly mop of extremely blonde hair, and holds out the thing in his hands. "I brought a fight-y dance-y puppet. Wanna play?" he asks, with a friendly grin entirely lacking in guile.

Spoiler: Show
In the interest of fairness I went ahead and made an Acrobatics check of 12 for Ren's running stunt, which while not great seems like it should be adequate to the circumstances (mostly I was checking to see if she failed embarrassingly since she is not actually good at this!)
You successfully make it to the ribbon; only to discover that what looked like simple cloth from a distance is in fact forged from slender, crossthreaded enameled steel wire made to look like a child’s ribbon. It’s as if someone anticipated that this might turn into a test of favors and boobytrapped the most obvious and eye-catching potential favor. In case there was any question of the handiwork, the ribbon is doubled back and fashioned in place by a serrated-teeth hairclip mechanism, which itself is locked by a fiendishly difficult looking lock mechanism bearing the sigil of the Dauphin.

Kyri looks up from her horsey shyly. She starts to stand and make a curtsy, as her mother told her to do on meeting elves, but she belatedly remembers that she’s trapping Emily and instead rises only to her knees before flopping back down again. “I’ve got a tiny horsey,” she offers. “Wanna make ‘em fight?”


Hotness:

Jox tries to dodge the onslaught. "Curse you sexy temptress! The reign of the Claus will not be stopped by mere words." Jox then leaps off the building and grabs torwards the floating board.
”S-sexy?!” Quillian demands. She’s so startled that she almost falls off the board when Jox makes aflying leap for her.

Jox discovers instantly that what looked like weird upholstery on the flying wing is, in fact, a flying carpet that’s been tied around a surfboard to make a crude flying surfboard. The ropes tying it on were never designed to support the weight of a warforged; with a rip and a tearing sound, jox finds himself in possession of half a flying carpet.

Quillian screams and falls, crabbing the carpet’s other end. It bunches up over the board, making a mid-air parabola, with jox dangling from one end and Quillian from the other, face to face.

“You idiot! You’ll kill us both!”



"Oh, so he gave her a clan. That is even better. Do you think your mother taking up a man-work will make her more or less likely to approve of us?"
”Uhh…” Raven says. She’s absolutely stunned. “Uh, probably not more likely. She’s already going to be facing a lot of scrutiny from the other clan chiefs for being a woman.” She shakes her head. “Do you get how big a deal this is? The house divides its business geographically, by clan. Mom would be the head banker for Breland, Darguun, Droaam, the Shadow Marches, and Zilargo.”


Ah, he approves of Xali, the wise drow. This is in itself also a sign of wisdom. Xali likes the old guy even better now. She'd have to reward his drow-fanboyness by filling in the book some time. Xali knows some bits about her ancestors from songs but she'll need her father to fill in the blanks. And as for accounts... does land count? The drow claim quite a bit of ruins and cavern and jungle, but she's not sure what they'd be worth. She must remember to pack the book on the trip home.

"I will consult with accountants to fill in this book," she carefully hazards. Tribal storytellers are a type of accountant, right?
Uncle Gunnar looks amused. “I look forward to reading it,” he says sincerely.

“Oh, wow,” Merta cuts in. Her gift was a set of elaborate emerald hairpins, which she has just finished fastening in place. “That’s a cool book!” She points at the ledger side. “Normally, this is for when someone from outside the House wants to marry into it; since they don’t bring any marked bloodlines, they usually bring a dowry; it’s called ‘pay to play’.”

“Are you really filling it out?” she asks curiously, eyeing Raven. “You must have lots of money and power. Ooh! Are you a drow princess? That’s a thing that exists, right?”




"Abig-El was killed by Doomsday in the 90's, but it turned out to be a healing coma."

Another not-so-subtle clue to mind his own business.
Xerk gives Xali a dull look; he would not, if this were Xendrik, be the shiniest zechar on the tree.

“Sure, whatever.” Then he changes tack. “Listen, after you’re done walking your pet human, would you like to grab a drink?”
 
Last edited:

Ax_

Registered User
Validated User
You have successfully created a spear of (sorta of) ghost-turning.

Moira stares at the glowing spear. “That’s really clever! Nico, you’re a genius!”
Nicodemus lifts the blade up, and looks at it carefully.
...Well it'll have to do.

Then Moira speaks, and he looks at her, unable to stop himself from forming a small smile at her comments.
"Mm."

She pulls an arrow from her quiver and hands it to Nicodemus. “Here! The arrowhead! Make it glow. I think I have an idea!”

The arrowhead is, of course, the holy symbol of the Silver Flame.
Nicodemus blinks at that, but nods and grabs the arrow, sending as much power as can safely be put through it.
Turns out, the arrowhead, as the holy symbol of the Silver Flame, is an ideal conduit for Theurgic power.

Silver fires seem to appear around it, before they sink down into the metal - and then another fire appears, and does the same.
Again and again, the power of the Silver Flame is focused down into the tiny piece of metal, as it grows brighter and brighter by the moment, yet oddly this is different from how Nicodemus usually glows.
This is firmly controlled, held in check.

Spoiler: Show

29 to help out with whatever the idea is - I've got a hunch what it might be, but best not to assume anything


When it's finally done, he looks at it, and nods, satisfied - this is about as much as it should be able to take.

Xerk gives Xali a dull look; he would not, if this were Xendrik, be the shiniest zechar on the tree.

“Sure, whatever.” Then he changes tack. “Listen, after you’re done walking your pet human, would you like to grab a drink?”
...Hah.
This one is going to try and flirt with Xali?
Oh, he's got to see this.
 

Kai Tave

Registered User
Validated User
ir'Tarn Residence, Long Shadows, Sharn:

”Of course not! I am insulting you because I am terrified and angry and I am using sarcasm as a coping mechanism!” Rei shouts, “Because I am locked in a water closet with a woman with the emotional intelligence of an ogre!”
Alishia continued to meet the changeling's accusatory gaze for a moment before finally relenting. "Yeah all right, fair enough," she said, rubbing the back of her head. "Not that I'm agreeing with last bit, but okay. Look, I'm sorry about all this but, y'know, I really did think you were Riedran here. And seriously, keep it down will ya'?"

Lady Alera reforms, more or less returning to normal, if having a spider crawl out of your mouth can be called normal. “Are you all right dear? Did the assassin hurt you?”
Alishia shook her head, both in answer to the question and to dislodge any remaining spiders that might be in her hair. "No, no I'm fine," she said breathlessly, the pain beginning to fade...and she was fine, she'd been stabbed harder and with far worse results before...but pain wasn't exactly what she was worried about right now.

”I… see.” Sand says, sounding surprised. There’s a brief moment of hesitation, and then the Purse abruptly hits the ground, tripping over something outside of Alishia’s view before he can release a magical missile.

“I am dreadfully sorry,” Sandovish says, in a monotone.

With Alishia’s help Rei gets to her feet, and punches through the briars. Regaining her feet, she dodges over the puddle of greese, running horizontally along the surface of the hallway and landing on the other side. Then she starts sprinting for the far window…

…before abruptly slamming into something like an iron bar held out at neck height. It’s the bicep of a goliath, and it’s followed a heartbeat later by more than twenty stone of half-giant slamming her into the wall so hard she cracks the plaster. Drago ofdenson appears, straightening his bow tie. He’s ripping the sleeves off his suit, the better to perform a falling elbow drop; he does this now, driving all the breath out of Rei’s prone body.

Drago stands up, raising a massive fist. “I have defeat an enemy,” he announces. “Bring me beer, and a woman, so that I may celebrate in the manner of my people.”

“Oh, hell no,” Ella says.
They were nearly there. Alishia felt her shawl get yanked off her shoulders, caught in the brambles as she tackled Rei clear past them, thorns scratching at her arms and face as they emerged on the other side. She scrambled to her feet just slowly enough to give the unfortunate assassin a head start...the window was in sight...just a little bit further...

...and then Drago, moving faster than anyone his size had any right do, was driving her down to the ground with one massive arm, followed up by an elbow that she knew meant that Rei wasn't going anywhere soon.

They were nearly there. She could have screamed. "Stupid Kells, stupid Quori, stupid Drago, stupid spiders, stupid stupid stupid..." All she had wanted to do was help, that was all she'd wanted to do...keeping people from making a deal with nightmare monsters from beyond, was that really so bad? But no, everything had to be complicated, everybody had to keep helping.

Her mind hadn't stopped racing since this entire fiasco had begun and so when Rei hit the ground she sprang into action as quickly as she could, dropping down behind the changeling and grabbing her in a choke hold just as Master Ryven has taught her. "Sorry," she murmured into the Kell's ear, "plan B." Conscious, and consequently truthful, the would-be infiltrator was a danger to both their plans...her unconsciousness bought them a little more time to figure something else out that would doubtlessly cause even more problems than it solved.

Sometimes trying to do the right thing sucked.

"Everybody get back!," she shouted as she blocked off the flow of blood to the changeling's brain. "Stay back! She's got some sort of mind magic, as long as she's conscious she's dangerous!" While that was going on she frantically thought towards Sandovish. "Sand, listen to me, we have got to get her out of here or everything's blown...who she really is, why she's really here, probably the fact that I told her to stab me, and Riedra walks away clean. If you really want to hurt them and keep her safe then you have to help me sell this. So right now she's Riedran, she's too dangerous to keep or question here, and we need to get her somewhere else, preferably somewhere we can figure out a way to wrap this all up so nobody gets hurt. And for Gods' sake tell Ella this time, we need all the help we can get."
 

ShadowWhispers

Mathemagician
RPGnet Member
Validated User
You successfully make it to the ribbon; only to discover that what looked like simple cloth from a distance is in fact forged from slender, crossthreaded enameled steel wire made to look like a child’s ribbon. It’s as if someone anticipated that this might turn into a test of favors and boobytrapped the most obvious and eye-catching potential favor. In case there was any question of the handiwork, the ribbon is doubled back and fashioned in place by a serrated-teeth hairclip mechanism, which itself is locked by a fiendishly difficult looking lock mechanism bearing the sigil of the Dauphin.
"Ah, lovely," Renaya says quietly (and only a little sarcastically) as she slips a rope around her shoulders into a crude in-place work harness and ties herself to the ribbon to free up her hands. "This rather neatly absolves me of any misplaced charges of unfairness that might have resulted from my choice of rules. Although it does mean that I have one less option for my escape, as it would be difficult to co-opt this material into a parachute on the way down."

She inspects the lock with professional thoroughness. "Surprising that he managed to get her to sit still long enough to get this on her," she says thoughtfully. "Especially given the little surprise nested in the lock there; that could have been troublesome if it had been triggered by overactive squirming. I would not have wanted to be in a room with her mother after accidentally turning the child into a butterfly. Still," she adds, reaching into her sleeves and withdrawing a set of vials of strangely colored liquid and tools of various descriptions, "thinking that metal wire provides any substantially better bar to simply cutting the ribbon demonstrates an all-too-predictable lack of understanding of my very particular set of skills," she concludes, setting to work with manic enthusiasm on solving the ribbon problem with Science.

Spoiler: Show
In proper lock-opening sequence, Ren inspects before getting to work! 26 Perception is barely better than her passive, but 14 Thievery is terrible. Fortunately she still has that class boon: 17 is only slightly better, though. Looks like she'll have to hope for some more time unless her plan to skip the lock with alchemy and Science makes up the difference.


Kyri looks up from her horsey shyly. She starts to stand and make a curtsy, as her mother told her to do on meeting elves, but she belatedly remembers that she’s trapping Emily and instead rises only to her knees before flopping back down again. “I’ve got a tiny horsey,” she offers. “Wanna make ‘em fight?”
While Renaya bobbles in her harness and tries not to drop anything, her brother beams. "Sure!" he replies, his eyes literally sparkling. "Here, watch; this is the neat part," he adds, setting down the wooden puppet in the ring defined by Kyri's arms. It bobbles its way to its feet, looming over the battlefield at two feet tall. Its featureless head turns around in an owl-like manner, until its "face" fixes on Emily and her ponicorn; when it spots her, it holds its arms out in front of it and shambles forward with a wobbling gait defined by its exaggerated joints. As it moves, tiny internal strings play musical notes, creating a song appropriate for a lumbering oaf of a villain from the serials; a perfect opposing accompaniment to the brighter songs of its opponent's hoof beats.
 

OldKentuckyShark

Doritos from Japan
Validated User
Nicodemus lifts the blade up, and looks at it carefully.
...Well it'll have to do.

Then Moira speaks, and he looks at her, unable to stop himself from forming a small smile at her comments.
"Mm."


Nicodemus blinks at that, but nods and grabs the arrow, sending as much power as can safely be put through it.
Turns out, the arrowhead, as the holy symbol of the Silver Flame, is an ideal conduit for Theurgic power.

Silver fires seem to appear around it, before they sink down into the metal - and then another fire appears, and does the same.
Again and again, the power of the Silver Flame is focused down into the tiny piece of metal, as it grows brighter and brighter by the moment, yet oddly this is different from how Nicodemus usually glows.
This is firmly controlled, held in check.

Spoiler: Show

29 to help out with whatever the idea is - I've got a hunch what it might be, but best not to assume anything


When it's finally done, he looks at it, and nods, satisfied - this is about as much as it should be able to take.
the arrow glows brightly with silver light, although it begins to fade as soon as it leaves the safe confines of Nicodemus's hands.

"great!" moira says. She gives Nicodemus a quick peck on the cheek before jumping up, grabbing the bottom of one of the lightning carriage's topside hatches, and levering herself up into the open sky. Snowflakes fall into the cabin as she sticks her top half through, out onto the roof.

There's a twang, following by a dimming of the light as the arrow climbs away into the sky. With a smooth motion Moira draws another arrow from the quiver at her hip, draws, and shoots. Lightning trails this arrow as she fires it intot he ky; it strikes the glowing arrow dead on.

There's an explosion, and a bright silver light fills the sky like a flare.

"Quick!" Moira shouts down. "Now it can't hide outside. Find it and trap it!"



ir'Tarn Residence, Long Shadows, Sharn:


Alishia continued to meet the changeling's accusatory gaze for a moment before finally relenting. "Yeah all right, fair enough," she said, rubbing the back of her head. "Not that I'm agreeing with last bit, but okay. Look, I'm sorry about all this but, y'know, I really did think you were Riedran here. And seriously, keep it down will ya'?"
'I can't control the tone or demeanor of my voice," she shouts. "Side effect!"


They were nearly there. Alishia felt her shawl get yanked off her shoulders, caught in the brambles as she tackled Rei clear past them, thorns scratching at her arms and face as they emerged on the other side. She scrambled to her feet just slowly enough to give the unfortunate assassin a head start...the window was in sight...just a little bit further...

...and then Drago, moving faster than anyone his size had any right do, was driving her down to the ground with one massive arm, followed up by an elbow that she knew meant that Rei wasn't going anywhere soon.

They were nearly there. She could have screamed. "Stupid Kells, stupid Quori, stupid Drago, stupid spiders, stupid stupid stupid..." All she had wanted to do was help, that was all she'd wanted to do...keeping people from making a deal with nightmare monsters from beyond, was that really so bad? But no, everything had to be complicated, everybody had to keep helping.

Her mind hadn't stopped racing since this entire fiasco had begun and so when Rei hit the ground she sprang into action as quickly as she could, dropping down behind the changeling and grabbing her in a choke hold just as Master Ryven has taught her. "Sorry," she murmured into the Kell's ear, "plan B." Conscious, and consequently truthful, the would-be infiltrator was a danger to both their plans...her unconsciousness bought them a little more time to figure something else out that would doubtlessly cause even more problems than it solved.

Sometimes trying to do the right thing sucked.

"Everybody get back!," she shouted as she blocked off the flow of blood to the changeling's brain. "Stay back! She's got some sort of mind magic, as long as she's conscious she's dangerous!" While that was going on she frantically thought towards Sandovish. "Sand, listen to me, we have got to get her out of here or everything's blown...who she really is, why she's really here, probably the fact that I told her to stab me, and Riedra walks away clean. If you really want to hurt them and keep her safe then you have to help me sell this. So right now she's Riedran, she's too dangerous to keep or question here, and we need to get her somewhere else, preferably somewhere we can figure out a way to wrap this all up so nobody gets hurt. And for Gods' sake tell Ella this time, we need all the help we can get."
Sand looks shocked. This is followed, several moments later, by Ella looking shocked.

"Dear," Lady Alera says carefully, rising to her feet and brushing off the last few spiders. "I agree that she's dangerous, but I hardly think manhandling her will make you any safer. just put her down and we can signal the authorities. I'm sure Cormac and I are more than a match for the thing. This isn't our first assassin, you know."


"Ah, lovely," Renaya says quietly (and only a little sarcastically) as she slips a rope around her shoulders into a crude in-place work harness and ties herself to the ribbon to free up her hands. "This rather neatly absolves me of any misplaced charges of unfairness that might have resulted from my choice of rules. Although it does mean that I have one less option for my escape, as it would be difficult to co-opt this material into a parachute on the way down."

She inspects the lock with professional thoroughness. "Surprising that he managed to get her to sit still long enough to get this on her," she says thoughtfully. "Especially given the little surprise nested in the lock there; that could have been troublesome if it had been triggered by overactive squirming. I would not have wanted to be in a room with her mother after accidentally turning the child into a butterfly. Still," she adds, reaching into her sleeves and withdrawing a set of vials of strangely colored liquid and tools of various descriptions, "thinking that metal wire provides any substantially better bar to simply cutting the ribbon demonstrates an all-too-predictable lack of understanding of my very particular set of skills," she concludes, setting to work with manic enthusiasm on solving the ribbon problem with Science.

Spoiler: Show
In proper lock-opening sequence, Ren inspects before getting to work! 26 Perception is barely better than her passive, but 14 Thievery is terrible. Fortunately she still has that class boon: 17 is only slightly better, though. Looks like she'll have to hope for some more time unless her plan to skip the lock with alchemy and Science makes up the difference.
Well, the good news is that you avoid any permanently disabling traps. The bad news is that the tiny rust monster microbes hidden within the lock eat away at Renaya's third best lockpick, withering it away in moments.

You think this is probably a fairy-lock anyway; while it isn't impervious to SCIENCE!, it's locking and unlocking mechanism are more likely narrative or allegorical than just metal gears. Fortunately, this probably isn't a "True love's Kiss" lock, or one of those annoying ones that requires shining refracted blue light from yesterday into the chamber, but it would be better to think outside the box.


While Renaya bobbles in her harness and tries not to drop anything, her brother beams. "Sure!" he replies, his eyes literally sparkling. "Here, watch; this is the neat part," he adds, setting down the wooden puppet in the ring defined by Kyri's arms. It bobbles its way to its feet, looming over the battlefield at two feet tall. Its featureless head turns around in an owl-like manner, until its "face" fixes on Emily and her ponicorn; when it spots her, it holds its arms out in front of it and shambles forward with a wobbling gait defined by its exaggerated joints. As it moves, tiny internal strings play musical notes, creating a song appropriate for a lumbering oaf of a villain from the serials; a perfect opposing accompaniment to the brighter songs of its opponent's hoof beats.
"Woah!" Kyri says fascinated.

Emily leaps off her ponicorn, which can only run around and around in the same circle anyway, and faces the weird musical puppet. She pulls something small and shiny out of her pocket and tosses it through the air. "Ash! Dance attack! Just like we practiced!"

Ashley leaps off the giant half-orc's arm, bouncing gently thanks to the square-cube law, and grabs the mouth out of the air. "Got it!" She puts the tiny instrument against her cheek and stands back to back against her sister. The twins strike a pose, glaring at the advancing poppet. Emily starts making beatbox noises with her mouth, and together the twins advance on the puppet, making syncopated sounds and choreographed arm motions as they go.
 
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