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Okay, uh, performance for my character... and animal handling.
Edited by AutisticAlivia on May 13th 2020 at 8:03:22 AM
> Accept the quest and call for my familiar
>I would head up to the barbarian. "Excuse me but I heard you were offering to pay 50 gold for anyone willing to help hunt down this nightwalker, and I am very willing."
WillyFourEyes, you have the following abilities:
You start out with this equipment:
AutisticAlivia, you have the following abilities:
You rolled a: 1 (CRIT FAIL)
You notice that they are sapient.
Conveniently, you happen to walk up to the table while the barbarian is in the middle of briefing Grom, so you get the gist of your mission so far. He notices before long and pauses when you declare your intent to join their quest.
"Good to have you onboard. I'm Rahgot, of the Kipnaak clan, and this is Lucia. Our warlock. I think you'll get along."
The infernal who'd cut in earlier grins at you. "A pleasure."
"The quiet lad over there is Kou Shuujin, monk. He might not bother to argue much, but he's an ass once you get to know hi—"
"I heard that," comes the voice. Following it would lead you to a robed human sitting across the table, glaring you down from behind choppy brown bangs. "Don't scare the new hires away, would you?"
Seeing you approach as well, the barbarian looks like he's about to start a summary of the explanation he just gave—and then stops dead when he hears you mention your revelation about the Nightwalker. Oh, and we can't forget the theory about how it'll save the world. Yes, spread the wisdom, so everyone will achieve enlightenment.
When he finally reacts, it's almost comical to see a hulking 6-foot red dragonborn staring so utterly slack-jawed like that.
"...Quoi? Come...come again?"
You rolled a: 5 + 1 Skill bonus = 6
You try to recall if there was anything matching what Rahgot described in your history tomes, but you're coming up dry. There was that old spiel about Nightshades you saw in a compendium once, which are quite similar, but they've never actually made an appearance in history—so it was dismissed by most historians in favour of recording more common Shadow creatures.
Still...even according to that story, they're not supposed to be able to enter this plane in the first place. They're absolutely not.
Unless someone baits them with lifeforce first.
(As for the mummy's suggestion, you know about unicorns, obviously, but you've never heard of a robot deity one before. It's intriguing.)
You rolled a: 4
Slowly, you turn around.
Your eyes fall on a black void of emptiness in the otherwise normal sky. Looking closer, you see features emerge from the shadow, lighter patches of grey chiselling out a rough approximation of a face. It's a long, meaty skull with large horns, maybe belonging to cattle or a coyote or a mixture of both. Two blue specks stare out at you from behind gaunt cheekbones.
You stretch out to touch it, hand splayed in a petting motion.
But it reaches its finger for you first.
Roll for Damage: 3 Roll for Necrotic Damage: 6 Your roll to Defend: 5 (FAIL) Total Damage: 9
Well that worked out just dandy, didn't it? You let out a bloodcurdling cry of pain and immediately fall backwards from the railing, landing on the roof with a hard crack. As the breath is forced out of your lungs with a violent rush of air, in spite of your agony, you discover that the muscles in your body now refuse to move.
1/10 HP remaining.
You are paralysed for one turn.
You rolled a: 2
For a little while you ask around, but nobody seems willing to pay up just for a flower, even if it is a pretty blossom. Especially the socialites. The raucous drunkards are too absorbed to notice your pitch in the first place.
You're about to concede defeat and trudge out when the door to the tavern abruptly opens again and a young man sails in. He spots you almost immediately and comes over, the good-natured smile already on his face growing into a grin at that.
"Oh, hey, flowers! I'll take one!"
He's bright-eyed and has the countenance of a high elf, although you've never seen one with such intensely black locks. You'd always imagined them as fair-haired, personally. But he's gone before you can say a word about it, whisking past into the tavern nearly as fast as he arrived, leaving you to stand there with a silver piece pressed into your palm where the flower once was.
1 silver added to your inventory.
You see a flower girl trying to make some coin around the entrance, so you get out of your seat and head over. Might as well help out. It's not like you have anything better to do.
But just as you're nearing her, some elf runs past you both—taking his high-speed purchase with him. You watch him rush away in stunned silence. What looks like a fancy violin bag disappears into the crowd at the same time the turned back carrying it does.
You two didn't say anything, but a quick sideways glance at each other did: who the hell was that supposed to be?
You walk over to the table, and Rahgot has to take a moment to stop blue-screening at the mummy's words before he addresses you. He's still faltering as he repeats the introductions, until the wizard summons a familiar to help out. The barbarian looks altogether too happy to have something to change the subject to.
"Ah, a wizard, and a cleric, I presume? We'll be glad to—"
You're interrupted by what sounds like a scream from the rooftop.
Edited by unfortunatezorua on May 13th 2020 at 11:05:55 PM
> I explain my theory about Nightshades to the party — only to be cut short by the scream.
> Muttering a small prayer to Denas, I make my way to the roof, discreetly summoning a truncheon along the way.
@Zorua: By "magic weapon", does that mean I get to pick what kind of enchantments my bound weapons have?
I meant that you summon the weapon with magic, so it's already made out of that instead of being a regular sword/baton/mace etc.
> My familiar turns out to be human. I have him follow me outside to see what's happening.
> Check what's on the rooftop
>The scream from the rooftop is concerning, but right now I'm more intrigued by the black-haired elf. Try and see if I can follow him through the commotion.
>If I can't, just head upstairs to see what the fuss is all about
Edited by Afterwards on May 13th 2020 at 12:37:19 PM
"Probably just another drunk getting his sorrows poured out of him but just incase it isn't I'm going upstairs. Feel free to join me if you wish." I would announce as i Brandished my shield and started to make my way up to the roof defensively and hopefully ready for whatever shit is about to be thrown at me.
>Get to the rooftop as fast as I can.
>Put the silver piece in my bag's small money pocket.
>Stand closer to the door and look at what the dark-haired elf is doing inside.
>Then go check what is happening up in the roof.
> Check out the place
>Follow the scream
>Ask someone else
>With so many people heading toward the roof, the strange elf piques my curiosity more. I stay behind and ask around, starting with the innkeeper. Violin bags are common containers for smuggling...especially when it comes to hidden weapons.
You all get up at the sound in a split second and hurry to the roof, earning potent death glares from the socialites you shove aside, and by the time you get to the top of the stairs you've practically gathered a small army—so you bash open the door leading to the rooftop and see...
Well, that's not entirely true. The quickest of you are fast enough to see a wisp of shadow disappearing over the skyline, blue pinpricks fading into nothingness, but mostly you just find two people lying prone on the ground.
Kou the monk is one of said quickest people, and he turns to mutter something to Rahgot, who'd heard Grom's theory earlier and immediately takes on a grim expression.
The rogue in particular is injured and near-death. And apparently paralysed, judging from that awkward frozen position. A distance away is some guy flat on his face, who on the other hand, has turned an ashen shade and isn't breathing at all any more.
You could probably deal with the shadow you just saw later, but this seems pretty urgent.
I'm not sure what you mean by this.
With almost the entire table gone, the rest of you are pretty much free to search around as you like. You walk up to the vacated bar first and try to get some information out of the tavernkeep.
When you ask your question, he ends up staring at you completely blankly.
"Huh? What elf?"
"The dark-haired one," you persist. "With the violin case. He got here just now."
You can practically see the gears clicking in his mind in confusion (ironically, since he's a warforged), although he does realise who you're talking about after a good minute.
"Ohhh. Probably just one of our performers. The new guy, based off what you described," he grunts. "What was it, 'Mago Gosora'...? Anyway."
You rolled a: 3
You back up a little, standing on your toes to try and see what the elf is doing over the crowd—for a moment you think you've lost him, though you eventually spot him talking to the stage attendant near the back of the tavern.
Unfortunately, you can't hear anything from where you are, but judging from his sheepish gestures it seems like he's apologising for something.
You suppose that him running late would explain why he was in such a rush. Satisfied with this answer, you head for the rooftop after the others.
You rolled a: 5
You weave through the crowd, expertly tracking the elf's movement in spite of all the twists and turns he takes. After much elbowing and detouring, you find yourself at the back of the tavern, met with a similar scene as Floor.
Turns out you didn't really have to go through all that trouble, though, since he appears onstage moments afterwards.
"Welcoming the bard Mago Gosora!"
The intoxicated audience starts cheering deliriously. He's smiling as he skips across the stage again; you can't exactly put a word to it, but there's just something about the way he's looking across them that unsettles you.
Then you notice that the instrument he's carrying isn't a violin, but a lute. Interesting.
''Hey, hey! How's everyone doing tonight?"—and the taverngoers respond with another uproar. This goes on for a little while, him tuning his instrument and playing along cheerily to a few requests, and as time passes you almost conclude it's going to be a normal performance. But something in your instincts compels you to stay.
And you wouldn't be wrong for it.
"It really is amazing to be performing here for all of you," he's saying now, all too happily. "As thanks, I'm going to let you guys hear an original song! Just a little spin on an old classic, so what do you say, huh?"
The audience responds in kind. He gets things underway, and as the first few notes fall into place, begins his tale:
A shadow running cold, down the darkened path Stolen away, without a trace, a child's laugh This town in such despair, how could it be saved? Little did they know the heroes would deliver that day.
There they arrived tenfold, to liberate their pain Finding the scoured and darkened souls, but alas, it was too late The one that walked the Night had seized those once beloved And to simply vanquish this beast would not be enough
Thus they set valiantly in uncovering the truth What lay behind it all, from within destroying these walls, was yet still to be proved Towards the steadfast solitude, dawning reach, and lands that shone In search of the light that the creatures foretold
On this very same night, these heroes embark Hearken to the call, and be blinded not Yet fallen in the spire, one must pay the true cost Unbeknownst to the world, weeping for all that was lost.
The crowd loves it; somehow managing to cheer and clap even louder than they had for your performance. But in the midst of everything, you're suddenly feeling very, very cold.
He's not supposed to know that.
He's not supposed to know any of that.
>Go to the roof.
> Pay someone to heal me (or if no one can, pay someone to kill me)
Edited by Baisteach on May 14th 2020 at 10:06:05 AM
>Start a fight
> Rest for the night for now
>Whack Abarron back to health
>Adjust my cape, then see if I have any pieces of cloth to bandage the rogue.
>Attempt to heal the rogue, or at least get them to a safer place.
>I recognize the lyrics Mago is singing...because I wrote them.
Bracing myself for a fight, I move my right hand toward my fancy sword and, without any definitive proof, accuse the performer of plagiarism.
> Take the quest
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