“Oh, you are looking for Brocklin too? How coincidental! Good, good! Going to strange places is always better with others, yes?” She says, seemingly oblivious to the rain drenching her. “I am Fianna, nice to meet ya Loose String. I never knew a sword master before.. I’m afraid I’m nothing quite as impressive. A wanderer, an observer… occasionally a dabbler in little magics,” she explains as she falls into step with Loose Strings. “Who should we knock upon first?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
"A pleasure, Miss Fianna," Loose String says with a purr and a bow. He points to the door down the path from the gate through which they just went, "Here would be the simplest start." When they reach the door, the tabaxi gestures for Fianna to knock.
Fianna smirks mischievously at the invitation to knock and bows her head a moment, but does not approach the door or raise her hand. Still, there comes a loud knock, then a flourish of musical sound effects immediately after. If they need try more than one door, each knocking is a different pattern, each song a different tune.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
The door opens almost immediately, revealing a short, bald dwarf with a large grey beard. He is wearing red silk robes and a monocle, leaning on a wooden cane. He looks up and smiles at you. "The final two. Come on in, the others are waiting," he says in a shaky, shrill voice. He turns back and starts walking briskly down the center hallway.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
"Saving the best till last, of course," Loose String gives a mischievous smile at Fianna, once again motioning for her to go ahead.
Once inside, String takes his rain poncho off in a dramatic flurry, water going everywhere, not that he was all that worried, then he throws it on the coat rack. Underneath the poncho, Fianna can now see well kept leather armour, with cuts and marks across it, though many have been stitched up and repaired. A long rapier hangs at his side with a ornate silvery guard. In his other hand that you had yet to see is a ball of string that he casually juggles and spins absent-mindedly as he moves about.
"Lead the way, good fellow," the tabaxi says to the man who answered the door, "I'm sure my new friend here and I would appreciate the warmth of a fire, and I'm sure the others are dying with curiosity as to where we've been and why we're all here."
Fianna smiles at the Tabaxi’s comment and then bow her head and move forward on his signal. As she does she whispers a quick phrase and waves her hand and her clothes simply become dry via prestidigitation “See, I told you it wouldn’t matter I lost the invitation,” she whispers over her shoulder to seemingly nobody and puts a little “I told you so!” into her step.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
You are led through a large hallway by the dwarf. On the walls, there are large paintings of dwarves and humans, some of them bearing vague resemblance to your guide. Occasionally, you can see displays of curious objects and ancient looking weapons in other rooms. After a few turns, you come to a heavy door. The dwarf pulls a key from around his neck, and unlocks the door. He walks inside and stands in front of the fireplace. "Well, we have everyone here. Shall we begin?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
Loose String nods a greeting to the others in the room as he enters. He continues to casually juggle the ball of string as he leans against a wall and responds, "That would be appreciated, good sir. I'm sure we're all very curious as to what you brought us here for." He gives a small sweeping gesture to indicate the others in the room before continuing, "And curiosity killed the cat." He gives a sudden concerned look, then chuckles.
The large man of metal and wood speaks up at this point. "Curiosity is not a known fatal malady. Why would the cat die? Are you thinking of a specific cat?"
Loose String gives the man of wood and metal a strange look, then smiles, "I've seen several here already. Have you not? It could be any one of them. Best mind your step in case they come a sniffing at you. They might think you a scratching post to sharpen their claws, most peculiar one."
“The invitation clearly said to meet here at midnight, didn’t it?” Fianna asks, but nobody in particular as she seems to be looking over her shoulder at… the wall, perhaps?
“Yes, midnight! It said there would be much discussion and an expedition! That the handsome would be rewarded quite arduously, if I recall correctly….” She said as she starts digging through her bag. “QuinnLynn assured me it all sounded quite festive and fun! The invitation should be in here somewhere so you can see for yourself…” No invitation is pulled out of he pack but various and sundry other random odds and ends are produced: The skull of some small animal , a small bottle of yellow liquid that turns green when disturbed, a half dozen sheets of paper with scribbled sketches and notes and doodles of all kinds, a dirty bandage, three twigs of equal length but from different varieties of tree, and a speckled egg…
“We’ll, ok, I lost the invitation but QuinnLynn definitely said it would be fun!” Fianna insists, sitting on the floor surrounded with the brac-a-brak of her bag… She sulks for a moment before quickly brightening and picking up an item. “Anyone want an egg?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
“Oh! Oh… Oh?” Fianna, forgetting the debris all around her, thinks on this for a minute. “Heyyyyyy! you’re talking about an adventuring party!! You’re being all tricksy!!”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
"Perfect!" Fianna calls out, jumps up, and launches herself at the other girl trying to give her a great big hug. "I am Fianna, you are?"
"Doesn't matter, we'll be the best of friends! Adventuring buddies!! We'll guard each others backs, make S'mores together, share a tent! It'll be the bestest ever!!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
“Oh, you are looking for Brocklin too? How coincidental! Good, good! Going to strange places is always better with others, yes?” She says, seemingly oblivious to the rain drenching her.
“I am Fianna, nice to meet ya Loose String. I never knew a sword master before.. I’m afraid I’m nothing quite as impressive. A wanderer, an observer… occasionally a dabbler in little magics,” she explains as she falls into step with Loose Strings. “Who should we knock upon first?”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"A pleasure, Miss Fianna," Loose String says with a purr and a bow. He points to the door down the path from the gate through which they just went, "Here would be the simplest start." When they reach the door, the tabaxi gestures for Fianna to knock.
Fianna smirks mischievously at the invitation to knock and bows her head a moment, but does not approach the door or raise her hand. Still, there comes a loud knock, then a flourish of musical sound effects immediately after. If they need try more than one door, each knocking is a different pattern, each song a different tune.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
The door opens almost immediately, revealing a short, bald dwarf with a large grey beard. He is wearing red silk robes and a monocle, leaning on a wooden cane. He looks up and smiles at you. "The final two. Come on in, the others are waiting," he says in a shaky, shrill voice. He turns back and starts walking briskly down the center hallway.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
- Litany Against Fear, Frank Herbert
"Saving the best till last, of course," Loose String gives a mischievous smile at Fianna, once again motioning for her to go ahead.
Once inside, String takes his rain poncho off in a dramatic flurry, water going everywhere, not that he was all that worried, then he throws it on the coat rack. Underneath the poncho, Fianna can now see well kept leather armour, with cuts and marks across it, though many have been stitched up and repaired. A long rapier hangs at his side with a ornate silvery guard. In his other hand that you had yet to see is a ball of string that he casually juggles and spins absent-mindedly as he moves about.
"Lead the way, good fellow," the tabaxi says to the man who answered the door, "I'm sure my new friend here and I would appreciate the warmth of a fire, and I'm sure the others are dying with curiosity as to where we've been and why we're all here."
Fianna smiles at the Tabaxi’s comment and then bow her head and move forward on his signal. As she does she whispers a quick phrase and waves her hand and her clothes simply become dry via prestidigitation
“See, I told you it wouldn’t matter I lost the invitation,” she whispers over her shoulder to seemingly nobody and puts a little “I told you so!” into her step.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
You are led through a large hallway by the dwarf. On the walls, there are large paintings of dwarves and humans, some of them bearing vague resemblance to your guide. Occasionally, you can see displays of curious objects and ancient looking weapons in other rooms. After a few turns, you come to a heavy door. The dwarf pulls a key from around his neck, and unlocks the door. He walks inside and stands in front of the fireplace. "Well, we have everyone here. Shall we begin?"
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
- Litany Against Fear, Frank Herbert
Jasmine stands. “Does beginning involve you telling us what’s going on here? Because if so, then let’s do it.”
Loose String nods a greeting to the others in the room as he enters. He continues to casually juggle the ball of string as he leans against a wall and responds, "That would be appreciated, good sir. I'm sure we're all very curious as to what you brought us here for." He gives a small sweeping gesture to indicate the others in the room before continuing, "And curiosity killed the cat." He gives a sudden concerned look, then chuckles.
The large man of metal and wood speaks up at this point. "Curiosity is not a known fatal malady. Why would the cat die? Are you thinking of a specific cat?"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Loose String gives the man of wood and metal a strange look, then smiles, "I've seen several here already. Have you not? It could be any one of them. Best mind your step in case they come a sniffing at you. They might think you a scratching post to sharpen their claws, most peculiar one."
"I have not, but I will be wary. Thank you for the advice." Green returns his attention to the dwarf, and waits.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
“Are there no snacks? No drinks?” Fianna asks, confused. “What kind of party doesn’t have snacks??”
“Oh! I’m Fianna, by the by. And that’s Loose String… How yas doin?? We just met outside but he’s super nice and helpful!”
Fianna slowly turns in a spin, looking over the room. “Not really much on party decorations, are they?”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Jasmine crosses her arms. "This isn't a party."
“But… wait… what??” Gianna sputters.
“The invitation clearly said to meet here at midnight, didn’t it?” Fianna asks, but nobody in particular as she seems to be looking over her shoulder at… the wall, perhaps?
“Yes, midnight! It said there would be much discussion and an expedition! That the handsome would be rewarded quite arduously, if I recall correctly….” She said as she starts digging through her bag. “QuinnLynn assured me it all sounded quite festive and fun! The invitation should be in here somewhere so you can see for yourself…” No invitation is pulled out of he pack but various and sundry other random odds and ends are produced: The skull of some small animal , a small bottle of yellow liquid that turns green when disturbed, a half dozen sheets of paper with scribbled sketches and notes and doodles of all kinds, a dirty bandage, three twigs of equal length but from different varieties of tree, and a speckled egg…
“We’ll, ok, I lost the invitation but QuinnLynn definitely said it would be fun!” Fianna insists, sitting on the floor surrounded with the brac-a-brak of her bag… She sulks for a moment before quickly brightening and picking up an item. “Anyone want an egg?”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"We're going on an expedition. A dangerous expedition. We're not partying, and it won't be fun."
“Oh! Oh… Oh?” Fianna, forgetting the debris all around her, thinks on this for a minute. “Heyyyyyy! you’re talking about an adventuring party!! You’re being all tricksy!!”
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"I mean--yes, that is indeed the sort of party that's happening."
"Perfect!" Fianna calls out, jumps up, and launches herself at the other girl trying to give her a great big hug. "I am Fianna, you are?"
"Doesn't matter, we'll be the best of friends! Adventuring buddies!! We'll guard each others backs, make S'mores together, share a tent! It'll be the bestest ever!!"
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
"Ready when you are." Ameh says with a nod to the dwarf. "Want to fill us in?"