Gotu takes this time to ritual cast Comprehend Languages to understand what Molly is saying, and then he quickly goes after her to bring her to the tavern.
"I swear the others really need to stop making me deal with this."
As always, he got to be Molly's caretaker again.
As the twilight tendrils of evening gather in the crevices of the streets the Rhinemaiden's eyes aglow with the fire of a fractured mind, watches the interplay between the guild members with a disquieting intensity. Her grip on the ghastly doll, Drusilla, tightens as Gotu approaches her, the spell of understanding begins to weave its silken threads through the air between them.
Under the eerie glow of a moon creeping its way into the darkening sky, Molly clutches her grotesque doll, Drusilla, with an unsettling fervor her eyes flicker with a wild, disturbing gleam.
"Ach, Gotu, mein alter Freund, so schön dich wieder zu sehen," Molly coos, her voice laced with a sinister sweetness. "Remember the games, die wir gespielt haben? The screams, das Echo im Dunkel?" Her fingers tighten around Drusilla, pushing the doll ominously towards Gotu's face. "Kiss her, mein tapferer Held. Show her deine Liebe, before we dance into the Nacht."
Her laughter, a disjointed symphony of malice and mirth, spirals around them like a cold breeze her tone a macabre lilt that dances on the edge of sanity.
--------------------
**Comprehend Languages Translation: **
"again you see to good so, friend old my, Gotu, Ach. played we games the Remember? dark the in echo the, screams The? hero brave my, her Kiss. night the into dance we before love your her Show. breeze cold a like them around spirals mirth and malice of symphony disjointed a, laughter Her. lips your of warmth the feels Drusilla that until not yet, not leave cannot We. Drusilla sweet for kiss tiny a just, she insists, sanity of edge the on dances that lilt macabre a."
--------------------
Molly's peculiar insistence that Gotu pay homage to her doll as requested boarders upon obession... Paying homage will guarantee the Rhinemaiden's cooperation...
Gotu takes this time to ritual cast Comprehend Languages to understand what Molly is saying, and then he quickly goes after her to bring her to the tavern.
"I swear the others really need to stop making me deal with this."
As always, he got to be Molly's caretaker again.
As the twilight tendrils of evening gather in the crevices of the streets the Rhinemaiden's eyes aglow with the fire of a fractured mind, watches the interplay between the guild members with a disquieting intensity. Her grip on the ghastly doll, Drusilla, tightens as Gotu approaches her, the spell of understanding begins to weave its silken threads through the air between them.
Under the eerie glow of a moon creeping its way into the darkening sky, Molly clutches her grotesque doll, Drusilla, with an unsettling fervor her eyes flicker with a wild, disturbing gleam.
"Ach, Gotu, mein alter Freund, so schön dich wieder zu sehen," Molly coos, her voice laced with a sinister sweetness. "Remember the games, die wir gespielt haben? The screams, das Echo im Dunkel?" Her fingers tighten around Drusilla, pushing the doll ominously towards Gotu's face. "Kiss her, mein tapferer Held. Show her deine Liebe, before we dance into the Nacht."
Her laughter, a disjointed symphony of malice and mirth, spirals around them like a cold breeze her tone a macabre lilt that dances on the edge of sanity.
--------------------
**Comprehend Languages Translation: **
"again you see to good so, friend old my, Gotu, Ach. played we games the Remember? dark the in echo the, screams The? hero brave my, her Kiss. night the into dance we before love your her Show. breeze cold a like them around spirals mirth and malice of symphony disjointed a, laughter Her. lips your of warmth the feels Drusilla that until not yet, not leave cannot We. Drusilla sweet for kiss tiny a just, she insists, sanity of edge the on dances that lilt macabre a."
--------------------
Molly's peculiar insistence that Gotu pay homage to her doll as requested boarders upon obession... Paying homage will guarantee the Rhinemaiden's cooperation...
Gotu groaned once more, whistling. He could have studied further into the arcane art to finally learn the [Tooltip Not Found]. Instead, he got to deal with this too often and realized that he got tricked into being the one to deal with Molly compared to others.
Instead, he just cast Mending on the doll to fix any tears recently made, but not to the point it's fully fixed. The last time he did, Molly threw a fit. So, just enough repair to prevent it from falling apart, and of course, he follows up with Prestidigitation to make the doll dirtier than it already is.
"Alright, come on. And no, I'm not kissing Drusilla. We have someone else kiss it like the other time. You can even ensure the person kisses Drusilla as much as you want. We talked about this before. Come on, I don't feel like dealing with the other, drinking everything away while the guild is going to be in complete chaos, now with the boss dead." He leads Molly to the tavern. However, before he moves further, he looks over at Asbestos. "Come on, Asbestos. Time is wasting away." Then, he resumes walking towards the tavern with Molly after letting her hold his long sleeve; better the sleeve than his hand after what happened the last time he let her held his hand.
Fyn takes in a deep breath before walking up and kneeling next to Steelclaw. Without a word, Fyn grabs a few coins out of his pouch and tosses them in to replace the pieces stolen by Molly. He remains silent for a while, drinking in the moment, before eventually speaking up. "The others are planning to hit a tavern. Drink and steal in his honor. I..." Fyn hesitates for a moment, contemplating his words before continuing. "I know we haven't gotten along the best in the past, but Biscotti was like a father to the both of us. And we both see this guild as a family. Even if only for one night, let's set aside our differences to respect the man who brought us together in the first place."
Fist stands by the touchin' heart to heart, pickin' food from his teeth and watchin' Gotu play sitter. If he can get the wizard boy on his lap later, he may be able to parse an outfit size in secret, mayhaps git the lil' sourpuss a new robe. 'Or maybe git 'im drunk enough to loos'n up a lil'. The man's puckered tighter than the drawstrings on a noble's coin purse. Maybe findin' 'im a wench'd work. Always looses me up,' he thinks.
'...well, lest he's sly. Eh. 'Could always find a barboy for 'im, instead.'
A redheaded woman comes to mourn, you've all seen her around Biscotti's office. Some of you think she's an accountant. Others know she found the identity of "The Ripper" a few years back and saved who knows how many "Ladies" who worked for the organization (Why, Mr. Fist himself may have had the pleasure of stopping that guy). Everyone calls her "Lace" because she likes to wear lacy outfits. But If you call her "Lacy" instead of "Lace", she ignores you as if you weren't there. You'll also get a raised eyebrow if you call her an elf, and an eyeroll if you call her a hobbit. She may be 5 ft even, but she's human.
This time she wears a veil of black lace in additon to her usual lace trim. She carries a colorful bouquet that includes many white roses, and places a single black orchid on the grave. She pauses for a moment of silence over the grave, then goes to each of you and hands you a white rose, and one other flower, and explains: "The black orchid is for the dead. But funerals are to comfort the living. In the symbols of flowers, a white rose is for new beginnings. And this flower* (hands it to you) symbolizes a trait that Biscotti admired in you".
"I'm a very curious girl and, to paraphrase a famous person "I drink moderately and find out things", kind of a motto for investigators. Which is how I know that THIS ;place (names establishment) has 100 yr old Scotch and 100 gp per bottle wine. That Biscottie ordered under a competitor's name, so they're on the hook if it's stolen. Just saying."
(OOC apologies for the delay, I bit off more than I could chew. I was enthusiastic about the Victorian setting & got appropriate art and looked up Victorian flower symbolism. But had to work, and am too tired to do more tonight. Please pick a flower from the Victorian Flower Symbolism link if you like)
Next to the grave stands a tall human, wearing leather armor and as always a lot of tools at his waist. He is looking at what is happening at the graveyard. He said his words during the ceremony as one of Biscotti's right hands. To give others the privacy to say their own good byes he gives a final look to the grave
"Good bye my leader, good bye friend. We had good times, you made sure of that and you will be missed"With a look around the cemetery. "Now we will have to see what is going to happen with the guild, who will step up to lead? And how will they lead? Ah, those are worries for tomorrow now we will honor your memory."
After these words he walks away from the grave, listening to what the others are planning. Hearing about Fist's plans he follows along, not sure if it is to good of an idea to do all of that this evening while in mourning. But being sure that it will happen with or without him and the guild is his life so it will be with him for sure.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war |Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
"Alright, come on. And no, I'm not kissing Drusilla. We have someone else kiss it like the other time. You can even ensure the person kisses Drusilla as much as you want. We talked about this before. Come on, I don't feel like dealing with the other, drinking everything away while the guild is going to be in complete chaos, now with the boss dead." He leads Molly to the tavern. However, before he moves further, he looks over at Asbestos. "Come on, Asbestos. Time is wasting away." Then, he resumes walking towards the tavern with Molly after letting her hold his long sleeve; better the sleeve than his hand after what happened the last time he let her held his hand.
Under the mournful cloak of nightfall, Molly, her whimsical heart pierced by Gotu's rejection, pouts extravagantly. Her lips curl into an expression so dramatic it could rival the grief of a thousand heartbroken maidens. Despite her disappointment, the Rhinemaiden's nature proves ever unpredictable and capricious; she takes Gotu's arm with a feigned resilience, pressing herself close to him in a manner both flirtatious and unsettling.
As they stride towards the tavern, the echoes of their footsteps a soft drumbeat against the cobblestones, Mad Molly leans in closer, her nose brushing against the nape of Gotu's neck. Her breath, tainted with the scent of the night and something darker, whispers across his skin. "Vergiss das Kissing meiner doll, you smell so tempting, mein Liebchen," she murmurs, her voice a sinister blend of plea and promise. "Just ein little taste, bitte, please."
Her words, laced with an eerie allure, hang between them—a tempting dance of shadows and desire. Molly’s proximity blurs the lines of jest and earnest, her demeanor an intricate tapestry of madness woven tightly with threads of dark fascination.
As they near the tavern, the dim light flickering from within promises a night of revelry or oblivion. Molly's grip on Gotu’s sleeve tightens slightly, her fingers a ghostly caress against the fabric. Her eyes, glowing with a mix of mirth and madness... and something else yet unspoken, reflect the flickering torchlights, casting her face in a gothic tableau of haunting beauty and lurking madness.
"Alright, come on. And no, I'm not kissing Drusilla. We have someone else kiss it like the other time. You can even ensure the person kisses Drusilla as much as you want. We talked about this before. Come on, I don't feel like dealing with the other, drinking everything away while the guild is going to be in complete chaos, now with the boss dead." He leads Molly to the tavern. However, before he moves further, he looks over at Asbestos. "Come on, Asbestos. Time is wasting away." Then, he resumes walking towards the tavern with Molly after letting her hold his long sleeve; better the sleeve than his hand after what happened the last time he let her held his hand.
"The black orchid is for the dead. But funerals are to comfort the living. In the symbols of flowers, a white rose is for new beginnings. And this flower* (hands it to you) symbolizes a trait that Biscotti admired in you".
((I picked Daisy for the flower! heheh the great gatsby vibes))
"Ohhhh~ Thank you! A white rose." Asbestos, while waiting for a direction, took the flowers from Lace in childlike wonder. "Oh! Ah a daisy too, how sweet!" He stuck the two flowers into his hair, but when they fell off due to his dwarf persona's short brown hair, he instead picked them up and put one each behind his ears. The meaning of flowers was something he should have probably known as a druid, to which he did but only a passing knowledge of. The white rose, well she already gave an explanation of, and the daisy... it meant something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn't quite recall. It conjured up a mental image of 'sunshine and carefree' (how does one imagine carefree to be like?) where soon enough the yellow innards of the daisy bore down intensely like the sticky hot summer sun, searing a sunburn onto his mental consciousness as the thought burned away like paper to a candle.
When the changeling heard his name being called, his ears perked up. "Yes! Coming~"He began to jog in place, giving the others who haven't yet followed a 'come with us' wave before running over to where Gotu and Molly were walking. He followed along with them towards the tavern, absentmindedly humming a tune. He was intrigued with the connection Molly had with the doll. Mostly on the peripheral of jobs in the guild, he didn't really see her that much at the gatherings. Not that he really paid attention at many of their meetings. He probably should have, to be honest. With their leader gone, now he didn't know what was going to happen! And wasn't that fun~ When things were not planned, it was left to pure whimsy! A fun fact that he cherished in his heart.
Now, Asbestos was at least glad to have Gotu there, for some reason he was usually paired with him. As he skipped along with them, he tilted his head in fascination at Molly's request for a 'bite.' The ever more closer she got to the wizard, the more into a weird uncomfortable territory it got for the druid. He just couldn't tell what was happening. He lifted his index finger in a question, "I could, um, kiss the doll if you'd like! Yes?" He had caught wind of that hard 'no' from Gotu earlier and he thought that maybe this was in retaliation for that denial. He looked at Gotu with concern and then at Molly with curious eyes and a smile.
Stellclaw stays silent as the woman takes the money from the grave, clenching his teeth a little to hold back from saying anything. When she walks away towards the tavern with the others he will toss two more coins in. As Fyn kneels and speaks the tabaxi just nods at his words "I'm good with that. Let's go get a drink." He then turns himself and follows the rest of the guild to the tavern for drinks in the former leaders honor.
Stellclaw stays silent as the woman takes the money from the grave, clenching his teeth a little to hold back from saying anything. When she walks away towards the tavern with the others he will toss two more coins in. He then turns himself and follows the rest of the guild to the tavern for drinks in the former leaders honor.
The brute throws back 'is head and laughs, a harsh beltin' g'ffaw. "Hah! Hahahahaaa! Ah, and the world spins yet again. Good on you, Furball. Ach, but we've drinkin' to do!" Giving Fyn no quarter to react, he puts the lad o'r his shoulder once more, grabbing the cat underarm with his o'er hand, draggin' both boys down to the pub, kickin' n' hollerin', if need be. "C'mon boys! Our night's jus' beginnin'!"
"Alright, come on. And no, I'm not kissing Drusilla. We have someone else kiss it like the other time. You can even ensure the person kisses Drusilla as much as you want. We talked about this before. Come on, I don't feel like dealing with the other, drinking everything away while the guild is going to be in complete chaos, now with the boss dead." He leads Molly to the tavern. However, before he moves further, he looks over at Asbestos. "Come on, Asbestos. Time is wasting away." Then, he resumes walking towards the tavern with Molly after letting her hold his long sleeve; better the sleeve than his hand after what happened the last time he let her held his hand.
Under the mournful cloak of nightfall, Molly, her whimsical heart pierced by Gotu's rejection, pouts extravagantly. Her lips curl into an expression so dramatic it could rival the grief of a thousand heartbroken maidens. Despite her disappointment, the Rhinemaiden's nature proves ever unpredictable and capricious; she takes Gotu's arm with a feigned resilience, pressing herself close to him in a manner both flirtatious and unsettling.
As they stride towards the tavern, the echoes of their footsteps a soft drumbeat against the cobblestones, Mad Molly leans in closer, her nose brushing against the nape of Gotu's neck. Her breath, tainted with the scent of the night and something darker, whispers across his skin. "Vergiss das Kissing meiner doll, you smell so tempting, mein Liebchen," she murmurs, her voice a sinister blend of plea and promise. "Just ein little taste, bitte, please."
Her words, laced with an eerie allure, hang between them—a tempting dance of shadows and desire. Molly’s proximity blurs the lines of jest and earnest, her demeanor an intricate tapestry of madness woven tightly with threads of dark fascination.
As they near the tavern, the dim light flickering from within promises a night of revelry or oblivion. Molly's grip on Gotu’s sleeve tightens slightly, her fingers a ghostly caress against the fabric. Her eyes, glowing with a mix of mirth and madness... and something else yet unspoken, reflect the flickering torchlights, casting her face in a gothic tableau of haunting beauty and lurking madness.
"You can bite the necks of those we'll rob later. But remember that last time? You had that major accident from taking my blood. Turns out, all those garlicky meals I love and guzzling holy water like it's going out of style messed with my blood in a bad way. It's safer if you try someone else's blood." Gotu said to Molly. He didn't let on that he'd made a deal with a Cleric to score a steady supply of holy water by taking care of their rival in the church.
Gotu paused for a moment, casting a glance back over his shoulder, waiting for the others to catch up before he entered the tavern. He squinted against the flickering light from within, the sounds of muffled conversation and clinking glasses drifting out to meet them.
Stellclaw stays silent as the woman takes the money from the grave, clenching his teeth a little to hold back from saying anything. When she walks away towards the tavern with the others he will toss two more coins in. He then turns himself and follows the rest of the guild to the tavern for drinks in the former leaders honor.
The brute throws back 'is head and laughs, a harsh beltin' g'ffaw. "Hah! Hahahahaaa! Ah, and the world spins yet again. Good on you, Furball. Ach, but we've drinkin' to do!" Giving Fyn no quarter to react, he puts the lad o'r his shoulder once more, grabbing the cat underarm with his o'er hand, draggin' both boys down to the pub, kickin' n' hollerin', if need be. "C'mon boys! Our night's jus' beginnin'!"
Not anticipating being grabbed again, Fyn unceremoniously yelps and then immediately tries to play it off, but quickly gives up on that front. Instead, Fyn just says "It'll be one to remember." while he futilely tries to get out of the grip in an attempt to salvage what he can of his fancy clothing.
Stellclaw stays silent as the woman takes the money from the grave, clenching his teeth a little to hold back from saying anything. When she walks away towards the tavern with the others he will toss two more coins in. He then turns himself and follows the rest of the guild to the tavern for drinks in the former leaders honor.
The brute throws back 'is head and laughs, a harsh beltin' g'ffaw. "Hah! Hahahahaaa! Ah, and the world spins yet again. Good on you, Furball. Ach, but we've drinkin' to do!" Giving Fyn no quarter to react, he puts the lad o'r his shoulder once more, grabbing the cat underarm with his o'er hand, draggin' both boys down to the pub, kickin' n' hollerin', if need be. "C'mon boys! Our night's jus' beginnin'!"
Not anticipating being grabbed again, Fyn unceremoniously yelps and then immediately tries to play it off, but quickly gives up on that front. Instead, Fyn just says "It'll be one to remember." while he futilely tries to get out of the grip in an attempt to salvage what he can of his fancy clothing.
Fist notices the lad's worry o'r his fancied threads.
"Worry no', boyo. We'll hit a few o' the nicer districts, get you stripped, cleaned 'n rethreaded in somethin' newer, nicer."
When the changeling heard his name being called, his ears perked up. "Yes! Coming~" He began to jog in place, giving the others who haven't yet followed a 'come with us' wave before running over to where Gotu and Molly were walking. He followed along with them towards the tavern, absentmindedly humming a tune. He was intrigued with the connection Molly had with the doll. Mostly on the peripheral of jobs in the guild, he didn't really see her that much at the gatherings. Not that he really paid attention at many of their meetings. He probably should have, to be honest. With their leader gone, now he didn't know what was going to happen! And wasn't that fun~ When things were not planned, it was left to pure whimsy! A fun fact that he cherished in his heart.
Now, Asbestos was at least glad to have Gotu there, for some reason he was usually paired with him. As he skipped along with them, he tilted his head in fascination at Molly's request for a 'bite.' The ever more closer she got to the wizard, the more into a weird uncomfortable territory it got for the druid. He just couldn't tell what was happening. He lifted his index finger in a question, "I could, um, kiss the doll if you'd like! Yes?" He had caught wind of that hard 'no' from Gotu earlier and he thought that maybe this was in retaliation for that denial. He looked at Gotu with concern and then at Molly with curious eyes and a smile.
As the chilling shadows of the evening deepen, the Rhinemaiden's macabre revelry finds a sudden and disturbing spark of delight. As Asbestos offers to kiss her grotesque companion, Drusilla, a perverse thrill ignites within Molly, transforming her demeanor into one of deranged glee. Her pale, unearthly eyes, wide and shimmering with a psychotic glimmer, fixate on the changeling with an intensity that borders on the absurd.
Her head tilts slightly, an eerie mimicry of innocent curiosity, as she lifts the doll to her ear, listening to the whispered secrets of her inanimate confidant. Molly's laughter breaks free, a hysterical cascade of girlish giggles that sounds both joyful and terrifying. "Oh dear, you are such a verdorben, sadistisch kleines Dolly, Drusilla, how sehr böse of you. Ich liebe it, und will präsentiere your ripe und ready Ziel as my dearest bids me!!!" she declares, her voice a chilling blend of amusement and foreboding.
Turning back to Asbestos, Mad Molly's twisted smile widens, revealing a horror of razor-sharp fangs. "Drusilla akzeptiert dein kind offer, dear süß auf," Molly croons, her voice dripping with malevolent mirth. In one swift, disturbing motion, she flips the doll around and upside down, presenting its cloth bum to the changeling. "Geh vor, auf, Princess Drusilla awaits the süße magische kiss of an auf Princeling, geh vor,"she urges, her finger pointing imperiously to the dolly's royal derrière. "Right hier!"
The scene unfolds with a gothic intensity, the Rhinemaiden's actions and words weaving a tapestry of dark whimsy and unsettling charm. Her demand for the kiss, framed as an innocuous request, masks the deep currents of her madness, turning a simple interaction into a tableau of sinister delight. The air around them thickens with the promise of a night as unpredictable as Molly's twisted fancies.
When the changeling heard his name being called, his ears perked up. "Yes! Coming~" He began to jog in place, giving the others who haven't yet followed a 'come with us' wave before running over to where Gotu and Molly were walking. He followed along with them towards the tavern, absentmindedly humming a tune. He was intrigued with the connection Molly had with the doll. Mostly on the peripheral of jobs in the guild, he didn't really see her that much at the gatherings. Not that he really paid attention at many of their meetings. He probably should have, to be honest. With their leader gone, now he didn't know what was going to happen! And wasn't that fun~ When things were not planned, it was left to pure whimsy! A fun fact that he cherished in his heart.
Now, Asbestos was at least glad to have Gotu there, for some reason he was usually paired with him. As he skipped along with them, he tilted his head in fascination at Molly's request for a 'bite.' The ever more closer she got to the wizard, the more into a weird uncomfortable territory it got for the druid. He just couldn't tell what was happening. He lifted his index finger in a question, "I could, um, kiss the doll if you'd like! Yes?" He had caught wind of that hard 'no' from Gotu earlier and he thought that maybe this was in retaliation for that denial. He looked at Gotu with concern and then at Molly with curious eyes and a smile.
As the chilling shadows of the evening deepen, the Rhinemaiden's macabre revelry finds a sudden and disturbing spark of delight. As Asbestos offers to kiss her grotesque companion, Drusilla, a perverse thrill ignites within Molly, transforming her demeanor into one of deranged glee. Her pale, unearthly eyes, wide and shimmering with a psychotic glimmer, fixate on the changeling with an intensity that borders on the absurd.
Her head tilts slightly, an eerie mimicry of innocent curiosity, as she lifts the doll to her ear, listening to the whispered secrets of her inanimate confidant. Molly's laughter breaks free, a hysterical cascade of girlish giggles that sounds both joyful and terrifying. "Oh dear, you are such a verdorben, sadistisch kleines Dolly, Drusilla, how sehr böse of you. Ich liebe it, und will präsentiere your ripe und ready Ziel as my dearest bids me!!!" she declares, her voice a chilling blend of amusement and foreboding.
Turning back to Asbestos, Mad Molly's twisted smile widens, revealing a horror of razor-sharp fangs. "Drusilla akzeptiert dein kind offer, dear süß auf," Molly croons, her voice dripping with malevolent mirth. In one swift, disturbing motion, she flips the doll around and upside down, presenting its cloth bum to the changeling. "Geh vor, auf, Princess Drusilla awaits the süße magische kiss of an auf Princeling, geh vor,"she urges, her finger pointing imperiously to the dolly's royal derrière. "Right hier!"
The scene unfolds with a gothic intensity, the Rhinemaiden's actions and words weaving a tapestry of dark whimsy and unsettling charm. Her demand for the kiss, framed as an innocuous request, masks the deep currents of her madness, turning a simple interaction into a tableau of sinister delight. The air around them thickens with the promise of a night as unpredictable as Molly's twisted fancies.
"Molly said she is delighted in having you kiss her doll and demands you to do it now." Gotu roughly translated.
"'The Falling Goat' is a popular enough tavern with many in the city crossing from other districts, bypassing several lesser taverns on the way, just to get to 'The Falling Goat.' It get's its name from the wooden sign hanging 10 feet over the door depicting a mountain goat with an alarming expression of horror on it's face as it falls off the side of said mountain. The owner is a former adventurer, one 'Rowdy' Ruggin 'One-Eye,' who sometimes drops by to spend some time behind the bar. Most times though, Garth, the regular barkeep is present and presides over the establishment and it's half dozen or so serving wenches, of which Tamyra (human) and Xalette (half-elf) are the most popular due to their 'over friendly' demeanor and extra services as 'bed-warmers.'
The usual patrons range from rich merchants to hard working laborers, shop keeps to grifters, and it is usually packed 3-quarters full or more as it has a wide range of drinks, of which their signature the 'Crawler' leaves people unable to walk before they can finish a half dozen of them. Also of note is their spicy meat pies, not spicy as in hot but spicy as in a secret mix that is quite tasty and delicious. There is also always entertainment of some kind, from a card game to darts, even an occasional dice game in one of the corners, usually these die down or are suspended whenever 'The Falling Goat' is lucky enough to host a bard for the evening.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
Asbestos's smile grew larger to match with Molly's, his laugh rivaling hers. Their laughs in the silent of the night merged into an unsettling, restless cackle. A nightmarish melody. His, though, was coated with uncertainty. He backed up a bit when her laughter turned into more a fit, which is when he realized it was time to stay silent and shut his mouth.
Her words sounded like gibberish to the changeling, something neither here nor there, as he tried to figure out what she meant in the scramble. "Haha yes!" He chimed in, not sure what he was getting himself into. The sight of fangs took him aback. 'Fiesty~' He cooed in his mind, then flashed back a set of fangs of his own, shifting his mouth to match hers. It was not of malice, but of an instinct to copy. He didn't know what she was, but he decided, she was definitely not human.
'Ah, okay, that took a turn.' He looked down to come face-to-face with um... the doll's behind. He looked up with curiosity to Molly then back to Gotu. 'She wants you to kiss it.' The wizard's words filled him with a certainty he wished wasn't true. 'Eughhh...' He tried his best to hide a grimace at the look of the doll's rear-end, but... (haha) ... he couldn't help let out a whimperous "Oh."He didn't like this situation. Not one bit. Though he didn't mind being flirtatious with anyone ('twas fun), but to be flirted with back... or whatever this was... was not something he wanted to be in.
"Mwah!"He quickly leaned in, grabbed the doll, and kissed its butt while shutting his eyes tight. As soon as the deed was done, he reeled back and his shoulders sank. With the swoosh of his cloak, he hid his face and began to wipe his mouth really rapidly. "Bleh! Ugh!" With another swoosh back, he looked to face them,"Fun~! Yes. So very lovely. Yes... let us go... shall we!"
Some sharp laughter comes ou' from the night behind the awaitin' trio. Fist appears, Steelclaw's annoyed face pe'kin' ou' from under the brute's thick right arm, and Fyn's lower half the only thing visible of the poor changelin' loungin' o'r the big man's shoulder.
Fist stares the flustered Asbestos square in th' eyes. His yellow crooked teeth flashing in the tavern light. "Damn boyo! If'n I'd known ya played games like tha', I'd 'ave hung 'round you more of'en!"
He tenderly drops both men off, takin' a moment to scratch the kitty behind the ear. He looks 'round. "Ach. 'Still a few short. Ah well." He smacks Gotu in the back with what must've been enough force to leave a significant red hand print; to Fist, it was a friendly pat. "Le's git in there, lad. Buy the first round with that bit I gave you. When ev'ryone's arriv'd, we can make our toast an' git to work."
Then, in a hushed whisper hopefully out of Gotu's earshot, he adds, "then maybe we can find you a girl, or boy, help you relax."
Some sharp laughter comes ou' from the night behind the awaitin' trio. Fist appears, Steelclaw's annoyed face pe'kin' ou' from under the brute's thick right arm, and Fyn's lower half the only thing visible of the poor changelin' loungin' o'r the big man's shoulder.
Fist stares the flustered Asbestos square in th' eyes. His yellow crooked teeth flashing in the tavern light. "Damn boyo! If'n I'd known ya played games like tha', I'd 'ave hung 'round you more of'en!"
He tenderly drops both men off, takin' a moment to scratch the kitty behind the ear. He looks 'round. "Ach. 'Still a few short. Ah well." He smacks Gotu in the back with what must've been enough force to leave a significant red hand print; to Fist, it was a friendly pat. "Le's git in there, lad. Buy the first round with that bit I gave you. When ev'ryone's arriv'd, we can make our toast an' git to work."
Then, in a hushed whisper hopefully out of Gotu's earshot, he adds, "then maybe we can find you a girl, or boy, help you relax."
"I do recall that we had an agreement. I stop burning your booze, and you stop giving me your friendly pats. I'm a Wizard, not a Monk or Fighter. My body is weak, so stop it." Gotu grits his teeth, nearly throwing a Fire Bolt at Fist and eyeing some of the alcohol nearby. "And no. I am not gay, for the last time, and I do not need you to find me another girl... or at least not with Molly still around. I know you were drunk at the time, but Molly did end up killing that poor girl, and you and I had to go clean that mess up afterward. I do not need to relax as you say. If I want to relax, I would love to study more on the arcane art."
But the brute can only laugh. An' why not? Fer all the Wizard's bluster, he hasn't tried to kill 'im yet. Even the boss man tried to kill 'im at least once! He pats Gotu on his wee head and strolls inside. "Less talk, more drink lads an' lass. We'll worry abou' bedwarmers later!"
'Hmm...' maybe I'll find 'im an orc girl this time...'
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As the twilight tendrils of evening gather in the crevices of the streets the Rhinemaiden's eyes aglow with the fire of a fractured mind, watches the interplay between the guild members with a disquieting intensity. Her grip on the ghastly doll, Drusilla, tightens as Gotu approaches her, the spell of understanding begins to weave its silken threads through the air between them.
Under the eerie glow of a moon creeping its way into the darkening sky, Molly clutches her grotesque doll, Drusilla, with an unsettling fervor her eyes flicker with a wild, disturbing gleam.
"Ach, Gotu, mein alter Freund, so schön dich wieder zu sehen," Molly coos, her voice laced with a sinister sweetness. "Remember the games, die wir gespielt haben? The screams, das Echo im Dunkel?" Her fingers tighten around Drusilla, pushing the doll ominously towards Gotu's face. "Kiss her, mein tapferer Held. Show her deine Liebe, before we dance into the Nacht."
Her laughter, a disjointed symphony of malice and mirth, spirals around them like a cold breeze her tone a macabre lilt that dances on the edge of sanity.
--------------------
**Comprehend Languages Translation: **
"again you see to good so, friend old my, Gotu, Ach. played we games the Remember? dark the in echo the, screams The? hero brave my, her Kiss. night the into dance we before love your her Show. breeze cold a like them around spirals mirth and malice of symphony disjointed a, laughter Her. lips your of warmth the feels Drusilla that until not yet, not leave cannot We. Drusilla sweet for kiss tiny a just, she insists, sanity of edge the on dances that lilt macabre a."
--------------------
Molly's peculiar insistence that Gotu pay homage to her doll as requested boarders upon obession... Paying homage will guarantee the Rhinemaiden's cooperation...
Gotu groaned once more, whistling. He could have studied further into the arcane art to finally learn the [Tooltip Not Found]. Instead, he got to deal with this too often and realized that he got tricked into being the one to deal with Molly compared to others.
Instead, he just cast Mending on the doll to fix any tears recently made, but not to the point it's fully fixed. The last time he did, Molly threw a fit. So, just enough repair to prevent it from falling apart, and of course, he follows up with Prestidigitation to make the doll dirtier than it already is.
"Alright, come on. And no, I'm not kissing Drusilla. We have someone else kiss it like the other time. You can even ensure the person kisses Drusilla as much as you want. We talked about this before. Come on, I don't feel like dealing with the other, drinking everything away while the guild is going to be in complete chaos, now with the boss dead." He leads Molly to the tavern. However, before he moves further, he looks over at Asbestos. "Come on, Asbestos. Time is wasting away." Then, he resumes walking towards the tavern with Molly after letting her hold his long sleeve; better the sleeve than his hand after what happened the last time he let her held his hand.
Fyn takes in a deep breath before walking up and kneeling next to Steelclaw. Without a word, Fyn grabs a few coins out of his pouch and tosses them in to replace the pieces stolen by Molly. He remains silent for a while, drinking in the moment, before eventually speaking up. "The others are planning to hit a tavern. Drink and steal in his honor. I..." Fyn hesitates for a moment, contemplating his words before continuing. "I know we haven't gotten along the best in the past, but Biscotti was like a father to the both of us. And we both see this guild as a family. Even if only for one night, let's set aside our differences to respect the man who brought us together in the first place."
Fist stands by the touchin' heart to heart, pickin' food from his teeth and watchin' Gotu play sitter. If he can get the wizard boy on his lap later, he may be able to parse an outfit size in secret, mayhaps git the lil' sourpuss a new robe. 'Or maybe git 'im drunk enough to loos'n up a lil'. The man's puckered tighter than the drawstrings on a noble's coin purse. Maybe findin' 'im a wench'd work. Always looses me up,' he thinks.
'...well, lest he's sly. Eh. 'Could always find a barboy for 'im, instead.'
A redheaded woman comes to mourn, you've all seen her around Biscotti's office. Some of you think she's an accountant. Others know she found the identity of "The Ripper" a few years back and saved who knows how many "Ladies" who worked for the organization (Why, Mr. Fist himself may have had the pleasure of stopping that guy). Everyone calls her "Lace" because she likes to wear lacy outfits. But If you call her "Lacy" instead of "Lace", she ignores you as if you weren't there. You'll also get a raised eyebrow if you call her an elf, and an eyeroll if you call her a hobbit. She may be 5 ft even, but she's human.
This time she wears a veil of black lace in additon to her usual lace trim. She carries a colorful bouquet that includes many white roses, and places a single black orchid on the grave. She pauses for a moment of silence over the grave, then goes to each of you and hands you a white rose, and one other flower, and explains: "The black orchid is for the dead. But funerals are to comfort the living. In the symbols of flowers, a white rose is for new beginnings. And this flower* (hands it to you) symbolizes a trait that Biscotti admired in you".
"I'm a very curious girl and, to paraphrase a famous person "I drink moderately and find out things", kind of a motto for investigators. Which is how I know that THIS ;place (names establishment) has 100 yr old Scotch and 100 gp per bottle wine. That Biscottie ordered under a competitor's name, so they're on the hook if it's stolen. Just saying."
Victorian Flower Symbolism
(OOC apologies for the delay, I bit off more than I could chew. I was enthusiastic about the Victorian setting & got appropriate art and looked up Victorian flower symbolism. But had to work, and am too tired to do more tonight. Please pick a flower from the Victorian Flower Symbolism link if you like)
Next to the grave stands a tall human, wearing leather armor and as always a lot of tools at his waist. He is looking at what is happening at the graveyard. He said his words during the ceremony as one of Biscotti's right hands. To give others the privacy to say their own good byes he gives a final look to the grave
"Good bye my leader, good bye friend. We had good times, you made sure of that and you will be missed" With a look around the cemetery. "Now we will have to see what is going to happen with the guild, who will step up to lead? And how will they lead? Ah, those are worries for tomorrow now we will honor your memory."
After these words he walks away from the grave, listening to what the others are planning. Hearing about Fist's plans he follows along, not sure if it is to good of an idea to do all of that this evening while in mourning. But being sure that it will happen with or without him and the guild is his life so it will be with him for sure.
"grandpa" Salkur, Gnome Arti/Sorc: Forged in Chaos | Pepin, Human Arti/Cleric: Goblin horde | Mixtli, Volc Genasi Arti: Champions of the Citadel | Erix Vadalitis, Human Druid: Rising from the last war | Smithy, Human Arti: Night Ravens: Black orchids for Biscotti | Tamphalic Aliprax, Dragonborn Wizard: Chronicles of the Accursed | Doc, Dwarven Cleric (2024): Adventure at Hope's End | Abathax, Tiefling Illriger: Hunt for the Balowang | Gorin Mestel, Human Arti: Descend into Avernus
Under the mournful cloak of nightfall, Molly, her whimsical heart pierced by Gotu's rejection, pouts extravagantly. Her lips curl into an expression so dramatic it could rival the grief of a thousand heartbroken maidens. Despite her disappointment, the Rhinemaiden's nature proves ever unpredictable and capricious; she takes Gotu's arm with a feigned resilience, pressing herself close to him in a manner both flirtatious and unsettling.
As they stride towards the tavern, the echoes of their footsteps a soft drumbeat against the cobblestones, Mad Molly leans in closer, her nose brushing against the nape of Gotu's neck. Her breath, tainted with the scent of the night and something darker, whispers across his skin. "Vergiss das Kissing meiner doll, you smell so tempting, mein Liebchen," she murmurs, her voice a sinister blend of plea and promise. "Just ein little taste, bitte, please."
Her words, laced with an eerie allure, hang between them—a tempting dance of shadows and desire. Molly’s proximity blurs the lines of jest and earnest, her demeanor an intricate tapestry of madness woven tightly with threads of dark fascination.
As they near the tavern, the dim light flickering from within promises a night of revelry or oblivion. Molly's grip on Gotu’s sleeve tightens slightly, her fingers a ghostly caress against the fabric. Her eyes, glowing with a mix of mirth and madness... and something else yet unspoken, reflect the flickering torchlights, casting her face in a gothic tableau of haunting beauty and lurking madness.
((I picked Daisy for the flower! heheh the great gatsby vibes))
"Ohhhh~ Thank you! A white rose." Asbestos, while waiting for a direction, took the flowers from Lace in childlike wonder. "Oh! Ah a daisy too, how sweet!" He stuck the two flowers into his hair, but when they fell off due to his dwarf persona's short brown hair, he instead picked them up and put one each behind his ears. The meaning of flowers was something he should have probably known as a druid, to which he did but only a passing knowledge of. The white rose, well she already gave an explanation of, and the daisy... it meant something on the tip of his tongue that he couldn't quite recall. It conjured up a mental image of 'sunshine and carefree' (how does one imagine carefree to be like?) where soon enough the yellow innards of the daisy bore down intensely like the sticky hot summer sun, searing a sunburn onto his mental consciousness as the thought burned away like paper to a candle.
When the changeling heard his name being called, his ears perked up. "Yes! Coming~" He began to jog in place, giving the others who haven't yet followed a 'come with us' wave before running over to where Gotu and Molly were walking. He followed along with them towards the tavern, absentmindedly humming a tune. He was intrigued with the connection Molly had with the doll. Mostly on the peripheral of jobs in the guild, he didn't really see her that much at the gatherings. Not that he really paid attention at many of their meetings. He probably should have, to be honest. With their leader gone, now he didn't know what was going to happen! And wasn't that fun~ When things were not planned, it was left to pure whimsy! A fun fact that he cherished in his heart.
Now, Asbestos was at least glad to have Gotu there, for some reason he was usually paired with him. As he skipped along with them, he tilted his head in fascination at Molly's request for a 'bite.' The ever more closer she got to the wizard, the more into a weird uncomfortable territory it got for the druid. He just couldn't tell what was happening. He lifted his index finger in a question, "I could, um, kiss the doll if you'd like! Yes?" He had caught wind of that hard 'no' from Gotu earlier and he thought that maybe this was in retaliation for that denial. He looked at Gotu with concern and then at Molly with curious eyes and a smile.
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Stellclaw stays silent as the woman takes the money from the grave, clenching his teeth a little to hold back from saying anything. When she walks away towards the tavern with the others he will toss two more coins in. As Fyn kneels and speaks the tabaxi just nods at his words "I'm good with that. Let's go get a drink." He then turns himself and follows the rest of the guild to the tavern for drinks in the former leaders honor.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
The brute throws back 'is head and laughs, a harsh beltin' g'ffaw. "Hah! Hahahahaaa! Ah, and the world spins yet again. Good on you, Furball. Ach, but we've drinkin' to do!" Giving Fyn no quarter to react, he puts the lad o'r his shoulder once more, grabbing the cat underarm with his o'er hand, draggin' both boys down to the pub, kickin' n' hollerin', if need be. "C'mon boys! Our night's jus' beginnin'!"
"You can bite the necks of those we'll rob later. But remember that last time? You had that major accident from taking my blood. Turns out, all those garlicky meals I love and guzzling holy water like it's going out of style messed with my blood in a bad way. It's safer if you try someone else's blood." Gotu said to Molly. He didn't let on that he'd made a deal with a Cleric to score a steady supply of holy water by taking care of their rival in the church.
Gotu paused for a moment, casting a glance back over his shoulder, waiting for the others to catch up before he entered the tavern. He squinted against the flickering light from within, the sounds of muffled conversation and clinking glasses drifting out to meet them.
Not anticipating being grabbed again, Fyn unceremoniously yelps and then immediately tries to play it off, but quickly gives up on that front. Instead, Fyn just says "It'll be one to remember." while he futilely tries to get out of the grip in an attempt to salvage what he can of his fancy clothing.
Fist notices the lad's worry o'r his fancied threads.
"Worry no', boyo. We'll hit a few o' the nicer districts, get you stripped, cleaned 'n rethreaded in somethin' newer, nicer."
As the chilling shadows of the evening deepen, the Rhinemaiden's macabre revelry finds a sudden and disturbing spark of delight. As Asbestos offers to kiss her grotesque companion, Drusilla, a perverse thrill ignites within Molly, transforming her demeanor into one of deranged glee. Her pale, unearthly eyes, wide and shimmering with a psychotic glimmer, fixate on the changeling with an intensity that borders on the absurd.
Her head tilts slightly, an eerie mimicry of innocent curiosity, as she lifts the doll to her ear, listening to the whispered secrets of her inanimate confidant. Molly's laughter breaks free, a hysterical cascade of girlish giggles that sounds both joyful and terrifying. "Oh dear, you are such a verdorben, sadistisch kleines Dolly, Drusilla, how sehr böse of you. Ich liebe it, und will präsentiere your ripe und ready Ziel as my dearest bids me!!!" she declares, her voice a chilling blend of amusement and foreboding.
Turning back to Asbestos, Mad Molly's twisted smile widens, revealing a horror of razor-sharp fangs. "Drusilla akzeptiert dein kind offer, dear süß auf," Molly croons, her voice dripping with malevolent mirth. In one swift, disturbing motion, she flips the doll around and upside down, presenting its cloth bum to the changeling. "Geh vor, auf, Princess Drusilla awaits the süße magische kiss of an auf Princeling, geh vor," she urges, her finger pointing imperiously to the dolly's royal derrière. "Right hier!"
The scene unfolds with a gothic intensity, the Rhinemaiden's actions and words weaving a tapestry of dark whimsy and unsettling charm. Her demand for the kiss, framed as an innocuous request, masks the deep currents of her madness, turning a simple interaction into a tableau of sinister delight. The air around them thickens with the promise of a night as unpredictable as Molly's twisted fancies.
"Molly said she is delighted in having you kiss her doll and demands you to do it now." Gotu roughly translated.
"'The Falling Goat' is a popular enough tavern with many in the city crossing from other districts, bypassing several lesser taverns on the way, just to get to 'The Falling Goat.' It get's its name from the wooden sign hanging 10 feet over the door depicting a mountain goat with an alarming expression of horror on it's face as it falls off the side of said mountain. The owner is a former adventurer, one 'Rowdy' Ruggin 'One-Eye,' who sometimes drops by to spend some time behind the bar. Most times though, Garth, the regular barkeep is present and presides over the establishment and it's half dozen or so serving wenches, of which Tamyra (human) and Xalette (half-elf) are the most popular due to their 'over friendly' demeanor and extra services as 'bed-warmers.'
The usual patrons range from rich merchants to hard working laborers, shop keeps to grifters, and it is usually packed 3-quarters full or more as it has a wide range of drinks, of which their signature the 'Crawler' leaves people unable to walk before they can finish a half dozen of them. Also of note is their spicy meat pies, not spicy as in hot but spicy as in a secret mix that is quite tasty and delicious. There is also always entertainment of some kind, from a card game to darts, even an occasional dice game in one of the corners, usually these die down or are suspended whenever 'The Falling Goat' is lucky enough to host a bard for the evening.
Asbestos's smile grew larger to match with Molly's, his laugh rivaling hers. Their laughs in the silent of the night merged into an unsettling, restless cackle. A nightmarish melody. His, though, was coated with uncertainty. He backed up a bit when her laughter turned into more a fit, which is when he realized it was time to stay silent and shut his mouth.
Her words sounded like gibberish to the changeling, something neither here nor there, as he tried to figure out what she meant in the scramble. "Haha yes!" He chimed in, not sure what he was getting himself into. The sight of fangs took him aback. 'Fiesty~' He cooed in his mind, then flashed back a set of fangs of his own, shifting his mouth to match hers. It was not of malice, but of an instinct to copy. He didn't know what she was, but he decided, she was definitely not human.
'Ah, okay, that took a turn.' He looked down to come face-to-face with um... the doll's behind. He looked up with curiosity to Molly then back to Gotu. 'She wants you to kiss it.' The wizard's words filled him with a certainty he wished wasn't true. 'Eughhh...' He tried his best to hide a grimace at the look of the doll's rear-end, but... (haha) ... he couldn't help let out a whimperous "Oh." He didn't like this situation. Not one bit. Though he didn't mind being flirtatious with anyone ('twas fun), but to be flirted with back... or whatever this was... was not something he wanted to be in.
"Mwah!" He quickly leaned in, grabbed the doll, and kissed its butt while shutting his eyes tight. As soon as the deed was done, he reeled back and his shoulders sank. With the swoosh of his cloak, he hid his face and began to wipe his mouth really rapidly. "Bleh! Ugh!" With another swoosh back, he looked to face them, "Fun~! Yes. So very lovely. Yes... let us go... shall we!"
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Some sharp laughter comes ou' from the night behind the awaitin' trio. Fist appears, Steelclaw's annoyed face pe'kin' ou' from under the brute's thick right arm, and Fyn's lower half the only thing visible of the poor changelin' loungin' o'r the big man's shoulder.
Fist stares the flustered Asbestos square in th' eyes. His yellow crooked teeth flashing in the tavern light. "Damn boyo! If'n I'd known ya played games like tha', I'd 'ave hung 'round you more of'en!"
He tenderly drops both men off, takin' a moment to scratch the kitty behind the ear. He looks 'round. "Ach. 'Still a few short. Ah well." He smacks Gotu in the back with what must've been enough force to leave a significant red hand print; to Fist, it was a friendly pat. "Le's git in there, lad. Buy the first round with that bit I gave you. When ev'ryone's arriv'd, we can make our toast an' git to work."
Then, in a hushed whisper hopefully out of Gotu's earshot, he adds, "then maybe we can find you a girl, or boy, help you relax."
"I do recall that we had an agreement. I stop burning your booze, and you stop giving me your friendly pats. I'm a Wizard, not a Monk or Fighter. My body is weak, so stop it." Gotu grits his teeth, nearly throwing a Fire Bolt at Fist and eyeing some of the alcohol nearby. "And no. I am not gay, for the last time, and I do not need you to find me another girl... or at least not with Molly still around. I know you were drunk at the time, but Molly did end up killing that poor girl, and you and I had to go clean that mess up afterward. I do not need to relax as you say. If I want to relax, I would love to study more on the arcane art."
But the brute can only laugh. An' why not? Fer all the Wizard's bluster, he hasn't tried to kill 'im yet. Even the boss man tried to kill 'im at least once! He pats Gotu on his wee head and strolls inside. "Less talk, more drink lads an' lass. We'll worry abou' bedwarmers later!"
'Hmm...' maybe I'll find 'im an orc girl this time...'