The air is filled with a crisp, clean light at Springward and Dayward. Small, sparkling motes of crystalline notwater drift upward in happy, lazy streams from the lips of the pale flowers that line this quiet intersection. And it is quiet. In the space of this moment, the sound of countless soft leather boots on pavement is not to be heard. So, too, for the creaking of carts, or the murmured recitations of scholars, or the thousand other sounds that frequent this beautiful space on the quad. In the space of this moment, there is nothing to hear and no one to hear it.
And then there is something. The swift clacking of hard-heeled boots shatters the silence and cuts the clean air with its keen-edged shards. A tall tiefling woman strides down the path, her brow furrowed in an expression of barely controlled agitation. Her attire is simple, professional; not screaming of wealth so much as speaking quietly and confidently of it. Her wicked tail lashing behind her as though it might help to propel her, she walks alone past the pale flowers of the intersection onto Nightward.
But, wait- she is not alone. Slinking at the tiefling’s side with an easy grace is a young human woman. She is as tall as the tiefling, if not taller, with burning red hair and the smallest of smiles dimpling one of her cheeks. She steps lightly and easily with a sword at her hip, turning slightly or sidestepping without thought as the tiefling’s tail whips in her direction. As the pair continue onto Nightward the air becomes gradually colder, the sky dimming from the early light of morning back into the gloom of pre-dawn. The human turns briefly toward the tiefling and looks as though she will make some quip. Then, thinking better of it, she returns her watchful gaze to their surroundings.
They continue on in this way for some time. Past starlit fountains and courtyards. Past structures that shift in an out of focus as the worlds beneath them turn, as the moons in the sky phase from new to full, as their occupants occupy their minds with varying degrees of love, of dreams, of envy. The pair walk past wonders and beauty and on, and on, and on. One of the pair of them thinks, “It’s too much to last,” but the thought is fleeting, and easily ignored.
Suddenly, the tiefling stops. Her human attendant continues for a few paces up to the wall of the darkened residence building before which they now stand. She draws her sword perhaps a quarter from its scabbard, just enough for the rune embossed upon the base of the blade to glimmer with a faint purple sheen. The woman shakes her head, just a fraction, and her half smile sours slightly, almost as though she’s just heard the punchline of a joke that she saw coming from a mile away.
Seeing the gleam from her attendant’s sword, the tiefling’s eyes widen in shock. Her tail cracks through the air as she begins to march past the hall into the soot-stained alleyway, but then the air before her shimmers. A blue-skinned, man-shaped creature, arcane sigils splashed in white across its bare torso is there. It stands at its ease as though this were its parlor and not a very public and very dingy corner of the Tower. It smiles genuinely and warmly, and in a silver tenor it says, “Perspicacious. The board is not scheduled to convene on the matter of our old friend for hours, yet. Tell me, why am I unsurprised to see you here?”
Perspicacious folds her arms and stares daggers at the blue creature before her."Damn the board, Vasht! They'll take their sweet time deliberating, but I want answers now. He knew better. And to do so without even consulting me!? After all we've been through? No. This can't wait for the board. We've done a lot of good work here, but this... this could jeopardize everything. He needs to be stopped, and it needs to be me who tellshim." The tiefling makes a curt motion with her hand, indicating that Vasht should move out of the way. Now.
Vasht doesn't move, and yet its expression softens further, concern flashing gently in its shining blue eyes. "Ah, Perspicacious. So much anger for your friend?" It closes its eyes and tilts its head, almost as though searching for a tune half-heard in another room. "It wasn't so very long ago that the four of us envisioned such wonders. The very walls of this Tower were remade in the light of our labors, dear one."
Vasht opens its eyes, and the smile returns to its perfect face. "But the time for remembering past glory is behind us, eh? What is it the Archmage is always saying, "New roots, broken earth"?
It turns to Jean then. "Watch over our Madam Director, oh Guard Imperator. There is much work for her to accomplish today, and I will not see her damaged." And with that, the creature turns slightly to the side and disappears.
Perspicacious' stern facade drops for a moment, and she lets out a long sigh. In a quite voice, almost to herself, she says, "I should not have been so harsh. Vasht is right. This whole thing just has me rattled, and I am not accustomed to being rattled."Then, turning to look upon her assistant with gently glowing yellow eyes full of renewed determination, "Come along, Jean. Let's not keep the professor waiting any longer."
"Always." Jean had come a long way from the streets of Waterdeep, but the one thing that had not changed was she was a protector. That was her bond and her oath. "Well, sounds like it's going to be a long day." She murmured to Perspicacious.
((OOC: Are we doing dialogue in colour for this one?))
The pair makes their way into the small, soot-stained alley far from the main roads of the Tower. There, a low-slung building sits wedged between two tall, narrow residence halls. There are no lights in the windows of this structure, no cries of “Eureka!” sounding from its open doorway. The twinned footfalls of the human and tiefling echo sharply toward it for just a moment before they are swallowed by the gray stone and watchful darkness above.
Before they reach the building, a soft wind carries the voice of the creature for Perspicacious' ears alone: "Remember also, old friend: there art no walls in this place to bar my passage. I would see the professor's person damaged no sooner than your own."
Inside that building is a curious scene. Though entirely dark from the outside, from within it is apparent that this is due to a thick, shaded glass-like barrier that surrounds the open interior's center like a crystalline bubble. From just outside the surface of the glass, two shadows can be seen within. One is taller and moves slowly, some manner of staff held lightly in its hand. The other is shorter and moves with a bustling efficiency about the interior, alternatingly holding up a handheld device and scribbling notes in a small paper journal. There is no way into this sphere, unless of course you happen to notice the nearly seamless curving outline of a hatch on the bubble's surface directly opposite the entrance to the building.
While outside all is dark and quiet, inside is a kaleidoscope of activity. A constellation hangs in the air- bright motes of multicolored light orbiting the room in sleepy clusters. The smaller shape, a young woman, holds her device to these lights and takes note of the arcane symbols and patterns that appear to hover before its screen. The taller shape, an older dragonborn male, stands silently before a shining star. Upon closer investigation, one would observe this star is actually a glass sphere, not unlike the large bubble that surrounds the entirety of this scene. It floats, gently twirling this way and that, in the heart of the Novascope- for that is what all of this is: a world-finder. The smaller sphere contains an irregular chunk of stone, dark gray with layers of obsidian swirled throughout.
The dragonborn appears lost in the deepest of thoughts, when suddenly the young woman speaks:
Cordelia asks aloud. She keeps her eyes trained on the arcane symbols as her hands make notes on the device. Her eyeglasses reflect the various screens and symbols her gaze captured. It won't be long now, she thinks to herself as she looks down to evaluate her findings, this Novascope just might make things right. After a couple of seconds, she notices a distinct lack of reply. The human looks over to the dragonborn. The look on his face informed her that he was lost in his own genius - again. She's assisted him long enough to know that a simple call wouldn't break that spell over him. She decides to take a direct approach.
Already standing, Cordelia glides to the professor. Each step she took was quiet and quick. Her gray shawl, which covered her from the neck down to her thighs, made it seem like she had hardly exerted a single muscle in her movements. Soon, she stood right behind the professor. Cordelia couldn't help but peek over his shoulder curious about any headway he might have made.
"Professor Mulzumia." She pronounces each syllable of his name clearly and sharply, hoping to draw his attention away from his work.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
"I'm sorry Ms. Luna, were you saying something?" , the Professor says as he turns to look for the source of the voice. He's startled a bit when he sees her standing right behind him. "Oh, there you are. Are you keeping an eye on the thermal control system? You can't let it get too hot or the whole resonance casing will crack."
He turns and walks away from her before hearing what she has to say and starts stumbling around absentmindedly touching knobs and controls that don't really effect anything. He had been putting all of his weight on his good leg while he was lost in thought and is now leaning heavily on his cane to take some of the pressure off.
Cordelia lets out a sigh. Leave it to the professor to get lost yet again! She walks toward him once again, just as silent and twice as deadly.
"Professor, there is an important board meeting today. I think you should be part of it."Cordelia adjusts her glasses as she watches the professor fiddle with the machines. She folds her arms as she presses on, "After all, you are the subject of their discussion."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
Amaruve comes into the lab to make his "regular" delivery. He wasn't unexpected per se, but one could never count on him arriving on the whim of a silly clock. He had some simple samples from the forest Gordra might want to examine. That one worked a bit too much.
Amaruve might be described as a man of average height and build, though his strong features stand out as a bit odd to most humans. He does little to maintain his black hair and a scraggly beard and mustache. His clothes are simple, durable leather shorts with a grey shirt and leather vest. He wears no shoes and feels no reason to separate himself from the earth that way.
He backs through the door into the lab where he'd probably find the professor, and fumbles a bit to find the seem to enter the sphere. "Gordra" he greets his old friend and hangs his satchel from a conveniently located control nob. When he notes Cordelia is here as well he looks her over and leans in a little too close as he sniffs. He reaches out and pinches the edge of her shawl with his thumb and fore finger as he moves around her curiously, feeling the soft material. "Hmmn" an accepting grunt.
He turns to the professor to great him and take his hand as city folk do, but not waiting 'til its offered. "Working." He says, not a question so much as an observation. He looks around the space, "I'll go." He starts for the door leaving his satchel where it hangs.
Having dealt with this man before, Cordelia merely raises an eyebrow as he sniffs her rather than any other sort of typical reaction you might expect. If she had a nickel for every odd thing she'd seen him do, she could probably afford at least a pack of gum. Maybe even two!
Something about him always seemed, for lack of better words, feral. She chalks it up to having read too many supernatural novels as a teen while also fighting too many supernatural creatures. Perhaps it was his beard and odd demeanor that set it off. Team Jacob, indeed. She tilts her head as she watches the odd ritual between him and the professor. They almost never make full eye contact with one another. Just grunts, groans, and non-goodbyes.
Cordelia watches as the man makes for the door without his satchel. What was it about the people in Cordelia's life? Were all people this absentminded? She rolls her eyes to herself as she takes a few steps toward Amaruve. "Ahem," she clears her throat, more to grab his attention than anything, "I believe you forgot your bag, Mr. Amaruve."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
"Mmm, samples." He says lifting the bag toward the professor. He thinks a moment on what he'd included, but seems to hang up before producing the words. Inside the sack there are a few specimens in separate compartments. A fungus, a little sprouting plant in a pocket laden with soil, a dead rodent. All of them are a bit odd in color and proportion, possibly affected by the tower's arcane energy, possibly just normal mutations, possibly recessive genes surfacing.
He points at one of the mushrooms "don't eat that." He notes, shaking his head.
The dragonborn arcanist, Professor Gordra Mulzumia, has once again lost the thread of conversation. Which is fine, apparently, as the shifter druid, Amaruve, has just exhausted his capacity for it. Cordelia, a woman replete with memories that would be entirely foreign to anyone else in this juncture between the worlds, shakes her head and returns to her work. At that precise moment the director of the Planar Well, a tiefling by the name of Perspicacious, enters the ramshackle laboratory of the master arcanist. She is accompanied by her guard, Jean O'Donoghue, who carries the strength of conviction in her arms and her heart.
Have you ever witnessed a landslide? Have you ever seen the sand begin to shift oh so slowly, before it begins to run in swift rivulets? It is terrible how quickly and how easily it begins. Some fault, some weakness has lain beneath the surface for years, for centuries. "Maybe it was destined to happen," the survivors might say. Some will counter, "They should have known," while others darkly mutter, "They knew. They knew."
And so the land rips itself in two. Its sheer, ponderous mass proves too great to support any longer and it collapses in disastrous ruin. Structures that have stood for millennia on foundations as constant as the earth itself are transformed to dust in an instant. The individual lives lost are no longer important. Now it is a question of how many? or what was left? But every landslide begins on a normal day. People move about their lives in much the same way they always do, unaware that the ground beneath their feet has already started to shift...
Perspicacious knew that the self-exiled scientist would have some manner of unsanctioned planar rifting device, Jean's sword had told her that much.
She was not prepared, however, for the extent of the insult, the MAGNITUDE of the offense she saw before her.
A small red alarm blinked at the corner of Cordelia's device, indicating an unauthorized entry. For a moment, she was the only one aware of the two shadows outside the glass. For a moment, there was a terrible tightness in her throat.
"Ms. Perspicacious." Cordelia put the device down on a rare, open space on her counter. She makes and maintains eye contact with the tiefling as she walks up to the taller woman. In a way, Cordelia interposes herself between Perspicacious and her potential quarry, the professor. "To what do we owe the pleasure." The emphasis on the final word indicating anything but.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd[Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player] Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale Ru's Current Status
As the pair approach and Cordelia moves to intercept them, Amaruve gives a sniff. The sudden anxiety, and anger makes for an unexpected scent, a rise of perspiration, heightened blood flow, like the people of various races are all best suited to communicate this way. Of course most people are deaf to their own language in this sense.
He looks to Gordra, "Trouble." Amaruve keeps cool, but the city is no place for trouble. His own anxiety should ring in the nose of everyone here like a bell... They don't seem to notice. His instincts have him ready to fight or fly.
Gordra looks up at Amaruve's warning. "Oh, Ms. Perspicacious, how....nice to see you. What brings you here on this fine day?" The professor locks eyes with his assistant. Trying as hard as he can to speak with his eyes, trying to say 'Please, fix this.'
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
The air is filled with a crisp, clean light at Springward and Dayward. Small, sparkling motes of crystalline notwater drift upward in happy, lazy streams from the lips of the pale flowers that line this quiet intersection. And it is quiet. In the space of this moment, the sound of countless soft leather boots on pavement is not to be heard. So, too, for the creaking of carts, or the murmured recitations of scholars, or the thousand other sounds that frequent this beautiful space on the quad. In the space of this moment, there is nothing to hear and no one to hear it.
And then there is something. The swift clacking of hard-heeled boots shatters the silence and cuts the clean air with its keen-edged shards. A tall tiefling woman strides down the path, her brow furrowed in an expression of barely controlled agitation. Her attire is simple, professional; not screaming of wealth so much as speaking quietly and confidently of it. Her wicked tail lashing behind her as though it might help to propel her, she walks alone past the pale flowers of the intersection onto Nightward.
But, wait- she is not alone. Slinking at the tiefling’s side with an easy grace is a young human woman. She is as tall as the tiefling, if not taller, with burning red hair and the smallest of smiles dimpling one of her cheeks. She steps lightly and easily with a sword at her hip, turning slightly or sidestepping without thought as the tiefling’s tail whips in her direction. As the pair continue onto Nightward the air becomes gradually colder, the sky dimming from the early light of morning back into the gloom of pre-dawn. The human turns briefly toward the tiefling and looks as though she will make some quip. Then, thinking better of it, she returns her watchful gaze to their surroundings.
They continue on in this way for some time. Past starlit fountains and courtyards. Past structures that shift in an out of focus as the worlds beneath them turn, as the moons in the sky phase from new to full, as their occupants occupy their minds with varying degrees of love, of dreams, of envy. The pair walk past wonders and beauty and on, and on, and on. One of the pair of them thinks, “It’s too much to last,” but the thought is fleeting, and easily ignored.
Suddenly, the tiefling stops. Her human attendant continues for a few paces up to the wall of the darkened residence building before which they now stand. She draws her sword perhaps a quarter from its scabbard, just enough for the rune embossed upon the base of the blade to glimmer with a faint purple sheen. The woman shakes her head, just a fraction, and her half smile sours slightly, almost as though she’s just heard the punchline of a joke that she saw coming from a mile away.
Seeing the gleam from her attendant’s sword, the tiefling’s eyes widen in shock. Her tail cracks through the air as she begins to march past the hall into the soot-stained alleyway, but then the air before her shimmers. A blue-skinned, man-shaped creature, arcane sigils splashed in white across its bare torso is there. It stands at its ease as though this were its parlor and not a very public and very dingy corner of the Tower. It smiles genuinely and warmly, and in a silver tenor it says, “Perspicacious. The board is not scheduled to convene on the matter of our old friend for hours, yet. Tell me, why am I unsurprised to see you here?”
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
Jean seemed utterly unsurprised and simply nodded. "Sir."
Perspicacious folds her arms and stares daggers at the blue creature before her. "Damn the board, Vasht! They'll take their sweet time deliberating, but I want answers now. He knew better. And to do so without even consulting me!? After all we've been through? No. This can't wait for the board. We've done a lot of good work here, but this... this could jeopardize everything. He needs to be stopped, and it needs to be me who tells him." The tiefling makes a curt motion with her hand, indicating that Vasht should move out of the way. Now.
Vasht doesn't move, and yet its expression softens further, concern flashing gently in its shining blue eyes. "Ah, Perspicacious. So much anger for your friend?" It closes its eyes and tilts its head, almost as though searching for a tune half-heard in another room. "It wasn't so very long ago that the four of us envisioned such wonders. The very walls of this Tower were remade in the light of our labors, dear one."
Vasht opens its eyes, and the smile returns to its perfect face. "But the time for remembering past glory is behind us, eh? What is it the Archmage is always saying, "New roots, broken earth"?
It turns to Jean then. "Watch over our Madam Director, oh Guard Imperator. There is much work for her to accomplish today, and I will not see her damaged." And with that, the creature turns slightly to the side and disappears.
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
Perspicacious' stern facade drops for a moment, and she lets out a long sigh. In a quite voice, almost to herself, she says, "I should not have been so harsh. Vasht is right. This whole thing just has me rattled, and I am not accustomed to being rattled." Then, turning to look upon her assistant with gently glowing yellow eyes full of renewed determination, "Come along, Jean. Let's not keep the professor waiting any longer."
"Always." Jean had come a long way from the streets of Waterdeep, but the one thing that had not changed was she was a protector. That was her bond and her oath. "Well, sounds like it's going to be a long day." She murmured to Perspicacious.
((OOC: Are we doing dialogue in colour for this one?))
The pair makes their way into the small, soot-stained alley far from the main roads of the Tower. There, a low-slung building sits wedged between two tall, narrow residence halls. There are no lights in the windows of this structure, no cries of “Eureka!” sounding from its open doorway. The twinned footfalls of the human and tiefling echo sharply toward it for just a moment before they are swallowed by the gray stone and watchful darkness above.
Before they reach the building, a soft wind carries the voice of the creature for Perspicacious' ears alone: "Remember also, old friend: there art no walls in this place to bar my passage. I would see the professor's person damaged no sooner than your own."
With that, they were left well and truly alone.
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
Inside that building is a curious scene. Though entirely dark from the outside, from within it is apparent that this is due to a thick, shaded glass-like barrier that surrounds the open interior's center like a crystalline bubble. From just outside the surface of the glass, two shadows can be seen within. One is taller and moves slowly, some manner of staff held lightly in its hand. The other is shorter and moves with a bustling efficiency about the interior, alternatingly holding up a handheld device and scribbling notes in a small paper journal. There is no way into this sphere, unless of course you happen to notice the nearly seamless curving outline of a hatch on the bubble's surface directly opposite the entrance to the building.
While outside all is dark and quiet, inside is a kaleidoscope of activity. A constellation hangs in the air- bright motes of multicolored light orbiting the room in sleepy clusters. The smaller shape, a young woman, holds her device to these lights and takes note of the arcane symbols and patterns that appear to hover before its screen. The taller shape, an older dragonborn male, stands silently before a shining star. Upon closer investigation, one would observe this star is actually a glass sphere, not unlike the large bubble that surrounds the entirety of this scene. It floats, gently twirling this way and that, in the heart of the Novascope- for that is what all of this is: a world-finder. The smaller sphere contains an irregular chunk of stone, dark gray with layers of obsidian swirled throughout.
The dragonborn appears lost in the deepest of thoughts, when suddenly the young woman speaks:
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
"Professor?"
Cordelia asks aloud. She keeps her eyes trained on the arcane symbols as her hands make notes on the device. Her eyeglasses reflect the various screens and symbols her gaze captured. It won't be long now, she thinks to herself as she looks down to evaluate her findings, this Novascope just might make things right. After a couple of seconds, she notices a distinct lack of reply. The human looks over to the dragonborn. The look on his face informed her that he was lost in his own genius - again. She's assisted him long enough to know that a simple call wouldn't break that spell over him. She decides to take a direct approach.
Already standing, Cordelia glides to the professor. Each step she took was quiet and quick. Her gray shawl, which covered her from the neck down to her thighs, made it seem like she had hardly exerted a single muscle in her movements. Soon, she stood right behind the professor. Cordelia couldn't help but peek over his shoulder curious about any headway he might have made.
"Professor Mulzumia." She pronounces each syllable of his name clearly and sharply, hoping to draw his attention away from his work.
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
"I'm sorry Ms. Luna, were you saying something?" , the Professor says as he turns to look for the source of the voice. He's startled a bit when he sees her standing right behind him. "Oh, there you are. Are you keeping an eye on the thermal control system? You can't let it get too hot or the whole resonance casing will crack."
He turns and walks away from her before hearing what she has to say and starts stumbling around absentmindedly touching knobs and controls that don't really effect anything. He had been putting all of his weight on his good leg while he was lost in thought and is now leaning heavily on his cane to take some of the pressure off.
Cordelia lets out a sigh. Leave it to the professor to get lost yet again! She walks toward him once again, just as silent and twice as deadly.
"Professor, there is an important board meeting today. I think you should be part of it." Cordelia adjusts her glasses as she watches the professor fiddle with the machines. She folds her arms as she presses on, "After all, you are the subject of their discussion."
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
Amaruve comes into the lab to make his "regular" delivery. He wasn't unexpected per se, but one could never count on him arriving on the whim of a silly clock. He had some simple samples from the forest Gordra might want to examine. That one worked a bit too much.
Amaruve might be described as a man of average height and build, though his strong features stand out as a bit odd to most humans. He does little to maintain his black hair and a scraggly beard and mustache. His clothes are simple, durable leather shorts with a grey shirt and leather vest. He wears no shoes and feels no reason to separate himself from the earth that way.
He backs through the door into the lab where he'd probably find the professor, and fumbles a bit to find the seem to enter the sphere. "Gordra" he greets his old friend and hangs his satchel from a conveniently located control nob. When he notes Cordelia is here as well he looks her over and leans in a little too close as he sniffs. He reaches out and pinches the edge of her shawl with his thumb and fore finger as he moves around her curiously, feeling the soft material. "Hmmn" an accepting grunt.
He turns to the professor to great him and take his hand as city folk do, but not waiting 'til its offered. "Working." He says, not a question so much as an observation. He looks around the space, "I'll go." He starts for the door leaving his satchel where it hangs.
Extended Signature
Having dealt with this man before, Cordelia merely raises an eyebrow as he sniffs her rather than any other sort of typical reaction you might expect. If she had a nickel for every odd thing she'd seen him do, she could probably afford at least a pack of gum. Maybe even two!
Something about him always seemed, for lack of better words, feral. She chalks it up to having read too many supernatural novels as a teen while also fighting too many supernatural creatures. Perhaps it was his beard and odd demeanor that set it off. Team Jacob, indeed. She tilts her head as she watches the odd ritual between him and the professor. They almost never make full eye contact with one another. Just grunts, groans, and non-goodbyes.
Cordelia watches as the man makes for the door without his satchel. What was it about the people in Cordelia's life? Were all people this absentminded? She rolls her eyes to herself as she takes a few steps toward Amaruve. "Ahem," she clears her throat, more to grab his attention than anything, "I believe you forgot your bag, Mr. Amaruve."
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
"Ahh, Mr Al'Ameth, what have you brought for us today?" the professor says, only just now realizing he'd come in.
"Mmm, samples." He says lifting the bag toward the professor. He thinks a moment on what he'd included, but seems to hang up before producing the words. Inside the sack there are a few specimens in separate compartments. A fungus, a little sprouting plant in a pocket laden with soil, a dead rodent. All of them are a bit odd in color and proportion, possibly affected by the tower's arcane energy, possibly just normal mutations, possibly recessive genes surfacing.
He points at one of the mushrooms "don't eat that." He notes, shaking his head.
Extended Signature
The dragonborn arcanist, Professor Gordra Mulzumia, has once again lost the thread of conversation. Which is fine, apparently, as the shifter druid, Amaruve, has just exhausted his capacity for it. Cordelia, a woman replete with memories that would be entirely foreign to anyone else in this juncture between the worlds, shakes her head and returns to her work. At that precise moment the director of the Planar Well, a tiefling by the name of Perspicacious, enters the ramshackle laboratory of the master arcanist. She is accompanied by her guard, Jean O'Donoghue, who carries the strength of conviction in her arms and her heart.
Have you ever witnessed a landslide? Have you ever seen the sand begin to shift oh so slowly, before it begins to run in swift rivulets? It is terrible how quickly and how easily it begins. Some fault, some weakness has lain beneath the surface for years, for centuries. "Maybe it was destined to happen," the survivors might say. Some will counter, "They should have known," while others darkly mutter, "They knew. They knew."
And so the land rips itself in two. Its sheer, ponderous mass proves too great to support any longer and it collapses in disastrous ruin. Structures that have stood for millennia on foundations as constant as the earth itself are transformed to dust in an instant. The individual lives lost are no longer important. Now it is a question of how many? or what was left? But every landslide begins on a normal day. People move about their lives in much the same way they always do, unaware that the ground beneath their feet has already started to shift...
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
Perspicacious knew that the self-exiled scientist would have some manner of unsanctioned planar rifting device, Jean's sword had told her that much.
She was not prepared, however, for the extent of the insult, the MAGNITUDE of the offense she saw before her.
A small red alarm blinked at the corner of Cordelia's device, indicating an unauthorized entry. For a moment, she was the only one aware of the two shadows outside the glass. For a moment, there was a terrible tightness in her throat.
Imani Jones - Lv 11 Warlock of The Living City - Variant Human| Fate/False Revelation
Wick Stumbleduck - Lv 4 Lore Bard - Forest Gnome | Elustran Days
Khurah - Lv 3 Star Druid - Half-orc | Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians
Dale Swanson - User of the Sound of Silence Stand - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Sunset Investigations
Ayaci Vikerfjell - Lv 8 Rune Knight | Variant Human | Storm King's Thunder
"Ms. Perspicacious." Cordelia put the device down on a rare, open space on her counter. She makes and maintains eye contact with the tiefling as she walks up to the taller woman. In a way, Cordelia interposes herself between Perspicacious and her potential quarry, the professor. "To what do we owe the pleasure." The emphasis on the final word indicating anything but.
DM: Adventures in Phandalin [Khessa], The Dread of Strahd [Darya], Dragons of Stormwreck Isle [Rook], Baldur's Gate Mysteries [4-Player]
Player: Oona in MO's Icewind Dale
Ru's Current Status
As the pair approach and Cordelia moves to intercept them, Amaruve gives a sniff. The sudden anxiety, and anger makes for an unexpected scent, a rise of perspiration, heightened blood flow, like the people of various races are all best suited to communicate this way. Of course most people are deaf to their own language in this sense.
He looks to Gordra, "Trouble." Amaruve keeps cool, but the city is no place for trouble. His own anxiety should ring in the nose of everyone here like a bell... They don't seem to notice. His instincts have him ready to fight or fly.
Extended Signature
Gordra looks up at Amaruve's warning. "Oh, Ms. Perspicacious, how....nice to see you. What brings you here on this fine day?" The professor locks eyes with his assistant. Trying as hard as he can to speak with his eyes, trying to say 'Please, fix this.'