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"What? What happened here?" then noticing blood Zofsaadi shouts "Who did this?" and runs around tavern looking for other traces (survival check 4)
Zofsaadi finds no trace in his blind rage --- no sign of the kidnappers. His gaze turns red as he races around the room, angrily shouting. But it still doesn't help him, and he finds nothing of use, only a deep anger and lust for vengeance.
Don't lose your temper, he thinks, but he can't quite snap out of it. Someone's taken Mae, we need to find her!
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
My online big sib is fry_doodles, they’re awesome!
My best friendos: TheGatoLover, Bananer28046, and I’m probably forgetting some… Arboreal Masterpiece and Sorlock Fanatic! Ace (part of the garlic bread cult), Demiaro, genderfluid, and a pan pancake! :3 Bye bye!
Crumb uses “speaks with animals” to ask the stray canine if it’s seen were the figures who did this have gone
(OOC: Cool.)
Crumb, as you begin to cast your spell, the dog looks up, curious, and begins to back away as you briefly glow with greenish light. It barks once, twice, loudly, and then suddenly something clicks. "---are you doing? What are you doing?" it shouts at you.
The rest of you are confused as Crumb bends down to speak to this animal, yipping and barking in whatever language it speaks. And Aspen, you're shocked by the horror-stricken faces of your comrades as they gaze upon this scene. Zofsaadi shouts, Crumb barks, and the rest look drained and tired.
(OOC: Assuming Aspen was a bit slower in getting back?)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
(OOC: Cool. 2nd try, editing the post didn't work.)
Crumb, as you begin to cast your spell, the dog looks up, curious, and begins to back away as you briefly glow with greenish light. It barks once, twice, loudly, and then suddenly something clicks. "---are you doing? What are you doing?" it shouts at you.
The rest of you are confused as Crumb bends down to speak to this animal, yipping and barking in whatever language it speaks. And Aspen, you're shocked by the horror-stricken faces of your comrades as they gaze upon this scene. Zofsaadi shouts, Crumb barks, and the rest look drained and tired.
(OOC: Assuming Aspen was a bit slower in getting back?)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
(OOC, Sorry I'm having trouble keeping track, because I don't see the notifications for this thread)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hello! Call me Tana or Gato My pronouns are They/Them (I don't actually care, though) I am a teenager. I have Autism and anxiety. And, you would probably call me Trans, Aromantic, and Asexual I'm nonbinary, yay! But I will mother you if you are being stupid ALL HAIL MERLIN!!!!!!! [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] = [roll][roll:-6]+[roll:-5]+[roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll] I have adopted Golden, Salem, Wes, and Aspen
Tine stood in the doorway, frozen mid-step as the sight before her sank in. The overturned chairs. The splintered bar. The faint smear of blood on the wood. The absence. Mae’s absence. Her breath left her in a sharp, strangled exhale. “Mae…?” she whispered, as if the innkeeper might answer from behind the counter with that easy smile of hers. But only the dog’s frantic lapping filled the silence. She stepped forward slowly, each movement careful, reverent even, as though she were afraid she might disturb the last traces of warmth left in the room. Her fingers brushed one of the fallen chairs, the wood still faintly warm from the recent struggle.
Orrin and Zofsaadi’s voices rose around her, anger and panic tangling in the air, but Tine didn’t join in. Her voice had slipped somewhere deep inside her chest, shrouded by the weight of dread. When Aspen wandered in with a mouthful of biscuit, Tine’s head whipped toward him with an intensity rarely seen in her. “Aspen,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “put the biscuit down. Mae’s gone.” Crumb began casting his spell, and the sudden barking conversation between him and the dog would’ve startled her any other time, would’ve earned a startled laugh, maybe even a teasing remark. But not now. The dog’s panicked voice echoed strangely in the quiet tavern, and Tine knelt down beside Crumb, eyes wide and desperate. “Easy, little one,” she urged the dog softly, though she knew it couldn’t understand her without the spell. She looked to Crumb, trying to help the conversation however she could.
Tine stood in the doorway, frozen mid-step as the sight before her sank in. The overturned chairs. The splintered bar. The faint smear of blood on the wood. The absence. Mae’s absence. Her breath left her in a sharp, strangled exhale. “Mae…?” she whispered, as if the innkeeper might answer from behind the counter with that easy smile of hers. But only the dog’s frantic lapping filled the silence. She stepped forward slowly, each movement careful, reverent even, as though she were afraid she might disturb the last traces of warmth left in the room. Her fingers brushed one of the fallen chairs, the wood still faintly warm from the recent struggle.
Orrin and Zofsaadi’s voices rose around her, anger and panic tangling in the air, but Tine didn’t join in. Her voice had slipped somewhere deep inside her chest, shrouded by the weight of dread. When Aspen wandered in with a mouthful of biscuit, Tine’s head whipped toward him with an intensity rarely seen in her. “Aspen,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “put the biscuit down. Mae’s gone.” Crumb began casting his spell, and the sudden barking conversation between him and the dog would’ve startled her any other time, would’ve earned a startled laugh, maybe even a teasing remark. But not now. The dog’s panicked voice echoed strangely in the quiet tavern, and Tine knelt down beside Crumb, eyes wide and desperate. “Easy, little one,” she urged the dog softly, though she knew it couldn’t understand her without the spell. She looked to Crumb, trying to help the conversation however she could.
(OOC: Cool. Note to all that Orrin’s dropping out.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
(Occ: could rolling for animal Handling help with speaking to a dog?)
(OOC: Yes, certainly --- but since you can talk to it as well, a Charisma-based roll might be best. Your choice.)
As you stand there, waiting for the multispecies conversation to begin, Leif decides to take action, putting his skills to use. He begins to overturn objects, to look around and above and inside glasses. He searches near and far from the stains of blood, hoping to find something --- anything --- that'll tell the party where Mae is. And his search isn't futile. As he, dejected, turns 'round to give up, his hip crashes against a wooden drawer, meant for carrying things --- what sort, you don't know. But that isn't what interests you. A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
(Occ: could rolling for animal Handling help with speaking to a dog?)
(OOC: Yes, certainly --- but since you can talk to it as well, a Charisma-based roll might be best. Your choice.)
As you stand there, waiting for the multispecies conversation to begin, Leif decides to take action, putting his skills to use. He begins to overturn objects, to look around and above and inside glasses. He searches near and far from the stains of blood, hoping to find something --- anything --- that'll tell the party where Mae is. And his search isn't futile. As he, dejected, turns 'round to give up, his hip crashes against a wooden drawer, meant for carrying things --- what sort, you don't know. But that isn't what interests you. A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
I’ll do the animal handling. I roll a 20+3=23.
Crumb kneeling offers a hand out to the dog to smell. “It’s alright buddy, just wondering if you saw who did this are where they may have gone?”
(Occ: could rolling for animal Handling help with speaking to a dog?)
(OOC: Yes, certainly --- but since you can talk to it as well, a Charisma-based roll might be best. Your choice.)
As you stand there, waiting for the multispecies conversation to begin, Leif decides to take action, putting his skills to use. He begins to overturn objects, to look around and above and inside glasses. He searches near and far from the stains of blood, hoping to find something --- anything --- that'll tell the party where Mae is. And his search isn't futile. As he, dejected, turns 'round to give up, his hip crashes against a wooden drawer, meant for carrying things --- what sort, you don't know. But that isn't what interests you. A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
I’ll do the animal handling. I roll a 20+3=23.
Crumb kneeling offers a hand out to the dog to smell. “It’s alright buddy, just wondering if you saw who did this are where they may have gone?”
The dog continues its shouting for a few seconds, then reluctantly comes forward, sniffing at your paw. “Oh, I saw who did this all right. Took my friend! But who are you to ask?” it queries. “What are you doing here?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
Zofsaadi examins the coin: compares to the gold coin he has, looks at both sides and edge of each coin, sniffs and licks them.
A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
Zofsaadi examins the coin: compares to the gold coin he has, looks at both sides and edge of each coin, sniffs and licks them.
You two observe closely, Zofsaadi eventually taking 'the plunge' and taking a taste. It's...still different. You recognize some of the patterns of the average gold coin on it, yet it's been twisted in strange ways --- although some intricate, wave-like patterns adorn it, there's also signs of rust, where pieces of the pattern have been torn away. It tastes and smells normal --- a bit like salt, if you're being honest.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
After inspecting found coin dragonborn tosses it to Tine "I dunno, it looks normal to me. But maybe there's some magic or history involved I have no clue about."
"Magic?" observes Leif. "I hadn't thought to check! I'll do that now...' He sets the coin on a table and starts casting, muttering to himself, "No time for a ritual"
Leif's casting goes flawlessly --- slipping into familiar paths, a well-known incantation that reminds him of his beginnings. The spell takes effect, spectral bands of light waving across the coin's surface. As he searches for some sort of magic, anything that demarcates the presence of something else, he finds...nothing. No magic has weaved its way around the coin.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies, eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Not magical, at least not detectably so. I am currently stumped." Leif then says, " I think we should hold onto it and get it to someone who specializes in coinage to tell us where it is from or if it is a forgery. I'll keep it in my coin pouch for now. " The flustered elf gets up and continues with, "In the mean time, let's see if we can track down who ever got Mae."
Survival roll once he gets outside for tracking (If I can get any one to use a help action, assuming they have any tracking ability.): 23 / (with help) 22
Zofsaadi finds no trace in his blind rage --- no sign of the kidnappers. His gaze turns red as he races around the room, angrily shouting. But it still doesn't help him, and he finds nothing of use, only a deep anger and lust for vengeance.
Don't lose your temper, he thinks, but he can't quite snap out of it. Someone's taken Mae, we need to find her!
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
Aspen calmly walks in, munching on a buiscuit. “Mmph, hey, whahappened guysh?”
Heyo, I’m Starry, aka Aspen!
My hobbies: reading, crocheting, tennis, murder, arson, homicide :3 Pronouns: any!
My online big sib is fry_doodles, they’re awesome!
My best friendos: TheGatoLover, Bananer28046, and I’m probably forgetting some… Arboreal Masterpiece and Sorlock Fanatic! Ace (part of the garlic bread cult), Demiaro, genderfluid, and a pan pancake! :3 Bye bye!
Crumb uses “speaks with animals” to ask the stray canine if it’s seen were the figures who did this have gone
(OOC: Cool.)
Crumb, as you begin to cast your spell, the dog looks up, curious, and begins to back away as you briefly glow with greenish light. It barks once, twice, loudly, and then suddenly something clicks. "---are you doing? What are you doing?" it shouts at you.
The rest of you are confused as Crumb bends down to speak to this animal, yipping and barking in whatever language it speaks. And Aspen, you're shocked by the horror-stricken faces of your comrades as they gaze upon this scene. Zofsaadi shouts, Crumb barks, and the rest look drained and tired.
(OOC: Assuming Aspen was a bit slower in getting back?)
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
(OOC: Cool. 2nd try, editing the post didn't work.)
Crumb, as you begin to cast your spell, the dog looks up, curious, and begins to back away as you briefly glow with greenish light. It barks once, twice, loudly, and then suddenly something clicks. "---are you doing? What are you doing?" it shouts at you.
The rest of you are confused as Crumb bends down to speak to this animal, yipping and barking in whatever language it speaks. And Aspen, you're shocked by the horror-stricken faces of your comrades as they gaze upon this scene. Zofsaadi shouts, Crumb barks, and the rest look drained and tired.
(OOC: Assuming Aspen was a bit slower in getting back?)
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
(OOC, Sorry I'm having trouble keeping track, because I don't see the notifications for this thread)
Hello! Call me Tana or Gato
My pronouns are They/Them (I don't actually care, though)
I am a teenager. I have Autism and anxiety. And, you would probably call me Trans, Aromantic, and Asexual
I'm nonbinary, yay! But I will mother you if you are being stupid
ALL HAIL MERLIN!!!!!!! [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] + [roll]1d4[/roll] = [roll][roll:-6]+[roll:-5]+[roll:-4]+[roll:-3]+[roll:-2]+[roll:-1][/roll]
I have adopted Golden, Salem, Wes, and Aspen
Tine stood in the doorway, frozen mid-step as the sight before her sank in. The overturned chairs. The splintered bar. The faint smear of blood on the wood. The absence. Mae’s absence. Her breath left her in a sharp, strangled exhale. “Mae…?” she whispered, as if the innkeeper might answer from behind the counter with that easy smile of hers. But only the dog’s frantic lapping filled the silence. She stepped forward slowly, each movement careful, reverent even, as though she were afraid she might disturb the last traces of warmth left in the room. Her fingers brushed one of the fallen chairs, the wood still faintly warm from the recent struggle.
Orrin and Zofsaadi’s voices rose around her, anger and panic tangling in the air, but Tine didn’t join in. Her voice had slipped somewhere deep inside her chest, shrouded by the weight of dread. When Aspen wandered in with a mouthful of biscuit, Tine’s head whipped toward him with an intensity rarely seen in her. “Aspen,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “put the biscuit down. Mae’s gone.” Crumb began casting his spell, and the sudden barking conversation between him and the dog would’ve startled her any other time, would’ve earned a startled laugh, maybe even a teasing remark. But not now. The dog’s panicked voice echoed strangely in the quiet tavern, and Tine knelt down beside Crumb, eyes wide and desperate. “Easy, little one,” she urged the dog softly, though she knew it couldn’t understand her without the spell. She looked to Crumb, trying to help the conversation however she could.
(OOC: Cool. Note to all that Orrin’s dropping out.)
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
(Occ: could rolling for animal Handling help with speaking to a dog?)
(OOC sorry for not commenting earlier).
Leif looks about trying to discern what had happened, if any clues had been left behind. (Investigation +4: 21)
Cats go Moo!
(OOC: Yes, certainly --- but since you can talk to it as well, a Charisma-based roll might be best. Your choice.)
As you stand there, waiting for the multispecies conversation to begin, Leif decides to take action, putting his skills to use. He begins to overturn objects, to look around and above and inside glasses. He searches near and far from the stains of blood, hoping to find something --- anything --- that'll tell the party where Mae is. And his search isn't futile. As he, dejected, turns 'round to give up, his hip crashes against a wooden drawer, meant for carrying things --- what sort, you don't know. But that isn't what interests you. A small clinking on the floor's a sign --- that of a small gold coin, engraved with strange, whorling patterns. Not your typical coin, but...at the same time, it gives a sense of familiarity.
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
I’ll do the animal handling. I roll a 20+3=23.
Crumb kneeling offers a hand out to the dog to smell. “It’s alright buddy, just wondering if you saw who did this are where they may have gone?”
The dog continues its shouting for a few seconds, then reluctantly comes forward, sniffing at your paw. “Oh, I saw who did this all right. Took my friend! But who are you to ask?” it queries. “What are you doing here?”
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
Zofsaadi examins the coin: compares to the gold coin he has, looks at both sides and edge of each coin, sniffs and licks them.
You two observe closely, Zofsaadi eventually taking 'the plunge' and taking a taste. It's...still different. You recognize some of the patterns of the average gold coin on it, yet it's been twisted in strange ways --- although some intricate, wave-like patterns adorn it, there's also signs of rust, where pieces of the pattern have been torn away. It tastes and smells normal --- a bit like salt, if you're being honest.
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
After inspecting found coin dragonborn tosses it to Tine "I dunno, it looks normal to me. But maybe there's some magic or history involved I have no clue about."
"Magic?" observes Leif. "I hadn't thought to check! I'll do that now...' He sets the coin on a table and starts casting, muttering to himself, "No time for a ritual"
The sea elf casts detect magic
Cats go Moo!
Leif's casting goes flawlessly --- slipping into familiar paths, a well-known incantation that reminds him of his beginnings. The spell takes effect, spectral bands of light waving across the coin's surface. As he searches for some sort of magic, anything that demarcates the presence of something else, he finds...nothing. No magic has weaved its way around the coin.
(_~.~_)
The Soft in the Storm, your Friendly Neighborhood Storysmith, The Fae Conspirator
two wrenns flap tenderly underneath the skies,
eyes lying of their pursuit of the prize
but when all cards are thrown down and evils surmise,
then comes the time that the weaker must rise
[~.~]
"Not magical, at least not detectably so. I am currently stumped." Leif then says, " I think we should hold onto it and get it to someone who specializes in coinage to tell us where it is from or if it is a forgery. I'll keep it in my coin pouch for now. " The flustered elf gets up and continues with, "In the mean time, let's see if we can track down who ever got Mae."
Survival roll once he gets outside for tracking (If I can get any one to use a help action, assuming they have any tracking ability.): 23 / (with help) 22
:
Cats go Moo!
(OOC: nice :)
Cats go Moo!