This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Casta peers over her right shoulder, glancing first down at the firm hand on her shoulder then up into eyes welling with wisdom from behind a red mask. She stands with spear poised for the impossible redemption shot but the hope of a superior resolution comes through the team. She is ready for this. She can do this. One mob arrested in a day. Is there room for another victory? There is always room for the word to cut more deeply than the sword. Verbo et Factis. Word and deed. Diplomacy and dialogue is sometimes the better peace than submission of all Evil to Justice in the immediate moment. Rigor and Yokai have the right of it. They are an inspiration amid crisis.
Prayer offered at the speed of Thought. “Helm be with me. By your power and vigilance. Help me protect those under my charge. Ama ut ameris.”
As Casta prays, her heritage manifests as she accepts the inspiration from Rigor, Yokai and, principally, her god Helm the Vigilant. Her prayers are heard. Helm is with her. She begins to glow around her armor like a limn of blessing, shining as a torch in the dim light, radiating bright light to 20’ and dim light another 20’ beyond that. Blood from her crushing wound now gleams crimson as it slowly flows. The air around her becomes filled with the fragrance of the Primrose, cool but sunny, sweet but slightly tangy like an orange candy.
She shouts down the hall.
“Followers of the Dead Three. Hands will stay. You have well served Myrkul, Bane and Bhall, masters of the Bone Throne, the children of Jergal. Yet here we clash equally. Are you utterly against trading two for two and meeting again when we have both fully prayed for guidance?”
------------------
Mechanics:
Introspection, prayer and cast light for narrative flavor. (No anticipated mechanical game effect)
Move 15' south (consuming 25' for difficult terrain). Incidental action to pick up object "Night Blade" Continue 5' more south to complete 30' of movement.
OOC: TO reflect Yokai's advantage, I reviewed negotiations tactics from a retired FBI negotiator. The trick was to work all 5 tips into a 12 second or less monologue vice a 30 min discussion.
The rasp and clang of heavy armored footfalls ending in close, thick splashes heard earlier by the companions now resolves itself in the form of what appears to be yet another Fist of Bane, armored in chain mail, bearing a mace and a red shield covered in the Black Hand of Bane, a longbow slung across his wide sloping shoulders. He spits and sneers as he falls into an alert, defensive stance against the company’s further advance, and nods his head as he looks to his left and right, revealing a long scar down the left side of his face. The cultist turns toward the adventurers, looking back into the darkness towards Yokai, the source of the last, loud yell.
“Your math is shit, coward,” he darkly chuckles. “Never was just 'two,' and the last prize is long gone. Keep talking, let your rat bleed out…”
The Fist of Bane clashes his mace and shield together, raises his chin and sneers, taunting the adventurers to take him on...
OOC: Hail and well-met, adventurers! The intrigue of the circumstance thickens, perhaps? Only time will tell, yet precious little of it exists... Sorore has the initiative!
"I see no time to barter over fading lives. This may help the return of our brave, foolish rogue."
Sorore moves around Murdoch into the entrance tunnel to step out of the way, and casts Spare the Dying upon the fallen Night Blade, uncertain if it's too late.
OOC: Well we'll see if I learn something from the skill check. I feel like too much bargaining will put Feldinor's death in the bargainers' hands, though. A "two evils" situation seems to be forming, where we need to figure out the lesser. My move uses 20 feet to go 10 feet south through Murdoch and 5 feet west.
OOC: Good Day Adventurers! Well, it would seem there’s a bit to untangle here. Casta’s enthusiastic, brilliant, and eloquent two-round action set went off before four entities ahead of her in initiative, Sorore and the Fist of Bane you’ve heard for the last two rounds and now seen among them. Not to worry, we’ll sort this out in the narrative, with a few matters to handle in the process…
OOC: First – The Fist of Bane acts as depicted in #344, following Yokai.
OOC: Second – The matter of resolving Sorore’s Insight check: 20. She perceives the Fist thinks he speaks truthfully.
OOC: Third – The status of the first fallen Night Blade, struck by Casta and Belmort, who would have had to make four death saving throws prior to her spellcasting: 33. It would appear from these results that the fallen Night Blade, while on the cusp of death, had in fact stabilized but definitely remained unconscious and incapacitated with 0 hit points.
OOC: Fourth – Casta acts as depicted in #343 for the first half of her actions, getting through her prayer, her casting, her recovery of the Night Blade, her movement, and her words through the word “Jergal.” She is committed to the rest of the Persuasion action through the next round, unless Initiative itself ends and changes basic circumstances.
OOC: Fifth – Question for Casta: do you want to move an additional 5 feet south, since Sorore’s movement removes the difficult terrain constraint in that square? This would put you (and the Night Blade) immediately north of Fimrold.
OOC: Sixth – Tactical graphic to follow, assuming answer to the fifth matter above is "yes." That should cover it! Hope to avoid this in the future if possible, please; further slowing down PbP is best-avoided. Initiative passes immediately to Belmort!
Belmort moves 15 feet south to occupy the space in front of Rigor, and takes a defensive stance with a dodge action.
Occ: Sorry for the delay in my response, family responsibilities. I am going to try to hold the front until we can decide on a course of action as a group to extricate ourselves from this mess we are in.
Amidst the lethal conflict and tense exchanges between A Cuspide Corona and the Cultists of the Dead Three down in the gloom of the sewer tunnels, broken only by the fleeting glow of the torchlight and the divine, the indistinct sounds and tone of concerned voices approaches the large access gate to the west of Sorore...
"Prattle on, Sow of Helm," the ragged voice of the first, more calculating Necromite rasps as he separates from the shadows of the southern tunnel to stand at the ready behind the massive Fist of Bane blocking the company's advance, "while your lackeys bring our bodies. Your broken piglet returns to you between them, if they obey. Otherwise..." His voice slips into arcane mutterings, and a spectral claw forms from necrotic smoke gathering above his left hand, prepared to unleash...
Close behind him, the Fist of Bane who fled with Feldinor staggers bloody but spiteful from the darkness of the opposite side of the tunnel. The halfling is nowhere in sight, and the armored warrior's black-handed shield is replaced by a dark longbow, an arrow nocked and as ready to fire upon the adventurers as the Necromite's vile spell.
"Night Blade's working on the runt...getting creative. If he takes him, no mortal can keep pace, and they kill in the pitch dark..."
OOC: Feldinor, please roll your first death saving throw. Given your companions' inability to perceive your state, please make that roll within a dedicated PM between us, if you would. Good luck!
OOC: Adventurers, you should each have a Private Message (PM) that establishes a common distribution list to serve as the OOC Board Yokai references above.
OOC: Tactical graphic is inbound, with all of the recent developments. Murdoch, conscious once more, has the initiative!
Murdoch looks up from the floor. He stands, leaning heavily against the eastern wall, and grimly readies his crossbow.
OOC: Murdoch knows he's a better shot than negotiator. He's readied to fire on any enemy who attacks his companions, on the off chance case peace talks turn sour.
Fimrold moves 10ft S and casts Spare the Dying upon the fallen foe straddled by Rigor. He decides it would be best if he kept his mouth shut for the time being, and backs up 5ft N.
Rigor concurs again with Fimrold’s wisdom. Holding the limp but stabilized fallen Fist, he eases around Belmort’s strongpoint defense, and eases the body of the enemy to the floor. His eyes never leaving the Fist defending the tunnel mouth to the south, Rigor returns to his position right behind the dragonborn and draws his quarter staff.
OOC: Full 30’ of movement used due to difficult terrain. However this exchange goes, i think it needs to go fast.
As Rigor backs away, a shadowed figure separates almost seamlessly from the darkness surrounding him in the middle of the lower tunnel, completely concealed within black cloak and mask, revealed within the torchlight only by the long, wickedly curved dagger gleaming bright and blooded in one hand...and the unmoving form of Feldinor, held aloft by his hair, twisted in the grasp of the Night Blade's other...
"It lives by a bloody thread," the shrouded killer whispers in a hollow voice, "yet now blessed by the Lord of Murder's aura with tears to remember, until..." The Night Blade slowly turns the halfling's face into the guttering torchlight, revealing two small tear-shaped hollows of flesh removed from the side of Feldinor's face, rivulets of strangely thinned blood dripping from them like tiny streams of crimson water...
The torch-bearing Necromite staggers to the other side of the massive Fist of Bane guarding the intersection, and his choked, angered voice resumes as he stays his sorcerous, necrotic hand once more.
"Yes, we take this Dark Believer now, and then the halfling and the Night Blade exchanged as one, lest his brother grows creative..."
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers! First, a great thanks to both Fimrold and Rigor for "seizing the initiative," as it were, when they knew the action was theirs in the order! I knew that I needed to act quickly, however, as this Night Blade was one of those "mystery" initiative rolls that first appeared between Rigor and Yokai, the other of course being the Necromite with the torch. With that, Initiative does indeed now pass to Yokai, before returning to the foe!
Yokai huffs in disdain. He moves 10' south, catches a toe of his boot in a crevice on the side of the sewer, and jumps up towards the opening. He will proceed onto street level. Those below may hear the scraping of metal on the ground.
The sounds of Yokai's partial ascent up the narrow sewer shaft at the intersection, in the wake of his jump, echoes down the tunnel. Following the grate of steel across stone, the Warlock drops back down into the sewer, longsword now once again in-hand, and passes around Sorore heading west towards the iron gate.
The massive Fist of Bane defending the threshold of the larger tunnel to the south, never taking his eyes from the adventurers, crouches forward and lowers his red, black-handed shield over the fallen fist, then grasps him roughly by the edge of his bloody chain mail, pulling his body across the wet stones and dropping him into the broad sewer channel at his back. The heavily armored cultist then returns to his defensive stance, looking quickly to his right, and then beyond the dragonborn's defense to the Night Blade in Casta's hands.
“Next two at the same time,”he grates, mace and shield at the ready. “Better make it quick…the Dark Three hunger, and may overrule us...”
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! Apologies for the delay; Yokai and I had some further clarification to address on the retrieval of his well-placed longsword and egress, as noted above, and my own work demands then acquired a life of their own. With an updated tactical graphic to immediately follow, Sorore has the initiative, followed immediately by Casta and then Belmort!
She remains silent, and readies to cast her final spell of healing at a distance when Feldinor is in imminent risk of dying, from either the passing of time or the actions of the cultists.
OOC: So long as they don't find some way to betray us, I think we've chosen the "lesser of two evils" so far. We'll soon see!
Casta's words echo through the hollow chamber ... the children of Jergal."As the situation further unfolds while she continues to speak, Casta painfully realizes that the Cuspide Corona did not hear the one single stolen shriek today, but simply the most recent of the day's unanswered cries for salvation. Its not even high sun! Refugees ripe for the wicked blade. Souls uncounted are souls unmissed. They have already failed those taken. Lives will be sacrificed to the dead three tonight and there is nothing she or they can do about it. Nowhere they can rally to to bring deliverance. No path leads to liberation of Baldurian citizens or Eltural displaced they have already shed blood to reclaim. She is overcome with a cocktail of volatile emotions: Helplessness, Rage, Compassion, Claustrophobia, Betrayal, Inadequacy, and most of all ... Unworthiness.
At least one soul is not beyond help. She will swallow what she needs to swallow to achieve emancipation for the one. . . . Fool or no.
Vigilance is endurance. Vigilance is perseverance. Vigilance is Helm.
As she continues her monologue, which she already feels will end in failure, she plucks off an icon or symbol, if available, for later proof of this ill-winded clash.
Casta presses past the wall of security. The time for tactical wisdom has passed. The moment calls for leading with the heart. As she passes Fimrold, she gently nods as he secures the life to be traded away. She presses through Rigor and Belmort, glad that the front is secure and she risks only herself. When she finishes her already flat-falling proposal, she looks straight into the eyes of the Necrite Priest.
Casta pulls the unconscious body of the stabilized Night Blade to a near standing position, displaying her powerful strength, despite her slight build. "I redeem the soul of a sinner for the soul of a saint. In so doing, I sanctify the soul of this sinner."
She catches view of the newly engraved tears. She is shocked for a moment, staring at him until her eyes raise to the captor's cowled face.
"Bring him forth."
The scent in the air around her is flatly unidentifiable.
------------- Mechanically --------------------
Double move south. Free interact to pilfer symbol or icon from the wardrobe. Likely a pin or broach.
Casta peers over her right shoulder, glancing first down at the firm hand on her shoulder then up into eyes welling with wisdom from behind a red mask. She stands with spear poised for the impossible redemption shot but the hope of a superior resolution comes through the team. She is ready for this. She can do this. One mob arrested in a day. Is there room for another victory? There is always room for the word to cut more deeply than the sword. Verbo et Factis. Word and deed. Diplomacy and dialogue is sometimes the better peace than submission of all Evil to Justice in the immediate moment. Rigor and Yokai have the right of it. They are an inspiration amid crisis.
Prayer offered at the speed of Thought. “Helm be with me. By your power and vigilance. Help me protect those under my charge. Ama ut ameris.”
As Casta prays, her heritage manifests as she accepts the inspiration from Rigor, Yokai and, principally, her god Helm the Vigilant. Her prayers are heard. Helm is with her. She begins to glow around her armor like a limn of blessing, shining as a torch in the dim light, radiating bright light to 20’ and dim light another 20’ beyond that. Blood from her crushing wound now gleams crimson as it slowly flows. The air around her becomes filled with the fragrance of the Primrose, cool but sunny, sweet but slightly tangy like an orange candy.
She shouts down the hall.
“Followers of the Dead Three. Hands will stay. You have well served Myrkul, Bane and Bhall, masters of the Bone Throne, the children of Jergal. Yet here we clash equally. Are you utterly against trading two for two and meeting again when we have both fully prayed for guidance?”
------------------
Mechanics:
Introspection, prayer and cast light for narrative flavor. (No anticipated mechanical game effect)
Move 15' south (consuming 25' for difficult terrain). Incidental action to pick up object "Night Blade" Continue 5' more south to complete 30' of movement.
Roll Persuasion with advantage. 25
OOC: TO reflect Yokai's advantage, I reviewed negotiations tactics from a retired FBI negotiator. The trick was to work all 5 tips into a 12 second or less monologue vice a 30 min discussion.
OOC: https://business.linkedin.com/talent-solutions/blog/talent-connect/2019/5-negotiation-tactics-to-get-ahead-from-former-FBI-negotiator-Chris-Voss
------------------
OOC: Arrrrrgh. Nine with Advantage in this clutch is just soul crushing.
The rasp and clang of heavy armored footfalls ending in close, thick splashes heard earlier by the companions now resolves itself in the form of what appears to be yet another Fist of Bane, armored in chain mail, bearing a mace and a red shield covered in the Black Hand of Bane, a longbow slung across his wide sloping shoulders. He spits and sneers as he falls into an alert, defensive stance against the company’s further advance, and nods his head as he looks to his left and right, revealing a long scar down the left side of his face. The cultist turns toward the adventurers, looking back into the darkness towards Yokai, the source of the last, loud yell.
“Your math is shit, coward,” he darkly chuckles. “Never was just 'two,' and the last prize is long gone. Keep talking, let your rat bleed out…”
The Fist of Bane clashes his mace and shield together, raises his chin and sneers, taunting the adventurers to take him on...
OOC: Hail and well-met, adventurers! The intrigue of the circumstance thickens, perhaps? Only time will tell, yet precious little of it exists... Sorore has the initiative!
Sorore considers the Fist of Bane's spiteful words, to try and gain insight on the truthfulness of the numbers taken and the chance to recover them.
Insight: 13
"I see no time to barter over fading lives. This may help the return of our brave, foolish rogue."
Sorore moves around Murdoch into the entrance tunnel to step out of the way, and casts Spare the Dying upon the fallen Night Blade, uncertain if it's too late.
OOC: Well we'll see if I learn something from the skill check. I feel like too much bargaining will put Feldinor's death in the bargainers' hands, though. A "two evils" situation seems to be forming, where we need to figure out the lesser. My move uses 20 feet to go 10 feet south through Murdoch and 5 feet west.
OOC: Good Day Adventurers! Well, it would seem there’s a bit to untangle here. Casta’s enthusiastic, brilliant, and eloquent two-round action set went off before four entities ahead of her in initiative, Sorore and the Fist of Bane you’ve heard for the last two rounds and now seen among them. Not to worry, we’ll sort this out in the narrative, with a few matters to handle in the process…
OOC: First – The Fist of Bane acts as depicted in #344, following Yokai.
OOC: Second – The matter of resolving Sorore’s Insight check: 20. She perceives the Fist thinks he speaks truthfully.
OOC: Third – The status of the first fallen Night Blade, struck by Casta and Belmort, who would have had to make four death saving throws prior to her spellcasting: 33. It would appear from these results that the fallen Night Blade, while on the cusp of death, had in fact stabilized but definitely remained unconscious and incapacitated with 0 hit points.
OOC: Fourth – Casta acts as depicted in #343 for the first half of her actions, getting through her prayer, her casting, her recovery of the Night Blade, her movement, and her words through the word “Jergal.” She is committed to the rest of the Persuasion action through the next round, unless Initiative itself ends and changes basic circumstances.
OOC: Fifth – Question for Casta: do you want to move an additional 5 feet south, since Sorore’s movement removes the difficult terrain constraint in that square? This would put you (and the Night Blade) immediately north of Fimrold.
OOC: Sixth – Tactical graphic to follow, assuming answer to the fifth matter above is "yes." That should cover it! Hope to avoid this in the future if possible, please; further slowing down PbP is best-avoided. Initiative passes immediately to Belmort!
/OOC I would like to vote on an OOC board post where we can strategize, talk about leveling, and generally keep the main post clean.
Belmort moves 15 feet south to occupy the space in front of Rigor, and takes a defensive stance with a dodge action.
Occ: Sorry for the delay in my response, family responsibilities. I am going to try to hold the front until we can decide on a course of action as a group to extricate ourselves from this mess we are in.
Amidst the lethal conflict and tense exchanges between A Cuspide Corona and the Cultists of the Dead Three down in the gloom of the sewer tunnels, broken only by the fleeting glow of the torchlight and the divine, the indistinct sounds and tone of concerned voices approaches the large access gate to the west of Sorore...
"Prattle on, Sow of Helm," the ragged voice of the first, more calculating Necromite rasps as he separates from the shadows of the southern tunnel to stand at the ready behind the massive Fist of Bane blocking the company's advance, "while your lackeys bring our bodies. Your broken piglet returns to you between them, if they obey. Otherwise..." His voice slips into arcane mutterings, and a spectral claw forms from necrotic smoke gathering above his left hand, prepared to unleash...
Close behind him, the Fist of Bane who fled with Feldinor staggers bloody but spiteful from the darkness of the opposite side of the tunnel. The halfling is nowhere in sight, and the armored warrior's black-handed shield is replaced by a dark longbow, an arrow nocked and as ready to fire upon the adventurers as the Necromite's vile spell.
"Night Blade's working on the runt...getting creative. If he takes him, no mortal can keep pace, and they kill in the pitch dark..."
OOC: Feldinor, please roll your first death saving throw. Given your companions' inability to perceive your state, please make that roll within a dedicated PM between us, if you would. Good luck!
OOC: Adventurers, you should each have a Private Message (PM) that establishes a common distribution list to serve as the OOC Board Yokai references above.
OOC: Tactical graphic is inbound, with all of the recent developments. Murdoch, conscious once more, has the initiative!
Murdoch looks up from the floor. He stands, leaning heavily against the eastern wall, and grimly readies his crossbow.
OOC: Murdoch knows he's a better shot than negotiator. He's readied to fire on any enemy who attacks his companions, on the off chance case peace talks turn sour.
Fimrold moves 10ft S and casts Spare the Dying upon the fallen foe straddled by Rigor. He decides it would be best if he kept his mouth shut for the time being, and backs up 5ft N.
Rigor concurs again with Fimrold’s wisdom. Holding the limp but stabilized fallen Fist, he eases around Belmort’s strongpoint defense, and eases the body of the enemy to the floor. His eyes never leaving the Fist defending the tunnel mouth to the south, Rigor returns to his position right behind the dragonborn and draws his quarter staff.
OOC: Full 30’ of movement used due to difficult terrain. However this exchange goes, i think it needs to go fast.
As Rigor backs away, a shadowed figure separates almost seamlessly from the darkness surrounding him in the middle of the lower tunnel, completely concealed within black cloak and mask, revealed within the torchlight only by the long, wickedly curved dagger gleaming bright and blooded in one hand...and the unmoving form of Feldinor, held aloft by his hair, twisted in the grasp of the Night Blade's other...
"It lives by a bloody thread," the shrouded killer whispers in a hollow voice, "yet now blessed by the Lord of Murder's aura with tears to remember, until..." The Night Blade slowly turns the halfling's face into the guttering torchlight, revealing two small tear-shaped hollows of flesh removed from the side of Feldinor's face, rivulets of strangely thinned blood dripping from them like tiny streams of crimson water...
The torch-bearing Necromite staggers to the other side of the massive Fist of Bane guarding the intersection, and his choked, angered voice resumes as he stays his sorcerous, necrotic hand once more.
"Yes, we take this Dark Believer now, and then the halfling and the Night Blade exchanged as one, lest his brother grows creative..."
OOC: Good Evening, Adventurers! First, a great thanks to both Fimrold and Rigor for "seizing the initiative," as it were, when they knew the action was theirs in the order! I knew that I needed to act quickly, however, as this Night Blade was one of those "mystery" initiative rolls that first appeared between Rigor and Yokai, the other of course being the Necromite with the torch. With that, Initiative does indeed now pass to Yokai, before returning to the foe!
Yokai huffs in disdain. He moves 10' south, catches a toe of his boot in a crevice on the side of the sewer, and jumps up towards the opening. He will proceed onto street level. Those below may hear the scraping of metal on the ground.
The sounds of Yokai's partial ascent up the narrow sewer shaft at the intersection, in the wake of his jump, echoes down the tunnel. Following the grate of steel across stone, the Warlock drops back down into the sewer, longsword now once again in-hand, and passes around Sorore heading west towards the iron gate.
The massive Fist of Bane defending the threshold of the larger tunnel to the south, never taking his eyes from the adventurers, crouches forward and lowers his red, black-handed shield over the fallen fist, then grasps him roughly by the edge of his bloody chain mail, pulling his body across the wet stones and dropping him into the broad sewer channel at his back. The heavily armored cultist then returns to his defensive stance, looking quickly to his right, and then beyond the dragonborn's defense to the Night Blade in Casta's hands.
“Next two at the same time,” he grates, mace and shield at the ready. “Better make it quick…the Dark Three hunger, and may overrule us...”
OOC: Good Evening, adventurers! Apologies for the delay; Yokai and I had some further clarification to address on the retrieval of his well-placed longsword and egress, as noted above, and my own work demands then acquired a life of their own. With an updated tactical graphic to immediately follow, Sorore has the initiative, followed immediately by Casta and then Belmort!
Sorore remains in place, attempting to withdraw enough from the view of the enemies to effectively hide her continued presence around the corner.
Stealth: 11
She remains silent, and readies to cast her final spell of healing at a distance when Feldinor is in imminent risk of dying, from either the passing of time or the actions of the cultists.
OOC: So long as they don't find some way to betray us, I think we've chosen the "lesser of two evils" so far. We'll soon see!
Casta's words echo through the hollow chamber ... the children of Jergal." As the situation further unfolds while she continues to speak, Casta painfully realizes that the Cuspide Corona did not hear the one single stolen shriek today, but simply the most recent of the day's unanswered cries for salvation. Its not even high sun! Refugees ripe for the wicked blade. Souls uncounted are souls unmissed. They have already failed those taken. Lives will be sacrificed to the dead three tonight and there is nothing she or they can do about it. Nowhere they can rally to to bring deliverance. No path leads to liberation of Baldurian citizens or Eltural displaced they have already shed blood to reclaim. She is overcome with a cocktail of volatile emotions: Helplessness, Rage, Compassion, Claustrophobia, Betrayal, Inadequacy, and most of all ... Unworthiness.
At least one soul is not beyond help. She will swallow what she needs to swallow to achieve emancipation for the one. . . . Fool or no.
Vigilance is endurance. Vigilance is perseverance. Vigilance is Helm.
As she continues her monologue, which she already feels will end in failure, she plucks off an icon or symbol, if available, for later proof of this ill-winded clash.
Casta presses past the wall of security. The time for tactical wisdom has passed. The moment calls for leading with the heart. As she passes Fimrold, she gently nods as he secures the life to be traded away. She presses through Rigor and Belmort, glad that the front is secure and she risks only herself. When she finishes her already flat-falling proposal, she looks straight into the eyes of the Necrite Priest.
Casta pulls the unconscious body of the stabilized Night Blade to a near standing position, displaying her powerful strength, despite her slight build. "I redeem the soul of a sinner for the soul of a saint. In so doing, I sanctify the soul of this sinner."
She catches view of the newly engraved tears. She is shocked for a moment, staring at him until her eyes raise to the captor's cowled face.
"Bring him forth."
The scent in the air around her is flatly unidentifiable.
------------- Mechanically --------------------
Double move south. Free interact to pilfer symbol or icon from the wardrobe. Likely a pin or broach.
Belmort remains in position and continues his dodge action to hold a defense while the exchange is happening.
occ:: I am very sorry for the delay in my post.