Assuming Valette does here something, she comes to the rapid conclusion that it's probably Rav and her other new 'friends.' Obviously, saying that would be a bad plan, so she goes for a bit of creative misdirection:
"Can't say that I do... Stupid human ears. Perhaps we'd best get a move on? Or maybe it would be beneficial to see who else is interested in these documents."
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
Colour- Sargeant Bourne calling the roll after the battle' "Hitch! Where are you? I've seen you, lad. You're alive."
Private Hitch; "I am? Oh, thank you very much."
There aren't really excuses required for a Zulu moment- except that I'm a sleep deprived, jittery, caffeine fuelled neurotic at the best of times. Like most of SDN, I suspect...
Anyway, the elf is not convinced. He mutters 'In a matter this serious we must expect quality from our opponents. When I say, go by the door and make loud noises.'
He opens a pouch, pulls out a strong, thin cord and two throwing knives, throws the knives at the wall either side of the window and flicks the line at them, it catches on them and wraps round- near- instant trap. of course, he has to arm it.
He plans to sling something looking like a boomerang made of frosted green glass with something sloshing around inside from the cord, has it in his hand- when Rav uses her mystic ninja type powers (Martial Arts: Guile) to phase through the wall.
She tries to grab his hand and squeeze, to crush the boomerang, and punch him in the gut (to make him draw breath) with the other hand; he manages to prevent her doing that, grabs her wrist, they struggle for a moment- and then it's Valette's combat action, and what is she doing?
Kheitain, the inhabitants of the temple are not entirely comfortable with your being there- in fact, 'panic' would be fair comment. The garden has been well looked after- apart from some recent ash fall, but that couldn't really be helped. There are a couple of bare plots where flowers were removed for vegetables, for what little good that'll do this late in the season.
It's actually dark, but there is moon and star light, and a plant's still a plant in the dark. (although obviously at a different stage of it's rhythms). The gardeners and other people have vanished- run away- and through the side door they left by, a couple of minutes later, the covering party emerge. A dozen armed humans, four women and eight men.
Their leader seems to be the one in the liquid metal bodysuit, Safrac recognises Mathilde- and notices (human perception) that she seems unusually subdued- she's either having a very bad day, or just received very bad news, or both.
Her team spread out in pairs, moving to encircle Kheitain, she's slightly ahead of them- shields raised but no weapons drawn, yet, but for Krylanyans that doesn't mean much. They probably haven't realised the guardian's intelligent yet.
I knew not having a nonlethal weapon would come back to bite me... Valette draws her sword, steps toward Rav and the other elf, pretending to be aiming for Rav, and stabs the other elf in the back.
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
With little better to do Safrac simply watches the creature as it samples the soil and moves ever closer to his cell's window. Eventually he moves close, nearly pressing his face into the bars but holding up just short. The ork prisoner knows little of constructs, but this doesn't seem to be their usual behavior so he moves a bit closer to the window.
Just as he moves forward a group of temple guards lead by what is so far his favorite member of the church moves in and surrounds it. They don't draw weapons yet, but he knows that a wrong move could end badly for them, the construct or both and he'd rather not see any of those outcomes. He doesn't want to shout so he waves to Mathilde to hopefully get her attention.
Assuming that she looks he says, "I don't think it's going to harm anybody. It seems lost, and... curious."
School requires more work than I remember it taking...
Baerne, (after some dice rolling)- what happens, Valette goes to attack him, Rav holds him in place forthe blow- they wrestle, he tries to swing Rav round into the way of the dagger, fails; he's wearing armour, some kind of exotic animal hide tougher than cowskin, the dagger doesn't bite very deeply- but enough to put him off balance, and let Rav crush the boomerang in his hand and wave it under his nose.
His eyeballs roll back in his head, she tumbles back, grabs Valette and hustles her out of the door, closing it behind them- and, Valette notices, holding her breath. Valette got just a whiff of what was in the boomerang- some kind of stun gas. Not a full dose, enough to leave her dizzy and sick for a moment.
Rav caught some of it too, but she shakes it off faster, and says 'You are ridiculously lucky, and he still gave far too much away. This business is important to them, important enough to blow all professional caution out of that one's head- we can ask him all about it when he comes round, but he won't have been alone. Cover my back.' She starts for the corridor, and to creep down the stairs.
She notices, and says to Safrac 'From behind a nice safe wall I can see how you might think that...from here it looks more frightened than anything else. And it's not human made, what's it been doing? Gardening? Good, that can be made to work for us.'
'Wait there.' she says to her team, and advances cautiously, on her own, trying not to spook it, (although obviously she's unaware of the guardian's phobias and metal doesn't get more worked than her bodysuit)- and tries a little test. An act of divine magic- an imaginary flower (and she's straining the definitions of the power quite badly ot do this), where one wasn't before, a coiled rose. Apparently just materialising. How does the guardian gholem react?
"I suppose you have a point, I'd just hate to see a potential resource wasted. It sure looks like it's strong enough when it wants to be," says the Ork as he waits to see what will unfold.
School requires more work than I remember it taking...
Valette follows Rav, after taking a second glance at the elf to make sure he actually is sedated.
Unrelated note; I have seen Zulu, it's one of my favorite movies of all time.
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
Metal armoured soldiers, shimmering bodysuite and then a rose that registers only to his eyes. They all seem out of place, but not directly threatening at the same time. Unnerved by everything though they havn't done anything to directly require his intervention he decides to keep his backto the wall and leap straight up. Keeping his eyes on the soldiers he reaches backwards with all four limbs looking for a handhold, should he find one he'll keep flipping up the side of the wall untill sitting a comfortable 30' (about 9 meters) straight above them. Should he not he'll just use the wall to push off of so he can leap over and behind them and no longer be surrounded.
Are the people on this board more comfortable with imperial or metric measurements or should I just keep posting in both?
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
Generally speaking, being as how the science/engineering influence runs deep, expect to have a shitfit thrown at you for failing to use metric units- especially if the other person doesn't understand common usage and takes their frustration out on you instead.
On the other hand, writing the system I was going for a more medieval feel, so it's pounds and yards- I really should have gone back all the way to rods, perches and poles, pecks and bushels, but nobody (including me) would have understood it.
Melisande tries something; she crouches, and her suit lifts itsef slightly off her body, spiking and billowing outards, hardening into an outer shell that looks very much like a mirror image of the guardian. At the same time she tries to project a sense that things are calm here, there is no fighting, this is a place of tranquility, it's worse outside the walls.
The occasional clang and thud of training- and her own evident nervous tension, she's putting a good look on it but you can tell- give the lie to that. She follows, matching pace- and the wall's only 15ft high, anyway.
Baerne, the door isn't airtight, but it's still keeping in most of the gas- which is actually starting to curl out below the door, and it would be a good idea to move. Opening the door to check on him and getting a lungful wouldn't help.
Rav vanishes within moments, flickering out of sight as she slides through a patch of shadow; Valette continues gingerly down the stairs- then sees a grey blur leap at her.
(My dice continue to be exceptionally strange- parry, critical success. Countermove, dice rolls were 2 against 18.) There's a brief clash of blades almost too fast for Valette to follow despite actually being in it, a thud, and there's an elvish longsword embedded in one of the tables.
Valette's still trying to work out what happened when two blurs go out of the door, a pale grey blur followed by a dark blue and dark grey blur. What now?
The only purpose in my still being here is the stories and the people who come to read them. About all else, I no longer care.
Seeing a metalic version of himself proves too much to handle. Deciding that abomination or not she has not yet violated anything natural directly and so does not require his direct intervention, but she also needs to go away. He calls on the stone she (or the suit, whichever actually followed me up) is standing on to grow at a near explosive rate, hopefully throwing his pursuer. He then vaults from the other side of the wall and begins looking for a better place to survey the area.
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
Valette dashes to the door, to see if the blurs are moving slowly enough/causing enough of a disturbance to follow. If they are, she does, if not, she'll take a look at that longsword, to see if there's anything interesting about it, and then rejoin Randolf and Lady Carlotta.
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
I can think of very few polite things to say about BT right now, damn' broadband hub just crashed and ate a post- scum that they are. This might be fairly short.
Anyway, Kheitain- you're rapidly closing down Melisande's available options. The gholem's behaving more like an instinct- driven mechanical animal than an innocent, at least to her; mimicry drew no positive reaction, trying to communicate drew no reaction, trying to contain the gholem drew a negative reaction- besides, she's a senior paladin of the goddess of war. Preference for tactful solutions is one thing, but if she doesn't resort to hitting things soon, people are going to start thinking she's lost her touch.
Trying to knock her off her balance doesn't work very well; the rock grows- at the bewildering, blinding rate (for geology) of about a foot a second. She's a better athlete than the gholem is a geologist.
The suit flows back to closely fitting again, apart from the greatsword blade she's now projecting. 'Follow me,' she sas to her templars, and pursues the gholem- on the other side of the wall is one of the alleys between temple cmpounds. It's fairlysheltered, and there are lots of people there- the gholem manages by a minor miracle not to land on and kill anyone, but that's a tent and a shack destroyed, and several people starting to panic, a couple of them going for weapons.
Valette watches them chase each other briefly, but then they start playing hide and seek around the chimneys, with lethal intent. There's the odd flash of magic, but noth are too fast, too evasive, and too nasty for it to be safe catching up with them.
The elvish blade isn't enchanted, but it is hammered and folded, at least three different metals in there, hilt and handguard engraved- might be worth something.
Lady Carlotta's getting increasingly confused and frightened by the whole business- "Safe havens for spies, secret forests? Places where no writ runs, and my father- I don't understand it any more. I...I just don't." Her tied and bggled brain registers oen thign she can do, and she starts heading upthe stairs to deal with the poison- gassed elf. Letting her do that might not be entirely wise. What does Valette do?
The only purpose in my still being here is the stories and the people who come to read them. About all else, I no longer care.
I'm a little short on options myself as short of starting a forest fire I don't think she could freak the poor bugger out more, the imitation makes sense from her point but definetly not to my characters. I'm trying to find an excuse to speak to someone while still remaining in character. Whatever scared him so badly in the woods to drive him into a city, and then immediately being confronted with an animated metal version of himself and strange magic I can only think he'd react with fear and hit it or run.
"Leave me alone!" he manages to barks out in his strange thrumming voice as he lands on the shack. Is there an entrance of some kind anywhere? a large window up the side of a building or a door he might fit through? Perhaps a way back to that strange Ork that seemed to be the most natural thing in this place? It at least knew that the guardian was only lost. If there's anything in view he's going to head towards it.
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
Grabbing the sword, Valette taps Lady Carlotta on the shoulder.
"Ah, you might not want to do that - The room's full of some kind of poison gas, and if he wakes up - the elf, I mean, - I won't be able to deal with him. It took Rav and the element of surprise before."
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
Melisande says, with her people moving to suround the gholem, 'So you do talk...and you're obviously elvish.' She thinks about it for a moment, and says 'Do you understand lions? Territorial animals. What do you think happens when a stranger from another species, a juvenile at that, encroaches on the pack's territory? Do you think it gets to be left alone?' she shakes her head. 'I am the local alpha, and you are the intruder. Are you going to yield quietly, or do I have to find out whether you're edible? Get back over that wall.'
Body language- her outer layer is very useful for that, it gives aff the signals she wants it to give off, and relatively few of the crowd (Which she's playing to, largely) are all that adept at reading it. Her gestures and pose aren't as threatening as her words- she's trying to signal 'it's going to be all right.' She could, of course, be lying, but there are green things there and there's not much else green for a long way. Besides, the hideous scary thing that drove you this way is still out there, and it might be good to have some other scary things between you and it.
Baerne, Carlotta reacts quite badly to that- 'An elf, poisons- could he be one of those who killed my father? I'll see if he ever wakes up again, I-' Valette manages to hold her back, and manages not to accidentally slice her in the process with the sword she's holding, then she relises what she said and was about to do and collapses into one of the chairs. 'You'd better see to him beofre he wakes up, if he's that dangerous.' one of the guards at the door says, and two of them offer to help.
The only purpose in my still being here is the stories and the people who come to read them. About all else, I no longer care.
Okay, first of all, an apology for not posting. Sorry.
Okay, so de Andorra is being used to run a message to De Novara. Seeing as how he wasn't escorted, that gives him to chance to talk candidly with de Novara on the situation at the temple. He explains his employment at the temple of the goddess, and his efforts to work his way inwards in the system. Most importantly, he gives a brief description of Safrac's involvement and the request. After this he asks a question.
"I think I can prove myself to be valuable, and Mathilde seems to have taken a liking to me. I suspect that soon I will be placed in a position of somewhat trust. How do you suggest I use this best?"
Coyote: Warm it in the microwave first to avoid that 'necrophelia' effect.
Novara is pleasantly surprised by that, but goes into some detail afterwards.
'I would say that the most important thing you can do for the first few days is watch and learn. She is- she has my respect as a professional rival, at least. And I'm astonished that she's functional. I took my own advice- would that the Count had done the same- and lost little, but she should be as badly mentally scarred as anyone.
She had been playing the virgin queen, dancing with half a dozen suitors- and profiting from the situation in each and every case- when she herself fell for the count's middle son, Bartheleme'. At least, apparently did. You can never really tell with Krylanyans.
I think it started as just another game, and grew serious- an interesting political dance, and she stood a good chance of being our next or next- but-one countess. We found him essentially painted over one of the few walls of the count's castle still standing.
Between that, general survivor's guilt, the problems facing her and everyone else's personal problems which trickle down to her, the Striking Phoenix' commander, she's doing well to be up and walking around. She'll never show weakness where anyone can see it, she'll mourn in private, but...
She'll probably try to cope by throwing herself into her work, and if you had asked me about her a month ago I would have said she was a scheming, devious, treacherous, manipulative two- faced bitch. Which she would have taken as a compliment, and rightly so.
Bringing du Lauloy down serves her ends, no doubt about that, and she's empire building, but better even that than du Lauloy remain in charge. Follow her in that for the time being- later on you can start scheming against her, which for the Krylanyans would represent business as usual and probably help cheer her up.
Actually, there's probably going to be some scheming against her as is. She planted you with Theresa? That fits. Keep an eye on her; at least Mattie enjoys herself doing this, or did. There's a sour streak running through dame Theresa.
I'll see if I can round up a healer. Elves and druids both are not exactly renowned for coming when they're called, undoubtedly I'll have to owe them something. For this political opportunity it would be cheap at the price, but finding one who doesn't realise that is going to be the hard part.'
The only purpose in my still being here is the stories and the people who come to read them. About all else, I no longer care.
"You're not a lion..." he mutters as he lets the moisture out of his vocal cords.
The gholem backs up and leaps up the wall, swinging across the top and hanging by one foot from the other side. He crosses his arms and just swings there while he tries to figure out what to do...
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
There are too many eyes on her, she's made this public, there are too many of her own pushy subordinates present to heckle- and she's tired of giving away chances.
Mathilde snarls back 'No, I'm not- I have bigger claws.' She (crits on athletics, opposed by a 6- good but not good enough)- leaps at the wall, flips herself (assisted by the magic of the goddess and the flowing metal of the suit) on her hands to arrive at the top of the wall feet first, slamming into the gholem and knocking them both off the wall back into the garden.
She and the guardian both land in a tumbling heap, leaving a gouge in the soil and killing half a flowerbed. She rolls away and takes stance, the metal thins out and extends into a greatsword blade again, glowing green veins embedded in it- a blessing.
Golems don't take damage normally; the wound procedure is different for constructs. Inorganic damage, the same as it takes to break a door or a shield, it's a flat points system- weapons do a given amount, things can take a given amount before they're wrecked. Most swords don't do ID at all, polearms don't, axes and maces of sufficient weight do.
A two- handed sword does have enough mass and momentum behind it to hurt, more so a blessed one. No more chances. What's the guardian gholem's action?
I suppose I should make two posts in one at this point. Just to clarify he was backing up to the wall he had just leapt over and was hanging down in front of Safracs prison window, Norade tells me I wasn't exactly clear enough on which wall. Sorry about the confusion if that's what happened. If we are trying to get a fight started I've prepared my response to being attacked. Otherwise I'll be hanging by Safracs window waiting for the strange lady to come back.
The guardian rolls to his feet and uses his right arm to help get himself up to speed charging Melisande. He brings his left out right to left, fist up almost at 90 degrees trying to force contact between the sword or her wrists and his left forearm. If she tries to backpedal he'll snap his fist out for a weak backhand. If contact is made he'll continue into a bit of a spin, grabbing for her left hand/forearm with his right slighting is right foot forewards and his left back so their arms are pretty much parrallel, and then pivot 180 degrees.
Trust me on that one, it's a lot nicer to be thrown that to fight it (providing he actually does manage to grab her) if the person throwing you is nice it just hyperextends you a bit and hurts alot, if they aren't something is going to break.
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
Apologies first for the confusion of character names- it should be Mathilde, not Melisande. Melisande is someone entirely different, a Nulandrini sorceress-necromancer who tried (and failed, and was punished by her own system for her failure) to kidnap one of the characters' souls for intelligence purposes. A much nastier personality, be glad it's not her.
And yes, I thought you were on- had actually gone over and had been knocked back from- the outer wall. Not trying to get a fight started, but the NPC is suppressing a lot and would quite like something to take her anger and grief out on.
Actually, that makes most of the last few posts make no sense at all- Mathilde was operating on the assumption that it was the outer wall and the guardian was therefore a danger to the public (capabilities, not intent) that she had to do something about. Still thinks that, in fact.
Reconstructing that, you're both in the garden, near the cell (inner) wall, she's formed the two- handed blade and is squaring off against the gholem, who is retreating back aginst the wall next to Safrac's cell. There's some strange magic going on in there, too complicated for a simple hit-it-harder enchantment;
she steps forward as if into the attack, (dice happen)- in pure rules mechanic terms, the situation is actually in the gholem's favour. Taking ID means no variable severity of wound, means she needs to land ten, eleven hits maybe (ID 3 from that weapon when properly enchanted)- she's made of flesh and is liable to be wound- levelled out after two or three.
She's damned good with that sword, she can land those hits, but it's the footwork to avoid being hit in return that's the problem; that is a much more even contest and she needs to be lucky, a lot, to make this work.
And she knows it, which is why she's gone for a more elegant solution. She steps forward into the attack, sidestepping wide and usign the length of the blade to keep clear, moving it under the gholem's outstretched arm and shedding the complex web of light on him- it's a mental attack.
Not well resisted, unfortunately. Misery, Battle-sense, Deception, Command; you're here in a horribly hostile environment, surrounded by armed maniacs with no clean way out, it's all hopeless and horrible, and you badly need a friend, so sit down and tell me all about it.
Safrac sees the fight breaking out slams a fist into his cell wall as hard as he can and yells out, "Mathilde, stop that! We could use a being such as this, if it can grow stone that fast then we could rebuild the city swiftly and I could get on with my job. Even if it won't help us do you honestly think it was aiming to hurt anybody?"
School requires more work than I remember it taking...
Or fortunately not well resisted. The implications of getting into a fight with a senior paladin I think would be worse than the fight itself.
The gholem stumbles back unused to such an attack. Usually he drops on spellcasters from above, they make better missiles than they do opponents. He slumps back against the wall and sits down, fidgeting with whatever little vines or grasses are growing from between the rocks (cobblestones? not sure what the surface is). He tells his story complete from his creation to his finishing of the initial task as if it's his first status report in his odd, long winded fashion. "Then you hit me," he finishes with a hurt accusatory stare as he struggles to get back up.
Walking isn't a lost art - one must, by some means, get to the garage. ~Evan Esar
'It's all right,' Mathilde says to Safrac, 'you were correct to begin with, it was just lost and confused. Now,' she says to the gholem, 'I didn't hit you very hard- I'm sorry, but you're all right now. Will you stay here for a while where it's safe, and green, and there are few people?'
The surface is grass with occasional pebble and gravel paths, arranged rock settings and flowerbeds; it's normally used as a tranquility garden and occasional training ground.
Backtracking if the answer is no, but on the assumption of sense, Mathilde leaves the gholem there for a moment, closes the door in the temple wall behind her, posts a note saying 'off limits' scratched into a tablet hung from the door, and heads for Safrac's cell.
'An interesting creation, but unfortunately we're back to square one with the magic. I had hoped to trap it and wait for it's master or creator to turn up, and strike some kind of bargain with them as to healing you; but it has no master, it's probably on the run in fact- and it seems to have attached itself to you.
I don't know what to do with it.' She admits. 'It's a combat construct, that's probably what it was built for, but it doesn't think like one- never got the personality matrix for the job, possibly. Most people looking at it are going to see it as a threat. I did. Still not sure, in fact- it could do a lot of damage if it put it's mind to it.
It could do some good, but there's so much needing done- it would be a factor, but there's so much more than one being's work to do. I suppose we just wait for an elf and-'
There's a knock on the door, then it opens. One of her personal guard. 'Dame Mathilde, there's an elf at the front gate. I think it's him.'
'Not the elf I wanted to see. If you can, I'd recommend hiding.' she says to Safrac, as she turns to go and deal with this unwelcome elf.
Since our resident posions expert seems to have dropped off the map, Valette's choices are a bit limited here. She goes to see if there's any way she can tell if the gas is wearing off, and if so, how long it will be before the elf wakes up.
Conversion Table:
2000 Mockingbirds = 2 Kilomockingbirds
Basic Unit of Laryngitis = 1 Hoarsepower
453.6 Graham Crackers = 1 Pound Cake
1 Kilogram of Falling Figs - 1 Fig Newton
Time Between Slipping on a Banana Peel and Smacking the Pavement = 1 Bananosecond
Half of a Large Intestine = 1 Semicolon
