LucianV
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Posts posted by LucianV
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Gilbert Percy Gilane a.k.a The Crimson
Gilbert's expression changed to one of unexpected fascination as he listened to Kelly. "I have oft espoused the notion that the transformation of Mr. Paxton into a cultured gentleman remains a conceivable endeavor. A delicate alchemy of refinement and cultivation to be sure; certainly an undertaking not bereft of challenges. And in this present moment, we stand at the brink of his metamorphosis, witnessing the imminent transformation from a humble crawling caterpillar into the resplendent wings of a beautiful butterfly." Gilbert raised the shot glass that had been refilled while he was eating toward his somewhat sour companion. "Fortune and fortitude to the grandmother from which you acquired your namesake. There is hope for you yet, Kelly." A sly grin crept over his lips as he gave Kelly a playful wink and took another shot., smacking his lips as he savored the sweet coffee flavored liquor and the burn of fine whiskey.
It was Heretic's question that gave him pause. This little game they played had let them roam topics far and wide, and always to the strangest of places. He tucked his little tidbit away, mentally putting a red pin in the geographic location of San Helios in his mind. That had never one of the more probable areas he suspected, but there was a small bit of excitement in the consideration of what remained. Of all the things Gilbert loved, a good mystery was his favorite. Heretic's question was certainly not an easy one, nor one Gilbert had ever really stopped to ponder before. But that was what made Heretic such an interesting person to have around. There were few perspectives that operated so far outside Gilbert's expectations. "While I lack the preponderance of knowledge on the subject as a mathematician or philosopher, I offer alternative perspective rooted in the esoteric realms of alchemy and arcane scholarship: One might argue that numbers are the ethereal offspring of mortal cognition, conceived to encapsulate the patterns inherent in the cosmos. Yet, consider this: Numbers are the ink with which is inscribed the poetry of the universe. We did not forge numbers; we unearthed them. Just as fire existed in the embrace of nature rather than springing into being at the hands of mankind, so too are numbers like the building blocks of reality itself." He sat for a moment staring into the middle distance as if assessing the validity of his own words. After a brief moment of silence and stillness, he gave a nod of accent, clearly finding his own explanation satisfactory.
For the first time since he raised a glass in toast, Gilbert actually looked at everyone assembled. Or rather, the lack of everyone suddenly assembled. "It appears that our proclivity for delving into abstract inquiries might have, regrettably, caused a temporary exodus among the fairer members of our assembly. Shall we go investigate Tak's claim, or simply bask in the endless wellspring of whiskey that seems to keep conjuring itself into my glass?" Even has he spoke, Esme had moved back to refill their drinks, much to Gilbert's delight. "Or perhaps we turn our attentions back to Kelly. Regale us once more with the exhilarating tale of the most captivating bounty you ensnared before joining our esteemed company."
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I hope everything is okay...
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Gilbert Percy Gilane a.k.a The Crimson
Unaware or uninterested in what was going on at the bar (it was impossible to tell with him), Gilbert flashed Zen a sheepish grin and gave her a nod. "Your flattery, while undeserved, is greatly appreciated my dear Zen. SOME PEOPLE..." Gilbert turned to look directly at Peggy but her attention was somewhere else entirely, so he merely gave her a dismissive wave. "...in their unyielding candor, would remark that my diction is more of a bane than a boon. But it does assuage my soul to know there are those assembled that share my affection for grandiose affectation. The most satisfying genre of tumescence has always been, in my opinion, of the intellectual variety. Which is in no small part a compelling reason for my continued association with this distinguished consortium. That and the invariable success we've encountered chasing the allure of pecuniary prospects."
Half the group seemed to be paying attention elsewhere, so it was finally time for Gilbert's favorite game. He rubbed his hands together in excitement before pulling a small leather notebook from a pocket. "With yet another successful foray concluded, the time has arrived for our perennial game to resume, dear Heri." Everyone knew that while Gilbert had a sharp memory, outside of missions where it mattered, he only ever addressed Heretic as 'Heri', as though he couldn't be bothered to learn every new name their shapeshifting companion came up with. "Pray, enlighten us with the name of a town that, by the whims of fate, did not witness the bloom of your formative years." They all knew Gilbert loved a challenge, and ever since Heretic had joined them, Gilbert had made it his personal mission to uncover his mysterious companions identity...one question at a time. And so, after every adventure, they were both allowed to ask a single question that must be answered truthfully, but couldn't be directly about them.
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Gilbert Percy Gilane a.k.a The Crimson
There were three things every person in San Muerte knew to be unequivocal truths. First, the Wastes were a dangerous place. Second, the Big Score was the only place for in a two week's journey that didn't water down the whisky. And Third, Gilbert Percy Gilane was always late; the man only had one speed, and it was his own.
A diminutive figure stepped through the front entrance of the Big Score, a book held up in front of him. "Evenin' Mr. Gilane." The doorman said, tipping the too small bowler hat he wore on his bald head. Gilbert's forward momentum was arrested a the sound of his name, and he looked up, finally noticing the man that had held the door open for him. "Ah. Why thank you, Terrance. You're a gentleman and a scholar, and there are only two of us left." Gilbert was about to move on, but he paused, shaking the book at the bigger man. "Permit me, if you will, to extend inquiries regarding the esteemed matriarch of your familial lineage. I recall the recounting of an ailment. Influenza, was it not?"
"Ah...Yep. Right you are Mr. Gilane. Mums been doing very well, thank you for asking. And she very much enjoyed the apples."
"The age-old aphorism maintains its resonance: An apple a day, does indeed serve as a formidable deterrent against the unwarranted attentions of medical practitioners. Also, they were in season."
Slipping the book under one arm, Gilbert gave Terrance a wave and moved at a casual amble toward the bar. Despite the heavier than usual crowd milling about, groups parted before him without so much as a word or gesture, allowing him to make his way through the haze of cigar smoke and cheap perfume with ease.
"Good evening Ed." Gilbert gave both the barman a nod of respect.
"Mr. Gilane. Groups already at the usual table. Peggy was just here." Ed said and gave a nod off to one side.
Gilbert leaned in conspiratorially, giving furtive glances in both directions as he lowered his voice. "Excellent. May I indulge in a query regarding the disposition of that parcel entrusted into Silas' care? The contents therein bear a certain gravity, and I find myself seized by a curiosity as to their current whereabouts and, dare I say, condition."
"Of course! We have it in the safe upstairs. Do you want me to have it fetched for you?" Gilbert gave a dismissive nod and the man shook his head. "Alright then. You want your usual?" Ed went back to stocking the shelves under the bar as he waited for a response.
"I'd be much obliged. And thank you for your discretion in this matter." Two shot glasses hit the table, Ed deftly pouring the libations from two different bottles into each one. Gilbert picked up the first and tipped it back without hesitation, taking the second to the table where his companions were gathered.
Always one to abide by social protocols, Gilbert gave a nod to each of the ladies at the table before taking a seat between Heretic and Peggy. He took a long moment to consider the new facade before breaking into a toothy smile. He set both the shot and the book on the table, then pushed his round spectacles a bit further up his hawkish nose. "I must admit the sense of jubilation is rather infectious as I witness my constituents all in such high spirits. Let us culminate our most recent endeavor with triumphant 'huzzah', as it were." Gilbert raised the other shot glass, then shot it back without waiting for the others.
Before he could continue, a plate with wrapped silverware and second, yellow dipping sauce were placed on the table. Gilbert looked up with a gracious smile to see Esme, the other of their regular servers giving the group a warm smile. "Esme, you are truly a gem." He turned back to the others as he unwrapped his silverware and tucked the napkin into the collar of his shirt. "While I'm acutely aware that the denizens of the western Wastes may hold an ardent affinity for chili sauce, permit me to gently proffer a divergent gastronomic perspective. The quintessential manner of indulging in skink, my esteemed companions, involves none other than the exquisite embrace of huancaina sauce. In this regard, I express my heartfelt gratitude to the discerning Esme, who, with utmost sagacity, caters to the refined palates among us, offering the sublime culinary accoutrements that elevate our dining experience." Using the fork, he picked up one of the pieces of fried skink and placed it on his plate, before slicing it into smaller pieces.
Gilbert dipped a single bite into the superior sauce and brought it to his lips, looking around the table expectantly.
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Hi!
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That...is an excellent question. My answer: Sheer ignorance.
I do tend to try and stack my numbers as hard as I can, as anyone who has played with me knows, I roll TERRIBLY. But, I def have room to purchase and have both, and for the moment, snowball actually seems like it would be better, since I could take intensify instead of reach metamagic (which was going to be my 9th level pick anyway, assuming we get there).Thanks for the advice, I truly appreciate it! I'll def make those edits tonight or tomorrow and if you see anything else like that, please do let me know.
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10 hours ago, Taggerung559 said:
We'll just have to hope somebody has access to monkeyfish (which is a surprisingly handy spell for how funny the name is).
Not only does Gilbert have access to the spell, but it is currently in this spellbook!
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It has been quite some years since we've crossed paths, hasn't it, Starhawk? I hope the weave has been treating you well. And to all the people I don't know yet, hello!
I'm definitely down to have closer ties to the rest of the group, I'll take a look at everyone's sheets tomorrow and toss out some suggestions as well.
As for Zen, I think having crossed paths with Gilbert via prospecting makes a lot of sense (you'd be able to pick up Peggy there as well, since the two have worked together a lot). I'll try to give it some thought this weekend too and see if I can come up with anything you like. -
11 hours ago, Penchant said:
No, sorry I completely messed up that reply. I mean that it definitely does increase your sneak attack because you are using the multiclass and don't get full sneak attack (1 for every two levels). So you can take it at 7th level when you get sneak attack and get a 1d6 bump.
Sorry, I was cooking curry and replying from my phone :)
But actually, take it at 9th, since VMCs eat your 7th level feat, right? (asking for my own sanity, since I've never used that variant before and want to make sure I did it right)
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Gilbert Percy Gilane a.k.a The Crimson
Words
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just going to reserve this for notes and such
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 17 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 3/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 3/3 | Channel Divinity 1/1 | Harness Power 1/1
Iymbryl silently walked through the crowded church. People were packed in from nave to pulpit; the heavy pews stacked against the back wall to make more room. To the guard captain, it looked and smelled more like a refugee camp than a place of worship. He took stock of what looked to be the worst of the injuries, offering people words of encouragement while he placed an inconspicuous hand on those that needed healed without drawing attention to himself. Most of the citizens had gotten away with only minor cuts and bruises, though some looked worse than when he had after the battle with the wyvern rider. It wasn't long before his meager powers were spent, though he couldn't help but feel guilty for not being able to do more.
He returned to the rest of the group a short while later, most of them already beginning to nod off. His eyes danced about the room, falling on his companions one by one. It had always seemed such a strange thing, sleep. He'd always considered it a great disadvantage. Not only were their lives so short, but they spent so much of it unaware. But now, in this time of troubles, Iymbryl couldn't help but envy the numbness that must come with being able to step away from their problems for so long. In retrospect, his trance was nothing short of a retelling of the horrors they had faced the day before. He studied their encounters from different angles and embraced his many failings, contemplating on how to do better next time. Iymbryl had failed the city, he'd failed his companions, and he'd failed his people; but at least they had all made it. As long as everyone was alive, they could always strive to do better tomorrow.
His eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the darkness of the room. He could see the still outlines of his allies, one of them snoring like a dragon. Despite the rest, he found himself wearier than before he had rested. There was much to do, and little time to do it. Iymbryl stood up, wrapped his cloak around himself and made his way out of the church.
The streets were empty, but they were anything but peaceful. It felt like something intangible had fallen over the city, slowly choking the life out of it. There were no patrols on the streets, but he could see the fires on the wall in the distance. Not being there himself almost felt like he was deserting, but the guard captain reminded himself that what they were doing was saving lives, perhaps the city itself. While wandering about, he found a few people huddled in the still smoking remains of their home and directed them toward the temple. He helped a merchant push his wagon out of a rut in the road, and scolded a few children for being out past curfew, escorting them back to their parents who had been beside themselves with worry. It was then that he stumbled upon one of his favorite bakeries in the city, Pantero's. Despite the chaos, Emrita wasn't just open, but baking up a storm in the back. Looking at the shelves once lined with the most delicate pastries, Iymbryl was both saddened and elated to see she had started baking cheap and hearty types of bread en masse. While Emrita was human, the early hours of a baker had found them moving through the city together on more than one occasion. Despite the radiant smile, he could see the tiredness in her eyes. After exchanging a few words, the two parted and Iymbryl had a new set of tasks. He started moving throughout the city as a brisk pace, visiting some of the shops he knew, talking with the few that were open and leaving notes under doors of those that were not. Even with everything going on, the people of Gate Pass were still struggling to survive, what they really needed was some organization.
Iymbryl arrived back at the temple, dropping off a literal sack of bread loaves to one of the acolytes before heading down the stairs and back to the group. He opened the door and entered just in time to hear Torrent. He looked around the room with a nod and a reassuring smile. "Good morning, everyone. The streets were quiet, but I suspect there will be more foot traffic as the morning goes on. I agree that seeing councilor is a good first step toward getting this information out of the city. If it doesn't work out, we can decide where to go from there." He paused, looking around at everyone assembled. "Though I'm certainly open to any suggestions you all might have if there is a better alternative."
He looked over at Torrent. "Oh, and some people I know will be stopping by later today and looking for Buron. A baker friend of mine, a few merchants who run stalls in the bazaar or have stores, and few other artisans. They should be willing to sell supplies to or through the temple to make sure people get the supplies they need...I'll be the first to admit I didn't care for the idea of the Resistance, but if the goal is to help people, there is a great deal of impact that can be made just keeping the people of the city supplied through all of this tragedy."
Mechanics
Iymbryl spent all his lay on hands the night before on people, doing his best to triage so they would be mobile if they had to flee.
In the morning he spent 10 gold (already removed from my sheet) to get a baker he knew to deliver large quantities of bread to the temple for the people taking refuge there. He also set up a meeting with some skilled artisans in the city, directing them to the temple, to form a network to get the goods they have to the people that need them. I figure at the very least, Buron will buy some stuff.Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Stand the Heat
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Gilbert Percy "The Crimson" GilaneArcane Scholar, Gun for Hire, Part Time Prospector
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 17 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
Iymbryl frowned as he considered the options before them. Even wandering the city was a risk now, but they had little choice if they wanted to keep this information from returning to Ragesia. Now that Torrent had at least confirmed the importance of what they had acquired, it wasn't as though they could simply turn and walk away. It was possible there wouldn't even be a city at the rate things were going if someone didn't start gathering allies powerful enough to resist Ragesia.
"The opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself..." He muttered to himself. It was one of his favorites attributed to the great General Willow Tems, who had once used her much smaller force to repel invaders into Shahalesti lands. He let out a deep breath and began to plan for worst case scenarios in his head.
He was a bit surprised to hear Anne openly expressing such concerns, normally she was the one who always looked on the bright side. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. "There is always hope, Anne. Someone needs to take this information to Lyceum and return with aid to drive the Ragesians out of Gate Pass. Even if Councilman Menash can't help us, there are other options open to us. We have to keep moving forward, one step at a time. We made it this far together." He could understand her feelings, mirrored them a bit even, but he had to at least seem confident they could do this, otherwise they might all fall apart.
"I'm going to see if anyone upstairs is in need of what little healing I have before the night is over. We should all get some rest while we can." He turned to walk away but paused in the doorway and turned back to look at the group assembled. "Looking back, this is not the group I would have assembled for such a mission. But clearly Torrent saw something that I didn't. We wouldn't have made it this far without every one of you. You've all gone above and beyond what anyone has a right to expect. And now I truly believe this group can save Gate Pass. So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart." The guard captain dipped in short, respectful bow before heading upstairs to check on the other people hiding in the temple.
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 17 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
Once the others had finally opened the case, Iymbryl helped clean up the papers and set everything to order. "Excellent work Bronn and Belfyr." He didn't bother to look at Torrent or Father Watcher, but his hands made a gesture to the maps, diagrams, and writings on the thick parchment as he looked them over. "We've joined you rebellion for the good of Gate Pass. We retrieved the case and opened it. Now one of you said they knew where we were supposed to take the information, and the other said it could only be decided upon once we knew what was inside. There are some documents in a language we cannot read, and some maps." He separated one of the maps trying to at least piece the information together as best he could. "If there are maps and layout of some underground complex, one probably points to another. But the text probably speaks of the importance of the place." His eyes did now level on the pair of them. "So this is the part where, as the leaders of this rebellion in Gate Pass, you tell us what to do with this information that has already been killed for, and where it needs to go. You really can't expect us to make decisions for an organization we have no idea the true aims of...I would assume." He looked to Torrent, who had been the more useful of the pair by far. "Where does this information need to go, and how do we get it there?"
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 17 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
It took Iymbryl a long time to consider Father Watcher's response. He did a quick glance around the room to see only Belfyr and Bronn had accompanied him. The guard captain hated the idea of Olvyn off somewhere without supervision, but perhaps that was the lesser of two evils in this instance. Now they had a case people were apparently willing to kill for, and yet had no idea what was inside or how to get in. Bronn seemed their only hope now, so he hoped the Dwarf was as talented as Anne said he was.
What if there was nothing of value in the case? Could it have been a rouse to divert the enemies' forces to focus on something else while they invaded? Iymbryl doubted that was the case, and yet with so many unknowns, anything was possible at this point. All he knew was that they had risked their lives, and still didn't even know what for.
Iymbryl came out of his quiet contemplation just in time to hear Father Watcher asking something about a battle. There wasn't much to add to what Belfyr had already said, so Iymbryl simply nodded in agreement and waited for the priest to explain what was going on.
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 19 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
The burgeoning darkness was an odd comfort. In previous days, Iymbryl always found himself on edge during night patrols. But now the city was still and silent. It reminded him of a wounded animal’s shallow breaths as it hid from a predator. There were no smiles on the people they passed, everyone just shuffled by their gazes downcast. Buildings in the distance still belched trails black smoke into the sky, drowning out the cold and distant stars. Iymbryl had to wonder if Gate Pass would ever truly recover from this.
Despite their success, few words were exchanged by the group. Oddly enough, it was Belfyr who broke the silence. Iymbryl raised an eyebrow at the man’s comment, silently wondering what he was really trying to say. Part of him wanted to get clarity on the statement, but instead the guard captain simply let it go. Everyone in the city was dealing with loss in their own way. This group perhaps had it harder than most, having the responsibility for aiding the city thrust upon them. These were not trained veteran guards fulfilling their duty, they were artists, criminals, and cooks that had banded together in a desperate attempt to save their home.
Iymbryl did his best to stand tall as they entered, not out of any sense of personal pride, but because the forlorn victims who sought asylum there needed someone to inspire them that things were getting better, even if he didn’t believe it himself. He looked at Bronn and nodded. “Then we should pay our respects to Father Watcher. I’m certain he could make some space available.” Iymbryl remained silent at the thought of selling the information to what could be a great ally in the fight against Ragesia, to make a quick coin. The idea made his stomach turn. The Elf made his way to the adjoining hall and down the narrow staircase Torrent had shown them the first time they had come. It was strange to seem so comfortable in a hidden Resistance base, but these were strange times. “Father Watcher. We’ve returned. Successfully. Since Rivereye didn’t have a way to open the case, it might be prudent to allow our master…locksmith…make an attempt. I think the more important question is what you plan on doing with this information, now that we’ve retrieved it.”
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 19 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
Iymbryl felt a wave of relief wash over him as Bronn pulled the case from the open chest. It had been touch and go for a while, but the mission was nearly complete. Iymbryl held his tongue as Olvyn offered the Dwarf what the guard captain could only assume was his version of a compliment. He wondered if Olvyn really thought his words would hold any weight with any council in Gate Pass...ever, or was the man truly so delusional? At least he had enough sense to be vague about what they were doing next.
There was a split second he contemplated mentioning something to the others that they could establish their next plan of action after they left, but then he thought the better of it. Surely no one was foolish enough to--. His eyes widened as he glanced in Anne's direction, the words already starting to tumble out of her mouth. She wouldn't, would she? Even Anne, the girl who tended to act first and think sometimes wouldn't relay their next course of action in front of a live prisoner who would undoubtedly summon reinforcements and try to capture them...He didn't know by the grace of which gods she noticed him staring before he could stop her, but the look they exchanged seemed to give her pause and then she sputtered out some nonsense. "Yes. We'll leave and proceed to the next phase of the plan. Good work Bronn. If you're going to carry the case, I suggest burying it deep in your pack so no one knows you have it. Remember there were...others looking for it as well."
As the others prepared to leave, Iymbryl moved over to Larion and knelt beside the Elf. "I meant what I said. I still intend to get whatever information is inside to the Shahalesti. Stopping Ragesia is in everyone's best interest. Do not be so short sighted as to attempt to come after us. Go home, report your failure, and tell them I'll send word when I can...You and Sagan murdered citizens of Gate Pass for no reason. I'd be well within my rights as a guard to deem you a terrorist and carry out your execution right here and now. Leave Gate Pass and never return Larion. I swear to you I won't be so merciful if you return." There was an intensity in Iymbryl's eyes that made it impossible to think he was lying, and that his last sentiment was not an idle threat.
"Good work everyone, but we're not done yet. Stay sharp." There was still a long way back to the Resistance, and Iymbryl wasn't so naïve as to think they wouldn't encounter more trouble along the way...
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/ASpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 19 (chainshirt & shield +sof) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
As the last of his spell energy left him, Iymbryl almost felt...guilty. Not that what he was doing wasn't valuable, but the echoes of his power reminded him of better times, times that they may never see again. It wasn't like he could change the way his magic manifested, but it was a solemn reminder of something he doubted anyone wanted to feel at the moment. He busied himself with looking over Anne's wounds one more time. Most of them were little more than blemishes on the skin that fade soon, but several minor burns remained.
It seemed the others were having trouble opening the chest, and in all likelihood, there were only two places the key could be. The guard captain kept his expression as neutral as possible as he took a knee and started searching Larion. He started with a standard weapons search, then emptied the Elf's outer pockets before searching for hidden ones. The Gate Pass search and seizure procedure was probably one of the most updated sections of their handbook, as criminals were always finding new and creative ways to smuggle illicit goods. Iymbryl had done these searches a thousand, thousand times. He'd never considered the race of a criminal before, but was now keenly aware of it. Still, he shook off the shame of starting to feel like he was mugging his own kin and did his duty. He hid a half grimace as Anne started to explain her assumptions. While she'd gotten it wrong, Iymbryl's stance on such things was that a failure in communication was often the leader's fault, which meant he simply hadn't spent enough time getting her acquainted with the maneuvers. He should have known that a single sheaf of paper with diagrams wouldn't be that easily memorized in such a short time."You're right about the golden bridge. And it was my fault for not being more clear. I only added that part to give you an idea of where to go. The castle part is like chess..." Iymbryl stopped himself, remembering Anne had never had the patience to learn such games of strategy. The only time they'd ever played, she flipped the board half way through after he'd stopped letting her have 'do-overs' after every move and she'd lost her queen. "Castling means get to a protected position. The archon was only focusing on you. So if you'd gotten out of line of sight, it wouldn't have been able to do as much damage. Or it would have expended a great deal of effort trying to get past us to continue going after you. What is important is that you're okay. We can always work to refine such tactics as long as we all make it." He gave her a warm, but slightly somber smile. "I'd much prefer your two-faced father to go. From a practical perspective, anyone who can change their face at will would make the best lookout. Not to mention we can probably assume Shaelis has the same sort of feeling as Larion and Sagan about your...lineage." His eyes shot away, unable avoid the disgust and guilt he felt that one of his own kin could be consumed by such a base emotional bias to that degree.
After finding everything he could, Iymbryl frowned. "The only thing on him was a scroll." He unfurled it to confirm it wasn't a letter and then handed it to Anne. "Bronn, how long are you going to need to persuade that chest?" He had hoped they wouldn't have to question Larion, but that was starting to look like the only path forward.
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: Shield of FaithSpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Shayne Kuznetsov - Human Warlock
AC: 13 (leather) | HP: 24/24 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (120ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 2nd 2/2 (+5, DC 13) | Healing Light: 4/4 | Hero Points: 3/3
Post goes here.
"Speech"
thoughts in italics
Mechanics
Main Hand: Empty
Off Hand: Empty
Action: Your action goes here.
Bonus Action: Your bonus action goes here.
Move: Your movement goes here.
Manipulate: Your one free object interaction goes here.
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Shayne Kuznetsov - Human Warlock
AC: 13 (leather) | HP: 17/24 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (120ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 2nd 2/2 (+5, DC 13) | Healing Light: 2/4 | Hero Points: 2/3
Level 2 Warlock
PHB+1: XGE for +1 (was previously nothing)
HP: 10 (previous) + 7 (5 average + 2 con) = 17
Eldritch Invocations: Agonizing Blast & Devil's Sight
+1 Spell Known: Armor of Agathys
+1 Spell Slot
Pact Change: Archfey (PHB) -> Celestial (XGE)
Fey Presence (Archfey) -> Healing Light & Bonus Cantrips (Celestial)
Replaced faerie fire (Archfey expanded spell list) -> cure wounds (Celestial expanded spell list)
Shayne Kuznetsov - Human Warlock
AC: 13 (leather) | HP: 17/24 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (120ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 2nd 2/2 (+5, DC 13) | Healing Light: 2/4 | Hero Points: 2/3
Level 3 Warlock
HP: 17 (previous) + 7 (5 average + 2 con) = 24
Spell Slots: 2nd Level
+1 Spell Known: Hold Person
Spell Replacement: Cure Wounds -> Darkness
Pact Boon: Pact of the Tome
Eldritch Invocations: Agonizing Blast -> Book of Ancient Secrets
Book of Shadows Cantrips: Guidance, Mold Earth, Mending
Book of Shadows 1st Level Celestial pact spells: Cure Wounds, Guiding Bolt
Book of Shadows 2nd Level Celestial pact spells: Flaming Sphere, Lesser Restoration
Book of Ancient Secrets Rituals: Comprehend Languages, Find Familiar
Healing Light +1d6/LR
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Shayne Kuznetsov
Human Celestial Warlock
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic GoodClass: Warlock 3
Background: Courtier of Shadows (Custom)
Passive Perception: 13
Passive Investigation: 14Passive Insight: 13Hit Points: 24
Hit Dice: 3d8
AC: 13
Initiative: +2
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 feet PATRON
Lady Astranella Lunaria Zera'Del Mavis
Principality of Summer, Duchess of Stars, The Knight of Summertide, Mistress of the Boreal Forest, Guardian of the Ewer of Dreams
History
Unlike the other lords and ladies of her court, Lady Astranella has always been amused by Humanity. She found it fascinating the way such a barbaric culture survive with such short lifespans, no real power to speak of, and an utter lack of charm. Perhaps that was why when one of the tiny villages that would later become part of Three Sisters had faced a horrible famine, followed by the harshest winter she could remember, she decided on a whim to aid them...
There was one man from the village she had watched enter her wood several times, Mikhail Kuznetsov. And though he dared to fell trees and hunt game there, before he left, he always did the oddest thing...He would turn back, right at the edge of the forest and bow to it before continuing on home.
Unbeknownst to Mikhail, Lady Astranella silently watched him enter her domain in waist deep snow. She saw the weary man, weak from hunger and exhaustion finally slow and fall in the snow. She listened as he weakly prayed to any deity that could hear him, offering anything he had in exchange for the lives of those he loved.
Mortal lives meant nothing to her, but Lady Astranella saw an interesting opportunity. For the first time in hundreds of years, she stepped foot into the Boreal Forest. She walked upon the towering snowbanks and knelt beside the man. "If you, and your family serve me for one hundred and one generations, I will fulfill your desire." Her voice was like honey in his ear. While he didn't have the energy to shake his head, he whispered his allegiance to her.
Vitality filled his body, her power filling him with new life. Mikhail felt as though he had taken a breath for the first time. Out of the corner of his vision, his tangle of black hair had turned the color of fire. "A symbol of your fealty, for as long as your family serves." With that, Lady Astranella vanished and from the forest walked a pair of large stags.
Personality
Lady Astranella rarely intervenes with mortal affairs. Despite sharing the tiniest fragment of her power with her servants, she finds most of the Kuznetsov line boring and sends them on their way after a year and day of service. To her, they are little more than pets, a trifling amusement to pass the time. She is a collector of the rare and mystical, and often sends her servants on tasks that seem rather silly. It isn't uncommon for them to bring her offerings of great rarity like the white squirrel of Ragnar, a silver acorn, the last leaf of Autumn, or silk spun by a blind spider on a blood moon. Her major interest in Shayne has always been his rather unique ability to perfectly recall things he has seen, heard, or experienced. Being able to trade memories, he has provided her with some rather interesting and vivid memories of the human realms.
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 19 (chainshirt & shield +sof) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 0/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
Iymbryl gave Anne a nod of appreciation as the manacles locked into place. The guard captain gave a sigh. This wasn't how it was supposed to have gone. "I think between your earlier shape shifting stunt and poor imitation of an Elven woman, I'll choose to ignore your poor tactical advice this time around, Olvyn." Instead, Iymbryl reached into his pack and pulled out some rope. He shoved a small cloth into Larion's mouth, then wrapped the rope once around his head to stop the spy from being able to spit it out. Next he looped the rope through the manacles, before finally binding his feet and hands close together before looking up at Anne. "I had hoped the case would be obvious to find, but in the event the others don't have much luck, yes, we may need him to tell us where it is." Silently, Iymbryl prayed the others found the case. There was little doubt a zealot like Larion wouldn't talk with anything less than torture, and despite Iymbryl's newfound revelation about his morality, he knew that was further than he was willing to go.
Once he was satisfied Larion was sufficiently bound and no longer able to cry out, ran a hand through his short cropped brown hair and let out a deep breath. "Perhaps it would be wise for someone to go be a lookout? The last thing we need is Shaelis returning and getting the jump on us." He looked back to Anne, his tone now softer. "Are you alright?" He started to look her over, seeing she had taken quite a few wounds. "When I told you to get out of the room, I had meant you should move around the corner to it couldn't shoot at you..." He closed his eyes and let the last of his spells coalesce into a wave of healing that washed over Anne.
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: Cast Cure Wounds on Anne
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: Shield of FaithSpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
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Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 19 (chainshirt & shield +sof) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 1/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 1/3
Iymbryl felt no pity for the Elf as Larion slammed face first into the hard wood floor. The guard captain understood his position, who would possibly trust a group who had come in feigning being someone else, then slayed a celestial? If their positions were reversed, he was certain he wouldn't simply submit and hope they weren't lying. He brushed the thought away as he moved to deal with the task at hand. The spy fell on his foe in a practiced motion, keeping his weight centered on the man's lower back to reduce the number of angles of attack. Larion's hand flailed wildly, and while he pulled a pair of manacles from his belt, it was impossible in this state to fully subdue his opponent alone. "I don't suppose anyone would be willing to give me a hand here?"
Mechanics
Main Hand: Manacles
Off Hand: Shield
Free: Drop rapier
Manipulate: Draw manacles
Action: Manacle Larion
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: Shield of FaithSpells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Shield of Faith
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)
Book One: The Scouring of Gate Pass | Act Three: Escaping The City
in Game Threads
Posted
Iymbryl Darcassan - Shahalesti Paladin
AC: 17 (chainshirt & shield) | HP: 25/25 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: 13 (60ft Darkvision) | Spell Slots: 1st 3/3 (+5, DC 13) | Lay on Hands: 15/15 | Leadership Performance 3/3 | Channel Divinity 1/1 | Harness Power 1/1
The city had survived but was still in shambles after the night raid. Smoke billowed out from the ruins of buildings filling the alleys and streets with a sulphureous grey fog. With the sun out, people huddled outside, picking through the ruins of their homes. It was a bleak sight, to say the least.
Iymbryl had never met the councilor personally, but he had been present at more than a few functions that required the presence of the city's law enforcement. He pondered the best approach when Bronn broke the silence. "Guards don't threaten people with 'something' for no reason, Bronn." There was the slightest hint of exasperation in his voice, but it was drowned out by his fixation on the gate in front of them. "But you're right, I suppose going up and talking to them is probably the best solution. We are looking for the councilman's help after all..." He gave a look to Anne, then to the others. "No reason not to let them see all of our number right away. Just...don't mention anything about burning or acid while we're here." For the last comment, his gaze fell soley on the Dwarf.
With a deep breath, which caused his to cough slightly in the smoke, Iymbryl made his way to the front gate with a determined expression. "Hail good sirs. My name is Iymbryl, guard captain. I'm working with some of your fellow citizens to help with the defense of the city and would like to speak with councilor. Is he in? It is a matter of dire importance."
Mechanics
Main Hand: N/A
Off Hand: Shield
Free: N/A
Manipulate: N/A
Action: N/A
Move: N/A
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A
Concentration: N/A
Spells
Cantrips:
Minor Illusion (Shape Shadows)
1st Level:
Cure Wounds, Command, Disguise Self, Stand the Heat
2nd Level:
Invisibility (Shape Shadows)