Spektor

Mariposa AC: 17 (Shield) | HP: 21/21 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ❌ | Languages: Common, Druidic, Elvish, Sylvan Mariposa’s brow furrowed with uncertainty as she peered at the abandoned settlement. A frown appeared on her face when Artus mentioned his bad feeling. “Mmm…” She grunted with worry, “…Maybe they all just decided to move out…at the same time…through a dangerous jungle.” She audibly gulped, but perked up at Story’s pointing paw, gesturing towards a home that was perhaps not so abandoned. “Ah! See? Someone is home, it seems. Shall I call forth the dream of the spider so that I might take a closer look with no danger to you, friends?” She had already begun with her swaying, dream-like motions, ready to shift forms and be the reconnaissance they needed.

Lucienne d'Amaranthine AC: 12 | HP: 22/22 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ✅ | Languages: Common, Chondothan, Elvish, Draconic, Infernal Day 3 - 25 Kythorn, 1489 DR Lucienne nearly choked on her own laughter at Oyn’s implication that she had experience with heroism. “Ha! If you know nothing else about me, Oyn, you should at least know that I am no fool. I may be stubborn, but that is only because I am often right, and many think that just because I did not speak my knowledge in a way that they see as ‘nice’ then I am not worth listening to. Foolish, really. I’ve attempted to publish a few textbooks back in Suzail but clearly I did not grease enough palms for my published works to see the candlelight of the city library.” She brushed his attempt to learn about her aside and instead provided a lie in its stead. She had never attempted to publish any books back in Suzail, and if she had, they certainly wouldn’t be found published under the name Lucienne. Day 8 - 30 Kythorn, 1489 DR Luci scowled at the ettercaps’ surprising level of resistance to her magic. The expression was followed by a grunt of aggravation as the webs planted her to the ground by her boots. “Blast it all to the nine hells...” She grumbled, only slightly losing her Chondothan accent in the chaos of it all. “Put the damned horse down, wretch. Down!” She extended a hand and conjured three spiraling bolts of magical force, aglow with a bright purple hue. The bolts shot through the air in erratic patterns and found their home in the back of one of the fleeing ettercaps. Actions Day 8 Actions: Action - Cast Magic Missile (Level 1; 3 bolts at Ettercap 1 unless it’s dead then I will target Ettercap 3.) Movement - Web, no move :c

Jaqelenna Lanthaloren | Conditions: None AC: 16 | HP: 30/30 | PP: 13 | 2nd Wind: 1/1 |Action Surge: 1/1| Insp: ✅ | Languages: Common, Draconic, Elvish Through the pulse of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears Jaqi hears her name called out by a familiarly refined voice. Her head jerks towards Jonas’ direction and she unintentionally snarls at him, bearing her sharp canines in his direction. Her eyes scan the wound in his side and she mentally kicks herself for moving away from them to engage the enemy. “Yes. I coming!” She off-handedly slings her blade to the side to rid it of the goblin’s corpse and begins stomping towards the annoying little creatures hiding in the bushes. “No hiding!” She threatens while looming over one of the bushes that she believes one of the goblins to be hiding in. With a sweeping attack, the edge of her blade lops off the top of the bush with ease. It seems they had come to handle the landscaping as well as pest control. Whether her attack drew blood or not, her eyes shifted to icy blue slits and she exhaled a long breath, coating the area around her in a misty haze. She would ensure none of her allies were injured again. OoC Movement: Running to U/V 12/13 Action: Attack Goblin 9. (Using my Squire feat precise Strikes to cancel disadvantage.) Bonus Action: Perception to see Goblin 9. (Failed) Reaction: Cloud Rune if an enemy hits an ally within 30 feet of me

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka flips the switch once, then quirks her head to one side, like a curious puppy. She flips the switch again. Then, she does it again. She repeats the motion repeatedly for a full fifteen seconds before commenting on it, all the while still flipping the switch back and forth. “An odd contraption; I feel myself compelled to activate it. Both I and the Shape derive an inexplicable pleasure from hearing the soft click of its activation.” The masked woman’s gold-rimmed eyes narrow at the device, as if suspecting some sort of foul play. Unable to stop herself, she flips the switch one last time before huffing in annoyance and skulking across the room to keep an eye out for danger. Whatever the man ‘Greyrose’ was thinking, he seemed to have a handle on the situation. “It is not a rarity to have puzzles and traps built into Osirion architecture. This appears less perfect in its design, yet still similar in its purpose. The answer will be contained within these rooms. What does your mind conjure, Grey Flower?”

°•⌂→φ←ζ Aηηika, †hΣ HΣx ζ→φ←⌂•° Conditions: None Stats: Charm +2, Cool +0, Sharp +0, Tough -1, Weird +2 Harm: ○○○/○○○○ Unstable: ○ Luck: ●○○○○○○ Exp: ●●●●● Temptation: Power Moves & Gear Bad Luck CharmWhenever you use magic and miss, the backlash never affects you directly if there’s someone else around to hit. It’ll go for allies, other hunters, and innocent bystanders. Sometimes, every so often, it might even hit an enemy. Cast the Bones Once per mystery, you may perform some kind of divination (tarot, casting the runes, reading entrails, or something like that) to glean information about the future. When you seek guidance by divination, roll +Sharp. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. On a miss, you get some information, but it’s not what you want to hear. Spend those holds to ask any question from the investigate a mystery move, or one of the following questions: • What can I gain from this person/place/thing/creature? • Who has touched this person/place/thing/creature before me? The Keeper will answer truthfully, with either a direct answer or how to find out more. Sympathetic TokenAs long as you carry a personal object belonging to someone, such as a lock of hair, a full set of toenails, or a treasured family heirloom, you get +1 ongoing to use magic against them. You can also use magic against them at a distance. If you try to use magic against them and miss, the token is lost, destroyed, or loses its power. Force of WillWhen you apply your will to dispelling a magical effect, blocking a spell, or suspending a Phenomenon, roll +Weird. On a hit, momentary magics are cancelled completely, and long-lasting spells and effects are suspended temporarily. On a 10+, you can also spend Luck to instantly snuff out a powerful spell or strange effect. On a 7-9, you take 1-harm as the strain of dismissing magic unravels you. Rotes: Leeching Enchantment(Must be cast at night. Requires the burning of pressed flowers.) This ability works similar to the Use Magic ability: Enchant a Weapon, but with extra bonuses. On a 10+ Enchant a weapon. It gets +1 harm and +magic and + Vampiric (1 healing for each time it deals damage). On a 7-9 The effect is weakened. Choose two of the three tags. On a miss The weapon turns on you as you attempt to enchant it. Take 1 harm ignore armour. Apply no Effects. Gear: Athame(2-harm hand magic silver) Staff(1-harm hand balanced large) Annika scoffs and responds to Hal without looking back towards him. “Ha. Yeah, I think I am going to start making it a rule that we all have to be banke before each of these meetings. At least we can do something useful with our time while waiting on Queen-“ She stops as her (and everyone else’s) phone buzzes. She looks down at the text message with no small amount of confusion, “What the f*ck does that even mean?” Before anyone can respond to her rhetorical question, she is already looking towards Ekram as he checks his own messages. So his phone does work. Whatever excuse she had created for him ignoring her calls and messages over the break is completely shattered. Her lips go into a thin line and she looks away, rolling her eyes with the movement and not really caring if he saw or not. She drops her phone on the table in front of her and exhales a sigh. Annika had not enjoyed her break. The trip with Sophie to the museum had felt distant and awkward, and she knew that distance was caused by her own issues. But that had actually been the highlight of her time away. The rest was filled with time spent around her parents, which had gone about as poorly as it possibly could have. Whenever she could escape their lectures about ‘working harder to earn her privileges’, she had texted and called both of the boys to check on them. Hal seemed in unusually high spirits, which she doesn’t think is too out of the ordinary. But Ekram had completely ignored her. And, fitting her selfish and spoiled personality, Annika has assumed its because of something regarding her. He must have lost interest — or perhaps he never had it in the first place. That’s what she told herself. She has a long way to go before she’s empathetic enough to pick up on the fact that perhaps not everything revolves around her. All she knows in this moment is that she wants something and it’s not being given to her, and that is enough of a reason to pout, complain, and generally be displeasing. Because that’s what cool kids do. That’s what spoiled kids do. “Sooooo…is she not coming? What does she mean ‘too late’?” OoC N/A

Mariposa AC: 17 (Shield) | HP: 21/21 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ❌ | Languages: Common, Druidic, Elvish, Sylvan When Najya returned, Mariposa was already snoozing soundly back in her lemur form with her head propped up against one of Story’s arms; his furred arm had become her pillow. When she was finally roused from her quick nap, it was to the sound of Story’s voice questioning just how long they should wait. The lilac-eyed lemur wrapped her ringed tail around herself and performed a quick twirl, morphing back into her faun form in the process and immediately went into an extravagant stretch followed by an extensive yawn that made her eyes water. “Whew! How long was I sleeping? Oh! Where’s Eku?” She peered around curiously, then looked to Najya who explains in a series of hand signals that Mari mostly understands. “Oh! We should probably be going to meet her now, yes? We do not want Eku out here all alone with the Wizards of ‘They’ around. Not to mention all of the various ways that she could die to all of the predatory creatures that live here! Like: being eaten alive, being eaten dead, being eaten BY the dead…disease, poison, dehydration, rehydration — also known as ‘drowning’…heat stroke, sunburn…” The rest of the group would be forgiven for tuning her out at that point. Nevertheless, she was ready to move onward and explore this nearby settlement.

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka feels that she has explained herself enough; if the Half-orc ‘Hrotha’ wants to keep an eye on the Shape, then she will follow. The masked woman looks towards Greyrose as he points out something of importance and she notes that he speaks of the fresco. However, to Ka’Mhet, there is little of importance in relics of the past — even if she is one herself. What matters more is securing the rooms around them to ensure they are not ambushed. So, without a word, Ka drops into a low skulk and pushes into the next room, keen golden eyes searching the environment for enemies, a clue, or an exit, whichever jumps out at her first. Mechanics Ka is going to go stealthy as she enters the next room. Then she will search around if able. Lastly, if there are no enemies or other surprises, she will specifically look for a “light switch” on the wall, and flip it a couple of times to see what happens.

Jaqelenna Lanthaloren | Conditions: None AC: 16 | HP: 30/30 | PP: 13 | 2nd Wind: 1/1 |Action Surge: 1/1| Insp: ✅ | Languages: Common, Draconic, Elvish The goblin crumples beneath Jaqi’s giant weapon and a trail of wet viscera follows the arc of the blade as the Elf lifts it once more, ready to move across the battlefield. If the Squire was imposing before her change, now she is a terror to behold. Her slitted pupils focus on another target, the one nearest the workshop still grappling with one of the odd defense mechanisms. With a feral snarl she stomps over towards the creature and raises her blade again, preparing a strike. She lets out a grunt of effort that sounds guttural and backed by an underlying animalistic growl. The downward cleave is a devastating blow and Jaqi’s nostrils flare, either from anger or as a reaction to the smell of blood. There is a twinkle of violent delight in her draconic eyes. OoC Movement: Running to O/P14 Action: Attack Gob 8 with Greatsword Bonus Action: None

Lucienne d'Amaranthine AC: 12 | HP: 22/22 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ✅ | Languages: Common, Chondothan, Elvish, Draconic, Infernal Day 3 - 25 Kythorn, 1489 DR Making her way back to the cart, Lucienne climbed aboard and seated herself next to Evermoor in a straight posture. “I see we have a few noble heroes who have risen to the occasion. Obviously they have plenty to compensate for.” She says the term ‘noble heroes’ with unveiled derision and does not look towards Evermoor to see his reaction. As the matter is resolved and the caravan begins to move again, Lucienne extends her break to discuss heroism and its place in society. “You are no fool, Oyn. You know Heroism is not defined by societal structures like class. Nor is it a pre-defined, genetic trait. More often than not, It is merely a mixture of three things.” She raises three gloved fingers as she counts them off, “A dull mind - incapable of conjuring a better plan, a stubborn heart - incapable of adapting to change…and an ocean of cowards behind them, egging them on to do what they are too afraid to do themselves.” She dropped her hand to her purse and pulled her journal from the extra dimensional space along with its adjoining mechanical quill. She began to scribble something on a page that was already filled with notes, illegible to anyone but herself. “Hold. I need to write that down — Gods, I can be brilliant sometimes.” She gave a side-eyed look to Evermoor and grinned. After a moment, she finished and tucked the journal back into her purse. “Anyway, as for what makes a noble fit for rule I’d have to answer with…” A wry grin greets her lips once more as she relishes the chance to speak ill of other nobles and their rule. “…a complete unwillingness to lead. Anyone who wants to lead does not deserve it. It only means they crave power, and anyone who craves power should not have i-“ She stopped herself at that, perhaps coming to a self-realization about her own goals. Her face fell and her eyes went distant. She did not talk for a long moment, and when she finally did it was to excuse herself. “I have work to do.” With that, the conversation was over. Day 4 - 26 Kythorn, 1489 DR Sitting next to Evermoor, Lucienne shakes her head as she watches her undercover allies carouse with their adopted guard. “Imagine my surprise to find that we do, in fact, have individuals in our caravan that possess all three qualities of Heroism.” The words sound complimentary but the tone suggests it is not. “You’ll have to forgive me, Evermoor, if urging you to use that brain of yours is bothersome to you.” She gives him a smirk, indicating her intent was playful. She had actually come to enjoy spending her days around Oyn more and more. Dani did not have many inquisitive minds willing to debate ethics and politics within her little group of ‘heroes’, and so Luci would learn to relish the time spent with someone who was willing. Although, perhaps it had more to do with the fact that Evermoor, being the quiet and contemplative sort, allowed her to spout her opinions freely without deriding her for being ‘arrogant’. Later in the evening, Luci nonchalantly made her way towards the Dardendelle camp. She did not make a direct approach, appearing to be casually stretching her legs while loosing her platinum locks from their bindings. She did speak, but only approached Theodoric to do so, and attempted to make her conversation appear to be boring to her. Or perhaps it actually was. “Ah, just the man in a mask I was looking for." She proceeded to explain what she had found in one of the Cult wagons, confirming their suspicions. She then followed up her intel with a word of advice, "Tell your caravan partners to seek a medic to plug their damnable bleeding hearts.” Her voice grew more sharp as the sentence continued, but remained quiet. “If they do not stop they will draw the eyes of certain individuals and earn themselves a sharp edge in their gut while they sleep. We are here do a job, not pick up every lost mutt we stumble across.” With a huff Lucienne turned on a heel and started back towards her tent. Day 8 - 30 Kythorn, 1489 DR Arriving later than most others, Lucienne scowled at the sight of the abominations, focusing her attention specifically on the Etterkins attempting to steal away the horses. “Oh no you do not.” She announced in her Chondothan accent, sounding not unlike a lecturing mother. She thrust a hand forward while performing a series of intricate gestures with her fingers. Then, as if pulling a series of threads from the space in front of her, she yanked downwards. The spell fell upon the two Etterkins — and, regrettably, the horses as well — like a ton of bricks, hopefully weighing them down further to impede their escape. Actions Day 8 Actions: Action - Cast Magnify Gravity (DC 14 CON or 2d8 force damage and reduce speed by 10 feet. Save takes half damage and doesn’t reduce speed.) She will center it in a way (hopefully) to only hit the ettercaps (and probably the horses, but I don’t THINK it will kill them…) Movement - Stay within 30 feet of the stealing Ettercaps while keeping a fair distance from any other enemies if possible.

°•⌂→φ←ζ Aηηika, †hΣ HΣx ζ→φ←⌂•° Conditions: None Stats: Charm +2, Cool +0, Sharp +0, Tough -1, Weird +2 Harm: ○○○/○○○○ Unstable: ○ Luck: ●○○○○○○ Exp: ●●●●● Temptation: Power Moves & Gear Bad Luck CharmWhenever you use magic and miss, the backlash never affects you directly if there’s someone else around to hit. It’ll go for allies, other hunters, and innocent bystanders. Sometimes, every so often, it might even hit an enemy. Cast the Bones Once per mystery, you may perform some kind of divination (tarot, casting the runes, reading entrails, or something like that) to glean information about the future. When you seek guidance by divination, roll +Sharp. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7-9, hold 1. On a miss, you get some information, but it’s not what you want to hear. Spend those holds to ask any question from the investigate a mystery move, or one of the following questions: • What can I gain from this person/place/thing/creature? • Who has touched this person/place/thing/creature before me? The Keeper will answer truthfully, with either a direct answer or how to find out more. Sympathetic TokenAs long as you carry a personal object belonging to someone, such as a lock of hair, a full set of toenails, or a treasured family heirloom, you get +1 ongoing to use magic against them. You can also use magic against them at a distance. If you try to use magic against them and miss, the token is lost, destroyed, or loses its power. Force of WillWhen you apply your will to dispelling a magical effect, blocking a spell, or suspending a Phenomenon, roll +Weird. On a hit, momentary magics are cancelled completely, and long-lasting spells and effects are suspended temporarily. On a 10+, you can also spend Luck to instantly snuff out a powerful spell or strange effect. On a 7-9, you take 1-harm as the strain of dismissing magic unravels you. Rotes: Leeching Enchantment(Must be cast at night. Requires the burning of pressed flowers.) This ability works similar to the Use Magic ability: Enchant a Weapon, but with extra bonuses. On a 10+ Enchant a weapon. It gets +1 harm and +magic and + Vampiric (1 healing for each time it deals damage). On a 7-9 The effect is weakened. Choose two of the three tags. On a miss The weapon turns on you as you attempt to enchant it. Take 1 harm ignore armour. Apply no Effects. Gear: Athame(2-harm hand magic silver) Staff(1-harm hand balanced large) Annika sits at the table in their special room in the back of the Eagle and Child. She is slumped forward with her cheek resting in her hand, propped up on the table. Her expression screams annoyance, or perhaps deep-seated anger, far beyond the surface level. Whatever her break had been like, it didn’t seem good. She bounces one of her legs in place, causing a bothersome and repetitive squeak to come from the floorboard beneath it. “I mean, it’s just f*ckin’ rude.” The explosive anger hints at a deeper problem beyond what her current complaints are focused on. “We’re out here getting our f*ckin’ arses kicked and she can’t even show up on time, ya’ know?” She pulls back from the table and crosses her arms, slouching back in her chair. The movement causes the black leather half jacket she wears to creak in defiance. The jacket is draped over a white and black long sleeve band shirt displaying album art of a bleeding, anatomically correct human heart and the word ‘Attila’. It matches well with her usual black jeans and black, steel-toed combat boots. “Anybody know what we got this time? Did Hitler rise from the dead for his apology tour or something?” Her brow is still knitted inward in anger but it is clear she is trying to lighten her own mood with some poor humor. She still tries her best to keep her eyes from lingering too long on Ekram, but that’s nothing new. OoC N/A

Mariposa AC: 17 (Shield) | HP: 21/21 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ❌ | Languages: Common, Druidic, Elvish, Sylvan Day 20: Vengeance, Ending Mari nodded emphatically at Cyas, “It would be fair to say so.” The Faun put her hand to her mouth to coyly stifle a melodic giggle. “Oh, you ARE the novelty. Are we all not novel in our own ways?” She peered to Cyrienne as the woman spoke of the relationship between gods and goddesses, and when she was motioned to regarding some sort of envy about a brother, Mariposa merely shrugged. “I am often envious of many people, but I do not know anyone’s brother. At least, I don’t think so…” She taps her chin thoughtfully with a long lilac fingernail. “…but I have always wanted a sister. So in a way, I suppose I am envious.” Clearly the Faun is not educated in the religion of the whims. Later that night as they made a plan, Brigg questioned her about the Dream. “Hmm? You would know more? What a curious, fluffy man you are. Yes. I dance through the Dreaming like no other; I pull the figments of your aspirations and fears; I make them become a part of this dream. You shall see. Mayhaps I will visit your dreams this evening, if you would only invite me in.” She gave the bugbear a mischievous grin. Then, when Story spoke of her playful pronouncements of Mbala’s name, she ran her long fingernails through the fur on his arm endearingly while taking on a singsong tone. “I bring delight wherever I might, and where I do not, they still like me a lot.” She giggled another melodic sound. Day 21: Short Goodbyes Mariposa was likewise tearful even before Cora began speaking. To the little gnome the Faun was quick to give a strong embrace, lifting her up and twirling her in a circle. “I will miss you so very much, Gumdrop! Take my love and take my tears, use them when you need them most.” Whatever that meant was very unclear. She made her way to Beacon, clearly attempting to reign in her welling emotions. “I know that you did not enjoy my games and fun, yet still, dear Beacon, I like you a ton. May I embrace you?” She extended her hands outwards in an open invitation with hopes that he might accept at least just once. Another set of goodbyes came as they prepared for the trek out of Camp Vengeance. To Ord, Mariposa gave a sentimental look of gratitude. “You are so very kind, sir. I wish to also give you a gift.” She fished in her pack and pulled out a small bell hung from a basic string. The bell was clearly broken, as its sound was more of a ‘tink’ than a jingle. “This was found and passed on by an ancient Fey. It holds within it a deep seated power that reveals itself to those who do good deeds. Take it, and remember us.” As they walked away, if Mariposa was questioned about the bell she would’ve shrugged, “I found it lying on the street in Port Nyanzaru. It means nothing to me. But it may now mean something to him. The power within it is the ability to make people do good deeds by thinking it has power.” She giggled happily. After setting up her spot in the camp, Mariposa stepped to its edge to watch the passing Thunder Lizards. There, beside Cyrienne, she looked endearingly at the priestess of beauty and quickly leaned in for a peck on the cheek. But by the time Cyrienne looked back to her, she had already changed her shape into that of the obsidian-furred panther and had darted towards the clearing’s tree line. She stopped only once to look back with her lilac-rimmed eyes before bounding into the jungle to earn the night’s dinner. What had she said earlier? Something about bringing figments into this dream? Day 22: Ptera-ble Encounters Mariposa was humming a cheerful tune when the shouts of surprise came. She raised a hand to part the curtain of silvery hair to reveal her drooping cervine ears that perked up at the distant sound. “Curious. This click and whine, it sort of reminds me of-“ She did not have time to finish before the attack played out. Whipping magical stones towards her enemies and healing rhymes to her allies, Mariposa supported her allies in the ensuing battle. Afterwards, she peered curiously at the not-dragonborn when he clicked and whistled again. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air, “What a thing to say!” She pretended to be offended, putting a hand to her mouth in surprise. She did not understand the language, of course, but she pretended all the same. Story did most of the talking, as was probably necessary, and when the time came for them to camp together Mari was more than willing to learn more about her new friends — especially the unique one. She approached Dragonbait with a bright smile and a bow of deference, “Hello! What a unique language you use. It is much like the Thunder Lizards do! Are you of their kin? I have never seen someone like you before!” And when Cyrienne came to her with an idea for bewitching their new friends with their beauty, she could think of no greater fun to be had that evening. She even offered up the intoxicating fruit that she had saved from long ago, preserved by Eku's skills (or perhaps, magic?) Day 23: Thay follow… Mari had shifted into a black-and-white coated lemur to climb into the small hiding place, and when the zombies appeared, she leapt silently to the nearby branch of a tree to watch curiously. Noting Dragonbait’s hand movements, she quirked her primate head to one side, her big lilac eyes following his line of sight. When the red-robed wizard appeared, she darted even further up the tree and peeked from the canopy, as any startled primate might. Once they were supposedly safe, Mari shifted back to her Faun form and listened to the conversation shared between the rest of her party. “Oh no! Red Wizards of They? The absolute worst, I think. The worst part being, of course, who really knows who 'They' are? No one. The mystery is the scary part!" Clearly the Faun knew little -- if anything -- about Thay. But that did not stop her from trying to pretend she understood. Day 24: A Steady Ascent The day finally came when the party reached the dreaded cliffs that hoisted the city of Mbala high above. Mari was quick to alert Brigg that he would see the dream. "You have seen my figments before, but now you will witness the dream of the spider as you have asked about, once upon a time. If it shall be of any aid to you, I will be sure to lay webs where I can to catch any silly stumblers." She smiled brightly and began to sway, twirling her gnarled wooden staff around her, its strange dangling fetishes jingling as she moved it. Around her the world seemed to grow hazy, like she was fading away into a lilac blur. She swayed her hips side to side and whispered a low limerick in Sylvan. Within a few moments she had taken on the form of a Giant Spider with colorful patterns across its furry form. With a joyful chittering, Mari-spider skittered up the side of the cliffs, spewing web in areas that might act as a sticky safeguard for any who had trouble ascending. However, once they had all finally reached the trail pointed out by Eku, Mari quickly learned how winded she was from the ascent and her web weaving. Shifting back to her Faun form, she breathed heavily and swept away the beads of sparkling sweat that were already forming across her brow. “Oh me, oh my, I do not think I can continue further. Can we not take a nap here? I think I will be needing a nap, yes, yes.” Of course, there was no time for such things, especially in a place as dangerous as Chult. She would continue on, but at a slow and unsteady pace. OoC Day 21: Hunting (really well apparently) Day 22: Rolled two attacks, although I’m not much of a fighter. Then I will give Cyrienne advantage on her checks for the Cimber and Deagonbait. Day 23: Using Wild Shape to become a cute little Lemur Day 24: Using Wild Shape to become a giant spider. I don’t know if it helps but I can shoot webs to protect anyone who falls, assuming there are tall enough trees or something to create a net of some sort. Then I’m going to fail my Athletics check and take Exhaustion.

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka does not stop moving until Hrotha declares that she is not to leave her sight, at which point she turns to regard the Half-Orc with an emotionless stare, one that is noticeably angled upwards due to the height difference. She is silent through all of the questions…just watching. When the onslaught ends, Ka merely turns and continues her search through the room. A long time passes without a response, perhaps giving the indication that she will not answer. But eventually, she does respond, although without looking back to Hrotha. “The one you refer to as ‘Lori’ is safe, and her return will be marked by the absence of danger. I could tell you that, even now, She begs that you allow me to do this. She holds great fear in this heart. Yet, I suspect that you will think me deceitful.” She goes silent and her search is, to put it lightly, ineffective, perhaps due to the distraction or perhaps for other reasons. She speaks again after a short while, “Would you speak of the event of your own conception? Would you tell the tale of the moment you slipped from between your mother’s legs? Why should I speak of my origin?” Ka finally turned and stared at Hrotha once more. “I will answer your first query. I am the will of the one who dons me. What this Shape wants,” One of her hands exits the cloak and motions to her body before slipping back beneath the cover. “I will enact in Her stead. We are allies. My presence gives power to the Shape, and the Shape gives me purpose. I hold great gratitude that the Shape is lithe and quick. I can use this to channel my own abilities. But I am neither spirit nor ghost. I am Ka. I am the Will. Within this shape, I am Justice.”

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Golden rings peer from the darkness as Ka slinks through the shadows as a passive observer, keeping her keen ears perked and alert to whichever conversations are not completely whispered. She knows these people do not trust her, and those who have become aware of the shape she has taken as a vessel’s condition are even more wary of her. But this is no matter. They will come to accept it once they see her goals in action. For now, she does not need their trust; she only needs to know that they will not attempt to kill her. And that the Investigator one — Greyrose — does not try to oust her from Her body. Ka moves towards the Lordly man — ‘Armen’, She tells her — and walks mostly silently up behind him. Her steps are not as quiet as usual, but the young Jester is so enraptured by the Elf that he still does not hear her arrival. She quickly butts her way into the conversation with words spoken in monotone, directly behind him “It is truth. One cannot be certain of what a ‘madwoman with knives and animal masks’ might be capable of.” If he turns to face her he would see that she is not glaring at him, but merely has her head cocked upwards, staring with those haunting gilded irises down the bridge of the jackal mask’s nose with an appraising expression. The ambient light dances across the golden necklace draped around her neck. “You think yourself so charismatic, yet you cannot even wrap your tongue around my name. Ka…Mhet. Ka’Mhet. It is not this ‘comet’.” Her eyes shift to Lady Myrthe and she stares for a long moment before finally nodding subtly. Her cloak billows slightly as she turns and enters further into the room, allowing the two to finish their conversation as she, for once, takes the lead in investigating the new space.

Lucienne d'Amaranthine AC: 12 | HP: 22/22 | PP: 15 | WS: 0/2 | Spell Slots1st: 4/4 2nd: 2/2 | Insp: ✅ | Languages: Common, Chondothan, Elvish, Draconic, Infernal Before leaving Evermor’s presence at the Low Lantern, Daniella smirked at this dismissal but stopped in her departure to give a name, “Yes, because brooding in the corner at the Low Light is certainly doing wonders for your image.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “I suppose knowing my full name would be useful, if it is not already notated. Lucienne d’Amaranthine of Chondath.” With that, ‘Luci’ left to find herself a place to stay for the evening. Day 3 - 25 Kythorn, 1489 DR On the third day of travel, Lucienne was finally overcoming her irate mood caused by the previous day’s weather. Her cantrips could only do so much to keep her dry, and neither studying nor cataloguing Evermor’s ‘library’ were an efficient task given the humidity. She did what she could of course, and Evermor had seemingly kept his items well protected from the elements in proper preparation for the long travel, and so she was successful in keeping that part of the job in control. It was the birds — those damnable pests — that caused her quite a bit of consternation. She had been well suited for caring for the creatures, having learned from her time around her mother’s pets, but she had never quite grown accustomed to the racket the squawking fiends could produce. How was she expected to get any work done in that noise?! But thankfully, the new day has brought better weather. She had just decided to take a break from her duties (and walking) by sitting upon the cart to read over one of the textbooks in Evermor’s collection when the fight ahead broke out, causing the entire caravan to stop. Lucienne sighed loudly and looked up from her book to observe the happenings. She recognized the man, Darvish, from her time in Chondath. She had never directly met him, thankfully, but she knew plenty about his poor etiquette and, apparently, his poor riding skill. She considered for a slight moment getting involved in the whole ordeal, if only to bring him down a peg. Of course, doing such a thing would reveal her possible involvement with the noble class, and even if her new identity did in fact hail from Chondath, she had never made mention of possible noble blood, nor would someone of her identity’s status speak out against a noble for something as trivial as proper horse care. Alas, her allies, even in their new identities, did not stray away from immediately involving themselves in the affair, earning another eyeball from Lucienne. She glanced over towards Oyn and shook her head, speaking with a slight Chondothan accent that laced her words with an elegant flow, “One would think that being of his class that he would have the gold to earn proper equestrian skill, or at least his parents would. Of course, from my observations, men of his class often prefer to practice their riding on a different, less elegant steed.” She combined a scoff with a mischievous smirk and immediately looked back to her book, allowing the whole ordeal to play out as it would. It mattered to her little. However, she did keep a side eye locked squarely on the nearest wagon she knew to be agents of the Cult, watching what they might do during the great distraction. If they ended up being distracted themselves, she would hop down from her wagon, "Since we are stopped already, I shall be back." She gave a pointed look to Evermor, indicating she may need to relieve herself and he need not ask if he felt so inclined. She made sure to pass directly near the Cult's wagon and pretended to drop something beneath the cart. With a unladylike swear, she crouched down to retrieve it and, if no one was watching, rifled beneath whatever covering the wagon had to see what she might be able to grab. Day 4 - 26 Kythorn, 1489 DR The following day was similarly pleasant, as far as travel weather goes at least. Yet, as their cart rounded the buried traitor, Luci had been drawn from her duties by the commotion caused when the obstacle is announced. For the first time, Lucienne cast a curious glance towards Evermor’s lack of interest. “Ah, a fan of caravan justice, are you? Or perhaps you do not care in the least. You should know by now that I am ever the advocate for pragmatism, but it does not always mean being heartless. What do we know of this one’s crimes, hmm? Statistically speaking, whoever the caravan driver was that decided her fate was most likely a poorly educated person in regard to law and order. With a single inquiry and a fair bit of wisdom, you may have an extra guard, free of charge, who would be willing to give their life for you in exchange for saving it.” Luci scanned Evermor for a reaction, curious if her logic and reasoning had affected him in any way. She did not expect him to exactly turn the cart around and resort to saving the haggard soul, but if he could be convinced or swayed in any manner it might work to her benefit in the future. Besides, she was far more certain that her allies (bleeding hearts that they are) would most likely take some action in the scenario, inevitably drawing attention to them. No. Best that she keep her distance for now. Day 5 - 27 Kythorn, 1489 DR Lucienne had chosen to awaken early that day, hoping to get a head start on her expected duties so that she might spend most of the morning's travel focusing on her personal studies. When the hushed words traveling through the camping caravan about a Stag reached her ears, she looked up, catching a mere glimpse at its retreating form. Odd to see a cervine beast with such a golden pelt, but not completely unheard of. Perhaps it was the gods, distantly dawdling in affairs that they were too cowardly to take an active hand in. Although, it was very possible that it was a mere stroke of luck to see such a glorious beast. Luck was the domain of her preferred goddess, though Luci rarely actively engaged in worship, and it was enough to convince her that the gathering hunting party might be taking action on something that would effect them all. She exhaled a long sigh and walked with purpose towards the gathering group. "Come now, would you truly risk the outcome of our long travels by slaying a beast that may very well represent the luck of Tymora herself? For all you know such a beast is a sign that there are good tidings on the horizon; to slay it would ensure the exact opposite. Don't be foolish; you'll doom us all for a single night's meal that would not even feed the entire caravan. There is plenty more game to be had along the trail ahead." Day 8 - 30 Kythorn, 1489 DR Lucienne listened to Evermor's explanation without looking in his direction while casting a cleaning cantrip upon herself in an attempt to rid her existence of the stench that came with road travel and avian attendance. "It makes sense, I suppose, but does not make the slow advance any more bearable. Hopefully we shall be rid of this area soon before something ba-" As if she had summoned trouble by merely speaking of it, her words were cut off by the screams of warning. "Ettercaps! Really? Curious, though not a great surprise. It was bound to happen eventually." She gave a side-eyed look towards Evermor and followed it with another long sigh, something that had become a bit of a signature for dear Lucienne. She gathered her small bag and looped it over her shoulder and spoke without looking in Evermor's direction, "Do NOT rearrange your little collection while I'm away. I've enough trouble deciphering your untenable organizational methods without you mussing up what I've already accomplished and archived. I will assist in dealing with our arachnid trespassers and be back in mere moments. Oh, and do try and keep the birds alive. I need a job to do if I am to be paid after all." With that, the young lady descended the wagon with elegance and only began gaining a haste to her step when she had already closed half the distance towards the combat. Actions Day 3 - Daniella will obviously be attempting to get a feel for what might be in the nearest dragon cult wagon IF they are already distracted (hopefully.) Day 4 - Daniella will attempt a persuasion check using intelligence (logic and reason) as her backing to get a feel for Evermor and convince him to like her, thus giving her a bit more freedom and trust when necessary. This is less to actually get him to turn around and save the 'traitor'. Day 5 - Daniella will attempt a religion check to see if this might be a sign from Tymora, and then attempt to intimidate the hunting party to give up on their attempts to hunt the Stag, whether she truly believes it to be a sign from Tymora that they are backed by fortune or not. Day 8 - Daniella is getting into that fight! Although I think you're implying that we aren't technically IN combat yet. If so, I can add in my attack later.

Ka HP: 26/26 | AC: 18 | Fort: +7 Ref: +8 Will: +6 | H-Points: 1 | Alt Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian Ka watches Hrotha closely after entering the room and declaring her half-apology at her odd speech patterns, but no response came, causing the golden eyes to narrow behind the shadow of the mask. Given her origin — before she had become…what she is now — Ka is not used to being ignored, and it surprises even herself how much it sparks her own ire. But she is a tool, now. No longer what she once was. Now she is the mask; now she is the Pharaoh’s Whisper into the ear of those whose hourglass dropped its last grains of sand. She would swallow the anger and channel it into the next fool that earned the edge of her blade. She does, however, notice the look as Hrotha mentions feeling naked and holds up the armor. She does not think of it as an implication that her clothing is less than appropriate, and considers it from a functional approach. “You may gird your own loins with the weighted skin of the dead; I shall endeavor to avoid being struck at all.” Just then, the voice rings through her mind and within half a second the Kris darts out of her cloak and is ready to attack. There is a moment of confusion before she looks down at her own form, considering something. She seems to have a silent conversation in her mind that puts her back at ease. As the others collect weapons, Ka watches them like a curious animal; the mask highlights the comparison, and given the local fauna, may be comparable to that of a fox trying to learn the meaning behind the strange actions of the society-dwelling humanoids. Throughout her scan, her eyes settle on Greyrose and she notes that he is staring at her. The corner of her lips twitch slightly upward, almost tauntingly, at him. But she says nothing. Preferring to stay towards the back, Ka waits for the others to follow in Myrthe’s path before shadowing them at a short distance. As she walked by, her eyes scanned over the fresco. If this place was as ‘ancient’ as the others said, perhaps she would know something about it. Barring that, the one whose body she currently inhabited seemed to have a wealth of knowledge on historical subjects. Whether or not it was pertinent to their current course remained to be seen.