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Terrors of the Void (Part 2)


Cointhief

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image.jpeg.991630491a8ab3e6abe3474031be646f.jpegStarhaven (Celsior)

Crossing the land bridge leading to Andru's palace, the Prince felt like he was traipsing forth to another world. A familiar world of cutthroat etiquette, triplicate forms, and snobby postures of power...where quick handshake deals could foil weeks of real governance, and the silent brooding master plans of political geniuses ever-churned beneath the surface.

High court.

By appearances Andru was neither the hardened spacer nor the wasteful hedonist of his forefathers. He embraced pomp and the noble-class, the good majority of government levers in the hand of his council.

It was one such agent that found Celsior, and attempted to correct his most grievous errors.

"...I'm sorry, were you here representing the Fleet, or representing Alfheim? And you are carrying a letter of pedigree I assume, properly notarized? Hrm. Did you have a statement prepared?" Apparently the twit had a game. The longer he stood there, the more excuses to deny entry he would come up with.

But Celsior had all the right documents. He really was the Prince of Alfheim.


Question remains though, are you here as Fleet or as Prince? Or at least, what do you tell this middle man?

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spacer.pngCelsior Loriniscil, Prince of Alfheim

AC 19 | Inspiration Yes | HP 42/42 | HD 6/6d6
Str 8 | Dex 16 | Con 14 | Int 18 | Wis 10 | Cha 10
Step 3/3 | Shield 0/1 | Bladesong 2/3 | Recovery 3/3
Spellcasting +8 DC 16 | Cantrips | 1st 4/4 | 2nd 3/3 | 3rd 3/3


Starhaven

The closer and closer Celsior gets to the palace, the more and more comfortable and confident he becomes with the courtly battles. He had spent decades in this arena, before his queen and mother allowed him to enter the fleet academy, so that he could experience the universe.

When addressed by the doorman, he cloaks himself in his well-practiced, royal etiquette. "Prince of Alfheim. I've my scroll of pedigree here."

"My business is with the prince." His voice drips with condescension at the gall of the bureaucrat to demand his papers.


Mechanics

Active effects Familiar, Light
Action -
Reaction Cast Shield if it matters increasing AC from 19 to 24

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Plasmoid.jpg.2a97192db590b36ed168657a4f2abba8.jpg Yahs Anirys Plasmoid Monk (Way of Mercy) 6 CG

AC: 16 | HP: 46/46 | HD: 6/6 | PP: 13 | Inspiration: Yes | Speed: 45 ft | GP: 60
Str 10 (0) Dex 18 (4) Con 12 (1) Wis 16 (3) Int 11 (0) Cha 10 (0)

Attacks: Spear (P)1d20+7;1d6+4 | Unarmed(B) 1d20+7;1d6+4 | Sling(B)1d20+7;1d4+4 | Quarterstaff-Mop(B) 1d20+7;1d6+4
Magic: Sacred Flame (DEX vs DC13; 1d8) | Shield of Faith(Bonus; +2AC) | Ki Pool: 5/5


Send in the Clowns...

"Ah!" Yahs' head suddenly bursts into a series of startled spikes making her look like a rubbery mace dressed in a floppy hat and Fleet uniform. "What? Oh..." She turns to Rush after he taps her. Slowly she morphs herself back into her usual, slightly melted human face. The gun lowers, but her internal fluids are still percolating like an overheated coffee pot. "Sorry. I didn't realize you meant to drop in on an actual circus with *gack* real blasted clowns. I really don't care for clowns. Not since....the...I just don't like 'em."

She shakes her head, holsters the pistol which continues to grumble and mumble in her head while gripping her mop with a warning glare at any mime or painted face that gets too near. "Another step closer and its a face full of Spit and Shine Premium Lemon Fresh to wipe that bloody makeup right off." She adds with a flourish of the business end of her mop.

Turning back to Rush she gives the racer a terse nod. "A reasonable deduction. I wouldn't put it past this lot to get their kicks by bumping off a trio of philosophy students. There's nothing clowns...and mimes...like less than a logical debate. Ask your questions. They'll probably answer with a blasted limerick or some nonsense, but it's worth a shot." She says trying to watch every direction at once. But for the moment she manages to maintain a certain amount of calm. "Then let's get the hells out of here."

 

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Jerrolt

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My words | My thoughts | My Actions

AC 16 HP 69/69 Speed 25 ft., PP 12 PInv 9 PIns 12
Astral Spark ●○○ Second Wind Action Surge
Arcane Shot ●○

Starcharts of Souls

Jerrolt considers the shopkeeper's words regarding his uncle Rebus, he makes grunting noises carefully and does not find what he says at fault but does not agree on the conclusion, ultimately. "Wildspace does change a soul. But if the journey alone is enough to determine what we are, many of us would be greater than we are: yet so few answer up to their potential. What we become is often in our own hands, and hand on my musket, I will forge my own path, darkness or no. No script yet offered me satisfies." He bows, when the time to depart comes, and follows along, wondering who Mirt is.


Big Trouble in Little Shoutown

"Back from Merc patrol, and richer for it: I have come into information as well as my regular pay, for what any of it is worth." He takes the zhajiangmian and begins by mixing the vegetables and meat into the noodles, before picking up a large mix of noodles, wrapping the desired effect inside of its snakey confines, and devouring it loudly. "Mmm. This is why I come back from Wildspace."

He gets to the point, his countenance changing. "Sadly no, I will not be visiting Toril for some time. There is... Hm. I met some travelers who brought with them a worrying tale. A crystal vine has launched itself out of Toril's side, and more are popping up across the world just like it, if the tale is to be believed. I believe the world is being devoured, for what purpose I know not. But it may be wise to get word to your kinfolk of that world, for their preservation and your sanity. I would hate to stain these noodles with tears, knowing I could do something to help stop that."


Word on the Stars

If there's one thing he needs, it's the word on the Rock and the Coster's is the best place to get it. What is going on in the wider Astral Sea? What are the trends? And where are the best places to get new types of munitions for him to murder with? He wanders, listening, sometimes talking, sometimes invoking the family name to hear more than he otherwise would.

It's a dirty business, and sometimes, it's the best way to hear about what's going on in the wider world.

Out of Character

Situational: See rolls below for the social stuff at Coster's
Move: 
Action: 
Bonus Action: 
Reaction:
Ongoing Effects/Conditions:

Name
Deception with Advantage
22
keep(2d20,highest,1)+4 [18,10]
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