042: Rollin' on a river

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> And so the gang floats serenely down the river. Quaint little farming towns crop up along the shore with assuring regularity should anyone wish to stop and spend a night properly indoors (though it would mean a longer trip, without the current moving you along all night). The second morning on the river, Mia does in fact rise looking much more hale and hearty than she was the day before, as predicted by Belinda. Neither volunteers an explanation for this. For her own part, Rosemund looks distracted throughout breakfast.
<Franceska> "So since we are stuck here like this for days," Franceska says bluntly after breakfast, "I don't suppose we had a chance to find out what we wanted to from that Vigilia person?"
<Steph> Stephanie scratches her head. "We really ought to ask her if she knows Jill," she suggests.
<Julia> "Oh, I forgot all about that!" Julia exclaims, blushing.
<El-Cideon> "Ah!" Rosemund brightens up immediately. "That was it. I was so caught up in the rescuing that I forgot to ask her any questions."
<Steph> "Bloodlust isn't good for your memory, after all."
<Franceska> "So just ask her now? It's not like we have anything better to do."
<Julia> "Well it was very tense, waiting for the moment to strike and everything. Wasn't much chance for conversation," Julia defends herself, looking away.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund nods. "Well, I have not had a chance to try out this spell yet," she says. "I suppose this is a good opportunity. I will ask her, hm, why she was looking for Polaris or her friends, whether she knew any of them...is there anything else that comes to mind? I only have so many words, but I can always cast the spell again if we have more questions."
<Steph> "You could ask what she's doing, too?"
<Julia> "Ask her how she is, it's only polite," Julia adds.
<Franceska> "And what happened to that Jill woman, with the betrayal?" Franceska adds, not really interested in her wellbeing.
<El-Cideon> "I will begin with the polite statements," she says. "It is only proper when someone is not expecting you to speak in her head from another world!" Another nod, and Rosemund settles in to weave a communication fit to pierce the barriers between worlds. This takes several minutes of meditation--
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100 failure chance for cross-planes
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d100 1,0failure chance for cross-planes --> 6,0[ 1d100=81 ]4,0{81}
<El-Cideon> --then Rosemund's eyes blink open in surprise. "Oh my!" she exclaims. "She says one of them killed her mother." A frown. "She did not say which one."
<Steph> "Oh. That's no good. We might be saving a murderer," muses Stephanie. "Or, well, her mother had it coming."
<Franceska> "I think we should ask which one, and add that the group stole something from your temple?"
<El-Cideon> "I do not know about that," Rosemund says uncomfortably. "I will ask her everything else, give me some time. Ah, I should have four more of these for today..."
<Julia> "But other than that, how is she?" Julia presses.
<El-Cideon> roll 4#1d100
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 4#1d100 --> 6,0[ 1d100=53 ]4,0{53}, 6,0[ 1d100=7 ]4,0{7}, 6,0[ 1d100=48 ]4,0{48}, 6,0[ 1d100=86 ]4,0{86}
<Steph> "Don't ask how she is after she's told you that! It's so... weird. 'I must avenge my parents! But otherwise I'm fine, thanks?'"
* Franceska snorts.
<Julia> "Well she might have said 'I'm fine, but the person you're asking about killed my mother'," Julia says. "There's nothing wrong with showing an interest in other people."
<Steph> "It's a serious topic, you can't make light of it with smalltalk!"
<Franceska> "Yes, it's a wonder she doesn't hate all humans as a result."
<Julia> "You can't judge an entire species like that," Julia protests. "Especially since she was just rescued by two humans the other day! From another human I'll admit, but I think it balances out."
<Franceska> "No, it's actually really easy to hate an entire species like that."
<Steph> "And then they come to kill you, but you kill them back, but it just makes someone else hate your entire species," laments Stephanie.
<Franceska> "Life is a vicious circle of hatred."
<Steph> "That's right. That's why most bonds form out of shared hate instead of mutual love," replies Stephanie, sadly.
<Franceska> "Really? I find that most bonds form out of a desire to collaborate to get the job done."
<Julia> "Well, I wouldn't say I love all of you, but I certainly like you! I suppose we all hate slavers, but we didn't even encounter any for a while after we started travelling together."
<Steph> "Well, sometimes, bonds form around a single, charismatic leader," muses Stephanie.
<Franceska> "I certainly appreciate the way Rosemund's enemies have more targets to choose from while we travel together," muses Franceska.
<El-Cideon> After near an hour staring off into space, sending and receiving messages across worlds, Rosemund snaps back to reality with the following disclosures: "In fact, she says that she has been in worse places than the City of Brass and that we should not worry about her...and that it was the elf in their group, Phibous Liramar, that killed her mother. It was, ah, a long time ago. Twenty years or so? She was a child then." Rosemund shifts uncomfortably. "She's just looking for the whole group because she does not know where he is specifically. She is traveling to the plane of Air right now. I, ah...did not mention that we know where he is, because we might need to ask him questions, and if she goes to Pandemonium and kills him, well, we can no longer do that...Although I suppose Julia could still do it." Rosemund shudders. "Anyway, Dalton turned Jill over to that erinyes in exchange for contacts, money, weapons...whatever he needed to restart the company. The erinyes was very fond of bragging...but she does not know what happened to Jill after she arrived in Baator. The erinyes seemed angry when she asked."
* Franceska snaps her fingers. "An elf! Of course."
<Steph> Stephanie sighs. "Why did the erinyes have to turn to ash? That's so fucking rude!"
<Julia> "Even if I'd animated her corpse she'd have been one too many people for us to plane shift," Julia shrugs.
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps you should interrogate devils before killing them next time?" Rosemund offers politely.
<Franceska> "But they can run away...."
<Steph> "Isn't there a spell for that?"
<Franceska> "It's not a very good spell."
<El-Cideon> "There is," Rosemund says. "Should I try and learn it someday?"
<Franceska> "You might as well. It would be better than using some wand for it."
<Julia> "It would be useful," Julia agrees. "In fact, assuming the erinyes suffered a demotion I might well be able to summon her... ah, it more likely. Though how much the new form will recall of the old I'm not sure."
<El-Cideon> She nods. "Should I...tell Vigilia that we know where this elf went, when I can cast the spell again tomorrow? It would save her some time and trouble..."
<Franceska> "How about asking her if she would like to retrieve Jill, first?"
<El-Cideon> "I will suggest that," Rosemund concludes.
<Julia> "Why don't we tell her when we're planning to go to Pandemonium and see if she wants to come along?" Julia suggests.
<Steph> "Were we planning to go there next?" says Stephanie. "I mean, I'm not opposed. I feel like we'll need better gear to handle Baator, you know?"
<El-Cideon> "Ah!" Julia's suggestion seems to ease Rosemund's conscience. "I believe that will do."
<Julia> "I thought Baator since we just went to the trouble of learning about Jill. But if we want to go to Pandemonium next I'm not averse."
<Steph> "Mmm. That was the plan," says Stephanie. "But honestly, I don't regret this trip one bit. And this guy might, um, help us, too. If he's not a murderer. And if he's not insane."
<Franceska> "First thing, we should really return home once we fulfilled our duties here," Franceska says.
<Julia> "Alright. We'll need to stock up on earplugs first but that shouldn't be hard."
<Steph> "Well, yes." Stephanie hangs her head. "There's so much to do, so little time. Argh, I should've told that angel about the creepy Modron place! But surely they know about it already? But they wouldn't just let that happen, right?"
<El-Cideon> "How will we communicate with one another while we are there?" Rosemund wonders. "Should we all learn sign language?"
<Steph> "Not a bad idea. Thera could teach us, I guess?"
<Julia> "Or we can just carry chalkboards around?"
<Steph> "Takes too long, and chalk runs out."
<Steph> "Anyway, aren't you wizards? Can't we just use the margins in your spellbooks?"
<El-Cideon> "My only spellbook is the sun!" Rosemund protests.
<Franceska> "The same spell that kept us from getting burnt should do the trick there," Franceska muses.
<Julia> "It's instinct for me. I suppose we can all brush up on our pantomine... oh, or that, yes," Julia nods, relieved.
<El-Cideon> Morning and afternoon pass without incident. You pass one village after another, and any residents witnessed are always quick with a friendly wave as you drift on by. Near the end of the day, insofar as one can guess the time on a world without dawn or dusk--
<El-Cideon> roll 1d7
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d7 --> 6,0[ 1d7=2 ]4,0{2}
<El-Cideon> --without any warning, the raft jolts to a sudden halt, jarring off-balance anyone unfortunate enough to be sitting or standing near the edge of the raft at that time.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Fran, roll ref?
<Franceska> roll 1d20+3
<Rei-chan> 6,0Franceska rolled :6,0 1d20+3 --> 6,0[ 1d20=4 ]4,0{7}
<El-Cideon> Fran tumbles off the raft into the current, starting to be borne away by the river as the raft mysteriously lolls about in place!
<Franceska> Brimming with hate, Franceska turns into a white shark and swims after the raft.
<Julia> "Aaah!" Julia jerks up at the sudden jostling, looking around in brief panic before she discerns that the only person to fall in was the person best equipped to deal with the water.
<Steph> Stephanie almost bites her tongue laughing, but then turns more attention to the raft. "Did we hit a rock or something?" she mutters, clambering over to peer at the front.
* Franceska can only wait for someone to stop the raft so she doesn't have to risk overturning it by climbing on board.
* Julia grabs the pole and brings the raft to the side of the river so it can stop and take its missing passenger back on board.
<El-Cideon> "Franceska!" Rosemund exclaims with concern (evidently without cause, as Franceska transforms). On the surface, Stephanie can see that the raft is jammed on some sort of metal fin? Underwater, Franceska can discern that this is the crest on a helmet worn by a very tall, vaguely human creature--black metal skin, gearwork, golden armor. Without much apparent concern, it reaches up massive hands to rudely dislodge the raft from its headgear before slogging on impassively across the riverbed.
<Steph> "Waah! What the fuck?!" sputters Stephanie, holding her arms out to keep her balance.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund kneels down by the edge of the raft, ready with hand outstretched to draw Franceska back up whenever she should find her way back.
<Franceska> Hoping that Stephanie might fall in herself, Franceska climbs back as she transforms into her human form with Rosemund's help.
* Julia staggers a bit but the pole helps keep her upright. Looking over at the fin she exclaims, "Fish! Big metal fish!"
<Franceska> "Why are there people just standing in the river, submerged?!"
<El-Cideon> "It was a person?" Rosemund asks with a blink.
<Steph> Stephanie blinks. "I dunno... maybe to hide?"
<Julia> "A metal fish person?"
<Franceska> "A metal person, person."
<El-Cideon> OOC: K:A applies if interested
<Julia> roll 1d20+15
<Rei-chan> 6,0Julia rolled :6,0 1d20+15 --> 6,0[ 1d20=1 ]4,0{16}
<Steph> roll 1d20+5
<Rei-chan> 6,0Steph rolled :6,0 1d20+5 --> 6,0[ 1d20=5 ]4,0{10}
<El-Cideon> Julia and Stephanie aren't coming up with anything specific from that description alone. Wizardy's produced all sorts of artificial people!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+14 oh right Rosey has this
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+14 1,0oh right Rosey has this --> 6,0[ 1d20=20 ]4,0{34}
<El-Cideon> Rosemund watches the golden fin wend its way across the river as the raft drifts on. Paired with Franceska's description, she concludes: "Maybe it was an inevitable? Maruts have golden armor...they hunt down people who cheat death and that sort of thing." With an apologetic smile for Julia's sensibilities, she adds: "Ah, people who are much more extravagant and criminal about it, that is."
* Franceska gives Julia a suspicious look at that.
<Steph> "Heaven is watching you~"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund tries to be encouraging: "So, so if you ever manage to do that, now you know that you should invest in proper anti-robot defenses for your lair?"
<Julia> "Well, I haven't put it to the test yet... but yes, anti-robot defences sound good!"
<Steph> "You could arm your skeletons with wrenches!"
<Julia> "Adamantine ones."
<Franceska> "Expensive but sensible."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund stands up, frowns after the vanished construct. "But they are not really native to Arcadia...maybe it is hunting someone right now?"
<Steph> "Sucks to be them, I guess?" says Stephanie, blinking. "I mean, seriously, do they only go after people who deserve it, or what?"
<Julia> "I doubt people would cheat death where the death enforcing robots live," Julia says.
<Franceska> "I don't remember doing anything that would send Mechanus after me."
<El-Cideon> "They are supposed to enforce laws and the like," Rosemund confirms. "And hunt people that break them? But that must be awfully confusing when so many different people have different laws...I think that they are just concerned with big things, like keeping your word and...I suppose dying when you are supposed to?"
<Franceska> "Do you know if any enforce people being turned into stone and staying that way?"
<Steph> "It's not against the law to lie, you know, Rosie."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund shakes her head. "It might not be against the law, but it would still be wrong," she replies to Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "Well," she amends, recalling past adventures, "maybe it is not wrong when it is for a good cause. And when someone other than myself is doing it." She nods confidently.
<Julia> "We're above laws we don't like anyway, I think we've well established that with our anti-slavery crusade," Julia says, sitting down once more.
* Franceska frowns.
<Steph> "It's not always wrong," protests Stephanie. "Sometimes you have to lie for the greater good!"
<El-Cideon> With all possible respect, Rosemund answers: "I will leave the lying to you, Stephanie. I am not as good at it."
<Franceska> "But Stephanie's lies are so random," Franceska complains. "Why do you need to turn into a male dwarf to even lie?"
<Steph> "It's fun to be a dwarf. You can be all surly, and act like you're drunk all the time, and nobody bats an eye?"
<Julia> "I'm sure that's equally true for tieflings," Julia says.
<El-Cideon> The next morning, Rosemund attempts another communication to Vigilia:
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d100 --> 6,0[ 1d100=94 ]4,0{94}
<El-Cideon> Rosemund's expression on receiving response is odd: "She says that her friends would not let her travel to Baator."
<Julia> "Can't blame them for being overprotective after she just got captured," Julia shrugs. "What about Pandemonium, though?"
<El-Cideon> "I did not mention that yet," Rosemund says with a blink. "I thought we were going to offer when we prepared to venture there ourselves? But I can ask if you like."
<Julia> "I suppose it can wait till we're back in Solata. That could take weeks after all considering the inaccuracy of plane shifting."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is not wholly successful in concealing her wounded pride.
<Franceska> "Say, we did plan on paying Air a visit. Perhaps we could arrange a time and place to meet there?"
<Steph> "This really runs into the same problem, regarding time," replies Stephanie, with a shrug.
<El-Cideon> "I will simply tell her that we plan to go there in the near future and that if she is still there when we arrive, we may be of mutual assistance," Rosemund concludes, pausing to transmit just that.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d100 --> 6,0[ 1d100=88 ]4,0{88}
<El-Cideon> "It is very pleasant so she may wait," Rosemund responds to the team.
<Franceska> "At least where it comes to Solata, I can teleport us back without any delay," Franceska asserts. "Someone might need to walk, though."
<Julia> "I have a teleport scroll as well. I'd rather save it for an emergency though."
<Franceska> "The prospect of walking for weeks is surely an emergency!"
<Steph> Stephanie rubs her eyes. "I've seen your blood was red, not blue. But when you say things like that, I have to question my memory."
<Julia> "We might be able to hire a carriage or something."
<El-Cideon> "You would surely benefit from the exercise, Franceska," Rosemund says, just as the skies open up with a sudden downpour of rain. No warning sprinkle of moisture or encroaching gray clouds, just immediate rain as if someone had flipped a switch on schedule.
<El-Cideon> Mia produces an umbrella and huddles under it with her mistress.
<Franceska> Glaring at Rosemund, Franceska asks, "What is that supposed to mean?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund blinks innocently, quite ignoring the rain suddenly washing down her face. "I meant only what I said! Proper exercise is an invigorating and enlivening habit to maintain!"
* Julia huddles up miserably under the downpour.
* Franceska grits her teeth and waits the storm out.
<El-Cideon> Grey hunches up pathetically next to her new employer and waits out the storm in silence. It is, should one happen to consult a clock, precisely an hour before the storm disperses with as much suddenness as it arrived. "Very punctual weather here," Belinda observes with a dryness those bereft of an umbrella can only envy.
<Franceska> "You should keep a list of the things one should bring along while traveling," Franceska tells Grey. "Or consult with Mia, I suppose. We'll just get two of everything once back in civilization."
<Julia> "Who would think to bring a raincoat to the plane of fire?" Julia moans, looking rather soaked and bedraggled.
<Steph> "You're not going to have her be travelling with us after this, are you?" says Stephanie, frowning.
<El-Cideon> "Umbrella," Grey quietly adds to a mental list. Wringing out her sodden skirt, she contributes: "Towel. Change of clothes."
<Franceska> "For now, here is a change of clothing," Franceska tells Grey, retrieving her spare vestment. To Stephanie, she says, "Not where it comes to our business, but I might presumably have other reasons to travel."
<El-Cideon> "Er." The young woman looks less than comfortable about the prospect of changing with other eyes in the vicinity. "Thank you, milady," she manages.
<Franceska> "I don't get sick anymore, so you can use it more. That's all it is."
<El-Cideon> She nods, turns her back on the group and sheds her soaked maid uniform for something probably fancier if it's part of Franceska's wardrobe (and, more importantly, dryer).
<El-Cideon> "Where else are you bound after this?" Belinda asks conversationally.
<Franceska> While fancy in its own right, the main draw of the Vestment of Many Styles for Franceska had been its ability to comfortably adjust to the wearer's desires. "A good question," she responds to Belinda. "I'm hoping for a return home myself."
<El-Cideon> "It is winter there now," Rosemund adds. "I miss the snow, after Fire!"
<Franceska> "I miss staying at home."
<Julia> "I'm not looking forward to smelling Friday," Julia says morosely, the trip having long outlasted the duration of her preservation spell. "And I hope Thing hadn't gotten into any trouble."
<El-Cideon> "You know, Franceska, one day, when you are an old woman at home, you will look back on our trip and be glad that you saw all these strange places while you were still young," Rosemund says. "Even if some of them were filled with horrible people."
<Franceska> "How optimistic of you to expect me to live all the way to old age."
<El-Cideon> "Do you have other plans?" Rosemund wonders.
<Franceska> "My chances of being horribly murdered while traveling to all these strange places of horrible people are too high for comfort."
<Steph> "Do you want us to raise you?" asks Stephanie, brightly.
<El-Cideon> "But I will not let you STAY murdered!" Rosemund protests.
<Franceska> "I suppose I wouldn't object if Rosemund did it. But there are ways to get murdered you can't come back from."
<El-Cideon> "We will simply have to learn what they are and make special effort to avoid them," Rosemund concludes.
<Steph> "And if it looks like one is about to happen, be sure to quickly kill yourself," adds Stephanie.
* Franceska sighs. "Yes, and the same goes for being captured by those slavers."
<Julia> "Oh really now. You can turn into a bear. What slaver could possibly hold you?" Julia asks.
<Steph> "The kind that specialize in circuses?"
<Franceska> "They only need to be lucky the once. Also, Stephanie, go die in a fire."
<El-Cideon> "Is that not rather difficult for a tiefling?" Rosemund speculates innocently.
<Franceska> "It will take some creativity."
<Steph> "It really just takes more fire," mutters Stephanie. "I still burn, you know."
<El-Cideon> Days pass, no doubt the party keeps itself occupied with similar smalltalk throughout, and finally you reach something grander than pastoral villages. The river here joins up with another--this one small, a glorified stream losing itself in the larger flow--and at the juncture is a town. Large, but not sprawling in the familiar Solati manner. Even afar you can discern the streets to be perfectly grid-based, and there are no city walls of the sort a town on the Prime might need to maintain. Docks thrust out into the river, mostly modest to entertain small river craft such as your own. "At last," Belinda proclaims. "Might we stay here an evening? I ache for a real bed."
<Franceska> "How far are we from our destination, in any case?"
<El-Cideon> "Per our directions, a couple days further," she recalls. "We'll need to walk the rest of the way, as we move against the current of the Sten," she nods to the smaller tributary.
<Julia> "I won't argue with that," Julia says, starting to pole their raft towards one of the docks.
<Steph> "No objections!" proclaims Stephanie. "I need new socks and have a desire for scones."
<Franceska> "Perhaps Stephanie could even sell the raft to pay for our stay here?"
<El-Cideon> Scones are to be found in plenty! Bankside has every manner of common shop one might desire, and its citizens are aggressively friendly. You're hardly off the docks before you're greeted by residents with wave and welcome and even occasional handshake.
<Steph> "You bought it, you sell it," replies Stephanie, rolling her eyes. "I've got scones to eat!"
<Franceska> "She does that on purpose, I swear," Franceska mutters, looking for anyone at the docks who might want a raft.
* Julia goes looking for food along with Stephanie, although she'd rather a more substantial meal than mere scones.
<El-Cideon> The nearest common house in sight goes by the name of Hammer and Anvil; down the street are similarly professional-sounding establishments like the Quill and Seal, Bright Home...Franceska's craft provokes some dubious looks (most of the local rivermen favoring proper barges), but she does find one generous soul willing to take whatever Franceska originally paid for it.
<Franceska> Her opinion of other planes is somewhat improved as a result, and Franceska looks for an inn where she could get a nice room with decent facilities for taking a bath and then eating a proper dinner.
<El-Cideon> Proper hygiene is clearly a much-favored virtue on Arcadia--the citizens of Bankside are uniformly well-scrubbed and trimmed, and the first place Franceska walks into (the Hammer and Anvil) does in fact demonstrate proper bathing facilities. The owner seems perplexed that the question even need be asked.
* Franceska pays for herself and Grey, finding herself pleasantly surprised!
<El-Cideon> "A proper respect for civilized living here, one may concede that much," Belinda agrees as she pays for a room for herself and Mia.
<Steph> For her part, Stephanie decides to find a place where she can observe how flirting and dating play out between people in this so-called perfect, orderly society. "I think it must be boring if you know everyone around you is honest," she confides to Julia.
<Franceska> "And there might even be all the supplies we might want here," Franceska muses. "How delightful!"
<Julia> "But everyone is honest and expects everyone else to be honest, wouldn't that give any liars a massive advantage?" Julia asks, uncaring about the social aspect of life here just so long as she gets to put a filling meal in her stomach.
<El-Cideon> The lunchtime crowd at work on drinks and meals in the common room is probably the most well-behaved that Stephanie has ever witnessed. The average Bankside citizen is properly-tailored (if simply dressed) and works through their meals efficiently and cleanly. It is difficult to imagine any of the residents, for example, throwing a mug, starting a brawl to relieve boredom, pinching a barmaid, or any of the other common taproom hijinks that might break out in high spirits at a Solati tavern. From what Stephanie can discern, courtship is straightforward and formalized.
<El-Cideon> And of course, there's hot stew and meat and bread available for those just wishing to silence midday hunger!
<Steph> "Yeah, but it'd be like kicking a puppy," replies Stephanie. "And I get the feeling that when the lie is eventually revealed, as they always are, it could actually get really nasty..."
<Julia> "Oh yes. Remember, people here are more lawful than they are good. Any wrongdoing likely won't get much mercy," Julia nods, tucking into her stew.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund settles down next to Stephanie and Julia with a steaming bowl of her own. "Let us not find out?" she suggests.
<Steph> "Yeah, I don't think we're gonna find anyone's type here," says Stephanie, grinning.
<El-Cideon> "What is your 'type?'" Rosemund is obliged to ask.
<Steph> "You know, I really thought it would be like Anton, but it didn't fit at all!" says Stephanie. "I suppose you shouldn't just look for someone like yourself?" She clucks her tongue. "Someone serious... focused, maybe? So serious that you'd feel flattered they have time for you instead of the thing they're serious about, you know?"
<El-Cideon> "You are looking for a person that thinks he is better than you?" Rosemund concludes, sounding confused.
<Steph> "No!" replies Stephanie, frowning. "Oh, you just don't get it. You know, like a master pianist who puts everything into his music... someone with that kind of devotion to something? I think that intense sort of personality is interesting!" She frowns. "But not a priest. I don't want to play second to a god."
<Julia> "An intense personality is appealing," Julia agrees. "I like a man with passion. I suppose we don't need to ask what your type is though, do we Rosemund?" she smiles slyly at their own priestess.
<El-Cideon> "Ohhh," Rosemund nods with understanding. "Well, I suppose I can understand that. It is good for him to have goals, so long as he still has time for you." Rosemund blinks at Julia. "Excuse me, Julia?"
<Julia> "Gold skin, silver hair, glowing eyes... I saw how you were looking at that angel earlier!"
<El-Cideon> "Well--well it is only polite to look a person in the eye while you are speaking to him!" Rosemund protests.
<Steph> "I don't think angels date," muses Stephanie. "But aasimar do!"
<El-Cideon> "Oh," Rosemund says with disappointment, before rebounding. "But Stephanie, that must not be true, otherwise how, well, otherwise how are there aasimar in the first place?"
<Julia> "I'm sure if you're particularly pious and upstanding you can draw the attention of an angel, just like the particularly heinous and vile can get lucky with an erinyes," Julia says, smiling at Rosemund's protestations.
<El-Cideon> "You think so?" Rosemund asks, grabbing on to a promising thread.
<Julia> "I'm certain. Just like Stephanie said, Aasimar have to come from somewhere, don't they?"
<Steph> "Don't even think it, Rosie. Aasimar are always raised by single parent at best," warns Stephanie. "And let's not forget that some deviant magi like to have their way with them."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund gives Stephanie a skeptical look. "Is that true? It does not sound very...saintly of them to not worry about their children..."
<Julia> "Well, aasimar are more like great grandchildren. It's the half-celestials that are the actual children."
<Steph> "Oh, yeah... well, anyway, Rosemund, I think having an angel for a parent would be... weird. Talk about high expectations!"
<El-Cideon> "It gives you something to aspire to!" Rosemund counters.
<Steph> "That'll twist up a kid!" protests Stephanie. "Because they'll never be able to live up to that, and it'll eat them from the inside!"
<Julia> "Surely an angel would be forgiving and understanding of any little foibles, though?"
<El-Cideon> "I am sure!" Rosemund enthusiastically agrees with Julia.
<Steph> Stephanie shakes her head. "The angel might be," she agrees. "But.. well, I'm no authority on parenting, I guess."
<El-Cideon> "I do not remember mine," Rosemund admits. "...But I think that I turned out just fine!"
<Julia> "I've turned out as well as can be expected... and certainly through no fault of my parents!"
<Steph> Stephanie grabs another scone.
<El-Cideon> Hot meals, hot baths, and warm beds having served everyone well over a welcoming evening back in civilization, the group collects again the next morning to set out south towards Tranquil Valley. There is a road here, well trodden and well maintained, snaking along the riverbank in perfect unison. Your internal clocks would suggest it's in the vicinity of noon the next day when you encounter fellow travelers moving in your direction: there's one man in the lead wearing the finery of a priest over armor, starting to accumulate a heavy count of years but still solid and formidable of build, with the symbol of a cross barred within a circle embroidered on his tabard; behind him march a dozen in the simple, roughspun garb of mendicant devotees.
* Franceska is just thankful that Julia has a spell that lets priests and angels ignore her.
<Steph> Stephanie shudders. "Let's not talk to these people," she mutters, sounding annoyed. "I can't stand these guys."
* Julia nods agreeably, walking on by without so much as a friendly hello.
<El-Cideon> "Hm?" Rosemund murmurs. "It would be rude not to at least say hello," she whispers conspiratorially. "They dislike rudeness here!"
<Steph> "But what about what I dislike, Rosemund? They're from Cuthbert's church!"
<El-Cideon> Belinda chuckles with ill humor. "My dear, that is where we're going," she says quietly.
<Steph> Stephanie sputters with outrage. "Seriously? Here? In Arcadia?"
<Julia> "Ohh... this could get awkward," Julia says morosely.
<Franceska> "I really don't see why," Franceska speaks up. "We'll get there, and then we'll leave."
<El-Cideon> "Good morrow to you all!" Rosemund happily greets the strangers on the party's behalf as they approach. The priest respectably has his train clear the road for your group and bows pleasantly. "Good morrow, young woman," he booms in a strong voice. "Bound for Tranquil Valley?"
<Franceska> "Yes," Franceska responds. "How far are we?"
<Steph> Stephanie resolves, for once in her life, to not to act with petulant rudeness.
<El-Cideon> "Yes, sir!" is all Rosemund says as she tromps on by, almost visibly hoping none of her friends decide to start anything unpleasant.
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps thirty miles yet," the priest answers. "There's shelter midway between Bankside and the valley for those who need it. Of course, my lads here are obliged to brave the elements," he adds.
<Julia> "That's us, off to tranquil valley," Julia agrees, giving the priest a smile as she walks after Rosemund. "Thanks for the tip."
<Franceska> "Thank you," Franceska says politely, and then proceeds after the others.
<El-Cideon> Belinda asks one question in parting: "How fares Father Grisham these days?" To which the priest's perplexed response: "Dead nearly these twenty years, milady. Father Brandeis leads the congregation now." Belinda rallies with condolences before parting. "I have been away many years," she admits. "Fare thee well," she adds before rejoining the party on its way.
<Franceska> If he died there, in his heaven, wouldn't he just show up somewhere nearby?
* Franceska shakes her head, deciding to keep it a mystery.
<El-Cideon> "Well," Belinda concludes further down the road, "it should have no impact on my business."
<El-Cideon> The trail of acolytes disappears behind you, and just as night falls you come upon a small cottage--deserted, but evidently kept in good condition by someone. There are beds, and a modest supply of food and water.
<Franceska> "When were you here last?" Franceska decides to inquire with Belinda. "Was that with your sister?"
<Julia> Does it have a kitchen?
<El-Cideon> It has a simple oven, should someone require one. Grey converges upon it immediately.
<Julia> "Let me help, we'll make a pie," Julia tells Grey, moving to join her at the oven.
<El-Cideon> "Let me see," Belinda recalls, claiming a bed and sitting upon it. "Twenty-two years? Twenty-three? The family resided here briefly before moving on to Fire."
<El-Cideon> Grey gives Julia a shy smile for the help.
<El-Cideon> OOC: roll for cooking skills?!
<Franceska> "Did you move due to rude angels?"
<Julia> roll 1d20+15
<Rei-chan> 6,0Julia rolled :6,0 1d20+15 --> 6,0[ 1d20=6 ]4,0{21}
<El-Cideon> Belinda plays with a ring on her right hand. "Angels may in fact be confounded by some simple charms, as you yourself plainly realize. No, this was only ever meant to be a temporary abode."
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+6 Grey aids!
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+6 1,0Grey aids! --> 6,0[ 1d20=7 ]4,0{13}
<Franceska> "Where did you move from, if you don't mind the question?"
<Steph> Stephanie peers at Belinda, from her leaning position against a wall. "How come you picked Fire? It's such a nasty place, I can't imagine living there..."
<El-Cideon> "Our benefactor had friends there," she answers Stephanie first. "If you arrive with wealth enough to start a new life, Brass is not such an awful place." To Franceska, she simply raises an eyebrow. "Our parents chose questionable allegiances and were ultimately obliged to flee in some haste. Where from is rather academic now."
<Franceska> "Ah, is that so? I was hoping that you still had a contact or two left, which would turn it from merely academic to helpful."
<El-Cideon> Quite oblivious to the inquiries going on around them, Julia and Grey busy themselves piecing together a savory confection while everyone else talks. Ultimately, a piping hot apple pie that would do any professional baker proud is pulled from the oven to spill its rich aroma all about the cottage.
<El-Cideon> Belinda shakes her head. "Father Grisham might've done. His successor, I cannot say, but one trusts my sister's final request is no less secure with him."
* Julia cuts up the pie so Grey can serve it out to everyone, wishing she had some cream to go with it. But still, the pie itself is tasty enough to do her.
<Franceska> "Less final than we originally expected, I presume? Since you would be bringing her back?"
<El-Cideon> Belinda raises an eyebrow. "Only if you brought her body with you. And even so, a difficult task when one has been gone for some years. But enough macabre talk. It seems we've dessert to tend to?"
<El-Cideon> "That smells wonderful!" Rosemund exclaims, swooping in for her share.
<El-Cideon> Grey hands out a slice for everyone, looking quietly proud of the excited reaction.
<Franceska> There are certainly spells that don't need a body, but since Belinda clearly isn't interested far be it for Franceska to embarrass her by inquiring further. So she drops the matter at Belinda's request, and smiles at Grey when she's given her own plate of pie.
<El-Cideon> It is quite delicious! For someone keen on spending her life as a walking corpse, Julia is surprisingly good at feeding the living.
<Julia> Everyone has to have a hobby!
<Franceska> They live in a crazy world.
<El-Cideon> ~