You head back to your room. You find Finnegan waiting just outside of it, hood drawn and Val resting against the wall. "Moore." He greets you with a raise of his hand, a lazy half-wave.
"Oh, hello." Moore nods to them both. "What can I do for you?"
"You're a damned good bard," Finnegan says, "Figured I'd offer to buy you a drink. You're the types that make my job easier."
"Come now, you wouldn't both be here if this was just to pat me on the back." Moore says with a wry smile. "However, let's discuss what it is you're here to talk about over something to eat."
Cresea's shop full of people. You get a table in the back, away from all the noise. Finnegan goes for a glass of wine and nothing else. "Getting to know the people who I fight with is the point," he says after a good sip of it, his hood pushed back. His elven ears point up and back as he looks at you keenly. "If we fight together, we'll be trusting each other with our lives."
Whoops, I thought you'd meant Finnegan and Vel. Tee hee.
Moore orders some pastries and a tart juice to balance the meal.
"All right, well, what would you like to know?" Moore asks with a smile. "Or where would you like me to start?"
No, Val's the name of his spear.
"You start. I've never met a bard that's bad about talking about himself," Finnegan invites.
"Hah!" Moore laughs at that. "All right. I'd always been a little different -- even when I was back in Arborea. The regular life of pranking people and giggling all the time just didn't really do it for me. I found a great deal of joy and harmony from helping other people and found out rather quickly that it was pretty lucrative, too. Just a few words of encouragement and you could turn a dwarf into the most charming person you've ever met! I mean, not that dwarves aren't charming, but... you know what I mean."
Moore takes a break to eat a pastry. "Basically, I learned pretty quickly that I both liked to help people and I excelled at it, so it sort of became my thing."
"Hah," Finnegan returns dryly, "The stereotypes are there for a reason with dwarves. So this is your natural talent, your calling?"
Moore nods. "Yes, I think that's a safe way to put it. I recently discovered a unique -- well, I guess it's not that unique, but, details." He waves his hand and rolls his eyes like details aren't even remotely important. "I've recently come to better control some powers over fate and destiny that seem to be able to further enhance the abilities of individuals."
"Like the Duke of Destiny?" Finnegan adds back with a scowl. "Used to much better ends."
"Much smaller scale than that -- but yes, same idea. I'm sure if I pursue it to its fullest, I could rival Taelfagn..." Moore trails off for a bit as he looks down, then he takes a resolute breath. "That's a road that is long away. For right now, I revel in being able to counter his plans by sheer persistence and helping my allies more than he helps his."
"All we can do in a war like this." Finnegan says, drinking. "Ugly sort of war, since you're fighting against plots and plants and schemes. Tough to get a clean battle against the bastards who matter."
"I've found that doing things unexpectedly seems to cause them a great deal of trouble." Moore says. "They can't predict every outcome, it seems -- which makes sense, you can't be omniscient even if you wanted to be, really. But you're right, it's not easy since you have to think several steps ahead... and sometimes even backwards to predict what's going on."
"You can, I knew a wizard who managed it." Finnegan reflects, sloshing what's left of his wine in his glass. "He knew everything that was going on in ten miles, but he didn't have enough mental augmentation to handle it. Within 5 seconds he'd destroyed his mind. It was a long time ago, anyway. Even if you manage it, that's just the present and not the past or the future."
"Yeah, exactly, so it's not really practical." Moore says with a chuckle. "So what's your story, Finnegan? It occurs to me I've been here for a while but I don't really know that many people."
"I'm Jaela's bodyguard," Finnegan says, then tsks, "A ceremonial position if there was ever one. She's a natural valkyrie, a warrior maiden bound to war. Before that I was part of Val'Finnegan, a spear she had. It's a long story."
Moore blinks, then starts laughing again. "Yes, it sounds like it would be. So what do you specialize in? It isn't actually spears, is it?"
"It is. Val's my spear," Finnegan reaches over and pats it, "Though I'm an elf of many talents." He picks up Val and hurls it with one hand, a cry out as it arcs over the head of diners. Just as it's about to start falling, he flexes his fingers and it returns to his hand. "Sorry," he says casually, raising his hand in apology as he gets a few dozen dirty looks. "For instance."
Moore laughs again. "So were you turned -into- a spear or were you a spear originally?"
"Merged with it. It really is a long story," Finnegan says, "Jaela gave a little of herself to reverse that, as well as Val'Finnegan, one of her favored weapons."
Moore nods. "Got it. So what do you typically do in your spare time?"
"Practice," Finnegan says after a beat, "Blacksmithing, cards. Mostly practice, though. The way of a hero demands it." He finishes his wine off and puts the glass aside, twirling it between his fingers before he does. "It's more practical blacksmithing than making weapons or armor, but I can manage a bit of that if I need to."
"Does that practice tend to take you out, gallivanting around like a proper hero who needs to smash evil?" Moore asks with a grin as he eats another pastry.
"When Aurora mobilizes," Finnegan shrugs, "Army life's like that. Being a hero on your own terms is different."
Moore nods a few times. "So you're less of an adventurer-type and more a soldier, I understand. Well, if the opportunity ever presents itself and you need me for anything, please feel free to call on my services. I'd also be happy to help you with any blacksmithing work."
"Hah, no. I've done both but mostly on my own. I'm just with Aurora now," Finnegan says. "I might. I'm thinking about building an iron horse to be animated as a steed."
"Hmm, that'd be interesting." Moore nods. "I can definitely help with that part."
"Can you keep going for hours? An entire horse is a big project," Finnegan says. "You need stamina."
"I have the stamina for it." Moore says with some amount of confidence.
Finnegan rises all in one lithe movement, more like flowing water than mere flesh. He gestures and his hood takes position of its own accord, "Then how about right now?"
Moore smiles and gives a helpless shrug. "Certainly."
Okay, how are you going to boost his checks?
Song of Fortune: +5 to one skill check (1 bardic use)
Inspire Competence: +8 morale bonus (1 bardic use)
He can also give him +5 once if it's an important check, this only works once a day.
Moore has 27 bardic music uses available to him.
He can also try a perform (oratory) or profession (motivational speaker) check to just give Finnegan some confidence.
Moore can also technically help out himself via Divine Insight if Finnegan wants the assistance that way.
Durations on those?
Oh, excuse me, Melody of Fortune is 2 uses, both Competence and Melody of Fortune last up to 2 minutes a piece. I'm not sure if that means you can make multiple checks within that timeframe and they all get the bonus or if it's just 1 but it still lasts that long.
This is hours and hours of work, he needs longer term boosts. He's doing it by hand, not magic.
Well I really don't have anything that lasts longer so he'll just have to help him by hand I guess. The songs themselves all have a limit of 2 minutes regardless. He can help at critical junctures I guess but that's really all I can offer. I don't have anything that makes this stuff last longer.
Okay, make an oratory check for motivation.
[14:36] <Nephrite> roll 1d20+38+15+12 Perform(oratory)
[14:36] <Plushie_Mushroom_Ithea> Nephrite roll for Plushie_Mushroom_Ithea < 82 > [d20=17]
Hours of hard work pass. Finnegan pounds metal into place, heating it and then forging it together. You aren't sure how he does it, but he weaves the metal together like yarn. It flexes in ways it shouldn't, wrapping around itself and merging. As he does, you notice him sing a few instinct words under his breath. You aren't sure what they are offhand, but they do sound like elven.
"Song to keep your own concentration?" Moore asks, wiping at some sweat on his face.
Finnegan's not sweating at all, even as he pounds metal into place. "Old elven trick I picked up from a group of..." He pauses, "Metalsingers is the best translation." Pound, pound, pound, his hammer ringing out as he shapes one leg of the horse. "A few words and a bit of the magic in all elves can help shape metal. It works, even if the effect's minimal. Works better for whittling wood."
"Huh, a natural affinity? Interesting." Moore nods as he takes a breath. "I need to find a better way to get my motivational magic to last longer... I think that's going to be my next personal project."
"All elves are magical creatures," Finnegan keeps on pounding, "Not like humans, who only have magic if they try. An elf is magic, it's only a question of if we learn to use it."
"Mm... yes, I suppose that's true." Moore says, reflecting back on his trip to Yggdrasil. It's probably truer than Finnegan even realizes. "Perhaps that's the key -- I should look inward and not outward..."
At that, Elena appears. "Hi," she says brightly, "Tryll's looking for you. The situation's contained so traveling out is okay again."
"Please tell him I'll be along shortly." Moore says with a smile. "Finnegan, we'll have to do this again sometime -- I'd like to get to know you better, either way."
"Another time. Adventure calls," Finnegan says, as you go off.
Locking this and moving you to Yuth's thread.