Portside Underground
Log Info
- Title: Portside UnderGround
- GM: Aelwyn
- Place: Port Alexandria
- Summary: A group of adventurers attempt to retake and relocate a box. How hard can it be?
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Players =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harkashan 6'5" 276 Lb Sith-Makar Male
Sith with red and black scales bearing gleaming lavastone spread across
Rune 5'0" 100 Lb Half-Elf Female
Lithe woman in dark leathers w/black hair & blue eyes
Simony 3'5" 34 Lb Goblin Female
Albino Goblin in copper robes edged in blue trim.
Slixvah 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk Female
A rust red and white Eglarin covered in ribbons and shawls.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aelwyn 5'3" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Male
Runt of a Dragoon.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
- Guild
Sitting alone in one of the corner rooms is a cloak wearing, raggedy looking red sith-makar.
But do they possess some _style_.
Clad in a worn, yes, and a bit rough around the edges, but the elderly seeming sith-makar was dressed up like she were headed to a ball. Blue dress with tassels, a heavy set of pearl beads and a shawl. All of it looked ready for a prime time - yet, as the group would quickly see, it was all faded, worn and even the pearls were browned from the years and dirty. Perhaps once, she knew the cutting edge of the dance floors, the sparkle of drink, and the glamour that undoubtedly followed one, but now, all she had was that dress and perhaps a lifetime worth of memories.
Another thing the group would quickly realize, was that her eyes seemed to be not here. Or there; they were spinning around the room, as her fingers trailed a line in the air.
"They say the sea is nice this time of the year,"
She starts with a subdued, yet powerful sing song voice and falls quiet. Her fingers continue to trail in the air.
You were warned she was not... all there.
This wasn't the first jaunt Slixvah has done. The posting on the board rang a number of bells from times past. Boxes? Makari? Great. This morning was spent double time with her little bestie to get a plethora of things sorted.
And now the ribbon clad egalrin was here, in said corner room, propped up against a wall. Such wisdom in that redscale's age. "It certainly is, hon," she coos warmly. "Fair winds, occasional storm to cool it off."
Harkashan holds open the door to the chambers, as others begin to file in to the guild chambers. Ducking his head down a bit so that he doesn't get stuck on the opening, waiting for everyone, then steps inside himself and closes the door behind them all.
"Peace upon your nest." He rumbles, bowing his head as he spots the elder Sith-makar in time-worn dancers' clothes. "Hmm, yes, the sea is nice this time of the year." He then follows up as he steps in proper.
Rune ducks in under Harkashan's arm as he holds the door open, looking a little uncertain. The rogue tilts her head, looking from the Makari healer to the individual speaking about the sea. Her brow lifts, "I've never really been to the sea." She offers quietly.
Then, lowering her voice she adds, "Peace on your nest." Then, she folds her arms, "So... do we know what this is about?" She whispers.
The cloaked lady of the red continues sliding her fingers in the air. Her mouth touches words in the air; perhaps she were listening, perhaps she were not. It was hard to tell.
"The day is okay, and the sun can be fun, but I live to see those waves slip away." She then responds, hand moving to slide across the table top. "The misty gloom seems to soak up my sorrow, the further I go on."
Fingers tap, dance, and slide in a line that was somewhere away there.
"My time's spent at last, my safe is destroyed. I have used up all my charms; I'm helpless and bereaved."
Slowly then, she reaches under her chair and with a pained whine, and shake of her hands, she pulls out a heavy looking bag. Impossibly heavy looking bag. She hoists it up onto the table and it spills open.
Old, worn coins spill all over the surface. None of them looked fresh, many of them were filthy, and there were even few caps and screws in there.
"Take the box away."
Back to tracing her fingers in the air.
Slixvah looks over her shoulder as she spies the lava-scale and the half-sil, her waggling her fingers and trilling in a smooth sing-song, "Hello Shasha and Ruru. Good ta see ya lovlies."
She turns back to the cloaked makari of red, he seemingly able to, or appear to be, following along. A soft sight escapes her beak. "I'm sorry, land-mother," she croons, looking sad as she steps forth to help with the bag. It looks as if she's going to say more, but her attention is pulled towards the last bit of words. "... is it a box wrapped in chain with runes all about it?" she asks in a flat tone. "I've taken it 'away' so many times. It just... keeps coming back up."
Simony peeks her head into the room, pushing her oversized hat back so that she can see properly. Her sandals click-clack across the floor, hidden by the hem of her copper-and-blue robes. She stares at the coins on the table, her expression momentarily envious as the eyes flick back and forth, counting. The Gobbo offers Harkashan, Rune and Slixvah a finger-wiggle wave and a brief smile, before she looks to the elderly? Sith.
"I'm sorry to hear that... has someone stolen from you? Er, though what you have here is quite a lot of coin."
Harkashan remains quiet as the elderly Sith speaks, letting the others listen to her and interpret her words. He bows his head to Slixvah when she bids him welcome, and raises his hand to Simony. But otherwise, for now, remains quiet. Letting them speak, while the Speaker listens.
Rune has never been particularly good at reading into individuals who speak in riddles or worse, in nonsense. She can translate any number of languages, but when words are understandable but have mixed meanings or strange combinations, it just seems to hit a wall in her mind.
The sudden tipping of old coins across the table has a look of surprise. Then, a glance towards Slixvah, "You're following what they're talking about?" She murmurs in a hushed question, not wanting to seem offensive. Rune has no idea how anyone even got information about a box out of what the Makari had said.
Now the elderly makari turns her head and looks at Slixvah. First, her eyes seemed to focus on somewhere beyond - but then they turn towards her and she smiles.
"It's the nexus of the crisis, the origin of storms. Just the place to hopelessly encounter time; then came me."
Her eyes then slowly slide away, seeming to slide across the rest of the group. Briefly, it falters, speaking, "P-peace..." But then that weak voice is once more shut, and she returns to a more powerful, sing song voice. It was a pleasant voice - full of power in those subdued lungs.
"Chains of steel and it's not right, bond in flames with darkness ablaze. So let them be, let that box, busker and rue."
There's a long pause, as she looks at the coins now, her head hanging forward. Slowly, she begins to pick up each spilled coin, and piling them into four little neat piles. One coin at a time. Out of hundreds of coppers and other tiny denominations.
"The bell strikes well and moon drops burst, out at you from their resting place. Misfit Marauders and the box of green would find themselves at the Sailways yard."
GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/local: (15)+6: 21 GAME: Rune rolls knowledge/local: (20)+8: 28 GAME: Simony rolls knowledge/local: (12)+7: 19 GAME: Harkashan rolls Knowledge/Local+2: (15)+4+2: 21
One of Slixvah's feathers on her wings seems to animate and waggle a wave at Simony as she enters. But her attention is focused on the elder. "Ye ye Ruru, I'm pickin' up what they's puttin' down," she answers to the half-sil.
Her brows raise as the elder bids her sooth. Only further climbing up her face as it shifts to a singsong. "... sounds about right, miss oracle," she rubs her beak. "Been warned that box is bad news over and over again."
She offers to help sort the coinage. "Land-mother, how do we actually rid the box? You say its hopeless encounter, but its different now?"
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive: (15)+16: 31 GAME: Harkashan rolls Perform/Oratory: (19)+4: 23
Simony grins brightly at the animated feather wave, and while Slixvah speaks, Simony watches the Sith.
"Well, there is an old Sailways building somewhere close to the port. I'm not familiar with the warehouse district, except for some very direct routes through it. But that might be a place to start looking."
The Goblin's expression grows thoughtful, a little finger tapping at her chin.
"You're talking Astronomy, I think. Are you perhaps warning us of some event coming in the near future?" Her eyes narrow to slits. "Sith generally finish that intonation, it is second nature to them. Peace on your nest, Land-mother."
Harkashan kind of tilts his head a few times, once to the left, then to the right. There's this feeling he just can't shake. Others seem to be making sense of what this one is saying, but he's more focused on something else.
He slowly crosses his arms, brow furrowed, trying to get a better read on this one. He cannot sense any malice, so he has no reason to point out that something is wrong in this moment. But there's still this rumbly undertone to his breathing that would indicate that there's discomfort.
"Glad at least one of us is." Rune replies with a slight shake of her head. The rogue continues to look puzzled, her brows furrowed and that look of confusion continuing to linger as she does her best to listen to what comes across as rambling to her.
"I've heard of the Misfit Marauders. They're a group that performs music at some of the clubs near the port." She explains, though Rune doesn't seem to quite understand what this has to do with what the elder Makari is saying. "Sailways is one of the old buildings around there."
Glancing between her friends, she lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug, "I do some deliveries out in that area." Rune hesitates, "And I may favor some of the clubs." Which suggests she may very well have contacts among some seedier individuals. That is likely no surprise given her history.
The lady puts a coin down and then her hands begin to grasp at something, as she begins to rise on her feet. The careful piles are knocked down, once more - not that the coin ever really mattered. Dirt, metal, bronze - what any of it mattered. Slixvah could smell the alcohol in her breath - off brand moonshine.
"Yes I know the secrets of the iron and mind, a flaming wonder of death." The lady then begins, a powerful voice that seems to rise in crescendo.
"Death comes sweeping through the alleways, like a lady's dress-" She makes a twist in spot, holding her cloak like a shawl. She makes steps on the floor, gracefully moving as she stands in front of Rune. Hand reaches out to her most politely. "In it's finest lace, a fire of an unknown origin."
"After a rebellion, they'll settle for lie."
Another pause, and she looks at Rune. "Take me away." Her voice was powerful; like that of a singer that performs those dramatic acts. Indeed, her dress was from one of those shows.
GAME: Simony rolls perception: (6)+11: 17
Slixvah nods to Simony, filing that information away, but she can't help but comment, "Yous a birb now?" she teases. Skysister, Landbrother, Land-mother, all terms used between makari and egalrin. A glance is afforded to Harkashan at his discontent sounds, but she winks at Rune. "Clubs? And you didn't invite me?" she giggles.
But she blinks as the coins are knocked over. And- wait. Sniff. "... Land-mother, ya got into the dirty water," she mentions before they're sweeping about like their age didn't matter. She stares. "Ya know, Land-mother, ya act an awful lot like a friend of mine...."
She stares more. Then sighs, rolling her head over to Rune. "Aaaand she lost me."
The Goblin squeaks as the coins get scattered, Simony huffing as she chases down several coins threatening to roll off the table.
She squints at the continued singing. "It's almost like we're supposed to be Telepaths or something. This better not be a cheap gimmick to get people to go to the Sailways for a show."
Simony looks to Harkashan and Rune a moment, grinning broadly, before she looks to Slixvah. "You had named her such, and there was no protest, so calling her Land-mother seemed safe." The Gobbo lets out a long sigh. "They're songs from some of the more popular operas. Felines, for example. Ghost of the Big Top. Moby Richard."
Harkashan shakes his head a bit. "They're not a Land-mother." He answers Slixvah, but doesn't go further into the matter. He's trying his best to understand what is being said, what is needed of them. But he is failing to understand anything so far. "I fear I will be relying on you folk to decypher what is intended."
"Didn't know you were interested in those sort of places." Rune replies, her head tilting. "If you ever want to go, I'd be glad to take you. Just be prepared for plenty of drunk assholes who need a bit of persuasion not to hit on anything with tits that passes by."
The sudden approach of the Makari has Rune going stiff, her hands dropping to her sides in a somewhat defensive posture. The comment about death in a lady's dress certainly does seem like it's talking about Rune, herself, but beyond that she just gives a quizzical expression. "I only wield death to those who deserve it."
As for the request, the rogue looks first at the Makari, then towards each of the others, "Uh..." Then back to the Elder, "Sorry, but my dance card is pretty full these days, and I don't sleep with strangers."
Stare.
The rejection barely causes the lady in red to pause, as she spins on her place. She smoothly glides across the floor, snapping her fingers, then over to the other - her moves in perfect timing with the beatiful melody she is singing. Then she is in front of Harkashan, and she reaches out towards the larger makari; hand not touching, but only seeming.
"I turn my hopes to the sky, I lift my eyes and say."
Those eyes stare deeply into the lava-touched makari. "Come on, and take me away. Come, and the..." Now she begins to stumble, her elderly bones starting to show their weight. Their erosion. "Come on... and..." Slowly, she begins to falter backwards, towards the nearest chair. "Come.. take the box... away." She slump, her eyes starting to spin in their place again as the last of her strength is gone.
Slixvah shrugs at Simony, but quirks her head to the side at the mention of these being plays scenes. Her expression dips slightly, both at that and at Harkashan's words. But picks right back up. Wounded pride briefly at potential of being deceived. Yet appreciative of the effort put into it.
She looks to Rune, winks. "Good thing I ain't got tits, hon," she giggles. "I love a good party. And if I get ta mess wit' drunk assholes then it sounds double fun." Slix's wings unfurl subtly at the approach on Rune, then to Harkashan.
The egalrin folds her hands behind her back. "... please drink some water, Miss dancer. We'll..-" she sighs, "-... deal with the box...." She turns towards the door.
GAME: Simony rolls perform/act: (4)+1: 5
The Goblin watches the elderly Sith, and looks concerned as she slumps into the chair, lady's eyes spinning. Simony stands and moves to the Sith's chair, peering into her eyes, and going through the motions of checking Granny Sith out. Simony frowns at something as she steps away. She looks at Rune, and then Slixvah, as they speak. As the Egalrin heads towards the door, the click-clack of sandals is loud as Simony follows quickly.
"Figuratively." Rune replies to Slixvah, offering the avian a wink. "I've seen them hit on particularly slender male Makari. Anything they interpret as female is fair game." The half-elf responds with a roll of her eyes.
And then, the mad Makari seems to move on from her to Harkashan, leaving Rune lifting an eyebrow. Thankfully, there is little in the way of jealousy between the two, as she simply shifts her weight, watching as the madness seems to give way to exhaustion.
The look of confusion continues as Slixvah and Simony turn towards the door. With that, Rune follows, still looking as if she were not quite sure what to make of the interaction.
Harkashan looks down a bit at the elder Sith-makar as she glides along the floor and moves out towards him. He doesn't reach back however. After all, he's judging her mentally unwell. Instead, he looks back into her eyes and rumbles; "Best you sit back down." He rumbles. "We will take the box away." Hoping he understands.
It was a typical portside experience. It was not that difficult to find the Sailways; asking around, someone always knew someone who knew someone who goes there for a night or two in the bad weather.
Somewhere in between the warehouses, once built, used and then abandoned, led to a larger open space. Sprawling canals and old pulley systems littered the horizon and old crates and subsequent tents and other miscellania the ground. The building though, was straight up ahead. It was the largest building, with a rotting sign denoting at as some kind of makeshift bar, with old faded letters signifying some old shipping company. Sailways.
A low slope with tracks led down towards the wide entrance, with a camp fire on the side. Looks like a huddled group of homeless had set up camp off to the distance, cloaks and ragged clothing. That seemed to be par with the group had heard.
One door was open ajar, and warm torchlight was easily visible against the dark clouds and the gentle drizzle of rain.
GAME: Harkashan casts Magic Vestment. Caster Level: 8 DC: 18 GAME: Simony casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14
Slixvah gives a closed eye smile at Rune. "I'm fair game. But probably not their fare," she snickers over her shoulder as she heads on out. As she goes, Slix pats Rune on the shoulder, an errant breeze wafting by. "Let's get ta boxin'."
And now they're here, Slixvah twirling a wand with a red feather tied to the base of it. "Interestin'..." she hums at the door, tapping her beak twice with the wand. It jolts, and a brisk air ruffles her feathers. "Well, dis is da place."
GAME: Slixvah used a Wand of Mage Armor. <OOC> Slixvah Hex: Ward on Rune (for the logger)
"I don't like this one bit.", the Goblin huffs. "I.. couldn't figure out what was up with that Sith. Like... I couldn't even tell if she was actually even alive. This doesn't pass the sniff test. Not even close."
Simony falls silent over the trek to the building.
Her hand reaches up for the hour-glass symbol hanging from her neck, a minute flash around the Goblin as she whispers a prayer. She pulls her warhammer from the loop on her belt. "Shall I go first? Everyone should consider light sources if they're not able to see in darkness."
The pat to the shoulder gets a grin from the rogue. "I'll floow your lead, my friend. You understood more of what they were saying than I did."
Finding directions isn't that difficult for those who are more familiar to the docks and those who usually gather there. In fact, more than a few people they pass seem to acknowledge Rune in passing. One such individual even aids them in finding the right directions.
With the drizzle starting to kick up, Rune pulls up her hood and mask, hiding much of her features from view as she walks along with the others through the more run-down areas of the port.
"I can scout ahead and check the place out... I'm pretty good at getting into places without being noticed." Rune suggests.
Harkashan speaks up finally when they leave the guild-house and they are on the road. "They were not Sith-makar. I do not know what they were... I didn't sense any animosity. But I want you to be on guard. People do not fool others with their visage if they mean to be truthful." He warns the others traveling with him as they head to the portside and try to find Sailways.
Taking note of the homeless, he takes a moment to stop by them and passes a few coins their way, and offers a bit of food he's had prepared. "Here you go." He rumbles to them. "Be safe." Especially with it raining.
He then follows the other towards the open door, and nods to Rune on her suggestion of scouting it out first. "Be careful."
There's a vague sound from the group of vagrants, all wearing ragged clothing, cloaks and covered in dirt. It sounded more like growling of the undead to be honest; but everyone seemed to be pretty heavy on the drink.
The light inside Sailways continued to flicker; emanating somewhere deep within and touching the doorframe with the last of its strength.
Slixvah's visage shifts to a light frown. They weren't a makari? She brushes her hand across a rainbow ribbon on his head, and her form blurs for a moment, like she was out of focus. Then it solidifies to a rugged looking human woman with dull pink hair, one half of her head shaved.
The new figure taps her chin. "Ruru first. Wait five seconds, then we go. You two in front of me," she delegates.
She pulls out a dagger, pokes it with a finger, "Mishmre," she incants, and it glows a pale white hue.
GAME: Slixvah casts Light. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15
To Harkashan, she shrugs. "I couldn't tell if they were even alive, I suspect they were possessed though. At least, given the particular way they were behaving."
Glancing at Rune, she nods, "Good luck, and be careful.", she offers softly.
The Goblin squints at the light blossoming from the dagger, and she nods to Slixvah, waiting for Rune to slip off before she herself follows behind.
GAME: Rune rolls stealth+4+2: (13)+16+4+2: 35 GAME: Rune rolls perception: (12)+18: 30
Welcome to the underground. Finding the right room would have taken very little effort - as usual, these places were designed with simple utility in mind - bring in the goods and then load and unload them.
Though in this case - the stairs change color and seemed to go even further down. The distant smell of sewers was playing at the tip of the nose and tongue. Thankfully - distant. What was more prevalent was the past contents of the crates. Spices, food, perhaps even worse things. It was obvious that this was no ordinary loading dock, as all the entrances were barred with large gates, making it impossible for ships to come through.
Therefore, it was pretty trivial for Rune to sneak in. It was easy to sneak a large lavalamp in as well - the place felt and smelled like a smuggler's hideout.
"How long can it take to find something to pry those damn bars open?" A voice says from the other side of the canal. "The longer we stay, the sooner we get screwed. That ship ain't waiting forever."
A group of four people were talking across a wide bridge. The wooden construction seemed very solid for being in such a decrepit place.
"It can't be that bad, all we found in here were those vagrants." A feminine voice says.
"Aye lad, those bars take a beating. Must be guards or the previous lenders th' locked this place up." A hearty laugh adds.
The box though, the familiar sight of that chained box - stood in the middle of the bridge, ready to be thrown over.
When their ship arrives to the port.
The sound from the vagrants has one of Rune's ears twitching beneath her hood, but she only gives them a half-glance as she looks towards the flickering light inside the building. A roil of dark mist seems to lick at Rune's ankles as she slips into one of the nearby shadows and nearly vanishes entirely into it, her form only a brief silhouette against the doorway before she is inside.
As the group moves inside, Rune darts from crate to crate like a ghost flitting between shadows. She narrows her eyes at something, then returns back towards the others, keeping her voice hushed. "That's the Misfit Marauders. Looks like they've turned in their musical act for something more nefarious." In one of Rune's hands is a lute which she may have snagged from somewhere in the warehouse.
"Looks like that box is what we're looking for?" She asks in that same hushed whisper.
Not-Slix slips with the others after giving Rune a few moments for her to get into position, eyeing the half-sil's ankles and that shade before she shakes her head and presses on. To her surprise, there was a set of stairs that go down, and down she goes, bringing up the rear. There was a lot of things here strewn about, and further in, voices and laughter.
She hides the dagger in her robes, snuffing the light. But she almost jumps out of her skin at Rune suddenly appearing back with them. "Uh..." she whispers back, leaning slightly to peer before- her shoulders sag. "... yep. That's it," she reluctantly confirms.
GAME: Simony rolls stealth: (18)+3: 21
The Goblin gives Rune a ten-count before she even considers moving, not wanting to spoil the Half-Sil's opportunities to scout. As the rest move in, Simony follows, shuffling oddly to keep her sandals from clacking loudly, or slapping against her heels.
She sniffles lightly behind Slixvah, as a way to let the Egalrin that someone is close by. She, too, starts a little at the arrival of Rune, and she can see in darkness even! The GObbo shivers and lets out her breath slowly.
"Uh, okay, so... they're the Misfits. And that's the box. Simple plan maybe? Rush the box, run off with it?"
There's a bit of noise coming from inside as Harkashan tries to enter as quietly as he can. Following a bit in Rune's footsteps, so to say, while smelling the edges of the Sewers' smell.
Talk about getting bars open? Sounds like something is getting robbed. Proceeding slowly, he listens to more talking up ahead.
"We best hurry a bit. If we want to stop them from getting that chest on their ship." He rumbles. He's getting remarkably used to Rune showing up out of nowhere after disappearing. "What's with the lute?" He then asks Rune.
"One would imagine paying a _good sum of money_ would inspire a few hirelings to greater feats." The tall human, apparent leader, hisses from between his teeth. His stress was, palpable in the air.
"Come love, we got all night. The ship is only leaving tomorrow." The elven woman says, with a completely bored expression. "Get the box in, get the money, get out. Simple. We've done this million of times before."
"Aye, lad. None worsen than that one time on Crazy Horse! Haha!" The dwarf adds, slapping his chest.
A tall half-orc just stands there next to a pillar in quiet, arms crossed across his chest.
"Think it belongs to one of them, so I nicked it." Because while Rune is not a cleptomaniac, it seemed important to prove her point that these are the band members pointed out earlier. "Pretty shoddy instrument, but... might be good as a distraction."
Then, looking back at the box, "With a good enough distraction, I might be able to sneak behind them, but that's going to be a tough lift for me." Rune is quite lithe but is not as physically strong as some others in her profession.
Not-Slix was startled enough to even notice the lute. She cracks a lopsided grin at Rune, teeth flashing from the disguise. "Distraction? Going to serenade us?" she teases quietly before peering out to the Misfits. Listening to their gabbing. "... yes. Agreed with Mony. Get in, grab it, get out. I can make da box weightless, no problem. A distraction though..."
She ponders. Grins wider. "Oh honey. I got a perfect distraction..." She touches her robes. And her robe flutters, obscuring her form as it shifts and shapes into a lean elvish figure in a white coat, greased back black hair. "Lemme see that lute, honey. I'm boutta do somethin' stupid."
<OOC> Slixvah says, "using robes of Blending for Alter Self to change into a sildanyari man."
The Goblin holds out her hand. "I'd be happy to offer up the distraction. And help you bulk out a little..." Her hand is pulled back when Slix volunteers to do the distraction. She nods then, "Let me make Rune stronger, so you don't have to have the distraction of having to hold a spell and cause a fuss, hmm? You can still do so if you are up to it, however, don't let me tell you how to magic. I'll wait on the distraction, if Rune's going to wait til it gets going?"
Any time that Rune sees Slixvah transform, it is always an interesting feat. The fact that she turns into an elf and takes the lute from her makes it all that much more curious. "Good luck." She offers in a whisper, and then looks to Simony.
"I'll take the boost." With that, Rune crouches and seems to prepare herself for whatever distraction that the colorful eagle-folk has in store for them.
Harkashan has some spells he'd love to cast before going in, but Slixvah has a plan. "I will wait until you give the sign." He rumbles to his skysister, and awaits. Looking down for a moment to Simony as she mentions making Rune stronger. "A good idea."
Whatever Slix is now reaches out to pat Simony on the shoulder. "No worries. Just hold off on castin' stuff, 'cause magic is loud. I'm gonna do something dumb that'll cover up spell castin'. Alright? Alright. You'll know th' signal when ya see me castin' magic."
(S)he inhales deeply before stepping up out of cover and strides out with purpose, lute in hand. "Lemme tell ya," the elf says to seemingly no one as he approaches the Misfits, "Don't ever get snippy with the missues, getting treated like a Hound Dog, cryin' all the time. Now I'm out here-"
He pauses, then smiles brightly, putting the lute over a shoulder. "How ya doin'? Sorry to bother, but apparently My Way got me the wrong way. Which way to funky town?" he requests. "I'm runnin' late for a show, and boy at this point I'd rather Just Pretend I got a crowd here."
He strums the lute, letting it ring out as he raises a hand, fingers lighting up as he intones, "Etl em erah." Nothing visibly happens, but its flashy on the strings!
GAME: Slixvah rolls perform/oratory: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Slixvah casts Comprehend Languages. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16
"Shut up!" The human seethes, "You do not know. It's not like the other jobs." He flicks out his short sword, as he actively looks around the warehouse. He seemed to not only be waiting, but also watching out for something.
"Daaaahliiing." The elf sighs, "You just haven't had your morning drink yet." The dwarf heartily agrees, "Yea lad, we get you back to Rotten One and get ya proper proper."
The half-orc just stands. Waiting. Timeless. Eternal.
The bickering probably would have continued, but then the... elf appears. "The heck are you? The clubs are way out there." Swords and blades are being drawn, as they near lost performer. Even the half orc shifts his hands down - and cracks his knuckles in very audible, face cracking fashion.
The chains in the box start to thrum up and glow green.
GAME: Simony rolls perform/sing: (14)+1: 15 GAME: Simony casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15
The Goblin frowns, and huffs. Nodding, she gestures to Elf-Slixvah to do his thing. Crouching beside Rune, she watches the 'performance' ensue. "This is more fucked up than getting a fireball thrown at your feet, and become like crispy chicken.", Simony comments in a monotone voice.
At the casting of music, Simony reaches up to the hourglass symbol hanging from her neck, clasping it in her hand as she offers up a prayer to Navos, invoking him to fill Rune's tiny body with a fraction of His strength. The Goblin looks panicked, though, as she SINGS the prayer, struggling to keep it to a dull roar.
At the climax of the prayer, she lays her hand on the small of Rune's back, the glow from her hand sinking into the Half-Sil, diffusing into her muscles. Rune may feel the temptation to direct people to the beach.
GAME: Harkashan rolls perform/oratory: (11)+4: 15
Harkashan, recognizing the spell - and the distraction quickly going awry - notes that this is about the time for them to step in. So, he breaks away from the shadows and proceeds forwards. Moving with purpose towards his Skysister-made-elfin.
He doesn't miss the crate starting to glow a bit though. Which has him a bit concerned.
The Sith-makar motions towards it, making sure to point it out for others, as he proceeds and sets out a waving pulse of silver-grey, sending out a blessing to his allies - as he begins a deep rumbling song of death. The typical kind of dirges he rumble-sings when wading into battle.
GAME: Harkashan casts Bless. Caster Level: 8 DC: 16 GAME: Rune rolls stealth+4+2: (14)+16+4+2: 36 GAME: Rune rolls perform/dance: (16)+9: 25 GAME: Aelwyn rolls d20+4: (3)+d20+4: 7 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (4)+5: 9 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 5: (8)+5: 13 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 7: (10)+7: 17
The feeling of strength flickers through Rune, but it is the singing that has her turning her head to look towards Simony quizically. When it is followed a moment later by Harkashan's deep rumbling voice and that glow of green from the box, Rune can only assume that there is some sort of odd magic at play.
Magic that certainly couldn't impact her, right? She doesn't have any magical abilities... or does she?
The moment that Rune starts to make her move towards the box, there is a strange compulsion that seems to come along with it. The flicker of dark mist seems to come with a rhythm, causing her to move with an agile, acrobatic sort of grace between those portals of shadow. If one could actually see her, the performance is damn remarkable, but mostly it is a flash of something from the corner of the eye and then gone again.
When she finally does stop, far closer to the box than before, Rune just looks a fair bit puzzled. Her fingers are still tapping out a silent beat against her leathers.
GAME: Slixvah rolls perform/oratory: (14)+9: 23 GAME: Slixvah casts Web. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 10: (17)+10: 27 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 12: (13)+12: 25 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 12: (10)+12: 22 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 8: (18)+8: 26
The elvish man continues to strum idly, his eyes bright and smiling, even as the others pull weapons. "Woah woah now, I'm a lover not a fighter. I just got right turned round, ya dig? Name's Press-lee. Did some shows a while ago, figured I'd take my beat at it again. But golly jee, these streets sure wind, don't they!"
His eyes glance to the box. Curious at it as the runes glow. Double curious as... hmm. Back to the Misfits. Hearing magic behind her being cast and people are moving. Showtime!
"Now now, Don't be cruel.
Let's Just Pretend I was a tool.
Sit back down!
And stick around!"
He brings a hand up again, but this time, it gets more complex as strands seemly come out of nowhere as she balls them up, and throws it underhanded towards the group approaching. "Tspe niot ym ralpro!" he chants in cadence. Man, Slix was really feeling the hymn today!
A mass of silken web explodes out from between them all, attempting to ensnare the Misfits!
Slixvah was really feeling the groove. The lute playing - it seemed to have really thick bottom to it, a beat she could feel in her bones.
The Misfits may have played in the seediest clubs and take the shittiest jobs - but they were no fools. In fact, the all possessed remarkable grace, as they neatly ducked and weaved out of the way. Even the dwarf - who seemed to also enjoy a hefty morning drink.
"Okay, okay, ye lads! Time a-cuttin'!" The dwarf calls out, pulling out his short blade. The boss of them glances at the others and gives a quick nod, before the rest of the group pulls their own blades. Or in the case of the half-oruch barbarian, cracks his knuckles.
The gang boss suddenly looks behind him and snarls at the elven woman, "Didn't I tell you to bring the damn lute?"
" I thought you were joking-"
"Just keep the damn box safe!" The human yells at the elven woman, who flashes her teeth as she keeps her eyes on the box.
And then it hits Slixvah. It was just not her lute that was playing.
A sudden, violent roaring scream and a high pitched laugh fills the space - echoing in the room as if screamed by an amused banshee.
That's right before the real music starts. A famously unfamous voice suddenly calls out,
"Welcome back, my friends
To the show that never ends
We're so glad you could attend!
Come inside! Come inside!"
A familiar group of vagrants have appeared on the foyer, wielding instruments of death and musical prowess. Or cheap lutes, a broom with cat gut string and harmonica's; playing a fiercely cheerful jaunty tune as the pompadour wearing singer hits the stage. Yes, him.
"You've got to see the show, it's a real laugh and a row!"
And thus, the real dance of blades begins.
-To be continued-