Coming Clean
Log Info
- Title: Coming Clean
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Aryia, Wu
- Place: Alexandria, Jail
- Time: Thursday, July 22, 2021, 2:29 PM
- Summary: Aryia uses her contacts with the Ebon Syndicate to get into the prison and speak to the Mul'niessa that tried to kidnap her. She's shown to the prison laundry, and shoved in. The guard says she has twenty minutes. Wu, somehow, has become lost and ended up there, and the prisoners have been willing to leave a heavily armed, potentially crazy man alone, and the guards haven't shown much interest in getting him out. Aryia attempts to ask her questions, her subject is having none of it and attacks. Wu pulls out a crossbow to defend the shadow lady, and two other prisoners make their move, grabbing his crossbow 'Betsy'. Despite a strong will, the Mul'niessa fails against Aryia again. She leaves him unconscious while she sorts the other two out, and returns the crossbow. Finally getting to the questions, Aryia is disturbed by the answers. Baldrin wants her back, he engaged Xyldric, the Colosseum's Keeper to make it happen, and he's hired individuals to see it through. The rest of it, the ship, the explosion, periphery components to getting her back. She leaves the Mul'niessa to his fate as a snitch, and takes Wu out.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-= Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a curious look about her. Wu 5'6" 155 Lb Human Male Elderly Xian male with a drifting eye and cataracts -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Money can't buy happiness; you'll just have to rent it.
It can buy access, enough will get you anywhere. In some cases there's a discount, someone has gotten themselves in debt, they owe 'a favour'. Until that debt is paid off a lot of people can lean on them, for favours.
It's not the best situation, for a guard. Or a bunch of guards. Being in the Ebon Syndicate's pocket is unpleasant even if the favours are 'let someone in', and 'look the other way'.
"Alright, he's in here." The gruff Oruch unlocks a door and pushes Aryia through. It's a gated access, barred doors on both sides, only one of which can be open at a time due to mechanical interlocks. He works the levers.
The Oruch smiles. Life is too short to live in debt, but some things do bring small satisfaction. "You have twenty minutes. Don't scream. No one will hear you."
Clank. One door closes, another door opens.
It's a prison laundry. Heads turn.
The scarred mul'neissa that bought her way in leveled her eyes on all that turned to look for her. It was through some greased palms, her reputation at the docks, and sheer bluntness (of personality or fist) got her to where she was now. She wished Culix was here for this, but perhaps that was part of greasing palms.
With her journal in hand that has a list of prewritten questions, she strides forward, looking for those that ambushed her and her goblin friend some weeks ago. Her stride is tense, and her gazed pointed. She was familiar with such places, and she wasn't looking to pick any fights that she knew she wouldn't win.
Just how Wu got in is something of a mystery. Perhaps it's because he looks like a guard in his armor with weapons near to hand. Yes. That has to be it. His face looks particularly guard-ish. Mean eyes all squinting in a near scowl at anyone that comes near him. Not that he's trying to look that way. Just call it resting guard-face. And of course he's muttering to himself like a mad man. That helps with the guard look too. The kind of guard that's been inside and down in the bad sections of the prison for far too long. Non-sense things being said if one comes near.
"I kept asking for the store house. The store house I said. People motioning here and there. Damn youngsters, all the same. No manors these days. None." He turns suddenly and gives a prisoner a strange head angled look. Well sort of looking at him. "None! Eh?!"
The prisoners are largely ignoring Wu. He's been here a while, and although not exactly harmless he doesn't seem interested in bothering them, and bothering him isn't likely to win any prison points. He's not a guard that any guard cares about, and he's not a gang member that any gang cares about.
He does look like he'd be fun to beat on, but there's a list, and he's tough, someone else will get that honor first.
Like, the Mul'niessa perhaps. The prisoners are a mix of races in a uniform, uniform, and generally of the more brutal and savage sort. Hobgoblins, Orcs, Lizard Folk, humans, and some gnomes who have wrapped right around on the crazy spectrum. Each seems to have his, or her bag and their own wash-bin to wash in. Some prisoners have a wary, 'what fresh hell is this?' expression, others something more akin to 'Oh goody!'
The other Mul'niessa of interest is isn't in the two main rooms.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "... ahem... roll perceptions" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "um.. that's your DC." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (1)+1: 2 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (7)+12: 19
And then, right as she starts looking around, the Mul'niessa strolls out of one room with an armful of wet laundry, whistling.
One should never whistle while in jail. Who knows what attention it might attract.
Aryia raises a brow at the older human's antics, though she largely ignores him and steps around. She pokes her head into each of the rooms from the main hall before she doubles back and starts to check the other rooms.
Were it not for the Mul'neissa's attire, she'd fit right in. And she glares right back any one who thinks it'd be funny to try out a new punching bag.
Then she turns the corner. And looks eyes with the mul'neissa man that she beat down. She jabs a finger towards him, frowns, then beckons him over while opening her journal.
Her book is most threatening.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+6: (2)+6: 8
The instant the Mul'niessa lays eyes on Aryia, he drops his wet clothes and charges her. Fist clenched, ready to strike.
He slips on some wet pants, stumbles into range, his fist falling short as he has to use it to stop himself falling over.
GAME: Wu rolls intimidate: (18)+6: 24 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (12)+1: 13 (Lav Thug 1) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (9)+1: 10 (Lav Thug 2) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (12)+1: 13 (Friendly 1) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (4)+1: 5 (Friendly 2) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (8)+1: 9 (Friendly 3) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (4)+1: 5 (Friendly 4) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+1: (3)+1: 4 (Friendly 5)
Something comes near Wu's head. Hard to tell what it was. Could have been a fist. Could have been one of those flying cats they have off in that one foreign land.. yeah. His head cranes at another strange angle and he peers at the attacker out of the corner of one eye in an unfriendly fashion. The crossbow comes off his shoulder is a smooth and practiced motion. Already cocked and with a bolt in place he points it at the rushing Mul's direction. "Boy! Don't you know it ain't polite to be throwing things? Especially at.. " He gives Aryia a strange look, double checking. "..a lady. Back off."
That get's attention.
A crossbow! It can do a lot in jail.
It's also a good way to get shot.
Several prisoners, all seemingly unarmed and in thin cotton clothes, decide that they don't want any trouble, no trouble, and edge out of Wu's wobbly line of sight.
Two, at the far end of the central corridor, aren't so discouraged although they have retreated and are whispering, casting glances in his direction.
A few prisoners remain focused on the their laundry. Washing clothes. Not a part of this. Nope. Not involved in a prison break, just washing clothes.
<OOC> Aryia says, "just one attack, no flurry, stunning fist nonlethal" GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (9)+8: 17 (DC 15 Fort) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (2)+2: 4 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "roll... um... Diplomacy DC20" GAME: Aryia rolls diplomacy+2: (7)+-4+2: 5 (+2 for with a Mul)
Aryia blinks her taking a singular step back as the Mul'neissa man takes a swing at her. She sees the old man from before whip out a crossbow and threaten the prisoner.
The others move out of the way. Smart.
The scarred mul opens a palm and brings it down hard against the other's face, knocking them towards the wash basin. Unlike before, she doesn't step up and lay in the beat down, she instead holds up hand, scowls, and shakes her head.
It didn't look like she came for a fight.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+2: (6)+2: 8 GAME: Mul'Niessa damaged Aryia for 8 points. 28 HP remaining.
He has been here, waiting for a fight.
A flurry of fists fly towards Aryia. The first misses, and looks like it might have been solid had it connected. The other lands just about perfectly in her stomach. There's the crack of ribs.
<OOC> Aryia says, "and first strike is stunning fist, all nonlethal. She'll cease hitting him if he yields" GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (5)+8: 13 GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (16)+8: 24 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (8)+2: 10 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (8)+2: 10 <OOC> Aryia says, "yeah its all nonlethal"
The pugilist frowns heavily as a fist flies towards her, her back stepping to get out of the way. But she doubles over as pain shoots up from her gut. It was familiar pain. One that made her anger flare.
She decks him in the face with a heavy cross before grabbing him by the back of the neck. Aryia whirls him around, smashes his face into the wall, then brings it down to clonk against the wash basin.
She steps into the room proper and shoves further, holding his face above the water.
It's clear she's holding back, and she would drown him in dirty water if he kept up with the fruitless endeavor of reenacting their scuffle.
This mul was nothing compared to the devil.
All while she held onto her book in her other hand.
A prisoner decides he isn't going to use that washbasin. He'll let the two Muls sort things out, and wait over ------> there.
The blows may have been non lethal, but they're enough to knock the Mul'niessian prisoner almost out of it. His head swims, and he's splashed. He has a close up view of dirty laundry, never a pleasant sight.
An eye is swelling shut. He tastes blood. He should... stop moving, give up. He doesn't. He has a determination, tries to push himself to stand using the wash basin.
The strange older man steps into the doorway behind the lady Mul and swivels his aim about, even checking behind himself like a crazy person. Or someone who knows he's kinda in a bad spot. "Eh! EHHH! Who wants a bolt from Betsy here? Anyone?"
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20 (CMB Disarm) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+3: (9)+3: 12 (CMB Disarm)
"I think we'll just take 'Betsy'."
"Yeah."
There's a pair of running feet. With Wu's attention focused in the room, the two thugs cowering in the corridor stop cowering and make their move.
The first one snatches the crossbow away. The second slides to a stop beside Wu, "Hey!"
"You sure you wanna argue?"
"Uh no boss, s'cool, s'cool."
Washing, washing, washing. Nothing to see.
The other prisoners wouldn't want to accidentally witness something. My how fascinating socks can be!
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "soo.... he tries one more stunning fist, he can only manage a single attack." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12
The Mul'niessa pushes himself off the wash-basin and punches at Aryia's face. His swollen eye throws him off, the swing goes wild.
Aryia rubs face. Can't knock him out, only have so long in here
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "sense motive, DC20 for a hunch?" GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (12)+10: 22
What would it take to get her to surrender, in a hostile Colosseum that was watching her for weakness.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (11)+8: 19 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (2)+2: 4 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "#2 AOOs you" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (12)+7: 19 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d6+2: (2)+2: 4 GAME: You damaged Aryia for 4 points of nonlethal. 4 total.
Aryia glares at the struggling mul, her face going from anger to some pity. A glance is stolen around, to the many eyes watching. It was a fighting pit. Even if the sand was stone, the spectators prisoners, and the judges ringleaders, it was still a pit. And pits don't condone mercy.
Aryia grabs the man's face throws him again the wash basin, letting him slide to the floor in a heap.
The scuffle behind her gets her attention. She huffs and slips past the old man that has been helping her. Though a sharp pain hits her in the side.
The pugilist swivels around and glares at the prisoner. Was that... a sock? Seriously? Guess more faces were going to have to get broken.
<OOC> Wu snerks and will steal the bolt out of betsy as a standard and then draw a sword. And..rant like an old man. GAME: Wu rolls cmb: (5)+4: 9 (Disarm attempt)
He had Betsy.. he doesn't. He blinks. That man has Betsy! He snarls and reaches out trying to disarm the weapon but his depth perception is way off. He instead pulls out his sword. "Alright then ya bastard! Give me Betsy or meet George!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "#1 backs up so he can shoot. This provokes AOOs from Wu and Aryia," <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I believe. #2 .... socks Aryia again." GAME: Aryia rolls cmb: (6)+6: 12 (Trip attempt) GAME: Wu rolls melee: (2)+4: 6 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "he is shooting into Melee but doesn't care who he hits," <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "and while he doesn't have PBS so -4 should apply, extra bodies +2 each, so I think it cancels out." GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+4-4+2+2: (1)+4+-4+2+2: 5 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "he shoots his buddy" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d10: (2): 2 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "#2 socking Aryia" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14
"Oh yeah? You want the bolt? I'll give you the bolt." The first prisoner says as he backpedals away from the old blind man. Also barely avoiding being tripped by the young, scarred Mul'niessa. Why couldn't one of those scars be across her eyes. He's much better at fighting blind people.
Recklessly raising the crossbow, he takes aim at the pair. Well, the trio really. He's expecting his buddy to get out of the way.
>TWANG!<
"Althea's Ass!" His buddy doesn't get out of the way. He's steps in, swinging his wet sock full of rocks at Aryia's head, and catches a crossbow under his arm. Understandably, he misses.
Although the glares he shoots at 'the boss' are right on target.
Elsewhere around the laundry... add some softener... Who has softener in a prison?
The Mul'niessa remains unconscious and wet on the floor.
<OOC> Aryia says, "gonna punch the sock master in face (non lethal) then move to 9,4" GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+0: (7)+0: 7 (Will Save)
The shadow elf flinches as she hears the bolt loose, and she ducks out of the way, only to find it to sink into friendly fire. She tuts, pivoting on a foot and slamming her fist into a hard uppercut, right on the liver. That should make them gasp and stagger for a moment.
Aryia shakes her fist off and slowly walks towards the one with the crossbow. She cracks her neck. He had no more ammo to threaten her with. Blue boots stop right before the boss, her gaze leveled, visage unamused. Guess she was going to have to crack skulls to get it through her head that this exact environment was her proving ground in the past, and they had little chance.
<OOC> Wu says, "Hmm.. look surprised as more persons disappear and .. hmm.. non leathal number 2" <OOC> Wu says, "Hilt strike" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "okay! Make the roll" GAME: Wu rolls melee-4: (16)+4+-4: 16 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "hits!" GAME: Wu rolls 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "good solid thwack, but he's still up."
There was a lady standing right there.. she's gone. Damn it! Wu turns to the stunned man and growls. "Where's Betsy?!" And gets no answer as the man weaves on his feet. Wu makes an exasperated sound and cranes his head about to look at the man in that odd way again. He sees the issue..sighs.. raises his sword up and conks his on the head with the pommel..more weaving. "What the hell?!
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+7: (8)+7: 15
"Hey little miss," The boss-man with the cross-bow takes a step backwards, holding an open and empty palm up at her, keeping the empty crossbow raised, "don't want no trouble. Just the 'bow, and my guy wounded there so we can make an escape."
He nods his head toward Wu, "That old guys been wanderin' here for hours. Figured they'd come get him. Hadda go to a plan two. Prison riot which yer doin' a good job startin'."
"So come do whatchye came here for and wez eazy peazy."
His buddy, staggers about. Shot. Punched in the face. Bopped on the head. It's all going swimmingly. No, the room is swimming.
Splash. Splash-splash. Wait... prision riot?
The Mul'niessa groans.
GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (4)+10: 14 <OOC> Aryia says, "i wanna use the reroll" GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (17)+10: 27
Sounds legit! Waaaaait a minute... While it seems very plausible that is his motivation, the laundry pretty deep in a block of stone. It could help, but, probably not. The 'oh guards guards, le-gasp, a prisoner is sick' routine is ... known.
Plus, this guy has an Ebon syndicate mark. So maybe... he's here for other reasons, perhaps to protect the Mul.
GAME: Aryia rolls intimidate: (19)+-2: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (2): 2 (Thug Will)
The pugilist tilts her head to the side, then frowns heavily. A glance is stolen back towards the sock wielder that was just only now getting their senses back before getting bonked again on the head. She turns back and glares, stepping forward until her body presses against the unloaded crossbow. She points to it, then holds her hand for it. Once it was surrendered, she yanks it free from his hands and walks back to the old man.
She offers the crossbow back to him while looking over her shoulder and glaring daggers at him.
The grumbling old man bonks the swaying man again. Still up. Another lighter tap to see if that does it. Still up. He looks again to see if the other man might just be out cold on his feet. More of that odd stare out of the cornor of his eye thing. Nope.. "What the HELL!?" *BONK*
Then suddenly Betsy! He crows out loud in glee and gratefully takes the weapon back into his arms like a baby. "Thank you, miss! Thank ya very much!"
The boss-man backs down after relinquishing the crossbow, stepping out of the hallway into one of the nearby washing rooms. He's out of sight, out of earshot, for now.
His buddy is bleeding, and attempting to cover his head while Wu finds places that aren't blocked by fingers to wack him on it. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"
He's too stunned to move, and not stunned enough to fall down.
Aryia's face grows a little confused at the old man's antics. She wasn't one to have the long viewed sights that her kin has, but this was one of the rare moments she was confused. Such as people growing senile. She chalks it up to humans being strange. Aryia just smiles and nods, a strained effort before slipping past him to the one she wanted to speak with this entire time.
The scarred mul picks them up by the scruff and carries them to the corner of the room. She dumps him into a sitting position and sits down on her haunches. She scoops some water off of the floor and flicks it on his face, trying to wake him up.
A few flicks of water and the Mul'niessa comes round, one eye opening. The other is swelling to full obscurity. He's got a dark bulge on the side of his jaw as well. Sitting in a compromised position, he still might spring up, but it's a foregone conclusion if he does.
She's beaten him unconscious three times now? She might as well brand him, she owned his ass.
He glares in full realization of this. <sildanyari>
"What?" <sildanyari>
Wu pets Betsy gently. "There's a good girl. Did that mean, stupid man pull your trigger? Did he? Such a meanie.." He cocks his head at that angle again and then uses the sword in his hand to give Mr. Stunned a poke or two. Nothing to damage him but to keep him moved off and away. "Eh!"
Aryia waits for a moment, seeing what he'll end up doing. Seeing that he was finally compliant (even if it was beaten into him), she sighs and pulls out a page from her journal. She hands it to him. The page reads in clean Tradespeak:
"Speak quietly or I'll crush your throat."
"Who hired you to capture me?"
"Why did they try and capture me?"
"Do you work with the Syndicate? What is you relation with them?"
"Why did you attack the goblin that was with me?"
"Explain your connection with the boat that sailed away after your ambush failed."
"Answer my questions and I will stop perusing you."
Poked, the stunned man staggers off into a nearby room, still covering his head. The boss-man who fondled Betsy's trigger is no where to be seen, by Wu. He is off in the other room, whispering and looking in the old man's general direction to a prisoner who seems to need some further convincing.
The Mul'niessa takes the page from Aryia. He's also heavily scarred, some from combat, others are from ritual. He's been trained, and marked for his accomplishments.
"Xyldric." He says, naming the Keeper of the Colosseum pits, the Gladiator Master responsible for training them, setting them in the fights, and arranging for escapees to be tracked down. "Baldrin wants you back. Paid a lot. Still willing to throw money after you."
"Syndicate was hired to help, here."
He sighs, shaking his head, not answering a couple questions then saying, "Boat was transport, last minute cargo arranged. Wasn't suppose to leave." <sildanyari>
Wu puts George away and then with style he places another bolt in Betsy and cocks the heavy crossbow with an ease that speaks of long use and training despite his craziness. He steps up into the next doorframe and shoots an evil sideways glare at Mr. Stunned.
The names make her face pale to ash. She blinks. Then blinks again before snatching the page from him and shoving it into a puddle. Aryia rubs it in, letting it turn to pulp and throwing the oversized spitball to the side to slide against wall. "F-ck-g B-d-r-," she hisses. The answers were enough for her, and she stands.
A hand does some gestures. "If you try again, I will kill you," she threatens, finishing with running a finger across her already slit throat and leaves him be.
She passes by the old man and then waits by the door to leave. Arms crossed, scowl set deep on her face. And the answers locked in her head so she could write them down later. <Handspeech>
Mr. Stunned continues to move away from Wu, taking up a good glowering position at the entrance to one of the smaller washing rooms. Mr. Fingers, aka the Boss-man, continues to talk to a prisoner, while a bunch of the others move around in the room. Suddenly other wash-basins are much better.
Wu continues to 'keep watch' Every now and again glancing at Aryia. "Can ya possibly lead me outa here, Miss? I'd be willing to buy you a drink or three. Damn rooms all look and smell the same around here." He's joking right? No.. no he's not joking.
"The syndicate has marked me." The Mul'niessa says to Aryia's retreating back, "After that bar."
"Thought you were it." He admits, staring, "tried for solitary, they keep putting me back in general. Just a matter of time before someone does."
That said, he goes back to glaring at the other prisoners. Any one of them could be it. Any, single one. <sildanyari> The Mul'niessa laughs, and adds in tradespeak, "I'll buy you a drink too."
"N-t - pr-b-m," she hisses back as she turns the corner. Aryia nods to Wu and keeps her back to the door, waiting to be let out and so that no others would assault her with a sock. <Sildanyari>
Amazingly enough Wu has no issues at all understanding Aryia's hard fought speech. He simply nods and continues to be watchful. But watchful for him is sooo odd.
The Mul'niessa says nothing further, his only thoughts added in multilingual glares.
Mr. Fingers and Mr. Stunned continue to move around the laundry, whispering, eventually coaxing nods from various prisoners. Time crawls by very slowly.
There's a clank, and the inner doors open. An authoritative voice calls through, "Stand. Walk forward. Wait for the door to close. Only two."
It seems Wu can be escorted out.
The outer door opens, it's the Oruch again. He looks over Aryia, stares for a while at Wu. He steps aside, "You know the way out. I saw nothing."
"Hope you didn't leave a mess. Blood is real hard to come clean."
OOC and Combatty
Map
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mesajpsedk2
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
22 Mul'niessa
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15 Wu 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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15 Unfriendlies?
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9 Friendlies?
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5 Aryia 5 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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==============================================================================
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 2 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
22 Mul'niessa 1
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>> 16 Aryia 5 <<
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15 Wu 1
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15 Unfriendlies? 1
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9 Friendlies? 1
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==============================================================================
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| Name | Race | Class | CHP | HP | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Aryia |SHADOW_ELF|Mnk | 36 | 36 |19/15/18 | 24 | 7 | 9 | 5 |
|Wu |HUMAN |Ftr | 19 | 19 |18/15/13 | 17 | 5 | 3 | 2 |
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| Name | Race | Class | CHP | HP | AC/FF/T |CMD |For |Ref |Wil |
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|Aryia |SHADOW_ELF|Mnk | 28 | 36 |19/15/18 | 24 | 7 | 9 | 5 |
|Wu |HUMAN |Ftr | 19 | 19 |18/15/13 | 17 | 5 | 3 | 2 |
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<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "This has absolutely nothing to do with my washer being broke and me having to do it by hand all day (for a year). I swear!"
<OOC> Wu brow raises
<OOC> Aryia says, "so we're beating up a washing machine golem gone haywire, got it :p"
<OOC> Aryia says, "thanks for running this"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "no worries."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "I was hoping to have Culix involved but it's been a couple weeks, and a scene that only a certain 2 PCs can be in is kind of rough, so I wanted to see if I could clear it out"
<OOC> Aryia says, "I understand, yeah"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "definitely not 'see that little puddle on the glacier, that goes down 40 feet'"
<OOC> Cryosanthia nods, "Okay, make the pose
<OOC> Aryia says, "look cryo i KNOW that puddle is actually a portal to the plane of water you CANNOT stop me"
<OOC> Aryia splash
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Nuuuuuu!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "we lost Aryia"
<OOC> Aryia goes to write a new character
<OOC> Cryosanthia psssts, "Something that can breathe water. Hey, I hear Sith are good."
<OOC> Aryia says, "if kobolds were playable I'd play a kobold that thought they were a sith"
<OOC> Cryosanthia hugs Aryia so tight.