Demonic Influence
Log Info
- Title: Demonic Influence
- Emitter: Cryosanthia, Zeke
- Characters: Jinks, Aryia, Seyardu, Lysos, Merek, Aya, Cesran
- Place: Noble District: The Estate of Reginald Swadling
- Time: Saturday, September 18, 2021, 3:05 PM
- Summary: Lord Swadling invites various noteworthy nobles and adventures to be his guests at a swaray, including among them Lord Altay and his wife. Rumors abound and fly through the high society, spread somewhat by the adventurers in attendance. The party is interrupted however when a confrontation between Lord Swadling and his son breaks out. The two exchange actual physical blows and much magic flies about the room. Nobles are knocked out, fire spreads across the ballroom; water joins the fray and soon everyone is running for the exit in chaos. In the end several people die in the exchange, and nobody's quite sure who to blame.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a resolved look about her. Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. Merek 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes. Sabina 5'4" 130 Lb Human Female Tsuran woman of dark hair and green eyes. Seyardu 5'6" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Female A friendly silver sith-makar with a perpetual squint. Cesran 6'1" 185 Lb Human Male A tall dark-skinned man. Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. Lysos 5'6" 105 Lb Human/Tsuran Female Dark eyes, dark hair, olive skin, with a chip on her shoulder. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GMs -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 7'2" 391 Lb Dragon Female Sickly, tattered grey-scales, with a crippled wing and tail. Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Swadling Estates
The oppulent Swadling Estates, domain of Master Reginal Swadling, a notable and notorious noble with a prestigious pedigree. The ballroom is as bombastic and ostentatious as he is. A marble floor, dusky granite columns, a raised balcony overlooking meticulously sculpted gardens. Ornate chandeliers light the space, hanging from a cathedral ceiling a good three stories up, with a mural portraying the many victories of his lineage over infernal forces. The images are graphic, and tonally dissonant, some sections show great brutality and anatomically correct injuries, with burst organs, brains and intestines spilling out. Others are anatomically correct in other ways unlikely to happen on the battlefield. Clothing and armour rarely rips off quite so cleanly.
Master Swadling stands prominently in front of the balcony, holding court. He is an old, but still strong Oruch with an olive complexion. His clothing is an elaborate sartorial statement, one that says 'look at me'. Primarily verdant, with various shades of green, one even iridescent, it is enhanced by contrasting colours, lilacs, oranges, reds, and greys. It has a militaristic design, though one unfamiliar to these parts.
This 'little soiree' is one of his many, parties. While some are rumoured to be as excessive as the ceiling mural, this one is comparatively sedate, an effort to quell rumours that have recently been circulating. There is wine, food, and many guests that are titled and important. The crustiest of the upper crust have gathered, with their spouses or escorts, in some cases both. Dawn Elves and humans, primarily, with a scattering of small folk. No other goblinoids seem to have floated high enough of to warrant an invite.
The servants circulate, carrying drink trays and appetizers. There are no entrees, it will be a night of nibbling and small-talk. Reginald's staff is uniformly female, human, and have a similar tanned, olive skin as he does. They all have close shaved hair, originally blond, but aside for the slight halo of suzz they might as well be bald. They wear sensible shoes, dark green slacks, a matching jacket with a lime blouse. On the lapel is a small pin, the master's coat of arms.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Do you want to know more? DC20 k/local or k/nobility to know more!" GAME: Cesran rolls knowledge/local: (10)+27: 37 GAME: Aryia rolls knowledge/local: (15)+2: 17
Noteably, Lord Altay is in attendance. He was recently arrested for supplying questionable meat to the Chili cookoff, he was released as he blamed his suppliers. Master Swadling is an elderly orc from a family of devil fighters, famous for having the biggest balls of them all.
He is rumoured to have infernal blood in his family line, it is utterly unfounded, of course.
Masks are optional and encouraged. Surely no one will recognize the silver sith-makar in the mask.
Great. An invitation to this guy's place. Aryia wasn't sure if she should burn it or not. But, it was a lead, and one that she would take.
Amongst the crowd of people was a well dressed mul'neissa. They wore dark blue boots and black slacks, with a shimmery silver vest atop a long sleeved, white button up shirt. Their hands were draped in white cloth gloves, and a plain white, full mask covered their visage. The only indicator that this Sildanyar was of mul'neissa descent was the long ears that jutted out of the sides of her head, silver bands marking the edges of them, as well as moon colored hair in a short braid behind her.
Aryia has never been to a party, but she finds her role quite briskly: a wallflower, with a full glass of water, untouched, in hand. And her doing everything in her power to not bounce her knee in nervousness. Either in anxiety of the location, or, just people. She huffs in a long exhale. Probably the people.
Aya has not forgotten 'Master' Swadling, nor his ... particular househould. Whether or not he is, in fact, the head of his household again (or ever?), remains to be seen. Perhaps ironically, it is his sordid history that prevented her from burning the invitation or simply tossing it out.
As for a masquerade... as concept worked so smashingly well the last time she attempted such, she dispenses with such formality and discretion. Either the family purged their ties to 'outside' influence, or they did not. Aya believes they could be of some use in either case, and that is all the more easily enabled if they know who she is.
Seyardu did not leave on the best terms with the master of the house, nor did she want to. So the fact she received an invitation to join the party was a surprise,concern, and worry, all at once. But she did accept, to keep an eye on those going. With masks an option, there was a curious sight. a broad woman in a flowing dark green dress the color of a forest canopy that hid her tail and feet joined the group, with a matching, wide brimmed hat and shawl, silk gloves. A mask like a plague doctor's covered her head and snout.
So she joined, not eating herself, but speaking cordially with those she came across.
A beautiful blond-haried gnome in a lovely light blue dress dress and beautiful peacock mask makes her way in. She looks around and starts to mingle with the others although not saying anything. She has a light blue fan with her that she uses to gently fan herself off and she smiles demurely and answers in a soft voice. She introduces herself to those that ask as Lady Regina Farweather.
One of the nobles in attendance is a man in bright colors. Orange, yellow, and green, all brightly hued makes him stand out. At his side is a woman in complementary colors, her hair in an elaborate updo that goes well with the ostentatious gown she's wearing. Behind her is another woman, but this one is obviously trying not to be noticed. Her dark gray garb keeps her out of the limelight, and her hair falls freely about her face.
Notably, in spite of her dour clothes she's actually remarkably pretty. Far more beautiful than the woman that she totes around behind. She holds a glass for the woman in bright citrus shades, offering it now and again when the woman snaps her fingers for it.
The man, keeps the woman on his arm, and since they both wear yellow, smiling masks it's not immediately apparent whom they are.
GAME: Aya rolls perception: (13)+28: 41 GAME: Cesran rolls perception: (16)+22: 38 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (16)+15: 31 GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (19)+4: 23
They do however, introduce themselves quite loudly and proudly to the other nobles as Lord and Lady Altay. A name which garners them some attention.
You paged (Lysos, Zeke) with 'hee! you can be here invisibly if you want, or Bluff DC20 to come in as a servant.' GAME: Lysos rolls bluff: (1)+18: 19 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Lysos casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
Lysos heard there was going to be a party. Not that she's one to seek those out on a nightly basis, but she'd heard a few things about this particular estate and the parties the master was known to throw... so she decided to see for herself. Too bad the door sentries at the servant's entrance had rods stapled to their spines to do any paladin proud; she was unable to convince them she was part of the entertainment and had gotten separated from her co-dancers. Not to be deterred, however, once she was out of sight, and with a few modifications to her 'dancers' dress and a spare mask she swiped from one of the other guests' carriages, she employed a little bit of her control over the fabric of reality to slip past those sentries.
The Ballroom is filled with nobles, in small groups with most congregating around Master Reginald. Despite sending out invitations, he isn't making an effort to meet his guests. They can come to him. He is surrounded by a small throng, whom he is entertaining. The men are in tuxedos and suits, discretely dressed down. The women in more elaborate affairs, some which occupy a lot of floor space.
Most have masks on sticks, which they hold up occasionally to their faces, though their disguises are largely in-spirit only. Maintained for introductions, where they guess each other's identity, and then abandoned for loud introductions, like the noble Altay's have done.
Snippets of conversation can be overheard, "It's amazing he's lasted so long." "Did you see the size of her train?" "So old, so strong." "She is definitely in a 'delicate' condition." "Well one of his women is going to inherit it all." "It appears Leticia has swapped out her bed boy again." "Hah! Amazing way to get them to mother his sons." "I lost a substantial amount on last month's jousting tourney." "Some of them are his sons mothers, dear, some of them are."
The Master, meanwhile, is prone to fits of loud boasting, even challenging some of his guests to wrestle him to see he 'still has it'. They politely decline. Being a noble does not prevent being boorish.
Aryia, from her wall flower position, turns her head ever so slightly towards the loud-mouthed nobles. And she pauses. Altay? Out of jail? Again? Glad she was for the mask she wore, else a massive frown would be broadcast to all. Hopefully she gave that jerk a limp from where she crushed his knee on the way out.
If he was here, this would not be good. Shimmering eyes from behind the mask hop from person to person, doing her best to find who was who, as well as a way out if need be. She moves a bit away from the fan fare, not wanting to be singled out for a wrestling match amongst the group of people. Even if it was folly, she'd probably wouldn't be able to contain her anger.
Some nobles do come up to speak with the silent woman, though they end up talking with a brick wall as most conversation is met with a blank, blinking stare behind the two angled slits in the otherwise featureless mask.
It was one of those times where Seyardu was happy for her practiced accent, or lack thereof. there was no hiding she was a sith-makar, but lacking the normal sibilant lisp made more nobles willing to speak with her. She kept conversations light and cordial, but lord Altay announcing their presence made her turn her head. "I am amazed that he is making his presence so loudly known. She says to one of the more gossiping party goers. "Have youe heard what has happened? Selling slaves to charn, accusations of cannibalism, I am surprised he even received an invitation."
"Oh my gosh, that's so shocking!" A dawn elf flutters her fan, and looks Lord Altay's way.
So far, so good, it seems. With her magic carrying her beyond the servants halls, Lysos ducks into a small alcove shortly before her magic fades. Then, a last minute check over her dress, a quick rearrangement of her curls with her headscarf to pull over one shoulder... and then she walks into the ballroom proper, immediately helping herself to some refreshments.
Lady Regina Farweather continues to slowly flitter around the room. Being small has it's advantages as she's able to listen in on snippets of conversation. Most of it is boring gossip, but everyone's attention seems to be on Lord and Lady Altay. Lady Regina Farweather moves a bit closer so she can hear what's going on.
Aya's milling about the crowd is less mingling and much more stepping through whilst observing. Watching, listening to passing gossip (to a degree), and the like. The introductions of the yellow-clad pair draw her eyes promptly towards them. That is a name she won't soon forget, and now she wonders how many more of those present may have powerful ...friends. Still, she knows, or suspects enough, of Altay's allegiances, and begins to make her way towards.
The lord and lady Altay are getting a fair amount of attention. The lord in question is talking none too-gently about the Adventurer's guild and how incompetent and outright untrustworthy they are. He points out that their accusations are the cause of his current legal woes, and bemoans the fact that the judiciary seem to actually be taking thing seriously (though not /too/ seriously or he might have missed this important social event). He's simply grateful that no one of /note/ is listening to the fools from the guild who are rubbing his name through the mud. As they could do to absolutely anyone.
And isn't that a terrible idea?
Beside him, his wife shakes her head sadly, and motions for the lady behind her to fetch a new glass for them both which sends the woman off in the direction of drinks. She rolls her eyes the moment that the lady in question isn't looking at her.
"Those rumours are baseless!" Master Swadling can be hear, practically shouting at one of the guests near him who must have impertinently repeated the one that has dogged his family line. He points at the gory mural overhead, "Look, there! Great Bo'zorileh, my ancestor, standing atop a pile of devil corpses. Ger'garath, defending the pass. We do not fall, we do not break."
"What about those?" Another Dawn Elf noble titters at Reginald, pointing at a less gory and more erotic scene on another part of ceiling. He's forced to curb his temper with her.
He has some noble sensibilities. "It can't all be enraging. The mural is an heirloom."
Not many though.
The servants circulate, each of them casting glares at each other, and occasionally the nobles. One stops near Aryia with a huff, takes her glass of water and hands her one of wine.
"Then again, perhaps it is not that shocking. I heard that this party is an attempt to diffuse the rumors going around about the lord." Seyardu continues, plucking a fan out of her bag to waft against her face as she saw so many seeming to do. "I would not go near him, there were nobles at the Colosseum that day, and he thought nothing of harming them the same way. I wouldn't be surprised if he mixed something into the drinks, I heard that happened with Lord Swadling. It may be best to depart early, and find another more upstanding party to attend."
Aryia glances up to Swadling at his near outburst, then down to the two nobles that should very well not be here. At least all their efforts of dragging them down were working, especially if they had to throw such a pointless event to smooth it all over.
The masked elf glances to the green dressed lass with a fan. Her frame loses some tension. Looks like it wasn't working as well as it should. Aryia's attention shifts to the servant that takes her stale glass of water and replaces it with wine. She huffs as well, nodding in empathy as she reaches a gloved hand out to pat them on the arm reassuringly. A thought passes her as she uproots herself from the wall and taps the servant lass on the arm. She tilts her head to the side, points to the wine in hand, then gives a thumb up and a thumbs down. To the more savvy: "This good to drink? Bad?" <Handspeech>
"It's a light, sweet white made from grapes from a vineyard on the sunny side of the Redridge," the green-clad woman explains, perhaps used to elaborating for the other guests, "the other half is white grape juice, it shouldn't impair, but will be nicer than water and you'll fit in better."
A haughty looking human makes a come-hither gesture in her direction, shaking an empty glass. She adds to Aryia, "Must go. Thanks... for coming."
Lady Regina Farweather takes a glass of wine and gives a polite nod of thanks to the servant. She doesn't take a drink of it as she continues move about to different groups. She continues to just listen, although making sure not to sip at the wine to just hold it. She does keep an eye on where the Lord and Lady Altay.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Lysos, roll REF Save, DC 18 to not have someone run into you" GAME: Lysos rolls reflex: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d2: (2): 2 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "you get tangled up in a large dress unexpectedly" <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "woman in one of those hoop dresses that takes up a 10x10 square"
One of the Lady's glides by, a nearby gnome comments, "Damn that's a big dress."
"Thank you darling."
Putting so much effort into trying to look like she belongs, Lysos's judgement isn't quite sound when she tries to squeeze through two different groups chatting with each other. Having also misjudged just expansive some of these dresses can be, her foot gets caught up in some of the lace at the hem of on particularly broad dress... and trying to snatch it free only seems to make things worse as her leg gets entangled into it as if it were a living thing. The glass she's holding goes tumbling before she's had so much of a taste from it, hands flailing about as she tries to keep her balance.
"It -is- terrible, isn't it?" Aya shares words of agreement with Altay's complaints as she nears the pair. From what she noted of him at the colosseum, yellow really could be his color. "That those of the city would be concerned for their own safety. Investigate atrocities. Seek to hold culpable those responsible. How terribly inconvenient." A pointed eyeing at him, before her eyes shift to the clattering of glass and tangled clothing.
Altay snorts at Aya. "Those lower-born should know their place, and it's not to meddle in the affairs of those with noble blood. We nobles have to stick together." A few nobles around him nod in agreement, but a few others seem to be wandering toward a sith not so far away. Altay frowns and coughs, eyeing Aya grumpily. "I-"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Seyardu, DC20 Diplomacy to talk a few people away from Altay" GAME: Seyardu rolls diplomacy: (11)+12: 23
"Oh, oh my." One of the other Ladies says in response to the silver sith's comments.
"Come darling, over here, I believe you'll appreciate this part of the mural." Her companion leads her away.
Altay's lady hands him her glass and moves toward Seyardu. She has a frown fixed on her face, and noticing her lady heading toward Seyardu, the lady-in-waiting heads for her. Once the woman reaches Seyardu she fixes the sith-makar with a dead stare. "How dare you speak of my husband so. How dare you tarnish our good family name. Shame on you. I heard that it was a /sith/ who was spreading rumors at the charity event that my husband threw. I imagine that was you then?"
Aryia's gaze eases as the servant is pulled away, her giving a nod towards her. A subtle swooping hand goes in front of her. "You're welcome. And thanks." Good to know the best way to mingle would be to just hold a glass of wine in hand.
Her attention is pulled towards the hissing Lady Altay. Seeing as her wall flowering might soon be over, she peels herself off the wall, using the twin distraction of wardrobe disaster and 'distasteful' slandering to over to a nearby pillar to be vigil. <Handspeech>
There's a commotion over by Reginal. Something is going on. The nobles are parting to let a man through, and the family resemblance is clear. His eldest son, Tran, may be 'only' a half-oruch, but he has pushed his heritage to its limits. Naked to the waist, he has wedge shaped shoulders and heavily defined muscles. Each motion is restrained power. His mere build suggests what Reginald's might have looked at in his prime, before too many years and parties packed onto his frame.
"Father! Enough with your foolish challenges to fops. Explain, now, why you do this to me? Your one true son?"
A blustering guffaw interrupts whatever Reginald was in the process of saying. His wrinkled face is shifts from olive to brown, his nostrils flare. He turns on his son, bombast ready to fly. "You know why! How dare you come half-dressed. You have no claim!"
There's a wild look in the old man's piggy eyes, the look of one ready to tear down everything. "My firstborn died with my wife! You're a side-shot that should have been swallowed! Fitting, after what you have!"
Lady Regina Farweather hears the commotion that seems to be coming from the other side of the room. She starts to slowly make her away towards it so that she can see what's going on. She sees the confrontation between father and child as well as Lady Altay confronting the other masked guest. Lady Regina Farweather attention though moves to Lord Altay to see what he's doing in all of this.
Seyardu was even more unreadable from behind her mask and clothing. She continues to fan her face. "Rumors? Rumors require no proof of truth. I do not know how much your husband has told you of his business, but I hope that it is little." She states. "I have not tarnished your family name, your husband did that to an impressive degree himself, and flounders when it is brought to light, fights it to the bitter end. With how hard he fought, I worry how much he has lied to you as well. I would distance yourself from him before it is too late. Yet the fact that you are confronting me such as this, gives me little hope."
"The charity event had humanoid meat in the food being offered. There is no refuting this."
"Look, if you just stay still.." Lysos is on the receiving end of a severe scolding from the Lady whose dress attacked her. She's trying, with an effort approaching desperation, to extract her foot... the more attention that might go her way, the more likely she is to get ejected out of the party after all. One of the servants is already cleaning up her mess in that unobtrusive manner they have, but the Lady of the Large Dress's demands to know what gutter Lysos dragged herself out of isn't helping. Finally, she gets her foot free.. only it's because her foot slipped free of her boot, so now she's having to kneel to extricate that.
Between Seyardu's subtle verbal lashing, the dress mishap, and the feuding family, Aryia couldn't help but smirk behind her mask. Was this why people go to these things? She wasn't sure why, but part of her took a guilty pleasure in watching the drama unfold. If only she had a drink to sip from.
>Tink!<
Oh, right, she's masked. Probably for the best. Maybe she could spill it on someone later as her attention flicks between son and father, as well as Seyardu's altercation.
Lord Altay laughs as his lady goes off to argue with Seyardu, chuckling lightly and looking at his fellow nobles with that expression of 'women will do what women will do' that some men have. "That's my lady. I only wish she would settle a little. Considering her delicate condition."
Meanwhile Lady Altay is furious, her expression a mask of fury. "Lord Erik provided us with those ingredients and he has been /nothing/ but kind and giving to us. I refuse to believe that he or my husband have anything to do with the things you accuse them of. What if someone switched the meat? You have no proof that he had anything to do with it!"
The lady-in-waiting comes up behind the woman and touches her lightly. "Remember your condition..." She warns the Lady Altay who backs down a little, but now there are tears in her eyes, and her fury hasn't half-faded. The lady-in-waiting smiles politely. "You must be one of the adventurers that the Lord invited." This to Seyardu.
<OOC> Zeke needs a will save from Seyardu GAME: Seyardu rolls will +2: (1)+8+2: 11 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Seyardu says, "I'm rerolling that" GAME: Seyardu rolls will +2: (20)+8+2: 30 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
"How DARE you!" Tran snarls, a sudden fire in his eyes. There's a crackling of flame across the muscles of his back. All of them are bulging, viens straining as they swell. His hands curl.
"How DARE YOU?" Reginald roars back, his elaborate uniform looking unpleasantly tight as his face gets a deeper brown. His hands become fists, "In front of Me, in front of My guests, in front of MY ANCESTORS! How DARE you this DISGRACE? After you lapped her blood. I disinherit you, right now, in front of all!"
"YOU ARE NOT MY SON!"
"FATHER I TAKE MY INHERITANCE NOW!" Tran roars, screaming and spitting fire. He fills with rage, he grows larger. An infernal aspect appears on his face, and his hands turn to claws.
<OOC> Seyardu says, "I'm going to take a five foot step back to 8,12, cast bless, And move action to draw weapon" <OOC> Zeke says, "You can roll a knowledge/arcana check but no." GAME: Seyardu rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (13)+5: 18 GAME: Seyardu casts Bless. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14
"And what has he told you about his business at his warehouse? Has he convinced you he somehow managed to amass so many lifelike statues? If he had nothing to hide, why did he bribe the guard with him to hide what was happening?" Seyardu asks, taking a step back. Are you injured or ill in some way? Perhaps there is something I could do for you. But your husband, he is consorting with fiends. I would not be surprised if this lord Erik is one. I would consider it he had nothing to do, but he has completely lost the benefit of the doubt. You must have seen this, and tried not to believe it."
At the commotion, she looks to the two oruch, and grasps her chest. "Celestial mother, guide our hands, to resolve this conflict." She prays, inspiring the others nearby. If there was a fight coming with the two, she may have to step in to resolve it. <Draconic>
GAME: Cesran casts Scintillating Pattern. Caster Level: 20 DC: 30 <OOC> Cesran says, "ON to the blue wineglass" Note: 'half are 1HD, the other half 2, so 10HD used up before it hits Lady-in-Waiting, Lady Altay and Lord Altay' <OOC> Cesran says, "Oh move action, draw quickened rod"
Cesran sees the fight brewing between father and son, "Well let's make sure we don't have any outside interference." He says as he lets his disguise fall away revealing himself to the other party goers. He starts to cast a spell and a sphere of bright colors appears around Lord and Lady Altay and their lady in waiting. He watches as all the nobles fall unconscious and looks to the others, "I'll got the nobles covered if the rest of you want to deal with father and son."
To the eyes of the guests, the heavily costumed sith'makari cast a spell and half the guests fainted.
<OOC> Zeke says, "Sense motive checks also please. When you have a chance." GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (16)+13: 29 GAME: Aya rolls sense motive: (4)+19: 23 GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (12)+7: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls sense motive: (10)+7: 17 GAME: Cesran rolls sense motive: (13)+2: 15
Even the Lord and Lady Altay have hit the deck. Their servant as well. Although....
GAME: Lysos casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18 (earlier cast) GAME: Lysos casts Invisibility. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
Lysos abandons her boot. It was starting to give her blisters, anyways. She quickly traces an ovilish shape in front of her, finger trailing faint wisps of arcana, then she pokes it in the center while uttering, "Obscurio." And then the vanishes. A moment later, a disembodied voice is yelling, "FIRE! FIRE!"
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Tran wails on Reginald, Reginal wails on Tran, they won't miss. Here's Tran's damage" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d6+3: (6)+3: 9 (Tran's local AoE flame as he infernals up) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "emitting, skipping the rolls on them for now" GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (8)+13+(5): 26 GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (2)+13+(4): 19 GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (6)+13+(3): 22 GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (7)+13+(3): 23 GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (5)+13+(6): 24 GAME: Ashes rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (6)+13+(3): 22 <OOC> Cryosanthia rolled it on her alt for surprise purposes.
Fire.
Fire! Not just Lysos' warning. The flames flickering in Tran's eyes and across his body swell into ball, exploding around him.
More lords and ladies hit the floor, their close catching as they are overwhelmed.
He starts an unrelenting beat down on his father. It's brutal, violent and fast. His hands have turned into flaming claws, which cut into his patriarch and slash his elaborate uniform to pieces.
Perhaps even more impressive, Reginald weathers it. Not well, he couldn't survive a second round of this, but he hasn't fallen.
"YOU!" Reginal drives a spearhand into Tran's washboard abdomen. "ARE!" He follows with an uppercut, reaching high at the jaw that towers over him. "NOT!" A knee is exposed, and takes his full fury in a fist. "MY!" This is followed by another flat fist to the same location he struck before, "SON!"
Guests and servants start to clear out.
The nobles are not adventurers, none of them move to help the Altays. They're all saving their own skins. It's the servants who are making efforts, and currently, they're focusing on moving the ambulatory guests out.
<OOC> Aya would like to toss a Faeri Fire on the suspiciously conscious lady in-faking GAME: Aya rolls monk: (20)+18: 38 GAME: Aya spends ONE use of FAERIE FIRE.
Aya crouches at the sudden brilliance, but promptly returns her attention to Altay. She suspects his alliances, and suspicion is enough for now. Seeing him on the ground, she shifts to his spouse and entourage. That is when she notices the not quite so impaired maidservant. "Be wary of that one!" she calls before bandaging shadows from the same to bathe her in violet glow. on the ground.
<OOC> Aryia says, "aryia will use barkskin, warn Sey, then slip around the pillar to 8,14 to hide" GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL. GAME: Aryia rolls stealth: (18)+14: 32
Aryia slams her eyes shut as the crazy colors blast off, her tossing her drink behind her and kneeling. She gets her bearings, looking at all that was going on. And then her attention shifts to the lady-in-waiting. She squints.
She claps twice, an oddly metallic sound despite the gloves she was wearing and gestures to the green-clad sith-makar. "Caution! Fake asleep!" she gestures briskly before pointing at the one that Aya set on 'fire'. The dapper mul'neissa slips behind the pillar and- wait, where'd she go?
The mute pugilist closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and draws upon a painful memory. From somewhere behind the pillars, there is a satisfying crack of a neck. <Handspeech>
<OOC> Merek says, "Alright, I'm going to drop Greater Angelic Aspect, step between so he can't kill his father if that's possible." Zeke pages: He'd provoke an AOO casting in combat range assuming he's that close, or by moving through the threat radius. <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "assuming you are casting out of range and moving in, You'll provoke an AOO." <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "You will have to do a bull rush CMB to get between, pick whether you want to move Reginal or Tran" <OOC> Merek says, "Ya, will be wanting to move Reginal." GAME: Merek casts Greater Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 15 DC: 22 GAME: Merek rolls cmb: (5)+12: 17 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+30: (3)+30: 33 (AOO on merek) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 2d6+13+1d6: (4)+13+(5): 22 (5 Fire) <OOC> Merek says, "I do have Fire Resist 10 from Greater Angelic" GAME: Tran damaged Merek for 17 points. 87 HP remaining.
Merek of course knows a lot about socialite work and would look for an invite. He would still be wearing his dark attire and trying to keep from talking to many people. When it looks like things are coming to a fight, he will shimmer with magic while wings then will come from the man's back even while he swings along into the fight. He does manage to avoid a little bit although it strikes the man and he's not able to keep the two from fighting while he takes the time to try and keep Reginal from Tran.
"STAY OUT!" Tran snarls, swiping at the angel that appeared out of nowhere, raking flaming claws across him. "FAMILY FIGHT!"
<OOC> Zeke says, "Perception rolls!" GAME: Merek rolls perception: (9)+25: 34 GAME: Cesran rolls perception: (10)+22: 32 GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (2)+15: 17 GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (5)+4: 9
The group of nobles hit by the spell lay on the floor immobile and uselessly. They don't even seem conscious. There's shocked murmuring from the nobles that are being hurried away from the scene. Many of them cast suspicious and harsh glances at Seyardu and Cesran as they pass by. It seems that many don't know who to blame for the magic, but don't trust the adventurers who cast it.
Four Lords and One Lady is down. The Lord beside Reginal is trying to pull him back, like Merek. Also failing, like Merek.
Also, three of them are on fire.
<OOC> Seyardu says, "moving to 14,11, keeping 2 spaces south of the brown cocktail glass" <OOC> Seyardu says, "Then I'm going to channel energy excluding the brown dress and the two fighting with selective channel" GAME: Seyardu rolls 3d6: (8): 8
Seyardu sees things escalating out of control, and was about to rush over to get closer to the fallen people when Aya speaks up and Aryia gestures for her attention. "Take care, I will do what I can for those around the two Oruchs!" She shouts back, though now, she keeps a wide berth of the prone woman. There was a pause near to Lord Altay, but she continues on, focused on saving lives rather than ending his. The holy symbol is held up, emanating a wave of restorative magics to the nobles nearby.
"Get those nearby away from the fighting!" She shouts to those still standing, her attention torn between everything around her.
This helps the injured, but does not rouse them. At least they won't burn to death while unconscious.
<OOC> Cesran says, "stop concentration on the Pattern, so it's got 2 more rounds." <OOC> Cesran says, "Casting Crushing hand, but use it like a forceful hand to bullrush Tash off his father." GAME: Cesran casts Crushing Hand. Caster Level: 20 DC: 33 GAME: Cesran rolls 1d20+20+12+1: (16)+20+12+1: 49 (Bull Rush CMB) <OOC> Cesran says, "The Crushing hand's CMD is 43"
Cesran sees the father and son fighting, "That's enough the both of you!" He ignores the dirty looks he gets from the nobles as he's showing them what true magical power is. He casts a spell and a large hand appears from the left and then it slams into Tran pushing him back away from his father. He looks over towards the lady in waiting, "Hey you on the floor I can see that you are not unconscious from my spell, whatever you put in Lady Altay's pocket, good for her for having a dress with pockets, I suggest you stop whatever you have planned, and put your hands up. This is your only warning."
<OOC> Lysos says, "I think I 60' line should get the four blues between big red and his dad, am I correct?" <OOC> Lysos says, "If so, I'd like to use Hydraulic Torrent to push them out of the way, and also put out their fires." GAME: Lysos casts Hydraulic Torrent. Caster Level: 7 DC: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls 1d20+7+6: (6)+7+6: 19
Lysos glances back over her shoulder at the big doors, so, so tempted to follow, what little she ate and imbibed sitting rather poorly in her stomach right now. But the shouting, the yelling.. the fire, draws her back. She clenches her fists for a moment, then sets her jaw. Eyes on the fallen burning people... "Okay," she tells herself. "You can do this." She shuffles a little bit to her side, then holds both hands in front of her, drawing in mana to open up a conduit... then she presses her wrists together, palms out towards the fallen party goers, and yells, "Soakus MOSTUS!" A veritable torrent of water blasts forth, washing over some of those fallen people, immediately quenching their flames as the water sends them sliding and rolling up to the steps leading to the stage. When the magic fades, Lysos is left standing there, fully visible once again, breathing hard.
<OOC> Jinks says, "Move to 18,12 drawing my dagger along the way." <OOC> Jinks says, "I'll spark up the Inspire Courage in preparation for things to continue feistily." GAME: Jinks spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE. <OOC> Jinks says, "Omit the Altays and "It's not just a phase, DAD!" Swadling." <OOC> Jinks says, "+2 morale saves vs. Charm and Fear. +2 competence to Hit/Damage."
Jinks' 'mask' is the thinnest spiderweb of black lace over his eyes, his suit a plum-and-eggplant affair of swirling patterns, a high, straight neck, and draping cuffs. He breaks from the press of confused nobles pulling the smallest of knives from his sleeve and frowning at the feral Swadling. He licks his lips quickly and dives into the Hymn, splashing down in full-throated verse and issuing a two-part harmony he couldn't muster without ethereal aid.
- "In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade,
- "And he carries the reminders of every glove the laid him down,"
The hulking, raging, fiery brute is lifted by the magical hand over several guests who are suddenly swept out of his reach by an unexpected waves of water. He briefly pushes against the interposing hand, finding it his equal or perhaps more.
"DAMN MAGES!" Tran snarls, glaring at his father, "THIS ISN'T OVER!"
Although, it somewhat is as he turns and charges the balcony, leaping it with preternatural ease and infernal agility. A loud thump announces his landing in the garden, followed by heavy steps away.
Reginal, bloody and burned, howls after him. "COWARD! My blood would not run! You're not Worthy! You are Disowned!" He charges after his offspring, but only as far as the railing.
He's in bad shape... and he's still the host.
Out by the balcony, one of the Lords is helping his lady over the edge, lowering to the gardens below. As Tran charges, he drops her the fifteen feet. Fortunately, she has kicked off her ballroom shoes and while her landing is rough, she's able to stand. The only other guest outside leaps over the side. There's a distant 'ufff' as he lands hard. He's out of danger, at least he believes so. He still strides swiftly away, muttering, "Domestic disputes are the worst."
Two of the guests are attempting to rouse the Altays, a Lord kneels beside Lady Altay, while his Lady is kneeling beside Lord Altay. She shakes him gently. She also calls out, answering the other guests, "It was her! She's responsible! She cast a spell and they all collapsed." The Lady might be forgiven for not noticing it was really Cesran who cast, might.
The altruistic lord shakes Lady Altay to no effect and calls to his partner, "It's not working my Love, we must depart before these *sniff* adventurers turn on us."
Everyone is paying more attention to leaving early however, sharing the sentiment of the balcony jumper. The Lady with the immense dress is through the doorway, thankfully it's twenty feet wide. She is still functioning as a sort of roadblock.
"Stand here with me darlings, I'll protect you," a rakish young man says as he moves to lurk behind a pillary. The three socialites he was entertaining move with him. Although, there's not much protecting to be done.
<OOC> Aya would like to move to Lady Altay, now that Cesran pointed that out, and see about searching pockets. <OOC> Zeke says, "As for you Aya, if you want to search the Lady Altay, you'll need a perception check." GAME: Aya rolls perception: (5)+28: 33 <OOC> Zeke says, "Okay. And now a will save." <OOC> Jinks says, "(+2 if Charm or Fear!)" GAME: Aya rolls will: (10)+17: 27
Aya remains far more wary of the violet-aura'd lady in waiting than even the fiendish family feud occurring. Still, there is some relied when it breaks up... until Cesran mentions items placed in pockets. She darts forward past remaining guests and kneels, rifling through the Lady Altay's pockets. Carefully, or at least intending to. A small item falls into her hand, regardless, then crumbles away between her fingers. "It is ... gone! Or ... activated?" She isn't a magus, so it is a laywoman's presumption.
GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Aryia says, "im rerolling" GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (2)+13: 15
Aryia's anxiety shoots up elevenfold at the mention of something being slipped into the lady's pocket. And it only multiplied further as Aya volunteers to check it out. She bursts out from behind the column, clapping her hands together with a metallic clink. "DON'T TOUCH-"
Shimmery eyes watch the dust fall. Then go back to the mul'neissa. From her gut. She hopes. That nothing took hold. Again. Fighting through that feeling she tears past the pillars, skidding to a stop to be right beside the lady-in-waiting. Both gloves are torn off and thrown behind her. The glinting metal of cold-iron plates revealed below. She gestures threateningly at the downed one. "Stay. Down." <Handspeech>
GAME: Merek rolls heal: (2)+21: 23 (On Reginald) <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Reginald is really badly beaten up. He took 136 HP damage, he's got 30 left" GAME: Merek casts Heal. Caster Level: 15 DC: 20 <OOC> Merek says, "150 HP." GAME: Zeke rolls 1d100: (41): 41
Merek looks around while he takes a moment to adjust the wings, walking along then to Reginal and lifting up a hand. He places that on the man's back, while the energies will begin to heal the man, mending the wounds, bringing him back up to be in fighting condition. Then he coughs a little bit of blood into a hand, pulling his visor which he wears along his face. The dark attire and beltcape about the waist will adjust in the wind along with him.
GAME: Aryia rolls reflex: (17)+11: 28 (has evasion) GAME: Aya rolls reflex: (10)+22: 32 (has improved evasion) GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (16): 16 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (14): 14 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (2): 2 GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (16): 16 <OOC> Zeke only needed two Cryo. But that'll do. Both the nobles on either side are dead. Will pose!
The woman 'comes to' with a startled expression at Aryia, waving her hands and babbling incoherently at the woman. She seems... But then a rush of fire envelops her body and everything around her is engulfed as well. Aryia and Aya both manage to skitter away before the flames can touch them but the two nobles trying to help Lady Altay... and Lady Altay herself is... Burned to ash in a matter of moments. Gone in a flash of flames that seemed to come from nowhere.
GAME: Cesran rolls perception: (12)+22: 34 GAME: Merek rolls perception: (7)+25: 32 GAME: Aya rolls perception: (9)+28: 37 GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (4)+15: 19 GAME: Lysos rolls perception: (6)+6: 12
Nothing unusual was noted, but then the nobles are now rushing the exits to escape the fire...
GAME: Cesran rolls spellcraft: (20)+41: 61 Zeke pages: For log: GAME: Aya rolls wisdom: (16)+6: 22
Reginald looks at Merek as he is healed. He grunts a 'thanks' as his rage fades. He is no longer injured, but his clothes remain ruined, bloody and seared. He claps a hand on the man's shoulder, then slaps it again and turns to look upon his disrupted party.
The young man hiding behind a pillary adjusts his beltcape, exactly in the manner that Merek did, mirroring him, then smiling at the party-goers hiding with him. "Amazing. Simply amazing."
Cesran looks over just in time to see the contained explosion. He frowns as he heads over to the aftermath of the spell, the blue lines on his skin fading after having cast powerful spells. He moves the hand back over towards him to act as an interposing hand. He examines the scene his eyes glowing blue, "Well whatever triggered it it was a very powerful fireball spell that was specially made to target only the lady-in waiting and those closest to her."
Lysos looked over just in time to see the fireball engulf some of the bodies as Aya and Aryia dodge away.. when the flames die, leaving little more than ash in their wake the tsuran arcanist just blinks a few times. Then pales when she puts it together. She puts a hand to her mouth, then staggers over to a pillar to lean against it.
Aryia tilts her head to the side as the lady in waiting blabbers. But then... flames? Fire. Conflagration! The masked elf spin back around the pillar as concentrated fire rushes past her, her tucking her limbs to keep from charring.
She peers around from the corner, sweat dripping out of the bottom of the mask as she steps over to the ashes. Picking up one of her half burned gloves, she fans it at the pile of ash, heart pounding, as she tries to find something to answer for this. And all she finds is tile. A sigh, and a worried look lingers over Aya.
Lords and Ladies continue to leave, the ones that weren't incinerated, or still unconscious. The servants get them to the main doors, after which they turn back while the guests continue to leave.
One Lord is carrying and unconscious one with him. The other, the one who had tried to pull Reginald to safety, is moving a nearby man to the steps.
Away from the unexpected explosion. There have been two so far, there might be more.
Seyardu blinks as the fire is just out of range from her. And as she is recovering from the light, she sees piles of ash.
"Is that all you can say?" She growls at the man behind the pillar. But it was brief, and she moves to the Lord Altay.
A clawed foot comes down, crushing their nose beneath it, claws piercing and raking into their face. Only then does she kick him over to take a bundle of rope out of her bag, and begin roughly tying up his hands.
"Should kill him right now. Doubt he even feels any remorse for his actions still." She says, shaking her head.
Aya reflexively leaps up and away from the sudden burst of flames, body moving almost before she consciously registers the flash of heat. The moment she regains her footing, her eyes flash to Aryia to ensure she is well. The other mul gets a long survey before Aya is satisfied, as there were far too many similarities in that flash of flame to recent events. It may be that such is at the forefront of her thoughts, but that makes it no less concerning to her.
She looks to Cesran after his explanation. "Then she was an agent ... a weapon? A failure?" Several possibilities come to mind and she's not certain that one is better than another. Her head snaps around at Seyardu and she only then realizes that Lord Altay still breathes. "Remorse or not, he may hold information. Vital information." She now moves Altaywards.
"Well of course, those deaths are tragic." The man quickly backpedals. His attempted sympathy, empathy or even basic goodness, is not very convincing. "They'll be in my thoughts and prayers."
"See to your people," Merek will offer along to Reginal, then he points to Seyardu, "Please don't do that to the wounded," he will note, "We don't kill the ones taken down already, or step on them. That way lay the path to a way you don't want to travel." The man coughs a little again while blood comes from his mouth onto the floor, wiping that. He watches from the visor and will take the time to begin to work on divination.
GAME: Merek casts Divination. Caster Level: 15 DC: 18 GAME: Merek rolls 1d100: (30): 30
Master Swadling nods to Merek, turning in time to see the silverscale stomp on Lord Altay's face. "Hey!"
Well... he is one of his 'people'.
Cesran nods, "That's what it looked like. I saw the lady in waiting earlier try to cast a spell on Seyardu, then when she was supposed to be unconscious she slipped something into Lady Altay's pocket. Maybe she didn't know what it would do or maybe she did." He looks over towards Seyardu, "That's enough of that please. He's unconscious and now tied up there is little he can do." He glances over towards the other noble, the Rake, "Do you know anything about what went on here today?"
Jinks has abandoned the Hymn and quit his singing, taking great care to stow his emergency knife back up his sleeve without cutting himself or damaging the fancy shirt and coat. The gnome just frowns at all the moving pieces, only half-familiar with half of the players on stage at the moment. And then people are being stomped on and a white eyebrow dances upwards in curiosity.
Aryia, finished with her inspection, whips her head over towards where she heard a crunch. She blinks, then smirks behind her mask. Despite the disapproval of some, Aryia gives a metal thumbs up for that.
She slides over to Aya, the shimmering eyes behind the mask leveled at her in a firm, appraising manner. She doesn't gesture nor hiss anything, but there is worry written all in her frame.
The rake on the other side of the room is startled to be called out, though it's clear that Cesran is addressing him and now other. The women beside him giggle at the man's surprise.
"Uh no Arch-Mage. I was expecting one of Master Swadling's regular fetes, not this."
"Then what do we do?" Seyardu asks with another low growl, and a glance to the noble behind the pillar. "Leave this scum to make his way out of jail again? Sell off more people and children to slavers, try to drive more of my people to madness? Kill any more people like he just did?"
She sighs, and steps away from the noble, releasing the polearm she was holding and putting it back away after wrapping the metal.
"How many more people are going to die or suffer because this horrible person is still alive?"
Lord Altay wakes bound, bleeding, broken, and confused. His actions not his own thanks to Cesran's spell for many odd moments. Thus he's not answering any questions for the moment. Only rolling on the ground and thrashing. Bound and unable to do any harm or good.
Lysos takes a moment to compose herself, wiping at her brow with her borrowed mask, then tossing it aside as she turns to confront the aftermath again. Since it seems like the surprise explosions are done, she approaches the gathering notables around the trussed up lord. "Huh." She knows there's alot more going on here than she's aware of. Just her luck she'd choose to crash a party that turned into a battle royale. "Suppose things would be alot easier if people could just waltz into other peoples homes and kill folks they figured needed killing."
Merek pulls up the hood of his attire, while he takes the time to begin to look at the green flame which he will light. He then offers a supplication to Eluna, his visor on and all that can be seen of him the thick stubble along his face. "That is not for Adventurers to decide. It is for the law, and if the law isn't doing well, I know someone personally we can send him to. I will make a few contacts about that, we'll get nethicite chains and security for him in that case."
Eventually, he will stand up, while he draws a sigil along in front of him, then he speaks, the words of his carry along the place, "THE GUILD IN DANGER YET YOU LOOK, THE FOUNDATION IS NOW WELL SHOOK. LORD ALTAY SHALL CHANGES BRING, AND TO THE IRON SING." Then he nods to everyone, "We have sight into the future of this world, we will use it to prevent what is to come. That which is known changes the path."
GAME: Cesran rolls wisdom: (14)+2: 16
"Then take it seriously, people have died in this room, we don't know the reason behind it." Cesran says before he turns away from the Rake to listen to the others. He pauses to think about what Merek said, "Well this is probably not going to be good for the Guild. Most likely if I'm interrupting Merek's divinations properly, Lord Altay will blame the Guild for his wife and unborn child's death. What we must do then is find out who this lady in waiting is and find out who she was really working for and why she would have a powerful magical item like that. If we find out who gave it to her, we'll probably find out the person who is orchestrating this all. I heard earlier that Lord Altay got the ingredients of from the chili cookoff from a Lord Erik? Who is this Lord Erik?"
Aya offers Cesran a simple explanation, "I believe that Lord is not a lord, but a Duke, and not of the mortal sort."
The ballroom continues to empty, several more of the guests leaving.
Master Reginal snaps his fingers at one of his servants, "Assist this man."
He's kneeling by one of the other Lords, but rising to turn to Seyardu.
The Lady who was attempting to rouse Lord Altay shrieks and backs away from him and the silver-scale, moving to help the servant that Reginald summoned.
A different one is moving towards the Rake and his small coterier, "You should leave Sir, it may not be safe." She glances at Merek's mysterious portent.
Reginald addresses Seyardu, he gestures at Cesran, "Why do you spread rumours? The Arch-Mage has understand. There are unknowns."
He looks at Aya, "A duke? What are you talking about? I've known him for years."
Aya looks to Ariya's concerned eyes and offers a hint of a smirk. "I am still myself, and not going anywhere."
"... You are kidding." Seyardu says, looking to Cesran. "Please explain to me, why anyone in their right mind would even think to listen to this noble. Please, I am struggling to understand it. Was the warehouse not enough? The colosseum? He has literally been seen carrying demonic artifacts."
Then she looks to Aya. Then she sighs. "That was one of the statues, correct? He has no one to blame but himself. Or perhaps myself, for being incapable of doing anything."
Jinks pulls at the bow to loose his lace mask, stuffing the loosely-folded fabric into an inner coat pocket as he sidles up to Reginald. "Well fought, Lord Swadling. It's unfortunate that Tran continues in his impertinence." He turns, smoothing down his goatee as he glances whither the demonicly-influenced spawn fled. "Any insight as to where your rogue offspring might be hiding? Other holdings? Favorite haunts? It might be we could intervene on your behalf and minimize any further damage Tran might do to the Swadling name."
The words of the gnome don't register on Swadling immediately, although he turns and smiles down at him, "Thank you. Glad you made it. And he does. He refuses to atone."
"I've got plenty of other sons, I don't need that scion."
Merek nods along and to Cesran with his assessment, then he's watching Seyardu while he moves to the woman, and will place a hand upon her shoulder. "Sey. We will fix the situation, you can assist. You need to keep a clear mind. Would you assist me in talking to the people still here?" he asks. Then a look to Aya and Aryia, he doesn't comment upon the Duke thing, instead he handsigns. "Are you alright?"
Aryia, at Aya's observation, huffs heavily from behind her mask. "F-r f-ck's s-k-," a muffled hiss could be heard. She nods at Aya and gives a brief pat on the arm.
From across the room, a tired set of eyes glare at Reginald, then ease at Seyardu. "I swear to fuck if this piece of trash isn't executed by the law, I'm going to be so pissed." <Handspeech>
"Pissed, but fine," Aryia answers Merek. <Handspeech>
Cesran nods to Aya as he understand the Duke comment. "I see. I've heard rumors about such things going on, but I have not been party to seeing anything myself." He looks to Seyardu, "I trust you Seyardu, you were there and I was not. You have proven yourself to be a loyal and faithful companion. I trust your word over Lord Altay's, but I want to find out the truth of what's going on. Maybe there is no Lord Erik, or perhaps that is Lord Altay's demonic contact. I am not saying that Lord Altay is innocent. Quite the opposite, he's most likely a co-conspiritator. We need him alive to hopefully answer questions. That is why I used a non-lethal spell on him."
Cesran turns to Lord Swadling, "Lord Swadling, I'm sorry that your party was ruined and I'm sorry I came here in disguise. I was hoping to root out any trouble without ruining your party. You're scion looked like he was half-demon, perhaps there is a connection here as I'm sure he was not born that way. Someone probably the same person that Lord Altay is in league with is probably using your son. I understand you disowned him for his actions and rightly so, no son should ever attack their father, but I'm sure there was someone whispering poison into his ear to make him turn on you like this. Please help us with Lord Altay and help us find out what's going on here."
Having not much useful to add, Lysos just does her best to return to keep up. She hasn't forgotten she wasn't exactly invited here, after all. Though she is at least adept enough at reading a room to recognize how dangerous some of the tension between some of the players here have gotten. "When you enter another's wagon, you take your shoes off. And when somthing stinks.. following the smell is better than covering it up." She turns her attention to Jinks and Reginald as well.
"I don't mean to imply the lord needs this particular son in his house." Jinks counters, glancing back and forth as various sources gesticulate or speak. "Rather that Tran could be dealt with by a helpful party--" the gnome smooths down the front of his very nice coat-- "instead of being left to run unchecked instigating... Rumors." He raises his eyebrows subtly, leaning closer and heavily emphasizing the last word. Nobles hate rumors. When Cesran makes a supporting suggesting he gestures towards the wizard with an open hand, palm up. The gnome and faux-gnome are of a similar mind.
GAME: Cesran rolls diplomacy: (19)+0: 19 (Aid Another - Jinks) GAME: Jinks rolls Diplomacy: (3)+11+2: 16 <OOC> Jinks says, "If you'll let me sorry late butt have one, sure!" GAME: Jinks rolls Diplomacy: (14)+11: 25
Those other sons show up.
Someone must have run for them. Come to think of it, Djusco vanished when Tran appeared in the ballroom. He reappears now with his other brothers in tow. One of them, who is startlingly similar to the eldest in appearance, if a little younger and not as muscular ask, "Is what Djusco said true? Tran challenged you?"
"Priori, you are now my heir. Fetch the guard." Reginald immediately issues orders to his offspring. "Miska, help the guests leave. Fezel, search Trans room, for a statue. Ask them." He indicates Aya and Seyardu, "they know what you must seek."
Priori and Fezel bow, "Yes Father!" They leave immediately. Miska moves to assist the remaining guests.
Reginald watches with satisfaction, then turns to face Cesran, "Yes. Some infernal influence has seduced my son. Lord Altay must have been as well."
"Djusco, assist the servants."
Reginald faces the adventurers, "Stay. The little man is right. This has cost me a son, and Altay a wife and child. My plan wasn't fast enough. Once the guards arrive for Lord Altay, we can talk. Until then, have some food. My blood must cool."
OOC & Combatty
editable map
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mnjumjcfjb0&secret=s5e3a4hijpf
map
Cryosanthia says, "Map! https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mnjumjcfjb0
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Green is party, blue is unaligned, brown is Altay and Swadling."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Dresses are servants, wine glasses are the Lords, Martini glasses are the Ladies."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Green: Hood is Aya, Fist is Aryia, Leia-Dragon is Seyardu, Staff is Cesran-gnome, Clover is Lysos"
<OOC> Zeke says, "Cryo, would you mind moving Lady Altay to Seyardu please? Her Lady-in-waiting also"
[RPOne] Aryia says, "oml that large dress guest"
<OOC> Lysos says, "Hahahaha"
<OOC> Lysos says, "I can't stop laughing."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Oh, Terrain effect, Pillars are like trees, you have a +2AC if you are beside one."
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
19 Seyardu 1
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17 Cesran 1
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17 Lysos 1
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13 Jinks 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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13 Tran 1
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12 Guests Servants 1
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11 Aya 7
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>> 11 Aryia 6 <<
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6 Merek 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds remaining)
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4 The Altays
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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 | 54 | 54 |21/16/20 | 28 | 8 | 11 | 7 |
|Aya |SHADOW_ELF|Mnk | 247 | 247 |36/30/31 | 54 | 22 | 22 | 17 |
|Cesran |HUMAN |Wiz | 154 | 154 |20/15/20 | 29 | 16 | 18 | 21 |
|Jinks |GNOME |Bard | 34 | 34 |18/15/14 | 16 | 3 | 7 | 4 |
|Lysos |HUMAN |Sor | 33 | 33 |13/10/13 | 20 | 3 | 5 | 6 |
|Merek |HUMAN |Clr/MTh/Sor| 104 | 104 |19/15/18 | 28 | 13 | 12 | 19 |
|Seyardu |SITH-MAKAR|Clr | 67 | 67 |19/19/10 | 17 | 9 | 2 | 8 |
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