The Real eState of Things
Log Info
- Title: The Real eState of Things
- Emitter: Jinks
- Characters: Aelwyn, Jay, Khepri, Nemori, Slixvah
- Place: Lower Markets Residential
- Time: July 10th, 2022
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Players =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aelwyn 8m 5'3" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Male
Runt of a Dragoon.
Khepri 4m 6'10" 300 Lb War Golem Male
A tall, gangly war-golem draped in religious charms
Nemori 3m 4'10" 110 Lb Mul'niessa Female
A tall and slender, dark skinned elf.
Slixvah 0s 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk Female
A rust red and white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls.
Jay 23m 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male
A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks 4m 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male
A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's midday on Eliday and the oppressive moisture maintains its balmy grasp of the city. The gardens are a welcome reprieve-- mild and temperate as they always are-- but if you were there recently you've left it behind for the stone streets and scattered, half-planned layouts of the nearby residential district. The mist crawls by as slow as it is inexorable and careful consideration may have you thinking its headed for the docks and coast to the south.
While construction is mismatched and moderately haphazzard in its placement, the blocks are well-built and properly-maintained. These are no slums.
A circular crossroads hosts a well at its center, the curious centerpiece affixed with some arcane manner of plumbing artifice that's likely responsible for keeping the water potable. The streets stretch on in four cardinal directions.
At the northwest edge of the circle a stage of sorts has been setup; a low platform hosting two Acanians in similar, fine attire. With black hair and grey-eyes, both, the pair are likely twins and almost assuredly brother and sister. Their attire is smart and tailormade for their tall, slight builds-- builds accentuated by the plum pinstripes of their black suit and dress. White lace accentuates cuffs, hems, and ties.
Sitting at a small desk beneath their impromptu dais is an officious-looking gnome with small, half-frame glasses working with quill and ink in a tome almost as big as he is. A sign next to the gnome reads "LOST HOME AND LANDS PURCHASED/MORTGAGED" in the common tongue, Yrchspeak, Halfling, Khazdul, and Gnomish.
A small handful of refugees linger nearby. One woman wrings a handkerchief as she bends low and speaks with the gnome.
No matter the weather or the changing whims of fortune, life and death go on. And so, of course, does Khepri. The tall, lean war golem comes pacing down towards the circle, the jingle of scarab charms around its neck tinkling almost merrily, a bizarre counterpoint to its grim, beak-faced facade. Its heavy khopesh rides on a sheath on its belt, the bells which adorned its pommel now absent. The soft creak of leather and the clink of metal, pausing near the well as one passer-by -- a man of somewhat dour expression, dressed in mourning clothes -- approaches it.
The two speak in soft words, and the war golem lightly places a hand on the man's shoulder before removing a scarab charm and placing it in the man's hand. A blessing, before sending the fellow on his way. Then those sulfur-yellow eyes find the dais, and the sign, and the head tilts quizzically.
A human woman with rusty red hair with white streaks is taking a stroll through the gardens to beat the heat, her hands in the pockets of her shorts and the sleeves of her robes rolled up.
She slows as she leaves, dreading the oncoming heat before she presses on. Where her destination is, no one knows. But she does give pause to look at this... ensemble erected in the intersection. Tottally-not-Slixvah leans over to a nearby refugee. "Whuzzall this?"
By per chance, and by interest seeing Khepri, a ruddy scaled Dragoon meanders closer, with an empty rucksack over his shoulder. His scales were glistening with the moisture, but the loincloth clad Aelwyn found very little to complain about the wather. As long as he was far away from the sewers.
"Scales." The draconian greets Khepri. "What are we bartering for here?" He also tilts his head as he lays his polearm against his shoulder; a chewing stick appears between his teeth.
The dirty scamp looks up at Slixvah, wide-eyed and distracted from waiting for his mother chatting with the gnome. "Mom's gettin' some monies," he sniffs and points at the worried woman now signing into the gnome's book.
As if to better answer the curious looks, the gentleman on the stage clears his throat and speaks up: "-- swaths of the countryside already lost to the undead scourge," the man answers a curious Khazadi man in overalls, holding his hands out towards the crowd expressively. "Likely never to be retrieved in our lifetimes."
"And you poor, poor things left to wallow in squalor, depending on the charity of Alexandrians already struggling in their day-to-day," the woman adds, her expression mournful as a crocodile.
"But we have a saying in Alexandria: 'a Griphiths is always flush!'" The man recites with a winning smile, taking a step forward and holding up a finger. "We can weather this time of uncertainty and financial turmoil; we'll buy your home and lands for a fair price-- or hold title for a little less--"
"Affording you every opportunity to purchase it back if the problems settle," his sister nods, placing her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Of course."
"Of course," the man smiles.
The refugee woman gets a rather small-looking coinpurse handed to her by the gnome.
Khepri turns its head to regard Aelwyn. "I am uncertain," it says in its hollow tenor. "But it appears they are offering money for properties that had to be abandoned due to the evacuations." The yellow eyes glow. "However, I was informed that any such arrangements had to be certified with crown authorities, to prevent fraud and profiteering." The golem pauses, looking thoughtful.
Then it begins to stalk towards the trio, feet clanking on the cobbles, the prayer strips glued to its pauldrons fluttering with its passage as the construct approaches.
Not Slix purses her lips and tilts her head to the side as she watches and listens. And frowns deeply. "Sounds like a load of barnacles..." she murmurs off to the side before giving a nod to the kid and joining the golem in approaching the stand. Hands in her pockets.
Aelwyn keeps chewing on his stick. "A good barter." Then moment later, he nods towards the two on stage. "For them." Chew, chew, chew, and he picks up his polearm as he follows the golem towards the stage.
"... what is wrong with bartering for profit?" The draconian asks with a tilt of his head. With the new face joining the golem, he looks towards Not-Slix and flicks his tongue air - eventually, he nods his head. "Pockets."
Nemori didn't mean to be here. Though her time as a resident in the city can now be counted in months, it is rare that she wanders. Even rarer that she wanders in this area. One might almost believe it was some form of luck or fortune that brought here here to this place, this time. Not that the elf truly believes in such, no matter how fortune seems to bend to a certain aquaintance of her's whim.
Still, she's here, and as little as she may care about the plight of the refugees, neither does she wish to celebrate ignorance. Besides, this sounds like something her blue-feathered egalrin friend might be interested in knowing about. So she adjust her path just enough to circle around the gathering, unwashed peasants to get a better look, and hear, of the proceedings going on. Of the grift, perhaps.
The Khazadi man grunts in disgust, working a wad around in his mouth and spitting at the base of the dais before hooking his thumbs into his patched attire and stomping off. He growls something more politely rephrased as 'lousy cityborn nobles.'
The duo don't miss a beat, however, and find instead a half-dozen Lucht huddled close togheter. The halflings have an odd handful of newer clothing items-- some clearly sized for tallfolk-- and the oldest woman of the group carries a bundle clearly gifted by the Soldier's Defense. A salt-and-pepper patron carries a sleeping babe and a trio of lanky youths gawp up at the fast-talking Acanians.
"Why let your children go hungry, sir?" The woman wonders, leaning forward with her hands on her dress over her knees. "Your home is likely in ruins and crawling with the risen wights of Lost Dragonier."
"An entire oruch tribe was lost!" The man offers, incredulous. He holds up a hand with pointer- and rinfinger in a V. "Two survivors! Two! Proud warriors cut down by the swarm. An airship of mercenaries brought only a pair back. How do you think your homestead sits, sir?"
"And your poor children look like they could use a good meal, miss," the sister sighs, causing the mother-and-father pair to exchange a look. "Hot food. Cooked meats. Not stale bread and mouldy cheeses..."
Her deal done, the other refugee woman leaves the gnome's table and drops the coinpurse into the front of her shirt. She glances at Khepri and Slixvah before looking down at the ground and passing. She takes up her son's hand and they head off to the west.
A gobber and another gnome in traveling clothes lean against each other, arm-in-arm. They mutter back and forth, deep in debate. The gobber rests his hand on the gnomes stomach and offers a pleading look. The gnome grimaces and takes the gobber's wrist, frowning severely and shaking his head.
Khepri steps up to the table, dispassionately sizing up both the moneychanger, and his erstwhile employers. In its flat, affectless voice, the golem states, "The temples provide. In the meantime; please present your licenses to purchase and lay claim to land within the kingdom."
Khepri's tone has all the easy charm and affinity of a court summons, and the inexorable nature befitting one of the Harpist's chosen. In fact, it looks perfectly content to stand here all day, being an inconvenience.
GAME: Khepri rolls perception: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Khepri rolls sense motive: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (6)+11+2: 19 GAME: Slixvah rolls sense motive+2: (19)+3+2: 24 GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Aelwyn rolls sense motive: (1)+1: 2 (EPIC FAIL)
Pockets glances over to Aelwyn on the approach, and she mutters to him in a familiar hissing tongue, "Profit is good and all, but not when you're profiting off of misfortune." <Draconic>
She takes a moment to listen to the pandering before stepping out from behind Khepri, peeking around him as if she's in line. "Yeah, I wanna make sure I'm sellin' my grand-gran-grand-gran-gran-gran pappy's ta real good'un folks that'd be good on they word. Like my pappy said, 'Grim gram knows to know who's nose is known, but ya can't know wit' no nose,'" she blathers.
Aelwyn tilts his head, and a bit surprised at the familiar tongue. "Still, a fortune for some. Sometimes it flies the other - sometimes it gathers in one place." He follows straight up after the golem, chewing on his stick. He hadn't had the chance to take a look at those ribbons and strips hanging off government-bot.
It took all off the willpower from the beribboned and horned sith-makar to resist touching Khepri's ribbons. Maybe just a little. The chewing stick quietly snaps.
Nemori finishes her approach, coming up near Khepri and Aelwyn, recognized aquaintances. She either doesn't know of this current guise of Slixvah, or is feigning ignorance.. either way, she settles in next to the trio, folding her arms and getting a sense on how these people she know feel upon the subject. "It does seem a touch like preying upon the misfortunate. Even so... if one cannot survive to reclaim lands lost to them, then what good does it do for them today?"
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Nemori rolls perception: (19)+9: 28 GAME: Nemori rolls sense motive: (14)+3: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff: aliased to bluff+3: (20)+5+3: 28
The gnome doesn't even look up at Khepri, leaving the golem to consider the sheen of his bald pate and the immaculate crown of snowy white hair. He instead lifts the front cover of his open tome and slides a writ out far enough to be considered. It's stamped and sealed and certainly looks official. Then he also raises his left fist to display a signet ring: a tilted hourglass encircled by a wreath.
Both the brother and sister ignore the looming newcomers and maintain their focus on the uprooted Lucht family, smiling in perfect reflection of each other. The father sighs heavily, kisses the cheek of the babe her carries, and looks at his eldest daughter in a coat that looks fit to swallow her whole. He moves towards the gnome at the table-- but pulls up short as Slixvah begins her fast talk.
The duo on stage exchange hungry looks and the woman takes a step towards Slixvah and the halfling man. "Please be patient. Our coffers are deep enough for everyone..."
"Do you hold title? How much land? What's on the land? We require specifics," the gnome explains for the disguised egalrin rambles. He seems to lack the enthusiasm of the human pair; more interested in the execution of things.
The gnome-and-gobber pair take a step back as things begin to get congested.
Khepri is unaware of Aelwyn staring at its prayer seals with such fascination, instead making an odd metallic sound. The equivalent of clearing one's throat. The gnome may be focused on his job, but Khepri has the patience of stone and metal. "May I -see- the writ?" it says with a touch of asperity in its voice. The golem doesn't shift or twitch nervously, though the head tilts ever so slightly as Slixvah rolls the proverbial fertilizer wagon up and starts manuring the fields. Always interesting to see an expert at work.
The rural dame steps aside to further elaborate her land situation as Khepri is free to examine the writ. She inhales.
Oh no.
"Aight so like m'pappy's pappy's pappy gave me like twenty-odd acres ta take care off, since I took good care of 'em and all m'brothers and sisters ran off ta do what eva, I stayed as long as I could but-"
She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "Th' damn wights busted through th' smithy, took one of my pappy's swords outta the store house from the otha' ones ta keep me safe, but I 'ad ta run through m'family's mines... gods I was so scared..."
Totally not Slix shudders. "But m'pappy made a metal golem thingy, real big! Keeps th' place safe! I sure hope it's still there. That's obviously worth lots of gold! Like... thirty! Er... what's after thirty... thirty two!" she elucidates, glancing off to the side at a figure leaning against the wall a ways away before turning back. "... m-m'pappy's pappy, the other one, said somethin' somethin' 'bout in-ter-est wit' stuff... if... if I wanna but it back when this all blows ova.. how much is it?" She flutters her teary eyes.
Just like a picnic draws wasps, street negotiations draw lawyers, especially the suspect kind. A black, white, and blue jay eglarin arrives in a flap with a flapping of wings. Landing in a flurry of feathers beside the Lady Nemori.
She was right, he would be interested.
Whatever happened to those hell-spawn, spying wasps anyhow?
A matter for another time, the l-eagal egalrin introduces himself. "Hi! Hi! Hi! Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, at your service. The 'C' is for convenient. I heard there were contracts being negotiated. Is anyone in need of a notary? Council, a solicitor?"
His head whips about, point to point in the avian way, "Oh Hi Khepri. The Lady Nemori." With amazing adroitness, he whips his briefcase up to waist high, flips it open and turns it a small writing desk. How very like a corvid. He bobs behind it.
Aelwyn's fingers move up and idly touches just one of the ribbons. Then when the verbal salad begins - he turns his head towards Nemori and after a moment, adopts a posture that he is serving as some sort of guard to Khepri. All along with the stiff posture and the dead, passive look in his eyes.
In reality, Aelwyn was trying to block off Not-Slix's verbiage. "This transaction confuses me." The Dragoon quietly admits to Nemori. Jay's appearance gets a very stiff looking nod from him.
Nemori takes a half step to the side. Not that Jay was in any danger of bumping into her, of course. Certainly not that. She squints her eyes at him for a moment, then just shakes her head. "And here I thought I would have an interesting story to tell you later," she says with mock-disappointment, all the while trying to filter the human woman's spin... her eyes narrow further, her attention shifting from the blue egalrin to the red headed woman. Suspicious. Before she can put her finger on it, however, Aelwyn's under-breath confession gets her attention.. and a moment later hse nods in agreement. "It reminds me of the underclass at home."
Nemori makes a sour expression at her sour reminder of a buried past, and she turns to find something else interesting. Her gaze settles upon a patch of shadows near one of the houses, and her narrowed eyes return to normal, one brow arching in sudden interest.
"You see with your eyes." The gnome answers Khepri, dropping a crooked finger down on paperwork that does, in fact, look incredibly official. "I--" and then Slixvah is talking.
The gnome's expression goes from businesslike to exhausted with surprising (and ironic!) alacrity. His pink-flecked-gold eyes stare unblinking over the top of his corrective lenses. The point of his quill hovers over its well. Once or twice he raises his hand to slow down the altered artful dodger but ultimately issues the heaviest of sighs and lets the rant go on.
The mother and father halflings blink, stunned, and the three ambulatory children begin to giggle or clap. The gobber at the back coughs.
"If you have such... thorough concerns perhaps we can arrange a private meeting?" Suggests the brother. He's at the edge of the stage now and looking down at Slixvah like a guardsmen called to inspect a suspicious ticking noise only to find goblin artifice wired into ten kegs of blackpowder.
"A private meeting! Brilliant!" Claps the sister.
"... Truefeather," the gnome drawls. Ice cold and drawn out. The '...my nemesis!' part needs not be spoken.
And then the world erupts in an ear-piercing clatter as a magical alarm explodes into the ears of all present.
The degree of surprise varies through the crowd. Some saw the dwarf beforehand lurking in the shadows. Some watched him skulk ahead and make to snatch up the cashbox on the gnome's table. Most saw him wander off and thought him gone.
Nobody expected the Alarm spell. Especially not the Khazadi man in overalls, his bulging brown-eyes fit to fall out of his head!
The keen of the magical alarm draws the attentions of guards! A nearby house vomits out a curious, four-legged clockwork construct. One of its short, cylindrical arms goes *PAFF!* and shoots a net over the shocked Khazadi man in overalls.
He didn't even get a chance to run!
<OOC> Slixvah says, "im gonna... fortune the dwarf"
Not Slixvah perks up, her grinning with a teary eye. "Oh really! Yeahyeahyeahyeah we can absolutely do tha'. Private meetin' where ya wanna-"
The sudden alarm makes her flinch, hands pressed against her 'ears' (thankfully they're in the same spot). She shakes her head, quickly taking stock of the situation. Captured thief. Stealing from...
Eh, fuck these guys.
"Oh nooooOOooOooO!" she puts a hand over her mouth. "Get 'im! That's my future monies! I sure hope he can't get out!"
She had her fingers crossed behind her back the whole time.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (16)+4: 20 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (13)+4: 17
"Drat'n confounded fuckin' shitebird gobber-crafted..!" The Khazadi shimmies and pulls at the netting around him with one thick arm while the other holds the clattering cashbox into his armpit. One of his overall straps has come loose and a hairy dwarven teet stares accusingly at the THING holding onto him.
"Up yer crappin' bolthole y'tin blatherskitin'--" the rambling continues.
"That indecent creature is breaking the law!" The sister challenges, raising a dainty and collapsed umbrella to point at the Khazadi man, shielding her view from his exposed chest.
"Guards! Guards!" The brother calls, cupping his hands to his mouth. "We are trying to provide a service! PROTECT US!"
GAME: Jay rolls sense motive: (13)+10: 23
His name is called, his head is drawn. Jay looks the gnome's way. Recognition dawns. "You! You always go on break when I show up, and for some reason my filings always have a date three days later when you're involved."
"What are you doing outside? Working on the weekend. Outside!" Integrity makes a point of casting a little shade with an upraised wing, then sheltering in it."
This friendly interchange is interrupted by the loud alarm. Jay squawks, "Hey! Your cash is being stolen."
He whips around, his silvery hunting bolas appearing in his hand. In time to see the dwarf captured by the spider construct. "Hey! Your alleged thief has been caught, allegedly."
Integrity is twirling the weapon in a holding pattern, ready to throw. He calls out to the dwarf, "Did I mention I'm a lawyer? In case anyone needs one. I work cheap. Cheap! Here's some free advice, running usually damages your case."
GAME: Jay rolls bab+dexterity+1: (1)+3+4+1: 9 (EPIC FAIL)
"Hey wait! I said don't run!" Jay flings the bolas off circle, bapping himself in the back of the head, then choking as it wraps around his throat. "I'm okay..." he chokes, as the weapon falls at his feet.
GAME: Nemori spends ONE use of BIT OF LUCK.
Nemori winces a little bit as Jay's bolas fly... wide. As little stake as she has in this sudden eruption of activity, and as little as she can determine who is the worse villain here.. and as little as she cares who the worse villain is here.. she does have some vested self interest in seeing Jay succeed. So she reaches over to lighty touch him on the shoulder. As some of Ceinara's fortune drifts into the egalrin, she tells him, "Try again."
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (14)+4: 18 GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/arcana: (2)+11: 13 GAME: Khepri rolls knowledge/arcana: (15)+7: 22 <OOC> Khepri says, "Add 3 if this is a Monster Lore question :)" GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (2)+13: 15 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+11: (18)+11: 29
A second spindly-legged clockwork construct arrives from a second door, poised to stop a thief heading down the northern street. Its drawn to the sound of the alarm, dome-like body spinning as it clanks across the cobbles. Much like the first, it points a stubby arm and *PAFF* a net is fire to once again snare the shouting thief of a dwarf.
Then, moving much more rapidly, a construct in rough approximation of a dog bursts from behind the first contraption. Going ti-tink ti-tink in long strides if finds the blaring chest and bares jagged metal teeth. The Khazadi's voice goes up two full octaves as he falls under the attacker and blood sprays into the air.
The cashbox goes bouncing away and into the alley.
<OOC> Khepri says, "Swift action to activate destruction judgement." GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (16)+13: 29 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Khepri rolls weapon1: (7)+5: 12 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+11: (13)+11: 24
Well, that was efficient. Khepri reaches down to unsheath its khopesh, drawing it as it pushes past the gnome. "Do not attempt to resist. You have been injured and the watch will be here shortly. Submit to the judgement of--" And that's when the clockwork hound lashes out at the golem, nailing it right in the knee. There's a startled sound as Khepri's reflexive strike goes wide, and the inquisitor hits the ground with a crash.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1: (17)+4: 21 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage1: aliased to 1d10+3: (7)+3: 10
Alarms. Shouting. Dwarf-nipple flashing. It was all coming back to him in a flash. Chases, heists. Guards coming out of everywhere to trap the scoundrels. And a sith-makar in the middle of it all. Aelwyn hoists up his glaive and starts quickly step towards the would-be-thief. "Stop!" He shouts with a loud snarl. "There will be casualties!" The glaive raises up and high above.
The bladed tip smacks down hard onto the machine beast that just bit Khepri. The thief barely gets a glance from the Dragoon.
<OOC> Slixvah says, "in this chaos, I am going to use the apprentice cheating gloves to cast prestigitiation" GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff: aliased to bluff+3: (9)+5+3: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+7: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+3: (3)+3: 6 <OOC> Jinks says, "Actually, I'll give you a bump for the chaos. You're safe."
Slixvah sees all this madness going on, the crazy machines, the dwarf that nearly got away. The money box. She squints some, cutting through it, spying the book on the table.
A lovely rust red eglarin woman flashes through her mind's eye, her chirping in a coo, 'Remember honey, sometimes a nudge is all it takes to make a whole mountain fall down.'
The not-Slix woman flails backwards in the chaos. "Ayy what the pumpernickel is-"
Thumb to middle finger. "-going on-"
Twist pinky to index. "-they gonna kill 'im!" Finger snap. Complete.
The writ's ink swells and runs, soiled and dirty. Hopefully no one spied the underpinnings of the spell.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23
"--it's eatin' me! Aaaagh! Help! It took my-- oh gods what's a fuckin' Khazad wi' one nipple!?" He's flopping around on the ground and pulling at the second net. He manages (somehow!) to escape as blood continues to stain his attire and smear across his tanned flesh. "Get this murderous golem'a dwarf killin' away from me..!"
The finely-dressed man on the stage has gone pale-faced and aghast at the spray of Khazadi blood. He half-covers his mouth and looks ready to faint.
"Heel! Down! Stop!" The woman shouts, slapping at the air. "Capture! Not kill! What's wrong with you!?" Her tone has lost all sense of composure as she tries to call back the construct guard.
GAME: Jay rolls cmb: (20)+4: 24
"Waaait!" Jay lunges, leaping forward and nearly going prone himself as he reaches for the dwarf and expertly snags the dwarf's ankle from around the building. It's like grabbing a brick, something heavy and immobile. "I uh... I uh don't know the answer to that."
"Nice doggie," he attempts at the construct. It could work.
GAME: Nemori spends ONE use of CHANNEL ENERGY. GAME: Nemori rolls 3d6: (16): 16
"Integrity, wait.." Nemori says, hand reaching in a half-hearted attempt to grab the egalrin's shoulder.. and failing to do so. She sighs. Then she casts a dark look at the well dressed siblings up on the stage and their utter lack of effectiveness in controlling what is revealed as their own precautions. She rolls her eyes at them, then takes hold of her holy token.. takes a deep breath to prepare herself for unpleasantness.. then draws healing power within herself and releases it. A wave of rejuvination washes over everyone nearby.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (8)+13: 21 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (19)+13: 32 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+6: (4)+6: 10 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+6: (1)+6: 7
The clockwork servants maintain their perimeter. The second scans the crowd as they look on in horror and the mechanical sounds of its insides rearranging join the ratchet and clatter of normal operation. There's another *PAFF* and the next net flies towards the prone dwarf. It fails to open in time and bounces off his chest, harmlessly.
Whatever blessing that might prove for the dwarf iis short-lived. The hound issues a close facsimile of a growl and sits into him. The would-be thief's high-pitched scream is choked by a wet gurgle as his arms fall limp to the cobblestones.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (4)+13: 17 GAME: Khepri casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14 GAME: Khepri rolls 1d8+3: (2)+3: 5
Khepri is most irritated with this situation. Even with Nemori's wave of healing energy mending the damage to its frame, it's rapidly spiraling out of control. "Call off your constructs or they will be destroyed," the war golem states unequivocally. It rises to its feet, and when the hound lunges at it, it's met with Khepri's shield, eliciting a loud, bell-like GONG as it bounces off.
"Harpist, please delay this one's entry to the Halls a little longer," the golem invokes, reaching down to place its hand on the dwarf's chest. Healing energy flows into the prone thief, keeping him from dying a little longer at least.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+4-4: (4)+4+-4: 4 GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1: (5)+4: 9
"Can anyone distract the guard dog?" Aelwyn calls out, as he peels back his weapon and prepares for another attack. Launching it sideways, he goes for a belly rub - but his sweeping motion goes wide, and he hisses in annoyance as he takes his spear back.
GAME: Slixvah rolls cmb: (18)+2: 20
Not Slixvah calls out to Aelwyn, "I gotcha, Flutter!" She runs forward, swishing a hand at the real estate agents to get out of the way. "Move it city-folk! Yer in a th' way!"
She reaches out, getting a good grip on the machine and puuuuuuuuuulls!
Weird, grating sound of shoes scrape against the street. Shoes don't make that noise. "Aw, hell," she spits, pulling out a dagger. "Gimmie my monies!"
"... I saw me father there... 'n me mother'n sisters..." the Khazadi man coughs and curls into a tight ball, covering up his head and back of his neck as best as he can.
The pair on the dais stare on, the brother finally finding his voice again. "Cease--! You--" he points a gloved hand at the two smaller clockworks, waving and stabbing through the air at the hound. "Disable it! Turn it off! N-now! Go!"
"Yes, that!" The woman shouts, hurling her umbrella to bounce off the second servant. "Unwind it! Turn it off!"
GAME: Jay rolls disable device: (9)+11: 20 GAME: Jay rolls 1d4: (4): 4
"Stay! You, not the dog." Integrity tells the dwarf, releasing his ankle and turning on the construct canine. Just for good measure, he tells it too, "You stay also."
He leans and reaches in, finding a loose plate that Aelwyn's earlier impact knocked askew. Ignoring all safety procedures, Jay reaches inside the construct and feels around. He finds a winding gear, "Is this it? I think this is it." Some twisting, some pulling, and there's a whrrrrr noise. The gears unwind a degree.
It's unclear how effective it is, but it's something.
<OOC> Nemori says, "convert a spell to CMW, and apply reach to it." GAME: Nemori casts Invisibility Purge. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Nemori rolls 2d8+5: (12)+5: 17
Nemori doesn't know how other people feel about this situation. Probably vexxed. Or alarmed. Frantic? Maybe. She's actually getting a little bit of amusement from it. Watching the dwarf conscious and alive, then dying and bleeding out... then conscious and alive, and then bleeding out... it tugs at her memories. It probably isn't good for her present course choice to be dwelling too much on that.. but hey, a little indulgence doesn't hurt, right? (says every addict ever.) She reaches out, channeling more healing into the dwarf, privately looking forward to seeing the dog maul him again.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (14)+13: 27 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8 GAME: Khepri rolls weapon1+2: (19)+5+2: 26 (THREAT) GAME: Khepri rolls weapon1+2: (9)+5+2: 16 GAME: Khepri rolls 1d8+4: (8)+4: 12
Khepri begins speaking, loudly enough to be heard. "It is a clockwork construct. It is resistant to most weapons, but not immune. They are vulnerable to electrical damage. I recommend the latter, if you have it." Smoothly, the khopesh comes up, the heavy curved blade glinting, before Khepri's arm comes down and slams it hard into the hound's flank. "Oh dear. I seem to be in cohorts with this thief. You should attack me, mindless clockwork toy."
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1: (13)+4: 17 <OOC> Aelwyn says, "... +2." GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage1: aliased to 1d10+3: (8)+3: 11
The servant bobs to one side and then the other in response to the calls from the pair on the stage. It extends a long, telescoping limb that bends its way into the flank of the hound. There's a another sound similar to the one produced by Jay's actions-- only less dramatic. There's the sound of its netlauncher reloading once more.
"Swarm them, birds!" Aelwyn encourages, as he keeps his spear at bay for a time, waiting for his moment. When Khepri's arm comes down with the khopri; the glaive soon follows, smacking the hound on the other side. "Grab the cash box, maybe set off the alarm again, Scales." The draconian suggests with a toothy grin.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (1): 1 <OOC> Slixvah says, "fortune khepri"
Not Slixvah huffs as things are getting congested. She turns towards the person thwacking things with an unbrella. "Oi! Didn' ya listen ta me ya daft buffoon? Move your prissy ass! Ya in th' way!" she yells at them.
Meanwhile, the knife in her hand does rocking, sawing motions in the air.
It cuts something from a sudden jerk. The golem Executor's threads of fate have been shorn for the very near future to weave his own way.
GAME: Jay rolls disable device: (5)+11: 16 GAME: Jay rolls 1d4: (2): 2
"That didn't work. Ah.. ah... hold still doggy." Jay is unable to get at a panel this time, hand slipping across its back, "I'll get it, just a moment."
The gnome lawyer just blinks at Slixvah, legs drawn up in his chair with his big book clutched in front of him. He's trembling visible and his glasses are hanging from one ear. He doesn't have his wits about him enough to follow her request!
The Khazad-aul seems content to stay where he is. Whether that's because of Jay's warning or because he's just so piss-scared he can't bring himself to try and stand to run is anyone's guess. The pudgy, bloody thing just curls up tighter as the melee continues.
The two smartly-dressed humans are shouting ineffectively, trying to spur the constructs into faster action.
GAME: Nemori casts Spiritual Weapon. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15 GAME: Nemori rolls spiritual weapon: aliased to cleric+wisdom: (9)+5+3: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d4: (2): 2
Nemori hides her disappointment that the dwarf is still conscious this time around, then has enough decency to look a little bit guilty. Her attention shifts to the dog, and this time she forms divine magic with words and gestures into the form of a floating, transluscent rapier which proceeds to engage the clockwork canine with the others.
The second servant is close enough to set its master's plan into action, extending its own telescoping arm to work on the hound.
The hound, moving sluggishly now, can't quite manage to find Khepri. It snaps at the empty air twice, its movements jerky a something internal begins to grind.
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+13: (2)+13: 15 GAME: Khepri rolls weapon1+2: (12)+5+2: 19 GAME: Khepri rolls weapon1+2: (3)+5+2: 10 GAME: Khepri rolls 1d8+4: (3)+4: 7
Khepri brings its shield in front of it as the hound lunges again, and once again there's the musical tones of an aggressive clockwork bouncing off a steel plate. Almost charming, in a way. Khepri intones, "It appears I was successful. Continue your attack." Khepri does a little lean to the side, bringing its khopesh up, and scores another dent in the machine.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1+2: (19)+4+2: 25 GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage1: aliased to 1d10+3: (7)+3: 10
Aelwyn breathes in, watching as everyone swarms around the clockwork hound. He was getting up on his clawed toes, falling onto a dance step of sorts - and then suddenly he lunges forward with his glaive, cutting into the hound's armor plate. There's an endless satisfaction on his face when the machine finally seems to slow down. "Bite on that." The draconian grins and slides another chewing stick between his teeth.
A tense hush falls over the crowd as the clockwork hound jitters to a stuttering halt. It turns its head, opening its mouth to snap at Aelwyn but ultimately freezes in place like some forge-wrought statue.
The Khazadi man is crying and shaking in his little ball.
The gnome takes the cessation of hostilities to quite his chair and run to the far side of the low stage.
The twinned humans seemed more than a little relived that the dwarf is still breathing. The pair issue a sigh in unison and step down from the stage; the brother first and then he takes his sister's hand to help her down whilst she manages her skirts.
"The... the poor dear," the sister manages when she finally finds her voice.
"This is why we offer our services, sir," the brother speaks up, clearing his throat. "So... so it doesn't come to this." He tries to smile but it's just a grimace.
The two clockwork servants spin their upright-cylinder torsos this way and that, scanning the crowd again for signs of things what need netting. Then they shift idly.
There's also the distant, piercing tweet of a Watch whistle answering the Alarm and repeated call for succor. They'll likely be here shortly, too.
"Well that was entertaining," Nemoris says at last, dismissing her summoned weapon and pocketting her token. "I think I shall leave the boring part to the rest of you." Disguised Slixvah gets another suspicious glance, but then the shadow elf straightens her hat... reconsiders, settles it slightly askew, then turns and walks away.
Khepri shoves its khopesh back into the sheath almost irritably, turning to stare very hard at the twin humans. Carefully, it steps past the trembling dwarf, picking up the lockbox, and returning it. "Theft of property is not allowed in Alexandria. However, the Watch may have questions regarding your use of clockwork servitors. I will remain to give a statement, in the meantime."
The Executor moves to stand next to the dwarf, waiting patiently.
Not Slixvah sighs in relief as she lets her arms hang limp to the sides, her looking up to the sky with a heavy sigh. Things were alright.
The brother speaks up. An eye twitches. She turns right around and jabs a finger at the showmen. "Oi! These are yer pets, and my gran-gran tol' me tha' if they talk th' talk, they betta walk th' walk. And all I saw wa' how incom-pee-tent ya'lls was! If ya ain't reliable now, 'ow ya'll gonna be reliable when I try t'buy mai family's gold mine back!" she accuses, huffing and putting her knife away.
She shares a glance with Nemori.
There's a wink.
And she huffs with her hands in her pockets. "Ya, this ain't worth it boys and girls. I'm out."
She strolls on past the refugees, shaking her head.
Jay stands, glancing at Khepri with a curious, unexplained glance. He gathers his bolas, returning them to their place on his belt. Brushing off his feathers, he returns to his briefcase tablestand.
The red-headed lucht has escaped his notice for now.
"Sooooooo..." He glances at the Dwarf, "to translate what the golem said, you might have a case for excessive use of force. And it will be a witness! Allegedly."
Aelwyn pulls the polearm close to himself and starts checking the edge of it - metal against metal does not make for good sharp edge. "Rapier," He bows his head towards Nemori, before with a rolling gait he walks up to the two twins. And holds out his hand. "Appropriate amount of coin will be placed on this palm for services rendered and damages endured during the said service." The shaft of his weapon idly taps against the edge of the stage, as he slowly rocks his glaive against the edge of it in a quasi-chopping motion.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (9)+8: 17
"The clockwork hound was clearly malfunctioning! Pursuant to local standards in practicing repairs and maintenance on such creatures, the arcanist and/or crafter hold prime laibility in these instances!" The gnome peeks over the table to answer Jay. He's fixed his glasses back on his nose and narrows his eyes across the street at the egalrin. "... Truefeather," he growls before ducking back down out of sight to resume cowering.
The sister holds up her skirts and daintily picks her way across the bloodied cobbles past the prone dwarf and the wargolem overseeing his detention. She bends over and collects the cashbox, sucking at her teeth when she notices the Khazadi blood marring its surface.
The brother finds his path interrupted by Aelwyn and he takes a step back, resting a hand over his sternum. "Well-- now, I-I, say... sir, sir!" He holds up a finger with his free hand careful to keep it away from Aelwyn-- especially Aelwyn's maw! "Y-you... you-- I say, give me space! You obtained no damages. But... but! BUT! I-- I think we can come to an arrangement."
The l-eagle egalrin fixes the gnome in his gaze, twin eyes almost as sharp as an eagle's focusing on him. Unmistakeable corvid vision. "You're well aware that in a civil tort cast there is joint liability regarding for-hire equipment, shared between the arcanist and/or crafter supplying the device and the persons activating the service conditions. Groubunt Daddlisslebbenaumi. The Tourth. Esquire."
"Unless there was a liability waiver, but I can't imagine anyone would offer or sign that." His beak clacks, "I hope you didn't decline insurance."
Jay is lying there. He hopes he did.
Khepri occasionally directs a glance down to the khazadi at its feet, making sure he hasn't tried to sneak off. "It is a poor craftsman that blames its tools," the golem comments pointedly in the direction of the twin humans. Evidently, just because you're law abiding doesn't mean you're not unwilling to snark. "Regardless, the clockwork servants would have been acceptable defenses. A malfunctioning hound," and here it toes the inert form of the hound, "could have become a public menace."
Aelwyn does not look too impressed as he rolls the chewing stick between his sharp teeth. "Wrong." He peels the glaive in between him and the brother. Up close, he runs his thumb along the blade's edge. "Damaged." The orange eyes never quite leave the other, even when he nods his head towards Khepri. "Damaged. Holy ribbons, torn." Then to... well, he doesn't mention anything about Jay.
When the word arrangement is mentioned, Aelwyn's teeth force his cheeks ajar into a 'grin'. "Good. Coin." Aaand there's that gesturing palm again.
"Counterpoint: I observed the conditions given to the hound when it was wound and activated." The gnome doens't bother looking over the stage; he can put enough venom into his words as he shouts them. "We also have signed guarantee of the efficacy and adherence to appropriate command prompts."
"If you try to bring this to court, your only chance of getting a half-copper is Judge Stoneheart! And that's only because she never understood that Myrrish precedent can influence the spirit Alexandrian law but has no quantifiablo place in ESTABLISHING it. Furthermore: you're a tort." A sound of a raspberry follows.
The brother takes another step back and bumps into the stage, half-turning to catch himself and ending up in a seated position and looking up. "W-well... I have to say. I mean, I'll say..."
"We can't pay you now," the sister tells Aelwyn, having returned from the alley with her money. "The monies on hand are part of a fund with a specified and lawbound purpose. You can glower all you like but our man is quite good--" ('I am!' shouts the gnome)-- "and you're much better off playing nice, sir." She's got her wits back about her now, clearly.
The watch is closing in. The quiet clatter of their armor and their booted footfalls join the sporadic sound of their nearing whistles.
Aelwyn turns his head towards the woman and points at himself. "But this is being nice." Then with a final glance towards the brother, he says with a (too amused) grin on his face, "Don't make me come back twice." A nod towards the sister and he picks up his glaive to join the rest of the troupe.
"I'm not a tort! You're a tort!" Jay squawks back, delivering his expert council. He snorts, and his feathers fluff, and he makes a show of snapping up his briefcase and folding the small council table back into it.
"I see I am not needed here, so good day to you, sir! I say, good day!"
He struts off like something only distantly related to eagles can.
Combatty
Map: https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mu7dlb86dqa
-End Scene-