Portside Distractions
Log Info
- Title: Portside Distractions
- Emitter: Aelwyn
- Characters: Slixvah, Gramarye
- Place: Warehouse District
- Time: August 12th, 2022
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= The Players =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Slixvah 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk Female
A rust red/white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls.
Gramarye 6'10" 320 Lb War Golem Female
A golem girl with obsidian eyes and bronze plating.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Aelwyn 5'3" 150 Lb Sith-Makar Male
Runt of a Dragoon.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
The Ox-Tavern. A den of villainery and scum, or at least a source of stomach churning curry. It was getting late in the city; a dense humid fog continued to haunt the streets, but at least the Ox was quite lively. It is here a few choice (or accidental) people may have heard rumors of a little something that might happen in the docks really maybe, specifically tonight.
Over one of the more corner tables, a ruffling figure was struggling with his large black cloak. Surely someone who doesn't get much attention with his snarls and hisses; identity that was well hidden, a proud red ribboned glaive just behind him. Yes. Sneakery and other sorts of shadowplay was afoot.
With a rumbling hiss and another snarl, the figure in the shady cloak glances around the table. "The task is simple, yes? This one needs a distraction," Pointing at his ruddy scaled chest, "A ship by the port has something that was misplaced. It will be retrieved, but there are plenty of people standing around, even at this night. Few wander around with eyes, sometimes there are other people working the warehouse." Turning to look at everyone at the table, one by one, he then continues with a clawed finger jotting at the wooden table. "Draw the attention away for a minute. No explosions, no bodies, no nothing that attracts more attention, or the barter is off the table."
Another moment passes, and the cloaked figure tilts his head. "Questions?"
"Yes," the war golem--more accurately described as a large bronze mannequin--intones, the light blinking to light in her dark eyes to indicate her speaking, as she has no moving faceplate. "Inquiry: what is considered an acceptable distraction?"
Slixvah quite despises this location. Last she was here, she was hung up by the legs to the ceiling for cheating at a card game. She didn't cheat! You just... shouldn't play card games with a lucky bird!
Knowing this, and, well armed for the job ahead. It comes as mild surprise to those that know her that an Egalrin woman was /not/ present here. Instead, a tanned half-sil woman with red hair pushed over to one side, the other side shaved, adjusts her simple brown tunic and pants to sit properly. "Yeah yeah..." she dismisses, casting a sky blue gaze over the cloaked figure. There's a stymied giggle in there somewhere. "Pop in, maybe shake some tail, maybe give a little performance play of drama. Or..."
She looks up to the towering war golem. "... yeah this'll go totes just fine," she smiles winningly.
The claw grabs a nearby bottle cap and a mug. Placing them right next to each other, he explains, "Anything that draws the target," The cap moves away from the mug, "From the target. And does not draw attention." The mug - thankfully empty - noisily clatters onto the floor. Few people turn to look at the trio. Yes, the figure in the cloak was _really_ good at this. "For any bodies, strangers are on their own to pay the fee to the guard."
The red headed elf touched nods her head the the totally-unknown-figure's explanation. But there's a grimace. "... honey, baby, sugar. Gram-Gram. Please, for the love of Tarien, do not use my name tonight. Today I am..."
Ponder. "Trixie. Call me Trixie."
This is going to go SO well.
The figure in the dark stares both at the golem and the half-sil. Turning towards Slixvah, he says, "Is she certain this was a good idea?" He quietly asks, before turning back towards the Golem. "Everything will go fine. Shall we head to the docks?"
The fog is thick in the Docks. It is hard to see much more than a respectable distance away; almost as if the darkness itself had landed. Few torches are visible through the fog though - but this part of the docks seems to be a shambles of buildings. The brick warehouses have haphazard extensions and wooden walkways stretching over the nearby water; some of them half broken. One of them is running high above besides the adventuring group. From what the party was told, the target is just right ahead, and the large looms as a dark shadow through the mist. Not too far.
Not so faint arguing, can be heard from the left across a small gap in the worn down and broken warehouse wall. The waters are still. No crows are croaking tonight.
GAME: Slixvah casts Message. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14 GAME: Slixvah casts Heroism. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 <OOC> Slixvah also Hex: Ward's Gram GAME: Slixvah used a Wand of Mage Armor.
The party can hear footsteps and creaking sounds on the walkway to their right. The wood looks very rotten and barely pieced together with rope and suspicious looking iron spikes. An equally well-kept ladder is also ahead of them.
GAME: Slixvah rolls stealth: (15)+2: 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-2: (1)+-2: -1 (EPIC FAIL)
As they leave, "Trixie" turns to Gramarye. "Hey, Gram. I gots an idea," she chirps. Her frame shifts and wavers, like that of a mirage before solidifying into something more... metallic. And wooden. A smaller war golem of moderate height, steel framing with etchings of clouds swirling all the way up them. Her head is featureless, save for two gems of sapphire that glow in the same way that the golem doll speaks. "We can pretend to be city inspectors if things go wrong," she speaks slowly, monotone.
"Also..."
On the approach, there's a flurry of spells that are flung about. Warding magics for self and others. Communications being established. And more importantly, "Oyu a igb mnad rheo, oyu anc od ti ym uletaufib lsou."
The threads of fate have been woven taut for the true golem.
Lantern in hand, the 'golem' saunters forth.
Taking a moment to peer through the fog, she cocks her head to the side, hazarding a stride forward. She's not particularly stealthy, just lucky. And boy, what luck was it that someone had their lunch stolen by a Seagull.
Under her breath, she mutters to Gram through her preplanned magics, "Guy up on the dock to your right, stay close to the wall and he won't see ya. Some other guy up ahead, but there's a gate."
GAME: Gramarye rolls Stealth: (8)+1: 9
Trixie slides up to be under the precarious walkway, eagle eyes under the illusion cutting through the fog with ease. And her attention lands on a drunkard.
A drunkard singing to a poster. Her thoughts get churning... "... oh Tarien, you're gonna love me."
Ahem. "Gram, there's a drunk guy up ahead, I'm gonna get him out of here with a bit of lying. You may want to stand out of the way."
She inhales deeply, and...-
Her form wavers. Now she's a half-sil man with black hair and a pompadour. White buckle jacket and shades on at night. White pants. Chains. White boots. "It's now or never, baybeh."
GAME: Gramarye rolls bluff+2: (14)+0+2: 16 GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff+2: aliased to bluff+3+2: (6)+6+3+2: 17 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (20)+-1: 19
There's an inherently scary thing that pops back into Trixie-now-the-half-sil's head. Gramarye's voice, carried by the same mental magic, responds: "No. I wish to try my hand at lying."
Gramarye slides up behind Elfvis. "Mr Presslee, we need to hurry. Your next engagement is scheduled for 4:45 pm. We cannot delay. Your fans will be disappointed if we cannot make the appointment."
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-5: (6)+-5: 1
"Kalehouse wok..." The Drunkard in the corner sings by himself - wearing a very cheap leather jacket and trousers that seem like they had white paint splashed on. The balding hairline had a combover, but the grease holding up the hair had long given up. "Kalehouse... rok..." The poor man attempts to transliterate, while clawing at the worn poster.
Then... then...! Eyes whipping around, bloodshot and unfocused, he sees his idol. "Press...lee?" He mumbles, and then stumbles over towards Not-Trixie-But-Elfvis. "Press-lee...!" A moment of exuberatiion and excitement.
All vanishes in an instant. "Hold on. You're blood dead." The drunk says with surprising lucidity, and instantly straightens up to attention. "What're you doing around here, role playing games?"
A pirate looking fellow looks over towards the iron fence, extremely bored and annoyed. "This's bloody sealife..." He annoyed mumbles by himself, doing his most exciting rounds.
Meanwhile, the sound of seagull quietly wanes into the horizon, as the victorious bird flies away with its prize, leaving its owner staring up in anguish.
GAME: Slixvah casts Bungle. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (4)+-1: 3 GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff-10: aliased to bluff+3-10: (8)+6+3+-10: 7 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (6)+-1: 5
Elf-ish strlls on up, hands in his pockets before his expression flashes into surprise. "Been lookin' all over for ya, hot shot!" the stylish man expresses to the drunkard. He's a spitting image of the poster. "Auditions are almost finished! We need ya in the Theatre pronto!"
Coyote laughs.
Some feathers peek out of the back of the illusion, like a scared cat before a brief moment before he smooths them back down. "Ah, yeah baybeh. You are correct-uh-mundo. Reschedule my 5:30 interview ta seven, yeah? We gotta give the fans what they want."
And then there's accusations flying her (his) way. Coyote is dying in uproarious laughter.
Thinking quick, Press-lee opens his arms and gives a broad smile. "uckf pu fkcu pu- *cough cough*"
The Tapestry has been snipped.
"The one and only honky tonk, hot shot. Listen here, all those unruly undeads and stuff making all sorts of spooky ghosts and nice sprites come back. I'm here ta tell you that ya need to carry on, my wayward son. Auditions are closing up. Be the next Press-lee."
He steps aside, and gestures to the way he and his assistant came back from.
Good thing this illusion hides her jittering knees underneath.
GAME: Gramarye rolls Bluff: (20)+0: 20 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-10: (10)+-10: 0
"I can rearrange the itinerary, Mr Press-lee," Gramarye states emotionlessly. "We must give the fans what they want. But we must adhere to it afterwards. You are a busy man since you were reanimated." She is playing the role of a mechanical assistant surprisingly well.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (2)+-1: 1 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (13)+-1: 12
Press-lee! Press-lee! That's all that the greatest fan and future star can think of, his drunkshot eyes widening in starry eyed amazement. Glancing towards the wargolem secretary whats-it, he just cannot believe his ears. "Presslee, I will never make... make you proud forever!" He breathes, trying to hold himself together. Sweat wiped, hair updoed, then the drunk begins to stumble towards the direction of the theather. The brave hero manages to make it few dozen feet or so, before the balance meets alcohol, and the future rockstar passes out in the corner.
Real Rotten luck.
On the walkway behind the duo, seagulls. Seagulls are the real enemy. Wistfully looking at the sea, the guard sees nothing but his missed lunch. The other guard keeps making his rounds, completely ignorant of the latest sing contest drama.
Press-lee gives a warm smile as his fan goes on to fufill his legacy. And he winces at the crash. There's a heavy sigh of relief as the living dead legend rests his head against the cool wood of the golem for a beat. "You are so frickin' clever, Gram Gram," she coos in a whisper.
Like the legend, it falls away to the wind as the dark wood and steeled golem with sapphire eyes takes his place. She squints ahead, pulling out a set of weighted metal balls attatched to a string. Bird culture.
"There's another guy ahead making the rounds," she whispers, watching. "Gonna wait for him to pass. I can fly over this wall, but how do we get you through the gate?"
GAME: Gramarye rolls Craft/Artifice: (19)+12: 31 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (15)+-1: 14 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+1: (18)+1: 19
Gramarye ducks behind cover. In the meantime, she sends another message to Slixvah. "Slixvah. I am capable of unbolting that gate. I require that the patrol is redirected, however. Can you assist in that regard?"
The seagull. The lunch. The real drama that had been playing out in the background. "It was my favorite double-creased mumbo-salad anchovy-stuffed double filler bunbun, too." The large man sighs, before he turns towards the rest of the area he was supposed to watch on. "Huh? Feller?" He asks, watching the drunk stumble into the corner. Slowly, he makes his way down the stares.
The pirate walking by the gate stops momentarily, and looks into the thick fog. Sounds? "Swear I could hear something..." The guard mutters, but slowly moves along, like a real not-hero.
GAME: Slixvah rolls stealth: (14)+2: 16 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (19)+-1: 18 GAME: Gramarye rolls Stealth: (15)+1: 16 <OOC> Slixvah says, "18" GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (8)+-1: 7
'Trixie' carefully slips forward after waiting, her whispering back to her machine in crime. "Ooh, good idea, honey. The patrol is moving.... now, now," she whispers quickly as ribbon like feathers break out of the illusion, wrapping around the torch to snuff it out. The feathers burn, but they singe away to nothing. She doesn't seem bothered by it.
More feathers break out of the back of her disguise, them wrapping around the bars of the gate. "I gots it secured so it won't make a big crash. Ready, love."
GAME: Gramarye rolls Crafting/Artifice+2: (18)+Crafting/Artifice+2: 20 GAME: Slixvah rolls intelligence: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (20)+-1: 19 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (16)+-1: 15 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (20)+-1: 19 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (9)+-1: 8 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (15)+-1: 14
The gate crashes down. A small catastrophe in itself - but it made a reverbating sound that everybody in the docks could easily hear. Especially the group of pirates set to guard the ship. "Huh, Jones-y! 'N Barnaby! Rrr-ight there, summat!" The group of four pirates slowly circle towards the duo caught with a broken gate in their hands. "My damn lunch!" The one pirate shouts, still. "It's that fookin' captain's keller!"
GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff: aliased to bluff+3: (17)+6+3: 26 GAME: Slixvah rolls disguise+10: (10)+2+10: 22 GAME: Gramarye rolls Bluff+2: (4)+0+2: 6 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (8)+-1: 7 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (4)+-1: 3
The gate crashes down, making Slix pop up with it. People are shouting and walking forth, she can see them with her eagle eyes. Quickly, the feathers reel back into the disguise, and the bolas in hand shimmer to a clipboard.
"Greetings and salutations," she drones in a neutral tone, sapphire eyes pulsing in the dark. "This unit's designation is Fulmination Contatption Operator. Shortened: Fulm-O."
She turns her clipboard around to show the city crest and many scribbles on it. It's hard to see through all the fog. "We are conducting random inspections."
The unit looks down to the gate. Then back up. "Your gate has failed inspection. Papers for dock, please."
GAME: Gramarye rolls Diplomacy: (4)+0: 4 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+2: (6)+2: 8
"I am Fulm-O's partner, Grace. I handle maintenance and repairs. Once inspected, I may assist you with repairs to the parts of your property that are not up to Code IS-193, subsection 13.55," Gramarye states. That... is an actual code. "It is possible to repair this gate, for instance, although I will need to make use of my equipment to perform a complicated welding technique. However, I assure you that I am certified by Contractor Code 124.51AS, section 5.1, to make such a repair as a general contractor. Do not be alarmed. I am here to help."
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Gramarye rolls Craft/Artifice+2: (9)+12+2: 23 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (17)+-1: 16 GAME: Slixvah rolls bird diplomacy: aliased to diplomacy+3+3: (1)+7+3+3: 14 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-1: (6)+-1: 5 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+2: (5)+2: 7
The clipboard is drawn, and the mighty city inspectors have arrived. That is the thought that crosses first through the pirates' minds. It was _completely_ normal to tear down the gate for the city officials, in the middle of the night without any advance warning. "Huh, lass... lasses...nications, whyfor tearing down the blood'y gate?" One of the pirates ask from Gramarye. "'s a fine new gate! Lick-n-polish 'n it will fit the 'xcept in appendix 28.12 for portside activities."
Meanwhile, Slix is met with a particularly tall and spitting image of a pirate with rogueish charm, tricone hat and feather included. "Now here miss, paperwork and all is nice, but I do know my way around docks. She is not qualified to demand paperwork from ships without due cause, outlined in the port treaty of 1011." The very charmingly man says, with a scimitar in hand. The third pirate just looks there lost. He thought as a pirate, he'd get to yell arr and hit people, not wind up in an impromptu bureacratic hell.
The seagull defeated man gives up and collapses next to the drunk, still telling tales of his mighty sandwich.
GAME: Slixvah rolls bird diplomacy: aliased to diplomacy+3+3: (9)+7+3+3: 22
Fulm-O's eyes flash once, as if blinking, before turning the clip board around. At the top was the Alexandrian crest in bright and royal colors, with quite a lot of legal jargon on the pages below it.
"This is-" The droning voice stops. Shit. Aelwyn, why the hell did you not mention these guys are actually competent? Did you do like, any scouting at all??
Time to turn up the charm! Which goes like-
She robotically steps in, sapphire gems rotating around to see more. "We have authority from the Portmaster to conduct random searches on our shift. While you are correct about no due cause. There is currently due cause because of the-"
Her voice grows louder, but still droning. "-recent incursion of undead, unannounced inspections are required to ensure incoming cargo is not soiled with necromacy/undead/wights to bypass the city wards of anti-teleportation."
"Please present your-" voice cuts to a man's -"SHIPPING. MANIFEST. Failure to comply will result in impoundment."
GAME: Gramarye rolls Diplomacy+2: (2)+0+2: 4
"It was necessary," Gramarye informs the pirates regarding the gate. She explains that the gate was engineered for one specific purpose, which was to be overly tough, but had one critical failure point: it could simply be unbolted, which had to be tested as per the code.
She drones on and on about the code. It eventually just turns into more confusing engineering babble and isn't quite as effective as she hoped for distraction purposes.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-2: (14)+-2: 12 GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (19)+11+2: 32 GAME: Gramarye rolls Perception+2: (12)+2+2: 16 GAME: Slixvah rolls sense motive+2: (17)+3+2: 22
Grumbling back at Gramarye, the engineer-irate shifts his stance of attack. "Ye'n who's paying for the damages? Took real good coin to set'er up, tell ya! Real master craftsman, that Bobberty Stobbernborn, plenty of coin!"
The demand for the shipping manifest is met with an increasingly unnerving stares. "Lass, undead or no undead, city has no right to examine our shipping manifests. Joe, go get the dockmaster so we can remove our friends of the city from our gangplank." The charming pirate says, turning towards his dumbfounded fellow. His smile - now far more colder - turns back towards Slixvah. "We won't be having a trouble about going through the paperwork in the office, will we?"
The adventurous pair spot something in the fog, gesturing wildly at them. Cloak and daggerman from the Ox! Whatever it was, they did not seem to be very happy about how the job was going.
GAME: Slixvah casts Web. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+1: (11)+1: 12 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+1: (5)+1: 6
Fulm-O stares blankly at the charming pirate. If they were such a nunce, they'd be cool looking. She's spurring up more to think about, but her attention falls to a figure to the back, gesticulating heavily. She frowns behind the illusion. This distraction is perfect! What do you mean get them out of here? Ugh. Sod this. Making this difficult for us, I'll make it difficult for you. Here's your fecking window of opportunity.
She raises a hand. "You are not complying." It reaches out, then splays outward in a spiral motion "Ikle a ylf, ntoi ym alrpo," she chants.
Exploding out of the corner is a sudden mass of sticky webs that fly out and entangle all the troublesome pirates. "Do not resist. Your compliance will be noted," she drones before STARING at the cloaked figure.
Gramarye follows Slixvah, sticking to the bird-not-bird with a plan.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (15)+5: 20 GAME: Slixvah uses an AoO! 0 remaining. GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap: aliased to intelligence+BAB: (2)+4+2: 8 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (14)+5: 19 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (13)+5: 18 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (15)+5: 20
WEBS. "Bloody timbers!" "'croisson bloody!" "For f-!" All three of the pirates yell when they get webbed. Perhaps due to their practise navigating hard rough seas, they pretty quickly untangle themselves from the sticky webs and give chase to the pair of inspectors. With their weapons drawn out. It was now or never. The mysterious figure in the background makes a very unhappy sound, but then the cloak is discarded with a rush to the ship's side. The egg is in the nest.
GAME: Slixvah casts Strangling Hair. Caster Level: 5 DC: 17 GAME: Slixvah rolls witch+intelligence: (11)+5+4: 20 GAME: Slixvah rolls 1d6: (1): 1
Slixvah sucks a breath in as they all break free. Shit. The cloaked figure is heading in. People are advancing on her. She acts quick.
Sliding back, she raises her hands to the sky. "Ouy neaumsedirett ym eprow!" A surge of energy floods from her, and-
A hefty amount of long, rope-like feathers flop to the ground behind her. "YOUR COMPLIANCE IS MANDATORY!" she says in her voice, planting her feet as both hands fly down. The coils suddenly animate, shooting through the air as they wrap up the charming pirate. Joints pop. It's dragging him down.
Her chin rises. Damn, it feels good to hold the cards.
Gramarye assesses the situation. The entity that appears to be their employer has slipped inside.
"I am leaving the battlefield," she announces. "I am not returning."
The bronze mannequin leaves before anything else can happen after she makes her very polite announcement.
GAME: Slixvah uses an AoO! 0 remaining. GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap: aliased to intelligence+BAB: (5)+4+2: 11 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (13)+5: 18
The Charmer gets bound up. "By the devils, she has me ensnared, bedeviled!" He proclaims, then turns his head towards Gramarye. "Uh, battlefield, lass?" The pirate asks from the quickly retreating wargolem. It was a battlefield?
Meanwhile, the other pirate lets out a characteristic 'Yarrr!' and makes a leaping lunge at Slixvah, grappling her down.
GAME: Slixvah rolls witch+intelligence: (19)+5+4: 28 GAME: Slixvah casts Ear-Piercing Scream. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15 GAME: Slixvah rolls 3d6: (9): 9 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+3: (6)+3: 9
Slixvah whips her head over to Gram as the golem leaves, her nodding and-
Her arm is grabbed. The fog is dense.
She's all alone.
"Momma didn't raise no bitch!"
Wait what.
There's no sound that happens, but the one grabbing her, his ears suddenly start bleeding as only for him: there was a hyper sonic screaming right in his ears.
GAME: Slixvah uses an AoO! 0 remaining. GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap: aliased to intelligence+BAB: (9)+4+2: 15 GAME: Slixvah rolls 1d3+6: (1)+6: 7 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25
It takes a moment for the one pirate holding her down to realize what's happening. Then he begins screaming, his hands on his ears. "M'EARS!" He shouts, completely confused and out of it. The other pirate manages to break his way free. "Now's a game a'foot, lass!" He grits between his teeth, no longer the prince charming. Instead, he charges at her, taking a whip in the face and collapses onto her. That was a solid hit. Surely there won't be any corpses on the port?
GAME: Slixvah rolls cmb: (10)+2: 12 GAME: Slixvah rolls cmb: (2)+2: 4
Slixvah's feathers cease as shifts focus, smacking the guy once before she's caught by the throat. She squirms, "Why you little-"
"-... heeeyyyy Gram... uh. My cute ass is kinda... Gawk."
"You're coming down the galley, officia-bot!" The charmer threatens, trying to hold her down until all three of them can drag her away down into the ship.
GAME: Gramarye casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15 GAME: Gramarye rolls 1d4+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Gramarye rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2
Gramarye was hanging around, waiting for Slixvah to catch up. And then she's messaged.
She doesn't answer back via the message. Instead, it's a quick thunk-thunk-thunk-thunk--
"Distributing arcane ordnance." The voice is an octave lower than Gramarye's usual tone, and the bronze mannequin now has bright red eyes. "Combat mode initiated. Objective: rout the enemy. Surrender or be destroyed. Unhand her."
Magic missiles find their mark in two of the men attacking Slixvah.
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18 GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap-2: aliased to intelligence+BAB-2: (20)+4+2+-2: 24 GAME: Slixvah rolls feather slap-2: aliased to intelligence+BAB-2: (13)+4+2+-2: 17 GAME: Slixvah rolls 2d3+12: (5)+12: 17
"Suck my tailfeathers, lint licker!" the offica-bot snaps back at the charmer as she struggles. Arcane missiles fly over and hit them, and her confidence shoots back up. Okay. There was a chance of getting out of this. Think, think, think...
She looks back, blinking under the guise at the red eyes in the distance. That's... new. And terrifying. And awesome.
What's not awesome, is her getting pulled away slowly. Anger wells within her, and she lashes out.
>CRACK<
The charmer's head hits the hard ground. "Fuck."
She points a finger at the other guy. "Back your chicken shit ass up and help me fix your fucking friend."
GAME: Gramarye rolls Intimidate: (3)+0: 3 GAME: Gramarye rolls Intimidate: (6)+0: 6
Gramarye still has her hands raised. The delicate looking-mannequin in a nice dress with red eyes intones: "Surrender, or--"
Her red eyes short out and are replaced by blue. "Error. Restarting."
GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20+1: (7)+1: 8 GAME: Aelwyn rolls 1d20-6: (20)+-6: 14
Whatever the pirate was doing, is now watching with mouth agape at Slixvah, with his friend's blood splattered over his beard. He dumbly takes the offered healing kit, and with eyes getting all teared up he bends over and starts to try and patch his friend up. "P-P-P-" He stutters and does very little to help his less-charming priate now. There's a sudden chortle, a flow of blood, and the captain sighs a deep relief. Blood and all the other stuff coming out of his ears and nose, aside. The third pirate runs up the stairs, leaving the Termin-... Gramarye safely restart on her own. "Y-y-y-ou little... bo-t! Yeah! Bot!" He shakes his blade at Slixvah, completely shaken.
GAME: Slixvah rolls healing hex: aliased to 2d8+witch: (12)+5: 17
Slixvah frets a bit as she sees the guy she handed her kit to fumble with it. And people are yelling at her. Guilt wells within her. "I-I didn't mean-"
No, stop. Focus. You hold fate. Change it. Inhale deeply.
"Move aside," she barks, reaching down with a hand. White tendrils untangle from her hands and sink into the crushed face of the captain. He sighs in relief. There's time.
The damage is shifted around to things that didn't matter too much. Bones. Teeth. Skin. Arteries suture. The bleeding stops. And the pain subsides.
The tendrils pull away. No death today. "Have your papers next time," she glowers, though there's no real force to it as she steps away into the fog.
And there's the beat of wings as she flies off. "Mission accomplished, Gram Gram, get the hell out," she mutters in flight.
Gramarye follows Slixvah into the fog, disappearing with her. The mannequin has no inclination of being caught or followed.
When the two make their escape from the Docks, the agreed upon rendezvous point was once again, the Ox-Tavern. Looking for the mysterious cloak and dagger man (who was usually very easy to spot) - it might take a while to notice the really grumpy looking ruddy-scaled sith-makar in the corner with a small box on his side. It was very well crafted box, with what looked to be magical chains and other sigils, but currently it was serving as the draconian's elbow rest.
"No pay." The sith-makar says to the two. "No coin. No nothing. Just stuck with this," Inaudible, "Box." He was obviously not vey happy about the turn of things.
Trixie was back, the half-sil redhead, though her expression was a fierce scowl. "What the hell do you mean, no pay? We did what you asked. Made a distraction, no one died. Guards aren't alerted," she lists off, counting on her fingers. "We did that shit as best as possible, and just a couple of people are roughed up."
The war golem rises to her full height. Six feet, ten inches. She towers over the whole group.
"Pay her," she instructs, pointing at Slixvah. "She risked her life. Organic compounds cannot be fixed as easily as constructs like myself. She deserves compensation."
The ruddy-scaled draconian is taken back. Especially by the sudden _tall_ wargolem. He lets out a frustrated groan and rests his hand against his face. "Misunderstanding," He holds up his arms defensively. "The two will be paid. What will not be paid is this," He points at his chest, looking very frustrated and upset about it. "They never showed up. They left this box that they very clearly wanted, but did not want in the end." The menacingly fancy box sits in the center of the table. He takes in a deep breath, rolls his shoulders, with an eye towards Slix. "She will be compensated."
Then his eyes turn towards Gramarye. "And what of her, what will be her price for her work?"
Trixie dusts her shoulder off as the war golem backs her up. A hand raises as it pats a wooden shoulder. "Thanks."
Down to the Dragoon now. She crosses her arms. "Just compensate her what I was being compensated," she huffs. "The box sounds like a you problem," she says hotly, a lot of words roiling in her head.
It takes a moment for Gramarye to respond. What she says is shocking.
"I require no compensation. I am only thankful I could keep a friend alive."
The bronze mannequin looks to Slixvah. "If you wish to compensate me, then place an order at the forge. I look forward to your future request."
The bronze mannequin departs the Ox. She has things to work on. Things that are easier to fix than people.
The draconian takes a small bag off his satchel. He had already counted the money he owed. "Hmmh, this one might visit the forge." He rumbles, but he tosses the bag of coins over to Slixvah. "She did as asked, and in that it was good job." He bows his head and looks annoyed at the box again, before standing up suddenly. "Talk, later." He rumbles in passing to Slix, and with his dark cloak wrapped around the box, Aelwyn heads outside the tavern.
Trixie catches the bag and shoves it into a pocket, only for her lips to curl back into a frown and-
She's blind sided. The heat blows off of her as she turns to Gram leaving. "... o... oh."
She looks to her hands as she's all alone now. "... well now I just feel like a dick."
-End Scene-