Diplomatic Immunity

"So," Says the leader of this little diplomatic envoy. A stout gnome by the name Wofira Mukneenup who looks like she might have bought a boutique and then rolled around in it. She's wearing what looks like two different vests sewed together to make one. Her shirt is a loud red and has a plaid design that seems to change colors as she moves to urge the horses on - slowly. "Turns out that the Charnese might have kidnapped a boy from some island nation. He's supposed to be their next king - and seeing that the old one died.... folks are in quite an uproar. Verbalt... that's the kingdom - is pretty upset. They want their kid back and Charn isn't inclined to give 'em. Seems that they want the little island nation to pony up and hand over the reins."

You can't really tell what she thinks of all this news, but she chuffs at the horses and looks over at the covered wagons holding the other diplomats. Why is the leader of the carravan, and the most important diplomat driving the horses? Because she wanted to and no one was willing to argue her out of it. Seems she's the head diplomat for a reason. When she wants something? She's liable to get it.

"You're here because someone - or something - might decide to cause trouble between here and Charn. Wouldn't surprise me if it were Charn, nor if it were Verbalt. Or monsters. There's always some of those around." She sounds just a little excited at this thought. Goodness forbid she try and actually use the rapier at her hip.

Randolf scowls dourly, arms folded over his burly chest and his beard bristling angrily. "So... we're goin' tae be rescuin' this poor lad from that foul shithole, then. Right?" he growls. He glances around at the gathering, then back to Wofira. "Seems a wee bit small of a group tae be mountin' a royal rescue, innit? I expect those filthy devil-fuckers won't be best pleased when we nip their heir presumtive out from under their filthy noses." He harrumphs, hawking and spitting noisily on the ground. "-Fuck- Charn, says I. Nae good ever came out that bloody place."

Valadhiel looks wryly at Randolf, then shrugs a bit, "Not that I'd ever think to defend Charn, but it seems like threats can come from any corner. Focusing on just one, however likely it is to be, means to ignore the others." She absently adjusts the longbow hanging from her back, the sylvan runes seeming to almost glow faintly as she surveys the group. "We'll just need to make sure to be ready for all the eventualities."

Seyardu was riding in the carriage, and keeping an eye on the back, as she was never one of the ones to be driving if she could help it. "Not surprised. Charn is known for using kidnapped people against other nations any way they know how to. I do know at least two good things to come from Charn, at least, but, I agree with the assessment for the main thing. But Randolf, there is a reason we are sending diplomats. The moment they thought we were attempting to free them, they would be executed immediately. It is better to speak as much as we can, and come to an agreement if possible. And, failing that, we will learn what we can of how they are being kept to fix that."

"Plenty of good people have come out of the Stygian Empire," Jinks laughs, sitting back in his military saddle and allowing Neighsayers do most of the work on the trail. "I can think of at least one extremely formidable Silver Guard and a certain mute mul'niessa you've traveled with more than a few times just off the top of my head.

"... not that I'm arguing the government and some of their accepted social practices are the most pleasant." The gnome smirks and fiddles with his many rings idly. "Definitely would advise against spending any time in their 'persuasive' mercenary guildhalls. -That- was exceptionally unsettling."

The glittering little dandy-man wears the large wine-colored coat over his armor and kit, like a prince out playing at war. "Made a point to bring those transcribed prophecies should anything come in handy, too..." he muses, patting one of his scroll pouches.

"Ah... no." Says the gnomish woman, looking at Randolf. "We've no intention of mounting a rescue for the boy at this time. We're going in to negotiate and see if diplomatic means won't work." She looks away from you all. "Though who knows if diplomacy will work?"

This seems to imply strongly that if diplomacy _doesn't_ work, she might be willing to turn a blind eye on any shenanigans. Good to know that you've got backup. Just the sort that'll deny knowing that they had anything to do with you.

GAME: Jinks rolls Survival: (17)+0: 17
GAME: Seyardu rolls survival: (3)+6: 9
GAME: Valadhiel rolls Survival: (2)+9: 11
GAME: Randolf rolls Survival: (14)+2: 16
GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (7)+7: 14

Randolf harrumphs, grumbling dourly into his beard. "Ye all brung -me- along, didn't ye?" he mutters as he prepares to set off. "Sure's shit that means diplomacy -won't- work, if -I- have any say on it. Hrumph!"

GAME: Jinks rolls Perception: (14)+7: 21
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (6)+13: 19

"... Mulria's sideways smile," Jinks mutters, standing up with his bow as the alarm sounds and blinking his onyx-black as he scans the camp. He wasn't asleep! He's just not the most keen observer, really!

The gnome weaves his way through the camp towards the mid(hopefully)-night terrors diplomat and tries to pat his cheeks in a kind-but-firm sort of way. "Rise and shine, lovely," cooes the gnome.

"Seyardu? We may need you...!" His voice carries spectacularly considering his tiny frame.

A strange slug-like creature - wait are those eyes? - crawls out of the man's ear and squiggles on the ground furiously until it reaches Jink's boot and clammors upwards.

GAME: Valadhiel rolls perception: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)

Valadhiel blinks awake quickly... not that she was really /asleep/, since she's an elf. But she rises and grabs for her bow as the alarm goes off, and sees Jinks over by the diplomat, "Jinks? What's going on?" She rolls nimbly to her feet, not noticing the eminent danger of the multi-eyed Wrath of Khan reject crawling up the gnome.

GAME: Seyardu rolls heal: (10)+10: 20
GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (8)+7: 15
GAME: Seyardu casts Breath of Life. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21
GAME: Randolf rolls perception: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Seyardu rolls 5d8+12: (16)+12: 28

Randolf snorts awake with a scramble of limbs as the alarm rings out across the camp. He scrabbles to his feet, ripping his wand and battleaxe off his belt as he looks around wild-eyed. "Where are they?!" he snarls. And it was such a nice dream he was having, too. Neverending mugs of mead brewed in Reos' heavenly breweries, served by apple-cheeked and generously-bosomed dwarven maidens. He looks around, blinking like an owl. The man going into a seizure has him looking around worriedly. But when he spots that awful slug thing trying to clamber up Jink's leg, he turns white as milk. "Oh, beards o' me sweet tapdancin' fathers!" he says in a strangled tone. He swallows hard, whipping out his wand and pointing it. "Re ex re io prestos!" A translucent sphere closes around the thing, and it bobbles up into the air, hovering in place. "What the hell -is- that thing?!"

GAME: Randolf casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14

Seyardu was already not sleeping particularly well so close to Charn, and the sound of Jinks shouting for her was enough to get to her feet with some manner of haste. Chances were if the gnome was voluntarily seeking her out, things were not good. A suspicion proven nearly instantly correct as she sees the one guard on the ground. "Something just liquified his brain!" She shouts, disgusted by the thought, and worried. But rushing in could risk her being in a similar situation.

"Jinks, there is a slug on you. I do not know if it caused this. Mind the grass!" She shouts to him before finally running over and attempting to revive the person with healing magics.

Jinks steps back away from the slug and grimaces at the squirming thing. "Drop it in the fire."

With the slug securely in hand, and away from Jinks, there's a... sound. A roaring, whining, crawling noise. It doesn't sound like any voice you've ever heard before, not one. But many. Rising and falling. Cut off before they can make anything but din. Then there's the scratching. The dragging. And then it enters into your view. A creature with twelve faces. Or two. Claws and teeth and... it moves and shifts constantly. It's got tentacles. No a tail. No both! Whatever this thing is, it can't seem to decide _what_ it is!

GAME: Valadhiel rolls knowledge/the planes: (16)+13: 29
GAME: Valadhiel casts Slow. Caster Level: 5 DC: 19

Valadhiel gestures rapidly as the larger beast emerges into the camp, eyes going wide as she recognizes the thing, "It's a Chaos Beast! Don't let it touch you, it will warp your body! It feeds on your mind and will!" With that, she concentrates, chanting in the eldritch tongue as greenish-gold energy lashes out from her fingertips to try and encircle the chaos beast, attempting to slow it down.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+4: (15)+4: 19
GAME: Seyardu casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20
GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/The Planes: (9)+12: 21

Seyardu was just about to move to help with the small slug, when the much larger one shifts into view. "They speak correctly, do not let it get close, but do not lose sight of the small one, either!" She shouts. "Something, or someone likely brought them here."

Seyardu reaches for her holy symbol, and offers a prayer familiar to Jinks and Randolf, which infuses them with divine alacrity to their movements.

GAME: Randolf casts Ice Storm. Caster Level: 7 DC: 18
GAME: Randolf rolls 3d6+2d6: (9)+(9): 18
GAME: Jinks casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 10 DC: 19
GAME: Jinks spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+4: (9)+4: 13

Randolf's eyes go wide as tea saucers as that -thing- rears its ugly head. Heads. Tentacles. Appendages. Whatever. "Oh, piss up my -arse-!" he snarls. With a flick of his wand he sends the bobbling orb holding the baby sluggo into the fire. It pops like a soap bubble, leaving the larva to its firey fate. Squaring up his shoulders, he turns and slashes his wand through the air. "Re ex raya an glacia tempestos! HAH!" Snapping his wand out, a vortex of frosty blue whirls out over the beast. Massive shards of ice begin pelting down, shattering like glass and littering the ground with steaming icy rubble. "YOU WON'T BE GETTIN' -MY- BRAINS, YE NASTY BITCH!" he roars.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (3)+13: 16
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (13)+13: 26
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (8)+13: 21
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+13: (12)+13: 25
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (90): 90
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (4): 4
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (55): 55
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d100: (76): 76
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+3: (2)+3: 5
GAME: Randolf rolls Fortitude+2: (9)+6+2: 17

The amorphous mass makes a lumbering step forward and throws all of its limbs at Randolf. It can't see. It's many, many eyes are blind. But it still makes contact with the dwarf. With... a foot? It's hard to tell what any one of its limbs are at a given moment.

"Every midnight we sit at the coffee table and we share a cup of tea

She stays up with me and we discuss things..." 

Jinks' song isn't one of his usual standards but the Harpist would have her devotions and he needs a song. The gnome's words leave his lips and push through the Hymn to take on power and bolster his allies.

The bard holds his bow ready in one hand when he pinches out the mica from a pouch, curls his fingers into a fist, and blows the fine powder through the air. The glittering stuff takes on a life of its own, cavorting through the air as speed until it explodes over the roiling mass in a shower of blinding pink sparkles. The creature is fabulous and quite easy to spot... even if you maybe don't want to.

GAME: Valadhiel casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 5 DC: 18
GAME: Valadhiel rolls 1d20+15: (5)+15: 20
GAME: Valadhiel rolls 4d6: (11): 11

Valadhiel shouts in eldritch, the green eldritch symbols around her suddenly flaring into a dark crimson, as flames roar from her hands, impaling the chaos beast as she backs away just enough to stay out of easy reach of the thing.

GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+6+9+2: (6)+6+9+2: 23
GAME: Seyardu rolls 1d20+6+4+2: (11)+6+4+2: 23
GAME: Seyardu rolls 2d10+8: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Randolf casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17

Seyardu stays where she is as the creature moves to attack, illuminated by Jinks' magic. She takes her holy symbol in hand, which causes a ghostly sith-makar to manifest in front of the creature. It swings down into the creature with a large polearm, impacting with a rather strange thud as it does not seem to physically impact them.

GAME: Randolf rolls 7d6: (25): 25
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+8: (6)+8: 14

Randolf roars in pain as the things claws--stingers, quills, what-ever- the hell it has--gash his shoulder, sending a spray of dwarven blood into the air. He scrambles away, aided by Seyardu's blessing to scoot away as fast as his tubby dwarven stride can carry him. Whirling back around, he jabs his wand towards the thing. "YOU WANT A PIECE O' ME, YE SHEEPFUCKER? HAVE SOME O' THIS! RE EX RE INCARDO LEVINTAS! HAH!!" He snaps his wand out, and wills a thick coil of lightning into being. ZRRAAKKKKOW! The bolt blasts into the chaos beast, sending arcs of electricity skating over its shape for a second after it strikes. The beast warbles and ripples as its form dissolves into a steaming pile of... something. Panting for breath, Randolf straightens up, pounding his chest with his wand-clutching fist. "REOOOOOOS! YAARRRRGH! WHO ELSE FUCKIN' WANTS SOME?!"

GAME: Valadhiel rolls perception: (7)+13: 20

Jinks had two arrows knocked and drawn on his bow, the runes etched into the wood-and-metal shaft glowing up and humming quietly along with his song... but then Randolf displays his evocation expertise (with the Weave AND his mouth) and the gnome just grins and lets the taut bowstring relax.

"Most of the time she just listens Other times offers suggestions with her thoughtful expressions. Altered reflections-- her whole aura is see-through With more confessions (I don't want to leave you)..."

The dandy keeps up his song and walks to the edge of the camp, his voice carrying even as the power of the Hymn leaves the words. It's started and he'll see it finished today; a deal's a deal.

GAME: Valadhiel rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18

Valadhiel blinks, as her eyes narrow, her elven vision giving her sight of, "There! A figure in the shadows!" She immediately launches off after the figure, moving rapidly to try and knock them down. Sadly, the figure twists out of the way as she approaches, nimbly evading her tackle attempt as the elf rolls out of the miss, rising back onto her feet with catlike grace. She points at the figure, "Stop right there!"

GAME: Seyardu rolls perception: (10)+7: 17

"Unhand! I mean get away from me you... woman!" Says a voice in the dark, clearly he expected to have been tackled by Valadhiel's tackle and then she missed. He stands up and dusts himself off. Clearly a mul'niessian nobleman of some variation. "How dare you tackle me in the dark. Do you know who I _am_? I have... DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY."

Randolf looks over at Valadhiel as she goes to tackle a strange figure in the shadows. His beard bristles and his brows knot furiously, and he trots over there as fast as he can motivate his tubby ass. As the man postures, he whips his wand up, leveling it within an inch of his nose. "I dinnae give a ram's fat -arse- who you are!" he snarls. He whips his wand back to point at the steaming pile of glop slowly spreading across the ground. "If that was -yer- wee little pet? I swear tae fuckin' -Reos-, they'll never find yer fuckin' -corpse-!" WHIP. The wand gets pointed back at the man. "Now if -I- was -you-, I'd start exercisin' some gods-damned -manners-. You -get- me, laddie-buck? DO YE?!"

Seyardu sighs once the creature topples. She looks to the others, to the guard who seemed to be in stable condition. "Randolf, thank you for what you have done, but remember this beast is from another plane."

The cleric turns to the commotion and squints. "For reasons such as that."

The cleric dusts off her robes and jogs off into the darkness. Where the figure was. "We have no clue who you are, which means that we would be completely fine cutting you down in self defense after what just happened. So, you are welcome to explain why we should not do that, and who you are, quickly, I imagine."

Valadhiel draws out her sword, the cold iron blade dark in the night as she regards the Mul'niessian. While she's made progress in being nice with the shadow elves in Alexandria, seeing /this/ one has made old grudges surface as she nods in agreement with Seyardu, "Indeed, mul. Speak quickly, and explain yourself. Why sulk out here in the shadows while we were attacked by something from beyond this world?" Her eyes narrow as she regards the man with suspicion.

Doing his best to concentrate, Jinks squats and holds his hands as the Mourners showed him, imitating the scales in a gesture of devotion.

"There's little that death will interrupt I went to bed last night with one sip left in the cup."

The song done, the gnome stands and smiles at nothing. "(... thanks again, Harpist.)" he mutters and then trots through the brush and trees to find the source of all the ruckus. Hoping the bridges aren't too burned to cross when he arrives.

"My name is Zikakh Urseish! I am a nobleman of Charn, and I... came out to greet the caravan. Heard the commotion and hurried over here!" This is at least a plausible explanation. Sort of. "Ask your diplomats. I am one myself and your threats... are unnecessary and unwarranted!"

GAME: Jinks rolls Perform/Sing: (1)+23: 24 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Seyardu rolls sense motive: (11)+13: 24
GAME: Valadhiel rolls sense motive: (2)+2: 4
GAME: Randolf rolls Sense Motive: (9)+4: 13

Randolf eyes the man for a moment longer. With a harrumph, he shoves his wand into its holster. "Well, -Lord- Urseish. I am Randolf Axepeak o' the Clan Axepeak. An' -I- am a nobleman o' Khazad Duin. An' if I have given offense, then I apologize. As ye can see... we're a wee bit on edge." Hey, at least he didn't spit on the man's boots, despite how desperately, -desperately- he yearns to.

Valadhiel narrows her eyes at the explanation, but does return her sword to its scabbard. "Very well, then." She looks rather displeased, "A chaos beast attacking our group is also a rather severe violation of diplomatic protocol, but... if you are not responsible, so be it." She looks quietly at Jinks and Seyardu, gauging their reactions.

"So instead of coming after the threat was gone, you run away. Despite your intentions to come and meet us. I do not care what your status is, the softskin fascination with putting themselves above others so much is still bizarre.” Seyardu chuffs, and her eyes narrow even further. "One of the diplomats in question nearly died from beasts not of this realm on your soil, which seems like a much more worrying problem. And as it stands now, either they were summoned, or escaped for whatever reason. And neither are particularly good, are they?"

Jinks sets his bow onto the catch between his shoulderblades and secures the lower strap of the harness to his belt, freeing his hands as he approaches. The gnome gives an easy smile and shallow nod to Valadhiel and reaches up to pat Randolf on the shoulder as he passes, offering the slightest of squeezes.

There's a glance to Seyardu when the sith-makar levels her implications. The bard smooths down his goatee and offers a friendly smile. "Lord Urseish, apologies. Our blood runs hot still from battle. Would you perhaps join us at our camp for a more civil conversation and maybe a nibble of the morning meal?" <sildanyari>

The gentleman in question nods if somewhat uncertainly to Randolf. Acknowledging him if not particularly pleased to be doing so. Valahiel and Seyardu in particular get nasty looks from the nobleman who at least seems partially appeased by the gnome who presents a peace offering. Though he sniffs his nose at the proposition that Jinks offers. "Campfire food? I think not, but I would be amenable to the conversation. That is after all what I came for. And to escort you the rest of the way to the city. Yes."

With that he makes his way toward your encampment, where the diplomats are scurrying to get dressed and various other morning tasks. Which veritably stop when they notice the nobleman. He offers them a small superior smile and the diplomats make much ado about making him welcome. <sildanyari>

-End