Face to Faceless
Log Info
- Title: Face to Faceless
- Emitter: Jinks
- Characters: Jay, Slixvah, Patch, Zofija
- Place: A14: Entryway to Artificer's Hall Caverns
- Time: Sunday, October 30, 2022, 9:54 PM
- Summary: What do you do with a drunken sailor? Or a shapeshifting aberration pretending to be a drunken sailor? Chain him to a mast until he's sombre, probably! It's worse when he's really a Faceless Stalker with epic 'Poker Face' game. Integrity brings in smarter resources: Patch, Slixvah, while Zofija guards the prisoner and wins the Stinger aware for the day.
-=--=--=--=--=-<* A14: Entryway to Artificer's Hall Caverns *>--=--=--=--=--=-
Descending the stairs beneath the Hall leads you into a large, stone foyer. Hastily converted from the old basement into a large, singular room, there are hastily-made benches, as well as a second, minor shrine to Reos and Gilead, under his role as a guardian of safe passage. The foyer itself is not sealed, though it is guarded by armed artificers from the Hall. Occasionally, there is traffic from the Hall and other areas--professors, artificers, as well as members of the Reosan and Gilean faiths. On occasion, adventurers as well, on contract from the Guild.
Adjoining the main foyer are two decontamination rooms. These rooms are used to cleanse and decontaminate between going to and from the labyrinthine basement and ultimately, tunnels that exist beneath the Hall, and wander beneath Alexandria. A large, artifice-enforced seal locks the way to these tunnels, though passes may be obtained through the Artificer's Hall, Adventurer's Guild, and similar bodies. Another set of decontamination rooms are on the other side of it.
Yet, it cannot be stressed enough how hastily this was put together. The foyer and its rooms were converted from the Hall's once-basement, the walls torn down and refashioned to what is seen, today. The seal itself was made quickly, and out of desperation. It needs work. It needs a lot of work.
The history of this area dates to the Hall's rising in 1018. Its spider-like form lifted on eight legs and then promptly froze. The movement left exposed the haphazard, basement offices and secret labratories of artificers and artificer-priests, each dedicated to the relentless discovery of machinations and SCIENCE! Although the top layer has since been converted into the grand foyer, here--the twisting, winding remains below are largely unexplored.
The depths beyond the Seal are too vast, too convoluted for any one person to map. It is said that the upper layers are composed of abandoned workshops and beyond are deeper tunnels, and tunnels deeper still. They wander past Alexandria's sewage, and even into old khazadi ruins from the days before the birth of the Fel. Morduzum. These ruins are, lore has it, cursed--a curse supported by the occasional appearance of beasts from beyond from their depths. How deep, and how expansive they are is uncertain, though it is said to stretch miles.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-= -=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jay 5'9" 145 Lb Eaglefolk Male A perky male Blue Jay with a discerning eye. Patch 4'8" 100 Lb Dawn Elf Female A blond Llyranesi with a port-wine stained face. Slixvah 5'8" 130 Lb Eaglefolk Female A rust red/white Egalrin covered in veils, ribbons, and shawls. Zofija 5'8" 225 Lb Hobgoblin Female A well-dressed Arvek-Nar with a big hammer. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Jinks 3'4" 39 Lb Gnome Male A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's cold and dark outside, past suppertime and well towards winding down in Sage Orum's Plaza on this cloudy Eliday evening. Academics from diverse fields of study mingle, meander, and mosey to finish those last studies or head to their dormitories or apartments to relax, rest, and retire. The air still has the wet and earthy smell from the earlier rain.
The spider-shaped construction of the Artificer's Hall still hosts a modest amount of activity with the most boisterous section attended by younger men, women, and other in their comfortable clothes, house robes, and dressing gowns. A tenured Khazadi mastercrafter (with beard more grey than red) dozes in a plush armchair while the younger union enjoys the most informal meeting of the minds.
Down below the well-lit halls is the still, dank, half-cursed (and mostly-abandoned) catacombs. There's very little sign of life here and even less in the way of permanent lighting.
Bring a torch. Or a lantern. Or eyes that work in the dark. Something along those lines. Or don't and run into a wall; I'm not your mother.
A moldy and abandoned workshop has been repurposed into a makeshift cell. A gnomish watchperson looking like a squat, steel tortoise with a fantastic pink mustache idles by the open door wearing his gnight-visiogn goggles. Egntirely gno-gnnonsense, he doesgn't so much as gnod 'hello' with the egalrin returns with guests to see the prisogner.
Inside, the unremarkable man in unremarkable clothes hunches forward in a chair chained to a blocky and broken steam engine awaiting repair. The creature's unsettling features are obscured under a sackcloth hood and his hands are bolted fast into ball-shaped manacles. It clicks an idle tune with its tongue as it waits.
"So, Slix, I just wanted you here. Zsofija knows what is going on and I remember Patch and you were talking about magic things and Magus points and you might know something about this, arcane lore wise." Integrity explains. He's brought three lights, a torch, a magic stone and something windup artifice that clicks and emits a glow. As he has explained earlier, he's not a burrow owl, he doesn't like being underground.
Especially this deep.
"Anyhow, this Stalker and his friends kidnapped Cesseli, for reasons, well, I hope you can help me get it to explain." He waves a dark feathered hand, "more reasons than he wants to trade him for a lockbox. Allegedly. I don't know why... well whatever it is, would be interested in a Kulthian lockbox."
Slixvah scratches her head, a feather glowing out of the top of her head as she walks along with Integrity. "... kidnapped Cesseli? Wuh, we jus' saw da boi like, not that long ago. Uh... aight? Guess I can try and suss somethin' outta this."
She looks behind to towards the elf in question. "Wanna figure out this tag team, Pattie?"
"I don't know much about Kulthos, but I do recall a Cesseli." Patch admits, having followed after Slixvah as they were led here. A curious eye goes about this place, a glance lingering on the accused stalker, and this odd situation. "Though a mystery and secrets is always appealing."
A smile is flashed to Slixvah, Patch's shoulders given a subtle shrug. "I'm in, but... I might as a few questions." as if she doesn't already at times. "As for the lockbox. Who doesn't want to know what's in one? Kulthian means old, old can mean valuable. I see the appeal." she muses.
At one of the walls in the room, an arvek-nar was out cold in one of the chairs, looking much more paler than usual. It wasn't until there was some form of activity that the arvek-nar awoke with a snort, taking a look around and reaching for their hammer, but eventually leaving it be. Most of their stomach would have been bare, if not for the heavy amount of bandages around it. "I don't know too much about what's going on, if I'm being perfectly honest." The cavalier grunts. "All I know is that the bastard in that cell kidnapped someone, either split into three or had two accomplices, and abducted someone, I guess Cesseli is their name."
"Oyar? Y'ello now..?" The sack hood shifts as the head beneath it tilts up and the creature in unassuming garb sits a little straighter. "Me thinks we've had us a bit of he ol' mistake 'ere. I was lookin' fer the head, was I, 'n I got good'n bundled-off..."
Chains clatter and clink and the ball-mitts raise up to wave tiredly. They appear to be quite heavy. "... y'ello now..?"
"Yes, it's Cesseli," Jay repeats, passing the gnome guard and standing in front of the prisoner. "So, get ready. It's called 'Faceless' for a reason."
Keeping his distance, the bluejay reaches over and pulls off the sack-cloth hood, then steps back.
"It can also shape-change." The bluejay adds.
A grizzled brunette with gaunt, pockmarked features blinks and flinches as the hood is pulled away. He has a patchy beard and his short hair is wild from time spent in the hood. One eye droops and is glassy.
"... now that'd be a trick, says I," he marvels at Jay.
Slixvah gives a return smile in her eyes as a flash of one goes her one from Patch. "I am curious about tha' box, but ya kno', sometimes some things ain't meant ta be opened, ya dig?"
Her attention falls to the figure in the hood, her brows furrowing before-
"Oh shi- Muscles!" she gasps, slipping forward towards the Nar with hands outstretched. Both glow a white, soft hue. "Oh honey, oh sweetheart, oh precious...!"
A look over her shoulder as she takes a break from checking on Zofija. Her head tilts to the side. "Does they? Hm. That makes two's of us."
Patch lets Slixvah take care of Zofija, that rushed aid bringing a smile to her face as she casts the Nar a single nod. "Oh, I know. But secrets are tempting to many. A reason of its own." she offers after.
With her attention turning to the unmasked abductor, Patch raises a brow and steps closer to peer into those pocked features. "Such strange descriptions of what happened." she says of Zofija's words. "Split into three, or had accomplices?" this causing an ear to twitch. Someone has to focus on the task. "So, an investigation?" she asks, turning back to glance at Jay.
"Ah, I'll be fine, probably." The arvek-nar waves off, but making no actual attempt to stop any aid. "...Thanks, only real bad part is the fact that I probably shouldn't be drinking with all the blood loss."
"In a lot better shape than that sorry thing in there, too." She adds as she looks at the figure. "Don't let it fool you, it didn't look like that when it was knocked out or we brought them in."
The seaman has scene better days, in fact. He's been relieved of his cloak, coat, and belts, and his shirt is tattered, blooded, and scorched from all manner of stabbing, slashing, and spelling. A few faded, black tattoos show out through the ruined garment.
"Oooh, y'ello to you, missus," he croons, ogling Patch. "Think I've seen'a Sezeli. 's down near Eshtar, yarr?" He asks his question and then tucks his head, using a rivet on the forged mitt to rub his eyebrows. "Never seen her afore, says I. Learnt some Silly-mari in my sailin's, though..."
He clears his throat.
"Where is the brothel?" He asks in broken elvish. "By to the sand-ocean-water," he answers himself in a lower voice. <sildanyari>
"Investigation, interrogation, getting some answers. Something." The bluejay says. There's a glance at Slix and Zofija, her condition slipped his mind. He sets the torch in a wall sconce, keeping hold of his other two. The wall is leaned against.
"Except now..." He shrugs, "It's either lying now or it was lying then, or it lies all the time. We didn't grab someone on the way to the loo. Zsofija has been here the entire time, it looks like, from how she looks. So it didn't escape, grab someone, and tie him back up, fooling both guards."
He pauses to catch his breath, "The Alexandrian guards have a horrible reputation, can't deliver messages, running their own scams, easily bribed to let demons through. Allegedly. The level of incompetence, to have a prisoner escape and replace itself with another prisoner, and they not notice... in a prison half a mile underground where there's not a lot of foot traffic."
"Or light."
Jay pushes off the wall, standing tall, his wings folding, unfolding, refolding. "So I want Cesseli back. We had a deal, allegedly, but I don't know that he'll really give him back when we have no leverage on his friends. They might already have the lockbox, I haven't been home. They... seem to know all about me, they should know about where I live then, could have easily broken in."
"Changed to look like me. Like they have been impersonating Mama Bula's Kids." He finishes his opening statement.
GAME: Slixvah rolls healing hex: aliased to 2d8+witch: (11)+6: 17
"Oh baloney, Muscles, shut ya pretty mouth," Slixvah chastises, scowling as one of the hands rests over Zofija's stomach. Wispy tendrils rake across skin, making a uncomfortable crawling sensation as injuries are shifted to be nothing more than bruises and superficial abrasions.
The healing magics is finished of with a pat-pat atop Zofija's head as she gives a scornful squint about drinking and bloodloss. No words needed for that. Tending tended, she turns to observe the bound figure, arms crossed as her wings ruffle behind her. Her head tracks Tegri as he goes about his rambling. No- not rambling. Building a case. Giving context. Laying it all out.
She frowns- it's in the eyes-, and says, "Know everythin' 'bout ya. Meanin' they've in the circle wit' tha kids fo' as long while. Or been keepin' eyes on ya and used ya face."
A shift to look at the- well- shifter. "So... like. Why?" she gestures vaguely. "What's dis box das so important to ya?"
The broken tongue of her people brings a smile to Patch's face. "Aww, aren't you just cultured. I actually understood that." she chimes, even wiggling a brow at the 'man'. "What are you really?" she asks herself in <Sylvan>, a giggle hidden behind a hand she quickly rises.
"Well, if I know one thing... it's that Zo-zo is a straight talker, and if they say it's not 'human', I will start there." Patch says firmly to Jay. "You might let some others try their hands first. Being a Voice... doesn't always mean I'm gentle."
Patch's attention seem to linger on the Box after Slixvah's words, bobbing her head in agreement. "As with all things, something is motivating them, a bit creepy as it is." a glance then tossed to Zofija. "Could you describe what it looked like when it was passed out?"
"I know, I know, I already got healed by the goblin cleric that was with us, but I'm pretty sure she needed to take off to make sure she wasn't paying the road and sewer crew for nothing." Zofija grunts once, before she looks to Integrity, and coughs. "Hey, it's clear they know a lot, but we don't know _how_ much they now, if you get what I mean? We don't know what they're capable of, but, you know."
"Like you know, they wouldn't have tried to bargain for the box if they had it, or already knew where it is. So be careful, alright? Not like this place is warded or anything."
The Arvek-nar looks to Patch, and nods. "Not really, didn't get a good look at it, and I was trying to stay concious at the time while making sure there was no funny business. Looked all wrinkled, had a bunch of weird holes in it's skin. And it mentioned something about a legion." They explain. "Jay called it a faceless stalker, they might know what it is better."
"... don't need no box? Got a perfek'ly good footlocker already..." mumbles the prisoner as he bounces his one good-eye across the room.
"'s all fascinatin' but quatermaster's gonna have me hide, so..." the old sailor lifts up his shackled hands again and offers a yellow-toothed smile. "Honest as the sea, I'm a man, says I... an' four-bells comes quick...
"You lubbers don't wanna see this poor rigger flogged, do ya?" He grins piteously and does his best to gesture at his wounds. "All'ready in a sorry state after that Ox-rumble..."
And the mention of 'faceless stalkers' he holds up the ball-shackles as if to point at his weather-beaten features.
"Yes. I want to know what it knows. What it knows that we know and all the other knows, I don't need." Integrity says, looking at Patch, "if you want to try your hands, sure! Human hands are stronger than Egalrin's, not as strong as Arvek Nars."
"Who are they or working for, What does the lockbox do, why the kids, is there something else about them, how did they find out about it."
The bluejay shrugs again, "but you see its answers. It knows what was on the note, but if its going to keep up its pretense it's can't let on. So you'd be better, Patch, as you don't know what it said so you're free." To make any kind of threats.
"I want Cesseli back, but if we can't arrange a trustworthy exchange, which probably would include knowing a bunch of those other answers. Well, there's no reason to be here, and we can just tell the mages to send someone with dispells and fireballs to do what they think appropriate."
GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (8)+6: 14 GAME: Patch rolls 1d20+2+2: (1)+2+2: 5 (EPIC FAIL) (Bardic Knowledge) GAME: Zofija rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (13)+4: 17 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30
Slix lets out a long sigh, her crossing her arms as she squints at the sailor. "Sugar, you're playin' ya cards so well ya loopin' back 'round ta not bein' believable. Bless your heart. Loo'. Blue here's got valid question fo' ya. And tha' betta ya answer, tha' better tha city deals wit' ya. You heard it yourself: the Watch sucks duck eggs. But we's knows them, and can make this sitch a lil' less cruddy fo' ya."
Her eyes flash briefly, a rare, sinister look crossing her features. "... or, if, tha's not good 'nuff. I could make one of your best assets... go away. How'd you like it if... your pretty little voice was just..."
She snaps her fingers.
"Oh." Patch says to Zofija in return, nodding as she ignores the pocked man's words. "I have heard that term before, and I recall some gossip over it all, but not much. So you sure its a creature?" she asks, an eye finding Integrity. "I am under the impression it isn't lying to me, and if I hadn't of been warned, I might of... called for it to be set free."
"Well, maybe not. I'd fear what he would take to the brothel, but... I find it convincing none the less." she says, turning to Slixvah and Zofija as she takes out her goblin army knife. "Does it respond to stimuli?"
GAME: Slixvah rolls bird diplomacy: aliased to diplomacy+3+3: (5)+8+3+3: 19
"Look, you can cut the act already, please do it, you'll save us all so much time and trouble."
"Why go through all the trouble of threatening death if we kill you, then when people are thinking of letting you go potentially, you clam up and start talking in tongues? If you're not going to be helpful either way, we could just kill you here and be done with it, you know."
The arvek-nar grumbles to herself, crosses her arms and settles back down into her seat.
The sailor listens to Slixvah, tipping his head to one side and finally shrugging. Then he grins at Patch-- only to look crestfallen when she questions his health.
Something Jay says makes the man laugh, a barked "har!" that produces a brief, dry coughing fit. He goes red in the cheeks-- his pimple-scars turning a darker shade-- but quickly recovers and catches his breath. "Ship's sailed, mayhap?" He smirks. "Don't know nothin', says I. I Bet my brawlin' pals just up and run-off't when I dropped in the Ox, yar? Sound like someone 'portant to you...?"
The older man considers the other egalrin and gives a 'hmm!' at her words. "Roust up fer me what you gave her--" he tips his head to the wonded Arvek Nar-- "or get a proper sawbones inn'ere. 'Less cruddy,' says'er." He puts on a face of mock terror. "Yarr, naw, not m'tavern-singing' career..!"
Zofija draws another shrug from the man and he shakes his bindings. "Where I sit trust stores is mighty low. Got a foot'n three toes in the deep dark'n you lubbers stash in... not inn'a proper lockup...
"Fishy, says I..."
GAME: Jay rolls bluff: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+3: (16)+3: 19
The bluejay nods, pulling aside his shirt to show a small circle of bloody feathers. He lets the lapel fall away, brushes at his arm feathers. "It is a creature. It sucked out a lot of my blood, cut Zofija, she was bleeding copiously. It doesn't have a face, hence 'Faceless'. It has swirls and slits, a remora-like mouth. Uninterrupted, in ten minutes it can change to look like something else. It's resistant to impacts, it's very rubbery. Cartlidge, like sharks, I think, not bone."
He shudders a bit, staring at Patch's knife. Perhaps that is why he feels so comfortable around her; she reminds him of Nemori. This thought leads to others, why would he feel -more- comfortable around maniac women with blades. It can't somehow be related to talon'd feet, can it? He glances at Slixvah. She uses a dagger in a lot of her magics. Hmm...
Jay touches his fingertips over his eyes, "Sorry. My mind wandered. It can't split into three, that I'm aware of, so ... well... they were expecting to be chased, they were expecting to be caught, they had notes prepared to bargain with. They also thought bargaining could be an option."
The l-eagal egalrin huffs, and folds his arms, "Seems that ship has sailed, it says. Wants to be in a proper lockup where it can more easily bamboozle it's way out. Low trust stores, on the money there. Clever, but not clever enough to figure we're the ones that need convincing. That it cares about it's life, that there's a way to get Cesseli back still."
GAME: Slixvah rolls healing hex: aliased to 2d8+witch: (5)+6: 11 (on jay) GAME: Slixvah rolls healing hex: aliased to 2d8+witch: (9)+6: 15 (on faceless stalker)
Slixvah peers over at Tegri as he shows off the wound, her brows raising high. "Eeewww... aight. Ya'll lovlies need ta /tell me/ when ya'll got freakin' boo boos before a /make more/ boo boos," she huffs at the l-egalrian. She ends up murmuring to herself, "It's free heal-estate, c'mon."
She steps up to Tegri, a hand glowing a pale white light with familiar tendrils wafting from it as she holds it out to him. She looks to Patch. Then up to the ceiling. "A brothel..." she echoes, letting that thought wander before giggling to herself and shaking her head. "They's convincing Patty, but they's doin' it /too/ well, ya dig?" A glance to the goblin knife, but she doesn't stop the elf.
She meets eyes with Jay before turning to the sailor. "Aight. Blue here's got good points. I'm going to- on good faith- fix ya up a bit like you want. But give us somethin' ta work with after I do it. Because I ain't no god, but I can giveth, and I can sure as sin taketh away."
Her other hand glow a pale white light, and brushes against the prisoner.
GAME: Patch rolls Perform/sing: (19)+9: 28, "Bluff. :)"
Patch is busy fiddling with the small levers on her knife, finding a piece of wall to occupy as the others take up some time with talking. "I do have a few tests I can run." her eyes flicking up to Integrity as she catches him staring at the knife, smiling broader in return to the bluejay. "Damn, got you real good." stepping a bit away so Slixvah can tend that wound too.
"There you go being nice, and ruining my fun, Slix. Just give me a minute, and I'll be all set. I mean, it's not like the thing is willing to admit much, but it does know how to string the words together well. Eventually somewhere in what's about to come... it'll realize cooperating might of been better." Patch says, seemingly serious as she continues her prep. "Yeah, no. Do keep it occupied. Let it waste more time."
It might be a half-bluff, but Patch is stilll sent laughing because of Slixvah and Zofija.
"I'll tell you next time, but I got healed, I'm just tired mostly." The arvek-nar shrugs. "I'm getting real confused why it's even trying to keep up a charade here. Honestly. Of course, there's two others out there, as well."
"Like you know, Jay, did you even hire a guard for this place? I don't know anything about that gnome outside." The arvek-nar asks. "Less you want to just take a smaller hammer than usual and see how one of their hands or legs react to getting smashed."
The prisoner shudders and sighs at Slixvah's touch, tension smoothing out of his face as the wounds close over with pink, pimply flesh before settling down to match the rest of his tanned and tattooed skin.
"Because I'm fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucking bored," he finally sighs in a different voice. It's an eerie, wind-whistling whisper. He glances over at Jay and shakes his head. "You took your sweet time and left me with a real conversationalist... and the snoring."
An annoyed look is given to the arvek nar. "I think your nose is broken.
"And I don't know what these veiled threats are but, Garm's balls... more flies with honey."
He drops his arms down between his knees and the manacles fall off one after the other, his hands unfold from smushed cylinders and retake a normal hand-shape as he flexes his fingers.
"Money, by the way. Money. The lockbox is valuable to people. Who wants it? Who cares as long as they have money." He reaches up and scratches at his neck, closing his eyes and sighing with relief. "Aaaaaah--'nd you can have the kobold back tomorrow all together or over the span of the next tenday in pieces.
"We wouldn't be in this situation if our paralytic wasn't faulty," he wheezes, annoyed.
It wasn't long, just the time it took Jay to grab a watchperson, then get the girls. The Faceless stalker is complaining about being alone with Zofi.
"I grabbed a watchperson, to sit with you Zofija." Jay replies, pulling on his vest and aiming his tailfeathers low. "I'm not used to sprint-flying. I perch at a desk all day."
"And you are terrible at negotiating contracts. You didn't recognize yesterday that you were dealing with four independent contractors, not a hierarchical structure, and that any contract I entered wasn't necessarily binding with the others."
Integrity slaps the floor with a talon'd foot, "And a creative bargainer would have noticed that you haven't detailed if you want the lockbox intact, unopened, complete with contents. I could open it and return it empty, or even smashed and that would fulfill the -expressed- requirements. Sure, it is implied, intact, like we want Cesseli back, intact, and not in pieces. But! Not stated, only implied. You could drive a galleon through that."
His beak turns, gazing at Slixvah, just to look at her, before facing the stalker again, "Also a skilled enough Cleric could bring him back from death with enough pieces, wouldn't even have to go to ten-day, but I wouldn't want to subject a friend to that."
"Nemori would be so much better at this. No one believes she has friends." Or that she cares for them. He produces a notepad, a feather-pen, he's got them everywhere, "So you want the lockbox, unopened, with original contents. The free negotiation advice. So, clearly we're not giving it to you and letting you wander off, so where can we find your friends to give it to them?"
Slixvah adjusts her white gloves as she raises a brow to the prisoner before snorting at Patch. "Someone's gotta be tha nice one befo' tha bad is used. Tha' guy's right: catch mo' wit' honey."
She listens to Jay and the prisoner, before her attention rips over to the clanging of metal. Blink blink. She's looking back at Jay with a bewildered expression. "Yo, like, uh," she looks to everyone else, a bit on edge. "Guys...?"
Gesturing vaguely at the restraints being gone.
"I count me not getting a turn as a success." Patch muses, a final lever adjusted and flicked in the long process of getting to the tool she wants. Raising it to her lips, she aims it at the creature, eyes narrowing as she blows hard and threateningly into the mouthpiece. She was about to blow hard into it when Slixvah's words hit her ears, eyes going wide and she half-chokes. Kwaa----*cough*---*hak* the worse sounding duck call being produced as she is now alerted to the freedom the prisoner has, and looking to the others. "Well, we really are bad at this, aren't we?"
"Sorry, some nutjob had a bunch of golems filled with blood rake broken glass through my chest, so you'll have to excuse me if I'm not sleeping too soundly." Zofija grunts, shooting a glare at the prisoner. "Flies with honey you know, it requires an actual willingness to communicate. If you want honey, you need to not piss off the bees, or they'll be too busy stinging the shit out of you to get any work done."
"Or we could just pay you whatever you were offered to get this damn box, and you can be on your way. Because I'm not sure I trust whoever's hiring people to kidnap folk to get what they want in life, you know?"
Jay isn't half-done speaking before the prisoner is sitting forward with his eyes screwed shut, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "You're..." he sits back. The way his voice is now, it just sounds like one, long, articulate sigh. It might be.
"Semantics. We're not getting married or annexing Blar; this level of detail isn't required." A hand drags down his borrowed feature as he rolls his eyes back down and stares at Jay. "If they aren't happy, the bookworm gets it. It's very, very simple.
"Again... I think we're on backup plan... four? Five?" He gestures around at the makeshift cell. "Not my ideal Eliday night.
"An aside: if you're in the market for Veyshanti jellyfish toxin, forget it. This year's harvest works about as well as the fifth leg on a gelding.
"So..!" he braces his hands on his knees and leans forward, though he doesn't stand yet. "I think I'll have my things and go. I'll touch bases with my people and we can get back to you. You can keep the haver-ring (lucky you) and I'll see if I can't negotiate a day before the first toe comes off the little lizard..?
"The brothel, by the way. My ideal Eliday night." He clicks his tongue and makes positive gesture.
GAME: Jay rolls sense motive: (8)+11: 19 GAME: Jinks rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
He's being dishonest but maybe not in the expected way. He's not suuuuper confident he can do any of the things he's offering. He actually might be a little scared about what'll happen to him after he leaves.
No one else has gone missing, yet. Kerry-Anne was impersonated, Tamzin was grabbed, but they failed to kidnap her and got only her jacket. A reason for lamenting the jellyfish toxin; everyone has resisted it. Since then, the kids have made a point of not going anywhere alone. Cesseli ended up a target as he's more easily isolated. He's not really one of their crew, only in the employ of Mama Bula.
Egalrin eyes glint, peering closely at the stalker, evaluating non-existent plumage. "Well, point, it's not negotiating in Blar, where the Orcs can get very 'letter of the agreement'. We're still back to first base."
"We don't trust you. You don't trust us. You've not given us any reason to do so, no information we don't already know, and you're asking us to let you go and trust you to come through on the agreement."
Integrity leans a little closer, "Are you sure you can do the things you're offering? That they won't assume you -have- told us everything you could, and just kill you and screw us?"
"If you're not sure, why should we be?" He spreads his wings, "I'm looking for an alternate arrangement, perhaps with a prisoner exchange. You with the lockbox taped to your back. Or to a key to another lockbox, that's closer to where you end up after the prisoner's are exchanged."
Jay finds set of ancient, corroded gears to put a foot on top of, then leans on it. Staring. "She had a good point about the bees."
to be continued...
