The Chosen
It's dark and cold. Snow falls from the sky easily and yet practically invisibly given how dark it is. There's clouds up there in the sky somewhere but you can't see them. It's really a fairly miserable night to be out and about, but it could be worse. You've gathered together with good purpose after all. Namely that Patch has called for a little aid in a more... subtle endevor.
A man by the name of Dace Zinskas has been performing miracles of late. Things that a normal person would not be capable of. So you're out here in the cold hoping you can find one of his followers and get them to tell you more about him.
Covered in a number of ratty, second hand brown and tan robes is that of an egalrin woman of rust red and white feathers. Dirt stains her wings and feathers. Patch called to be subtle, so subtle she shall be, looking like a street urchin, once beribboned wings wrapped up in burlap to keep them safe and warm from the drifting snow.
Slixvah clutches a wrought iron cup with a few clanking copper coins in it against her chest. There exists a mildly wild look to her eyes, trying to count the clinking coinage as she goes in an idle gait.
Subtlety isn't always Cor'lana's strong suit--but tonight she's trying to blend in. The high-collared, long cotton dress and the brown cloak she's wearing have been nipped at many times over by Pothy (he tried to help!), giving them a worn-down appearance while aiding in anonymizing the sorceress's appearance. Given that Pothy isn't with her tonight, it's about as invisible as she's going to get, without turning invisible.
Which, well, that is still in the cards, but it's not one she's going to play immediately. The hood is drawn up over her face as she makes her way past the disguised Slixvah.
It could be argued that gray with gray accents and gray accessories might be subtle and inconspicuous. For some, however, it would, be an identifying feature. Therefor, logic dictates the reverse. Unfortunately, some have a rather limited wardrobe. Thus it is that Verna arrives garbed in something borrowed, yet distinctly not blue.
A full layered dress in red covers most of her person. Long gloves protect her hands from the chill and a long coat overlays both for additional layers to block the wind. In lieu of a hood, a simple hat covers her head and ears along with all of her hair.
Zyla can move quietly, but when you are a large giantborn, hard to be subtle. She is trying her best. It is cold out, so she got a couple ideas. She is wearing a hooded cloak that has seen better days and then has a couple ratty old blankets wrapped around her. It hides her robes though so she at least looks like she might belong in the area.
Patch had called for subtlety, but even then she wears a catching color. Her discount cloak is maroon, and shows signs of having been patched, The holes decoratively covered, as if someone took care for what little they owned and wanted to make it last. Hand embroidery of leaves is what was chosen. The rest? A stained shirt that looks to have seen labor, and a pair of trousers with a hole in the knee. Her boots look cheap, frayed, and barely hanging together. Those are her favorite part. She made them to look like that! Well, modified.
The bard dusts off the excess snow gathering on her disguise, looking to those who chose to answer her with little notice. Albeit, nervously. "Now don't be upset if it turns out to be nothing. I just have hope it's the real deal." she says, though she's not talking about the 'savior/messiah'. She's taking a head count, surprised at who all answered her call. "I just heard this name, and the tale was good enough not to pass up." her words a bit hushed, conspiratorial. "But thank you all for coming. It means a lot."
It almost physically hurt Schara to ruin their perfectly good armor for the sake of fitting in with the populace of the area, but if subtlety was required while still being capable of providing assistance, then they would need to do such. The bronze figure was looking much more weathered, bronze covered in a patina of dark browns and greens, and they creaked slightly as they walked, one brown lens replaced with a cracked one they had ruined during testing, and the mouthpiece of their helmet flickered faintly in spite of a lack of talking. Their grandiose fur lined cloak was left behind.
"Apologies, I have no coin to offer if you need any." They apologize to the egalrin, their voice even more static filled than usual. "I am happy to help, if there are clerics that are trying to take advantage of people in the area, they need to be brought in line."
There's a surprising number of people out this late. A pair of dock workers who look like they're headed for a bar. A gentleman who drops a silver coin into Slixvah's tin while stepping neatly around to avoid her. A group of three children playing in the snow like it's the last day on Ea to do so. A woman sits on the corner, offering to read palms of those passing by.
Slix quirks her head to the side in a half listening, half frustrated manner. "What. What? I'm just here fo' the bidness, I gots five coppa! Tha's enough fo' a miracle! I'm not here 'cause I like you or anything!" she grates.
There's a fast wink.
There's a frown at the armored figure. "How dare ya ain't give me nothin'!" she huffs at them as a man drops a silver into her tin. Slix turns to them, "Oh /thank ya/ sugar! Gods grace upon ye!"
"Of course," Cor'lana replies to Patch's words. Granted, she doesn't have quite the disguise that Slixvah has, but... maybe she'll improvise something along the way. "You know I can't turn down your calls for aid. Couldn't sleep at night if I did."
Her mouth--the one thing that can be seen below the hood--presses together as she looks around. She gestures vaguely in the direction of the woman reading palms and whispers to Patch, "How about her? Palm readers tend to keep track of spiritual figures, don't they?"
She briefly looks in the direction of Verna wearing a rather familiar set of clothes, but... She chooses not to comment. Not immediately.
Verna looks over the area and its occupants; she takes note of the latter and attempts to familiarize herself with the former. If her appearance is disguised-yet-not-inconspicuous, her genuine lack of knowledge in this particular neighborhood fits well, at the least. The mild cacophony from Slix draws her steps towards so that a dull copper coin can be added to Slix's cup. "For your chance at miracles you might need." The Egalrin may also be one of the first she recognized.
"It's busy." Patch observes, nodding to Cor'lana. She draws the hood up over her features and keeps forward to obscure parts of her face. "I didn't expect so many people to still be stirring." she admits, huddling in the cold as her breath shows it with a puff of vapor. "But, if they sit here and work their spiritual magics all day, they might know 'something." she agrees. "We're looking for Dace Zinsakas. He's not registered with a temple, but he's supposed to be 'talented'." the inflection on the word enough to show she's suspect of him. "I didn't want to go alone."
GAME: Patch rolls knowledge/local: (20)+10: 30
"Well, I do not want any blessings in return for coin, so perhaps it is best that I do not." Schara notes, reaching into the cup and pulling out the silver coin, flicking it once before tossing it back in. "Just confirming that the reason they are leaving in a hurry and are keeping a wide berth is because they dislike poor people, that is all."
"I am not here for any miracles, but if we need to investigate it, then I shall do so." They correct to Patch. "I wouldn't be surprised if it's a cover up to take advantage of those in need, after all."
The palm reader notices the gentleman and Verna, and seems to ponder between the two before motioning urgently to Verna. "Come here! Come here darling! There's a dark aura about you, perhaps I can help yes? Help you divine what secrets you need know to stave off Vardama and live a happy life!"
"Yes, Schara." Patch muses. "But, for the 'looking' we need to pretend to be looking for miracles." Patch points out before taking a long look about the alley. "Cor'lana, the old woman's good for gossip, but she's got a soul for business. She'll likely want coin, so I will deal with her if someone wants to accompany me." the coin not seeming to be an issue.
"Unless Cor'lana wants to. I thought it best to let my Sister talk to the children. They're always good for information, and she's more likable than I am." a grin. "The dock workers? I don't know how easily they'll talk."
Cor'lana does look over to the children, and... She does smirk a little under that hood. "Yes, all that time spent with Pothy means I do know how to talk to children, I suppose," she replies. Of course, she's not giving herself much credit for helping to find the lost little boy from the other day. "I'll be back."
She steps out over to the children playing in the snow. Brightly, she calls out, "Hi! Can I play, too?" She's a bit big compared to them, but you never know.
Dark aura? That could simply be Verna's complexion... or perhaps her innate knowledge of of negative energy. Not that she offers any of these explanations, of course. She is incognito. Instead, she turns towards the beckoning woman and approaches. "You could help?" she inquires with curiosity that is not wholly feigned. "I do wish to enjoy a long and happy life..."
Slix clacks her beak at Schara as they reach into her cup. "Oi, get ya grubby hands outta my cup," she hisses, catching the coin out of the air and shoving it back in. There's a thankful nod towards Patch as she brushes past her. "Thanks, blessin's upon ye!"
Winds shift.
And the 'beggar' is watching the palm reader with vested interest from aside, forming a small crowd of one. Of course the disguised fortune witch is going to watch fortunes!
"I am checking to make sure that the person who left the coin is hurrying off due to disliking the poor, and not because they wish to be far away when something happens. If someone's arm melts off because of a trapped donation, it would be better if it was mine. It's replaceable." Schara repeats, taking a look around, and nodding. "I could pretend to mug someone at knife point out of desperation, only to be whisked off into the seedy underbelly of the district by recruiters from some nefarious guild with resources to track down who we are looking for. But I do not think I am a good enough actor for that. Nor do I think going to have my palms read would help, they would think I am already dead, or something."
Patch smirks as Verna is selected by the fortuneteller, abandoning her plan to go herself. This is better, and it allows her to sit back and watch. Lazy, but needed. A side-eye is flashed to Cor'lana and the children. She'll just keep watch. In the cold. The one drawback to this bit of fun.
The kids stop in their play long enough to give Cor'lana a suspicious look. All of them wear practically identical looks. "I don't know. She's an adult!"
One of the children pushes the one that spoke up and looks at Cor'lana. "You can help put the roof on." She points to the igloo that they're making. Its construction leaves much to be desired, but there's obviously real effort put into it.
The fortune teller nods eagerly. "Yes, something hunts you, I can almost see it!" She offers her hand to Verna. "Give me your hand child, your hand and a simple silver piece to fill this old woman's belly."
Zyla has gotten mostly quiet and is mostly just watching things as she moves around, looking like her movements are mostly done to help her keep warm insider her blankets.
"Ooh, I'm really good at putting the roof on!" Cor'lana replies with a grin. This is a lie that is very enthusiastically told, because Cor'lana has never even built a pretend-roof. But... Surely it's not so hard. It's just a roof for an igloo.
So she dives into the work, gathering up snow in her mitten-covered hands and compacting it together. Carefully. Thoughtfully. "What're your names?" she asks the children.
Verna pauses briefly at the woman's words. It is more the second sentence that causes the reaction than the first, and she partially turns to glance behind her. Wait, she said that she could 'almost see it.' Turning back, her brows are lifted in curiosity as she retrieves a silver coin from her pouch to offer it and her hand, coin held in her open palm. "What hunts me? What is it you see?"
Patch grins to Zyla, stepping towards her as she kicks a bit of snow. "Sorry, normally I introduce myself before belching orders." Patch says, offering a hand to the robed woman. "I'm called Patch." she offers, looking to Slixvah and Schara as they are side-lined for now too. "I don't know your face, but if you came to answer, I am glad to have you." a smile flashed as she takes a moment to greet the face she doesn't know.
"Just keep an eye out for the weird. When we're done I'll treat you to a hot drink somewhere. All of you." Patch says with a grin.
Urchin Slixvah side eyes the disheveled armored figure with a frown. "Hey. Tin can, if I got a cup that does that, I wouldn't be fuckin' standin' out here, now would I?"
She pulls out a copper piece from her cup and chucks it at Schara, aiming to ding it off metal. "Here, payin' the toll to keep that bullshit to yourself. If they hates the poor, then they hates and fuck right off. Keep ya metal nose outta shit."
Which is the complete opposite of what they are actually doing, getting their nose in everything. Slix is just playing her part of the cranky beggar. She goes back to watching the palm reader with interest, though a stink eye is thrown towards Schara now and then.
Zyla nods her head to Patch, "Zyla, I am the muscle." she mutters keeping it soft and pulling the blankets closer to hide what she is wearing underneath. She smiles to Patch ad then nods as she does keep her eyes open.
"You should compact the snow after adding it to the igloo." Schara suggests. "Unless you plan on molding the parts beforehand, in which case you should have a waterskin on hand for gluing the pieces together, otherwise they will not attach properly."
"Well. I am sorry for attempting to look out for your health. I do hope that no one will try to harm you while you are out here, still." The artificer sighs, creaking more as they stoop down to pick up the copper coin. "I do not understand. What muscle? There are a lot of muscles in a body, you can not be just one. No matter what you do, you are using more than one muscle group at a time."
The girl, who is clearly in charge, directs the other two children to keep work up on the igloo, setting to work herself making a snowball. "That's Sal, that's Churro, and I'm Nata." She rolls the ball on the ground diligently to gather more snow onto it. "What's your name?"
The old woman takes Verna's hand eagerly, the coin disappearing off of it as her hands take Verna's one. She peers over the hand with interest and she hums. "You are a scholar yes milady? Your hand tells me it is so. You spend your time among the books of the world, and yet something dark marks your steps. And this is not the first time. No. You've braved the wicked before, but this time! This time it is different. You need aid milady."
Patch says, "It's a saying, Schara." Patch muses, the artificer's picking of language earning a laugh. "It means Zyla's our strong woman. More physical than magical." or so she gathered from the introduction. Slixvah's act is smiled at, appreciated. It's more she is letting the situations play out.
Here of Patch's ears twitches, something of the show Verna is sucked into noted, a brow furrowed as she tried not to spoil their cover by laughing from that conversation. "We all need help. At least she's not wrong." but not being wrong is different than being accurate. For the moment, green eyes watch, wait, as she tries not too let the cold seep in too deep. Is it getting colder?
Verna has never had her palm read, her fortune told, nor even an indulgent manicure. Her only expectations were some form of verbal chicanery or vague mentions open to convenient interpretation. This is... well, yes, it could still fall under that purview... and yet earnest intrigue creeps into her thoughts. What simple divinations might provide such information? Simple as the focus required to perform such without gesture and incantation, both, would be taxing. Does this woman, instead, recognize her? Know her? Are there truly some traces of all this apparent upon her hand that can be read by those both perceptive and educated in such craft?
So many threads of thought leave few strands for her voice. She nods rather reflexively. "Yes, I... How did you... What aid do you recommend? What should I do?"
"Nice to meet all of you," Cor'lana replies, still grinning. "You can call me... Rave!" As in Rave-n. Very original stuff, but maybe it'll get a giggle and a "what kind of name is that!?" out of the kids.
At Schara's advice, Cor'lana... decides to lean into the part a bit. "Y'think I got enough coin for a waterskin? We got it handled." Totally have it handled, except for the part where Cor'lana's overthinking the roof and is probably going slower than the kids might like. It's her first time playing in the snow with other kids who /aren't/ bullying her, after all.
Zyla nods and just shakes her head. She smiles and keeps her eyes open, she heard what had been going on and it was a chance at battle so she did come. She just watches for strange things.
GAME: Verna rolls bluff: (18)+3: 21
Urchin Slix rolls her eyes at Schara. "You're hopeless," she disregards, leaving Schara alone as she glance to Patch. "Uh. Yeah. It's night, gets cold all the freakin' time. Go yank a tarp off some stuff down by the docks if ya wanna get more warm. Or grow feathers and be aight like a champ."
She thumbs her beak before turning towards the fortune telling. Her head tilts to the side slowly, a hand in her now two silver and four copper rich cup, fingers playing with the change. Was this something new? Or were they full of... grey snow. "... huh."
The girl looks up at Cor'lana's 'name', but to Cor'lana's surprise - none of the kids comment on her name. Instead they look up at Schara's advice and simultaneously stick their tounges out at her and make 'neyeeeha' sounds. "Yea! We've got it handled!" One of the boys says, looking like he might throw a snowball at Schara. He quickly decides against the waste of snow when Nata looks at him though.
The old woman closes her eyes as her bony finger traces a line on Verna's hand. They snap open a moment later. "I see a man! I see a man with such eyes. Not brown, but blue? No! Green. Green like emeralds! He is the one that hunts you. Yet I can not see what it is that he wants. You must take council milady. You must draw up aid where you can find it..." She hefts a sigh. "Yet I am tired... Perhaps if I had enough silver for a room tonight..."
Patch shakes her head at the conversation with a fortune teller from a distance. "Sly." she comments with a grin, shifting to pace a bit to try and keep warm as she waits. It's frustrating, but too many people might draw attention. It was rumored he's aloof, and so it could take some time. "Some might go to the docks and speak to the hands, but my experience is they tend to be tight lipped." trying to offer the others 'something'. "Though maybe some lashes, and some kind words will melt their hearts?" it's joke. Partially. Ideas at least.
Partway through building, Cor'lana asks, "Hey, do any of you three know an adult? He's apparently a preacher? Performs miracles and cool things like that? And a really funny sounding name, like... Dace? Dace Zinskas?"
Her gaze settles on Nata, since she seems to be the de-facto leader, but then she gets back to packing snow on. No reason to upset her pint-sized boss!
"So be it, it seems my advice is neither needed, or wanted. You are like the egalrin with the cup here, I am just trying to offer help, so it does not collapse on you." The artificer huffs, turning their attention back to the palm reader. "I am not less hopeful coming here than I was before, do not worry." They note. "You will not get good answers from her if she is stressed from meeting her needs, it is true."
Grimy Slixvah tsks. "Tight lipped. Until ya get booze in 'em. Then they don't eva shut up. But ya prolly could loosen em up a bit," she babbles to Patch, wanting to joke with her, but having to keep that annoyed at life facade up.
Still, the suggestion makes her glance to the fading men heading to a bar. Backup plan. Smart thinking Patty.
The palm reading gets a brow raise from the egalrin, unsure of how true these things are, but Vernen Alexandro seems keen on knowing more, and has the most rapport with the palm reader. She rattles her cup. "Yo, lemme know what's good, lady. If she's gettin chased, I wanna stay the hell away from it."
Verna studies the woman with a mixture of curiosity and doubt as she closes her eyes, though the ratio of the two has changed starkly in the past few moments. When she comments further, Verna blinks (and the slider moves further). Is her involvement in current events so common knowledge (which is concerning all on its own)? Is this woman blessed with sight by the divine? Was there a new issue of the Crimson Pen released of which Verna is unaware?
So many relevant mentions provoke more questions. Too many for coincidence in her mind. Her non-held hand fumbles in her pouch for further coin and pushes a gold to the woman. If her comparative finery was planned to make Verna an inviting target, she seems to be playing into that role well. Intentional or otherwise. "Please, I would hear more. Council from whom? Aid from where? There are many concerns and consequences of poor choices..."
It's Sal that speaks up. "I know him! But Mom says it's rude to call him that." The boy looks solemnly at Cor'lana. "She says that the REAL faithful call him Augur of Dreams. He's important so he gets a special name." He glances at Nata and gets back to piling snow on.
Nata is nodding however, looking at Sal to make sure he's hard at work and looks at Cor'lana. "He's right. Even my dad knows and he don't know nothing."
The old woman gasps at the sight of gold and it too disappears. "There's only one for you dearie. Find the Augur of Dreams. He can give you what none other can. It's true! He's outside the city tonight, you'll find him in the slums where the poor gather. He's got a tent of pure white where he can be found. Go there and you'll find what you need."
"Huh, guess I was worrying for nothing." Patch's smile returning. "I never said I was good with the concept of patience." she muses, pulling the maroon cloak tighter. Leads are good. This is what they came for. Success. So far. "Let us wait for them to be done, and then we shall see."
"Oh, huh--I guess that's pretty neat that he has a special name. I didn't know," Cor'lana says thoughtfully, like a child might. It's a partial truth--she really didn't know--but she has to sell the innocence to the children, just in case they're acting as eyes and ears for other people. "Well, thank you for telling me."
She pats down some more snow. "Oooh, hold on, I think I saw something cool over there," she says... And then she walks away, 'looking' in the snow as she walks back over to Patch. She gives her sister a covert thumbs-up, indicating she has information.
Zyla just listens and tries not to make it seem like she is paying attention.
Verna blinks once more at the information, now with a mixture of surprise and something of a returned awareness to the present. A lead was the goal, yes? Yes, yes it was. It is valid information... and yet there is a mild hint of disappointment. "I understand. You have my thanks for your wisdom and insight. I hope that you can fill your belly and find rest, both, tonight."
The old woman's revelation makes Slixvah groan and turn away. "Babblin' nonsense," she grumbles, pulling her brown robe tighter as her wrapped wings nestle in. There's a show of counting what's in her cup before grumbling about 'barely enough for bread and bed' before ambling lazily away.
Vaguely in the direction towards the slums. A glance is shot towards Patch, the frustrated, wild look in her eyes gone for a blink as there's that giddy playfulness. But it's just for a moment before her 'annoyance' comes back and she's grumbling to herself again.
"So that is where they can be met? excellent, thank you for letting us know. I am sorry I can not have my palms read, but it sounds interesting, with a lot of useful information from it. Thank you for your time miss, and I hope you will find a good place to stay tonight. The artificer offers politely.
The children don't try to stop Cor'lana, trusting that she'll either be back to aid them... and if not then they've a lot of work to do on their igloo!
Meanwhile the little old lady rises to her feet chuckling. "I will at that!" She says easily and warmly, heading away from Verna and toward the alley behind her. She stops a few feet away to look at Verna. "One more thing, and this is for free. The Gray Lady says not to let go of Pride; you'll need it. Whatever that means."
There's a brightness in her eyes, a sort of wicked cleverness that is swept away when she hobbles down the alleyway and into the dark.
"So that is where they can be met? excellent, thank you for letting us know. I am sorry I can not have my palms read, but it sounds interesting, with a lot of useful information from it. Thank you for your time miss, and I hope you will find a good place to stay tonight. The artificer offers politely.
Verna starts to turn from the woman, though pauses as she pivots back to make the complimentary addition. Verna's brow knits at this news. The Gray Lady and Her words hold no small importance to her, though the latter is ... as the woman stated 'whatever that means.' She nods. "My thanks, yet again." Verna completes her pivot to begin moving towards Slix before looking about again for the others whom she lost track of with the reading.
"The children said he goes by the Auger of Dreams," Cor'lana whispers to Patch. "That's what his faithful know him as first and foremost." A sly smile finds her face. "We should head there. But first, I need to give payment to my sources..."
She reaches into her cloak and produces a little bag of candies. These would have been Pothy snacks, but, well, life has other plans. "I found the cool thing!" Cor'lana says to the children. "It's candy! But I have to go do boring adult things now--catch!" She tosses the bag to Nata--surely the boss'll distribute the candy.
Patch sighs to herself as it all seems to be coming together. It's relief. Slixvah's and Cor'lana seem to brighten her mood with assurances, and news. As Cor'lana flashes the treats, the bard cannot help but give and approving nod. "While I am excited for that news, the name is worrisome." her smile not faltering, but there is some hesitation in her tone. "Come, let's catch up to Verna and the others." her concern now being to usher the party together. "I was shooting an arrow into the dark, and now I'm afraid I actually hit something." admitting that she'd not expected a totem to be here.
"I guess it's best I am surrounded by friends. We will see what it all brings. Together." a wink shot back at Slixvah. "Thank you. All of you."
Urchin Slix looks over her shoulder, past a wing to stare at Schara. Just stares. A lot wishes to be said, but this isn't the time to say it, and clear 'we'll talk later' is squinted at them before she huffs and turns back away, resuming her amble down the street as others gather themselves. Her pretending to not know them, as well as get out of this place with the information in her noggin'.
Once get get enough away, her annoyed visage drops and a smiling crinkle of the eyes is given to Patch. "We got ya Patty, don't worry! Ya very welcome, honey."
GAME: Slixvah rolls will: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Verna rolls will: (13)+24: 37 GAME: Zyla rolls will: (18)+7: 25 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Will: (16)+12: 28 GAME: Patch rolls will+1: (2)+6+1: 9 GAME: Schara rolls will: (3)+2: 5
You head outside the city, and somehow it's colder out here away from the torches lighting the streets. Darker too. You find the slums on the edge of the city. A little miniature city grown up where people have been displaced and then refused to move when things got easier. For some, this is the only home they've ever known. There are an inordinate amount of children. You look for a white tent, and realize that amid the browns, grays, and dirty-off-white that it will not be difficult. Thankfully you're right. You locate the tent easily enough.
Inside are a number of people, all of them feverently on their feet, and it's quite warm from body heat. Through the bodies you can make out that there are three figures in the front. One of them is talking, a deep booming voice that rocks the tent even through the yells of the crowd.
"What do you want?"
"MIRACLES!" Yells the body of worshipers, some of them jumping up and down.
"Settle down, settle down. Let me see who's here. Let me pick the Chosen!"
The crowd cheers outrageously and settles down into their seats - which is bare ground, but they don't seem to care. This allows you at last a view of those in the front. One of the men is obviously Stormguardian by heritage. He is a huge man, with piercing green eyes and a cassock without any holy symbol on it. On either side of him are two others, but they aren't men. They're divine beings. Wings and glowing light surrounding their features in such a way that you can hardly look at them.
GAME: Patch rolls knowledge/the planes: (15)+9: 24
Cor'lana enters the tent with the group, although she has to get on her tiptoes to try and see around the crowd--that is, until they all settle down onto the ground. She quickly follows suit, only so that she isn't immediately picked out from the crowd as an imposter among the faithful.
But when she finally gets a good look at the man and his 'divine beings', Cor'lana's violet eyes go wide. "Those aren't angels," she murmurs to her allies, urgency in her voice. "Something is very wrong here. /Very/ wrong. We need to do something!"
Slix bundles up a bit more as the chill sets in. Yes, she's a walking down blanket, but that only works so well to a point. Hmm... maybe she should research into something that makes the winter easier to deal with...?
Oh. We made it. Idle musings sped up the process, but just before they step in to see the throng of people, she mutters an incantation, pulls a feather out, and crushes it into a poof.
"Establishing communications," a lovely voice whispers to the group. "Gonna get crowded."
As she steps in, her eyes widen at the display. And the otherworldly beings. "... oh. My. Uh. This is almost...-"
She stops, in the crowd, a stillness in her wings is felt. "... Patty, you good?" she whispers along the spell. "My mojo ain't on ya no mo. Lanny's got the gut feelin' I do."
GAME: Slixvah casts Message. Caster Level: 6 DC: 15
Schara nods and leaves with the rest, content to find the person they were looking for now that they had an idea of where to look. They stop once they reach the camp, where they look to the others and shrug, the shoulders stopping before falling rigidly. "They look like angels to me, what I can see at least. What has you so worked up?" They ask.
"Why would Astral Deva's be here?" Patch says in a hushed tone towards Slixvah using her message spell. She'd been excited to find this place, but Cor'lana and her words send a chill down her spine. "What do you mean they're not angels!" her confusion evident as she turns to look between Slixvah and Cor'lana dumbfounded. "Why wouldn't I be fine?" she asks, but she does seem confused. At least Schara sees them. "See, Schara sees them as Deva's too." seemingly convinced.
Zyla cocks her head to the side and mutters to herself. She has seen at least something like this before, and the situation doesn't look good, if they just leap in there, the crowd will probably come to their aid. She shakes off the cloudiness in her head a little and isn't sure what to do at the moment. She frowns and glances around a little at the others.
Verna is hopeful as they approach the tent. All that she was told, while mostly vague, could not have been mere wit and words. There was too much truth within it. There has to be an explanation, and the last mention has her belief high as to the origin of such knowledge.
And then she steps into the tent and witnesses the extraplanar beings, themselves. Here, in the flesh.
And the happy feeling is gone. A very probably explanation is now apparent, and it is not what she had begun to actually believe.
Yet the cheers do not fit until the others comment, where connections are made, hypotheses formed. She looks to Cor'lana and then to Patch and Schara to note tight-lipped "They are beings not of this plane, but they are most certainly not of the -higher- planes..."
Those standing in the back certainly draw attention, and the green eyes of the man leading the congregation roams over all of you with curiosity. "New faithful? Have a seat. Join us." His eyes linger on each person standing and falls finally on Verna. "Save you. Come here." He motions for her to come closer. The crowd makes disappointed noises but finally claps and encourages Verna forward.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Bluff: (4)+20: 24
Slix's back feathers stand up as she's almost singled out. "A-Ahaha, yes, yes, of course!" she enthuses, slipping forward with her tin cup quietly rattling and taking a seat in the back.
A glance to Verna as she's singled out. Her throat bobs. A quiet whisper murmurs, "I agree with Vern. It's all wrong. Play along, keep ya head on straight. I've got ya back."
The dirty witch rubs her throat.
Cor'lana makes a face. Not Verna. Not Verna! The last time at the Temple of Vardama was too much. She'd made vows to one of her dearest friends to prevent such a thing from ever happening again. She'd have to think fast...!
Oh. /Oh./
"DREAMS!" Cor'lana screams from her seat, rising up. "I was sent here, Auger! I saw your face last night in my dreams! Portents! Voices! The faces of your mighty devas, haunting me in my sleep. My wretched soul will know no relief until I know your blessing! Take me and not her!"
She's... admittedly trying too hard. "Subtlety is lost on the performer" would be her review if she was an actress in the Theatre District. But... here Cor'lana is anyway.
As Verna is called out, and Cor'lana makes her move, Patch can't help but raise a hand to stop from laughing. "Green eyes." is squeaked from behind her hand to the Vardaman as she sits. Quickly too. No, she's not chancing being called next. Not when there is another mystery to puzzle over. A worrying one.
Patch's focus going back to what the others have said, addressing Slixvah. "Either I'm not seeing right, or something is wrong." Patch says in a huff, eyes seeking through the crowd and up towards its leader. Those 'outsiders' that are with him given a suspect glance too. "What do they look like to you? Winged? Tall?" letting the more seasoned act as bait.
Schara is trying very hard to not blow the cover of everyone else. Even if they didn't know what the creatures were, if the others weren't able to explain, they would just have to trust their judgment for the time being as they took a seat near the back. "I know nothing about these kinds of situations, yes. Please sit here with me, Verna."
The cleric coughs once. "I may need the aid of a cleric to understand these proceedings better, given my limited knowledge of the subject matter."
Verna is suddenly pointed out and then ... beckoned? The first is somewhat expected. The second... less so. In her experience, a pointed finger and 'You!' in this type of situation is generally followed by bolts of fire, evisceration, beheading, explosions, and or some combination thereof. Cor'lana's sudden... plea(?!) draw her attention for a moment, and adds to the strangeness of the situation.
She would much prefer to call them out, to dispel falsehoods and deceptions, and yet the tent is filled with the hopeful, bewitched, deceived.
She starts to approach, if tentatively. "What of me?" She is not the talented performer that Cor'lana is and does not attempt to be.
GAME: Schara rolls sense motive: (1)+3: 4 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Ravenstongue rolls hmm: aliased to Sense Motive+3: (19)+19+3: 41 GAME: Slixvah rolls sense motive+2: (9)+4+2: 15 GAME: Verna rolls sense motive: (9)+15: 24 GAME: Patch rolls perform/sing: (13)+12: 25
The priest waves his hand, beckoning Verna toward him until Cor'lana stands up and he blinks at her. Slowly he smiles. "Dreams are what bring many to me, you will have to wait your turn dear. This is her night." He motions again to Verna. "I see your fine dress milady, and suspect that desperation brings you here. Tell us what did, and perhaps I can be of aid to you."
GAME: Zyla rolls sense motive: (20)+8: 28
Cor'lana's teeth gnash together as the priest doesn't bite her bait. Quietly, she motions to Verna, casting a message spell that passes through her allies ending with the Mourner. ("He knows me. I don't know where, but he knows me. And he's picking you to spite me, Verna. This is a trap. But I refuse to tell Auranar that I let you die again because you wanted to sacrifice yourself, Verna--do NOT go up there to him!")
Her hands tremble a little once the casting is finished, her violet eyes burning with contempt underneath the hood as she stares down this would-be miracle man.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Message. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17
Slix blinks as Lana makes her case. Damn. That was a good one. Taking cues from Patch, it's best left that the more experienced folks deal with something like this, she thinks to herself as she sits there rubbing at her throat. "I dunno, Patty, hard ta look at 'em, either they fake or disguises. Or something I ain' seen."
There's a slightly proud look to Schara as she knew their mouth was bleeding from how hard they bit their tongue inside that helmet. But instead, her attention slowly sides over to the Augur and the scene transpiring.
Unknowingly, she whispers to her companions under her breath in a twitter, "Ceiwen, Cernan, shepherd us from misfortune." Her knee bounces. Cor'lana's words don't aid her resolve. <Auran>
Schara looks over to Slixvah, seemingly staring for a moment, before they shake their head, and return to seeing the others. "You do not need to up there. We do not know how this works yet, we should see how this works before committing to things." They warn, but expect little.
"Something is wrong." Patch's words for Slixvah, but her eyes are locked on Cor'lana as she makes her impassioned plea to Verna with the message.
"I will not ask anyone to spring a trap, but if you want? Tell them the truth." Patch states to Verna, weaving her 'hidden' magics to allow all her words to act as a message spell for the party to hear. It's easy, the use of it almost like a second nature. "I don't know if asking for a 'trial' is in good cult taste, Schara." amusement there. "After Kol, my instincts scream run."
Verna does not glance to Cor'lana, but whispers a response to her comment between steps. ("I see them for what they are and will not surrender. We must evacuate as many as possible. Now.") She closes to the midst of the audience, and not fully to the trio presenting, before halting.
"I have dreamt that a horrendous doom may be upon us. I hoped that you, or your allies," she gestures to the flanking beings, "would be able to help. Augury, I fear that there are demons all around us. In the city, around the city, perhaps even in this very tent. All waiting to harm us."
She then exhales a long breath in a sigh before looking to the Aurgury again. "No matter how many are vanquished, they continue to come. Can you make it stop?"
The man looks at Verna solidly and steps forward to meet her. "I can take you to a place where you will not have to worry about demons." The crowd murmurs hopeful blessings. Tearful benedictions to the priest. He waves a hand and a portal appears between the two beings on the 'stage'. "You need only trust me; take my hand and come with me." He holds out his hand to her.
GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/arcana: (6)+14: 20 to Aftershock GAME: Slixvah rolls spellcraft: (7)+14: 21
Slixvah closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as a warm feeling ebbs out the cold in her joints. A small nod to herself. Blues open. And just watches.
Mother always said that sometimes the best way to deal with something is to be the pebble that causes the landslide. And the best thing she could do, right now, is pay attention. Words are shared. A portal is opened.
She blinks. That's it? A scowl. A quiet whisper on the Message. "That was too easy. Portals are hella hard ta make. This boi is wrong. They have ta be somethin' else. This is a trap. Why else would they be outta the city?"
GAME: Patch rolls knowledge/arcana: (16)+11: 27 GAME: Patch rolls Spellcraft: (6)+8: 14
"That fits the definition of wrong well enough." Patch says to Slixvah, the messaging magic convenient to talk amongst themselves as Verna and Cor'lana decide what to do. That portal is a concern, and the bard stares at it as she draws her cloak tightly about herself. "Slixvah, I got the heebies, and the jeebies are seeming to follow." this situation not sitting well as it begins to devolve more and more. "Schara, Zyla. Be ready for anything." she warns, a heavy breath taken as she does a hard thing. Nothing. For now she stays in her seat.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Lightning Bolt. Caster Level: 12 DC: 20
Verna looks from the man to the portal that appears and back to the man. "No."
"All those present, and many others, seek aid, solace, and protection. I will not abandon them when they are needed most. I seek your aid for them. Do not protect one, protect them all. Will you stand with me, in the light?"
Her next words are in Celestial, which may be appropriate given the angelic kin present. Yes, kin, perhaps, as the red-dressed woman promptly begins to glow with radiant light and shimmering wings of similar light sprout from her. There may be more angelic presences around the city than just the two.
GAME: Verna casts Greater Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 19 DC: 25
The gears in the sorceress's head are turning. This is a trap. And there's no way that Cor'lana can rally the crowd against this man, even with her gifted tongue. They're all under his thrall. Which means...
Her eyes dart up to the tent. It's a gamble. It's a /risk/. But...
Cor'lana looks to Patch. "Sister--I need your help," she says, leaning into her ear to whisper. "I'm going to start a distraction. You're going to help me get everyone out. We need these people out of here."
No sooner than she says this, she reaches into her dress and pricks herself on a sewing needle she's embedded into the sleeve for just this purpose. She brings her bloodied finger to her chest and ducks it under the fabric of her chest, feeding the mark there. "Grandfather, fly with me," she murmurs. "Lady of Inspiration, fan my flames..."
Violet eyes glow softly underneath the hood, and a subtle gesture with no sound result in three rays of fire at a high point in the tent, above the heads of the tallest members.
The priest dives for the gate as the spells are cast. "Through the gate! She seeks to destroy us!" He calls to his followers. Meanwhile the demons simply wink out of existence as if they were never there, likely teleporting themselves away before they can be found out as what they really are. The crowd, seeing the woman shining and the tent ablaze... does what their priest tells them to do. They rush for the still-open gate.
GAME: Patch casts Grease. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15
"That's it. I'm done." Patch says, standing as the tent bursts into chaos. Verna and Corl'ana have made their moves, and now that people flee towards that 'funky' portal? Nope. A thumb raised and stroking across her lips. Being behind the crowd is a major advantage as she weaves and uses the buttery gloss from her lips as a reagent to cast her spell. "This will cease, the lease is done! We shall return the peace with grease!" her spell complete and cast, aimed at all those attempting to flee directly before her. "Save the poor people!" she calls, and immediately regrets it. "No, save the people in the poor situation!" semantics. Sometimes it matters. They are destitute.
Slixvah's eyes go wide as Verna's holy form takes on a more angelic shade, the egalrin glued to her seat. There's a certain appreciation one can have when studying magic, and witnessing such power leaves one... speechless.
Sniff sniff. "... shit's on fire, yo," she murmurs to herself, looking up to the flaming tent, then down to the- "Maaaaaaan. Aight."
She stands up abruptly, wings flaring out and ripping free from their wrappings. "Stick together cuties...!" she whispers under her breath, feeling her heart race as Patch hums her prose and is brought to reality. "... 'cause it's about to get really... confusing!"
"Ikel a mtsor orllni ni! Uonmtai ohem!" she chants, then beats her wings once, twice, and-
A veritable plume of mist obfuscates the entire space. And to make things even more confusing- "Oi! Tha portal's over here!" she yells towards the entrance.
GAME: Slixvah casts Obscuring Mist. Caster Level: 6 DC: 16 GAME: Slixvah rolls bird bluff: aliased to bluff+3: (16)+6+3: 25
Verna sought to call the charlatan's bluff, disturb the demons, and aid the unfortunate crowd. It seems she may have succeeded at two of the three, but the sudden rush for the gate was not expected in the slightest. "No! He lied to you!" No good could come of that. None at all.
The sudden flurry of magic and/or misdirection from her peers is welcomed-no, deeply gratifying. The longer confused flock take to reach the gate, the better. All the better to give her a moment to focus upon the gate, itself.
This time her words are not Celestial, but Mynsandraal as glowing fingers gesture to 'pluck' from a distance at the threads of mana forming the portal. If they can be unraveled, then there is no gate for any to be lost into.
GAME: Verna casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 19 DC: 20 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+20: (8)+20: 28
Well, it's chaos. But the grease goes out and the mist goes up, and Cor'lana decides she might as well see the chaos she's caused through. She brings her voice up an octave in a shrill voice as she yells, "The portal! It's here! It's here!"
And then she makes her way out to the entrance. This is the most that can be done. "This way, this way!" she continues to call out in her disguised voice. Lead them away from demons and back out into the night air.
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Bluff: (5)+20: 25 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Bluff: (20)+20: 40 GAME: Patch casts Gallant Inspiration. Caster Level: 5 DC: 16 GAME: Patch rolls 2d4: (5): 5
Patch had felt something. The mist, the grease before her. Smoke. None of that it. It's getting crazy in here, but there it was. Verna's magic was struggling to close the gate, she felt a moment where the magic might not make it. How? She attributes it to the hymn. "Vaire, now!" she calls, her body calling forth some of her bardic magic, and with it the forces needed to allow Verna's spell to close that abomination of a portal. It happens, moments she knows she can attempt to change. Luck was on her side when Gallant Inspiration was needed, and Verna is left to bask in the warmth of admiration and various other emotions that spur those to strive harder. They only last for a little bit, it's magic afterall.
"We got it! The portal's closed!" Patch's happy moment short-lived. "I can't see /anything/." choosing to try and stagger backwards. Away from the grease.
Schara stumbles to her feet with all the commotion, and looks up to the ceiling before whatever they could actually see was obscured by mist. "Do not follow the cleric into those gates. They were set up before this happened, and were not put in place as a means of escape. I would remind you all that the wards preventing teleportation magic were put up on the city for a reason, if there is not already reason enough not to trust them."
The artificer finally manages to wander out of the fog cloud, and find one of the sides of the building. Schara unfolded the rectangular metal structure under their left arm, as plates folded up and away from the limb, exposing the metal support structure of the arm and the numerous coils of metal beneath. While normally they were red hot, this time they glowed with blue, crackling energy as they took aim, sending out a bolt of energy that vaporized a large chunk out of the fabric. "This tent was not prepared with enough exits in case of emergency. I have made one out the side, so that the main exit does not get too congested. Those who can not move as quickly or are injured, come to where I am, I will help you out of here." They attempt to shout out over the noise.
You wanted chaos? You got chaos.
The people rush toward the gate only for a slick of grease to appear on the ground. Most fall to it immediately, and then the fog rolls in and confusion reigns. Some manage to crawl through the portal, others are stepped on by those who can't see, while the fire above drips hot embers down on the congregation.
People scream. Fear and panic reign as several voices call out about an exit. Some are still lured by the easy fix, the known solution, but it closes with a snap and people wander blindly for the voices.
In the aftermath it's hard to tell if everyone makes it out okay. The tent collapses after a few moments from the stress of the fire, the hole in its side destroying one of its supports, and so many people trying to exit it at once. It just wasn't built for that kind of stress. Still, the group of you make it out in one piece. Alive to conquer another day. That's not nothing.
-End