[Nexus] Trog's Tavern CCXLV

[Hattish Thing]

I'm not finished with you. Callie Pyrsol enters right after Rick Brutal and fires three magic missiles at him, orbs the size and speed of thrown baseballs.

Different, earlier, timeline!

[Reinholdt]

While Rein waits a response and before he forgets again,
*pokes Hatter to Sitar's Strings*

[Zefir]

"Oh, you don't need a provisional name. I meant for us. We're looking to get more people; we have so much to do, but we haven't decided on a name for the business."

He rises up a bit on the seat, to explain.

"Inari is a goddess, patron of rice, foxes, and kitsune. Not as involved in the Nexus as many of the small powers or conflict-related deities, but always present, always promoting life."

"If I know what you business is, I might help."

Mika looks down under the table and seems to search for something on him.

"How did you come to Inari?"

[Recaiden]

"We're a small research group; we make machines and plants, sell to NPCs mostly."

Metaphorically, like a dark secret, or literally, like a scar or mark?
If she wants a dark secret, she'll have to study Atorre-Seren, not Atorre-Derek. If she's looking for, say, some sign that he's actually a fox pretending to be a human, she's not finding anything.

"There was a time, when we were very poorly off. Our closest friend had scorned us, a plan had failed, a strange group was trying to kill us, and we turned against our self, my different part-minds fighting and fragmenting. One part of me was disconnected entirely. The people at the temple took them in and helped them recover, so we could be a whole person again."

[Morty]

Dipsnig peers at Rick Brutal while taking a drink from his mug. Hm. A loud idiot, even louder and dumber than the usual Trog's fare. Could be trouble... which might be interesting.

[Hattish Thing]

Rick Brutal rolls his eyes at Reinholdt. You... Don't know how? There are generally three players, each with four D6's. You place them in a cup, and hide the dice under the cup. Next each player announces what he suspects are under everyone's cups. For example, "I believe there are seven fours." You count all of the players dice. And other players may accuse you of being wrong by announcing "Liar".

[Reinholdt]

"Looks like we don't have enough players. You'll have to try Black Dragon's Den or the Dancing Fox Inn." What a shame. Reinholdt starts to rest his head back down.

[Zefir]

"We're a small research group; we make machines and plants, sell to NPCs mostly."

Metaphorically, like a dark secret, or literally, like a scar or mark?
If she wants a dark secret, she'll have to study Atorre-Seren, not Atorre-Derek. If she's looking for, say, some sign that he's actually a fox pretending to be a human, she's not finding anything.

"There was a time, when we were very poorly off. Our closest friend had scorned us, a plan had failed, a strange group was trying to kill us, and we turned against our self, my different part-minds fighting and fragmenting. One part of me was disconnected entirely. The people at the temple took them in and helped them recover, so we could be a whole person again."

"Sounds like Greentech, but why do you only sell to No Policy Customers?" She responds. Seems like she can't break the 4th wall.

Actually she was looking for any sign of fox or a bag of rice or something.

"I'm a bit confused. How could a god of fox and rice do this. mean your overmind thing doesn't sound like that easy kind of stuff."

[Recaiden]

"Nah, Nautical Personnel Centers. Living out by the ocean as we do, we come up with a lot we can market to seafaring applications."
Atorre smiles. "It wasn't by any magic or divine intervention or directly healing our overmind. It was just by reminding us how much there was to the world. Rice was something we always took for granted before then. To see it as something as holy as it is, well, that put things into a different perspective."
"As for foxes, well, they're extinct where we come from. A storybook creature like dragons and birds."
There's no rice to see, Atorre-Tavlii is the one with all the rice, but his pendant does flash with a tiny fox symbol for a moment.

[Zefir]

Mika just looks away for a short moment to notice the others in the tavern, but right now she doesn't pay much attention to them.
If fox are storybook material in hsi worls, a kitsune must be legendary then right?

"Oh now I see. Well I can give it a try. Doesn't seem like I can loose anything."

[Recaiden]

Must be and are. The Nexus is full of impossible, legendary things. But that doesn't make her any less so. As for Atorre, he listens for a moment to the rules of the dice game. Do you score whatever points you get away with saying? Sounds like a friendly game, not one for bars or gambling. Anyway. Most of his attention stays of Mika.

"Great! That's...well, yeah. Hopefully you'll have some to gain. We'll be glad to have you helping."

[Zefir]

Mika smiles. She likes making people happy. Hopefully she won't regret this dcission.

"And where lives your research group?"

[Recaiden]

If she does, it's almost certainly something she can undo. Atorre-Derek smiles back.

"We live a little ways outside the city, on a place called Coconut Bee Island."

[Hattish Thing]

An older man in dark red robes walks in. He's smiling and moving about slowly, carrying a large crate. Two women in robes follow behind him, one carrying a music stand, and the other a large leather-bound tome. He walks in and places the crate on the ground by the end of the room, and the music stand. He places the big book on the stand, and coughs a bit. Ahem. Hello there, friends. I am a representative of the Church of Pulveris. You may call me Grandfather. I am her today to convince you good people to embrace the true faith. You have your gods... Pelor, Thor, etcetera. You may even have met a god. They are real.

This you know, of course. Pulveris is a god of rebirth, of shifting cycles of the world. Ending life, and creating life anew, as better. Destroying civilizations when they begin to descend into grime, filth, and corruption by bringing about seven days of plague and death. But after the even days of no water, the land transformed into desert wastelands... Things begin to grow anew, green spikes of life appear, rains begin to flow down from the heaven's, and the land grows and flourishes. Some will die... That is nature. But the survivors will be gifted with a promised land, a beautiful, green, shimmering oasis, with good rich soil growing crops. Pulveris turns the dying and corrupt into dust, and from that dust he grows a perfect world.

And when that perfect world once more falls into a corrupt state, a pit of bribery, hatred, and death... He brings about his cataclysm once more! Cant' you see? He is the most giving god, the most passionate, the most caring! He CARES for you all, he GIVES you all life from death! The cycle of rebirth is precious and holy! Embrace him, and your souls will be protected and cared for when the cataclysm falls! It may be centuries from now, or years. The destruction of this place, this society, is inevitable. But it will not occur for a long time, because this place still has good. There are still good people in the streets, saving lives! Helpin'!

But there is evil too. Destruction, death... Murder, rape.... Theft, and torture... Sins! There is sin in this city... great sin. Yet, those sinners are allowed to prosper and live off good people! But there still are good people... It is when the evil men and women live off evil men and women that Pulveris cleanses. It is when the bad people become the normal of society, that Pulveris will act. I am the hand of Pulveris, his spiritual leader! And I am here to tell you good people of the TRUTH! Come, men and women, join me in our prayers to our god! Who's with me?

[Darkcomet]

A particular individual spontaneously bursts out of deadtime at the bar. Currently equipped with the laser rifle and dagger listed in that profile, combined with his original armor, also as listed. He doesn't have any of those weapons drawn right now, of course.

There is a somewhat less than sane look in his eyes as he stands and looks towards this 'Grandfather'.

"What? I didn't hear ya, lost most of my hearin' in the war," he says at an overly loud volume, to sell the idea that he's mostly deaf. "Could you come over here and repeat that?"

[Zefir]

"Coconut Bee? I hope this island doesn't get his name for Coconut size Bee's." she sais to Atorre-Derek

Then thsi 'grandfather speaks up and Mika rais a hand.

"Excuse me old man, but the way you tell it he is the god of destruction, since he only looks when to throw his cataclysm. You may tell him that caring for the seed may prevent growing bad."

She really dislikes distruction, but shecan't stop it expect with words.

[Hattish Thing]

A particular individual spontaneously bursts out of deadtime at the bar. Currently equipped with the laser rifle and dagger listed in that profile, combined with his original armor, also as listed. He doesn't have any of those weapons drawn right now, of course.

There is a somewhat less than sane look in his eyes as he stands and looks towards this 'Grandfather'.

"What? I didn't hear ya, lost most of my hearin' in the war," he says at an overly loud volume, to sell the idea that he's mostly deaf. "Could you come over here and repeat that?"

Less than sane? The Grandfather's not going anywhere near him, his self-preservation tactics kicking in. His two guardians move in front of him, but do not threaten anyone, threatening people would end in death for him probably. The Grandfather speaks slowly. I am very sorry sir, but I am out of breath.... Would you like to hear more about the Church of Pulveris? Please, move closer. I will be happy to read from The Serpentine Dictate for you, sir.

And, Ms... Care for the seed of life? It is not his duty. He only causes life to be reborn, he can't care. It is against his very existence. Ma'am, he leaves that to people. To you, and you, and you. He points out to NPC's.

[Darkcomet]

"Alright! Polite of ya, I'll treat you to some drinks." Trent turns, and orders...dragon liver busters. Three of them.

In pretty large glasses, too. Jeez.

Upon getting them, he promptly takes them, and goes to hand them to the Grandfather and his guardians. He's very pushy about it. "Here, here, I insist. It's rude to turn down free drinks where I come from, you know."

Apparently he is a deranged alcoholic now. Ah, what deadtime does to people.

[Hattish Thing]

"Alright! Polite of ya, I'll treat you to some drinks." Trent turns, and orders...dragon liver busters. Three of them.

In pretty large glasses, too. Jeez.

Upon getting them, he promptly takes them, and goes to hand them to the Grandfather and his guardians. He's very pushy about it. "Here, here, I insist. It's rude to turn down free drinks where I come from, you know."

Apparently he is a deranged alcoholic now. Ah, what deadtime does to people.

The Grandfather smiles before his grin fades away and his brow furrows. He moves down off his crate, and moves about two chairs away from the drunkard man. His two guardians sit on each chair besides him. The Grandfather does not take the drink, a guardian takes two, and hands it to him. The Grandfather is currently a bit suspicious. I... Thank you sir, but I don't drink. My guardians, you are free to enjoy. What would you like to know about us? About Pulveris? He just dips a finger into the drink and swirls it around.

[Darkcomet]

"One sec, gotta get a smoke." Trent says, apparently deciding to indulge in yet another vice. He reaches back, into his armor's backpack-compartment thing, and pulls out...something, presumably a box of cigarettes. It's hidden by his armored hands, and he may or may not have fiddled with it back there.

"There's just one thing I wanna know, see."

He...tosses the thing he grabbed into the air, where it abruptly explodes in a blast of raw heat. It wouldn't be enough to severely burn anything normally, but with the strongest and most flammable drinks in the tavern in their hands...well.

The Dragon Liver Busters burst into flames, which is probably really bad for the Grandfather, with his hand in one. Also possibly the Guardians if they drank any, their faces might be on fire now.

Trent holds up the now-flaming drink he still has, in mockery of a toast.

"Do you smoke too?"

[Hattish Thing]

The Grandfather has his hand in his drink, and suddenly he's on fire. He immediately pulls his hand out and waves his hand frantically. His chair falls backwards and the older man falls and lands on his feet. The first thing he does is cast his prime ability. (The Grandfather's shtick is that he can't kill, his spells only deal damage, and even bring his opponent to near death, but he can't kill.) So, he attacks! A stream of red runes blasts from his good hand, and will most likely hit the deranged alcoholic. If it does hit, it'll take away the man's health down to half. He can only keep draining the man's current health down by half, he can't kill him. One of the guardian's had taken a drink, and is now screaming and shouting. The other is okay, and didn't take a drink. She will cast a healing spell on The Grandfather, and his hand stops burning and heals. Help! Help! I'm under attack!

[Darkcomet]

Trent starts moving evasively the moment everything starts going to hell, chucking the flaming drink he has towards the intact Guardian. Ouch, flaming booze and shattered glass.

He gets skimmed by the runes and grunts, but it's not clear how much it did, given the fact that people don't have health bars and he's still going. He's drawing his rifle and shouting.

"Death to the doomsday cult! Show them the destruction they want!"

He appears to be trying to rally the tavern. No shooting yet though.

[Hattish Thing]

Trent starts moving evasively the moment everything starts going to hell, chucking the flaming drink he has towards the intact Guardian. Ouch, flaming booze and shattered glass.

He gets skimmed by the runes and grunts, but it's not clear how much it did, given the fact that people don't have health bars and he's still going. He's drawing his rifle and shouting.

"Death to the doomsday cult! Show them the destruction they want!"

He appears to be trying to rally the tavern. No shooting yet though.

The Grandfather is very difficult to kill, seeing as he rapidly gains health points, but can never heal to full health. He can't be fully alive, or fully kill another. Kinda funny like that. Ouch, the poor intact guardian gets hit in the face, and she screams and shouts before falling to the floor clutching her face and bawling.

The Grandfather's face turns very intimidating, and very violent. He glares over at Trent and chants slowly, his spell forming. Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? Quem patronum rogaturus, C()um vix iustus sit securus? Rex tremendæ maiestatis, Qui salvandos salvas gratis, Salva me, fons pietatis. Recordare, Iesu pie, Quod sum causa tuæ viæ: Ne me perdas illa
By the end of his chant, Trent might find yet another line of painful looking runes flying forward to him very fast, and once they hit it'll evaporate, dealing more damage. So now he'll be hurt even more. Now, at 25% of whatever health he had.

There are also runes now raining over his head, each doing little damage, but it's a constant stream, but they won't kill him.

[Morty]

Dipsnig... isn't really interested in interfering in the fight between the crazy cultist and the plain old crazy guy. So he just watches the scuffle with mild interest.

[Darkcomet]

...Assuming, of course, that the first did full damage. Which is entirely possible to not be the case.

Dude's armored and has fought magicky things before.

For Trent's part, he's busy being evasive. Dives abound to avoid getting hit by that stuff. Up to and including 'behind the bar'. "No, really! Anyone want to stop the doomsday cult here!?" He is still shouting about that. "He was going and preaching about it and everything, hellooo?"

He does end up stealing a bunch of drinks and throwing them the Grandfather's way, though. That can't spell anything good. "I'll pay for that!"

[Hattish Thing]

The Grandfather frowns and will move away, he's surprisingly agile and dodges the bottles. He's not liking this. So, two women are on the floor clutching they're faces and The Grandfather is very upset. You will not harm my children! Help, I'm under attack! Call Remnant! We're not Doomsday cultists, you madman! This time, he'll attempt to have magical floating red runes wrap around Trent's throat and lift him into the air.

[Morty]

"When you put it that way..." Dipsnig says, then reaches for his crossbow. Or rather, what looks like a stock of a crossbow. When he picks it up, however it... unfolds. The arms spring up from the stock, as does a magazine holding three bolts. It ends up being a rather big weapon, especially in the hands of someone so short.

"If you're not a doomsday cult, talking about a cataclysm was a pretty lousy idea," he adds as he points the crossbow at the Grandfather and pulling the trigger. The bolt is let loose from the weapon with great speed and force, flying straight at his ribcage.

[Darkcomet]

Trent is very not happy with the idea of letting those near his neck. He is not happy with it at all.

He ends up lowering his rifle, grabbing his dagger, and slashing at the runes in the air. Said dagger is incredibly nasty to magic, especially of the divine variety, and is very likely to disrupt the spell.

It would also be very unpleasant if any magical beings got stabbed with it, which was Trent's original plan.

That does keep him from attacking more, though, as he's busy taking cover and avoiding that thing. He figures he could just move, but it would just keep coming if he didn't disrupt it.

[Hattish Thing]

...


Okay. The Grandfather is shot in the ribs. He stumbles down onto his knees and clutches himself. He is there, kneeling and clutching himself. I... help.... Me..

[Morty]

Dipsnig shakes his head. Poor deluded idiot.

"What, help the cultist of a god who's planning to bring on a cataclysm? Sounds like a pretty stupid idea to me."