An Extended Family (IC)

['Neath the Moon]

The very large mass of kith and kin of Sir Donovan Roderick Junior, second son of Earl Donovan Roderick Senior, (and also known throughout the land by various nicknames and appellations: "Dirty Don," "Don the Dagger," "That-Bloody-Good-Fer-Naught," "Red-Head Donny," and so on...) is gathered in the courtyard of Roderick Manor in the town of Oakenwash. The Manor's shadow falls on the muddy ground, and there is a rainbow overhead. Rainbows are common in Meerdale County, since it is usually either raining, about to rain, or just finished raining--usually two at once. Funerals are usually held indoors, but there was no chamber in the Manor large enough to contain the crowd gathered here.

A priest of the Keepers--an elf of indeterminate age in a cloak of three hues of grey--stands on an old stone dais on the north end of the courtyard. On the ground in front of the dais there is a finely carved coffin made from jet black bog-oak, the traditional burial wood in this region. The priest finishes the funereal rites, and announces that only the family of the deceased is to accompany the body into the crypt. Roughly three-quarters of the gathered crowd disperses, some of them with help from the town guard.

You are, of course, all kin of Donovan Roderick the Second, and so join the procession into the Roderick family crypt. There is a notable lack of tears from your father's brother and father, and his wife and two legitimate children seem even less friendly towards you than they usually do. The four senior members of the family guard who are carrying the coffin--the only non-relatives included--place the large black box in a stone sarcophagus in the crypt, and then depart. The five legally recognized members of your father's family stand on one end of the crypt, with the sarcophagus between you and them. Donovan I speaks. For such an old man, his voice is still very strong, though the damp walls of the crypt seem to deaden the noise:

"Good. We are alone at last. This is a family matter, and whatever certain parties might think," here he inclines his head toward your father's wife, "you are family to my son also. For this reason, there is something you should know. He is not dead. All will be explained in time, but for now all you need to know is that this coffin contains the body of the creature sent to kill him, and we have reason to believe that everyone here who shares my first wife's blood will be targeted as well. My Donny is in hiding, and I have equipped--at no small expense--much of my guard with the weapons they will need to fight these creatures."

The old man gestures to his eldest son--your uncle-- who opens the coffin lid. Inside, between two large stones presumably placed there for weight, is the body of a strange creature. It is roughly three feet tall, and shaped like a human or elf. His skin is charcoal-grey, fading into dark pink at the fingertips, palms, and the ends of the nose and pointed ears. His face is distorted with rage and his eyes, still open, are the amber-orange of certain hawk's eyes. He has jet-black hair which sticks back in a thick mane, and bird wings of the same color. Tattooed all over the body, in blue-black ink, are a series of complex swirls and spirals, which shift in spots into everything from interlaced designs to vines to the faces of wild beasts. Its right hand and wrist are blistered and burned.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Well, Ashley was crying, at any rate. She hadn't really known her father all that well, and hadn't even seen much of him at all in the past decade (and not at all in the past couple years). But still. He was her father and she cared for him. The news that he was dead had come as a shock, as well as putting a final end to a few childhood fantasies that she had thought she had written off long ago.

So when her grandfather announced that he was, in fact, alive, the storyteller perked up instantly. "That's great!" she said despite herself, before snapping her mouth shut with an apologetic look.

And it wasn't all great, as the rest of the patron's explanation revealed. When the coffin was open, she looked upon the body of the creature that had gone after her father - nay, her family - with a hateful glare.

Spoiler

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Bardic Knowledge mayhaps? (1d20+9)[18]

[DoctorGlock]

It had been a whirlwind week. First he had been kicked from his home. Ok, not kicked precisely, and he had been planning to leave anyway, but on his own terms! Before politely-- but firmly-- booting him from the monastery, Lord Pendrel had told him the four words that he knew would keep Lucien away for a while.

'I found your father.'

Halfway across the continent in a place who's chief export seemed to be rain. Still, Lucien never sat well for long and for someone willing to jump up on a whim the answer to a question plaguing him for over a decade was a strong motivator.

Of course, the man was dead. Pendrel could have mentioned that.

So now Lucien sat awkwardly surrounded by grieving relatives--they must be, they looked sort of like him. His human features anyway-- trying hit best not to look too out of place. But a stranger's funeral was not the best place for a touching reunion. A decade of questioning, a week of travel across a sodden bitter landscape with only the barest collection of his possessions and a song of hope had ended at a rather literal dead end.

Lucien wanted to cry. It just wasn't fair.

'The world was never meant to be a fair place; it is the role of good men to make it one,' his adoptive father was wont to say.

So he sat in silence until they were ushered into the crypts, to say his final farewell to a man he never knew.

Well, aside from one little snag.

The man wasn't dead, and in his place was...

Spoiler: whoops forgot spoiler

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Knowledge skills:
arcana (1d20+15)[28]
planes (1d20+15)[22]
religion (1d20+15)[35]
nature (1d20+15)[16]

[Qwertystop]

Odd.

Arriving to the funeral went more or less as expected: walk to the gates of the nest estate, show the invitation to the dinner guards, sit through the ritual funeral, and follow his siblings into the crypt. At each step, more strange, unrecognizing looks - but why would that be? Showing the invitation, or an assurance that yes, he was one of deceased's relatives, had been enough to get through the actual event.

Just to avoid the awkwardness, though, the Artisan stayed in the back going to the crypt, stood by a wall, and went a mottled dark-gray-brown.

Oh, Father's alive? That's good to hear. Curiosity is enough -

"So what sort of thing is it, then?"

- to get him to break cover.

Still dark gray and lumpy-looking, though.

Spoiler

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Hide, to see who noticed him before he stopped hiding (assuming it's dark enough for concealment in a crypt?):
(1d20+15)[29]
Not going to bother with rolling untrained Knowledge.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle's first thoughts arriving at the scene was that there were a lot of people.
Then that she had pretty much no idea who were those people and started feeling awkward, specially with Don's actual direct family around. She didn't quite know how to react to the death of her father she barely knew and always blamed...
Except that, as it turned out, he was not dead yet.
And that she was now, apparently, a target too.

She peered over the coffin along with her new-found siblings, then stiffened a bit hearing the... Human-looking sibling talking.

"I have no idea what this is. But..."
She hesitated a bit what to call her new-found grandfather.
"Earl Roderick, what did you mean by weapons to fight those creatures?"

[Oneris]

Corina blinked back a yawn and sighed heavily under her pretty lace umbrella. What little patience she had for this farce had been exhausted long ago when the dampness had soaked through and ruined her third pair of court shoes. There should be nothing keeping her here in this dreary place, listening to such drivel in incessant drizzle. Except of course, the blackmail.

She had deigned to accept the invitation only after the fifth of such received, despite the last three being RSVP'd with exploding runes. "We sincerely regret to inform of your father's passing earlier this week. Sir Roderick Donovan Junior's funeral will be held in XX weeks' time, and we humbly request your presence to mourn his loss." they always said, each as irritatingly courteous as the last. The crabbed "Or Else" appended to the final one was a nice touch. She smiled. One unfortunate scrivener in the house must hold a deep and undying hatred for her now.

Then she frowned. Five such letters had already been sent and received, all holding scandalous and slanderous -or was it libelous- content. Who was to say that the sixth won't be intercept? Or had already been? Biting back her disdain, Corina had made preparations for her departure. A pair of letters penned in forged hand did the trick nicely. A research trip, in the letter to her mother. No doubt there'd be little suspicion in the sudden departure, as long as it was not for home. To her school, her father's medical emergency. In a sense, it was true; a sudden lack of life was certainly an emergency of the 'medical' type, even if the man was explicitly not her father.

The most dismal carriage ride of her life later, and now she stood in the small crypt that stank of mildew and niter, listening to a decrepit man who resembled a denizen of the crypt himself ramble. Apparently the deceased was not in fact dead, but the rest of the gathered party soon will be. How inspired, a plot taken straight from a copper-piece thriller. The creature inside the coffin was quite interesting, though, and she leaned in for a closer look.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Knowledge(Arcana):(1d20+14)[20]
Knowledge(Nature):(1d20+6)[19]
Knowledge(Planes):(1d20+6)[20]
Knowledge(Religion):(1d20+6)[17]

['Neath the Moon]

Donovan Sr. says, in reply to the inquiries about the creature and the weapons used to fight it, "This is a Ruunpuka, which you might know from children's stories as a Puck. It's a particularly nasty type of Faerie, but not one known to act of its own accord, and not one seen for near on five-hundred years. We'd gotten word that at least two of your half-siblings have died in the last few weeks, quite unexpectedly, and then Donny was attacked. If he hadn't had a hidden ward, it likely would have taken him by surprise, and the rest of you would have had no prior warning.
"As for the weaponry, I was referring to cold iron," he says, producing from a pocket an old-looking dagger with a very thin, dark, leaf-shaped blade; it looks wickedly sharp. Everyone in the room except for Earl Donovan and the mother of your legitimate half-siblings feels a subtle, shivering tingle, and those who came close to examine the body feel something unpleasant and hard to describe, something between a blast of freezing wind and the feeling of being to close to a roaring fire. Your grandfather continues,
"My ten best-trained guards have each been equipped with a short sword of the stuff.
"Now, if anyone is squeamish, look away. There's one more thing to do before laying this body to rest."

From a cloak pocket near the one that had held the dagger, he draws a thin bit of white wood, sharpened on one end. He drives it down into the heart of the Ruunpuka, releasing a disappointingly little amount of blood. He then closes the coffin.

Spoiler: Why stab the corpse?

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It's a fairly widespread bit of knowledge, at least in adventuring and arcane circles, that vampires most commonly arise on their own when shapeshifter is buried without certain precautions. Lycanthropes are the primary culprits, but your Grampa is playing it safe.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley's face fell when the Earl spoke of the deaths. Two siblings she would never get to meet.

She was glad this creature was dead. It deserved it. ...But she still looked away on the Earl's advice when he went to stab the thing. She had been pretty sheltered from actual violence her whole life.

"What...can we do?" she asked, hesitantly at first, but more decisively as she spoke. "To protect ourselves. To protect each other. To stop these things! How can I help?"

[DoctorGlock]

"And these are the creatures of shadow that have ever plagued men since first winter, born of cold in days of old, ever opposed by righteous souls," Lucien muttered on seeing the corpse, a singsong intonation and clearly quoting something. Memories of studying texts at Sunhold with his adoptive father came flooding back as he knelt over the coffin for a better look. The hunters' texts for slaying creatures of shadow and predatory not-men that make the bulk of the paladins' tactical knowledge. "Ruunpuka, of the puka line, heralds of the winter court of the fae. Nightborn shapeshifters and natural assassins, their sign is their eyes which they cannot disguise, gateways to their empty souls glowing with bitterness and hate, their gift from Lady Winter. Burned by iron yet still it's bearer, this one was a champion in the cruel arenas."

His hairs prickled and a wave of nausea wracked his gut as his grandfather drew the blade. With a squeak like a wounded dog Lucien scurried away from the cold iron, even at a distance its nature promised the agonies of boiling blood and searing flesh. He still bore marks from his first accident with the stuff.

[Dycize]

"Hah..."

Mirandelle nodded silently while listening to her siblings talk. The realm of mystical creatures being definitely not her forte. And it had killed 2 other siblings? Considering her nomad ways, she thought, she could have easily been next...

When the Earl pulled out the dagger, a shiver went down her spine. Cold iron. She was not unfamiliar with the stuff, having met others wielding such weapons, or specialised merchants selling that. She even held some while discussing with other mercenaries in the past... And it always left her feeling unexplainably unpleasant.
However, judging by some of the reactions in the room, she thought maybe, she just learned more about her family's particularities.
To others, Mirandelle seems mostly unfazed, although her expression betrays discomfort.

"She is right, what can we do? What should we do?" she said, following Ashley's question.

[Oneris]

The procurement of a creature five hundred years unseen and the promise of more produced a small frisson of excitement. There'd be little stopping her from claiming 'Most Knowledgeable' in the realm of Preternatural Panoply now. Gone would be Renny Lovage's lurid tales of her dalliance with a faun; Corina's confrontation of a murderous Ruunpuka would be the talk of the town. So tickled was she by this that she'd almost inclined to believe in the rest of the earl's tale. Then the old man unsheathed the knife.

P'tang.
Somewhere in the clockworks on Corina's head, a cog slipped. The prospect of being blackmailed, or of being kidnapped, or even of dying at the blade of an unknown assailant had been taken in stride, but to share in the unconscious recoil of her 'siblings'? Unacceptable.

"What you do is no concern of mine. I’ll be taking my leave now, unless you’ve more party tricks to show me."

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley's skin was crawling and her heart beating faster from the presence of the cold iron. She had flinched back from it visibly, and really, really wanted her grandfather to put it away. But it was a secondary concern at the moment.

And quickly dropped to tertiary when Corina spoke. "Y-you can't!" she said, although there was no command in her voice whatsoever. It was pleading, and her eyes were wide with concern. "If you leave they'll...they'll go after you too. You should stay with us. It's safer. And...and besides!" she added, perking up some, "I mean, we haven't even gotten the chance to...do anything yet. Talk, get to know each other...even introduce ourselves! I mean, it'd be silly to leave now, right?"

[Qwertystop]

The Artisan takes a small step back as the knife comes out, and addresses Corina without turning.

"Party tricks? I think you're underselling this... thing. Five hundred years gone, clearly dangerous, there's probably more than one, they're after us, and they don't exactly look friendly, do they? Speaking as an expert here, I think that's quite frightening."

And then he is behind Corina as she turns to leave, and he is patterned like the Ruunpuka's shadow, in glowing green on black.

"Are you sure you've thought this through?"

Spoiler

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Strange Movement. Presumably it's not more than 10'.

[Oneris]

"And why-ever not? I may be in attendance presently, but I assure you, I am not of the blood."
There was less confidence in her voice now and she prayed no one would notice the color receding from her skin or the sweat beading on her brow. "A very persistent mistake was made, and now that it is no longer relevant, there is little reason to stay. Besides, were it that I truly be endangered, no manner of supernatural assassin has yet breached the wards of the Polymagica, and I shall expect it kept that way.

She dipped a curtsy toward the Earl and his trueborn kin. "My Lord, my Lady, may I be excused?"

And then he is behind Corina as she turns to leave, and he is patterned like the Ruunpuka's shadow, in glowing green on black.

"Are you sure you've thought this through?"

Spoiler

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Strange Movement. Presumably it's not more than 10'.

Corina barely noticed the voice coming from the strangely protruding portion of masonry, having given little notice towards those she'd not intend to see ever again, but even in her heightened sense of pride and folly, she could not ignore the-thing- that accosted her way.

"Eeeyahhh!"

For most, a shriek would have been enough. Unfortunately for everyone in the crypt, Corina was not 'most'. She was of the rare few who had taken their education from the prestigious Starfall Polymagica, specifically the School of Conjuration, known far and wide for its exclusivity, unparalleled proficiency, and as it happened, volatility in magic. Somewhere in the midst of that screech, she managed to vocalize the verbal components to a spell, and the cramped stone vault exploded into blindingly bright sparkles.

Spoiler: Action

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Cast Glitterdust
bwahahaha

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley was facing Corina, so she saw Art as he appeared behind her. She didn't quite put together that it wasn't actually one of the puck-monsters. "Ah!" she, uh, let's call it "challenged" (it may have been a fierce battlecry in draconic! You don't know!) and she reached out to try to grab Corina and pull her back from the creature only to receive a facefull of sparkles instead.

"Ah!" she cried out again with...um...no doubt great fury and valor (totally might have been! Way too many sparklies for anyone to tell for sure!) trying to wipe the conjuration out of her eyes and only managing to get the stuff that was clinging to her hands into her eyes because Glitterdust doesn't place nice, just, at all.

[Dycize]

Mirandelle never asked for this.
She was fine listening to what people had said, and getting irritated by the pompous lady who, apparently, did not hear the part about only family members being allowed to enter the crypt. That or she had a serious case of denial.
But then the... Let's call it family member thing decided to creep the hell out of the lady, who promptly let a spell out.
Spellcasters.

The area suddenly flashed bright and filled with gold, and Mirandelle had her eyes a tad too open at that time.

"AAAH my eyes! Sh- Arrrrh f-"
Mirandelle impeccably stopped herself from swearing and started rubbing her eyes out. This... Was not going to be a good day, was it.

[DoctorGlock]

Well, they were definitely family. Everybody in the room had recoiled from the cold iron, though none quite as viscerally.

And then they were recoiling from the--thing. It wasn't another winterborn, that's for certain. You might want to think more on that-- your birth father bones a winterfae and begets you, then he gets murdered by a winterfae who is hunting your other siblings? The cold iron was more than distracting though, it was a constant jangling on his nerves, distorting the worldsong round him into a tense and furtive beat...

But through it he could hear theirs as well, and the thing... it shared the same tune. Whatever it was, it was a sibling, and that meant...

Oh bloody hell. Lucien's train of thought shattered as the flashbang went off. He recognized the spell and managed to marshal his defenses in time, but that was the last straw.

'NO! Enough! I have just crossed half a continent, discovered I actually have a family, have discovered over the course of the same day that I have a father, that he is dead, and that he is not actually dead and that we are all being hunted by winterspawn! Oh, and that thing is likely our brother!' Oh great. Now he has their attention. Lucien deflated a bit. 'Look. I'm sorry. I just... never had siblings and now I do and now you are all about to run away or kill each other or be killed when instead we should be hunting down the darkspawn that are hunting us. Well, I will at least. They've killed two of us and tried to get father' Lucien stumbled over the last word. It was still awkward in his mouth. He knew it would be for a while yet. 'It is the duty of the righteous to make a stand against evil. If I have to do it alone, I will.' Dogma was a good refuge. Lucien understood that much better than the emotional rollercoaster.

Spoiler: Knowledge rolls as not to drop some buffed up spells on qwerty

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Well, first I am gonna roll to see if I can ID the new whats'it (qwerty) because if i think he's some sort of darkspawn I am obligated to go full paladin on him

(1d20+15)[28] arcana
(1d20+15)[31] religion
(1d20+15)[35] planes
(1d20+15)[33] nature

[Quellian-dyrae]

Ashley was, admittedly, about three seconds from panicking. Going by gut assessment of the situation, one of the puck monsters had somehow gotten in, blinded her (and, judging by the near-cursing, at least one other person) with some sort of faerie magic, and was probably about to try to kill her and/or her family and/or someone who may or may not have been either part of her family or just some random mage woman but who didn't deserved to be killed by evil fey either way! And there she was, blind, armed only with a bow and some very-not-cold-iron arrows, and with pretty much no combat magic worth discussing.

So yeah, freaking out was pretty much imminent.

And then Lucien's words cut through the chaos, calling for order and giving her enough time for her brain to actually catch up and put the twos and twos together and piece together a somewhat more coherent picture of what was actually going on.

She took a breath, gathered her wits, and turned to face...well...about twenty-five degrees off from Lucien, but, you know, in his general direction anyway. "You won't," she said fervently. "You won't have to. Not alone. I'll do anything I can to help!"

...

...

"Um...as soon as I can see again."

[Qwertystop]

"'That thing?' It seems I overdid it. It's only a costume..."

So saying, he fades back to looking like a reasonably normal person, though his nose is on upside-down for a moment before he grasps it and twists it right-way-up.

"I would tend to agree, though. We're all stuck in this, and splitting up is probably not a good idea for any of our safety."

[Oneris]

Corina swore silently. She'd forgotten hardly anyone outside the cursed school appreciated a well-trained hair-trigger conjuration. It was one of the good spells too, Well, could have been worse; at least it wasn't that damned celestial dire badger like last time.

Her moment of hesitation had cost her her getaway as the other four now seemed hell-bent on keeping her in their midst. What was it that made them so desperate for more siblings? With the eldritch creature back into a humanoid form and now 'family', she could scarcely leave as the victim, her excuse of self defense as illusory as the 'thing' that attacked her.

Time to change gears.
"Very well, I concede. It appears I'm indeed frightened of our Unseelie brethren after all. You'll have my assistance in resolving this matter. Sir Paladin here spoke so eloquently, how could I refuse?"

[Dycize]

Mirandelle was still sighing and grunting, having stopped rubbing her eyes since this proved a fruitless effort against the magic. But it was still blinding her.

"Can we at least get that spell sorted out first? I'd gladly partake in more spirited talking about doing the right thing, but I'd rather not go in blind."
She paused, her voice seemingly containing no trace of sarcasm, despite her words lending themselves quite well to it.
"All of this is very sudden and I'd rather not see more confusion than there currently is. And even less that I can't actually see."

[Yael]

During the funeral Cassandra was all sad, she had very little knowledge about her family bonds, and now she found a clue and found her family, her grandfather dies... Just like that... Tears are dropping from her brown eyes, even while her teachings should lead her to do not show emotions that may put one into the lure of darkness and evil. When Donovan I reveals the truth, Cassandra cannot do but to cry widely, she has too much tears that she can't see well. She tries to calm down and, when she does, tries to put herself together, she just can't be quiet as she likes, because the waterfall of emotions that are running through her heart and soul. "I just can't believe he may still be alive..." She whispers to herself in a quiet voice.

After the struggle everyone had (and losing sight for a bit, because of some magic that SOMEONE cast), Cassandra decides to break her current vow and to speak with the persons she just meet. "Umm... May I have a word with you, friends of mine?" She is shaking, helping her speech very little. "If what Mr. Donovan says is true, we should stay together. Ruunpukae are very dangerous because of their lore... And if they are comng for us... We should... J-just stay together and know us better... R-right?" She can't with herself, she is about to drop into the floor and start crying like a baby, but she is enduring. "M-my n-name i-is C-Cassandra, t-though." She is now stuttering.

['Neath the Moon]

The crypt and its inhabitants, now coated in a delightfully iridescent shimmering dust, return to their somber shades, following a brief flash of silvery light from the side of the room where the legitimate Rodericks stand. Donovan Jr.'s wife, Nieve (your stepmother,) lowers her hand, which had been extended in a crooked gesture.*
"I'm sure they'll do very well," she says curtly, with no detectable sarcasm, and leaves. Her son and daughter follow, looking back at the coffin as they depart.

Your uncle, Gareth, stands to the side of, and slightly behind, his father. He is tall, with shoulder-length honey-blonde hair (streaked with silver,) a goatee (a real one, which extends only from the lower chin,) and eyes of a warm hazel-brown.** Gareth is dressed in a black velvet tunic and pants,*** with a sword belted at his waist. He says, loud enough that everyone still in the tomb can hear it, "Bloody Iron hurts like a dozen bee-stings right into the fresh wound. That damned Puck slashed me up with that little dagger you all saw when I came to help Donny out. Still hurts, even after they got me patched up." He doesn't seem like the sort of person who normally complains about such things.

Spoiler: *, **, ***

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* Yes, your stepmother is a witch, and more than a mere dabbler at that. It's generally an accepted profession, if not always one that people like or trust, and the Rodericks have a tendency to marry individuals with unusual talents.
** There is a remarkable degree of variety in the appearances of mortals descended from the fey. One thing of note is that most of them can slowly shift their appearance over long periods of time, though most often this is subconscious. This is part of why most fey-blooded individuals are fairly attractive, and also why most lesser fey's temperament can be determined by their appearance.
*** Black clothing is not as prevalent a funeral custom in Eord as in certain parts of our world, but it does appear from time to time, especially in the upper class. The Rodericks proper were all wearing black, since it was expected of them as nobles. Donny, however had/has such a motley assortment of friends that the funeral was a hodgepodge of colors (most not very bright, out of respect) and exotic patterns.

[Quellian-dyrae]

"You're...not stay- Aww-ww..." Ashley mumbled, looking and sounding...actually a little heartbroken. She actually had had some opportunity to encounter the Rodericks on occasion (mostly at Court functions). Sure, they had always basically ignored her, but she had convinced herself that that was just what they had to do, either due to their noble standing or because they very possibly didn't know about her in the first place. Still, she'd do little things like slip their favored foods into the menu for occasions when she knew they would be present.

But here, today, she had had high hopes. Down here, it was only the family, brought together by circumstances that affected them all, and openly acknowledging their connection. Surely, they could finally drop the secrecy and false disdain, band together and work together as a family and help each other through these difficult times and...

And...nope. Just more of the same. Another childhood fantasy burning down.

Well...well...fine then! That was...that was okay. Fair enough. Because she had several other siblings around who she hadn't even known had existed before today. She forced herself back to an even keel, impatiently wiped her eyes (totally because of the glitterdust! It should be obvious to everyone!) and turned her attention to the others as Catherine was beginning introductions.

"I'm Ashley," she said. "It's...I'm so glad to meet you all! Whatever the circumstances."

Spoiler

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It sounded like it was plausible that at least some of us would have interacted with the legitimate Rodericks before, but let me know if I'm taking that too far, I can edit if necessary. But I figure since Ashley's the daughter of a knight and basically a member of the court staff it would make sense. Although she could just as easily be from a neighboring kingdom or something.

[Dycize]

"Thanks." quipped Mirandelle once the magic got lifted off.

She listened to Gareth speaking, wondering if there was more to cold iron, or simply to this dagger, than it seemed.
Then she heard Cassandra(/Catherine?) and Ashley introduce themselves, and went back from pondering about weapons to pondering about her new family, who seemed quite... Emotional, to put it lightly. Two are nearly crying, one blasted off a spell after reacting to the creepy one, and the last one... Actually seemed fairly level headed. Spirited outburst not withstanding. Everyone has their moments.

"My name is Mirandelle. It's... Nice meeting you all."
And she stopped there, simply looking at her other siblings. Not that she knew what else to do, or say.

[DoctorGlock]

The cold dismissal stung. For a brief moment the song around him snapped and crystallized, as something cold and alien flashed through Lucien's mind. By the moon he wanted to hurt her. Freeze her like her heart, like the frigid wastes, like an insect in Amber...

No. The path of the righteous is strewn with travail and temptation. Where had that impure impulse even come from? The iron stank. It must be playing with his nerves.

His siblings were on the verge of tears. Not surprising, given the day so far. Part of Lucien wanted to follow suit. No. A paladin must be the bedrock of faith and foundation of strength that others may rest on. Father had said that. Well, not this new father, the one that wasn't dead. The man who raised him. He fought down the choking, and the cold alien hate, careful not to let them show. He forced a wan smile onto his face. Introductions were in order.

"My name is Lucien. Of the Order of the Holy Flame. Errr, our sister is kind of right... I am sort of a paladin... Kind of

The other sibling, now that one interest him. His song was right, but not right... The harmony was there but just out of key, as if slapped into the world's symphony. Lucien's gray cloak shuffled as he slipped a rune scarred rod out into his hand and poked Arty with it. Definitely solid.

But what are you?

[Qwertystop]

"I'm - "

Wait. They're all giving odd names. No title, no description... just wordless sound. And such a fright at the costume - he's good at scares, yes, but that barely took any effort! Why is everyone acting so weirdall of a sudden? Why this sudden interrogation? What's so odd//nothing's wrong//they're the weird ones//perfectly normal//one-among-many//sane man in the madhouse?

Best to blend in.

"Art."
"Arthur."
Close enough to their strange not-titles to pass, hopefully.

Spoiler: Bluff

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(1d20+17)[32]

[Oneris]

Corina regarded the trio coolly as they passed. Neither she nor they wished her presence here, on that they could all agree. The next meeting would likely be years in the future, and, with luck, after these unpleasant events were long forgotten. For some reason, the Polymagica frowned on its students taking part in the Season, and even after six years, she had attended scarcely two dozen functions, and mainly sporting events at that...

Oh, right. She actually had to pay attention to other five. It seemed introductions had begun while she was reminiscing on regattas future and past, and she'd missed the names of the first two that spoke. What she did catch precipitated a twinge of annoyance that sapped away any remaining warmth, however false. She nodded towards the others to acknowledge them, then turned to the Not-Paladin.
"Does my voice charm you so that you'd have me repeat myself? Once again: I am not your sister.

She fingered the expensive brooch at her neck as she spoke. Enameled upon the face in emerald were three serrated leaves, entwined. My name is Corina d'Mentha, eldest daughter of Lord d'Mentha."

Spoiler: House d'Mentha

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A recently created peerage for services rendered to the king. Though wealthy from trade, House d'Mentha is mere two generations old. The marriage of the current Lord d'Mentha to the heiress of the ancient House of Glenn (ten generations) cemented the family's claim to the rich farmlands of central Eord, but has not managed to raise their standing in court.

[Quellian-dyrae]

Corina's words stung some, but Ashley tried to figure out where they were coming from. Was it truly a mistake? Certainly, if so, she had a right to be somewhat cold. But that just seemed strange. If she had and knew her father, and even more if he was a member of the nobility. (Yeah, she thought she could recall the name d'Mentha from some Court functions, although Corina's face didn't strike her as particularly familiar. Had she seen her once or twice before on occasion? Mmm...maybe...) It didn't seem likely that the Rodericks would get that wrong. Some sort of play against the d'Mentha family? (Gah! She did not want to be thinking of this stuff right now. Court intrigue annoyed her.) No, that didn't make sense either, the Rodericks had several reasons to want to keep this under wraps, it wasn't a play they'd actually want to use. A third family trying at both? But who would know?

It just didn't seem likely to be faked and didn't seem likely to be a mistake, which left...

Oh my gods...she doesn't know!

Of course. Far as she and the rest of the world was concerned, she had a father. She had no reason to ask questions as a child and her parents had every reason not to entrust her with information that could damage their reputation and standing. And now here a bunch of people were trying to make a claim on her and tell her that her father really wasn't and of course she would respond coldly to that.

Ashley considered trying to talk this through with her, but rejected the idea almost immediately. This was one of those things where the more evidence you show, the harder a person will cling to their original beliefs. She had every confidence that words alone would prove insufficient to convince her, and could drive her away from them (thus putting her into danger, as she would still be a target of the fey). That said, she nonetheless believed that it was better to know the truth, even painful truths, than to be left in ignorance. And, well, she had personal reasons for wanting her sister to acknowledge the relationship too.

So, the solution, then. Don't confront her on it. Don't challenge her current beliefs. Just...be as good a sister as you can, let her warm up to the idea, and come to the conclusion on her own. Help her through it when she accepts it.

What about the others? They deserved to know too, to be sure. (The fact that Ashley's entire conclusion was based on conjecture, albeit reasonable conjecture, didn't stop her from seeing her conclusion as sure. There was no evidence to the contrary, after all!) But she couldn't discuss it in detail now. Play the role for the moment, discuss it with them later.

Nodding slightly to herself, Ashley said, "Well, it's good to meet you nonetheless, Miss d'Mantha. Sorry you got dragged into all this...but, you know, hopefully we'll be able to deal with these ruunpukae without much problem and can get everything cleared up." Mmm, yes, bit of a double-meaning on that statement.

[Dycize]

"...At least everyone is properly introduced now and that is cleared up. I still have no idea how we are supposed to deal with those creatures. Are we just supposed to wait until they come and deal with them?"

Mirandelle simply stood there, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. And avoid the matter that Lady D'Mentha here has the ability to leave. If she really wants to leave, she can, and letting her discuss the matter sounded like a stupid plan to Mirandelle. She already rejected the fact that she could be a sibling twice and seem to want nothing more but leave. She might just do that, and that would leave a bad taste if failure in negotiations lead to her death. Might as well keep the flow going in another direction.