The Black Shingle Fiasco

[JNAProductions]

"As long as it isn't some Eldritch and Unholy ritual to reverse the energy polarity of my very lifeforce requiring me to stand naked in a crystal jar under the eyes of lots of thoughtful older men talking about other things they want to do it me again, I'm in favour, miss. Hit me." Avita takes a quick half-jump back, and opens her arms in a gesture of acceptance. Or resignation. Or both. Or something.

I'm... I'm really not sure how to respond to that. But okay, Silvet says, placing her hand on Avita's shoulder and letting the energy flow through her. She feels the same thing Sarim did, the gentle, comforting coolness.

So... What exactly happened? And why?

[Kushina43]

"... Talk'ive human girl, ain'tcha? Di'nt quite get all o' whatcha said, but it sounded like a bad thing."
Sarim hefts his huge axe, trying to avoid smacking anyone with it, and checks over it for bad nicks or scratches like a ritual of its own.

[Marlowe]

"Oh, well. That's something I should make clear..." says Avita, lolling her head a little as though she's a little embarrassed by something. Then she hold up her right hand, her ungauntleted hand, and it abruptly crackles with a black halo of energy that seems to drain life out of the air. Then she touches it to herself. The blackness runs down her body and fades.

"Long story short; I'm cold meat. They made me that way to do the job they intended for. Me. I don't get healed by the white spells and hurt by the black, if you understand me; I'm the reverse. I can heal myself, as long as I'm standing. But if I get put down don't try to heal me with some white priest spell or portion. That'll kill me." She looks around to see the reaction to that little speech.

"Also, I drink too much and chatter about ethics, if anyone's interested. Anyone else got any important special needs the rest of us should know? "

[Kushina43]

"Ain't such a thing as too much drinkin' and chattin' 'round me. I like ya already"

[JNAProductions]

"Ain't such a thing as too much drinkin' and chattin' 'round me. I like ya already"

My constitution is ice, planar energies, dragons, and cold. If you can manage to get me drunk, I'll be impressed. But thanks for letting us know-hate to kill you trying to rescue you, especially when we just met.

[Marlowe]

Avita strikes the hands-on-hips pose again and cracks a proper smile. "No one running away screaming? Good. Just think of it as like your height or me being allergic to peanuts or something. Now..." , she steps sideways, between Sarim's bulk and the Dragonborn's height, and her eyes twitch toward the Nameless, silent Aasimar. "Anyone know the cutie? In any sense?"

[JNAProductions]

What cutie GAH! Silvet says, not having noticed the presence of the aasimar till now. Oh! Hi. I did not see you there.

[Marlowe]

"Strong, silent type." says Avita with a grin, and then;

Spoiler: in Draconic

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"So, she's not with you then?"

[Bartmanhomer]

Eric remains silent and frown a little.

[JNAProductions]

"Strong, silent type." says Avita with a grin, and then;

Spoiler: in Draconic

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"So, she's not with you then?"

Spoiler: Draconic

Show

No. Why are we talking in Draconic?

[Kushina43]

Sarim stares at the Aasimar.
"Pretty fellow might be scared. Body doesn't seem the combat type from what I can tell."

[Bartmanhomer]

Eric is annoyed with the different language that Silvet and Avita is speaking to. Eric: "Hey can both of you translated in plain Common please? Some of us don't understand the language. Namely me for example."

[Marlowe]

[REPLY TO SILVET]

"To see who can answer", replied Avita, back in Common. "To see how we might be able to speak without someone else listening in. However, if it's just you and me. We can stop."

OOC: Oh Gods! Eric doesn't speak anything!

[JNAProductions]

She was just asking if the last person was with me. To which I answered no, and asked why the heck she bothered asking in Draconic, Silvet says. Don't worry about it! she adds, grabbing Eric and scruffling his hair.

[Bartmanhomer]

She was just asking if the last person was with me. To which I answered no, and asked why the heck she bothered asking in Draconic, Silvet says. Don't worry about it! she adds, grabbing Eric and scruffling his hair.

Eric: "What the heck are you doing Silvet?"

[JNAProductions]

Eric: "What the heck are you doing Silvet?"

Being friendly. Besides, your hair looks better now! she says, looking at him. Er... Maybe not. I don't know. I'm not a "Hair" person, really.

[Bartmanhomer]

Being friendly. Besides, your hair looks better now! she says, looking at him. Er... Maybe not. I don't know. I'm not a "Hair" person, really.

Eric: Be careful with my hair. I just have it combed and I like it neat."

[JNAProductions]

Eric: Be careful with my hair. I just have it combed and I like it neat."

Alright. I'll avoid the hair in the future, Silvet agrees.

[Marlowe]

"Sure the demons will appreciate the effort" says Avita tonelessly, giving her own unruly, bone-pinned mass a quick shake. "Personally, I like a bit of tousle. Shows someone's not afraid to shake it up hard and get stuck in deep. Which provisionally today-" she runs a hand down her leathers. "-I probably shouldn't be doing. Since I am small and kinda squishy. But I'll be right behind..." Her eyes flick from Silvet to Sarim and back again. "...someone".

[Bartmanhomer]

Alright. I'll avoid the hair in the future, Silvet agrees.

Eric: "Thank you."

[Kushina43]

Sarim looks to the rest of the group and lets out a hearty laugh. "If we're scruffin' hair already, then I don't see 'ow we gettin' in many inter-peoples scrapes. We oughta do great slayin' these demons and whatever."

[YossarianLives]

Olidar raises an eyebrow at the... eccentric group of individuals before him. It's not often one sees a drow, a dworc, an aasimar, and... some sort of dragon-thing in the same room together.

Yes, Silvet replies. Do you know if these horrors are resistant to fire? Because that's what I do.

The young gnome shrugs. "Not usually. But that's the worst thing about those damned fiends - just when you think you know their ways, they change. Grow new limbs, start hurling magic..." Olidar shakes his head. "Adaptable, I suppose you'd call them." He nods at Silvet. "What she said, for the most part. They're bloodthirsty. At least that never changes."

K/The Planes(untrained, max 10)[roll0]

"Resistant to fire? Yeah, good question!" pipes in the small woman with bow and leather "armour". "Only thing I know on Demons is they want to torture, kill, and destroy everything that isn't them, followed by torturing, killing, and destroying each other. Like; the frell? But motivations aside, is there anything we can do now to give us a better chance?"

She draws an entirely mundane, normal, utterly standard issue arrow from her quiver and glares along its length. Anyone looking at her closely will notice that her eyes don't blink. "Like, should I be buying some special arrows or something? We got time to think of such?"

Olidar laughs loudly. It sounds strange coming from the small, obviously battle-worn gnome. "You've got that about right. The bastards love their torture, killing and destruction. As for advice, I'd say they can usually be beaten with superior tactics. Usually. Most of them are stupid; one they catch sight of "prey"."

"Thatta guy. Alright, what's the drill now? Summin' about civil-yans? Th' people who don't do the fightin', yeah?"

Olidar nods approvingly at Sarim's eagerness, giving him a warm smile. "Back when this all started, we managed to get most of the civvies out of Black Shingle, but we missed a few. And people can be stubborn about leaving their homes. We're meeting a group of them, about a dozen, at an old guard outpost and escorting them back here. There's no chance they'll make it this far undefended."

Eric frowns. Eric: "So why are we standing around here talking about demons anyway? Let get a move on!"

"Very true. I know you just arrived - you must be exhausted! - but there's really no time. Perhaps we can get better acquainted over a mug of ale, after the expedition. I must be off. Meet me at the stables, just downstairs, when you're ready to leave." He gives a quick salute, fist to chest, looks curiously at the strange aasimar, and dashes out the door, quickly as he came. You can hear his boots pounding on the inn's creaky old stairs as he descends.

[Kushina43]

"Right, a civvy escort mission. Not my favorite sorta job but we oughta." He gets another wicked tusked grin. "I'm not one to wish bad luck, but if monsters show up it ain't bad luck since I get ta kill the lot of 'em."

[JNAProductions]

Silvet offers her magic to everyone else present, making sure they're inured to her fires.

[Marlowe]

Avita absently unslings her bow. "Let's focus on getting them all back alive. On getting all of us back alive. When dead things lie, there is problem for the future..." She looks briefly sombre, then looks up at Sarim with a half-smile. "Of course, you killing any that come at us will make for an excellent start. Well, anyone got anything else to share? Or are we all just raring to go? " Her eyes flicker over to the Aasimar, and her eyebrow twitches.

[Kushina43]

"While the pretty one being rather silent is.. a bit unnervin', I'm eager to get my battle on and spill some demon blood." Sarim lifts his axe as high as the ceiling allows for emphasis, the weapon in full sight clearly larger than he is.

[Marlowe]

"She's probably just struck dumb by your incredible manliness. I know I am" says Avita with a half-smirk.

Bluff check: (1d20+4)[5]

"Or she has a sore throat. Manlyness. Sore throat. One can easily lead to the other...shall we go?"

[Bartmanhomer]

Eric smiles. He spoke to Olidar. Eric: "Good. The sooner we're better prepared, the better."

[wkwkwkwk1]

The yet nameless Aasimar leans against the wall, seemingly deep in thought, her left hand resting lightly on the sheathed longsword. The only sign that she's listening at all is the occasional smile at a particularly funny exchange.

The repeated prodding seems to produce an effect: as the gnome shuts the door, she sighs and pushes the wall with her back, stepping forward with light feet.

"Oh, I am with you guys all right," she chants in heavily accented Draconic.

"Excuse my Draconic. Been a while since I've had anything to do with a dragon at all. Y'all seem like nice people to be with, and an odd lot as well. No offense, mind you, seeing as I'm an oddity myself.

The name's Andras, by the way. A name for a lad, I know, but I didn't have a choice in the matter. Same for my true surname, which I have decided to keep to myself in the last... seventy years or so. If you want a surname, Sunblade's fine.

Now, shall we be going?"

[Kushina43]

"She's probably just struck dumb by your incredible manliness. I know I am" says Avita with a half-smirk.

Bluff check: (1d20+4) [5]

"Or she has a sore throat. Manlyness. Sore throat. One can easily lead to the other...shall we go?"

"Hmm? What's this, now?"

Spoiler: Sense Motive Check:

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(1d20+0)[18]

Sarim's brow furrows a little. "Thanks for th' kind words, miss Avita, but I don't think you think it's me. Anyways, glad to fin'ly talk to ya, miss Andras. And as for yer questions, you already know I'm rarin' to go."