[Nexus:] The Sleeping Goblin II, I Wonder If He's Up Yet?

[Murkus]

"It's Japanese for Rainbow."
She continues to hide!
And she's quite happy to see her dad, she's just scared of him!

Letting the others go about things that Bellan does not understand, the warrior pulls out a chair so that Rainbow might sit. "Japanese? The earth language?" Sudden interest fills his rich voice.

[Mindfreak]

"Look, I need something of equal value to her life to bring her back. Otherwise I can't do it. Whether that be a life, money, or just you soul, that's up to you."
Rainbow sits down in the chair and simply nods at Bellan's question, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

[Dark Elf Bard]

Elkandar nods. Money is the offer. How much?

[Mindfreak]

"I dunno. I've not had anyone try to pay with money before. After all, you need something equal to what was lost, and how can one measure the worth of a life in money?"
Rainbow hides her face. Her dad always did this. Just because he was a stupid Hormunculas, and preformed alchemy, everything had to be an equivilent exchange.

[orb_of_blood]

"The price of a life is the equivalent of the price of a Resurrection spell." Nixa leans on the staircase railing, looking down on them from about half-way between the levels.

The dragoness has little interest in this, despite the fact that the dead woman is her sister, but the opportunity for argument is near always one she leaps at.

"What you don't seem to realize is that we already have put a price on life. The price of the single spell which grants it again. And that's the same regardless of who has died, varying only due to who's selling or casting it. So, then it's only a matter of finding someone who can cast it. So can you, or can't you?"

[Murkus]

Rainbow sits down in the chair and simply nods at Bellan's question, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

"Truly? The speech of the ancients?" Bellan looks positively ecstatic. He looks at Rainbow with a bit of wonder in his eyes.

A person from Earth! Could it be the earth from which the Vraal sprang? He's not certain, but it's worth asking about. Besides, he doesn't get to hear about Man-home all that much, so... The muscled man props his hands on the table and leans forward, saying, "You must tell me of this Earth. Was it beautiful?"

Then the conversation continues! Bellan is distracted, both by the talk of lives being worth money and the fact that Rainbow's trying to hide her face. "Um... Perhaps later."

[Mindfreak]

"The price of a life is the equivalent of the price of a Resurrection spell." Nixa leans on the staircase railing, looking down on them from about half-way between the levels.

The dragoness has little interest in this, despite the fact that the dead woman is her sister, but the opportunity for argument is near always one she leaps at.

"What you don't seem to realize is that we already have put a price on life. The price of the single spell which grants it again. And that's the same regardless of who has died, varying only due to who's selling or casting it. So, then it's only a matter of finding someone who can cast it. So can you, or can't you?"

"Why of course I can, but like I said, I need something equal in value to what was lost. Whether that's money, a memory, a life or a soul, as long as you're creative enough, it'll pass."
Especially with that little jerk that decides if it's equal in value who hides behind that giant door of truth being an arrogant moron.

Rainbow nods, continuing to hide her face.

[Lazorath]

Um...what? Who?! Wait, what did you do! I'm going to talk with Mr...um...father guy over there. Two seconds...wash your hands.

Silver walks over to the sink and begins washing the blood off her hands.
"I should have ask people to help hold her down for me," she thinks, sighing to herself.

She looks over and finally notices the long scar on her arm. Her eyes immediately go for the stairs and her body follows the direction of her eyes as she sprints for the stairs without even having a chance to turn off the faucet.

[Murkus]

"One moment," says Bellan, standing and moving to address the homunculus. The Vraal attempts to tap his shoulder. "I offer you power, in exchange for this child's life. The Wheel gives generously, if the cause is just."

With a touch, the warrior attempts to convey a vision of this power. It is that of the great Wheel, an analogue for the Omniverse and all things within it. The power that Bellan offers is, more specifically, drawn from the Well of Love, an endless chasm of energy drawn straight from the hearts and minds of the Faithful. It can be used to heal wounds, regenerate flesh, provide charity, and defend oneself from attacks of a physical or metaphysical sort.

[Dark Elf Bard]

New arrival! ((No, not a drow.))

A halfling.

A dark-skinned halfling strides through the door. He wears a blindfold, but a hummingbird sits on his shoulder, and he seems to walk perfectly balanced. He's topless, but wears the fur of a lion across his shoulders and carries a simple wooden staff.

Hello. Would you know where Akoraun is?
He then turns his blindfolded head to T'rissylene. Ah. Do you need assistance in raising this child?

And yes, he's completely blind.

[orb_of_blood]

"I know where Akoraun is." Nixa answers the halfling, bright red eyes still fixed on her dead sister. "Not that telling you would do... well, any good at all."

Yes, she smells Shade down here. Lycanthropy has a certain odor of death and rot, one that cannot be overlooked. At least, not to a dragon with sharpened senses.

"Why are you asking after him?" She doesn't sound as though the topic interests her at all. But then, if it didn't, she wouldn't have asked. So perhaps on some level, Nixa really does care.

[Dark Elf Bard]

The halfling turns his head directly towards her, even with his blindfold. He smiles warmly.

Oh, I'm his adoptive father, miss. Who are you?

[orb_of_blood]

"I'm his sister," is the answer, "but really, if he's stupid enough to be kidnapped in the middle of a crowded tavern, I'm not exactly proud of that fact."

...that's a little harsh. But then again, that's Nixa.

[Mindfreak]

The hormunculas sighed. "Very well, that should work too." And then he's on the floor in a flash, drawing a large, circular design with strange symbols, along with lines connecting three smaller circles together in an equilateral triangle. In one of these small circles, he pours a small pile of a clear, sparkling dust. In another he pours a small pile of a golden dust. Finally, in the last circle, he cuts his finger open, and let's a single drop of blood fall in it. "Now if you'd just kindly placed the dead girl in the center circle, and used one of those powers you talked about, we'll be good to go."

[LOTRfan]

A man in a rather ridiculous looking uniform waltzes right into the bar. From the looks of it, he's heavily armed and armored. He's roughly six foot four, and wears green camouflage pants. His torso is covered in and red and white armor casing which features a red maple leaf on the front. His face is obscured by some sort of dark visor, and a form of body-glove that covers everything below the mouth.

He's heard that this is a less than reputable establishment, so Sergeant Psionics has come looking for a fight.

[ThirdEmperor]

Well, that's just ridiculous.

"Uhh... If it isn't rude, can I ask why you're dressed like that?" This little comment on Sergeant Psionic's rather, ahem, 'unique' fashion sense comes from a pale, bald man sitting at the bar.

[Hattish Thing]

"One moment," says Bellan, standing and moving to address the homunculus. The Vraal attempts to tap his shoulder. "I offer you power, in exchange for this child's life. The Wheel gives generously, if the cause is just."

With a touch, the warrior attempts to convey a vision of this power. It is that of the great Wheel, an analogue for the Omniverse and all things within it. The power that Bellan offers is, more specifically, drawn from the Well of Love, an endless chasm of energy drawn straight from the hearts and minds of the Faithful. It can be used to heal wounds, regenerate flesh, provide charity, and defend oneself from attacks of a physical or metaphysical sort.

Marty starts to cry a little. He rushes to hug Bellan tightly. Oh thank you! Bellan, I'll be in your debt! Thank you!

Silver walks over to the sink and begins washing the blood off her hands.
"I should have ask people to help hold her down for me," she thinks, sighing to herself.

She looks over and finally notices the long scar on her arm. Her eyes immediately go for the stairs and her body follows the direction of her eyes as she sprints for the stairs without even having a chance to turn off the faucet.

He looks over at her and frowns, he's far too overjoyed to actually go over to her and inspect the wounds.

The halfling turns his head directly towards her, even with his blindfold. He smiles warmly.

Oh, I'm his adoptive father, miss. Who are you?

Marty glares over, clearly spooked.

The hormunculas sighed. "Very well, that should work too." And then he's on the floor in a flash, drawing a large, circular design with strange symbols, along with lines connecting three smaller circles together in an equilateral triangle. In one of these small circles, he pours a small pile of a clear, sparkling dust. In another he pours a small pile of a golden dust. Finally, in the last circle, he cuts his finger open, and let's a single drop of blood fall in it. "Now if you'd just kindly placed the dead girl in the center circle, and used one of those powers you talked about, we'll be good to go."

ER....okay? He'll softly pick up Trissy, as if she could snap in half. He shivers, her skin was never so cold....He gently kisses her cherubic cheek before softly setting her into the circle. She will be okay?

[Dark Elf Bard]

The hummingbird buzzes about Marty's head and lands on Trissy's face, hopping along the scar. It pokes its beak along her cheeks, and then buzzes back to the halfling. After a few nods, the halfling strides over to Marty.

I need to do something to her, first. She's still got poison in her system. May I remove it?

((Also can I make the new thread?))

[LOTRfan]

Well, that's just ridiculous.

"Uhh... If it isn't rude, can I ask why you're dressed like that?" This little comment on Sergeant Psionic's rather, ahem, 'unique' fashion sense comes from a pale, bald man sitting at the bar.

Sergeant Psionics looks over at the bald man, grunting. "Yeah, a bit much, huh? I just wear what my superiors tell me. Evidently they wan't me to 'stick out.'" He chuckles, though the visor and the body-glove under his suit mask any emotion on his face. "Not exactly sure how that's supposed to help me out in a war zone, but you know how politicians are."

[Murkus]

Bellan is suddenly embraced, and he pats Marty lightly on the shoulder. He's getting used to the graciousness that comes in response to charity, but not hugs. Still not used to hugs. "That's really not necessary, Marty..." He doesn't like to be owed debts. For several reasons.

After Trissy's put in place, Bellan kneels beside her body. He raises his hands and holds them out to either side, palms out. Some may notice the veins beneath his arms glowing green briefly. The air around his fingers seems to ripple, as if there were some intense heat.

Then he claps, creating a resounding pop that should ring in everyone's ears. A subtle power seems to fill the air around them. A force and a feeling of rightness that is almost oppressive in its strength. "The Wheel is with us this day, my friends. You may proceed." He gestures toward Rainbow's father, then places his hands on his knees and bows his head in reverence.

[ThirdEmperor]

Sergeant Psionics looks over at the bald man, grunting. "Yeah, a bit much, huh? I just wear what my superiors tell me. Evidently they wan't me to 'stick out.'" He chuckles, though the visor and the body-glove under his suit mask any emotion on his face. "Not exactly sure how that's supposed to help me out in a war zone, but you know how politicians are."

"There's a war on?" This is news to Tom. But then, basically everything is news to Tom. He was unliving under some very heavy rocks for quite a while.

[LOTRfan]

The Sergeant stares at the bald man for a moment or so (or, at least it looks like he's staring, as its hard to be sure with the visor), before replying "No. There was, but somewhere far away. But I can't really fight in a war that's a world's length away, eh?"

[ThirdEmperor]

"Then you should probably get some new clothes that aren't so silly." Tom advises, nodding in agreement with himself. Seems a bit odd, wearing a uniform for a war you're not fighting in.

[LOTRfan]

He chuckles at this. "Old habits die hard." He thinks for a moment, before continuing. "Right now I'm just looking for something worth fighting for. Whats your name? Assuming you don't care aboot me asking?"

[ThirdEmperor]

Tom outright snickers at the Sarge's rather pronounced accent, but he gets over it quick enough. "I'm, ah, I'm Tom." Tom says, holding out his hand to shake.

[LOTRfan]

Although Tom won't be able to see it unless he can see through objects, the Sergeant has raised his eyebrows and is glaring slightly. He's rather annoyed that even hear people have that reaction as he talks.

He doesn't move to accept the handshake. "What're you doing here, Tom?"

[ThirdEmperor]

Tom shrugs, withdrawing the offered hand. "No reason really. Wandered in, never saw a reason to leave." Doesn't see much of a reason to do anything else either. Turns out death makes one remarkably zen. "This place is fun to watch."

[Dark Elf Bard]

Bellan is suddenly embraced, and he pats Marty lightly on the shoulder. He's getting used to the graciousness that comes in response to charity, but not hugs. Still not used to hugs. "That's really not necessary, Marty..." He doesn't like to be owed debts. For several reasons.

After Trissy's put in place, Bellan kneels beside her body. He raises his hands and holds them out to either side, palms out. Some may notice the veins beneath his arms glowing green briefly. The air around his fingers seems to ripple, as if there were some intense heat.

Then he claps, creating a resounding pop that should ring in everyone's ears. A subtle power seems to fill the air around them. A force and a feeling of rightness that is almost oppressive in its strength. "The Wheel is with us this day, my friends. You may proceed." He gestures toward Rainbow's father, then places his hands on his knees and bows his head in reverence.

Hold on a minute...

The halfling walks up to T'rissylene and taps her three times her on the forehead with his staff, muttering a few words and sprinkling herbs onto her eyelids. He then steps back as her large scar disappears from her face.

There. Now it's safe.

Elkandar rubs his neck. Marty, tell me when it's over. I hava headache and I don't want to watch this.

Elkandar then goes upstairs to his room.

[Dark Elf Bard]

New Thread

[LOTRfan]

Tom shrugs, withdrawing the offered hand. "No reason really. Wandered in, never saw a reason to leave." Doesn't see much of a reason to do anything else either. Turns out death makes one remarkably zen. "This place is fun to watch."

The armored man chuckles at this. "Yeah, I bet it is. How often do fights happen 'round here?"