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Darya, who has brought Sword with her to not let him out of her eyes, is just finishing a rather generous breakfast. She chows down, sighs once and then sits up straight to begin her report.
"Alright, since all of you know different parts of the story, I'll just tell the whole thing from the beginning:
When at the stables yesterday I was asked by what was probably Sword but might also have been Tishtina or one of her messengers speaking in his name to stay the night. The reason became abundantly clear when in the middle of the night we were attacked by the man some of you have already seen. And I'll have to say that while he wasn't a match for me he certainly was a competent assassin, not some hired thug. Although discovering the sign of Dantilus Telgar does clear that up anyway, but in any case he wasn't a pushover.
The most interesting part is that he wasn't going for me at all, he actually turned his back to me when he was losing the fight to get a desperate hit on Sword. He didn't, but both me having to stay at the stables and him sacrificing his life to go for Sword are pretty strong signs there. Unfortunately I couldn't make him give up and protecting Sword didn't have time to end it nonlethally. I guess we can get out some bare minimum with magic though.
I personally believe that this isn't so much about the race but about Sword's role in the prophecy. The attacker was a fanatical cultist of a dark god, an assassin is probably to expensive to hire against a race competitor that seems weak and we've had multiple sign for Sword to be part of the prophecy.
So what's your opinions, and what did you find out from the body?"
__________________ "Ceterum censeo mediomundum esse delendum."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Claudius Maximus
A balor is literally made of evil - for all we know it's composed of malecules and cruelectrons.
I will leave this world like I entered it - screaming and bathed in blood.
Dot starts wih the last question, since it's the one she's most capable of answering.
"There were no distinctive markings on the body, and no belongings that would further distinguish him. Which suggests a pro, and someone who was already staying somewhere here in town. There was a range of relatively powerful magic items - a sword, an amulet, gloves, and so forth, in case anyone would like to take a look. As I mentioned last night, Darya's theory that this attempt was related to our mission and not the race also suggests that the worshippers of other gods know more about the future of our quest than our own goddesses. Not a situation I'm particularly happy about.
"I'm hoping that we might be able to pry some answers from the remains of this killer. I don't suppose anyone has a gift for speaking with the dead?"
__________________
Peridot avatar (complete with demon consorts) courtesy of the very talented Telasi.
Despair favours the status quo. It is a luxury we cannot afford. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk
Though not saying anything out loud, Lok-too-loo-baz telepathizes directly with Dot, "Prophecies are made through the living, not the dead. Other than what I know about Dantilus' cult of assassins, The One has given me no ability to learn from the dead themselves."
(Note, I never listed magic items found on the dead assassin, amulet of health +6 & natural armour +4, gloves of dexterity +4, belt of strength +4, short sword +2, boots of speed, bracers of armour +4)
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Editing my post above to reflect this. Also, I'm happy to have others take the gear, but Dot would like to distribute the leftovers among her menagerie, as loaners.
__________________
Peridot avatar (complete with demon consorts) courtesy of the very talented Telasi.
Despair favours the status quo. It is a luxury we cannot afford. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk
Not one to leave a client before he wakes, Melinda shows up slightly late for the morning gathering. She is clearly dressed for a day at the races. Over the usual form-defining garments, the bardess is wearing a light golden chemise with metallic thread embroidering over a frilled ruby-red skirt. A grass-reed parasol lies balanced over her shoulder, and her earlobes sport a pair of ruby earrings that match the party's new necklaces.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Peridot
"I don't suppose anyone has a gift for speaking with the dead?"
Melinda shakes her head. "Not me, Dot." She instinctively looks at the Nocticulans of the group, wondering if any of them will pick up that lead. "You know, we could consider making a stink about it. The authorities won't look kindly on any interference in the races, even if it's on a massive underdog. Lia, do you think that's worth doing? Or do you think we'd be safer without the extra commotion?"
She looks to the horse, and her eyes betray a trace of worry. "Darya, how has Sword been feeling since the incident? How's his appetite?"
At Melinda's question, everyone's gaze flicks absently to Sword. What they see surprises them just a little. Instead of Sword's usual bored and eating just because there is nothing better to do attitude, he is actually munching down on some real (horse) food right now, and then looking around like he might interested in a treat of some kind.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
As the discussion continues, a young page boy comes running up to the stable area where the group is talking. He skids to a halt, mouth slightly agape at the sight of so many beautiful women, and then stammers out his message.
T-T-Theyve drawn out-t-t the post p-p-positions ma'am, m-m-ma'ams-s-s...Sword got d-d-drawn into the pole, the first p-p-position.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Darya was just beginning to answer "Well, as you can see he's much more respons-" when the boy barges in. She stares at him blankly for a few moments but quickly regains her composure.
"Alright, this is a little surprise. I guess our nightly admirer has contacts around here. This just might reduce our bets a bit, or it might just be a mockery. But whatever it is supposed to mean, I am quite sure that Sword does not need but very well deserve it.
Don't you think, too?" she asks in Sword's direction.
__________________ "Ceterum censeo mediomundum esse delendum."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Claudius Maximus
A balor is literally made of evil - for all we know it's composed of malecules and cruelectrons.
I will leave this world like I entered it - screaming and bathed in blood.
"And which horses are in the other positions?" She instinctively suppresses a laugh at the boy, who might almost be taller than she is. "Who drew them? Did they send you to tell Sword's jockey?"
S-S-Sword holds the inside position, n-n-ext to him is P-P-P-Private Smiles, then M-M-My Gallant, Twice a Prince, and S-S-Sham to the outside. The positions were drawn by the J-J-Jockey Club, of course. I-I-I-I was sent to tell Sword's rider, just as others were d-d-dispatched to tell the others.
Sword snorts his head just a bit at Darya's words, perhaps he reacted to them or perhaps he was just getting down the last of his oats. He comes forward to the amazon however, sniffling at any saddlebags she might have, seeing if there might be any treat inside, like an apple or sugarcubes.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Darya grabs something suitable for Sword off the breakfast table and feeds it to him.
"Maybe, but I'd rather not spend every night in the stables and I doubt that's what Tishtina had in mind for me when she chose this. After all, who if not her can appreciate a nice bed and company?"
__________________ "Ceterum censeo mediomundum esse delendum."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Claudius Maximus
A balor is literally made of evil - for all we know it's composed of malecules and cruelectrons.
I will leave this world like I entered it - screaming and bathed in blood.
Dot's eyebrows shoot up, but she rolls with it and responds mentally to Darya only.
"Ah yes. I seem to recall hearing of an ancient leader who tried something similar. Catherine the Great, she was called. Well, whatever you think will help Sword."
She expands to the rest of the group.
"No one for the body, then? Hmm. Well, I suppose that we can make arrangements when we're next back at a temple. If no one objects, then, I'll tuck this away. Nothing spoils a party like a dead killer."
__________________
Peridot avatar (complete with demon consorts) courtesy of the very talented Telasi.
Despair favours the status quo. It is a luxury we cannot afford. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk
There is an apple on the table, a nice red and big one. Sword seems happy to crunch through it, even though it doesnt last too long in his jaws.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
"Great," Melinda lets out, resigned. Over the night Sword had progressed from mopey teenager to petulant eight-year-old. Well, at least she knew how to deal with eight-year-olds. The bardess shifts emotional gears on a dime. She whistles a little charm to make sure he understood. "Oh Swo-ord...," she tempts. "Look what I've got here?" She was holding a pear in front of her, red and green and delectably ripe. Hide all the other ones, quickly.
"Ah - ah - ah...!" Melinda retracts the pear to her own chest, and then to the other side of her body as she turns a shoulder to the inevitable obtrusive nose. "Not for you. Not for you yet. You just had an apple." She puts her hands on her hips and wears her sternest Auntie look. "And you didn't ask for it first. Bad boy." She shakes her head. Then with a crunch she takes a juicy bite out of the fruit to let its wet fragrance waft into the air. "No no no, if you want a piece of this, you're going to come out with Darya and me to the track. And you're going to run as fast as you can. You hear me? As fast as you can." There was ever so slight a hint of magical push in her voice.
At the obvious mention of the track being occupied, Melinda sighs. "...Fine, we'll go somewhere else. There's got to be a park of some sort open... or we'll just trek to the outskirts of town and be back before noon."
Melinda's plan to use healing magic on Sword if he runs today should allow them to do a warm up today...and seeing as the rest of the day's races dont start until noon, they can at least run on the Belmont track right now. Unfortunately, when they head out for the practice, it produces more japes from onlookers.
Race isnt for several hours ladies
Maybe with that headstart he'll manage a show result
Maybe she wants to see which way shes going to have to go when it starts
Worse still, when they get Sword out on the track and try to have him run, the results are no better than before, even with Melindas planned reward of fruit.
Either he is dead or my watch has stopped
Last one across the line wins a consolation prize
Thanks for boosting the betting pot
As the group trudges back to the stables, things certainly dont look any rosier than before. Darya is able to lay on hands to restore all the energy that Sword exerted, but by the looks of it, it wasnt much.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Taleira meets the rest of the group, looking pleased with herself. On seeing the general look of unhappiness on her returning teammates, Tali suppresses her smile and manages to look concerned. "What's wrong?"
__________________
Demon-form Taleira Ulharvyth by me
Lia has been conspicuously quiet since the early morning when she took an hours rest from her vigil over Sword.
Whilst the others gather and discuss matters Lia seems lost in thought.
After a time, once the others return from the track, Lia absently offers Sword a couple of sugar cubes as she strokes his nose.
With a quick look to make sure Melinda isnt going to cut off her off at the path, Sword moves quickly to get the proferred sugar cubes from Lia, who now has a very wet hand.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Melinda doesn't move to stop him. She is far too perplexed to do so. Having finished her pear in disgust, the bardess has her arms folded across her chest, and softly knocks her own head against the stick of her parasol over and over again. She runs detect thoughts to see if she can detect any transition in Sword's feelings between trotting happily up for treats and then simply refusing to run.
"What's wrong, huh, boy? Why is life not worth living?" It was completely unclear what precisely the issue was that caused the horse to lack for spirit. She couldn't imagine that Sword was in any way mistreated as a foal. But how else could a horse have such grand issues of temperament, in the hands of as capable a trainer as Carson?
With nothing left to do before the race, the party merely spends their time waiting for the race time. Most of the group seems resigned to their fate, not sure of how to inspire Sword to do great things, but Darya seems calm, bolstered by her faith in Tishtina.
About an hour before the race, Casandra and another woman show up in the stables to wish the group well. Initially, Casandra seems as dubious as the rest of the group, but she has faith as well, and trusts in Tishtina guiding Darya to this horse. She tells the party that Dalcar and Zanthia are around somewhere, but probably wont show up at the stables, horses just arent their thing.
After she leaves, time passes quickly, and when the call to the post sounds, Darya mounts up, and with Dot leading the reins, they join the post parade out onto the track, and once around in front of the stands.
The horses come to the starting gate, and Sword, holding the post position is loaded in first. As the gate behind them closes....a change comes over Sword. He seems to swell in size, growing into the promise that his legs always seemed to give. His coat smooths, fills out, and colours up perfectly to the classic chestnut color, truly now a Big Red, and his mane becomes proud and long. Darya, sitting astride him can tell, he is now a truly magnificent steed, more than suitable to be called a paladin's warhorse. As well, the long hoped for mental contact is joined, and Sword's first thoughts to her are....Lets RUN! He looks around with disdain at the other horses, how dare they share a starting gate with him. With that thought, the starting gate opens, and.....
and once done, the scroll of prophecy shines once more...The Sword that has not been broken must be fixed, and joined to us.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
'Laelle' smiles, thinking of the coin won for herself (and for those who gave her money ... I have to go back in the posts and be careful to make sure everything is done). She senses 'Lukasz' beaming and she looks back and up to him.
"It seems we've done well today ... we've all done well," telecasts Lil.
"True, there's the coin as well ..." thinks Lok to Lil.
'Laelle' studies 'Lukasz' for a minute and thinks 'out loud', "Oh, please, don't tell me you prophesied this."
"Of course not, my Lady," shrugs 'Lukasz,' who then smiles even more broadly, "I didn't prophesy this ... it was prophesied by Cassie some 800 years ago."
Tallesin watches the race from a spectator's box for the well-to-do merchants, dressed in a fashionable but appropriate suit. Engaging his peers in polite small talk, he struggles to hide his growing concern over Sword behind his usual foppish demeanor, but even so, his fears of defeat are palpable.
The miracle that instead occurs on the racetrack puts the talkative wizard at a loss for words. Among the merchants, Tallesin is left a stiffly formal, stunned man, but mentally he is simply lost in a blissful swirl of thoughts about Sabrina, the quest and the emerging trinity. As the crowds disperse, he staggers down to join the others, but still he is relatively speechless at Darya's victory. "That was... my lady, you were... that is to say... erm... quite good. Yes." Embarrassed, he positions himself towards the group's edge, where he hopefully will have the time to collect himself before speaking further. Tallesin's raven familiar clucks at him, trying to break the man out of his stupor, but for now, the mage is captured by his rejoicing thoughts. For all his tongue-tied words, the smile that bursts through it all indicates he truly is happy, and unlike previous ones, this is no smirk or joking grin but an actual delighted smile.
[OOC: For any theater fans out there, this is how Tallesin and his crowd would behave at the races.]
__________________ NOTE: I'm working in the mountains from now until the start of August. We have internet, but staff breaks are often sparse, so please be patient with me.
Current D&D Games: Tallesin Eliado: the world's best-dressed battlemage
Thanks to Telasi for the custom avatar of Tallesin Eliado
As soon as the race is over, Dot and co are at the window to collect their earnings. No sense in delaying, and there'd be plenty of time to congratulate horse and rider later, after the public accolade-ing has taken place. She does her best to avoid grinning very widely.
Spoiler
Just in case, Dot will have true sight and arcane sight active during her transactions at the casino's booth.
__________________
Peridot avatar (complete with demon consorts) courtesy of the very talented Telasi.
Despair favours the status quo. It is a luxury we cannot afford. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk
The clerks at the betting window are quite calm when handing over the money to Dot and the rest of the group, after all, the casino's system of paramutuel wagering ensures that they dont lose money no matter what happens. Of course, there are a few disappointed horse racing patrons, especially the owners of Sham (who, in the final analysis even got passed by Private Smiles and finished last) who arent pleased with the party's winnings but thats the way the game works.
__________________
Those that bite the hand that feeds them quite often lick the boots that kick them.
Twitter: It's a small weapon, aimed indiscriminately at a viewership/readership that has mastered the art of over-reactive hyperventilation at the speed of light. - Ray Ratto
Lil telepathizes to the others, "Take it from a girl who manipulated others into bad decisions ... don't spend all of this in one place - as in region or kingdom, even half a continent. Unless, of course, you wish to chuckle when you see the economy collapse."
She picks up her winnings and those of her client (Darya), then hands over Darya's winnings.
What is the actual currency in question? I'm sure there isn't enough gold itself on the platinum to handle this ...
Dot also heads out of the betting parlour immediately, and distributes winnings appropriately.
"I believe that Lil is right. Perhaps, before we go, we can leave a portion with a local steward - the former owners of the house, perhaps - for the construction and maintenance of the shrine."
__________________
Peridot avatar (complete with demon consorts) courtesy of the very talented Telasi.
Despair favours the status quo. It is a luxury we cannot afford. ~ Andrew Nikiforuk
Cassandra's appearance does very little to cheer Melinda up, and the news that Dalcar and Zanthia will be watching from the shadows makes it worse. She has largely resigned herself to her own humiliation already as she heads for the race.
She closes her eyes as the bell goes off, lets herself and her spirit get out of the way of anything that might happen. The bell rings. She counts to four. Then Melinda opens her eyes, and a gasp of new hope escapes her lips as she realizes that five horses and not four have darted out of the starting gates. With sheer amazement she watches as the race takes form.
One of old myths of the fellowship that had never made any sense was about how Melias had created horses in an attempt to seduce Sabrina when she was still a young goddess, but that he himself fell in love with the creatures he'd created and run off to enjoy them instead. Melinda finally understood how it was possible for such a myth to have taken root.
Quote:
Originally Posted by the Announcer
Sword by twelve!...Sword by fourteen lengths!
Together, Darya and Sword made winning look so easy, like breathing in and out. Together, they could have run around the earth, as if none of the other horses or riders, or even the track, were even there. Where did that energy come from?
This is the power of trust, said one of her own voices from within her heart, a voice which she had not allowed herself to hear for many years. Against a seemingly endless void of uncertainties, trust in another, trust in that same's trust in oneself, can unlock the future itself.
Against that proposition, Melinda realized, she still felt fake, naked, and alone. She was rich now. And her Fellowship was yet richer. This only threw into relief how that basest of Sabrinan jokes, which she had playfully thrown at Elise while they were trading the dozens during the Cups, really belonged now on her own head. As much as Melinda was in it for love, and fellowship, and art, and celebrity, she was in it for the money. Her achievements in these past few days had made her nearly perfect as a Sabrinan. But would it do for a Triune goddess of love? That was much more unclear.
As Darya rounds the bend and her features come once more into view, Melinda lays her heart's doubts aside. Now was not the time for such thoughts. The Fellowship had too much initiative for her to waste any of it on petty misgivings of her own past.
The bardess lets out a hearty cheer for the victorious duo as Sword thunders past the finish line.
**
"We have some decent financial resources of our own now," Melinda comments as Dot proceeds with the distribution. "I don't know what Dot's planning to do with hers, but I was serious about leaving my share of the winnings to this project, building a base for our cause. We should devote some effort to considering how we can best invest these winnings. Ten people would be hard pressed to spend thousands of mithril without wasting it like fools."
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Re: Three Goddesses - IC (Thread #2)
