Dungeons and Dragons discussion
Instruments of Fate (Batman)
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Instruments of Fate (With Pulp)
((Do you have a name or do I give her one? XD))
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((Unfortunately no. Funny enough, I used to write Choose Your Own Adventure type stories for my sister on loose leaf notebook paper. One character called her by name and she was like, "Sorry? HOW DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?" The character was like, "Oh. I was on your sweater." It's kind of an inside joke between us.))
Anwen paused, looking surprised with herself. "There. . . actually hasn't been a free moment to ask her for her name. It's been a bit of focusing on getting things done as quickly as we can for her. . ."
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@Anwen, Reggie raises an eyebrow at you before walking away to speak with the waitress. "Fair enough, I suppose." He mutters as he walks away. The purple door to the illusions room stands partially ajar just behind you.
Anwen watches the man move over to the waitress, pressing her lips into a fine line, before slowly stepping back. She turned around and slipped into the door, hoping to barely move the door to avoid bringing anymore attention to herself.
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Anwen took in the room before pursing her lips. All. . . purple. . .Has been associated with illusion but certainly associated with wealth. This is a lot of purple. So much dye. . . How much does this theater even make?!
Anwen walked slowly and carefully, taking in as much as she could and committing it to memory, especially the book and mirror. She hovered near the book, starting to put her hand above it as she felt the weight on her bones and emptiness in her veins. Right. Used my spells already. My. . . connection. . . is too weak right now.
Anwen pulled her back, deciding to save that for last as she moved to the mirror. "Reality doesn't normally allow this," she muttered, tilting her head as she watched the pieces. "Unless you're not real?"
Anwen carefully reached out again and gently flicked one piece, seeing if it even connected. Despite being told not to mess with the scene, she was slightly confident in her interpersonal skills. And this was the most excitement she had in months! Perhaps a little too much excitement. . .
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((XD All good. Rest well!!))
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When you touch the floating glass shards, one of the edges slices your palm, drawing blood. ((Take 1 damage and make a wisdom save, please.))
@Henry, You and Matthias make your way back to the tavern. The door is missing and the entryway blocked off with a length of chain nailed to the wood jamb. Three city guards are keeping the curious crowds away. Just inside, you see a man with his back to you. He is wearing a long maroon coat with an odd floral and paisley pattern that looks as though it was made of curtains. The hem and his soft leather boots are caked in dried mud.
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you a lopsiped grin. The left half of the face freezes, hair turning stark black even as the other half exhibits your own involuntary expression of shock. The reflection's wide open eye turns silver, then jet black as your view shifts to fall into it like an open pit. You find yourself floating, weightless, in a dark void, illuminated only by tiny pinpricks of light. One of the lights suddenly grows brighter and brighter until you have to shut your eyes and throw up a hand to block it. The mercury like substance that coats your hand coalesces into a bead and rolls out of your grip where it hits the ground below you.
Ground? You look down and find your self standing on a disk of gray rock that appears silver and white in the light reflecting from its surface. You instinctively know you shouldn't be able to hear anything, but a low hum fills your mind and causes the ground to shake beneath you. It just begins to register as an amused chuckle before you realize you can't breath and vainly gasp for breath before blackness surrounds you.
You open your eyes to find yourself standing back in the purple room again. A mirrored orb just small enough to fit in your palm lies at your feet. A shadow seems to move just beneath the glass.
~~~
@Henry, Matthias shrugs. "They've probably sanctioned it off as an active crime scene by now. The man inside is likely a detective from one of the guilds sanctioned by the crown to handle this sort ofthing." His brow furrows. "Though he dresses more like some sort of foppish bard or jester. Perhaps a Chronicler or a playright?"
((CRUD. Will reply tomorrow. OH CRUD))
Anwen winced at the cut, looking down at her hand as she was about to suck the wound clean, when she paused. What is… Anwen's eyes widened as she stared at the changing reflection. She wanted to cry out as she began to fall but found her voice caught in her throat.
Anwen covered her eyes, mouth still agape, as the orb fell from her hand and hit rock?
Ow! That's not outside--laugher?! Anwen, having been staring at the orb, raises her non-injured hand to cover her ear as she winces, looking for a source.
Anwen tries to call out but finds there is no air. She grasps at her throat, trying to breathe as barely a blink later, she's back in the room, shaking.
Anwen looks down at the orb and gulps, breathing heavily and quickly. "That is, at a bare minimum, powerful illusion magic," she whispers, massaging her throat.
Anwen pulls her hand back to look at the wound before looking at the glass shards. This is……levels above me. I-I…there isn't anything I can do… Anwen looks back to the door and swallows hard. If I can't do anything, they certainly can't.
Anwen looks back down at the orb and begins to reach for it when she pauses. She uses her skirt to pick it up and put it into her bag. Maybe their detectives are strong enough to take on this threat. But not this theatre
Anwen took one last look around the room before quickly hurrying out.
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The waitress gasps when she notices you as well. She leaves the other gnome to follow you out even as he sputters and calls for the two of you to come back and finish the interrogation. In the theater's lobby, you see the silver girl sitting on the floor. The orc sitting next to her awkwardly pats her back as gently as he can manage. The girl hurriedly wipes tears away from her eyes as she catches sight of you and whispers something. The orc explains, "She says 'Sorry.'"
@Henry, The man in the red coat turns, tails sweeping overdramatically. "Is that so, Good Sir? So you're a witness then? Excellent! I need a full testimony." He whips a quill and parchment from a pocket and then realizes he needs some way to support the page. He moves to stand behind Matthias and places it across his upper back. "It'll do. Please stand still." He then glances at you. "Proceed. What do you know about cult activity?"
Anwen turns to Reggie, uncertain what to say, as the waitress hurries over. "He is far to strong to engage," she explained, voice a tad shaky, as she took the waitress' hand and hurried out. Anwen had made it halfway through the lobby before the woman's apology registered. "Pardon? What. . . are you sorry for?" her voice was gentle and calm. There was not much she could do about her tense posture or racing heart. But an apology was unexpected and this woman was upset.
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The orc meets your eyes and shrugs, rubbing the girl's back in circular motions.
Anwen pursed her lips, running through her memory before recalling their encounter. Why did I not notice the comment before? I should have noted it. It would have. . . not sure what it would have done. Perhaps not left me so surprised at the start?Anwen swiftly but softly closed the distance between them and knelt before the wonderful performer, making sure to keep the bag away from them. "There is nothing I need forgive or you apologize for. There's a wicked force at play in this town--something straight from a wizard's tale. You are as much a victim as we all are.
"Now, if you can, answer me this: Has this happened before?"
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@Anwen, The girl seems to think about it for a fraction of a second too long. "No...? No. I'd have remembered if it had... right? It certainly hasn't happened to me anyway."
The orc speaks up. "One time, I forgot to say 'Bless You!' to Carson Calibri after he sneezed and he accidentally stepped through a dry rotted board in the stage during his big song and dance."
The girl snorts and tries to hold back a smirk. "To be fair, he kinda deserved it. And he wasn't hurt, save for his pride, which was too big by at least half anyway, so I don't feel too bad." She puts her hand on the ground to give herself leverage as she stands awkwardly. "Um, anyway... what's this about a plot? You think there's a conspiracy?" She mutters something under her breath.
@Henry, "Well sure. Every cult needs funding. Candles and robe rentals are relatively expensive in bulk, especially for regular meetings." The detective jokes as he writes down a transcript of the answer. "Not to mention the ingredients. "Basalisk venom, I'd wager. Hmm... There's something else here besides. Something I've not seen since..." He clears his throat. "Forgive me. I'm rambling."
((All good.))Anwen frowns slightly, willing to let one odd response slide but two? She watches the woman for a moment before standing up as well, holding the strap of her bag. "Before I answer, is there anything, absolutely anything, no matter how small or trivial, you feel I need to know? An odd event or interaction, a feeling or thought, a suspicion or motivation? Anything at all?"
Anwen made sure to stand a respectable distance away, unsure if the orb has a kind of strange aura that would affect others. Anwen wasn't even sure if it would, somehow, affect her. She was uncertain how to determine that.
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((It looks like Austin hasn't been active for a while now. . .))
((He is very actice, dw, he just is always logged in so goodreads thinks that he hasn't been online as he hasn't signed in))
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((Uh, I am not quite sure what to do, I would love to join though!))
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@Henry, The detective waves his hand dismissively, the quill inches from your nose. "Something about a river, I think? Honestly, don't remember." He shrugs. "I've been to a lot of places. That'd probably be worth remembering if I could, hmm? Oh, well. This kinda thing tends to happen with age, doesn't it? Did I spell 'Wanion', correctly?"
Anwen watched the girl for a long moment, beginning to feel that perhaps this girl was under some kind of control/manipulative spell, before looking at the orc. "Who is Garrett?" she inquired quietly, pursing her lips tightly in thought. "And, final question, have you met anyone strange or new? Perhaps received a new gift from an admirer or ate a meal at a new place that recently closed? Anything of that nature."
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"The Maitre d'hôtel of the blue building." The girl provides.
"Yes. That. He likes his big words, Garrett does." The orc smiles and looks thoughtful. "Didn't you get some new medicine in the mail recently?"
"Yeah. For allergies. Had to send it back though because it made me crazy drowsy, which it wasn't supposed to do. Had some WILD dreams. I think it may have been the other kinda medicine. The kind where you wink when you say it. Don't buy prescription potions from Kobolds. Just saying. Oh wait... you think...?" She trails off.
@Henry, "Beg pardon?" The bard asks. "Who is 'Anwen'? Did something I say trigger a thought? You think she's connected to this?" He points vaguely at the tavern. "By the way, are you aware that there is a mandrake in your pocket? Don't let anyone catch you with that, if you catch my drift. Oh, and don't eat it. It'll ruin your appetite, then your stomach, then your life. And by ruining your life, I mean ending it. Now, if you're really looking for a WILD time, there's this guy..." He cuts off abruptly.
Anwen tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "Hmm. Possibly related to that. . ," she quickly fished around in her bag, glancing at the orb, before pulling out a journal and a writing tool. "If you don't mind, could you please tell me the name of the supplier? Have you gotten your medicine from them before?"
She glanced back at the waitress, biting her lip for a moment, before turning back to the poor woman. "I plan to see if it was intentional and go from there. And if Maitre d'hôtel Garret also was a customer."
Ah yes, I met him in the other building. Interesting fellow.
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@Anwen, "When you say it like that, it makes me sound like a junkie. Like I said, it was supposed to be prescription. The apothecary has a delivery service. I thought he was with them. Had a little labcoat. Though to be fair, looking back, it was kinda grubby. But, you know, it's white. He's close to the ground." She shrugs. "Didn't get his name, but he had mottled scales. Green and brown."
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Anwen looked taken-aback. "Oh I am dreadfully sorry. I do not think that of you at all. If I did not travel as much, I would see if an apothecary could help me."Anwen wrote down the notes before nodding once. "I thank you very much for your help. I will see what I can do--this is not the only impossible thing to happen today--and I hope that you feel better soon. I will be on my way. My friend has had a bit too much excitement today and I am hoping to help get her back on her feet.
"It was a pleasure meeting both of you!" Anwen waved with a kind smile as she turned to hurry off.
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@Anwen, "You too!" They called. "Good L... Goodbye!"The last bit sounded nervous. The waitress follows you once more, waving at the silver-skinned girl and the orc. "So..." she teased. "Are you ever going to ask anyone's name? Aside from the drug dealer's?" She smiled, hoping that the joke wasn't pushing it.
Just then, Aquilla comes into view in the distance. She starts to jog toward the square between the buildings and stops near you, panting heavily. Her arms are full of books and papers and writing utensils. "Hey!" She breathes deeply. "Hi!" She draws in another breath. "You look busy. Is this a bad time?" She takes another moment to catch her breath.
"Break a leg!" Anwen waved back with a smile. She gently closed the door behind them and turned to her friend. "Well, I normally do but today has not been very normal. I would like to know yours," she answered with a smile as well.
Another development. I wonder what the probability of completing one plot line before a new one appears.
Anwen turned to the wonderful owl and smiled warmly. "Lady Aquilla! What can I help you with, once you catch your breath of course."
@Henry, The herbalist closes the lid on the distillery, already packed to the brim with Mandrakes, and flashes what teeth she still has left. "I'll have a new batch in a few hours, but you're welcome to take some of my
vintages." She pulls a glass jug from a sack sitting near her feet full of amber liquid. "There's a stash of coins under my mattress, if you want monetary compensation!"