L'ennui
Magister
"... and what, exactly, was your relation with Uvan? Is there anything about him you think we ought to know?" Urash asks, eyes narrow in suspicion.
"In your dealings with people, have you met another Man-of-kor such as this one?" Borric gestures at Urash, "Only the one I speak of was not of scholarly dignity, but more given to skulking in the shadows."What's the roll I gotta make to know if I can trust Solon, to sense he is telling the truth? Insight? Perception? Instinct?
"In your dealings with people, have you met another Man-of-kor such as this one?" Borric gestures at Urash, "Only the one I speak of was not of scholarly dignity, but more given to skulking in the shadows."What's the roll I gotta make to know if I can trust Solon, to sense he is telling the truth? Insight? Perception? Instinct?Insight. I'll roll it for you
Borric doesn't detect any body language or subtle clues that would indicate Solon is lying. Either he's a skilled liar, or he's telling the truth.
"In your dealings with people, have you met another Man-of-kor such as this one?" Borric gestures at Urash, "Only the one I speak of was not of scholarly dignity, but more given to skulking in the shadows."What's the roll I gotta make to know if I can trust Solon, to sense he is telling the truth? Insight? Perception? Instinct?Insight. I'll roll it for you
Borric doesn't detect any body language or subtle clues that would indicate Solon is lying. Either he's a skilled liar, or he's telling the truth.Was gonna roll, but ok, post roll pl0x.
Guys halp. Anyone remember which thread our talks with the good people of Crannogmere were? I'm trying to look stuff up but this tiny-ass phone ain't helping.
Something strikes Borric odd about all of this, a thing he cannot give form to.
He puts his instincts aside for the nonce, strides forward and grabs one of Solon's finger in a mighty grip. "You will do well to not anger us, you craven bloat. Answer the Man-of-kor, then tell me, what has this henchman of yours been telling. Tell me of it all."
Guys halp. Anyone remember which thread our talks with the good people of Crannogmere were? I'm trying to look stuff up but this tiny-ass phone ain't helping.
"A curse, hmmm? Indeed!" Urash's face grows harsh and he has a strange look in his eyes.
"Why, it occurs to me that you seem to be positively enjoying yourself, Solon. I should think quips and irony to be quite inappropriate given your predicament, yet here you are regaling us with your banter. Perhaps you are a masochist of sorts? Do you find this whole thing agreeable, hmm? Well, let us be gracious hosts and indulge you."
Urash, visibly seething at Solon's sarcasm, unsheathes his long, ornate dagger. He strides purposefully towards Solon and crouches behind him. Seizing the fat man's right hand and bringing his blade to its index finger, the Acadian says:
"Thread carefully, old man, else your relevance to us will be fast fading... First you assume we are partners or alike in any way, offering to reward us handsomely if we should help you. To tell you the truth, hampering one as loathsome as you is reward enough on its own, but let us lay that aside for now. Then, you dare make light of our comrade's death, again, and casually gloat in the misery of Crannógmere and its folk. Enough of this, I say." Urash's dagger sinks into Solon's flesh, but stops once it breaks the skin.
"How much time will we have in the Otherworld if we cross that bridge? What exactly do you know of Ghul's potential whereabouts? Answer now, scum!"
Unrelated, but nikolokolus do you have any idea how much time has passed since we woke up "drained" before coming to the village? It occurs to me I haven't updated my Magical Points since then.
Solon's smug expression vanishes at the sight of Urash's dagger and the color drains from his face, "I misspoke . . . time embitters the soul I suppose? It's been almost a dozen years since Ghul unceremoniously dropped me in this dump! But, I served him faithfully, without complaint *he mutters under his breath* not that it would matter. But, I can help you! There's no need for violence! I am a man of learning and scholarship like yourself. If you pass over the Godsbrigg at the proper moment there's not even a need for a gate, simply invoke 'Witchsight' and the path will be laid bare. Phobos is in apogee, so time will flow differently in the nether realms; a day there might be no more than an hour here, but your time is not unlimited, if you tary and are not back across the bridge by dawn in this world, then you might be stuck in the Otherworld for decades . . . though, without a sun and without seasons, I'm uncertain how you will reckon time?" He pauses and gulps hard; his eyes full of fear and loathing, "Ghul's body is "dead," but I know he created at least one simulacra and hid it in a place only accessible to himself, but without his vital essence it would lay inert until activated. Ghul didn't know it, but I learned there was a 'pocket' of netherspace in the tower where he hid one such simulacra. The way in required the use of a 'key,' a simple rod he carried on his person. The phial of 'Dragon's Blood' and the rite contained in the Al-Hakim grimoire was a fail-safe to be used in the event that his other contingency failed.""A curse, hmmm? Indeed!" Urash's face grows harsh and he has a strange look in his eyes.
"Why, it occurs to me that you seem to be positively enjoying yourself, Solon. I should think quips and irony to be quite inappropriate given your predicament, yet here you are regaling us with your banter. Perhaps you are a masochist of sorts? Do you find this whole thing agreeable, hmm? Well, let us be gracious hosts and indulge you."
Urash, visibly seething at Solon's sarcasm, unsheathes his long, ornate dagger. He strides purposefully towards Solon and crouches behind him. Seizing the fat man's right hand and bringing his blade to its index finger, the Acadian says:
"Thread carefully, old man, else your relevance to us will be fast fading... First you assume we are partners or alike in any way, offering to reward us handsomely if we should help you. To tell you the truth, hampering one as loathsome as you is reward enough on its own, but let us lay that aside for now. Then, you dare make light of our comrade's death, again, and casually gloat in the misery of Crannógmere and its folk. Enough of this, I say." Urash's dagger sinks into Solon's flesh, but stops once it breaks the skin.
"How much time will we have in the Otherworld if we cross that bridge? What exactly do you know of Ghul's potential whereabouts? Answer now, scum!"
"With my life in your hands and my task failed, what does it matter now?" He sighs and continues with a defeated tone, "Frankly Kelt, I assumed you lot had been sent here by Abazion himself to kill me and steal the master's phial and grimoire. I called Abazion 'meek' and 'pliant' to win your trust, but I can see now that I may have erred in my assumptions.""You're telling twisted tales, prisoner. When we first met you, you said Abazion was a meek apprentice. That you never expected any sort of treachery from him, and now you claim he's a rival sorcerer? Do you know of his plans? What else aren't you telling us?" Marcán says, reaching for his sword.