Guardian Angel Haruki
Birdboy
rush99999
Denalz
Necroes
Fetzen
tvfl22
Ohm
Nallore
Kuroroleplayerguild.com/rolls/29665 - NAtural 20 insight check for a total 21
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/29666 - History check is also 21
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/29666 - History check is also 21
LiLNasY Member
STATUS: Back from romantic getaway! Working on replies! 7 mos agoStatus
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7 mos ago
Current
Back from romantic getaway! Working on replies!
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7 mos ago
Romantic weekend with boyfriend, no replies. Sorry friends
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Most Recent Posts
He is in melee range, yes!
The way back to the orchard felt endless. My chest was tight, my throat burned. Silent tears ran down my face as we moved through the forest. I kept seeing those cages in my mind. The Moonpetal chained like animals. Meli's family.
I tried to focus on something useful. Anything. I replayed what I'd seen of the bandits in my head. Their clothes, their weapons, the carts themselves. Was there anything that showed who they worked for? Any symbols or marks I'd recognized?
When we finally reached the orchard, Elena spotted us first. "There you are, Cadmus! Where have you gone? We were worried!"
Elena, Isolde, and Garrick all moved toward us. I could see the concern on their faces. But my eyes went to Meli. She was shaking, staring at the ground. Tears fell from her face to the dirt.
I wiped my own face quickly and turned to the retainers.
"The Moonpetal Gathering has been taken," I said, my voice rough. "Bandits. Dozens of them. They have everyone in cages on carts."
I took a breath, trying to think clearly despite everything.
"I need you to pack emergency bags. Only what's necessary. We'll hide you somewhere safe."
I was already thinking ahead. If I could figure out the closest neutral settlement, somewhere not controlled by Ophidian forces, I could send them there. Keep them safe while Meli and I figured out how to handle this.
I tried to focus on something useful. Anything. I replayed what I'd seen of the bandits in my head. Their clothes, their weapons, the carts themselves. Was there anything that showed who they worked for? Any symbols or marks I'd recognized?
When we finally reached the orchard, Elena spotted us first. "There you are, Cadmus! Where have you gone? We were worried!"
Elena, Isolde, and Garrick all moved toward us. I could see the concern on their faces. But my eyes went to Meli. She was shaking, staring at the ground. Tears fell from her face to the dirt.
I wiped my own face quickly and turned to the retainers.
"The Moonpetal Gathering has been taken," I said, my voice rough. "Bandits. Dozens of them. They have everyone in cages on carts."
I took a breath, trying to think clearly despite everything.
"I need you to pack emergency bags. Only what's necessary. We'll hide you somewhere safe."
I was already thinking ahead. If I could figure out the closest neutral settlement, somewhere not controlled by Ophidian forces, I could send them there. Keep them safe while Meli and I figured out how to handle this.
Kalila stands, her restraint shattering completely. The liquid fire in her veins breaks free.
Wind springs to life around her, whipping at her hair and dress. Her eyes glow with that same eerie light from the night before. When she speaks, her voice carries an otherworldly resonance.
"You dare to intrude upon this home, and demand more than what is freely given in hospitality?! A curse upon you for your gluttony!"
The air around the man shifts, taking on a reddish tint. It swirls around him like a living thing. He gasps, his breathing suddenly labored, as if the oxygen itself is being stolen from his lungs.
Kalila clutches the bottle in one hand. With the other, she draws out wisps of iridescent smoke. The smoke transforms mid-air into starlight that shifts through every color imaginable. She thrusts her hand forward.
The blast of light strikes him square in the chest.
He staggers backward with a roar of pain. Where the light hit, his armor is scorched, and beneath it, flesh blackens and festers before everyone's eyes. The wound hisses with unnatural decay, and a deep rumble of thunder echoes from the impact point.
"What the..."
Mick is already moving, grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter, positioning himself.
The man clutches his chest, breathing hard. He looks at Gerta, and despite the pain, there's a twisted grin in his voice.
"Oh, Gerta. So you've been housing a magical user?" He laughs, though it's strained. "She'd be way more useful to us than your boy."
Isla immediately backs away toward the rear of the room, putting distance between herself and the fight.
The man turns toward Gerta, raising his clawed gauntlet.
"You'll still learn a lesson though!"
He swings wildly, but Gerta ducks under the strike with practiced ease. The claws whistle harmlessly over her head.
Then he pivots, using his momentum to disengage from Gerta and move toward Kalila instead, his eyes locked on her.
"Oh, you'll be VERY useful, loud girl!"
Gerta swings her pan at his back as he moves past, but he twists just enough that the pan clangs against his shoulder armor instead of his head.
"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Garrek shouts, grabbing another knife from the table and hurling it. The blade spins through the air but goes wide, clattering against the wall.
Petyr backs away as well, moving toward where Isla retreated.
The masked man advances on Kalila, blood seeping through his armor where her magic struck.
Mick sees his opening. With the man focused on Kalila and surrounded by allies, he darts in from the side. His kitchen knife flashes as he drives it toward a gap in the man's armor.
The blade finds its mark, slicing across the man's ribs. He grunts in pain, stumbling slightly.
"You're surrounded, you bastard!" Mick snarls, pulling back into a defensive stance.
Kalila's turn - What does she do?
Wind springs to life around her, whipping at her hair and dress. Her eyes glow with that same eerie light from the night before. When she speaks, her voice carries an otherworldly resonance.
"You dare to intrude upon this home, and demand more than what is freely given in hospitality?! A curse upon you for your gluttony!"
The air around the man shifts, taking on a reddish tint. It swirls around him like a living thing. He gasps, his breathing suddenly labored, as if the oxygen itself is being stolen from his lungs.
Kalila clutches the bottle in one hand. With the other, she draws out wisps of iridescent smoke. The smoke transforms mid-air into starlight that shifts through every color imaginable. She thrusts her hand forward.
The blast of light strikes him square in the chest.
He staggers backward with a roar of pain. Where the light hit, his armor is scorched, and beneath it, flesh blackens and festers before everyone's eyes. The wound hisses with unnatural decay, and a deep rumble of thunder echoes from the impact point.
"What the..."
Mick is already moving, grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter, positioning himself.
The man clutches his chest, breathing hard. He looks at Gerta, and despite the pain, there's a twisted grin in his voice.
"Oh, Gerta. So you've been housing a magical user?" He laughs, though it's strained. "She'd be way more useful to us than your boy."
Isla immediately backs away toward the rear of the room, putting distance between herself and the fight.
The man turns toward Gerta, raising his clawed gauntlet.
"You'll still learn a lesson though!"
He swings wildly, but Gerta ducks under the strike with practiced ease. The claws whistle harmlessly over her head.
Then he pivots, using his momentum to disengage from Gerta and move toward Kalila instead, his eyes locked on her.
"Oh, you'll be VERY useful, loud girl!"
Gerta swings her pan at his back as he moves past, but he twists just enough that the pan clangs against his shoulder armor instead of his head.
"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Garrek shouts, grabbing another knife from the table and hurling it. The blade spins through the air but goes wide, clattering against the wall.
Petyr backs away as well, moving toward where Isla retreated.
The masked man advances on Kalila, blood seeping through his armor where her magic struck.
Mick sees his opening. With the man focused on Kalila and surrounded by allies, he darts in from the side. His kitchen knife flashes as he drives it toward a gap in the man's armor.
The blade finds its mark, slicing across the man's ribs. He grunts in pain, stumbling slightly.
"You're surrounded, you bastard!" Mick snarls, pulling back into a defensive stance.
Kalila's turn - What does she do?
He doesn't have the archpriest stat block that's for sure, lol. I'll study a little the other whips and monitors and come back with a reply for you.
roleplayerguild.com/rolls/29649 - 14 is guidance still up?
Advantage and Disadvantage usually cancel each other. Will it in this case?
"Okay," I whispered back, my voice rough. "We go back to the orchard. Check on Elena, Garrick, and Isolde. Figure out what to do from there."
But even as I said it, I kept my eyes on those carts. On the Moonpetal trapped inside.
Oh, if nothing stops them, they'll go to the orchard, okay?
Kalila feels her anxiety rising, threatening to silence her like it always does. But she can't just sit here and do nothing. Not after Gerta's kindness. Not after being welcomed like this.
The liquid fire in her veins pulls at her, begging to be released. Knowledge floods her mind: words of power, hand gestures, the shape magic takes. But she holds it back. For now.
Instead, she decides to try something else.
She scans the room quickly, looking for anything useful, any advantage. Then she takes a calm sip of her tea and speaks, her voice carrying the practiced calm of every noble tea party she's ever suffered through.
"I see the saying is true: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
She addresses the masked man directly.
"You do realize that by coming earlier than your contract says, you are breaking it?"
The man stops. Looks at her. Then he laughs, harsh and mocking behind his mask.
"Contract?" He leans forward slightly, his clawed gauntlet tapping the table. "You think I'm here on a contract, girl? Who even ARE you?"
Before Kalila can respond, Gerta steps in, her voice steady.
"It's okay, sugar." She looks at Kalila, telling her without words to stand down.
Gerta places the leather pouch on the table in front of the man.
He snatches it up and opens it, counting the gold pieces one by one. Slowly. The tension in the room grows with each coin that clinks.
Kalila counts them in her head. Thirty gold pieces. Fifteen weeks of her wages. Just gone.
Finally, the man closes the pouch and stands. He gives a slight, mocking bow of his head.
"You know, Gerta," he says, his tone almost friendly now, "I've been saying this for a long time. We'll need that boy of yours to join us."
Gerta's expression hardens. "No."
"That bitch queen of yours has sent even more men to Thornwood," the man continues, ignoring her. "Countless of ours have been killed or thrown in prison. We need bodies. Strong bodies."
"The answer is NO."
The man shrugs. "Then we'll double what you pay. Sixty gold next time. To cover the cost of another soldier."
Garrek slams his hand on the table, standing quickly. "That's bullshit! You've been taking and taking! This isn't fair!"
Everything happens so fast.
The man moves like a snake. His clawed gauntlet shoots out, grabbing Garrek by the throat and slamming him back against the wall. The claws press into his skin. Blood begins to run down his neck.
"Don't be brave, boy," the man hisses.
Garrek gasps, his hands grabbing at the gauntlet, his eyes wide.
Gerta moves.
She grabs the pan of hot tea from the table and throws the scalding liquid directly into the man's masked face.
He screams, stumbling backward, letting go of Garrek. His hands fly to his face, clawing at the soaked mask. Steam rises where the tea hit. He roars in pain and fury.
"YOU BITCH!"
The room explodes into chaos.
What does Kalila do?
The liquid fire in her veins pulls at her, begging to be released. Knowledge floods her mind: words of power, hand gestures, the shape magic takes. But she holds it back. For now.
Instead, she decides to try something else.
She scans the room quickly, looking for anything useful, any advantage. Then she takes a calm sip of her tea and speaks, her voice carrying the practiced calm of every noble tea party she's ever suffered through.
"I see the saying is true: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."
She addresses the masked man directly.
"You do realize that by coming earlier than your contract says, you are breaking it?"
The man stops. Looks at her. Then he laughs, harsh and mocking behind his mask.
"Contract?" He leans forward slightly, his clawed gauntlet tapping the table. "You think I'm here on a contract, girl? Who even ARE you?"
Before Kalila can respond, Gerta steps in, her voice steady.
"It's okay, sugar." She looks at Kalila, telling her without words to stand down.
Gerta places the leather pouch on the table in front of the man.
He snatches it up and opens it, counting the gold pieces one by one. Slowly. The tension in the room grows with each coin that clinks.
Kalila counts them in her head. Thirty gold pieces. Fifteen weeks of her wages. Just gone.
Finally, the man closes the pouch and stands. He gives a slight, mocking bow of his head.
"You know, Gerta," he says, his tone almost friendly now, "I've been saying this for a long time. We'll need that boy of yours to join us."
Gerta's expression hardens. "No."
"That bitch queen of yours has sent even more men to Thornwood," the man continues, ignoring her. "Countless of ours have been killed or thrown in prison. We need bodies. Strong bodies."
"The answer is NO."
The man shrugs. "Then we'll double what you pay. Sixty gold next time. To cover the cost of another soldier."
Garrek slams his hand on the table, standing quickly. "That's bullshit! You've been taking and taking! This isn't fair!"
Everything happens so fast.
The man moves like a snake. His clawed gauntlet shoots out, grabbing Garrek by the throat and slamming him back against the wall. The claws press into his skin. Blood begins to run down his neck.
"Don't be brave, boy," the man hisses.
Garrek gasps, his hands grabbing at the gauntlet, his eyes wide.
Gerta moves.
She grabs the pan of hot tea from the table and throws the scalding liquid directly into the man's masked face.
He screams, stumbling backward, letting go of Garrek. His hands fly to his face, clawing at the soaked mask. Steam rises where the tea hit. He roars in pain and fury.
"YOU BITCH!"
The room explodes into chaos.
What does Kalila do?
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