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BlueSlime

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It is near to midday, you think, but difficult to tell in all this mist. The sky is completely overcast and the woods that crush in on either side of the dirt roads loom menacingly and cast shadows to dim what little light there is from the hidden sun. The forest is silent, but in the slowly swirling fog there is a certainty of some dread intelligence watching and waiting.

~~Alesea "Vita"~~

You had run through the night in these woods, even as the darkness closed in on you. The series of fresh, horrific events driving you on even as you teetered on the brink of madness. It had all begun with that accident. The earth had seemed to slip out from under you, and you had bumped and slashed and scraped your way down into the the pitch, black as a starless, moonless night. There you had felt that horror surrounding you, seeping into you. You had felt the cold, dissonant whispers of some terrible entity coming from inside your own head. And just when all hope seemed lost, you had felt the warmth radiating from your under your skin. Your eyes filled with light and from there you could feel the banishing of the dark - or at least, the will and majestic might to hold it at bay. Still blinded and dumb with fear and confusion, you clawed your way out of the darkness and back into the world above.

Hope. It would seem. Is the first step on the road to disappointment.

As you clambered back onto solid ground, you discovered that your frightened cries had attracted the attention of several uncouth men. They grinned down at you, their eyes alight with ill intent. You were bound, beaten, and dragged to a small hideout. There, you suffered indignity like you had never imagined, as your body was passed from man to man, to be treated like an object instead of a person. At last, tired of you, the evil men were spent and either slept or went out to take the few horses down the road and into town.

You used that time to slip away from your bonds and run away on foot. You needed to get to town, back to your ma and pa. You needed to fall into their arms and cry and tell them what had happened just so that they could give meaning and comprehension to your suffering.

When you reached the town, it was in ruins. The dead and dying lay strewn across the streets. Everyone you knew, everyone you had grown up with, was dead. Your own father lived, but only long enough to tell you what sort of beasts had attacked the town and taken your still living mother with them. These wolf men. They were responsible for the final and most painful stroke of evil in your life.

In a state of shock, you spent the rest of the night burying your father. It was a shallow grave, and you covered it with stones from the nearby mason's shop, knowing full well the dead mason and his family wouldn't mind the theft. With that done, and a tearful goodbye to the memory of your human father, you gathered your mother's old adventuring equipment and took off on foot into the woods.

You ran at first, then when your legs ached you walked. Your body screamed at you to take a rest, but you couldn't stop. You needed to keep going. The brightness within you drove you on, giving you a hidden reserve of strength that you never thought you had possessed before.

Hours later, the dawn had risen, but little light accompanied it. Only mists. Mists on either side of an unfamiliar wood. You kept going, but then the howls came. Wolf howls. You looked to your left and right where the sounds were coming from, but the fog obscured your sight. Forward, always forward, into the dark land, alone. You heard more low growls, closer this time it seemed, but still you could not see your enemy. You were exhausted. Your head swam with fatigue.

Then, ahead in the distance, you saw that the road came to a fork, and beside it, six colorful wagons were set up in a patch of grass between the two forking paths. A bonfire was lit, giving off a wholesome warmth and light. Over it was a makeshift spit, and hung from the bar over the fire was a hanging pot, like a small cauldron. Around the fire were a small group of colorfully dressed people. The women wore dresses and low cut tops and two of them were dancing near the fire waving tambourines. The men had red and purple and yellow coats and sported various degrees of facial hair, all dark eyed and dark maned. They were laughing, telling jokes to one another. A large man played a lute, and a wiry fellow played a small accordion. A third girl was playing a fiddle. The music they played was jubilant and playful.

Then a younger man spotted you and pointed and suddenly the music and laughter stopped. Their eyes grew hard and you could see that they were each of them armed with short, curved blades and some of them had crossbows. In a language that you did not know, they spoke in hushed, intense voices to each other, perhaps wondering what you were. This would not be the first time your tiefling heritage had worked against you and put fear into the minds of common human folk.

"Hold on." Said a man in his mid to late twenties. It was the first words she understood, as he used the common tongue. "She may have horns, but something about her doesn't tell me she's a danger to us. At least, not if we don't start something. Put down your weapons, brothers and sisters. Can you not see? She is wounded."

The man approached, his sword and dagger sheathed in his bright red sash. He wore a red trimmed coat that seemed too fancy for him and a magenta bandana to cover his wavy, dark hair.

"By my soul, you look as if you've been through hell and back! My name is Ratka. These are my family. Please. Join us. You look as though you could use a rest. Mmm?"

He extended his hand to you and gestured towards the warm fire...

~~Rovana~~

"Rawrrk!"

You moan.

"Raawrrk! Wake up! Rawwwrk!"

You groan.

"Raawrk! Fire! Fire! Raawwrk! Wee Woo!"

Annoyed at your parrot, Joe, you roll over. It is then that you brush your finger up against something warm, something fleshy. Your eyes open a sliver, and in doing so, the pain of a great, swelling hangover catches up with you. Oh Abyss... how much rum did you drink last night?

The warm fleshiness moves. A light, female chuckle sounds next to you, and there is a shifting as whatever you are sleeping on accommodates the change in position of someone else sharing it. You risk blinking and then with one eye you squint in the low lamplight. You appear to be in some kind of extremely colorful, and extremely cluttered wagon. A small tinderbox hanging from the ceiling of the covered wagon allows for the only light. In front of you, having just moved out of the bed you lie on, is a nude woman, olive skinned and raven haired. She wears many multicolored bracelets and charms on either arm, and a silver anklet on her left foot. She is quite attractive from what you can see of her backside. When she turns around and flashes you a smile, you are relieved.

You may have drank too much, but at least you woke up next to a winner this time. Whatever this little tart is, she's a pretty one. She smells nice too, you think as she leans back over to you, her breasts swaying in front of you, and kisses you on the lips.

"You really do know how to have a good time, little miss 'reaver,'" the girl said in a teasing, heavily accented voice. "Do all dread pirates squeal like that? I'm worried my father will have heard. He is old. He wonders why I haven't given him grandchildren with a nice Vistani man yet. No need to let him figure out what I like. He'd go beserk and cast a curse on me and you both."

She grins beautifully, and then moves to the other side of the wagon, putting on a bright dress. It's by this time that you think you can sit up and get a second look at her. You also realize that you are naked save for your boots and hat.


"You have a headache. Yes. I am a great and powerful gypsy, so I know these things. Heehee. Either that or I just drank the same amount as you last night and know what you're up against. Here."

She flings a small glass vial onto the covers next to you. A brown, brackish liquid is inside.

"Don't ask what's in it, just drink it. It works."

As you look at the vial, you do a mental check of just how exactly you arrived here in this wagon, with this strange but pretty gypsy girl. It had been a really awful voyage a you recall. Your crew had pursued what you thought was a fat merchant vessel along the coast, only to discover that they were armed with heavy ballistae and a full compliment of soldiers. You had turned tail to run, but a lucky shot from the enemy had splintered your mast. Quick work with axes and all hands to the oars allowed you to escape down the coast, but your ship was still in massive need of expensive repairs and you didn't have the coin for it.

Pulling into a port, your crew busied themselves with drinking while you plotted a plan for paying for the repairs. As you were hatching an idea for a river raid, the tavern had filled with a band of brightly colored musicians and dancers. One such entertainer had been this fine young woman you had just woken up with. You recall that you had caught each other's eyes and had seen the knowing look. A couple drinks later the two of you were laughing and flirting together.

Her name... her name was.... Damia! Yes. That was it.

Deciding that she would provide a good distraction from your woes, the pair of you were finding a quiet spot in the corner of the inn when a noble patron entered the tavern with the town guard at his back. Thieves, he had shouted, labeling both Damia's players and your crew in equal measure. It appeared that someone had been picking pockets. Rather than take this apparent arrest lying down, your men chose to brawl with the guards. During the scuffle, Damia had dragged you with her towards the bar. Together the pair of you had stolen half a dozen casks of fine rum and then escaped through the back door. You'd never really liked your current crew that much and didn't intend to share a cell with them, so it had seemed like a good idea at the time to follow Damia back to her wagons. Her other entertainer friends had the same idea about running away and together all of you sped in land in the wagons and into the misty woods.

Damia and you had drunk the rum and then made passionate love to one another. You're not certain it was your best performance ever, but it seemed like you both must have had a good time. And now, here you were, waking up with the girl. The wagon was certainly not moving, so the entertainers must have stopped to rest somewhere.

"Your clothes and things are over there," Damia said, pointing to a pile of what appeared to be all your affects. "Now, would you like to come outside with me and have some lunch? Meet the family? I wasn't kidding about my father though. My brother, Ratka, he knows and makes excuses, but really, my father is the head of our family, and he can't know. So you're just a drinking friend I picked up from last night's trouble, okay?"

At the bonfire in the gypsy camp, there would be room for all the gypsies and the guests to sit, as enough stools to account for everyone were set up. Lunch was a steamy, vegetable and venison stew, and the family passed around food to each other and the guests.

Sitting quietly on a tall stool was an older man of sixty years or so, toying with a wooden cane that was leaning across his knees. He was moving his head between the guests, his reumy eyes sizing them up.

"Well now," the old man coughed and then cracked a wide smile. "My name is Stanimir, and I am the ah, leader of this family. I would like to welcome our guests to our fireside. We are Vistani - gypsy travelers, and we are returning to our homeland. You have met my son and my daughter, Ratka and Damia. The others, I will introduce to you now."

Stanimir went around introducing the rest of the Vistani who were mainly his nieces and nephews, and one grand newphew as well as his younger sister, who was a pleasant woman who might well have been a beauty when she was younger.

"And now, who might you be? And what brings you with us all the way out to the Svalich Woods?"
 

Diagasvesle

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

(Alright here we go! Initial post. Lessee how well I do's.)

Fluff Fluff for Blueslimes wonderful fluff!
The shock of that fall. The sight of the encroaching darkness covering her - fully covering her, blanketing out her eyes, swooning and covering them in such darkness that she couldn't see. Not see at all. Her heart beating faster and faster - feeling like a bird trying to escape it's cage. This deep darkness, pressing in against her, pushing it's way into her, filling her with the wretchedness! Her memories skipping the only other feeling, something warm and sparkling - no! "Ma! PA! Someone! Rachel! Someone! Anyone! Ma!" Screaming loudly in this darkness, her voice lossed even as she heard whispers from inside of her! "Auuuhhh! Getouttamyhead! Get outtmahead!" She pressed her hands against her ears pressing with pressure, pain screeching from her pressing her head, wanting this to be out! But it wouldn't. The whispers gained strength, her fear and despair rising, the darkness invading even inside of her. She'd be done for all eternity. That realization, that aching despair filled realization- her mouth opened in an anguishness, a cry of aching realization. Only to feel the suddenness. Warmth, warmth of her skin, warmth of her heart warmth radiating- light blooming as she saw in the darkness of herself, blazing with light - those whispers, those other things whispers crawling in her mind like maggots infesting rotted meat, pushed back pushed out no longer eating her! Freedom! Path! Her hands clawed at the walls of the cave as she climbed back up, filled with zeal, fear, arms and legs aching as she pulled herself out!

The sight of the surface above, the feel of grass. A sobbing cry of relief, as she bent down onto the ground scrabbling away from that-that dark rot infested hole! Slamming into something hard and coarse, she looked up, vision blurry as she saw some sort of grinning face. Her face smacked - vision playing. "Uuuahgh?" She murbled, finding herself on her back and more shapes and blurry shadows above her. The jeers and words above not making sense even as she felt her hair grabbed and yanked on, pulling on her with screaming pain! "Ahhhhh! It hurts! hurts hurts hurts! Stoppleasestop! It hurts-ouuh!" She shrieked only to feel something slamming into her stomach, spittle splashing out of her mouth! It hurt! It hurt and ached! Feeling the rough dirt rubbing against her body.

Brought back to their hideout- Evil men with evil intentions. Laughter ringing around her even as she felt the burning sensation of being stabbed! She cried, whimpered, and. . . moaned. The laughter, feeling her heavy breasts being squeezed and worked, nipples twerked. She shuddered and whimpered, splashes of warmth entering her and exiting her - the feeling of ropes burning on her arms even as she felt the slapping of meat against her. Why did this feel good!? The taste of unwashed smegma encrusted filth slamming into her mouth, the bubbles of something, sperm? Blowing from her nose as she coughed. The men treating her roughly, slapping her rear, yanking her tail up and using it to pull her around. Bruises patterned her skin till the men left her against a post, arms tied around it loosely. Ass raised up in the air as she moaned against the ground, whimpering as they left her. Tired of her. But she couldn't, could not sleep rest. Could not rest here as they left her. Heavy breasts wrapped around the post, sliding against it, she used it to push herself upright and felt the post disappear?! Only for her to stumble as she blinked the crust and tears away, vision blurry but firm showing to be nothing but a pole that! Freedom - home. Home entering her mind as she stumbled out of the hideout, oozing cum and drenched in the filth they had.

Stumbling through the night, whimpering and moaning softly, she felt pain around her wrists before the ropes mysteriously fell off, blackened and crusted and her dress singed and ruined.

Home burned in her mind, the safety and warmth there. The light of it a surety. A hope that this would all pass. That it is passing. Her mind stumbled in shock and fear, "Ma? Pa? Rachel? George? Anyone?" She breathed and then shrieked! Her voice echoing in the still town, only to hear something, something alive! She rushed, stumbling and falling before scrabbling back up, ignoing the stinging sensations as she saw him. Pa, pa laying against a wall, a blood trail, as if he dragged himself. Clawmarks strewn everywhere. Her father's dying words. The trifecta, the third evil of this long night.

A dullness surrounding her, she scrabbled at the ground, digging it up, breaking fingernails as she made a shallow enough grave. Fat droplets of tears threatened in her eyes, slowly falling down in splashes, her whole world aching. Only. . . only that pulsulating light inside of her. That warmth, that feeling of. She couldn't describe it, she just knew that her mother is alive. Her father's dying wish for her to save her. She stumbled through a prayer for her father, stones covering him and a crude cross sticking up indicating even further where he is buried. Standing up, holding herself. She clutched onto that warmth she felt under her hands, she clutched onto her father's form and felt a burning need, a burning need to dest-punish. Punish those wolf men, and make them pay.

Her mother's old adventuring gear. Well-kept, a treasured remainder, filled with some old things. She took it all. The three daggers, once shown off as thrown by her mother, now resting uneasily in old scabbards. One on her lower left leg. One on her hip. One on her left arm. All three fitting snugly. The backpack on her back weighing her even as she ran. Following those tracks, stomping on the ground, leaving fresh footprints even as she ran and ran and ran. The light bolstering her even as she ran more. Trying to be away from the fresh pain. Trying to fill the need inside of her anew.

Her legs burning, breath coming in short hard pants. She trudged now, walking, jogging, running, and faltering. Trying to keep going as fast as she could but it hurt. It ached. But it didn't ache as bad as that. She heard the wolf howls - sudden echoing, bouncing off the mists. Coming from the right! But those were howls of wolves, she is sure. Not howls of men acting like wolves! She needed to be away and not to them but away. Forward. Forward. Forward. The humid mist feeling so cold against her overheated body even as she gulped air, starving for it to fuel her body.

She stumbled from the mists and saw. . . Life. Her ears no longer heard the call of wolves even as she placed a hand against the trunks of trees. Listening to the delightful music, seeing the swirls of color. Beautiful, beautiful life and color in this dim world. Her breath stopping, her lungs screaming at her to take in more even as she watched.

The sudden end of it had her reaching out towards it. Fearful that it too would disappear from her.

Stuck in that pose, reaching out to them like a specter trying to grasp onto the fleeting epheremal of life she stood there. Eyes burning a dull yellow in flickering torchlight.

She stood there. . . hearing those words and collasping in front of them all. Falling onto her knees as she took in hard sharp breaths, color returning to her graying vision even as she looked up at the approaching man, his red trimmed sash brightly sashaying on him and his dark hair covered.

Looking up at him, she must've made a pitiful sight. She nodded her head, as she breathed better. "I...Yes. Name is...Vita. A rest. Thank you." As she stumbled through her words and slowly pulled herself upright. She must've looked dreadful to them. Her silver hair matted and dirtied. Stained with things best left unmentioned. Her tanned skin dirtied and unscrubbed, no washing in rivers recently and her long tail covered in dust from her running stampede. She felt her cheeks heating at shameful way she must look.

Vita nodded her head as she spoke "Ah thanks for the stew." Her voice scratchy filled with need for feed and water. But she waited for the hosts to get themselves food first before she scooped her own into a bowl. She sat on a stool and listened to his words.

"I am Vita. Ah, just Vita. I. . . well ah I. I am a tiefling. Ah not use to having to say that." As she curled her tail around her waist. "I ah hunting some nasty wolf-like men. They killed mah village." Her voice trembled here but she pressed onwards, "And took mah ma. I followed them here. And well, I ran into you. Thanks be for the stew." As Vita explained in most simple fashion, even as her breath hicced, her reasons for being here so suddenly.
 
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Pervy

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: Introduction, Vita


"Shuddap ya parrot, I'm gonna crossbow.. yer peehole" She groaned, stretched, rubbed her eyes, and then grinned.

"G'day lass, I appear to have happened to misplace my memory of last night, I'm afraid we'll have to do a reenactment, savy?.. oh, yes, lets not get any fathers involved, that never ends well." She shrugged, then picked up the liquid, taking a deep gulp. "I object to that notion, I most definitly drank more than you, I barely remember how I got here. Hrmnn.." She insisted, yawning.

"Damia! that was it, hold on, hold on, where are we driving? I'm not good on land... Alright, just a drinking friend, sure." She said, while tightly groping the lasses bottom, dressing up in her usual attire, smirking and hopping outside. "That was some courageous guards, usually my name alone keeps them busied in their quarters. Oh well."

Despite her hangover, or rather, apparently used to dealing with such things, she jumped out and sauntered outside, stepping up to the gypsy leader and bowing, with a flair for the dramatical. "I am Captain Ravana, leader of a respectable grew of freelance-sailors, who has been most injustly ostracized by I hereby presume, racially motivated authorities. I must say you have a lovely family, a very welcoming daughter and I hope.." She stepped over to aquire herself some soup, without asking. "I wont have to occupy your hospitality for too long a period of time" She raised a finger, looking at the tiefling, narrowing her eyes.
"You don't look like a relative. You lost your village to a beast attack? Tragic, say, ever sailed a ship? You'd make for a great intimidating crew member, after a few baths and an overall scrubbing, I might be able to find an opening, I have a feeling a few of my men will be.. indisposed for a short while"
 

Diagasvesle

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

(Taking a cue from Pervy's way of posting)

Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: Introduction; Conversation with Rovana.


The sight of a blonde human with a jaunty pirate hat and a parrot on her shoulders. She looked like one of them whimiscal pirate captains she heard from traders that passed through her town. The parrot even seemed like it could talk! She eyed the parrot for a good few seconds.

Vita blinked with dull yellow orbs at the finger pointing at her noticing the owner of the parrot is, well, pointing at her. A spoon of soup in her mouth as she had just finished speaking and started to eat some grub. "MMmh? Nuh relavvia" She spoke around the spoon in her mouth. She blushed as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth, her tail twitching at the words. "No, not a rela-rel- not a family of them. I uhm, yes." Her eyes getting hard and filled with momentary pain before she focused again. "No havn't worked a ship before. Uhhh, how do I, umm. . . How would I be intimi-intimidatung?"

The dull girl blinked before speaking "Um, uh, I want to rescue my ma before I er uh get on with any other work. I know my Ma is this way and not uh um, on the lakes? Is that what you call the thing ships sail on?"
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: Vita, primarly


(I am an inspiration to the people!!)

"Right.. a lot to work on. Can you try and look angry for a moment?" Rovana pat patted the tieflings shoulder. "You and me are gonna go far, matey. The sea, we sail on the wide sea. So tell me about what attacked you, perhaps these fine gentl.. these folks have heard about those creatures and what they do with the averaga 'Ma's'." She nodded. "Obviously, I am eager to assist you, as long as the danger to me is a minimum, while my gain is a maximum!" She smiled, jovially, munching her own soup, but in between talking, giving the tiefling woman an encouraging smirk.
 
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Diagasvesle

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: Conversation with Rovana.


"Look uh, angry? I?" Vita mumbled, loudly, as she looked down at her soup. She wasn't a mean girl growing up, she didn't know how to look angry or that word that the Blond Girl with the jaunty hat said. She tilted her head upwards at Rovana. "Grrr!" She growled! Eyebrows narrowed, lips pulled into a pout! Coming more off as a horned puppey trying to look intimidating. The horned puppy metaphor very appropriate as she jerked at the sudden pat! "Whu! When did yah!" Her angry face broken at Rovana being so close.

The tiefling girl's breasts bounced in her leather, nearly falling off her stool if not for the hand on her shoulder! "Uh erm, sorry you spooked ah me. When did you get so close? Erm ah, nev'rmin. Sea, tha words sea. I remember ah now." Vita looked at the hand on her shoulder. . . and relaxed into it. It felt nice, even a total strangers comfort pats felt nice. She kept the tears in. She wasn't no hysterical city lady! "Them fine folks? What do they do with Ma's?!" A panicked voice slipped from her as she turned and twisted, looking at Rovana! Fear played across her face.

"You'll ah help me? But what do you gain from ah helping me?" Vita finally cottoned onto those last words Rovana spoke, after a hysterical moment of bouncing between fear and the sudden evilness of what those wolf-like man will do to her ma!
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: Vita, primarly


She smacked her lips. "We'll call you a work in progress." She nodded. "I have a way of being noticed, or not when I want." She pat patted a little more.

"Oh, you can find something to gain almost everywhere, if you are creative enough. As for what they do, weeell that would rather depend on the Ma I guess. Random question, is your Ma the horny,.. or the not horny side?" The pirate captain inquired, weighting her options. She did need new crew member. But she also did need to not be eaten by wild beasts. "Can you use a weapon?"
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: Conversation with Rovana.


Vita flushed at the work in progress comment. The tiefling fingering her ma's leather armor on her, working the leather between her fingers even as she spooned herself some more stew. "Does it uh, help in your sailings? Not being noticed I ah mean. Um a-also, do you ah mind if I uh know about what yah crew did to get um, stuck on land?"

"Cre-ah-tive" Sounding out the word as if it is a nugget of wisdom imparted on her. "My mah has horns." As She fingered her own horns. She wilted as she continued "Mah dad is the one without the horns. Through my ma always called pa to have a wandering eye too much and that she had to ah use her horns on him ahlot." As she got asked that. "Yah. I can use ah a weapon. These ah daggers aren't for show and I know how to do some ah magic. My ma taught me thaumaturgy and..." She felt the light radiating within her. She knew things she didn't know before. "Produce Flame?" She questioned holding up her emptied hand with no spoon, her bowl resting in her lap and a small bead of fire flared to life in her palm. She felt something warm in her backpack as she did so. The fire flickered in her palm, glowing a warm reddish orange.

"Ah um, if yah don't mind? Where'd you get such a cute birdie at? It looks one of those birds mentioned in them tall tales from traders about pirates!" Vita asked, while still holding her ball of fire.

(Casting Produce Flame, making a small ball of fire roll in her hands. Vita has an arcane focus on her, a crystal yellow rock resting in her pockets. Produce Flame needs only verbal and somantic and lasts 10 minutes. See this link For more information on it.)
 
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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: Vita, primarly


"No, that mainly helps when people want to antagonize you. For example with swords." she adjusted her hat. "How we got stuck?

't was early in the evening, when those mangy dogs attacked us, for the miniscule crime of wishing to assist with their excess of equipment. . Yarr see those bastards saw fit to break my main mast, two of my crew went to an early appointment with Davy Johnes and I had to make land for extensive repairs. Me crew saw sure to degust the towns rum-reserves throughoutly, but posthaste we ran into another issue, finding ourself faced with afformentioned landlubbing, bootlicking authorities."
She nodded.

"Oh a magey one? That can be most useful.. Not in favour of fiery magic, you see, all seperating me from quite lots of water is a bunch of well crafted wood that, following some rumours, may or may not be cursed and spat back out by the godess of the sea herself." She extended her hands to warm them on the Tieflings flame.

"Joe? Why this bird is a genuine pirate parrot. I got him as present by Davy Johnes himself, as proof that I be a true Pirate Captain, deserving of Station! Say Aye Joe." she commented, presented, and commanded of the parrot.

(Happy to roll bluff, if she wouldn't believe all of the high tale. ^^)
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: Conversation with Rovana.


"O-oh." Vita spoke, looking more then a mite confused as she spoke "Do you have ah lot of run ins with folks that like to poke you with swords?" The tiefling girl not liking the thought of that at all, quite easily seen on her face, through it drooped away as so very recent things that happened pounded in her head. She mumbled loud enough to be heard but more of a thought from her "Still ah better then waiting on land to get poked."

The tall tale that the pirate Rovana wafted about had Vita, the girl haven't had any trust issues, believing her at her word! "You ah tried to help with them carrying more? Why'd do people have so much dang bad pride to refuse help? I hope that ah Davy Johnes is a goodly priest. It sounds like your crew needs such with a. . . main mast ah broken." Vita's own small commentary coming after Rovana ravishing tale through the tiefling girl blinked before giggling, a soft thing. "Ah they got drunk and them folk wanted them to calm down and they dint? Ha-ah-ha-ah! Shouldn't they be out of the ah stocks. Most drunks don't get kept long in them. I ah know a possee of my pa's friends like to get good and well fat on the harvest ale during the festival."

"Ah if your crew is only uh ah, in jail for being rum drunks, then won't they be looking for yah?" Vita questioned the lively tall talking blond woman.

The flame speckled with quiet warmth, the light soothing, making the cloudy day brighter - at least to her own eyes. To see the light inside of her before her. . . she felt that more is just waiting to be touched and lifted up from her. Tantalizingly warm knowledge, as if it had always been there in her. "I ah know how to mend things with um, uh magic." She added, feeling as through that may be helpful for the blond captain to know. She could fix the damage she caused.

Vita watched with some fascination, waiting for that parrot to speak as it is commanded.
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: Vita, primarly


"Reasonably much, I seem to bring out some bad habits in some folks." The pirate-captain responded. "But don't worry, you could just stand back and scorch poke-enthusiasts, savy?"

"I don't quite know! A ship full of cargo is far more likely to run water and all that scurvy business, so I just wanted to help keep them afloat by lighting them off some precious metals! Davy Johnes be the man you don't want to meet as pirate, to say it simple." She couldn't 'turn off' her flamboyant way of speaking, but she did adjust a little, realizing the tieflings.. gentler mind. "Aye, I love me a good ale, but ya see, all of my crew got one of these.." She pulled down her bra a little to reveal a tatoo of a skull and crossbones on her right breast. "And guardsfolks are touchy about those." She readjusted her bra.

"Aye, they be looking for me, which was why I intended to displace myself forth from where they are currently looking for me, so that their endeavour ends up unsucessful, for I dislike being found by such simple scullywags such as these!" She waved her hand drammatically, making it seem, to someone trusting enough that she was not fleeing at all, but in total control fo the situation.

"Mend things with damage? Like what? Harpoon holes in me ships wands? Cut of hands, .. it can be dangerous hoisting the flag if you don't know how to do it, you see." She nodded.

(I think I should let the Parr.. DM and perhaps Hentai spider in on the reactioning, eh? ^^)
 
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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

Stanimir the Vistani patriarch (and a bit of Parrot Joe)
At the Campsite
Tag: All


"Rawwrk! Aye Joe! Wee woo!" squawked Parrot Joe, quickly after Rovana gave her order. His green feathered head bobbed up and down, his beak opening and revealing a pink tongue. He wore a leather eye patch over his left eye. His head swiveled so that his good eye was centered on the tiefling, observing her, as if sizing her up.

Meanwhile, the Vistani followed the conversation between the pair of outsiders with curious eyes and attentive ears. Some grinned at Vita's simplistic assessments, and others were fascinated by Rovana's verbal meanderings. Ratka plucked up a lute and began to strum a few chords on the strings softly as others ate from their bowls. Stanimir had a wizened old gap toothed smile as he tapped his fingers on his knees, watching the women.

Then a door to one of the other wagons opened, revealing a slightly taller than average height man, with grey eyes and rough-cut blond hair covered by his earth-toned cap. He wore leathers and the plain soldier's livery of a nation unfamiliar to either Vita or Rovana.

"Ah... the last newcomer awakens to join us," Stanimir said, beckoning the young man forward. "Come, my good ranger. Sit with us and regain your strength. I wager you'll need it before long."

With those words, at once comforting yet ominous, Tristam joined the gathering.

It started as all doomed tales do - on a dark and stormy night. You had taken shelter in a fortified waystation on your road towards the dwarven borderlands, where the forests of your nation gave way to the crags and peaks of the mountain folk. A part of you was bitter about the posting, but another part accepted it as the penance you were due. You'd let the faces and the names of your dead comrades drive you to the bottle, and at the bottom of the bottle you had found no answers, and lost what few friends among the commanders that you had left. You felt a broken shell of a man, despite your youth and promising skill. But the price you had paid for your escape into drink had not hit you until this moment, staring into a drained glass beside a warm, roaring fire in a cozy, unchallenged borderland where no real battle would ever be fought for hundreds of years.

That price was your obscurity. In a moment of dark clarity, you foresaw your life path in front of you - growing old and brittle, losing the strength and steadiness in your fingers, your eagle's eyesight fading, and never - never - to find a cause worthy enough to give you the one thing that could save you.

Redemption.

The ghosts of your past had followed you and growing old and wasted, they would never leave. If only you could face them again, standing on the battlefield beside them and earning your honor. But battles were behind you now, well and truly. Only the battle with the wine remained - and that you would surely lose.

And yet Fate, it would seem, had one more hand to deal you. And it entered through the waystation's door in the form of a cloaked stranger, with a heavy foreign accent, a dark beard, and a heavy coin purse that clinked in time with his heavy foot steps as he tread across the wooden floor. He took only a moment's pause to stare around the room at the twenty or so people gathered there. Then, without further hesitation, he had walked up to you.

"I have been sent to you, to deliver you this message," he said. "If you are a man of honor, you will come to my master's aid at first light."

In the distance, lightning flashed through the night sky and a booming thunder soon followed.

"It is not advisable to walk through Svalich Woods at night. Take the road west of here for a half day's march. There, you will find my master in Barovia."

He had removed from his dark tunic a letter, sealed with a seal of a wide-winged raven set across a shield with a twin towered castle emblazoned at the top above the bird's head. The letter was addressed to you by name in a flowing script.

You had asked him how this had happened, how he had found you here, and who was his master.

"I serve Kolyan Indirovich, Burgomaster of Barovia," he had informed you. "He is in great need and is an old friend of your superiors from his own adventuring days as a young man. Through a mystic sending at great expense he contacted them and was informed that a man by your name and description would be coming quite close to our border. They recommended that you were... in need of something to do."

The manner in which he said this last bit rankled you. What had your superiors really told him or his master? Had they said how you had failed people before? How you were a failure now? By the Nine Hells, your mouth felt dry. He walked over to the bar, other people's eyes still following this curious man. His heavy coin pouch was placed in front of the innkeep.

"Drinks for everyone," he said, as though it were more an order and less a genuine call for celebration. Nevertheless, the gathered humans and dwarves cheered and eagerly approached the bar. This man came back to you without a second glance at the other patrons. He removed from his backpack a bottle, wrapped in a fine leather carrying pouch. A design upon the pouch read "Wizard of Wines" and below that the words "Champagne du le Stomp - Limited Reserve."

"A personal gift, from my master. It is a rare bottle, quite rich in quality. He recommends that you save it and bring it to him, so that you may share a toast to your helping him in a dire hour. But, you can of course refuse. The bottle is yours, either way, but he hopes you will see the honor of the course set before you."

With that, the man gave you the barest of nods and departed, out into the storm, without answering anymore questions. Staring blankly, slightly bewildered by this stranger whose name you realized too late you had not asked for, you gripped the bottle and letter in either hand. Setting the bottle down for a moment, you broke the seal of the letter and opened it, scanning the beautiful script:

Hail to thee of might and valor.
I, a lowly servant of Barovia, send honor to thee.
We plead for thy so desperately needed assistance.
The love of my life, Ireena Kolyana, has been afflicted
by an evil so deadly that even the good people
of our village cannot protect her. She languishes
from her wound, and I would have her saved
from this menace.
There is much wealth in this community. I
offer all that might be had to thee and thy fellows
if thou shalt but answer my desperate plea.
Come quickly, for her time is at hand! All that
I have shall be thine!

Kolyan Indirovich
Burgomaster


Long you sat, staring at your empty glass, the unopened bottle, and the letter, addressed to you by name. You recall many emotions playing across your mind throughout that sleepless night, and your grey eyes had grown weary and haunted. By day break, you had made your decision.

You were going to Barovia.

You set off on foot in the morning, the land around you in a deep foggy mist. You traveled on the small west road, barely more that a forest trail by your nation's road-building standards. The hours marched on, and you were coming upon a small fork in the path when an inhuman growl had sounded behind you. Rare was it that a creature could get the drop on you, but this one had, and its visage was terrible to behold.

It was neither wolf nor man, but some hideous combination of both, and with a powerful backhanded sweep it had swiped you across the chin and you saw only darkness.

You had awoken some time later with a splitting headache and an old man and a middle aged woman sitting above you. You were lying in a bed in a wagon of some sort with an odd smelling clump of moss on your head.

"Easy my young friend," the man had said in the same accent as the strange traveler from the previous night. "You have been very, very lucky, yet still you should lie still. The poultice my sister Betta has given you has reduced the wound, and she is fairly certain that you have avoided infection or the dreaded curse of lycanthropy."

In the short time that followed, you learned that this man, Stanimir, and his family had come upon the road just as a pack of beasts had been hunched over you. Their torches and silvered blades had scared the mongrels off, and they discovered your unconscious body wounded severely, but not dead. Magical and mundane remedies were used to stabilize and bring you back into good health. You were told to rest up for at least the full night, and join the family for breakfast.

You had slept late, but your head felt a lot better for it, and now you arrived to find Stanimir and his family, along with two odd looking women, one blonde and dressed like a port city rogue and the other a tiefling with silvery hair.

"Yes, join us young Tristam. My dear nieces and nephews, this is Tristam. As well, let me introduce you to my family..." here Stanimir quickly repeated all the names of the small Vistani clan, "And at last but not least to Miss Vita, the Captain Rovana, and her parrot friend, Joe."

"Raaawwrk! Aye Joe! Dead man walking! Rawwwrk! Wee woo!"

The Vistani patriarch would let the newcomers get settled and acquainted for a few more minutes, but after a short time and some light lute playing by Ratka, he cleared his throat and rummaged into a belt pouch to draw forth some chalky powder which he blew into the flames of the fire, causing them to roar up to life and create a puff of smoke.

"My apologies for the theatrics," he began with a smile, "But I have a tale to tell, about my people and about our current homeland.

"We come from an ancient land whose name is long forgotten - a land of kings. Our enemies forced us from our homes, and now we wander the lost roads. One night, a wounded soldier not unlike yourself, Tristam, staggered into our camp and collapsed. We nursed his terrible injury and quenched his thirst with wine. He survived. When we asked him who he was, he wouldn't say. All he wanted was to return home, but we were deep in the land of his enemies. We took him as one of our own and followed him back toward his homeland. His enemies hunted him. They said he was a prince, yet we didn't give him up, even when their assassins fell upon us like wolves.

"This man of royal blood fought to protect us, as we protected him. We bore him safely to his home and he thanked us. He said 'I owe you my life. Stay as long as you wish, leave when you choose, and know that you will always be safe here.'

"A curse has befallen this noble prince, turning him into a tyrant. We alone have the power to leave his domain. We have traveled in our time far and wide to find good people - people of passion, resourcefulness and light who might free the dreaded lord from his curse and put his troubled soul to rest. Some of you are already determined to go there, so you should know what to expect."


Stanimir eyes each of the three outsiders through the flickering flames.

"Vita, your mother I fear lies within the grip of beasts who make their home in the wilderness. Speed I doubt is your answer, for if she yet lives, she does so because of a purpose. You must find out what that purpose is before you seek her."

"Tristam, we saw the letter upon your person while you were sleeping. I apolgize for the breach of privacy, but we did not know yet if you would live and we are... a curious people. The burgomaster is known to us, though the villagers do not get along with our kind. The village is very close, just down the road across the border. They have a good tavern there, though we seldom visit it save to sell them wines and food. Seek out your quest there."

"Captain Rovana, I fear your ship lies in the militia's hands and even could you access it, you would need coin to hire crew and make repairs. I will say this to you - there is great wealth in our lord's land. It is an ancient realm with many secrets. You may find a treasure there more beautiful than your beloved sea, and one that could grant you both freedom and answers."

"The three of you, I advise, to journey together. It will be safer for you that way. It seems according to Tristam's letter, which he may well choose to share with you, that there is an immediate need in the village of Barovia, which shares the same name as the land itself. Once his matter is settled, I recommend you seek out our encampment by the Tser Pool. Our eldest seer, Madame Eva, will wish to speak to you then. Of all Vistani, she alone is blessed with the Gift of Foresight. She will be able to guide your path."


At this, the old man fell silent, and the Vistani withdrew to begin packing up their wagons, though Stanimir, Ratka and Damia would remain to answer any questions the group were sure to have.
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

Sergeant Tristam Graysson
At the campsite
Tag: introduction

Waking up with an aching body, for a moment Tristam wonders what had he been drinking last night. Slowly, the memories return to him, of the letter and of the beast, and he opens his eyes, slowly blinking in the faint illumination of the wagon. Listening to the old man, Tristam slowly feels the poultice on his face. "My thanks to yourself and your sister for your hospitality, good man. Where am I?" that and several other questions that followed were answered, and thus satisfied Tristam falls asleep again.

Morning finds the sergeant sleeping late, not an unusual occurrence these days, and when he finally rouses he routinely checks his gear to see if anything is missing or damaged before checking the bandage over his face and any other injuries. Quickly dressing himself, he steps out of the wagon to the sunlight, which for once doesn't feel too bright to face so soon after waking. Politely listening to the introductions, Tristam offers a measured bow in return. "Good morrow to you all. I am Tristam Graysson." Though his rank is clearly visible to anyone who knows of such things, it is perhaps conspicuously absent from his introduction. Eyeing the tiefling with a measure of curiosity marred with a degree of wariness, Tristam takes his share of the breakfast, sitting down to eat, not much caring what it actually is, for hot food is hot food and not be spurned by one who has spent so much of the past months not daring to light a campfire lest an enemy spots the smoke coming from it.
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: All


Rovana smirked and pat patted her parrot, brushing through its headfeathers. "Morning. Captain Rovana be me, that is, unless you have come seeking to arrest her, in which case, there is a terrible misunderstanding and that old man has gravly mistaken my identity." Rovana said, unashamedly.

She sat down, listening to the Gypsys story, after all, there could be treasure involved!
"You've been looking for good people? No wonder you took your time. Eh eh. Ahem." She cleared her throat. "I recommend you take that back old man, there ain't no treasure greater than sailing the seas free to do as you wish and go where you will.

.. Though, I'll admit there be a few tempting treasures. Can ye tell me a little more? What kinda treasures are we talking about? Oh, do you have any spare silver? No that I want the money, but I heard those mutts are disinclined to silver weapons.

Anyway!"
She rushed over to Tristam "You know a woman respects a man in uniform more than any other, what can you tell me of the dangers ahead, you seem injured, would you be able to protect us two even so?" She smiled coyly.

(Gonna hit you with a sleight of hand to steal the letter, and a bluff to act all infatuated with someone of military rank.
(SoH: Roll(1d20)+5: 7,+5 Total:12
Bluff: Roll(1d20)+6:16,+6 Total:22
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: Conversation with Rovana.


"Huh. I dun see it myself. Unless yah seem to do it on second meetings and such. You dun do weird things when meeting a folk a second time do yah?" Vita's speaking her mind as it is. "Okay." Vita bobbed her head and quickly snabbered a spoon of soup stew in her mouth before speaking again.

"Seems ah fine of you then. Much like a uh cart getting stuck in a rut being too overbundled with casks and boxes. Seems like a fine good thing to do then uh. What sort of oafs thunk 'f overloading their carts on the seas?"
Vita speaked her mind without much thought. "He sounds like an evil feller if he follows the uh, ships around and takes their crew."

Vita leaned in closer, eying the skull and crossbones ontop of the mounds. "Huh. Why'd you have one of those there? Doesn't it uh get embarressing flaunting it all da time?" The tiefling spooned some more stew into her mouth, savoring the flavorful sensation on her tongue. "You ah intended? W-o-oah." Vita breathed out, surprised at someone thinking that quickly ahead of what must have been a dastardly situation.

"Anything. I-" She paused, feeling the surefire knowledge and could show it better! She hung the flame she had, light winking out from it as she used her now two free hands to pull and tear a cloth in half. Some rags that were brittle she had on her. "Now uh ah, watch." She spoke it simply and tried to cast it that burned in her mind. "Mending." She spoke with concentration. It took her minute to get that cloth fixed up again as she held up the now no longer torn cloth. "I can repair broken things. Ah think. Like this as long as it isn't? Too big. Like Torn not too much or have a hole bigger then this." As she emphasized the dimensions.

...

Vita the Tiefling Warlock
Listening on stool
Tagged: Introduction of Tristam


The parrot speaking had her clapping her hands in delight, and incidentally, splattering the soup on her spoon onto the ground. "Oh! That's! Wow! Ah thats really something!" As the tiefling squealed in delight at seeing such a thing. In all her days she never thought a tall tale like a talking bird to be true.

The long tale that erupted from the caravan Leader, the father of Ratka, suddenly spoke of and spouted. It rung too true to be a lie but the picture it showed in her mind. A fear bubbled in her heart, a fear of learning of what might be with her Ma. "Purpose? They keeping mah Ma for some purpose? The beasts are?" She mumbled, her thoughts poking out of her mind and onto her lips as she fell into introspection of it.

As she broke from her introspection, Rovana sudden spout of words had her giggling. The dark memories buried in terms of the big tale and meeting of new things. "I ah am, Vita, a tiefling. My identity is ah Vita if you need me for anything. If you ah are not Rovana, then are you Joe?" As the tiefling teased the blond woman while introducing herself to this Tristam. She took a peek at him from her eyes, hoping he'd not notice her eying him. (Handsome check on Tristam Grayson! Hah!)

"Ah um, is there any in the uh, land that may help me in uh finding mah Ma and figuring out what those evil wolfmen beasties want with her?" Vita added her own two coppers on the tail end of Rovana's words.
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

Sergeant Tristam Graysson
At the campsite
Tag: everyone

Absent-mindedly catching Rovana's hand, Tristam sets his bowl down. "I've never been here before. But I suppose we might stick together while we're going to the same direction... as long as you keep your hands to yourself." he replies, smiling at the captain. "How far is the village anyway? I don't enjoy the idea of spending a night in these woods."

Insight: 2+3=5
 
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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

Stanimir, Ratka, and Damia
At the campsite
Tag: All


"Spare silver? Spare you say... hmmn." The old man mused. Beside him, Ratka chuckled and Damia pursed her lips, giving the pirate girl a chiding look.

"We are a trading people, my pretty parrot-carrier," Ratka said, still playing a few wayward notes on his lute. "When we give gifts, it is done with feeling and passion and unasked for. If you ask us, we will ask from you in return."

"I have some silver bolts that would fit your hand crossbow," Damia said, leaning over her brother. "What will you give me, sailing lass, for them?"

"Perhaps a nice kiss?" Ratka mused, only to have his thigh pinched severely by Damia.

"I was thinking perhaps a keepsake? Some small trinket? Travelers have come here before, but few so fine... I could make a nice bracelet with some of her pretty blonde locks.~"

"Rawwrk! So fine! So fine! Wee Woo!" wailed Joe.

"As for treasure," the old Stanimir went on, ignoring or not comprehending the way his daughter seemed to be so admiring of the blonde outsider. "I could not list any particulars, but I know that for generations there have been outsiders traveling into Barovia. Some were quite accomplished looking people with impressive looking armors, swords, staves, books and the like. Chances are many of their treasures are hidden there among the towns and ruins."

Meanwhile, Ratka turned his attention to Vita and Tristam.

"Rovana is right to want some silvered weapons. The wolf men of Barovia fear it, for it is one of the few things that can truly harm them. It is not cheap to come by however. Very few blacksmiths in Barovia who can make them, so we travel far and wide to get them made. I have a dagger and a short sword that I could provide the two of you, but what deal could you make in return?"

Ratka's eyes shifted between the pair of them, but eventually settled on the curvy tiefling. He smiled roguishly at her and added "Perhaps we could come to some sort of creative arrangement?"


Stanimir meanwhile got up from his stool and puttered over to Tristam.

"The Village of Barovia is just over three miles past the border gates, which lie only one hour's march due west. If you left soon, you would get to the village in the afternoon, with plenty of time to find safe lodging before nightfall. We would go with you, but we have one more task to see to in the city of Bergovitsa. It will take us a day's ride with the wagon's to get there and back. With hope, we shall see you soon upon our return."

The mention of a city called Bergovitsa strikes all three of the visitors as strange. Each of you would swear that you had never heard of a city by such a name, but then again, this small kingdom of Barovia had also escaped your notice up until recently.

"Your path lies down the Old Svalich Road. It is quite straightforward from this destination." The old man then reached out a gnarled hand and patted Vita's shoulder. "Try not to let dread take your heart, child. You will find your mother again, I am sure of it. Ratka, my boy, be kind. At least loan these travelers a protection against the evil creatures. They could pay you back when they have had some time to find the coin, eh?"

Ratka smirks. "I could find it in my heart, papa, to part with these silvered blades, if the beautiful Vita would grace me with a kiss. When first I saw her, I worried she was a fiend, but when I held my gaze on her, I saw only a radiant beauty. And now that I have heard her voice and shared food with her, I know her to be a charming woman. A kiss, dear Vita, and a promise to dance with me when next we meet?"
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Captain Rovana
At the Campsite
Tag: All


"Oh your mending trick would be great for torn sails." She recommended the tiefling. She avoided answering the comment on her tatoo on purpose it seemed. "And Aye, ye don't want to be meeting Davy Johnes too early. "

"Oooh I'm just so smitten! Hard to keep my hands with me." She cooed at the Sergeant. Then again, her tone immediatly shifted when dealing with Ratka. "Now listen here pretty boy, you first asked us to go forth and sort out your wayward lord, now while I'm not alltogether disinclined to opposing nobility, said nobility often has a suprising amount of apprehension and guards to get angry for them and thats discounting cursed beasts.. that said.." She smirked slightly at the demand made..

"I guess I can oblige with that." She cooed, sending a flirtatious gaze to the dark haired woman, drawing out her cutlass to sacrifice one of her locks. "Just make sure not ot share this gift with any old women with bad teeth, exspecially if they seem to have a penchant for dolls, such things can end badly." She chuckled, presenting the gypsy woman with a lock in exchange for silvery bolts which she proceeded to load into one of her hand crossbows.

"Well hold on now, all that tells me is that a bunch of impressive outsiders, armor and slaves and all have traveled there and not returned. While magical swords are nice, armors just slow you down, staffs make you look silly, and I trust one and only one book. Don't trust something you can't look in the eyes."

She flexed slightly, patting Joe. "Alright then! Hoist the sails and.. .. haah.. oh yes. .. force of habit. How do you people deal with so much.. ground around you anyway. " She crossed her arms, pouting slightly.
 

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character


Vita the Tiefling Warlock
At Vistani Campsite, sitting on a stool spooning some stew
Tags: All


With all that said and done, the blond woman seemed to be finished talking about her grand adventures. For now at least. Vita felt that bad sort of curiousity, the bad sort definitely, of whom Davey Johnes is.

Then something, amazing happened! Those fine folk, well the direct daughter and son of Stanimir! They are flirting with that Captain girl - the both of them at the same time like some sort of competition to see who could get that jaunty hat wearing Rovana to offer up more! Vita's eyes watched the back and forth between the two with some awe at how fast and slippery they tag teamed.

Then finally, that easing off as as the two seemed to come to some sort of accordance with one another. The silent conversation ending with their back and forth. She blinked like a deer caught in headlights as Ratka settled on looking at her after his offer. "Creative arrangement? Like uh, what do you have in mind?" As the Tiefling spoke so, dumbly! A blush on her face, as she berated herself! She glanced like a shy maiden up towards Ratka - she is being the fool! She already had done it once with a boy her own age! Why is she being so shy now!? The dark memories fluttered at the edges of the light she immersed herself in, feeling its joy.

"A kiss... Ah, stop weak footing around." She spoke the last part differently, psyching herself up as she stood up from the stool, standing there awkwardly before looking directly at Ratka, eyes looking at his lips, then nose then eyes. "I-I uh, yes. A kiss and a dance. I promise a erm, a dance. As long as you uh don't mind me stumbling on your feet." She spoke the last part with more then a blush but took some steps over to Ratka. She isn't going to be shy about, not shy at all! That mantra in her head, she still felt a coiling of fear spiking through her. Her face colored in a pretty blush but she had a daring look in her eyes, waiting to see if Ratka WOULD follow through on his deal.


(Assuming Ratka kissed Vita)
Vita savored that kiss, something so kind and warming. . . she hugged the man kissing her, pressing against her body, too needily perhaps, she wanted that reassurance of a hug as well and tried to pass it off as an extra incentive to guard her dignity and pride. "Just ah little something to heighten the next uh time we meet." Her heavy breasts pushing against Ratka's own chest. The delicious mounds soft and heavy, and especially, big.

Taking the silvered blade and dagger, she offered the blade to Tristam as she spoke "You uh, know how to use one of these right?"

At Rovana's declaration she stepped in behind and at her side, gladdened that there is someone willing to take charge so swiftly. "Al'ight, uh walk the path Captain!" She grinned at that last part, pondering how that'd sound leaving her lips.

Leaving the group of brightly dressed people, she'd turn and give a wave of goodbye before turning around and following once more Rovana.

Deception Roll: 12 (6 (roll) + 6 (Mod + Bonus) | During portion of Hug with Ratka to hide why she did the hug.)
 
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BlueSlime

BlueSlime

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Re: Through the Mists: In Character

Damia
Campsite
Tag: Rovana

"Oooh, thank you~," the gypsy girl said, taking the lock of golden hair, tying it into a loop with dexterous hands around one of her leather cords which she then slipped onto her wrist.

"No old crones, cross my heart," Damia said, returning the flirtatious gaze as her father wasn't looking. "Now, I shall get those bolts."

She bounded like a deer towards her wagon and soon returned with a simple leather bolt case, inside which were twenty-five silver tipped bolts, of the size and make for a hand crossbow. Rovana noticed that Damia carried a more antiquated version of her own hand crossbow. It seemed the two women were alike in career choices, though one favored land and the other the sea.

"A promise made, a promise kept. Now promise me we'll meet again in two night's time at the Tser Pool encampment. There will be a road sign to guide you, it is west of the Barovian village. I'll be waiting for you. As will the wine and maybe some of your rum."

She looked from side to side, then whispered closely to the pirate lady:

"Stick to the roads and do not travel by night unless it cannot be avoided. Seek shelter. A building, a household, or a covered wagon with a door. This is important, but I can say no more."

She then backed away to a respectable distance just before her father's gaze made its way back to her.

---
Ratka
Campsite
Tag: Vita


As Vita stood up and strode to the handsome gypsy man, he kept his confident gaze and did not seem intent on flinching away. He had asked for a kiss, and now that she was ready to give it to him, he would not back down. His calloused lute-playing fingers slipped around her neck, beneath her silver hair and gently cradled the back of her head as he leaned forward, tilting slightly to lock lips with the tiefling. It was not an innocent kiss, but a deep one, and as it happened, Ratka's cousins let out whoops and claps and one wiry boy started to play the accordian.

"Mm, you're sweet~" Ratka breathed into her ear. "You can stumble into me all you want when we dance, I'll just sweep you off your feet," he held her then, as she hugged him tightly. "Ah, you see? Now I am helpless but to give you all the protection I could afford. Take the blades and keep them as a gift."

He stepped back and held her hand, squeezing it. "We'll see each other soon, at the Tser Pool."

A whisper inside Vita's mind:
"Mm... scent of a man. Quickening heart... how sweet~ What is this place? Where am I?"


...


The voice fades. And remains silent. Was it even really there?
 
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