The Planet

InspectorCaracal wrote: ↑

Mon 22 Nov, 2021, 5:16 pm

skysailor wrote: ↑

Mon 22 Nov, 2021, 5:08 pm

Sabriel takes him entirely literally and settles back down by the fire, laying in a way that he can watch the man. He tries to read the runes on the boots.

OOC: Roll Scholar for me :3 (for Sabriel that's a d4 plus a d20)

OOC: Both dice rolled a 1, totaling 2.

skysailor wrote: ↑

Mon 22 Nov, 2021, 7:54 pm

InspectorCaracal wrote: ↑

Mon 22 Nov, 2021, 5:16 pm

skysailor wrote: ↑

Mon 22 Nov, 2021, 5:08 pm

Sabriel takes him entirely literally and settles back down by the fire, laying in a way that he can watch the man. He tries to read the runes on the boots.

OOC: Roll Scholar for me :3 (for Sabriel that's a d4 plus a d20)

OOC: Both dice rolled a 1, totaling 2.

OOC: ... Ah, oops. I forgot to actually put it in the rules so I'll take this one, but I'm expecting player dice rolls to be via the forum. I'll amend the rules later - and I'm open to discussion on it (but in the OOC thread, not this one lol).

Also: yay, I love critical fails 8D

The runes are small, detailed, and delicately rendered, making it difficult to work out which runes they are and what they say. After some study, you manage to decipher a few: badgers, rain-water, and.... dirty pebbles? Yes, you're fairly certain that part is about dirty pebbles.

It's definitely not any spell you've seen before.

Mina takes a seat without a word, sitting down sideways on a chair using the back of the chair as a too-tall armrest.
They then keep looking at the shadowy stranger, waiting for him to answer Hawthorn's question and introduce himself, while idly wondering if changing shape would be too dramatic just to get a better look into the shadows.

Quite overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of this shadowy figure, Zally tries to sit on the chair again, fails, and leans against the wall. They reflect, quite miserably, that they continue to be extremely terrible at making themselves comfortable.

They try to make out as much as they can about the figure in the darkness, hoping to get an idea of whether this is a 'mysterious rich benefactor' sort of situation, or a 'he's covered in knives and you should run the heck away' sort of situation.

Their mentor Etzia had shared rumours of wealthy benefactors for witches so they remain hopeful. But also more than a little scared.

Although maybe they are so shadowy for everyday voidkin reasons. Not everyone can control how much shadow they produce, afterall.

corvabird wrote: ↑

Tue 23 Nov, 2021, 1:09 pm

They try to make out as much as they can about the figure in the darkness, hoping to get an idea of whether this is a 'mysterious rich benefactor' sort of situation, or a 'he's covered in knives and you should run the heck away' sort of situation.

[...]

Although maybe they are so shadowy for everyday voidkin reasons. Not everyone can control how much shadow they produce, afterall.

You can't make out much in the way of details, but between those two options, what posture you can make out leans more towards the "mysterious rich benefactor" than "shadowy knife murderer" vibe. Also, the shadows seem to be more the result of strategically staged lighting than magically emitted.

"Host, hmm. An apt enough word, I suppose." Their host makes a gesture which you can probably make out as steepling his fingers. "However. This is no mere social visit. You have all been invited here for a greater purpose." He extends a hand, pointing at his audience and revealing pale skin and crimson claw-nails as the gesture breaks from the shadows. "A matter of the utmost importance - nay, even one of li--"

"Rin." An exasperated voice comes from the doorway, accompanied a fraction of a moment later by the crystalline lights flaring back up to normal indoor lighting levels. "I said minimal drama."

The new arrival standing in the doorway is an astralkin man, skin the deep blue of a moonlit night and silvery-white hair combed neatly back. He's dressed smartly in dark blues and silvers, with a pair of small dangling earrings, and he is carrying a tray with a small selection of fruits and baked goods.

Their erstwhile host, however, is now fully revealed, as all of his dramatic lighting has been summarily disposed of. A feykin man with long pointed ears, even longer scarlet hair, and bright gold irises.

He is also looking a bit put out, his arm still extended mid-point.

"I apologize for my partner's melodrama," the astralkin says with a small bow towards the collected group. "My name is Drurios; he's Kavirin. We'd like to offer you a job."

"I can introduce myself," the red-haired man who we now know to be named Kavirin mutters, resting his chin on his previously outstretched hand in what is definitely A Sulk.

"I'm Hawthorn, as some of you know already. Hello."

Hawthorn has hawthorn berries in her hair, and looks deeply sympathetic to Kavirin's plight. When you are inviting people to a mysterious meeting with mysterious notes and very good mysterious lighting, it's precisely like people who hate fun to interrupt you.

Sabriel determines that these boots are clearly specialized enchanted rain boots that are additionally enchanted to ward off badgers, for some reason. They sound like a good idea.

"I can take on a job, sure. Have to pay my next few nights at the inn, anyway."

Their host's mysterious spiel is interrupted by the arrival of their partner. Zally looks between the two, not sure what to think of their gentle banter, nor of the group they've assembled.

Zally nods to Hawthorn as she introduces herself. She's been a quiet sort so far, but Zally has a suspicion she's ... enjoying herself?

Personally, they couldn't be farther from the same. They've been tricked into a stranger's home and treated to the kind of drama and intrigue they frankly find worrying. They are not a grand sort of person; they are a rags and potions sort of person. Looking around at the others of the group, they can't help but tuck their rag-wrapped feet nervously beneath the feathers of their tail. Nobody else here couldn't afford boots -- nevermind that boots for feet like theirs are harder to come by.

Zally clears their throat. 'What kind of work?' they ask Drurios and Kavirin. Their ears twitch uncertainly back toward the door. They still feel the urge to flee, but they are desperately in need of money if they want to get home, let alone stay in Mihilit-dalath long enough to meet their sister.

They only make potions. And not even well enough that anybody seems interested in buying the damn things. There are plenty of potion-makers in Mihilit-dalath, where in Dragon's Deep they were at least the only business in town. Somehow, they don't think this dynamic pair intend to offer them a small alchemy lab in a quiet backroom.

At Zalian's question, the scarlet-haired feykin quickly regains his composure - or at least his good mood.

"An excellent question! And one I am of course quite happy to explain." Kavirin leans back in his armchair, steepling his splayed fingers. "You see, I have a rather unusual job myself - one might even say unique. Certainly the only one in Mistembra, if not all of Vanthis. People have problems they need solved, difficulties they need resolved, questions they need answered. They bring these to me and, for a reasonable fee, I give them the solution. A private investigator, a detective of sorts, but purely on consultation. A consulting detective, if you will.

"Unfortunately," he sighs, "for my time and reputation, on occasion, I receive a client who for one reason or another I can't refuse, but for whom resolving their inquiry requires... legwork." The final word is accompanied by a grimace. "And that is precisely where all of you come in."

Drurios, meanwhile, has spent the duration of this small speech quietly setting up the tray of snacks on a small table near the invited group, finishing off with a gesture indicating they are free to take.