Ciaran

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Master Tack

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Location: Grand Vestibule
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 5
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Master Tack nodded solemnly in response to Sister Penance, nothing more. The fate of the poor girl had not been a happy one. Tack had not responded well to it at the time, and it was continuing to be a stressful subject to think about. More so because of the reactions of the people who lived and worked at the manor; from entirely stoic at best, to genuinely pleased by the result at worst, it seemed almost inhuman. Resultingly, Master Tack was not feeling very conversational. So he replied to Sister Penance, merely "Thank you."

Master Tack then overheard Jasper talking ahead of him, and couldn't help noticing that Jasper was talking about him. Or, well, the uninvited guests, a group of which he was a member. Normally, Tack would have paid no attention, but there was something about the tone of Jasper's voice as he called them 'degenerates' that made Tack feel distinctly unhappy with the butler. Despite his attire, he had good reason to resent being treated as an inferior being. What's more, Jasper talked about the guests as though it were their fault that they had all been invited here, and not the work of some manipulator in the shadows who really they all ought to be working together to defeat. And to top it all off, Jasper had no right, no right at all, to complain about them when it was they who were in danger. Had they complained about him when they were told that they might be killed here? No. And yet he acted as though he was the victim here.

Master Tack walked up behind Jasper before he began to speak. "You know what Jasper? You're right. We degenerates have imposed ourselves upon you, with our own free will and without any outside interference. It's unfortunate, really, so I suppose I'll go. Except that I can't, because I'll be shot if I try. So clearly we're to blame, not only for being here but also for staying here. And furthermore, you are in incredible danger here. We're all safe, whereas you have been the recipient of a number of vague and not-so-vague death threats from the gracious lord. What's more, you have actually witnessed a member of your troupe die, in literal cold blood, only a few minutes beforehand. So really, it's entirely correct for you to be complaining about us, and not the other way around."

Master Tack's resentment had grown into anger as he'd spoken, and his tone of voice reflected that. However, he had presented all of his main points, and so had nothing more of value to say. He stood with his arms folded and eyebrows raised, waiting for a response from Jasper.

Vivid Recollections: Into the World Unknown (Season 1 COMPLETE)

@Zaxter996 Obviously I'm not the GM so it's not my decision, but I think you'll be good to join. You probably saw that join status is still apply, and we've been talking of a new thread for a new start (and therefore potentially new players) fairly recently.

D&D Fifth Edition: Land of the Old Curse

The last zombie clattered to the floor, and all was silent. Many of the cobblestones surrounding the gallows were slick with blood, and six mutilated corpses of what were once human beings now lay on the floor in various states of destruction. Now that the noise of battle had cut off, the lack of sound felt sudden, unwelcome, and bleak. Seven innocent lives had been ended, and the killer was still at large. The people of Sveto had thought that the killings would end today. Instead, the total dead had doubled.

The people who fled the attack had retreated to their homes, where they hid and waited out the fighting. Now that they could no longer hear the fighting, a few curious souls ventured out to see what had happened. They climbed back up the hill, slowly, many still shaking in fear. And when they saw what was left of their friends and neighbors, their reactions were myriad. The most stoic simply stiffened and paled, looking on somberly and silently. Many cried. For most, it was a devastating tragedy. A handful, the wisest, understood that a considerably larger death toll had been planned. Had the zombies not been engaged and defeated immediately, they would have gone on to kill many more in the crush as people fled the square. This was what victory felt like.

A hard-faced, brown-haired woman of her late thirties was trying to stop her son from seeing the dead body of his father in a pool of blood a short distance away. He knew something was wrong, but he was too young to understand what.

The blackbird was barely visible in the distance, a tiny speck in front of the grey sky. Lillith had successfully fought him off, but he was still alive, flying eastwards, towards where the rivers met. He glided around a hill and out of view.

Lillith made her return to the square shortly afterwards. She surveyed the chaos from a distance, but did not participate. She could see what the people needed: a firm hand and a strong voice. Someone who could tell them they were under protection, then live up to that promise. But charisma was not her forte. She could not help reassure the people, but she could help deal with the root of the problem. And this time, it would be done properly. Lillith approached the group of warriors that had dealt with the attack, and said, simply "It seems that I owe you."

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Master Tack

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Location: Central Hall -> Grand Vestibule
Skills: Charisma
Hit Points: 5
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Master Tack was glad that he had not caused noteworthy offence in his little investigation. He was interested in what had happened here, of course, but it was also important to ensure that the people he interacted with did not dislike him, as this could lead to them keeping secrets or even lying to him if he was unlucky. It's always better to have someone trustworthy closeby, and in a situation where no one knows each other and secrets are the name of the hypothetical game, well, trust rapidly becomes a valuable commodity. Tack wondered what would happen to the bird-masked man speaking in rhyme he'd met on the locomotive - it seemed likely to Tack that prejudice alone could mean the death of the poet.

Anyway, Sister Penance had made a pair of suggestions, to which Tack replied "Yes, both excellent suggestions. I expect the newcomer, or newcomers, is one of the guests Lord Ambesire mentioned - that is, the ones who were invited." Tack reciprocated the Sister's smile as he continued. "Personally, I would like to find out as much as possible about the strange situation we have found ourselves in. Perhaps we can learn more from them. And certainly. I could do with a drink afterwards. You seem like good company, whether or not the others are."

Tack began to lead the way back to the Grand Vestibule when he realised something, related to his earlier thought process about trust. He came to a stop, turned to Sister Penance again, and said carefully, in a quiet but not entirely inaudible tone "We are in great danger here, no matter how much we might like to pretend we are enjoying ourselves at a regular party. There is safety in numbers. I recommend we agree to work together, share information, protect each other if need be. We will both be better off this way."

Tack was reasonably confident he would be successful in persuading Penance to work with him. He had presented the ugly truth of their situation; while this was not something she was likely to enjoy, it presented very reasonable logic for her allying with him.

He waited for an answer, then turned, adjusted his collar, and walked confidently through into the Grand Vestibule, silently taking in the scene before him.

Story to Remember

@Master Crim I can't promise loads, but I am here and willing to contribute.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Master Tack

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Location: Central Hall
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 5
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Interesting. Sister Penance had chosen not to give a first name. Her reasons were justified, of course, but this still meant that Master Tack's theory had not been disproved. Maybe Sister Penance really didn't want to give her first name, maybe she hadn't been given one in the same manner as himself. Tack decided it would be worthwhile to ask more of the guests before making a judgement. And perhaps for now, it would be better to keep his deductions secret.

"Apologies, milady," he said, using a more formal term of address than he thought necessary in an attempt to rectify the slight insult he had caused when asking for the woman's name. "I had a strange train of thought, which led me to forget my sense of propriety. I hope I did not cause offense, and would offer a favour as compensation in the event that I did."

Vivid Recollections: Into the World Unknown (Season 1 COMPLETE)

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Hillview High
_{@FernStone@Surtr Inc}

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Thankfully, the now-typical scenario that Paige had found herself in also progressed how it usually did. That was, her hauling ass as best she could in her condition, while someone else put their life on the line to save her. This was Caelea: the same girl who had rescued her from the bugs in the tunnel at John Reid's place. Another life debt; that made three since she was in the cafe earlier on the same day. Not a good habit to get into, but apparently just another day in the office for a disabled Awakened. Paige's thoughts briefly went to the mornings she'd spent on the edge of town, trying and trying again to walk without her crutch, but always failing to keep her balance. If she valued her continued existence, she'd have to work on that, a lot.

Paige figured they made quite the sight, the two girls fleeing from unimaginable horror, her dressed in her typical all-white getup alongside an actual literal albino. Not that looking strange had ever really been something that made her uncomfortable; if it had, well, she'd have had a lot of issues by now to say the least. Either way, there were more important problems taking place right now.

"Thank you," Paige said sincerely, as she and Caelea ran onwards. "I promise I won't forget this."

She meant it. It truly meant a lot to her that someone else would be willing to risk their own life for hers, especially when they'd met the same day. No matter how 'typical' it might have become, it remained incredibly meaningful for her, and she would repay that debt if she ever got the chance. The same went for Penny. It didn't especially matter when or where, but Paige had to repay the people that had saved her life.

And that was a serious problem right now. Paige hadn't seen where Penny went; she could be in serious danger, or even dead. As frustrating as it was for her, there wasn't anything she could do to help Penny. She'd have to get out on her own. Paige told herself that she'd only have been a hindrance anyway and kept going.

It wasn't much longer before they came across two of the others: Kimberly and Jordan. She saw Jordan getting up off the floor and wondered what had convinced her she should get down in the first place. "What are you doing?" she asked, as close to yelling as she could really be while this out of breath. "We need to get away, right now!" Assuming Caelea was with her, Paige then picked up the pace again, probably moving at a similar speed to what the other pair could manage, given the similarity of their circumstances.

The Glutton was dealing with the Awakened easily, as if they were nothing. Which sparked the thought: if it wanted them dead, why hadn't it just killed them all itself in the first place? Paige pushed the thought aside for the time being. Right now, she had to focus on just surviving.

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Master Tack

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Location: Central Hall
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 5
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Madame Mauve, and now Sister Pennance. Neither had given a first name, only a title, entirely similar to the name he himself had been given, 'Master Tack'. And so it occured to Master Tack that it was reasonably likely that not only were these not real names, as in his case, but also that they had all been assigned in a similar manner to his own, and by the same person, or group of people. A running theme would almost never occur by accident - only a person or group of people intentionally doing so would make sense. Of course, it could just have been that the ladies had decided not to tell him their first name, perhaps out of a sense of propriety or somesuch. It didn't matter so much anyway, though, because there was a simple way to work around it:

"And how about a first name?" he asked, smiling warmly. "Accept my deepest apologies if I seem forward, but I am afraid I simply could not live with missing an opportunity to get to know one such as yourself."

Master Tack was keenly interested in the answer to this question. If it supported his theory, then it could help him find out what was happening and potentially get him out alive when otherwise he might not. There was a lot he didn't understand, but a lot he could learn here. If everyone here had been assigned these aliases by one person or group, then it was likely that these aliases had been established in a similar manner, for similar reasons. It could mean that they had all been contacted by Ardad Lily. It could mean that they had all been blackmailed into arriving here. And there had to be something to blackmail them with, hadn't there? So it could mean that he was trapped in a building full of murderers and psychopaths.

Depending on Sister Pennance's answer to his question, he might not be able to trust anyone.

D&D Fifth Edition: Land of the Old Curse

@Duthguy Of course, not a problem. discord.gg/rW52Hd

🦄 Machiavellian Masquerade - Chapter 1

Master Tack

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Location: Grand Vestibule, C7 -> Central Hall
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 5
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Nothing that either Lord Ambesire or his servant said comforted Master Tack, but that was only on par with the rest of the business surronding this so far sinister event. He would have been stupid to expect any better, though he had hoped for it.

Tack took no issue with being granted the servants' quarters as accomodation. Again, though he would have liked nicer, he was ultimately at the Lord's mercy, and so it was an act of generosity to be given anything at all. He was content with this arrangement, though he decided he would endeavour to resolve it as soon as possible. In his eyes, he was getting a fair deal, yes, but this fair deal still was not a good one for him, just the best he could reasonably expect. Returning to more pleasant accomodation as soon as the issue of his, ah, mistake, was dealt with sounded best to him.

Apparently, someone wasn't quite as content with this arrangement as himself, though. It was fairly subtle, but Tack was stood close to Mauve and so he noticed it quite easily. That scoff, well, it was clear enough what she thought of being given the rooms they'd been given. That kind of philosophy, in which the rich despised and disassociated themselves from the poor, was one which Tack himself presently despised and had, in a way, been a victim of once. In fact, that occurence was related to why he was here, now. Regardless, he took a sudden dislike to Mauve and decided it would be best not to remain with her any longer than necessary. "You know, Mauve, you ought to be grateful for any gift you're given here. The Ambesires don't strike me as the forgiving type, so far. If you don't like this one, your next gift might be more similar to the one that poor girl on the locomotive recieved. Either way, I prefer not to associate with classists, he said, before turning and heading towards the Central Hall. He was curious about the large man and his date - at a gathering like this, there was more than one reason a person might want to be alone with another.

Tack soon discovered he and the couple weren't the only ones interested in the Central Hall. Another woman, quite slim but not short and dressed in green, was present. Tack greeted her and introduced himself, saying "Good evening, miss. My name is Master Tack. And what should I call one so pretty as yourself?"

'Pretty' was an accurate word, in Tack's opinion, and carefully chosen. She was pretty, yes, but not beautiful, not like- Well, she was pretty.