Ms Ravenwinter

D&D 5e - Titan Hunters

E . .ʟ . .ʟ . .ᴇ . .ɴ . .ᴀ . .ʀ . .A A. . ɴ. . ɴ ' . ʟ. . ᴇ. . ᴀ. . H ...

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As the night burned into their time, the others dispersed from the table. The table itself seemed to join them as it receded into the palm of the Duke's hand in a little ball. Servants came to usher the party to their respective rooms. Elle followed with little fuss, silently eager to try out the new artefact. The room she was led into was lavish, to no surprise. Devoid of ceremony or consideration, Elle pulled at the straps of her bark-laden armour, letting pieces fall at her feet. The handmaiden that guided Elle to the quarters blushed at the absentminded display and quickly dismissed herself with a nervous slam of the door. Ellenara simply shrugged, some pieces of the armour clattering off her in the motion.

The bed provided to her simply wouldn't do. These fresh linens were just too much. With some motions of her hands, she weaved a bouquet into her grasp and set it upon the floor. After a while, she had layed a bed of soft flowers to rest upon. Much better.

Once she let herself sink into the floral mattress, she plucked the crystalline orb from her belt pouch. For a moment she just felt its sleek surface, smoother than the smoothest stone, staring into it. Her thoughts soon started to focus, pointing themselves to the wayward monk's tale of peril. Briefly, she wondered if it wasn't working, if she wasn't told the truth, only for her vision to pull away and the already pale color of her eyes to fade entirely into milky white. For scant moments, she saw the clouds blur before her, and mountain peaks streak below. Snow quickly riddled past her, blinding her to the rapid descent upon a single mountain's peak.

She blinked, and before her was the sight of a monumentous figure. She sees its hunched, muscular back of pale bronze with stormy hair cascading over it. The figure turns toward her, violet eyes piercing her gaze. The frozen cavern around them collapses into blackness as Elle is shunted out of the vision, her body heaving with a labored gasp. With some detached disappointment, she tried to spy upon the giant once again without the use of the ball. But the vision never came. Palming the sphere, she turned her gaze into the clear crystal with the image of a pale dragon emblazoned in her mind. Nothing. And once again with her own gift, but to no avail.

Oddly reserved, she let out a gentle sigh. Turning her head toward the ball, now resting at her side, she saw the bed of flowers below her subtly shift color to a reddish hue. "Oh, don't give me that tone," she replied, seemingly to nothing. Elle turned away from the flowers, feigning indignation, while bringing the globe to her eyes. After brief concentration, her vision faded far away to the settlement of Vael Turog. The landscape was battered by cruel gusts and bitter snows, and the homesteads were minimal, their sole purpose being to shelter from the biting winds. The roads were unpopulated except by the few guards clad heavily in furs. Before she pulled her vision, she spotted a cluster of burly trees, ripe for transportation.

With that, and her sight returning to the room around her, she called the night over and entered a restful trance.

D&D 5e - Titan Hunters

E . .ʟ . .ʟ . .ᴇ . .ɴ . .ᴀ . .ʀ . .A A. . ɴ. . ɴ ' . ʟ. . ᴇ. . ᴀ. . H ...

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The Lady Mavros was swept away. Long, hair-like wisps of visible air trailed far behind her as the wind carried the inebriated noble through her city streets and into her home. Ellenara's elemental form tossled the young elf's hair as she offered swift passage. Soon, the dining room doors swung open with a brief, forceful gust. The guests were treated to the sight of one of their hosts in the cradling arms of a strangely ethereal being of mist, only for Ada to be placed gently to her feet beside an empty seat. The swirling body beside her condensed and colored until Elle emerged, propping Ada up beneath the girl's shoulder. "Well, I'd say she enjoyed herself," said Elle, helping Ada to sit, "She doesn't get out much, does she?

After seating Ada at the table, Elle made her way around and joined with the others. "Oh, food. I knew the night was missing something!" she proclaimed, gathering up pieces of the meal and assembling them before her onto the table, without a plate. Seemingly ignorant of manners, she started to pull the food to her with her hands and eating from her fingers, with teeth gnashing like an animal. While not particularly violent with the meal, she didn't mind or notice the occasional slurp or slop as she ate.

"So," she said, the words slightly garbled by the half-chewed chicken tucked into her cheek, "As long as we're sharing, I should probably tell what we found out in the city." After declaring this, she finished the bite she had already taken, only to take on another and continue.

"Our dragon lurks on a mountain to the south of Vael Turog, somewhere that I can probably find. The dragon is indeed quite ancient by the sound of it, or at least that's the account of the last man to see the giants that withheld it and survive. He said they guarded it, and that they were led by a much greater giant. Hraesvelgr was the giant's name."

She looked to the others for a moment of pause, before turning in her seat to open the pouch at her hip. Before reaching in, she cleaned off the residual food from her fingers by drawing them into her mouth briefly. With her hands still glistening, she plunged most of her arm into the small pouch and retrieved the pristine crystal globe. "I know where to look, so I might be able to find more with this," she declared, holding the artefact in the air for the party to see, "Perhaps someone could do me the kindness of looking into this figure for me as I seek them out?"

Modular Pathfinder

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N a t s u m i
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E n c h a n t i n g G e i s h a
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Sleep was gentle to Natsumi, the luxurious beds easing him into rest. But, in the silent dead of night, he awoke to an unnerving, warm sensation. Like a hot, clawed finger caressing the line of his jaw. As the haze of a dream cleared, his eyes opened with realization and he sat up upon the bed. Only minimal moonlight lit the room, but it was clear that nothing was there as the nonexistent touch pulled away. Sounds of amusement fluttered into his mind, silent to all but himself, at his startled awakening.

With a sigh, Natsumi whispered to empty night air, "What now?"

"I have need of you, Natty," the soundless words rumbled with sultry tone.

"Can it wait?" he whispered, both annoyed and worried.

A faint growl started to build at the back of his mind, and he felt it bubble up and rumble with intensity as if it were close to him. In his defiance, he felt his neck constrict, the warm feeling digging into his skin like hot needles upon a tightening grip. The voice replied, "You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you?"

"N--" he coughed, the word catching in his throat. The pressure eased, and he huffed momentarily as air came back to him. "No, of course not," he continued, "I'll go."

"Good boy," said the silent voice, clearly pleased with the capitulation, "Now, get going. I won't be waiting long."

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He was quiet as he gathered his things, being sure not to wake any of the others. They wouldn't understand anyway. Once packed, he gave his silent, secret goodbyes to the others as they slept, before weaving his fingers into the air in an incantation. In the next moment he had vanished, appearing past the entrance of the building outside. A ferry this late would normally be hard to convince, but who could say no to him? He didn't know where he was going yet, but it certainly wouldn't be on the island. He knew he'd know where to go soon. At least after it was clear that there wasn't any going back. For now.

At least he left a gift behind. Something to remember him by until they crossed paths again.

Beginner's DnD 5e Game - Group 2

The thunderous clang of the cell door's violent closure still rang through Yvah's ears as she slipped out of the hallway ahead of the others. Horrified prisoners started to flock toward the ready vessel still bobbing about in the infested waters. It seemed best to her for the party to have someone help the defenseless escape safely. Though, how much party was even left was debatable.

Yvah pulled at the staff upon her back, pressing one end firmly to the glossy, blood-stained stone beneath and strapping her lantern atop the opposite end. As she lofted the small point of light within the air, she spoke shakily but with some authority. She knew at least someone had to take the reigns of this mess. "Solglia, you seem the most ready to leave," she turned then to the dwarven cleric, "Why don't you help escort them safely to their homes? There's no telling if there are more scaleys in hiding."

Yvah stepped closer to the rest of the able-bodied fighters among the prisoners, the ones she had seen fight alongside her. "You all can go if you need. None of you have any obligation to stay at this point. Only me and Ulor do, now," she said the last point quietly, under her breath. She soon broke the momentary silence she had caused, nodding pointedly at Eilina, "But you can stick around if you'd rather."

Her assertion then dwindled, her shoulders slumping as she closely approached Araerys. "You don't have to stay," she said in a somber tone and with hushed volume, "None of this is your fight. You've already done more than enough. Leave now while you can." Guilt seemed to spell out in her eyes as she spoke, especially after examining some of the bard's injuries. "You don't owe us anything, Ary."

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

So, life got a lot more cluttered for me about a week ago and I feel like it's probably going to remain so for the coming months, if not increase in clutter in the next few weeks. I'm already rather behind on other RPs, and I should probably drop from this both in an effort to free myself to hopefully catch up on previous obligations and to not cause much damage here by setting things up only to be absent in their payoff. If I'm wrong and my schedule opens up soon, I'll notify you all, but you can probably include anybody you have on the backlog. Sorry for any disappointment @Hekazu and @Gordian Nought, but hopefully I can make it up to both of you by compensating in our other RPs.

This fucking sucks. I was really looking forward to this.

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

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²³

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^Human

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^Shadowy

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^Watchful

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^{The Masters - "I'd never deal with 'em directly, and thank the zee that I've never had to. They're good business and all that, but I'll stick to their fences, thank you kindly."
Bohemians - "Idiots, the lot of 'em. No use stickin' your head in the clouds and dreaming about the Surface down here in Neath. If you can't manage it here in the muck, then good luck finding some place better. The only respect I have for 'em are for the con artists."
Constables - "I'd say I'd spit on 'em, but they're at least good for something. Scrubbing sticky-fingered lads you don't like from your turf."
Criminals - "Back when I was a pesky little brat, the Cheery Man picked me up. Took me off the streets and put me in strangers' houses, pilferin' for my food. Like most of us, I've left him by now. But the old man sends some odd jobs my way ev'ry now and again. The Tosspot King may rule the Flit now, but I'm not gonna sully myself by playing magic tricks for his gang. Glad he wasn't around when I was scurrying the rooftops. But the Widow? Now that's a shrewd businesswoman. Done plenty o' jobs for her. At least before my current employment."
Hell - "You might say we have a 'working relationship' o' sorts. While my soul is certainly right where it should be, I have a debt to settle with 'em. Have had for some years now. Even Devils sometimes need someone who works the shadows, aye?"
Revolutionaries - "While I'm not so keen on the Masters myself, I at least understand that they have a function. And tearing them down won't do my kind well. Where will the Echoes flow then, hm?"
Rubbery Men - "Never got anything worthwhile in their purses, and I can never tell if I'm sellin' back to whom I stole it from."
The Society - "When you live in the gutter, you learn a certain special kind of hatred for them in their palaces."
The Church - "Chastity, temperance, philanthropy, and tithes? No, thank you."
The Docks - "Veilgarden's where I get my drink, mostly. People there're too busy talkin' to notice a lightened purse. But, a roudy pub ain't a bad place to visit when your purse is nearly empty and you need some strong whiskey."
The Great Game - "They think me a Pawn, but I have schemes of my own, too."
Tomb Colonies - "I try not to fleece 'em too much. Only a matter of time 'til I'm one of 'em."
Urchins - "Always more of 'em in the shadows than there are adults. Never hurts to give 'em a few pence and a warm place to stay for a night if it means they stay out of your pockets. Might even learn a thing or two for your trouble."}

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<sup>While she may not speak on her background much, it is undeniable that she stinks of the Airs of London. A true Londoner, born and reared on these very glim-lit streets. And while she's still quite the young, spritely thing, she's more savvy to these dark alleyways than many professionals of her creed. And yet, she's never really aspired to rise above the criminal life. The more practical goal, at least in her mind, is to use what talents she's learned to cut out the biggest slice of the pie for herself. As to whether it's been much of a success by now or not, well... At least she hasn't been shipped off overzees in a box. Or in pieces.

Certainly, the risk must be worth the riches.

A peculiar and quite recent occurrence in her life was how she came to know of the masquerade. Several evenings before, she had taken it upon herself to intercept some postage. Some flighty heiress was paying good rosty to keep tabs on her betrothed, paranoid of an affair derailing their upcoming marriage. Lizzy always liked these jobs because she could steam the letters open alongside her tea. It made for fine entertainment. However, instead of the racy correspondence she expected, the envelope contained an invitation. One addressed to the Latchkey herself.</sup>

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

@Sofaking Fancy Oooo, this one. I like this one. Can we keep him, Hek? Pretty please?

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

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²³

---

^Human

---

^Shadowy

---

^Watchful

---

^{The Masters - "I'd never deal with 'em directly, and thank the zee that I've never had to. They're good business and all that, but I'll stick to their fences, thank you kindly."
Bohemians - "Idiots, the lot of 'em. No use stickin' your head in the clouds and dreaming about the Surface down here in Neath. If you can't manage it here in the muck, then good luck finding some place better. The only respect I have for 'em are for the con artists."
Constables - "I'd say I'd spit on 'em, but they're at least good for something. Scrubbing sticky-fingered lads you don't like from your turf."
Criminals - "Back when I was a pesky little brat, the Cheery Man picked me up. Took me off the streets and put me in strangers' houses, pilferin' for my food. Like most of us, I've left him by now. But the old man sends some odd jobs my way ev'ry now and again. The Tosspot King may rule the Flit now, but I'm not gonna sully myself by playing magic tricks for his gang. Glad he wasn't around when I was scurrying the rooftops. But the Widow? Now that's a shrewd businesswoman. Done plenty o' jobs for her. At least before my current employment."
Hell - "You might say we have a 'working relationship' o' sorts. While my soul is certainly right where it should be, I have a debt to settle with 'em. Have had for some years now. Even Devils sometimes need someone who works the shadows, aye?"
Revolutionaries - "While I'm not so keen on the Masters myself, I at least understand that they have a function. And tearing them down won't do my kind well. Where will the Echoes flow then, hm?"
Rubbery Men - "Never got anything worthwhile in their purses, and I can never tell if I'm sellin' back to whom I stole it from."
The Society - "When you live in the gutter, you learn a certain special kind of hatred for them in their palaces."
The Church - "Chastity, temperance, philanthropy, and tithes? No, thank you."
The Docks - "Veilgarden's where I get my drink, mostly. People there're too busy talkin' to notice a lightened purse. But, a roudy pub ain't a bad place to visit when your purse is nearly empty and you need some strong whiskey."
The Great Game - "They think me a Pawn, but I have schemes of my own, too."
Tomb Colonies - "I try not to fleece 'em too much. Only a matter of time 'til I'm one of 'em."
Urchins - "Always more of 'em in the shadows than there are adults. Never hurts to give 'em a few pence and a warm place to stay for a night if it means they stay out of your pockets. Might even learn a thing or two for your trouble."}

---

<sup>While she may not speak on her background much, it is undeniable that she stinks of the Airs of London. A true Londoner, born and reared on these very glim-lit streets. And while she's still quite the young, spritely thing, she's more savvy to these dark alleyways than many professionals of her creed. And yet, she's never really aspired to rise above the criminal life. The more practical goal, at least in her mind, is to use what talents she's learned to cut out the biggest slice of the pie for herself. As to whether it's been much of a success by now or not, well... At least she hasn't been shipped off overzees in a box. Or in pieces.

Certainly, the risk must be worth the riches.

A peculiar and quite recent occurrence in her life was how she came to know of the masquerade. Several evenings before, she had taken it upon herself to intercept some postage. Some flighty heiress was paying good rosty to keep tabs on her betrothed, paranoid of an affair derailing their upcoming marriage. Lizzy always liked these jobs because she could steam the letters open alongside her tea. It made for fine entertainment. However, instead of the racy correspondence she expected, the envelope contained an invitation. One addressed to the Latchkey herself.</sup>

Modular Pathfinder

_{~ ❀ ❀ ~}

______________________________________________________________________________________

N a t s u m i
~~~~~~~~
_________

E n c h a n t i n g G e i s h a
------------------- -----------
___________ ______

______________________________________________________________________________________

Sat with legs crossed, looking about the lavish room more than espousing Elf, Natsumi wondered to himself. Most of this information they had known before they hopped on the boat, more still had come quite soon after. The deaths of former contestants, however, did perk his ear. So to speak. He turned his attention to nobody, staring intently at a fixture on the wall as if it were a figure in his mind, and said, "Doesn't the plot twist sound like the Wu's were behind the killings all along?" He turned, then, to the rest of the group sat comfily about in this miniature palace. "I think that if we want to save our own hide, we don't have much of a choice but to help along. I mean, if we want to win, then that puts us in considerable danger." He sighed to himself, "If only them and I could just have a little chat. I'm sure then they could see that working for us would be a much better use of their time than loathing after a little pally."

Intrigue in the Fifth City - A Fallen London RP

*becomes summoned from the murky depths of the zee ... 6 hours late.*

Sorry, sorry. D__n bureaucrats over at Hell kept me up with paperwork. So. How are you chaps, then?

[Edit] I'm considering an Orphan that grew up. A pickpocket who was swept up in the shadowy business of Devils, for one reason or another.