rush99999

Adventure (A D&D 5E Game)

@Birdboy @Dark Cloud

Did either of you want to get a post in before me?

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Fyodor Strelnikov

Fyodor gave no reply to Zaraknvyr's words, simply moving his hands away from his implements of vampire murder once the fanged Mercykiller had shown he wasn't about to cause trouble and turning back to his wine once the Jailer had finished speaking. Fyodor didn't need to look at his compatriots to know that he had cared a lot more about what had just happened than they did. Unsurprising considering the fact that they were Bleakers. Being a Bleaker himself, Fyodor shouldn't have cared so much either. But fangs had been a weak point in the apathy he had been cultivating within himself as a part of the Bleak Cabal from the very beginning. Nothing in the multiverse mattered, Fyodor knew this. Yet no amount of focusing on this truth could change his reaction to reminders of where he came from.

Especially when that reminder was fangs.

Fyodor took another sip of wine, drinking slow and savoring every drop. Partially because he wanted to enjoy the taste of the wine and the pleasant memories it conjured, but mainly because he wanted to wait until some time after Zaraknvyr had left before going to the portal. If they were to be traveling in the same direction, Fyodor wanted as wide a gap between the two of them as possible.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

"QUIET!"

A booming bellow cut through the arguing like a razor blade cuts through rat hide. All present fell silent and turned towards the source of the sound. Any trace of Bartholomew's previous joviality had vanished without a trace as he fixed the two offending littlings with an intimidating glare, honed over three long decades of terrorizing the House into a visage that only the bravest hearts could hope to face without skipping a beat.

"I came here today... to enjoy a peaceful breakfast with my family... Something I don't get to do all that often, mind you... And to finally meet someone that my daughter has been speaking highly of in her letters home." Bartholomew growled, his every breath coming now in ragged angry huffs. "It's bad enough that I must weather this unexpected infestation of Flies... But now you would have me endure your bothersome bickering too? No. I think not... You." Bartholomew pointed at D'Arcy. "Do whatever the fuck it is you came here to do, then take your swarm and piss off... And you." He turned his finger on Elizabeth. "Bring me and mine some breakfast and get me a jug of the Triple X. I am too hungry, and am I far too sober to be dealing with this rat shit... Well? Why are you two just standing there? MOVE!"

OOC

Bartholomew gets two Basic Successes on a War Authority roll to frighten D'Arcy and Elizabeth into ending their argument.

Planescape: Search for Tir na Og

Fyodor Strelnikov

The taste of wine... the only reminder of his homeland that Fyodor did not shy away from.

It had gotten him through many hardships in the past and he associated it with what few good memories he had of what had come before Sigil. Fyodor shut his eyes, a faint trace of a smile playing across his lips as the sensations of the crimson sweetness on his tongue carried him back.

Back to the day when he had shared a drink with Szoldar and Yevgeni, his mentors in wolf hunting, to celebrate the completion of his training. Back to the times when he and his best friend Doru, and occasionally his cousin Parpol if Fyodor could sneak him away from his uncle, would drink to celebrate the turn of the year and living to see it. Back to when he and his brothers had made a habit of rowing out onto Lake Zarovich one Summer to try their hands at fishing. None of them were any good at it, but that didn't really matter when the youngest brother was always quick to break out a bottle of chilled wine to cheer them up from their frustrations and cool them down in the heat of the sun... Wait... Fyodor was an only child... And the heat of the sun had never been a bother to him in all the years of his life.

Fyodor opened his eyes with a confused grimace on his face. For as long as he could remember, memories that weren't his had found their way into his mind every once in a while. He wasn't sure how or why it happened, and he had never been able to accustom himself to the intrusions. But aside from that, they had never been of any harm. They had sometimes been helpful even. Though they had become more and more frequent ever since he had escaped. Perhaps it was time he found someone knowledgeable in matters of the mind and got their opinion on-

"We go the same path. Let us avoid crossing blades when greater foes may be afoot. Your lot may join my party."

Fyodor's grimace of confusion became one of enmity as he turned to regard the Mercykiller that had just addressed him and his. The Jailers had a habit of making themselves a nuisance to the Bleak Cabal. That, along with the presumptuousness of this particular member of the faction was more than enough to draw Fyodor's ire.

And then he saw the fangs.

Fyodor set his glass of wine down on the bar as the fingers of his free hand closed around a flask of holy water tucked into a bandolier that lay across his torso. "The Bleak Cabal has an entire expedition making ready to depart from Ecstasy." Fyodor said as the hand that once held his wine glass moved to hover over a hammer dangling off his belt. "We have no need to join the party of a Mercykiller. Especially not one that is liable to drink our blood while we sleep."

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

"Oh Margerie, you really must be careful with the less sturdy littlings." Marian chastised in the way that parents do when she saw Artemisia wince under the force of a playful slap delivered by a Boggart who had always had problems knowing her own strength. The older Boggart woman then turned a sympathetic eye on the Slaugh sleuth. "I do hope my daughter hasn't been making a habit of that." Marian said apologetically. "Either way, it happens enough around these parts that Old Abbott has plenty of ice packs on had for these occurrences. Just ask for one from Elizabeth when she returns and she'll have it to you as soon as she can."

"Ah you worry too much, dear." Bartholomew spoke up. "Slaugh can shrug off much worse than an overly exuberant slap on the shoulder. More likely it just surprised her a little." The old bandit then turned his gaze back towards his daughter and her employer. "Well, don't keep us in suspense." He said encouragingly. "What in the House had just happened?"

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

@Digizel @Guardian Angel Haruki

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

Brutrumukk

Once the rules had been explained and the request to follow had been made, Brutrumukk followed the girl to the palace entrance. "By the way, 'ave you by any chance seen a cat the size of an ogre 'round 'ere?" The bugbear gnome asked as the group walked. "It was on our balloon when we took off, but there ain't been no sign of it since then."

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

Hope you're having fun.

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

"And as we stood amidst the smouldering wreckage of the caravan, I figured that nothing further needed to be said. And so I dropped my traveling nail and the last of my plates at his feet, gave him the slightest of nods, and made my way into town." Bartholomew concluded the recount of his latest adventures to the three other littlings he was sharing a table with.

"My my, you've certainly had an eventful journey this time around." One of the two other Boggarts at the table said.

"Eventful?" Bartholomew asked with an incredulous grin. "Well I suppose that's one way of putting it, Marian." Bartholomew turned his gaze away from his wife then, and looked to his daughter and her employer. "But my travels weren't nearly as eventful as our Margerie's work with the Detective here down in the Basement." He beamed proudly at the younger of the two Boggart women sitting with him.

Bartholomew had been closely following the news regarding the series of crimes in Viletia that his daughter's employer had been solving ever since he'd first seen a picture of Margerie in the papers. Given their family's past, Bartholomew had been slightly caught off guard by his daughter's decision to become a Detective's assistant. But he'd supported the choice none the less, and he was glad he had. Knowing that she was out there helping to do some good in the House rather than following in his footsteps never failed to put a smile on his face whenever he read about it.

A hasty deposit of water mugs shook Bartholomew from his thoughts as he lifted his head to regard the innkeeper's grand daughter as she took initial drink orders. Bartholomew had a great deal of respect for Old Abbott's lot. When the Restoration Pact had been signed and the Boggarts had finally been allowed back into the house, Old Abbott had been the one sent to confront the bandit clan Bartholomew had grown up in.

Up until that point, the clan had allied themselves with the Slaugh, acting as guides and mercenaries to the invading force in exchange for a chance to do more damage to the Faeries and Sprites than they had ever been capable of on their own. But when Old Abbot arrived, all that changed. Through charisma, intelligence, prowess, or underhandedness, the old Boggart had convinced, debated, coerced, or tricked much of the clan into joining Hearthworth's host against the Slaugh they once aided or simply laying down their arms and taking no further part in the conflict. But while most chose to leave, one way or another, some chose to continue their way of life. Bartholomew and his family were among that number, in no small part due to his own persuasion.

That last part was something he would hate himself for until the day he died.

After the Battle of Quillwaters, where he had learned the hard way the true cost of clinging to old hatreds, Bartholomew was surprised to find a friend in Old Abbott when the two met again in the battle's aftermath. It had been with Old Abbott's help that Bartholomew and his family escaped the shadow of their past to start afresh with new names and a new life.

Bartholomew was once more pulled from his thoughts when Marian nudged him, making the old fool realize that he was the last person Elizabeth was waiting on an order from now. Having arrived in Stairside skint broke and having lacked the opportunity to change that between then and now, Bartholomew could afford nothing more than the complimentary water he'd already been provided. And so he waved the girl off with a simple "I'm fine with just the water, thanks."

Elizabeth was a nice littling as well. That was pretty much the sum of his knowledge regarding the girl. Staying in the Entry Hall for too long had never been something the old Boggart could bring himself to do. Too many painful reminders. Which was why he traveled a lot despite his old age. As a result, he'd never really gotten to know the rest of Old Abbott's family all that well.

"Right then. Enough about me." Bartholomew said to Margerie and the Slaugh Detective once Elizabeth had moved off. "Tell me about these cases in Viletia. I only know what the papers have mentioned, so I'm curious to hear the stories straight from the stars of the show."

Household Adventures, a Two Little Mice game

At the request of her loyal yet beleaguered assistant, a boggart named Margerie, she has decided to take a holiday.

@XxFellsingxX

Would Margerie being Bartholomew's daughter be ok with you or would that throw off any plans you have for her?