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7 yrs ago
Current Malfunctioning Space Toilet (favorite death post in RPG) : roleplayerguild.com/posts/4…
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9 yrs ago
Example of a "Character Flaw": roleplayerguild.com/posts/32..
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@Ever Faithful
Samurai subclass is featured in Xanathar's Guide to Everything, which is an accepted source for this RP. If you are asking this for the purposes of submitting a character, there is a Samurai-like fighter type in the setting, though they live a hell of a long way off from the region portrayed here. Will require some creative background work. Also, we're nearing the endgame of this part of the RP. I couldn't bring in another character at this time, though I would be open to keeping it in reserve if we all agree to move into Part 2.

Concerning the character sheet link - I'm not sure what you mean by this. The CS used by the people here is discussed in the original OOC post.
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Victoria Belmont
Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3
HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A
Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop
Action: Ritual Casting Identify
Bonus Action: Morty
Reaction: N/A

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Once committed to a Ritual, there was little else that Victoria could do without spoiling her efforts. On the occasions that she had performed a ritual spellwork before, there wasn't a pressing concern that it might be interrupted. Her knowledge of these things was not so complete that Victoria could predict what would happen in the event that she had to forcibly stop, either. Maybe nothing, aside from the spell's energy dissipating into the Weave around them. Maybe something, if the power was to rebound upon her or her ritual equipment. Or maybe a wholly unexpected result. The unknown was usually interesting; a poor temptation but one nonetheless. Such thoughts were fleeting and minuscule anyway as there was no way (that she might think of at that moment) Victoria would voluntarily sabotage a Ritual. But something hinted that it might, regardless.

The prisoner had moved. Not a lot, but enough to divert some of her attention. Tied up or no, Victoria didn't like the idea of a hostile entity around them only to provide a distraction. Even in her attempts to keep her mind on the spellwork at hand, a thought trickled in that roughly translated to, "Why are we bothering to keep him alive? Why are we bothering to keep him at all?" though she did not let a syllable of this reach the open air. Instead, she kept the issue of their enemy to the others in the party, specifically those who insisted on his presence in the first place.

The Ritual of Identification continued quietly as her free hand slipped into her pocket to produce a small, leather pouch. Victoria made sure to keep physical contact with the hammer, lest the spell fizzle away. Next, she picked up her collection of small bones again and tossed them like dice upon the cloth they were previously wrapped within, noted the results, and smiled. "Almost there," she whispered, her voice melodic and ethereal. One might barely notice the darkening of her eyes, which spread downward as if necrotic energy painted her face with sorrow, contrasting the barely visible tips of her teeth brought about by a grin of budding accomplishment. The ritual was coming to fruition.
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Weather: The rain is light but steady now. No more punishing torrent of earthbound water, but a quieter blanket of cold autumnal precipitation.

Time: Afternoon. Quite possibly late afternoon. It's difficult to tell with this level of overcast to the sky.

Ambience: The silversmith's place is warm and dry. Perhaps just a touch too warm, thanks to the pot forge and the press of multiple bodies in a smallish storefront. The acrid smells of heat affecting metal are remarkably faint for such an enterprise, which is a blessing considering the relatively still air, ventilation being minimal as this is technically a jeweler's, not an ironworks. Outside, smaller sounds of people beginning to move about and make their various exclamations barely reached inside.


*****


Jacques kept working as Kathryn apologized and stated her case about getting a more practical weapon for the L'Roses to use to assist in their protection. "You want to keep them safe?" he stated quietly, the bulk of his concentration on the silver he was inlaying, "Get them out of this town and keep them under guard. I don't make weapons here. I'm inlaying existing ones with silver." her jerked a thumb to the daggers, spear, and crossbow now on the counter, adding, "Those simple one are the only ones I have done, and they're for my protection. Bring me something to work with and I'll work with it."

The more-or-less quiet of the room made sense to Jacques. This was the inevitable cooldown after a fight. Tensions were still high, there was promise of more danger in the air, but blood was losing heat and it showed. This was why the conversation between Kathryn and Victoria gave him a little pause. They were nonchalantly discussing certain unfortunate possibilities with picking up a strange item which hinted to have special properties. Moreso, that the other could determine something about it. This was a group heavy with magic, it seemed, which gave Jacques a spot of hope. For his own reasons, the silversmith hadn't demonstrated surprise nor made overt mention, as one of the usual townsfolk might. He did allow this to show on his features with a single occurrence of a tired smile.

The implementation of this ritual spellwork caught his attention and actually got him to pause for a few seconds as he witnessed the exchange and setup for said ritual. "That is a divination ritual?" he queried, then thought better of it and stuck to his own work. His miniature pinpoint of white, metal-liquifying light glowed to life once again, providing detail to the blade he was altering before inserting the fine links of silver chain and passing it through heat. This was going to make a fine item once it was done, and in not too much more time. Were it not for the specialized tools at his disposal, this process would take amazingly more time and effort.

Blindfold still on and ropes still around him, The Guard began to slowly stir from his imposed naptime.

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Victoria Belmont
Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3
HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A
Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop
Action: Ritual Casting Identify
Bonus Action: Morty
Reaction: N/A

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"Only half," Victoria said absently to Jacques, following his reference to her as an Elf. She was pretty enough, had some features that marked her as separate from Humans at large, and many in these rural towns hadn't ever seen a full-blooded Elf before. Many others merely lumped anyone with a trace of sylvan background under the banner of "Elf", and was done with it. Regardless of reason, Victoria kept her dignity about her and gave a smile to the man, along with a generous benefit of the doubt.

Mentally moving on, it was good news to Victoria that her sword would be done as quickly as it would. This man had picked up some amazing and innovative shortcuts that, despite her lack of knowledge of the jewelrymakers' art, she felt compelled to pen in her journals what these steps looked like, hopefully to figure this out later with someone more knowledgeable in this area than herself. She was ever in search of new lore, and this qualified. Unfortunately, there were other matters more pressing to the issue of their purpose in this town which took her attention. One of them was Kathryn's newly acquired warhammer. She had suspicions. Lacking one of the basics of Wizardly magic, she could not simply release a novice detection in the air. Acquisition of bardic magic never reliably worked that way for Victoria.

There was an element of hesitation on Kathryn's part to turn over the hammer. Victoria raised a quizzical eyebrow at this, hoping that it wasn't a warning sign of a possible complication that she hadn't the resources to handle. She took up her still-damp cloak from its resting spot and held it out in front of her for her very tall associate to deposit the weapon upon, and gave a quiet giggle. Immediately giving an element of contradiction, Victoria's voice took on a more assertive note, "It will be back in your hands in a few minutes, but if you are physically unable to part with it for that long, we have a much bigger problem than trust issues." She tilted her head to the side slightly, unsure if this was going to be an occasion to start running but preparing for it. She even went so far as to give a mental command to her walking barbecue, Morty, just in case she needed a tripping stone to assist in her escape. All the same, her expression remained constant, even matronly, as she waited.

There was enough relief in Victoria's mind to bring on a sigh (though she kept it in) when Kathryn turned the warhammer over. So she could hand it over voluntarily. This was a positive. "Thank you very much, Kat." She returned to her usual cheery, bubbly self, and lay the bundle, hammer and all, on a clear spot on the counter beside them. Victoria walked around to the opposite side so that she could face outward and toward the rest of the party, and began.

The long, slender cloth bag attached to her belt was opened, to reveal what appeared at first glance to be a modified femur or other, similar bone, It was polished and lovingly scrimshawed with patterned, blackened furrows, and had holes drilled along its length in regular intervals. Close inspection would reveal that it was carved into a fine musical instrument very similar to a flute. She placed it alongside the hammer in front of her. Next came out a black square of cloth, which bore a white circle bisected twice by an "X" to form four more-or-less equal sections; what the cloth bore was a series of small bones of not immediate source, including a digit that was blackened as if by fire on one side. She took these up, shook them vigorously, and dropped them upon the black square.

Smiling, Victoria ran a finger along the embellishments on the weapon in front of her and placed a hand upon the haft, straightening it to perpendicular in front of her. One hand remained on the item at all times as sweet but ever-so-quiet vocalizations issued from her, demonstrating a talent for the act that transcended her younger age and seemed almost enhanced by the magic which she began to gather around herself. She appeared perfectly content in this moment.

Being as this was an example of Bardic Ritual Magic specific to her College, it was going to take a little time.




(Kathryn's action bunnied with @Remipa Awesome's approval. Thank you, Rem!)
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Weather: Still raining. You can almost sense it slacking up a bit.

Time: Mid to late afternoon.

Ambience: The interior of Jacques Mallard's shop was quite comfortable in comparison to the outdoors. The heat coming off of the pot forge was considerable, even to the point that one close to it may prefer to open a window, though the boards covering said windows made that an impossibility. The quieter patter of raindrops continued to sound across the roof and on the street outside. One keeping to the windows might hear the beginnings of citizenry venturing back into the open spaces, now that the fight is done and blood rinsed away (for the most part) by the weather.

*****


Jacques still worked handily on the long blade in front of him, inscribing flowing designs on the tough, flexible metal with his unique tool set. His hands never stopped moving, but his eyes did dart up to Baronfjord briefly when he spoke of the quality of the weapons on his counter. "Didn't make them," he said quietly, attention on his labors. "Just silvered them. Most of that's for me, when I let out of here. Anyway, suit yourself if you choose to decline. Already paid for by your elf friend, there."

To Kosara, he agreed with a hint of tedium, "I am a smith by trade, yes. My name is Mallard." The comment made that she had a better weapon than the one offered was responded to with a quiet shrug, his eyes still keeping to his work, "Suit yourself." If she didn't want it, he wasn't going to force it on her.

The busy silversmith did take note of a couple of things with approval - the insistence from Kathryn that they not resort to torture, even if he might have some subjective feelings about it in this instance, and the earlier mention from Marita that they not break his leg like another had clamored about. Likewise he was happy to see that his stout door was barred once more. The feeling of personal security allowed him to focus on his work.

With many artistic grooves cut into the metal, as if by a tiny sun on the end of a writing implement, Jacques turned to the spools of fine, braided silver wire and began to unwind it, measuring as he went along. "On a weapon of this length, this part must be done carefully. And I will have to rebalance your pommel, probably your guard. Might take a little longer. Others want something done, need to know. Doors lock at dusk. Let me know how else I can help." A brief pause, even in his work, and Mr. Mallard asked, "What are your plans with that one?" pointing to the tied and blindfolded guard in his shop.
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Victoria Belmont
Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3
HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A
Location: Interior Silversmith's Shop
Action: Skill Check - Arcana, Casting Prestidigitation
Bonus Action: N/A
Reaction: N/A

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The sudden change to the much warmer temperature inside of Jacques's shop reminded Victoria that she was rather chilly. Her cloak had been thrown back off of her arms as she danced and played her violin in the just-over conflict, and while not soaked to the bone as she was earlier that day (comparatively), there was more discomfort due to wind and weather that she would rather have done without. While the others saw to their affairs, Victoria shed her cloak and unbuttoned her slim jacket to accommodate the warmer air's movement to her core. To this, she added a little twinkle of magic; opening herself up to threads of arcane energy just enough to warm and dry the worst of her clothing.

Finally a little more comfortable, Victoria responded to Kosara with nonchalant words, "Why, it's your coat, silly. No need to apologize to me. Such things can be repaired with little coin when time permits, anyway." A coy look crossed her features for a moment as she finished with, "I confess; it pleases me that you like it enough to say something." Tiny, melodic giggles followed, and then the Bard got to scanning the room again. Since she was here the last time, the illumination had increased enough to reveal a little more in the way of detail, and she wished to learn what could be learned about what looked like magical trappings toward the rear of the room. Much to her disappointment, she could puzzle out nothing more than she did last time. What she did know gave her a quick impulse to pocket what she could and figure it out when she had some privacy - a feeling she quickly quashed as being counterproductive to their present plight.

Instead, she turned and gave a smile to the silversmith as he plied his trade, this time putting his considerable skill to her preferred personal armament. The pattern he was marking out with his enchanted doodad was captivating, to the point that she barely noticed the arrival of their tallest party member, even though she was hauling in an unconscious person and sporting the Constable's hammer. Once everyone was in and the door was barred, Victoria waited for a moment to address Kathryn. "That's quite the souvenir you picked up," she spoke with mild amusement. She gestured in Kat's general direction, giving equal possibility to the weapon or the prisoner being the subject of her declaration. She clarified, "That hammer, I mean. I suspect there is more to it than excellent craftsmanship. Might I give it a closer look?" Mention of the word closer had her lean in and take a slightly conspiratorial tone, implying a greater depth of meaning. Victoria wiggled her fingers in the air with the clear implication of magic, then smiled at her more physically suited associate.
@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

Aaaaaaaand the update had been updated. Posting rules (or the loosening thereof) for the next two weeks have been set in the Discord, but don't let that stop you from getting some words in or asking some IC questions. I will need an accounting of who stepped into the silversmith's shop and if indeed the place was locked up behind you, as well as the location and general treatment of the captured Guard. Aside from that, please allow me to wish you all a spiffy holiday season.

Roll them dice!

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Weather: Still raining lightly, still cool of temperature. The wind is thankfully low, though the occasional mild gust makes things interesting.

Time: Mid to late afternoon.

Ambience: The cessation of hostilities in what had been a pitched battle just a minute prior and the tense but subtle movement of shutters among the braver or more curious of townsfolk come to an end, bringing about something akin to stillness. Silence was not accurate as the white noise of rain was constant, yet this atmospheric sizzling sound blotted out anything too far away from the party. Everything stood localized to the former battleground and the silversmith's shop. They were most definitely not in the Township by themselves, even if the immediate surroundings hinted at this.

*****


The downed Guard offered nothing in the way of resistance. His state of general unconsciousness made this an easy, if involuntary lack of action on his part, though if he were awake he might have voiced some objections at how his damaged arm was being treated. In the end, he became like so much (mostly) human luggage, bound by rope and being carried away from wisps of his own blood upon the ground and his dropped spear. Or to put it simply, the half-dead guy came along quietly.

Inside of the shop, the silversmith looked to Kosara oddly, correcting her reference to his surname with a simple, "Mallard," before turning to Marita. Or trying to. His eyes and attention were arrested by the damp, skinny pig wrapped in burlap following the auburn haired musician. He appeared to shake it off and responded to the Cleric with, "Yes, yes... I fully intend to relocate. I have to wait a little longer, first." He nodded almost feverishly, as if in vigorous agreement with himself. "I have to give my family time to get further away from this place. After the full moon of Harvestide has gone, I shall go to them. I am buying them time, in case anyone goes sniffing around for them or I am taken by the rats."

A heavy sigh and Jacques declared, as a break from his ongoing train of thought, "If you bring that poor bastard in here, he enters with his eyes closed and he leaves that way, too. I don't care what state he is in, otherwise." A lamp was acquired and lit, providing much better illumination in the small storefront.

Getting back to it, "Do you mind if I work while we talk?" he asked, but immediately responded without waiting for permission, "Good. Lots to do, lots to do. Who else needs a silvered item?" His eyes shifted to whomever else was within his direct vicinity, then took up the slim sword left by Victoria. "Elegant looking for a common blade. I'll fix it up well - and anyone else with you. You paid good gold, and I think I owe you my life, too." Jacques gave a wry smile and picked up a couple of his tools, including the strange stylus-like object he used to fluidly score the metal from the manacles earlier, and said, "I'm not entirely helpless. But I cannot hold out forever; this is true. Enjoy the safety of my walls for as long as you need, but you really should get that package to Bob before nightfall. He'll need it. This aside, how else might I be of help? Ah, and take a look around the shop, if you like."

The careful hands of the silversmith locked the cut & thrust sword into place with a vice and began to score fine, artistic patterns into the blade. The pot sitting over the flameless heat of his small forge rippled momentarily across the surface of the molten metal within.
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Victoria Belmont
Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3
HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A
Location: Exterior Silversmith's Shop -> Interior Silversmith's Shop
Action: N/A
Bonus Action: Morty
Reaction: N/A

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The battle came to what seemed was the end, or at least quiet enough as to constitute a lull. So it seemed like an excellent time to get out of the open while a chance presented itself. The bow of her violin pulled five more notes from the air which melodically sounded a variation of a recognizable instrumental outro. She gave one more twirl which, while showy in its own well also served to give a quick glance at the whole of her surrounding environment. Victoria did have a tendency to incorporate dance into the more martial portions of her career as an adventuring Bard and this time had proven to be no exception. Perhaps this would make for an awkward campfire conversation later. She would have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

With the music done and the antagonists down or driven off, Victoria couldn't help but smile a little. Success was good, and she couldn't help but notice that, unlike the last fight she had gotten into, she hadn't received so much as a scratch. Some of the others couldn't make that assertion. So it was taken as a sort of secondary victory. Be it that she was arguably the most flamboyant, center-of-attention member of her new group, her spellwork was subtler than most and benefits she could give to others fairly abstract, which probably prevented her from being the target of archers. That, and keeping away from melee didn't hurt matters any. In any case, her sword was elsewhere, which limited her close fighting options further.

The Bard looked up to the illusion of a wall covering the sniper's window, above, and gave it a dismissive wave. It faded translucent, then transparent, then blinked out of existence. Minor illusions of this sort were always ever a delaying tactic in combat anyway and keeping it up now served no purpose.

Victoria saw the downed Guard getting assistance from Kathryn. She shook her head slightly and looked away, lest anyone ask her to help with him. There was sure to be a very good, logical reason why he was being tied up and his injuries assessed, but she wanted no part of it, nor did she have any mind to waste her arcane resources on the poor, potentially dead bastard. Were it solely up to her, she might have left him where he lay. This would be another discussion to have, sooner rather than later by the look of things. She cast a look in Morty's direction and issued a mental command, prompting the smoky creature to attend at her heels. Both she and Morty made their way carefully up the steps to Jacques's shop, maneuvering past Marita with a cheerful, "Why thank you, Lady Acolyte," as she passed into the building with Morty to reclaim a piece of dryness from the warmer room within. Victoria reminded herself to give congratulations where it was due among the party. This fight turned out much better than she expected at its outset. Drunken and sleep-deprived Goblins were usually not a respectable test of a full group's combat prowess. Or so the stories might say.
@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

And we have officially dropped out of Initiative Order. Yay! Posting rules go back to regular cycles and characters have full range of action (within reason).

Congratulations on surviving the battle. Some of you are more than a little banged-up, but that's okay! This party is heavy with the potential heals. To recap: Cavendish escaped as if by magic, though not before losing his hammer. One of the Guards lay in the middle of the street in uncertain-to-dead condition, and three have hightailed it after taking respectable damage. It's a victory, even if it promises further conflict later. Also, mild apologies for getting the update set without a great deal of detail. Seeing as I've been describing this area for the past couple of months IRL and there are maps, I think we're good for a shorter update. If you have questions, fire them at me in our Discord or tag me here.

Timers have been reset. Seven days from today to post. There has been a request for a possible extension which, due to the season, I fully understand. There will also be a pause as we get nearer to Christmas/Hanukkah/Yule, so if you need time just let me know. Happy Holidays, and whatnot.

Per usual, tag me in Discord for rolls or judgement calls, and welcome back to the RP/Exploration parts of the Avonshire adventure.
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