The Endless Dance of Empty Night (ylvathrall and Cherubian)

[ylvathrall]

Okay, go ahead and post your sheet here, then we can get started. I figure that just having your sheet as the second post of the main thread is the easiest way to put it somewhere we can find it.

 

[Cherubian]

Aecantha

Level: 2 Hit Points: 14 AC: 0
Effort: 3 Influence: 3

Attributes	Score	Modifier	Check
Charisma	16	+2	5
Constitution	13	+1	8
Dexterity	18	+3	3
Intelligence	13	+1	8
Strength	19	+4	2
Wisdom	14	+1	7

Saving Throws

Evasion	10
Hardiness	11
Spirit	13

Weapons
Unarmed (STR) +4 to hit, 1d12+4 damage
Fray die: 1d8

Words
Alacrity You can not be surprised
Desire At your discretion, others will find you romantically compatible regardless of the onlooker's usual and natural tastes.
Might
Night You can see in darkness

Divine Gifts
Walk between the Rain
Constant Your natural AC is 3. You cannot be hit by anything not driven by a purpose unless you allow it; falling objects will never strike you unless some will to harm you set them in motion. Traps meant to hit an intruder have a chance to hit you. Armor and shields don't benefit you.
Faster Than Thought
(Smite) Instant Commit Effort to scene end when anyone visible declares an action. You get a free round’s action and movement before they can perform their act. If their desired action is rendered impossible by yours, their action is wasted. As a Smite gift, this can't be used two rounds in a row.
Fists of Black Iron
Constant The Godbound's unarmed and weapon attacks are fueled by their tremendous strength. One-handed weapons do 1d10 damage in their hands, and two-handed ones or unarmed attacks made with both hands free inflict 1d12. These attacks count as magical weapons.
Incandescent Need
Action Provoke a tremendous desire for a person, a thing, a general type of activity, or to be in a place. Targets will act to the limit of their character to obtain their desire, with most people doing anything short of easily-detectable crimes to obtain it, and will feel intense pleasure in it. If Effort is Committed for the scene, the Godbound can affect up to a Large Mob of targets in their vicinity. Worthy foes get a Spirit save to resist this power. The effect lasts until dispelled or the Godbound releases a victim.
Leap the Moon
On Turn Commit Effort. The Godbound can leap tremendous distances, ignoring all fall damage and able to jump to any point within sight in lieu of their movement action for the round. They can fight flying enemies by using their move action to leap up before striking their target. They cannot leap more than ten total miles of distance per hour, however.
Welcoming the Dusk
Action Commit Effort. Create darkness around you in any configuration, up to a 30 foot radius. You can see through it, and it can follow you.

 

[Cherubian]

Facts

(Origin): She was born to one of Patria's great families.
(Past Profession): As a noble daughter she learned no craft but got a deep and thorough 'classical' education, including arts, literature, science, and a plethora of languages. She can easily earn her living as scribe or translator.
(Relationship to a group): She got introduced to the slavers of the Oasis States by her former desert guide.

Background

She was born as the daughter of one of Patria's great families, and got the proper education, including not only etiquette, reading and writing, but also several languages, living and ancient. Her standing in the family took a hit when it became evident that she was sterile, though. Despite this her father eventually (when she was 16 years of age) managed to fina someone willing to marry her, but it was a widowed overweight old man who only saw her as sex toy and arm candy.

Back then appalled by the thought of having to bed that man she decided to grab a large sum out of the family treasury and depart. Her travels took a turn for the interesting when she hired her guide for the trip towards the Oasis States. He was a scrawny old man with two assistants, and on the second night in the desert they came to her tent, with the clear and expressed intent to strip her, rape her, rob her and sell her on the slave markets. When the guide was ploughing away into her, taking her virginity, she had to realize to her horror that her body betrayed her and became aroused by that humiliating treatment. And the moment she climaxed her godbound powers awakened.

The two assistants were slain in mere moments, but she spared the guide himself so he could lead her to the pyramids proper. Even more surprising and irritating for her, she demanded that he fuck her again in each of the following nights they were on the road, and once they reached their destination she let him live despite his transgressions. They even have had sex together again on a few occasions since then.

 

[Cherubian]

Inventory

 

[Cherubian]

Notes

 

[ylvathrall]

It's a hot day in the Oasis States, in the pyramid-city of Qanat. Not that there's any other kind, in the cruelly hot desert, but even by the standards of the Oasis States, it's a hot day. Laborers go about their business, working on the hydroponics that sustain Qanat, growing crops, spices, dyes, and drugs. The bustle of the marketplace surrounds you, slaves and flesh-shaped beasts and people as much merchandise as the foods, cloth, and expensive imported metal. One merchant after another hawks their wares.

Three different people have sent messages, by various means, asking for your attention this day. One, a native slave-dealer who specializes in flesh-shaped servants, claims to have lost a shipment, and says that he will pay good money to have it retrieved, no questions asked. A second is a ruin delver who says that her last expedition uncovered a map to a lost pyramid-city, abandoned and derelict. She is nowhere near enough of a power to investigate an abandoned pyramid herself, but she offered to give the map to you in trade for a small portion of what you find. The third, an outsider from the Bleack Reach far to the north, is more a rumor than an offer. A whisper, saying that powerful arcane secrets are available, in trade for...a simple favor.

 

[Cherubian]

I mull over the three options. In the end, the arcane secrets offered by the Reacher are the potentially most valuable reward. Knowledge just is more enduring that fleeting coin. Of course the big question is what kind of favor the mysterious stranger will be asking in return. Only one way to find out. And if simple favor is not so simple after all, there is the slave trader's offer.

So following up on the rumors I picked up I begin to head to the northener's whereabouts.

 

[ylvathrall]

You find the northerner after a short time, in the southern side of the pyramid and on an upper level. It's a simple apartment, built of the stone the desert offers; the door isn't even locked. Inside, a slender man in black robes is sitting at a simple table. His posture is excellent, his fingers steepled in front of him and covered in black leather gloves. The hood of his robes is up and the shadow it casts is darker than any mere absence of light, a magical shadow that blocks any sight - but your divine eyes pierce the darkness. Under the hood, he has a lean, angular face, a narrow chin and cheekbones that could cut glass. His skin is pale, an unhealthy pallor. A hideous scar mars his cheek, claws that tore the skin and ripped the flesh, acid burns along with the claw mark. His left eye is just an empty socket, torn away and left hollow. His hair is iron-grey and slightly balding.

"Good day," he says, and his voice is a rough, ragged thing, something broken in his throat and healed improperly. "I trust you have a reason to be here."

 

[Cherubian]

"I do." I admit as I step into the room and come to stand about two yards away from him opposite the table. As concession tot he hot temperature I am only wearing a light dress of white linen, sleeveless and only reaching down to about the mid of my upper thigh. A notable cleavage also exposes some skin to better deal with the heat - and aid in negotiations.

"Word on the street - for those with good ears - is that you are looking for aid and are offering in return."

 

[ylvathrall]

The scarred man nods, more a twitch of the hood than anything. "I am. I am a mage of no small skill, trained in the arts of the Ulstang witches - necromancy, and darker things. You may call me Grim. For reasons of my own, I want a certain person dead, and by another's hand. Should you carry out the deed, my services will be at your disposal for training or magic. Betray me, and there will be...consequences." Grim's voice pauses before the last word, a loving pause, treasuring the possibilities."

 

[Cherubian]

I am probably not the only one who dislikes being threatened. That is just not a good way to inspire loyalty. Folding my arms across my chest I inquire further.

"So who is the unlucky fellow, and why does it have to be another person who commits the deed?" Maybe because killing that individual will bring down havoc upon me?

 

[ylvathrall]

"Prince Ishak," Grim says. "The ruler of the pyramid-city of Itar. He is...known to be an enemy of mine. A rival, you might say, ever since he...took someone from me whom I valued. Were he to die by necromanctic powers, suspicion would fall upon me immediately. The mad king and queen would wish me dead, for he is a favored child of theirs. And while I am a man of some power, I am not a man who can stare down a hundred thousand Oasis soldiers without blinking. So you see, I cannot in practice carry out the act myself." He smiles a little, twisted on one side by the scars. "But you. You have no history with the man. You have no connection with me. And so, if he dies by your hand, who will suspect you? If they somehow find you, how would they pin it on me?"

 

[Cherubian]

Has this man never heard of torture? If the mad ruling couple caught me after the deed and managed to link me to the murder, I am rather certain I would eventually tell them all about the why and who. Which would put my new shadow cloaked friend right at the center of their attention. Of course I am not voicing that concern.

"You are not shooting for easy targets" I comment with a wry smile. "Unless I manage to stay anonymous ... this could turn ugly for me. How long will your services be at my disposal in case of success?"

 

[ylvathrall]

"One month." Grim's voice is firm.

 

[Cherubian]

My right eyebrow raises "I hope you are a good teacher, then. There is one more issue, though. To get to the prince I need to travel to Itar, and that is not free."

He probably can figure out the rest himself. If I were loaded with gold I would not look for jobs like this one.

 

[ylvathrall]

"Coin is not an issue. I will supply you with as much as you require for the journey." Grim waves one gloved hand carelessly. "It is ultimately of little importance to me."

 

[Cherubian]

This is a high risk, but with a valuable reward. I mull over it for about a minute while the silence hangs between us, but eventually I nod.

"All right, I will give this a shot."

 

[ylvathrall]

"Excellent," Grim says. He reaches into a small pocket in his robes, and pulls out a pouch too large to have possibly fit into it. He sets it on the table with a clink of coins. "Should you succeed, you know where to find me. Should you fail...you will never see me again."

OOC

You now have wealth 2.

 

[Cherubian]

I pick up the pouch to feel its weight in my palm for a moment. So at least I will get paid for a trip to Itar. "In that case, let's hope we will meet again." I tell him with a smile.

~*~

About an hour later I am reaching the caravanserei. Now I am wearing practical travel garb, a loose fitting item that covers all of my body and hence better protects me from the hostile sun out in the desert. What items I considered necessary for the trip are in a small bag slung over my left shoulder. All I need to find now is the next caravan heading to Itar.

 

[ylvathrall]

After a short wait, you find a caravan leader heading that direction. He's a young man, built like a bull, with skin well tanned by the desert sun, wearing loose cotton robes and a leather vest. He barks orders, physically pushing people into line at times, arranging the caravan to his liking. After some quick haggling, he agrees to take you on as a passenger for a small fraction of the gold Grim gave you, and goes back to marshalling the caravan.

You end up riding in a wagon with two others: an overweight older woman who smells of beer and spices, and a young man with the head of a jackal and the two smallest fingers missing on each hand. The woman seems content to ignore you, while the jackal-headed man introduces himself as Paril al-Saif and seems inclined towards conversation, despite the oversized teeth making his words hard to understand at times. He's friendly, at least. The driver, a tall woman who sways with the grace of a dancer and carries a spear and several small javelins, arrives soon after, and the caravan is on its way.

Out in the desert, it's oven-hot, the sun pounding down on you despite the cover of the wagon's canopy and the air shimmering with a heat haze over the sands. You head west, towards the sun slowly making its way down towardsthe horizon. Paril goes to sit near the opening of the wagon, staring out at the desert with a hungry expression.

 

[Cherubian]

I personally prefer to stay deeper in the shade the wagon's canvas provides, where the heat is at least a little more bearable. Despite all the divine gifts I have been given none will really protect me against such a harsh environment, so I minimize physical activity.

To help pass the monotony of the hours of travel I do engage in some conversation with Paril, curious about what fate led to his mutation. In turn for obvious reasons I stay vague on my reasons for travel.

 

[ylvathrall]

Paril doesn't have any issues explaining. "I was sold into slavery when I was a child," he says, "and my owner's daughter wanted to experiment with flesh-shaping. So she used me for practice. I tried to escape a few times, lost my fingers for that, but eventually I settled into it. Well, I earned my freedom last week, and now I get to leave the city." He grins a jackal grin and looks out at the sands. "Never been outside before. Feels good. This is a good day."

 

[Cherubian]

I can understand his sentiment, though personally I do prefer to be inside one of the not quite that hot pyramid cities. Sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall of the wagon I continue to dig, mostly out of sheer curiosity.

"Congratulations are in order then, it seems." I should know, if not for a very lucks stroke of fate I would likely be a sex slave myself by now. "But mind telling me why you are heading for Itar now? I am sure for you the caravan fee was a substantial cost."

 

[ylvathrall]

"Absolutely," Paril says. "But I couldn't stand staying in the same city I lived in as a slave. This is a chance to start fresh. Start a new life."

 

[Cherubian]

That is a notion I can definitely sympathize with.

"Still, mind me asking how you could afford the trip in first place? Did your freedom come with an allowance in gold? And what are your plans once you reach Itar?"