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Post by elgatocello on Jul 7, 2011 22:29:28 GMT -4
"By the power of Sehanine, reveal your true form."
As Falon says these words, the small book quintuples in size and the squiggles on the page unscramble from their noodly, chaotic mess into a coherently laid out spellbook.
The book glows as you touch it, almost happy to see you.
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Post by joviality on Jul 7, 2011 22:49:00 GMT -4
Falon smiles at the book, delighted to have deciphered its magic. She then beams towards Jessamine, hoping to have made a friend by helping her with the spellbook.
Hopefully she isn't afraid of my smile, Falon swiftly thinks to herself, and redirects her attention toward the spellbook. She peers at its pages, desperately hoping to recognize a spell or two.
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 7, 2011 22:54:56 GMT -4
Niall jumps slightly, as the elf beside him staggers slightly when the small book goes from journal to tome in a split second. A tiny grin comes to his face, the first in quite a while.
"Mages!" He sighs exasperatedly, with a low rumbling chortle in his voice. "By Camulos, you never knows what to expect next around one." He turns to the individuals gathering at their cell doors.
"If we are to spill blood together in battle, introductions may be in order. It would be an affront to Camulos to fight alongside someone, whose name is beknownst only as a crime."
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Post by joviality on Jul 7, 2011 23:06:03 GMT -4
Though her attention is rapt by the spellbook, Falon hears Niall's request for an introduction and looks up a moment at him and the others. "Falongora. Or just Falon for short. I'm a mage. Please forgive my countenance... It's a scar from my youth I'm afraid. I think it's what gave me the charge for 'frightening children'."
After this brief interjection, she goes back to pouring over the tome, looking for a usable spell.
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Post by Juniper on Jul 8, 2011 8:31:42 GMT -4
Jessamine is murmuring to herself as she memorizes spells for the day, but she also spares just enough attention to look up. "I am Jessamine, and I suppose I'm a magus." She flashes a shy smile to Falon.
"I will not hold you responsible for your looks, wizard, for mine are no aid to me either. But my charge is less trumped up than that. Probably every fool caught for 'possession of stolen property' claims they didn't know it was stolen, but it is the truth. I never thought I would be guilty of trusting too soon." She flips another nervous glance up at the man, who is overly tall and imposing.
"You asked for names, sir, but neglected to give your own."
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 8, 2011 16:50:41 GMT -4
"Ah, my apologies, miss. I would be Father Niall McClaren, here in Acadia on business of the Church of Camulos."
The clacking of the prayer beads speeds up momentarily, as an irritated look crosses his face.
"I came here on behalf of a supplicant to the Church, to work with the enforcers of the law within the city to bring justice to a corrupt official. Ironic isn't it, that I be brought here by said enforcers for charges of treason?"
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 9, 2011 0:28:32 GMT -4
Site moves closer to the others. "Streetwalking here. My name is Sibet and I came back to see why my forest is being assaulted. "
Turning to Falon Sibet says, "I hope to do you justice. What poor skill I have I offer for the defense of your life."
Sibet bows her head slightly in Falon's direction.
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Post by Veritas on Jul 9, 2011 9:42:18 GMT -4
It seems the fellow named Brunno has finally lost his patience with the last of the lumps. The final fellow still asleep is a dwarf, but even by dwarven standards he is thick and corded in muscle and skin and beard. Today, he is dressed only in trews, laced below the bulge of his stomach, but it should be noted that the dwarf's stomach isn't made of fat, but instead thickly packed muscle. The dwarf's physique was closer to that of a strongman from the days of iron hauling competition. His beard lays over his chest in half a dozen forks, each carefully braided with a different pattern. Though most of his possessions had been compensated, each of the braids ends in a small silver holy symbol of a dwarven god; the largest of them all being a simple hammer.
His hair was in a long braid that was tucked to his side, and his eyes remained closed, as his thick chest rose and fell with the heavy breaths he was taking. It was a miracle, one might say, that he wasn't snoring heavily. However, when Brunno's elbow landed in his gut, the dwarf awoke, his mouth falling open with a loud belch, as he sat up and shoved the man away.
"By the name of Trudd, what is wrong with you, man!" he calls, growling as his feet slide off of the bunk, and he flops to them, rising, his midsection heaving in anger for a moment, before another deep breath is sucked in. Then, lowering his head and raising his hand to his face, he lets out a noise, a smaller murmur.
"Where am I, then? And is there any bloody water? I've got a headache the size of a dead ogre, and my breath probably smells like I ate one." Calloused fingers reach up and run through his hair, finding it sadly loose from the braid, but yet there doesn't seem so much time to deal with basic grooming. "And someone had best tell me what's going on here."
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 9, 2011 12:32:58 GMT -4
Sibet looks the dwarf over a few times looking as if to say something and then thinking the better of it, stays silent.
Finally she says, "Somehow i believe you might be aware of the Acaidian prison. It seems you too have been illegally gathered into this place to become entertainment for the crowds. We're due soon to battle other prisoners for the privilege of continuing to exist."
In another breath she says, "I am Sibet and i am at your service." She smiles with a light smirk then bows her head slightly while a smile just cracks the corners of her mouth. Old habits die hard.
She looks up and then straight at the dwarf. "Here are other members of what Brunno has referred to as 'our compound.'"
She points to each member as she says their name.
"Jessamine."
"Falon"
"Niall."
"The gentleman who has seen to it that you are not late to the games is Brunno."
"And you might be?"
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Post by Veritas on Jul 10, 2011 12:04:02 GMT -4
"I? I am Uric of Trudd," the dwarf says, as he pulls himself to his feet. Calloused, thick hands reach up and slide through his hair, untwisting the leather thong binding the complicated braid together, and without time to properly fix it, he pulls the red hair behind him and wraps the leather string about the hair, using two more to make a crude ponytail that he quickly sweeps over his broad, bare shoulders.
Despite the usual allegations of dwarves being dirty from years under ground, this dwarf was (mostly) clean, with his hair straight and well-kept, and his skin showing signs of darkness only over his face and arms, where the sun had tanned the flesh. Bright blue eyes regaled the folk in the room, and Uric nodded to each of them in turn.
"Sibet, Jessamine, Falon, Niall, and Brunno. Very well then. Someone tell me what we are to do, and then we shall do it. Trudd will enjoy this contest of strength."
Those eyes seem to focus on each person for a moment, as if poring into their souls. (Detect Evil, you only alarm if you are evil and 5 HD or higher, or have the aura class feature and are evil.)
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 10, 2011 15:59:06 GMT -4
Niall mentally lifts an eyebrow at the intense gaze of the dwarf, curious about why he is doing so.
(Spellcraft = [dice=20] + 5)
Hmm...must not be anything important, he thinks to himself.
"Indeed, good dwarf; there is not a more virtuous thing than to improve oneself through combat. It appears we all are to participate in such in teams of two. If I am correct, I believe you will be fighting alongside this fellow," he says, gesturing towards Brunno.
Glancing back at the dwarf, he gets a better look at the him and some of the holy symbols that he is wearing.
(Knowledge, Religion = [dice=20] + 5)
"You appear to be a man of faith, good Uric. It is good to see that, even in darker places such as this," Niall says, recognizing but not quite being able to place the association with his symbols.[rand=12609334900051572980054202254542377801724761777082788059288398559]
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Post by elgatocello on Jul 10, 2011 23:31:17 GMT -4
As the combatants move into their pairs, the warden returns, two other men, presumably guards, by her side containing boxes.
One by one, the two guards ask each of you, with little to no affect in their voices, "Sword or polearm?"
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Post by joviality on Jul 10, 2011 23:46:34 GMT -4
Falon answers quickly, without even pausing to think.
"Longsword, please."
If I am to fight to the death it shall be with one of the weapons of my people.
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Post by Juniper on Jul 11, 2011 6:58:45 GMT -4
There is possibly the trace of a smile on Jessamine's face as she asks for a sword. Her fingers itch for her own, but in many ways any will do.
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Post by Veritas on Jul 11, 2011 10:12:07 GMT -4
"I don't suppose you have a hammer of any sort," Uric says, with a hint of disappointment, as he looks to the boxes. Ah, but perhaps among the polearms? "Perhaps a lucerne hammer? That's a polearm, somewhat. If not, well. I'll take the biggest blade you have."
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