Neeva of the Katjaa

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About Neeva of the Katjaa

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  1. Neeva's eyes narrowed at her heritage being being questioned. "I am Neeva of the Katjaa. Tharra is my tribemate. I was trained by the wise woman to be a Talespinner and then the Forest Gods began sending me omens and signs, allowing me to foretell the future. So I became a soothsayer of my tribe as well, which has led me from the Dharh Mesh to here. And you, Nobel Freeman, would do well to not question my heritage again, for I am Dhari as sure as your blood is red." Neeva said darkly. She then took a breath and relaxed somewhat. "We came to you in good will. Please do not ruin that." she added as she relaxed a bit more.
  2. Neeva watched Noble through the shutters along with the others, watching him speak to the children. "I do not sense any deception from him. He seems to be a honest and good man. Likely a rarity here." Neeva shared before stepping back with the others as he returned. "We are not cityfolk, and were warned of Marg. ? Told us of you, but having never met you for ourselves, we were unsure if we could trust you. Do not be offended." Neeva said to Nobel. "I think you are a good man, Nobel Freeman, one of few in this city. We appreciate your aid though may not show it the way cityfolk might. Again, do not be offended."
  3. "Hmm. Why would pirates take captives then, if not for slaves?" Neeva thought aloud. "And do you know anything else of this ship? Even what it looks like or a common port it visits perhaps?" she asked as she considered this change to the situation. "We should still check to see if he is here, since we made the trip. If not, then we can move on. How long do you think it would take to check for him?" she added.
  4. "That's not the way of it. The Gods make their stances and will known. Tarhun and his followers, stomp out wickedness and evil, such as slavers. This is not a place where one would see him worshiped, or likely even mentioned. Something is not right here, but we do not know what it is yet." Neeva clarified to Aridha. "The man we seek is a stargazer, but it does not mean what you think. Stargazer is what many call a Soothsayer, like myself, since many in the cities look up to the stars for signs and omens. He likely has no tower. He could be set up nearly anywhere in the city. Our best chance of finding him on our own is in the markets where he could offer his fortunetelling, for a price, to the most people. If we take some time there, we may find him." she explained to the others. "Otherwise I could speak with the cityfolk and try to locate him. That may draw some curious attention though, even moreso than we have already, so it is not desirable." she added as an alternative.
  5. During the trip Neeva considered the name of the ship and thought back to her studies under Tharra's mother, recalling the knowledge of other Gods she passed along to Neeva in her youth. "Something does not sit will with me." she finally said to the others in a low voice. "Tarhun is a God of Storms and Lord of Battle. He is a warrior hero, the son of Mithra and Kishar. He is about heroic courage, valor, strength and honor. He teaches that people should challenge wickedness and crush it underfoot. So 'Tarhun's Fury' makes no sense as the name of a slaver's ship. It is not something he or his followers would engage in." she explained. "I think things are not as they seem or maybe as we were led to believe. Be aware." she cautioned.
  6. Neeva listened to the warlord closely as he explained the offer. She was not overly fond of cities if Quodeth was a typical example of them, but this Marg sounded even worse and slavery, or at least forced slavery, was not something that sat well with her and from the looks of it, Tharra shared the sentiment. An entire city built on a foundation of such was not a place that held any appeal for her. Neeva stepped to Tharra's side and nodded at her tribemate's words. "Same. All of it." she said simply in typical Dhari fashion.
  7. "I wonder why he needs mercenaries instead of using his own men?" Neeva wondered. "Mercenaries are expendable and not affiliated with him. The task must be too dangerous for his own men, or he cannot be linked to it. Or both." she thought aloud. "Either way, I will not abandon friends and tribemates to peril. If you go, then so shall I."
  8. Neeva looked at the broken pot in her hand and sighed. She was not terribly familiar with metal cookware, having grown up in the Dhar Mesh, but since she had been traveling with her new companions she had noted the options that cooking in a copper gave them. She did not know much about metalworking, but it was obvious that this damage was well beyond the ease of simply pounding out a few dents. They would likely need to either acquire a new pot or find a place with suitable tools to repair it. There was, in theory, a third option, but it was one that Neeva was still unsure how she felt about. In their talks over the many weeks since the battle atop the tower in Quodeth, Yngvar had spoken of arcane powers. He called them spells and rituals, ways to focus of arcane energy to achieve a certain effect. He said that it was a simple, almost effortless matter to repair objects such as this with the right spell. Neeva was familiar enough with rituals, they were common among the Dhari. They were ways of paying homage to the Forest Gods and the spirits of the slain animals they hunted and many other things. They were gestures of respect and sometimes prayer, though certainly not magic. But those cultists atop the tower... they were indeed doing a ritual and using the circle they had drawn to bring something unnatural into this world from some thrice damned hell, and it was indeed some sort of foul sorcery. Sorcery was something that she, and most people for that matter, did not react well to. At best people were distrustful of it. And why shouldn't that be? it can transform people into unnatural beasts, bring fire from the sky, summon otherworldly horrors and countless other terrible things. Neeva had also seen that such arcane power could accomplish good things as well. Yngvar brought his sorcery to bare on the beast atop the tower, summoning fire, arcane blasts and even toppling the tree with rolling thunder. Even the information they had gained about the ritual was due to Malok's magic, though he did pay for it with his sanity for at leash a short while. His magic had even saved her and the girl tied to he back when she lost her grip on the rope. This had all caused Neeva to change her view on magic somewhat. It was not some innately evil thing, no more than a wolf or fire or a sword. But like the wolf, it would always be a bit wild and though it could be trained to a degree, you never knew when it would bite you. You could guide it and direct it, but never truly controlled it. Fire too nobody ever truly controlled, but if you respected it fire could keep your warm, cook your feed and keep animals away. And like a sword in that you can do good or evil with it, protecting your family or slaughtering innocents, but in the hands of the unskilled it was nearly as much of a danger to themselves as it was to others and could cause harm unintentionally. Since seeing her in action that night atop the tower, Yngvar had spoken to Neeva of arcane magics and how her stories and songs were more than just inspirational (or demotivating to enemies), but were actually magical. 'Words have power.' was what he told her. Neeva was unsure of what to make of it though. She was no sorceress, but she could not deny how telling the great and terrible beast of it's on oncoming death had made in run from her in such a panic that it was not even concerned with the stabs and slashes it would receive. She had seen how her stories could inspire others to keep fighting and shrug off wounds and how her songs and stories could help people relax and recover. Her stories were vivid to be sure, often to the point that people could smell and hear things that only existed in the stories, but was that all magic? Is that why the Wise Woman picked her to be trained as a Talespinner? Neeva could not be sure, but she knew she was no sorceress. If there was magic in her stories, the she was unsure of whence it came, but it was becoming clear to Neeva that she was destined to do more than tell stories and sing songs, however inspiring they may be. She had always looked up to the Wise Woman, and felt that was likely the path that had been chosen for her, but the fight atop the tower was eye opening to Neeva. She was able to help by inspiring the others, this was true, but she had to admit that Yngvar seemed to be right about something. After several stories and inspirational words they seemed to lose their effect. To her it was creative and mental fatigue, but Yngvar said it was fatigue due to the channeling of arcane energies. Regardless of the source though, Neeva knew she would not always have such inspiring words and she did not wish to make them a crutch either. So since the battle atop the tower in Quodeth Neeva had set about preparing herself to aid in a more direct way as well. She was Dhari, and of course knew how to hunt and fight,. But the fighting they would likely continue to do and the foes they would likely face would require more than what she had learned in the Dhar Mesh. She studied with her new companions when she could, learning to use a wide variety of weapons, heavier armor, and of course a shield. She could not see herself ever moving past leather to wearing the hot, heavy and loud bronze and metals of the heavier armors. Indeed, she had even managed to get some of the hide of the beast from the tower crafted into a leather curiass for her, into which she would care and burn a record of their exploits, turning the hide of the beat, their first great foe, into not only a trophy, but also armor to protect her, making her a walking record of their adventures. So her compnaions had seen to her instruction in the use of a shield for added protection, which also meant using something beside her two-handed warspear, something smaller and one-handed. Neeva recalled Albrich's expression when she drew her shortsword and asked if it would suffice. It struck Neeva as a little odd, for the sword had always been a weapon of last resort in her mind, but the fine steel sword, not of Dwarven, nor apparently Atlantean, manufacture according to Albrich, certainly caught the dwarf off guard. 'Aye. That'll certainly do.' he had told her. Since that day, thanks to their training her own frequent practice, Neeva had become quite comfortable with the sword and shield and had indeed found she had quite the talent for parrying away weapon strikes of her enemies. She still traveled with warspear in hand, but when it came time for serious combat, she would often draw her sword and shield. Done reminiscing, Neeva did what should could since boiling water was no longer an option, starting a new fire and tending it as she worked on and went over stories in her head, waiting for the others to return.
  9. Noir *rolls* 1d6: 1: 1
  10. Once the party relocated to somewhere safe and secure, Neeva set about looking over their wounds while humming a simple tune to herself. After a minute or two she spoke in a sing-song manner... Gather ‘round and hear the tale of heroes thrust together by fate, In end the was naught but five, though once they numbered eight. On the dark streets of Quodeth this band, they did meet, An elf, a dwarf and a local girl, two northmen and Dhari three The city’s priests did gather them to ask for their aid, They offered food and drink and told them of innocents that had been slain. Deep beneath the temple the bodies had be brought, So to them our heroes went to find answers that they sought. The dead bodies were covered in marks that looked like somebody did write, With the help of the elf’s spells they discovered they were bites! From tables where they rested the dead bodies did rise, Our heroes slew them once more to discover the foul plant they hid inside. Through insight gained from skills arcane, of a ritual they did discover, But the price was paid by the elf, his mind was not in our world, but another. From the temple they found there way to an inn by the sea, And there another to aid them they did meet Though dark tunnels and rivers under the ground they did ferry, The elf was still not well, so him they did carry. In a room they waited for a woman with dark hair with knowledge they would need, Impatient some grew and in time two would leave And the elf, fair Malok, was in no state to sneak through a city, find cultists and fight, So it was decided he would stay and rest, for he had helped them much by night. The woman for which they waited approached them in time and offered her aid, And in time a plan, naught but simple, was made They find the cult and the stop the ritual they though would bring them power, But little did the cultists know, their grave would be their own tower Five here did depart that night to find and slay these cultists most dark, Listen now, ye gathered ‘round, for each would play their part Albrich the Stout, a dwarf, as strong as a horse, who fought with mace and shield, No matter the foes, it is battle he knows, and never he would yield Yngvar the Grim, a northman, wore chain and many he would kill For few knew that the man from the snow was a wizard of some skill Airdha the Swift, a Dhari of small size, was a skilled hunter whose arrows struck true, But on this night it was the way of dual blades that she would show she knew Tharra the Mighty, a Dhari huntress possessing a ferocity who bounds even not she knew, By her mace-axe and great sword on this night many she did slew And Neeva the Bold, the Dahri talespinner, who wrote this tale of battle and glory, She fought and led and blood she shed, playing a part in this story Through guards and up stairs in the tower they did creep, And on the roof the found the cult, but to them they were naught but sheep One by one the cultists fell to spear and sword and fire, And when triumph near in hand did the time become most dire. With the cultists slain the dead leader’s body arose, it twisted, writhed and grew Until before them stood something grotesque and new Fire, bronze and steel the abomination’s flesh did feel, Until the thought of it’s own destruction caused it to reel. The heroes stabbed and chopped and crushed with sword and axe and mace, And then from beneath their feet grew a new for for them to face. Below the girl, a sacrifice bound, a portal did appear, And through the hole into another world a new horror did draw near The ground beneath their feet shook and tore and the beast did roar near it’s end, And with arcane word thunder was heard which cased the roots of the tree to rend With spear and skill Neeva did steal the gril from the beast, But with the tree a fallin’ twas the horror’s worry in the least With a crash of thunder the tree did sunder the portal and it’s magic, But the floor did buckle and soon it would fall making this story most tragic By rope and stairs the heroes fled, as the cult and creatures they did beat, And one after another they gathered like sisters and brothers together in the street They looked around for stout Albrich, but he could not be found, the floor had collapsed under him and he had falled to the ground The heroes moured the loss of their dwarven friend, his body buried under the stones, when from the pile of blocks and wood they could hear him grumble in angry tones With strength and grunt the dwarf did pull free, and the beast behind him the others did see The beast too had lived and it roared and rose from the rubble, but Albrich was tired by now and had not time for the trouble With a great strength, his mace-axe, the dwarf did heft, into the beast's mouth and out the back of it's head the mace-axe left In a heap the beast collapsed on the pile, for this world was not one it would defile So listen well, you gathered here, and you might end up as sages, But never forget that this unlikely band would be heroes for the ages! The talespinner untied a large pouch from her belt and opened it, dumping a pile of large teeth, some with bits of flesh still attached, into her hand. "I made sure to grab these, so we would have trophies." she said, offering them Tharra, Aridha and even the others if they wished.
  11. Of course I shall return. Any tale of great heroes should be properly recorded and remembered to inspire future generations.
  12. Neeva lashed the girl to her back and grabbed the rope, lowering herself over the side. The stone of the tower shift and buckled as she descended the rope, only her strength honed from a life in the Dhar Mesh allowed her bare the extra weight of the girl. Eventually though, the distance proved too great and Neeva could feel her grip slipping as her arms burned and strained under the weight, until finally the Talespinner's strength gave out, the rope sliding between her hands until she finally gave up on it. With all of her remaining might and acrobatic prowess she twisted as she fell, shifting her body between the girl on her back and the rapidly approaching ground below. She might die this night, but this was a risk she knowingly took. The girl on her back had no such choice, so perhaps she could spear her such a death, even if it meant giving her own life. Neeva had served the Forest Gods well, headed their warnings and listened to their call. They would ensure she found her way to the Happy Hunting Grounds where she would meet her brother. not by blood, but by bond, once more. It was then that she spotted a form running toward the tower, looking up at it as it crumbled in place. It was the boy elf, Malok, recovered enough that he sought to lend his arcane power to the fight, even if late. He was too late though, for the fight at least, but not too late to help. With some arcane gestures Neeva could feel a shift in her fall. No longer was she plummeting like a stone, but instead she was drifting down, like a feather on a windless day. Softly her feet touched the street below as she landed before the boy elf..
  13. Neeva's eyes went wide at the sight of the growing opening beneath the bound girl. It was a portal of some sort, hovering in the below the girl at roughly ground level, over an actual hole in the floor through which she could see some of the next lower floor of the tower, and the portal was growing. She stared for a moment, caught in disbelief as her mind tried to grasp what she was seeing. There was something.. some stomach, maw, tentacled... thing... she could see through the portal, moving toward it, ready to grasp the proffered girl. Neeva finally snapped free with a shake of her head, her eyes falling on the tree and the cracks growing in the floor with every step of their current foe. The between this new hole and the stomping of the massive abomination they were already locked in combat with, the roof could not take much more of this. "Sorcerer! If you have been saving any arcane power, then I suggest you make use of it now! Trust in yourself and let your ancestors guide you!" Neeva yelled to Yngvar as she pulled her warspear from the ground. With several deft swings Neeva cut first the bonds securing the girls's legs, then arms from the frame and reached out, pulling her from it. The Dhari talespinner then shouldered the girl, or carried her if needed, and moved from the growing portal as fast as she could manage. "Dispatch this abomination quickly, lest it be joined by it's thrice-damned fellows!" Neeva yelled to the others. Bonus Action: Giving Bardic Inspiration dice to Yngvar. Action: Cutting the 'sacrificial' girl free from the frame/altar Move: Moving away from the 'gate' with the girl if possible, shouldering or flat out carrying her if needed. HP: 20/20 Arrows: 19/20 Rolls
  14. Neeva's brow furrowed as the abomination began to twist and contort, assuming a larger, even more disgusting form. That vile... thing... was a twisted and vile mockery of natural life. It did not belong in this world. It's very existence an affront to the Forest Gods. Defiantly Neeva stuck her spear into the 'ground' keeping to close and ready to grab. In fluid motion, practiced over many years living in the Dhar Mesh, Neeva slid off her bow with one hand while the other fetched an arrow from her quiver, drew the bow back and fired. The arrow found its mark in the flesh of the beast, near the wounds Tharra and Aridha has inflicted, causing even more ichor to spill forth. "Be it with spell, steel, bronze, stone or bare fists, this abomination must be purged from our world, and we are the ones this task has fallen to, and I have no doubt that we are up to the task!" Neeva encouraged. Bonus Action: None Move: None Action: Drawing bow and shooting the monster. HP: 20/20 Arrows: 19/20 Noir] 10:02 pm: shooting with bow Noir *rolls* 1d20: 10+4: 14 Noir *rolls* 1d20: 12+4: 16 [Noir] 10:02 pm: woo. hit [Noir] 10:02 pm: thank you Advantage [Noir] 10:02 pm: so damage is 1d8+Dex mod? [Noir] 10:04 pm: rolling damage [AceWildcard] 10:04 pm: what monster is that? Noir *rolls* 1d8: 6+2: 8 [Noir] 10:04 pm: woo! [Noir] 10:04 pm: I did 8!
  15. Neeva's lips curled into a smile as the abomination recoiled and fled from her. She could feel each of it's steps through the 'ground' as Aridha and the others chased after it. Her attention snapped to her tribemate's call and she scanned the ground by the altar, spotting the mace-axe. With all speed and grace of a jungle cat she raced to the discarded weapon and dove forward, tumbling over it and coming up with the mace-axe in hand. "Tharra! Your mace-axe!" as she lobbed the weapon toward her tribemate, sending it hurling through the air. "Do not let up! Our prey is bloodied and harried! Finish this abomination and live forever in glorious tale!" she cheered on, feeling the end was nigh for the beast. Bonus Action: Giving a Bardic Inspiration dice (1d6) to Tharra. Once within the next 10 minutes, the creature (Tharra) can roll the die and add the number rolled to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw it makes. The creature can wait until after it rolls the d20 before deciding to use the Bardic Inspiration die, but must decide before the DM says whether the roll succeeds or fails. Once the Bardic Inspiration die is rolled, it is lost. A creature can have only one Bardic Inspiration die at a time. Move: Moving to Tharra's mace-axe Action: Throwing Tharra's mace-axe to her (assuming it will take Neeva's action to do so)