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Everything posted by Eon Silvertongue

  1. Eon nods in acquiescence, and with a deft twist of the wrist, the dagger seemingly disappears. "You're the boss. Lead on."
  2. "I find that a dagger through the heart is pretty immediately terminal. There'd be no "Oh, I have been stabbed, better slash my hand, daub this message, put my dagger away and quietly expire." There would be "Oh," and he would be dead. Particularly with the blade actually buried in his heart." Eon sighs. "Several issues with this. One; We both do not know this. Because people do. Not everyone is well versed in a blade to know the most efficient methods of killing themselves. Two; What you are talking about are what you would do were you trying to kill him. Not him committing suicide. Three; There is nothing hasty about his message. If it was, it would have been a fraction the length, the letters would have been different sizes and it would have faded in and out as he ran out of blood and continued on rather than going over everything clearly. Four; if it is as you say, he managed to turn around and barbecue his attacker without sustaining any other defensive wounds. Five: If that is so, I suppose he tore his own shirt to paint a bullseye on where he wished to be stabbed? AS I find it hard to believe that if there was enough of a scuffle to tear his shirt there are not other cuts or abrasions on his person, and what killed him was a single stab, not a slash, and further, a stab that was not pushed the whole way in.. Sooooo no. I sincerely doubt he was killed by this thing. Besides. Were he dying, why bother writing trapped in his message at all?" "In this regard, we are at least in agreement. Though I'd like to know why Shayuri thinks we shouldn't first." He leans back against the wall, one foot resting on it as he takes out the cloth and proceeds to at least clean the dagger of any blood.
  3. "Well shit." Eon mutters to himself. Placing a commiserating hand on Arturs shoulder, giving a light squeeze. As Delgath pipes up he responds "You'd be more useful by the door, actually. Stabbing anything that tries to lock us in. Again. But thank you." paying the irate warrior no more heed, he moves into the room. "For all that, though. It looks fairly straightforward. Toral was in here and was attacked. He killed him or it with fire, but the door had been sealed and he wasn't able to open it from the inside. He committed suicide rather than facing a slow death by starvation or suffocation." he pauses for a moment, eyes glancing over the message left behind and frowning. "Or possibly just in shame. About three days ago." he hunkers down, glancing in askance at the dagger still on his hip and the one lodged into his chest. "Though why the Dwarfs dagger is beyond me." He gestures to the pictographs displaying the Dwarf wielding a dagger and again at the Sarcophagus distinctly missing a dagger of any description. With a quiet "Pardon me" to the corpse, he reaches forward and, one hand splayed against the chest, withdraws the dagger with the other. Standing up and looking at the dagger, he grunts. "Well, it's a dagger, certainly. Of good quality. Dwarven, obviously. Beyond that, I've got nothing. Could be magic. Could not. You know anything about it, Arturs?"
  4. Eon looks askance at Dread, letting out a snort thick with scorn. A blade of ill quality indeed "I saw no mewling. And to claim as much speaks more to your own inadequacies than any potential fault of the rest. A paladin that turned away every undead within sight. I saw fire and lightning turned to our aid and I saw recognition of capabilities, where those that recognised an inability to outright kill struck in ways to deflect and delay. And then I saw a meathead railing about the injustice of it all. Your inability to recognise any contributions because they didn't result in an outright death immediately is ill becoming a warrior of your supposed tactical acumen. But then, why am I bothering. I'd be better served talking to one of the corpses. They might at least contribute something meaningful to the conversation. They're certainly more personable." He'd met Dreads sort time and time again. On both sides of the law. They kept going to a certain point, full of braggodocio. And then they're found face down in a canal with a dagger in their back and a belly full of poison, just to be sure. He inclines his head to the Paladin. "I'm a suspicious sort, at the best of times. Growing up as I did, I tend to assume the worst. It means I'm pleasantly surprised when they don't come about. Worst case scenario for me. Toral, in an attempt to contribute more to the village, summoned up something he shouldn't have and he's being used like a meat puppet. Option two: he somehow woke up this long dead wizard and the wraith is doing much the same. Both of these explain the potential fixation on Arturs as well as the use of the undead. But then, that's my knee jerk reaction, as I said. Option three: the wards were doing more than just keeping the shelter intact and protected, but were in fact acting as a prison of some sort. The danger seemingly past, Toral is not just maintaining the wards, but actively studying them and trying to make changes. Predictable results ensue and the end result is much like options one and two." there's a brief pause as he cocks his head in thought. "Actually, worst worst case is we're standing on top of a portal to one of the hellscapes and the entire world is about to be eaten by demons or the horrors are back. But I don't think that's happened. Far too little screaming so far. But anyway. The rest are more boring and or mundane. Those are the ones which fit what I know..... as well as making for a better story." The deadpan look he receives from some of the party has him chuckling. "Hey, I'm a Bard. Stories are my thing, and no matter how warped they may become, there's a grain of truth to pretty much all of them."
  5. Eon let out a small sigh, flicking some of the errant gore from the length of his blade, quietly running a cloth over the steel to remove any lingering traces of the rot. A moment in the field saves an hour off it. Or so his mentor had said, at any rate. Sliding the rapier back into it's scabbard with a whispering rasp, he turns to the Party. "Well. That went well, I think." there's a moment of stunned silence at his chipper declaration and he shrugs. "Yeesh. Tough crowd. But I think we learned a lot today. Really grew as people. Oh, and found out that our mysterious villain is some flavour of Necromancer or undead abomination and seems to have a fixation on our young friend here." he throws an arm around Arturs shoulder, all bright smiles with sharp edges. "So...... know any Necromancers you may have pissed off in the last ever? I'll admit, I have suspicions now. Or rather, some of my already established suspicions are looking more likely as time goes on. Cause that level of dedication isn't spawned on a whim. They really desperately wanted to kill you. So you either A) Pissed someone off royally or B ) Someone reckons out of all of us, you are the most dangerous to them, either by knowing something, or posessing something."
  6. Eon's gonna attack number 7 in the hopes of taking it out of the fight. Thrust: 1d20+5 25 Striking with superlative style! Follow Through: 2d8+3 16 Eon tisks in derision. "You know, Dread. I think I understand why you have to compensate so much. Maybe if you took some of the dick out of your personality, you'd have been able to satisfy some of those poor women." He casually steps to the side, the tip of his blade a flicker of glinting steel as it first tears the throat of one of the zombies and then pierces through the eyesocket and punches clean through the back of it's head. The zombie gives a briefly terminated groan as he withdraws the blade and it drops like a sack of potatos. "Besides. I thought your were supposed to be awesome? Am I supposed to be impressed yet? What stories I will be able to tell. Brave and mighty Dread. OF such skill that he was overcome by zombies and needed his party to bail him out. Tisk tisk." The derision in his voice was thick enough to be a physical thing. Could have been, if he had projected it a bit more. "Hurt is hurt, if it makes them easier to kill, stop bitching and fucking kill them."
  7. Eon is casting Vicious mockery on Zombie number 3, as it's the only one unturned and he's unlikely to be able to kill it in one hit. Vicious Mockery: 1d4 2 It needs to pass a wisdom save or suffer disadvantage on its next attack roll. Will fluff once I come up with something for it. For now, carry on. Turning to the Zombie doing his utmost to chew Artur's face off, Eon raises one eyebrow. "You know, Arturs, it's sort of alarming how they seem to be fixating on you a bit. Something we should know?" letting our a piercing whistle to catch the Zombies attention, he continues. "I see the gods really broke the mould when they were making you.... have you tried asking for your money back?"
  8. Attack of Opportunity: 1d20+5 8 -_-" This is why I hate DnD. D20's loathe me.
  9. Benefits to being a bard: General all round awesomeness. Good storytellers. Definitely literate. Do not need instructions translated into gorilla in order to understand them. Can post in the right place. Action: Casting Vicious Mockery at #1 Rolls: Vicious Mockery: 1d4 4 as well as suffering disadvantage on it's roll. Bonus Action: And Shayuri gets a Bardic inspiration dice. I will add the fluff tomorrow once I wake up. Fluff Eon felt a shudder of revulsion claw it's way up his spine as he landed in the corpses lap with a sound that he did not want to think to hard on the provenance of. He was no stranger to dead things, but sitting on top of them was not something he could claim any degree of comfort with. Feeling the corpse jolt underneath him, he closes his eyes in resignation "Of course, you wouldn't be as dead as you appeared. Of. Fucking. Course." Pushing off from the wall, he nimbly takes his feet, drawing his rapier at the same time. Looking down on his opponent he feels a sneer of disgust creeping across his face. "Ugh. I can't tell whether being left to rot for a week made you better or worse looking. Either way." he shudders dramatically, the corpse reeling under the force of his disdain. "Come on! They're only corpses. They've already died once. Just gotta make it stick this time! Come on Shayuri, talk about frying fish in the barrell!" the surprise at the sudden animations gives way under the force of his exhortation, his sheer belief in the parties capabilities bolstering resolve, and spurring them on.
  10. Initiative: 1d20+3 18 Well, better than what I rolled previously.
  11. Pffft. Not with my Acrobatics score I wont. (watch as I botch and have to go and create another character. xD) Reflex Save: 1d20+3 21 Acrobatics: 1d20+5 10 Well.... it wasn't a botch?
  12. Pulling up the half mask to cover the bottom half of his face and hopefully filter out some of the smell, Eon grimaces in disgust. "Well. I think we found some of the errant Villagers." He takes a step into the room, breathing shallow. Approaching one of the corpses, he hunkers down, the dagger a glint of steel in his hand as he uses the flat to raise the head. "Throats in one piece. No obvious wounds..... looks like they sealed themselves in. Might have suffocated if they couldn't get the door open again once they closed it. Which means that whatever we're looking for is likely elsewhere in the Shelter." He lets the head drop back down to the corpses chest. Standing up, he takes a look around the room. "How many people would you say have gone missing, Arturs? My guess is this lot is the group of villagers they sent in. No Women. No Children. Though given the room was sealed, what we're looking for is likely elsewhere..... although....." He focuses on the door once again. "You said only you three knew how to open the door, which would explain why they may have gotten sealed in in the first place, but that doesn't explain why the door was open to begin with. You said it's only opened for special events? I'm assuming the last one wasn't particularly recent." One of the corpses by the door catches his interest and he moves over to it, wincing in sympathy as the extent of it's injuries. "Ah. Mostly no obvious wounds." The corpse in front of him was just by the door and one of it's arms and legs was mangled beyond recognition. "Caught in the door maybe?" he winces in sympathy "Not a fun way to go."
  13. Eon stepped out the door, raking his fingers through his hair and putting on his hat, pulling it down to shade his eyes from the early morning sun. Blearily blinking against the light, he spies the rest of the group and approaches the table in silence helping himself to some food. Offering little more than a grunt in greeting. Unusual for the usually smiling and chatty Bard, it was something the rest of the party had had to get used to as they travelled. Eon was not a morning person. He'd perk up a bit once he had some food and drink in him, but wouldn't reach his usual effervescent self till mid-day. Quickly downing a glass of water, he sighed. Cool, sweet, Refreshing..... and not coffee. Gods he wished he had remembered to bring some along, but he'd been in a bit of a rush at the time. Nothing like it to put some pep in your step. When approached about the plan he grumbles something approaching assent before returning to his food, already looking much less like a corpse than he had been.
  14. Eon cocked his head to the side in surprise. Seeing the Paladins arrival with Wizard in tow. Still, he supposed. Saved him the effort of turfing them out of bed for their watch. The Paladin was probably used to it. Most religious types were, from his experience. Temples kept the strangest hours. Shrugging, he greets the two with a quiet "Morning" and a nod. As everyone else exchanged brief pleasantries, he drew his cloak tighter about himself to ward off any more of the nights chill. He was going to be glad to be back inside. His lifestyle was oft nocturnal as it was, but he still preferred being inside and in the.... not quite as cold, at least. "Been all quiet so far. Nothing of any particular note. Although, we did take a look around earlier. The scratches on the door seem to actually form sigils and carry at least a slight charge of magic. A curse of some description. We decided to leave 'em be for tonight and talk it over with everyone in the morning." he says, gesturing towards the front of the house, indicating the sigils. "just figured you'd like a heads up for your watch, so you can go ahead with everything in mind." He offers the two a small smile. "Now, if you don't have any questions, my bed is calling me." he nonetheless doesn't move, allowing them time to gather their thoughts and ask any questions they might have.
  15. Eon hummed in acceptance, but otherwise remained silent as they returned to the hall for the remainder of their watch.
  16. He offers a shrug and a slight self-deprecating smile. "Being able to recognise and repeat Coats of Arms and Heraldry is part of a Bards stock and trade. One develops an eye for details like personal sigils and the like if only to avoid offending your patrons." he demurred. Left unsaid was that it also helped when it came to forging documents, but that was besides the point. "My mentor showed it to me more as warning than anything else. She deemed that being able to recognise a cursed location *before* one walked inside to be of some use." he shrugs, tone sardonic. "I can't say I disagree with her." He pipes down to let her work her magic, keeping a wary eye on the surrounding streets. Particularly those points where his vision began to dwindle and the shadows drew uncanny shapes that couldn't help but catch the eye. "As you say. But best not to underestimate. Still. At least we know that it's a general malignancy, rather than a pointed vandetta." He pauses a second, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'm not actually sure which I would have preferred, to be honest." And they circled the hall, quiet Elvish floating through the air as they continued the patrol. "It's strange. To go through so much effort for such a comparatively petty end. And.... to be honest, I would not expect anyone who knew how to use these Runes to be so.... I don't know. Slapdash? In their application. Maybe it's my own perfectionist nature, but it strikes me as odd that these sigils are as crude as they are. " He shakes his head. "Regardless, do you think that we'd be able to disrupt the magic safely by breaking the Sigil? Stories abound of disrupting magic by breaking a symbol of some sort, but I will be the first to acknowledge that in many cases the story comes before a lot of trifling details."
  17. Eon let out a low whistle, going on to explain the symbol to his companion. "Whatever it is, it's got a serious Axe to grind with the village, seemingly. And either thinks it can use magic, but can't..... or is just really bad at it. You getting anything from the Sigil? I can't tell just by looking and I'd rather not poke at it too much if I can avoid it." He pauses in thought for a second, arms crossed and a finger idly tapping at his chin. "We may also want to check the other houses, see if they're all like this, or if it's just Alrid's house. That can wait till morning, however. Best we not wander too far when we're on watch."
  18. Eon winced at the sudden sound. He'd gotten used to the quiet of the night and the call sounded disproportionately loud in the otherwise deserted streets. The village remained ominously silent even afterwards and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Not fear, as such, but anticipation. Wondering if the noise was the spark that would set off the Powder Keg. When nothing happened he pads towards the edge of the roof, taking one last look around before dropping down to the street level and landing on silent feet. Coming up behind his fellow Half-Elf, he takes a moment to observe the scratches, humming an agreement to her comment. There really was a purpose to these scratches. Trailing one gloved finger along the edge of the divots in the wood, he frowns in thought, mentally digging through the trove of knowledge he'd acquired down through the years. Location was interesting. There were some scratches around the edges of both door and shutters, but they seemed almost random, probably just from trying to leverage the door open, as Delgath had said. But the scratches in the middle of the door.... His eyes flick to the shutter, where similar markings adorned the shutters. Marking the middle of each point of entry like that was interesting. Could be a marker for the house. Thieves had been known to leave subtle marks behind in order to remind themselves and warn other thieves about the contents of houses, the locations of safe houses and the like. But that was usually one mark well hidden in a location only Thieves would give a second look at. Marking every door and window seemed like a lot of effort for a mark that said "You've already been here". It almost looked like some rudimentary ward. A mark on every point of entry felt like it could be warding something from entering the building. But that would be distinctly odd if the thing was trying to get in itself. Curious.
  19. Eon let out a snort, rolling his eyes at the Warriors exit. Catching Rhosh's eye he flashes a quick grin, making the gesture that Thieves everywhere had come to use for "Nobles" and the general dickishness that seemingly comes with any title, a long suffering expression of "What can you do?" on his features. He had nothing but respect for the skills, but Bahamuts Platinum Ballsack the man was a boor. No sense of fun whatsoever. He continues as though Delgath hadn't spoken, "I'll keep vigil with Shayuri and wake Krusk and our Arturs for the final watch." He stops for a second, the amusement draining from his face. "Do keep your knives close and a weather eye out. Sehanine's blessings on you. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
  20. Eon nodded in agreement, still plucking away. "If Delgath is taking the first watch, I'll take the second. We can set up a rotation if this takes longer than we'd imagined."
  21. Looking out the window, at the surrounding darkness, Eon ventures "Well, if they show up every night, odds are good we'll experience it for ourselves in short order. The question becomes do we wait till morning. Keep watch but otherwise rest tonight and start investigating properly tomorrow. Do we patrol the village tonight and wait for the thing to come to us, or do we cut right to the source and go to the Shelter while it has left it's probable lair?"He sat sits back idly picking up the cittern that had been sitting propped up against his chair. He idly begins strumming, long hours of practice allowing him to play without even thinking.
  22. Mmm. For the most part. That's not to say that the characters can't argue like it's going out of fashion, though. But yeah. Its the same conceit that ensures that I will never steal from another party member. A certain level of suspending disbelief is to be expected in order to game together properly. And honestly, nothing destroys parties quite like having the rogues steal from them. It's one of the few things that actually pisses me off OOC as much as it does IC.
  23. Eon nodded along "Aye. I'm just trying to get a grasp on how things are happening.Does it happen to several houses a night? Or does whatever it is move on after a single one? Have any of the houses been visited more than once? I'm assuming that it started with the houses closest to the Shelter, but does it spread deeper into the village or has it remained at the edges?"
  24. Eon had spent most of the night plying his primary trade. The people, he could see, were mostly simple folk and the situation had been weighing on them heavily. The appearance of their little group had begin to lift their spirits, true, but the more they got to unwind, the better. The less likely someone was to do something stupid. And so, he spent most of the meal travelling from table to table, laughing, singing, playing and talking, the atmosphere lightening as he continued on till the sounds of laughter and happy talking began to build. When the people finally left, he plopped down in his seat with a sigh, winking at one of the serving girls and sending her scurrying away flushing scarlet. After that, he listened with an politely concerned expression. The man didn't *seem* to be trying to conceal anything and was only concerned with his people. Running his fingers through his hair and tucking an errant strand behind one of his ears he nodded at the Dragonborn "Could be, but it's unlikely to be a cursed Were, at any rate. They change with the moon and the marks were more akin to fingernails than the claws one would expect from their kind, even with the full moon having just passed. Those born as Were, on the other hand..... well, the claws remain the point, I think. We don't know enough to narrow it down. There are... a lot of things that could do this." He turns back to Alrid, flashing the tired man a smally, sympathetic smile. "On the nights the marks were left, did the people in the houses hear something scratching at their doors? Did anyone hear anything, for that matter?"
  25. Eon Silvertongue Eon Silvertongue Bard3(Valour)/Rogue 1 Medium humanoid (Half Elf), Chaotic Neutral Age: , Height: 6'3", Weight: , Eyes: Amethyst, Skin: Tanned Armor Class: 17 (12 +2 Shield + 3 DEX) Hit Points: 34 (10 + 8 + 8 + 8) Speed: 30 ft. STR 10 (+0) | DEX 17 (+3) | CON 14 (+2) | INT 16 (+3) | WIS 12 (+1) | CHA 20 (+5) Saving Throws: STR 0 | DEX +3 | CON +2 | INT +3 | WIS +1 | CHA 20 +7 Skills: Athletics(+1), Acrobatics(+5), Sleight of Hand(+5), Stealth(+5), Arcana(+7), History(+7), Investigation(+4), Nature(+4), Religion(+4), Animal Handling(+2), Insight(+2), Medicine(+2), Perception(+2), Survival(+2), Deception(+7), Intimidation(+6),Performance(+9), Persuasion(+9) Senses: Passive Perception 12 Languages: Common, Elvish, Dragonic, Thieves Cant Actions: Under Construction Feats: Actor Abilities: DarkVision: Thanks to his Elven heritage,, Eon has superior vision in dark and dim environments. He can see in Dim environments as if it were brightly lit and in dark environments as if it were dim, up to 60 Feet. Cannot discern colours in the dark. Only shades of Grey. Fey Ancestry: Has advantage on saves versus Charm effects and Magic cannot be used to put him to sleep. Spellcasting: There's a Magic to song and story, the actions of ancient heroes and villains echoing down through time. Thanks to his training as a bard, Eon is adept at tapping into this collective mythology and turning it to his own end. As such, he is capable of casting spells. He is a spontaneous caster and as such does not need to prepare any spells ahead of time. Jack of All Trades: As a Bard, Eon's been trained to turn his hand to anything. While he may not be as capable with it, he gets to add half his proficiency bonus to any Skills he is not proficient in. Song of Rest: Soothing music and rousing stories encourage even the most damaged of his companions to fight on. During a short rest, if any of his allies would regain hit points, they regain an additional D6 Hit points on top of it. This can affect Eon himself, as well as his companions. Bardic Inspiration: A font of old stories, Eon has a tale for every occasion and uses them to great effect in order to rouse his allies, that they might follow the example of ancient heroes. He can target anyone within 60 Feet that can see and hear him. Within 10 minutes of being affected b the spell, the target can add 1D6 to an Ability check, Attack roll or saving throw they make. They can wait until after they roll the D20 in question to decide to use it, but it must be used before the GM informs them of the outcome. Combat Inspiration: As a member of the College of Valor, Eon has been trained in projection, being able to make himself heard over even the fiercest of battles, goading his allies on with encouraging stories. As such, the Bardic Inspiration dice can now be used to add to a Damage roll in addition to everything else. Alternatively, if the character is attacked, they may roll the Inspiration die and add the score to their AC in order to avoid an attack. Sneak Attack: Thanks to his time on the streets, Eon knows that sometimes cheating is the only option. As such, he's adept at using surprise and distractions to strike at vulnerable areas. If he has Advantage on an attack roll, or one of his allies is within 5 Feet distracting his enemy, Eon can add an additional D6 to one of his attacks per turn. Actor: Well used to playing a variety of roles, Eon has found a lot of use for his skills perhaps not in the method originally intended for them. He gains advantage on Deception and Performance checks when he is passing himself off as someone else. Furthermore, his skills in mimicry mean that after hearing another creature or person talk or otherwise make a sound for a minute, he is able to mimic them almost flawlessly. Characters may make a Wisdom(Insight) check contested by his Charisma(Deception) in order to determine that the effect is faked. Background: Urchin Skills: Stealth, Sleight of Hand Tools: Disguise Kit, Thieves Tools Feature: City Secrets Eon has spent a lot of time on the Streets of the Crossing. In that time, he's learned the city by heart. He knows the secret patterns and flow to cities and can find passages through the urban sprawl that others would miss. When he's not in combat, he (and companions he leads) can travel between any two locations in the city twice as fast as your speed would normally allow. Proficient: Light Armor, Medium Armour, Simple Weapons, Martial Weapons Voice, Flute, Cittern, Thieves Tools, Disguise Kit, Alche Traits: I hide scraps of food and trinkets in my Pockets Ideals: I'm going to prove I'm worthy of a better life. Bonds: I owe a debt I can never repay to a person who took pity on me. Flaws: Gold seems like a lot of money to me, and I'll do just about anything to get more of it. Equipment: Rapier, Dagger, Leather Armour, Entertainers Pack, A Small Knife, A map of the Crossroads, A pet mouse, A pendant that belonged to his mother, A set of Common Clothers a belt pouch containing 10 gp Wealth: Spells
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