D&D 5E [D&D 5e] Planescape - In Through the Out Door

[CanadienneBacon]

[section]Picayune felt more secure once was away from Joe. But then he realized something. Joe was looking at him. And so was Shard. "Waitaminnit. Say whaaaat?! How'd you do dat? You know Voo Doo?". Picayune couldn't help the curiosity burbling in his breast. [/section]

 

[Unsung]

Joe watches the modron as it walks around him for another lap. He holds up one hand and points down with a hooked finger. He grins. "Heh heh. Live one, here. This really takes me back. Summer of Love, you know?"

He looks off into the empty air. "Yeah, uh, sort of, Picayune. Just the kind of thing you pick up around these parts, you know? I mean, I'm actually a Buddhist. Or, I mean, I was. Kind of. Technically. At one point. Lapsed, now. So what I do, it's not exactly... Well. Anyway. I dabble."

 

[Pembinasa]

Dwarf, forge, Guildhall ward. Dwarf, forge, Guildhall ward. From that weird Traladuchy where the hicks and vampires live. Would be REALLY nice to have something to write upon right now, but it's currently head-shaped and would whine at me for it...

OH. Riiiiiiight.

Shandrizar! For the sake of clarity, how much of my thoughts did you just hear? And while I'm at it, are you capable of taking dictation within yourself? I'm uncertain as to your capabilities so far, given the fairly unique circumstances. Oh, and there's another thing I mean to ask you in a moment; get the Detect Magic spell ready, would you?

Refusing to let his thoughts flicker over his face, he just gave a smile and took a real sip this time; pretty good ale, he'll take both tankards. "That's still a sight more knowledge than I had walking into this tavern, and I'll thank you for sharing what you did. If there's something I can do for you another time, I'd be glad to know what it is; hope to talk to you later, Barstle."

Graydon took his drinks away toward the table where the rest were gawking at some little fellow in a hideously garish shirt; this looked interesting. And where one of the tankards was, not one but three silver pieces were glinting on the bartop. Generosity deserves generosity, right?

 

[Queenie]

"Oh!" A distasteful look crossed Lili's face, a look that was very much out of place on the beautiful fairy. "Mr. Wizard you must have visited my lands than, and seen those horrible hags. You are lucky you escaped, for they certainly are wicked witches! Horrible, loathsome creatures." Her tiny shoulders shuddered. "Where is this Oz you speak of?"

 

[Shayuri]

Revelation bursts in on Shard, leaving her somehow even more speechless than the disembodied music had. Could one have negative speech...a sort of speech-debt that would have to be repaid in kind one day? And the strangest thing was how familiar it felt. The hollow longing it kindled inside her. Had she once seen more, known more? Could she again?

Was this man the key to that?

As Shard went to the table where Joe treated with Picayune, she looked up at the floating spirit and nodded cautiously at him...a recognition that he was there. Her eyes quite clearly focused on his face.

Then she looked at Joe.

"That thing you did just now, the opening. I've seen things like it before, but I can't quite...remember. Will you tell me where you learned it? And..." She touched the crystal poking out of her forehead. "...I'm looking for more things that look like this. I'm not sure where to start. Have you seen anything like it before?"

 

[Unsung]

Joe looks blankly at Liliana for a moment, then laughs. "Oz, well. Just take the mid-morning twister out of Topeka, I guess, and, uh, straight on 'til morning, little lady."

He looks at the eponymous shard embedded in the priestess's forehead with an expression of faint discomfort. He hesitates. "Lot of questions, all of you." His bedside manner could use a little work. "Not sure I've seen a jewel like that," he concedes, trying to sound casual about it. "I'd need to think about it. I've seen a lot, experienced a lot, in the past few years. Sometimes all of it in a row, not a lot of time to reflect back on it after the fact. Eventually I started writing it down, to keep it all straight, you know, a journal. And that worked at first, but... Well, might be easier to just show you."

 

[CanadienneBacon]

[section]Picayune felt like the bottom of his world had dropped out. He listened to Joe affect a casual tone, but felt agitation stirring in his heart like a shake-and-bake soda bottle of methamphetamine cooking in a Wal-Mart bathroom. It wasn't long before words and spittle came burbling out of his mouth. "Hold up, brother. Home. You know, dat place we call earth. How.do.we.get.there? If you know, spit it out, man." [/section]

 

[Unsung]

"Yeah, well, here I was, sort of hoping you'd be the one to tell me, man." Joe smiles wanly. "I could get back there, get us both back there-- if only I knew where there was. The trick of it, the real trick, is knowing where to start looking." He reaches up and scrubs his face and eyes with both hands, sighing deeply. "'Cause it's a noodle in a haystack before you know that."

 

[Quickleaf]

Shandrizar cocks his papery brow at "Hawaiian Joe." Judging by how others responded to him, perhaps the old mage was under some kind of seeming or relativity spell. Of course, that Shandrizar the All-Seeing could not invoke his nearly eponymous spell was irritating, doubly so when the telepathic musing of his "owner" echoed in his mind.

Telepathically, to Graydon:

I heard quite enough of your thoughts, but I'm certain you'll have more, young illusionist. And the one you're thinking of is Traban's Forge I believe.

I... Yes I am perfectly capable of writing within myself. However, as I'm certain they taught you, spells you would need to scribe by your own hand since the magic is in your personal understanding of each spell. Detect magic? Facile. Done.

By the by, what title do they use for an illusionist of your skill level in your homeland?Master Prestidigitator? Greater Trickster? Prismatic Prince?

 

[Queenie]

Liliana scrunches her eyebrows at the strange man, the gods only knew what he was talking about. She shrugs her shoulders at the confusing conversation, everyone is talking at the same time and there seems to be parts of the conversation missing. She pulls a small acorn out of her backpack, where she siphons off some sort of wine into her small cup. She gathers her crumb, a tiny piece of cheese and her acorn and sits on a napkin, her own little feast of a picnic where she keeps a suspicious eye on the goings on around her.