Eye of Profane Truth

[Nephtys]

"It is my hope that it will not be necessary to kill them, but if they place obstructions in our path then they are choosing their own fate. Indeed, I seek only the power to save them*, and time is not unimportant. Let us see who will oppose us, only then will we know who our enemies are."

*ooc: Lie.

ooc: But we have not decided who our foes are yet, so how could we search them out and kill them? Granted that my character is doubtlessly provoking the attention of a lot of powerful individuals if he goes trough with his plan, but their reactions will only cause them to reveal themselves to us. Since we haven't chosen sides yet there might well be appeals and offers from both factions for an alliance, and that would (after defeating those who attempt to attack us directly) give us a strong negotiating position.
My character wouldn't be opposed to taking power over the mortals, but he really doesn't strive for anything right now except the general goals of advancing himself and inflicting pain upon the world. At the moment he's just feeling his way around.
He holds no regard for human lives and would not hesitate to threaten or kill them to get his way. But his casual contempt is mostly a way to give them an impression of our vast superiority, to awe then into obediance without having to kill them.

 

[Albedo]

"If you want to make an impact then, maybe this will suit you." Cann turns to the guard, "Which way is it to the castle?".

OOC: I'm not arguing over your methods. I gave my characters in game opinions. Theres no point in discussing this OOC.

 

[Rkhet]

The guard frowns at Moreth and Cann. He has seen his share of drunks and madmen in the past, and now considers you among them. The crowd laughs and cheers at Moreth's speech, and it is obvious that he is not alone in his assessment.

Turning to Rhakzan, who seems like the sole voice of reason, he speaks, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know how it is. I've done a few stupid things myself, back when I was young. This is Vinecastle, obviously. Known for the Vinecastle Vintage. That's probably how you lot got so drunk in the first place."

"Tell'em bout the elves, Vince!" Says someone from the back of the crowd, which is growing. This brought some laughter from the onlookers.

Vince the guard chuckles. "Aye. We've got the finest elves in the land, too, if you've got the coins fer'em. Cuz we're right next door to the forest where they breed'em, see? You want food? A bed? An elf on it? Try the Trickster's Head. You go down that way, turn left, then head straight across. There's a bloody big sign. Tell'em Vince sent ya."

"You have some business with the nobs, you'll wanna head that way. Keep going down that road, 'til you see that big white thing. That's where the King and his paper-pushers are. Though you'll wanna sober up first, obviously, cuz they won't be so kind like ol' Vince."


/ooc: post something, pyrex.

 

[Albedo]

"If you want to make an impression, bodies speak better than boasts. What do you think, should I meander my way down to the castle and slaughter a noble or two to prove how valuable we are? I'm sure we'd get lots of offers after that."

 

[Nephtys]

Moreth's eyes widen incredulously at the derision of the commoners. Rage threatens to overtake him, before his mood suddenly changes again a split second later. "Indeed," he says, answering his brother, "Boasts prove nothing. So let us offer something more substantial." With a flourish he utters a brief incantation, places a jade circlet on his head and changes shape into a radiant angel. Smiling benevolently at the gathered crowd he answers them in an otherworldy voice, carrying the threat of sudden violence. "Do you still doubt me? Do you insist on testing my patience further?"
.
ooc: cast Shapechange => 30HD Solar

If he can't shapechange (for lack of knowlege about any creature, except humans, shadowy fish, gods and ethergaunts) he'll cast Blasphemy (excepting the squares inhabited by his siblings).

 

[Albedo]

Cann shakes his head as he walks down the road to the castle, "Still wasting your time with weaklings huh? Perhaps one day you will learn." He goes as far as the guards will allow him in an attempt to gain an audience with the king, but he really just wants to learn the location of the throne room.

 

[Albedo]

On his way to the castle, Cann is also going to cast foresight on himself.

 

[Pyrex]

/ooc: post something, pyrex.

OOC: I'll add an IC section to this post as soon as I catch up. Just as a general FYI, I can generally post once or more per day during the week, but I'll very rarely be able to post more than once over the weekend.

~IC~
For a time, again, there was peace. Then, again, there was pain, this time physical; her material form was being mistreated. Clawing her way back from the ignorant bliss of unconsiousness Lessa woke to find herself curled up on a rough cobblestone street; being roughly awakened by a city guard.

She sits up, taking a moment to survey the scene around here while listening to Moreth and Cann's "discussion" with the guard who awakened them.

She rises, a bit unsteady on her feet; the lingering, but quickly fading, warmth of the Perfect granting her a short reprieve from the cold.

"Keep going down that road, 'til you see that big white thing. That's where the King and his paper-pushers are..."

She turns to the guard, "King? Who is the king of this realm?"

 

[silentspace]

"Sure is a lovely town, Vinecastle," Rhakzan replies, yawning and stretching. "Thank you Vince, its lucky you found us first then!" He rises unsteadily to his feet, leaning against the soldier for support. "Ah, more questions!" he says as Lessa speaks.

 

[Rkhet]

Cann: you reach the King's residence, and notice that it is not a castle: it is a huge tower made out of some white material that shined in the sun. As you walk closer, you notice a steady stream of people, commoners, artisans and nobles alike going in and out of the tower.

You enter, and the guards at the door do not try to stop you. You feel heavy as all your equipment are disabled: the interior of the tower is covered in antimagic.

Looking around, you see that the inside of the tower is far larger than the outside. You are either in a non-space like a portable hole, or a demiplane. People are milling about and queuing at various tables, where clerks sign and stamp and scribble on various papers and forms. It is clear that this is the administrative centre of the kingdom.

The king is nowhere to be found, nor is there anything like a throne room.

/ooc: Nephtys: you can Shapechange into any form in the SRD. Anything else is subject to DM approval. You can't change into advanced monsters, nor can you change into anything with more than 25HD. I'll assume you changed into a normal solar.

Moreth: as you changed your form, half the crowd - including Vince - ran away in terror, screaming. Others fell to their knees in prayer. You notice that they, too, are terrified. The marketplace is in sudden riot as more and more people saw you.

Amidst all this chaos, a middle-aged man in fine clerical garb approaches you, a grim look on his face. He bows, then speaks:

"I greet you on behalf of the Church of the High Lord, master arcanist. I ask that you dismiss your spell. Impersonating a Legionnaire is a grave offense on imperial soil."

Lessa, Rhakzan: your questions fall on deaf ears, as a terrified Vince runs away.

/ooc: everyone has read my post in the ooc section, yes?