For the Greater Good

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

[OOC - Yes, you can swap out some stuff for components, I don't mind.]

*When Nessa opens the golden ball (it twists into two different halves), she sees a small golden frog looking at her. It ribbits, but it sounds more like the chime of bells than an actual frog sound.*

 

[Jaik]

Darren thinks for a moment, then his eyes turn red and his lips take on an unsettling sneer. "I think it owrked like this here, see. Me and my winged friend here been running about with the big lout on the horse over there, when what do we come across, but this bunch of holier-than-thou types wiping a forest glen with a few innocent demons and their loyal undead servants. The goody-goodies won, but not without weakening, making it easy for us to swoop in and capture them. I'm sure someone around here would be willing to part with a little coin for them..." Darren winks and rubs his thumb across the pads of his index and middle fingers, an underclass sign for money. He leers at the stunned group, then suddenly straightens. His eyes clear and his sneer becomes a sad little smile. "I'm sure the tale has happened before and should be believable...sadly."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Sir Staeven considers this for a minute.*

"That would work. Nessa, perhaps if you can work your illusions on Aerofax instead of yourself. And I should probably act as if I'm wounded, as I am a bit... visible. A moment," he says. He takes a spare cloak out of his pack and rips off several ragged strips. Taking his dagger, he nicks his wrist and puts some substantial stains on them, then wraps them around his middle and upper arm. Removing the most spectacular of his armor, as well as his beloved cloak, he puts his ragged cloak over his mithril arm. Then he smudges his face with dirt and blood and adopts a slump in his saddle.

"How about this? It would probably be better if I were bound and perhaps in... the 'prison wagon,'" he suggests. "Or maybe if you pretend that Aerofax was my mount, then she could also be a prisoner. Sebation could ride one of the other horses and be less conspicuous."

 

[KaintheSeeker]

Lyssia smiles at the frog when Nessa opens it. "I would like the arrowheads if we can spare them." she adds as she finishes up cleaning her gear.

As she listens to the plan to try and pull a cleaver deception. "I think I can do something of that sort, though I an not sure that it would be so wise for me to do it in my real form. It could turn badly if one of my kin sees me, as I am quite well known these days as a 'fallen' clanswoman." grins at the wry hilartiy of being 'good' and 'fallen'. I do think it could work, if I were to be one of the 'dark warriors' since," her smile falters, "I've had some past experience at such things. As for how to handle the more conspicuously good among us, that I am not so sure how to do. Sir Staeven would have to be clearly incapacitatied, and maybe he could act and seem befuddled and drugged as well? I doubt any force could be seen to hold such a capable force of good for long without resorting to magic or drugs of some sort. " Pauses for a moment. "Perhaps we could weave illusions onto his bindings and chains to make them appear bespelled, AND to hide the fact that they aren't quite as tight as they seem. If we have such magics at our desposal I mean." smiles to Nessa.

 

[Jarval]

Nessa laughs as the frog is uncovered. She pets the small construct, before turning her attention back to the discussion.

"Much as I'd like to be of some help, illusion isn't really a great part of my repertoire. The spell I use to conceal my form can only be weaved upon the caster, and it truly alters the physical self rather than use an illusionary image." She explains to Staeven and Lyssia. "I think giving Aerofax the cover of a prisoner is our only real option.

"As for the arrowheads, if you want them Lyssia, then by all means take them. I'd be happier if nobody does anything the idol until I've had a better look at it first, however."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*The little frog hops out of the ball and lands on the back of Nessa's hand. It goes over to her fingers and begins to lift them up, and let them drop again, almost like a game. It is rather warm to the touch, and almost seems to be glowing slightly.*

 

[Jarval]

"Come on you, back in your box." Nessa says to the frog, ushering it back into the golden ball.

Once the groups is underway again, Nessa will take a seat in the wagon, using the time to identify several of the items recovered from the undead.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"Come on you, back in your box." Nessa says to the frog, ushering it back into the golden ball.

Once the groups is underway again, Nessa will take a seat in the wagon, using the time to identify several of the items recovered from the undead.

"I want to stay out, I've been stuck in there for a while!" the frog says in a piping soprano.

 

[KaintheSeeker]

Lyssia smiles at the little frog. "Indeed little one, it would seem quite some time." leans in a bit closer. "what sort of fellow are you?" she asks in her lilting accented voice as she looks him over curiously.

"I must confess I have not seen your like before or heard of such a beauty." Chuckles. "Are you some manner of creature made with magic to be a companion to a mage or such?"

 

[Lichtenhart]

*Norin walks alongside the wagons, his constant pace and regular breathe helping him enter a state of deep meditation. He gathers all the consciousness that isn't required to keep him walking and makes it blossom into a prayer. He enters the chambers in his soul that the glory of Heironeus filled with unwavering lightand feels the strong but gentle grip of the divinity over his heart. He completely opens his mind, letting all the little concerns he had about his mission evaporate in that reassuring warmth. He lets out a wave of sincere gratitude for the company of his new friends, as he hears Nessa's laughter from the wagon, for even a holy man can feel alone on his path. He offer his thanks to his god and all the many powers of good for giving Sebastian another chance, and prays that he may someday find the peace his soul longs for. His last thought is for Lyssia, for she has no place to call home, no shelter in the storm, and he humbly asks that she may find someone that will look upon her and see the hero rather than the demon, for many take a step into the path of light, but few keep struggling on it despite the contrary wind. Finally, opening his hands, he sets his prayer free to reach his god's evercaring ear, and relaxes his mind, restoring full consciousness on his senses. Looking at the sun, he reckons about an hour has passed.*