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Message: <blockquote data-quote="darkbard" data-source="post: 9567772" data-attributes="member: 1282">In the weird, green, alchemical light, PRITCHARD’s eye is drawn to the silver pin clasp of the spectral entity’s gray cloak. Once a Harper? The reputation–once pristine, that of noble defenders of the downtrodden against the various evil threats, magical and mundane, that threaten the Realms; now sullied by scandal and calumny–and insignia of that famous organization may once have been something of a guarded secret. But those social climbers who have made however-unconscious a study of the movers and shakers across the Realms recognize the signs when they are so brazenly presented. Does this Wraith act upon some atavistic instinct in defense of the weak? Can it be put to rest and its treasure claimed?[HR][/HR]Pritchard Spouts Lore to recall a tale of a Harper who may have fallen in Neverwinter under circumstances that led to such a transformation–and a way to put such a spirit to rest.SPOUT LOREWhen you consult your accumulated knowledge, roll +INT: on a 10+, the GM will tell you something interesting and useful about the topic at hand; on a 7-9, the GM will tell you something interesting—it’s on you to make it useful; either way the GM might ask, “How do you know this?” r5,5 +2 INT = 12. Interesting and useful, please and thank you![HR][/HR]TWYLL stares after the retreating Jax, in a momentary pause from her frantic slapping at the flames and cinders. Did he just … Turning, she spies Plinth’s body on the cobblestone street–more importantly the cloak that has fallen off his shoulders. Grabbing it, she throws it around herself hard, stifling any lingering embers. She begins to call out to Pritchard, looking back and intending to suggest he search the saddlebags before the captain’s horse takes off, then stops to stare again, this time at her companion. [HR][/HR]Twyll seizes the fleeting opportunity to use the late captain’s cloak to put out the flames from the Alchemist’s Fire. Removes Burning Tag[HR][/HR]What is he doing, staring at that thing? Turning back to face the wraith and the fresh body at her feet, she begins to puzzle in her head various alarm bells set off by her new acquaintance:<ul> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The burning at the ambush on the manor house grounds…</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The fact that Nimor Ironvice knows of and came looking for him…</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The secrets she can feel (almost see) in his face and eyes…</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The weird phosphorescence he seemed to give off as he chased off “Miles,” more than his make-up should warrant…</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The murmuring she heard in his voice before Jax suddenly attacked and finished off his sorely wounded superior…</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">The wraith … the fact that after her eyes met its a few moments ago, it seemed to look away, looking for something … or someone? Pritchard? </li> </ul>What the hell is he? Who the hell is he? Whatever the answers are, Pritchard Blackmantle bears watching.These thoughts dance and coalesce in her mind as she gives an impatient huff and looks around for light to ward off the wraith before the rest of the flames go out from Jax’s projectile weapon. There are still a few lingering embers on the cobblestones giving off a semblance of light. As she drops the singed and no longer necessary cloak, she hears clanging at her feet. The captain must have secreted a flare within it, for here it is, ready and waiting to be used … which she does without hesitation, thrusting its light between herself and the wraith, and not coincidentally protecting her strange companion as well.[HR][/HR]Twyll spends 1 Adventuring Gear to pull out and light a flare (fictionally, though, I hope it’s okay the way it appears! I feel that she, as a drow, would not likely need to carry such objects herself), 3 uses of Adventuring Gear.In order to quickly put out the flames spreading across her garb and get a lightsource up and running to hold back the encroaching dark, Twyll makes a Defy Danger (Dex) Move:DEFY DANGERWhen danger looms, the stakes are high, and you do something chancy, check if another move applies. If not, roll...... +DEX to employ speed, agility, or finesseOn a 10+, you pull it off as well as one could hope; on a 7-9, you can do it, but the GM will present a lesser success, a cost, or a consequence (and maybe a choice between them, or a chance to back down). r5,2+2 DEX = 9[HR][/HR]As his companion tamps out the alchemical flames and replaces their glow with some other, flaring source of light, PRITCHARD hastily grabs the coin purse and medic’s bag from Plinth’s fallen form. In this sudden bloom of light, the Wraith’s form has taken on a corporeal solidity, at least temporarily. Seeing its features more clearly now as a result, Pritchard has the greatest shock of the day, one remarkable for the number and gravity of shocks already. The Wraith is the spitting image of that nameless ancestor whose portrait hung above the hearth in his grandparents’ musty manor house in Waterdeep. There was some dark but nebulous story associated with the figure, whispered rumors about a noble stand during the pyroclasm that took Neverwinter, his remaining family’s shame at a sacrifice made moot … and a ruinous bargain made thereafter. That latter part intrigued Pritchard the most, the notion that extraplanar powers were ripe for negotiation. There! There was true power! Power beyond mortal limitation. As a youth, such stories had filled his head with desires, dark desires, at times, and ultimately set him upon his path of diabolism.“Hold!” he calls out. “In the name of Asmodeus, Lord of the Ninth, I adjure you!” Startled a bit by his own temerity, he steps back. “Creature, do you recognize the resemblance between us? Surely, we share heritage, share blood. More than that, there is the mark I bear on my breast, which marks me as compatriot. “This is no chance encounter. Perhaps fate, or the machinations of an infernal patron, have contrived for us to meet here. Though your name is forgotten to history, tales of your deeds linger on, as do you, powerless to redress the calamity that befell your charges.”</blockquote>

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