The Psionicle: Animus' Quest

[GnomeWorks]

A few sidestreets down the main avenue, there seem to be several people mulling about.

Heading towards that direction, you see that there is indeed an open-air market there, similar to the one in Cara'nor. However, with it being such a late hour, there are much fewer people here than would be expected for a city so large. Many of them appear to be elves, though it's difficult to tell in this light.

As you arrive there, you feel the pangs of your wounds once more (Fort save: 3 + 5 = 8, failure), and your legs nearly give out from the loss of strength (3 strength damage).

 

[Creamsteak]

First off, Animus deactivates the psionic skin. Then Animus colapses onto the ground (more than likely). He then strains to remove his armor.

"Feh, what I wouldn't give for that quarterstaff to support myself... this is horrible... I'm going to die of this venom, or whenever they find me. It's not like it'll be hard to find someone that sticks out as bad as I imagine I do..."

Plan A:

He will then try and drag his armor into the nearest inn with him, and try and beg for a place to sleep. Failing that, he will try another inn or two before going to plan B.


Plan B:

In some sort of delirium and illness, Animus will try to see if he can't pawn his armor for a couple platinum coins. One or two would be enough. Maybe they'll take some pitty, but considering he can't even manage to carry it with his arms... he's in a bit of a bind. He will then go to one of the inns and offer his payment. If he can't get anyone to barter, he will go to plan C.

Plan C:

Drag self and armor into a dirty forsaken alleyway away from the lights of the city and pass out.

-sorry, that's all I've got for ideas at the moment.

 

[GnomeWorks]

You begin to take off your armor, having fallen under its weight. However, as you do, you feel the final traces of poison taking their toll on your system (Fort save: 7 + 5 = 12, failure), and you fall unconscious (3 strength damage) from lack of strength.

OoC: XP gained - 2480, from getting around the goblin and avoiding being found out by Ratheqar.

-----

Even in your unconsciousness, you get vague impressions of your surroundings. There is a voice, and then you are being half-dragged, half-carried somewhere. You stop moving after some time, and the sounds go away.

-----

You awaken. You are in a small bed, in a small room. There is a window here, just above the bed; looking out shows that you are a few floors above the street, quite close to where you had fallen unconscious.

The room you are in is quite bare, and not well-maintained in the least. There are cracks in the walls, though nothing that would threaten the structural integrity of the room; across the room there is a small table, with a single chair set at it. There is another window there, with a nice view of the marketplace below, which is now bustling with people. Your armor and other equipment is set in a pile next to the desk.

Judging by the amount of sunlight shining through the windows, you would guess that it is roughly mid-day.

There is a single door leading out of the room, a simple wooden one with no decoration. Even the handle is made of plain, rough-hewn wood. As you take in your surroundings, the door opens...

...and in steps a young elven woman. Your guess would be that, if she were human, she would be roughly 16 or 17. She has long black hair, tied back into a single ponytail; her eyes are a bright gray; a pair of silver earrings dangle from her ears; her complexion is slightly tan. She wears loose, rugged clothing, functional but nondescript; she also wears a black leather coat, which flows behind her as she shuts the door. You catch sight of a gun of some make tucked into her belt as she walks towards the bed.

"You're awake." She says simply, in a high-pitched voice. "I don't normally help drunkards, but... you seemed different, for some reason. For one, I've never seen a drunkard try to get out of armor before. It looked like you needed some help."

"Are you feeling well enough to stand?" She asks. "There is some hot soup in the other room at the table, it might do you well. Maybe you can tell me something about yourself, as well." She looks at you expectantly. "Or is it too soon for food?"

 

[Creamsteak]

(Well, looks like my mindlink power is useful today, definitely.)

Animus uses his Mindlink power to try and communicate. I'm working under the assumption that it's been less than a day (so no recovery of strength).

"To answer your question, no, I'm not feeling well enough to stand. If I could talk, I probably wouldn't be feeling well enough to manage that either. I can communicate with you like this, however, as I have adapted to a malady I developed years ago."

Animus takes a mental sigh, and considers a prayer.

"To answer your questions, I am completely paralyzed, by poison. The venom comes from an assassin who thought to finish me off. If you feel so inclined to dispose of me by finding these criminals and offering me up for some form of reward, I would not blame you."

"My given name I've long forgotten, but I am called Animus by those who know me. I have a psionic aptitude, in case you were unable to confirm this for yourself. I came to this city onboard a ship occupied by my enemies to infiltrate some forsaken hole in this city, that is undoubtedly well guarded, and free a girl of some importance to me. She is... someone who I lost a long time ago."

"I had a clear route of escape from the ship to this city, until a Goblin assassin either picked up my scent or heard my foot hit one of the tables. He came after me, and I attempted to defend myself, but without a weapon it wasn't easy. I was able to get around him, after he wounded me no less than three times, and then I fled down the city streets till I reached the marketplace. The accursed poison slowly weakened me. I hoped to stave off the venom a little longer, and perhaps procure a room, but before I knew it... well you know what happened next. The armor became too heavy and I tried to get it off, and that was when you found me."

"So, I'm not a drunkard. I have every reason to wish I was, it would have made life a bit less complicated and definitely less bloody. If you need to confirm my words, check my belt. There should be a tiny knife, too small for me to weild properly. That is one of the goblin assassin's knives. You should also be able to find three punctures in the armor. One in the leg, one in the chest, and one in the shoulder. Most drunks, I assume, don't go around stabbing themselves with knives."

 

[Creamsteak]

Updated Animus stats in the character thread as well.

 

[GnomeWorks]

The girl is quiet for a moment, then takes a seat in the chair.

"I thought the wounds were strange... and the dagger was so small... but..."

She shakes her head.

"I don't want to turn you in. I really doubt that doing so would help my situation at all... besides, I don't need money that badly." She smiles.

"That's quite the story, though." She says thoughtfully. "I mean... it all seems so... out there." She shrugs.

"I don't think you're going anywhere soon, though." She says, getting up from the chair. "If you can't stand now, and you had problems getting out of your armor... I'm no healer, but I don't think you'll be able to do anything until you recover. I have no idea how long that'll take, though."

"And since it sounds like you're being hunted - why else would an assassin try to take you out? - I think it's best that you stay here." She says, smiling. "It'll be hard for someone to find you here... I don't think anyone would think to look here, since I live alone."

"I'm Amaryllis, by the way." She says. "Gambler by trade."

 

[Creamsteak]

The girl is quiet for a moment, then takes a seat in the chair.

"I thought the wounds were strange... and the dagger was so small... but..."

She shakes her head.

"I don't want to turn you in. I really doubt that doing so would help my situation at all... besides, I don't need money that badly." She smiles.

"That's quite the story, though." She says thoughtfully. "I mean... it all seems so... out there." She shrugs.

"I don't think you're going anywhere soon, though." She says, getting up from the chair. "If you can't stand now, and you had problems getting out of your armor... I'm no healer, but I don't think you'll be able to do anything until you recover. I have no idea how long that'll take, though."

"And since it sounds like you're being hunted - why else would an assassin try to take you out? - I think it's best that you stay here." She says, smiling. "It'll be hard for someone to find you here... I don't think anyone would think to look here, since I live alone."

"I'm Amaryllis, by the way." She says. "Gambler by trade."

"A gambler? How quaint... well thank you for the bed. I hope my paralyzed body isn't too much of a burden. I promise I'll repay the debt, as soon as I'm able to."

 

[GnomeWorks]

"No need." Amaryllis shakes her head. "It's not too much..."

There is knocking on a door somewhere; it sounds like it's coming from beyond the door to the room you're in.

"Hold on." She says.

She heads to the other room, shutting the door behind her. However, it seems to be rather thin; you can hear a door open in the other room.

"Larkalth?" You hear Amaryllis' voice ask. The sound is slightly muffled, but you can make it out easily enough.

"Yes." You hear a familiar voice respond. "Just came to remind you that Baltin hasn't forgotten your game tonight. And that we will be watching."

"You know as well as I do that I don't cheat."

"I'm just the messenger." The familiar voice responds gruffly. "Just remember to watch your back." A pause. "Oh, by the way, where were you last night?"

"In the market, buying some food." Amaryllis says. "Why?"

"Nothing of consequence. I was looking for someone last night, and I have reason to believe he showed up in the market. Rumor had it that you picked someone up off the street... is that so?"

"No."

"Hmm... is that soup?" You hear footsteps, and the voice grows clearer. "Smells good."

"I'm glad you approve."

"Though I wonder why there are two bowls." The voice says. "That's somewhat odd for someone who lives alone, don't you think?"

"No." Amaryllis says. "I didn't have a pot big enough for it all, so I used two bowls to keep it in."

"I see." The voice says. It sounds closer, as though its source is just behind the door. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Amaryllis? We've come to know each other quite well since your father died and you took his place. I wouldn't want something this small to come between us."

"I'm not hiding anything, Larkalth." She says. "What would I have to gain? You and the others watch me like hawks. I know the rules."

"Well... in that case, I'll let you be. Just remember to not be late."

"I know."

"Then I'll be on my way." The voice says, and footsteps head back for the door. "Watch your back." The door in the other room shuts.

There is silence for a few moments, and then Amaryllis opens the door. "Sorry about that. Do you need anything? I have to go out for awhile... need to check on some things. I can bring your soup in for you, if you'd like."

 

[Creamsteak]

"Thank you. You don't have to do this."

Pausing for a second...

"I don't think I can get myself up to drink the soup yet. Soon though. A day at most. Bring the soup by the bed, I'll make a point to get to it as soon as I can."

 

[GnomeWorks]

She smiles. "Don't worry about it."

She heads into the other room, and returns carrying a bowl. It is filled with some kind of soup, and its smell fills the air. She then grabs the chair and drags it to the bed, and sets the bowl on it, making it easily within your reach.

"I'll be back late tonight." She says, and with that she heads out, shutting the door to your room behind her.