caecgirl
Senior Member
roleplay here
BnB Nightmares
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- pathfinder 2e
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Amadeus Kharam trudged the street, his pack laden with supplies, little of which were in the way of food and drink. An eisel jutted awakwardly from the pack's primary compartment, and rolls of canvas waiting to be stretched onto a frame for use lay languidly beside it as easy bosom friends.
He was a thoroughly pitiable and unappealing-looking elf, his long, snow-white hair grayed by old grease, road dust, and a generally depressive air that clung to him like an unwanted familiar. His odor was similarly ripe with old sweat and labor with the additional reek of residual turpentine. His clothing, covered by a dull and off-white smock-frock, was pockmarked with the splatter of old stains from food, dirt, and most notably the lurid decor of multitudinous droplets of paint which lent him a further disorderly appearance. He was not exceptionally tall, and his gangly, wiry frame and stooped back gave way to the silhouette of an old, hunched scribe, though he bore no books that may hint at academia. Most peculiar of his features were his eyes, hued with a monochromatic, dulled lavender. Though his kind did not show many outward signs of aging, the weight of centuries that lay forgotten behind him were etched in the stress lines of his face, the myriad, small scars that crisscrossed his skin, and the flitting, wary glances he cast about his surroundings. His travel shoes, simple leather slip-ons that bared raw ankles under too-short trouser legs, were worn down and it would be any moment once the sole finally parted ways with the body.
Most striking, however, is that in spite of all of these traits that would have him be dismissed as another languishing artist with no home, a singular item hung at his side: a sword of beautiful make, sheathed inside a dusty scabbard. The blade was hidden, of course, but the details on the handle and pommel alone were exquisite in its mixture of elegance and simplicity, wrapped in leather stained sea green and secured with a chrome pommel that had been given a most bizarre cyan finish through some unknown flux in the crafting process.
He looked up at the manor that stood proudly in the distance. His last painting had depicted this scenic vista, though he had no prior knowledge of the location and had chosen a path by the whimsy of a shooting star in the night sky. Now he was here,and just in the nick of it for he was hungry, thirsty, and ached from the miles behind, the sun above, and the destination before him. He doubted he would have lasted a day more.
He was a thoroughly pitiable and unappealing-looking elf, his long, snow-white hair grayed by old grease, road dust, and a generally depressive air that clung to him like an unwanted familiar. His odor was similarly ripe with old sweat and labor with the additional reek of residual turpentine. His clothing, covered by a dull and off-white smock-frock, was pockmarked with the splatter of old stains from food, dirt, and most notably the lurid decor of multitudinous droplets of paint which lent him a further disorderly appearance. He was not exceptionally tall, and his gangly, wiry frame and stooped back gave way to the silhouette of an old, hunched scribe, though he bore no books that may hint at academia. Most peculiar of his features were his eyes, hued with a monochromatic, dulled lavender. Though his kind did not show many outward signs of aging, the weight of centuries that lay forgotten behind him were etched in the stress lines of his face, the myriad, small scars that crisscrossed his skin, and the flitting, wary glances he cast about his surroundings. His travel shoes, simple leather slip-ons that bared raw ankles under too-short trouser legs, were worn down and it would be any moment once the sole finally parted ways with the body.
Most striking, however, is that in spite of all of these traits that would have him be dismissed as another languishing artist with no home, a singular item hung at his side: a sword of beautiful make, sheathed inside a dusty scabbard. The blade was hidden, of course, but the details on the handle and pommel alone were exquisite in its mixture of elegance and simplicity, wrapped in leather stained sea green and secured with a chrome pommel that had been given a most bizarre cyan finish through some unknown flux in the crafting process.
He looked up at the manor that stood proudly in the distance. His last painting had depicted this scenic vista, though he had no prior knowledge of the location and had chosen a path by the whimsy of a shooting star in the night sky. Now he was here,and just in the nick of it for he was hungry, thirsty, and ached from the miles behind, the sun above, and the destination before him. He doubted he would have lasted a day more.
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SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
Aramis Balthazar glares at the manor in the distance, then checks a piece of paper in his hand. He'd traveled far, but he's sure it'll be worth it.
Error1
New Member
Deagan walks barefoot on the cobblestone as he approaches the Mansion carrying with him a sense of boundless ambition and a well seasoned frying pan. He mutters to himself as he fidgets at the threshold "I hope they haven't got a cook yet, well I'm sure they don't have a proper one"
Chrisse
New Member
A tall cloaked figure approached the mansion with an upbeat rhythm. Her reinforced boots hitting the ground with tempo providing her voice a good base to hum on her path.
While bearing a good note with her strong voice a pair of golden tails move along her steps, transforming a simple walk into an improvised show. Coupled with a sunny disposition and ever present smile this strong lady is something no one could miss:
"Uhm Uhm! Back on the land, doing my work. Just a lady ready to fight and with the will to risee"
She seemed optimistic about her new job.
While bearing a good note with her strong voice a pair of golden tails move along her steps, transforming a simple walk into an improvised show. Coupled with a sunny disposition and ever present smile this strong lady is something no one could miss:
"Uhm Uhm! Back on the land, doing my work. Just a lady ready to fight and with the will to risee"
She seemed optimistic about her new job.
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Hunger drives Kharam's senses, and his mind tugs to a sight: a halfling. A frying pan. Images of a warm hearth, fresh bread, and hospitable company fill his mind.
And he stood at the portal of his destination. An auspicious sign of converging destinies, fleeting as it may be in the advent of but a single shared meal.
He approaches the halfling, croaking, "Have you food that I may trade for?" in a voice that was disquietingly stilted, alien in its cadence, and more like brass than someone of his slight frame would suggest. Kharam clutches the straps of his pack, hoping to seem unthreatening despite the offputting nature of his presentation. His stomach wails, punctuating his sincerity.
Error1
New Member
Deagan turns and gives Kharam the most puzzling look, and shrugs " I guess if I wanted a life that made sense I wouldn't be here". He holds out three fingers "three copper, this was going to be my elevensies, but I don't mind making more".
Deagan reaches into a leather pouch and pulls two fist sized brown ice cubes and sticks them into a blackened clay bowl.
Closing his eyes and holding the oversized bowl with both hands, flames begin to dance around Deagan and the air around the bowl shimmers with heat.
Once satisfied, he breaks off a piece of hardtack and gently melts a chunk of cheese on it.
The air quickly cools and Deagan hands both items and then a wooden spoon to Kharam.
"It's a hare and allium stew, if you've never had quickfolk cooking you're in for a treat."
Deagan reaches into a leather pouch and pulls two fist sized brown ice cubes and sticks them into a blackened clay bowl.
Closing his eyes and holding the oversized bowl with both hands, flames begin to dance around Deagan and the air around the bowl shimmers with heat.
Once satisfied, he breaks off a piece of hardtack and gently melts a chunk of cheese on it.
The air quickly cools and Deagan hands both items and then a wooden spoon to Kharam.
"It's a hare and allium stew, if you've never had quickfolk cooking you're in for a treat."
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Kharam watches the halfling cook. The scent wafts into his nose, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. "I... believe I have. I cannot remember the event, but this aroma stirs something in me beyond mere appetite." His eye twitches with the strain of trying to remember, but at last, he relents in the futility of the endeavor and turns his attention to other, more immediately interesting affairs as he observes Deagan's liberal use of his powers. "You are possessed of strange capabilities. I see no eldritch gestures nor manifestations, and yet reality bends to your whim. How came you to possess this talent?"
He accepts the offered meal as he procures a single silver coin from a dusty pouch within his backpack. The clinking of other coins tells he isn't exactly poor off despite his weathered state.
He accepts the offered meal as he procures a single silver coin from a dusty pouch within his backpack. The clinking of other coins tells he isn't exactly poor off despite his weathered state.
Error1
New Member
Deagan takes the silver and hands back a small bundle of hardtack, nuts, half a sausage and some hard cheese.
"Sir you need to be more careful, if you run out of snacks, you will die" Deagan says with a concerned face.
"But as to how..." Deagan ponders the question "I don know, fire just started listening to me and the more I ask, the better I get at asking."
Deagan gets his pack in order and looks around.
"What brings you here anyhow? This BnB seems to have attracted all kinds of weirdos, ah... no offense intended sir".
"Sir you need to be more careful, if you run out of snacks, you will die" Deagan says with a concerned face.
"But as to how..." Deagan ponders the question "I don know, fire just started listening to me and the more I ask, the better I get at asking."
Deagan gets his pack in order and looks around.
"What brings you here anyhow? This BnB seems to have attracted all kinds of weirdos, ah... no offense intended sir".
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
"I am weird?" Kharam both affirms and questions. He looks at the manor and reaches into his pack to produce an oil painting. It is a panoramic view of the manor, almost an exact replica. The brushtrokes are fat and heavy as though afraid that they would cease to exist if they relented in the slightest. It was done in haste, and yet it wasn't unappealing. It could comfortably find a home in a dining room or parlor, perhaps in the halls of the subject matter itself.
"I saw it in waking dream. My hand moved of its own, portraying this vista though I believe I'd not seen its like before. A falling star streaked in the direction I was meant to go. The portents proclaim I am meant to be here," he says. "I seek purpose. Perhaps the purpose is here."
He then busies himself with eating. He uses tools, but the hunger has reduced him to poor manners, shoveling the stew like throwing logs at a furnace. He does, after the first few bites, take a moment to really savor the dish, before pausing and staring intensely at his provider with those sleepless, heavy-lidded eyes. "What are you called?"
"I saw it in waking dream. My hand moved of its own, portraying this vista though I believe I'd not seen its like before. A falling star streaked in the direction I was meant to go. The portents proclaim I am meant to be here," he says. "I seek purpose. Perhaps the purpose is here."
He then busies himself with eating. He uses tools, but the hunger has reduced him to poor manners, shoveling the stew like throwing logs at a furnace. He does, after the first few bites, take a moment to really savor the dish, before pausing and staring intensely at his provider with those sleepless, heavy-lidded eyes. "What are you called?"
Error1
New Member
"Name is Deagan, friends call me Dee on account of it being less syllables, and never having enough friends where their was a risk of using whole alphabet. I suppose there is a lot of things I've never heard of, for some following a dream painting must be perfectly ordinary." Deagan waits patiently for the perfectly ordinary elf to finish eating, and begins to organize ingredients for his next meal.
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Kharam looks disoriented, like he just spotted a fly buzzing by his face and is trying to track it. After a second or two, he gives up and refocuses on Deagan.
"I was given the name 'Amadeus Kharam'. 'Amadeus' means 'loved by god', though which god eludes me. 'Kharam' means 'sensitivity'. I am sensitive to the love of a god, it seems," Kharam explains, a wry smile on his lips, yet the confusion does not leave his eyes as he seems to still be thinking of something else. "I cannot remember when I took or was given the name, but it is mine. Of that, I know."
"I was given the name 'Amadeus Kharam'. 'Amadeus' means 'loved by god', though which god eludes me. 'Kharam' means 'sensitivity'. I am sensitive to the love of a god, it seems," Kharam explains, a wry smile on his lips, yet the confusion does not leave his eyes as he seems to still be thinking of something else. "I cannot remember when I took or was given the name, but it is mine. Of that, I know."
SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
While heading for the manor, Aramis spots a small light out of the corner of his eye. He tries to take a closer look, and spots a halfling and an elf. He moves in closer and sees the elf eating, as though famished, and the halfling taking food out of his pack.
"Greetings, fellow travelers, are ye heading for the BnB as well?"
"Greetings, fellow travelers, are ye heading for the BnB as well?"
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Error1
New Member
"yes yes sensitivity is good" Deagan does a poor job pretending to be interested.
He looks over at the approaching human and nods "I'm looking for work, I don't suppose you are one of those dream painters?"
He looks over at the approaching human and nods "I'm looking for work, I don't suppose you are one of those dream painters?"
SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
"Not at all" Aramis shakes his head "Never heard of those either way. I'm looking to make connections meself, and have a good time as well"
He sits down on a nearby rock
He sits down on a nearby rock
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Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Kharam takes the divergence in attention and the new arrival to focus on finishing his meal. His gaze wanders until it lands on the man's rapier. Kharam's eyes stay locked on it.
Kharam himself has his own sword, set to the side with the rest of his gear. The painting of the manor sat neglected against the wall, seeming of as little value to Kharam as a plank. He does not interject in the conversation, happy to let Deagan, "Black-hair", keep the as-yet unnamed man entranced as he studied the intricacies of the weapon.
Kharam himself has his own sword, set to the side with the rest of his gear. The painting of the manor sat neglected against the wall, seeming of as little value to Kharam as a plank. He does not interject in the conversation, happy to let Deagan, "Black-hair", keep the as-yet unnamed man entranced as he studied the intricacies of the weapon.
SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
"Oh, how could I forget to introduce myself, the name's Aramis" He offers his hand
Chrisse
New Member
The cloaked lady approaches the manor with her merry singing but suddenly stops when she notices the assortment of people outside of it.
Her steps are fast with a particularly strong rythm, as if everyone of her steps were accompanied by a drum.
"What do my eyes see? A little art appreciation picnic outside of the mansion were I was asked to come?"
She looks at the group and her eyes laser focus on the oil painting.
"Painted it recently and came to compare it with the real thing?" The question is thrown with a hint of vulpine interest.
Her steps are fast with a particularly strong rythm, as if everyone of her steps were accompanied by a drum.
"What do my eyes see? A little art appreciation picnic outside of the mansion were I was asked to come?"
She looks at the group and her eyes laser focus on the oil painting.
"Painted it recently and came to compare it with the real thing?" The question is thrown with a hint of vulpine interest.
Error1
New Member
Deagan shakes his hand, "pleasure meeting you mister Aramis, my elf friend here is a dream painter, I figured as all dream paintings I've ever seen are of the mansion it would be normal for you to be drawn here"
Deagan stands to his full height and reaches just above eye level with the sitting human and he begins to impatiently wait for the elf to finish eating.
Deagan stands to his full height and reaches just above eye level with the sitting human and he begins to impatiently wait for the elf to finish eating.
Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
Kharam regards the new arrival with neutrality. Her directness had drawn his focus to provide as full and honest an answer as he could. "It was painted...."
Here Kharam pauses and a slight flutter of his eyelids couples with the slightest suggestion of magical light from beneath them.
"...one month, two weeks, six days, five hours, twenty-three minutes and... now seven seconds ago."
Just as quickly the glow is gone and his face returns to its languid placidity. He gestures vaguely in the direction of the painting. "This is of a vision of this manor, which I never once have laid eyes on save by dreamt portent before this day. The painting itself is of no consequence to me any further, for it has served its purpose in granting me reference for direction. Perhaps I will offer it as a gift to this establishment, for I have come here seeking purpose and if it can provide me thus, it is the least offering I can compensate with gratitude."
He has also indeed finished eating and set the bowl aside with no further word, though his motion speaks to cautious reverence for Deagan's efforts and tools of trade.
Here Kharam pauses and a slight flutter of his eyelids couples with the slightest suggestion of magical light from beneath them.
"...one month, two weeks, six days, five hours, twenty-three minutes and... now seven seconds ago."
Just as quickly the glow is gone and his face returns to its languid placidity. He gestures vaguely in the direction of the painting. "This is of a vision of this manor, which I never once have laid eyes on save by dreamt portent before this day. The painting itself is of no consequence to me any further, for it has served its purpose in granting me reference for direction. Perhaps I will offer it as a gift to this establishment, for I have come here seeking purpose and if it can provide me thus, it is the least offering I can compensate with gratitude."
He has also indeed finished eating and set the bowl aside with no further word, though his motion speaks to cautious reverence for Deagan's efforts and tools of trade.
Chrisse
New Member
"Oh, a fascinating artist haunted by visions? Must be a life full of weird phrases and adventures. Huhuhu"
She laughs a bit at her own assumptions. Her grey tails moving along.
"What about you two? Were you stopped by this man? Or maybe you too are headed to this mansion for work related reasons?"
After a few seconds she stops herself.
"Ah yes, presentations. The name is Camilla, a pleasure!"
She laughs a bit at her own assumptions. Her grey tails moving along.
"What about you two? Were you stopped by this man? Or maybe you too are headed to this mansion for work related reasons?"
After a few seconds she stops herself.
"Ah yes, presentations. The name is Camilla, a pleasure!"
SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
"Pleasure to meet ye too, miss Camilla" Aramis takes a good look at the newcomer "I've come here more for leisure than what I assume these two, or ye, have. They simply caught me eye"
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Frostglare
Amadeus Kharam, The Pale Painter
"Amadeus Kharam, it--" Kharam cuts off further, remembering the disinterest Deagan had shown to his extrapolation. "It is my name."
Error1
New Member
"ah pleasure to meet you miss, I'm Degan just a simple cook" Degan's voice cracks and seems a little intimidated by Camilla
SuperNova_325
Panache Enjoyer
Aramis notices Deagan's voice crack
"Ye seem to be a bit intimidating to my friend here, miss. I am curious though, what kind of work brings ye here. Guarding, perhaps? or performing?"
"Ye seem to be a bit intimidating to my friend here, miss. I am curious though, what kind of work brings ye here. Guarding, perhaps? or performing?"
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