Czlaplon Quest

[Kasbak]

Charisma (d12):
1st = 6
2nd = 10
3rd = 11

Perception (2d6)
1st = 1 + 4 = 5
2nd = 5 + 5 = 10
3rd = 4 + 2 = 6

[TarlimanJoppos]

Isaac: The overweight human guy in the loud orange silk blouse is probably a Questor of Chorrolis, given the aura of greed and symbols of wealth. The slender human woman behind him, though, the one in the subtly understated gown, sipping a glass of wine and generally being a wallflower, has a carefully-crafted illusion wrapped around her. You'd have to make a Willpower test to see through it, but there's definitely a taller aura than her visual presentation would indicate. And then Mekhitar pokes you in the ribs. “You're staring. Either ask her to dance or move on. I said somber and glowering, not creepy.”

Alston: You're pretty sure the fat guy in the loud orange is carrying some kind of magic, probably Passion-based as it seems generalized, not focused on an item or a body part. You're diverted from this, however, by your efforts to be social, and by a fair number of people who want to talk with you. Kolbeinn gets some questions as well, and you have to help him with answering them, although the one overperfumed dowager, the one with the tiny trembling lapdog, calls Kolbeinn a poor dear and switches to really terrible Sperethiel. Her accent is all wrong, and her tird-level meanings are all over the place, when they even make sense. Kolbeinn does his best to be polite, mostly resorting to the nod-and-smile technique.

[arcomniflash]

I'll shift my hat down over my eyes. "Not my type, I'm afraid." I'll give him and extremely subtle nod. I won't stare at her, but hopefully I can drift away at some point and inform the others. For now I'll just turn around and quietly sip my drink at the bar as if embarrassed, that should cover my actions well enough. I'll be somber and glower at anyone who gets close, that shouldn't be hard for me.

[Kasbak]

I anticipated a lot of discussion being needed here, so I didn't plan to put too much effort in with scanning. We are aware of our followers, and it is much too soon for them to make a move now anyway. Best to remain passively observant and not do anything to tip them off. At least not until we have left port and their options to flee are more limited.

I'll do my best to live up to the social obligations here, try to stay interested and polite, but not let myself be monopolized. I'll also work very hard at not laughing with the feeble attempt at Sperethiel, though it should be easier as long as Kolbeinn can keep himself from faltering over it. I won't bother with trying to correct her directly, but where appropriate I will try to include a rephrasing of some of her statements using the correct form. I will go more for subtlety, and if there's anything that's just too awkward to say, I'll skip it.

[TarlimanJoppos]

Isaac: For the rest of the reception, the only person who approaches you is a young boy. "Mister?" he says tentatively. He points at your prosthetic hand. "Is that armor, or is that your real hand?" From somewhere behind him, you hear a startled gasp.

Alston: After a blessedly short few minutes, the elderly woman moves on, and tries to speak Trollic to Gudrun. She gets a raised eyebrow. "The greeting is pronounced vodarr," Gudrun tells her. "What you said was, I eat mice." The conversation comes to an abrupt end, kind of like a boat going over a waterfall, with an embarrassed and flustered dowager beating a hasty retreat amid a cloud of sniggering. Mekhitar has a quiet word with Gudrun, which ends with both of them looking dissatisfied. Kolbeinn allows himself a quiet chuckle. "Sun shines on stone," he says, just loud enough for you to hear, with a second-level meaning of a self-important force having no effect at all upon something that cannot even perceive it, and a third-level meaning that punningly suggests Mekhitar's intelligence might be a bit light, and that Gudrun might be a bit dense.

[arcomniflash]

I'll stare at the boy for a long moment with my one eye before stating flatly. "It's my hand." I'll remove the glove and flex the fingers for him a little bit. Of course, I won't expand upon that information, merely answering the boys question is enough for me, and likely his mother is already terrified that I'm going to bite his head off or something...yeah, I get that I haven't exactly made a great impression on these people but maybe it's better that way.

[Kasbak]

"Well, at least we can say that we're capable of showing more social grace than a troll Nethermancer." I'll reply quietly. Sort of like saying you can swim better than a rock, of course. Still, considering the language barrier and that neither of us are social adepts, I think we're doing fairly well.

I don't have any further major ambitions here, so for the most part I'll content myself with the conversations that come along until Mekhitar signals me for another Flame Arrow, if he does. I will try to speak with the Windling family on board if I get a chance, if for nothing else than to congratulate them on their children. Always an event to be celebrated with our race.

[TarlimanJoppos]

Isaac: The boy looks over your hand, awestruck, for a moment, before his mother arrives, out of breath and flustered, and falling all over herself to apologize to you and chastise her son. "But look!" the kid tries to tell her, pointing at your heand. "It's all made out of metal but it works like a real hand!" The woman flusters more over that and apologizes again for her son being rude and berates the kid for being rude and drags him away still fussing at him, while he tries to tell her about Bortar and the prosthetic clinic and she really doesn't want to hear it.

Garsevan sighs. "Grown-ups have no idea how to react to someone who's lost a bit and found a clever way to compensate for it. Children are so much more honest."

Alston: You don't have to make too much effort to find a chance to speak with the windling family. They come over to see you, a flurry of husband and wife and children, all talking at once as windlings tend to do. They're interested in who you are, and the Elven cultural thing you have going on, and have you ever been to the Striptrees, and were you part of the family that moved from Throal to the Promised Land, and tell you about how they think their eldest daughter might have adept potential and that's part of why they're on this cruise and could you maybe take her up on deck after the ship sails and see if maybe she has what it takes to be an Archer?

Everybody: The reception comes to an end. Mekhitar gathers the team in the center of the lounge, makes a brief speech about the cruise and its purpose, gets a laugh with a mock warning, and a cheer when he closes out telling everyone to be sure to be on deck tomorrow morning for casting off, as there might be a few surprises. He follows the rule "short is good, funny is good, short and funny is better", and gets the lot of you out of the lounge quickly and efficiently. Once you're all down the gangway, he stops for a moment.

"Could have been better, but could have been a lot worse. Good job, everybody. Isaac, you and I need to talk with that woman and let her know that her boy's curiosity is not a bad thing. Gudrun, mice, really? I'd chastise you for correcting that horrible old woman but she so very deserved it, really." He makes a pained face. "Some people just shouldn't even try to speak Sperethiel. Alston, good job connecting with the windlings, make sure you have an audience before you let the girl try her hand at archery. Everybody, don't stay up too late, get some rest, we need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at dawn for the casting off. Be thinking about something flashy you can do for it. Alston, you've got more of those cheap arrows for the fire trick, right? I'll see you all in the morning!"

[Kasbak]

I've had much more limited exposure to my own race's culture than most, so it will be good to get some immersion while I have the chance. I'll answer a good lot of their questions, but will stop short for now on most of the explanation for my background and Elven influence. When asked, I'll reply "I am missing two things for telling that story; more time and a bigger audience." Best to leave it with an air of mystery and anticipation, get some buzz going on between passengers while they gossip and speculate.

As for their daughter, "I can't make any promises on what I'll find, of course, but I'm certainly willing to take a look. I'll have to see what our upcoming schedule is; I'll ask our attendant to bring a note to your room when I find out. How old is she, and what's her name?"

When the subject gets brought up at the debriefing, "I think it would be best if I at least speak to her first, get an idea of whether or not she has potential, and give her at least a few pointers to make sure she doesn't embarass herself in either case. That wouldn't be good for anyone." When the time comes to actually test her though, an audience wouldn't go amiss. If nothing else, it would be a distraction to test her at blocking out.

[arcomniflash]

I'll nod quietly to Mekhitar. "Fair enough, well, I'll be at your disposal whenever you want to go and talk with the woman." As for flashy things, I'm not terribly sure there's much I can do, mine is not a flashy discipline, after all, we're meant to hunt and destroy horrors, not dazzle them with special effects. Maybe some swordplay would go down well. They're right though, an early bed would be a good idea so we're awake for the casting off in the morning. However, there should be enough time left in the evening to get a karma ritual in. Haven't gotten enough of those lately.