Character: Valna, half-elf barbarian
Player: Maggie
She knew her companions were also struggling to find sleep; Stumbleduck {aka Elyjobel} (Valna just couldn't get used to this new fancy name she wanted everyone to call her by) and Bigglesby were muttering to themselves, Travok was moving rocks around, and the others moved about restlessly in their bedrolls. The cave had caused a chill to creep into Valna's bones and she shivered. No matter. Valna had slept in worse places.
Primary Check - Endurance: 26
Since sleep was clearly not comimg easily, Valna replayed the day's battles in her mind. Especially the part where she rode Glitterstich to victory and plucked Travok from the dark water. That part was especially awesome. "Hey guys," she softly called to her companions. "I just want to say how impressed I am with the strength and power you all showed in the recent battle. It is clear that no foe can stand before us."
Secondary Check - Diplomacy: 33
Character: Elyjobel, gnome illusionist
Player: Mac
{Here's the second half of Mac's submission. As you will see, he ties right into the previous response AND tugs at the DMs heart-strings. Well played, sir, well played.}
Ely turned awkwardly in her bedroll, shifting until she faced the wall, trying to hide the effect that Valna's words had on her. She'd always looked up to the powerful woman, and in the light of Kismet's betrayal, when Ely realized she had to become tougher, stronger than the flighty illusionist she'd been all her childhood, there was an obvious choice for role model. Earlier that very day, while Valna and Bigglesby had been off exploring an offshoot, the rest of the party had fought swarms of spiders. Not only had Ely fought off the poison coursing through her system during that combat, but she slew many of the creepies herself. Slowly, she felt, she was starting to live up to the example Valna set. One day, she might even be strong enough to save her best friend from the darkness his uncle had forced into his life. For Kismet's sake, she tried to feel sympathy for his family. For her own sake, seeing the darkness Prismeus had willingly given himself over to infect her oldest companion... if she could, she'd let Prismeus's soul burn forever.
Thinking of her friend gave her an idea. One of the first illusions she learned was a spell named Ghost Sound, a little cantrip which allowed her to call sounds out of thin air. The spell itself was designed to be cast quickly in combat, and make a few simple, quick sounds, but perhaps she'd grown skillful enough to adapt it to current circumstances...
Worried that she might call up bad memories of the bard's betrayal, Ely nevertheless wove the patterns of energy, delving deep into her mind for an old, old memory... Excellence, Kismet's mother, had taken to bed with a fever. It truthfully was nothing more than a simple illness that anyone would shake off after a day's rest, but her son was only seven and, dutiful son he was, worried so for her health. He'd only recently started training in music, but he sat up with her all night as she twitched in fitful sleep, plucking at his harp a simple, soothing lullaby. As the hours passed, Excellence's fever finally broke, and she settled into deep, restful sleep her body needed.
Ely recalled that song now, the ingenuous strident plucking of a young boy holding a harp for the first time, and called the quiet notes into the air. She could not grant the true peace that a trained Bard's Song of Rest could gift, but perhaps this melody would remind her party of the many restful nights granted to them by their friend and Bard; maybe it would soften their hearts, let them see, as Ely did, that the tiefling did not truly betray them, he was a dear friend, a companion who had earned their implicit trust many times over, currently victim to terrible darkness. And maybe, just maybe, she could help settle fiery blood and stormy minds, and let everyone catch the restful sleep they so urgently needed to defeat the foul orcs.
Primary Check - Arcana: 32
Ely turned awkwardly in her bedroll, shifting until she faced the wall, trying to hide the effect that Valna's words had on her. She'd always looked up to the powerful woman, and in the light of Kismet's betrayal, when Ely realized she had to become tougher, stronger than the flighty illusionist she'd been all her childhood, there was an obvious choice for role model. Earlier that very day, while Valna and Bigglesby had been off exploring an offshoot, the rest of the party had fought swarms of spiders. Not only had Ely fought off the poison coursing through her system during that combat, but she slew many of the creepies herself. Slowly, she felt, she was starting to live up to the example Valna set. One day, she might even be strong enough to save her best friend from the darkness his uncle had forced into his life. For Kismet's sake, she tried to feel sympathy for his family. For her own sake, seeing the darkness Prismeus had willingly given himself over to infect her oldest companion... if she could, she'd let Prismeus's soul burn forever.
Thinking of her friend gave her an idea. One of the first illusions she learned was a spell named Ghost Sound, a little cantrip which allowed her to call sounds out of thin air. The spell itself was designed to be cast quickly in combat, and make a few simple, quick sounds, but perhaps she'd grown skillful enough to adapt it to current circumstances...
Worried that she might call up bad memories of the bard's betrayal, Ely nevertheless wove the patterns of energy, delving deep into her mind for an old, old memory... Excellence, Kismet's mother, had taken to bed with a fever. It truthfully was nothing more than a simple illness that anyone would shake off after a day's rest, but her son was only seven and, dutiful son he was, worried so for her health. He'd only recently started training in music, but he sat up with her all night as she twitched in fitful sleep, plucking at his harp a simple, soothing lullaby. As the hours passed, Excellence's fever finally broke, and she settled into deep, restful sleep her body needed.
Ely recalled that song now, the ingenuous strident plucking of a young boy holding a harp for the first time, and called the quiet notes into the air. She could not grant the true peace that a trained Bard's Song of Rest could gift, but perhaps this melody would remind her party of the many restful nights granted to them by their friend and Bard; maybe it would soften their hearts, let them see, as Ely did, that the tiefling did not truly betray them, he was a dear friend, a companion who had earned their implicit trust many times over, currently victim to terrible darkness. And maybe, just maybe, she could help settle fiery blood and stormy minds, and let everyone catch the restful sleep they so urgently needed to defeat the foul orcs.
Primary Check - Arcana: 32
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