Summer/Autumn 1220, Chapter 3b: Vis Gathering

Iapetus expends a point of Confidence (I'll mark it on your character sheet) and neither he nor Lucia takes any fatigue this round.

Iapetus [url=[/url] an 8 on attack and a 5 on defense this round, for totals of 11 attack and 14 defense.

Lucia has a 10 on defense; Iapetus has 1 advantage, plus his weakening is 7; her resistance is 6. Iapetus' phantasm leaps forward and punches Lucia's squarely in the gut. The crowd goes WILD with cheering!

Lucia has a 24 attack; she has 10 advantage, +2 weakening, is 12; against Iapetus' 7 resistance, that's 5. Lucia will put a point of Confidence into bumping her attack by 3, to upgrade that from one to two Fatigue levels. As her tiny phantasm ripostes and delivers a one-two double punch against Iapetus', the crowd boos and jeers.

A walrus lobs a crab at Lucia, and while she staggers, she barely manages to hold onto her concentration.

Iapetus is definitely more than a little worn by the drain from the fight, his phantasm seeming a little wobbly (perhaps partly by it's Muto nature, but that can't be healthy). Still, the Tytalus's grin is broad as he continues the fight, trying to push his way past any of the more experienced maga's defenses.


Iapetus is Weary, which gives him -1 on all actions. That would be 8 attack and 13 defense for the Tytalus challenger!
Lucia is fresh, and has a 22 on attack and a 10 on defense.

Iapetus' attack is insufficient to penetrate Lucia's defense: as his phantasm lunges forward, it blows clear of Lucia's, and loses its shape temporarily as, instead of turning back to face the other phantasm, it merely re-forms facing the other direction.

Lucia's phantom surges towards the other, for a solid attack (11 weakening - 7 resistance = 4), knocking Iapetus' little ghost-construct back a bit. Iapetus is now Tired (-3 to all actions). The crowd boos and jeers ever more loudly.

Iapetus realizes that Lucia has been putting her best art into Attack and that her Defenses have been relatively weak-- just not quite as weak as his offense. This ain't his first rodeo, and he knows that very attractive, charismatic magi tend to have a natural aptitude for gaining the advantage (attack is +Pre), while very sharp, shrewd magi are good with defense (def is +Per); incredibly intelligent magi do more damage with only a small amount of advantage (weakening is +int) and very healthy magi are most resistant to taking damage (+Sta).

He then sizes up his opponent-- she is incredibly beautiful and has a way of moving that is simply entrancing; the only person he's ever met who was Lucia's equal in charisma is Isabelle d'Arras (they both have +5 Presence). Her build is rather slight, though; if she tried to run a mile she'd probably collapse in exhaustion before she got very far. And Jerbiton are known for selecting Gently Gifted apprentices, regardless of their intelligence; the house has a reputation for their wizards being not-so-smart compared to the rest of the order. (Most magi look for at least a +3 intelligence in anyone they're going to train; Jerbitons are thrilled if they find a Gently Gifted kid whose intelligence is non-negative.) Long story short, Iapetus has reasoned out that he would fare much better if he attacked with Muto and defended with Mentem.

Before Iapetus can adjust his strategy, the angry mob of faeries reaches its flashpoint, and surges forward. One walrus spits a stream of saltwater in Lucia's face, while a mermaid yanks the little maga by the hair, and a Spanish pirate grabs at her, tearing the sleeve off her dress. Lucia's phantasm pops out of existence as the maga loses concentration, leaving Iapetus the victor.

I will be closing this thread on Saturday, regardless of whether it's been resolved, so the saga can progress.

"Che terribli."

Attravere will seek to aid the Maga, though he is a bit intimidated by the walrus. Holding up his hands spread apart in a peaceful manner, palms out, Attravere wades toward the crowd surrounding Lucia.

He'll call out, "Iapetus is the victor! Hooray Iapetus! All should celebrate his victory!" while trying to get over to Lucia with the intent of warding off any lingering faeries by encouraging them to celebrate the victory rather than deride the defeated. And if he must, "Iapetus would never be an ungracious winner and I'm certain he would enjoy some good-natured festivities about now." and direct them to look to Iapetus for confirmation.

  • If things go well and the faeries dissipate, Attravere will tend to Lucia's wetness and clothing situation by offering his own shirt to cover her torn sleeve and await a reply. He is Italian afterall.
  • If things go sour and he's unable to reach the Maga or get the faeries to disperse, he'll turn to Iapetus, "They're quite enthralled by you, maybe you can get them to stop assaulting the maga?"

Iapetus will quickly react as the contest ends and the faeries surge forwards. In classic (predictable) style, he will begin calling out to the various assailants and insisting they cease. "This is not the proper way to treat a woman," he berates the pirate in particular in his native Spanish. If they do not back down, he will begin to pull them apart as best he can, and try to restore order.

Attravere and Iapetus make a dent in the mob, and as the crowd begins to dissipate (some to cheer for their victor, others are surly and grumbling) but there are a few still grabbing and punching at Lucia.

There is an earthshattering crack of thunder, and an enormous ball of lightning erupts from Lucia, roasting all the faeries within a pace of her. Her features are contorted in a mask of fury, and her hair stands up on end as she shakes herself off.

She accepts Attravere's proffered shirt, nodding gratefully.

Iapetus is very impressed by her power display, and will not do a good job of hiding it. Still, he shall thoroughly apologize for the behavior of the faeries in mistreating her during their duel.

Attravere takes time to look over Lucia's wounds if she will allow him (does she look to have actually taken any wounds? Or is it all fatigue-esque damage?). He is genuinely concerned for her well-being, both as a Maga and a lovely lady. He will offer to help with her condition (wounds/fatigue) as able.

"It seems that the test of Certamen was decided, though a bit surprisingly. I hope you won't hold its outcome against Iapetus or I." Attravere will remark, standing barechested beside her.

Presuming on the reputation of her clan that she would honor the challenge of Certamen, Attravere would further offer, "If you'd accept we would be honored to offer you escort back to your covenant."

"Never fear; I shall chalk up your happy accident to ignorance, rather than malice. I am quite capable of returning home myself, thank you." She hands Iapetus a crystal vial and steps delicately around the roasted faeries on her way out of the regio.

Once it is measured, you find that it is a whopping fourteen pawns of Imaginem.

Attravere turns to Iapetus and takes stock of the situation within the regio. Once he's certain Lucia has left he'll clap Iapetus on the shoulder, "Whew. She's a feisty one. I am glad things turned out well. You were most impressive, my friend."

(In particular, how are the other fae treating the exchange between Attravere/Iapetus/Lucia and their reaction to the fallen? Have they gone into revelry? Dispersed? Gathering to slaughter the two remaining magi mercilessly?)

If all is well he'll try to enjoy himself for a bit before things get a bit too chilly for him and he suggests they return to their covenant.

The faeries have no concept of death; the burnt and crumpled forms are already dissipating, and the faeries have taken to revelling around their champion and king!

The other human entrants were rather taken aback, and are clearing out.

After collecting the Imaginem vis, the intrepid pair have no problem collecting from the Herbam source. I will update the stocks thread accordingly.

Attravere and Iapetus both receive 5 bonus exp, which must be spent on something actively used in this thread. Additionally, Iapetus receives three Confidence points. It's good to be the king, and you totally whipped that... woman.