Lightning in a Bottle (RP)

Albert shows everyone the vial and makes a mental note of 'the Trapper of Dalhurst' when nodding to Ezme after the introduction. That name rang a bell. He had probably heard stories about this in his tavern, but there was no time to dwell on that right now.

Roald is completely in awe of the smoke/mist in the vial.
When it is passed to him he has to be nudged to pass it on to the next person.
How in Raynor's name is this possible
He has heard of magic before, but never seen it in this way. Performed by a devine intervention yes, performed by a human on his own... No.
He even forgets to introduce Ezme to the others.

Gronk sees the mixture of awe and uncertainty on everyone's faces, something he is used to seeing as a professional stage performer, and decides to continue with his work.

"For my next trick, I will make this mist-" he gestures to the mist thickening around them- "disperse with only the strength of my will. A moment of silence, if you please."

When the audience falls quiet, Gronk begins to concentate, eyes closed. After a long pause, he picks up a challace on the table and takes a large gulp. (The challace contains the quicksilver necessary for the ritual). As liquid fire courses through his body, he begins to glow a faint but perceptible light, and the space around him feels tense, as if magically charged.

With another flourish, the flaming bowl shoots higher than before, Gronk adds a new ritual vessel to the flames to contain new magic components. To this bowl, he adds a dash of quicksilver from the challace, and he begins a rhythmic chanting. The language is strange and cannot be understood, even by Gronk, but the sound is primal and feels like it resonates through the space and adds structure to the tension. After a few moments of chanting, Gronk picks up the ritual blade on the table, swishing it deftly from hand to hand in a form of ritual dance designed to honor the blade and the tradition surrounding it. All eyes are captivate on this man dancing and chanting in the fire light, when he lets out a scream louder than before. The knife glints as it slices through the darkness, leaving a short, jagged gash across Gronk's forearm. The blood that drips from this wound is collected in the ritual bowl for several moments before Gronk bandages his arm with a grimace.

"An offering to the spirit who will be my lovely assistant for this one," Gronk adds by way of explanation. In a booming voice, he intones, "Come forth, Obscurios, and be bound by my magic. Enjoy the feast that I have set for you, and lie in readiness for my command."

An eerie feeling creeps over the table and the nearby audience. The tension feels thicker, more sinister, as Gronk resumes his chant and dance as before. Within a minute, the scent of his blood fills the air, mingling with the smell of smoke and quicksilver. The fire grows continually higher, without any assistance from Gronk, until it threatens to engulf the whole table in flames. Gronk is sweating from the heat and the exertion, and his sweat falls into the ritual bowl as he works. At the height of the ritual fervor, an inhuman screach fills the area, mixing with Gronk's own shriek. The fire extinguishes, silence falls across the clearing, and Gronk lies motionless on the floor for a moment. After he recovers slightly, he raised his hands, still lying down, and says, "Ta-da...." His hands fall back and he rests for a minute.

Heck ya! I did it!!

On a hit the mist clears.
On a 7-9 choose 1, on a 10+ choose 2, on a 12+ all three:
· the effect lasts for a while, else the mist will be back before you can complete your task.
· the effect is far-reaching, else it is local to the party.
· it does not attract unwanted attention, else it does.

After a brief theatrical pause, Gronk stands up (hiding his wooziness) and bows.

"The mist is gone from this place. We should not see it for a while longer. It may still be elsewhere, but that is not our concern."

Gronk stops to think for a second. "Once the mist is gone, we may be able to find the Beasts that hide within." He looks around curiously, enticed by the thought of another sample.

Ezmaray is disturbed both by the mystic's methodology and by the spell's apparent effectiveness. Body tense and prepared for flight or fight, she looks around herself as the mist disperses, then straightens with undisguised shock at the sight of the girl beyond the bridge.

"Shireen??"

Had Richie TOLD his little sister where they'd fled to? The trapper's brow furrows into a concerned frown, her hand reaching out to warn the girl just before the young one disappeared into the mists.

"Frack!" the trapper curses under her breath. Without further ado, Ezme charges in pursuit of the little girl.

Ezme slows her pace a little to make sure she doesn't lose the girl's trail.

"Shireen?!" she calls. "It's Ezmaray... House Felder!"

I think Gronk will stay where he is and try to recover.

If Roald was shocked by the mist in the vial, the second part of the ritual really blows him of his feet. The fire, the chanting,... Gronk does know how to make a show, and Roald is taking it all in like a 4 year old.
He whispers to Albert from the corner of his mouth:
'' I don't like this Albert, it gives me the creeps... Ya think it's...evil? ''
Then the mist starts to clear and the silhouette of a girl emerges from it. Roald squints his eyes to get a better look at her but almost immediately she makes a sign and runs back into the mist.
''NO, don't!''
He stretches his arm as if to grab her and hold her back.
He hesitates, asking himself if he should go after her... But the mist... Just thinking about it makes his face itch.
Then Ezme storms into the mist too and he is both relieved and worried at the same time.
Under normal circumstances he would follow her without giving it a second thought but this evening has been too much already.
He walks to the edge of the mist and starts calling her name.

Ezmaray freezes momentarily in her tracks, head darting in the direction of the scream and the glowing light.

"Trackers don't get sidetracked." Her father's stony voice springs to mind. She snorts once through her nose, her eyes squinting, then turns back to the path before her. She wouldn't go stumbling into the evening mists in pursuit of some anonymous sound or light without even a trail to follow. That person, whoever they are, would have to fend for themselves. But Shireen -- she was just a kid.

"Stop, Shireen. Let me catch up to you," she calls a little softer now, keenly aware that dangers lurk in their midst.

Ezme will not leave the track. If it leads into the reeds, then she will quickly follow it there. Otherwise, she will ignore the voice. Something is odd here, and she doesn't fully trust her senses.

The trapper pulls out her hunting knife, gripping it tightly. Her eyes keep darting in the direction of any sounds she hears, on guard against attack, but honestly, she acknowledges that her stealth and her scouting skills are probably her greatest protection in this moment.