Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
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This product is 56 pages long and free. Cover, credits, intro and ToC take up 4 pages. I counted 17 pages of adds many of them for other Rite... [Read More]
Evocative City Sites Lorn's Entrepot (Abandoned Warehouse) by Rite Publishing. I was given this product for the purposes of this review. This product is 47 pages long. Cover, Credits, two pages of... [Read More]
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The Plane Below: Secrets of the Elemental Chaos is a 4e D&D product describing some of the different planes in the 4e Cosmology. The book is a typical hard bound book that Wizards of the Coast... [Read More]
Some good guesswork, but Martin doesn't have Arcane Mark, Ghost Sound or Change Self. The other spells you've listed are correct, and at this point in the story hour he has four other 1st level spells and one other 2nd level spell. Would you like to try again? :-)
Originally posted by nemmerle Um, but where is everybody? No one has said anything about the last session. . . .!
Well, what is there to say ? It's at these times that players sometimes realise that they have f*cked up !
However did they think they would walk back into town no questions asked ? Also, it's pretty obvious the alderman is shady at best, so I'm not surprised...
I am susprised, though, that all apart from Ratchis are so passive about it. Being respectful of the law is one thing, but when it's as obviously crooked as this, you try and resist... At least, I'm pretty sure my players would have tried harder...
How they are gonna get out of this without breaking the law is beyond me...
Martin sighed and went up to his room in the Golden Plough, and lay in bed considering his options.
Snapping awake, he gathered his clothing and brought them downstairs to be laundered. He then ate a light meal and went to sleep.
Osilem, 10th of Dek – 564 H.E.
Martin awoke very early the next day, before the sun had come up – and not feeling particularly hungry.
He simply sat around for a while and thought, while scratching Thomas, his familiar, under the chin.
After an hour or three spent poring over maps and journals, interspersed with bouts of staring off into the distance, he went downstairs to pick up his laundry and arrange for a bath. After cleaning and grooming himself, he headed over to the alderman's manor to speak with Silvestri. It was mid-morning.
Martin found the place to be very quiet. He rang the bell at the gat, and it took a good ten minutes before Bryce (the younger of the two guards/brothers) to come out.
"Morning, What can I do for you?"
Martin took a deep breath. Standing tall, he raised his chin slightly and looked the guard straight in the eye. "Good morning, Bryce," he said, his voice firm. "I wish to speak to Alderman Silvestri immediately."
As he spoke he brushed at a fold in his robe with one hand, subtly calling attention to the King's medallion.
"Heh," the replied looking Martin up and down. "I doubt he'll have time, what with his preparation for the hearing. But I will ask Dormast to inquire."
He allowed Martin to enter the gate and led him to the front hall. The doors beyond into the house proper were open, and the warmth of the large hearth in the chamber beyond feels good.
Martin the Green waited about fifteen minutes when Dormast came to retrieve him.
"The master will see you in the parlor," the butler said leading the way.
------
The desk against the far wall in the parlor was covered with some books and many scrolls. The alderman stood and smiled.
He turned to Dormast. "Bring us some tea and something to nibble on, Dormast, and be quick about it."
"Martin, good day," Silvestri said. "I pray you are finding your stay at the Golden Plough to be satisfactory."
Martin nodded. "Thank you, Alderman Silvestri," he replied, "my stay has been satisfactory. It must, however, be brief. I shall be leaving town at noon, and I shall require an escort. You will make two of your guardsmen available to me for the journey to Twelve Trolls and back."
The alderman looked at Martin with a raised eyebrow of incredulousness. "You presume to tell me what to do? Your own position in all of this is not exactly clear, so perhaps you should step lightly."
Martin blinked. "I am entirely aware of my position in this matter," Martin said. "I am the eyes and ears of His Majesty Brevelan III in the Alder-villages of Gothanius. And I have a great deal to report. You should appreciate this; your fellow Aldermen have spoken well of your intelligence and flexibility."
The alderman smiled again.
Martin's palms were already growing sweaty on his staff, but he carefully controlled his breathing.
"Please sit," the alderman suggested. "I will be unable to spare even one guard right now, let alone two, but perhaps in a few days, after the hearing and we know better the future of your companions, I may be able to spare two or even more."
Dormast brought in a tray of tea and biscuits.
"Ah," said Martin. He cast a brief glance at the butler, then continued. "I fear, Alderman, that you misunderstand the situation. They will not be tried here. It stands for His Majesty to determine their fate."
"That is for me to determine once I have heard the evidence. I still have jurisdiction over my lands and the people found within their bounds, at least last I checked. Perhaps, I will send them to 12 Trolls, perhaps it is too small a matter to bother the king with. We shall see."
The butler poured two cups of tea, bowed and left.
"Mister Silvestri. I have received clear and unambiguous instructions from the capital that His Majesty requires a service of these specific individuals. While he may not yet be aware of the situation here, he shall surely be made aware of it in my report. At that point, I am sure that he will take an interest in resolving the situation. And His Majesty's authority exceeds yours within this jurisdiction... at least, last I checked." Martin had to concentrate to keep his lip from quivering.
"Well, then if that is the case I suggest you delay your leaving and present your evidence at the hearing in two days time. Of course, no matter what happens - one of your companions, the half-breed, is still at large and wanted for assaulting the town guard - a very serious offense."
Martin shook his head. "The half-breed is hardly relevant here, as he is not in custody. As to the rest, I shall return from Twelve Trolls immediately after my audience with His Majesty. I would recommend that you suspend your hearing until the King has had the opportunity to determine what is to be done with them. I shall not force you to act one way or the other..." He shrugged. "His Majesty's authority only extends so far as the loyalty of his subjects. Isn't that so, Alderman?"
"Aye, But one must wonder at the loyalty of those who are not his subjects, and their agendas."
The alderman cleared his throat
"Go if you like, but you gain no escort from me at this time. The safety of Ogre's Bluff comes first, and with all the strange occurrences lately, I prefer to get all my ducks in a row and take my decisions one at a time. While your letter and seal oblige me to aid you, they do not oblige me at the expense of my original charge. I would suggest that instead you exercise some patience and common sense."
Martin shrugged again. "I understand your desire to assure your town's safety. I respect that. So I shall travel to Twelve Trolls alone. As to those you hold prisoner, I can only suggest that you show restraint until you have learned the will of your sovereign in this matter."
"One would almost assume that you do not trust me to be an impartial judge in this matter. Perhaps I should order you to remain in Ogre's Bluff so that I may hear your testimony, and so that I will also likely save your life from a reckless journey alone across the kingdom, when you can make it more safely in a few days time, and with my blessing."
After a long pause the alderman added, "But i will not do so."
Martin looked down at the tea and biscuits, and felt no desire to have any. He realized that he had skipped breakfast as well.
"Thank you, Alderman. I shall return in a few days' time. I trust that, in the interim, you will act appropriately. Good day," Martin’s face returns to his normal pinched and annoyed look.
"Fare well, I trust your sorcerous abilities will keep you safe on the road and help you find the way," The alderman said, and Martin nodded.
"I shall endeavor to protect myself, though I should be glad of the loan of a steady horse."
"When are you leaving?" the alderman asked.
"By noon if possible, though I am willing to wait a few hours, if necessary, to acquire a mount."
"Well, the only horse I can spare you just returned from a hurried trip to Summit at my behest. Perhaps if you can delay your departure until tomorrow mid-morning or noon at the latest. It is almost noon right now."
Martin smiled. "Thank you, Alderman. I shall depart as soon as the horse is fit to travel."
"I will have it brought to the inn tomorrow, by noon,” the alderman said.
Martin sighed. "Alderman Silvestri, I cannot brook any unnecessary delay. If you would be so kind, please have the horse brought to the inn this evening, so that it may be ready to bear me off tomorrow morning." He smiled again, thinly. "I shan't run the poor beast into the ground, I promise."
"I prefer to keep my horses in my own stables, thank you. One wonders whether they took any time to teach you to be thankful in that Academy of yours," He he seems really angry now. "The horse will be brought over at my convenience and that of my servants, not a moment sooner. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to finish preparing for the hearing."
"Very well," said Martin with a shrug. "As you will. Thank you for your hospitality, Alderman Silvestri. As to your... business... I hope it was worth it. Good day."
Martin turned and walked to the door. He was seen out by the butler who was waiting outside the door.
Martin headed back to the Golden Plough, and managed to make it a good thirty yards down the road before he started hyperventilating.
“Wow,” he thought. “The hyperventilating didn’t last so long this time.”
Back at the inn, Martin asked the innkeeper whether anyone in town might have a horse for sale, rent or trade.
"Could be," Wilson replied, laconically. "I'll send a boy around to inquire." After a long pause,
"How much you willing to pay?"
"That depends on the quality of the horse. I only want to travel to Twelve Trolls and back, so renting a horse would be best, if possible. I'll be in my room if you hear anything." Martin smiled, friendlily. "Thank you, Wilson."
"Tis nothing," the innkeeper replied. "Will you be having lunch in the common room or should I send something up?"
"No need," says Martin. "The Alderman already offered me food and drink. Most hospitable of him, really."
Wilson nodded and went back to his business
------------------
Martin went up to his room, and spent the afternoon looking over his maps and his journal and his spell book. He finally took the time to cast the Comprehend Languages he had prepared from his recently regained spellbook, and translate the names of places and features on his map that he had traced over in elven. Labels like “City of Ash”, “Dragon Spires of Death” and “Little Folk” piqued his interest.
The day waned. The shadows grew long, and still he felt no fatigue and not a bit of food or drink had passed his lips. He had been laying awake in bed for over an hour when he realized, Lacan’s Demise had kicked in! (113)
Martin leapt out of bed, relit a candle and sat to pour over his spells, maps and journals some more.
(113) DM’s Note:Lacan’s Demise is the name of the ring that eliminates all need for food and drink after it is worn for one full week, and as long as it remains on. It also grants a +4 enhancement bonus to Constitution from the moment it is put on.
Man, I read the last full post and just kept thinking, over and over, "the party is screwed this time." Not that they're doomed, but in a world like Nemm's, there will be ripples in the pond for quite some time over this particular rock throwing. Love the insertion of Jana's backstory, even if none of us quite get what happened yet.
I also loved the interlude - Martin is getting quite a lot of "spotlight" time of late, and I LOVE the fact that he's being forced to assume a leadership role. Martin's player is doing a great job portraying an introvert being forced to push his comfort zone. Kudos!
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Last edited by Pillars of Hercules; 14th April 2002 at 06:55 AM..
Haven't been by in a while to comment, but keeping up with each post. I also couldn't help but think, "They are getting deeper and deeper into the :):):):):)!"
Nice of you to drop by, I figured you had not been keeping up since I hadn't heard from you in so long.
Glad you are enjoying it. . . . And yes, this was the in midst of piling plot element upon plot element and realization upon danger and etc. . . etc. . . until the players' heads would be in danger of exploding..
I'll be posting another "Interlude" tonight. . .and then I'll start working on Session #28 - we just played session #32 yesterday afternoon. ..
That same evening, as Martin was poring over his books and maps, Ratchis was leaving Aze Nuquerna. He had arrived, tired, late the previous night. Taking a circuitous route back to the elven enclave, in case he was followed, but worrying about tracks as his boots made him trackless in snow. He had met up with Kwa in the wood and brought him to the elves.
Ratchis rested the whole next day, and then took off west into the woods long after the sun had gone down, waiting for the very still of the deep night. He did this to do some hunting, clear his mind and put some distance between himself and Ogre’s Bluff before going back and seeing what fate would befall his companions. He left Kwa behind, asking the elves to take care of him.
Ratchis went jogging over the tops of snow banks easily. It was the first time he remembered having "fun" since he left Nikar.
Moving through the shadows of the trees, he thought about Kwa whining as he left, and looked forward to a day when his canine companion could be trusted to accompany him.
Ratchis slowly rose in elevation, seeing a series of broad forest-covered plateaus, as he crossed a wide stream, frozen in many places. He took his time to hop from rock to slippery rock, and then continued onward.
By the time the Ra’s Glory began to climb in the east, he had reached a high enough elevation to see the entire forest by Ogre's Bluff below him, and the dark ridge of Greenreed Valley to the northeast.
Ratchis took note of the tell-tale sign of the droppings of wild goats, and he knew he should find them very soon, slightly higher up, where stubborn razor-sharp blades of tall grass poke up out of the deep snow and craggy rocks.
---
Several hours later, Ratchis came back down the steep snowy embankment dragging a large goat behind him to find a lower place where he could build a sheltered fire that would be less likely seen from below, but he stopped as the smell of death filled his nose.
At first he thought it was a dead animal, injured or old left behind by its flock, but as he stood upon a tall abutment of rock wrapped in the exposed withering roots of a gray leaf-less tree he looked down to see clear in the mid-morning light the upper portion of a humanoid corpse sticking out from snow and shrubs further below. It had brown fur and was dressed in the remains of studded leather armor. It had a face and muzzle like some kind of cat-like dog, or maybe a dog-like cat. It was a gnoll.
Stopping to listen, he hear nothing but the wind, and distant birds dipping in and out of view in tightly packed flocks of black specks in the trees below.
He crept down to the brush. The fur of the gnoll's face was still moist, wet with the froth of death. He appeared to have been impaled right through the chest, probably a long sword or bastard sword.
The smell down there was much stronger - too strong for just one gnoll that appeared to have died the night before.
Getting up, Ratchis craned his head around the side of the shrub, and now saw eight gnolls, or rather, their remains, scattered across the lower embankment. A cursory glance gave him the impression they surrounded someone and were all killed by sword blow, or by losing their balance and tumbling down the mountain headfirst.
Dropping the goat and carefully looking around the scene of the battle, Ratchis searched for some clue about there person or person who had done the slaying. He looked for a trail of blood leaving the scene, but found none. As far as Ratchis could tell only gnolls were wounded - or if the killer was wounded it was so lightly as to not leave a trail of blood in the snow.
He did find deep tracks in the direction of the small plateau he first found coming from the south east - they were lost in the battle area – but they moved towards a thick clump of trees three hundred yards or so to the northeast. Ratchis followed them, but they suddenly stopped way before reaching the trees (about 250 yards away) however, it is obvious that just before disappearing whomever made the booted tracks had begun running.
Ratchis could tell the gnolls came from somewhere further up the mountain, north of where he hunted the goat. He made his way back to the scene of the battle and decided to deal with the goat before investigating this further. He tied the thing by its rear legs to the barren tree and slit open its throat. The goat's blood splatters, still steaming, on the cold and snowy ground.
And then, tying off its neck, he made his way back down to the trees.
It was treacherously steep and icy, but between taking his time and his magic boots, he made it to the trees without falling once.
Within the area of tall firs, the brightness of the sun is muted by shadows cast southwestward, making looking for tracks more difficult, but Ratchis’ skill overcame the obstacle. After searching a bit, he found tracks similar to the gnolls' above, but deeper as if running from the edge of the wood back over its own tracks deeper in the wood.
The muddied track that went over itself over itself ended 20 feet in where, a five foot crater in the snow iwas followed by a third set of tracks that were hard to read because of all the collapsing snow about them. There Ratchis found the body of yet another gnoll, it's spine cut nearly in half by a sword blow. The bloody sword had been wiped clean with snow, and then 15' deeper into the woods he found the booted prints again, going even deeper. Ratchis looked around and then up at the sun. The killer was going north by northeast.
Following the track brought Ratchis deep into this area of trees, which was broader than he originally thought it was. He came to a narrow band of fir trees that seems to cut into a cleft in a tall rocky out-cropping.
Sneaking along, Ratchis spotted the tell-tale sign of smoke drifting up from around the corner of the cleft.
The rocky out cropping was close to 30' high and very steep, the far wall of the cleft seemed to be sheer, trees obscured the entrance to it.
The trees were too thick to look past, shielding the area within the cleft.
Ratchis decided to wait until perhaps the person in there moved on or fell asleep. He knew when the smoke thinned significantly he would get his chance.
After waiting about an hour the smoke began to thin. . .
Ratchis considered climbing a nearby tree just right of the cleft, but growing right against the stone itself, which he figured would give him the perfect view down into it. However, the snow and ice falling from the tree as he ascended would probably have given away his presence.
Waiting and listening just a little long, Ratchis finally gave in and getting down on his belly to crawl over to the trees, he immediately sank into the crunchy snow - realizing that in this position his enchanted boots did not function.
Face and hair full of ice, he shook it off his head, and got up on his hands and knees. Crawling on his belly in over a foot of snow was going to be loud and messy.
Sighing, he got up and squatted like a duck walk, dripping cold water from his natty hair and tried to quietly move over to the edge of the cleft, keeping behind a tree to minimize the chance of being seen.
Ratchis looked around from behind a tree. Just inside a small nook in the farther side of the cleft were the signs of a camp. A small fire had just burned itself out, and snow was pushed away from a ten-foot area near a small tree. Many more trees of varying sizes covered the back wall of the cleft, which went up to the top of the 40-foot incline like jagged stairs.
Duck walking some more to the right, Ratchis’ shifting weight crunching on the snow, he saw the cleft curved to his right, meeting at a narrow point that had what appear to be rough natural steps leading to the very top of the outcropping (where it was flanked by two small trees that look like they'd provide cover from the other side).
There appeared to be no one there.
Ratchis moved into the cleft and examined the fire. Obviously, it was left to burn out- but whomever lit it was very careful about where and how it was lit as to not endanger the nearby small trees.
Looking for tracks, Ratchis circled around the small camp a few times because it was all stamped down very well.
Finally, the half-orc noticed a depression in the snow on the embankment behind the camp that had the trees of varying sizes going up the side. The depression looked similar to the one had seen earlier before the gnoll body at the edge of the wood.
Ratchis looked up at the tree directly after the impression, as if by instinct. There he saw a lanky figure crouched in the limb of a tree twenty feet above. He wore green and white, and a shaggy cloak of dirty white fur. He pointed a nocked arrow in his short bow right down at the top of Ratchis’ head.
"Careful," he said in a soft, but confident voice, strands of brown hair wavering across his bright green eyes in the wind. There was the glint of a long sword wedged across his lap.
"In these huge tracts of wilderland, who would have thought we would be traveling in the same small area." Ratchis said, calmly and steadily looking back up at the man.
The man did not answer, and the arrow did not move from its mark.
Ratchis was silent, and simply returned the gaze.
"I can do this all day and all night, if I need to," the man said. He did not raise his voice, nor did it waver. "What are you doing sneaking up on me?"
"When I saw the gnolls I knew you would either be friend or foe and I wanted to find out which," Ratchis replied.
"The third choice being that I am neither," he said in a flat tone. "However, I will tell you that it is dangerous to travel alone in these parts."
"As a Friar of Nephthys, I tend to get one reaction or the other." As Ratchis said this he readied himself to get behind another tree for cover. He knew some might attacks to kill a Friar upon recognizing one.
"Sometimes one makes enemies by seeking them out," the man replied.
"I sought for the answer to a question. I may not get an answer but that doesn't stop the question from being asked. I have a goat here if you wish to eat with me, or I can go about my business," Ratchis changed tact.
"I recommend you take your goat and leave. This place is not safe, and soon enough something will be feeding on you if you tarry too long," he said ominously.
He never let the arrow have any slack in his bow.
Ratchis shrugged his shoulders. “Have it your way,” he said and backed away, and then turned and hustled off. He retrieved his goat, and then moved back eastward.
He found a shelter place over a mile away, beneath an old rotten tree that had snapped in half under the weight of ice and snow, and he cooked the goat, after taking strips of its hide to make leather straps. He then spent the afternoon hiking around the forest in circles and spirals, learning the general terrain, and checking for human or humanoid activity. He then went back to the old rotted tree and covered himself in a wool blanket and shook snow from the tree above on to himself. And there he slept, kept warm by his boots, and waiting for night to fall, and then he could slip into Ogre’s Bluff under cover of darkness.
By the way Finn's comment... “Wow, that’s some pretty heavy armor you got there,” Finn said, when he spied [Ratchis] leaving the shop. “I’d hate to fall off a boat in that stuff.” was perfect.
I will E-Mail for details
Last edited by MavrickWeirdo; 16th April 2002 at 04:11 AM..
GO MARTIN! Player of Martin, I salut your roleplaying!
__________________ <center><img src="http://www.artlair.com/icons/tests/cb_ed.jpg"><br>You are <b>Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth</b><br>A strange and fun loving kid. You are an expert computer hacker and have all the really important, meaningful dialog in the series .<br><a href="http://www.selectsmart.com/FREE/select.php3?client=cathryn">Which Cowboy Bebop Character Are You?</a></center>
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Um, but where is everybody? No one has said anything about the last session. . . .!
sorta lost the boards after they moved...
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