Altaruk, on the Sea of Silt (Dark Sun 4E IC)

[dave_o]

ALTARUK, ON THE SEA OF SILT...
Welcome! This is a campaign set in Dark Sun using 4th Edition Dungeons and Dragons. The tone is dark, gritty, and intense, like any good Dark Sun game. I hope you enjoy playing/reading! The vibe will be a little bit of Gygaxian players vs. DM mentality, but at heart I'm definitely a storyteller, and it's the story of your PCs -- so don't be shy in asking to make checks, suggesting ideas in the OOC thread, and so on. Good campaigns thrive off feedback!

While I've been a DM for over ten years, I've never run a module based campaign, until now...

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

• Ardie, Human Shaman 1, drothgery
• Jalim, Tiefling Sorcerer 1, Walking Dad
• Kai Tohimon, Human Monk/Ranger 1, halfrogman
• Marel, Half-Elf Ardent 1 (Inspiratorium)
• Printime, Human Psion 1, Shayuri

RAD LINKS
A Map of the Tablelands
Altaruk... on Obsidian Portal
OOC Thread

* * *

INTRODUCING RHOTAN VOR AND THE FAVOR TO HOUSE WAVIR...

Perhaps you saw the ragged caravans limping through the western gate, hiding beneath Altaruk’s protective walls, or maybe you heard about it through the proverbial grapevine, perhaps even seeing Rhotan Vor himself angrily dispatching pages to nail up posters —

“100 GOLDEN WAVIR DISCS, UPON RETURN TO CARGO OF SOME WINE, WOOD, AND GRAIN

report to House Wavir Trading Post morning of this First Day of Sorrow for sorting"

One of the hottest months of the year, beginning consequently, tomorrow. Usually how it goes with these things is the countless fools who turn up for the job are sorted into search parties, some descend into squabbling right away, others head the wrong direction, and occasionally one or two pull through — usually repeat offenders, professionals.

100 golden marks wasn’t that big of a purse, though — just the right size to try and snatch, it wouldn’t draw the bloodthirsty mercenaries a larger reward would.

Or perhaps you’re after something else? Favor with House Wavir? Keeping the cargo for yourself? Fetching a price on the black market?

ALTARUK, THE FIRST DAY OF SORROW

A sandstorm scours Altartuk on this, the First Day of Sorrow, the beginning of the hottest part of the Athas year. So, in this case, it is perhaps a mercy, the blowing grit diffusing the heat and light just enough, turning the day into a squinting, hot miasma instead of torture beneath the naked sun. Those making their way through the massive, heavily fortified gates are heavily bundled against the dust, a procession of suspicious eyes.

Each of you has one destination in mind -- House Wavir, and one hundred golden discs. Being the most influential house in Altaruk, a trading house specializing in grain, food, wood, wine, and other essentials, House Wavir keeps a palace in the direct center of the trading town. Winding through the denizens rising with the sun, you find your way to the palace.

A fresh faced young man awaits outside the palace gates, set off from the path a bit, flanked by two massive mul guards, all boiled leather and bone clubs, inviting no trouble. It becomes clear he is there to intercept would be applicants for the job, the muls there presumably to dissuade any foul play. With the simple question, "You're here for the caravan search?" you find yourself being sent along with a trickling stream of others, most just as wrapped against the dust as you.

Just within the walls of the palace you find yourself guided toward a dust yard, with several knots of figures standing around the edges. Another House Wavir official, equally guarded, stands in the center drawing polished stones from a stone cauldron. And soon, the point becomes clear: in the past House Wavir had dealt with bandits approaching under the guise of would be employees, the sorting process prevents applicants from having designs with a group beforehand.

Each of you finds in your hand, when the time comes, a chunk of bright blue stone. Common, but beautiful.

And now you find yourself waiting, having found your own edge of the yard, watching a trickle of applicants arrive, keeping your eyes for when another draws a blue stone, and gets pointed your direction.

[sblock=OOC]Welcome y'all! A little bit of an intro, your characters have arrived at House Wavir in Altaruk, and have been sorted into BLUE GROUP for the search ahead. As a refresher, the mission is to recover a shipment of grain, wood, and wine that was lost outside of Altaruk. And of course there's a sandstorm right now.

Feel free to spend some time introducing your character and roleplaying! I tried to set it up so y'all can really get introduced in whatever way you'd like. We will be introducing secret player six shortly...

A little bit of housekeeping -- post pretty much how you want, but try to keep it neat. Please include relevant stats for any actions you are performing, because the less time I spend looking up your stats and rules the more time I can spend writing posts for y'all.

It's up to you if your PC has done work like this for other trading houses before, or if this is all new and strange! Have fun!

And while I am running this stuff from modules, expect surprises...[/sblock]

 

[hafrogman]

It was just yesterday that Kai found himself standing in the marketplace, watching the man nail a parchment up to a wall. He stared at it blankly for a moment, running a hand through the stubble on his head. One of the old men in the village had been able to read, but there had always been more important things to do than learn such an esoteric skill. Now it seemed unnecessary. Word swept through Altaruk quickly enough, by that afternoon Kai had learned of House Wavir's situation. His hand drifted inside his tunic to rest on his coin purse. Even through the well worn leather, it was almost impossible to feel the few small bits and lead beads he had to his name. Times had been light lately.

Now the new day finds the young man drawn to House Wavir with others seeking to scratch together a few coins. The official's question receives a silent nod, and Kai enters into the yard and pulls his stone, cupping it in his hand. This much of the ritual is familiar enough, although younger than most here, this is not the first time Kai has found himself attempting these odd jobs for money. If his group actually succeeds in retrieving the cargo and the pay, well, THAT will be a first.

The first of the blue group, it seems, Kai finds himself an empty corner of the yard and hunkers down, as if by making himself smaller he can temper the day's oppressive heat and the stinging dust. He watches the rest of the candidates in silence, weighing each in his mind as he waits to see who he will be working with today.

 

[Inspiratorium]

Marel

Word of the task that House Wavir had proposed spread quickly. Even on the outskirts of town, Marel had heard of the summons. He needed the money. Trade was going slow, and he had meager coin left as it was. That's what he kept repeating to himself as he walked towards the trading post.

It was a nervous experience for him, returning to a more densely populated area after so long hiding away from large cities. He knew there would be hundreds of other prospective candidates looking to claim the reward, not to mention guards, House Wavir employees and representatives, bystanders, each of them with their separate errant emotions. He knew how they would whisper to him, how he would feel them emanating off of the clothing, the ground, the bodies. But he needed the money. Trade was going slow, and he had meager coin left as it was.

Events initially go just as Marel thought they would. The young man standing at the gates is answered with a muttered assent. The empath keeps his head down, trying to avoid eye contact with anybody if possible. As he joins the rest of the crowd waiting to draw his lot, Marel's anxiety starts to build. His brow furrows, and he rubs his temples with one hand. They were getting harder and harder to ignore. Eventually, after what seems an eternity, Marel retrieves his stone and quickly walks towards the corner set out for the blue group.

The half-elf finally raises his gaze to meet that of his soon-to-be ally, before again averting it. His expression has softened, but the signs of anxiety are still vaguely present. "Greetings,"he mutters, "I'm Marel."

 

[Walking Dad]

Jalim

A tall man hidden mostly in his wide bright clothes is the next to receive a blue stone. As he moves to the human and the half-elf, it becomes clear that his horns are not part of some helmet, that his skin is red and that he seems to have a tail...

---

Jalim wandered around without any target or direction. It were some day since the "misunderstanding" with his tribe and he will need money to satisfy his needs and allies to be less obvious. Preferably humans, as they seemed to be the most common folk around. One outsider with a group of more familiar types... this could work.
Knowing that he isn't good with making friends (drawing his power from the lifeforce of others isn't helping either), he has only one chance: Find a small group he can support with his powers without witnesses to gain their trust. He hopes the old explanation for his abilities will still work...

---

He reveals his face with the yellow pupil less eyes and pointed teeth: "Greetings, my name is Jalim."

 

[hafrogman]

Kai rises to his feet at the approach of the painfully shy swordsman. He quirks an eyebrow at the man's mannerisms, but before he can say anything they are joined by a third. Kai manages to avoid taking a step back, but only just. The wastes of Athas contain many strange creatures, but this . . . man? is certainly one of the stranger Kai has come across.

He runs his hand through the stubble on his head as he considers the two arrivals. He clears his throat to find his voice, disused of late, and taps his chest.

"Kai."

He nods at the other two.

"Marel, Jalim."

He puts his hand behind him to rest on his bow, and his eyes fall on Marel's sword before coming to rest on Jalim's robes and staff. What would these two bring to this endeavor, and who would be next to join their expedition?

 

[Walking Dad]

Jalim

Not good, the one with the bow, Kai, already seemed suspicious. Jalim should acquire a leather armor soon, less suspicious than robe and stave. But it will work with his psion impersonation. At least, both of them seemed to use weapons to fight. With some luck, there wouldn't be a psion in this group...

Jalim refrains from talking more. Should they come to their own, hopefully false, conclusions.

 

[Shayuri]

It seems in most every story, there is a point where the ordinary becomes convoluted. Where complexity enters, and ambiguity...when the ending becomes a twist, and what seemed self-evident becomes questionable. That moment can often be summarized thusly:

...and then a woman joined them.

She was not of the wastes, or of the unclean streets...this was almost painfully obvious. She was slim enough to make her average stature seem taller, with hints of a pleasing shape beneath a poncho she wore to ward off the dust. That shape was clad in a gown of all things, of shimmering white fabric that looked expensive and would probably be dull brown by the end of the hour. Her face was hidden behind a veil attached to a headband that wrapped around her forehead and temples tightly enough that even when the wind blew, the veil would not shift away from her eyes, though her nose and mouth were finely featured. Not a blemish or mark, not a crooked tooth, nor a slightly too big nose. She seemed like a statue carved by a master artist, come to improbable life. She seemed like someone who should have dropped dead the instant she set foot outside of some manor in the hills, or palatial townhouse in the heart of the city. She wasn't even bearing a weapon!

Then, to the dismay of Jalim, a voice crept into the heads of each one present. One they could 'hear' even over the wind, despite being quiet and polite. As she 'spoke,' the woman held out a hand, palm up, and opened her fingers to reveal a blue stone.

Hello. Please call me Prin. It seems we will be working together.

With the words came controlled emotions; a surprising warmth and friendliness. Though her face was concealed, Prin's 'smile' was clear in the message.

 

[drothgery]

Ardie, elf shaman 1 (elemental priest)

OOC: somehow my subscription for this thread didn't get set up right, and I didn't notice for a bit, but ...

Ardie closed her hand around the stone, and went to find her group. She'd done work like this sometimes, when the band passed through a town. It was usually a relatively simple way to gain coin as long as those hiring her thought they had just another elf -- and one who had not made the least effort to steal from them at that -- rather than a servant of the fire.

The others saw someone who, apart from her youth, was not atypical of an elf nomad. Taller than most human women, wearing armor that was a bright hodgepodge of leather made from whatever her band happened across, and carrying a bow staff on her back, the unobservant might easily miss the shaman's totem on her belt.

"Ardie." She said, obviously her name.

 

[Inspiratorium]

Marel

Marel looks up at Jalim as he arrives. As he and Kai introduces themselves, and his two companions' suspicions mount, the half-elf shrinks further back into the corner, his hand rising to his forehead. He didn't want to be caught between them, not here, not with so many around him.

However, when Prin arrives among them and 'speaks,' Marel looks up in surprise. Her voice, her emotions -- they were not of the entropic swirl of feeling surrounding her, they were refined, careful, almost comforting. For the few moments that they linger, the empath clings to them as comfort, almost able to forget their jumbled voices. As they leave, he realizes that he seems to be staring, almost incredulously, and averts his gaze. "Greetins, Prin. I'm known as Marel."

As Ardie joins them, he appears to have calmed slightly, and looks at her, offering even a brief smile before repeating his name.

 

[Walking Dad]

Jalim

"Jalim... and don't wander around in my thoughts Prin. You might be finding something that would disturb you."
Jalim almost curses in his mind, but his control is complete and his lying so adept, that even his thoughts send wrong information.