Dark Days in Sion - Act 2: Scene 2

[narayan]

Alic, Bax, Kryslogious, Malic, Ordechai, Wrenwil

Alic: Accepts the offered keg back from Kryslogious with hesitation. "Based on that endorsement I'm not sure I'm so thirsty anymore..." He jokes before swallowing a swig and grimacing. "Ugh! Foul! I almost wish I'd drowned in that river to avoid tasting this!" He curses, heaving the keg away from camp with a mighty throw so it cracks open and spills into the ground some distance away.

Malic: Shakes his head at his son.

Ordechai: "Apologies Malic I did not mean to pry into your past..."

Malic: "It almost does not seem fair to pry into yours than does it Ordechai?"

Ordechai: "I've lived this long learning to keep my secrets to myself. It's a matter of survival, not fairness. There's been very little fairness in my life." He mutters.

Malic: "Don't think of your secrets as a burden. They may be key to riding our land of a great evil."

Ordechai: Shrugs. "We shall see..." He says stepping back to his area of the camp to prepare his own cookfire.

Alic: Can't help but notice a couple kegs Ordechai offloaded from his hogs. "Eh Kryslogious, how about you go ask Ordechai for one of those kegs?" He asks pointing at them.

Malic: Shakes his head. "Leave him be son. We are asking enough of him already."

Alic: Looks offended. "I'll pay him fair value for it!"

Malic: "Wait until after our interrogation at least. If he's amenable to the idea than, I won't argue."

_______________________________________________


Meanwhile Wrenwil, reading deeper into the tome reveals markings of a strange wicked-looking scrawl. After a moment, you realize you recognize this infernal script from your youth in Chival when you glanced over the shoulder of an elderly priest attempting to translate evil texts from the cult of Herod. This realization frightens you, even though its beyond your ability to translate, because you remember being warned how such text is corrupting to any good soul who lays eyes on it!

[Wrenwil: Make a Will Save, DC 16] If you fail this save, the degree of corruption you'll suffer depends on how much lower your roll was from the difficulty number. A fumble on this saving throw (natural 1) would result in death or extreme madness so be ready to use a Build Point if necessary to avoid that.

_______________________________________________

[Kryslogious, Wrenwil: What do you do?]

 

[Shun001]

Kryslogious

Alic: Accepts the offered keg back from Kryslogious with hesitation. "Based on that endorsement I'm not sure I'm so thirsty anymore..." He jokes before swallowing a swig and grimacing. "Ugh! Foul! I almost wish I'd drowned in that river to avoid tasting this!" He curses, heaving the keg away from camp with a mighty throw so it cracks open and spills into the ground some distance away.

Malic: Shakes his head at his son.

Ordechai: "Apologies Malic I did not mean to pry into your past..."

Malic: "It almost does not seem fair to pry into yours than does it Ordechai?"

Ordechai: "I've lived this long learning to keep my secrets to myself. It's a matter of survival, not fairness. There's been very little fairness in my life." He mutters.

Malic: "Don't think of your secrets as a burden. They may be key to riding our land of a great evil."

Ordechai: Shrugs. "We shall see..." He says stepping back to his area of the camp to prepare his own cookfire.

Alic: Can't help but notice a couple kegs Ordechai offloaded from his hogs. "Eh Kryslogious, how about you go ask Ordechai for one of those kegs?" He asks pointing at them.

Malic: Shakes his head. "Leave him be son. We are asking enough of him already."

Alic: Looks offended. "I'll pay him fair value for it!"

Malic: "Wait until after our interrogation at least. If he's amenable to the idea than, I won't argue."

Kryslogious changes the jolly conversation piece with Alic to a more serious tone with Malic. "What great evil dwells in your land Malic? You see this is of great interest to me because I was summoned without the will of a user which means some other great scheme is afoot to call forth the need of an old hero."

Kryslogious awaits Malics response then adds "If it is any consolation we could look into my past as well, there may be a connection no matter how vague the correlation." It was this moment he remembered to ask. "By the way you two, there seems to be a popular migration in the opposite direction of our travels. Would you be able to add any insight as to why that is?"

Kryslogious feels uneasy. He stays alert if the situation at the camp turns end up.

 

[narayan]

Billanverthorne

Billanverthorne: Nodding to Khaled: "Good idea. I don't plan to sleep at all; plenty of time for sleep once we're inside the gates." Bill points to his eyes, "These things serve me very well in the dark. Tonight they will serve you and your caravan as well. I'd advise you to double the watch around the tents and wagons. I'm going to scout the perimeter of this whole area. That will only take me a few minutes, I don't intend to waste time. One quick sweep is all I need."

Bill unslings his bow, along with a single arrow, which he nocks gently, no pressure on the bowstring. He will walk the outer parameter of the entire gathering, facing outward into the darkness, avoiding looking toward the campfires; this is so that the other guards will recognize him as a guard, since he is making no attempt to hide, walking slowly, and facing out, away from the camp, i.e., acting like a guard. If he passes within gentle speaking distance of any other guards of other caravans, he will identify himself, and tell them to be extra cautious, saying he has a bad feeling about tonight. He does NOT stop to talk further, instead taking note of possible points of attack, and best positions to defend from, especially noting where the high ground and low ground of the surrounding terrain are.

Cabarda lies only a few hours walk from Mt. Azoa which looms over it night and day. The terrain around the town is hilly spotted with hardy shrubbery and gravely soil. It's farms are actually placed within the walls as further security against a siege. As you are within sight of the gates it doesn't seem like there should be much danger here, yet as the night air quickly cools and a breeze picks up you think you hear something... (Fate Pool Listen Check, DC 15: = 15, Success) ...the voice of a young woman calling out just out of earshot. For a few moments it fades, but returns with the breeze and this time you are sure it is the voice of your younger sister Celestia calling out to you by name!

Her voice appears to source from somewhere out in the nearby rocky hills, perhaps a hundred yards or so away? Though it is too early for the moon to rise and very dark.

[Billanverthorne: What do you do?]

 

[narayan]

Ania, Ersun

"For the love of…" he mumbles under his nose. He carefully begins to weave a spell hidden from their attention to disable him.
(Casting Colour Spray at the Half-Duergar)

[Knowledge: Local, 23, DC 13]
[Sleight of Hand: Colour Spray, 21]
[Initiative, just in case: 20]

Results of Knowledge Check_____________________________________________________

The Game of Bones​

You are plainly familiar with the game of bones. To play all that is needed is a bowl and a bag of knucklebones for each player. Obviously knucklebones of the same species (usually for whatever evil goblinoid race is most common in the area) should be used. The exact number of knucklebones each player holds per game should also be decided in advance. Each player should have already marked their own knucklebones with paint. To start the game players put one knucklebone in the bowl and covers it with a lid or a cloth. Someone reaches into the bowl in such a way they can't see what they're grabbing and removes one knucklebone. Whatever player that knucklebone belongs too can choose who goes first.

Whoever goes first declares a bet, places the coin (or whatever they are playing for) on the table along with a number of knucklebones they are risking for the bet. Other players can either match the bet and place an equal number of coin and bones up, or they can declare a challenge to the bet. Challenges take two forms, either by putting up less bones for the same amount of coin or a larger bet for an equal number of bones. Other players can either accept the challenge or forfeit the round. Each forfeit costs a player one knucklebone that gets put in a discard pile. If everyone forfeits, the player who made the challenge keeps all the bets.

Everyone who accepts the challenge remains in the round and places their bones in the bowl. The players each take a moment to shake the bowl to their liking and each one draws out one bone and places it in the bone pile. Whatever player has the most bones in the bone pile after all the players have drawn wins the round. If there is a tie, more bones can be drawn from the bowl until a winner for the round is chosen. Obviously in the case of a tie, the player who bet more bones to begin with has a significant advantage in a tie-breaker. If there are no bones left in the bowl to decide a tie-breaker, more bones can be added to the bowl but only insofar as the player has more bones left to add.

After the round is over, bones from the bone pile are added to the discard pile. Thus, those who bet lots of bones early may be disadvantaged with less bones available to bet on subsequent rounds. Players are usually not permitted to collect their bones and leave the game before the end of the game, but it is not uncommon for breaks in the action to be permitted between rounds.

Obviously whoever bets the most bones would have the best odds of winning a particular round, but there is no rule that says a player has to show everything they have to bet up front. Smart players may let other players bet more bones for smaller bets until their competition only has a few left before they put up a larger bet that the other players have to challenge to get a chance at. The best position you can have during the game is being challenged by another player willing to put up less bones for the same amount of coin.

After enough rounds are played for the majority of the bones to end up in the discard pile forcing the majority of the players to abstain, a new game can begin. Before the new game begins a player may attempt to banish someone from the game if they put two knucklebones in the discard. That banishment involves a vote. Everyone who agrees to banish that player has to place two bones into discard. If the vote isn't a majority, the one singled out to be banished has the right to banish another player of his choosing by placing two bones in the discard pile. His choice does not require a vote.

Considering how this game is usually played by thieves and thugs in shadowy places there is often a great deal of cheating involved. Sleight of hand obviously comes into play, but having a silent partner at the table can be very helpful as well.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

[Ersun: More to come for this post... if you want to change you declared action based on this knowledge you may.]

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

Billanverthorne... hears the voice of... his sister?!?

Billanverthorne: (Does this happen on my route around the encamped area? Or does it happen after I've made it back to my individual caravan's camp?)

(If it happens on-route: ) Bill will crouch, and jog swiftly (double move) and silently [Can I take 10?] [Roll in DDS1 Dice Room: 11, + Dex (3) = 14, so it's a moot point this time] back to the caravan, in a bee-line, ignoring any other guards he might pass en-route.

(If it happens after I'm already back: ) No matter if I'm already in camp, or I have to run back, basically, my intent is the same. I take up a partial-cover position near a wagon, and whisper tersely to the other guards: "Voices, beyond the edge of the camp. 100 yards. At the ready!"



Bill's Thoughts: Dammit, Bill, don't be a fool. How could she possibly be here? ... My hand... Going to need more salve soon... This is more foul magic. If that's my sister out there in the darkness, then I'm the king of Seillon. This has to be a trick... But how? Her voice... my name... Maybe I should try to get closer? STOP. STOP. STOP. Listen to yourself. You're a trained wizard's apprentice. It's a spell. Spell... Yeah, maybe. Yeah, gotta be. It's a spell.

At this point, Bill is watching INTENTLY for any movement out in the darkness, bow at the ready, no tension on the string. He is a statue, unmoving, watching, waiting... wondering... debating... Thoughts: Dammit, stay still, this has to be a trick. You're not going out there! ... Well, maybe in a minute or two...

 

[97mg]

Wrenwil

"Heinous hellscribe!" Wrenwil exclaimed, breaking the peace. He'd slammed the Tome shut and lurched back in terror as the scrawlings revealed themselves, a blood red stain still lingering on his mind. He'd got off lightly, and he knew it. Someone was looking out for him today. The old cleric had been fully absorbed in the pages, focused and determined. They had pulled him in deep, a tantalizing and irresistible challenge, ~just one more word, just one more line...~

Something pulled him away, back to the relative safety of camp.

Wrenwil stood there a moment dumbfounded, staring at his dilemma which was waiting, innocently, begging him to return.

"Enough," he mumbled to himself. It struck him that this Tome may well contain his own epitaph. He needed information... the knight... later.

For now Wren just wanted to recover, resettle his mind. He popped the book back safely into his pack and with shaking hands, made for a pouch. It was lifted to his nose, ~ooh so sweet, wine and pine and baccy so fine.~ With expert precision he rolled his treat before wandering to the campfire for a light. The tip glew red and hot as he inhaled, then he let the smoke slowly ooze out of his aging mouth and nose ~That's better.~

He told himself it was better, but it was mostly a lie, a game of self deceipt. Looking around camp, Wrenwil walked to Ordechai.

"Can I offer you a taste of Chivalran leaf my friend? I dare say you most probably need it."

It was Wrenwil who really needed it, but it would be rude not to ask.

[Saving Throw = 9 eek! Spent 1BP, rerolled 24]

 

[narayan]

Billanverthorne

Billanverthorne: (Does this happen on my route around the encamped area? Or does it happen after I've made it back to my individual caravan's camp?)

(If it happens on-route: ) Bill will crouch, and jog swiftly (double move) and silently [Can I take 10?] [Roll in DDS1 Dice Room: 11, + Dex (3) = 14, so it's a moot point this time] back to the caravan, in a bee-line, ignoring any other guards he might pass en-route.

(If it happens after I'm already back: ) No matter if I'm already in camp, or I have to run back, basically, my intent is the same. I take up a partial-cover position near a wagon, and whisper tersely to the other guards: "Voices, beyond the edge of the camp. 100 yards. At the ready!"

~ Dammit, Bill, don't be a fool. How could she possibly be here? ... My hand... Going to need more salve soon... This is more foul magic. If that's my sister out there in the darkness, then I'm the king of Seillon. This has to be a trick... But how? Her voice... my name... Maybe I should try to get closer? STOP. STOP. STOP. Listen to yourself. You're a trained wizard's apprentice. It's a spell. Spell... Yeah, maybe. Yeah, gotta be. It's a spell. ~

At this point, Bill is watching INTENTLY for any movement out in the darkness, bow at the ready, no tension on the string. He is a statue, unmoving, watching, waiting... wondering... debating... ~ Dammit, stay still, this has to be a trick. You're not going out there! ... Well, maybe in a minute or two... ~

You heard the voices on the outskirts of camp, not near your caravan. You make your way back to your caravan without incident and speak your warning to the other guards. Originally there were 6 guards, two per wagon (7 including yourself)... but since two fell in the Summaran hills there are now only 4 other guards besides yourself.

Khaled: Quickly readies a crossbow and moves near you. -Asks in a low voice- "What sort of voices did you hear?"

Meanwhile, other guards around camp may have noticed your caravan getting prepared for an attack... (Spot Check by Other guards, DC 14: = 12 guards notice) About half the other guards in camp notice your actions and start looking nervously out into the dark, asking each other whats going on? Two of them start to move over to your caravan, probably to ask the same question...

[Billanverthorne: What do you do?]

[Note: I changed your formatting in your quote to indicate how you are supposed to mark inner thoughts using " ~ " these symbols. Check out the Start Here! Thread ( http://www.enworld.org/forum/showthread.php?466446-Dark-Days-in-Sion-pbp-START-HERE! ) to see an example of the proper post formatting. No big deal, just fyi.]

 

[Tellerian Hawke]

Billanverthorne: At the ready!

Billanverthorne: [Quietly, to Khaled]: "Over there, as I was sweeping back toward the caravan, I heard voices in the darkness.[Bill points to the general area where he was] "They must have been using some sort of spell, because I heard my sister's voice, calling to me by name. I assure you, I am not crazed or delirious. I know what I heard; it was her voice. And she spoke my name. My sister is over a hundred leagues from here, in apprenticeship to an Elven wizard, bound to the confines of his tower during her time as his student. That's how I know this to be a trick. It's probably a spell, some sort of distraction, making me, its target, believe that I am hearing familiar voices.

~[Bill's mind, speaking in his dead father's voice] Son, you're forgetting that your sister is as impulsive as you are. What if she somehow followed you? Perhaps she thought you were in some sort of danger, after the fire? The same danger that killed me... You're strong, Bill. If it's a trick, you can handle a bandit or two. But you'd better go out there and double check! If it is your sister, and she gets hurt, it will be YOUR FAULT!~

[To Khaled]: "Be on your toes, I might come running back in a hurry. These creeps made it personal. No one impersonates my sister!"

Bill springs forward, running back (x4 move) to where he heard the voices originally. As he passes the two guards who were walking towards him, he mutters, "On your feet, boys, lots of crazies running around here tonight!"

Bill is running, but he is silent, intent on his objective; the only noises he makes are his labored breathing, and the pad of his boots in the gravel. Other than that, he is an enigma, moving quickly, ready to kill, bow at the ready, but characteristically, in the true fashion of a sniper, NO TENSION ON THE BOW STRING.

When Bill reaches the spot where he heard the voice, he stops for a moment, and scans the darkness, looking for movement, and listening for sounds. If he hears or sees nothing, he will remain still, hiding if he can. However, if he hears the voice again, he will stand up, ready for an ambush, and say, "Little star?" waiting for an answer.

~Let's just see if you are my sister, you little whelp. She hates the nickname I gave her. If I don't hear a complaint, I'm going to have your deceitful a$$ at the end of a rope, or under my heel!~

[See Dice Forum DDS 111 for rolls.]

[Run Silent = 12+3 = 15 Total Check]
[Hide = 8+3 = 11 Total Check]
[Spot = 12+4 = 16 Total Check]
[Listen = 6+4 = 10 Total Check]

 

[narayan]

Alic, Bax, Kryslogious, Malic, Ordechai, Wrenwil

Kryslogious: Changes the jolly conversation piece with Alic to a more serious tone with Malic. "What great evil dwells in your land Malic? You see this is of great interest to me because I was summoned without the will of a user which means some other great scheme is afoot to call forth the need of an old hero."

Malic: Looks at Kryslogious with very tired eyes. -Answers in a pained voice- "Great scheme indeed... I am old but I remember..."

Alic: Furrows his brows. "Remember what father?"

Malic: "...I remember what I saw... they insisted I was mistaken and when I insisted right back that I wasn't, they stripped me of my vestments and threw me out of Moradins temple! That great shame has stuck to our family name like a stain on our honor!"

Alic: Looks concerned."I don't give a damn what those others think!"

Malic: "Don't be naive Alic! What happened to me can just as easily happen to you, or one of your own sons someday. When that day comes they may ask you, as they asked me, the same question Kryslogious just asked. What great evil dwells in our lands?"

Alic: "And I would answer honestly as you did, as any honorable dwarf would!"

Malic: "Ah but therein is the trap! What you may believe as truth, and what the majority know as truth, aren't always the same thing. The majority usually holds their own truth's over the few, or the one..."

Alic: "I can hardly believe you would counsel me to lie?!"

Malic: "No not a lie, a deferment in judgement."

Alic opens his mouth to retort but Malic holds up his hand to stall him.

Malic: "Allow me to demonstrate before you argue..." He says turning his eyes back to Kryslogious. "The great evil I infer about is a secret network of merchants, smugglers, spies, assassins and thieves who undermine our good works. I believe they are motivated by dark powers to serve interests too cruel and evil to imagine! Many years ago I was tracking a very holy item into the tunnels and the dark beneath our mountain after it was stolen by thieves from our temple of Moradin."

"When I finally came upon the culprits I recognized them as young disciples of the temple who acted strangely, as if under a powerful mind-affecting spell. They were meeting with conspirators as part of a dark ceremony in progress. I surmised their intention to destroy the holy item as part of this ceremony. The others stood around a circle of runes and concealed their features beneath hooded cloaks, but they were clearly dwarves of some type."

"The hooded figures beckoned the lads forward towards the circle, which is when I noticed two of them also bore daggers! My blood chilled in my veins as I realized they also intended to sacrifice the lads! It was then I sprang from hiding and seized the one who carried the holy item. My touch must have broken his spell because he instantly came to his senses and joined me pleading with the other lad to step away and flee with us!"

"The other lad turned towards our voices, but remained still. None of the conspirators moved to stop us except to start chanting. Their circle of runes began to glow and a horrible, twisted demon appeared from smoke and shadow! The lad turned towards the circle, and only realized his own doom the instant the demon reached out and touched him. His screams were the last thing I heard as I bolted. I will forever be grateful for escaping to safety with the holy item and the other lad... but I have never stopped having nightmares about that dark place..." He sighs

"However I cannot be certain about what I saw, and will not condemn or blame anyone without the chance to collect necessary proof!" He adds with a voice raised in false conviction. "That is how you defer judgement my son, leave it in the hands of your superiors. not defying them as was my error..."

Kryslogious: "If it is any consolation we could look into my past as well, there may be a connection no matter how vague the correlation."

Malic: I can hardly imagine how there could be any connection, but I won't say its impossible. We'll have to talk more about it...

Kryslogious: It was this moment he remembered to ask. "By the way you two, there seems to be a popular migration in the opposite direction of our travels. Would you be able to add any insight as to why that is?"

Alic: Swallows, wide-eyed and eager to pause the discussion of the horrors his father spoke of. "We believe something must have happened in Masaeus, a very large trade city on the river which is the usual destination for those ships and riverboats. Masaeus, as is the rest of Vulkh, is ruled by a wicked winged race known as the Vul who sometimes hunt and feet upon the criminals among their own subjects. The town of Tabba that we are headed for is the southernmost part of their Kingdom. Someone there should have news to explain this exodus."

__________________________________________________________________________

"Heinous hellscribe!" Wrenwil exclaimed, breaking the peace. He'd slammed the Tome shut and lurched back in terror as the scrawlings revealed themselves, a blood red stain still lingering on his mind. He'd got off lightly, and he knew it. Someone was looking out for him today. The old cleric had been fully absorbed in the pages, focused and determined. They had pulled him in deep, a tantalizing and irresistible challenge, ~just one more word, just one more line...~

Something pulled him away, back to the relative safety of camp.

Wrenwil stood there a moment dumbfounded, staring at his dilemma which was waiting, innocently, begging him to return.

"Enough," he mumbled to himself. It struck him that this Tome may well contain his own epitaph. He needed information... the knight... later.

For now Wren just wanted to recover, resettle his mind. He popped the book back safely into his pack and with shaking hands, made for a pouch. It was lifted to his nose, ~ooh so sweet, wine and pine and baccy so fine.~ With expert precision he rolled his treat before wandering to the campfire for a light. The tip glew red and hot as he inhaled, then he let the smoke slowly ooze out of his aging mouth and nose ~That's better.~

He told himself it was better, but it was mostly a lie, a game of self deceipt. Looking around camp, Wrenwil walked to Ordechai.

"Can I offer you a taste of Chivalran leaf my friend? I dare say you most probably need it."

It was Wrenwil who really needed it, but it would be rude not to ask.

[Saving Throw = 9 eek! Spent 1BP, rerolled 24]

Ordechai: Accepts the offering and draws a few puffs with practiced skill. "Not bad, I could probably make a tidy profit from this tobacco. Tell me Wrenwil, have you heard of something called a Hooka? It is a curious device invented by Maharathans. Molasses and flavored tobacco are burned together which gives it a very sweet taste. But before you breathe it in the smoke is passed through water somehow which purifies it."



Ordechai: Waves his hand "Nevermind that, I forget I will soon be interrogated and I shouldn't waste my breath on such idle talk. The truth is I worry for you and your armored companion. Have you thought about what you will do if the dwarves decide to haul me back to Barossa for trial?"

 

[97mg]

Wrenwil

"A hooka? Indeed I recall the name from some old novel, but are yet to taste of one. Perhaps one day soon eh? I once met a girl with a similar name though."

Wrenwil winked at his friend and paused a moment, wondering if his mischievous joke might have made its way through.

"Don't fret good man, I have a feeling... that these two dwarves are likely to bend when they hear whatever truths you wish to impart. I expect that there are many folks, much much worse who might have caught you. These men seem fair and open to honest debate. Let us see, and know that I will do all in my power to see you alive and well. Death does not suit you Ordechai, which reminds me."

As the dwarf enjoyed his Chivalran puff, the old cleric knelt before Bax, and took his hand.

"They say bravery comes in the strangest of places. You fought well today and did your master proud. I also have a promise to keep."

[Wrenwil intends to cure 1HP damage on his broken knuckles.]