Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)


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Sagiro

Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
...and here's the update!


Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 202

After an expected second or two of uncomfortable interstitial travel, the Company emerges into a field of tall grass. Behind them stands the glowing blue curtain that would presumably take them back to the beast cave.

Almost directly overhead in a cloudless sky shines an enormous yellow sun, over five times bigger than the one they know from Charagan. Closer to the horizon is a second sun, somewhat smaller. One Certain Step doesn’t know whether to be overjoyed or horrified. Despite a slight breeze that agitates the grasses it’s as hot as a midsummer’s day back in Tal Hae.

As they look around and get their bearings, the Company sees that there are other portals here. There are eight in all, arrayed in roughly circular fashion in a ring about fifty feet in diameter. They vary slightly in size, with their widths ranging from 2’ to 5’, and their heights from 6’ to over 10’. Six of the portals, including the one through which they have just come, are the familiar blue color. The other two are a dullish gray, shimmering slightly.

Next to each of the blue portals is a crude wooden signpost. The signs themselves show images, not words. The air is clear enough that the sharper-eyed among the Company can make out even the more distant images. The sign for the portal through which they have just emerged shows a skull-and-crossbones, and two other signs show the same pictogram of warning. One sign on the far side has a red smear – it’s hard to make out any details from this distance. Another sign has an upside-down “V” painted on it. Finally there is a sign with an unclear yellow design – it could be a sheaf of wheat, or maybe a scimitar. Parked next to this last portal are three carts, strangely long and narrow with long flat beds. They are designed to be pulled by people rather than horses.

Kibi notes that the steady pulse of power through his body is still present in this new world, though it’s not as – well, not as pleasing as it was when he was surrounded by the dense stone of the beast caves.

Flicker and Dranko are eager to start exploring, but Morningstar urges the others not to pollute the area with thoughts until she’s had a chance to cast some thought captures. She sets out in a circuit of the portals, casting a thought capture at each one. Some distance behind her walks Kibi, not wanting to lose the benefits of Morningstar’s shield other. And behind the two of them comes Kay, scanning the ground for tracks.

Morningstar’s casts her first thought capture at the sign with the wheat/scimitar symbol. The thought: "I’m glad it’s not this hot on the other side!”. Kibi and Kay note that there are cart ruts coming out of that portal that match the wheels on the carts parked nearby. The ruts head off toward the center of the ring of portals.

Next to one of the skull-signs, Morningstar gathers the thought: “Yeah, that looks enough like a skull.”

Next to the first gray portal, she picks up a though of vague curiosity.

Next to the sign with the red smear (which upon closer examination turns out to be just that: a smear of red paint): ”I wonder how they figured out what to put on all these signs.”

Morningstar notes to the others at this point that she thinks the thoughts are all from different minds.

By the next sign with a skull-and-crossbones, she gets a frantic thought of someone who feels they have just escaped from something horrible.

“More or less horrible that what saw in our skull-portal?” Ernie wonders aloud.

Finally, by the sign with the inverted “V,” Morningstar gets the thought: “I’ll be glad to see Glaring Peak again.”

Behind Morningstar, Kay is plying her trade. She sniffs the air, and runs her fingers through some faint footprints in the hard ground. She looks closely at the signs, and picks bits of fabric and lint from some of the tall grass. The longer she stays at it, the deeper becomes her frown. Finally she turns to the group and says flatly:

“Orcs. These are all orcs. Some very recent, some old. All of them are orcish. Almost all of them simply go back and forth between the wheat-sign and the inverted-“V” sign, as do the cart ruts.”

She shows the Company what she found in the bottom of the carts – bits of grains, corn kernels, blades of grass.

“Let’s find the orcs, harm them, ask them what they know, and then finish harming them,” says Ernie. Step glares at him, not sure if the halfling is joking or not. The hot sun beats down on them as they stand and think.

“Is this all one big Black Circle experiment?” Morningstar muses.

There’s a few minutes of scattered speculation on that and related topics. Aravis is particularly curious about the gray portals, which aren’t glowing as brightly as the others. Dranko thinks they might be one-way doors. Ernie guesses they're for maintenance.

Kibi casts detect magic, and feels the now-expected surge of energy through his body as he casts. All of the portals detect as a complex miasma of magic types: Conjuration, with strong Enchantment and Necromancy, and even stronger Earth Magic of the sort that Kibi himself uses. The gray portals detect the same as the blue, but only about a tenth as strongly. (Kibi notes also that his detection spell lasts twice as long as he expected it would.)

The strong Earth Magic in the portals confuses and excites Kibi; the only other person he’s heard of that uses Earth Magic is Cranchus, but from a previous commune spell they know that no Archmage was still existent in this new reality.

“Remember though,” says Aravis. “Het Branoi might be immune to the remaking of the world. And keep in mind that whatever was going on in the Hets was so awful that the rest of the Black Circle wanted to destroy them and end their work. Maybe because they were using Earth Magic, and the rest of the Circle wanted nothing to do with that.”

“I want to find these orcs,” says Ernie. “Maybe they know something about what’s going on around here.”

“I want to know what those other skulls are marking,” says Aravis. Ernie blanches at the thought.

“Kay,” says Morningstar. “You say the orcs have been through here recently. How recently?”

“About two hours ago,” says Kay. “And before that, maybe six hours ago.”

“So there’s the plan, then,” says Grey Wolf. “We find a spot. We wait. We pounce. We ask many questions.”

There aren’t any good hiding places, unless they all want to duck down and just hide in the grass. So Aravis casts two rope tricks, one just above the entrances to each of the portals seemingly in use by the orcs. Kibi and Dranko each keep their heads sticking out of the extradimensional spaces, just enough to see when orcs come through.

After four hours of tense waiting and cramped muscles in the rope trick spaces, during which the large sun has been setting and the smaller one rising, the Company hears a commotion of creatures exiting the portal with the inverted “V” sign. Kibi and Dranko see eight orcs walking through the grass toward the opposite portal. The two in front are armored and wielding swords, while the other six are dressed in light clothing and carry farming implements. Another half-dozen orcs follow close on the heels of the first eight, making fourteen in all, four guards and ten farmers.

Kibi starts his Ioun Stone of Tongues whirling around his head, and Dranko speaks fluent orcish. The orcs are talking animatedly on mundane topics – farming, their next meal, the weather. The guards talk with the farmers, making it clear that they are just bodyguards, and not jailers. One orc squints across the hazy field, thinking he sees something up in the air, but shakes his head and keeps talking to the farmer next to him.

“It’s a target-rich environment,” whispers Grey Wolf to Aravis.

Step overhears him.

“Do not kill them unless we must!” he admonishes angrily.

“You cast the ironstorm," whispers Aravis, even more quietly. “And I’ll take on all the bad karma.”

He’s kidding, of course.

When the mass of orcs is about half way across the ring of portals, Dranko drops down from his hiding plane, plants himself in front of the curtain, and in orcish calls out:

“Uh, can we sit down and have a little chat for a minute?”

Snokas and Morningstar jump down behind the orcs, in front of the portal through which they’ve just emerged. The rest of the Company quickly follows, taking up positions to prevent any of the orcs from fleeing through their oft-used portals. Before emerging fully from the extradimensional space, Kibi picks one of the armored orcs who might be the leader and casts charm monster on him.

The orcs are spinning around and babbling chaotically among themselves. There’s lots of pointing, plenty of surprised orcish expressions, and enough shouting to effectively drown out the sound of Kibi’s spellcasting.

Dranko clears his throat.

“I’ll repeat myself,” he says over the din. “Stay there in the center of this circle and sit down, and you won’t be hurt.”

There’s more commotion, but not because of Dranko’s command. Another half-dozen orcs pop out of the first portal and crash into Morningstar and Snokas. All eight go down in a heap of arms, legs, weapons and farming implements. Of the orcs already through, the armed guards draw their swords and the farmers brandish their hoes and pitchforks. It looks like a melee is inevitable, until the orc targeted by Kibi’s spell shouts out:

“Wait! Don’t attack!”

The other orcs look at him doubtfully.

“What, you know something?” asks one of the other armed orcs. “Who are these people?”

“They’re all right, I think,” says the charmed orc. “Hold on.”

The orcs tangled with Morningstar and Snokas extricate themselves and move to join their fellows. The rest are extremely alarmed, moving to stand back to back and holding out their weapons. Only the orders of Kibi’s orc is holding them back. Various members of the Company prepare to tackle any orc who makes a dash for one of the portals.

Kibi drops down from his hiding place and says in Orcish, “We don’t mean you any harm. We’re new to the area and have some questions.”

“I think he’s telling the truth,” says the charmed orc to his brethren. “We don’t want to start anything with them. They look dangerous.”

“We are dangerous,” agrees Kibi. “But only when provoked.”

“So don’t provoke them!” the charmed orc snarls at the rest.

The farmers are mostly nodding their heads at this, just as happy not to fight with these strange folk. The armed guards look more disgruntled than anything else, but make no hostile moves.

“Tell us about where you come from,” says Kibi. “Where do these doors go?”

(Dranko and Snokas translate for the others so that all can understand the exchange.)

The charmed orc sheathes his weapon and breathes a sigh of relief. He approaches Kibi, smiling.

“I’m Gluk! Who are you?” he asks affably.

“Kibilhathur Bimson at your service,” says Kibi, bowing slightly. Kay shakes her head.

Gluk grabs Kibi’s head in both hands and greets him with a forceful head-butt. The others wince, but to his credit the dwarf doesn’t even flinch.

“So,” says Gluk, “if you don’t mind me askin’ , where d’ya come from?”

The other orcs crowd around, wanting to hear.

“We came in through that doorway,” says Kibi, pointing to the portal through which the Company arrived.

“The one with the skull?” asks Gluk, awe-struck. The other orcs start muttering among themselves.

“But…” continues Gluk, his voice rising. “But… isn’t there a horrible monster in there?”

“Three monsters, actually.”

“Three monsters?” echoes Gluk, even more impressed.

One of the farmer orcs pipes up from the back.

“We should draw two more skulls on the sign!”

“You made the signs?” asks Kibi.

“Well, not me personally, but yeah.”

One of the other armored orcs starts to look angry, and pushes his way toward the front of the pack. He stays quiet, but glares at Gluk.

“Are you all orcs here?” asks Kibi.

“Of course!” answers Gluk. “We control everything in this region.”

He puffs up with pride, as do some of the other orcs. Kibi keeps up the questions.

“Where do these other doors go? There are others with skulls. Do they all have vicious monsters behind them?”

“The ones with the skulls all do,” says Gluk. “Those…” he points to a gray portal “…we don’t think go anywhere.”

The angry orc finally bursts out of the pack and grabs Gluk by the shoulder.

“Gluk!” shouts the new orc. “Shut up!”

“Bolg, we can trust ‘em,” says Gluk casually.

“How do you know?” shouts Bolg, incredulous. “We can’t trust them! They’re strangers. They’re not orcs!”

“Bolg, believe me, we can trust them. I’m sure of it.”

“It doesn’t matter if we can trust them!” shouts Bolg. “We’re not supposed to talk ‘bout certain things. If word gets back to Haugutter, he’s gonna eat your guts!”

“Is Haugutter your chief?” asks Kibi.

“Yes,” answers Gluk, looking apprehensively at Bolg. “I… I shouldn’t say any more. Bolg’s right.”

“How about the one with the red smear?” asks Kibi, unperturbed. Sensing a possibly shift in the dynamics here, the rest of the party has quietly joined together near Kibi.

Bolg speaks up before Gluk can answer.

“Gluk, don’t tell them about… about anything! You know the rules! We should be reporting to Haugutter right now!”

Morningstar decides that if spoken information is about to dry up, she’ll have to switch over to thought information. At the back of the party, she slips up the Rope Trick, casts detect thoughts, and climbs back down.

Gluk says, “Look, we need to send someone back to Glaring Peak. I mean…” he points to the Company “…you being strangers and all. I’m going to send some runners. Hey you two… and you! Head back through and report this encounter to the chief, all right?”

Four of the orcs start to head toward the door.

“Hey!” shouts Kibi. “I’d rather you stay here until we’re done talking with you. How do we know you’re not sending for a big army that’s going to come and attack us or something?”

Some of the orcs start muttering, “Yeah, why aren’t we getting a big army and attacking them?” Dranko and Snokas glance nervously at each other.

Another orcs answers: “Why risk our necks? We’re not doing anything to them, and they’re not doing anything to us?”

“Hold on, hold on,” says Gluk. “We’re not getting a big army to attack you. I give you my word. I’ll tell my men not to come back with a big army. It’s just that you’re the kind of thing we need to spread the word about. By Gruumsh, we could even recruit you if you wanted.”

“What would you recruit us for?” asks Kibi.

“Spreading the Empire of Glaring Peak, of course!” answers Gluk, grinning.

“Ah. So have you fought against things that aren’t orcs here?”

“Well, sure! We’ve…”

“GLUK!! SHUT UP!!!!!” shouts Bolg, his voice growing hoarse from all his shouting.

To be safe, Kibi casts a wall of force to seal up the portal toward which some of the orcs are edging.

“What’s he doing?” cries Bolg in alarm. “He’s doing some sort of magic! We should stop him! Gluk, we should stop him!”

“He’s not going to hurt anyone,” Gluk assures him. “See? He’s finished, with no harm done."

Morningstar finally starts scanning Bolg’s surface thoughts just as the four orcs bump into Kibi’s invisible force wall.

“Hey!” shouts one of the confounded farmers. “There’s something blocking the way. It’s an invisible wall!”

Inasmuch as an orc can go pale, Bolg does. His eyes go wide and he looks horrified.

“Did you just do that?” he stammers at Kibi.

“Er…,” says Kibi.

“Take it down!” yells Bolg. “Take it down! For the love of Gruumsh, TAKE IT DOWN!!!!!!”

“Why?” asks Kibi calmly.

Morningstar has no trouble with Bolg’s surface thoughts. He’s thinking that something unspeakably horrible will happen of you block off a portal. He doesn’t know what – his superiors never told him. But they’ve impressed upon him for years that sealing a portal is the worst, most idiotic and dangerous thing that an orc could possibly do.

“Just take it down,” pleads – nay, whimpers – Bolg. “I beg you.”

“Will you promise that you’ll all stay here until we’re done talking with you, if I take down the wall?” asks Kibi, still the picture of calm in the face of Bolg’s yammering.

“We can’t make that promise!” shouts another of the orcish guards. “What of they’re just here to pump information from us and then kill us?”

“We’re not going to kill you,” says Kibi with a sigh. “But the wall stays until you promise.”

Morningstar relays to the others in Charagan common that Bolg is still thinking: “he’s got to take it down. He’s got to take it down! He’s got to…”

Dranko says, “I’d like to point out that we really only need to speak with one of you. So if we were going to kill you, we would have already killed all of you but one. But all of you are still alive, which means we’re not going to kill any of you.”

Half of the orcs seem impressed by his logic, and the other half bristles with indignation. Morningstar switches her detect thoughts to another orc, who’s thinking similar thoughts about the wall. But then he thinks: “I don’t trust him, but they do look pretty well equipped and well-armed. They probably could kill us.” Morningstar smiles to herself.

“Ok!” shouts Gluk. “Nobody goes through the Ways until I give the word! Understood?”

When the orcs nod in (unhappy) agreement, Kibi drops the wall of force.

“See if it’s down!” barks Gluk.

One orc sticks his arm though the glowing blue curtain, but before his whole body is sucked through he yanks the arm back out again. Aravis readies a chain lightning just in case any group of orcs decides to make a break for it. Morningstar switches her mind-scan back to Gluk.

“I still can’t tell you anything more,” says Gluk. “It’s more than my life is worth. Bolg is right. We have certain laws about what we’re supposed to tell strangers. I’ve said too much already.”

He looks apologetically at Kibi.

“What are those laws?” asks Dranko.

“We don’t talk to strangers, mostly. And we don’t give away secrets,” says Gluk.

“Why not?” asks Dranko.

“’Cause we were told not to,” says Gluk, a bit confusedly.

“You shouldn’t even be tellin’ ‘em that!” yells Bolg exasperatedly.

Kibi translates for Aravis, who says, “Presumably you guys don’t go through the doors marked by skulls. So those places aren’t part of your empire. Therefore, anything you know about them won’t be a state secret. So, tell us what you know about those places!”

Gluk scratches his head. “Well, I suppose that makes sense…”

“NO!” shouts Bolg, nearly boiling over. “Don’t fall for that crap!”

Gluk is thinking: “I don’t actually know anything about what’s beyond the skulls, so I don’t know what “state secrets” I could give away…”

“Do you often meet strangers?” asks Ernie via Kibi.

“We don’t meet them here, but we do on the other side of Glaring Peak.

Bolg just rolls his eyes at this point, and starts composing the case he’s going to make for having Gluk beheaded at the next tribal council.

“Have you seen any humans there?” asks Kibi.

“You should stop asking me questions,” says Gluk. “It’s only going to get me in trouble.”

But he can’t help but think the answer: “yeah, some humans, yeah.”

“Do you know anything about the Black Circle?” asks Kibi. “Or about the…”

“Please!” Gluk cuts him off. “Don’t ask me any more questions. I can’t answer them!

Morningstar shakes her head. The words “Black Circle” didn’t impinge on his thoughts at all.

Gluk leans in close to Kibi and says conspiratorially, “Look, I know you don’t mean us any harm, but we do things in certain ways, and…”

He holds his arms out helplessly.

“And if the rest of these guys decide they don’t care what I say, I can’t stop them from attacking you.”

“I’m not trying to get anyone in any trouble, really,” says Kibi. “We were just trying to find out what’s around here. How long have you guys been here? Have you always been here? Who was at Glaring Peak before the orcs?”

Gluk says nothing. He looks annoyed, helpless. Morningstar switches her mind-reading to Bolg, who’s thinking: “We’ve always been at Glaring Peak. Ha! As if anyone could take Glaring Peak…”

“Do you age normally?” continues Kibi doggedly. “Are orcs born, and do they grow old?”

In spite of himself, Bolg thinks: “Hmmm…. He knows how things work here…”

“I’m not answering any more of your questions, so I’m not sure why we’re still talking,” says Gluk, growing weary of the game.

At Ernie’s request, Dranko asks: “Is Glaring Peak made of pure crystal?”

Bolg and Gluk both look at Dranko like he’s crazy. “I always knew half-breeds were crazy,” thinks Bolg.

Kibi manages to squeeze out one final question.

“In your vast Empire, have you seen an Eye of Moirel? A glowing crystal rock?”

Blog thinks: “I don’t know what that is, and I don’t care. We’re not answering their questions, and I’ve had it.”

“Gluk, enough is enough,” says Bolg, stepping forward. “Tell them we’re leaving. Tell them they can go back into their Skull Way and go about their business. If they want an audience with Haugutter, they should drop their weapons and allow themselves to be escorted disarmed!”

“Sorry to have inconvenienced you,” says Kibi.

“No problem at all,” says Gluk. “Good luck in your travels.”

Then, to the orcs: “Move out! You four, report back to Haugutter immediately. The rest of you, back to work!”

Most of the orcs continue into the wheat-signed portal, while four jump through the Way to Glaring Peak. Soon all of the orcs are gone. Kay heaves a heavy sigh of regret and holsters her war-hammer. Dranko examines some crude copper coins and a bit of beef jerky he filched from one of the farmers. One Certain Step looks very pleased, and bows to Kibi.

“I’ll bet anything we’ll have to go through another one of those skull doors,” says Dranko, flipping one his new coppers on his thumb.

“That’s what I figured the moment we arrived here,” says Aravis.

“The orcs must be a major power here, conquering other peoples,” says Kibi idly. “And Haugutter seems to know something – that you shouldn’t block portals, for instance. It would be interesting to know what his secrets are. Maybe we should visit Glaring Peak.”

“If it’s bad to block these things, there must be some kind of energy moving through the portals,” says Dranko. “Maybe this place right here is the nexus.”

At his suggestions, Kibi uses his power of xorn movement to make sure the Eye isn’t buried at the center of the portal ring. It isn’t.

“I wonder if the Eye of Moirel is what’s powering all this,” says Ernie.

“Almost certainly not,” says Dranko. “Remember that the other Eyes said that ‘the canary has caged the cat,’ which means that the Eye thought it had this whole area under control, but now the ‘canary’ controls the Eye.”

“Maybe the Eye of Moirel is powering the whole thing,” muses Aravis, idly petting Pewter, “but it doesn’t want to.”

There is a long silence after that. The wind stirs the tall yellow grasses, caring not a whit for who controls what.


…to be continued…
 


Carnifex

First Post
More, more! :D

Great stuff as always. I now really want to find out just what the hell is going on with all these ageless pocket dimensions :)
 

Urbanmech

Explorer
Two updates! It is like Christmas all over again. Glad you and your new wife had a great time in New Zeland, Sagiro.

And as for the cleaning and supplying. Piratecat likes cleaning bathrooms. It's something about the scrubbing bubbles.

Is it the neat little little bubble guys on the scrubbing bubbles bottle that makes Piratecat like cleaning bathrooms? They make me giggle as I clean the bathroom (or am I the only one?).
 



KidCthulhu

First Post
Urbanmech said:
Is it the neat little little bubble guys on the scrubbing bubbles bottle that makes Piratecat like cleaning bathrooms? They make me giggle as I clean the bathroom (or am I the only one?).

The same ones. He had a towel with the bubble guys on it as a kid, and I think he's never quite recovered. But I'm not going to speak ill of a man who enjoys cleaning bathrooms! Don't want to discourage him.
 


Softwind

First Post
Whew! Caught up again. Just so I could remember all that has gone before, I re-read the PDFs StevenAC graciously crafted and provided. It still holds my interest after several reads. Yay Sagiro!

Have the character sheets been updated to be current to the StoryHour posts?
I would think not, since 10th to 12th level seems kinda low for the adventures they are having...

If not, about what level is everyone? My group is approaching "Name" level (for those of you who remember the previous editions of D&D, otherwise, think "10th". :p ) I'm giving them more stuff to think about than they really want too, because Sagiro has inspired me. It also keeps me looking for "danglies" in my story, to keep it all tied together. Fun, but challenging!

Can't wait for the next installment!
 
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