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The Runic Storyhour: An Oriental Adventure in The Dream
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<blockquote data-quote="Rune" data-source="post: 5707" data-attributes="member: 67"><p>Session 3, part 1</p><p></p><p>I am conscious again, but I cannot move.</p><p></p><p>We are certain that our luck has changed. We have fled from the fury of the elements in full armor and on the backs of war-horses. We have narrowly escaped an unexplained battle and we are riding hard toward the south. When at last the landscape becomes solid beneath us, when the wind subsides and the earth ceases to shake, we turn to look for shelter and to make encampment where Swift’s wounds, and mine, can be nursed and where my body can be revived. </p><p></p><p>We come upon the kind of expansive rock overhang that I have slept near many times. A giant hemlock tree stretches its Anaconda root nearly thirty feet across the edge of a rock overhang and dips into the soil below. The ledge is narrow. A human might be able to crawl between the upper and the lower level, or perhaps the halfling could crouch. It forms a sort of a shallow cave, but a hole in the back of the crevice, no more than a foot in diameter, leads deep into the earth. Curiously, we discover a tiny tiger cub outside of the shallow cave, its eyes still closed, and so small that it could fit in the palm of a hand, just sitting there in a kind of stupor, in the company of a clutch of innocuous little cave spiders. The spiders dare not close in on the cub that they surround, and the cub dares not move. I can see very little of this from where I lay, but I can feel the draft from the mouth of the cave. The men ready their weapons, sensing that if the cub is there, the tigress might be returning. Immediately, they build a fire.</p><p></p><p>A rush of cool air thrusts out of the mouth of the rock shelter. The halfling monk sets out to explore the back of the cave, and Swift follows soon after him. Dragging Chameleon from the burning forest has won the halfling a new respect from the group. We hear the raised voices of the men and Chameleon, who had been assigned to watch over me, for any small movement could send me back toward my death, sets forth to investigate the matter. I am later told that they have come across a human body, long dead, wearing the standard traveler's garb, lacerated and in full decomposition. There is a mark on the back of the neck—-a brand—-that they have drawn upon paper for me. I do not recognize it and neither do the others, I presume.</p><p></p><p>Swift has searched the body, (soul-tainting work that it is, sometimes these things are necessary) and has found a map outlining an assassination plot against the Governor in a large town, called the Silver City, not far from west from here. He has also recovered three ceramic vials of some liquid, which is putrid to smell. I can see in Swift's eyes that he would have us go to the city, but I cannot bring myself to think of it for I am so tired. I long, as he does, for the sight of a city. Chameleon strokes the kitten carefully with his large hand. Perhaps we could send the monkey into small opening in the back of the cave to explore. They toss in a piece of fruit, but the monkey will not go inside. Chameleon casts a spell of lighting on a crossbow bolt (he has a tiny crossbow, which he can use with a single hand) and fires it into the hole, but it hits a wall and then drops. Whatever reality shift that is triggered in the casting is too subtle for our notice. The cave is narrow for as far as can be seen. Searching for rocks to block the entrance, they seal it tight. Finally, we feel somewhat secure.</p><p></p><p><em>DM note: the player of Swift was playing the monkey again. Monkeys are funny.</em></p><p></p><p>For a week we rest and heal. I can hear Chameleon working on constructing a composite bow late into the night. He is not finished when we decide to move on, but continues to work on it, when he can; he even twists the bowstring with hair liberated from the war-horses while we ride. The city beckons!</p><p></p><p><strong>The Adventure Begins</strong></p><p></p><p>As we near the city, we stop to study the map and consider where we will leave our horses. There is some argument regarding the wisdom of Swift carrying a map with plans for the assassination of the governor on his body, particularly if the map is of the city we enter, and the governor in the plans is the governor of that city. We urge him to destroy the map, as we have made a copy of the neighborhoods, but he intends to keep it and says he will take full responsibility for it if it is found on his body. We stow the armor on the horses and we enter with our weapons at ease, going east toward the market place. We are carrying remnants of conscripts’ armor, the Empire’s silver found in the bakemono camp, and the war-horses, Chameleon reminds us. We are conspicuous.</p><p></p><p><em>DM note: it took the players a long time just to figure out which entrance into the city to use. In the end, they probably chose wisely.</em></p><p></p><p>It is decided, then, that we enter on foot, into the East Gate neighborhood, described on the map as a rough and tumble neighborhood, over-run with mercenaries and adventurers: transients. All weapons must be peace bonded, the guards insist, and reluctantly, we comply. Rumors abound in the Silver City. Our old encounter, Grinning Tiger Rules, is said to have lost his ancestral katana and lost great honor for himself and for his family. This rumor is obviously old and stale. It is soon drowned out with a new, omnipresent one: the Governor has been assassinated. Guards are everywhere moving among the denizens of the city. One, we see is clearly in charge of the others; she is an impressive woman soldier with strands of gray in her braids, carrying a three section staff, and barking orders at the rest of the guards. She passes by quickly.</p><p></p><p><em>DM note: the rest of the guards carry naganata and swords. The PCs figured that the commander was a monk, because of the three-section staff, but have no other evidence that this is the case.</em></p><p></p><p>We decide to split up and keep a low profile. Swift is going to find an alchemist’s shop to inquire about the vials of liquid. Chameleon and the halfling go off somewhere to explore the market, I suppose. I attempt to codify the rumors about the Governor’s death, but with no success. When we meet again, Swift shows us a note signed and sealed by the Commander of the Guards, Night Softly Calls. He has (foolishly?) given the map to the Commander, and claims that she is entirely trustworthy. Perhaps she is. We have been granted permission to enter the Governor’s Palace on the condition that we will attempt to solve the mystery of his death. The Guards will, of course, escort us. It is quickly decided that we will accept the challenge offered by the Commander.</p><p></p><p>My companions are, for the most part, still a puzzle to me. As we walk I ask Chameleon what, just at this moment, his philosophy is. "I don't care about Grinning Tiger or the governor. Honor is a personal thing. My honor is my business. Right now, however, all I want is to find some new daggers." I wish that I could find such sense or simplicity in the Dream. More than any of us, he lives in the moment, he dreams with his weapons, he is ready to react or to accept a challenge.</p><p></p><p>Our knives are all that remain ready as we move toward the palace.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rune, post: 5707, member: 67"] Session 3, part 1 I am conscious again, but I cannot move. We are certain that our luck has changed. We have fled from the fury of the elements in full armor and on the backs of war-horses. We have narrowly escaped an unexplained battle and we are riding hard toward the south. When at last the landscape becomes solid beneath us, when the wind subsides and the earth ceases to shake, we turn to look for shelter and to make encampment where Swift’s wounds, and mine, can be nursed and where my body can be revived. We come upon the kind of expansive rock overhang that I have slept near many times. A giant hemlock tree stretches its Anaconda root nearly thirty feet across the edge of a rock overhang and dips into the soil below. The ledge is narrow. A human might be able to crawl between the upper and the lower level, or perhaps the halfling could crouch. It forms a sort of a shallow cave, but a hole in the back of the crevice, no more than a foot in diameter, leads deep into the earth. Curiously, we discover a tiny tiger cub outside of the shallow cave, its eyes still closed, and so small that it could fit in the palm of a hand, just sitting there in a kind of stupor, in the company of a clutch of innocuous little cave spiders. The spiders dare not close in on the cub that they surround, and the cub dares not move. I can see very little of this from where I lay, but I can feel the draft from the mouth of the cave. The men ready their weapons, sensing that if the cub is there, the tigress might be returning. Immediately, they build a fire. A rush of cool air thrusts out of the mouth of the rock shelter. The halfling monk sets out to explore the back of the cave, and Swift follows soon after him. Dragging Chameleon from the burning forest has won the halfling a new respect from the group. We hear the raised voices of the men and Chameleon, who had been assigned to watch over me, for any small movement could send me back toward my death, sets forth to investigate the matter. I am later told that they have come across a human body, long dead, wearing the standard traveler's garb, lacerated and in full decomposition. There is a mark on the back of the neck—-a brand—-that they have drawn upon paper for me. I do not recognize it and neither do the others, I presume. Swift has searched the body, (soul-tainting work that it is, sometimes these things are necessary) and has found a map outlining an assassination plot against the Governor in a large town, called the Silver City, not far from west from here. He has also recovered three ceramic vials of some liquid, which is putrid to smell. I can see in Swift's eyes that he would have us go to the city, but I cannot bring myself to think of it for I am so tired. I long, as he does, for the sight of a city. Chameleon strokes the kitten carefully with his large hand. Perhaps we could send the monkey into small opening in the back of the cave to explore. They toss in a piece of fruit, but the monkey will not go inside. Chameleon casts a spell of lighting on a crossbow bolt (he has a tiny crossbow, which he can use with a single hand) and fires it into the hole, but it hits a wall and then drops. Whatever reality shift that is triggered in the casting is too subtle for our notice. The cave is narrow for as far as can be seen. Searching for rocks to block the entrance, they seal it tight. Finally, we feel somewhat secure. [i]DM note: the player of Swift was playing the monkey again. Monkeys are funny.[/i] For a week we rest and heal. I can hear Chameleon working on constructing a composite bow late into the night. He is not finished when we decide to move on, but continues to work on it, when he can; he even twists the bowstring with hair liberated from the war-horses while we ride. The city beckons! [b]The Adventure Begins[/b] As we near the city, we stop to study the map and consider where we will leave our horses. There is some argument regarding the wisdom of Swift carrying a map with plans for the assassination of the governor on his body, particularly if the map is of the city we enter, and the governor in the plans is the governor of that city. We urge him to destroy the map, as we have made a copy of the neighborhoods, but he intends to keep it and says he will take full responsibility for it if it is found on his body. We stow the armor on the horses and we enter with our weapons at ease, going east toward the market place. We are carrying remnants of conscripts’ armor, the Empire’s silver found in the bakemono camp, and the war-horses, Chameleon reminds us. We are conspicuous. [i]DM note: it took the players a long time just to figure out which entrance into the city to use. In the end, they probably chose wisely.[/i] It is decided, then, that we enter on foot, into the East Gate neighborhood, described on the map as a rough and tumble neighborhood, over-run with mercenaries and adventurers: transients. All weapons must be peace bonded, the guards insist, and reluctantly, we comply. Rumors abound in the Silver City. Our old encounter, Grinning Tiger Rules, is said to have lost his ancestral katana and lost great honor for himself and for his family. This rumor is obviously old and stale. It is soon drowned out with a new, omnipresent one: the Governor has been assassinated. Guards are everywhere moving among the denizens of the city. One, we see is clearly in charge of the others; she is an impressive woman soldier with strands of gray in her braids, carrying a three section staff, and barking orders at the rest of the guards. She passes by quickly. [i]DM note: the rest of the guards carry naganata and swords. The PCs figured that the commander was a monk, because of the three-section staff, but have no other evidence that this is the case.[/i] We decide to split up and keep a low profile. Swift is going to find an alchemist’s shop to inquire about the vials of liquid. Chameleon and the halfling go off somewhere to explore the market, I suppose. I attempt to codify the rumors about the Governor’s death, but with no success. When we meet again, Swift shows us a note signed and sealed by the Commander of the Guards, Night Softly Calls. He has (foolishly?) given the map to the Commander, and claims that she is entirely trustworthy. Perhaps she is. We have been granted permission to enter the Governor’s Palace on the condition that we will attempt to solve the mystery of his death. The Guards will, of course, escort us. It is quickly decided that we will accept the challenge offered by the Commander. My companions are, for the most part, still a puzzle to me. As we walk I ask Chameleon what, just at this moment, his philosophy is. "I don't care about Grinning Tiger or the governor. Honor is a personal thing. My honor is my business. Right now, however, all I want is to find some new daggers." I wish that I could find such sense or simplicity in the Dream. More than any of us, he lives in the moment, he dreams with his weapons, he is ready to react or to accept a challenge. Our knives are all that remain ready as we move toward the palace. [/QUOTE]
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