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Story Hour
The Tale of an Industrious Rogue (updated 3-12-2014)
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<blockquote data-quote="Cristian Andreu" data-source="post: 6235454" data-attributes="member: 23822"><p><strong><u><span style="font-size: 15px">Part III: A Profitably Problematic Business Venture</span></u></strong></p><p></p><p>Things go swell for a while, until a series of earthquakes hits the area a few months later. Sure, tremours had become increasingly common as the operation grew, in large part thanks to the absolutely careless use of an explosive concoction colloquially deemed as <em>"Orcus' Toilet After Taco Night"</em> (which they originally got very early in the campaign from a beduin alchemist, involving rather worrisome amounts of camel depositions), turning what once was a pricelessly ancient, beautiful and very, very sacred Osirian temple into a gaping hole the size of a stadium with the elemental rift floating at its centre (the miners had been tasked with digging underneath the floor of the dungeon in order to leave the rift completely exposed and in mid-air, in order for the salt to fall freely through the portal and accumulate in a massive pile, from where it could then be loaded onto one of the dozens of leather conveyors powered by slaves inside hamster wheels), but now they were getting particularly powerful.</p><p></p><p>Valanar aptly suggests (being the party's expert on matters cosmological) that the rift might have gone dangerous and potentially unstable. His successful <em>Knowledge [The Planes]</em> check allowed him to guess what was going on: The rift had been pouring such massive amounts of material from the Quasielemental Plane of Salt that the natives on the other side were getting restless, and some of them had been running into the tunnels of what still remained of the dungeon, probably causing the wreck that was shaking the ground.</p><p></p><p>Even though a few elementals had already been spat by the rift leading to the occasional spike in forced contractual termination, along with the quakes an increased rate of sightings is reported, at first just a handful (1d4 Small Quasielementals per day), eventually growing out of proportions (1d100 Small Quasielementals per day, plus the chance for a few big'uns thrown in the mix).</p><p></p><p>Workers, guards, and overseers are now getting killed by the bucketload. The administration doesn't really care all that much at first, however, since there is enough people available to spare without the quotas dropping too much, and our "heroes" are focused on the day-to-day minutiae of making the most money while caring the least possible for whomever was sent down there to work. After all, by then a whole makeshift village, named Saltspit by the party, had started to form in the area surrounding the site, with all kinds of people settling there either to work in the mines and refinery, to serve in the related services or to make money off the people working there, setting up taverns, brothels (lots and lots of brothels with very, very ugly women. Still, Vorgok managed to institute his own version of the <em>Prima Nocte</em>, and it became mandatory for every new harlot in town to spend her first night of service with the ulfen. Some of them don't get to survive past that night, though), shops and the like.</p><p></p><p>And thus they let this elemental outbreak run wild, which quickly turns into a big threat, forcing Hassan to hurry back to Katapesh in order to get support from his main associate, Prince Osman Bin Hassir -whom they had met early on in the campaign and who was later convinced by Honest Abdul to invest a sizeable amount of capital in the operation-, who sends him back along with his personal Mage-Vizier and a host of soldiers from the Zephyr Guard, the finest in Katapesh. </p><p></p><p>The Princes' force manages to fight off the elementals, but one thing catches Hassan's attention: The Mage-Vizier had somehow been able to make the creatures move back into the aspiring borehole that was the main pit by wielding a glowing stick. After some inquiries, the rogue finds out it was called a <em>Rod of Elemental Compelling</em>, which gave the spellcaster the power to force lesser elementals to do his bidding.</p><p></p><p>His eyes <em>cha-chinged</em> so hard we thought it was raining cash registers.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Cristian Andreu, post: 6235454, member: 23822"] [B][U][SIZE=4]Part III: A Profitably Problematic Business Venture[/SIZE][/U][/B] Things go swell for a while, until a series of earthquakes hits the area a few months later. Sure, tremours had become increasingly common as the operation grew, in large part thanks to the absolutely careless use of an explosive concoction colloquially deemed as [I]"Orcus' Toilet After Taco Night"[/I] (which they originally got very early in the campaign from a beduin alchemist, involving rather worrisome amounts of camel depositions), turning what once was a pricelessly ancient, beautiful and very, very sacred Osirian temple into a gaping hole the size of a stadium with the elemental rift floating at its centre (the miners had been tasked with digging underneath the floor of the dungeon in order to leave the rift completely exposed and in mid-air, in order for the salt to fall freely through the portal and accumulate in a massive pile, from where it could then be loaded onto one of the dozens of leather conveyors powered by slaves inside hamster wheels), but now they were getting particularly powerful. Valanar aptly suggests (being the party's expert on matters cosmological) that the rift might have gone dangerous and potentially unstable. His successful [I]Knowledge [The Planes][/I] check allowed him to guess what was going on: The rift had been pouring such massive amounts of material from the Quasielemental Plane of Salt that the natives on the other side were getting restless, and some of them had been running into the tunnels of what still remained of the dungeon, probably causing the wreck that was shaking the ground. Even though a few elementals had already been spat by the rift leading to the occasional spike in forced contractual termination, along with the quakes an increased rate of sightings is reported, at first just a handful (1d4 Small Quasielementals per day), eventually growing out of proportions (1d100 Small Quasielementals per day, plus the chance for a few big'uns thrown in the mix). Workers, guards, and overseers are now getting killed by the bucketload. The administration doesn't really care all that much at first, however, since there is enough people available to spare without the quotas dropping too much, and our "heroes" are focused on the day-to-day minutiae of making the most money while caring the least possible for whomever was sent down there to work. After all, by then a whole makeshift village, named Saltspit by the party, had started to form in the area surrounding the site, with all kinds of people settling there either to work in the mines and refinery, to serve in the related services or to make money off the people working there, setting up taverns, brothels (lots and lots of brothels with very, very ugly women. Still, Vorgok managed to institute his own version of the [I]Prima Nocte[/I], and it became mandatory for every new harlot in town to spend her first night of service with the ulfen. Some of them don't get to survive past that night, though), shops and the like. And thus they let this elemental outbreak run wild, which quickly turns into a big threat, forcing Hassan to hurry back to Katapesh in order to get support from his main associate, Prince Osman Bin Hassir -whom they had met early on in the campaign and who was later convinced by Honest Abdul to invest a sizeable amount of capital in the operation-, who sends him back along with his personal Mage-Vizier and a host of soldiers from the Zephyr Guard, the finest in Katapesh. The Princes' force manages to fight off the elementals, but one thing catches Hassan's attention: The Mage-Vizier had somehow been able to make the creatures move back into the aspiring borehole that was the main pit by wielding a glowing stick. After some inquiries, the rogue finds out it was called a [I]Rod of Elemental Compelling[/I], which gave the spellcaster the power to force lesser elementals to do his bidding. His eyes [I]cha-chinged[/I] so hard we thought it was raining cash registers. [/QUOTE]
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