KidCthulhu
First Post
Mmmmm. Virtual cake. With imaginary chocolate frosting.
[Pulls up virtual seat, and waits, virtual fork poised.]
[Pulls up virtual seat, and waits, virtual fork poised.]
Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
- Thread starter spyscribe
- Start date
dpdx
Explorer
This Story Hour still rocks. Consider the pantheon swiped, if only so that I can have Justicars in my own campaign.
In fact, if I was DM, I'd give Anvil Leadership the minute he qualifies for it. Somehow, I need to see him with a sidekick/junior Justicar so that they can play off each other. He's so (old school) Joe Friday...
In fact, if I was DM, I'd give Anvil Leadership the minute he qualifies for it. Somehow, I need to see him with a sidekick/junior Justicar so that they can play off each other. He's so (old school) Joe Friday...
spyscribe
First Post
dpdx said:
Hey, welcome back dpdx! As a matter of fact, I have been trying to tell Fajitas that Anvil needs a sidekick, if only so that said flunkie can begin his exclamations with, "Holy Kettenek, Anvil!"
As for the old school Joe Friday... well, you'll see in later installments, it's actually just a clever ruse to cover the fact that he's nuts. Although Lira might be just a tad biased where that's concerned.
P.S. As your prize for being the first person to post in this thread (lo these many moons ago) who none of the players know in real life, if you let me know when your birthday is, I'll post an update for you on it.
--spyscribe (who is off to search for cake)
dpdx
Explorer
Aw, shucks: You're entirely too kind, spyscribe.spyscribe said:
My birthday, in fact, was April 9th, and so instead of waiting 11 months to post, maybe you could just keep doing what you're doing.
That'd be present enough for me - to mangle a saying, "What do you get for the man you don't even know?"
spyscribe
First Post
Update on updates
Thank you everyone, posts in the story hour were a bright spot in an otherwise trying day yesterday.
Fajitas has sent me the next installment which is safely esconced on my computer at home. If it doesn't go up this evening, it'll be my first project tomorrow.
Snipet: Hey there! We missed you Sunday.
jonrog: Whoo hoo! Hostage... er... gamer exchance. Good luck with the bad men who control the purse strings. The opus is ready anytime you are. I'll be in touch, say, early next week.
dpdx: Ah, curses. I suppose the other alternative is to declare any day there is an update to be your birthday and see how much cake you can extort out of your co-workers.
Thank you everyone, posts in the story hour were a bright spot in an otherwise trying day yesterday.
Fajitas has sent me the next installment which is safely esconced on my computer at home. If it doesn't go up this evening, it'll be my first project tomorrow.
Snipet: Hey there! We missed you Sunday.
jonrog: Whoo hoo! Hostage... er... gamer exchance. Good luck with the bad men who control the purse strings. The opus is ready anytime you are. I'll be in touch, say, early next week.
dpdx: Ah, curses. I suppose the other alternative is to declare any day there is an update to be your birthday and see how much cake you can extort out of your co-workers.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Very Fifth
In which: the PCs dislike an Aegosian for the first time
(as recorded by Fajitas)
"Um. His forehead was a little higher… like that. Yeah. And the scar ran longer… no, longer… Right. That looks like him to me. Reyu?"
Reyu shrugs and nods. It looks close enough, but then, to her most humans look alike.
Anvil studies the charcoal sketch one of the monks at the Temple has produced based on Thatch and Reyu’s description of the man that offered to help them find lodgings.
"That is a large scar. Few who take such a wound to the face live," he comments.
Thatch shrugs. "That’s what he looked like."
"Very well," Anvil says. "We shall take this with us."
"With us? May I ask where we going?" Reyu inquires.
"To prove or your innocence or your guilt by seeing if this man can be found. You are still prisoners in my custody until such time as I give a ruling. Until then, you shall serve the Temple. And your first task shall be to aid me in this investigation."
"What happens if we refuse?" Reyu asks.
"Then I will have no choice but to rule against you."
"I see. And the law of your land is that… slavery… is the proper punishment for such a crime?"
"It is not the law of my land, but it is the law under which you will be tried. Likewise, if you attempt to flee my custody in the course of this investigation, I will be forced to rule against you." After a brief pause, he adds, "Kettenek’s Justice demands it."
"Then by all means," Reyu says. "Let us get underway."
"Um. So where do we begin?" Thatch asks.
"At the scene of the crime, of course…"
*************
The estate of Count Dain Missola of Dar Aego is well kept. It is a fenced in compound surrounded by a hedge, and consists of a manor house, a stable and livery area, and slave quarters. The grounds are finely manicured, with a few simple topiary bushes and a fine marble fountain. By Pykosian standards, it is very well to do, though by Aegosian standards it is very plain indeed.
Anvil, Thatch, and Reyu are escorted to the manor house by a pair of guards. There they are met by Desalle. "Have you come to turn them over?" he asks Anvil.
"We are here to investigate the matter. Please send for your master."
Desalle glares at Anvil, but leaves the room. A few minutes later, he re-enters. "May I present his eminence, Count Dain Missola." And the Count enters the room. He is a large man, made so by his naturally large frame and his excess of weight. His beard is neatly trimmed, with dignified streaks of gray in it. He wears several fine gold and silver chains, and exquisitely tailored clothing of Pykosian style. He speaks in a deep voice.
"Justicar. How may I assist you?"
"We wish to inspect the scene of the crime. Tell us what you know of this matter, what transpired and where."
Missola’s eyes flick towards Thatch and Reyu. "You investigate with the two lead suspects at your side?"
"I am not convinced of their guilt."
Missola looks them over casually, as if they are bugs to him. He looks at Anvil with a similar expression. "The evidence against them would be compelling enough for an Aegosian Justicar."
"Then they should be thankful they are not in Dar Aego," Anvil flatly retorts.
Missola studies Anvil. "You are only a First Order Justicar," he says. "Mind your insolence, or I will see to it this case is handed to a more competent investigator."
"If that is Kettenek’s Will. Until then, I shall carry out his Justice as I see fit. We would see the crime scene now."
Thatch and Reyu inwardly cringes at Anvil’s ham-fisted approach to diplomacy, but Missola narrows his eyes, turns around, and walks deeper into the house. "Bring them," he calls over his shoulder to Desalle, who bows and ushers them forward.
Missola leads them to the scene of the crime, a parlor room filled with elegant drapes and divans. The statue rests on a mantle over a large fireplace. It is but one of many trinkets scattered about the room. Thatch, Reyu, and Anvil inspect the room and question Missola and Desalle about the break-in. It occurred in the middle of the night. There is no sign of forced entry. The one statue is the only thing that was taken. When asked if he saw or heard anything, Missola looks dismissive.
"I had retired for the evening before anything happened. You’d have to ask the servants if they saw anything."
"We shall," Anvil responds. "I have one further question for you. Have either of you ever seen this man?"
Anvil holds up the sketch of the scarred man. Missola and Desalle both inspect it. "Never," Missola responds. The heroes scrutinize their faces, alert for any non-verbal clues that might belie their words, but they find none.
"Very well. We will speak with the servants, now."
Thatch can’t quite keep the outraged expression off his face as they are taken to the slave quarters. A long room, bunks along the walls, a single curtain partitioning the men from the women. The building, though seemingly adequate on the outside, is shoddy from within and ill lit. The stables are in better repair.
The slave master lines up the household slaves, about ten in all. They all wear iron collars, but seem to be in reasonable physical health. No obvious signs of abuse, well clothed, seemingly well fed. Their demeanor, however, is disturbing. They all keep their eyes to the ground, not once making eye contact with anyone. Reyu shivers.
Anvil questions a few of the slaves who might have been about the house last night. They are completely deferential, and claim to have seen and heard nothing. Nor do any of them claim to recognize the man in the sketch. At a dead end, our heroes take their leave of Count Missola, and are shown off the estate.
Although the interviews with the slaves yield no useful information, they haunt Thatch and Reyu deeply. "How can they treat people like that?" Thatch demands.
"It is the law," Anvil simply replies, his answer betraying none of this thoughts.
"But is it Justice?" Reyu asks. "If you attain this Universal Law you believe in, will such things still be permitted?"
After a brief pause, Anvil responds, "That will not be a matter for me to decide. Come. Let us inquire further after this mysterious man of yours. If he is a man of a criminal bent, perhaps he frequents some less savory locations…"
In which: the PCs dislike an Aegosian for the first time
(as recorded by Fajitas)
"Um. His forehead was a little higher… like that. Yeah. And the scar ran longer… no, longer… Right. That looks like him to me. Reyu?"
Reyu shrugs and nods. It looks close enough, but then, to her most humans look alike.
Anvil studies the charcoal sketch one of the monks at the Temple has produced based on Thatch and Reyu’s description of the man that offered to help them find lodgings.
"That is a large scar. Few who take such a wound to the face live," he comments.
Thatch shrugs. "That’s what he looked like."
"Very well," Anvil says. "We shall take this with us."
"With us? May I ask where we going?" Reyu inquires.
"To prove or your innocence or your guilt by seeing if this man can be found. You are still prisoners in my custody until such time as I give a ruling. Until then, you shall serve the Temple. And your first task shall be to aid me in this investigation."
"What happens if we refuse?" Reyu asks.
"Then I will have no choice but to rule against you."
"I see. And the law of your land is that… slavery… is the proper punishment for such a crime?"
"It is not the law of my land, but it is the law under which you will be tried. Likewise, if you attempt to flee my custody in the course of this investigation, I will be forced to rule against you." After a brief pause, he adds, "Kettenek’s Justice demands it."
"Then by all means," Reyu says. "Let us get underway."
"Um. So where do we begin?" Thatch asks.
"At the scene of the crime, of course…"
*************
The estate of Count Dain Missola of Dar Aego is well kept. It is a fenced in compound surrounded by a hedge, and consists of a manor house, a stable and livery area, and slave quarters. The grounds are finely manicured, with a few simple topiary bushes and a fine marble fountain. By Pykosian standards, it is very well to do, though by Aegosian standards it is very plain indeed.
Anvil, Thatch, and Reyu are escorted to the manor house by a pair of guards. There they are met by Desalle. "Have you come to turn them over?" he asks Anvil.
"We are here to investigate the matter. Please send for your master."
Desalle glares at Anvil, but leaves the room. A few minutes later, he re-enters. "May I present his eminence, Count Dain Missola." And the Count enters the room. He is a large man, made so by his naturally large frame and his excess of weight. His beard is neatly trimmed, with dignified streaks of gray in it. He wears several fine gold and silver chains, and exquisitely tailored clothing of Pykosian style. He speaks in a deep voice.
"Justicar. How may I assist you?"
"We wish to inspect the scene of the crime. Tell us what you know of this matter, what transpired and where."
Missola’s eyes flick towards Thatch and Reyu. "You investigate with the two lead suspects at your side?"
"I am not convinced of their guilt."
Missola looks them over casually, as if they are bugs to him. He looks at Anvil with a similar expression. "The evidence against them would be compelling enough for an Aegosian Justicar."
"Then they should be thankful they are not in Dar Aego," Anvil flatly retorts.
Missola studies Anvil. "You are only a First Order Justicar," he says. "Mind your insolence, or I will see to it this case is handed to a more competent investigator."
"If that is Kettenek’s Will. Until then, I shall carry out his Justice as I see fit. We would see the crime scene now."
Thatch and Reyu inwardly cringes at Anvil’s ham-fisted approach to diplomacy, but Missola narrows his eyes, turns around, and walks deeper into the house. "Bring them," he calls over his shoulder to Desalle, who bows and ushers them forward.
Missola leads them to the scene of the crime, a parlor room filled with elegant drapes and divans. The statue rests on a mantle over a large fireplace. It is but one of many trinkets scattered about the room. Thatch, Reyu, and Anvil inspect the room and question Missola and Desalle about the break-in. It occurred in the middle of the night. There is no sign of forced entry. The one statue is the only thing that was taken. When asked if he saw or heard anything, Missola looks dismissive.
"I had retired for the evening before anything happened. You’d have to ask the servants if they saw anything."
"We shall," Anvil responds. "I have one further question for you. Have either of you ever seen this man?"
Anvil holds up the sketch of the scarred man. Missola and Desalle both inspect it. "Never," Missola responds. The heroes scrutinize their faces, alert for any non-verbal clues that might belie their words, but they find none.
"Very well. We will speak with the servants, now."
Thatch can’t quite keep the outraged expression off his face as they are taken to the slave quarters. A long room, bunks along the walls, a single curtain partitioning the men from the women. The building, though seemingly adequate on the outside, is shoddy from within and ill lit. The stables are in better repair.
The slave master lines up the household slaves, about ten in all. They all wear iron collars, but seem to be in reasonable physical health. No obvious signs of abuse, well clothed, seemingly well fed. Their demeanor, however, is disturbing. They all keep their eyes to the ground, not once making eye contact with anyone. Reyu shivers.
Anvil questions a few of the slaves who might have been about the house last night. They are completely deferential, and claim to have seen and heard nothing. Nor do any of them claim to recognize the man in the sketch. At a dead end, our heroes take their leave of Count Missola, and are shown off the estate.
Although the interviews with the slaves yield no useful information, they haunt Thatch and Reyu deeply. "How can they treat people like that?" Thatch demands.
"It is the law," Anvil simply replies, his answer betraying none of this thoughts.
"But is it Justice?" Reyu asks. "If you attain this Universal Law you believe in, will such things still be permitted?"
After a brief pause, Anvil responds, "That will not be a matter for me to decide. Come. Let us inquire further after this mysterious man of yours. If he is a man of a criminal bent, perhaps he frequents some less savory locations…"
