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Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
- Thread starter spyscribe
- Start date
A'vandira Silvermane
Explorer
Just wow! Been away for what I thought was a week and upon return I find two updates waiting to be read. As well as a reminder to congratulate **blushes for its belatedness** 
WisdonLikeSilence, which I am doing herewith at last.
WisdonLikeSilence, which I am doing herewith at last. 
KidCthulhu
First Post
spyscribe said:
Now would be a very good time to find some undiscovered points in Perform and try the Singing Telegraph trick.
is there a way ?
Thare have been quite a few moments in this story hour that I've loved so much I almost feel a part of the sessions (I wish).
I'm going to GenCon (For the first time) this year, and I'd love to support Halmae in any way I can while playing D&D mini's.
So I'd love to get some t-shirts of the halmae group. I have a few suggestions:
"For Kettenek's Justice!"
"Pimp the gnome for Justice!"
I can just picture the T-shirts done in the front with a map of the Halmae on the back with maybe an enworld.org site address. Maybe any profits can go to enworld, or a charity of the groups choice. Do you think these would sell?
What other tag lines do you guys hold in high esteem?
Thare have been quite a few moments in this story hour that I've loved so much I almost feel a part of the sessions (I wish).
I'm going to GenCon (For the first time) this year, and I'd love to support Halmae in any way I can while playing D&D mini's.
So I'd love to get some t-shirts of the halmae group. I have a few suggestions:
"For Kettenek's Justice!"
"Pimp the gnome for Justice!"
I can just picture the T-shirts done in the front with a map of the Halmae on the back with maybe an enworld.org site address. Maybe any profits can go to enworld, or a charity of the groups choice. Do you think these would sell?
What other tag lines do you guys hold in high esteem?
Jackylhunter
First Post
CTSparky said:
I'd buy several, (as long as Spyscribe and Fajitas (and their group) give their Ok). Pimp the gnome for Justice indeed...=)
spyscribe
First Post
CTSparky said:
Wow... What a fun idea. Tell you what, drop me an email through the boards (click on my name at left and select "send spyscribe an email" and let me know what you've got in mind. We'll see if we can't work something out.
Also, for everyone going to GenCon or Comic-Con (next weekend!). Swing by the Atlas Games booth and tell "Bad Monkey" Jeff Tidball what Kettenek's Justice demands and then demand you own promotional coin for Jeff's new game Pieces of Eight. He'd love to meet you!
Gold Roger
First Post
el-remmen said:upDATE! upDATE! upDATE! upDATE!
please?
Well, maybe spyscribe will update when you update *nudge nudge*
spyscribe
First Post
Part the Two-Hundred First
In which: no one asks Eva’s opinion, but if they did, she would have a thing or two to say about Barnabus’s “test.”
(as recorded by Fajitas)
Barnabus’s grip tightens ever so slightly on his staff.
“But you did invite us!” Eva says, quickly. “You told us not to stand on formality.”
“Did I?” Barnabus says, brow furrowed.
“It was just a moment ago. When you thought we were the delivery people.”
Barnabus blinks. “Ah, yes, of course,” he says, shaking his head and relaxing his grip on the staff. “So I did. Goodness, that was a bit foolish of me in retrospect, wasn’t it? Still, I suppose it was a reasonable mistake. Especially if it’s Thursday.”
“It is not Thursday,” Reyu reminds him.
“Hmmm? What?”
The party looks askance at each other, no one quite feeling like actually getting back into it. “You are Barnabus, then?” Anvil asks.
“I am.”
“Excellent. I am Anvil the Just, Justicar of Kettenek. My companions and I have been seeking you for some time…”
Anvil proceeds to tell Barnabus the story of the Mages’ Academy and their search for a new Chancellor. He presents him with the invitation and the letters from the Temples and King of Dar Pykos. Barnabus listens politely and quickly inspects the documents.
“Do you mind if I examine these in more detail,” he asks, “to determine their authenticity?”
“By all means,” Anvil says.
Barnabus takes the documents and disappears into the other room. He is there for five minutes… then ten… then fifteen.
Finally, tired of waiting, the party casually steps into the other room.
Barnabus sits at a desk, tinkering with some strange object. The letters sit on the desk next to him. He seems to have forgotten about them.
Anvil clears his throat. Barnabus looks up. “Hmmm? What? Oh, yes, of course! Your letters. I’m sorry, I was looking for something and got distracted by this. Have you ever seen one of these? It’s a fascinating—well, never mind. Your letters. Of course. Now, what did I come in here looking for? Ah, yes. Let’s see…”
He rummages about the room, searching for something.
Eva reaches over to a shelf and picks up an old pair of spectacles.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for these?” she asks.
“The very thing. How ever did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” she mutters.
Barnabus dons the spectacles, and briefly looks quickly at the letters. He barely even reads them, just glances at them. He does stop at the invitation, however, peering quite intently at it. “Hmmm. Yes, clever,” he says. “I like the enchantment here, the one that will indicate the date that we should come to your city. Well thought out, especially since you didn’t know how long it would deliver all these invitations.”
The party says nothing. They hadn’t actually known the invitations themselves were enchanted, but now that Barnabus mentions it, it does indeed seem rather clever.
“Well, this does appear authentic,” he says, as he hands the letters back to Anvil. He does a quick double-take as he looks at the party members through his spectacles. “Ah. I see you are no strangers to enchantments yourselves. Some nice work. Nice indeed.” He glances over their magic items, quickly perusing each in turn, nodding happily.
As it becomes clear that he has forgotten they are in the midst of a conversation, Reyu gently prompts him with “So… will you be able to accept this… invitation?”
“Hmm? What invitation?”
“From the Mages’ Academy of Dar Pykos.”
“Yes, that! Hmmm. Well, there may be a bit of a problem, there. You see, I already have an arrangement with Count Agramount. I’m not sure how I’d feel about leaving him in the lurch for this.”
The party exchanges dark glances.
“How… well do you know the Count?” Reyu asks.
“Oh, well enough, I suppose. Seems a fairly charming enough fellow. He came to me, oh, a great many years ago, now. He offered me this place to live. Promised I’d have all the privacy I wanted, any food or materials I might desire. In exchange, he sends me things he’d like me to enchant for him every now and then. High quality items, I might add. Always wonderfully crafted. He comes by to visit sometimes, too. Sit around, chat. See how I’m getting on. That sort of thing.”
That gives the party pause. Reyu takes a very careful look at Barnabus with her detect magic. There are a great many auras on his person, but none of them appear to be of the enchantment school.
“The items he sends you are built by enforced labor, from master craftsmen whose families the Count holds hostage in order to ensure their cooperation,” Anvil informs him.
Barnabus looks startled by Anvil’s statement. He peers at the Justicar, first over his spectacles, then through them. “What? I hardly think that could be the case.”
“I can assure you it is. We have seen it first hand.”
“He’s never taken anyone I know hostage.”
“That’s probably because he’s not an idiot,” Eva says. “But he’s certainly deceived you about his true nature.”
“Oh, come now. Why would he do such a thing?”
“He… collects things,” Reyu explains, somewhat delicately. “Fine art, unique creatures. The things you have made for him, he surely considers a prized part of his collection. Indeed, I would not be surprised to discover that he considers… you a part of his collection yourself.”
Barnabus shakes his head. “I find that very difficult to believe. He hardly seems the type.”
“Be that as it may. The Count is a tyrant and a despot, who steals, kidnaps, and murders with impunity,” Anvil insists. “If you wish to verify my claims, I will willingly submit myself to any test you name.”
Barnabus’s eyes narrow. He glances at Anvil through the spectacles again. “Well then…” He turns and rummages around in one of the piles of junk in the room. From it, he produces a hearing trumpet. He puts it to his ear. “Very well. Tell your tale.”
Anvil tells them of their adventures through the Islands of Agramount, from their first landing on one of the islands, to the Count’s treachery and Lira’s death. As Anvil recounts their encounter with the false Barnabus, a scowl appears on the face of the real one. It grows steadily deeper the more he listens.
Finally, Anvil finishes the tale. Barnabus lowers the hearing trumpet. He seems every bit as old as he did when they entered, but the fire now in his eyes is that of a much younger man.
“It would seem,” he says, “that I have been deceived.”
“Indeed,” Anvil agrees.
“I think,” Barnabus says, after a long pause, “that I should pay a small visit to the Count.”
Eva cracks her knuckles. “Mind if we tag along?”
In which: no one asks Eva’s opinion, but if they did, she would have a thing or two to say about Barnabus’s “test.”
(as recorded by Fajitas)
Barnabus’s grip tightens ever so slightly on his staff.
“But you did invite us!” Eva says, quickly. “You told us not to stand on formality.”
“Did I?” Barnabus says, brow furrowed.
“It was just a moment ago. When you thought we were the delivery people.”
Barnabus blinks. “Ah, yes, of course,” he says, shaking his head and relaxing his grip on the staff. “So I did. Goodness, that was a bit foolish of me in retrospect, wasn’t it? Still, I suppose it was a reasonable mistake. Especially if it’s Thursday.”
“It is not Thursday,” Reyu reminds him.
“Hmmm? What?”
The party looks askance at each other, no one quite feeling like actually getting back into it. “You are Barnabus, then?” Anvil asks.
“I am.”
“Excellent. I am Anvil the Just, Justicar of Kettenek. My companions and I have been seeking you for some time…”
Anvil proceeds to tell Barnabus the story of the Mages’ Academy and their search for a new Chancellor. He presents him with the invitation and the letters from the Temples and King of Dar Pykos. Barnabus listens politely and quickly inspects the documents.
“Do you mind if I examine these in more detail,” he asks, “to determine their authenticity?”
“By all means,” Anvil says.
Barnabus takes the documents and disappears into the other room. He is there for five minutes… then ten… then fifteen.
Finally, tired of waiting, the party casually steps into the other room.
Barnabus sits at a desk, tinkering with some strange object. The letters sit on the desk next to him. He seems to have forgotten about them.
Anvil clears his throat. Barnabus looks up. “Hmmm? What? Oh, yes, of course! Your letters. I’m sorry, I was looking for something and got distracted by this. Have you ever seen one of these? It’s a fascinating—well, never mind. Your letters. Of course. Now, what did I come in here looking for? Ah, yes. Let’s see…”
He rummages about the room, searching for something.
Eva reaches over to a shelf and picks up an old pair of spectacles.
“I don’t suppose you’re looking for these?” she asks.
“The very thing. How ever did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” she mutters.
Barnabus dons the spectacles, and briefly looks quickly at the letters. He barely even reads them, just glances at them. He does stop at the invitation, however, peering quite intently at it. “Hmmm. Yes, clever,” he says. “I like the enchantment here, the one that will indicate the date that we should come to your city. Well thought out, especially since you didn’t know how long it would deliver all these invitations.”
The party says nothing. They hadn’t actually known the invitations themselves were enchanted, but now that Barnabus mentions it, it does indeed seem rather clever.
“Well, this does appear authentic,” he says, as he hands the letters back to Anvil. He does a quick double-take as he looks at the party members through his spectacles. “Ah. I see you are no strangers to enchantments yourselves. Some nice work. Nice indeed.” He glances over their magic items, quickly perusing each in turn, nodding happily.
As it becomes clear that he has forgotten they are in the midst of a conversation, Reyu gently prompts him with “So… will you be able to accept this… invitation?”
“Hmm? What invitation?”
“From the Mages’ Academy of Dar Pykos.”
“Yes, that! Hmmm. Well, there may be a bit of a problem, there. You see, I already have an arrangement with Count Agramount. I’m not sure how I’d feel about leaving him in the lurch for this.”
The party exchanges dark glances.
“How… well do you know the Count?” Reyu asks.
“Oh, well enough, I suppose. Seems a fairly charming enough fellow. He came to me, oh, a great many years ago, now. He offered me this place to live. Promised I’d have all the privacy I wanted, any food or materials I might desire. In exchange, he sends me things he’d like me to enchant for him every now and then. High quality items, I might add. Always wonderfully crafted. He comes by to visit sometimes, too. Sit around, chat. See how I’m getting on. That sort of thing.”
That gives the party pause. Reyu takes a very careful look at Barnabus with her detect magic. There are a great many auras on his person, but none of them appear to be of the enchantment school.
“The items he sends you are built by enforced labor, from master craftsmen whose families the Count holds hostage in order to ensure their cooperation,” Anvil informs him.
Barnabus looks startled by Anvil’s statement. He peers at the Justicar, first over his spectacles, then through them. “What? I hardly think that could be the case.”
“I can assure you it is. We have seen it first hand.”
“He’s never taken anyone I know hostage.”
“That’s probably because he’s not an idiot,” Eva says. “But he’s certainly deceived you about his true nature.”
“Oh, come now. Why would he do such a thing?”
“He… collects things,” Reyu explains, somewhat delicately. “Fine art, unique creatures. The things you have made for him, he surely considers a prized part of his collection. Indeed, I would not be surprised to discover that he considers… you a part of his collection yourself.”
Barnabus shakes his head. “I find that very difficult to believe. He hardly seems the type.”
“Be that as it may. The Count is a tyrant and a despot, who steals, kidnaps, and murders with impunity,” Anvil insists. “If you wish to verify my claims, I will willingly submit myself to any test you name.”
Barnabus’s eyes narrow. He glances at Anvil through the spectacles again. “Well then…” He turns and rummages around in one of the piles of junk in the room. From it, he produces a hearing trumpet. He puts it to his ear. “Very well. Tell your tale.”
Anvil tells them of their adventures through the Islands of Agramount, from their first landing on one of the islands, to the Count’s treachery and Lira’s death. As Anvil recounts their encounter with the false Barnabus, a scowl appears on the face of the real one. It grows steadily deeper the more he listens.
Finally, Anvil finishes the tale. Barnabus lowers the hearing trumpet. He seems every bit as old as he did when they entered, but the fire now in his eyes is that of a much younger man.
“It would seem,” he says, “that I have been deceived.”
“Indeed,” Anvil agrees.
“I think,” Barnabus says, after a long pause, “that I should pay a small visit to the Count.”
Eva cracks her knuckles. “Mind if we tag along?”
