(5.5e PBP) Red Wizards' Gambit (IC) Gr2

[FitzTheRuke]

Quicklinks:
RG Character Thread
OOC Discussion Thread

Red Wizard's Gambit: Introduction.
Location: Immilmar, Rashemen, 1501 DR.

Alone or in groups, several Adventurers recently arrived in the capital city of Rashemen: Immilmar, the seat of power for the nation's Iron Lord. Beyond its political importance as the heart of Rashemen, it was perhaps most famous for its great crafters, whose goods were renowned across the Unapproachable East and the Cold Lands. On a hill overlooking Immilmar was the Lord's citadel, built with the help of the mighty Wychlaran. Around the keep was the heart of Immilmar, comprised of stone buildings that were only found in the country's largest cities.

While the city's sprawl bustled with the stone and iron industry for which the city was famous, it was a charming part of the city that was highlighted by footpaths that wound around hills emerging with saplings. The homes that were built on and around these hills were constructed like those found throughout the rest of Rashemen: wood-and-stone lodges that featured steep-sloped roofs.

The waterfront on the western side of the city overlooked the great Lake Ashane, a cold and misty expanse that was always active with fishers and other boat-faring folk.

While Immilmar and the entire nation of Rashemen were ruled by the Iron Lord, known by Rashemaar as the Huhrong, the true power was held by the Wychlaran. It was by their permission that the great warrior-rulers were able to wield their power.

Merchants and traders from Thesk and the Cold Lands regularly traveled throughout Immilmar, selling wares and goods from their respective homelands. Foreigner traders would usually stay at Blackstone House, the finest inn. While traders and fisherman from nearby Rashemi villages who had come to the city to earn their keep would frequent the Guardian Witch, a cozy local inn.

Trade was overseen by the Carvers' Hall, the guildhouse of the city's skilled artisans. The bustling covered City Market was where anyone could buy local goods or products imported from outlanders. Worship could be found at the House of Bhalla, a longhouse and walled garden dedicated to Bhalla, the Rashemi name for the Earthmother, Chauntea.

Each Adventurer gathered their bearings, their wits, and their allies, with an unknown but exciting future ahead.

GM: Group 2: @Eyes of Nine, @Leatherhead, @Mulciber, @Tonguez Please introduce your characters to the city, and perhaps each-other if you like, and I will speak of their mission next post.

 

[Eyes of Nine]

Sarrakk stepped off the galley and breathed deeply. Ahh, Immilmar. Smelled like it had when he was a callow youth - of power, of garlic, and of something a bit more... earthy. It didn't smell much like home anymore. A decade in Calmishan learning the ways of the Genies had changed the way he perceived the framework of power. And now, he was here, on behalf of Order of the Noble Genies. Called by the Wychlaran for aid, although the letter of invitation was vague; and his meeting with his mentor before departure also scant in detail. Not much more than "You know their ways there - you will be able to be effective immediately. Represent Calimshan well - return with information and stories - and bring no shame to our Order. You can do it, you must do it, and you will do it."

No matter, with the quickness of air, the balance of earth, the resilience of water, and the strength of fire, he would find a way to serve. And if he encountered the ashes of his old life while here? Well, he'd have to find a way to create something new out of it.

He made his way towards Blackstone House, to find lodging. The last time he was in the city, his lodgings were much more humble, although for a Rashemi Wanderer, a straw bed at the Guardian Witch was a luxury. Now, after the silken pillows of the barracks in Calimshan, he thought to some of his superiors, perhaps even the Blackstone House may appear shabby. A flash of shame went through him, for what he wasn't sure.

On his way, he made the obeisance at the temple of Bhalla. Modified with the 4-element twist of a breath of air on a pinch of soil between his spit moistened fingers and then the snap of fire as he snapped his fingers, all before he began to pray. Bhalla, or Chauntea as she was called in Calimshan, was one of the patrons of his order - for the farms did not prosper without ALL of the elements working in harmony. He continued on, and quickly came to the front door of Blackstone House. The footman out front straightened up, recognizing something in Sarrakk.

Sarrakk tried to stand straight himself, although he found it uncomfortable instead of his usual slouch. But "Bring no shame to our Order" echoing in his mind, he straightened his tabard with the 4-colored circle emblazoned on it, adjusted his pack, and entered the inn.

 

[Leatherhead]

Spoiler: Mortimer: Group 2

Mortimer AC:16 HP:21/21 HD:3/3 PP:13 Spells 1 (3/3), JtL: 3/3, TM 3/3, Kfapl 2/2, Spd.30'

Spoiler: Cecile: Group 2

Cecile AC:13 HP:20/20 HD:3/3 PP:10 Spd.30'

A dour young man with a scarred face, accompanied by a pale masked maidservant, disembark from the ship. The boy takes a swig out of a flask while the maid carries all of their possessions in a large heavy pack. "Finally, dry land. Now you won't stumble into everyone at every, single, wave, Cecile." Mortimer says while not even looking in the direction of his companion, who gives a soft groan in acknowledgement.

The pair were already drawing stares from unsavory types. Some thinking a kid would be an easy target, some more interested in the maid. "Bit colder than they said. Not that you would mind." It would take a just a moment to orient themselves on the docks, reading the local signs. Carvers' Hall and the Market sound like good places to start looking for supplies. Mortimer was an accomplished craftsman himself. Though nobody would believe him to be more than an apprentice given his condition. As for Cecile's condition, well that's why she has the mask on. Masks are somewhat fashionable for women here in Rashemen, or at least that's what the travel guides said.

After noticing a group of travelers already heading in the direction of the Market, they moved swiftly to join them. If for no other reason than traveling in a herd would mean they were less likely to be the victims of a pickpocket. And if he looks like a kid, there is no reason to let anyone think anything else for now. Best to act the part.

They fall in line next to a gnome, one of the few times Mortimer could feel taller than someone else. "Say, Mister. What brings you to this place?"

 

[Tonguez]

Orbril y Magerat had been in Immilmar for precisely thirty three hours and seventeen minutes, and in that time had already collected three samples of moss, four different soil types, a bag of mushrooms, various interest lithologies and a piece of bone (species unidentified). He had intended to spend considerably less time getting from the western gate of Immilmar to suitable lodgings, unfortunately, Immilmar was also proving to be quite fascinating.

He was two feet and nine inches tall, just able to see over a standard human-built countertop and had wandered into the City Market, his brass-rimmed triple ocular pushed down over one eye, where he found himself in in a sumptuous banquet of scents, sights, flavours, recipes and formulations of every description including some morsels which he had not encountered before.

"This is remarkable..." the gnome noted as he sifted through the sawdust behind the woodcarvers stand "its not pure but the viscosity of these particles indicate for ironwood" he explained to a curious passerby "it can be blended with certain oils and resins to create a remarkably effective polish, with very good hardening and preservation qualities too"

Shortly after, having brushed the dusty remnants from his apron, Orbril departed the market with three packets of sawdust, a tiny sip of Jhuil,, and a warning not to scrape the edges of random merchandise without paying for them first. His reinforced leather coat consequently clinked as he walked, its numerous pockets containing phials, flasks, folded papers, forceps, chalk, lenses, two small geological hammers and several objects whose purpose would have been difficult to explain without suitable diagrams.

As a scholar, Orbril had spent many years collecting geological samples in many different lands, and since first learning of Rashemens reputation for strange spirits, ancient magic and vigorous manifestations of unusual geo-elemental inclusions he had filled several pages of notebooks with speculative hypotheses. Now he could get actual field specimens and currently was being drawn towards a patch of moss growing beside the House of Bhalla that required particularly urgent sampling.

As he snipped a bit of the moss and placed it into a suitable container, Orbrils attention was drawn to a stranger, probably Rashemi, standing before the House of Bhalla.

"Curiouser and curiouser!" the gnome remarked openly, quickly assessing the strangers stance and attire, the four colour symbol on his tabard and the way he appeared to incorporate the four elements in a sequential acknowledgement of the Earthmother - soil-moisture-breath-flame.
- was this a typical ritual of the Rashemi? he scribbled the observation into his leatherbound notebook -or a deliberate syncretism? did it indicate for foreign influence? Personal innovation? Query: Significance of sequence or possible variations - earth-fire-water-air?

By the time Sarrakk reached Blackstone House, Orbril had fallen into step some twenty feet behind him, his lack of height assisting him in finding cover from which to observe unseen. He was not following the subject of course! This was longitudinal observation and Orbril did not wish to interfere with the subject in his native environment!

The gnome observer was about to follow in to the building when an unexpected variable interposed itself with the query of ""Say, Mister. What brings you to this place?"

Orbril looked up from his notebook and blinked as he noticed the young - human? - who had fallen in beside him, then grinned happy to see another figure of reasonable height before him.
"Oh research" Orbril answered, tucking his notebook into a pocket before offering the newcomer a hand in greeting. "I'm Orbril y Magerat. Professor of Applied Alchemy and Practical Geology principally, although disciplinary boundaries have become blurred given local circumstances"

The gnomes gaze flicked from the young man's scarred face, to his his travelling clothes, and then toward the pale masked maid carrying the enormous pack. His nose twitched and an eyebrow rose quizically.

"your companion seems remarkably strong" he noted, instinctively reaching for his notebook before catching himself, still grinning "sorry, professional hazard, but possibly rude.

Anyway Rashemen presents an extraordinary opportunity to observe the interactions between overlapping geological, elemental and thaumaturgical phenomena. Understanding why the concentrations are so dense could revolutionise alchemical and arcane research for generations.

I've already managed to identify a variety of significant anomalies across the region" he beamed, as he always did when given the chance to chat about his academic passions. He was nonetheless well aware that there were two parties in any conversation.

"now what about yourself young, er- apprentice? You are a craftsman?" Orbril glanced at Mortimers hands, flicking the lens of his ocular as professional curiosity took over.

"Curiouser and curiouser." he intoned, taking another glance at the silent travelling companion carrying the heavy pack, before suddenly remembering himself

"oh sorry again" he said with an apologetically shrug "I don't make a habit of examining strangers in the street without permission" - then he looked to where Sarrakk had entered Blackstone House "well, um, not invasively..."

Spoiler: Quick Stat

Gnome Alchemist AC 14 HP 21/21 PP 12 Spd 30 Init 4 SpSlots 3/3 SDC13 Infusions 2, Elixir 1

 

[Mulciber]

Spoiler: Shen

Human lvl 3 Monk (WarriorOH) - AC:15 HP:21/21 PP:13 Spd.40' Focus points:3 [DC13], Sanctuary 1/day

Shen appears as a lithe, nimble young man in his early 20s, wearing modest grey cloth tunic and pantaloons tucked in at the ankles, with cloth shoes.

Shen wakes from his meditation, stirring gently while taking in the new sights and sounds, gathering his bearings. It's been awhile since Shen left the calm nature of his monastery, a mountain sanctuary far away from the hustle and bustle of ordinary folk. His superiors said it was time for him to enter the world again, to acquire new wisdom and personal growth.

Stepping off the boat, and noticing others having walked towards a building, He scans for a name.. silently whispering to no one "it is not well to follow those who may also be blind, falling to their fate."

"Hmm Blackstone House, The Guardian.. Witch, odd name.. but seems more my style while I figure out what drew me here."

I mosey through the market, picking up some fruit and vegetables that look familiar, stuffing in my bag while eating some fruit now to settle my stomach.

 

[Leatherhead]

Spoiler: Mortimer: Group 2

Mortimer AC:16 HP:21/21 HD:3/3 PP:13 Spells 1 (3/3), JtL: 3/3, TM 3/3, Kfapl 2/2, Spd.30'

Spoiler: Cecile: Group 2

Cecile AC:13 HP:20/20 HD:3/3 PP:10 Spd.30'

"Pleased to meet you, Professor. I'm Mortimer, and my maidservant is called Cecile. She is quite sturdy." The 'boy' responds with a grin while the maid grunts in acknowledgement. "Doesn't talk much though, on account of her condition. As for me, I am a craftsman, sent here by my friends in order to do some research of our own. Possibly on some of the same arcane situations, though I would have to get some clarification on that. You mentioned alchemy? Maybe we could spend some time later swapping recipes?"

 

[Tonguez]

"Oh a fellow practitioner of the Scholarary arts!" Orbril enthused bringing both hands up to shake Mortimers own with increased collegial vigour.
Most of the scholars and sages that Orbril knew were content to lurk in their old university libraries and dungeon laboratories. Few and far between were the adventuring field academics willing to descend in still warm lava tubes and cockatrice nest in pursuit of good specimens. Mortimers question had triggered the gnomes academic passions, his features almost glowed as he spoke, became increasingly animated with each excited word.

"I assume you are familiar with the fundamental operations and preparative work?" he asked, rhetorically, without pausing to illicit a response "organic extractions, mineral infusions, pyrogenesis, volatile transformations of essential materia...
I intend to undertake a number of extractive treatments and purifications of any interesting materials I can locate." he explained "I would be delighted to compare notes with you and perhaps get your thoughts on certain hypotheses I am developing. I'd particularly be interested in understanding of your own methodology"


"her condition?" Orbril paused as Mortimers words registered in his mind and he glanced across to the maid Cecile "oh, is it medical in nature? I may be able to assist with a useful tincture or ointment, though of course that is entirely up to the lady's discretion."

The gnomes gaze lingered for just a moment on the masked woman, curiosity plainly still bubbling away in his mind. His eyebrow twitched and he turned back toward Mortimer.

"Now! You mentioned friends sending you here to investigate something. Were you needing lodgings?" He nodded toward Blackstone House. "The gentleman I've been... er...not following per se ... appears to have his own affinities that could be of interest.

I would like to introduce myself" a thoughtful pause "It is probably less conspicuous than observing him from behind the furniture."

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Whether on the street, passing through the markets, or in the common rooms of either of the Inns, it became quickly clear to the Adventurers that they had arrived just in time for a local event: A dedication ceremony to a new town well, and it's spirit-guardian statue. Made by local master-crafters out of rare marble, it would this day be revealed and presented to the people by one of the Wychlaran, the mighty order of masked Witches which held the real power in Rashemen. They both advised and appointed the Iron Lord, and more importantly, led the spiritual practices of the people.

 

[Mulciber]

Spoiler: Shen Hu 3 Monk

WarriorOH - AC:15 HP:21/21 PP:13 Spd.40' Focus points:3 [DC13], Sanctuary 1/day

I will clean up, and inquire when these festivities will start and plan to be in attendance.

"Good sir [or madam]" addressing the inn keeper of the The Guardian Witch.

"I heard there is to be a dedication ceremony today, can you tell me when it will begin?"

 

[Leatherhead]

"'Fraid it's a far bit removed from a medical problem." Mortimer frowns. "One could call it a curse. That's part of the reason we are here, to learn some spirt magic from the Masked Witches." Forcing himself to add. "But there is always time to swap notes on methods! Do you prefer alternating or direct current for your energy source?"

The boy whistles as he sees the event unfolding in front of him. "Speaking of craftsmanship, check out the chiseling on that statue, how did they get it to look like real fur?"