Thorntangle
First Post
Old one, I think you need a copyright lawyer quick 
Maybe you should shop for a publisher. I'd buy your campaign setting.
Maybe you should shop for a publisher. I'd buy your campaign setting.
Against the Shadow V - A Faded Glory Story Hour
Lazybones
Adventurer
Old One,
Just finished reading the story hour on the AtS-IV thread, and I wanted to chime in with my praise. Your world is well realized and I like the integration of Roman elements (I used to teach Western Civ, and have always been fascinated by that period of history). As a DM, I like the way that you let the dice "fall as they may" and the way that you were able to keep the players on the edge of their seats through several encounters. After their horrible initial run of luck, it must have been quite satisfying to finally defeat that gnoll warband with a combination of good tactics and good fortune.
Looking forward to further updates,
Lazybones
Just finished reading the story hour on the AtS-IV thread, and I wanted to chime in with my praise. Your world is well realized and I like the integration of Roman elements (I used to teach Western Civ, and have always been fascinated by that period of history). As a DM, I like the way that you let the dice "fall as they may" and the way that you were able to keep the players on the edge of their seats through several encounters. After their horrible initial run of luck, it must have been quite satisfying to finally defeat that gnoll warband with a combination of good tactics and good fortune.
Looking forward to further updates,
Lazybones
If Only I Could Take All the Credit...
A number of the place-names IMC - Oar, Jewel Cities, Roses, Lords, Plains of Aresh - come from Glen Cook's Black Company series. I am actually in the process of creating back-up names for everything, just in case I decide to "do something" with the setting at some point!
Old One
PS - Definitely drop me a line when you get back to the east coast...south Jersey isn't too far away!
WSmith said:Thanks, Old One and Oberton.
I should be back east in the summer, June-July.
The other thing I like about FG are the names. Monrovian Highlands, Osirion, Oar, the Sythian Federation, I would love to steal the names, but can't bring myself to have them part the FG setting. I might just have to steal the whole setting.
A number of the place-names IMC - Oar, Jewel Cities, Roses, Lords, Plains of Aresh - come from Glen Cook's Black Company series. I am actually in the process of creating back-up names for everything, just in case I decide to "do something" with the setting at some point
!Old One
PS - Definitely drop me a line when you get back to the east coast...south Jersey isn't too far away!
Thanks!
I would actually love to get together with the DM of the "Sadly on Hiatus" Byzantium on the Shannon Story Hour and create something...the depth and flavor of that world is truly amazing (IMHO)!
The thought has actually crossed my mind (especially when I am having a bad day at work), but I have no time as it is now!
~ Old One
Thorntangle said:Old one, I think you need a copyright lawyer quick
Maybe you should shop for a publisher. I'd buy your campaign setting.
I would actually love to get together with the DM of the "Sadly on Hiatus" Byzantium on the Shannon Story Hour and create something...the depth and flavor of that world is truly amazing (IMHO)!
The thought has actually crossed my mind (especially when I am having a bad day at work), but I have no time as it is now
!~ Old One
Thanks for the Kind Words!
Lazybones -
Thanks for dropping by! I am going to try to get an update done before our game on Sunday...we'll see! I graduated with a dual major - Engineering and History - so the Romans are right up my alley!
I actually thought they were going to get crushed by the gnoll warband, but a combination of very good tactics and substantial luck helped them through. I was glad to see them get a clear-cut victory after several turns of bad luck. Oh well, that just means harder challenges ahead!
~ Old One
Lazybones said:
Lazybones -
Thanks for dropping by! I am going to try to get an update done before our game on Sunday...we'll see
! I graduated with a dual major - Engineering and History - so the Romans are right up my alley!I actually thought they were going to get crushed by the gnoll warband, but a combination of very good tactics and substantial luck helped them through. I was glad to see them get a clear-cut victory after several turns of bad luck. Oh well, that just means harder challenges ahead!
~ Old One
Pillars of Hercules
First Post
Official Notice
Ahem, I have been reminded by the Lamp Lighter's Local # 401 that I have not delivered praise to this story hour in over 30 days.
I hereby officially prostrate myself before the wonder that is Old One's world and his long-suffering but finally rewarded players. This is great stuff.
Oh, and PS, I would also pay good money for this campaign setting.
Ahem, I have been reminded by the Lamp Lighter's Local # 401 that I have not delivered praise to this story hour in over 30 days.
I hereby officially prostrate myself before the wonder that is Old One's world and his long-suffering but finally rewarded players. This is great stuff.
Oh, and PS, I would also pay good money for this campaign setting.
Session 13 (Part One)
When we last left our intrepid band, they had rescued the hapless Lew from the clutches of the infirm and the crippled! They had also unloaded some magical loot for a hefty sum of money and received a note from Drusilla requesting a meeting for later that night.
Go to Sleep, Go to Sleep, Go to Sleep Little Adventurers
Following the delivery of the note from Drusilla, a brief discussion ensued over the wisdom going to meet her, but the party quickly decided they had little choice. They spent the rest of the afternoon buying new gear and they all decided to purchase riding horses to make the return trip to Glynden quicker and more comfortable. It took sometime to locate a reputable stockman, but several hours and over 5,000 denarii later; the party was the proud owners of five reasonably sturdy mounts, complete with tack.
(DM’s Note: The stirrup does not yet exist IMC – at least not in this area. Before the players bought the horses, I explained that the lack of a stirrup meant increased DCs on riding checks. My brave players were undeterred and went ahead with their purchase!)
They could not take the horses through the postern gate, so they entered the Cathedral grounds in ones and twos to avoid much commotion. They located Viato and he stabled their mounts alongside Pratto the Mule. They did have to go back out and purchase feed and straw, since the Cathedral had none.
They ate a quick meal, Lew prayed in the Chapel for a short time and they stashed most of their money in the guesthouse. After checking their equipment, drawing whetstones across sword and axe blade and tightening cuirass straps, they set off for the Dock Quarter two hours before their appointed meeting time with Drusilla. They found the wharf-front crowded with a multitude of farmers and tradesmen capping off a Marktday visit to the city with a trip through the seedy waterside establishments. They sidestepped several brawls between farmers and dockhands and avoided confrontations of “Reds” and “Greens”.
They wandered through the multitude of alleys and back streets in the Quarter in seemingly random fashion, taking in the sights and seeking to avoid the smells. Their true aim, however, was to carefully check behind and around them to see if they were being followed. Their caution bore fruit as they noticed an unshaven man with oily brown hair, dressed in a threadbare tunic who was paying them an unhealthy amount of attention.
Every time they looked towards him, he ducked his head and stepped around a corner or into the shadow of a doorway. Quintus quickly tired of the game and actually waved the man over to them the next time they made eye contact. The man’s eyes widened in surprise and he quickly ran to the nearest alley! Quintus smirked and shook his head, ‘Amateur!’
About ½ a turn of the hourglass before their rendezvous time, they got specific directions to the Lusty Whale Tavern and slowly made their way toward the appointed place. The tavern was located in a cul d’sac at the end of Dead Rat Alley, a narrow street that wound through the worst neighborhood the party had yet seen.
Dead Rat Alley deposited the party into an oval-shaped open area approximately 75 paces wide and 50 paces across. Three 3-story building were directly opposite the alley-mouth and all three were clearly taverns, as loud music and bawdy jests floated from the porches of each. The left-most building of the three bore an oversized sign of a carved whale, mouth open and tongue lolling out in an obscene leer. An enormous phallus lit with magical light complemented the carving – this was clearly the Lusty Whale.
The ubiquitous magical light poles that graced the rest of the city had been decapitated here, leaving only lightless stumps. A jumble of rickety tables, chairs and stools filled the open area and smoky tiki-torches were randomly scattered throughout. Many of the seats were filled with raw-boned farmers and weathered sailors who vied for the attention of slatternly serving wenches. The mixed aroma of unwashed bodies, stale beer and cheap perfume threatened to overwhelm the party’s olfactory senses as they observed the poor-man’s beer garden.
Several narrow alleys radiated out from the open space like the spokes of a wheel. Crumbling tenements – most three or four stories tall – flanked the alleys and ringed the entire area. Behind the taverns rose the western wall of Oar. “Great place for an ambush,” Rowan said in a quiet voice.
The others nodded in mute agreement and exchanged worried looks. They noted that the colors of both the “Greens” and the “Reds” were sprinkled throughout the area, but most patrons seemed much more intent on getting drunk than discussing politics. Rapid whispers followed as they quickly laid out a course of action.
They decided to have Quintus and Rowan enter the Lusty Whale while the rest moved to the alley mouth to the left of their current position for better line of sight. Rosë, Sextus and Lew would wait there until signaled for or until trouble started. Quintus took a deep breath, nodded at Rowan and the pair made their way through the throng and into the tavern.
Lew felt himself sweating profusely as the gripped his stave. ‘How could people live like this?’ He thought to himself. ‘They have no faith in the light and no knowledge of the Lightbringer!’
Sextus’ elbow nudged him in the ribs, shaking him from his reverie. “Look!”
At the far end of the alley they stood in, they could make out the dim form of the man who had been following them earlier. “When he ducks around the corner again, I am going to run down there and get him!” Sextus said quietly, excitement evident in his voice.
Lew nodded hesitantly, unsure if that was a good idea and the barbarian grunted non-commitally. A moment later, the head disappeared and Sextus sprang lightly down the alley.
Inside the tavern, Rowan and Quintus found a dozen shabbily dressed patrons, a serving woman with tired eyes and drooping bosom and a lean, hard-eyed barkeep that spit into a tankard and wiped it out with a dirty rag as they approached. “What’ll it be?”
The barkeep’s flat voice bore no hint of friendliness. Quintus regarded him evenly, returning his stare with aplomb. “Two ales, if you please.”
The barkeep held Quintus’ eyes for a moment longer, snorted something akin to a laugh and drew two dark ales from the tap. Quintus noted with disdain that his tankard was the one the man had been cleaning when they walked in. The two companions huddled together at the bar, pretending to drink their ales and glancing about. Quintus estimated that it was five or so turns of the minute glass before their appointed meeting time.
Outside, Lew watched Sextus bound off through the fading light and then caught another elbow in the ribs, this time from Rosë. The Brigante tossed his head skyward as the priest looked at him. Following his gaze, Lew’s heart caught in his throat as he saw several shadowy forms moving about on the rooftops above them. He caught the glint of light of metal from the tiki-torches below. “By Osirian’s light! Quickly, get Rowan and Quintus while I get Sextus!”
The barbarian grunted his assent, hefted his axe and started trotting towards the Lusty Whale. Without looking back, Lew sprinted down the alley, hissing Sextus’ name. Rosë had not gone a dozen paces when a figure on one of the rooftops spoke soft words of power and made a series of complex hand motions. The mighty barbarian felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him and he slumped to the ground, fast asleep. Half-a-dozen patrons around him likewise slumped into arcane slumber. Gray-cloaked men emerged from the shadows, disarmed the barbarian and expertly manacled his hands behind his back within the space of a few heartbeats.
Sextus reached the end of the alley and found himself on the wharf-front. There was no sign of the scruffy man, so he turned to rejoin his companions and collided with Lew. “Men on the rooftops with weapons,” Lew tried to force himself to stay calm but could not!
Without discussion, the pair sprinted back down the alley, drawing weapons as they ran.
Within the Lusty Whale it was quiet. ‘Too quiet,’ thought Rowan, ‘something is afoot.’
The ranger pushed away from the bar and turned to where he could see the entire room. The patrons that were there when they had entered were still there, the serving woman still looked tired and worn-out and the barkeep still looked mean. Rowan’s hand dropped involuntarily to the comforting hilt of the Old Man’s sword. Beside him, Quintus continued to stare ahead
Lew and Sextus reached the mouth of the alley and paused. They saw no sign of Rosë, but a small crowd of people had gathered to look at several people that were slumped at their tables. They moved forward cautiously, and then a curtain of blackness slid over their minds and they both slumped to the cobblestones, asleep!
More men clad in gray appeared and trussed the pair up with quiet efficiency. As the second pair of manacles was slapped into place, the heel of one of the gray-clad men connected with Sextus’ forehead with enough force to jar the bard awake. He found himself face down on the slimy cobblestones, hands bound and body gripped by several strong hands. Some manner of cover or bag was over his head, for he could see nothing and his own breath echoed loudly in his ears. He carefully turned his head to the side, inhaled slowly and bellowed, “Q-q-q-uintus-s-s!”
Sextus started to draw a second breath when something hard and unyielding crashed into the back of his head. A moment of blinding pain transitioned once again into blackness as the diminutive bard went limp.
A score of onlookers watched mutely as the men in gray hefted two more limp forms and started heading toward a door in one of the tenements.
Rowan’s sharp ears picked up a faint cry from outside. ‘Was that Sextus?’ He thought to himself as he moved forward the entrance of the Lusty Whale.
He immediately noticed the beer garden was deathly silent and that a semi-circle of people was crowded around the mouth of the alley where they had left the others. Rowan drew his sword and bounded down the steps. As his foot touched the bottom step, he caught movement into the shadows to his right. He had less than a grain to think about who or what it was before he pitched forward onto the ground, snoring softly.
Less than a minute later, the gray-cloaked men and the unconscious forms of Lew, Sextus and Rowan were gone and silence reigned supreme in the once boisterous beer garden!
Quintus was vaguely aware that Rowan had left his side, but he was trying to calm his nerves about the impending meeting. Without turning to look for the ranger, Quintus motioned the barkeep over and said softly, “I am seeking the Lady in Blue”.
The barkeep’s slightly raised eyebrow was the only reaction. He continued to “clean” the tankard in his hand and jerked his head to Quintus’ right. “End of the bar, through the curtain, down the hall, first door on the right.”
Quintus nodded his thanks and dropped a solidus on the bar. He strode off with a false confidence that belied his misgivings. He passed through the curtain, walked down the hallway and stopped before the door. Taking a deep breath, he rapped sharply on the door. “Enter,” called a feminine voice from within.
Quintus pushed the door open and saw a dimly lit room. A round table occupied the center of the room, surrounded by four chairs. Three of the chairs were occupied by heavily cloaked figures, whose darkened cowls turned towards the sorcerer as he entered. The door swung shut behind him.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 13 (Part Two) – Another Pit
(DM's Note: The DC for the Sleep spell was 13 and all four of them failed it! We had a bit of a mix-up, since I thougt Rowan had told Quintus where he was going and I was amazed that he just stood at the bar and did nothing. We then sorted out that Rowan hadn't said anything (Quintus failed his Listen check to hear Sextus) and good RPer that Corey is, he just waited for his meeting!)
~ Old One
When we last left our intrepid band, they had rescued the hapless Lew from the clutches of the infirm and the crippled! They had also unloaded some magical loot for a hefty sum of money and received a note from Drusilla requesting a meeting for later that night.
Go to Sleep, Go to Sleep, Go to Sleep Little Adventurers
Following the delivery of the note from Drusilla, a brief discussion ensued over the wisdom going to meet her, but the party quickly decided they had little choice. They spent the rest of the afternoon buying new gear and they all decided to purchase riding horses to make the return trip to Glynden quicker and more comfortable. It took sometime to locate a reputable stockman, but several hours and over 5,000 denarii later; the party was the proud owners of five reasonably sturdy mounts, complete with tack.
(DM’s Note: The stirrup does not yet exist IMC – at least not in this area. Before the players bought the horses, I explained that the lack of a stirrup meant increased DCs on riding checks. My brave players were undeterred and went ahead with their purchase!)
They could not take the horses through the postern gate, so they entered the Cathedral grounds in ones and twos to avoid much commotion. They located Viato and he stabled their mounts alongside Pratto the Mule. They did have to go back out and purchase feed and straw, since the Cathedral had none.
They ate a quick meal, Lew prayed in the Chapel for a short time and they stashed most of their money in the guesthouse. After checking their equipment, drawing whetstones across sword and axe blade and tightening cuirass straps, they set off for the Dock Quarter two hours before their appointed meeting time with Drusilla. They found the wharf-front crowded with a multitude of farmers and tradesmen capping off a Marktday visit to the city with a trip through the seedy waterside establishments. They sidestepped several brawls between farmers and dockhands and avoided confrontations of “Reds” and “Greens”.
They wandered through the multitude of alleys and back streets in the Quarter in seemingly random fashion, taking in the sights and seeking to avoid the smells. Their true aim, however, was to carefully check behind and around them to see if they were being followed. Their caution bore fruit as they noticed an unshaven man with oily brown hair, dressed in a threadbare tunic who was paying them an unhealthy amount of attention.
Every time they looked towards him, he ducked his head and stepped around a corner or into the shadow of a doorway. Quintus quickly tired of the game and actually waved the man over to them the next time they made eye contact. The man’s eyes widened in surprise and he quickly ran to the nearest alley! Quintus smirked and shook his head, ‘Amateur!’
About ½ a turn of the hourglass before their rendezvous time, they got specific directions to the Lusty Whale Tavern and slowly made their way toward the appointed place. The tavern was located in a cul d’sac at the end of Dead Rat Alley, a narrow street that wound through the worst neighborhood the party had yet seen.
Dead Rat Alley deposited the party into an oval-shaped open area approximately 75 paces wide and 50 paces across. Three 3-story building were directly opposite the alley-mouth and all three were clearly taverns, as loud music and bawdy jests floated from the porches of each. The left-most building of the three bore an oversized sign of a carved whale, mouth open and tongue lolling out in an obscene leer. An enormous phallus lit with magical light complemented the carving – this was clearly the Lusty Whale.
The ubiquitous magical light poles that graced the rest of the city had been decapitated here, leaving only lightless stumps. A jumble of rickety tables, chairs and stools filled the open area and smoky tiki-torches were randomly scattered throughout. Many of the seats were filled with raw-boned farmers and weathered sailors who vied for the attention of slatternly serving wenches. The mixed aroma of unwashed bodies, stale beer and cheap perfume threatened to overwhelm the party’s olfactory senses as they observed the poor-man’s beer garden.
Several narrow alleys radiated out from the open space like the spokes of a wheel. Crumbling tenements – most three or four stories tall – flanked the alleys and ringed the entire area. Behind the taverns rose the western wall of Oar. “Great place for an ambush,” Rowan said in a quiet voice.
The others nodded in mute agreement and exchanged worried looks. They noted that the colors of both the “Greens” and the “Reds” were sprinkled throughout the area, but most patrons seemed much more intent on getting drunk than discussing politics. Rapid whispers followed as they quickly laid out a course of action.
They decided to have Quintus and Rowan enter the Lusty Whale while the rest moved to the alley mouth to the left of their current position for better line of sight. Rosë, Sextus and Lew would wait there until signaled for or until trouble started. Quintus took a deep breath, nodded at Rowan and the pair made their way through the throng and into the tavern.
Lew felt himself sweating profusely as the gripped his stave. ‘How could people live like this?’ He thought to himself. ‘They have no faith in the light and no knowledge of the Lightbringer!’
Sextus’ elbow nudged him in the ribs, shaking him from his reverie. “Look!”
At the far end of the alley they stood in, they could make out the dim form of the man who had been following them earlier. “When he ducks around the corner again, I am going to run down there and get him!” Sextus said quietly, excitement evident in his voice.
Lew nodded hesitantly, unsure if that was a good idea and the barbarian grunted non-commitally. A moment later, the head disappeared and Sextus sprang lightly down the alley.
Inside the tavern, Rowan and Quintus found a dozen shabbily dressed patrons, a serving woman with tired eyes and drooping bosom and a lean, hard-eyed barkeep that spit into a tankard and wiped it out with a dirty rag as they approached. “What’ll it be?”
The barkeep’s flat voice bore no hint of friendliness. Quintus regarded him evenly, returning his stare with aplomb. “Two ales, if you please.”
The barkeep held Quintus’ eyes for a moment longer, snorted something akin to a laugh and drew two dark ales from the tap. Quintus noted with disdain that his tankard was the one the man had been cleaning when they walked in. The two companions huddled together at the bar, pretending to drink their ales and glancing about. Quintus estimated that it was five or so turns of the minute glass before their appointed meeting time.
Outside, Lew watched Sextus bound off through the fading light and then caught another elbow in the ribs, this time from Rosë. The Brigante tossed his head skyward as the priest looked at him. Following his gaze, Lew’s heart caught in his throat as he saw several shadowy forms moving about on the rooftops above them. He caught the glint of light of metal from the tiki-torches below. “By Osirian’s light! Quickly, get Rowan and Quintus while I get Sextus!”
The barbarian grunted his assent, hefted his axe and started trotting towards the Lusty Whale. Without looking back, Lew sprinted down the alley, hissing Sextus’ name. Rosë had not gone a dozen paces when a figure on one of the rooftops spoke soft words of power and made a series of complex hand motions. The mighty barbarian felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him and he slumped to the ground, fast asleep. Half-a-dozen patrons around him likewise slumped into arcane slumber. Gray-cloaked men emerged from the shadows, disarmed the barbarian and expertly manacled his hands behind his back within the space of a few heartbeats.
Sextus reached the end of the alley and found himself on the wharf-front. There was no sign of the scruffy man, so he turned to rejoin his companions and collided with Lew. “Men on the rooftops with weapons,” Lew tried to force himself to stay calm but could not!
Without discussion, the pair sprinted back down the alley, drawing weapons as they ran.
Within the Lusty Whale it was quiet. ‘Too quiet,’ thought Rowan, ‘something is afoot.’
The ranger pushed away from the bar and turned to where he could see the entire room. The patrons that were there when they had entered were still there, the serving woman still looked tired and worn-out and the barkeep still looked mean. Rowan’s hand dropped involuntarily to the comforting hilt of the Old Man’s sword. Beside him, Quintus continued to stare ahead
Lew and Sextus reached the mouth of the alley and paused. They saw no sign of Rosë, but a small crowd of people had gathered to look at several people that were slumped at their tables. They moved forward cautiously, and then a curtain of blackness slid over their minds and they both slumped to the cobblestones, asleep!
More men clad in gray appeared and trussed the pair up with quiet efficiency. As the second pair of manacles was slapped into place, the heel of one of the gray-clad men connected with Sextus’ forehead with enough force to jar the bard awake. He found himself face down on the slimy cobblestones, hands bound and body gripped by several strong hands. Some manner of cover or bag was over his head, for he could see nothing and his own breath echoed loudly in his ears. He carefully turned his head to the side, inhaled slowly and bellowed, “Q-q-q-uintus-s-s!”
Sextus started to draw a second breath when something hard and unyielding crashed into the back of his head. A moment of blinding pain transitioned once again into blackness as the diminutive bard went limp.
A score of onlookers watched mutely as the men in gray hefted two more limp forms and started heading toward a door in one of the tenements.
Rowan’s sharp ears picked up a faint cry from outside. ‘Was that Sextus?’ He thought to himself as he moved forward the entrance of the Lusty Whale.
He immediately noticed the beer garden was deathly silent and that a semi-circle of people was crowded around the mouth of the alley where they had left the others. Rowan drew his sword and bounded down the steps. As his foot touched the bottom step, he caught movement into the shadows to his right. He had less than a grain to think about who or what it was before he pitched forward onto the ground, snoring softly.
Less than a minute later, the gray-cloaked men and the unconscious forms of Lew, Sextus and Rowan were gone and silence reigned supreme in the once boisterous beer garden!
Quintus was vaguely aware that Rowan had left his side, but he was trying to calm his nerves about the impending meeting. Without turning to look for the ranger, Quintus motioned the barkeep over and said softly, “I am seeking the Lady in Blue”.
The barkeep’s slightly raised eyebrow was the only reaction. He continued to “clean” the tankard in his hand and jerked his head to Quintus’ right. “End of the bar, through the curtain, down the hall, first door on the right.”
Quintus nodded his thanks and dropped a solidus on the bar. He strode off with a false confidence that belied his misgivings. He passed through the curtain, walked down the hallway and stopped before the door. Taking a deep breath, he rapped sharply on the door. “Enter,” called a feminine voice from within.
Quintus pushed the door open and saw a dimly lit room. A round table occupied the center of the room, surrounded by four chairs. Three of the chairs were occupied by heavily cloaked figures, whose darkened cowls turned towards the sorcerer as he entered. The door swung shut behind him.
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 13 (Part Two) – Another Pit
(DM's Note: The DC for the Sleep spell was 13 and all four of them failed it! We had a bit of a mix-up, since I thougt Rowan had told Quintus where he was going and I was amazed that he just stood at the bar and did nothing. We then sorted out that Rowan hadn't said anything (Quintus failed his Listen check to hear Sextus) and good RPer that Corey is, he just waited for his meeting!)
~ Old One
Last edited:
MavrickWeirdo
First Post
Re: Session 13 (Part One)
They may want to consider Handle Animal skill as well, to try to keep the horses from running away during battle.
They have been Agated! (The closest equivalent to Shang-hai I could find.)
Old One said:
They may want to consider Handle Animal skill as well, to try to keep the horses from running away during battle.
They have been Agated! (The closest equivalent to Shang-hai I could find.)
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