D&D 5E (IC) Fitz's Folly

[MetaVoid]

"There are one hundred forty eight ssskullsss remaining in the wall."
Ussal slithers behind the rest of the group.
"Hello, Witherss. What ssspeaker? What do you do with the ssstory?"

 

[FitzTheRuke]

"I collect them for my own amusement and for posterity." answered Withers, in a tone that sounded like he thought the answer was obvious.

OOC: I should mention that Qawasha only translated the initial request, which was in old Omuan. Withers is now speaking Common.

 

[MetaVoid]

"If your massster winssss. there will be no posssterity. Only bleaknesss. I will tell you my ssstory if you tell me sssomething usseful about thiss plassse."
Ussal offers

 

[FitzTheRuke]

"Bargaining. How mercenary." the undead scribe said in a disappointed rasp, "Very well. A useful fact: The skeletons are keys."

He then stood silent, expectantly, as if that were plenty of information.

 

[MetaVoid]

"Mersssenary...well, why would we wassste time until death's curssse getsss usss if we don't get anything for that time. The time has become mossst presssiousss comodity."
He turns to the group.
"I'll tell him my ssstory. Wait for me."
Closing the door, Ussal tells of the history of yuan-ti, himself in particular, not going in details about his disability. He focuses on the death curse and it's effects on the populace.

OOC: Heavily slanted to yuan-ti point of view, obviously, and full of wrong impressions of other civilizations History: 1D20+7 = [4]+7 = 11

 

[Kobold Stew]

When it is her turn, Miss Imogen will tell a story, but while true it will be utterly inconsequential. At school, she had been taught how young ladies converse, saying everything and nothing, and while she was never inclined to enjoy such trivialities, she was very capable at them.

OOC: Performance 1d20+5=20.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The Sticks took turns telling their stories to the undead sage known as Withers. In exchange, he offered cryptic clues that made little sense, but that he assured them would become clear "in time".

When it came to Qawasha's turn, he utterly refused, saying, "This undead monstrosity admits to having betrayed his people, and us all, to gain the favour of Accererak. He calls him our 'true master' and puts him above Ubtao! I cannot abide undead, and this one is worse. I will not trade with him."

Whenever he said the word "undead" it sounded like he would rather spit. There was no moving him on the subject, and he held Weed's shoulder, as if what he chose to do went also for the vegepygmy.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Miss Imogen is embarrassed, and ashamed, when she hears Qawasha's principled stance. Had she fully been aware that this creature was undead? All is so unholy here, she just wants through, to the end. To the removal of the Curse. But she must have known.(For a moment she thinks of her uncle, and wonders what he would have advised her to do.) She regrets that she even engaged with this creature, and she is disgusted with herself.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

When Withers was told that there were no more stories for him, he was aware that the group were holding back on him. He sighed, a raspy wheeze, and said, "It is no matter. You all will surely die; sooner, rather than later. I would say 'farewell', but I would not mean it. Go now, to your doom."

He waved his hand, and the door slammed shut, leaving the Sticks in the hallway. A hissing and banging sound began down the spiral staircase, coming closer.

OOC: Do you want to: 1) Wait for whatever is coming up the stairs; 2) Go down and see what it is; 3) Head through the Skull-wall; 4) Retreat back through the smithy; 5) Something else?

 

[Prickly Pear]

Chrysagon banged his fist at the door in frustration. He had also told his story, fully aware that this creature was undead. He had wanted to see where this was going and whether they would learn anything useful but a lot of cryptic clues did not seem very valuable at all. He should have slapped the creature when he had his chance. Not hearing the banging from downstairs, he walked over to the wall of skulls and kicked it down, still angry with himself.