Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nthal" data-source="post: 7902956" data-attributes="member: 6971069">The Internal Conflict - 1/28/2020 A friend once told me, that torment for an immortal is for it to resist its nature.  The pain is strong and never ebbs.  An immortal cannot change its nature on its own, so the torment is forever. For a mortal, torment can be caused by the same thing.  Except that with great effort, a mortal can change. But the torment felt is sharper as one comes to grip with the conflict and resolves it by changing, or weathering through it.  Some don’t survive, but most do. But standing on the precipice, undecided on what path take just drags out the pain.  Most of us are just too stubborn to realize that.At first, I wondered if Iesa really knew what he was doing.  He was a city urchin at heart, and so his sudden woodsman skills made me a skeptic.  But as I watched Iesa and followed his eyes on what he was looking for, my doubts were easing.  Certainly, it helped that Ravalan’s feet were bigger than my own.  For that matter they were bigger than Daneath, and I was certain Ravalan weighed more.  So, every time he knelt to the ground and said an ‘aha,’ it became easier to see that he really was on the right track.  So, after a while I let myself drift to the back of the group.I didn’t feel like talking; in fact there was enough of that going on.  It seemed that it was impossible for Beepu and the goblins not to snipe at each other.  It went on for miles with no end in sight.  So it suited me just fine that I didn’t have to talk.  I certainly didn’t want to.What I did want was clarity.  The events from earlier had unsettled me.  Granted I worshiped a power of death and judgement.  I remembered getting funny looks about that in Sigil.  ‘Isn’t death a strange thing to worship?’ they would say.  Then I would explain that I didn’t worship death or for death.  Instead the reason I worshipped was about those things left behind.  Honoring the memories of the deceased.  Assuaging the bitter emotions of those left behind.  Especially guilt; always a bit of guilt of things said or not said.  But the actual act of death wasn’t what I revered.  I didn’t sacrifice an animal or a person like other powers demanded.  It wasn’t that kind of worship.So, it was only very recently had I actually killed anyone.  It was a gnoll outside of Triboar.  Sure, I had hurt people in self defense many times; Sigil could be a rough place, and the Hive the most dangerous place above ground.  But there, I had never actually killed anyone.  Here on the prime, I had killed dozens of creatures and beings.  And I always did feel a bit of remorse, but only well afterwards.   It stood in contrast on how different I felt during a fight.I reveled in the violence.  I thirsted for blood.  I was enthralled by it.  I craved more.And it disgusted me.  It was wrong.  Every instinct told me I shouldn’t want this; every teaching said this was a sin.  Death wasn’t a casual topic; Kelemvor’s faithful believed in staving off the end to let  the cycle complete itself naturally.   Accidents and disease were to be avoided or treated.  Violence should be avoided because it could lead to a premature end.  So what I felt was the complete opposite of what I believed, and what I wanted to uphold.  How was I better than a murderous barmy in the Gatehouse?  Could I stay in control?  Was I even in control to start with?What it reminded me of, didn’t give me any comfort either.  It reminded me of the poor in the Hive that were consumed searching for a temporary escape; be it bub or drugs.  I had seen many in that never-ending spiral in the Hive.  They might get to the Gatehouse and get a bed and a meal as a respite to their situation.  But they would leave to chase their hedonistic escape of choice.   A chase that never ended.The Society of Sensation said that chasing only pleasure wasn’t being a true Sensate and it was to be avoided.   The Society already had a bad reputation of being hedonists as it was.  First year namers would seek out pleasures first because…well they were fun and felt good.  The namers would find or throw parties to experiment and try anything they could.   But that’s just it; pleasures are easy to seek out and find. To understand the multiverse you had to experience everything and experience was more than just pleasure.  That’s why Erin Montgomery started to test new Sensates.    To weed out those who couldn’t control themselves.  Many members were sent to the Gilded Hall in Aborea when they lost that control.  Some returned, most didn’t.  Many others were told they couldn’t join…people like Markel.Markel was desperate to become someone and the Society of Sensation was his chosen path.  He would throw the parties; and many flocked to them; myself included.  He was everything I felt I wasn’t; sure of himself, attractive, and popular.  I was in love with him, and I was an eager experimenter under his sway.  So, when I took the test in the Gilded Hall under the dubious eyes of the factotum, I was fortunate. You could have called it the most excellent example of brinksmanship.  I was complemented that I could get so close to the edge and pull back.  But the reality was that I almost failed.  I don’t know how I managed to pull away; as it took everything I had to do.  But at the time I was excited and proud to be able to join, with Markel.  But Markel never even got so far to be tested; he was judged unfit beforehand.   He didn’t take that very well, and that led to…a lot of pain.  For him and for me.And now, I wondered if the test were different what would have been the outcome?  What if the test wasn’t self-restraint against pleasure, but was about violence?  Granted the Sensates were worried about the former.  For the later you just needed to look at…at…No.  I would not become her.  I was nothing like her.  She may have been everything to the Doomguard.  But she was a plague to Sigil.  To the multiverse.To me.“I will build a taller hat!  A better hat!” Beepu shouted interrupting my thoughts.“Not a hatter,” Drik said smugly.“No hatter,” Drok agreed.I had no idea how long I had been wallowing in my own insecurities.  But I felt the air had become much cooler, and sun was now low in the sky.  The trail we were following was descending out of the hills, and we were approaching the edge of a bluff, overlooking a narrow valley.  The floor was a sea of grass. Patures, and tilled fields, while on the far side was another series of hills.  A meandering river wound its way across the valley floor.  As we all approached the edge, Iesa pointed out our likely destination.“Well, look there.  A village.  And hopefully, Ravalan as well,” Iesa said pointing downwards.  The village was not large, a scattering of perhaps six buildings.  Two of them were large, perhaps a hall or an inn, with smaller dwellings nearby.  They were nestled next to the river, where a simple wooden bridge extended over it.  A wagon trail led across the bridge to the west, leading out of the valley, while the eastern leg seemed to be seldom used.  Lazy plumes of smoke drifted upwards coming from the chimneys below.“No sign of trouble,” Daneath said.  “But that probably won’t last.  We should get down there.”“And perhaps sit down for a bit.  My legs are killing me,” Beepu grumbled.  “Your pace is challenging to keep up with.”“Gnome is whiny,” Drik commented to his peer.“He should try whining to a lasher.  Then he stop,” Drok said looking at Beepu unsympathetically.“Look, I am tired, and my legs and feet hurt too,” I said, speaking before Beepu unleased whatever biting vitrol that he was about to say.  “Let’s get down there, talk to Ravalan and get some rest.”Beepu turned to me and looked like he was going to tear into me.  But he stopped himself and nodded.  “Yes.  Rest would be good.”We continued on down the bluff, following a trail that Ravalan had used.  It wasn’t long before we were walking across the wooden bridge into the village.  Up close it wasn’t much to speak of.  The wood was grey from the elements.  But it was all in good repair, with shake roofs, and windows of simple glass.  Simple and functional.  Yet looking at the doorways as we passed, there were signs of pride here and there.  Carvings on the door sills, and the doors themselves.  On the southern side stood a small chapel, with a blooming rose over a sheaf of grain, carved in oak above the door.As we moved to the center of town, we could see that there was a large throng of people, and we could hear agitated and excited voices.  The throng were gathered in a circle arguing, and I could see in the middle of it, standing head and shoulders above the villagers, was Ravalan.“Look, if it is true you must, leave.  Their numbers are too gre—” Ravalan was saying before being cut off.“—This is our home.  We will not let them take them!”“It’s not the homes they want, they want you!” Ravalan was trying to explain calmly, but he was forced to shout just to be heard.“Ravalan!  What is going on here?” Daneath yelled and strode into the group.  The villagers, surprised by the armored warrior, parted so he could approach the firbolg.“You?   What are you doing here?” Ravalan asked surprised.“We might ask you the same thing,” I said stepping forward.  “Why did you come here?”“I was told that there was a need for my aid.” Ravalan said taken aback.  “But I didn’t expect more hobgoblins.  The village has seen worg riders on the outskirts.  The hobgoblins have already captured some hunters and families on the outlying farms.”A man shouted out in response, “They didn’t just take prisoners! They smashed and burned those families homes!  But we will not run and surrender our fields.”  The man was balding with the sides of his head covered with short brown hair and his face had a thick bushy beard.  He stood there, painfully thin and gaunt.   But his posture and shoulders showed him to be as resolute as a mountain.  Around his neck, carved in wood hung the same symbol that was above the chapel.“Micah,” Ravalan turned to face the man, “Those were scouts.  A larger group is bound to come soon.  This evening most likely.”“Lasher Crusher?” Drik said looking at Drok.Drok nodded. “Lasher Crusher said to be near.  He big lasher.  Will pound people who not listen.”“Lasher Crusher?” Ravalan said puzzled.  “Who are these two?”“Recent rescues,” Iesa said smiling as Drik stood there looking around and as Drok started to pick his nose.  “We found them on the way as we searched for you.”“Searched for me?  I don’t understand, and it isn’t important.” Ravalan responded clearly distracted by the debate at hand.“I don’t know what a ‘Lasher’ is, but we will not leave these fields!” Micah said emphatically.  “The Earthmother has promised a good harvest, and we will not forsake her bounty!”“I have to agree with Ravalan,” Daneath said to Micah.  “We already have faced two dozen of the hobgoblins on the way here.  But they didn’t have worgs.  You aren’t safe here.”“We will be protected!” Micah said defiantly.“Micah,” I said gently stepping forward to look the man in the eyes.  As he gasped, I continued.  “The Earthmother has indeed blessed you, and you should feel proud.  But you must lead your flock elsewhere.”“By the gods…who are—”“A priest.  A different faith.  A different calling.” I said slowly.  “But your pow-- , um sorry goddess would want you all to live and plant more fields.”“But we must defend our homes!”“I don’t know if there will be anything left to call home,” I said calmly but firmly.“She is right,” Ravalan interjected.  “As you said, the other dwellings were destroyed.  They won’t leave anything standing, even if you do manage to fight them off.”“I...I feel we should stay and help defend our…our homes,” Micah said, tears forming in his eyes as he almost choked on the words.“Listen, I believe that the Earthmother once said; ‘Like a seed on the wind, you can travel where you need and plant the next field.’” I said remembering a passage I had heard was attributed to the power, and Micah looked at me with a pained expression.  But finally, he nodded.“Yes, I…I understand.  You are right.  But what will you do?” Micah asked looking at me and the rest of my companions.“These hobgoblins are going to be sent for judgement,” I said calmly with quiet determination.  “Lord Kelemvor takes a dim view of beings who wantonly kill those who have not yet lived to the fullness of time.  And I’m not keen on slavery.  So, I can’t say I can save your homes or the fields.  I will say they won’t be following you.”Micah nodded, “Very well.  While I cannot condone revenge, I…I can aid justice.   I have some potions that can heal wounds.  I will leave them with you so you can dispatch this menace.”“We thank you,” Iesa said I as I nodded.  “Any assistance is welcome.”“Let’s get everyone moving.  You have light and you can make some distance before they arrive,” Daneath said.“Alright everyone!” Micah raised his voice to the gather villagers.  “The Earthmother has given us a sign and some wisdom.  We must leave and take root elsewhere.  Gather what you must so we can travel tonight!”  And with that the villagers started to scatter to the various buildings.  Some were gathering horses and wagons.  There were many tears in their eyes, but I see the relief in their faces, knowing they did not need face the threat death or slavery.  Micah then led Iesa towards the chapel, to retrieve the promised potions.“Ravalan,” I said turning to the firbolg.  “Can we speak to you a moment, privately?”The firbolg nodded, and we stepped away from the village center, allowing the villagers to continue unimpeded.“Thank you Myrai for convincing them.  I have been trying all day.” Ravalan said with relief in his voice.“After what has happened in Whitepetal, I’m glad we can provide some relief.  But we have a more pressing question.  What did Paradros tell you that made you come here?”Ravalan cocked his head in surprise.  He thought a moment and slowly responded “Paradros?  Well, he said that he had heard of some sort of sickness in the village, so I came to assist.  But as it happened, no one has been ill in some time.  I found it odd but…why do you ask?”I sighed and looked at Ravalan sadly, “Because Paradros told us that he sent you here, intending that you…not survive the hobgoblins’ attack.”The firbolgs face became grim, “Are you sure?  Why would he do such a thing.”“Because you helped my father, Pachook and Umbra as well,” Beepu said a bit tersely.  “Paradros is either in league or is employed by the Kershak, and they apparently do not like people assisting their—”“—Enemies.” Daneath said simply.“All I did was guide them through the forest, and he thought to put me in danger because of that?”  Ravalan said in disbelief.  “That elf was certainly distasteful; I thought it was because of he being a typical sun elf.Why this effort?”“Because, it wasn’t all about you.” I said.  “He used you as bait, to lure us out of the Misty Forest.” And I gestured to my companions.  “But that doesn’t mean you are safe.”“I see,” he said sadly.  “this is indeed dire, and I appreciate the warning.  I am willing to stand by you if you need.”“I thank you, but it might be better if you assist Micah, and get them safely to Secomber.” I answered.“She’s right,” Daneath agreed.  “Those people need your help.  We can deal with the hobgoblins and this ‘Prophesized One’ is going to keep us busy for a while.  Once we take care of that, we can think about dealing with the Kershak.”“It seems I am in debt to you again.  I am not sure I can do much more for you beyond the message I sent to Melandrach.  But I will help these people.”“Just do that,” I said.  “They are going to need all the help they can to restart.”“I know.  Farewell Myrai.  I hope you all can end this madness.” The firbolg said.  He then strode over to the gathering group of farmers and families gathering by the bridge.It was sad to see these proud people, forced to abandon their homes.  Being transformed from farmers to refugees in a instant, at the cruel whim of the hobgoblins.  The simmering hate I had for these marauders was beginning to awaken once again.   They were no better than the Doomguard setting a fire in the Hive, just to watch it burn.As we stood there, Iesa ran back to us from the chapel, holding some glass flasks.  He started passing them out to the group and casually asked.“So…Crusher Lasher?” he looked at the goblins as he handed me a potion.  “Let me guess, big and likes to crush things?”Drik nodded with Drok.  Drik was attempting to extract something from his ear, while Drok quietly escavated the contents of his left nostril with a finger.  “He big, stupid lasher,” Drik said.  “Break things,” Drok continued. “Houses, goblins, humans, many things.  Many goblins fear him.”“And he has a pack of worgs as well it sounds,” Daneath said as he turned around looking at the village buildings.“Well, the buildings are sturdy, but we can’t really use them defensively.”“Why is that?” Beepu said surprised.  “The doors look stout enough to keep worgs out.”“Its not the worgs,” Daneath said shaking his head.  “It’s the torches.  They are likely to set them on fire, flush us out.  Plus while mounted they will have a lot of speed and nothing to slow them down.”I thought a moment and then turned to the goblins and asked, “So, how well can those worgs move while mounted?  Can they easily climb, swim or jump?”Drik and Drok frowned, their brows furrowing.  After looking at each other briefly they answered, “Run fine, but not jump.  Bad balance.  Clumsy.” Drik said, while Drok echoed “Very clumsy,”“Climb?  Getting on top of the buildings just as bad as staying inside Myr,” Daneath started.  “And I’m not swimming to get away from Worgs.”“Why even stay here?” Iesa asked looking around with disbelief.  “I mean we said it might not survive, so why defend it.”“It makes sense to stay here, only if we can put some defenses up.  But beyond flamable cover I don’t see a lot of options,” Daneath said.“Unless you have something in mind.  Do you have something in mind?”  Beepu asked, looking at me critically.I smiled, “I do.  See what you can do to make the buildings safe for us, and not for them.  Beepu, let’s get Gos and Foggle in the air and watching for friends.“And what exactly are you going to do Myr?” Beepu asked.“Start digging,” I said smiling, to the confusion of the others.Session Notes:I didn't really ever intend Myrai to be the face of the party.  That actually was supposed to be someone else that dropped out before the game started.  So, talking anyone into anything was never part of the plan.  I had cast her as a charismatic introvert.  it just worked out that when I did, it somehow worked out.By comparison, Iesa tried many times, but had neither the stats or the skills.  But he did try a lot, which made for an interesting story.But while Myrai wasn't a genius, she was smart (Int 12,) and had common sense (Wis 14).  So she tended to come up with creative solutions to problems; as we will see.</blockquote>

Verification