Kulan: Knightfall's Shackled City Legacy PbP Game [IC] (Game Cancelled)

Tellerian Hawke

Defender of Oerth
Vilmar said:
"So, this is your friend Kane, is it?" Vilmar asks quizzically. "He's not really as you described him. I was expecting someone more robust and regal, for a cleric of Jalivier."

Kane smiles, and whispers to Vilmar, "Please forgive my appearance, good sir. There are times when discreet subtlety is more appropriate than blatant straight-forwardness. This is one of those times. I didn't want to attract attention to my mission, thus, I am in disguise. I hope that our next meeting will allow me to correct your misconception of me, and make a better impression," he concludes, with a laugh and a wink.
 

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Scotley

Hero
Bravec blinks in surprise. "So some sort of goblinoid has been in here writing insults in the entrails of Helthorn beetles?" His expression clearly details his consternation. "You say there is more of this scrawl under the dock?" he asks the sail-maker. "Perhaps we should see if the writing is more profound than comments on this 'Snerk's' hygiene? If we might impose on your skill as a translator once more good Dorin?"
 

Thateous

Explorer
"Assuming it's goblinoid." He says as he copies the rest of the scrawlings in his journal. "Perhaps I could get these translated, or perhaps with a bit of research I could find out more about this places history. Maybe Snerk is a code name for someone in town and they sell Hellthorn beetle entrails as a strange delicacy. Oh man I remember the first time I smelled that beetle. Really kicks you in the face don't it?"
Dorin is silent for a moment, then opens his mouth as if to speak but then closes it again. He does this several times before finally saying, "What were we about to do again?"

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Knightfall

World of Kulan DM
Oleander and Brother Pi (cont.)

Brother Pi shakes his head. "I am no monk or cleric. Every man is my brother, and one helps his family for no other reason than it's the right thing to do."
Master Zalachia nods in understanding...

Returning his gaze to Oleander, the dwarf motions for the elf to join them.

"Come, my inquisitive friend. Care to help me solve a mystery?" Brother Pi asks with a kind smile. "Anikagar here was telling me about mysterious markings in an, err, unconventional medium..."

Pi greets the young woman with a respectful bow. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Ketisa. If you are half as perceptive as you are beautiful, your help will be of great use."
"Thank you for your kind words, Brother Pi," she replies to him as they walk to her father's shop.

A serious frown appears on Brother Pi's face as he studies the scene, leaning on his broom and occassionally sniffing the surface or scraping with his finger. Once he gets a picture of what the markings looked like, he turns to Oleander.

"Those runes are not Dwarven. Do you recognize the language?"

As if remembering suddenly, the dwarf lights up. "Apologies! I completely forgot to introduce myself. I am Brother Pi."

He extends his hand in greeting while sporting a huge grin.
"My name is Oleander. Despite being an orphan from here, I am scripted. I have some skill at deciphering and knowledge of the arcana.

Sadly, there is not enough of the markings remaining here to attempt to decipher
."
"A pleasure, Oleander."

Brother Pi goes back to studying the scene, shaking his head occassionally.

"Lass," he asks the merchant's daughter if she is still around. "You mentioned offensive imagery as well?"
"Oh yes," Ketisa replies. "It had been here," she moves to the north corner of the building. "It was... a depiction of sexual deeds by multiple persons with horns. There was also a scene of decapitation on this side. It didn't seem to depict any recognizable figure in the city." she points to the comer of the building. "It was lewd and disturbing, and it wrapped around the entire corner from here to here." She points out a 10-foot section of wall that begins in the alley and then continues on to the back of the building, facing onto Coin Street. "Despite its disturbing medium and crudeness, it was very detailed. Whoever drew it has some artistic talent, even though it was highly offensive."

Brother Pi notes that the entire area that had been vandalized was quite low to the ground. He isn't sure if Ketisa meant to point to the lower section of the building, but if she had, it meant the vandal had been short.

"I must go back to my father," Ketisa says. "I will go get Arinitam. He will be able to tell you more." She bows to Brother Pi and smiles at Oleander. Her eyes linger on him before she runs off to a back door and disappears inside.

Then, Oleander gets a whiff of something that isn't offal or lavender. It is a pungent ethereal odor and it something he knows right away -- sweet oil of vitriol. The smell is unmistakeable since it is often used by the downtrodden of the Elfwatch Ward as a way to escape the worst aspects of their lives.

OOC: Roll a Knowledge (arcana) and/or (nature) check to know more about sweet oil of vitriol.
 

MacConnell

Creator of The Untamed Wilds
...Oleander gets a whiff of something that isn't offal or lavender. It is a pungent ethereal odor and it something he knows right away -- sweet oil of vitriol. The smell is unmistakeable since it is often used by the downtrodden of the Elfwatch Ward as a way to escape the worst aspects of their lives.
Oleander takes in the scene running his left hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face.
"This is definitely ritualistic. It reminds me of something specific... horns, oil of vitriol..."
[sblock=Knowledge Arcana]Roll = Skill: 1d20+4 22[/sblock]
 

Knightfall

World of Kulan DM
Bravec, Dorin, and Kane (cont.)

Dorin pulls out a small journal and copies the crude scripts. "Ah-ha!" Several seconds pass before Dorin shares his revaluation. "Does anyone know a Snerk, because apparently he smells like beetle dung." he says straight faced. "At least that's what this scribble hear seems to say. As for the other, I am unsure. No doubt something just as lude and childish."
"I don't think so," Vilmar replies. "It's definitely not a name of anyone I've ever employed."

Kane smiles, and whispers to Vilmar, "Please forgive my appearance, good sir. There are times when discreet subtlety is more appropriate than blatant straight-forwardness. This is one of those times. I didn't want to attract attention to my mission, thus, I am in disguise. I hope that our next meeting will allow me to correct your misconception of me, and make a better impression," he concludes, with a laugh and a wink.
Vilmar seems concerned by Kane's need for discretion. "A mission! You make it sound like the sky is falling," Vilmar replies. "Is there trouble brewing in the city? Is that why you're here? Did some vile force do this," Vilmar shakes his head in confusion. "Why would evil forces be interested in me. I just make sails for local fishers working Crater Lake. Sure, I've designed a few more exotic sails but that was years ago. My hands get too sore now for me to do intricate work. Plus, the clients were a pain to deal with... always wanting updates. No, I just make simple sails now." He pauses and looks towards the nearby fishers before he speaks to Kane again quietly. "Of course, I'll help in any way I can. Cauldron is my home and I'd hate for the city to go through more troubles. People are just starting to get back to the way things were before the old disasters..." He trails off before looking at Kane with fear. "Nothing like that is going to happen is it? T-the Cagew-wrights aren't back are t-they?" The sail-maker begins to pace back and forth along the dock. "T-they can't come back," Vilmar exclaims. "We l-lost so much l-last time!"

Several of the fishers look towards him with concern.

Bravec blinks in surprise. "So some sort of goblinoid has been in here writing insults in the entrails of Helthorn beetles?" His expression clearly details his consternation.
"Assuming it's goblinoid." He says as he copies the rest of the scrawlings in his journal. "Perhaps I could get these translated, or perhaps with a bit of research I could find out more about this places history. Maybe Snerk is a code name for someone in town and they sell Hellthorn beetle entrails as a strange delicacy. Oh man I remember the first time I smelled that beetle. Really kicks you in the face don't it?"
"Eh, what? Goblins! Goblins made this mess," Vilmar looks at his shed with disgust. "A-are you sure? If so, I'll have to burn everything," he sighs. "Even if I tried to clean and fix it all, no one is going to buy it if goblins pissed everywhere!"

Several of the fishers move closer to eavesdrop. They're not very subtle about it and they begin whispering amongst themselves.

"You say there is more of this scrawl under the dock?" he asks the sail-maker. "Perhaps we should see if the writing is more profound than comments on this 'Snerk's' hygiene? If we might impose on your skill as a translator once more good Dorin?"
Dorin is silent for a moment, then opens his mouth as if to speak but then closes it again. He does this several times before finally saying, "What were we about to do again?"
"No, no. No scrawls. Just nasty mucks," Vilmar replies. "I'm glad those gobbers didn't feel like pooping in my shed too. Gods! Goblins! We have to tell the guards. We can't have goblins running around the city!"

One of the fishers gasps when he hears the word 'goblins'. He pulls in his lure frantically and rushes away from the dock and out onto Broken Glass Way. He is quite distraught and rushes away mumbling, "Goblins, goblins, goblins, goblins..." Onlookers look at him like he's crazy.

Vilmar pulls Bravec towards a wooden ladder than descends down to the water's edge. He leads the city druid under the dock and back towards his shop. Bravec quickly smells the messy 'mucks' before he even sees them. The feces are mixed with half-eaten fish and rotting fruits.

"Awful, ins't it," Vilmar says while holding his nose. "I thought that years of living near sailors and fish has made me immune to the worst stinks in the world, but this, this is just terrible." Vilmar sneezes once then retches and backs away from the mucks, which are spread out and watery. The scene is ghastly and gross. Who- or whatever left the feces ate something very smelly before dropping trousers under the dock and shop. The smell seems to, inexplicably, hang 'heavy' near the ground and some of the mucks have been pulled and pecked at by several seagulls that now lie dead in the befouled sand and rock.

OOC: Anyone who goes under the dock has to make a Fortitude save (DC 13) or be nauseated for 1 minute plus 1 minute for every 5 points the save is failed by.
 

Thateous

Explorer
Dorin finds a stick and goes under the dock to investigate the droppings. "You can learn a lot about a creature from it's droppings." he begins as he picks up some drift wood and leans down to get a good look at the mess. Picking through it he continues, "Let's see what this one's diet looks like. Hmm consistency suggests... and then there is the color... these bits here look like they are from... and there is a hint of ... from the smell it's about ... and the shape makes it..."
OOC: Roll for feces analysis? Nature? Fort: 1d20+6 17
OOC:

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Scotley

Hero
Bravec follows his friend and only with great effort of will manages not to join him in retching. He pales as Dorin ventures into the muck to examine it and has to look away. "He's a braver man than I," he admits with a shudder.
 

Tellerian Hawke

Defender of Oerth
Kane follows Bravec and Dorin, and nearly loses his breakfast, but at the last minute, manages to gain control of himself.

OOC:
Verification Link
Fort DC 13:
Roll = 14 (Saved)


"Wow, this smell is BAD. I don't think I've ever encountered its equal!"
 

MacConnell

Creator of The Untamed Wilds
Seemingly pacing, but really remaining within the same space, Oleander finally exclaims.
"Oil of Vitriol! Now I remember. In addition to being used by addicts and healers, the fumes from the stuff are highly flammable, explosive even under the right, or rather wrong, conditions. We need to be very cautious here."
 
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