GM: | Want to get this big chunk done before American Thanksgiving takes over. Going to NPC Anna for now to move things along. | |
Anna bats her eyelashes at the white robe and asks the acolyte to surprise her. He bows, and rushes to the kitchen.
Food and drink arrive in short order: Succulent steaks for the unnamed half-elf and Elenka, plump roast and veggies for Quioan, lobster drizzled with butter for Yoshiki, and Anna's 'surprise': a small pheasant cooked in aromatic herbs. However unassuming The River's Tears might be, they certainly seem to have a wide variety of cuisine. And, as each person samples the food, tasty cuisine, to boot.
Bottles of white and red wines, as well as a pitcher of chilled water, make their way to the tables, as well, poured for each supplicant by the white-robed acolytes. As the party eats, the black-robed priest picks at a plate of fruits and cheeses and surveys the newcomers.
Partway through the meal, Yoshiki raises his glass and calls to praise Owbej; the assembled robed figures almost instinctively repeat
"All hail Owbej." The priest cocks his head to one side a moment, as if considering. The unmoving mask he wears makes the assessment a bit disturbing. Finally, he raises his own glass.
"All hail," he says and carefully drinks through the large frown built into the mask.
"The tests of Owbej are many, tests of body and soul, of endurance and loyalty. But the rewards far outstrip the hardships, friend." he offers. As with the street preaching, this priest seems to specialize in speaking much without saying anything.
The half-elf scoffs.
"What's it even matter, little man?" he says, gulping down his wine to wash down a particularly large bite as he finishes off his steak.
"Life's hard all over the place, so we just take what they dish out, and ... and ..." he doesn't manage to finish his sentence, though. The young man's eyes roll up in his head, and with a groan, he slumps over onto the table, where his attending white-robe stops him from falling fully to the floor.
"Well said, supplicant," the man in the black robes says.
"What we've dished out is first food, then sleep. Everyone sleeps, and wakes again ready to earn Owbej's embrace," he finishes, standing and swaying. No, he's not swaying. The room is. Spinning and swaying, darkness moving in at its edges.
Yoshiki's legs give out from under him, but again, an acolyte is there to catch him.
Elenka isn't far behind, slumping to the tabletop, avoiding smacking her forehead by the ready hand of a white robe.
Anna and Quioan barely have time to recognize what's happening before they, too, fall into darkness.
*****
When the world comes back, The River's Tears is long gone. Instead, you each awake on a simple straw mat, scratching at bites from the fleas it clearly contains. You are each in individual, small cells arrayed along one side of a stone corridor. Each cell has iron bars that swing on a hinge, though they are also all locked at the moment.
You barely have time to realize that your gear is all missing before you hear,
"Bollocks," coming from a familiar, moody voice.
"Should'a known nothin's that good." The half-elf, as well, appears to be locked in one of the cells.
"Ah, but Owbej provides," comes another familiar voice, the deep bass of the priest from the Tears. He comes down the corridor with white-robed acolytes, each bearing a folded white cloth and a bowl of water.
The masked, black-robed priest paces down the narrow stone hallway, looking in each of the cells.
“I must apologize for the way that you were brought here,” he begins with a calm, even tone.
“We must be sure that you are pure and properly prepared to join the faith. Today you shall fast and meditate on the glory of Owbej. This evening, you shall be sworn in and given your masks, made one piece of the greater whole. You shall become acolytes, and be allowed upon the first step of enlightenment. Rejoice! The path of glory and fortune shall be open to you.”
The cultists place the cloth and water before each of your cells, bow to you, and follow the man in black out of the area.
"Guess we're supposed to put these on, eh?" the half-elf says, lifting the fabric and seeing it's a robe.
"Name's Thon, by the by. Thon Vissior." He chuckles.
"Guess this is the hard part they were talkin' about, huh?"
[sblock=ooc]
Fort saves (DC 30) vs poison: Elenka; Anna; Quioan; Yoshiki (1d20+1=9, 1d20+2=19, 1d20+3=19, 1d20+4=8)
The knockout poison was more or less inevitable given the way the adventure's written. I apologize if anyone feels shoehorned.[/sblock]
GM: | ETA: Also, hope everyone caught that there's now an official LPF forum | |