JacktheRabbit
Explorer
So do we have another guest player who is running the enigmatic gith monk?
Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! (update 4/03 and 4/06)
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Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
“All right, no one has any weapons, right?” TomTom looks nervous as he scans his friends, and Tao curses and pulls a tiara out of her hair. “It’s got a longsword magically hidden in it,” she explains apologetically, and TomTom hands it to the staggering page who is already holding a huge armful of the group’s other weapons. “Don’t worry,” says Karthos, tucked under the page’s left armpit. “I’ll watch them.”
Other than the githzerai Galthia (still locked in his room in the temple of Calphas), almost all of the Defenders in Eversink are standing in this gilded and ornate anteroom, accompanied by their barrister Daedalus Tellingstone. Even Lady Sharala Clearwater is present. Most disturbingly, Judge Daver “the Slaver” is also waiting on the other side of the large room, glaring at the Defenders in silence. Another stranger also stands in the room, eyeing the heroes nervously; this man is dressed in dark clothing and has narrow eyes, as well as long greasy black hair slicked back on his head. He walks over.
“Excuse me,” he says in unctuous tones, like satin being dragged through grease. “I am Dagwillow the Younger, of the firm Dagwillow and Son, Morticians. We are caretakers of those who have sadly departed from this mortal realm. I am here to represent the interests of your loved one the late Sir Valdek Nurin, Knight of Gaunt.” The group looks at him with undisguised surprise and disgust. He nods, understandingly, and continues on as he spreads his hands wide. “I know you are in quite a dangerous line of work. Without being presumptuous, I was wondering… have you already engaged anyone to care for your mortal frame after you have departed from this all-too-brief realm of flesh? We are quite experienced in such matters, and would be honored to have your patronage.”
The looks of disgust become more pronounced. Velendo finally finds his tongue. “Let me get this straight,” he says wonderingly. “You want to take care of our bodies when someone kills us?”
The man nods slowly. “Yes indeed, your Reverence, or when you die of natural causes. Whichever occurs first.” Most of the group snorts in amusement. Dagwillow ignores the irreverence. “Your loved ones and many thousand faithful churchgoers will wish to view your earthly form once your soul has ascended into Calphas’ care. You will doubtlessly wish for someone competent and discreet to manage the bureaucracy, to handle the will, to distribute your belongings, to contact those who would not otherwise hear of your death, and to bury you in the manner you choose. These things should not be entrusted to the person who happens to stumble across your body on the street.” He smiles, showing slightly too many teeth. “That is why Dagwillow and Son exists, to ease your entry into immortal life.”
Velendo rolls his eyes and tries to avoid being offensively blunt. “I don’t think there will be enough of us left to bury when that time comes, Mister Dagwillow. But thank you. We’ll certainly consider it.” Dagwillow bows and silkily offers Velendo a card. Velendo accepts it and tucks it in a pouch, where it is quickly forgotten.
The heroes are more concerned with Judge Daver. They haven’t seen him in months. He was the judge who sentenced half the group to five years of slavery for their role in the murder of Lord Niccolo Diavoli (along with the accompanying destruction of public property.) He’s a harsh man, but remarkably fair and honest in a city full of graft and corruption, and his presence makes the group nervous.
Tellingstone draws them close. “Remember, this isn’t just about Tao suddenly producing the deed to Rakers prison. The rumor is that there’s a movement to pardon you for your crimes here in the city.”
“Why?” asks Nolin. “Not that I object, mind you, but….”
Tellingstone’s lips are pinched tightly as he tries not to smile. “I don’t think anyone expected you to have such a… hrmm… high profile. You’re surrounded by influential allies and enemies. Two… no, now four of you are prophets for their Gods at a time when the Gods are walking abroad, and two of you are important priests. Another of you has ties to the city’s druidic guardians. You’re knights and confidantes of the King of a neighboring kingdom, and his High Magus is your former companion. One of you is the fiancee’ of a Prince. Another is a possible heir to a Great House, and a third seems to have inherited the island that our prison is built on. Not to mention your group includes one of the most popular entertainers in the city, a person who constantly leaves broken hearts behind him.” He eyes Mara and Shara. “AND her AND her. And now the daughter of a council member sees you in combat against the ghouls back in Hundle’s Crossing, and not only does she see the ghoulish threat, she sees what you’re capable of when you’re angry.” Tellingstone’s grin breaks through, like sunlight from behind a cloud. “I heard a third hand retelling. It was quite impressive.”
Tellingstone looks around at the circle of faces. “I think a few people are scared. Have you heard the phrase ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out if the kitchen’? Even as slaves, you’ve managed to keep stoking that fire, and I think they don’t want you in their kitchen any more. My sources tell me that there have been those on the Council who think you should be fed to Brinedeath, or dropped down a hole and forgotten. I’ve been encouraging those who think the best solution is to graciously buy you off in the hope you’ll leave. You may have been accidentally involved with the church of Yorrine and killed one of the most popular men in the city, but Eversink’s memory is only as deep as its pockets, and I’m banking on that.”
The great portals to the Council Chamber swing open on silent hinges.
Velendo grimaces as he shifts his shield. “Let’s go find out.” And as one, the group turns and walks into the Council Chamber.
To be continued….
Other than the githzerai Galthia (still locked in his room in the temple of Calphas), almost all of the Defenders in Eversink are standing in this gilded and ornate anteroom, accompanied by their barrister Daedalus Tellingstone. Even Lady Sharala Clearwater is present. Most disturbingly, Judge Daver “the Slaver” is also waiting on the other side of the large room, glaring at the Defenders in silence. Another stranger also stands in the room, eyeing the heroes nervously; this man is dressed in dark clothing and has narrow eyes, as well as long greasy black hair slicked back on his head. He walks over.
“Excuse me,” he says in unctuous tones, like satin being dragged through grease. “I am Dagwillow the Younger, of the firm Dagwillow and Son, Morticians. We are caretakers of those who have sadly departed from this mortal realm. I am here to represent the interests of your loved one the late Sir Valdek Nurin, Knight of Gaunt.” The group looks at him with undisguised surprise and disgust. He nods, understandingly, and continues on as he spreads his hands wide. “I know you are in quite a dangerous line of work. Without being presumptuous, I was wondering… have you already engaged anyone to care for your mortal frame after you have departed from this all-too-brief realm of flesh? We are quite experienced in such matters, and would be honored to have your patronage.”
The looks of disgust become more pronounced. Velendo finally finds his tongue. “Let me get this straight,” he says wonderingly. “You want to take care of our bodies when someone kills us?”
The man nods slowly. “Yes indeed, your Reverence, or when you die of natural causes. Whichever occurs first.” Most of the group snorts in amusement. Dagwillow ignores the irreverence. “Your loved ones and many thousand faithful churchgoers will wish to view your earthly form once your soul has ascended into Calphas’ care. You will doubtlessly wish for someone competent and discreet to manage the bureaucracy, to handle the will, to distribute your belongings, to contact those who would not otherwise hear of your death, and to bury you in the manner you choose. These things should not be entrusted to the person who happens to stumble across your body on the street.” He smiles, showing slightly too many teeth. “That is why Dagwillow and Son exists, to ease your entry into immortal life.”
Velendo rolls his eyes and tries to avoid being offensively blunt. “I don’t think there will be enough of us left to bury when that time comes, Mister Dagwillow. But thank you. We’ll certainly consider it.” Dagwillow bows and silkily offers Velendo a card. Velendo accepts it and tucks it in a pouch, where it is quickly forgotten.
The heroes are more concerned with Judge Daver. They haven’t seen him in months. He was the judge who sentenced half the group to five years of slavery for their role in the murder of Lord Niccolo Diavoli (along with the accompanying destruction of public property.) He’s a harsh man, but remarkably fair and honest in a city full of graft and corruption, and his presence makes the group nervous.
Tellingstone draws them close. “Remember, this isn’t just about Tao suddenly producing the deed to Rakers prison. The rumor is that there’s a movement to pardon you for your crimes here in the city.”
“Why?” asks Nolin. “Not that I object, mind you, but….”
Tellingstone’s lips are pinched tightly as he tries not to smile. “I don’t think anyone expected you to have such a… hrmm… high profile. You’re surrounded by influential allies and enemies. Two… no, now four of you are prophets for their Gods at a time when the Gods are walking abroad, and two of you are important priests. Another of you has ties to the city’s druidic guardians. You’re knights and confidantes of the King of a neighboring kingdom, and his High Magus is your former companion. One of you is the fiancee’ of a Prince. Another is a possible heir to a Great House, and a third seems to have inherited the island that our prison is built on. Not to mention your group includes one of the most popular entertainers in the city, a person who constantly leaves broken hearts behind him.” He eyes Mara and Shara. “AND her AND her. And now the daughter of a council member sees you in combat against the ghouls back in Hundle’s Crossing, and not only does she see the ghoulish threat, she sees what you’re capable of when you’re angry.” Tellingstone’s grin breaks through, like sunlight from behind a cloud. “I heard a third hand retelling. It was quite impressive.”
Tellingstone looks around at the circle of faces. “I think a few people are scared. Have you heard the phrase ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out if the kitchen’? Even as slaves, you’ve managed to keep stoking that fire, and I think they don’t want you in their kitchen any more. My sources tell me that there have been those on the Council who think you should be fed to Brinedeath, or dropped down a hole and forgotten. I’ve been encouraging those who think the best solution is to graciously buy you off in the hope you’ll leave. You may have been accidentally involved with the church of Yorrine and killed one of the most popular men in the city, but Eversink’s memory is only as deep as its pockets, and I’m banking on that.”
The great portals to the Council Chamber swing open on silent hinges.
Velendo grimaces as he shifts his shield. “Let’s go find out.” And as one, the group turns and walks into the Council Chamber.
To be continued….
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Wolfspirit
First Post
Piratecat said:
You know, it strikes me as a rather stupid idea to either attempt to feed them to the dragon or just hide them away for a while. I rather doubt that the Defenders would go willingly, and I'm sure while it'd be possible to subdue them, it would be rather messy (both politicaly and "assailants strewn about"). Of course, with Brinedeath, unless they were sent as a feast naked, gagged, bound in barbed wire and in an anitmagic sphere, I'm sure that they would be a difficult meal to chew. Heck, Nolin would present some nasty heartburn either way.
On the other hand, I'm guessing that Valendo could just disbelieve that anyone would be stupid enough to try to "drop in a hole and attempt to forget" a cleric that had the ability to disbelieve things (not that I'd like that ability to be a crutch, but if push came to shove...)
For the third alternative of "buying them off", is it just me, or could that have some bad implications? I wonder if they'd still be slaves, in which case, it'd probably be better off if the Defenders were under the control of the *relativly* just Council. And even still, I'm sure that whoever did pay would probably try to use that to their advantage at some point.
I personally think the best alternative is for them to be sent to fight Brinedeath. Even if they lost, it'd be interesting to see what kind of explosion they could cause (There'd be a lot of fortitude saves from the small armory of magic items carried about if the Area of Effect type spells started flying, or if Nolin went down)
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Wolfspirit said:
Sure, but lots of people do irrational, petty things out of fear, hate or jealousy. The Defenders came in to someone else's kiddy pool and then inadvertently made some REALLY big waves. Just by their presence they changed the balance of power, and that's terrifying for those with an entrenched interest.
Even more galling, the Defenders are heroes. They may have made a horrible first impression (what with the confessed Yorrine worship, and the killing the Doge, and the destruction of one of the oldest buildings in the city), but inherent nobility ended up showing itself, and peoples' opinions of the Defenders is not what it was six months ago. Then, they were foreign troublemakers; now, they're local celebrities, and prominent ones at that. Not everyone on the Council has truly internalized the fact that today's political realities are different than last year's. And that's a pity; grasping political realities is a survival skill for Eversink. *grin*
Wolfspirit
First Post
Piratecat said:
Especially when some of the political realities can cast level 9 spells now, eh?
Three words: Storm of Vengeance
KidCthulhu
First Post
Nah, the real thing that's throwing the nobs of 'Sink is that we don't give a rat's ass for their machinations. We've seen Sigil. We've destroyed economies. We've saved the world more times before breakfast (the meal or otherwise) than most heros do in a lifetime. The politics of 'Sink, so important to the people here, are really of no interest to the Defenders.
And that's what really bugs them. When you get really obscessed with something like that, spend your life balancing smiles and the nuances of every word spoken, watching every shift in the breezes of power, to have someone treat it as nothing is disturbing and unsettling. And to be unable to really touch them, despite all your power? That's antacid time.
I mean the Defenders were happy to help depose Griggan, but that's not becasue we care about 'Sinkish politics. We just don't like Griggan.
And that's what really bugs them. When you get really obscessed with something like that, spend your life balancing smiles and the nuances of every word spoken, watching every shift in the breezes of power, to have someone treat it as nothing is disturbing and unsettling. And to be unable to really touch them, despite all your power? That's antacid time.
I mean the Defenders were happy to help depose Griggan, but that's not becasue we care about 'Sinkish politics. We just don't like Griggan.
Sito Rotavele said:
So much for the 'no problem too small' shtick, huh?
Although, come to think of it ... what was the point at which you guys stopped doing the 'small fry'-type stuff? What I mean is, the 'early years' thread has the Defenders adventuring in much the way most parties do - you know, going on adventures and delving into dungeons as they present themselves; reacting to situations and doing so in relative anonymity. Then, on the other hand, you have the Eversink era of the economy-destroying, God-embodying, world-saving superstar Defenders who do things in their own inimitable style. Granted, there is a vast gap (both in terms of levels and time) between those two eras but what would you say was the point where you looked around and realised you'd hit the big-time, as it were?
Yours,
Altin
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Altin said:
I can pinpoint it precisely: at exactly the moment that 2e Velendo got aerial servant. I sent them on a dungeon crawl to fight their way into a mercenary headquarters located in what was once a giant termite mound, find a leader, and kidnap them. Instead, the stinkers camped a quarter mile away from the dungeon. TomTom scouted it ethereally and saw someone who looked important... then Velendo summoned an aerial servant and told him "go fetch!" A few minutes later, they had their man by using brains instead of brawn, and off they ran.
The trend continued. I gave them a massive Imbindarlan temple of seeping evil... they had no interest in going anywhere near the place. I gave them G2 (the Frost giant module) with some changes, and they scouted it ethereally and did a 3 am commando style raid on the place. Sneaking in invisibly, they used wall spells to seal the dragons and 95% of the giants into their sleeping quarters. Then they killed the jarl and his wife (and two or three guards), recovered the item they came for, and headed down into the subbasement to save the kidnapped villagers that I added.
So, I gave them more of what they seemed to prefer (tricky interpersonal or political puzzles with a fair amount of combat), and cut back on dungeon crawls. That was a little frustrating for me, but they were playing to the party's strengths, and once I learned to not bother mapping any dungeon ahead of time, it got much easier.
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KidCthulhu
First Post
Actually, PC, I disagree. I think the question is when did our adventures stop being local and distinct. When did they become all interconnected and messy? I'd say the Ebon Mage Rot/Doppleganger plot (not yet recorded on the boards). That was our first complex, interwoven, peel away one layer of evil to expose yet more juicy evil story line, and it's just gotten worse (better) from there.
I should point out that I think these adventures started about the same time Sagiro started his campaign. PC saw the layered, story heavy world Sagiro had created, and he got all inspired. Now I live between these two geniuses, each feeding off the other to create greater and greater badness to inflict on their players. Woe is me.
I should point out that I think these adventures started about the same time Sagiro started his campaign. PC saw the layered, story heavy world Sagiro had created, and he got all inspired. Now I live between these two geniuses, each feeding off the other to create greater and greater badness to inflict on their players. Woe is me.
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