Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! (update 4/03 and 4/06)

[Sialia]

There are two thigns I recall aboutthevisit to the Seer. One was that itoccurred just after Dylrath got his "knowing when he's being watched" talent, and he almost passed out when we were first surrounded by the about 200 Elves who live in that wood.

The other was that in order to get access to the Seer we had to answer a whole battery of questions to prove ourselves, and that the importnat question we all had to answer was soemthign to the effect of "what is the most valuable treasure?"

And though we each had to answer for ourselves, and in our own words, the consensus was remarkable. Every one of us, with a great deal of sincerity and in our own unique way said soemthing that meant "information."

It was at aboutthis point that Dylrath realized that he wanted to be a Diviner more than anything. He was a level or two shy of completing his mastery level in roguing,which would at last free him from his apprentice contract. And suddenly, he didn't really want to be a rogue anymore.

 

[Piratecat]

The Council Meeting went better than anyone expected.

Although Judge Daver argued that the group would serve Eversink more effectively as slaves, the Council overruled him and granted the enslaved members of the group their freedom. The Defenders were publicly thanked for their service and granted full citizenship within Eversink, with all the rights and responsibilities therein. In an unheard of overture, the Council also offered to purchase the group a house to live in, either within or outside of Eversink. Everyone started to smile at the offer of “outside,” as they realized that their enforced visit to the sinking city was now officially over.

Tao was offered a no-strings-attached price for the prison she inherited, and she accepted. Even more surprisingly, the Council asked Sharala Clearwater to step in as the pro tempore head of House Clearwater, “until Lord Griggan has sufficiently resumed control of his mental facilities.” Shara smiled disarmingly at that, and promised to do everything in her power to speed his recovery. Heh. Fate is smiling on the Defenders, and as they step out onto the ancient stone walkway outside of the council building, they realize that Tellingstone did his job; nothing more is holding them here in Eversink.

Passersby eye them strangely as the group bursts into excited laughter, cheering and praise for their lawyer.

TomTom snaps his fingers. “We invested a lot of money on the basis of our involvement in the city, and the ultimate fate of the prison,” he says. “I better go cash in before the Commodity Exchange receives word of the results.” He flags down a passing gondola and hurries off, whistling merrily.

The rest of the group heads back to the Temple. As they walk past the massive pillars supporting the entrance, Raevynn suddenly freezes in place. She shimmers in a rainbow of unearthly colors, and vanishes in a cascading prism of light. “What the hell was that?” shouts several people, and multiple weapons are drawn as acolytes scurry for cover.

Malachite and Mara scan the room. “No evil,” says Mara. “No undead,” confirms Malachite. There’s a pause. “No enemies,” says Nolin wonderingly, as he looks around mystified. “What just happened to Raevynn?”

Agar looks concerned. “It could be a temporal rebound,” he thinks aloud. Suddenly his eyes are gleaming with inquisitive excitement. “It’s unlikely, but it’s possible that Raevynn hasn’t fully synchronized with this plane after returning from the Citadel of Kodali’s Retreat. If so, theoretically, she may have just been whipped the other way in time. Remarkable!” He sucks on his pipe, blowing idle smoke rings as his mind works feverishly.

“So what does that mean?” asks Tao. “And why didn’t you warn us of this?”

“I didn’t know it could happen! It certainly hasn’t been mentioned in any of the tales I’ve heard of the place.” He looks at Nolin for confirmation, and the flame-haired bard nods in agreement. “If I’m correct, she should be perfectly safe. Previously, we were in a plane where time has speeded up. Since I predicate that she slid the other way, now she’ll most likely be in a temporal fluidity that moves incredibly slowly. I expect that she’ll eventually slide back here and not know that any time has passed at all.”

“Eventually?” asks Velendo, both irritated and worried. “When is ‘eventually’? And where will she arrive?”

“I’m not quite sure yet,” answers Agar, sounding more confident with every sentence. “She’s like a pendulum that’s swung a bit too far. Her natural entropy will return her. I expect that she’ll either return to where she was, or she’ll be drawn to me, since I’m the one who cast the plane shift in the first place.”

“Well,” says Mara reluctantly, “as long as she’s safe.” Malachite simply keeps quiet; he’s never trusted Raevynn, considering her to be incredibly dangerous and unpredictable. To him, her temporary loss is the party’s gain.

Nolin looks out the window at the angle of the sun. “Say,” he interrupts worriedly. “Does anything else think that we should check on TomTom?”

* * *

Nolin’s suspicions are correct. Before he ever reached the Commodities Exchange, TomTom simply disappeared. A witness who had been standing next to him is found in a tavern, describing the prismatic effect to anyone willing to buy him a goblet of wine. Sadly, TomTom was the only one who knew about the Defenders’ investments, and with a heavy sigh the group gives up the money as a lost cause. “I’ll miss him!” remarks Agar. “You can never have too many halflings in a group.”

To be continued….

• You’ve guessed it, of course. Raevynn’s player has moved to Las Vegas, and TomTom’s player (Tremere) is on hiatus with a beautiful new daughter. This little DM-ex-machina allows me to pop either one of them in on a moment’s notice, and pop them out again afterwards. All without breaking the plot!

 

[Piratecat]

“Time to find out what happened to Saint Aleax,” remarks Mara grimly. She checks the polish of her armor, the sheen on her holy symbol, the placement of her holy mace Lightbinder. Then she tugs her long blond hair back into a ponytail and turns her blue, blue eyes on Malachite. “Coming?” she asks. Malachite simply nods, and Tao teleports the three of them thousands of miles across the continent to the genie-built trading city of Corsai.

They appear in the horse-trodden plain outside of Corsai’s massive iron gates, the smell of dust and incense and heat filling their nostrils. They quickly make their way past the scarlet-robed Redeemers guarding the gate, and move through the blazing heat into the heart of the city.

“Go on,” Malachite says to Mara. “I’ll wait here.” He and Tao settle in the stark shadow of an awning next to a wine cart, and Mara mounts the beggar-clogged stairs up to the temple entrance. She immediately notices that something is wrong; for the first time in her memory, the golden portals to the temple are swung closed.

A golden robed acolyte meets her at the head of the stairs. “I’m sorry, holy sister,” he says in a voice that hasn’t yet seen the far side of puberty. “The temple is sealed. There are many other shrines in the city for you to worship at, however.” He offers her a hand-copied map and smiles hopefully.

“Err, thank you so much,” starts Mara, and upon hearing her voice the boy realizes that he’s not just speaking to some traveling knight. His eyes never leave her face as she continues. “It’s really important that I speak to an Elder of the Church. Is Father Whalter there? Is anyone allowed inside?”

“No,” squeaks the boy. As Mara’s eyes bore into him, he continues awkwardly, “Well, I think Father Whalter is with the Elders. And some of the clerics are allowed in to continue their duties, and some of the cooks and cleaning staff are allowed in, but no regular services are being held. The Elders are all sealed in the Chamber of the Sun.” His voice drops in reverence. “Saint Aleax has ascended into heaven to serve Our Lord Aeos, you see, and they are praying over this miracle. You know, deciding what it means for the church!” The boy swallows dryly. Despite the fact that worshippers of Aeos are seldom bothered by the heat, a trickle of sweat cuts its way down the side of his nose as he looks up at the beautiful paladin.

“Well, that’s interesting!” says Mara encouragingly. “I wonder if they’d be interesting in what Aeos said to me yesterday.”

“What Aeos said…?” The boy looks at her in confusion. “You mean, in prayer, right?”

“Oh, no,” says Mara ingenuously. “When he appeared to me in a pillar of sunlight. He said some interesting things about Saint Aleax, and I thought that the Clarion and the other high priests might be interested in knowing about it.” She smiles conspiratorially, and the boy’s jaw drops.

“Will you… excuse… be right back!” He dashes away, robes flapping, and Mara folds her hands in front of her and waits patiently with a half smile on her face. He returns in a moment with an older cleric, and Mara explains herself once again. His face wrinkled with worry, the man decides to take responsibility for breaking rules, and leads Mara to a tiny side entrance. Unveiling a ponderous iron key, he unlocks the small door, and Mara steps through the door. With one step, she leaves the heat and bustle of Corsai outside, and steps into the cool perfumed silence of the Mother Church.

It’s amazing how empty it is. Occasionally distant footsteps echo across the stone floors, and once a distant gong rings out, but there is almost no one in the building. Mara’s guide leads her to another cleric who asks her once again for her story, and she patiently repeats it as a scribe silently records her every word. Shocked, this cleric leaves her to find his superior. Mara wanders a bit as she waits, watching the play of the sun as it comes through the crystal skylights, watching the reflections on the altar of Aeos in the central chapel. A gilded and jeweled statue of the God towers above the alter, armed with the golden sword and shield of his faith. It shines in the silent room, and Mara can’t help but think that the representation doesn’t look much like the tower of flame that overcame her. She can still feel the glorious heat on her skin and hear the angels singing every time she closes her eyes.

The sound of footsteps breaks her out of her reverie. “They will see you, Commander,” says the cleric in an incredulous tone. “Please follow me.” He leads the way to the exact center of the building, to a vast golden door shaped like the sun. The cleric approaches and prays silently on his knees, and as he does so the metal turns into golden, opaque light. “Enter,” he suggests, and Mara walks through the door and into the light.

To be continued….

 

[Piratecat]

Mara walks into the wooden and crystal room as the door solidifies behind her. Pure sunlight plays across the fourteen or so church elders seated in a semi-circle in front of her. Father Whalter catches her eyes and winks insouciantly at her, a little grin playing across his round face. In the center of the Elders is The Clarion. Mara’s never seen the Holy Embodiment of the Sun before; he turns out to be a dark-skinned man in simple golden and white robes, younger than she would have thought, pale hair pulled back from his face. His voice is strong and gripping, and leaves no doubt of his authority.

“Commander Mara Thornhill. I welcome you to the Council of Elders. You are seeing a rare event; the Gates of the Sun are normally only closed when the time comes to appoint a new Clarion, and outsiders are never allowed within.” He looks around and catches Father Whalter’s eye. “I think, though, that we know enough to break our own rules when Our God demands it. I understand you have a story to tell.”

Once again, Mara begins to talk. She tells of the divinations and clues that led them to suspect Saint Aleax. She tells of Sir Malachite’s dilemma, and his distress in the schism within the church. She speaks at length of the Imbindarlan threat, of the appearance of Aeos and what he said, and of the Divine Battle that followed. The clerics interrupt her periodically, asking questions. Finally, she finishes, her throat dry.

The church elders consider her. “Astonishing,” says the Clarion. “You have truly been blessed, and you do our Father’s work. We will have to consider what this means, of course, for the theological ramaifications are… significant. You say that Saint Aleax no longer inhabits Malachite’s sword?” Mara notices that the Clarion deliberately leaves off Malachite’s honorific, but answers in the affirmative as she thinks of the good-natured leer in Karthos’ voice.

“Yes, your Holiness. It’s definitely a different personality, with no trace of Aleax.”

“I see.” He leans forward a bit, frowning. “I’m glad you have told us this. Our Lord God did not bodily visit here. Saint Aleax was attending services in a private chapel when he ascended in a pillar of fire, carried by the angels themselves. What you’ve said, if accurate, casts a different shadow on what has occurred.”

The Clarion looks around. “You will excuse us, please,” he says politely, and silence falls around Mara like a heavy blanket. She can see the church elders talking, but she can hear nothing. After some minutes, the silence lifts, and the Clarion looks at her gravely. “You’ve made the importance of your mission against the White Kingdom quite clear. You are to continue with the task as given to you by Aeos,” he says. “You may associate with Malachite in this endeavor. You may be aided by further forces of Aeos; that will be determined by our conference here. In any event, I encourage you to keep Father Whalter informed as to your progress and location.” Mara glances at Whalter, who gives an encouraging little nod.

The Clarion continues. “We are all agreed. It is essential that you do not yet discuss the details of Saint Aleax’s ascension with the faithful.. or with anyone else, for that matter. It is a private matter that must remain secret. Dissension in the church right now, at this stage, could rip us in two, and we must be very careful how we proceed. I understand that you are friends with a famous and influential bard, Commander. Make sure he knows this.” Mara nods. Then the Clarion pins Mara with his gaze and asks the question she was dreading.

"You know that Malachite is a wanted criminal by the Church. Why didn't you arrest him when you had the chance?"

Mara feels all of the blood drain from her face, and she tries to think of an honest answer that won't condemn her for insubordination and contempt. "Well, we have fought together and prayed together, and he is extremely faithful to Aeos, and... well... I had to do my duty to our God as best as I could, and to do that I had to make my own judgement of his character. I decided that he was doing more good for Aeos out of prison than in it. I had him under arrest, but...." she stumbles, but catches herself, and her voice regains its strength. "but I did my duty as I saw it. I judged his character and made a decision. I think it was the right one." She finishes knowing that she's doomed herself by her actions with Malachite, but that she would make the same decision again.

The Clarion's eyebrows draw together as he weighs Mara's somewhat disjointed answer. “That's not what I would have done, or what many here would have done. But it was done well." Mara looks at the Elders with amazement as he continues. "It's clear you serve your God and the Church, Commander Thornhill. You should be proud.” The Clarion says it in a way that suggests that they’re certainly proud of her, and Mara bows her head and turns to go as she blushes. “Oh, by the way,” adds the Clarion as he scribbles something on a sheet of paper. “Give this to someone as you leave.” He holds the sealed note out to her, and Mara takes it with a questioning look. Turning again, she leaves the room.

Her footsteps echo in the empty corridors, and soon the cleric who escorted her up to the Chamber of the Sun hurries to her side. He looks at her questioningly, not daring to ask, and Mara doesn’t offer.

They are walking through the outer temple before Mara remembers the note. “Oh, I was supposed to give this to someone!” she exclaims, and hands the sealed note to the cleric. He looks at it questioningly, tears it open, and reads what’s inside. Mara can’t see what it says, but she does see the man’s eyes bulge. “What is it?” she asks, but the man doesn’t answer as he looks at her with newfound awe and respect.

“This way,” he just says, and turns on his heels. They walk into the central chapel, Mara trailing behind the cleric as he strides towards the nave and the statue of Aeos that dominates the room. Her mouth drops open as the cleric drags a bench over to statue, clambers up onto it, and reaches up to the golden shield that adorns the arm of the statue. The cleric gives the glowing shield a slight wrench, and it slips off into his grasp. Dumbstruck, Mara just stands there as the cleric climbs down, turns, and presents the shield to Mara.

“But it… that’s….” is all she can say. The cleric just shrugs, amazed as well, and Mara slips the large shield onto her forearm. It feels right there, perfectly balanced and warm against her armor, and she can’t help the huge grin that lights up her face.

To be continued….

 

[KidCthulhu]

Responsibilities?? to Eversink??? Please someone tell me TomTom read the fine print on that one before he vanished in a puff of logic.

We didn't even need Tom-Tom for that one. Nolin, Velendo and Tao all realized the enormous tax revenue inherent in that little proposition. 'Sink may not want us to play in their sandbox anymore, but they certainly do want some nice, rich property owning adventurers to be filing tax reports as residents.

Silly Rabbits. Trix are for kids and taxes are for people who can't afford homes in Sigil.

 

[Piratecat]

Want some summer reading? The story hours which begin when the group reaches Eversink (and which end with Nolin's kidnapping) have been collected and set up for downloading. The link to the zipped Word document is below, in the first post of this thread, and on the front page of today's news. Bear with the first few pages, though; it's pretty rough until I hit my stride about page 10! Ever wonder how Tao ended up with a prison, or why the group is enslaved to the council of Eversink, or what "blood leeching" is? This has all the answers!

http://www.d20reviews.com/StoryHours/PC1.zip

 

[Piratecat]

Now, another point. The stone was a large boulder, the size of a hefty cauldron. Under normal circumstances, Velendo could not have even picked it up. However, the enchantment of the stone permitted the user to realign lines of gravitational force. At Velendo’s command the stone weighed less than a feather. We strapped it to his back with a large sash.

This seems like a convenient excuse for linking more of Littlejohn's art.

Velendo and the Stone

You have to love the image of waving to the passing hay wagon in this picture. I'd like to know what the wagon driver is thinking.

I have a wonderful memory of a fight six years ago, when aerial creatures tried to kill Velendo and steal the Damming Stone. Velendo tried to use the stone, messed up, and disconnected himself from the earth. He was more than a thousand feet up by the time he reestablished gravity....

At which point he plummeted.

Slowed slightly by Arcade's solid fog, Velendo bailed out 50' from the ground by using his rod of security to instead plunge into a deep mountain lake in Haven, his God's paradise. The Damming Stone wasn't as lucky. Tied to the Prime Material, it continued its plunge, hurtling like a meteor into the midst of the Defenders and their enemies. It left a 15' deep crater in the middle of a small unsuspecting town that the Defenders were passing through at the time, and was an absolute bugger to uncover after the fight.

 

[Eridanis]

TomTom's player isn't leaving - we love him, and he adds an amazing amount to the group when he can come - but with a new daughter there are a whole lot more demands on his time than there was before. I've set it up so that any time he can come, TomTom will be there waiting for him, and in the mean time I don't have to keep track of a complex character!

For the moment, at least, the PCs seem to be leaving Eversink behind them. That doesn't mean that politics will disappear as they drop into an endless dungeon crawl; I'd like to think that I'm at least a little sneakier than that. But the focus will certainly change as they set out on their quest to break the spine of the White Kingdom!

This marks quite a turning point for those of us who read the story hour, not to mention for the campaign (TomTom was the last original character still actively played, correct?). The whole SH has been based in Eversink, and now we move on.

Congrats to TomTom's player, too. As a recently new father myself, I tell you that nothing beats spending time with wife and child. (However, being able to get out once a week to game is a very good aid to keeping one's sanity - make sure Mrs. TomTom has a chance to get out, too!) No time like the present to start filling a child's head with history, literature, math, and an appreciation for all things geeky, like games and computers.

 

[Sialia]

Somebody tell me you guys remembered to take care of that trade agreement His Majesty was concerned about? Please tell me that. I have reports to file, and I do like sticking as close to the truth as possible, when possible.

-'Rath

 

[KidCthulhu]

Somebody tell me you guys remembered to take care of that trade agreement

-'Rath

Actually, our mission was not to negotiate a trade agreement. There's a whole crack precision diplomatic bun fighting team in 'Sink for that. Our job was to escort the Flowstone (check) and to serve as extraordinary embassadors to the trade mission (check). We were to impress the populace and jaded nobles of 'Sink with our power and rustic charm (check). We were not to kill anyone important (nope and nope). The king is far too wise to entrust us with anything as delicate as actual trade negotiations.

We were the parade and cultural festival, here to bring demonstrate the raditional Gauntian pastimes of disrupting political heirarchies and landmark defacement. At least we didn't have to wear leiderhosen. Velendo doesn't have the knees for it.