Rel
Liquid Awesome
New Companions and New Directions
*In this section, I'll include the write-ups that I handed each player before the session to provide the exposition of what happened in the couple days following the negotiations with the tribal chieftains. I should also note that I forgot to mention earlier that Rhys used the two identify scrolls that he found in the wizard's tower to ID the wand and candle they also found there. The wand was a Wand of Detect Magic (with about 8 charges) and the candle was a unique magic item. It could be used a total of 12 times to produce either of two effects, both of which required 8 hours of uninterrupted meditation (if the meditation was interrupted, the charge was lost but no effects were produced). The effects were (1) Identify cast at caster level 3 (up to 3 items could be ID'd per use) or (2) All spells prepared for the day received the benefit of the Extend Spell metamagic feat. The trick with the candle was that only Rhys could use effect #1 because Identify wasn't on Speaks' spell list and only Speaks could use effect #2 because Rhys was a sorcerer and didn't prepare spells.*
Info for Speaks With Stone
The afternoon after the negotiations have concluded, the shamans who are present in the village ask to meet with you. You withdraw some distance from the village and rather abruptly the group of them sit down on the ground in a circle. For a while, nobody speaks and Krusk, shaman of the Coritani passes a pipe around. Eventually, Uthrus begins to ask you a number of questions concerning your beliefs and practices.
When they learn that you are trying to protect as much of the wilds from incursions by the Imperials, they seem surprised and pleased. They speak some of what their customs entail (most of which you have already learned from Wamic). Talk then turns to magic.
They have heard tales of the things you are capable of and wish to learn some of your magic. They ask if you are willing to teach them the secret of the "grasping roots" that they have heard about through Ilrath. (I assume that you are willing, based on our earlier conversations. However, if I recall correctly, you didn't have it prepared for that day.) You explain the idea behind the spell, which they seem to grasp readily enough. You promise to provide a demonstration on the following day.
Uthrus offers to teach you some magic in return. He has noticed that none in your group can speak the barbarian tongue. He says that his people have a way to draw upon the wisdom of their ancestors who have spoken many tongues over the years. When the proper invocations are said, you can hear the voices of the ancestors speak words you understand, even when someone is saying them in an unfamiliar language. He and the other shamans will teach you these invocations in exchange for your teachings about the "grasping roots". (In effect, you can add the Comprehend Languages spell to your available spells to prepare. But, due to the source of the spell, you can only understand the spoken word and it only functions in the lands of the barbarian ancestors. You have no idea how far those lands extend. But the shamans can assure you that they range at least as far north as the Stone Tooth and at least as far east as Glynden.)
While they teach you the way to call upon their ancestors, you talk of other things. They learn of your fondness for brewing. They explain that they too enjoy a good beer at times. They also talk about the ways that they can imbue some of their drinks with magic. You say that this is a practice that is common among the druid order you come from and that although you are interested in it, you have never done it. They agree to show you the ways of magical brewing in the hopes that you will come back and teach them more of your magic after you return from the dwarven mountain.
With that, you part for the evening and walk back to Rilaga. There, Hrongar speaks to the gathered warriors about the agreements that have been struck with you and the others from Glynden. He speaks about your journey to bring the dwarves into the battle on the side of the barbarians (this especially excites the Brigantes). All of the other chiefs who have signed the "treaty" make speeches too. There is much drinking of beer and banging of swords and axes on shields. All in all, more people and hoopla than you are comfortable with. You depart the village, seeking solace in the woodland night.
As you depart the firelight, a hand grips your arm and you turn to see Orthula's face in the moonlight. Wordlessly, she leads you deeper into the woods. Eventually you are far enough from the village and close enough to a stream that the sound of the water drowns out the sounds of the celebration. There on the bank of the stream she offers herself to you.
(If you choose not to accept her offer, skip the next paragraph. Oh hell, read it anyway. You might as well at least know what you're missing. Either way, just look over at me and shake your head yes or no so I know your answer.) *He went for it!*
(I figured you'd go for it) Having never known the touch of a "civilized" woman, many of Orthula's ways of lovemaking are unshocking. But when she is fully taken in the moment, her…ferocity is such that you are briefly reminded of your encounter with the Wood Wife many years ago *GM Note - This was an event described in the character's background where he was tricked into losing his virginity with a woodland spirit*. Afterwards, you lie together wrapped in her heavy fur cloak. You sting from the welts and cuts left from her teeth and nails but you sleep a peaceful and exhausted sleep that has not been yours in quite some time. Here in this untamed land, lying in the arms of a clearly untamed woman, you almost, almost feel at home. It is only in the dark hours of the morning that you wake alone and cold. But your shaking is not from the cold. It is from the dream that awakened you. A dream where blackened tongues raised inhuman howls to the sky and dark figures danced in the light of giant bonfires that boiled huge iron kettles.
In the next couple of days, you spend nearly all of your time in the woods away from Rilaga teaching and learning. Despite your earlier encounter, Orthula is civil but hardly flirtatious. You learn a great deal about the ancestral hero worship of the barbarians and the totem spirits that their heroes embody. As the time draws near for you to depart for the Stone Tooth, Orthula visits you again. Again there are no words exchanged but this time she leaves you with a pouch containing the herbs necessary for brewing your own magical potions (200gp worth).
As you depart for the north, you cannot say that your spirit is at rest. In the distance, dozens of axes can be heard, biting the forest as the barbarians prepare the poles for their palisade. Whether the trees of this largely virgin forest are destined for barbarian fortresses or Orcish bonfires you cannot say. But the bitter wind whispers in your ears that this land will never be the same.
Info for Krase
You spend most of the next three days and nights in the almost constant company of Ilrath. He is able to serve as translator for you in trying to get the other tribesmen to understand your instructions about building fortifications.
At times you find yourself pausing to reflect on how much you distrusted Ilrath when you first met him. Your grandfather would never have believed your story had you told him that someday you would be companion to a barbarian. Had you told him that the folk of Glynden would be fighting a war on the same side as the barbarians, he would have beaten you for drinking all of grandfather Wakenzaki's beer. *GM Note - An old dwarven friend of Krase's grandfather was a close friend to the family and helped raise Krase. The dwarf bore the rather odd name of Wakenzaki and was renowned for his excellent beer*.
But here you are, trying to get the barbarians to understand how to build a fortress. Never before has such a sharp line been drawn between your grandfather's generation and yours.
In your spare moments, you teach what you can remember of the fighting techniques that Wakenzaki taught, should you ever meet an Orc. It isn't much, but it keeps your hands busy. Hands that would far rather be plunging one of your gladii into the belly of the Gnolls left on the homeward shore of the Fodor. You will return to deal with them soon enough. For now the Orcs will have to do.
Not soon enough, you find your friends, including Ilrath, and yourself with your feet on a path to the north. The day is clear and cold. Behind you as well as eastward are those who depend on you to do your duty. Before you are allies to be made and enemies to be slain. You can't think of a better way to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.
Info for Rhys
With Speaks With Stone occupied talking to the tribal shamans and Krase and Ilrath spending all day talking to the other barbarians about palisades and fortifications, you find yourself at loose ends. To be certain, you feel a sense of accomplishment at having secured the oaths of three of the tribes who wish the aid of the forces of Glynden. You look forward to locating and negotiating with the dwarves of the Stone Tooth where warm hearths are sure to be in greater abundance. But for now, you are somewhat bored and frustrated.
There are a few girls about and it is clear that they are curious to get a look at the outlanders (no doubt especially the one who moves with the grace of a cat but speaks with a tongue of silver). But your lack of understanding of their language provides a barrier to any meaningful conversations. And any hopes of communicating in the "universal language" are quickly dampened by the presence of a couple hundred uncivilized berserker warriors who all seem to have been born with an axe in their hands and a chip on their shoulders.
For the first time you can recall in a long while, you are alone and have nobody to talk to.
Your thoughts turn to the arcane ritual that you spoke about with Speaks With Stone. *GM Note - Rhys had just leveled to 2nd and was now a full fledged Sorcerer (instead of a 0/0 apprentice level Rogue/Sorcerer) and as such wanted to summon a familiar which would require 100gp worth of materials and a full day ritual*. In the morning, you see him wandering into the village with a confused and concerned look on his face. His back is probably killing him from sleeping on a bunch of tree roots somewhere since he certainly wasn't in his bunk last night. No matter. After a brief conversation with him, he directs you to speak with Krusk, shaman of the Coritani.
Krusk seems anxious to return to whatever Speaks and the other shamans are doing, but he listens to your request for the ingredients required for the ritual. He tells you that the herbs, incense and candle necessary are rare and hard to find. He asks if you have anything in trade.
Casting about on your person for anything of value, you come upon the pair of spiked gauntlets that have been tangled in the bottom of your pack these last few days. (If you don't want to trade the gauntlets, you don't have to. But you will need to provide something of approximately 100gp value to give for the ingredients. If you decide not to trade the gauntlets, just let me know and skip the next paragraph). *He opted to trade the gauntlets*
Krusk examines the gauntlets and notes the smith mark on them. He tells you that he cannot trade the ingredients for the gauntlets because it would not be fair to you. He then asks you to wait. He leaves and returns in a few minutes. In exchange for the gauntlets, he offers you the ingredients you request as well as a "magic writing" that was captured on one of the many raids against the people of the northland villages. The "magic writing" is a scroll that includes the spells Detect Undead, Grease and Levitate on it. You accept.
You stash the scroll in your gear and gather a few items from your spartan quarters including one of the smaller braziers, some unburned coals and a hunk of fresh venison. You then seek an area outside the village that isn't occupied by barbarians felling trees at the direction of Krase and Ilrath. Although you had to walk more than a mile, you manage to locate a clearing, free of any distractions and with grass thick enough to provide a comfortable seat. You begin your ritual.
You carefully crumble the herbs into a coarse powder and then walk the perimeter of the clearing, sprinkling them as you go. Returning to the middle of the clearing, you sit in the middle for a time and go through the process of relaxing each muscle in your body until you are almost in a trance. With your body relaxed, your mind has no choice but to follow. You then begin to place the coals in the brazier, one at a time, holding each one for a moment, feeling its shape and texture. With the coals in the brazier, you place the incense among it and ignite the candle and in turn use the candle to light the coals. The scent of the incense, pleasantly sweet, reaches your nostrils. You close your eyes.
After an indeterminate time you reopen your eyes to find the coals glowing a uniform orange. You stare into the coals, timing your breathing and begin to feel words building behind your lips. You accept them as they come and begin to chant. As each word comes forth, you do more than speak it, you cast it far out into the wilds.
Finally the stream of words dries up and exhausted, you rest. When you feel that you can stand, you rise to your feet and walk to the edge of the clearing and place the venison on the ground. You return to where you sat, legs feeling like lead and sit again. Now you wait.
Sometime later, a rustling in the leaves at the edge of the clearing causes your eyes to slowly open. A small slender form perches by the venison and watches you. As you gaze on, it takes a small bite of the venison. It appears to be a weasel or civet of largish size and female. It takes another bite of the venison.
Presently, you "feel" rather than hear, "What is it you want?"
"I want your companionship," you reply.
"And what do you offer in return?"
"I offer long life and fresh red meat without struggle. And I offer my friendship."
"And what do you ask in return?"
"I ask for aid in my endeavors, such as are in your power. I will ask for wisdom, and I will ask for your friendship."
The weasel pauses to consider and takes the opportunity to tear another shred from the venison. Then, "Done."
A smile comes to your face for the first time in hours. You reach out on the link you've established. "Thank you. I swear that you will be my dearest companion and I will never put your life in danger."
In reply, the weasel sends, "I am a trickster, just as you are. Your hollow words do not offend me, but neither do I believe them. For such as we, seldom will be the nights when we are not in danger. Nevertheless, I swear to be your dearest companion and to aid you in your hunt."
"But I am not a hunter."
"You will be."
The following day passes quickly for you as you begin to grow used to the new presence in your mind. You decide on a name for your friend *He ultimately decided on Tavis* and begin to consider what it will be like to have someone to whom you can never lie be your constant companion. You find your spirits high as your companions and you put your feet on the road to the north. Regardless of what dangers lie ahead, you know that you will never be alone again. And you suspect that it won't be long before you will wish you were bored again.
*GM Note - I stole a lot of the familiar summoning ritual from the book Jhereg by Stephen Brust. If you haven't read it, you should.*
NEXT: A Momentary Lapse of Reason
*In this section, I'll include the write-ups that I handed each player before the session to provide the exposition of what happened in the couple days following the negotiations with the tribal chieftains. I should also note that I forgot to mention earlier that Rhys used the two identify scrolls that he found in the wizard's tower to ID the wand and candle they also found there. The wand was a Wand of Detect Magic (with about 8 charges) and the candle was a unique magic item. It could be used a total of 12 times to produce either of two effects, both of which required 8 hours of uninterrupted meditation (if the meditation was interrupted, the charge was lost but no effects were produced). The effects were (1) Identify cast at caster level 3 (up to 3 items could be ID'd per use) or (2) All spells prepared for the day received the benefit of the Extend Spell metamagic feat. The trick with the candle was that only Rhys could use effect #1 because Identify wasn't on Speaks' spell list and only Speaks could use effect #2 because Rhys was a sorcerer and didn't prepare spells.*
Info for Speaks With Stone
The afternoon after the negotiations have concluded, the shamans who are present in the village ask to meet with you. You withdraw some distance from the village and rather abruptly the group of them sit down on the ground in a circle. For a while, nobody speaks and Krusk, shaman of the Coritani passes a pipe around. Eventually, Uthrus begins to ask you a number of questions concerning your beliefs and practices.
When they learn that you are trying to protect as much of the wilds from incursions by the Imperials, they seem surprised and pleased. They speak some of what their customs entail (most of which you have already learned from Wamic). Talk then turns to magic.
They have heard tales of the things you are capable of and wish to learn some of your magic. They ask if you are willing to teach them the secret of the "grasping roots" that they have heard about through Ilrath. (I assume that you are willing, based on our earlier conversations. However, if I recall correctly, you didn't have it prepared for that day.) You explain the idea behind the spell, which they seem to grasp readily enough. You promise to provide a demonstration on the following day.
Uthrus offers to teach you some magic in return. He has noticed that none in your group can speak the barbarian tongue. He says that his people have a way to draw upon the wisdom of their ancestors who have spoken many tongues over the years. When the proper invocations are said, you can hear the voices of the ancestors speak words you understand, even when someone is saying them in an unfamiliar language. He and the other shamans will teach you these invocations in exchange for your teachings about the "grasping roots". (In effect, you can add the Comprehend Languages spell to your available spells to prepare. But, due to the source of the spell, you can only understand the spoken word and it only functions in the lands of the barbarian ancestors. You have no idea how far those lands extend. But the shamans can assure you that they range at least as far north as the Stone Tooth and at least as far east as Glynden.)
While they teach you the way to call upon their ancestors, you talk of other things. They learn of your fondness for brewing. They explain that they too enjoy a good beer at times. They also talk about the ways that they can imbue some of their drinks with magic. You say that this is a practice that is common among the druid order you come from and that although you are interested in it, you have never done it. They agree to show you the ways of magical brewing in the hopes that you will come back and teach them more of your magic after you return from the dwarven mountain.
With that, you part for the evening and walk back to Rilaga. There, Hrongar speaks to the gathered warriors about the agreements that have been struck with you and the others from Glynden. He speaks about your journey to bring the dwarves into the battle on the side of the barbarians (this especially excites the Brigantes). All of the other chiefs who have signed the "treaty" make speeches too. There is much drinking of beer and banging of swords and axes on shields. All in all, more people and hoopla than you are comfortable with. You depart the village, seeking solace in the woodland night.
As you depart the firelight, a hand grips your arm and you turn to see Orthula's face in the moonlight. Wordlessly, she leads you deeper into the woods. Eventually you are far enough from the village and close enough to a stream that the sound of the water drowns out the sounds of the celebration. There on the bank of the stream she offers herself to you.
(If you choose not to accept her offer, skip the next paragraph. Oh hell, read it anyway. You might as well at least know what you're missing. Either way, just look over at me and shake your head yes or no so I know your answer.) *He went for it!*
(I figured you'd go for it) Having never known the touch of a "civilized" woman, many of Orthula's ways of lovemaking are unshocking. But when she is fully taken in the moment, her…ferocity is such that you are briefly reminded of your encounter with the Wood Wife many years ago *GM Note - This was an event described in the character's background where he was tricked into losing his virginity with a woodland spirit*. Afterwards, you lie together wrapped in her heavy fur cloak. You sting from the welts and cuts left from her teeth and nails but you sleep a peaceful and exhausted sleep that has not been yours in quite some time. Here in this untamed land, lying in the arms of a clearly untamed woman, you almost, almost feel at home. It is only in the dark hours of the morning that you wake alone and cold. But your shaking is not from the cold. It is from the dream that awakened you. A dream where blackened tongues raised inhuman howls to the sky and dark figures danced in the light of giant bonfires that boiled huge iron kettles.
In the next couple of days, you spend nearly all of your time in the woods away from Rilaga teaching and learning. Despite your earlier encounter, Orthula is civil but hardly flirtatious. You learn a great deal about the ancestral hero worship of the barbarians and the totem spirits that their heroes embody. As the time draws near for you to depart for the Stone Tooth, Orthula visits you again. Again there are no words exchanged but this time she leaves you with a pouch containing the herbs necessary for brewing your own magical potions (200gp worth).
As you depart for the north, you cannot say that your spirit is at rest. In the distance, dozens of axes can be heard, biting the forest as the barbarians prepare the poles for their palisade. Whether the trees of this largely virgin forest are destined for barbarian fortresses or Orcish bonfires you cannot say. But the bitter wind whispers in your ears that this land will never be the same.
Info for Krase
You spend most of the next three days and nights in the almost constant company of Ilrath. He is able to serve as translator for you in trying to get the other tribesmen to understand your instructions about building fortifications.
At times you find yourself pausing to reflect on how much you distrusted Ilrath when you first met him. Your grandfather would never have believed your story had you told him that someday you would be companion to a barbarian. Had you told him that the folk of Glynden would be fighting a war on the same side as the barbarians, he would have beaten you for drinking all of grandfather Wakenzaki's beer. *GM Note - An old dwarven friend of Krase's grandfather was a close friend to the family and helped raise Krase. The dwarf bore the rather odd name of Wakenzaki and was renowned for his excellent beer*.
But here you are, trying to get the barbarians to understand how to build a fortress. Never before has such a sharp line been drawn between your grandfather's generation and yours.
In your spare moments, you teach what you can remember of the fighting techniques that Wakenzaki taught, should you ever meet an Orc. It isn't much, but it keeps your hands busy. Hands that would far rather be plunging one of your gladii into the belly of the Gnolls left on the homeward shore of the Fodor. You will return to deal with them soon enough. For now the Orcs will have to do.
Not soon enough, you find your friends, including Ilrath, and yourself with your feet on a path to the north. The day is clear and cold. Behind you as well as eastward are those who depend on you to do your duty. Before you are allies to be made and enemies to be slain. You can't think of a better way to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.
Info for Rhys
With Speaks With Stone occupied talking to the tribal shamans and Krase and Ilrath spending all day talking to the other barbarians about palisades and fortifications, you find yourself at loose ends. To be certain, you feel a sense of accomplishment at having secured the oaths of three of the tribes who wish the aid of the forces of Glynden. You look forward to locating and negotiating with the dwarves of the Stone Tooth where warm hearths are sure to be in greater abundance. But for now, you are somewhat bored and frustrated.
There are a few girls about and it is clear that they are curious to get a look at the outlanders (no doubt especially the one who moves with the grace of a cat but speaks with a tongue of silver). But your lack of understanding of their language provides a barrier to any meaningful conversations. And any hopes of communicating in the "universal language" are quickly dampened by the presence of a couple hundred uncivilized berserker warriors who all seem to have been born with an axe in their hands and a chip on their shoulders.
For the first time you can recall in a long while, you are alone and have nobody to talk to.
Your thoughts turn to the arcane ritual that you spoke about with Speaks With Stone. *GM Note - Rhys had just leveled to 2nd and was now a full fledged Sorcerer (instead of a 0/0 apprentice level Rogue/Sorcerer) and as such wanted to summon a familiar which would require 100gp worth of materials and a full day ritual*. In the morning, you see him wandering into the village with a confused and concerned look on his face. His back is probably killing him from sleeping on a bunch of tree roots somewhere since he certainly wasn't in his bunk last night. No matter. After a brief conversation with him, he directs you to speak with Krusk, shaman of the Coritani.
Krusk seems anxious to return to whatever Speaks and the other shamans are doing, but he listens to your request for the ingredients required for the ritual. He tells you that the herbs, incense and candle necessary are rare and hard to find. He asks if you have anything in trade.
Casting about on your person for anything of value, you come upon the pair of spiked gauntlets that have been tangled in the bottom of your pack these last few days. (If you don't want to trade the gauntlets, you don't have to. But you will need to provide something of approximately 100gp value to give for the ingredients. If you decide not to trade the gauntlets, just let me know and skip the next paragraph). *He opted to trade the gauntlets*
Krusk examines the gauntlets and notes the smith mark on them. He tells you that he cannot trade the ingredients for the gauntlets because it would not be fair to you. He then asks you to wait. He leaves and returns in a few minutes. In exchange for the gauntlets, he offers you the ingredients you request as well as a "magic writing" that was captured on one of the many raids against the people of the northland villages. The "magic writing" is a scroll that includes the spells Detect Undead, Grease and Levitate on it. You accept.
You stash the scroll in your gear and gather a few items from your spartan quarters including one of the smaller braziers, some unburned coals and a hunk of fresh venison. You then seek an area outside the village that isn't occupied by barbarians felling trees at the direction of Krase and Ilrath. Although you had to walk more than a mile, you manage to locate a clearing, free of any distractions and with grass thick enough to provide a comfortable seat. You begin your ritual.
You carefully crumble the herbs into a coarse powder and then walk the perimeter of the clearing, sprinkling them as you go. Returning to the middle of the clearing, you sit in the middle for a time and go through the process of relaxing each muscle in your body until you are almost in a trance. With your body relaxed, your mind has no choice but to follow. You then begin to place the coals in the brazier, one at a time, holding each one for a moment, feeling its shape and texture. With the coals in the brazier, you place the incense among it and ignite the candle and in turn use the candle to light the coals. The scent of the incense, pleasantly sweet, reaches your nostrils. You close your eyes.
After an indeterminate time you reopen your eyes to find the coals glowing a uniform orange. You stare into the coals, timing your breathing and begin to feel words building behind your lips. You accept them as they come and begin to chant. As each word comes forth, you do more than speak it, you cast it far out into the wilds.
Finally the stream of words dries up and exhausted, you rest. When you feel that you can stand, you rise to your feet and walk to the edge of the clearing and place the venison on the ground. You return to where you sat, legs feeling like lead and sit again. Now you wait.
Sometime later, a rustling in the leaves at the edge of the clearing causes your eyes to slowly open. A small slender form perches by the venison and watches you. As you gaze on, it takes a small bite of the venison. It appears to be a weasel or civet of largish size and female. It takes another bite of the venison.
Presently, you "feel" rather than hear, "What is it you want?"
"I want your companionship," you reply.
"And what do you offer in return?"
"I offer long life and fresh red meat without struggle. And I offer my friendship."
"And what do you ask in return?"
"I ask for aid in my endeavors, such as are in your power. I will ask for wisdom, and I will ask for your friendship."
The weasel pauses to consider and takes the opportunity to tear another shred from the venison. Then, "Done."
A smile comes to your face for the first time in hours. You reach out on the link you've established. "Thank you. I swear that you will be my dearest companion and I will never put your life in danger."
In reply, the weasel sends, "I am a trickster, just as you are. Your hollow words do not offend me, but neither do I believe them. For such as we, seldom will be the nights when we are not in danger. Nevertheless, I swear to be your dearest companion and to aid you in your hunt."
"But I am not a hunter."
"You will be."
The following day passes quickly for you as you begin to grow used to the new presence in your mind. You decide on a name for your friend *He ultimately decided on Tavis* and begin to consider what it will be like to have someone to whom you can never lie be your constant companion. You find your spirits high as your companions and you put your feet on the road to the north. Regardless of what dangers lie ahead, you know that you will never be alone again. And you suspect that it won't be long before you will wish you were bored again.
*GM Note - I stole a lot of the familiar summoning ritual from the book Jhereg by Stephen Brust. If you haven't read it, you should.*
NEXT: A Momentary Lapse of Reason