Rel's Faded Glory III: Glory Reborn (FINAL UPDATE 6/22 - SHE'S DONE, BABY!!)
Rel
Liquid Awesome
Marius hit the streets later that afternoon, still somewhat unsure about what Felix had revealed to him about the blade he carried. But there was little time to concern himself with that. He needed to find out whatever else he could about the political wrangling going on and try to get an audience with Gracchus. He headed toward some of the taverns near the Capital buildings to see what he could turn up.
Among the first bits of information that surfaced was that the Druid Circle had just yesterday come forward with the bold proclamation that they would “stop the Orcish fleet”. They indicated that their mastery of the elements and weather would allow them to take the battle to the ocean and sink the ships before they ever threatened the Empire. They had departed this morning and it would probably be a couple days before anyone knew if they’d been successful. Word of their success or failure would likely come from the Wizards at the Imperial War College who were attempting to keep up regular Scrying on the fleet as it came farther south.
This move by the Druid Circle would be a huge coup if successful. They had fallen out of favor of late when it became obvious that there had been a split in the group. They had gone before the Senate and explained that the exiles were an “outlaw faction”, led by Feathers In Flight and furthered by his student in the Northlands, Speaks With Stone. These men and those who followed them were reported to have ties to Bane and were known to have visited an old Temple of Bane hidden somewhere deep in the Dark Wood where they were most probably continuing his worship. However, they had not counted on a partial refutation of this from an unexpected quarter: The Church of St. Cuthbert.
It happened that one of their Inquisitors had only just recently returned from the Northlands where he had had opportunity to observe and question this “Speaks With Stone” and found him lacking any taint of evil or corruption. He further testified before the Senate that not only had Speaks been found free of corruption or any signs of being a Bane worshipper, but had been integral to an attack on an Army of the Dead, bent on the destruction of Glynden, the last Imperial stronghold in the northern Northlands. Further, he had been told by numerous witnesses that Speaks and his companions played a large role in defeating an army of Orcs who were adherents of Bane that had invaded the Fodor Valley from the Blackpeaks.
This had cast all manner of doubt upon the tales woven by the Druid Circle and they had found themselves on shaky political ground ever since. But if they were successful in destroying the Orcish Fleet then there was no doubt that all would be forgiven and they would have the thanks of the Empire and Emperor.
Marius also managed to find someone who knew a top aide to Gracchus and sent word that he had information that might be of use to the Senator. By nightfall, word had returned to him that the Senator was impossibly busy until further notice as the Senate was in almost constant session as they attempted to come to terms with the Oricsh invasion. The aide did ask that Marius send a location where he could be found over the next few days, expressing that the Senator would see him as his schedule allowed.
Frustrated but unable to see a better solution, Marius said that he could be found in The Eagle’s Rest, the finest inn in Emor. He then proceeded to head there and rent a room for the next week. It was expensive by normal standards, but for a man who’d been to Hell and back and turned to Stone, all within a day, it was a luxury that he happily afforded himself. And there was a fine and equally expensive brothel down the street that he’d been meaning to check out.
The following day he made an appearance at the Imperial Explorer’s Society. He found few members there, which did not surprise him. Since most of the members spent the majority of their time in the field, it was never crowded in the first place. And now the few officials who administered the place were over at the Capital, no doubt trying to give over what little information they had about the area from which this army of Orcs had originated. They probably had some of Marius’ earlier notes on the Blackpeaks in their hands right now.
He conversed with those few who remained, attempting to determine their political stance. Unsurprisingly he found them to be firmly allied in the camp of the Emperor and his top advisor, Pontius, on the matter of the invasion of the Northlands. They seemed to view the Orcs as a minor problem that would cause an annoying delay in the conquest of the Northlands. Once the Orcish Fleet was dispatched and any stragglers who made landfall put to the sword, they could continue plans for the spring campaign into the Fodor Valley where the scouts of the Imperial Explorer’s Society would prove most useful.
Marius departed having given no useful information in exchange for the useless information he had taken from the IES. His frustration mounting, he returned to The Eagle’s Rest and found no message from Gracchus. And that meant it was time to visit that brothel.
Among the first bits of information that surfaced was that the Druid Circle had just yesterday come forward with the bold proclamation that they would “stop the Orcish fleet”. They indicated that their mastery of the elements and weather would allow them to take the battle to the ocean and sink the ships before they ever threatened the Empire. They had departed this morning and it would probably be a couple days before anyone knew if they’d been successful. Word of their success or failure would likely come from the Wizards at the Imperial War College who were attempting to keep up regular Scrying on the fleet as it came farther south.
This move by the Druid Circle would be a huge coup if successful. They had fallen out of favor of late when it became obvious that there had been a split in the group. They had gone before the Senate and explained that the exiles were an “outlaw faction”, led by Feathers In Flight and furthered by his student in the Northlands, Speaks With Stone. These men and those who followed them were reported to have ties to Bane and were known to have visited an old Temple of Bane hidden somewhere deep in the Dark Wood where they were most probably continuing his worship. However, they had not counted on a partial refutation of this from an unexpected quarter: The Church of St. Cuthbert.
It happened that one of their Inquisitors had only just recently returned from the Northlands where he had had opportunity to observe and question this “Speaks With Stone” and found him lacking any taint of evil or corruption. He further testified before the Senate that not only had Speaks been found free of corruption or any signs of being a Bane worshipper, but had been integral to an attack on an Army of the Dead, bent on the destruction of Glynden, the last Imperial stronghold in the northern Northlands. Further, he had been told by numerous witnesses that Speaks and his companions played a large role in defeating an army of Orcs who were adherents of Bane that had invaded the Fodor Valley from the Blackpeaks.
This had cast all manner of doubt upon the tales woven by the Druid Circle and they had found themselves on shaky political ground ever since. But if they were successful in destroying the Orcish Fleet then there was no doubt that all would be forgiven and they would have the thanks of the Empire and Emperor.
Marius also managed to find someone who knew a top aide to Gracchus and sent word that he had information that might be of use to the Senator. By nightfall, word had returned to him that the Senator was impossibly busy until further notice as the Senate was in almost constant session as they attempted to come to terms with the Oricsh invasion. The aide did ask that Marius send a location where he could be found over the next few days, expressing that the Senator would see him as his schedule allowed.
Frustrated but unable to see a better solution, Marius said that he could be found in The Eagle’s Rest, the finest inn in Emor. He then proceeded to head there and rent a room for the next week. It was expensive by normal standards, but for a man who’d been to Hell and back and turned to Stone, all within a day, it was a luxury that he happily afforded himself. And there was a fine and equally expensive brothel down the street that he’d been meaning to check out.
The following day he made an appearance at the Imperial Explorer’s Society. He found few members there, which did not surprise him. Since most of the members spent the majority of their time in the field, it was never crowded in the first place. And now the few officials who administered the place were over at the Capital, no doubt trying to give over what little information they had about the area from which this army of Orcs had originated. They probably had some of Marius’ earlier notes on the Blackpeaks in their hands right now.
He conversed with those few who remained, attempting to determine their political stance. Unsurprisingly he found them to be firmly allied in the camp of the Emperor and his top advisor, Pontius, on the matter of the invasion of the Northlands. They seemed to view the Orcs as a minor problem that would cause an annoying delay in the conquest of the Northlands. Once the Orcish Fleet was dispatched and any stragglers who made landfall put to the sword, they could continue plans for the spring campaign into the Fodor Valley where the scouts of the Imperial Explorer’s Society would prove most useful.
Marius departed having given no useful information in exchange for the useless information he had taken from the IES. His frustration mounting, he returned to The Eagle’s Rest and found no message from Gracchus. And that meant it was time to visit that brothel.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
Cathal’s feet pounded the tundra rhythmically and tirelessly as he headed back south. The sun was going down and an icy chill was settling across the late winter of the Northlands but he sweated profusely from the physical exertion of his steady run. He would perhaps stop and make a small fire soon and melt some snow for drinking. But he would keep running until well into the night before he briefly slept.
Behind him, just barely visible jutting over the horizon, was the tip of the Stone Tooth. There he had given the Dwarven stewards of the Glitterhame the plea from his people. The Dwarves had explained in return that they were already mobilizing the warriors they had present. For an Edict Stone had arrived from the Novantae clans warning of a “Red menace rising in the west”. They did not know what this was in reference to, but considered the possibility that it referred to the Crimson Eagle standard of the Empire.
Regardless, they stated rather unequivocally that they would not and could not directly oppose the Imperial Legions unless they came under direct attack by them. Happy though they were to have the Fodor tribes as neighbors, they simply had no where near enough troops to oppose the Legions. And unlike the tribesmen, they were ill suited for hit and run fighting. And so, with a grim handshake, they had sent the Brigante back to his people to bear the news.
Now Cathal was running to his chieftain to tell him of his failed mission. His step faltered for a moment and he slowed to a walk, his great loping steps still covering more than twice the distance of a normal man. Then he set about finding a dead tree to break firewood from and hoped that Speaks was faring better in his attempt to talk sense into the Suevi.
--------------------------------
Speaks stood in the center of the gathered shamans as he concluded his address to them. “I know that you are reluctant to put aside your tribal ways. And I’m not asking you to. But if you are to remain the strong trunk from which your tribes branch then you must act to make use of the strength that nature can offer you.”
They regarded him with expressions varying from rapt curiosity to abject suspicion. He could tell that his words alone would not suffice and that did not surprise him. The force of his words had never served him as well as the force of his actions had, even among those who respected him. It was time that he showed then what his powers could do.
“Gather close around me,” he told them. Then, “Come, Scipio.”
------------------------------------------
A sizable bonfire had been lit earlier and new logs were added to cast enough light that the gathered warriors could see the chieftains who would address them. In the dim recesses of the night lurked the women who feared for the fates of their husbands and children in the coming invasion. They could feel their whole way of life slipping away but, unlike their men, they would not be able to directly confront the invaders or be allowed the luxury of a quick death in battle. They were consigned to slavery and, worse yet, witnessing the enslavement of their children.
Relmar sat upon a chair that had been draped in furs and clutched a thick, wooden club that had its head carved in the likeness of a mountain lion, totem of his tribe. He magnanimously gestured to Urdrax, indicating that he could address the gathered warriors and shamans. The gesture left little doubt that Relmar was the one holding court here.
The barrel-chested Brigante stood from his own chair and stepped near the fire. “Time is short and so short shall be my words to you here tonight. You all know that the Imperials are camped upon our southern shores and that they meant to take our land, our families, our ways from us. But this may not yet come to pass.”
He continued, “I have received word today that ships gather to take these warriors back to their homes. Homes that are threatened by the same Orcs who came against us only last year. I do not know if they will all retreat or if they will march into our lands when the river swells. But I do know that if we attack them then their pride will force them northward and that they will not stop until we are in their grasp.
Our hope lies in bending away from their march, like a tall tree bends in the wind. We must give them time to understand that there is no glory to be had here on the banks of the Fodor. We must give them time to worry for their families that live in their hot homelands, threatened by the foulness of the Orcs. Let them think of those they love going into the cookpots of the Orcs and they will cease to think of us as their enemy.”
Urdrax’s voice rose in challenge, “But if we try to stand fast before their might then they will break us like the tree that does not bend! And they will take from us slaves and treasure and land! And they will have a reason to take and take until they have all of us!
Our hope lies in giving them nothing! We will retreat before them, leaving no stores, no game, no battle, no spoils! Only the emptiness of our cold homeland while their Empire is threatened by the inhuman Orcs! That is not the victory they need and they will leave our lands with the names of our tribes bitter on their tongues! And they will not return.”
A shout went up from some of the warriors, mostly those of the Brigantes and Corritani. But the shouts were neither loud nor long for retreat was not something easily cheered for among the proud Fodor men. As these cries died on the night, Urdrax sat and Relmar stood.
“I am troubled. Troubled to hear such words uttered by a proud man like Urdrax. Who led our people so well at his fortress where Hrongar fell. But now that place seems more a prison than a fortress. It has walled in his mind with thoughts of retreat and defense!
When have these been the ways of our people?! When did we become villagers who hide and peek from behind the trees while our homes are taken and burned?! We are a warrior people! And warriors make WAR!” A cry shot up from the Suevi warriors and was carried on the voices of more than just a few others.
“If the Imperials wish to come into our lands then let them! But they will find it no easy march through the country! They will find our arrows raining upon them from the hills! They will feel the bite of our steel against their sentries and those they send to forage! They will find their baggage trains burned and looted! Urdrax is right! They will give up their attempt to conquer our lands! But not because we have made it easy! They will give up because they will know that these lands are those of WARRIORS!!” Another cry went up and this one was louder than the last.
“If Urdrax or Hrothan will not lead this battle then I will lead it. It is my lands that are most threatened by these Imperial marauders! And my warriors will stand with me! But if those of you from the north wish to fight like the warriors you are, then stay here with ME! If your own leaders will only lead you away from your enemies, then come to my tribe and I will lead you to VICTORY!” The cry this time came from a substantial majority of the warriors and more than just a couple of the shamans.
But a deep, growling voice came from the darkness, “You will lead them to death.” Heads spun, eyes turned and peered into the darkness, searching desperately for whoever would defy Relmar in his own camp. Out of the blackness stalked the enormous, prowling figure of Scipio.
His growling voice boomed again, “Do you think these Legions came here thinking that you would not fight them? Do you think they expect you to step aside as they conquer your lands? They did not bring a band of skirmishers to take your valley. They have an army of THOUSANDS!! Even if they withdraw many to the Empire, they will be left with an army far larger than that of the Orcs you faced last year. And you have how many men to oppose them? Half of those who fought at Hrongar’s Hill? Try and bring battle to them and you will be crushed!”
The gathered warriors stared in frank amazement. Here in the circle before them stood the giant, menacing figure of the Suevi totem. Relmar seemed a frail doll in the face of such muscled might. Silence ruled the night until Scipio took up his speech once more.
“But that is exactly what the Legions expect. And so you shall not give it to them. Instead, let their own expectations work against them. They expect attack and so they will travel slowly. The further they go without opposition, the more they will get the feeling that you are planning something they have not foreseen. They will grow more cautious still.
Their supply lines will stretch longer, requiring more men to guard them and STILL you will not attack. Their advance will slow as they have fewer and fewer men to guard their lengthening flanks until they are moving at no more than a crawl. And they will still not have bloodied their swords. Still not have slain a single Fodor warrior. Still not have a single bit of treasure to show for their efforts.
All the while, the Orcs pillage and burn across their homeland. Their lands invite attack from their neighbors while they sit far, far from those threats in a cold and foreign land that has yielded NOTHING for their efforts. Their morale will start to crumble and their army will begin to die. Not from your spears and arrows. But from desertions of men who long to be at home where they can defend their families, just as you long to defend yours.”
The Dire Mountain Lion paused and let the silence take hold again in the night. “THAT is when it will be time to strike! THAT is when your enemy will be weak! THAT is when you will have some hope of making a difference with your battles! But NOT NOW!
Right now, the Imperials can only offer you one thing in return for your battles and that is death…” His voice trailed off, leaving only the ominous sound of the giant cat’s breathing.
There seemed nothing to say and so no one did.
Behind him, just barely visible jutting over the horizon, was the tip of the Stone Tooth. There he had given the Dwarven stewards of the Glitterhame the plea from his people. The Dwarves had explained in return that they were already mobilizing the warriors they had present. For an Edict Stone had arrived from the Novantae clans warning of a “Red menace rising in the west”. They did not know what this was in reference to, but considered the possibility that it referred to the Crimson Eagle standard of the Empire.
Regardless, they stated rather unequivocally that they would not and could not directly oppose the Imperial Legions unless they came under direct attack by them. Happy though they were to have the Fodor tribes as neighbors, they simply had no where near enough troops to oppose the Legions. And unlike the tribesmen, they were ill suited for hit and run fighting. And so, with a grim handshake, they had sent the Brigante back to his people to bear the news.
Now Cathal was running to his chieftain to tell him of his failed mission. His step faltered for a moment and he slowed to a walk, his great loping steps still covering more than twice the distance of a normal man. Then he set about finding a dead tree to break firewood from and hoped that Speaks was faring better in his attempt to talk sense into the Suevi.
--------------------------------
Speaks stood in the center of the gathered shamans as he concluded his address to them. “I know that you are reluctant to put aside your tribal ways. And I’m not asking you to. But if you are to remain the strong trunk from which your tribes branch then you must act to make use of the strength that nature can offer you.”
They regarded him with expressions varying from rapt curiosity to abject suspicion. He could tell that his words alone would not suffice and that did not surprise him. The force of his words had never served him as well as the force of his actions had, even among those who respected him. It was time that he showed then what his powers could do.
“Gather close around me,” he told them. Then, “Come, Scipio.”
------------------------------------------
A sizable bonfire had been lit earlier and new logs were added to cast enough light that the gathered warriors could see the chieftains who would address them. In the dim recesses of the night lurked the women who feared for the fates of their husbands and children in the coming invasion. They could feel their whole way of life slipping away but, unlike their men, they would not be able to directly confront the invaders or be allowed the luxury of a quick death in battle. They were consigned to slavery and, worse yet, witnessing the enslavement of their children.
Relmar sat upon a chair that had been draped in furs and clutched a thick, wooden club that had its head carved in the likeness of a mountain lion, totem of his tribe. He magnanimously gestured to Urdrax, indicating that he could address the gathered warriors and shamans. The gesture left little doubt that Relmar was the one holding court here.
The barrel-chested Brigante stood from his own chair and stepped near the fire. “Time is short and so short shall be my words to you here tonight. You all know that the Imperials are camped upon our southern shores and that they meant to take our land, our families, our ways from us. But this may not yet come to pass.”
He continued, “I have received word today that ships gather to take these warriors back to their homes. Homes that are threatened by the same Orcs who came against us only last year. I do not know if they will all retreat or if they will march into our lands when the river swells. But I do know that if we attack them then their pride will force them northward and that they will not stop until we are in their grasp.
Our hope lies in bending away from their march, like a tall tree bends in the wind. We must give them time to understand that there is no glory to be had here on the banks of the Fodor. We must give them time to worry for their families that live in their hot homelands, threatened by the foulness of the Orcs. Let them think of those they love going into the cookpots of the Orcs and they will cease to think of us as their enemy.”
Urdrax’s voice rose in challenge, “But if we try to stand fast before their might then they will break us like the tree that does not bend! And they will take from us slaves and treasure and land! And they will have a reason to take and take until they have all of us!
Our hope lies in giving them nothing! We will retreat before them, leaving no stores, no game, no battle, no spoils! Only the emptiness of our cold homeland while their Empire is threatened by the inhuman Orcs! That is not the victory they need and they will leave our lands with the names of our tribes bitter on their tongues! And they will not return.”
A shout went up from some of the warriors, mostly those of the Brigantes and Corritani. But the shouts were neither loud nor long for retreat was not something easily cheered for among the proud Fodor men. As these cries died on the night, Urdrax sat and Relmar stood.
“I am troubled. Troubled to hear such words uttered by a proud man like Urdrax. Who led our people so well at his fortress where Hrongar fell. But now that place seems more a prison than a fortress. It has walled in his mind with thoughts of retreat and defense!
When have these been the ways of our people?! When did we become villagers who hide and peek from behind the trees while our homes are taken and burned?! We are a warrior people! And warriors make WAR!” A cry shot up from the Suevi warriors and was carried on the voices of more than just a few others.
“If the Imperials wish to come into our lands then let them! But they will find it no easy march through the country! They will find our arrows raining upon them from the hills! They will feel the bite of our steel against their sentries and those they send to forage! They will find their baggage trains burned and looted! Urdrax is right! They will give up their attempt to conquer our lands! But not because we have made it easy! They will give up because they will know that these lands are those of WARRIORS!!” Another cry went up and this one was louder than the last.
“If Urdrax or Hrothan will not lead this battle then I will lead it. It is my lands that are most threatened by these Imperial marauders! And my warriors will stand with me! But if those of you from the north wish to fight like the warriors you are, then stay here with ME! If your own leaders will only lead you away from your enemies, then come to my tribe and I will lead you to VICTORY!” The cry this time came from a substantial majority of the warriors and more than just a couple of the shamans.
But a deep, growling voice came from the darkness, “You will lead them to death.” Heads spun, eyes turned and peered into the darkness, searching desperately for whoever would defy Relmar in his own camp. Out of the blackness stalked the enormous, prowling figure of Scipio.
His growling voice boomed again, “Do you think these Legions came here thinking that you would not fight them? Do you think they expect you to step aside as they conquer your lands? They did not bring a band of skirmishers to take your valley. They have an army of THOUSANDS!! Even if they withdraw many to the Empire, they will be left with an army far larger than that of the Orcs you faced last year. And you have how many men to oppose them? Half of those who fought at Hrongar’s Hill? Try and bring battle to them and you will be crushed!”
The gathered warriors stared in frank amazement. Here in the circle before them stood the giant, menacing figure of the Suevi totem. Relmar seemed a frail doll in the face of such muscled might. Silence ruled the night until Scipio took up his speech once more.
“But that is exactly what the Legions expect. And so you shall not give it to them. Instead, let their own expectations work against them. They expect attack and so they will travel slowly. The further they go without opposition, the more they will get the feeling that you are planning something they have not foreseen. They will grow more cautious still.
Their supply lines will stretch longer, requiring more men to guard them and STILL you will not attack. Their advance will slow as they have fewer and fewer men to guard their lengthening flanks until they are moving at no more than a crawl. And they will still not have bloodied their swords. Still not have slain a single Fodor warrior. Still not have a single bit of treasure to show for their efforts.
All the while, the Orcs pillage and burn across their homeland. Their lands invite attack from their neighbors while they sit far, far from those threats in a cold and foreign land that has yielded NOTHING for their efforts. Their morale will start to crumble and their army will begin to die. Not from your spears and arrows. But from desertions of men who long to be at home where they can defend their families, just as you long to defend yours.”
The Dire Mountain Lion paused and let the silence take hold again in the night. “THAT is when it will be time to strike! THAT is when your enemy will be weak! THAT is when you will have some hope of making a difference with your battles! But NOT NOW!
Right now, the Imperials can only offer you one thing in return for your battles and that is death…” His voice trailed off, leaving only the ominous sound of the giant cat’s breathing.
There seemed nothing to say and so no one did.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
BardStephenFox said:Heh - Scipio joining the discussion is classic.
Indeed. This was one of my favorite moments of the whole campaign because the way it played out was entirely unexpected. Speaks had indicated to me that he was going to Awaken Scipio as a demonstration of his Druidic power to the shamans. He wanted them to fully embrace nature as a whole instead of the facets they were drawing upon represented by their totems.
But what was truly amazing was when we rolled the new mental stats for Scipio. His Wisdom was about average and his Charisma was (I think) somewhat decent (maybe 12 or 13). But his Intelligence was an 18. So, in a single stroke, Speaks added the second most intelligent ally to their cause (after Lazarius). Many jokes were made about this but I had Scipio take on a powerful persona and he becomes even more central to the struggle of the Fodor tribes as the story moves forward.
A brief heads up for what is to come in the next few installments: There will be a brief interview between Marius and Senator Gracchus and then the Orcish invasion will begin in full. After that, the party is back in the thick of the action and it is a non-stop thrill ride pretty much for the rest of the campaign after that. Hope you enjoy.
BSF
Explorer
I figured Scipio had been awakened.
I really enjoyed the sheer shock value of his entrance. Speaks' efforts are wonderful so far. It is fun to watch Speaks operate because I appreciate the difference in perspective. Of course, I say this with a fine appreciation of Druids.
Stephen Fox, the PC behind my screen name, began as a Bard/Rogue type of character that eventually found spirituality. There are a lot of campaign specific elements to him, but he is currently Brd 7/Rog 3/Drd 3/ Lom 4 - the last is a homebrew PrC. In our campaign, Stephen's love is the party Druid (single class). When we need to talk with people about the Druids, Stephen is a very forceful type. He is almost an evangelist at this point, and with high Diplomacy and Perfom skills, he is somewhat effective. By contrast, Raven (the real druid) is quiet and wise, leading by example instead of lecture. But when she needs to get something done, well she is a high level druid and her magic is pretty impressive.
So I really appreciate the approach that Speaks took. He spoke his piece and then he demonstrated his power. Furthering that, he exploited a cultural element that would give him the opportunity to say something important that the tribesmen would have to listen to. When your totem steps forward to speak, you have a tendency to listen. It was well played and I appreciate the differing levels of persuassion that Speaks was working with.
So kudos to Speaks with Stone, and kudos to you as well Rel. It sounds like you gave Scipio a special mark in the game. I am definitely looking forward to more story with Scipio.
Not that the rest of the story isn't great. It is.
I really enjoyed the sheer shock value of his entrance. Speaks' efforts are wonderful so far. It is fun to watch Speaks operate because I appreciate the difference in perspective. Of course, I say this with a fine appreciation of Druids.
Stephen Fox, the PC behind my screen name, began as a Bard/Rogue type of character that eventually found spirituality. There are a lot of campaign specific elements to him, but he is currently Brd 7/Rog 3/Drd 3/ Lom 4 - the last is a homebrew PrC. In our campaign, Stephen's love is the party Druid (single class). When we need to talk with people about the Druids, Stephen is a very forceful type. He is almost an evangelist at this point, and with high Diplomacy and Perfom skills, he is somewhat effective. By contrast, Raven (the real druid) is quiet and wise, leading by example instead of lecture. But when she needs to get something done, well she is a high level druid and her magic is pretty impressive.
So I really appreciate the approach that Speaks took. He spoke his piece and then he demonstrated his power. Furthering that, he exploited a cultural element that would give him the opportunity to say something important that the tribesmen would have to listen to. When your totem steps forward to speak, you have a tendency to listen. It was well played and I appreciate the differing levels of persuassion that Speaks was working with.
So kudos to Speaks with Stone, and kudos to you as well Rel. It sounds like you gave Scipio a special mark in the game. I am definitely looking forward to more story with Scipio.
Not that the rest of the story isn't great. It is.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
“The Senator will see you now.” Marius had already put out of his mind the name of the aide who invited him into the nicely appointed office of Senator Gracchus. The villa he maintained outside Emor was modest but well maintained. It seemed that Gracchus did not possess as great a flair for excess as did many of the other senators. Or if he did, he displayed it in other ways besides his home.
The squat, thick-chested, grey-haired man did not rise from his marble topped desk as Marius came into the room. He was thumbing through a thick stack of dispatches from informants all over the capital and around the Empire. He absently gestured toward a comfortable looking, if somewhat worn, chair that sat opposite his own. His eyes did not leave the page he studied for several more seconds. Then, shaking his head, he laid the papers aside and turned his threadbare attention to the man in front of him.
“You’re Marius Flavius? Of the Imperial Explorers Society?”
“I am, sir. But it is not in the capacity as an official of the IES that I come to you.”
Gracchus raised an eyebrow, “That’s not what I was told. If this is about some kind of personal matter then you’ve come at an incredibly inopportune time and I’m afraid…”
Marius shook his hands in front of him and interrupted, “No, sir. What I’ve come to tell you is very pertinent to the crisis we face. But it does not directly involve the IES. I just used those credentials to get an audience with you.”
The Senator leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Speak then but I warn you that I have little time to waste and I’m not afraid to have you removed from my villa forcibly.”
“Fair enough, sir. I’ll get right to the point then: The lapse in the defenses of the Empire is no accident. The fact that our Legions are in a poor position to defend our lands was purposefully wrought by enemies of the Empire.”
Gracchus gave Marius a stony stare. “And who exactly do you think is behind this conspiracy? The Emperor himself?”
“Actually, my suspicions fall far more heavily on Senator Pontius, sir. And there may be a way to prove it.”
That clearly got the Senator’s attention. “What?! What is the proof you have?”
Marius knew that he had to handle this next bit carefully, but he had accomplished his first goal in identifying that Gracchus clearly was willing to gather information harmful to Pointius and the faction that supported the Emperor and his invasion of the Northlands. “It is largely circumstantial at the moment, but I deem it likely that if we start digging that we’ll find something more firm.” Marius saw the Senator’s face fall and quickly continued.
“Of course you know all about the rumors swirling around the death of Pontius’ first wife and his quick marriage to Solvaria.” The Senator nodded. “Well, I know for a fact that Solvaria is a Banite and I suspect that, if put to the question, that it would come to light that she had his first wife murdered. It may be that Pontius himself is a Banite.”
Gracchus gasped despite the cool demeanor he wished to display, “Pontius? A Banite?”
Marius quickly stepped in before Gracchus jumped to too many conclusions, “That is a possibility but is far from certain. But what is certain is that Solvaria helped to convince him to proceed with his plan of clearing the Corsairs from the Crescent Sea and invading the Northlands. And this was timed in such a way as to have many of our best, most battle hardened Legions across the sea just when they are needed here most.”
Gracchus was back on an even keel now and quickly drew the most obvious of conclusions, “If that is all true then it is certain that Pontius will be expelled from the Senate. And it might call into question the entire succession of Emperor Flavius…but why? Why would he do this? Senator Pontius already holds more power than anyone save the Emperor. Why put that in jeaopardy?”
“That is the reason that I suspect that he may be an unwitting dupe in the plans of his wife,” said Marius.
“’Unwitting dupe’? I’ve not gotten this far in my political career by underestimating my opponents, young master Flavius. Pontius is sharp as a gladius and I’ve seen him cut apart nearly all his foes in the Senate. I’ve feared that I might be next. An ‘unwitting dupe’, he is not.”
“But would you not agree, Senator, that sometimes the touch of a beautiful woman can make a man compromise himself in ways that all the foes in the world could not?” By the end of the question, Marius had a somewhat far off look in his eyes and his voice was nothing if not earnest.
Gracchus smiled, “You may well have a point there.”
Marius snapped from his reverie, his hand absently straying to a new sheath that hung at his side, “The only way this can be proved is by getting inside their villa to see if Solvaria retains any of the trappings of Bane. My companions and I believe it likely that she has an amulet like this one.” He drew from a pouch one of the ‘three spoked wheel’ pendants that had drawn the Inquisition to the Northlands the year previous. “They use them to communicate with one another at long distances.”
Gracchus eyed Marius with suspicion, “And how is it that you have one in your possession?”
“I cut it personally from the neck of one of their priests,” Marius answered coldly. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more cutting of Banite necks to do.” Marius rose from his chair. Ending the meeting on his terms was a bit of a breach in protocol and a gamble. But he wanted to be taken seriously, as the representative of a force to be reckoned with rather than a mere messenger.
The Senator seemed a bit shocked that Marius was calling an end to the meeting but stood anyway. His face was a distracted mix of emotions as the wheels were already turning as to how he could best exploit this new information. “It will take a bit of time but I may be able to intensify the whispering campaign against Pontius. If I can manage to get his wife implicated as a Banite then maybe the Inquisition will drag her sins into the light without me having to do anything overt…”
Marius nodded, “I have a highly ranked friend in the Church of St. Cuthbert. I’ll see if he can put in a word with the High Priest about that. Good day to you, Senator. I’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, yes. Please do! I’ll be happy to share any information I can turn up on my end. Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m in your debt.”
As Marius was escorted from the villa he smiled at a hook well set. His fishing expedition had gone well. Now it was time to do some hunting.
His hand went back to the hilt of his new dagger.
The squat, thick-chested, grey-haired man did not rise from his marble topped desk as Marius came into the room. He was thumbing through a thick stack of dispatches from informants all over the capital and around the Empire. He absently gestured toward a comfortable looking, if somewhat worn, chair that sat opposite his own. His eyes did not leave the page he studied for several more seconds. Then, shaking his head, he laid the papers aside and turned his threadbare attention to the man in front of him.
“You’re Marius Flavius? Of the Imperial Explorers Society?”
“I am, sir. But it is not in the capacity as an official of the IES that I come to you.”
Gracchus raised an eyebrow, “That’s not what I was told. If this is about some kind of personal matter then you’ve come at an incredibly inopportune time and I’m afraid…”
Marius shook his hands in front of him and interrupted, “No, sir. What I’ve come to tell you is very pertinent to the crisis we face. But it does not directly involve the IES. I just used those credentials to get an audience with you.”
The Senator leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Speak then but I warn you that I have little time to waste and I’m not afraid to have you removed from my villa forcibly.”
“Fair enough, sir. I’ll get right to the point then: The lapse in the defenses of the Empire is no accident. The fact that our Legions are in a poor position to defend our lands was purposefully wrought by enemies of the Empire.”
Gracchus gave Marius a stony stare. “And who exactly do you think is behind this conspiracy? The Emperor himself?”
“Actually, my suspicions fall far more heavily on Senator Pontius, sir. And there may be a way to prove it.”
That clearly got the Senator’s attention. “What?! What is the proof you have?”
Marius knew that he had to handle this next bit carefully, but he had accomplished his first goal in identifying that Gracchus clearly was willing to gather information harmful to Pointius and the faction that supported the Emperor and his invasion of the Northlands. “It is largely circumstantial at the moment, but I deem it likely that if we start digging that we’ll find something more firm.” Marius saw the Senator’s face fall and quickly continued.
“Of course you know all about the rumors swirling around the death of Pontius’ first wife and his quick marriage to Solvaria.” The Senator nodded. “Well, I know for a fact that Solvaria is a Banite and I suspect that, if put to the question, that it would come to light that she had his first wife murdered. It may be that Pontius himself is a Banite.”
Gracchus gasped despite the cool demeanor he wished to display, “Pontius? A Banite?”
Marius quickly stepped in before Gracchus jumped to too many conclusions, “That is a possibility but is far from certain. But what is certain is that Solvaria helped to convince him to proceed with his plan of clearing the Corsairs from the Crescent Sea and invading the Northlands. And this was timed in such a way as to have many of our best, most battle hardened Legions across the sea just when they are needed here most.”
Gracchus was back on an even keel now and quickly drew the most obvious of conclusions, “If that is all true then it is certain that Pontius will be expelled from the Senate. And it might call into question the entire succession of Emperor Flavius…but why? Why would he do this? Senator Pontius already holds more power than anyone save the Emperor. Why put that in jeaopardy?”
“That is the reason that I suspect that he may be an unwitting dupe in the plans of his wife,” said Marius.
“’Unwitting dupe’? I’ve not gotten this far in my political career by underestimating my opponents, young master Flavius. Pontius is sharp as a gladius and I’ve seen him cut apart nearly all his foes in the Senate. I’ve feared that I might be next. An ‘unwitting dupe’, he is not.”
“But would you not agree, Senator, that sometimes the touch of a beautiful woman can make a man compromise himself in ways that all the foes in the world could not?” By the end of the question, Marius had a somewhat far off look in his eyes and his voice was nothing if not earnest.
Gracchus smiled, “You may well have a point there.”
Marius snapped from his reverie, his hand absently straying to a new sheath that hung at his side, “The only way this can be proved is by getting inside their villa to see if Solvaria retains any of the trappings of Bane. My companions and I believe it likely that she has an amulet like this one.” He drew from a pouch one of the ‘three spoked wheel’ pendants that had drawn the Inquisition to the Northlands the year previous. “They use them to communicate with one another at long distances.”
Gracchus eyed Marius with suspicion, “And how is it that you have one in your possession?”
“I cut it personally from the neck of one of their priests,” Marius answered coldly. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some more cutting of Banite necks to do.” Marius rose from his chair. Ending the meeting on his terms was a bit of a breach in protocol and a gamble. But he wanted to be taken seriously, as the representative of a force to be reckoned with rather than a mere messenger.
The Senator seemed a bit shocked that Marius was calling an end to the meeting but stood anyway. His face was a distracted mix of emotions as the wheels were already turning as to how he could best exploit this new information. “It will take a bit of time but I may be able to intensify the whispering campaign against Pontius. If I can manage to get his wife implicated as a Banite then maybe the Inquisition will drag her sins into the light without me having to do anything overt…”
Marius nodded, “I have a highly ranked friend in the Church of St. Cuthbert. I’ll see if he can put in a word with the High Priest about that. Good day to you, Senator. I’ll be in touch.”
“Yes, yes. Please do! I’ll be happy to share any information I can turn up on my end. Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m in your debt.”
As Marius was escorted from the villa he smiled at a hook well set. His fishing expedition had gone well. Now it was time to do some hunting.
His hand went back to the hilt of his new dagger.
Tony Vargas
Legend
Didn't that dagger get Identified?
I wonder just how bad it is...
I wonder just how bad it is...
