The Politics of Tirchond

[Lester]

CISCERO'S KILL BOARD

Friends, Countrymen, Adventures, lend me your ears!

I Ciscero, your humble compatriat, . . . one who has seen adventure on both far shores and here, on Tirchond, . . . must tell you that, to this very day, several of your favorite adventures still reign supreme on Ciscero's KILL BOARD!!!

Yes, it is true that Mistress Sheeva, beguiling High Priestess of Coila, reigns superior to all others upon my KILL BOARD at mine own Gladitorial Arena, Ciscero's Palace of DEATH (only 2 sp cover charge for most events!)! Here is a tally of all kills for current adventures recorded by the epic Loremaster/DM the Jester during my travels:

1) Sheeva -20
2) Angel -8
3) Ciscero -8
4) Sybel -7

(All kills must take place in front of Ciscero, and Ciscero may declare higher kill scores for the defeat of more powerful foes.)

 

[Welverin]

Yay, more real updates!

the Commission on War and Peace.

The book is so popular it even gets it own commission in Cydra!

*While he was adventuring several years ago, Cicero kept a careful tally of the kills his fellow adventurers made while he was with them, especially inside the mountain called Firestorm Peak. Sheva?s still way ahead.

Kill boards are fun, I always liked checking how I was doing when I played Wing Commander.

Fonzi and Sonti, of course, are not entirely as they appear. They?re Forinthian spymasters, using their positions on Cicero?s staff to gather information on Tirchondian politics. Unfortunately, things have gotten weird for Forinthia lately.

I take it this is why you held off on posting immediately?

And that pretty well brings everyone up to date- to the point at which they'll all meet in the bar.

So who's fault is this?

 

[Mathew_Freeman]

More excellent stuff! Pipe 17b, eh?

 

[the Jester]

For the record:

Cydra: the Early Years

Haven't started posting the actual stories just yet, but I will soon!

 

[the Jester]

Below the Sewers

Seeing Clambake pouring over his maps, Sheva, curious, walks over and talks to him. "I'm a sewer expert," Clambake claims, "you'd be amazed what kind of treasure people lose down there! Arr!"

He points out the mysterious pipe to nowhere he's discovered and Sheva's interest is piqued. This could have to do with her mission- "beneath the sewers" and all that. She winks at the halfling Glaxo. "Need a hand?" she then asks Clambake, who assents in the interest before Cicero arrives, greeting Sheva eagerly (you must remember that Sheva's a hot redhead in a chain mail bikini with two greatswords). They reminisce briefly about their old times adventuring together through hazards such as Firestorm Peak, and then- as old adventurers are easily persuaded to do- Cicero agrees to accompany his old friend into the sewers. Especially because he has more than an inkling about something funny going on himself. Fonzi, one of the twins offer to accompany him, and down our heroes go. Sheva surreptitiously casts find the path and soon our heroes find themselves drawn to a vile pit of filth and sewage, beneath which the dwarf Clambake stumbles upon a grate.

To which Sheva nods decisively. It's just as her spell says. Nonetheless, the party is distracted by a strange recessing stone button in the wall that doesn't seem to do anything for what seems an interminable period; but finally leaving the red herring being, down Clambake goes (for who but a dwarf would be dirty enough to swim in such a morass?), tying off a rope to the grate below the surface of the effluvia. Then it's merely a matter of main strength to force open the grate- and our heroes have a fair amount of that!

Then down they all go, disproving the dwarf thesis after all, and soon enough they find themselves in a slender tunnel that leads out into a large cavern- bigger than they can see. They can hear echoes tapping from their footsteps, feel the gentle movement of air; the dripping sewage emerges from their tunnel and falls from the precipice they've emerged onto to spatter on the rock below.

Something feels weird in the air....


Next Time: What is the Egg of Na'Rat?

 

[the Jester]

"Wow," Glaxo breathes softly to himself.

The cavern is huge. Who'd've thought elves of all people would have put something important down here, so far beneath the city?

Descending a narrow path, the group tramps down a good hundred and fifty feet before spilling out on the floor of the giant cave. There are weird flowing formations and strange, calcified objects all around. Slowly they start a cursory search of the huge place. It takes only a few moments to discover that the center of the chamber holds a half-column, clearly sheared off at some point in the past. On the approach our heroes find three pools of odd, iridescent liquid.

Examination reveals the presence of abundant magic- and rapidly reveals that the place is at least partially filled with a wild zone. Magic won't work right here; it's bound to cause weird issues to arise when casting.

"Magic pools," Sheva murmurs, and for a few moments the group debates whether to drink, wash in, or ignore them. "I've heard all kinds of stories about these kinds of things," Sheva says, leaning towards drinking. Cicero regales them momentarily with a few tales of the many and varied magical pools in the literature; unfortunately, here in the wild zone, there seems no way to determine the pools' functions.

So, tiring of debate, Fonzi drinks.

There are three pools- one is purple, one red, the third yellow. Fonzi drinks of all of them in sequence, and discovers that the purple one seems to make him smarter at the cost of wisdom; the red one, stronger at the cost of health; and the yellow causes him to gain charisma at the cost of speed and balance.

Sheva drinks of the red pool as well, then the party moves on further towards the pillar.

At the top and center of it is a strange, crumbly rock. It's half-recessed in the stone, and our heroes set to work posthaste to extract it. Cicero by now is feeling misgivings; but he's cast his lot in with Sheva for the moment, and if all else fails he can try to rectify things later. Clambake is nearly salivating as they come closer and closer to breaking the Egg free. I'll know what to do with it, the dwarf thinks greedily, rubbing his callused hands together.

When it's liberated, however, Sheva and Glaxo take possession of it with promises that Clambake will get first crack at it. Reluctantly, he agrees, wondering whether he should trust the word of a pair of thieves, but figuring that, all other options failing, he can try to take it by force later.

And, reascending, our heroes split up for the moment.


Next Time: Murders in the Council chambers! Loose lips sink ships! Estelias starts acting funny! What's the egg for, anyway??

 

[the Jester]

Sheva, of course, has assassins’ business to attend to. She thinks back to the job she took- scare off Horly the Rabble-Rouser, one of the councilors- and smiles wickedly.

She goes to the Council chambers, under the influence of both invisibility and nondetection. She follows Horly around for a few minutes until one of his aides is sent off on an errand, then follows the aid into an empty room and kills her. Moving with grim efficiency, Sheva changes her appearance to match the victim’s, then cuts off her lips and hides her body.

Soon she’s hunted down another of Horly’s aids and killed him, taking his lips as well. A third aid will probably be enough, she presumes; and when Horly shortly opens the envelope with the lips and the message inside it, he’s clearly shaken up by it.

”Loose lips sink ships.”

Really, now.

Cicero, meanwhile, shows up for the Foreign Relations Commission’s reception of the new South Forinthian ambassador, Sir Alex Mayflower. He makes a short speech in which he acknowledges that there have been many strains in the relationships between Forinthia and Tirchond in the past, and explains that Forinthia is undergoing a period of civil war. “But we of South Forinthia will win; it is only a matter of time. And when we do, we will remember our friends and allies. And we would like to count Tirchond among them.”

“We have always been neutral,” objects Cicero. “Why would we join Forinthia now when we’ve only recently gained our independence from it?”

Sir Alex smiles. “We ask little of you; only that you agree to proclaim our faction the legitimate Forinthian authority. Forinthia will be back on top; it’s inevitable. Right now there are uncontrolled generals and admirals with armies and fleets who are answering only to themselves. I think it’s in everyone’s best interests to get them under control, wouldn’t you agree? Furthermore, as I said, we will remember your aid in these trying times and are prepared to offer you a formal treaty acknowledging Tirchond’s independent status.”

Naturally, the Commission wants to chew this over for a while, and most have other business to attend to as well. Cicero heads over to the Extraplanar Affairs Commission meeting with his traditional retinue, but is forced to leave them all behind. “Councilors only,” the guard insists, an unusual bit of stiffness obvious in his voice.

So Cicero goes in alone, and there are most of his fellow Commissioners- and Estelias, who’s not technically on this commission.

“There’s been trouble,” she announces peremptorily. “The whole point of this meeting is missing. The item has been stolen.” She gives Cicero a hard, suspicious look.

“Really?” Cicero says innocently. “Well, we should certainly do something about that. Let me get my aides, we’ll convene and-“

“There’s no meeting; the object is gone,” Estelias says emphatically.

“-see if we can get something done, I’ll send people to-“

“You’re not listening,” Estelias hisses, and says another word that leaves Cicero stunned and reeling, his words dropping to a low groan. “There’s no meeting. We’ll discuss this later, at greater length, but this item is of great import to our nation. It helps to protect us; in fact, it’s driven off the Forinthian forces twice in the past, just by moving it up into the sewers or another place where its influence can extend into their ranks.” She’s almost growling. “But it’s gone.”

“Oh, uh, well, any luck finding the perpetrators?” Cicero keeps his face carefully blank.

“We’re working on it,” Estelias snaps. It sounds almost like a threat. "We should talk about this."

"Of course we should," Cicero answers smoothly. "Say, over lunch tomorrow?" She nods; and though he's glad to have a date with her, he's a little worried.

Cicero slinks away.

Glaxo, meanwhile, is congratulated for his success. He’s officially inducted into the Thieves' Guild, and Walther (his contact and handler) gives him a final piece of action on the egg: he’s to help guard it when it’s auctioned off at 8 pm tomorrow. “And you’ll get a cut out of it, too, once we sell it off,” the ugly half-elf tells him.

“Don’t worry,” Sheva is simultaneously telling Clambake, “we’ll see to it that you get first crack at the rock.”

Clambake is annoyed, but he lets it go for now. He understands how these things work; he’s dealt with plenty of thieves’ guilds in his time. So he just insists that they let him know when it’s to be sold, to which Sheva agrees (and Walther is more than happy to allow Clambake entrance to the auction as well).

Not long after, Cicero arrives at the guildhall, looking for Sheva, and takes her out for a drink at the same bar where they previously met Clambake, who they meet again. “I’m not so sure we should’ve done what we did,” Cicero confesses. “After all, that thing did help protect our island.”

Sheva snorts. “It’s more trouble than help, and we’re going to help ‘protect’ our island by getting it out of here. We’ll be doing Tirchond a favor.”

“I’m taking it to Pesh,” Clambake slurs happily over his beer.

“Maybe,” Cicero says. “If you win at the auction. I wouldn’t be so sure of that just yet.” Glumly, he toasts “Tirchond as it was.”

“Still, it’s helped fight off the Forinthians before...” The two old companions discuss it at length over a pitcher of beer, and Cicero goes home unsatisfied, his thoughts awhirl. Has he betrayed his country? Should he try to buy the stone back? He doesn’t know, and it keeps him up worrying for more than an hour after he lies down in bed...


Next Time: Debating the merits of Forinthia! Metal hats! Ambassador Mayflower!

 

[Welverin]

Next Time:Metal hats!

Is this so outsiders can't read their minds?

 

[the Jester]

Metal Hats

Sheva muses over Cicero. She naps an hour each night, but otherwise rarely sleeps. She's amused by his peculiar ethics- always selling his vote and trading influence, but blanching at his reward from the thieves' guild. He had refused, muttering, "A person like me can't take money from a person like you... here," he'd decided, writing out a receipt, "thank you for your donation to, um, some charity, we'll look that up later..." And she was sure he would, too. A rare smile plays over her lips. Cicero could be useful.

In the morning, Cicero wakes up and dispatches a message to Estelias' home regarding their date, requesting her presence 'the sooner the better.' Then, feeling it's time to tackle another of his problems a little less obliquely, he takes Sonti and Fonzi, the twins, into his study and sits down to talk with him.

"Look," he says, "you seem very interested in the Forinthian ambassador, and you seem very receptive to him."

"Well, he's a human like me..."

Cicero cuts whichever one that was off. "Yeah, well, people around here largely don't feel the same way. Now, I'm neutral on the subject- but not everyone around here feels the same way. If you talk up Forinthia too much, you may invoke harsh feelings. Keep in mind that these people have been in the center of several invasions here, with Forinthia being involved in all of them."

"Maybe they don't see the benefits of Forinthian civilization," Sonti suggests.

Cicero pauses thoughtfully. "What benefits?" He stares at Sonti. "How would it benefit someone like me- not me, of course, but someone like me, in a similar position, with similar resources and goals- to aid them?"

"Salvation," Sonti says with a deep conviction.

"It's great," Fonzi says. "It will be powerful again. You heard the ambassador. Tirchond should be part of it."

"You can always go there," Cicero points out.

"Why go there when you can bring it here?"

"Well, you still haven't said how it would benefit someone who was substantially not me but was a lot like me to aid them, so I'll give you two a special mission: find out. But say nothing in public, you fools!" Forthwith he dispatches Fonzi with an invitation for the ambassador to meet him at a seedy bar.

Fonzi departs, heading to the inn the ambassador is staying in. Here he talks his way through the concierge, who goes to see if the ambassador's available. When he returns, however, he tells Fonzi that the ambassador is 'indisposed'. Fonzi therefore leaves a message for him, exhorting the ambassador to meet with Fonzi and his fellow humans. He does not, however, deliver Cicero's message, for which he is upbraided as ineffective by Cicero. This leads into a short debate on profanity and a sibling rivalry moment between the twins over who's the better diplomat.

While they're distracted, Cicero sneaks in a detect thoughts spell. The twins feel a mental intrusion but assume it's someone in the crowd, looking hungrily around for trouble. Cicero wants none of that, so he encourages their confusion, presses ten gold into Sonti's hand and sends him to go buy metal hats for all of them ("to interfere with mental influences and mind reading powers," Cicero claims). With a dubious look, Sonti goes.

When Cicero gives his aides their hour lunch break, Fonzi goes again to the ambassador's temporary residence. The concierge, thinking he's his twin, motions for him to wait and then hurries away, returning with a dwarf. "Are you Montanah*?" the dwarf growls. Fonzi nods. The dwarf gestures for him to follow and leads him from the inn.

Meanwhile, on the road to town, a small carriage drawn by garen is bouncing over the gravel. Within it- the last of our principals to enter the tale, Zeebo Swaysac, returning to the Shining City fresh from his re-election as Mayor of Swayzeville. A prodigious spellcaster, Zeebo is both wizard and sorcerer. Blessed- or perhaps cursed- by Chaos with enormous fertility, he has at least two children (that he knows of) and needs that cannot be entirely denied. Zeebo is another powerhouse in the Council, another member of the Commission on Extraplanar Affairs, and another old adventuring companion of both Sheva and Cicero. In fact, he is recently slain; were it not for Sheva's giving up of her sword Chronovestis, the Blade of Time, he would be depleted, weaker than he is. He owes her much and he knows it.

Zeebo sighs happily as he rolls up the town's road towards his modest home, but when he gets there he finds an ugent summons sealed in red wax- an urgent affair of state, and one that he missed, as it was set for last night! So he heads to the Council Chamber...

*Sonti's real name, and the one he left on the note for the ambassador.


Next Time: Military ideas, Fonzi meets Ambassador Mayflower, and a strange offer!

 

[Welverin]

Beware, Obscure cartoon reference!

How often to you play this one? What about the main game?

"Are you Montanah*?" the dwarf growls. Fonzi nods. The dwarf gestures for him to follow and leads him from the inn.

Is his last name Max?