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NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
Welcome to the Halmae (updated 2/27/07)
- Thread starter spyscribe
- Start date
Fajitas
Hold the Peppers
GURPS Ancient Egypt is your friend. Borrowed a copy from Blackjack. Though, amusingly enough, the Ancient China thing is kinda coincidental. The Forbidden City bit, yeah, that's pretty much Ancient China, but the wooden beards are actually Ancient Egypt.dpdx said:
Anyway, glad you like the historical detail.
Though I do feel compelled to publically apologize to Spyscribe for breaking one of my sacred rules. I thought it was really cool to give all the places authentic Ancient Egyptian names, and it didn't occur to me until much, much later that they are absolutely impossible to spell phonetically. Bad DM. Bad. Bad.
spyscribe
First Post
Part the One-Hundred Forty-Second
In which: the party finds that it’s hard to find a good cloak in Siunethrit, despite the cold nights.
“I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?” Lira repeats.
Gemil motions his assent as best he is able without benefit of a neck. “Yes. Just say that to Faaris the tailor when you go into his shop.”
Anvil shakes his head. “If you are deceiving us Gemil…”
Gemil gapes in mock horror. “Justicar… I’m shocked. We have an agreement.”
Eva lets out a long sigh. “Can we just get on with this?”
###
Walking the streets during the daylight hours for the first time, the party finds the composition of the passers-by has changed somewhat, namely that many more upper-class looking people out and about. The sun is shining fiercely and they cannot help but also notice that by and large the locals seem to get by wearing very little. Some small children run around completely naked. All clothing is light-colored linen and many men—and women—wear only small skirts as a concession to modesty.
Thatch gulps and keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the back of Eva’s head.
The party arrives at a small tailor shop in the mercantile district and is heartened to find that the sign overhead reads, “Faaris: Tailor.”
As Reyu stays outside to watch the door, the others enter.
The shop’s interior is dim and cool. The proprietor quickly comes forward to greet the party. “Hello, hello. I am Faaris. You are travelers here, yes?”
Lira smiles. “What gave us away?”
The man laughs with an easy grin. “A tailor can always tell. So, you are looking for something a little lighter for the heat of the day, yes?”
“Actually,” Lira says, “I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?”
Faaris’ smile abruptly vanishes. He stops talking and his eyes bug slightly.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” He bustles the party towards the door with great haste.
Lira tries to object, “Wh--?”
“I haven’t made cloaks in a very long time. I’m sure there’s someone else who can help you. Yes, that’s it. Sorry. We’re closed.”
And with that the party finds themselves back on the street in front of Faaris’ shop. The door closes with a solid thump, followed quickly after by the sound of a bolt turning.
###
Half an hour later, back at the inn:
“There’s one more place you can try… I have a friend at the university, a professor. Her name is Zariah. I had hoped not to trouble her directly, but… as we are running short on other options…”
“Are you certain she is still loyal to you?” Anvil demands.
“Oh, I’m sure of it.”
###
The University is almost like a walled city within a city, and beyond the gate can be glimpsed some of the strangest and most striking architecture in Siunethrit: buildings shaped like perfect spheres balanced atop cylinders, and a single cone that stretches over forty feet into the sky.
At the gate however, the party is stopped by a guard. He seems puzzled when the party tells him the object of their errand.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “Professor Zariah is no longer employed here.”
“Do you know where we can find her?” Lira asks.
“…At the Necropolis,” he says slowly.
“Oh.” Lira does her best to recover smoothly. “We were apparently misinformed.”
###
Half an hour later, back at the inn.
“Okay Gemil, we promised to make a good faith effort, and I think we’re reaching the end of ‘good faith.’”
Lira is not the only member of the party who is quickly approaching the end of her patience. The deal that Anvil made with Gemil was never particularly savory, but they are willing to uphold it. The amount of trouble they are willing to go to on behalf of the soul of an evil necromancer trapped in a golden skull is limited.
Gemil seems no more pleased to still be at the mercies of the party.
“Well,” he begins… “there is one more possibility…”
“No!” Lira interrupts. “No more possibilities. Give me a good reason why we shouldn’t just dump you in the river right now.”
“It wouldn’t be nice?”
“Try again.” Eva forces out from behind clenched teeth.
Gemil rolls his eyes to look at her. “I would rather negotiate with the Justicar, if you don’t mind.”
Anvil steps forward. “Then do so.”
“You wouldn’t really let them throw me in the river, would you? It would… hardly be in the spirit of our agreement.”
“We have made a good faith effort,” Anvil points out.
“What can I offer you for your continued aid?” Gemil asks.
Anvil shrugs. “Make an offer.”
“I could give you the opportunity to destroy a very powerful necromancer.”
“So you could take his place?” Eva asks.
Gemil looks thoughtful. “I suppose that would create a bit of a power vacuum. And you know how nature abhors that.”
“I didn’t think nature was too keen on necromancy either,” Eva mutters to herself and turns to the other side of the room where the others are huddled in low conversation.
###
“Will destroying the skull kill him?” Thatch asks.
Annika gestures helplessly, whispering back, “I don’t know. I’m not sure how the skull was made, I don’t know what result destroying it would have. I’m not even sure if we could.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not just a golden skull. It’s a magic item. That makes a difference. What if we just turned him over to the military?”
“Do you want to explain how we smuggled an evil necromancer trapped in a golden skull into the country under fake passports… Oh and by the way we’ve got two arcanists with us?” Eva asks.
“I guess not.”
“Okay…” says Lira. “How about this…?”
In which: the party finds that it’s hard to find a good cloak in Siunethrit, despite the cold nights.
“I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?” Lira repeats.
Gemil motions his assent as best he is able without benefit of a neck. “Yes. Just say that to Faaris the tailor when you go into his shop.”
Anvil shakes his head. “If you are deceiving us Gemil…”
Gemil gapes in mock horror. “Justicar… I’m shocked. We have an agreement.”
Eva lets out a long sigh. “Can we just get on with this?”
###
Walking the streets during the daylight hours for the first time, the party finds the composition of the passers-by has changed somewhat, namely that many more upper-class looking people out and about. The sun is shining fiercely and they cannot help but also notice that by and large the locals seem to get by wearing very little. Some small children run around completely naked. All clothing is light-colored linen and many men—and women—wear only small skirts as a concession to modesty.
Thatch gulps and keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the back of Eva’s head.
The party arrives at a small tailor shop in the mercantile district and is heartened to find that the sign overhead reads, “Faaris: Tailor.”
As Reyu stays outside to watch the door, the others enter.
The shop’s interior is dim and cool. The proprietor quickly comes forward to greet the party. “Hello, hello. I am Faaris. You are travelers here, yes?”
Lira smiles. “What gave us away?”
The man laughs with an easy grin. “A tailor can always tell. So, you are looking for something a little lighter for the heat of the day, yes?”
“Actually,” Lira says, “I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?”
Faaris’ smile abruptly vanishes. He stops talking and his eyes bug slightly.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t help you.” He bustles the party towards the door with great haste.
Lira tries to object, “Wh--?”
“I haven’t made cloaks in a very long time. I’m sure there’s someone else who can help you. Yes, that’s it. Sorry. We’re closed.”
And with that the party finds themselves back on the street in front of Faaris’ shop. The door closes with a solid thump, followed quickly after by the sound of a bolt turning.
###
Half an hour later, back at the inn:
“There’s one more place you can try… I have a friend at the university, a professor. Her name is Zariah. I had hoped not to trouble her directly, but… as we are running short on other options…”
“Are you certain she is still loyal to you?” Anvil demands.
“Oh, I’m sure of it.”
###
The University is almost like a walled city within a city, and beyond the gate can be glimpsed some of the strangest and most striking architecture in Siunethrit: buildings shaped like perfect spheres balanced atop cylinders, and a single cone that stretches over forty feet into the sky.
At the gate however, the party is stopped by a guard. He seems puzzled when the party tells him the object of their errand.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “Professor Zariah is no longer employed here.”
“Do you know where we can find her?” Lira asks.
“…At the Necropolis,” he says slowly.
“Oh.” Lira does her best to recover smoothly. “We were apparently misinformed.”
###
Half an hour later, back at the inn.
“Okay Gemil, we promised to make a good faith effort, and I think we’re reaching the end of ‘good faith.’”
Lira is not the only member of the party who is quickly approaching the end of her patience. The deal that Anvil made with Gemil was never particularly savory, but they are willing to uphold it. The amount of trouble they are willing to go to on behalf of the soul of an evil necromancer trapped in a golden skull is limited.
Gemil seems no more pleased to still be at the mercies of the party.
“Well,” he begins… “there is one more possibility…”
“No!” Lira interrupts. “No more possibilities. Give me a good reason why we shouldn’t just dump you in the river right now.”
“It wouldn’t be nice?”
“Try again.” Eva forces out from behind clenched teeth.
Gemil rolls his eyes to look at her. “I would rather negotiate with the Justicar, if you don’t mind.”
Anvil steps forward. “Then do so.”
“You wouldn’t really let them throw me in the river, would you? It would… hardly be in the spirit of our agreement.”
“We have made a good faith effort,” Anvil points out.
“What can I offer you for your continued aid?” Gemil asks.
Anvil shrugs. “Make an offer.”
“I could give you the opportunity to destroy a very powerful necromancer.”
“So you could take his place?” Eva asks.
Gemil looks thoughtful. “I suppose that would create a bit of a power vacuum. And you know how nature abhors that.”
“I didn’t think nature was too keen on necromancy either,” Eva mutters to herself and turns to the other side of the room where the others are huddled in low conversation.
###
“Will destroying the skull kill him?” Thatch asks.
Annika gestures helplessly, whispering back, “I don’t know. I’m not sure how the skull was made, I don’t know what result destroying it would have. I’m not even sure if we could.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not just a golden skull. It’s a magic item. That makes a difference. What if we just turned him over to the military?”
“Do you want to explain how we smuggled an evil necromancer trapped in a golden skull into the country under fake passports… Oh and by the way we’ve got two arcanists with us?” Eva asks.
“I guess not.”
“Okay…” says Lira. “How about this…?”
jerichothebard
First Post
Sagiro said:Hey spyscribe,
You know I love your writing, but I have two suggestions that will really take this Story Hour to the next level.
1. Updates that are twice as long.
2. Updates that are twice as frequent.
-Sagiro
Dude! This is one of the most frequently updated story hours on the board!
(It's a good start!)
Sagiro said:Hey spyscribe,
You know I love your writing, but I have two suggestions that will really take this Story Hour to the next level.
1. Updates that are twice as long.
2. Updates that are twice as frequent.
-Sagiro
While I would love to see more, as these updates always brighten my day, I am conscious of the need to keep Spyscribe's head from exploding, so that she may continue to give us updates for years to come.
I'm still here, and still thoroughly enjoying this story hour.
spyscribe
First Post
I do apologize for the sluggish pace of updates lately.Sagiro said:Hey spyscribe,
You know I love your writing, but I have two suggestions that will really take this Story Hour to the next level.
1. Updates that are twice as long.
2. Updates that are twice as frequent.
But I'm trying to give jonrog1 a sporting chance to avoid THE ABJECT SHAME that will soon be upon him.The day is coming. Oh yes. It is very near.
Groutknoll
First Post
Thanks spyscribe, the other day I was trying to remember who you called out and was wondering what had happened. I'm still hoping that you shame him into posting a update. 
spyscribe
First Post
Part the One-Hundred Forty-Third
In which: Lira makes a proposal.
“We will renew our agreement to assist you in finding a contact here in Siunethrit. We won’t try to end your existence and you won’t try to end ours.”
“And in return?” Gemil asks suspiciously.
“You will owe us a favor.”
“A favor. What sort of favor?”
Lira shrugs. “Whatever. If you’re right and you do become the big necromantic power player in Ebis, I’m sure you could help us out at some time in the future.”
Gemil considers. “It would have to be a favor commensurate with the favor you have done me.”
“Agreed. And naturally for the negotiation of said favor our truce would go back into effect.”
“Natrually…” The golden skull leers. “Who would determine the equity of the arrangement?”
“How about Anvil?” Lira shoots a look over at the man in question who nods.
Gemil muses for a moment. “Alright. It is agreed. You will uncover a contact of mine in Siunethrit willing to take me in, and at some point in the future I will do you a favor equivalent to the service you have done me.” He gives Lira a sly look. “Shall we shake on it?”
**********
Gemil has two theories for how the party can best accomplish their goal. They can return to the tailor shop and attempt to convince Faaris to cooperate, or they can go a “more direct route.”
When pressed, Gemil admits that the more direct route involves breaking into the Necropolis and confronting whoever has taken over in his absence. Partially out of an unwillingness to deal with Gemil’s enemies for him, and partially due to the knowledge that grave-robbing is a capital crime in Ebis, the party elects to see if they can induce Faaris to help them.
(DM’s NOTE: >sigh< And curse their scaly little hides for it. Woulda been *awesome*.)
###
The party returns to find that Faaris has reopened his shop. Deciding that their best chance of cooperation lies in maximum subterfuge, Lira and Annika go in first, alone. Lira activates her hat of disguise and Annika casts disguise self to appear as two rich matrons, desperately in need of fine clothing.
They enter, and Faaris greets them warmly.
“Ah! Ladies. And how can my humble shop cater to your needs this afternoon?”
“Actually,” says Lira archly, “we’re just looking for the moment. My daughter is getting married and we have many shops to visit.”
“Of course…” Faaris guides them to a rack in the corner where bolts of very fine linen have been laid out for inspection. “You’ll find no better quality in the city. And, for a price, I can even arrange for imported Karonian silk, although, of course that would require payment in advance.”
“Naturally,” Lira replies. As Faaris seems determined to stick by and be as helpful as possible, Lira waves him off. “Leave us. I will summon you if we require assistance.”
“Of course,” Faaris smiles sincerely and leaves the ladies to their shopping. And, as soon as his back is turned, both Lira and Annika cast charm person at him.
Faaris pauses, slowly turns around and looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry…” he begins. “Are you sure that there isn’t anything I can do for you?”
Lira smiles, she’s not sure whose spell went off, but she’s hoping that it doesn’t matter. “Actually, there is something.”
“Yes?”
“I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?”
Faaris’s face falls. He looks quickly around the shop, but there are no other customers. Still, when he speaks, his voice is barely audible.
“Are… are you sure?”
Lira nods, and removes her hat, revealing the red-haired young woman who asked him the same question the day before. “It’s okay,” she tells him. “But maybe we should go someplace where we can speak privately. We wouldn’t want someone to overhear us and misunderstand.”
Faaris nods, and turns glumly towards the door, where he finds the rest of the party waiting. He looks at Lira, quite concerned. She smiles. “You can let them in. They’re friends.”
Faaris reluctantly does, and locks the door behind them. He shows Lira and the rest of the party into his back room.
###
“You have to understand,” Faaris pleads, as he practically collapses on a low stool in the back of his shop. “I was young, and very foolish.”
Kiara looks at him skeptically. “I can’t imagine being that foolish.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been involved in any of that for years. I’m married now, with a son—”
“We don’t care what you used to do,” Lira assures him. “We didn’t really intend to get stuck with this job either.”
“Job? What job?”
“Hello, Faaris.”
The tailor’s face goes ashen as he turns to where Anvil has brought Gemil’s skull out of his pack.
“You… You…”
“Yes,” Gemil replies. “Me.”
“But… no one had heard from you in more than ten years. Everyone assumed you were dead.”
“Clearly,” Gemil replies acidly. “And who has taken advantage of my absence?”
“I… I really don’t…”
“Who?”
“Hamidi.”
Gemil grinds his teeth.
“What happened to Nabihah?”
“He’s dead.”
“And Qudsiyah?”
“Dead.”
“Thaquib?”
Faaris gulps. “Very dead,” he whispers.
“I can see why you got out of this business,” Eva mutters under her breath.
“What about Shadya?” Gemil demands suddenly. “Hamidi wouldn’t have dared get rid of her.”
Faaris shakes his head. “No… no I don’t think so. I don’t know if I can get a message to her though. I haven’t been in touch with anyone in the organization in years.” He turns pleading to the party members. “You have to believe me.”
Gemil’s tone is icy. “Try.”
Faaris nods. “I— I will. Please, return to your inn, I will send word within the day.”
Gemil is safely returned to his sack and Faaris ushers the party out through the front of the shop. As they pass though, though, something catches Lira’s eye. She pauses.
“What is it?” Eva asks her.
Lira blushes. “Well, it does get pretty cold here at night…”
A few moments later the party leaves Faaris’ shop, new cloaks bundled up under their arms.
###
That evening, a message comes back from Shadya. She has agreed to take Gemil, and indicates a place and time for the exchange.
“Will we meet her?” Anvil wants to know.
Faaris shakes his head, fearfully. “She said she’ll send someone.”
###
The party arrives at the exchange point under cover of darkness. At precisely midnight a cloaked figure approaches. Male or female is impossible to tell under the voluminous robes, but the figure’s slow, shuffling gait is unmistakable.
Eva swears quietly. “She sent a zombie.”
The figure arrives before the party, and slowly holds out a brown and withered hand. Anvil brings forth the sack with Gemil’s skull within. Before handing it over, he opens it one last time. Gemil’s ruby eyes glint darkly in the moonlight.
“Kettenek’s Justice be upon you, Gemil,” Anvil intones.
Gemil grins up at him. “Ta ta.”
The rest of the party watches in silence as Anvil hands over the bag, and the messenger slowly shuffles away.
In which: Lira makes a proposal.
“We will renew our agreement to assist you in finding a contact here in Siunethrit. We won’t try to end your existence and you won’t try to end ours.”
“And in return?” Gemil asks suspiciously.
“You will owe us a favor.”
“A favor. What sort of favor?”
Lira shrugs. “Whatever. If you’re right and you do become the big necromantic power player in Ebis, I’m sure you could help us out at some time in the future.”
Gemil considers. “It would have to be a favor commensurate with the favor you have done me.”
“Agreed. And naturally for the negotiation of said favor our truce would go back into effect.”
“Natrually…” The golden skull leers. “Who would determine the equity of the arrangement?”
“How about Anvil?” Lira shoots a look over at the man in question who nods.
Gemil muses for a moment. “Alright. It is agreed. You will uncover a contact of mine in Siunethrit willing to take me in, and at some point in the future I will do you a favor equivalent to the service you have done me.” He gives Lira a sly look. “Shall we shake on it?”
**********
Gemil has two theories for how the party can best accomplish their goal. They can return to the tailor shop and attempt to convince Faaris to cooperate, or they can go a “more direct route.”
When pressed, Gemil admits that the more direct route involves breaking into the Necropolis and confronting whoever has taken over in his absence. Partially out of an unwillingness to deal with Gemil’s enemies for him, and partially due to the knowledge that grave-robbing is a capital crime in Ebis, the party elects to see if they can induce Faaris to help them.
(DM’s NOTE: >sigh< And curse their scaly little hides for it. Woulda been *awesome*.)
###
The party returns to find that Faaris has reopened his shop. Deciding that their best chance of cooperation lies in maximum subterfuge, Lira and Annika go in first, alone. Lira activates her hat of disguise and Annika casts disguise self to appear as two rich matrons, desperately in need of fine clothing.
They enter, and Faaris greets them warmly.
“Ah! Ladies. And how can my humble shop cater to your needs this afternoon?”
“Actually,” says Lira archly, “we’re just looking for the moment. My daughter is getting married and we have many shops to visit.”
“Of course…” Faaris guides them to a rack in the corner where bolts of very fine linen have been laid out for inspection. “You’ll find no better quality in the city. And, for a price, I can even arrange for imported Karonian silk, although, of course that would require payment in advance.”
“Naturally,” Lira replies. As Faaris seems determined to stick by and be as helpful as possible, Lira waves him off. “Leave us. I will summon you if we require assistance.”
“Of course,” Faaris smiles sincerely and leaves the ladies to their shopping. And, as soon as his back is turned, both Lira and Annika cast charm person at him.
Faaris pauses, slowly turns around and looks over his shoulder. “I’m sorry…” he begins. “Are you sure that there isn’t anything I can do for you?”
Lira smiles, she’s not sure whose spell went off, but she’s hoping that it doesn’t matter. “Actually, there is something.”
“Yes?”
“I find the nights are colder than I like. Can you make a cloak to warm them?”
Faaris’s face falls. He looks quickly around the shop, but there are no other customers. Still, when he speaks, his voice is barely audible.
“Are… are you sure?”
Lira nods, and removes her hat, revealing the red-haired young woman who asked him the same question the day before. “It’s okay,” she tells him. “But maybe we should go someplace where we can speak privately. We wouldn’t want someone to overhear us and misunderstand.”
Faaris nods, and turns glumly towards the door, where he finds the rest of the party waiting. He looks at Lira, quite concerned. She smiles. “You can let them in. They’re friends.”
Faaris reluctantly does, and locks the door behind them. He shows Lira and the rest of the party into his back room.
###
“You have to understand,” Faaris pleads, as he practically collapses on a low stool in the back of his shop. “I was young, and very foolish.”
Kiara looks at him skeptically. “I can’t imagine being that foolish.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been involved in any of that for years. I’m married now, with a son—”
“We don’t care what you used to do,” Lira assures him. “We didn’t really intend to get stuck with this job either.”
“Job? What job?”
“Hello, Faaris.”
The tailor’s face goes ashen as he turns to where Anvil has brought Gemil’s skull out of his pack.
“You… You…”
“Yes,” Gemil replies. “Me.”
“But… no one had heard from you in more than ten years. Everyone assumed you were dead.”
“Clearly,” Gemil replies acidly. “And who has taken advantage of my absence?”
“I… I really don’t…”
“Who?”
“Hamidi.”
Gemil grinds his teeth.
“What happened to Nabihah?”
“He’s dead.”
“And Qudsiyah?”
“Dead.”
“Thaquib?”
Faaris gulps. “Very dead,” he whispers.
“I can see why you got out of this business,” Eva mutters under her breath.
“What about Shadya?” Gemil demands suddenly. “Hamidi wouldn’t have dared get rid of her.”
Faaris shakes his head. “No… no I don’t think so. I don’t know if I can get a message to her though. I haven’t been in touch with anyone in the organization in years.” He turns pleading to the party members. “You have to believe me.”
Gemil’s tone is icy. “Try.”
Faaris nods. “I— I will. Please, return to your inn, I will send word within the day.”
Gemil is safely returned to his sack and Faaris ushers the party out through the front of the shop. As they pass though, though, something catches Lira’s eye. She pauses.
“What is it?” Eva asks her.
Lira blushes. “Well, it does get pretty cold here at night…”
A few moments later the party leaves Faaris’ shop, new cloaks bundled up under their arms.
###
That evening, a message comes back from Shadya. She has agreed to take Gemil, and indicates a place and time for the exchange.
“Will we meet her?” Anvil wants to know.
Faaris shakes his head, fearfully. “She said she’ll send someone.”
###
The party arrives at the exchange point under cover of darkness. At precisely midnight a cloaked figure approaches. Male or female is impossible to tell under the voluminous robes, but the figure’s slow, shuffling gait is unmistakable.
Eva swears quietly. “She sent a zombie.”
The figure arrives before the party, and slowly holds out a brown and withered hand. Anvil brings forth the sack with Gemil’s skull within. Before handing it over, he opens it one last time. Gemil’s ruby eyes glint darkly in the moonlight.
“Kettenek’s Justice be upon you, Gemil,” Anvil intones.
Gemil grins up at him. “Ta ta.”
The rest of the party watches in silence as Anvil hands over the bag, and the messenger slowly shuffles away.
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