Pony Tail woman, although more agile than Varielky, seems unable to read her opponent and falls flatfooted from the beginning of the match. Perhaps she was ruffled by Varielky’s forthright response to her taunt.
The match begins, and Varielky once again leaps in to attempt to quickly overpower her opponent. But even after Varielky lands a pair of early blows, Pony Tail woman’s quick wits allow her to keep her footing and riposte, connecting with Varielky’s side and thigh. But her strikes are glancing blows, and don’t slow down Varielky, who keeps the advantage. Over the course of a long match involving many feints, dodges, grunts, and whooping attacks -- three full minutes -- Varielky, finally scores enough repeat blows to win, although both fighters are still standing.
Your opponent seems very disappointed, and both of you sense that she probably should have taken the match. Her experience showed in every move. She frowns but joins in a firm warrior’s handshake, conceding with honor. You find out she is called Benita la Cass, and after the match, you see her walk, head held high, to Abodolla and seems to be answering his questions. When you look, he holds your gaze for a moment, calculating, it seems.
There is a brief break as the brackets are drawn for the third match, and you note Abodolla’s eyes upon you.
A horn blows a short blast, and a third match is set for 8 pairs of fighters. You are in the pen with an Orracan, heavy-set, muscular, no necked brute. Short stubble, Varielky guesses, was probably left this morning after he shaved with a dagger. Some of the younger fighters are now just watching, and the Orracan is known to them, you gather from their encouraging shouts, as “Bali.” “You got this Bali. Don’t kill this one, Bali.” But there are a few shouting “Come on New Girl!” for Varielky. In the pen, Bali faces away from you, cracking his neck, back muscles rippling like waves.
You’ve been given new weapons, still wooden. Yours is shaped like a hammer or axe, his, like a broadsword. You each wear a wooden shield on your left arm.
Bali turns to face you and crashes his weapon to his shield as a salute. The horn blows and the match begins.
Please make the same rolls, this time 1d6 for damage.
Varielky breathes heavily as she shakes the other woman's hand. "I wouldn't want you as my opponent on a real battle field. Well fought."
Varielky looks at the Orracan. He seems to be popular and confident while she's already a little tired and her thigh still hurt from the last match. She takes on a stance and is ready for the fight. She looks on her weapons. Blunt and wide weapons were not her favourite, but at least she has a shield now, that's always a good thing to have around. She also makes a mental note to buy another weapon later - it was disappointing she wasn't given her favourite weapon when she was enlisted. "Not as effective as a longsword", or something like that.
Mittens’s gaze snaps up to meet her eyes as a goofy grin splits his face, gazing into her eyes to see if she was being honest. He happily says, “I would love to do that. Could I come back by tomorrow to copy a few down?” A more serious expression comes across his face as he asks, “What were you going to say before you changed your mind?”
RP#8 Mittens
“I was going to say,” she pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, “the Learned One...has intuitions. He said something to me, when we — my family — first moved here from Fa Tahesi. I was young, only 10. We came to this Temple when my uncle passed away (may Moietu be just). Most adults, when they meet a child, speak in a certain way, not like to a person, just to an image they have in mind of what a child is. But he saw me, and I have always remembered his words. He looks deeply into people, without even trying. I have seen this during my months and years here many times. You...should think about your conversation with him. About why you are here today, in this room.” Her gaze raises from the candle holder she had been gently polishing on the table in front of her while she spoke, and she smiles for just a moment as your eyes meet.
Just then, the sound of a very small bell can be heard from afar, and the acolyte starts, with a quick intake of breath. “Oh! I am late. Can you help me?” And you help her clear the tables, blow out candles and close lanterns, and she locks the doors behind you both with a key she keeps on a thin necklace, and she guides you with a quick step back up to the public temple, now vacant, the only sounds coming from the street, where children are being called in for their evening meal as the temperature drops. It looks like rain. “I am Haniah. May I know your name?” After your response, she turns back inside. “I will be here tomorrow. May Moeitu be kind!” and she leaves as another, more insistent, ringing sound from within delicately chimes.
(OOC: Assuming you go back the next day, you can donate 25GP to the temple to learn one 1st level necromantic spell of your choice. It will take time, because the spell is not in a separate wizardly tome. Rather, after reading carefully through several codices, you realize that a chapter you just finished reading details the workings of a spell well enough that you can infer the spell from the description. The 25GP is just going to be a rough game mechanic, and the price will multiply by spell level, going forward. You will still need to search the markets for material components to practice the spell, and those will cost another 25GP/level, as usual.)
Pony Tail woman, although more agile than Varielky, seems unable to read her opponent and falls flatfooted from the beginning of the match. Perhaps she was ruffled by Varielky’s forthright response to her taunt.
The match begins, and Varielky once again leaps in to attempt to quickly overpower her opponent. But even after Varielky lands a pair of early blows, Pony Tail woman’s quick wits allow her to keep her footing and riposte, connecting with Varielky’s side and thigh. But her strikes are glancing blows, and don’t slow down Varielky, who keeps the advantage. Over the course of a long match involving many feints, dodges, grunts, and whooping attacks -- three full minutes -- Varielky, finally scores enough repeat blows to win, although both fighters are still standing.
Your opponent seems very disappointed, and both of you sense that she probably should have taken the match. Her experience showed in every move. She frowns but joins in a firm warrior’s handshake, conceding with honor. You find out she is called Benita la Cass, and after the match, you see her walk, head held high, to Abodolla and seems to be answering his questions. When you look, he holds your gaze for a moment, calculating, it seems.
There is a brief break as the brackets are drawn for the third match, and you note Abodolla’s eyes upon you.
A horn blows a short blast, and a third match is set for 8 pairs of fighters. You are in the pen with an Orracan, heavy-set, muscular, no necked brute. Short stubble, Varielky guesses, was probably left this morning after he shaved with a dagger. Some of the younger fighters are now just watching, and the Orracan is known to them, you gather from their encouraging shouts, as “Bali.” “You got this Bali. Don’t kill this one, Bali.” But there are a few shouting “Come on New Girl!” for Varielky. In the pen, Bali faces away from you, cracking his neck, back muscles rippling like waves.
You’ve been given new weapons, still wooden. Yours is shaped like a hammer or axe, his, like a broadsword. You each wear a wooden shield on your left arm.
Bali turns to face you and crashes his weapon to his shield as a salute. The horn blows and the match begins.
Please make the same rolls, this time 1d6 for damage.
Varielky breathes heavily as she shakes the other woman's hand. "I wouldn't want you as my opponent on a real battle field. Well fought."
Varielky looks at the Orracan. He seems to be popular and confident while she's already a little tired and her thigh still hurt from the last match. She takes on a stance and is ready for the fight. She looks on her weapons. Blunt and wide weapons were not her favourite, but at least she has a shield now, that's always a good thing to have around. She also makes a mental note to buy another weapon later - it was disappointing she wasn't given her favourite weapon when she was enlisted. "Not as effective as a longsword", or something like that.
Initiative: 13
Intimidation: 17
Attack: 15 Damage: 4
Attack: 13 Damage: 6
Attack: 16 Damage: 7
Attack: 19 Damage: 5
Attack: 25 Damage: 11
RP#6 Varielky
Bali allows Varielky the first blow, which he takes square on with his shield. A smaller fighter would have been shaken, but Bali, silent, takes it without missing a beat. He awaits a second blow, and a third, and seems able to effortlessly absorb the brunt of the attack, or deftly shift away. His arm is suddenly a blur, and a quick backhanded blow lands, knocking Varielky back to the far end of the pen.
The onlookers shout, some letting out barks of laughter at Bali’s strength. “Ha! Show her, Bali!”, and “Oho! This is not going to be pretty!” But others, especially the young Shian you first fought, are rooting for the underdog, with shouts of “Come Varielky, get him!”
After circling and testing the brute’s defenses, sweat dripping off of her from the day’s exertions, Varielky puts her shield mastery to work, with a firm combination of blocks, turns, shoves, and strikes, drawing shouts of surprise from all, “Takal take her!”
Bali loses his footing for a moment, but is up in an instant, though wavering, on one knee, his eyes unfocused. Seeing her chance, Varielky leaps forward again, and is taken completely off guard -- she realizes he was faking! -- as he reaches through her defenses while she rushes him, grabbing her by the throat with a huge hand, and throwing her roughly to the ground, her breath wheezing out as she sees stars. In a moment he is upon her, she is pinned, and she knows she has lost. The onlookers cheer, though not effusively, for after all, this is the end they all expected.
Bali keeps Varielky pinned perhaps a moment longer, she thinks, than he really had to -- sending her a message -- then moves, and offers her a hand up. You see him look past you to Mr. Abodolla and the other man, with a stiff nod. He looks at you, and says simply, in a resonant basso, “Good.”
Mr. Abodolla points at you until he has your attention, then turns his hand and motions “come here.”
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Imble Shu frowns deeply at the silver, but then rolls his eyes and quickly pockets the coins, shaking his head at Ka’imi derisively. His eyes suddenly widen, as if remembering something, and after a moment’s thought, he tells you, “His son come sooooonnnn...“Farmer, tanner called Amastan el Afid. Son is named Idder. You bring animals you catch, show us. Then maybe we make deal, I have big order. Then springtime coming…” this last he says, looking at the items he has for sale and again shaking his head. Remembering you are there as an afterthought, he repeats, “8 Bells on 20th Day of Glory,” (OOC: the third day after today, two full days between now and then. 8 Bells equals 8 o’clock a.m. The bells are rung at each of the public fountains.) "You come.” And with that he greets a well-heeled older Jenghen woman who has stepped up while you were speaking and you see a true salesman at work as you walk away.
Any other tasks while in the city, or do you turn around and get right to work in your woods (for another ½ day of trapping)?
(OOC: for hunting/trapping beyond what you need to survive, please roll a series of 3 survival rolls per day. If there are other skills whose use you can describe in supporting your trapping endeavors, tell me how you want to employ them, and make one separate roll for each one. Keep in mind that ground squirrels hibernate, and Midwinter's Day has just passed.)
(OOC: you DO sense an unusual beast in the vicinity of your woods, not the usual forest animal…)
I leave right away for the woods and 1/2 day of trapping.
Survival Rolls for Trapping this half day: 11 Survival Rolls for Trapping next day: 71315 Survival Rolls for Trapping second day: 172320
My focus is on the fennecs if the ground squirrels are hoping to hibernate. I start in a straight line north from my shelter six hundred yards, and then work clockwise in a circle looking for the fennecs to trap.
Using my tracking skills (Natural Explorer - While tracking other creatures, you also learn their exact number, their sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area.) I try to see if there's any particular place or burrow that holds a large number of hibernating ground squirrels, hoping that a large find might make me more valuable to the skinners: 8
After the second day I head back to the shelter and take the four hour trance before waking and heading to see Imble Shu and Amastan el Afid.
RP#4 Ka’imi
Ka’imi spends the afternoon circling to find fennecs, and by the middle of the second day, he sees the signs he is looking for, and first smells, then sights one. He follows it, without a sound, to a fennec hole, and sets a trap that night. The next day, Ka’imi successfully traps a family of 4 fennecs. He asks the forest where squirrels may be sleeping, and slowly, slowly, in tree-time, he locates two of them.
When he returns to Ishi Ammah at 8 bells on the third day, Imble Shu and Idder el Afid are there, Idder having just dropped off a bundle of lamb’s wool and a parcel of tanned leather. Imble says, “Show me animals,” firmly, to you, and carefully checks the creature's pelts. One of the squirrels he turns for Idder to see a blemish on its belly, and he nods in agreement. “Yup I see’t.”
But Imble tells you both, “I can use these. Idder, you bring back soon. Spring almost here. Tell your father, more leather, soft leather, kid leather. Next time.” And he turns away.
Idder looks at you appraisingly. He is perhaps 22 years old, an Orracan whose weathered face and bent but muscular body speak of the hours of physical labor, out of doors which make up the mainstay of his existence. He says, “You’ll wanna speak w’t’ol’man. ‘Bout the furs?” He moves on, southward. “Come w’me.”
He stops at another merchant’s table in the Public Market, bargaining firmly for the sale of a few more bundles of leather from a mule-pulled cart he leads. Then, he stops in a corner of the market, and, pulling a small pouch of pistachios from his belt, eats them quietly, spitting out the shells, watching the comings and goings in the market, and offering commentary about his surroundings in brief splurts. “Looka tha’ hat,” and “Wha’ th’” in response to a long funeral procession winding through to the gates, and “G’mornin’ miss” to a pretty young Orracan girl picking up a milk delivery. She stares at him, wordlessly for a moment, then carefully lifts and pulls the covered pail back with her into a pub’s kitchen. He asks you, eventually, “You live in Prince’s Arbor?”
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
RP #2 Dyn Gwelw
Dyn Gwelw follows the garrison man’s directions, past the Temple Market to the western wall, and there finds a 4-storey common house where, asking passersby, he locates and speaks to an elderly woman and arranges for accommodations, a 2nd-floor room with a small fireplace in its center, sparsely accommodated with floor mats much in need of washing. There is bedding, also horrible-smelling, and some candles and a small low table and a cushion on which to sit before it.
That evening, practicing in the Prince’s Arbor, he draws some attention, as his forms are unknown in Orraca u Shia. He notices some children in the park watching him, and some, accompanying their parents, who chat with acquaintances, mimic Dyn’s movements.
The next day, rising early and starting his morning forms at dawn, while a light rain falls, a few elves, also out and enjoying the cool misty rain, note his presence, and watch.
After completing his forms and meditation, Dyn’s eyes open, and standing in front of him is an Orracan child, grinning ear to ear, his face slick and moist, and he is shivering slightly. The smile is one Dyn recognizes, from his first arrival in Ishi Ammah, two years ago. The boy seems hardly to have aged, and he skips away, still smiling, and disappears quickly from view as people gather for Temple Rites.
Taking advantage of this moment, for the Temple has been mostly inactive, seemingly, up until now, Dyn waits until the rites are completed, an hour of incense burning and prayers, before approaching the Acolyte leading the service, an Orracan woman with long, frizzy hair tied with a feathered cord at her belt line, to offer his services as a medical practitioner. She tells him she will speak to the High Priest on his behalf and bids him good day, but he does not see her or Temple activity the next day, or the next. Dyn knows that during winter months, Ritha Demsha is said to sleep, and her Rites are few at this time of year, though busy indeed during the spring season.
In the coming days, scouring the East End and Desert districts, Dyn seems unable to make connections, as the East End inhabitants, entirely Orracan, seem wary indeed of Dyn’s outlandish appearance, and the Deserts District inhabitants seem likewise involved with their daily routines. It seems odd to Dyn, as his readings of the districts were correct, he is certain.
A week later, at the Prince’s Arbor, again after his morning forms and meditation, Dyn Gwelw opens his eyes, and the child is back, smiling again. And a few other children of various ages are with him. “Teach us?” the smiling lad asks.
Varielky takes Bali's hand and gets up. She is annoyed, but not at him. She should have been more careful. She should have been smarter. It was obvious he was a good fighter, and she let her guard down. If it were a real battle, her corpse would have been lying under his feet right now.
"Thank you, but you're clearly better. I have to improve." She says. Varielky returns the weapon and shield she received and takes those she brought with her. She gives an apollogestic look to the Shian who rooted for her. "Next time." She thinks. She goes up to Mr. Abodolla. Maybe the second match was just luck, but luck is also important in battle. She has her hopes up.
After celebrating his employment with Ingrid and helping out with a few items, Ednyss bids her a short farewell as he heads out to the Docks to see if he can perhaps earn some coin. Upon arriving at the Docks, he double checks his equipment and valuables although he left most of his gold in his room with Ingrid (Only brought 10 Gold). He then proceeds towards the nearest place where he might be able to find a game. Preferably Slaughterhouse, but a dice game would do as Ednyss is feeling lucky tonight.
RP #3 Ednyss
As he walks south to the Docks, Ednyss passes Governor’s Market as items for sale are being brought back indoors for overnight storage, and as street performers take to the plaza while restaurants put out seats for dining and drinking. Ednyss carefully studies each man or woman he passes, trying to read into their thinking and oil the gears so to speak, for a night of cards.
He wanders to the Docks, which have quieted down significantly with sundown, although there are still many seamen walking about in groups or solo, stopping at pubs, getting into shouting matches. Nothing too rowdy, for the night is still young. Ednyss peeks into a pub as he walks. All seats full, men quietly sipping drinks or eating…he decides to move on. Turning a side street, he passes a chimp of indeterminate age dancing slowly in the street, eyes glazed over, and the sweet smell of burnt opium emanates from a cellar whose door is open, a single frowning man standing in the dim light. Ednyss keeps moving, returns to the water’s edge, and is drawn to the sound of instruments and happy shouting coming from a large three-storey pub at the corner, with a tall wooden sign hanging on hooks announcing it with bright blue and golden yellow paints as the “Prince’s Sail.”
He enters, and here can find food and drink, and in a back area, away from the music, sees men and women playing cards, throwing dice, arm wrestling and throwing small knives at targets on the walls. The salt smell of the sea air blows in, the aroma of roasted meat drifts out, and at the entryway, Ednyss takes a moment to completely refresh his memory of the rules of the games of chance he can expect to play.
(OOC:
Card game: “Slaughterhouse” (based on the Orcan game "Slaughter," but now with animal pictures of 6 possible suits, as opposed to human stick figures and only one suit in the original, which was very up to interpretation and almost always led to physical fights). Up to 6 players play at once, a full table is called a Troop.
There are 6 suits, called Legends: Temple, Palace, Dungeon, Ship, Farm, Mountain.
Each suit has 10 cards, called Faces: Flea, Rat, Cow, Wolf, Bear, Lion, Stallion, Hawk, Iguana, Fish.
To play, pay a given amount into the ante, usually 1GP in city games. Roll one each: Insight, Investigation, Sleight of Hand, Deception, Perception. Then roll once again for the skill from this list with your highest bonus, and apply any inspiration to that roll. Add all the rolls together. Players compare the sums. If playing vs NPCs, beat the number 72, and you win the ante. If you lose, then you lose your ante+1d6GP (i.e., 2 to 7GP). If you win, you can play a second hour. If you win again, you “beat the Troop” and take home the table’s ante x1d6GP (i.e., for 6 players, 6 to 36GP). If you lose the 2nd game, you lose your ante+1d6GP (i.e., 2 to 7GP). Each roll represents one hour of play, two 72+ combined rolls in a row are needed to beat the Troop.
Dice games: Flocks, Spit, and Highrise. Roll 1d20. Above 10 = # of GP won in a night. Below 10 = # of GP lost in a night. 10 = break even.)
Smiling as he walks, Ednyss releases a deep breath. It has been too long since he has been at a table of Slaughterhouse with other gamblers and he is excited to see if his luck will hold. Before he approaches the table, he subtly draws upon the guidance of Takal Demesh to guide him in his first game to counterbalance the time that it has been since he last played. Settling down at the table, Ednyss glances surreptitiously at the hand that he was dealt and looks to examine the other players analyzing their possible hands.
After losing the first game, Ednyss is a bit bothered, but he brought enough money for another game, so he antes up for the next hour and pitches another gold piece in the pot.
Although Ednyss accidentally slipped and let his face show his winning hand, he managed to use his understanding of the other players' hands as well as a bit of lucky inspiration to pull of a win with this hand. "Hah! A Palace Lion! I win." Ednyss says throwing his cards on the table at the end of the round. Cracking his knuckles, he prepared for his third and final hour of play, hoping to win back some of the gold that he had lost in the first hour.
Barely losing the last hand, Ednyss grumbles as he passed three more gold pieces to the winner of the Troop. Deciding that his luck hasn't held for the night, Ednyss walks dejectedly back to Ingrid's shop where he promptly falls asleep. He knows he has to wake up early in the morning to check in at the temple again, and although his luck may not have held in the card games tonight, he could always go back and try again another time.
RP#4 Ednyss
Ingrid welcomes Ednyss back, and jokingly tries to cheer him up. “You know what they say in the mines,” she begins, as Ednyss stifles a moan, “better to be unlucky at cards than unlucky with Wards!” a Dwarvish pun referring to the magics which keep tunnels from collapsing far below the surface. It’s a dumb thing to say, but you both know that, and the words don’t matter as much as the smile which almost begrudgingly appears on Ednyss face. After a night among strangers, it is nice to be greeted by someone who speaks his language, literally, and figuratively.
The next morning, Ingrid bangs a pot outside Ednyss’ door to wake him up, growling, in her friendly way, that food was already on the fire and she had her hammer, meaning would have already lit the forge and would be imminently hard at work.
As Ednyss comes out, a teenage Shian lad with a peach-fuzz moustache and beard comes to the smithy, and tells Ingrid, who yells up to Ednyss, that Malike, the High Priest of Takal Demesh, has returned and wishes to see him. Ednyss tells the lad to return a message to Malike, that he’ll be there soon, and the lad rolls his eyes, turns on his heels, and continues on away from the Temple, with other messages to deliver before his return.
Upon his arrival at the temple, Ednyss sees His Excellence, Malike Sabir, High Priest of Takal Demesh in Ishi Ammah, in his usual day-garb, a colorful wrap with a large geometric print in orange and red, under a breast plate, with an ornate longsword in its scabbard hanging easily from his belts. He stands on the temple steps, greeting passersby, who shout and wave their greetings. His jaw is wide and square, his mouth is large for his head, with enormous teeth, framed by long, deep creases in his cheeks and dimples in cheeks and chin.
“EDNYSS GREYBEARD,” he shouts in a booming voice which carries straight across the plaza to the Arena, faintly echoing back to the Temple. “WELCOME HOME!” And spreading legs wide to descend to an appropriate height, he offers a crushing bear hug embrace and a rhythmic belly laugh, slapping Ednyss on the back again and again as the two exchange friendly insults and begin to catch up. The other priests, Ikram and Quisa, have duties today, but both stop and join in the conversation when duties allow, for a moment or two.
(OOC: Does Ednyss tell Malike everything that’s transpired, or focus on any specific details?)
Ednyss smiles at the High Priest and embraces Malike and telling him all about his exploits in the army. He doesn't embellish the story as he did with the other acolytes, and instead discusses his mistakes as much as his successes. As they talk, he asks for pointers on strategy, and places where he perhaps over-extended or did not capitalize on a mistake made by the enemy. "And that's about it... But you should have seen the size of that thing! It took out most of our squadron with a single blow. It is only by the grace of Takal Demesh that I am standing here today. It is nice to be back though, has there been anything happening here recently? Other than the Dwarven New Year, which I am sad to have missed." Ednyss is genuinely curious about the goings on of the temple and will attempt to make himself useful (at least until his guard duty begins in Beauty).
(OOC: Ednyss tells Malike everything, but focuses on his mistakes. Viewing Malike as a sort of mentor figure for Ednyss, discussing his failures with Malike are the best way (that he sees) to improve his own combat capability and tactics.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Mittens gladly helps Hania clean up the area. When she asks for his name, he bashfully says, "My name is Mittens. Mittens Toodaloo." If he had no fur, she would see his is blushing a shade of deep red. He continues on, embarrassed, "It's my dumb kid name. My family has this stupid tradition where we have to earn our adult names." He shifts his satchel on his shoulder before saying, " Anyways, see you tomorrow!" He bounds down the stairs and heads home. When he arrives, he informs everyone that he is going to be busy a few hours tomorrow.
The next day after he takes care of his morning tasks with Nightsprinter, he heads back over to the Church. When he enters, he corners an acolyte and tells them that Hania invited him to be set the library today. He could easily to back there by himself, but he's pretty sure that arriving by himself would be frowned upon.
When he arrives, he gives a pouch of 25 gold to Hania if she is there before finding the book and settling down at a desk. He spends the next few hours poring over it and formulating the arcane algorithm embedded within it. He inscribed it into his one spellbook with great care. A few more hours later, he finishes the final arcane phrase, and a great sense of accomplishment and satisfaction washes through him as he leans back in his chair and happily sighs. He puts his han in the air above his book and casts Prestidigitation to dry the ink of his newly acquired false life. He takes a moment to double check his work before happily cleaning up his area. After he finishes that, he approaches Hania if she is there and asks with a happy smile, "You don't happen to have something like 'A Beginner's Guide to Moeitu' or something, do you?"
((OOC: When do you think we will all meet up again? I'm just curious so I know how long I have to get my stuff done.))
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
RP #2 Dyn Gwelw
Dyn Gwelw follows the garrison man’s directions, past the Temple Market to the western wall, and there finds a 4-storey common house where, asking passersby, he locates and speaks to an elderly woman and arranges for accommodations, a 2nd-floor room with a small fireplace in its center, sparsely accommodated with floor mats much in need of washing. There is bedding, also horrible-smelling, and some candles and a small low table and a cushion on which to sit before it.
That evening, practicing in the Prince’s Arbor, he draws some attention, as his forms are unknown in Orraca u Shia. He notices some children in the park watching him, and some, accompanying their parents, who chat with acquaintances, mimic Dyn’s movements.
The next day, rising early and starting his morning forms at dawn, while a light rain falls, a few elves, also out and enjoying the cool misty rain, note his presence, and watch.
After completing his forms and meditation, Dyn’s eyes open, and standing in front of him is an Orracan child, grinning ear to ear, his face slick and moist, and he is shivering slightly. The smile is one Dyn recognizes, from his first arrival in Ishi Ammah, two years ago. The boy seems hardly to have aged, and he skips away, still smiling, and disappears quickly from view as people gather for Temple Rites.
Taking advantage of this moment, for the Temple has been mostly inactive, seemingly, up until now, Dyn waits until the rites are completed, an hour of incense burning and prayers, before approaching the Acolyte leading the service, an Orracan woman with long, frizzy hair tied with a feathered cord at her belt line, to offer his services as a medical practitioner. She tells him she will speak to the High Priest on his behalf and bids him good day, but he does not see her or Temple activity the next day, or the next. Dyn knows that during winter months, Ritha Demsha is said to sleep, and her Rites are few at this time of year, though busy indeed during the spring season.
In the coming days, scouring the East End and Desert districts, Dyn seems unable to make connections, as the East End inhabitants, entirely Orracan, seem wary indeed of Dyn’s outlandish appearance, and the Deserts District inhabitants seem likewise involved with their daily routines. It seems odd to Dyn, as his readings of the districts were correct, he is certain.
A week later, at the Prince’s Arbor, again after his morning forms and meditation, Dyn Gwelw opens his eyes, and the child is back, smiling again. And a few other children of various ages are with him. “Teach us?” the smiling lad asks.
OCC How many children? Do they look like urchins, or are they from some other 'class'?
Dyn Gwelw looks at them with a measuring eye. "'Teach us', you say; with no introduction? And what is it you expect me to teach you?" He slowly looks from one to the next, sizing them up. "Not that names are so important, but manners are."
He very slowly folds himself down into the pose known as The Dragon Lotus, a position from which an adapt can easily flow into many different forms, both defensive and offensive, with very little effort and awaits their answers.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
RP #2 Dyn Gwelw
Dyn Gwelw follows the garrison man’s directions, past the Temple Market to the western wall, and there finds a 4-storey common house where, asking passersby, he locates and speaks to an elderly woman and arranges for accommodations, a 2nd-floor room with a small fireplace in its center, sparsely accommodated with floor mats much in need of washing. There is bedding, also horrible-smelling, and some candles and a small low table and a cushion on which to sit before it.
That evening, practicing in the Prince’s Arbor, he draws some attention, as his forms are unknown in Orraca u Shia. He notices some children in the park watching him, and some, accompanying their parents, who chat with acquaintances, mimic Dyn’s movements.
The next day, rising early and starting his morning forms at dawn, while a light rain falls, a few elves, also out and enjoying the cool misty rain, note his presence, and watch.
After completing his forms and meditation, Dyn’s eyes open, and standing in front of him is an Orracan child, grinning ear to ear, his face slick and moist, and he is shivering slightly. The smile is one Dyn recognizes, from his first arrival in Ishi Ammah, two years ago. The boy seems hardly to have aged, and he skips away, still smiling, and disappears quickly from view as people gather for Temple Rites.
Taking advantage of this moment, for the Temple has been mostly inactive, seemingly, up until now, Dyn waits until the rites are completed, an hour of incense burning and prayers, before approaching the Acolyte leading the service, an Orracan woman with long, frizzy hair tied with a feathered cord at her belt line, to offer his services as a medical practitioner. She tells him she will speak to the High Priest on his behalf and bids him good day, but he does not see her or Temple activity the next day, or the next. Dyn knows that during winter months, Ritha Demsha is said to sleep, and her Rites are few at this time of year, though busy indeed during the spring season.
In the coming days, scouring the East End and Desert districts, Dyn seems unable to make connections, as the East End inhabitants, entirely Orracan, seem wary indeed of Dyn’s outlandish appearance, and the Deserts District inhabitants seem likewise involved with their daily routines. It seems odd to Dyn, as his readings of the districts were correct, he is certain.
A week later, at the Prince’s Arbor, again after his morning forms and meditation, Dyn Gwelw opens his eyes, and the child is back, smiling again. And a few other children of various ages are with him. “Teach us?” the smiling lad asks.
OCC How many children? Do they look like urchins, or are they from some other 'class'?
Dyn Gwelw looks at them with a measuring eye. "'Teach us', you say; with no introduction? And what is it you expect me to teach you?" He slowly looks from one to the next, sizing them up. "Not that names are so important, but manners are."
He very slowly folds himself down into the pose known as The Dragon Lotus, a position from which an adapt can easily flow into many different forms, both defensive and offensive, with very little effort and awaits their answers.
RP#3
The smile disappears from the first boy, and the others stand quietly for a moment. Their rags and dirty faces indicate with hardly a doubt that they live without the grace of a caring hand or eye to guide them, wash them, or clothe them, and they range in age from perhaps 6, the youngest, to perhaps 11, the oldest, a girl. There are five children in total.
They watch you, standing rather dejectedly in place for a moment, then Smiling Boy, perhaps 8 years old, introduces himself as Abi, and sits down carefully, facing you, not without fear, in a position approximating your own. The others follow suit: Rachid, Sami, Orra, and the oldest girl, Tangie.
Varielky takes Bali's hand and gets up. She is annoyed, but not at him. She should have been more careful. She should have been smarter. It was obvious he was a good fighter, and she let her guard down. If it were a real battle, her corpse would have been lying under his feet right now.
"Thank you, but you're clearly better. I have to improve." She says. Varielky returns the weapon and shield she received and takes those she brought with her. She gives an apollogestic look to the Shian who rooted for her. "Next time." She thinks. She goes up to Mr. Abodolla. Maybe the second match was just luck, but luck is also important in battle. She has her hopes up.
RP#7 Varielky
Mr. Abodolla, he of the puffed harem trousers and baggy-sleeved sky blue daywear, topped with a rakishly tilted indigo turban, speaks to you in the tones of a businessman. He introduces you to the other man, the one he told you makes decisions regarding participants in the arena’s Games.
“This is Mr. Kovalenko, the arena’s fighting master.” Kovalenko is a Khazaran, and he wears white pantaloons, below a thick corset or belt, and above that, a white, colorfully embroidered cotton shirt, open at the neck to reveal a thickly hair-covered barrel chest. A tattoo of opposing daggers, the symbol of Ellosh, peeks out from below an extraordinary collection of wrought golden chains. His head is bare, save for black sideburns and whiskers only on his cheeks bristling out, like a cat’s. He speaks Jenghen with a pronounced Khazar accent.
“You must learn to look at your opponent. Rrrrrealy, truly look at them. They will tell you what is their intent, isn’t that right, Abodolla?” To which Mr. Abodolla absently nods as he gives instructions to a groundsman.
Kovalenko continues, “You fight well, girrrl. Actually, verrrry badly, but I can work with you, eef you have the spirit and the drrrrive. Mr. Abodolla has informed me that you want to participate in the Beauty Pageant. (OOC: “Beauty” is the third month of the Jenghen calendar, which is approaching within a fortnight.). “I may have a role for you. Now, I must attend to otherr matterrrs, but I leave you to discuss terrrms with Mr. Abodolla. Perhaps I see you tomorrow. Hey BALI! What the flock, man! She almost kill you,” and with that he moves on to speak with the huge fighter.
Mr. Abodolla offers you 30GP, “if you can hack it,” payment upon completion, to train for and participate in the next Arena Games, taking place in two weeks, the Beauty Pageant. If you agree, you are instructed to come back the next morning at 8 Bells. Abodolla points you to an area toward the back of the arena floor, protected from view from the front gate by a large barrier on wheels which divides the grounds. “There.”
Ednyss smiles at the High Priest and embraces Malike and telling him all about his exploits in the army. He doesn't embellish the story as he did with the other acolytes, and instead discusses his mistakes as much as his successes. As they talk, he asks for pointers on strategy, and places where he perhaps over-extended or did not capitalize on a mistake made by the enemy. "And that's about it... But you should have seen the size of that thing! It took out most of our squadron with a single blow. It is only by the grace of Takal Demesh that I am standing here today. It is nice to be back though, has there been anything happening here recently? Other than the Dwarven New Year, which I am sad to have missed." Ednyss is genuinely curious about the goings on of the temple and will attempt to make himself useful (at least until his guard duty begins in Beauty).
(OOC: Ednyss tells Malike everything, but focuses on his mistakes. Viewing Malike as a sort of mentor figure for Ednyss, discussing his failures with Malike are the best way (that he sees) to improve his own combat capability and tactics.)
RP#5
His Excellence, Malike Sabir, High Priest of Takal Demesh, settles into a more conversational tone of voice, and listens with care to Ednyss’ recounting of his years of service, asking clarifying questions from time to time. He is known as one who listens as well as he speaks. When you pause in your tale, Malike is all too happy to bring you up to date with goings on in Ishi Ammah.
“Much has happened in the last two years,” he begins. “You know we had to bring in another acolyte, with so much to do, and you away. I was told that you were offered a place here, and I beg your forgiveness, but that is not so. I am grateful to hear that you have accommodations nearby, Takal Demesh is looking out for you.
“The Games continue apace, and so our neighbors here in Champions prosper or at least maintain their livelihood.
“In the greater city...many were lost in Lakimarra. Many. It was a terrible loss for The Empire, and they try to cover it up. But there was some confusion, some organizational issue which was very, very poorly done. There are whispers that it was espionage, a spy, some clairvoyance beyond the Empire’s ability to prevent.
“Most of those killed or sorely wounded were Orracan. There were many funeral rites last month. Many. And some who have returned...are not what they were. The new security chief at the arena is one of those who, like you, survived. I am told. I have not yet had a moment to welcome him. Haha, as an old bard once told me, my friend, ‘Suspect EVERY moment, for each one is a thief, tiptoeing away with more than it brings.’ ”
He shakes his head slowly, you suspect while envisioning the many grieving families he has seen in recent weeks. He goes on, “There is one more development you would do well to remember. The families from The Vale, the opium lords. They grow in strength when trust in the Empire diminishes. There is more opium in this city today, I believe, than any of us would guess, and more than at any time before now. Especially in the Docks. The drug lords are merciless, and I am convinced that they are responsible for the disappearance of many good people of our city.”
He pauses once more, ruminating for a moment, then with a broad smile, and clamping a strong hand on Ednyss’ shoulder in parting, says “you know where to find me, eh?” And takes his leave. With steady step he passes through to the Temple’s living quarters.
(OOC: is there anything else Ednyss would like to do in the days before reporting to the Arena for the Games in the month of Beauty?
Mr. Abodolla, he of the puffed harem trousers and baggy-sleeved sky blue daywear, topped with a rakishly tilted indigo turban, speaks to you in the tones of a businessman. He introduces you to the other man, the one he told you makes decisions regarding participants in the arena’s Games.
“This is Mr. Kovalenko, the arena’s fighting master.” Kovalenko is a Khazaran, and he wears white pantaloons, below a thick corset or belt, and above that, a white, colorfully embroidered cotton shirt, open at the neck to reveal a thickly hair-covered barrel chest. A tattoo of opposing daggers, the symbol of Ellosh, peeks out from below an extraordinary collection of wrought golden chains. His head is bare, save for black sideburns and whiskers only on his cheeks bristling out, like a cat’s. He speaks Jenghen with a pronounced Khazar accent.
“You must learn to look at your opponent. Rrrrrealy, truly look at them. They will tell you what is their intent, isn’t that right, Abodolla?” To which Mr. Abodolla absently nods as he gives instructions to a groundsman.
Kovalenko continues, “You fight well, girrrl. Actually, verrrry badly, but I can work with you, eef you have the spirit and the drrrrive. Mr. Abodolla has informed me that you want to participate in the Beauty Pageant. (OOC: “Beauty” is the third month of the Jenghen calendar, which is approaching within a fortnight.). “I may have a role for you. Now, I must attend to otherr matterrrs, but I leave you to discuss terrrms with Mr. Abodolla. Perhaps I see you tomorrow. Hey BALI! What the flock, man! She almost kill you,” and with that he moves on to speak with the huge fighter.
Mr. Abodolla offers you 30GP, “if you can hack it,” payment upon completion, to train for and participate in the next Arena Games, taking place in two weeks, the Beauty Pageant. If you agree, you are instructed to come back the next morning at 8 Bells. Abodolla points you to an area toward the back of the arena floor, protected from view from the front gate by a large barrier on wheels which divides the grounds. “There.”
Varielky salutes. Then remembering she's no longer in the army, she stands at ease again. "Sorry, force of a habit. I won't disappoint you, sir."
Before she gets back to her room, Varielky will stop at the dwarven smithy below. She orders a spear. Nothing fancy, but one that won't disappoint in battle.
The next day, she takes a much shorter jog, only as a warm-up, and stands in the appointed place when the bells ring, marking it 8 bells.
Mittens gladly helps Hania clean up the area. When she asks for his name, he bashfully says, "My name is Mittens. Mittens Toodaloo." If he had no fur, she would see his is blushing a shade of deep red. He continues on, embarrassed, "It's my dumb kid name. My family has this stupid tradition where we have to earn our adult names." He shifts his satchel on his shoulder before saying, " Anyways, see you tomorrow!" He bounds down the stairs and heads home. When he arrives, he informs everyone that he is going to be busy a few hours tomorrow.
The next day after he takes care of his morning tasks with Nightsprinter, he heads back over to the Church. When he enters, he corners an acolyte and tells them that Hania invited him to be set the library today. He could easily to back there by himself, but he's pretty sure that arriving by himself would be frowned upon.
When he arrives, he gives a pouch of 25 gold to Hania if she is there before finding the book and settling down at a desk. He spends the next few hours poring over it and formulating the arcane algorithm embedded within it. He inscribed it into his one spellbook with great care. A few more hours later, he finishes the final arcane phrase, and a great sense of accomplishment and satisfaction washes through him as he leans back in his chair and happily sighs. He puts his han in the air above his book and casts Prestidigitation to dry the ink of his newly acquired false life. He takes a moment to double check his work before happily cleaning up his area. After he finishes that, he approaches Hania if she is there and asks with a happy smile, "You don't happen to have something like 'A Beginner's Guide to Moeitu' or something, do you?"
((OOC: When do you think we will all meet up again? I'm just curious so I know how long I have to get my stuff done.))
RP#9 Mittens
Hania laughs again in her kindhearted way, and smiles broadly at you. “ ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Moeitu’? You have already read it. That’s what ‘The Question of Ages’ is, Mittens. But if you are still curious about Moeitu, may I show you my favorite book?” And she hands you another, longer volume from her desk. “This is my copy. Please, borrow it, and after you have read it, you must tell me your reaction. And it’s all right if you hate it, Moeitu is not for everyone.”
Later in the day, after some thought, she asks, “How do you gain your adult name? I think there is no question it is past time.” And some hours later, when you have finished copying your spell, she says, “You are so very studious. Mittens, have you even seen the city yet? You know there will be Games at the Arena very soon. We, the acolytes, that is, will go together and say a prayer to Moeitu for the fallen. We also enjoy the circus, it is splendid! Will you accompany us?”
(OOC: Hania tells Mittens that in order to have a “membership” with the library, he could either become an acolyte (OOOOC: he would not have to change class) or else pay a monthly fee, as a donation to the temple, 30gp per month. Copying spells is an extra expense, as outlined in the prior post. I’m going to say that there are one or two necromancy spells hidden in the library of each level, 1st - 5th level.)
(OOC: I think you’ll all meet up again pretty soon. What other things do you want to do before then?)
Ednyss will go back to the Docks that night to test his luck at Slaughterhouse once again. Entering the Prince's Sail, this time he also keeps an eye and ear peeled for any sign of these drug lords. He doesn't do anything obvious, however, and isn't planning on taking any action immediately, but he at least watches for any signs. He also keeps his patron's guidance upon him to guide both his search for potential drug lords and his gaming.
Settling at the table again, Ednyss gives a wary smile to the other players reminiscing to last night when he lost miserably. Taking the first hand and peeking at his cards, he looks at the other players with a furtive glance assessing his position.
Advancing easily to the second round, Ednyss virtually reads the minds of every other player, sweeping their feet out from under them before proceeding to thump them with a stellar hand.
Winning another hand, he manages to beat the troop and take the winnings on the table, but the ante was low and so he doesn't quite make up for the money that he lost last night. Satisfied with the win, Ednyss politely excuses himself from the table knowing that he doesn't have two more hours and deciding to spend a little more time looking around and just snooping around potential locations where he might have seen drug dealers pass. Again, he isn't looking to get into a fight, but sometimes knowing your way into the underground of a city can be important. After another hour or so of watching and pretending to mind his own business, Ednyss heads back to the smithy where he heads upstairs to get some rest. For the next week and a half or so, Ednyss gets a full night of sleep and doesn't head back to the Docks to ensure that he is at full functioning capacity when his job gets around to starting at the beginning of Beauty. Meandering around town, helping Ingrid, and pitching in at the Temple occupy most of Ednyss's time, and in whatever time he has left, he sits in the arena watching some of the training bouts.
Imble Shu frowns deeply at the silver, but then rolls his eyes and quickly pockets the coins, shaking his head at Ka’imi derisively. His eyes suddenly widen, as if remembering something, and after a moment’s thought, he tells you, “His son come sooooonnnn...“Farmer, tanner called Amastan el Afid. Son is named Idder. You bring animals you catch, show us. Then maybe we make deal, I have big order. Then springtime coming…” this last he says, looking at the items he has for sale and again shaking his head. Remembering you are there as an afterthought, he repeats, “8 Bells on 20th Day of Glory,” (OOC: the third day after today, two full days between now and then. 8 Bells equals 8 o’clock a.m. The bells are rung at each of the public fountains.) "You come.” And with that he greets a well-heeled older Jenghen woman who has stepped up while you were speaking and you see a true salesman at work as you walk away.
Any other tasks while in the city, or do you turn around and get right to work in your woods (for another ½ day of trapping)?
(OOC: for hunting/trapping beyond what you need to survive, please roll a series of 3 survival rolls per day. If there are other skills whose use you can describe in supporting your trapping endeavors, tell me how you want to employ them, and make one separate roll for each one. Keep in mind that ground squirrels hibernate, and Midwinter's Day has just passed.)
(OOC: you DO sense an unusual beast in the vicinity of your woods, not the usual forest animal…)
I leave right away for the woods and 1/2 day of trapping.
Survival Rolls for Trapping this half day: 11 Survival Rolls for Trapping next day: 71315 Survival Rolls for Trapping second day: 172320
My focus is on the fennecs if the ground squirrels are hoping to hibernate. I start in a straight line north from my shelter six hundred yards, and then work clockwise in a circle looking for the fennecs to trap.
Using my tracking skills (Natural Explorer - While tracking other creatures, you also learn their exact number, their sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area.) I try to see if there's any particular place or burrow that holds a large number of hibernating ground squirrels, hoping that a large find might make me more valuable to the skinners: 8
After the second day I head back to the shelter and take the four hour trance before waking and heading to see Imble Shu and Amastan el Afid.
RP#4 Ka’imi
Ka’imi spends the afternoon circling to find fennecs, and by the middle of the second day, he sees the signs he is looking for, and first smells, then sights one. He follows it, without a sound, to a fennec hole, and sets a trap that night. The next day, Ka’imi successfully traps a family of 4 fennecs. He asks the forest where squirrels may be sleeping, and slowly, slowly, in tree-time, he locates two of them.
When he returns to Ishi Ammah at 8 bells on the third day, Imble Shu and Idder el Afid are there, Idder having just dropped off a bundle of lamb’s wool and a parcel of tanned leather. Imble says, “Show me animals,” firmly, to you, and carefully checks the creature's pelts. One of the squirrels he turns for Idder to see a blemish on its belly, and he nods in agreement. “Yup I see’t.”
But Imble tells you both, “I can use these. Idder, you bring back soon. Spring almost here. Tell your father, more leather, soft leather, kid leather. Next time.” And he turns away.
Idder looks at you appraisingly. He is perhaps 22 years old, an Orracan whose weathered face and bent but muscular body speak of the hours of physical labor, out of doors which make up the mainstay of his existence. He says, “You’ll wanna speak w’t’ol’man. ‘Bout the furs?” He moves on, southward. “Come w’me.”
He stops at another merchant’s table in the Public Market, bargaining firmly for the sale of a few more bundles of leather from a mule-pulled cart he leads. Then, he stops in a corner of the market, and, pulling a small pouch of pistachios from his belt, eats them quietly, spitting out the shells, watching the comings and goings in the market, and offering commentary about his surroundings in brief splurts. “Looka tha’ hat,” and “Wha’ th’” in response to a long funeral procession winding through to the gates, and “G’mornin’ miss” to a pretty young Orracan girl picking up a milk delivery. She stares at him, wordlessly for a moment, then carefully lifts and pulls the covered pail back with her into a pub’s kitchen. He asks you, eventually, “You live in Prince’s Arbor?”
RP#5 Ka’imi
(OOC: moving things along…)
Eventually, Idder clicks his tongue, and the mule follows him as he heads away from the market and out of town, and Ka’imi follows along. The sun comes out, the ground dries out a bit, and the way is easy. His route is on the river road, going in your direction. Not a mile from your woods, he turns off onto a cattle path to a farm. Ka’imi sees a variety of animals there, and many leather skins and a few furs having been expertly skinned, are now dried or drying, some already stretched, tanned, etc. (OOC: lol, I don’t really know how they do all that!)
There, he finds Amastan el Amid, in a truly foul mood. He looks up, astonished, his mouth is gaping, having seen few elves in his life. But you quickly understand that he LIKES elves, and you are a welcome guest.
His foul mood has to do with his flock. Three sheep have not come back in the last week, and he feels certain a predator or predators have killed them. This melds with the tingling sensations Ka’imi has been getting about an unusual beast nearby. He says his neighbors on both sides have had the same problem recently. They all live on the border of a craggy valley which lies between their farms and your little woods.
Amastan says he’d be happy to skin and prepare the furs, he would only ask to split the sales price for them with you. You can see he is a plain man, and that he’s only asking for what he thinks is a fair deal.
He also, seeing your stance and courageous mein, asks if you would help him and Idder track down whatever the beast is, and discourage its -- or their -- continued trespassing on his lands and slaughter of his livestock.
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
RP #2 Dyn Gwelw
Dyn Gwelw follows the garrison man’s directions, past the Temple Market to the western wall, and there finds a 4-storey common house where, asking passersby, he locates and speaks to an elderly woman and arranges for accommodations, a 2nd-floor room with a small fireplace in its center, sparsely accommodated with floor mats much in need of washing. There is bedding, also horrible-smelling, and some candles and a small low table and a cushion on which to sit before it.
That evening, practicing in the Prince’s Arbor, he draws some attention, as his forms are unknown in Orraca u Shia. He notices some children in the park watching him, and some, accompanying their parents, who chat with acquaintances, mimic Dyn’s movements.
The next day, rising early and starting his morning forms at dawn, while a light rain falls, a few elves, also out and enjoying the cool misty rain, note his presence, and watch.
After completing his forms and meditation, Dyn’s eyes open, and standing in front of him is an Orracan child, grinning ear to ear, his face slick and moist, and he is shivering slightly. The smile is one Dyn recognizes, from his first arrival in Ishi Ammah, two years ago. The boy seems hardly to have aged, and he skips away, still smiling, and disappears quickly from view as people gather for Temple Rites.
Taking advantage of this moment, for the Temple has been mostly inactive, seemingly, up until now, Dyn waits until the rites are completed, an hour of incense burning and prayers, before approaching the Acolyte leading the service, an Orracan woman with long, frizzy hair tied with a feathered cord at her belt line, to offer his services as a medical practitioner. She tells him she will speak to the High Priest on his behalf and bids him good day, but he does not see her or Temple activity the next day, or the next. Dyn knows that during winter months, Ritha Demsha is said to sleep, and her Rites are few at this time of year, though busy indeed during the spring season.
In the coming days, scouring the East End and Desert districts, Dyn seems unable to make connections, as the East End inhabitants, entirely Orracan, seem wary indeed of Dyn’s outlandish appearance, and the Deserts District inhabitants seem likewise involved with their daily routines. It seems odd to Dyn, as his readings of the districts were correct, he is certain.
A week later, at the Prince’s Arbor, again after his morning forms and meditation, Dyn Gwelw opens his eyes, and the child is back, smiling again. And a few other children of various ages are with him. “Teach us?” the smiling lad asks.
OCC How many children? Do they look like urchins, or are they from some other 'class'?
Dyn Gwelw looks at them with a measuring eye. "'Teach us', you say; with no introduction? And what is it you expect me to teach you?" He slowly looks from one to the next, sizing them up. "Not that names are so important, but manners are."
He very slowly folds himself down into the pose known as The Dragon Lotus, a position from which an adapt can easily flow into many different forms, both defensive and offensive, with very little effort and awaits their answers.
RP#3
The smile disappears from the first boy, and the others stand quietly for a moment. Their rags and dirty faces indicate with hardly a doubt that they live without the grace of a caring hand or eye to guide them, wash them, or clothe them, and they range in age from perhaps 6, the youngest, to perhaps 11, the oldest, a girl. There are five children in total.
They watch you, standing rather dejectedly in place for a moment, then Smiling Boy, perhaps 8 years old, introduces himself as Abi, and sits down carefully, facing you, not without fear, in a position approximating your own. The others follow suit: Rachid, Sami, Orra, and the oldest girl, Tangie.
Dyn Gwelw folds his hands in front of his chest and makes a slight bow to each, "You may call me Sensei." He points to Abi, "You are henceforth 'Grasshopper'." To Rachid, "You are henceforth 'Firefly'." To Sami, "You are henceforth 'Wasp'." To Orra, "You are henceforth 'Spider'." To Tangle, "You are henceforth 'Dragonfly'." He looks them each in the eye and says, "The first lesson you must learn is that it is you, and you alone, who will will yourself to succeed, . . . or fail."
"Watch and sit as I do," and he will slowly show them how to sit in Dragon Lotus. "Your spine is a river that connects the earth and sky, a river of power. Close your eyes and feel yourself in that river, for it is here from whence you power will flow, the power that will allow you to learn and do. That power is called 'ki' and, when harnessed properly, it can be directed by you mind to flow many different forms as you will it. The river of ki is inexhaustible but your ability to use it is limited by how well you understand it. At first it might seem to you weak and useless, but do not be fooled." He slowly, smoothly stands. "Stand, keep you spine loose, but straight. Become a Dragon Lotus," and he flows smoothly back into Dragon Lotus. Dyn Gwelw will repeat this ten times, watching each carefully, correcting as necessary.
"Grasshopper, what will you need to get us bread, fish and water?" He will give Grasshopper what he needs to buy enough bread, fish enough for all five of them. "We are responsible for ourselves and each other," he points to each "Brother, brother, brother, sister, sister," (OCC I see Grasshopper, Firefly and Wasp as boys; Spider and Dragonfly as girls) and, pointing to himself, "Sensei." He nods at Grasshopper, "While Grasshopper is gone you will sit quietly and in your mind try to see the your "I", that part of your awareness that is your center, the part of you that 'sees' your hand when you look at it, the part of you that you think of as 'me'. Do not worry, Grasshopper, this is something you will be doing for as long as you wish to learn of The Way."
When Grasshopper gets back and everyone has been given food, Dyn Gwelw will ask each of them in turn about something they know of the city or the various groups that make up the peoples of the city. When all have eaten and had a chance to relate something, he will tell them to go about their daily affairs but, to take with them, "Brother, brother, brother, sister, sister."
"Return here, tomorrow, with the sun."
He will return to the Temple of Ritha Demsha to see if there is work for him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
"Oh, that was it?" Mittens asks rhetorically. "I mean, it a great book and all, but it was a bit light on details if you don't mind me saying."
As she hands him a book, he takes it as a smile splits his face. "I'd love to read it. Thanks. I'll have back to you by tomorrow."
Later, when she asks him about his name while he is concentrating on writing down the spell, he says while still carefully writing, "My great great great great great great great grandmother Dragonbane started up a tradition where her family would have to earn their adult names by completing some great challenge or something. They include things like killing a powerful monster, breaking curses, finding a magical artifact and such. The challenge has become a little more, uh..." He struggles to come up with a word for a moment before saying, "relaxed, I guess." He puts his quill down and turns his full attention to her before continuing. "Our kid names out earned by what we do or like when we are very young." A small smile comes across his face as he reminisces. "When I was little, I had a favorite pair of green mittens I would always wear. I lost them when my family took me on one of their treasure hunts." His smile fades as he says, " I lost a lot that day... "
He clears his throat after a moment and continues, "Normally, my parents would call a meeting with all our extended family descended from Dragonbane. Everyone would come, and we would have a big reunion while the elders of each family decide what my challenge would be. We would have a ceremony that they would announce what I needed to do. I would then have a year to complete my task. If I complete my task and come back with proof, then we would all meet up again and celebrate. We would have another ceremony were the elders would announce my new name. My new name would correlate with want my take was. I bet you can't tell what Dragonbane did," he adds sarcastically. "Now, I'm just waiting for my relatives in staying with to decide to call a meeting as I'm not allowed to call one myself."
When she questions him after he finishes transcribing his spell, he says, "I actually haven't seen much of the city yet." When she invites him, his eyes widen in delight. He says, "I would love to it it won't inconvenience you at all."
When he finishes cleaning up his area, he leaves with a friendly wave and heads out to the market. While there, he spends 25 gold purchasing rare herbs, incense, and oils required to finalize the spell he just learned. He walks into a bar and orders a few shots of cheap alcohol and stores them in some vials. He then walks to a graveyard and wanders around until he thinks no one can see him. He picks as grave site and falls to his hands and knees, and then he proceeds to take mourn and pray to trick those who may be watching him. While he does, he takes handfuls of dirt and soil from the grave and stuffs them in his pockets. After grabbing enough, he stands up, dusts himself off, and head home.
He spends the rest of the day attending to Nightsprinter while reading the book loaned to him by Hania.
Later that night when everyone has fallen asleep, he climbs out of his bed and clears the floor of his room. He takes the alcohol, soil, and oils out his bag and mixes them together. He then draws a large pentogram on his floor using the special mud he just made. He sizes the remainder of the mud to daub the proper symbols and runes around the circle, and then draws some.on his face and the palms of his hands. He lights the incense and places them around the pentogram at the appropriate places. Finally, he sprinkles the herbs around the pentogram.
He places his spellbook on the floor in front of him as he kneels down into his knees. He gingerly opens it up to the paste where his new spell is inscribed. He closes his eyes and begins to quietly chant in the language of the arcane. He opens his mind up to the Sea of Stars and drinks deeply of its astral power. The necromantic anchors he inscribed in the floor sifts through the energy now suffusing him until only Necromancy remains. He reaches out and touches the spell with his hands as he carefully pours out the energy suffusing him and binds it into the words he wrote. As it leaves him, he opens his eyes and sees the words shimmer with arcane power before they settle back into the page. Happy that he can now use the spell, he cleans up and scrubs the floor to remove all evidence of what he did before going back to sleep.
The next day, he attends to Nightsprinter and finishes Hania's book at the same time. He takes notes of what he thinks is important before returning it.
((OOC: That should satisfy the other 25 gold requirement of learning a new spell.))
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
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Varielky breathes heavily as she shakes the other woman's hand. "I wouldn't want you as my opponent on a real battle field. Well fought."
Varielky looks at the Orracan. He seems to be popular and confident while she's already a little tired and her thigh still hurt from the last match. She takes on a stance and is ready for the fight. She looks on her weapons. Blunt and wide weapons were not her favourite, but at least she has a shield now, that's always a good thing to have around. She also makes a mental note to buy another weapon later - it was disappointing she wasn't given her favourite weapon when she was enlisted. "Not as effective as a longsword", or something like that.
Initiative: 9
Intimidation: 16
Attack: 8 Damage: 5
Attack: 17 Damage: 4
Attack: 23 Damage: 4
Attack: 11 Damage: 8
Attack: 25 Damage: 7
Varielky
RP#8 Mittens
“I was going to say,” she pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, “the Learned One...has intuitions. He said something to me, when we — my family — first moved here from Fa Tahesi. I was young, only 10. We came to this Temple when my uncle passed away (may Moietu be just). Most adults, when they meet a child, speak in a certain way, not like to a person, just to an image they have in mind of what a child is. But he saw me, and I have always remembered his words. He looks deeply into people, without even trying. I have seen this during my months and years here many times. You...should think about your conversation with him. About why you are here today, in this room.” Her gaze raises from the candle holder she had been gently polishing on the table in front of her while she spoke, and she smiles for just a moment as your eyes meet.
Just then, the sound of a very small bell can be heard from afar, and the acolyte starts, with a quick intake of breath. “Oh! I am late. Can you help me?” And you help her clear the tables, blow out candles and close lanterns, and she locks the doors behind you both with a key she keeps on a thin necklace, and she guides you with a quick step back up to the public temple, now vacant, the only sounds coming from the street, where children are being called in for their evening meal as the temperature drops. It looks like rain. “I am Haniah. May I know your name?” After your response, she turns back inside. “I will be here tomorrow. May Moeitu be kind!” and she leaves as another, more insistent, ringing sound from within delicately chimes.
(OOC: Assuming you go back the next day, you can donate 25GP to the temple to learn one 1st level necromantic spell of your choice. It will take time, because the spell is not in a separate wizardly tome. Rather, after reading carefully through several codices, you realize that a chapter you just finished reading details the workings of a spell well enough that you can infer the spell from the description. The 25GP is just going to be a rough game mechanic, and the price will multiply by spell level, going forward. You will still need to search the markets for material components to practice the spell, and those will cost another 25GP/level, as usual.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP#6 Varielky
Bali allows Varielky the first blow, which he takes square on with his shield. A smaller fighter would have been shaken, but Bali, silent, takes it without missing a beat. He awaits a second blow, and a third, and seems able to effortlessly absorb the brunt of the attack, or deftly shift away. His arm is suddenly a blur, and a quick backhanded blow lands, knocking Varielky back to the far end of the pen.
The onlookers shout, some letting out barks of laughter at Bali’s strength. “Ha! Show her, Bali!”, and “Oho! This is not going to be pretty!” But others, especially the young Shian you first fought, are rooting for the underdog, with shouts of “Come Varielky, get him!”
After circling and testing the brute’s defenses, sweat dripping off of her from the day’s exertions, Varielky puts her shield mastery to work, with a firm combination of blocks, turns, shoves, and strikes, drawing shouts of surprise from all, “Takal take her!”
Bali loses his footing for a moment, but is up in an instant, though wavering, on one knee, his eyes unfocused. Seeing her chance, Varielky leaps forward again, and is taken completely off guard -- she realizes he was faking! -- as he reaches through her defenses while she rushes him, grabbing her by the throat with a huge hand, and throwing her roughly to the ground, her breath wheezing out as she sees stars. In a moment he is upon her, she is pinned, and she knows she has lost. The onlookers cheer, though not effusively, for after all, this is the end they all expected.
Bali keeps Varielky pinned perhaps a moment longer, she thinks, than he really had to -- sending her a message -- then moves, and offers her a hand up. You see him look past you to Mr. Abodolla and the other man, with a stiff nod. He looks at you, and says simply, in a resonant basso, “Good.”
Mr. Abodolla points at you until he has your attention, then turns his hand and motions “come here.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP#2 Dyn Gwelw
Wandering through the city, Dyn Gwelw learns that the East End and Desert District are the location of housing for the kind of folk whose ears pick up 'tidbits' of information thatcould allow a perceptive person to learn a lot about what goes on behind the closed doors of the city's political and merchant class. In other words, a suitable garden for harvesting 'ears', for one of Dyn Gwelw's goals is to set up an intelligence network with which to harvest such information. Throughout his years of training his master's taught him the value of knowledge, it allows insight into the Future, enabling one to discern enemies before they themselves are aware that they are enemies; such information allows one to guide the Future, as it were, shaping the river of time as it flows into the Past. And the Past, now there is something that is malleable in the extreme, manipulation of the Past can cause the Future to become more predictable. Change someones ideas about the past and you will change their 'preparations' in the Now which, in turn, affect how they ... 'anticipate' the Future. One's actions Now, to a greater or lesser degree, depending upon station, wealth, position in life, has a great influence upon how the Future becomes Now. So Dyn Gwelw begins his efforts to build an intelligence network, he is planting an 'acorn' in the soil of Ishi Ammah.
But, beginnings do require various sorts of capitol, coin and adherents for the most part. So he will look for both. Every morning he will be in the Prince's Arbor with the sun to practice his forms (and develop new ones as time goes on); seeking not only to maintain and improve himself, but to attract the curious from which to find potential clients, folk who express an interest in learning what he can teach, from whom he might chose candidates for 'hands' - 'hands' are different than 'eyes' in that cells are composed of 'eyes' under the direction of 'hands'.
As Dyn Gwelw's medical skills are a bit above average, he asks at the Temple of Ritha Demsha about where he might find employment using said skills.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
RP#4 Ka’imi
Ka’imi spends the afternoon circling to find fennecs, and by the middle of the second day, he sees the signs he is looking for, and first smells, then sights one. He follows it, without a sound, to a fennec hole, and sets a trap that night. The next day, Ka’imi successfully traps a family of 4 fennecs. He asks the forest where squirrels may be sleeping, and slowly, slowly, in tree-time, he locates two of them.
When he returns to Ishi Ammah at 8 bells on the third day, Imble Shu and Idder el Afid are there, Idder having just dropped off a bundle of lamb’s wool and a parcel of tanned leather. Imble says, “Show me animals,” firmly, to you, and carefully checks the creature's pelts. One of the squirrels he turns for Idder to see a blemish on its belly, and he nods in agreement. “Yup I see’t.”
But Imble tells you both, “I can use these. Idder, you bring back soon. Spring almost here. Tell your father, more leather, soft leather, kid leather. Next time.” And he turns away.
Idder looks at you appraisingly. He is perhaps 22 years old, an Orracan whose weathered face and bent but muscular body speak of the hours of physical labor, out of doors which make up the mainstay of his existence. He says, “You’ll wanna speak w’t’ol’man. ‘Bout the furs?” He moves on, southward. “Come w’me.”
He stops at another merchant’s table in the Public Market, bargaining firmly for the sale of a few more bundles of leather from a mule-pulled cart he leads. Then, he stops in a corner of the market, and, pulling a small pouch of pistachios from his belt, eats them quietly, spitting out the shells, watching the comings and goings in the market, and offering commentary about his surroundings in brief splurts. “Looka tha’ hat,” and “Wha’ th’” in response to a long funeral procession winding through to the gates, and “G’mornin’ miss” to a pretty young Orracan girl picking up a milk delivery. She stares at him, wordlessly for a moment, then carefully lifts and pulls the covered pail back with her into a pub’s kitchen. He asks you, eventually, “You live in Prince’s Arbor?”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP #2 Dyn Gwelw
Dyn Gwelw follows the garrison man’s directions, past the Temple Market to the western wall, and there finds a 4-storey common house where, asking passersby, he locates and speaks to an elderly woman and arranges for accommodations, a 2nd-floor room with a small fireplace in its center, sparsely accommodated with floor mats much in need of washing. There is bedding, also horrible-smelling, and some candles and a small low table and a cushion on which to sit before it.
That evening, practicing in the Prince’s Arbor, he draws some attention, as his forms are unknown in Orraca u Shia. He notices some children in the park watching him, and some, accompanying their parents, who chat with acquaintances, mimic Dyn’s movements.
The next day, rising early and starting his morning forms at dawn, while a light rain falls, a few elves, also out and enjoying the cool misty rain, note his presence, and watch.
After completing his forms and meditation, Dyn’s eyes open, and standing in front of him is an Orracan child, grinning ear to ear, his face slick and moist, and he is shivering slightly. The smile is one Dyn recognizes, from his first arrival in Ishi Ammah, two years ago. The boy seems hardly to have aged, and he skips away, still smiling, and disappears quickly from view as people gather for Temple Rites.
Taking advantage of this moment, for the Temple has been mostly inactive, seemingly, up until now, Dyn waits until the rites are completed, an hour of incense burning and prayers, before approaching the Acolyte leading the service, an Orracan woman with long, frizzy hair tied with a feathered cord at her belt line, to offer his services as a medical practitioner. She tells him she will speak to the High Priest on his behalf and bids him good day, but he does not see her or Temple activity the next day, or the next. Dyn knows that during winter months, Ritha Demsha is said to sleep, and her Rites are few at this time of year, though busy indeed during the spring season.
In the coming days, scouring the East End and Desert districts, Dyn seems unable to make connections, as the East End inhabitants, entirely Orracan, seem wary indeed of Dyn’s outlandish appearance, and the Deserts District inhabitants seem likewise involved with their daily routines. It seems odd to Dyn, as his readings of the districts were correct, he is certain.
A week later, at the Prince’s Arbor, again after his morning forms and meditation, Dyn Gwelw opens his eyes, and the child is back, smiling again. And a few other children of various ages are with him. “Teach us?” the smiling lad asks.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Varielky takes Bali's hand and gets up. She is annoyed, but not at him. She should have been more careful. She should have been smarter. It was obvious he was a good fighter, and she let her guard down. If it were a real battle, her corpse would have been lying under his feet right now.
"Thank you, but you're clearly better. I have to improve." She says. Varielky returns the weapon and shield she received and takes those she brought with her. She gives an apollogestic look to the Shian who rooted for her. "Next time." She thinks. She goes up to Mr. Abodolla. Maybe the second match was just luck, but luck is also important in battle. She has her hopes up.
Varielky
RP#4 Ednyss
Ingrid welcomes Ednyss back, and jokingly tries to cheer him up. “You know what they say in the mines,” she begins, as Ednyss stifles a moan, “better to be unlucky at cards than unlucky with Wards!” a Dwarvish pun referring to the magics which keep tunnels from collapsing far below the surface. It’s a dumb thing to say, but you both know that, and the words don’t matter as much as the smile which almost begrudgingly appears on Ednyss face. After a night among strangers, it is nice to be greeted by someone who speaks his language, literally, and figuratively.
The next morning, Ingrid bangs a pot outside Ednyss’ door to wake him up, growling, in her friendly way, that food was already on the fire and she had her hammer, meaning would have already lit the forge and would be imminently hard at work.
As Ednyss comes out, a teenage Shian lad with a peach-fuzz moustache and beard comes to the smithy, and tells Ingrid, who yells up to Ednyss, that Malike, the High Priest of Takal Demesh, has returned and wishes to see him. Ednyss tells the lad to return a message to Malike, that he’ll be there soon, and the lad rolls his eyes, turns on his heels, and continues on away from the Temple, with other messages to deliver before his return.
Upon his arrival at the temple, Ednyss sees His Excellence, Malike Sabir, High Priest of Takal Demesh in Ishi Ammah, in his usual day-garb, a colorful wrap with a large geometric print in orange and red, under a breast plate, with an ornate longsword in its scabbard hanging easily from his belts. He stands on the temple steps, greeting passersby, who shout and wave their greetings. His jaw is wide and square, his mouth is large for his head, with enormous teeth, framed by long, deep creases in his cheeks and dimples in cheeks and chin.
“EDNYSS GREYBEARD,” he shouts in a booming voice which carries straight across the plaza to the Arena, faintly echoing back to the Temple. “WELCOME HOME!” And spreading legs wide to descend to an appropriate height, he offers a crushing bear hug embrace and a rhythmic belly laugh, slapping Ednyss on the back again and again as the two exchange friendly insults and begin to catch up. The other priests, Ikram and Quisa, have duties today, but both stop and join in the conversation when duties allow, for a moment or two.
(OOC: Does Ednyss tell Malike everything that’s transpired, or focus on any specific details?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss smiles at the High Priest and embraces Malike and telling him all about his exploits in the army. He doesn't embellish the story as he did with the other acolytes, and instead discusses his mistakes as much as his successes. As they talk, he asks for pointers on strategy, and places where he perhaps over-extended or did not capitalize on a mistake made by the enemy. "And that's about it... But you should have seen the size of that thing! It took out most of our squadron with a single blow. It is only by the grace of Takal Demesh that I am standing here today. It is nice to be back though, has there been anything happening here recently? Other than the Dwarven New Year, which I am sad to have missed." Ednyss is genuinely curious about the goings on of the temple and will attempt to make himself useful (at least until his guard duty begins in Beauty).
(OOC: Ednyss tells Malike everything, but focuses on his mistakes. Viewing Malike as a sort of mentor figure for Ednyss, discussing his failures with Malike are the best way (that he sees) to improve his own combat capability and tactics.)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Mittens gladly helps Hania clean up the area. When she asks for his name, he bashfully says, "My name is Mittens. Mittens Toodaloo." If he had no fur, she would see his is blushing a shade of deep red. He continues on, embarrassed, "It's my dumb kid name. My family has this stupid tradition where we have to earn our adult names." He shifts his satchel on his shoulder before saying, " Anyways, see you tomorrow!" He bounds down the stairs and heads home. When he arrives, he informs everyone that he is going to be busy a few hours tomorrow.
The next day after he takes care of his morning tasks with Nightsprinter, he heads back over to the Church. When he enters, he corners an acolyte and tells them that Hania invited him to be set the library today. He could easily to back there by himself, but he's pretty sure that arriving by himself would be frowned upon.
When he arrives, he gives a pouch of 25 gold to Hania if she is there before finding the book and settling down at a desk. He spends the next few hours poring over it and formulating the arcane algorithm embedded within it. He inscribed it into his one spellbook with great care. A few more hours later, he finishes the final arcane phrase, and a great sense of accomplishment and satisfaction washes through him as he leans back in his chair and happily sighs. He puts his han in the air above his book and casts Prestidigitation to dry the ink of his newly acquired false life. He takes a moment to double check his work before happily cleaning up his area. After he finishes that, he approaches Hania if she is there and asks with a happy smile, "You don't happen to have something like 'A Beginner's Guide to Moeitu' or something, do you?"
((OOC: When do you think we will all meet up again? I'm just curious so I know how long I have to get my stuff done.))
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
OCC How many children? Do they look like urchins, or are they from some other 'class'?
Dyn Gwelw looks at them with a measuring eye. "'Teach us', you say; with no introduction? And what is it you expect me to teach you?" He slowly looks from one to the next, sizing them up. "Not that names are so important, but manners are."
He very slowly folds himself down into the pose known as The Dragon Lotus, a position from which an adapt can easily flow into many different forms, both defensive and offensive, with very little effort and awaits their answers.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
RP#3
The smile disappears from the first boy, and the others stand quietly for a moment. Their rags and dirty faces indicate with hardly a doubt that they live without the grace of a caring hand or eye to guide them, wash them, or clothe them, and they range in age from perhaps 6, the youngest, to perhaps 11, the oldest, a girl. There are five children in total.
They watch you, standing rather dejectedly in place for a moment, then Smiling Boy, perhaps 8 years old, introduces himself as Abi, and sits down carefully, facing you, not without fear, in a position approximating your own. The others follow suit: Rachid, Sami, Orra, and the oldest girl, Tangie.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP#7 Varielky
Mr. Abodolla, he of the puffed harem trousers and baggy-sleeved sky blue daywear, topped with a rakishly tilted indigo turban, speaks to you in the tones of a businessman. He introduces you to the other man, the one he told you makes decisions regarding participants in the arena’s Games.
“This is Mr. Kovalenko, the arena’s fighting master.” Kovalenko is a Khazaran, and he wears white pantaloons, below a thick corset or belt, and above that, a white, colorfully embroidered cotton shirt, open at the neck to reveal a thickly hair-covered barrel chest. A tattoo of opposing daggers, the symbol of Ellosh, peeks out from below an extraordinary collection of wrought golden chains. His head is bare, save for black sideburns and whiskers only on his cheeks bristling out, like a cat’s. He speaks Jenghen with a pronounced Khazar accent.
“You must learn to look at your opponent. Rrrrrealy, truly look at them. They will tell you what is their intent, isn’t that right, Abodolla?” To which Mr. Abodolla absently nods as he gives instructions to a groundsman.
Kovalenko continues, “You fight well, girrrl. Actually, verrrry badly, but I can work with you, eef you have the spirit and the drrrrive. Mr. Abodolla has informed me that you want to participate in the Beauty Pageant. (OOC: “Beauty” is the third month of the Jenghen calendar, which is approaching within a fortnight.). “I may have a role for you. Now, I must attend to otherr matterrrs, but I leave you to discuss terrrms with Mr. Abodolla. Perhaps I see you tomorrow. Hey BALI! What the flock, man! She almost kill you,” and with that he moves on to speak with the huge fighter.
Mr. Abodolla offers you 30GP, “if you can hack it,” payment upon completion, to train for and participate in the next Arena Games, taking place in two weeks, the Beauty Pageant. If you agree, you are instructed to come back the next morning at 8 Bells. Abodolla points you to an area toward the back of the arena floor, protected from view from the front gate by a large barrier on wheels which divides the grounds. “There.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP#5
His Excellence, Malike Sabir, High Priest of Takal Demesh, settles into a more conversational tone of voice, and listens with care to Ednyss’ recounting of his years of service, asking clarifying questions from time to time. He is known as one who listens as well as he speaks. When you pause in your tale, Malike is all too happy to bring you up to date with goings on in Ishi Ammah.
“Much has happened in the last two years,” he begins. “You know we had to bring in another acolyte, with so much to do, and you away. I was told that you were offered a place here, and I beg your forgiveness, but that is not so. I am grateful to hear that you have accommodations nearby, Takal Demesh is looking out for you.
“The Games continue apace, and so our neighbors here in Champions prosper or at least maintain their livelihood.
“In the greater city...many were lost in Lakimarra. Many. It was a terrible loss for The Empire, and they try to cover it up. But there was some confusion, some organizational issue which was very, very poorly done. There are whispers that it was espionage, a spy, some clairvoyance beyond the Empire’s ability to prevent.
“Most of those killed or sorely wounded were Orracan. There were many funeral rites last month. Many. And some who have returned...are not what they were. The new security chief at the arena is one of those who, like you, survived. I am told. I have not yet had a moment to welcome him. Haha, as an old bard once told me, my friend, ‘Suspect EVERY moment, for each one is a thief, tiptoeing away with more than it brings.’ ”
He shakes his head slowly, you suspect while envisioning the many grieving families he has seen in recent weeks. He goes on, “There is one more development you would do well to remember. The families from The Vale, the opium lords. They grow in strength when trust in the Empire diminishes. There is more opium in this city today, I believe, than any of us would guess, and more than at any time before now. Especially in the Docks. The drug lords are merciless, and I am convinced that they are responsible for the disappearance of many good people of our city.”
He pauses once more, ruminating for a moment, then with a broad smile, and clamping a strong hand on Ednyss’ shoulder in parting, says “you know where to find me, eh?” And takes his leave. With steady step he passes through to the Temple’s living quarters.
(OOC: is there anything else Ednyss would like to do in the days before reporting to the Arena for the Games in the month of Beauty?
Will he try his hand at gambling again?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Varielky salutes. Then remembering she's no longer in the army, she stands at ease again. "Sorry, force of a habit. I won't disappoint you, sir."
Before she gets back to her room, Varielky will stop at the dwarven smithy below. She orders a spear. Nothing fancy, but one that won't disappoint in battle.
The next day, she takes a much shorter jog, only as a warm-up, and stands in the appointed place when the bells ring, marking it 8 bells.
Varielky
RP#9 Mittens
Hania laughs again in her kindhearted way, and smiles broadly at you. “ ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Moeitu’? You have already read it. That’s what ‘The Question of Ages’ is, Mittens. But if you are still curious about Moeitu, may I show you my favorite book?” And she hands you another, longer volume from her desk. “This is my copy. Please, borrow it, and after you have read it, you must tell me your reaction. And it’s all right if you hate it, Moeitu is not for everyone.”
Later in the day, after some thought, she asks, “How do you gain your adult name? I think there is no question it is past time.” And some hours later, when you have finished copying your spell, she says, “You are so very studious. Mittens, have you even seen the city yet? You know there will be Games at the Arena very soon. We, the acolytes, that is, will go together and say a prayer to Moeitu for the fallen. We also enjoy the circus, it is splendid! Will you accompany us?”
(OOC: Hania tells Mittens that in order to have a “membership” with the library, he could either become an acolyte (OOOOC: he would not have to change class) or else pay a monthly fee, as a donation to the temple, 30gp per month. Copying spells is an extra expense, as outlined in the prior post. I’m going to say that there are one or two necromancy spells hidden in the library of each level, 1st - 5th level.)
(OOC: I think you’ll all meet up again pretty soon. What other things do you want to do before then?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss will go back to the Docks that night to test his luck at Slaughterhouse once again. Entering the Prince's Sail, this time he also keeps an eye and ear peeled for any sign of these drug lords. He doesn't do anything obvious, however, and isn't planning on taking any action immediately, but he at least watches for any signs. He also keeps his patron's guidance upon him to guide both his search for potential drug lords and his gaming.
Perception (To watch out for suspicious characters): 18
Guidance: 1
Settling at the table again, Ednyss gives a wary smile to the other players reminiscing to last night when he lost miserably. Taking the first hand and peeking at his cards, he looks at the other players with a furtive glance assessing his position.
Rolls:
Insight: 11
Investigation: 10
Sleight of Hand: 15
Deception: 6
Perception: 22
Insight (Repeat): 23
Inspiration: 6
Guidance: 4
Total: 106 (Success)
Advancing easily to the second round, Ednyss virtually reads the minds of every other player, sweeping their feet out from under them before proceeding to thump them with a stellar hand.
Rolls:
Insight: 19
Investigation: 1
Sleight of Hand: 11
Deception: 17
Perception: 16
Insight (Repeat): 18
Inspiration: 6
Guidance: 2
Total: 88 (Success)
4 x 6 = 6 GP
Winning another hand, he manages to beat the troop and take the winnings on the table, but the ante was low and so he doesn't quite make up for the money that he lost last night. Satisfied with the win, Ednyss politely excuses himself from the table knowing that he doesn't have two more hours and deciding to spend a little more time looking around and just snooping around potential locations where he might have seen drug dealers pass. Again, he isn't looking to get into a fight, but sometimes knowing your way into the underground of a city can be important. After another hour or so of watching and pretending to mind his own business, Ednyss heads back to the smithy where he heads upstairs to get some rest. For the next week and a half or so, Ednyss gets a full night of sleep and doesn't head back to the Docks to ensure that he is at full functioning capacity when his job gets around to starting at the beginning of Beauty. Meandering around town, helping Ingrid, and pitching in at the Temple occupy most of Ednyss's time, and in whatever time he has left, he sits in the arena watching some of the training bouts.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
RP#5 Ka’imi
(OOC: moving things along…)
Eventually, Idder clicks his tongue, and the mule follows him as he heads away from the market and out of town, and Ka’imi follows along. The sun comes out, the ground dries out a bit, and the way is easy. His route is on the river road, going in your direction. Not a mile from your woods, he turns off onto a cattle path to a farm. Ka’imi sees a variety of animals there, and many leather skins and a few furs having been expertly skinned, are now dried or drying, some already stretched, tanned, etc. (OOC: lol, I don’t really know how they do all that!)
There, he finds Amastan el Amid, in a truly foul mood. He looks up, astonished, his mouth is gaping, having seen few elves in his life. But you quickly understand that he LIKES elves, and you are a welcome guest.
His foul mood has to do with his flock. Three sheep have not come back in the last week, and he feels certain a predator or predators have killed them. This melds with the tingling sensations Ka’imi has been getting about an unusual beast nearby. He says his neighbors on both sides have had the same problem recently. They all live on the border of a craggy valley which lies between their farms and your little woods.
Amastan says he’d be happy to skin and prepare the furs, he would only ask to split the sales price for them with you. You can see he is a plain man, and that he’s only asking for what he thinks is a fair deal.
He also, seeing your stance and courageous mein, asks if you would help him and Idder track down whatever the beast is, and discourage its -- or their -- continued trespassing on his lands and slaughter of his livestock.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Dyn Gwelw folds his hands in front of his chest and makes a slight bow to each, "You may call me Sensei." He points to Abi, "You are henceforth 'Grasshopper'." To Rachid, "You are henceforth 'Firefly'." To Sami, "You are henceforth 'Wasp'." To Orra, "You are henceforth 'Spider'." To Tangle, "You are henceforth 'Dragonfly'." He looks them each in the eye and says, "The first lesson you must learn is that it is you, and you alone, who will will yourself to succeed, . . . or fail."
"Watch and sit as I do," and he will slowly show them how to sit in Dragon Lotus. "Your spine is a river that connects the earth and sky, a river of power. Close your eyes and feel yourself in that river, for it is here from whence you power will flow, the power that will allow you to learn and do. That power is called 'ki' and, when harnessed properly, it can be directed by you mind to flow many different forms as you will it. The river of ki is inexhaustible but your ability to use it is limited by how well you understand it. At first it might seem to you weak and useless, but do not be fooled." He slowly, smoothly stands. "Stand, keep you spine loose, but straight. Become a Dragon Lotus," and he flows smoothly back into Dragon Lotus. Dyn Gwelw will repeat this ten times, watching each carefully, correcting as necessary.
"Grasshopper, what will you need to get us bread, fish and water?" He will give Grasshopper what he needs to buy enough bread, fish enough for all five of them. "We are responsible for ourselves and each other," he points to each "Brother, brother, brother, sister, sister," (OCC I see Grasshopper, Firefly and Wasp as boys; Spider and Dragonfly as girls) and, pointing to himself, "Sensei." He nods at Grasshopper, "While Grasshopper is gone you will sit quietly and in your mind try to see the your "I", that part of your awareness that is your center, the part of you that 'sees' your hand when you look at it, the part of you that you think of as 'me'. Do not worry, Grasshopper, this is something you will be doing for as long as you wish to learn of The Way."
When Grasshopper gets back and everyone has been given food, Dyn Gwelw will ask each of them in turn about something they know of the city or the various groups that make up the peoples of the city. When all have eaten and had a chance to relate something, he will tell them to go about their daily affairs but, to take with them, "Brother, brother, brother, sister, sister."
"Return here, tomorrow, with the sun."
He will return to the Temple of Ritha Demsha to see if there is work for him.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
"Oh, that was it?" Mittens asks rhetorically. "I mean, it a great book and all, but it was a bit light on details if you don't mind me saying."
As she hands him a book, he takes it as a smile splits his face. "I'd love to read it. Thanks. I'll have back to you by tomorrow."
Later, when she asks him about his name while he is concentrating on writing down the spell, he says while still carefully writing, "My great great great great great great great grandmother Dragonbane started up a tradition where her family would have to earn their adult names by completing some great challenge or something. They include things like killing a powerful monster, breaking curses, finding a magical artifact and such. The challenge has become a little more, uh..." He struggles to come up with a word for a moment before saying, "relaxed, I guess." He puts his quill down and turns his full attention to her before continuing. "Our kid names out earned by what we do or like when we are very young." A small smile comes across his face as he reminisces. "When I was little, I had a favorite pair of green mittens I would always wear. I lost them when my family took me on one of their treasure hunts." His smile fades as he says, " I lost a lot that day... "
He clears his throat after a moment and continues, "Normally, my parents would call a meeting with all our extended family descended from Dragonbane. Everyone would come, and we would have a big reunion while the elders of each family decide what my challenge would be. We would have a ceremony that they would announce what I needed to do. I would then have a year to complete my task. If I complete my task and come back with proof, then we would all meet up again and celebrate. We would have another ceremony were the elders would announce my new name. My new name would correlate with want my take was. I bet you can't tell what Dragonbane did," he adds sarcastically. "Now, I'm just waiting for my relatives in staying with to decide to call a meeting as I'm not allowed to call one myself."
When she questions him after he finishes transcribing his spell, he says, "I actually haven't seen much of the city yet." When she invites him, his eyes widen in delight. He says, "I would love to it it won't inconvenience you at all."
When he finishes cleaning up his area, he leaves with a friendly wave and heads out to the market. While there, he spends 25 gold purchasing rare herbs, incense, and oils required to finalize the spell he just learned. He walks into a bar and orders a few shots of cheap alcohol and stores them in some vials. He then walks to a graveyard and wanders around until he thinks no one can see him. He picks as grave site and falls to his hands and knees, and then he proceeds to take mourn and pray to trick those who may be watching him. While he does, he takes handfuls of dirt and soil from the grave and stuffs them in his pockets. After grabbing enough, he stands up, dusts himself off, and head home.
He spends the rest of the day attending to Nightsprinter while reading the book loaned to him by Hania.
Later that night when everyone has fallen asleep, he climbs out of his bed and clears the floor of his room. He takes the alcohol, soil, and oils out his bag and mixes them together. He then draws a large pentogram on his floor using the special mud he just made. He sizes the remainder of the mud to daub the proper symbols and runes around the circle, and then draws some.on his face and the palms of his hands. He lights the incense and places them around the pentogram at the appropriate places. Finally, he sprinkles the herbs around the pentogram.
He places his spellbook on the floor in front of him as he kneels down into his knees. He gingerly opens it up to the paste where his new spell is inscribed. He closes his eyes and begins to quietly chant in the language of the arcane. He opens his mind up to the Sea of Stars and drinks deeply of its astral power. The necromantic anchors he inscribed in the floor sifts through the energy now suffusing him until only Necromancy remains. He reaches out and touches the spell with his hands as he carefully pours out the energy suffusing him and binds it into the words he wrote. As it leaves him, he opens his eyes and sees the words shimmer with arcane power before they settle back into the page. Happy that he can now use the spell, he cleans up and scrubs the floor to remove all evidence of what he did before going back to sleep.
The next day, he attends to Nightsprinter and finishes Hania's book at the same time. He takes notes of what he thinks is important before returning it.
((OOC: That should satisfy the other 25 gold requirement of learning a new spell.))
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable