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Throwing in a vote for D as long as it's the Orc, because I think it'd be funny and I'm immature like that.
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May 13, 2018 16:41
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Aria glances around as if checking if anyone is listening before leaning in. Sapphire and Mariam also lean closer, and in a low voice, Aria says, "I seek vengeance on the man who killed my father." Braxton's eyes go wide as she looks at Aria, and Mariam and Sapphire cover their surprise wit a hand. The rest of the party have the decency to keep a straight face. "What-" starts Sapphire, louder than she intended, before stopping herself and glancing around. She continues in a whisper, "What happened? What do you plan to do?" Aria tries not to let her grin show on her face as she continues. "I was young when it happened, but I dedicated my life to the art of combat. So the next time I see him, I will say to him, 'Hello. My name is-" Just then, she is interrupted by the sound of bells signaling someone entering the inn. Mariam and Sapphire nearly jump out of their seats from the shock. "Goodness!" exclaims Sapphire as she gets up and hurries to welcome the new patron. Mariam looks at Aria with wide eyes, "Is all of that true?" "Must be just a story to get a rise out of Sapphire. Your father wasn't actually killed, right?" asks Braxton, but the concern on her face indicates that she believes her. "Would've made running away to start a music career easier," mutters Minar to Aria, who lets her grin slip out. "MORNING," Urk calls from the stairs, wasting no time by closing with the breakfast spread and digging into the ham. Deepmind follows in her wake and hands Celyse's letter back to Athtar. "There was a message in the letter after all." She lowers her voice to a whisper. "'Plot to kill noble family'. Celyse must've been worried whoever's responsible is having her watched." "I feared as much. Good work decoding the message." "URK SOLVED IT," the Orc casually adds before downing a whole egg. "THOUGH CONTENTS OF MESSAGE SEEMED OBVIOUS TO URK, BASED ON SUBTEXT AND CONTEXTUAL CUES." The table is quiet for a moment as her statement sinks in, apart from the crunch of eggshells under Orc teeth. "Well," continues Athtar. "We should waste no more time in making contact. I will go to the manor presently and speak with Celyse. It would be better we not go all at once, to avoid drawing overmuch attention." "Then maybe the rest of us can explore the village?" Aria waves broadly with her glass of juice. "You know, get the lay of the land, that sort of thing." Deepmind climbs up to the table and begins pocketing bits of breakfast for later. "Whatever we do, don't travel alone. The Swan seems safe enough, but until we know what we're dealing with, we should play it safe." After breakfast, the party returns to their rooms to grab what they'll need before venturing into the village for the day. When they return to the common room, Braxton is also about to set out. Many of the patrons have dispersed since breakfast, but a few remain in the common room, reading or mingling with one another. Mariam is nowhere to be seen. "If you have any questions about Dragonholt, don't hesitate to ask me," says Sapphire. "Where has Mariam gone off to?" asks Braxton. "Oh, that child couldn't wait any longer and ran off to see the old apothecary's shop." Sapphire shakes her head. "Even if she buys it, it'll be some time before it's up and running. Nasty fire, it was. Lorimor fire is nothing to take lightly." "Thank you for your kindness, lady Sapphire," says Athtar, approaching their host. "Could you provide us with directions to the Fairfax manor? We have some business there." Sapphire's face shifts to match his more serious mood. "Of course. The manor is just north of here. If you walk around to the north side of the block and look north you can't miss it. Big fancy buildings on the hill." Sapphire tilts her head slightly. "Is everything alright, dear?" "Absolutely. Please, don't worry about us." The Elf nods to his companions. "Thank you for your hospitality, Sapphire," says Braxton as she opens the door to leave. "Of course, hon," replies Sapphire. "Good luck with the guards!" Braxton smiles and nods before leaving. The party is just about to depart themselves when Sapphire stops them. "Oh! I almost forgot. If you're going around Dragonholt without a map, you might get lost. It's a small village, but some of the alleyways are a real labyrinth." She produces a folded piece of parchment and lays it out on the counter. "Let's see," she mutters and scans the map. "Ah, here we are!" She marks a spot on the map with "the Swan." She spends a moment marking numerous other locations for convenience. "Here you are. Don't lose it now," she says she folds up the map and hands it to Athtar. "If you have any other questions about Dragonholt, come back and ask me." The encounter is complete  (Now things open up - each day in the village is split into eight time units, tracked on the tracker in the second post. The first two units are the morning, the second two are the afternoon, then two for evening and two for night. Time advances by completing 'encounters' in the village which normally start by choosing a location from the map. Once the day runs out of time (or we return to the Swan and go to sleep), we read the entry closing the day and moving on to the next. The available locations to visit from the map are: -The Orchard -The Northern Road -Fairfax Manor -The Dragon Statues -The Willow Grove -The Eastern Road -The Library -The Shrine -The Village Green -The Drunken Hog -The Countess Inn -The Village Hall -The Guard Station -Market Street -The Smithy -The Apothecary Shop -The Chatty Archer -The Bakery -The Swan Quite a few stops, huh? Also, some locations are only open part of the day - businesses are usually closed by the 5th or 6th time unit, while pubs typically don't open until the 5th. Different things happen at different locations at different days, so try to make note of upcoming events. A few general tips: 1) The Village Hall has notices and posters up about things going on in the village, and going there never uses up time. 2) Visiting the Swan in the daytime lets us ask Sapphire a lot of general knowledge questions about the village and the people in it, visiting it at night can be a good way to wrap up a day 3) While exploring the village we might pick up leads on sidequests. Some of these will be presented to us directly by the main story, while others are entirely optional and can be done at any time. 4) A lot of locations offer opportunities for training, which will let us spend that XP we earned on more skills, but we'll tackle that when we get to it. Okay, that's enough of a tutorial for now!) First to two votes  A) Head to the Fairfax Manor to meet with Celyse B) Check out the village hall C) Report the bandit activity to the guard station
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May 13, 2018 18:14
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Hmm, C seems sensible. We should ensure the town's safety first and foremost.
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May 13, 2018 18:36
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theamazingchris posted:Hmm, C seems sensible. We should ensure the town's safety first and foremost. I agree C sounds good plus we might get a reward
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May 13, 2018 20:42
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The guard station is used as a meeting place for the village guard and a place to store the few implements of war the village has. An attached annex accessible only from outside serves as a jail cell, though it is rarely used. Behind the building is a training area with several training dummies. A dull thwack sounds as Minar circles around to the rear of the guard house. "Keep your shield up!" calls a gruff voice. "My shield is fine," drawls another. Two guards, both human, are sparring with wooden swords and shields, one a woman with a bored expression, the other a lantern-awed man whose face is red with frustration. An orc man, his head spotted with wispy grey hairs, sits and watches them, shaking his head. "Your shield is fine against Deakon, here, but against a real opponent you'd be dead, Tallea!" Deakon, the human man, puffs out his chest and lowers his sword. "It's not becoming to strike a lady, that's all." Tallea rolls her eyes. "An easy thing to say after you've spent all morning trying to strike me and failing." She throws her sword and shield down. "This is pointless. I'm already a better fighter than both of you put together. I'll be back when there's some actual work tat needs doing." She stalks past Minar, barely sparing him a glance, and is soon gone. The orc man stands stiffly as he notices the newcomer. "Ah," he says. "We don't get many visitors here. I'm Tweegal. That was Tallea, this is Deakon." He nods over his shoulder to the human behind him, who flourishes his sword into an over-elaborate bow. "We represent her ladyship's guard here in Dragonholt. Such as it is." "Three guards for the whole county?" Minar mutters, then sighs. "So much for getting backup." Tweegal stomps over to Minar and peers at him with watery yellow eyes. "You're new. Just came in with Sapphire's niece, eh? Through Eventide Forest, no less? How'd you find the journey?" "Oh, fine," Minar snorts. "Except for the part where forty bandits swept down on us in the middle of the night and tried to murder us all. The whole party of eight of us had to fight tooth and nail to escape with our lives." "Well, good job, that. Bandits, eh?" He turns and studies Deakon, who appears to be trying on different gratuitously masculine poses with his sword, peering at his reflection in a muddy puddle in the practice yard. "That's not good news." Minar stares at the old orc, incredulous. "No. It's not." He gradually realizes the guard has nothing else to say on the matter. "So were you thinking of doing anything about it?" "Hm?" Tweegal seems slightly surprised, considering the matter. "Well, I'll pass it on to the Countess, see what she says." "Terrific." Minar sighs again. "Well, don't let me keep you from your duty." Without waiting for an answer, Minar wanders back toward town. Gain one Heroism Time passes (Heroism is another score tracked on the second post., and represents our reputation for good acts in the village. When we fill the Heroism meter, we gain benefits, like fame and XP points or more stamina. We can also choose to spend time at the guard station training to improve our combat and physical skills, but we'll leave that for later.) First to two votes A) Go to Fairfax Manor and make contact with Celyse B) Go to the village hall C) Get second breakfast from the bakery
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May 13, 2018 23:21
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I would say B maybe we can get some more info maybe even a side quest
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May 13, 2018 23:38
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Second breakfast!
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May 13, 2018 23:53
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I actually say 2nd breakfast as well, Urk is still pretty beat-up so I'm hoping that'll restore her stamina.
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May 14, 2018 00:19
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Second breakfast!
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May 14, 2018 00:36
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And after Second Breakfast, Elevenses!
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May 14, 2018 02:59
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The bakery has a warm and cozy storefront featuring a counter with various baked goods on display and a few tables and chairs for customers to enoy their pastries. Urk steps into the bakery and is greeted by the warm smell of baking bread and the chiming of a silver bell on the door. "I'll be right wit' ye!" calls a voice with a thick Dunwarr accent. A muscular dwarf man comes bustling through a door in the back wall, carrying a wooden tray piled high with steaming pastries. The man has golden-brown skin and chestnut hair. His beard is tied in many braids, currently all bound together by a length of twine. He brushes flour off his hands and off the sturdy, practical apron he wears. "Hello," he says. "Me name is Grisbeck Hearthstone, an' this here be the Hearthstone Bakery. Welcome." Grisbeck slides the pastries off his tray, placing each one carefully on a shelf beneath th counter as he does. While he works, he continues to chat. "I don' think I've seen ye about before. New in town, are ye?" "URK ARRIVED YESTERDAY," Urk confirms, perusing the pastries on display with unconcealed hunger. "URK'S NO-GOOD FRIENDS HARDLY LEFT URK ENOUGH BREAKFAST FOR A TINY GNOME, SO URK NEEDS EARLY LUNCH." "Well, pleased to met ye. Ain't that fine." "Dah!" calls a small voice. "Th' door!" Grisbeck smiles and lays one finger alongside his nose. "Jus' a moment." He turns and opens the door in the back wall, admitting a young dwarf girl carrying a broad basket. Her hair is copper, as compared to his warm brown, but the same golden-brown skin. "This is me daughter, Penny," he explains. "Pleased to meet ye," the girl says as she stacks loaves of bread from within her basket on the counter above her head. "LIKE THE COIN," says Urk, studying the small girl. "Aye, the very same. Penny?" says Grisbeck. "Ye've done plenty to help yer dah out today. Ye should run and play with your friends now." ""Oh, dah," says the girl. "I told ye, what use have I got for friends when I've got the best dah south of the Dunwarr Mountains?" She smiles, but it seems a fragile sort of thing, and then she settles down under the windows with a knit owl whose head is attached by only a thread. "Penny," says Grisbeck. "What happened to Thegn Owl?" "Those boys tore him again," says Penny, patting the owl mournfully. "Oh, that ain't right," sighs the baker. He tugs at his beard and clicks his tongue. "They ought ta know better'n t'do such a thing." He frowns then shakes his head and turns his attention to Urk. "What can I do for ye?" Urk had become distracted, considering the girl with the torn doll. The question brings her back, and she eyes the loaves freshly delivered from the oven. "BREAD?" "Well, 'tis a bakery," Grisbeck jokes. He places a still-steaming loaf of dark bread on the counter. "It's best still hot." With a clatter, he adds a crocker of butter and another of honey on the side as well. "I'll say this for th' lowlands," Grisbeck allows. "Th' honey is quite good." Urk enjoys a peaceful second breakfast at one of the bakery's tables, watching the Dwarves as they work. -5 Gold, +2 Stamina Time passes This encounter is complete (Technically only Urk's eating here, but everybody gets the stamina. Consider that the rest of the party snuck more than their fair share at breakfast!) First to two votes A) Go to the Fairfax Manor to make contact with CelyseB) See what's happening at the village hall C) 'Investigate' the Chatty Archer tavern
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May 14, 2018 03:54
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Ah that's kind of wasteful considering everyone else was fine. Oops, oh well. Let's see the village hall since you said that never takes time.
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May 14, 2018 10:09
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Yeah, might as well check out the hall, seems like it's going to be a hub for a little while.
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May 14, 2018 14:57
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Seems like visiting the hall would advance the plot a bit.
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May 14, 2018 20:58
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Deepmind tromps through town, conspicuously alone despite her insistence on the need for caution. Everyone else had ignored her advice anyway, but what's new? A young woman with her hair in dozens of braids ponders the message board. She appears to be sounding out the words of the various missives posted there under her breath, reading slowly and with difficulty. Deepmind hangs back a little to avoid being noticed - not that the woman with the braids presents much threat, but old habits are hard to break. The message board announces that the next market day is in two days, and that there will be a village bonfire that same night. There's also a posting offering a shop for sale, "slightly damanged." Te price is quite modest, considering the size of te building and its location. Deepmind notices a weathered page that states a reward for a passing hero who can help with a goblin infestation. The hero is to report to Fiore Brightmaul at the smithy. 'Hero' is a bit far-fetched, but 'reward' is certainly tempting. She makes a note of the offer for later. The town clerk coughs politely to catch Deepmind's attention, having snuck up on her with all the grace of a civil servant on home territory, then steps forward and introduces himself. "Hello," he says. "My name is Marques. I serve as the clerk for all village business." He smiles an anemic little smile and tugs on his brown tunic. "You just came into town with that orc woman, no?" "Two orc women, actually," says Deepmind. This seems to catch the clerk off-guard, so she presses on. "A party of eight, including Sapphire's niece, Mariam." Struck by a sudden flash of memory, she adds "By the way, the road through the Eventide Forest was blocked up with fallen logs we had to clear. Might want to do something about keeping that route open." She decides to leave off the bit about the bandits for now. "Yes, quite!" The clerk nods and shuffles away through a side door into an office piled high with ledgers, pamphlets, and what must be official records. "The orc woman - Braxton, was it? - mentioned that you'd cleared an obstruction. You have the village's sincere thanks. That road is our main source of trade with the outside world." He returns then, counting out a stack of coins into his hand. "And our sincere thanks means more when there is gold behind it, no?" He offers Deepmind the coins, who immediately slips them into a hidden pouch within her jacket. "Couldn't have said it better myself." The party gains 50 gold One point in Heroism This encounter is complete A) Go to Fairfax Manor and check in with Celyse B) Go to the smithy and investigate the goblin infestation C) 'Investigate' the Chatty Archer tavern
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May 14, 2018 22:42
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Advance the plot
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May 16, 2018 03:40
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Yeah, let's go advance the plot. It'd be weird to take all this effort to go down and see his friend, and then well, not see his friend.
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May 16, 2018 04:14
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The manor house is a sprawling structure of grey stone, its facade covered with dark green ivy. The east wing of the manor is older than the rest, its tall narrow windows doubling as arrow slits and its roof marked by crenellations. An arching stair leads to the main door on the ground floor. Athtar steps into the grand hall of the manor, which is lit only by the sun shining through the high windows. A human serving girl sits at a long table, polishing silver. "Good day," says Athtar, nodding courteously. The young woman sees the Elf and calls out: "Master Tymothi!" A moment later a slender man in a slightly rumpled velvet doublet emerges from a door to his left. "Ah," he says. "Yes, hello. I'm Tymothi, her ladyship's steward." "Pleased to make your acquaintance," says Athtar with a bow. "I am sir Athtar Ravaberos. Is lady Celyse in the house at present? I am an old friend of hers." "Terribly sorry," says Tymothi. "I'm afraid Celyse is not available. To be honest, I haven't seen nor heard from her in two days." Athtar stiffens visibly, uncertainty clouding his face. "Has she been set to some task? Could perhaps the Countess be asked after her?" "No, I'm afraid the Countess is not available to visitors. She is far too busy." There is no ice or venom in the steward's words, just a plain statement of fact. The knight pauses a moment, considering. "Forgive me, but I'd be a poor friend to let matters lie. Could I perhaps see her room? She may have left some sort of note, or at least a clue." "I'm certain it wouldn't be proper to let a perfect stranger into Celyse's room," huffs Tymothi. Athtar withdraws Celyse's letter from his pocket. "I am not a perfect stranger, sir. I am a friend of the good lady and concerned for her wellbeing, which you cannot account for. I ask only the opportunity to investigate. "Well," says Tymothi, looking over the letter. "Yes, I can see your point. This way." He leads Athtar to a doorway to the left of the great hall, then into a long gallery hung with portraits and adorned with statuary. He stops at the second door off the gallery. "This is Celyse's bedchamber," he says as he opens the door. "All the guest rooms are in this wing; even my own chamber." The steward watches from the doorway as Athtar investigates Celyse's room. It's rather large and grander than her usual, with most of the decorations belonging, he suspects, to the manor itself. Only the mess of papers, books and scrolls across the writing desk under the window makes him certain the room belongs to his fellow Elf. There's no evidence of foul play, but Celyse's traveling cloak is not hanging in the closet, her boots are missing, and her journal is nowhere to be seen. "Did she perhaps go on a trip?" Athtar asks, inclining his head toward the empty space in the closet. Tymothi purses his lips. "Yes, now that you mention it, it seems that some of her clothing is missing. Perhaps she packed them? Odd that she didn't tell me where she was going, if so." Eventually, Tymothi escorts Athtar politely - but firmly - from the manor, with promises to send for him if Celyse reappears or reaches out. Athtar has his doubts, but keeps them to himself. A dead end. The knight feels a knot of worry growing in his chest. Between the bandits, the secret message, and now this disappearance - the picture forming was not a happy one. Athtar hoped that his friend was safe, but he was also out of ideas for how to find her. Maybe one of the others would have more luck. Time passes A) Follow your gut to the library B) Investigate the goblin infestation at the smithy C) Check up on Mariam and Braxton at the apothecary shop
Dolash fucked around with this message at 06:43 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 06:24
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....Yeah, that wasn't at all suspicious, no sir. A. When in doubt, go to the library.
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May 16, 2018 14:20
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Let's go C our new friends
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May 16, 2018 16:25
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Tie-breaker?
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May 16, 2018 21:23
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ALTHOUGH URK APPRECIATES GOOD LITERATURE, LETS TALK TO PEOPLE, C
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May 16, 2018 21:47
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Athtar's news that Celyse had apparently gone missing dampened the party's mood. It also impressed the seriousness of the situation on them enough to listen to Deepmind's insistence that they not explore the village alone. As such, when Urist had proposed checking up on Mariam and Braxton's progress with the shop, Minar was reluctantly volunteered to escort him. This is how the two wind up peering into the battered, blackened structure recently acquired by their gnomish acquaintance. The apothecary shop is a two-story building featuring a large storefront nd multiple back rooms. A show window fills nearly the entire front wall of the building, looking out toward the village green. The walls of the apothecary shop are darkened by soot and burnt wood. The front door and its frame are splintered as if the door had been blown off its frame by an explosion. Several boards fastened in a sheet are nailed over what was once a large show window. The front door and the boards that held it in its frame are leaning against the outside wall.Listening, Urist can hear the chipper voice of a certain gnome prattling away inside. The excited chatter is occasionally punctuated by commentary from Braxton. Within, they find Braxton holding the charred remains of a cabinet and Mariam gesticulating with a broom. "And we'll - I'll replace that window with one giant pane of glass!" I'll put some tools and some ingredients in the window, showy stuff, you know, glass tubes and colorful mushrooms and things." Mariam turns to include the newcomers in her excited chatter, apparently not at all surprised to find them in her shop. "Today wee get all this debris out, and tomorrow we bring in the materials to lay new floor and start fixing these walls. It'll be great! You'll see." She flourishes with her broom toward the back room. "I'll set up my workshop back there and use the front space for stocks and sales. It'll have good light; it's important that my customers feel comfortable." "How about your guests?" asks Braxton, nodding at the human and dwarf. "Oh. Right. Good to see you!" "Likewise," replies Urist, with a cheery smile. Minar just shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets. "We've just been acquainting ourselves with Dragonholt and thought we'd see how you were getting on with the new shop." He pauses to take in the burn damage again. "Lorimor fire, eh? Dreadful stuff. Could you use a hand?" Minar turns with a start, but before he can object Mariam says "Oh, are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose; you have your own business to attend to." Minar tries to get a word in edgewise, but Mariam points at a broken pile of wood and glass. "That used to be a cabinet. Could you help Braxton take it out to the cart in back?" The sullen archer grumbles, but does not protest, as he begins to shift the debris. Urist takes it on himself to start prying up the damaged floorboards. Everyone loses two stamina One progress marked in Physical Training Time passes (Time to explain training - there are five types of training, each associated with a subset of the available skills. Once the party has marked six progress in the matching type of training, they can buy skills of that type at a cost of one experience per skill, at any time. The trackers have been added to the second post, and once they fill up they will stay full and the party will keep the right to buy skills with XP for the rest of the campaign.) Eventually Braxton reports that the cart is full. "I'll get rid of it," she says. "Be right back." A) Offer to help Braxton dispose of the refuse B) Stay with Mariam and continue demolition
Dolash fucked around with this message at 22:55 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 22:24
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B. Smash stuff, I guess. This doesn't exactly seem like a choice crucial to the adventure.
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May 18, 2018 05:06
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"May as well get started on the next cartload," says Mariam, twirling her prybar dramatically, dropping it, snatching it back up, and smiling as if nothing happened. Together, she and Urist dismantle every soot-blackened surface of the back room. "You seem an able alchemist," Urist remarks. "Some of those concoctions during our altercation in the Eventide would be far beyond a novice. Where were you taught?" Mariam laughs. "I get that a lot. I think people think I'm too young to be an alchemist, but I've been learning since I was knee-high on a... on something not terribly tall because, hey, gnome." She tosses the most recent board out the back door and rests her prybar against the wall. "My father, he taught me. Lots of wanderer gnomes apprentice to family members, and my father says that he couldn't keep me out of his bottles and flasks, so he put me to work." "A respectable family trade, then," Urist agrees. Mariam pauses in her excited chatter to pour a fizzing liquid from a flask onto the floor. She then begins to scrub the area with a broom. Urist looks on with interest as the caked-on gunk simply dissolves, revealing not-too-damaged floorboards beneath. "I've been on my own for a few years now, ever since my father decided he'd taught me everything he could. Just traveling from town to tow, selling powders and potions wherever they're needed. My aunt reached out to me when she heard I'd finished my apprenticeship. She told me that Dragonolt could use a new apothecary, although she didn't tell me the last one had - uh - died quite so dramatically." Mariam leans on her broom, looking at the person-shaped silhouette on the wall. "Ah well, I would have come anyway. Having my own workshop is going to be great. It's hard to brew some of the more interesting stuff if you're constantly on the move." The gnome takes an uncharacteristically thoughtful moment to consider her dwarf visitor, dutifully scrubbing loose gunk from the floor. "I'm sorry, I never even asked your story! Are you a traveling alchemist too? Down from the mountains to see the world?" Urist looks up with mild surprise. "Oh, goodness no!" He withdraws a small snuffbox from a pouch and has a quick sniff of a grainy black powder. "I was exiled, naturally." Mariam blinks, caught off-guard, but before she can ask another question Braxton pokes her head in through the door. "We're back," she says. "I suppose we'd better load the cart back up; you've gotten a lot done in here." Minar follows behind the orc, sullen resignation settled over him like a cloud. They spend a few more hours tearing up the damaged pieces of the shop until their back aches and hands are sore. Braxton shows no obvious signs of wear, but Mariam's constant chatter eventually winds down to practically nothing, working in silence until every piece of broken or burned wood has been removed from the back room. The sun is well on its way down to the horizon by the time Mariam says "Alright, that's a good day's work I think. Let's go back to the Swan and get some dinner." Braxton's stomach rumbles and she nods. "Yes, let's." Mariam turns to her two helpers. "If you care to join us, I'm buying! It's the least I can do after your help today." She ops down from the shop and skips, humming, down the street. Braxton moves to follow her. "Buying dinner is quite easy when your aunt refuses to let ay of us pay for food." Urist is about to reply before Minar cuts in. "We'll have to catch up with you guys later. We need to touch base with the rest of our group, see what's going on." Braxton nods an affirmation and sets off after Mariam. "Well," announces Minar, once they're out of earshot. "That was a complete waste of time." "It never hurts to be courteous," sniffs Urist. Minar winces and rubs the small of his back. "I beg to differ." Time passes Everyone loses two stamina One progress in physical training A) Follow your instinct to the library B) Learn about the goblin infestation from the smithyC) 'Investigate' the Chatty Archer tavern
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May 18, 2018 17:15
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I love the idea of a loud Orc in a quiet library.  A
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May 18, 2018 18:53
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The village library is large for a village the size of Dragonholt. It features an antechamber, a main room with rows of bookshelves, and a few side rooms. On most days, one of the side rooms is used as a classroom for the village youths. The library's main hall features a tall writing desk underneath a window set in the ceiling and four walls covered in shelves full of books. Perched atop a stool at the writing desk is a grey-robed, grey-aired human woman spattered with ink, her quill scritching as she carefully copies out another letter. With the setting sunlight at her back, Urk creeps into the quit building. She notices the old woman hard at work at her writing desk and slips as carefully as she can over to examine the letter. The old librarian doesn't seem to notice her until the curious orc is by her elbow. "HELLO," Urk greets her. "HOW GOES?" The librarian yelps with a start and almost falls off her stool. After a moment's distress she collects herself. "The library is closing for the day! So, if you could just-" "URK NOT HERE FOR BOOKS TODAY," she casually waves toward the shelves in the back. "URK HAVE HUNCH." "W-what?" The librarian peers at Urk, baffled, before taking in her appearance and mannerisms with a critical eye. "You said your name was, er, Urk?" "NO. JUST URK." "Right," the librarian blows out a breath she may not have realized she was holding. "Come this way." She dismounts her stool and leads Urk through a low door to a tall, narrow room lit only by windows far above. "No candles or torches, please," she says. "A fire here would mean centuries of wisdom lost." She leads Urk around a long bookshelf, and she finds that the room was not narrow at all, only blocked off by the enormous shelf. Celyse is resting comfortably in a chair with a book on her lap. "Celyse," says the librarian. "I've brought company." "Urk! Thank the spirits you are here!" says Celyse, springing to her feet and narrowly rescuing the book before it falls to the floor. "Thank you," she says to the librarian, who nods and shuffles away, leaving Urk alone with Celyse. "WHEN ATHTAR SAY CELYSE WAS GONE, URK KNEW ONLY ONE PLACE TO LOOK." The orc's face splits into a toothy grin. "ELVES PREDICTABLE LIKE THAT." "I suppose I should be glad for your uncanny intuition," says Celyse, who returns the smile briefly before turning serious. "There is trouble afoot, and I am getting too old for trouble." Celyse doesn't look a day older than when Urk met her, but then again, she is an elf. "I believe that someone is plotting against the noble family here." "URK DID READ LETTER, YES." Celyse nods. "You might already know that the local lord is Lady Regina Fairfax, Countess of Dragonholt. She had, up until recently, three children: Sonia, Rochelle, and Phillip. Regina is sick; she seems a little young to me to be dying already, but humans will do that on you I suppose." "SORT OF INSENSITIVE BUT OKAY." "Her daughter Sonia was poised to inherit the county," Celyse continued. "But Sonia came to me and said she had received a letter from her uncle Kyric, Regina's brother. Kyric demanded that Sonia renounce her position and support Kyric's claim to Regina's seat. Sonia refused him, of course. "Days later, Sonia fell from her horse, struck her head on a rock, and died. Not suspicious on its own, perhaps, but Sonia is - was - an excellent rider. She was alone in the forest when it happened. I became concerned that Kyric had murdered her. I shared my suspicions with Tymothi, Regina's steward, and that night as I returned to my bedroom a heavy statue in the gallery toppled over and nearly killed me." Celyse closes her eyes and leans back, resting her head. "So I fled. I'd already sent the letter to Athtar asking him to assemble a party, so I hid in the village waiting." Celyse stands, brushing down her cloak and taking a deep breath. "But nothing unusual has happened since then and Phillip and Rochelle remain safe. It would seem the situation is not as dire as I had suspected. For now, I think it wise for you to acquaint yourself with the villagers and gain their trust. We will need them on our side if it comes to a struggle for leadership. But right now, I will go straight to Lady Regina and tell her everything. Will you come with me?" "WE SHOULD FIND OTHERS FIRST, SPREAD WORD YOU'RE OKAY. AT LEAST BRING ATHTAR, HE LIKES MEETING NOBLES." "A fair point." (This is a bit of a long post, so I've split it up here)
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May 18, 2018 20:43
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The pair left the library and briefly convened with Athtar and Aria on the village green. While Aria went to spread the news to the others that Celyse had been found, the elven knight joined the two women on their trip toward Fairfax Manor. A middle-aged woman n servant's livery opens the door for them with an expression of surprise. "I must speak with the countess at once, Mathilda," says Celyse. Mathilda only nods and ushers the party upstairs, where Regina's audience chamber lies in the manor's ancient round tower. The countess's enormous black throne is empty, but the countess is seated on a carpet by one hearth. She is a human woman of middling years with fair skin and enormous green eyes, almost luminescent in a face more lined by pain than by age. The countess has a round hoop in her lap, a piece of intricate needlework. "My lady," says Celyse. "Celyse," says Regina. "I had wondered if you had quit my service. Please, introduce us." Celyse bows and gestures to her two guests. "This is sir Athtar Ravaberos, a knight, and Urk, a... wisewoman." Athtar bows, while Urk simply smiles. "Old companions of mine from my time in Nerekhall." Regina inclines her head but makes no effort to rise. "What brings you to me today, my friend?" With many pauses to word her story as diplomatically as possible, Celyse shares the same suspicions with Regina that she had shared with Urk. As she speaks, a rail-tin man in a ruffled tunic slips into te room to stand silently at Regina's side. "Yes," says Regina at length. "Tymothi told me much of this the day you disappeared, was it, Tymothi?" She offers one hand to the man in the ruffled shirt, who helps her to her feet with perfect form. "Yes, m'lady. I was not sure what to make of Miss Celyse's suspicions, but I reported them dutifully." Regina crosses to her throne and sits with a sigh. She gestures to Tymothi and points to a writing desk against the wall. "Tymothi, the book in the drawer, there." He goes and fetches a slim leatherbound volume. "This is Sonia's journal. I have not read it; there are things that a mother should not know about her daughter, I think. But you must do, my friends. I do not want to believe that my brother would stoop to so reprehensible a crime as kinslaying. But I will not risk my children on my hope that Kyric is still the honorable man who stood aside for me when our father named me heir over him." She presses the book into Celyse's hand. "So. Please. Read it. Perhaps it contains some clue as to Sonia's fate, and perhaps you might prevent Rochelle and Phillip from falling prey to a similar doom." She waves a hand, and Tymothi rushes forward to shepard the group from the room. "Her ladyship tires easily these days," he says. "Thank you. We will speak again." Celyse frowns as she walks her companions to the door. "So Tymothi isn't the traitor after all. Or perhaps he's covering. Or perhaps there is no traitor, just rotten luck." She shakes her head and opens the door, before passing the book to Athtar. "Read that book and make it a point to get to know the locals. I will call upon you again when you are needed." "You may depend on us, my lady," says Athtar, bowing again. "Be safe." Two time passes A) Head back to the Swan for the night B) Check out the Drunken Hog C) Okay you just want to go to the Chatty Archer to get a drink, it's fine to admit it
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May 18, 2018 21:03
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C. Let's drink.
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May 19, 2018 22:09
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When Deepmind had proposed scouting the taverns that evening before bed, Aria had leapt at the chance to 'volunteer'. Minar had protested he was already worn out after a long day's unexpected work, and anyway, doubted the quality of any drink served in a backwater bar, but Aria had insisted, and that tends to work on the surly bowman. Besides, she'd said, they were both archers, they were practically obliged to check out a tavern named "The Chatty Archer." An archery butt lies under a maple tree outside this rustic lodge-style tavern. Several arrows are stuck within it, and others stand point-down in the earth by the tavern's polished pinewood door. A strung bow hangs over the door, nestled under the awning to protect it from the elements. Aria opens the door and steps into a warmly lit hall containing a smattering of oak tables and chairs. A long counter stretches the length of the left wall, bar stools in a row on one side and a shelf holding bottles of varying shapes, sizes and colors on the other. A tall human man with broad shoulders stands behind the counter polishing a mug. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing muscular arms. He looks up at the door as the pair enter and gives them a toothy grin and a friendly nod. "You new to Dragonholt?" asks the man behind the counter. "I don't reckon I've seen you before." He gives his mug a once over and sets it on a lower shelf with others like it. Then he slings the drying cloth over his shoulder and steps toward them. "The name's Hunter. I'm the owner of this here drinking hole." "A pleasure," Aria declares, bowing with a flourish. "Aria of Nerekhall at your service - musician, archer, adventurer, and more. And this is Minar." Minar grunts. "Hey." "Help yourself to a table or a stool," Hunter offers. "Thank you!" Aria hops on to one of the barstools and waves Minar over, who slumps in next to her. There are patrons at several of the tables - men and women enjoying food, drink, and banter. Others are sitting at the bar engaged in conversation with a human woman behind the counter. Beside them sits an elderly human man whittling a small wooden duck. "You look like the adventurous type. Me and my wife Lei used to do some adventuring before settling down and opening this place." Hunter gestures to the woman behind the counter. She smiles and waves. "Lei can fix you up something to eat if you're peckish. Just shout at us if you need anything at all." "Oh ho, adventuring, eh?" exclaims the older man sitting beside Aria. "I had myself many an adventure in my day. Spent much of my youth making day trips to Eventide Forest. Though back then it wasn't as dangerous as it is now." The old man blows on his whittled duck, removing excess wood shavings. "Is that right?" asks Hunter. "Tell us about it, Theo." The tavern owner sets a small bowl of nuts in front of the party as the older man begins to tell a story about climbing trees in the forest. Aria can tell immediately this story will last some time. Hunter leans over the counter to whisper to her. "Don't mind old Theodore. He just likes to tell his stories to anyone who'll listen. Can't tell if he forgets he's already told the stories or if he just likes telling them again." Theodore goes off on a long and winding story about his youth, playing in the village and on the edge of Eventide Forest. "The millpond, there, where the river flows out of the forest, was where we used to spend most of our time. We would catch frogs and then hide them where the girls would find them, just to watch them shriek." Theodore bursts out laughing, shaking his head. "There was one girl, though, Ursula, she never let our pranks frighten her. She gave as good as she got. Ah, I loved that girl, but I never could tell her that. I used to write her letters and love poetry, but I could never give them to her. I took them to the Tree of Tales instead, out in the forest, and asked the spirits to bring us together. One time I gave her a little wooden badger I'd carved, told her that it reminded me of her because she was fierce, too. I don't think she liked that! Let that be a lesson to you." and at this, Theodore turns his head to Minar. "If you're going to compare a girl to an animal, choose something more majestic than a badger. But that was the closest I ever got to telling her how I felt." Minar, his eyes glazed over, jumps with a start as Aria kicks his shin. Recovering quickly, he sparsd a confused look for Theodore before mumbling "Uh, right, I'll remember that." Theodore sighs. "That reminds me of a story..." The old adventurer goes on like this for a while, and Hunter seems content to leave him in Aria and Minar's care. Aria remains pleasant and attentive, but eventually decides to put Minar out of his misery and call it a night. "Well," says Minar as the two step out into the night, "at least there's two more taverns in town to try." "It wasn't that bad!" Aria protests, but half-heartedly. "Would've been good to pick up some actionable intel. Or a music gig." "Or a chance to shoot a few arrows," adds Minar, nodding toward the archery butts. "It lived up to the 'Chatty' part, at least." "Come on, maybe there's some dinner left at the Swan." Time passes (the end-of-the-day update will be up in a bit, then we'll start day two!)
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May 19, 2018 23:38
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Interlude Aria and Minar stroll into the common room of the Swan, emerging from the dark blanket of night behind them into cheery lamplight. Most patrons have already made their way to bed, but a few members of the party linger - Urist helps Sapphire clear the table from dinner, while Athtar sits in a cozy chair by a window, nose in a journal. They look up as the two humans enter and nod polite greetings. "There's leftovers if you're still a little hungry," offers Sapphire. "Not that I expect so after at night at the Chatty Archer, Lei and Hunter do a fine job between them." Minar mumbles his thanks and scoops up a half-finished loaf and some discarded cheese before retreating upstairs. "Sorry about him," Aria offers with a roll of her eyes. "'Long day', he says." "Oh, it's no bother," replies Sapphire, who quickly whips up a plate from what remains and slides it over to Aria. "Please, take your time! I'll leave something extra out for your friends once they get back, too." Aria takes the plate gratefully and wanders over to the chair opposite from Athtar, who stays glued to his book. "Reading diaries now, Ath?" The knight pulls a slightly sour look. "This journal belonged to Sonia, the deceased heir of Lady Fairfax. It's our only lead to discovering the danger threatening the Fairfaxes and who this 'Kyric' is, before it's too late." "Heavy." Aria gets to work building a sandwich from her scraps. "Have you shown it to Urk or Deepmind yet?" She sees the expression on his face and adds "I mean, they're pretty good at figuring out stuff like this." "They're still at the Drunken Hog. And anyway, we should all take the time to read it," Athtar thumbs the book open to where he left off.. "And come up with some sort of plan. I don't like sitting around waiting for danger to strike." Eventually, Urist wanders over, his pipe in hand. He begins to puff to life whatever unidentified substance he'd packed into it earlier and is soon wreathed in pungent smoke. He offers the pipe distractedly to his companions, who both wrinkle their nose at it, before shrugging and smothering it with his thumb. "I believe you mentioned something about Celyse asking us to win the trust of the villagers." Aria chuckled through a mouth full of food. "Is that why you've been washing up for Sapphire? Infiltrating the Swan, maybe?" Urist reddens slightly but continues. "I only mean that perhaps, if no immediate course presents itself, we could busy ourselves productively in town and see what we uncover. We're adventurers, are we not?" He waves vaguely into the darkness beyond the window. "We'll simply adventure our way forward." "We can work out the particulars in the morning," says Athtar, finishing the book and handing the slim volume to Aria. "In the meantime, see what you can glean and then pass it along. We'll compare notes." Aria takes the book a hint reluctantly. "You know, I became an adventurer to escape doing homework." Half of maximum stamina recovered Sonia's Journal      (No specific puzzle to solve this time, but feel free to pull out anything you think might be useful from the journal!)
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May 20, 2018 03:01
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Minar wakes up the next morning a bit later than usual, greeted again by the smell of freshly baked bread and seasoned meats. As he dresses, he can hear Mariam's voice above the other patrons coming from the common room. He steps out of the men's shared room and heads down to breakfast. Mariam, Braxton and Sapphire are sitting together as usual, with the rest of the party scattered around them. Minar notes the way Deepmind hides her eyes from the sunlight under her hood and the fresh marks on Urk's knuckles, and concludes their late-night scouting of the Drunken Hog was eventful. He takes a seat and serves up a plate of breakfast. Braxton has apparently asked Sapphire about the great oak in Eventide Forest. "Oh! You must be talking about the Tree of Tales," answers Sapphire. "That old oak has been there for centuries, according to the stories. The people of Dragonholt say that a benevolent spirit lives in the tree." Sapphire stops to take a drink of her tea before continuing. "There's a custom in Dragonholt to tell your tales to the spirit, whether spoken or written. They say you will be blessed with good fortune if the spirit is moved by your story. Some of the villagers have taken to leaving gifts for the spirit as well, in hopes of gaining its admiration, I suppose." "Fascinating!" says Braxton. Minar strains to keep from rolling his eyes. Local superstitions. Mariam frantically scribbles something on a piecce of parchment and pockets it. When Braxton looks at her curiously, Mariam says, "Just making a note to myself." Braxton raises an eyebrow, and an almost imperceptible grin crosses Sapphire's lips. Aria perks up on overhearing the story. "Hey, old Theodore told us a story about the Tree of Tales last night at the Chatty Archer. Something about a badger, I think." "MHM," mutters Urk, who sets to fishing about in her pouches. "THIS BADGER?" She withdraws the small wooden token she found in the Eventide Forest. "Oh my," breathes Sapphire. "May I?" She carefully lifts the trinket, examining the craftsmanship. She turns it over in her hand and giggles when she sees the letters etched into the wood. "As I thought," she says as she returns the trinket. "This is most certainly carved by Theodore. You said you met him? He's very kind, lived in the village all his life. Theo opened the woodworking shop in the market when he was a young man, but he's been retired for a wile now. He comes by the Swan for breakfast or lunch on occasion, but he spends most of his time at the Chatty Archer or in the market. Even after retiring he's still whittling every day." The bell signals someone entering the Swan, and Sapphire stands. "I'm sure Theo will be happy to see that particular piece again," she says before running off to greet the new patron. Mariam and Braxton were son off as well, leaving just the party gathered around the remains of breakfast. "So," says Athtar, spreading his hands wide. "What did you think of the journal?" "What journal?" Minar asks, and he sees Aria cringe. She turns to the elf and explains. "Uh, he was already asleep. And Iiiii..." she looks away, clearly embarrassed "didn't read it?" "I was going to read it," Urist assures. "But I'm afraid by the time I got around to it, some of the more powerful medicinal effects of my pre-bed tea had already kicked in, and the pages wouldn't stop spinning of their own accord." "Can't read," mutters Deepmind. "Too hungover." "URK, OBVIOUSLY, ALSO DID NOT READ BOOK." Athtar sighs, in obvious defeat. "Never mind. We'll discuss it later, right now we need to come up with a plan. I don't have any more leads on this danger to the Fairfaxes, but Celyse urged us to win the villagers' trust and see what we can turn up. How do we start with that?" A) Go to the smithy and inquire about the goblin infestation B) Go to the market and find Theodore to ask about the trinket C) Go to the manor to confer with Celyse and the Fairfaxes
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May 20, 2018 06:43
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A Goblin infestation? 
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May 20, 2018 15:44
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At the end of the market row stands a low building with a grey slate roof and a thick chimney: the smithy. The workshop portion of the building sports clapboard walls, easily opened to let in cooler air when the furnace is in use, while a brownstone annex hosts what you presume are living quarters, offices, storage, and other necessities of the smith's trade. A polished silver hammer hangs from a wrought-iron signpost outside the front door, inscribed with Dunwarr characters. A bronze plaque is set into the wall, with the same legend written in the common tongue: Fiore Brightmaul, Smith. A hot wind blows around Deepmind, ruffling her fur as she ducks into the workshop, followed closely by the characteristically-distracted Urist. She hadn't brought the alchemist for protection, despite her insistence on traveling in pairs, but perhaps as a fellow Dunwarr dwarf he might provide some insight or rapport with the one they're looking to meet. The roar of the furnace is punctuated by loud clanging and the in-and-out breathing of the bellows. The young dwarf man on the bellows pauses in his exertions, mopping his brow with a rag and staring at the short Hyrrnyx with frank curiosity. The clanging continues for a few moments more until the smith puts down her hammer and leans back on her padded stool. "What is it, Bryll?" she calls. The apprentice on the bellows points in the newcomers' direction, and the smith twists to glance at them. "Ah," she says. "New customers. Come closer and let me have a look." She lifts a glowing-hot piece of metal from her anvil with the aid of sturdy tongs and plunges it into a bucket of water at her side, then pulls it back out and sets the quenched work in progress aside. The smith is a sturdily built woman, simply dressed in a light white shirt and heavy leather smock. Her auburn hair is pulled back from her face in a tight bun, and her only ornament is a bright silver necklace around her neck with a subtle purple sheen. "Fiore Brightmaul," she says as they approach. "Hand me my crutch, will you?" Deepmind finds a wooden crutch with a padded grip close by and offers it to her. She takes it, situates it under her left shoulder, and swings herself on one good leg over to the edge of the workshop, away from the heat. Her right leg moves stiffly at her side. "I know what you're thinking," she says. "I must have some great story of battling a troll to a standstill to go with my injury. But I'm sad to say I was born like this. Sorry to disappoint." She settles onto a carved wooden chair and lays her crutch to the side. "Welcome to my smithy. My apprentices and I can handle any work you need, or perhaps you'd like to browse my stock. I assure you, we Brightmauls are the finest smiths south of the Dunwarr mountains." She grins and leans forward, conspiratorially. "And frankly, I'm better than most of those overproud duffers, too." Urist gives a chuckle at that, and Fiore directs their attention to her stockroom, which is directly adjoining the workshop and filled with useful items - trivets and nails and horseshoes, of course, but also swords, daggers, coats of mail, a vicious-looking warhammer, and a wide selection of other implements of the adventuring trade. "Or I'm available for special commissions, of course," she adds, idly fondling her silver necklace. "Well, Bozarth is. He's a journeyman; his rates are much more affordable than mine," she laughs. "Actually," Deepmind pipes up at last. "We came here about your notice at the village hall. Something about goblins?" Fiore gives Deepmind an appraising, slightly doubting look, but begins. "There's a silver mine, south of here past the willow grove. I'd like to get it re-opened, but there's a small goblin problem. You wouldn't know any adventuring heroes who have some free time, would you?" "That's us," she replies coolly. "And a few of our associates." Requires 3 Fame - which we have Fiore looks them up and down before she rummages through a shelf full of old papers and forgotten work requests. She crosses to a large table and unrolls an old map, yellowed with age, and delicately places weights on the sides. "This is a map of the silver mine," she says. "It's said to be the richest in the region. But it was abandoned during the war when all the workers were pressed into military service." Deepmind nods, absorbing the information, and Fiore continues. "After the war, we discovered goblins had taken to living in the mines. With so many of our workers killed or injured during the war, we didn't have the forces to evict the squatters immediately. Now there are so many of them, there's not much we can do." "Sounds straightforward," says Deepmind. "What else do we need to know?" "Here's where the rooster becomes the cockatrice," she sighs. "We had the area scouted. The scout said there's one goblin who seems to be leading the others - a great big one too." She gestures to the main entrance to the mines. "The goblins have fortified the main path, but here" - she points to an emergency access tunnel - is well concealed. If the goblins know about it, they seem to give it only minimal attention. That's your route in." Deepmind looks at the map, casting her eye along the twisting passages. The mine is a model of efficiency, with the vast majority of the mine dedicated to work, and only a few rooms set aside for alternate purposes. Two rooms catch her eye: the "pipeworks" and the "blastworks". "What are the pipeworks?" she asks, tapping that point of the map. "When the mine was originally dug, the richest veins of ore intersected with a large underground river, which kept the tunnels submerged. The mining engineers used a series of waterwheels and Dunwarr water screws to pull water from the lower levels up and out of the mine. "The pipeworks itself are a double safety system," continues Fiore. "But the backup is down here, at the emergency dam. With how long the mine has been abandoned, the dam is likely holding back an entire river. That is, if it hasn't collapsed and flooded the heart of the mine. In any case, if the pipeworks aren't already running when you get down there, you should activate them if you can." "And the blastworks?" asks Urist, belatedly tuning in to the discussion at the mention of water screws. "Those are areas meant for storing and mixing blasting powder - an alchemical compound that was used to excavate large areas of solid rock. I know rooms like that had a fair number of safety features in place to keep the contents as stable as possible, but you never know how well something like that really works. Well, possibly one well trained in the alchemical arts might know, but I couldn't say for sure. The one thing I can tell you for certain." She stares at Deepmind, dead serious." Leave. Your lantern. Outside the room." She holds that piercing stare a few moments. "Follow the southern road out of the village past the willow grove," she continues. "If you stay on that road, you can't miss the mine. And one last thing." She looks at Deepmind seriously. "The mine has been abandoned for years, and I highly doubt the goblins have been improving things. Take care while you're down there and consider your actions well. It's a very unstable environment." Fiore sighs. "But remember: we want the mine whole. It would cost the county a fortune to excavate the tunnels again. We'll pay you part of the reward up front to cover expenses." She drops a heavy pouch of coins on the table. The party gains 50 gold "Deal," says Deepmind, quickly sweeping up the bag of coins and secreting it within her jacket. "One silver mine, coming right up." "You'll get the rest of the reward after you've reclaimed our mine," says Fiore with a laugh. She claps Deepmind firmly on the back, almost bowling the smaller woman over. "Don't let us down, eh?" Time passes A) Gather the party and head to the goblin-infested silver mine B) Find Theodore at the market to show him the wooden trinket C) Visit Fairfax Manor to convene with Celyse and the Fairfaxes
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May 20, 2018 22:21
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I think we should grab a little more plot while we're at it and chat with Celyse. If I'd picked A though: "You must gAther your party before venturing forth." 
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May 21, 2018 02:18
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Athtar and Minar make their way up the drive toward the front door of Fairfax Manor, the knight leading the way and the wildlander slouching in his wake, as usual. "You know," Athtar remarks with a glance over his shoulder, "you don't have to come with me if you feel so strongly opposed to the idea." "Then I'll just get roped into some other chore by somebody else," Minar mutters. "Least country nobles are mostly quiet. Besides, I should probably say hi to Celyse. And the lunch could be good." Athtar shrugs and puts his companion's reluctance out of his mind. The serving girl - Mathilda - comes out to greet them. "Miss Celyse is tutoring young Lord Phillip at the moment. I can show you to her if you wish." "Please, lead the way," says Athtar with a gracious nod. Mathilda leads them up a spiral stair to the left and through a well-appointed salon. They hear quiet voices through the double door at the back of the room, and Mathilda knocks softly. "Miss Celyse," she says. "You have company." At a muffled call of "Come in," the serving girl opens the door and steps aside to let them pass. Through the doors they find a somewhat chaotically decorated space. There's a pair of long writing desks under the windows. A long chaise and cushioned chair lie arranged beneath a bookcase filled more with oddments than books: a fleshless deer skull, a large glimmering rock, a crudely fashioned wooden horse, a colourful assortment of feathers, books ranging from children's primers to classical poets, and a dozen other treasures of more sentimental than monetary value. An easel stands in one corner, its canvas a muddy mess of color. At a table near the center of the room sits Celyse, rising to greet Athtar and Minar, and a startled-looking young man they take to be Phillip. "Welcome," says Celyse with a smile. May I introduce Phillip, Regina's youngest child?" Phillip stands and bobs is head. "How do you do?" He has light-brown skin, soft black hair, and green eyes set in a delicately featured face. He smiles shyly, then stands uncertain of what to do next. "And Rochelle, the countess's daughter and heir," says Celyse, turning to indicate a young woman slumped in a chair by the window, a book across her lap. "Rochelle, we have company. Please rise." "Oh," says Rochelle, shooting to her feet. "Hello, so good to meet you." She offers a stiff bow, then rolls her eyes and grabs hold of both edges of her dress to drop into a proper curtsy. She is both taller than her brother and broader in the shoulder, with curly brown hair, but she shares his green eyes, light brown skin, and delicacy of face. "I'm sorry, I bungled the courtesies again, Celyse, didn't I?" "You did just fine, dear," says Celyse. "A curtsy or a bow is usually sufficient; no need for both." Se turns to the serving girl and nods her head. "Thank you, Mathilda. That will be all." "It is an honor to meet you both," says Athtar, executing a perfect formal bow. For his part, Minar shuffles awkwardly from food to foot before saying "Uh, yeah, ditto." "We were just in the middle of our studies for the day," says Celyse. "Phillip was explaining the Council of Barons and the rules surrounding its operations, and Rochelle was reading -" Celyse bends down and picks up the broad folio that Rochelle dropped in her haste. "-a fencing manual. Really, Rochelle?" Rochelle grins and shrugs. "You told me to improve my mind. Aren't you the one who told me battles are won as much with the mind as the body?" "Keep practicing that rhetoric, my dear, and perhaps one day it will be as fast as your sword." Phillip steps toward Athtar. "Excuse me. You were with Celyse at Nerekhall, weren't you? Please, would you tell me the story? She keeps promising she will but never does." Athtar grimaces slightly at the memory and Celyse cuts in. "That's enough, Master Phillip. It's time to resume your studies. Rochelle, you are plainly bored out of your wits. Please find someplace else to be before you distract your brother." "Probably time for my daily practice anyway," Rochelle agrees, bowing to their guests again before stepping through the side door. Celyse turns to Athtar and Minar. "My friends are always welcome to join our studies, of course," she says. "You are too kind." Athtar's face breaks slowly into a wry grin. "However, I admit I would be interested to see how the Fairfax heir handles a sword. If you believe Rochelle would not mind...?" Celyse rolls her eyes, but smiles as she does so. "I should've guessed the thought of swordplay would distract you too. Very well, I have no doubt Rochelle would appreciate an audience. Best of luck with our... other matter." Athtar nods in acknowledgement before departing, trailing Minar. They pass through the same door after Rochelle and find themselves in a long, open salle, its floor laid with smooth, polished wood and marked with white paint in lanes and circles. A number of wood and leather mannequins stand in the corners, some marked with bright colors at critical junctions of throat, groin and joints. Racks of wooden weapons stand against one wall. Rochelle is nowhere to be seen at first, but as they explore the space and slide their feet along the slightly springy floor, she emerges from a back door dressed in padded doublet, hose, tall boots and long gloves. "Oh," she says, crossing to one rack and removing a wooden longsword. "I have a sparring partner today, I see." She nods to the rack and pulls up her enthusiastic curls, tying them off before cramming an arming cap down over her head. "Uh, should you really be brawling with our employer's daughter?" mutters Minar to Athtar, but the elf ignores him. Athtar draws a wooden sword of his own and dons a matching cap before taking up a position opposite Rochelle. Minar shrugs. "Oh well." "On your guard!" she calls, then rushes forward with her sword held in a classic fending grip, and battle (or something like it) is joined. Minar yells encouragement and taunts from the sidelines, supporting both combatants against the other. They lose track of time with the constant back and forth, thrust and parry, and circling footwork. Rochelle introduces Athtar to the classic fencing lanes painted on her floor, as well as the circles of defense, shifting between various drills and methods of sparring with ease. After some time, Minar realizes Celyse is at his side, watching the battle with an amused smirk. The quieting of his jeers draws Rochelle and Athtar's attention, who lower their swords. "I guess time flies when you're having fun," Rochelle admits. "It was an honor," says Athtar, yielding his sword. "Would that we had more time, but the rest of our party awaits our return." "That's enough studying for today, anyway." Celyse nods to Rochelle and Phillip, who had followed her in. "Phillip, good work today. Rochelle, thank you for indulging me earlier." "You are still my tutor," says Rochelle. "Even if I'm not a child anymore." "I'm not either," says Phillip. "Keep telling yourself that, Sprout," says Rochelle. Phillip sticks his tongue out at his sister. She puts her thumb against her nose and blows a raspberry. For the moment, they both seem impossibly young. There's a pause, as if both children are thinking of something else. Then Phillip bows to the room. "I must take my leave. It was good to meet you both." "Likewise, kid," Minar mumbles awkwardly. "Where are you headed?" asks Rochelle, untying her doublet and following Phillip out of the room. "Shall I come with you?" "Talbot's already got the horses saddled, 'Chelle. I don't need a wet nurse." Both siblings clatter down the stairs, leaving the visitors with Celyse. "We must return to our work," says Athtar with a sigh. "Perhaps we'll have more time to catch up later." "I was kind of hoping we'd get lunch first," Minar wonders aloud, a faint note of hope in his voice before abandoning the prospect. "But I guess we're too busy." "Another time," Celyse assures him. "Thank you for your visit today, and good luck." One progress in combat training Time passes A) Gather your party and venture forth to the silver mine to deal with the goblins B) Go see Theodore at the market about his wooden trinket C) Read Sonia's journal out on the village green
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May 21, 2018 19:31
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We should boldly venture forth. We'll get some street cred and coin for doing it
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May 23, 2018 04:48
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Once Minar and Athtar were reunited with the rest of the party, Deepmind shared the news about Fiore's quest for the silver mine. Having no immediate leads on their main objective and mindful of Celyse's advice to earn the villagers' trust, they resolved on the spot to give it a try. The road leading south out of the village splits around a large grove of willow and oak trees. The villagers seem to treat the grove as a sort of park or meeting spot. There are almost always children playing among the trees or families enjoying the sun and the breeze. As the party approaches the willow grove it seems that Braxton is sitting alone on a thick wool blanket beside a covered basket, but as they draw closer they see that Mariam is sitting tucked up against her, cutting an apple into segments with a pen knife. Braxton leans down and murmurs something in Mariam's ear, and the gnome laughs and crams an apple slice into Braxton's mouth. Braxton chews happily, enfolding Mariam in one arm and squeezing gently. "Awww," says Aria softly, glancing to Minar, who despite himself gives a small smile. "Come on," Deepmind mutters brusquely, "it's still a long walk to the mine, let's-" "HEY!" all heads snap to Urk, waving blithely at the small picnic. "MARIAM! BRAXTON! IT URK!" Braxton noitces and waves the party over. Urk strolls casually toward the invitation, and a moment later Athtar and Urist follow. Aria's look sours and Deepmind gives a heavy sigh, but the rest of the party eventually catches up so that they're all sitting at the edge of the blanket. "Oh!" exclaims Mariam, reddening slightly. She shifts away from Braxton, not making eye contact. "Mariam prepared enough food for a small army," teases Braxton. "Your presence is a bit of a godsend. There's no way I could eat this all myself." "IF BRAXTON INSISTS," says Urk, who had already begun building a plate of lunch uninvited. "Oh, of course, right, sure, have a seat," babbles Mariam, to visible wincing from Aria. "Here, have a sandwich." She hands a sandwich distractedly to Athtar, who nods politely in thanks. "Gnomish invention, nothing like it for eating on the go, or a picnic like this." "Did gnomes really invent the sandwich?" Urist credulously whispers to Minar, who stares flatly at him for a few moments. The party regain two stamina each Braxton eats quickly, a small smile sparkling in her eyes. Mariam is all bouncing energy, alternating between forcing some new choice food on someone and peppering the party with high-velocity questions, only occasionally pausing for an answer. "Nice weather, isn't it? I love summer. It's my favorite season, except for autumn. And spring. And winter is nice, too. Do you have a favorite season? Is it too hot out here? Would you like an apple? It pairs nicely with the cheese." Aria lets out a pained groan, prompting a confused look from Athtar. Urk, a whole apple in her mouth, takes the cheese politely before shearing the fruit in half with her fangs. "Don't forget to eat, Mariam," chides Braxton. Mariam snaps her mouth shut and turns an alarming shade of red. "So," says Deepmind, grasping desperately at small talk. "How are you ladies finding Dragonholt?" They look at each other, as if trying to find the correct answer. "The shop was a mess, of course," begins Mariam. "Much worse than I expected. But Aunt Sapphire was right about the people. They're a good sort here, I think. And the town is prosperous in its modest way." "I find the village entirely pleasant," says Braxton. "There are even some other orcs here. Not so much staring as I'm used to. I think I could stay, at least for a few years." "I hope so," says Mariam, "I mean, I'm glad you like it here. Hate to think I dragged you all this way and you'd be miserable, hahaha." She breaks into an uncharacteristically nervous laugh, then grabs a clay cup and takes a long drink of what smells like a light wine. After finishing off the cup, she holds up a wedge of cheese on a cutting board. "Try the cheese." "THANKS," says Urk, casually lifting the whole wedge off the board. Minar glances with concern at Aria, who's buried her face in her hands at this point. With the party's help, they manage to eat most of the food Mariam packed, and at length the gnome pops back to her feet. "Enough lollygagging!" she says. We have to get back to the shop and get back to work." Cleaning up the picnic takes no time at all, and after goodbyes the party is back on the road south out of the willow grove. As soon as the group is out of sight of Braxton and Mariam, Aria punches Urk in the shoulder, albeit to very little effect. "What the hell, Urk?" "Did I miss something?" says Athtar, his brow furrowing. Minar suppresses a snort of laughter, barely, and Urk just shrugs. "URK SAW PICNIC. AGED STILTON? URK NOT ABOVE MINOR SOCIAL FAUX-PAS." "Can we focus on the whole goblin mine thing?" Deepmind snaps, before sighing. "Come on." The party meanders down the trail. The road, if a wagon track that is simply two ruts running through the grass can be called that, runs south out of Dragonolt and marches past the mill, visible in the distance as a leaning stone tower. Beyond the mill, hills pile atop one another, purpling with distance as they reach toward the sky. Beginning the questbook Sliver of Silver (On a personal note, thank you for managing to trigger that very brief, minor event that only happens if you go to the Willow Grove at exactly this time on exactly this day, it's a favourite.)
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May 23, 2018 06:29
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Sliver of Silver The party treks south away from the willow grove and Dragonholt. After an hour hike, they make their way down into a rocky fissure that branches away from the main road. The path soon lead over a stone bridge that crosses an underground river. A few buildings stand before the mine's entrance in various states of disrepair. The mine's main entrance is blocked by a makeshift set of double doors barred from the inside by a heavy wooden beam. "Based on the map Fiore showed us," says Deepmind to the others, "we should be able to follow the river's edge to the emergency access tunnel." "Assuming it isn't blocked up, or trapped, or a hundred other things," Minar mutters. "If so," says Athtar, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword, "we can always fight our way through. Goblins are craven, they won't stand a determined assault." Nobody contradicts him, but nobody seems all that determined to charge headlong into the teeth of a goblin horde either. The party sticks to the plan and follows the river to a ticket of brambles. Sliding between the rock face of the ravine and the hazardous thorns, they come across the concealed tunnel - a narrow and dark passage that falls deep into the stone. Unprompted, Urist extracts an odd-looking oil lamp of his own design and lights it, illuminating a rough climb down into darkness. "Follow my lead," Athtar says, dropping down first into the narrow space. The passage twists along - rough walls speaking clearly of its emergency nature - and the party picks their way along gingerly. Finally, they come to the point where the passage joins a main hallway, though the opening between the two passages is no more than a gap in the rock beside a wooden support beam. Athtar is about to squeeze through when Deepmind grabs his elbow from behind. "Listen!" she hisses, and the elf pauses. The footsteps and voices of two goblins, idly jabbering with one another as they patrol nearby. A) Ambush the patrolling goblins (this option will not exhaust activation) B) Hide until the patrol has passed by(A reminder that activation rules are in effect again while on an adventure)
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May 23, 2018 06:46
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| # ? May 6, 2024 17:21 |
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Hide from this set; no sense tipping our hand too early.
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May 23, 2018 14:49
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