OOC - the will-4 rolls first.  I did them as Secret Rolls so the others can't see what might be going on, thought it was appropriate.

13:39, Today: Secret Roll: Runt rolled 9 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,1,5.  name will-4.

13:39, Today: Secret Roll: Runt rolled 14 using 3d6 with rolls of 4,4,6.  spell will-4.

13:38, Today: Secret Roll: Runt rolled 14 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,6,5.  talk will-4.

Runt had a hard time clearing his mind, at least at first.  Whatever Norla was doing seemed to help though.  It seemed sort of like those occasional nights when a big fog came up off the river and filled Craine, it was hard to see and hear but this was even more.  It was like his mind was filled with fog also.  The only times he had felt like this was when he had been in a few of the really seedy taverns and some of the denizens had been smoking stuff that wasn't tobacco.

He was so relaxed, his fears had shrunk to insignificance, so when Norla asked her series of questions there was no reason for him to not answer truthfully.  He trusted her!  He wanted to please her!

"I don't know right where they be.  When I snuck come back an snuck away they was all on the road back to Three Corners.  I ain't got no idea ifin they be coming back.
 Don't think Master Rudyard an the rest of the captives gonna come back, but the others might be.  But they not ask me bout that stuff an nobody talk bout it when I was around.  Iffin I knowed they was gonna come back I probably would'av wait for them."

He smiled in the direction where he thought Norla was, or at least he thought he smiled.

OOC - WOW, you've really thrown a hard one at me here, but it's very interesting and I really will try my best to do a good job.  With his Quirk of "naive (mild gullibility)"
 the exact questions she asks will be important and how she asks them.  If she keeps up like she has been going it probably won't raise any suspicions.  Though maybe later after the Charm has worn off, he might start wondering.  Though he does know from what Maccus said that Mendel is the one who took the captives somewhere up north to sell them.  Plus, what Mendel said when Ashe took him into this room tells Runt that at least some of the people in this group are involved the slave trade with the captives.  This is going to be very interesting!  I did glance back and I'm pretty sure that discussion of going back to explore more of the Caves of Chaos was not in Runt's hearing.

On a slightly different subject, don't forget that Runt did tell Rolf and Gustav where Maccus said the animals were kept and where the body pit was.

Runt answered Norla's questions.  Or at least he felt like he did.  It was his voice for certain, though he couldn't really remember saying them, they just sort of tumbled out of his mouth without effort, which Runt supposed saved him the trouble of having to come up with the words himself.

But Norla didn't stop there.  She asked some of the same questions she already had over again, which seemed like a waste of time to Runt.  She asked what had happened as they went through the canyons, and exactly what had happened in Niall's cave.  Her voice piqued immediately after Runt's recalling of the two men that fled from the cave, each one that Runt had tripped and sent sprawling down to the bottom of the slope...  She asked about Magnus and about Rolf, what spells she had seen from Rolf and what else had he talked about with his magic.  She asked about Mitra too, about why Runt called her a princess, about where she was from, who she had talked about from home, and about how she practiced her religion.  Norla seemed far more interested in Mitra than she was in the others.  Runt answered all of Norla's questions in earnest, and eventually, the woman seemed satisfied with his answers.

"Hugh, are you still out there?"  Norla asks, her voice the one thing that seemed to break through the fog that was still encasing Runt's mind.  "Fetch Ashe, and a few others.  It sounds like Elkins is the only one left alive, but I want a group to go over and make sure.  The mercenaries from the village won't be back soon, but the longer we wait the more likely it is they'll show up.  Clean up and dispose of the dead and take whatever we can use...  And let Mendel know he needs to take whatever he can from storage now.  If those fools come back I'm not spending any manpower to protect it...  And send a message to Leo.  This changes nothing, but there's no doubt accelerates our plans and he needs to be prepared..."

Norla hesitates for a moment, to the point where Runt can hear the echoing of footsteps, but Norla adds at the last in a deathly quiet tone...  "And bring Elkins to me..."

"Come Runt."

And the two are walking.

Eight paces and a turn to the right, ten paces and a turn to the right, twenty paces and a half turn right...  without even meaning to, Runt count his way as he walks, creating a mental map in his head of his footsteps despite the fact that the fog obscures nearly everything.  Ten paces, half turn left, ten paces...  stop.

Norla leaves Runt's hand for several moments, though Runt can hear her footsteps echoing about as he stands there, unseeing.

"You wanted to see me miss Norla?"  The voice projects through the fuzziness, though Runt can tell the words are trembling... laced with fear.

"Yes..."  Norla's voice projects from somewhere near.  Though she still speaks in low tones, Runt cannot help but notice a hard edged hiss has replaced her soft and gentle tones from before.

A moment passes and Runt feels Norla's fingers interlaced again with his own.

"You see."  Norla begins, "It seems that there were not twenty men who stormed your stronghold but three."  The last word is spat like acid.  "Three men, a beast, a heathen and a boy."

"I wonder..."  Norla's soft voice begins to resonate louder and sharper, carrying with it all the sting of a whip.  "Did you flee so fast you did not have time to count them all?  Or perhaps you were so drugged on your hashish that you were seeing in double and triple?"

Norla's voice stops.  Runt waits for some sort of response, though none seems to come.

"Dolor!"  Norla shouts, and several things seem to happen all at once.

Norla grips Runt's hand ever tighter as Runt feels a slight pull, his arm extending slightly ahead.  A meaty smack! reverberates from a few steps ahead of Runt.  Runt's knees sag, his body heaving with a sudden effort despite the fact that he isn't moving at all!  He gulps in heavy breaths, the unexpected exertion having taken him by surprise.

And finally, a man's scream.  The kind that made Runt pull his blanket over his head when he was sleeping rough on the streets of Craine...

"Get up.  And get out!"  Norla shouts, as Runt can hear the scrabbling movements of a man his hands a feet to retire as quickly as he can.  "Find Hugh and take care of the bodies of your friends...  You had better work twice as hard as everyone else or else you'll find yourself the last one going in the pit!"

Runt hears the heaving breaths of Norla, the grip of their hands now slightly clammy with sweat.  A moment passes, the woman reverses her grip on Runt's hand and he can feel her kneeling down in front of him.

"Congratulations Runt."  The woman's gorgeous smile swims into view a foot or so from Runt's own, her pure blue eyes wide and piercing.  "You've just cast your fist spell."

She pauses, waiting for some sort of reaction, though her smile fades after a moment of thought.  "We really will have to do something about that name, won't we?  So demeaning!  Perhaps we should call you Daniel, would you like that?  Do you know the story of Daniel and the lion's den?  If not you should learn it child...  It's quite appropriate for your situation.  You must pray Daniel...  pray for your deliverance."

OOC:  Ok, a lot to work though here.  Sorry if I gave you the impression I needed you to answer all the questions, I was really just trying to make sure you didn't resist her there.  I didn't really feel the interrogation was that important in the specifics, just the generalities of if told her what you knew.  Don't worry that you spilled any beans in particular, I don't think there's any single fact that would break the story in one direction or the other.

Feel free to go back and use your passive resistance through the last post.  If you want to "see" more of where you are walking, go ahead and make a will roll and I'll add the results to a map that I'll post up later of your total experience.  Again, your photographic memory and absolute direction are going to help you immensely here.

I'm planning on fast forwarding quite a bit again after this, so if there is any clean up we need to do, please mention it in this post.

Again, Runt answered all of Norla's questions as best as he knew.  Even the questions that he had already answered.  The thought wandered through his mind that adults must be really forgetful.  This wasn't the first time today that people asked him to repeat himself.  Adults, he thought, rolling his eyes in exasperation, or at least he thought he rolled his eyes.

When she called Hugh in and gave him orders, some suspicion began to creep into his mind.  It almost seemed like she was in charge, even over Mendel who he had thought was the boss of this gang.  But that would mean that she was in charge of the bandits here.  But he dismissed that thought, though it remained niggling in a small way at the back of his mind, a small kernel.

He went along with her with no resistance, at least she wasn't dragging him like Ashe had.  He still kept up with where he was going, another one of those things that just happened and made him an unerring guide in Craine, even in the dark.  When they stopped and she began to speak at another person in a tone that became sharp and harsher as she continued, a bit of fear crept into his mind.  I wouldn't want her mad at me, he thought.

When whatever happened that caused Elkins (that's who he figured it was) to scream in anguish and pain, he suddenly felt exhausted, like he had run all out back and forth across Craine without stopping.

Norla's announcement that he had cast his first spell filled him with excitement, though he had no idea what he had done or how to do it again.  But that didn't really matter.  I made a spell!

Her changing his name to Daniel bothered him a little, but if it made her happy then he wouldn't argue.  "Princess Mitra said she was going to name me Zilun Saghir and said it was Little Shadow in her tongue," he volunteered.  It seemed appropriate for him to get that out there.  He did wonder if it was a woman thing to give people new names and if so, how many he might get.

OOC - No problem on answering all the questions.  It was fun to try and figure out what he knew/thought as opposed to player knowledge.  Some brain work for me, LOL.  His reasons to call Sajaa Princess Mitra were 1) her new but well-made armor, her very nice obviously expensive sword, and Gustav addressed her as Princess at one point.
 He missed the sarcasm there.  He was still unconscious when she confessed her true identity to everyone else.  Magnus is Sir Magnus because Sajaa addressed him that way at least twice and Lord Magnus twice also.  Also, Magnus has that very fancy and expensive helm (at least expensive to Runt).  And a huge scary looking mace, so big that Runt didn't think he could even lift it.  He would also probably mention the wolves that somehow kept showing up, but he had no clue how.  As for Rolf's spells he saw cast, the only ones I can remember when he was paying attention were Continual Light, a couple of Healings, and Flight.  There may have been others, but either things were a bit chaotic, or he just wasn't paying attention, or there wasn't any noticeable effect to him.

If I followed the directions you gave correctly, they went west up the wide sloping corridor, then north then northeast then north to the big room (58 on my map) and that was where Elkins got disciplined.  I'm guessing that Norla used Steal Energy on Runt to power whatever she did to Elkins.

And yes, a kernel of suspicion has been planted in Runt's mind, but I didn't think it was quite enough to allow him to resist the Charm.  But it is there now.

This is a lot of fun!  I'm really enjoying it.  Not exactly the turn I thought even this section was going to take.  I can't wait to see where it goes from here!

Oh, and just a thought, but I would not at all mind for Judoc to have access to this thread.
 I really respect his opinion and would like to hear his thoughts.  He had at one point wondered about seeing Runt's sheet, but I forgot to ask you if that was kosher.  I'm sure we can keep our conversations private from the others, though sometime down the road I would like them to be able to see this thread, but not any time soon.  I think they do need to be kept in the dark as to Runt's fate, for now.

Lots of fun!  Boy, this was a difficult post to write, but I enjoyed it!

OOC - Forgot to add this, but fast-forwarding is fine with me.  One thing though, Runt will not forget about burying Conal's body.  That could be a sticking point.  Same for his stuff.  I know that it is almost all practically worthless junk, but not to him.  Either/both of those could be triggers for him to resist the Charm.

"Yes."  Norla responds to Runt's comment, holding his gaze for just a few more moments.  "I don't suppose that's surprising, is it?  But we're done with the shadows Daniel.  If you are to become a true man, you must embrace the light and shun the darkness, seize the truth and cast off lies, gather among your peoples and banish those who are unworthy."

Norla stands, and again Runt finds himself enveloped in the hazy fog, though Norla's voice continues to speak to him even as her footsteps recede away.

"You have much to learn Daniel, though you have the spark of hope and truth that seems to grow from your core."

Unsure of what else to do, or where else to go, Runt stands where he is, aware of the passing of time but immune to the boredom that normally comes with it.  He hears the sounds of footsteps, both heavy and light.  Occasionally, he hears voices, sometimes hushed and at other times not.  Norla never seems to quiet herself, though answers in a brisk and authoritative tone.  Only Rarely does Runt understand what anyone is talking about.

"Tishpak."  Norla says after a time.  "Take the boy to the old cell and shut him in, we may have need of him yet, but for now he's served his purpose.  You shouldn't need worry about him, but keep an eye out all the same?"

A man says something, but Runt is more focused on Norla as again her beaming smile breaks through the fog in front of him and he feels the touch of her soft fingers brushing against his cheek.

"Daniel?"  She says, holding his eyes with her own.  "Tishpak is going to show you to your room.  You'll be safe there.  Just do as he says alright?"

Runt nods his assent, and before long his hand is clasped in one that is much larger, rough and calloused.  He finds himself walking back upon the same path he had traversed earlier, past the room where Ashe had taken him, and down a set of stairs, right then left then right again...  Runt's mind unconsciously creating a map of everywhere his feet have taken him.  Still the fog engrosses his senses, though his mind seems free to roam, disconnected in a sort of parallel existence from his body.

"This is it then."  A gruff voice tells Runt as the two stop, undoubtedly the man that Norla had called Tishpak.   "Just go to sleep, eh?"  And Runt does, without so much as a thought.

---

Runt awakes some time later, his body frigid and his stomach snarling with hunger.  He's parched to the point where he felt the back of his throat gripping together.  Runt has the distinct feeling that he has awoken early, perhaps before the sunrise, though from the small cave around him it's really impossible to tell.  Runt's body is sprawled out upon a straw mat, no impressive bed, yet a luxury that Runt has only experienced a time or two in his life.  Runt pushes himself up to hands and knees and finds himself pleasantly surprised to find that his arms and legs heed his thoughts without so much as a complaint.

The room is quite large to a small child, and though it is sparsely furnished, again it seems to hold amenities that Runt has never known.  Clearly this is a room for one, as there are no other beds nor people that lay around him.  There is even a small desk with a stool in the corner.  The stone here is a dull grey, quite distinct from the red and black that was prevalent when Runt had first entered the cave.  Unlike above, there is no otherworldly light here either.  Instead, Runt finds a wan glow that seems to be coming from atop the small desk.

Runt pushes himself to a stand and the surprises keep coming.  It's the small, lighted stick that Rolf had enchanted the day previous.

And what's more, it appears that all of his other things are sprawled out on the desk next to it.  The broomstick, the blanket, the linen bags all filled and bulky, his flute case...  Even the knife Ashe had thrown to the ground on the bank of the river.

In addition, there are three other items on the desk.  A clay pot, perhaps half a gallon in size and about half filled with a clear liquid, a small, folded sheet of paper, not to mention Conal's lyre.

OOC:  You aren't entirely sure what time it is, but your best guess is that it is quite early.  Below is a map of where you have seen/traveled.  Feel free to ask any questions if you have them.  You are down a few fatigue from lack of eating and you also feel a headache coming on from thirst.

Mistress Norla sounded a bit like a priest with a long-involved sermon.  She said a lot of things to him that he really didn’t understand.  He knew the words and even the meaning of most of them, but he really had no concept what they meant put together, but then he often didn’t understand what many of the priests were trying to say either.  He did go to church services moderately often, not really out of any true sense of piety, but more for the stories he could hear and to listen to the choirs.  Plus, it was usuall place he could get out of foul weather.  Of course, he had learned to choose carefully which churches he could safely go in.  The large ones and ones in the rich areas wouldn’t allow the likes of him on their grounds.  The smallest and poorest ones he could get in, but sometimes people there tried to take him to one of the Homes for Wayward Children as they were officially known, more like prisons he had heard from other kids who had escaped from them.  The mid-sized ones and ones for tradesmen had some of the same problems as the small, but generally he could come and go without being bothered.  And a fair amount of the time, parishioners at them would give him a small bit of coin.  Not that he kept any of those alms, he gave that straight to the mendicants who had that territory.  You had to respect territory!



Mistress Norla’s words broke through his wandering thoughts.  Being shut in a cell didn’t sound good.  In fact, it sounded more like he was a prisoner.  But then when she addressed him directly, calling it his room and saying it was safe he calmed down. Still, her words and the way she said it would be something he would remember and have to think over, later maybe.  He went with the man as directed, his mind idly mapping out the route.  He might still be in a mental fog, but at least he knew exactly where he was and where that was in relation to everywhere else he had seen and been in the canyon.  Tishpack’s order for him to go to sleep seemed like an excellent idea and he did so without another thought.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Runt woke and briefly wasn’t sure where he was.  He didn’t recognize the room and had to think back to the last thing he could remember and that was Tishpack telling him to go to sleep.  So, this must be that room, his room (or cell) Mistress Norla had said.  He looked around, seeing it for the first time.  The fog was gone from his mind, and that was a good thing.  He was certain that he had missed a lot while he was in the fog.  He supposed that it was something to do with Mistress Norla teaching him how to be a mage.  But at least that was gone now, though it had been replaced with his throat dry and parched and his belly rumbling from not being fed and he was cold.   He was sure that those three things together were what was making his head hurt and from the noises his belly was making he must have missed at least one meal if not more.  That meant that it was probably the next day.

He glanced around at the room, noting the stool and desk where the light was coming from.  He stood up from the straw pallet he had slept on and spotted the magic light stick Master Rolf had made and let him carry.  And it looked like all of his possessions were on the desk.  He hadn’t noticed them when he came into the room or the desk and stool either.  They might have been there, and it was the fog that kept him from noticing them, or more likely someone had brought everything in while he was sleeping. It bothered him more than a bit that he hadn’t awakened when someone brought his stuff in, but maybe he was so tired from his first spell that he slept through it.  Too bad whoever it had been hadn’t put his blanket over him.  At least he wouldn’t have been cold.  Of course, he wouldn’t have been as cold if he hadn’t left his cloak with Macchus.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  He walked quickly over to the desk, glancing over everything while wrapping the blanket around his shoulders.  It looked like all his possessions and some other things, the most important of which was the clay pot with water!  He pulled his chipped cup out of one of the sacks, filled it and started drinking.  He repeated the process a couple of more times before stopping, the thought that he might need to save some popping into his mind suddenly.  His thirst quenched for the time being, he started going through everything to make sure it was all there.  He pulled his flute out and tested it to make sure it hadn’t been damaged and did the same with Connal’s lyre.  He stowed his knife back in his waistband and started a bit when the cold metal touched his skin.  He really should get a sheath to carry it in.  It was reassuring that the knife was there.  He was pretty sure that if he had been a prisoner, they wouldn’t have given it back to him.  So, he had probably misunderstood some of what Mistress Norla had said.  After ascertaining everything of his was there, he picked up the piece of paper and looked at it on both sides and then put it back on the desk.

All that done he went over to the door and tried it.

“Hey, anybody there,” he shouted.  “I be hungry!”

OOC - Lots of questions, just none that you would answer.  LOL.  Interesting.

Runt takes the most serious of his issues on at first, pouring the water from the large clay jar into his cup and downing it all in one.  The taste is beautiful, and Runt feels the water absorbed by the dry tissue his mouth even though he barely pauses to swallow it.  He refills the cup again, and again, downing as much as he deems prudent, the cling in his mouth and throat easing as the spittle returns under his tongue.

From there, Runt turns towards his belongings, opening up the linen bags one at a time to find his marbles, his ring and thimble, the bits of clay statue, and the worn bits of colored glass.  He frowns momentarily as he opens up the pouch which contains his coin...  or rather, someone else's coin for Runt has marked his own pennies and farthings, and none of the coins here have his mark on them.  He counts the total out, finding exactly what he had lost, $106 in total, though the mix of coin is also slightly off, with far more pennies and fewer farthings than he had originally had.

Runt next moves to test his flute, opening the case and blowing a few notes to make sure there has been no damage.  He finds to his satisfaction that the instrument is in perfect working order.

Next Runt picks up the lyre, an instrument which he has never really played before with the exception of the few times that Conal had let him pick at this one.  Runt had enough experience with other strings however, to know how the basics worked so he plucked a few chords, finding no damage but noting that the instrument was sadly out of tune after the two days of lack of use.

Finally, Runt picks up the folded paper, and notes that there are letters written on the front in ink.  He opens the folds and find that there is much more written on the inside, though unfortunately Runt has never had the opportunity to learn how to read.  He knew he could memorize it though, and ask the next time he saw Rolf, who Runt knew could read in even more than just one language.

Putting the note back down on the desk, Runt walks to the door, a sturdy oak fastened with iron bands and thick hinges, with only an iron handle nailed in as a fastening.  Thinking the thing open, Runt pulls on the handle to find the door only gives in the slightest, coming up against some stop as he pulls.

He calls out into the silence, but finds that his call receives no answer...

OOC:  The door doesn't have a traditional turn handle, but just an iron lip to pull on.  Something appears to be fixing the door closed, though you can't see any lock or locking mechanism from this side.

Runt waited a moment after calling out and receiving no response, then repeated his call even louder.

This time he waited longer for someone to open the door and then called out again, this time he rapped hard on the door with the pommel of his knife.  Maybe whoever is supposed to be watching the door was asleep or had gone to use a chamber pot.  Speaking of a chamber pot he looked around the room for one or even a hole in the floor to use.  He didn’t need it at the moment but knew that he would sooner or later.

Not seeing anything he figured that he could carefully transfer the water in the clay pot to his wine skin and then use the clay pot.  But he really hoped that he wouldn’t be here that long.  He went back to banging on the door and calling out for someone to come and let him out.  When he wanted to, he could get quite loud and right now he wanted to get loud.  He figured that sooner or later someone would show up to see what all the noise was, probably to yell at him to be quiet and settle down.  After several minutes of no response, he began to get worried.  What if they had left him here locked in the room?  He remembered in the orders that Mistress Norla had given others that they were leaving these caves soon.  Surely, she hadn’t forgotten him.  Or had she left him on purpose?  These thoughts caused him to continue his assault on the door and he became more and more frenzied in his efforts, only quitting when he had to stop to catch his breath and rest.

He went over to the desk and dipped his cup into the water to refresh his throat.  He looked down at the amount in the cup and carefully poured half of it back, paused and poured more back, leaving not even a mouthful in the cup and that he slowly sipped.

He set the cup back on the desk.  He needed to really think about what to do next and figure out a way to get that door open.  He did some of his best thinking while he was making music for himself so he picked up his flute, went over to the pallet, sat down and began to play, just simple easy tunes that he could do in his sleep.

While the music filled the room, he thought over his situation.  First, he was locked in here.  He figured that it was either barred or latched on the other side, probably barred since Mistress Norla called it cell and you don’t want strong prisoners to be able to break a latch.  Second, it really looked like no one was going to come and open the door.  He was sure that he had made enough noise for someone to hear him.  If he had made that much noise in Craine, the Duke himself would have sent his guard out to make him be quiet.  So, why wasn’t anyone going to come open the door?  Could be that Mistress Norla and all of her gang had left him here.  He bet that whatever was written on the piece of paper would tell him something important, but that wasn’t going to do him any good since he couldn’t read.  If the paper was from Mistress Norla for him to read, she had really made a mistake!  Heck, he knew a lot of adults who couldn’t read so why she would think that he could was really kind of dumb.  Well, when (if) he got out of here he would take the paper with him and get someone he trusted to read it to him.  But what if everyone hadn’t left?  What if this was a test?  That would make sense.  If he passed the test (getting out of here) then he was good enough for her to teach.  If he could open the door by magic that would be best, he was supposed to be learning to be a mage.  But getting out in any way would still be good enough.  At least it would show that he could think through a problem.

So, how could he use magic to open the door?  He remembered hearing some talk in certain quarters that there were specialists who used magic to get through locked doors and windows.  That meant that there were spells to do that, but he didn’t know any spells.

Then he remembered a story he had heard from down somewhere in al-Wazif or al-Haz about Ali Baba.  He had used some magic words to open a door.  It wouldn’t hurt to try them and if that didn’t work, he could try something else.  He stopped playing, set down the flute, and walked over to the door.  He stood before it, tried to clear his mind of nothing but the door opening, held out his hands palms out towards the door and said in a firm, loud voice the words from the story.

“OPEN SESAME!”


OOC – Yeah, I know, fat chance (quit laughing, it’s the best I could come up with).  I really don’t expect it to work.  Anyway, I’m stopping here, just in case.  I know I made a lot of assumptions above, so if there is anything that needs to be changed, let me know and I’ll fix it.  I just hope that if he has been abandoned, he gets himself out before Rolf and crew get there and let him out.  That would be horribly embarrassing, and I don’t think he would ever hear the end of it from Sajaa.  Not to mention what she would do to him.   Still interesting, not sure what you are up to here.  But I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:41, Mon 08 Aug 2022.

It was an odd place.  More luxury than Runt ever had, though with none of the freedom he was accustomed to.  Thinking little of the former and already missing the latter, Runt spent a few minutes rapping the door with the butt of his knife while shouting, though he felt that as tired and hungry as he felt, he probably gave up earlier than he normally would have before he walked back to the clay jar and refilling his cup of water.

Taking stock, Runt looks over the room again, searching for a chamber pot or else a hole in the floor to serve as a means to relieve himself.  Though he had missed over it at first, he does eventually spy an adult-sized clay pot nestled in the shadows in the corner of the room.  He approaches slowly, peering within and noting the receptacle is empty, though it still emits faint, intermittent smells of human waste when Runt walks close enough.

Unsure of what else to do at the moment, Runt takes out his flute and plays a few soft melodies, as much to calm his mind as to help provoke his thoughts.

It was then, in the middle of his playing, that Runt remembered tales of a man who opened a secret passage in a cliff with two simple words!  Runt didn't even need to open up a cliff, he just needed to open a door!  And he had magic!  Norla had told him so and even helped him cast a spell!

Runt scrunches up his face in concentration, pushes his hands outward as if shoving the door open from afar and shouting at the top of his voice!

Still, the door remains resolutely closed.

OOC:  My fault for not describing it in the beginning but there would be a chamber pot in here, so you can add that to your list of resources as you see fit.  Roll vs. perception (Hearing).  If you are posting please only make it no more than about a minute of action.

OOC - 12:17, Today: Secret Roll: Runt rolled 8 using 3d6 with rolls of 2,5,1.  Hearing.  I went with the roll first. I certainly didn't think that Open Sesame would work, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Runt stared at the door and frowned.  Not open, though maybe it unbarred it.  He tried the handle again, just in case.

OOC - Not sure what he heard, if anything or where it was coming from so I'm holding here.

Runt tried the handle of the door, though despite his attempts at magic, the door remains firmly fixed in place.

With a frown, Runt steps back for a moment... though the expression only lasts for a moment.  For from the direction of the door he hears dull, even beats, like a thick mallet slapped upon stone.

Had his spell worked?  Did it just need more time?

Runt catches his breath as he hears the dull scrape of wood sliding across the backside of the door...

OOC:  Giving you a moment to take any preparations you want.  Stealth and DX (evade) rolls are appropriate if you want to try and bolt your way out of here.  Just note that based on your above posts, you only grabbed the knife, I'm assuming the rest of the stuff is still sitting on the desk.

Runt's jaw hit the floor at the sound of the bar moving on the other side of the door.  It worked, he thought, taking a couple of steps back so the door wouldn't hit him when it came swinging open.  He took the magic light stick from his rope belt and held it in front of him to be able to see better and waited.

OOC - Yeah, everything else would be on the desk except for the light stick which I figure he would have carried with him to be able to see more clearly.  Not sure what to expect now!

Runts steps back, bringing the lighted stick to his hand as he gapes as the portal ahead of him.

A meaty, wooden thunk reverberates from just beyond, before the door slowly opens inward with a creaaaaak!

But it wasn't Runt's magic, or not just his magic anyway.  For in the doorway was a bearded man in nightclothes, a strong and angry sort of fellow, that had a wicked looking scar running near the length down his bicep.  In his left arm he held an oil lantern, and though his right arm is still hidden by the door, his eyes, sitting atop the purpled pools of his cheekbones, shone a malice that could make up for lack of any weapon.

"Shut... The... Fuck... Up."  The man spits the words between grinding teeth as he stares at Runt, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.

OOC:  The door is hinged at the side and about half open.  The man wears just a cloth undershirt and shorts, with sandals on his feet and has a lantern in his left hand, though you can't see his right.

Roll vs. IQ please.

OOC - 14:29, Today: Secret Roll: Runt rolled 13 using 3d6 with rolls of 3,4,6.  IQ roll.

Runt's eyes widened at the sight before him.  He shut his mouth and clamped his free hand over it while nodding his head in agreement.  Guess I made enough noise.

LOL, funny, looks like he disturbed someone's beauty sleep.  And they really needed it!

At Runt's near immediate gesture, the man nods his head stiffly, before walking backwards out of the door and closing it behind him.

Runt hears the heavy sound of wood knocked on stone, and the man's sluggish movements behind the door...

OOC:  Stopping just to see if you want to do anything immediate here.  If you don't feel free to move on to your next idea, or else let me know when it is good to fast forward.  We may be getting close to a point where I'm going to have to spend some real time aligning you and the other group.  We're not quite there I don't think, and I'm hoping it won't be long either way, though of course it depends on the decisions both you and they make in game.

Runt counted to five, slowly, and rushed to the door.  He pulled at it just a bit to test and see if the man had fastened the bar back in place.

OOC - He's not wanting to open it yet, just pulling a little.  If it is unbarred, then he will wait until he can no longer hear any sounds from the other side.  Then he'll fill the water skin, gather up all his stuff, and exit the room heading towards the entrance to the cavern complex.  And he will take the letter and stool with him.  All subject to change of course.  Fast forward as you see fit.

Unwilling to risk an altercation, Runt counts to five in his head before moving so much as a muscle.

One.

Two...

The door echoes with a hollow thud across it's length.

Three.

Four...

There is a scraping sound of wood on wood, and a settling catch as what Runt assumes is a wooden bar is nestled into place.

Five!

Runt rushes the door, his teeth clenched as he tugs just slightly at the handle, hoping against hope that it gives just a little...

But Runt knows even before the door catches that he has been locked back in...  A crossbar, no doubt, has been laid across the outside, fixing him where he is...

Runt's shoulders slumped in disappointment.  He could make a lot of noise again and probably get the crazy man to come back.  But that would probably be a bad idea.  So he started the only thing he could come up with - cutting through the door.  He took his knife and began what he figured would be a long process.

OOC - Like I said, subject to change.  Anyway, what he is going to do is start shaving at the edge of the door about where he thinks the bar should be.  Hopefully it won't take days to carve enough out of the edge to get his hand through and hopefully lift the bar up.

disappointed that the man, whoever he was, had remember to put the bar back in place, Runt goes to the last thing he can think of... boring a hole in the door with his knife.

It should be easy.  Runt reasons.  After all, he has a knife...  and he's seen all sorts of woodwork that people have done without much more of a tool than that.  All he needs is the time to do it, and as he figures, that's the one luxury he has plenty of.

At first, Runt has to admit, his plan starts poorly.  His first attempts are really more of stab and twist than anything else.  While he had thought it would be like peeling an orange, getting little curls of the heavy door at each try, Runt actually finds that this method presents him with several problems.  His knife only seems to be able to penetrate a very shallow bit of the wood, the twisting motion was much more strenuous on his wrist (and the knife!) than he had anticipated, and getting his blade back in the same hole with any sort of effect turned out to be quite a balancing act... not to mention it was louder than Runt had been hoping.

Frustrated by his lack of progress, Runt grits his teeth and sits down for a moment, thinking through a way he might be able to do things differently.  Eventually, he simply decides to treat the whole thing like a whittling project, scraping just the slightest bit at a time from a much larger area.

This tactic too seems to have its drawbacks, not the least of which is that it is time consuming.  But slowly, Runt creates a patch of naked wood where he has scraped down through the polished exterior.

Scrape.  Scrape.  Scrape.

Runt takes another break, stretching his wrist as he pours the last of the water in the jug into his cup and drains it.

Scrape.  Scrape.  Scape.

Sweat beads on Runt's forehead, and for a while he tries out the knife with his left hand, just using his right as a guide.

Scrape.  Scrape.  Scrape.

It's been hours.  Runt's forearm burns with a hot intensity that nearly matches his stubbornness, he has begun to feel a thin headache at the top of his forehead and his mouth beginning to dry with thirst. Not to mention that his stomach has been rumbling for hours.  But he's making progress!  He can feel the depth of the divot in the wood and the thin, flimsy bit left at the bottom of it.  He tests the area with the point of his knife, and to his joy, the blade cuts through a thin slit perhaps a half an inch wide!

Reverting back, Runt keeps prodding with the tip of his knife, twisting just enough to break up the fibers before trying to sever those that seem softest.  In the span of a few more minutes, Runt has produced a hole!  Something small, just barely big enough for him to stick a finger through, which he does in celebration, testing to see if he can feel the bar holding him in, though even when he swings his finger in all directions it doesn't seem close enough for him to touch.

Runt withdraws his digit, and is just about to start his project again with renewed vigor, when a voice from outside causes him to stop in his tracks.

"Oi!"  A voice from outside calls, and Runt waits for a moment in silence, hoping that he hasn't been discovered.

But Runt soon hears the grinding sound of wood on wood, Runt quickly hides his knife behind his back and his door opens to display Hugh, the quieter of the men who had captured Runt yesterday.

"Get your things then."  He says, looking at Runt with a confused look as if the boy had sprouted a second head.  "You're coming with me."

Runt had worked on the door for what had seemed forever, well at least hours.  And had made progress, slow at first, but more as he got further along and at last had a small hole all the way through.  Not enough to get the bar out of the way, but he figured that it wouldn't be too much longer.  Then he heard a voice on the other side and the door was opened.  He didn't expect it to be Hugh though.  About the only person he would have expected less would have been Ashe.  Still, Hugh had not been rough and had seemed somewhat nice, so he was not unhappy to see him.

When Hugh said "Get your things then.  You're coming with me." he didn't argue or even question the man, no matter that Hugh looked at him oddly.  He just quickly gathered up his things, something he had done many times before when told to move along by shopkeeper or the sticks back in Craine.  The only new things he had were the letter, easy enough to stash in one of his bags, and Conal's lyre and the stool he wanted.  Those he carried, one in each hand.  With everything gathered, he turned back to face Hugh.  "I ready.  Where we going, he croaked out, hoping that there might be water and food somewhere in the near future.

OOC - Well, interesting once again.   And absolutely not what I expected.  Just out of curiousity, how far was he through the door, how long had he been working, and how much longer would it have taken him?  I figure that I would mention the results over on the Gurps board.
 You've got me very confused and intrigued.  I've got no idea what you are up to here, but it should be fun!

Runt does not complain, nor even comment, but only asks Hugh where they are going, to which the man grunts his response.  "Norla's asked for you.  Shouldn't be long I imagine."

Runt gets his things, along with Conal's lyre and the small stool, pressing the lighted stick into his rope belt so that it still lights up the area around him.  Hugh can't help but suppress a chuckle at the boy toting out his own chair, though he doesn't say anything and only begins leading the way out of the small room.

Though Runt had suspected the several turns he had taken just before entering the room had been forks of some sort, he finds as he leaves his jail for the night that the grey stone cave simply wanders back and forth unlike the arrow straight hallways of the red and black caves above.  They do pass another corridor on the right, which seems to split off in various directions only a little ways down, though Hugh takes him back up the steps the same way he had walked the previous night after he had been spellcasting with Norla.

Interested at the surroundings, Runt pays attention, notes that as he climbs the steps upwards the grey caves give way to the eerily lighted red and black stone that seem shaped and smoothed, more like the walls of a castle than the inside of a rock.  Runt glances left towards the entrance of the caves and notes three men there now, looking watchfully outside as if they are standing guard.  Runt and Hugh pass the small room where Runt had met Mendel the previous day, and turn right at the same spot.  The corridor continues on to the left as well, and in the distance Runt spots a statue of some sort, though he doesn't get a good look before he is ushered on to follow Hugh.  They pass three doors to the right as the hallway continues on, right up to the spot where Norla had led him the previous evening.

"Ah!"  Norla's voice calls from across the room as Runt attempts to take in the whole of it.

It's massive.  Bigger than any room Runt has been in apart from the cathedral in Craine which Runt had stepped in once or twice.  The cave walls curve upwards towards the ceiling, meeting in an arch at the top that is easily five times as high as a full grown man.  The biggest feature of the room is a table which takes up much of the right half, easily thirty feet long with ten chairs on each side and a massive, throne like chair at the far end which is gilded and has a high, delicately embroidered back.  On the left side of the room, there are smaller and wider tables, though these are higher, too high to see what may be on them.

What Runt can see however, is a large tapestry at the back of the room which depicts a knight of some sort, wearing plated armor everywhere but his head, displaying his easy features and long, flowing hair. The man is seated upon a roan charger and spearing a lance into another man, this one is not mounted, has a long beard, and evil grimace, and has skin tones and features that look very similar to Sajaa...

"Daniel!"  Norla says again with a smile as she stands up from one of the chairs, the one directly next to the throne.  "So good to see you!  Perhaps you are hungry?  Come and sit!"

Hugh nudges Runt forward, getting behind him as the two approach the table.

"Found him trying to bore a hole in his door with the knife."  Hugh offers as the two approach.  "He were wiggling his finger through like a worm when I showed up."

"Did you?"  Norla asks, her face expressionless and her voice still calm as her gaze shifts between Hugh and Runt.  "And I see you have brought your own seat.  But there are plenty here.  Come and sit down.  Hugh, have Ishara bring a plate.  I've no doubt Daniel is hungry."

Runt followed Hugh out of the room to wherever Mistress Norla was at.  He was glad to know that he hadn’t been abandoned in the room, but he was not pleased at having been locked in.  As Hugh led him through the complex, he noted that it was the same path he had walked yesterday.  Though this time he took in all the details that he just hadn’t been able to notice, which was still a bit of a mystery as to why he had been in such a fog.  When they arrived at the throne room, and it must be a throne room since it was a big as it was and there was a throne at one end, he slowed, taking in all the details of such a space.  This would probably be the only time he would ever be allowed into such a place, even though he had been here yesterday but that didn’t really count as he couldn’t remember most of it.  The tapestry was the largest and richest he had ever seen.  He looked over it as he walked forward, wondering what story it was about.

Why didn’t I see all this before, he wondered.

His study of the tapestry was interrupted when Mistress Norla stood and greeted him, he hadn’t noticed her seated at the large table, there was so much else in the room.



Runt froze in his tracks, not sure where he should sit, but he nodded at the mention of food, his stomach had been rumbling since he had awakened hours before.  “Yes, Mistress Norla,” he said, his voice raspy from thirst.



At Hugh’s revelation of his attempt to get out of the room, he almost panicked, figuring that he was about to get a beating or worse.



When Mistress Norla didn’t order a punishment, he let out an audible sigh of relief, but still hesitated for a brief moment, not sure which chair he should use.  He finally chose the one opposite from her.  He carefully placed most of his possessions on the floor by the chair, pulled it out a bit from the table, climbed up in it and then tucked his feet up under his bottom so that more than his head could be seen over the tabletop.  He then waited for the food to be brought, or more questions which he figured were coming.

OOC – Didn’t expect this.  I really thought he had been abandoned in the cell.  This should be interesting, but at least he’s going to get fed (and get back some of that lost Fatigue), I hope.  ;-)  When the food is brought out, he will tie into it with gusto, but will bow his head and say a short, silent grace.  While eating, he will be constantly glancing up at Mistress Norla to watch her expression.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, he does have a specific reason for taking the stool and it’s not just his well-earned habit for acquiring possibly sell-able possessions.

Runt feels perpetually surprised by his surroundings, but at the very least, Norla wasn't punishing him for the damage he did to the door.  Perhaps it was because she had already said they were leaving, but either way, Runt was thankful for the reprieve.

He set his stool down beside the table, laid out the majority of his things on top, and sat down with his knees underneath him so that his chest rose up above the thick wood.  Though he expects a barrage of questions, Norla simply smiles and waits for the few minutes it takes before another woman walks in with a plate and a large cup, which she sets down in front of Runt as she is bid by Norla.

"Thank you Ishara."  Norla says as Runt takes a moment to say a quick grace, which Norla seems to note with an appreciative nod.  After, Runt tucks in to his food with gusto, a plate of dried meats and fruit with a hard wafer-bread on the side.  Though the rations are dried, they are far better than what Runt is used to eating, salty and sweet in a combination that makes Runt's mouth salivate despite his thirst, and he drinks the water greedily from his cup so that he can stuff himself further.

"How are the preparations coming along?"  Norla asks Ishara, who has stayed in the room, standing behind Runt despite completing her task.  Runt steals a glance behind him, taking in the view of this new woman, who has long and dark hair tied back in a braid, pale features, and a lithe and wiry body.  Her body bristles with weapons.  A sword, not quite so large as a broadsword, hangs at her belt while several other hilts, all various sizes of knives by the look of them extend from her hip, thigh, and shoulder.

"Everything's moving as planned."  Ishara's voice is deeper than expected, raspy, though not unpleasant.  "Leo sent a rider this morning.  He's ready for us.  Most everything we need has been moved from the caves.  Everybody's been working most of the night but for a few hours sleep..."

Ishara snorts a laugh, interrupting herself.

"Everyone except for Elkins.  Jude found him hidden away in a corner, drugged out of his mind.  We've taken all his things and have him locked up where the treasury was so that he can sober up."

"Yes, I'd heard."  Norla responds curtly, the corner of her mouth drawing out into a skeptical glare.  "It doesn't seem that Niall had many standards when he hired his men did he?"

Norla sighs, shaking her head.

"Well, he can still be of use."  Norla continues, perking her head up with a wry smile.  "Perhaps he'll be just the bargaining chip we need.  And if not, I suppose it's no loss."  She pauses for a moment, then asks with a hint of trepidation, "... so we are still not ready?"

"No ma'am."  Ishara responds without hesitation or fanfare, her gruff voice plowing through the words as if they were simply a job to be done.  "There isn't much left to do, but it will still be a few hours at least, unless you give the word to cut and run."

"No."  Norla sighs.  "I've planned for this contingency, though I'd hoped to avoid it.  Keep working, and be ready for the call if our little annoyance comes our way.  You may go Ishara."

Norla leans back, her expression clouded in thought as Runt places the last of the bread in his mouth, soaking up the moisture on his tongue like a sponge.  Runt was stuffed...  he'd eaten past the point where he should have stopped, though the thought of the hunger pangs prodded him on along with the need to do something while the conversation was going on around him.

OOC:  No questions from Norla yet.  You've eaten a full meal, and though the rules state that you don't get any fatigue back until you have 3 meals in a day, I think that's bunk and I've added 1 FP back to your sheet.  You aren't fully back to normal though (or perhaps this is close to normal as you probably missed several meals back in Craine as well).

I figured you had a reason to bring the stool... I just thought it was a funny image... a seven year old toting (stealing) a stool out of his jail cell.  I can't imagine anyone seeing that without making a comment ;)
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:44, Thu 08 Sept 2022.

Runt cleaned every morsal off his plate, down to the crumbs.  He was glad that Mistress Norla didn't ask him any questions leaving him free to enjoy the much-needed meal with no interruptions.  The woman Ishara, who stood behind him, worried him a bit.  Was she guarding in case he tried to run or something?  But as Mistress Norla conversed with her he decided that Ishara was reporting on what seemed to be the groups preparations to leave the area.  Still, she looked like she would make a great guard.  She had so much sharp pointy steel on her that Runt wasn't sure he would be able to walk if he tried to carry it all.

He looked longingly at the now empty plate as he finished the last piece of bread.  While he was full, almost overfull, there were a couple of corners in his belly that he was sure he could fill or have a bit extra to tuck away for later.  At least his belly had quit making the loud rumbling sounds.

He looked up to Mistress Norla waiting patiently.  "Thank you, that was good.  I was real hungry."

OOC - Yeah, I figure that he was quite used to missing a meal or two often in Craine.
 In his mind he isn't stealing the stool.  He was told the room was his, so everything in it must be his also.  The rest of the stuff was just too big for him to manage.  Lot of potentially useful info said between Ishara and Norla.  But I've no idea if any of it will make it any further.  Interesting.

If Runt is expecting things to progress quickly from his breakfast, he finds himself mistaken, not to mention confused.  Norla barely looks at him, but smiles and nods when he thanks her for the breakfast.  Instead, she simply sits in her seat, her fingers tented in front of her chin, a look of intense concentration on her brow.

Unsure of exactly what to do, but confident he isn't supposed to leave Runt takes a few moments to look around the room.  The tables to his left (he notices now that he is kneeling up on a chair) appear to have papers sprawled out across them...  with some sort of large pictures spread out across the bottom.

He looks more at the tapestry as well...  The knight holds his attention, clearly it is the center of the work, for it uses the brightest colors, silvers and tan, blonde and blue.  He also sits the highest, mounted upon his steed, where everyone else stands only upon the earth, or fades into the background.  Runt had at first only noticed the one other man, the one with the beard and the scowl, though he notes now that the background is filled with smaller, dark skinned people sporting ugly looks... and one Runt notices... that seems to be depicted as a sort of half-man half devil...

Though the knight seems resplendent upon his steed, Runt is surprised that he is truly alone in the painting.  He appears just one man against a multitude.

There are other works of art here as well.  One against the back wall pictures Jesus on the cross, an image which Runt was familiar enough with from his time in the churches.  However, this one seems significantly gorier than any Runt had seen before.  Blood pours from the many wounds inflicted by the nails and the gash in the side.  Jesus's expression too seems off.  Most pictures like this that Runt had seen, he would describe as sublime, or perhaps at peace.  In this picture however, the man on the cross stares outward with a cold iron glare, his eyes locking with Runt's in an expression that seems to weigh his very soul.

"Ma'am."  The word surprises Runt, who jumps slightly in his seat, his knees pressing hard into the wood of the chair below.  Runt looks back to find Hugh in the entry way, fitted with leather armor and wearing a sword upon his hip.  "It's time.  They're headed this way."

"Thank you Hugh."  Norla responds, her hands coming down from her face as she looks across the table again at Runt.

"It's time for your second lesson Daniel."  Norla begins.  "Are you ready?  You must remove all thought from your mind again, and relax."

OOC:  You can probably as a player see where this is going.  Obviously again you can physically resist, though regardless of your actions please give me a roll vs. IQ so I can start moving things forward.  Same rules as last time.  Actively resisting requires a contest of skills against Norla's magic, passively taking in additional information requires a roll vs. IQ.  Otherwise, I get to control you up to any action I deem out of character for you - at which point I'll allow you to choose if you want to roll to resist.

Just realized that I forgot to address this:

Runt:

how far was he through the door, how long had he been working, and how much longer would it have taken him?  I figure that I would mention the results over on the Gurps board.

I looked for a couple of skills to roll against, carpentry made the most sense, but as you weren't building anything it didn't quite fit.  I ended up just making it a roll against Hobby: whittling - which I assessed was DX-4 default.  It was also easy (all you were trying to do was scrape away wood), so you got a +5 to the default.  Even with that, you failed a couple of rolls.  You ended up working on the door for 5 hours, and were just about ready to break through when Hugh came by.