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Visitor :  Dice Roller| Game Info| The Cast |
| 1: Becalmed in Stormreach. Posted by The GM. | Group: 0 |
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| Author | Message | Page: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 [all][bottom] |
It was delicious, seeing the pot heat up, knowing just a few chosen words could bring Garreg beyond simmer, Oh' it might be worth it. How would the Hounds react? Tremor slowed his backward stride, mulling just the correct spice to bring the broth to boil. "Yes, Tap, of course, I should have known..." A skip turn and a dash down the stairs. Back to duties, one mop brush, two mop... time to read the preparations and find Tap, bring him to the Tap room for discussion. {*} Why should Xen'Drik be any different from anywhere else? Brelanders were pushed out by the Stone Queens, and the Gobs fro that matter. Now Stormreach is claiming more and pushing out Poisoners and Spider worshiping savages. Prey seems a bit harsh, they have no coin or much of anything of value. So went the Gobs, so go the Drow, another Empire crumbles. "There are other... Tribes? There is an entire continent, surely somewhere they could make a home? Look at wee folk, Master of Clawfoot and Razorfamg! Trained without use of a Mark of Hobbling. Better for them to be out there than the _slow strangle here in Stormreach?" "I always think I am going to lose, a little, but not winning anything is a bit of surprise. Bless you and May the Host honor your Hospitality, see it repaid a Thousand times." Tremor hefts the Dire fowl and swings the enormous haunch to his mouth for a taste. "You know, I like this place, it needs... something. Have you thought some on that; improvements?" After the answer, Tremor turns back to his melancholy cousin, hand raising a mug in salute, "You have a solution? Wait... are you recording their stories, their histories?" | |||||
"You might well ask all of Thrane to play host to Kaarnathi soldiers as expect the Tulati to live with other tribes. It would be a slaughter. And they have a spiritual connection to this ancient place. They stay because of a duty they feel to the land and to the sea. I have spoken to their elder Milliauka at length, but still I have not penetrated the mysteries of this duty. Yes, I have studied their culture, and their history, and perhaps putting their stories into bound pages might have been enough for me... once. There are many books about dead cultures, many written by those cultures that facilitated the end. The Tulita would be dust and their books would be covered in dust, and so all of my meals thereafter would taste of dust. So I tell their stories and make plain the injustice I see, and if my bread be meagre, still it has a wholesome flavor, and sits well in my belly. That is my solution."  Falgor Finney"Mind yer prayers, ser Valevine. The Traveler's the only one of the Host who listens in Stormreach. But you are right..." Finney looked around the bleak mishmash of ruined construction and decaying wood. "...there's room for improvements. Holes to patch, maybe a bit 'o paint.... Come back during daylight, and you have my permission to make them. I'll even let you borrow my hammer." | |||||
So why not employ them? The City Watch, who is that Stormlord, why not employ them as messengers or for cleaning drains? Give them a barracks, pay them some coin and they have a purpose. Fixed. No? It is hard to see a solution, they are poisoners and are here because there is no where else for them to go? I am surprised they have not been collected and shipped to a Tooth or some small Isle.. How many of them are there?"
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Falgor FinneyThe dwarf's massive eyebrows went up, and his manner a shade warmer. "You will sir? And I believe you. It's almost enough to make a fellow re-evaluate his opinion of people. Almost." He eyed Capshaw. "After all, the cure for laziness is to find some work. "I am working. I have these leaflets written for my criers, and these sheets to post. Now then, you might imagine that all the dark elves are of a kind, playing with venomous creatures in the black of caves... this is not so. Their gods are strange and varied. The Tulita have a special reverence for the Leviathan, now hunted 'til the seas are red. They worship the powers that make the land; the spirits that reside in the volcanic fields. These people were custodians; caretakers for some special purpose. Now all they can do is scrub the sewers to earn enough coin to pay for the privilege of living in what was once their home? And the powers that be know to their cost not to put the weapons of the city watch in the hands of a Tulita. They are defeated but not done. Not yet. Their numbers in the city are dwindling, soon there will be few enough that they could be shipped away. Who knows how many hide in the outskirts and the jungle. Not enough to take Stormreach, there are fewer than there were during the plantations war." This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Fri 11 May 2018. | |||||
A silent smile and then Tremor's eyes follow the Dwarf's eyes and he turns to see his cousin implicated as the target of the inference. A brief cloud over his features could not be helped, these are still early days, time enough to measure in these coming seasons. "Look at the Gobs, they built Sharn, they had an Empire. You only keep things until you can't. They can have Leviathan as Gods, they can talk to Fae in their fields, Men came along and now they lost what they had. Drow Empire will go the way of others. Men are better than Elves, Elves better than Orcs, Orcs better than... that's a hard, ah, better than Gnolls. They can't cling to old ways. I'm all for Drow learning how to be civilized. What does your post say?" | |||||
"These people don't want to have an empire... they just want to live." The halfling crier could not speak. He thrust the page at Tremor then jumped off the stool and dashed out the door. The flyer demanded 'justice and freedom' but in as disorganized way as ever it could be presented. Tremor immediately saw five simple changes in the prose and layout that would make the poster so much more persuasive. Capshaw had no talent for the task he'd taken on. Falgor Finney"All heart, that one. It will kill 'im" The drunk in the Guard uniform chimed in: "Gnolls 'r nothing to sneeze at!" | |||||
Tremor took the flyer into his hand, his eyes went to black liquor and tried to follow its flocking and wheeling use of prose. When Tremor looked up from the page, his cousin was seen only as a shadow out the door. "Wait!" Tremor threw himself from the chair and ran, half leaping, half weaving, half skipping through patrons, chairs tot he door and outside in an attempt to accost the Crier. Certainly if his voice had not stopped him there was very little in the way of egress from the Dinghy, it was on a pier. perception 19 Tremor returns to the Dinghy, to his chair at the bar, looking for consolation and information from the proprietor, "Aye, it is a strong trait amongst the Halfling; Hearts made for Lions. I have to find the old Silver cleric and his friend, they came to visit Capshaw. Did you happen to know where they went? Or when Capshaw is likely to return here? " This message was last edited by the player at 21:33, Mon 14 May 2018. | |||||
Falgor Finney"Oh, aye... He'll be back. His hut's somewhere near here in the rigging, but he'll be putting some 'o that passion to work, now, handing down his instructions to the local boys he's got crying out his message." He shook his head. "You'll be meaning old Archibald Noeliss? He's the only one of the Flame seen around these parts. The rest of them churchy types fear getting fish guts on their socks, and so they stay far away from the harbor. But Archie came to where the folk were needing help. He hasn't come down of late, and that's bad for everyone. You could go the the lodge and see if he's there, and just indisposed, or if he needs some kind of assistance." Finney drew a simple map on a scrap. "It's not easy to find like the big cathedral, but you can spot it if you know not to look for flashy decor. Up near the Sloths." The drunk in the Guard uniform piped up: "I fought a gnoll, once." | |||||
Taking the simple map, "Falgor, my thanks. May Aureon reveal to you the Lore you require." Tremor takes off to follow the map. Being vigilant, wary and looking for places for cover as he goes. | |||||
Beyond it there are fewer lights, fewer people moving about, fewer sounds of laughter or happiness. A ragged beggarman proffers a soiled parchment: "I's th' map o' Garr Bloodbane’s gold!" An offer that Tremor had already heard before. The map he held in his hand was more likely to lead him to that mythic treasure.. The route leads through what Tremor has been given to understand is a dirty, dangerous neighborhood. The back of the Cross was untended by the Guard. Tremor noted that an alternate route high over in the 'rigging' was climbable, although there were plenty of crates and piles of refuse that an intrepid halfling could use for cover on the ground. If he wished to avoid anyone in the alleyways he probably could. Which thought came to mind whern Tremor spied three 'beggars' on the path ahead. They had none of the stoop of the downtrodden. They were well formed and fit, with what Tremor's eyes said were regular meals. Though they were spattered with dirt and blood. He spotted boiled leather armor under their rags and daggers too dear for the homeless they pretended to. | |||||
Then if he had chosen correctly, perhaps he could hear a bit of conversation, a name. Then whirred the mind for a story should he be... noticed. Beaten at cards, given a map to find a Keeper and ask for work. Tremor settled his mind, body and listened. 01:53, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 12 using 1d20+9. Stealth, hide from brigands. 01:55, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 24 using 1d20+5. Perceptio, Brigand talk. This message was last edited by the GM at 14:22, Thu 17 May 2018. | |||||
"... No, see it's brilliant, they can get it, but they can't keep it or use it, so it all gets sold to us." "And then we sell it on, right. But not all of it. Couldn't we sell more?" "Nah, the best of it gets shipped for top dollar." "You heard that. But do you know it for a fact?" "It's above my pay grade, but I know they got enough to bribe the Guard, and pay the Salty Dogs." "The Guard? That don't take much. And Rickard's an asshole. Why'd Gar-- Hello there." Tremor was confident he'd picked an apt place to conceal himself, but whether it was a trick of the light, or the famed Traveler's Curse, the shelter he'd intended to hide behind was simply not there when he attempted to use it. One of the toughs addressed Tremor: "Pardon, but you seem a little lost. Can we perhaps guide you to your destination? These streets can be dangerous this time of night." | |||||
"Just stopped, thought I saw some shiny. Nuthin' 'cept reflection. Just movin' on, got a cat to feed." Should they not buy his act, Tremor would gauge their coming for him, and do his best to turn and run, counting on his nimbleness to overcome obstacles and leave things in his wake to... impede those that followed. 18:22, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 18 using 1d20+4. Deception v Brigands. Deception: Know where I am/where I am going/Expected somewhere 18:23, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 15 using 1d20+6. Acrobatics to avoid/leave obstacles. This message was last edited by the player at 01:28, Thu 17 May 2018. | |||||
"Nimble little minx, ain't he?" The second thug agreed, and the third was struggling with the basket that covered his head. From his perch, Tremor could continue to flee in the direction of his goal, or parlay further. | |||||
"You know, I never realized how beautiful the Reach is from on high. The smell of... well the brine at least, is refreshing. How are you doing down... Oh, still at it?" | |||||
With a flourish he displayed a leather pouch brimming with dark, glistening leaves. He lifts a pinch of the prepared vegetable matter to the light. "Dragonsmoke, the best you’ll find in Stormreach. Normally this would run you twenty five gold bits easy, but because I have an excellent supplier I am able to charge you only ten. Here is an adventure worthy of heroes!" | |||||
"Your offer is a good one. It appeals to my sense of value and parting with less coin then I need to. Still, you have me confused with the lumbering, armored and generally slow witted knuckle dragging drunkards who have washed up on the Reach, they adventure to put gold in their pockets. I am in search of pockets filled with gold. Everyone needs a trade, you would do well to learn from Jesters; 'Know thy prospect, the better to empty deeper pockets.'" | |||||
But the leader of the group smirked and shook his head in response."If that one's not using dragon-smoke now, he will be soon. Come find us when the time comes, my friend, and when your pockets are full." He directed the trio to move on, giving the halfling a wry wave. | |||||
Time to move on, Tremor will look from his perch and try to reconcile it with his map and the destination. using the carefulness of his people Tremor will move around and then back down to the ground and continue on his way, hoping the proprietor could put him near where he had to go. | |||||
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Perhaps some way higher would present itself. Tremor circled the building and tried to spot ways up and looking for places that might be good as a perch, from which one might keep an eye on the front door. 18:41, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine, rolled 15 using 1d20+9. Stealth. 18:42, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 15 using 1d20+7. Investigation . 18:42, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 22 using 1d20+5. Perception This message was last edited by the player at 01:46, Wed 30 May 2018. | |||||
Tremor found a likely spot to see without being seen, and settled in to watch for a bit. A half dozen rats scurried down the alley. Half an hour later the cur returned, skinny, and sniffing the ground. There was an unintelligible shout that came over the wall from the adjoining neighborhood. The lodge was still. | |||||
Tremor adjusted to relax and keep an eye out, unless it rained or a cold snap rolled into the Reach, he would stay until sleep overcame him. | |||||
Looking down, he tried to see the cart better, but there was nothing. The alley below was empty, save for the sound. | |||||
Who was moving? Was it a wheel or just rats? Deciding to move slow, Tremor slowly took some steps to descend. Then stop. Listen and look, then a few more steps, caution and inquisitiveness battled for every step. 12:04, Today: Tremor Enkau Valevine rolled 12 using 1d20+9. Stealth v Squeaky cart. This message was last edited by the player at 19:05, Thu 31 May 2018. |
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