Mum-Ra-Lud looked to Zula, as they hurried on.
"Perhaps", he replied, tight-lipped for the moment.  He had no idea who she was, but was impressed with her alertness.  But that was all he intended to say for now.

For now, he just wanted to get out of this forsaken city.
he hurried to join with Dim, leading the herd.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:44, Mon 24 Aug 2020.

Finally, the time came when they reached the city walls... a building had fallen upon the Lesser Western Gate, crushing it... and then the building itself burned, so it was easy to leave the city.

The refugees streamed outward... and then huddled against the exterior of the city wall, to the south of the remains of the gate.

For the captain of the city's guard, the former gladiator Kurrimya, was there, with a dozen of his men. "Word came to me that many of our escaped slaves were fleeing this way-- with those who were witnessed starting the fire at the auction stage," he says. "What do you have to say for yourselves, eh? Breaking the laws of Timinit and causing great damage and the lives of our citizens...?"

It seems clear that Kurrimya is just enjoying some verbal sparring before attacking...

The Old Child speaks up: "What I want to know is: Who am I? Does anyone here know?" She frowns, and looks at Dim. "Also... where did you get that big club?" she asks.

"It is the Hammer of Kalmard," Dim explained, although the question was probably not the most pressing item on an otherwise full agenda. "It has been in the family since... well, since Kalmard."

He gestured with it now, aiming it one-handed at the Captain like he was pointing a stick. Kalmard was probably a forgotten legend in Timinit, if he'd ever been a legend there at all. But a warhammer was a massive weapon that took a strong man two hands to wield... and Dim was swinging it around one-handed like its weight was nothing. It would take a very brave man or a very great fool to bar his way.

"And unless you want a taste of it, you will let us pass."

(Do you wish to roll WORDS for that, or perhaps Coerce...?)

"What... or where... or when... is... or was... Kalmard?" asks The Old Child, tugging on Dim's clothing...

"About two centuries ago, give or take," Dim replied, not taking his eyes off of the Captain of the Guard. It was not the time for such conversation, but Dim tended to answer questions when asked.


Rolling to Coerce.
Dim rolled 6 using 2d6 ((2,4)).
Failing to Coerce.

The Old Child looks thoughtful at Dim's answer, but there is no time for her to reply.

"...I'm bored," Kurrimya announces. "He doesn't even have the manners to stay focused on the threat at hand. Kill the Dealer-in-Names-- quickly," he tells his men. "Then kill anyone else you want-- especially that strange child-- and capture the rest. I'll deal with this fellow..."

Kurrimya runs toward Dim, his large bronze sword drawn...

His men start running toward Mum-Ra-Lud...

The refugees scream and run away in a scattered way, but mostly toward the south and southwest (since Kurrimya and his men are approaching from the northwest). The Old Child draws back between Dim and the wall...

Dim let the hammer slip lower, giving him a longer lever. The principles of leverage would make little sense to him if explained aloud (and would simply be chicken scratch if written down for him) but he had an instinctive understanding of what a longer grip on the handle of a warhammer was good for. Gripping the very end of the ironwood handle he swung at Kurrimya for all he was worth.

Dim rolled 8 using 2d6+1 ((1,6)).

Kurrimya realized, at the last second, that Dim's blow was not only going to be on-target, but that it was going to hurt, badly, if he didn't do something.

Kurrimya throws himself to the ground, as hard and fast as he can.

The hammer swings over him-- barely.

Kurrimya gets up again as quickly as he can, but there is a respect for his opponent in his eyes that is completely new. He realizes now that this is not going to be nearly as easy as he'd thought.

He assumes a defensive stance, waiting to see what Dim will do next. At least Dim's got him playing a defensive game-- but now he's not underestimating Dim anymore, either.

Five of Kurrimya's men realize that they don't want to try to get past Dim, and they hang back.

The other seven, however, have already gone far around Dim, and, not looking back, continue to head straight for Mum-Ra-Lud...

Knowing that there is no way under the sun that he can defend himself against all these armed and trained soldiers, he suddenly was filled with rage.

Stepping forward, thrusting his hands high in the most angry and imperious way he could, Mum-Ra-Lud made effort to look as imposing as he could.  His staff held high, he slammed the butt into the ground before him (between he and the hoard) and screamed,
"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

And in that moment, as the uncertain minions skidded to a halt in the dust, paused by their primal fear at what a NameDealer was said to be able to achieve, Mum-Ra-Lud pushed the social advantage he had.
"HOW DARE YOU DEFY THE LIVING SUN!
Shall but one of you advance another step, the living god of life itself will see that ye shall burn beneath his imperial face, every day hence for the rest of your lives!"

- rolled 10 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,6.  Coerce.
• You remain unharmed in the exchange.
• No other is harmed.

"Leave us.  NOW.   And lay not a hand upon any fleeing this city,
for fear that the very sun above, who grants you life and health,
turns against thee!"
He wasn't sure if he used enough upper-case ... or too many exclamation marks ...
But time would tell.

The next few combat rounds, in fact.

Kurrimya's men are VERY intimidated. They pause, standing there, not sure what to do next... But they're not quite so intimidated that they leave, either...

...Finally, they just turn to wait and see what will happen in the fight with their chief and Dim...

"You should be helping us!" Dim insisted, though he expected Kurrimya wasn't really listening. There was probably a better way to say it, too, but Dim wasn't good with words. Now the only question that remained was whether he was better with his hammer than Kurrimya was with his sword.

Sighing, he stepped towards Kurrimya and swung his hammer.

"I'm sorry, but I have to smush you now."

Dim rolled 7 using 2d6+1 ((1,5)).

--Test Yourself
• You are witnessed! You may take a free +1 to save for a future roll, and take followers from among the witnesses!

As Dim 'dealt with' the Kurrimya, and the gathered guards turned to watch the spectacle play out, Mum-Ra-Lud turned his attention to the refugees who were screaming and run away, mostly toward the south and southwest.

He called to them, "Stand, friends, and have faith in the Living Sun.
For he shall shine a light upon thy path, and lead you to salvation" ... hoping to re-rally them, and provide the organisation and leadership to keep them coherent as a group.


Using Talk to Offer what they desire:
using '• You may take a free +1 to save for a future roll' from earlier post: as they have already seen that Mum-Ra-Lud can 'find the way to safety'.
- rolled 10 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 3,6.  Talk +1.
• They give you what you ask.
• The agreement they have made with you will endure.


And as he did so, hoping that the refugees would trust in him, Mum-Ra-Lud offered his hand to the Old Child, who'd drawn back near the wall ...
"Come, we shall retreat to a safer location"

As they did so, he glanced back, and hoped that Dim could handle this man, and take control of the situation.
Perhaps, just perhaps, some of those soldiers might choose to join Dim and Mum-Ra-Lud ... providing a further modicum of protection for the fleeing refugees.
in the hope that 'take followers from among the witnesses' and Mum-Ra-Lud's own impressive speech may culminate in further allies.

The ensuing battle between Kurrimya and Dim is powerful-- artistic, even. Two masters of their given weapons, masters of the movements of their mighty bodies.

Dim, the unstoppable force.

Kurrimya, the unstrikable object.

Dim does not hit Kurrimya -- though he destroys a few nearby rocks and obliterates two sections of city wall.

And hard as Kurrimya strives, he cannot strike Dim-- he is forced to play a defensive game.

Until--

Kurrimya finally sees an opening, suddenly, and strikes.

(Dim takes a wound-- and it's more than just a flesh wound (although it's less than having a body part severed). Describe it, Dim.)

Kurrimya stops. "There was no shame in this battle," he says. "You have my respect. You are greater than I supposed. But you have lost, and I shall-- eh?"

In his concentration on the battle, Kurrimya (and his 12 men) did not notice that Mum-Ra-Lud has led the others to safety elsewhere.

"Hmph. You have lost one battle, but the Dealer-In-Names has subtly won another, made possible by your prowess. Impressive. You will have to do." Kurrimya gestures to his men. "Take him."

...But...

They do not move. All, to some degree or another, are in awe of Dim now.

Dim senses that their loyalty to Kurrimya is wavering-- that he might easily take one of them as a follower, now, if he wished-- possibly even more than one...

---

(Mum-Ra-Lud, describe the place of safety to which you lead the refugees, out of sight of Kurrimya and his 12 men.)

Mum-Ra-Lur had led the refugee herd down along the south wall, then into a deep gully that once had filtered waters away from the city foundations.   It was wide, and sloped, providing cover from observation and missile fire from the city ... but would allow anyone on the ridges above easy opportunities of attack.

He hurried the unwashed masses as quickly as he could, attempting to put as much distance between themselves and the city as possible.

The stab wound to the thigh had been a cheap shot, but effective. Dim went to one knee, and the fight was over. He'd lost. Sure, he could probably get back up and keep swinging, but his balance would be shot to hell. And he was losing blood. Kurrimya had the advantage now.

And he saw that, too. He started giving orders again, also declaring himself the victor... but his men were not so impressed. They stood fast, although some of them looked a bit uneasy about it. Others looked more resolute in their sudden inaction.

Dim used the warhammer like a crutch and drew himself back up to his feet. His knee buckled a bit, but he did not collapse.

"A cloth...?" he asked a couple of Kurrimya's men, and one surprisingly obliged. Dim tied it around his thigh, noting that two inches to one side would have made this a swiftly fatal wound. "Thanks."

He began to bind his wound.

"It looks like I won after all," Dim said to Kurrimya, not looking up from his work. There was no ego to the statement; it was just an observation. "...right?"

Kurrimya's face darkens a bit... he's getting angry, but he also recognizes that these are dangerous waters-- that the battle has changed to being one of personalities rather than of words. "I said, take him. Take him back into the city... or must I do it myself...?"

The men look at one another. "...I will take him into the city, Kurrimya..." says one man with a well-groomed beard... but the unspoken part of his message is clear: ...but I am only one man, and I cannot take such a mighty prisoner alone and guarantee his capture, wounded or not. And if I am the only man willing to help do so, it is only barely different from Kurrimya acting alone after all.

The other men are uneasy. They clearly wish they didn't have to pick a side, or in some cases, clearly wish they wouldn't have to face Kurrimya's potential wrath for choosing Dim's side.

The pause lasts too long. "...I see," says Kurrimya. "I will remember this. ...For now, then, Limzu and I shall escort the prisoner back to whatever may be left of the prison." He looks around him. "...Or do some of you propose to stop us?"

(Now might be a good time for Dim to attempt to say or do something useful, perhaps attempting to claim one or two of the men as followers of his own...?)

---

The deep gully definitely seems like a good safe place.

"Will you go back to try to help your friend?" Zula asks Mum-Ra-Lud. "I might attempt to look after the Old Child, if you go... or I could come with you, if you take her too, and I could watch over the Old Child..."

"Yes, what will you do?" the Old Child asks Mum-Ra-Lud. "Will you wait here, or go back? And also: do you know who I am?"

"That's a good question," Dim agreed enthusiastically. He really didn't know how to inspire followers, never really having had any before now. "Do any of you want to stop him? I'd consider it a great personal favor."

There. Using the word 'favor' like that was clever, right? Because he'd look upon his followers with favor?

"I'm sorry, but I really have to go now. I have important stuff to do now. Who here wants to help me?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:11, Thu 27 Aug 2020.

A man steps up to Dim. "Great one, I am Unakla," he says. "If you teach me of your ways, I will follow you and give my life." He addresses the others. "Stay back," he tells them. "Approach this man, and a death will occur-- and it will not be his."

(Dim, you have gained a follower, Unakla. Describe Unakla-- Stout? Thin and wiry? Huge? Shortish? How is he armed? Or is he some kind of bare-hands, no-weapons fighter?)

The other man draw back a step from Unakla and Dim. It's clear that at least one other is very tempted to join Unakla, if it weren't for Kurrimya standing right there...
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:25, Fri 28 Aug 2020.

"Unakla," Dim said, mostly to help himself remember the name for more than the next few minutes, "I thank you."

He regarded the man, who stood more than a head shorter than Dim. He was narrower of frame as well, with whipcord muscles in both arms and legs. Many a foe had probably been surprised by his strength or speed over the years, but maybe not surprised for very long. Unakla was armed with a pair of thin, wicked-looking knives, one on each side of his belt.

He and Dim were built very differently, but both had spent their lives being underestimated by others. Perhaps this was the reason Unakla had felt a kinship with Dim?

Dim turned to Kurrimya one last time.

"Maybe you should leave," he suggested. It might anger the man, but there was no way of knowing, and Dim really did have more important things to do than continue fighting. The best thing he could think of for the moment would be if Kurrimya found something else important for himself as well... like helping the people escape a city on fire. "Go... help someone."

"Indeed!" says Unakla to Kurrimya. "What is it you think you are doing by trying to arrest this man? Your job? Ever since you ceased to be a gladiator, when has your job ever been anything but what you felt like doing? Do you suddenly serve the leaders of Timinit after all? Those dogs? The city itself is not worthy of you, let alone them! Has Timinit corrupted you, Kurrimya, that you no longer know your own heart?"

Kurrimya blinks... thinks... Looks to his left, at the burning city...

He seems suddenly bored by the entire situation. Bored... and disgusted, perhaps? "Perhaps..." he says... "...Perhaps I should go back into the city before it is too late... Find the city leaders... make sure that they have perished in the fire. Perhaps what the city of Timinit needs is new leadership."

He looks back at Dim. "If I ever see you again, we shall battle once more... It will go much worse for you next time. The same goes for you, Unakla. The rest of you..." Kurrimya seems suddenly weary. "Do your jobs, securing peace in the city, or leave it. If you leave, don't come back."

He enters the burning city again.

Six of the men follow him.

Four wander off-- west, northwest, north.

One other remains. "Warrior, I am called Matkal. I am not so ready as Unakla to follow you... But I, too, would know more of your ways, so I shall observe what happens next... What will you do now?"

Next? That was a good question.

"I travel with a man called Mum-Ra-Lud. He has been helping the refugees make it to safety. I must rejoin them, and make sure they stay safe."

Among the refugees were any number of escaped slaves. They would need protection from Timinit forces, perhaps, as well as guarding along whatever road they would come to travel. Slaves often didn't know how to fend entirely for themselves, because they'd never been in a position to do so. So they would need someone watching over them while they found a new place to settle as free men and women.

How much of this did Dim understand? Well, not much. But he knew that the slaves had no weapons and no skills at using them. He knew there might be pursuit from Timinit, or slave-hunters along the road.

"Some people have called me a Hero. I don't know that I am, but I know that a strong man should protect the weak."

Matkal and Unakla are both impressed by Dim's words. "'A strong man should protect the weak...' Truly, Timinit did not deserve leadership such as you," says Unakla.

"It did not deserve the leaders it had, either," says Matkal. "...Time shall reveal see what Kurrimya might make of it..." Matkal adds with vague concern, looking over at the burning city...

"I think they headed this way..." says Unakla, studying the ground. "Come, Matkal, let us see if we can track them..."

The two men took turns-- one aiding Dim in walking, one tracking the refugees... then they would switch.

Soon, word reached Mum-Ra-Lud that Dim was coming, with two other men...

Mum-Ra-Lud looked around, and spotted a small, safe-ish corral in the stonewalled canyon not far away.

“Take the people over there,” he asked Zula, and guided the Old-child’s hand into hers, “I’ll return soon with Dim”.

“EVERYONE FOLLOW ZULA”, he called.
And once he felt that direction was being followed, he turned his feet and attention back towards where he intended to cross paths with Dim.


Once in sight, he validated the trio, and was comfortable that he could approach.
“Dim, what happened?  Are you ok?”

"I have a big hole in my leg that needs a healer," Dim replied, gesturing to the bandage, which was now suffused with blood. The wound was still bleeding, probably because he was still walking around with it. He gestured to the two city guards... or was that former guards? "These are Matkal and Unakla.They have agreed to follow me and help us with the refugees.

"Isn't that great?"

“It truly is.  Come, down here we are”, and led the way back to the gathered refugees.