Although he could not hear it, the blow is enough to snap Urvan's teeth together hard and to turn his head sharply. He would feel it dearly in the morning and it would undoubtedly leave a mark, but with the potent cocktail of chemicals surging through his blood it is just a sort of dull thud to his mind.

This blood sings now, a deep and primal song that urges the boy along.

A step, a circle, a lead with his left that the man draws away from, but too slowly to avoid the right that follows.

Although his fist is smaller than the mans, Urvan drives it up in a brutal hook that connects just in front of the mans left ear.

The sound of bone on bone echoes against the perimeter wall in a sudden clack, and even through the adrenaline Urvan feels something in his hand that seems wrong, but the savage joy he experiences at the sensation floods all of the other dull emotions. It feels better than anything he has ever known, and he really, really wants to do it again...

HP: 7/13
AC: 17
Adrenaline Rush Round: 2/5

19:04, Today: Secret Roll: Urvan Kron rolled 10 using 1d6+5.  Non Lethal Damage.

19:04, Today: Secret Roll: Urvan Kron rolled 10,18 using 1d20+5,1d20+5.  Flurry of Blows 1&2, Non Lethal.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:17, Tue 05 Apr 2022.

21:45, Today: Zag, for the NPC Caiaphas, rolled 13,5 using d20+5,d3+2

The way Caiaphas rolls with the punishing blow that Urvan delivered makes the boy realize that he isn't dealing with a complete amateur.  His head snapped, but it wasn't the knock-out blow that Urvan was hoping.  The big man turns back and spits out some blood.  He looks surprised, but the blow doesn't seem to have dulled his anger at all.

He closes again with the boy, but perhaps his concern for the speed of the boy's fists has taken the edge off, because his punch meets only air.

BTW, he is AC 15:  Hide armor and one point of dex bonus.

7/13 hit points; 4 of the 6 points are non-lethal.
Caiaphas has taken 15 non-lethal damage.

As the moments wear on under the glossy eyes of the watching soldiers, the boys movements become more sure, his stance more consistent, his blows faster and stiffer.

It is a familiar stance in many ways and one that at least a few of the soldiers recognize from experience or the Games, Pankration, left arm nearly fully extended with the palm out, the right arm crooked, the left foot far forward and the vulnerable mid section sucked in to almost form a "C" shape.

Urvan's mind and muscles alike remembers as he fights, a hundred little subconscious corrections passed down over the years. The man is an adult, armored and tough, and Urvan is quickly disabused of any boyhood fantasies of knocking out a soldier with one blow.

But that does not mean he stops.

As the mans clenched fist passes a hairs breath from his head, Urvan steps in, his reach inferior, the height difference pronounced. The left, which has been ineffective up till now finally finds its range and Urvans fist smashes into the mans nose with a muffled pop at full extension. In an instant, as the man recoils the boy is on him with the right, catching the depression of the eye socket with an ugly sound.

At the full tide of his adrenaline rush, the boy is still moving eagerly, but how much longer can he realistically maintain such a feverish pace?

HP: 7/13
AC: 17
Adrenaline Rush Round: 3/5

20:04, Today: Secret Roll: Urvan Kron rolled 7,9 using 1d6+5,1d6+5.  Non Lethal Damage.

20:03, Today: Secret Roll: Urvan Kron rolled 15,16 using 1d20+6,1d20+6.  Flurry of Blows 1&2, Non Lethal.

Urvan pops Caiaphas with a stinging left jab, then, as the big man staggers back, Urvan follows through with a devastating right and the soldier goes down.  Several of the other soldiers stand in awe at the speed and hammer strength of the boy's blows, especially those who have lost fights in the past to the hotheaded man.  A couple dart in, ready to stop Urvan from taking advantage of the man's defenseless state, but there is no need.  The boy does not move in for the kill; he only stands back, panting and looking around with an edge of wildness.

After a few moments of silence, the man who originally invited Urvan to "'ave a snootful" lets out a whoop and a cheer.  "Goo' on you, lad!  Yeh han'led 'im righ' and propeh.  Wash yer name, lad?"  The ice broken, several other man give a cheer and once again Urvan suffers the back patting which seems likely to loosen a rib or two.

As the congratulations subsides, someone pours a bucket of water on Caiaphas, who sits up and shakes his head a few times.  "By Ares, boy," he manages to stammer out, but then pauses for several seconds before continuing with a sardonic grin.  "I hope that'll learn ye not to waste good drink," which draws a laugh from the others.  He gets up slowly, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his head and holds his hand out to the boy for a handshake.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:36, Tue 05 Apr 2022.

Urvan, looking half feral for a few moments as his mind caught up with what had just happened, calms as his strength ebbs, the adrenaline burning out and leaving him feeling weak, shaky and a little sick.

Then, the cheering seems to start. Looking around Urvan is jostled and celebrated as the boy looks on a little surprised at everything that had just happened, a full throbbing ache begins to make itself known in his right hand as the first soldier asks his name.

"Urvan sir, I'm...the new Page" he answers a bit bewildered. "From Laconia" he added as a bit of explanation, remembering his cover but scrambling a bit for his assumed County.

Urvan finally manages to crack a smile at the joke, and he goes to shake Caiaphas's hand, wincing a little as something shifts painfully there as the man squeezes it. "I'll remember that sir." He assures him with a nod, breathing heavily, the smile faltering a little with the pain and adding to the general levity of the gathering.

As the minutes past and Urvan began to catch his breath, he eventually turns to one of the friendlier guards and asks. "What's it like? Being a Guard at the Palace? Have you ever met the Queen?" He asks somewhat innocently as he sits around the fire, the shadows of the flames flickering on his face.

"Hah!" the man snorts, "Do we loo' like 'mperial Guard to you?  No, lad, none o' this lot 'as ever met the Queen."  After a second, he looks around suddenly and adds, "Long may she reign."

As the man answers, Urvan is stunned at how incredibly hungry he is.  He has felt this before, where a sudden important physical stress has given him strength beyond his normal, but then he is exhausted and terribly hungry afterwards.  He feels that if he doesn't get some high-energy food into him soon, he might faint.  He's not sure that this is a normal thing, so he doesn't mention it, but he is eagerly looking around for a bite of anything, and is prepared to pay all his pocket change for it.  However, this little party seems to be for drinking only.

Urvan tries to focus, to remain upbeat, greatly enjoying the aftermath of the fight and of being able to socialize with the soldiers almost like an adult, like an equal, but the nausea is getting worse, and he is starting to feel more shaky.

"I'm starving." He admits "And I need to get up early, but, uh, thanks for the drink." He says, trying to mimic the others soldiers a bit. It sounds like something they would say, or so he thinks.

He gives one last look at the amused soldiers talking amongst themselves and discussing the fight, before he scampers back off in the direction of the kitchens.

As he moves away from the warmth of the fire and the excitement of it all, the pain starts to get worse in his jaw and hand, but he puts it aside for now, his hunger starting to become to most pressing sensation among the whole mix of exciting thoughts.

Urvan returns to the kitchen.  Although the dinner has been over for a while, the party is still going on in the Great Hall, which means that the kitchen is still being manned.  All that is left to go out are the foods that people nibble with their wine or their ale:  sweets for some, crackers and pickles for others.

Urvan asks politely for something to eat, and the assistant cook just shakes his head and laughs about growing boys.  He hands Urvan a turkey leg that it looks like someone has taken a few bites out of, a slightly burnt crust of bread, and a platter that once had mounds of cheese, olives, and pickles, and still has quite a few good pieces left.  The boy devours it all and feels much better.  He doesn't even notice the ache in his jaw and his one slightly loose tooth until he is scraping at the bone for any morsels he might have missed.

His benefactor holds out a bucket filled with garbage scraped off the incoming plates, and Urvan dutifully puts his cleaned turkey bone into it.  The cook then gestures the bucket towards him and eyes the door outside and the boy gets the message: he has to work for his extra supper.

Exhausted as he is, Urvan is in no mood for additional chores. However realizing that the cool very easily could have denied him outright he swallows his pride and his pain to begin taking out the evenings collection of garbage to the midden.

When the cook is satisfied, Urvan trudges back to his room to see if it is a good time to report in with Iwo, desiring little more than to climb in to bed and sleep after the evenings events.

You've actually perked up, now that you've eaten; in other words, you're back to normal stats.  It's still only mid-late-evening, say 9:00 - 9:30pm, if you want to go back to your earlier plans.  It's too early to visit Iwo via the secret passage, because there will be too much activity in the Pages' dorm.  You could manufacture a "message" that you need to carry to his room, but there's no guarantee he'll be there.  We can assume that you saw him at the dinner party when you carried food in there, and he very well might still be there.  OTOH, you're going to want some good, full nights' of sleep, since I'm sure you want to get those hit points back.

Urvan briefly considers trying to push himself into heading back out, but with everything that had gone on he decides to climb into bed early to catch up on some much needed rest.

He decides it will also not hurt his cover to be seen turning in early by the other Pages, given how much time he has spent on his own affairs over the last few days.

He decides that he will try to wake up early, or late rather in order to report in with Iwo if he can manage to avoid sleeping through the night.

I didn't know what to roll for the ability to wake up early intentionally, so I decided it was a survival roll.  It makes sense to me, anyway, and it's an under-used skill otherwise.  There's actually a trick to waking up early -- I guess I'll have Iwo tell you.
23:10, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Survival roll to wake up early.

Urvan drops into his bed and becomes completely unconscious, in a healing sleep, for about 6 hours.  When he awakes, his jaw, his head, and his muscles ache, but it is more the echo of the pain and not actually debilitating.  Only his fingers, where the rats bit him, still hurt.  They are turning red and are a little hot.

The boy slips out of bed and walks out into the central area between the two pages' dorms.  He slips into the closet and through the secret door, then waits to be sure he has not been observed.  Finally he makes his way to Iwo's room.  As usual, Iwo is at the door, ready, when he knocks lightly.

"Well, you've had a busy night," Iwo says, without any sort of greeting.  "I heard you came into the kitchen spitting blood, and with more blood on your knuckles."  He takes the boy's hands and inspects them.  "But I didn't hear about any fights among the pages.  I assume some of the soldiers outside?  By Mars, why were you fighting with them?"  He drags Urvan to a cupboard where he pulls out a salve to put on the rat bites.

After Urvan explains the circumstances, Iwo nods and smiles.  "Good, good.  This is how they make friends, and they are good friends to have.  Learn their names, bring them a bottle now and then, and they will be loyal and reliable.  You can take them stuff the winemaster is ready to throw away, they will love it.  Tell them you stole it, and they'll be even more grateful to you."

Urvan starts to report on his progress with the hounds, reading the book and learning so much, but Iwo waves him off.  "For this task, I do not want partial reports.  Let me know when you are ready."  The boy reports on the rats, and Iwo nods and murmurs something that sounds vaguely like, "good work."

Finally, Urvan proudly explains how to was able to wake himself up to come here in the middle of the night, but Iwo shakes his head.  "It worked this time, boy, but it is not reliable.  If you ever have to be sure to wake yourself up after a few hours sleep, drink a lot of water, as much as your belly will hold, before you lie down.  Your bladder will wake you up.  This works every time, as long as you aren't drunk.  If you're drunk, you'll just piss your bed."

Using this trick will get you +4 on the survival roll for that purpose only, AND it will allow you to take a 10, so it will be guaranteed unless you need quarter-hour precision.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:41, Thu 07 Apr 2022.

Urvan had come to Iwo nearly brimming over with pride at having bested a grown man, a solider, with his bare hands. His Father would have been proud, he knew it in his heart, but Iwo was nearly all he had now and he had hoped on some subconscious level for paternal approval.

But the older man almost seems to take it in stride, he had rolled right in on how to capitalize on the victory without pausing to mark the victory itself. This makes Urvan feel like he is missing something, like Iwo iss really several turns ahead in the chessboard of their life at the Palace.

These thoughts occupy his mind, and in doing so keep him from speaking very much in turn. He nods along and looks pensive as Iwo dresses his wounds, trying to absorb it all, trying to grasp the bigger picture.

The trick about waking up early though, that's a useful one...

"Really?" he asks, looking up at the man with a curious expression. "I don't think I ever would have thought of that."

His wounds dressed, his report delivered, Urvan thanks Iwo for looking after his bites and promises to report in when the task with Leila and the Appolo Hounds in done before he takes his leave.

Urvan plans to return to the Pages quarters and to get some sleep. He knows what the hounds eat and when they are fed, and he knows roughly which building the boy who works in the kennels lives in. The next phase of his plan is to find out which room in particular the boy resides, and then to steal some of his clothing to mask his own scent. With the boys clothing and some similar food from the kitchen, he feels that he would be ready to try out his first contact with getting into the kennels themselves to find Leila.

Urvan makes his way back to the dorm and sleeps the rest of the night.  The following morning, he and Gerro have matching bruised faces.  The younger boy keeps asking what happened, but Urvan ...  (Please fill in, here.)

After a couple hours of very visibly doing page duty, Urvan takes a break to investigate the building where he saw the dog boy enter.  The door is locked.  Moving around the building to the east, he sees a couple of windows that look like they have a fairly sheer curtain over them.  If he gets up close, he could probably peer through them.

Urvan simply shrugs when asked about his bruises, his laconic nature lending a certain consistency to the gesture in his own mind. He wonders if some of the pages will put two and two together if the soldier he had fought with the night before is still present on the Palace grounds, but he does not give it a lot of thought.

He checks the bites on his fingers a few times throughout the morning, worried perhaps that the infection might take hold.

Later in the day, after he has participated in the exercises, mucked the stables, cleaned saddles, tack and taken some damaged sparing equipment to the smithy, Urvan finds the time to sneak over to check on the presumed domicile of the Kennels boy.

Discreetly, he peeks in, trying to peer past the gauzy covering to get a look at what lay beyond.

21:04, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Perception: See through window covering.

Well, here I am, up at 5:00 am on a Sunday because I've been coughing my lungs out.  I might as well check in on my game.
The roll I was looking for was stealth, not perception, but since you have the same ability in both, I'll just use that one.

I'm not sure how perception is supposed to work when you are sneaking up on multiple people.  I'm thinking that they each get a roll, but they also get a penalty because there are two of them so they hear each other and aren't really listening for anything outside.

05:20, Today: Zag, for the NPC Lady Stilwell, rolled 16,12 using d20+1,d20+3.  Lady Stilwell, Sir Stilwell, perception.

Urvan, moving silently along the side of the building, approaches the window and hears voices over the slight breeze that makes the curtains wave.  A woman says, "I'm going to head back over.  The bitch is showing nesting behavior already, which is a little early, I think.  I'm going to try to calm her down."

As the boy reaches the window, a man replies, "OK.  I'm fine here.  Send Radgel back if you don't need him.  Anyway, Carm will be by in a bit if I need anything."  Urvan peeks in and can see the man is sitting in a padded chair, a blanket over his lap.  There are crutches leaning against the chair where he could reach them.  The woman walks out the door that Urvan was standing beside only moments ago.  The man picks up some pipes and starts playing them.  The tune is barely recognizable, but he is not very good.

Urvan pulls back when it becomes evident that he would likely not see or hear anything more from the older man, and his mind goes to work mulling over what he has just learned.

He had two names now, Radgel and Carm. Are they all related? Do they all reside here together? Does the older crippled man ever leave? And if so how often?

Where do the younger ones sleep? And how often do they do their washing? All of these thoughts and others flit through his mind.

What he does know is that Carm is expected back soon, he can at least put a name to a face. Perhaps he might learn something more.

Urvan spots for a safer, more distant location to watch Carm's approach, content for now to simply identify who is who and to learn more about this building, the people that live within it and their habits.

14:27, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 5 using 1d20.  Luck roll.  You need an 18 for stupid luck
If it was 18+, you would have recognized the visitor from your adventure last night.

BTW, I meant to mention this before, but while cleaning tack is an appropriate task for you, at least tack of one of the knights, mucking out stalls is not.  There are stableboys for that, and they are not members of the nobility (as most pages are, and as you are pretending to be).  The fact that Lady Stilwell told you to clean up poop a couple of nights ago was intended to say something about her and her disdain for lads who seem to be loafing.

Urvan sets up one of the knight's tack on the trestle and pulls the trestle out into the sun, where he also will be able to watch the building.  After almost an hour, a soldier walks up to the door, knocks, and walks in.

The plot thickens as Urvan rubs a bit of soap onto the old and well worn leather, scrubbing at the saddle and occasionally glancing up to geta look at the soldier.

A white family then? Lady Stillwell, a husband or father that seems home bound, an older son and a younger son? It was his first guess, but the presence of a fit, armed man in the home had the potential to alter his plans.

Urvan notes the time with a glance to the sun and wonders if the soldier will leave before anybody else decides to come along. With only the crippled older man in the home, it could be an opportune chance to get in and out without anybody being the wiser.

After about half an hour, the soldier leaves again.  No one else has come by.

Just before noon on Hermes Day (Wednesday)

There comes a time when an actor must be bold.

Urvan could only learn so much by observation, and although he would not consider it himself his skillsets lent themselves more towards the physical than the social. He was just as likely to give himself away and to draw suspicion talking to people as he was to learn anything valuable.

Evening guaranteed than everybody would be together, sleeping, and would not help his goal, stealing clothing items to mask his scent.

So, with only the older man at home, Urvan decides to strike while the iron is hot and to try to enter the home for a very brief raid, to find some used clothing from the boy or Lady Stilwell, and to retire. Ideally less than a minute at risk.

Steeling himself, and leaving the saddle on its rack as an excuse should he be caught, Urvan endeavors to sneak into the home, casting a wary look around himself before approaching and trying the front door.

10:04, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 20 using 1d20+6.  Stealth.

I guess I'm not sure what you're hoping will happen, here.  He is sitting in the room that the door opens into, so there will be a penalty of -10 stealth to get by him.  Also, I realize that I should have given you a better description of the room:  you would have seen that there is a door into another room.  So I'm just going to assume you went to look there.

Urvan walks up to the apartment where the dog family lives and considers his options.  Visualizing the quick glance he saw through the window, he remembers that there was a door to another room.  Perhaps that room also has a window.  Walking without a sound around the east end of the building, he glances in the window and sees the old man, who is sitting in his chair and fingering his pipes as if he were playing, but not playing them.

With a shrug, the lad continues to the next window to see closed shutters.  He briefly laments his lack of lock-picking skills like Gerro seems to have acquired.  After all, I'm supposed to be training in skullduggery.  I should learn this.  However, he realizes that the shutters are only closed with a simple latch to keep them from blowing in the wind.  Reaching up under them, he easily undoes the latch and quietly opens them to see a bedroom, incredibly neat, with the bed made perfectly and everything in its place.  Climbing in, he looks for any clothes of the boy's that he might take.



Besides the bed, which is designed to accommodate two people, there is a chest of drawers, a wicker basket with a wicker lid, a nightstand with a bowl and a ewer beside it, and a chamberpot under the bed.  On the wall is a display with military honors, including a major's insignia, and a sword rack holding a quality sabre.  Beside that is a rack with two towels that are hanging perfectly squared up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:28, Tue 12 Apr 2022.

Urvan is mildly surprised at the military display and honors, taking a very brief moment to appreciate the elegance of the arrangement before he is again moving, checking the wicker basket first and foremost for any sign of the worn garments he is after.

In the wicker basket is the outfit that Lady Stilwell was wearing the other night, plus some man's clothes and some smallclothes.  With little experience in them, he isn't sure how to tell men's smallclothes from women's.  He doesn't see anything that looks small enough to fit the boy.

Urvan, his heart racing at prospect of being caught, and the punishment that would surely follow, takes what he can while he can. Lady Stilwell's outfit is the real prize, but he takes a few of the small clothes as well, wraps them all in the largest article of clothing and closes the bin in a fashion that would hopefully not invite inspection.

From what he has read, Apollo's and dogs in general rely heavily upon scent. With the odors of their master, their "Alpha" in his possession, he dearly hoped that they would be more hesitant to challenge or even attack him. They were bred and trained for protection and war after all.

With his bundle he carefully tries leave the way he came, intending to close the window as he had found it and then to take his prize back over to the tack, where he could camouflage it in a  bucket to take back to his room.

With the clothing in hand, that would leave only the task of obtaining the specific food before he would feel comfortable attempting a first meeting.