Once you are both done with leveling up, please post here what your character has been doing for the past couple of years.  Within a couple of months you were able to take your respective pets into your care, so you should comment on how that has affected your living arrangements.  Feel free to put any special abilities in a private section -- we'll be making liberal use of them in this thread.  If there is anything you want to say about your special heritage, then certainly put that in a private section.

Obviously, you both know who the spymaster is for the other faction, but I'll expect you to role-play that you don't.  This isn't something generally known.

Urvan, you will likely be moved into the senior pages' quarters, being bigger than most of the others.  We'll assume that someone graduated out rather than was moved down.

Scarlet, you're still a little young to move out of your mother's quarters, but you could probably arrange it if you want to.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:55, Sun 31 July 2022.

The years passed...

Urvan of Tamacia, in reality the orphaned Urvan Kron, became a familiar face on the grounds of the Palace and among the servants of House Lexagenol.

Although he attended to his duties, mostly in service to the Knights of the House, there were a few factors that held him apart from the other Pages and Squires.

The first and most obvious was his physicality. Although only fourteen years of age the boy possessed a hulking build. He was larger than some of the smaller Knights, and outweighed some of the other pages by fifty pounds or more. The other boys would sometimes lie awake at night as Urvan tossed and turned and groaned in pain, his growth almost unnatural and the associated growing pains agonizing at times. He had pronounced and unsightly stretch marks along his inner thighs, under his arms and down his back where his pale flesh strained at his growing bulk.

Those who shared quarters with him had always noted his out of proportion ribcage, the way his latissimus muscles had been creeping up his neck to an almost ludicrous degree, and the way he ate voraciously, easily consuming an entire chicken every evening if he was given the chance.

Most chalked it up to his supposed Spartan heritage, but some privately wondered, and some avoided training with him at all.

Another obvious trait that set him apart was Boreas, the Apollo Hound gifted to him by the Queen some years back.

Boreas was a somewhat clumsy and enthusiastic dog, ridiculous in proportion, social and affectionate in most settings, but fiercely loyal. Urvan has his side of the quarters and Boreas would brook no approach while the two were in for the night. Even an errant step by a Page getting up late for a drink of water, or to relieve himself, would be met by the hefty brute madly scrambling to his feet in order to investigate the "unusual" disturbance, and some of the boys cursed the animal openly for its overbearing vigilance.

It moped whenever it was apart from Urvan, and had once lept from a second story window, badly spraining a leg, in order to join him.

Overall, day to day, Urvan was not especially well liked, but it could be said that he was respected. He did not chase girls like the other boys (although he admired them from afar), and he did not enjoy drinking. His laconic personality was somewhat dull at parties and his sense of humor, when it rarely presented itself, was too dry for some. It was also not fun to train with him, as although he was not overly brutal in practice, he did not let the other pages win either, which was as frustrating as it was predictable.

The Knights too whispered about him at times. The story of what had happened with Caiaphas had made the rounds and it was enough to puzzle some of the experienced men, it just didn't add up that a boy, barely twelve, would stand any chance at all against a full grown man, armored and fairly fit, very drunk though he was.

He didn't boast like the other pages, he did not bandy insults or show up to training hung over. At the same time Urvan, as a page, was not especially talented at many of the Knightly skills. He was mediocre in the saddle, a very basic swordsman, unimpressive with a lance and  not especially brilliant with his tactics. The boys feared him, but they did not look up to him, so his leadership abilities were not very promising.

"If you make a fortune at all, it will be in ransoms" one of the older knights had joked one day. Even at 14 Urvan could bodily pull an armored man from his horse, rip a helmet off right through the straps or break an arm, but that would be of limited utility on a real battlefield. Privately some of the Knights avoided training with him. Nobody wanted to be knocked down and pinned by a boy in view of the others after all, even if it was Urvan.

The boy was a character, a quiet, odd sort of character. He had something about him, his pale and pronounced musculature, the way he moved, that look in his eyes. It gave some pause, almost seemed to fascinate others, and set him apart from his peers, much to the chagrin of some who had his best interests in mind.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:55, Sun 31 July 2022.

The sudden downfall of Alyssa of Travis was a shock in the small, insular world of teenage courtiers. Whatever the political ramifications were for the grown ups, whatever the consequences of the brusque way in which her marriage prospects with the son of the Count had sunk, the shockwaves were stronger in that small, parallel court that was the teenage clique of Castle Moresby.

The second shock was the brazen way in which Scarlet d'Ardelle stepped into that power vacuum. Within a month of Alyssa's vanishing for parts unknown, her former toadies (and Scarlett's recent bullies) were following her around, laughing at her jokes and humoring her. Whether they really bowed to her charisma or they were just scared was anybody's guess.

And Scarlet didn't care.

Her sudden rise was not without a certain violence of its own. Drizella was officially renamed Noboobella and recklessly bullied until she cried at the mere sight of the new, crownless queen of teenage Moresby. The others knew how to toe the line, for Scarlet didn't just have a sharper tongue and more vicious streak than her predecessor; there was also a dark aura about her, nothing concrete, but whispered rumours about the way in which Alyssa had been disgraced discouraged any questioning of Scarlet's new position.

Scarlet became a regular at master Usuul's fencing lessons. The exercise was a welcome way to burn excess energy, the accumulation of pent-up frustrations and unexpended energy within her. A few maids joined too, anxious to imitate her in what had previously seen as a contemptible tomboyish extravagance. She grew more agile and faster of reflexes, just as her body was finally growing into more feminine curves.

Whatever Anne d'Ardelle's opinion on all those changes was, Scarlet was paying no attention to. With her newfound power came a more vocal opposition to Mother's whims and despotisms. Scarlet started openly ignoring her orders and publically gainsaying her. She felt like her own woman, finally, no longer bound to her outdated, gauche opinions. She listened to Tigris' meows more than to Mother's yadda yadda.

As she looked at herself in the mirror, Scarlet could for the first time in her short years smile at her reflection and admit that she was coming into her own...
This message was last edited by the player at 12:44, Tue 02 Aug 2022.

A large feast and celebration is planned for the event, in spite of rumors of the Gauls to the north arming and collecting on the border, compounding the usual problem of the Persian Army to the east.  These concerns are not enough to prevent the important work of celebrating.

Within Moresby Castle, preparations start months ahead.  The people traveling, their servants, their necessary baggage (which means more servants), their horses, carts, and oxen (which means more servants) all have to travel to Olympia.  The coordination is worthy of a major military offensive.

Among these preparations is a question of who will care for the Duchess' Savannah cats.  Sir Fishbacher's health has never been strong and seems to be failing; he has requested remaining behind to care for the cats that will not travel.  His assistant, Lavaleen, seem the next most obvious choice, but in the chaos of preparations she suffers an accident that breaks her leg badly.  The accident was not life-threatening, but it makes travel difficult.  No one has seriously considered the other assistant, Erikus.  Finally, the Duchess comes up with the brilliant idea of asking Scarlet Fitzbarton d'Ardelle to take on the responsibility.  She seems to have an affinity for the animals, raising one of her own, she is presentable, and she seems to have adequate knowledge. 

---

Within the Palace, there have been some changes over the past two years.  First, the tradition of having the pages wear only togas was eliminated.  The quaint custom was first ridiculed by a jester, which would have had no effect until the queen made the comment that it did seem a little foolish and the practice was instantly abolished.  Some of the pages were pleased with the change, while others worried about the cost of providing their own clothing.

Every spare room in the palace is being repurposed for guests.  The knights who live in the palace are being pushed out to the barracks, and the soldiers living in the barracks are pushed out to tents which crowd the compound and the space around it.  The pages are being forced to double up, all of them crammed into what used to be the younger pages' quarters, and guests are being housed in the older pages' quarters.  Meanwhile, the workload on the pages has increased.  As guests arrive, they all want to send messages to people they hope to meet, and all the knights are insisting that their armor and tack receive special attention from the squires, who in turn have no problem bossing around the pages.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:52, Tue 02 Aug 2022.

Even Urvan was starting to feel it.

His fingers had been worn raw with all the polishing, sharpening, scrubbing and filing over the past week or so, and there were stains under his fingernails from a bit of leather dye that had seeped through his gloves the day before.

Boreas, who now weighed well over 200lbs, had been crammed into the double bunked pages quarters with the rest of them and had been terrorizing some of the new boys who had made the mistake of becoming overly familiar with the somewhat protective canine.

But the first day of the games was coming soon and the excitement about the Palace was palpable.

This excitement was tempered somewhat by the sheet number of strangers coming and going in the corridors and the chance that some well meaning local might try to introduce him to someone that he, or his family, should know.

Thankfully, most seemed concerned with the more practical aspects of the Games rather than the parentage of a humble page, a little odd looking though he may be.

Urvan was by no means immune from the excitement and he too had his favorites and certain individuals that he planned on watching closely over the coming days, and their close confines were a little more tolerable with all the gossip and insider information that they shared each evening before lights out.

...And naturally, with Scarlet being in charge of such an honor, how could her noble Mother not be invited?

Scarlet almost prevents it, almost: but at the last minute she considers it can be better to let mum come along only to show off and ignore her to "tend to her duties". Letting her stay at home and stew would be satisfying, but it will be even more fun to have her attend and bite her nails because she can´t boss her around any more.

17:11, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 27,14 using d20+9,d20+9.  Meeting Dearest's cats, Male, female.
18:11, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 19 using 1d20+9.  Meeting Archon.

Dearest's two cats are a large older (15 years) tom named Gatópardos and a 5-year-old queen named Kompsótita.  The male is the largest cat she has ever seen, a good two inches taller than Tigris.  Scarlet sprinkles a bit of catnip on her hands before approaching him, but, he turns out to be a big snuggler, rubbing his face on her hands and gladly submitting for scratches.  The female is a little more standoffish, but Scarlet has learned not to crowd her and let her come around on her own, so there's no confrontation.

Scarlet watches Sir Fischbacher put the Duchess's two cats into comfortable cages in one of the large wagons, and Erikus into the wagon to ride with them.  Scarlet is a little surprised to see how large he has grown in the past two years.  Where he was in inch or so shorter than Scarlet when they first met, he is now at least 4 inches taller.  His mother hovers nearby, no doubt neglecting her duties.  She sees Scarlet and ... 

There are two other cages provided, one for Tigris and one for another cat which will be travelling: Archon, a big, healthy tom belonging to Sir Heger Ledath, a devilishly handsome, powerfully built man who is rumored to be a favorite for overall winner in the Games.  When Scarlet meets Sir Ledath and Archon, the man is quite friendly, with a big smile and a great laugh.  The cat is cool to her, but not unfriendly.  He leaps into the cage at Scarlet's command and settles down easily.

As they travel, Scarlet realizes that she can keep up with the baggage train with an easy walk-trot regimen.  She knows that the cats will need exercise, but will not be interested in walking the whole way.  So she takes each cat in turn for a half-hour exercise.  Erikus is happy to put the harnesses on the cats for her (of course, Tigris does not need one), but he just looks terrified and refuses to leave the cart when she suggests it.  She soon learns how exhausting two full hours of a walk-trot regimen can be.

On the first night, Scarlet gets some supper for herself and then looks for Erikus for help feeding and bedding down the cats.  She finally finds him, still hiding in the wagon even though the cats' cages were unloaded and moved into a tent nearby more than an hour ago.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:49, Fri 05 Aug 2022.

19:36, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Perception

With the early guests arriving, Urvan has been very busy.  He has been discouraged from bringing Boreas along in his page duties, though it is not exactly forbidden, so he has taken the political path of locking the hound in the Pages' quarters.  Boreas becomes restless and nervous locked up for any length of time, so Urvan has to take multiple breaks from his work to bring the big dog out for a run.  Although Gerro is the only other page who has warmed up to Boreas, Urvan has found that many of the soldiers, especially his friend Caiaphas, delight in the power and presence of the dog.  He has caught more than one of the men slipping the beast a sausage or a bit of chicken.

Urvan is standing in the main hall, waiting for any request, when a contingent from the temple arrives.  They are here to bless the grounds where the games will be played in another few days time.  Of course, the arena is outside the palace compound, but they are still expected to come to pay their respects.  Among the contingent is a face that Urvan saw only once, but is indelibly burned into his memory: Erastoo, the heavily tattooed high priestess of Hera and the leader of the Purifiers.  She is met by Gratham, the sham of a priest who once punched Gerro, and they talk for a moment.  Then Gratham waves over a page, an older boy called Talaiporía, and asks a question which Urvan can't make out.  In response, Talaiporía looks around, then points directly at Urvan before his hand is pulled down again by Erastoo.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:59, Thu 04 Aug 2022.

Urvan was well aware that there were more than a few people sneaking Boreas treats, he had grown especially chunky over the last few months, but Urvan had been so busy that there was little he could do about it.

When the delegation from the Temple arrived, Urvan was of course on hand to give directions, very luggage and to generally make himself useful.

However when Talaiporía pointed him out in particular, it was all he could do to not freeze in place. His heart suddenly lurched and he felt a cold sweat break out on his brow as he suddenly found something to do that would allow him to leave the room, perhaps not as subtle as he would have preferred, but the entire meeting had been unexpected and it was all he could do to not bolt like a startled deer.

Nothing more happens at the moment for you to react to.  Presumably, you'll be called on to run an errand of some sort.  The next obvious step would be to ask Talaiporía what that was about, but I didn't want to presume you did that or if you wanted to stage or to arrange the meeting somehow.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:09, Thu 04 Aug 2022.

Scarlet suppresses a smile of inner satisfaction as both cats react positively towards her. This has to be a significant triumph, handling the Duchess' own with such ease! Of course, she is only rehashing and adapting what she has learned from Erikus; had the boy any practical wits beyond rote memorization, he might have had a shot at acquiring some fame and status for himself and his mother using these very same skills Scarlet has gleaned from him. But no, luckily for her and unluckily for him, he is a dove and she a hawk.

I find myself (perversely) wanting Scarlet to be super dismissive towards Erikus, the poor boy. Let's try to tone it down:

And Scarlet knows this is, to some degree at least, not lost on Erikus' mother. She watches his son carefully, and Scarlet hasn't forgotten her plea not to damage him, two years ago. And while truthfully she hasn't, for he is no worse off than when they met, he is also no better off, his knowledge and skills just another tool for Scarlet's rise. Scarlet returns her gaze, unfliching: dare you say something, commoner? Whether the woman is hopeful or worried under her practised politesse, Scarlet doesn't really care.

Her thoughts are elsewhere: on the prestige she might gain from this trip. On the way Ledath's smile makes his eyes twinkle. On whether he has a lover, and how does that feel for her. On her aching calves after all that damned trotting along with the caravan, hiking her dress and ruining her courtly shoes.

"Erikus! What are you doing hiding in here? I never thought you'd be a shirker! What would your mum say?"

Erikus' eyes are wide as he stares at Scarlet.  "Sorry.  Sorry.  Sorry.  What should I do?  It's time to feed the cats, time to feed the cats.  Cats need to eat.  The younger cats should have at least 1/2 beef or pork and 1/4 supplement.  The older cats need less fat, so they should have no more than 1/4 beef or pork and at least 1/2 of a lean meat like fish or venison.  ..."  He continues this recitation, which Scarlet knows is directly from 'The book.'  After a few minutes of reciting, he calms down enough that Scarlet is able to get him moving and the cats are quickly taken care of.  She leaves Erikus to sleep in the tent with the cats, then finds that she is expected to share a small tent with her mother and two other unmarried women who are not part of the Ducal family party.  (Feel free to make up names and personalities for them, if you like, or we'll just leave them as background.)

The next day is similar, with the exception that Scarlet feels that her legs are on fire even before her hours of exercise.  And the following day it is even worse, and she wonders how she will last the eight days of the trip.  However, on the fourth day, finally, her pain is subsiding and she starts to feel a new strength.  As she heads towards the tent where the cats spend the night, she hears hissing and a man moaning.  Running in, she sees three youths, large lads who look like stablehands perhaps, surrounding Erikus.  As he turns from one to the other, whoever is behind him gives him a hard shove in the back.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:43, Fri 05 Aug 2022.

It took some time for Urvan to calm himself. Terrible memories from years passed flooded back and he found himself considering wild courses of action.

It was only after thirty minutes or so that be resolved to find Talaiporía and to ask him what had been discussed. There was some chance perhaps that he was imagining things or had been confused.

He would need to report this, and soon, and he wanted to have some of the basic information on hand when he did so.

With everyone so busy, it takes a few hours for Urvan to track down Talaiporía.  He is one of the few pages who is still taller than Urvan, but probably not as strong.  They've never been unfriendly with each other, but not particularly close, either.  Urvan tries to keep a light tone when he asks, "When you pointed towards me this morning, what was that about?"

Talaiporía just shrugs, "That creepy woman with all the tattoos, she asked if there was a page who started just two years ago, just before midsummer.  You were the only one who started around that time, so I pointed you out.  She asked your name and where you were from.  Sorry, I thought it was weird that she'd ask, but I didn't think anything of it and I just answered her questions.  Is there a problem?"

When you say you need to report this, I assume you mean to Iwo?

Urvan felt his blood flush cold at the news. She knew, she knew who he was, or at least she suspected, and now she was right here in the Palace with him.

Urvan thanked Talaiporía for the news and assured him that he had did nothing wrong. He asked Talaiporía to let him know if the woman came back with more questions before he took his leave.

Iwo would likely be very busy with the games and all the visitors, but this news in particular was urgent.

Urvan went in search of him at once. Careful that he was not being followed, he stopped at a few false locations first and took a round about route in his search, checking for followers all the while.

Scarlet is surprised that Erikus, whose entire world has revolved around the cats and their care, would hide here and neglect them. Something is afoot. Perhaps it is only the trip, possibly the first time the boy leaves Castle Moresby...

...but then a couple of days later she runs into three lads bullying the boy. She is incensed, not so much at Erikus being given such rough treatment, but at the contempt shown, by derivation, to the office of Guardian of the Cats, that Scarlet regally occupies.

"You three! What are you doing here, interfering on Ducal business?" she says in her most authoritative voice, stepping in.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:07, Sat 06 Aug 2022.

After a circuitous route, Urvan reaches Iwo's office and quarters, but Iwo isn't there.  He returns to the main hall where the queen is greeting people officially.  Iwo is off to the side of her on the raised area along with several other counsellors; he occasionally steps in to speak to her quietly.  Looking around, Urvan spots both Erastoo and Gratham standing among a group of what look like priests and priestesses of various churches.  Urvan knows that if he were to try to approach the dais, guards would block him, even if he were delivering an official-looking message.  Protocol would be to hand it to one of the guards to the side.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:09, Sat 06 Aug 2022.

01:20, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Intimidate.
I assumed the plus for you being noble class was cancelled by the minuses for you being smaller and outnumbered.  Plus they're drunk.

The three bullies turn to Scarlet.  Two seem frozen, but the largest of them laughs, "Whatsh it to you, little bitsch?  Maybe you'd like to take hish placshe."
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:26, Sat 06 Aug 2022.

Urvan agonized for a few minutes, but decided not to risk a written message being intercepted.

In the controlled chaos of the ceremonies Urvan felt lost. He was not about to run for the countryside, not yet, and at the same time he felt anxious and uncomfortable being idle.

In the end he returned to Iwo's secret chamber for a moment of reflection and solace.

There was a small iron bound chest in that room, and Urvan used a small key that he wore concealed on his person to unlock it.

Within, nestled within a cushion of red velvet, were the preserved and polished skulls of his parents.

Gently he lifted them out, one by one, laid out the cloth atop the chest then set them side by side. An experienced doctor or perhaps a grave keeper might have been able to spot the differences in the shape and structure of bone, but on the whole they just looked like particularly sturdy and well preserved specimens.

Among his mother's books, the few he could understand, there was no mention of this sort of veneration, but there were illustrations in some, and he had created his own little ritual to help him cope with his loneliness, the terrible things he had witnessed, and the strain of his secrets over the last few years.

He knelt, placed his hands on the ground and lowered his head and pressed it firmly against the hardwood floor of Iwo's chamber, as he had seen it done in the illustrations.

There he remained, motionless, as he worked to control his breathing and as he reflected upon his next course of action with his sworn enemy a few hundred yards away within the Palace ground.

Now and then the strain would become distracting and he would resume his kneeling position to reflect upon those skills before he resumed his forward posture.

He might be missed, it was true, and he might have to pay for it, but this moment alone after all the hustle and bustle of the last few weeks, after the recent shock, was worth it to him.

With a swish of steel, the rapier appears in Scarlet's hand and the point dances in front of the lad's face.

"And maybe you, dirty commoner, would like some appendix of yours chopped off," she retorts with an icy tone. "What is your name, knave, and what is your business here?"

10:34, Today: Zag, for the NPC Drunken idiot, rolled 19,3 using d20-1,d3+1
10:34, Today: Zag, for the NPC drunk, rolled 9,3 using d20-1,d3+1.  crit check.
He's at -2 for being drunk.  And then he rolls natural 20.  LOL.
Take 3 points of non-lethal damage.

The brute looks at Scarlet's steel, inches from his nose, then bats it away and swings at her head.  She is so surprised that he has the audacity to strike at her that she does not even try to dodge.  The punch catches her squarely in the cheek and she hears the ringing of a bell inside her head.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:43, Mon 08 Aug 2022.

oh no he didn't...

The world suddenly turns ninety degrees left (is that south?) and there must be a church nearby, judging from the sound. The next thing she knows is she's leaping forward, not really seeing where she strikes, driven only by those two years of fencing training and a red-hot desire to do harm in revenge...

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 15,3 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier.

12:27, Today: Zag, for the NPC Erikus, rolled 18,1 using d20,d3.
12:32, Today: Zag, for the NPC Erikus, rolled 1,3 using d20,d3.  AoO

Scarlet's rapier pierces the man's bicep.  At nearly the same moment Erikus, flying into a rage at seeing Scarlet injured, swings both fists wildly and manages to tag the man just below his ear.

The man's two friends are already on the way out of the tent, and he, suddenly sobering up, runs to follow them.  Erikus swings again, even more wildly this time and, missing badly, falls to his knees.

Take an Attack of Opportunity and then you can pursue if you like.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:34, Mon 08 Aug 2022.

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 5,5 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier.

JFC, I really need more lessons...

Urvan, I'll assume that you've learned more of the secret passages in the past two years, and that you know a couple of different entrances, including one or two you can get to without being observed.  Iwo's rooms are not secret rooms, it's just that you know a secret way into them.  They include an office and his bedroom, but also have a secret compartment that have the items he would not want housekeeping, for example, to know about (including the skulls and the sensitive of your mother's books).  While you're generally welcome in there as long as you're not observed, it is his private space and you wouldn't just hang out in there except in special times.  While this qualifies, you shouldn't make too much of a habit of it.

Anyway, you said you would risk a written message.  What is the message and where do you leave it?

As the injured bully runs away, Scarlet takes a moment in realization that she has now bloodied her new rapier.  It was a gift from her mother, of all people, who was acknowledging the Scarlet's right to learn martial arts.  No doubt it was her success at trend setting that Mother admired -- several of the other girls had also taken up the training.  Scarlet wipes the blade clean and re-sheaths it before she turns to look at Erikus.

The pathetic lad is sitting on the ground, hugging his knees and rocking while moaning softly.   Somehow, without stopping the moaning, he is reciting a chapter from Raising Savannah Cats and Other Large Felines under his breath.  It is a chapter describing how much sleep cats need (14-20 hours a day) and an appropriate exercise regimen for them.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:55, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

Scarlet meant to chase the bully and at least give him a nasty scar before turning him in for attacking a highborn, but something stops her in her tracks, as she cleans and sheathes her blade. It is the first time she actually uses against someone with grievous intent and she's shaking with adrenaline, pain and fury.

"Who are those pigs, Erikus? What did they want with you?"

Urvan waits in his mentor's quarters for about two hours before he hears the key in the lock.  He waits in the bedroom, just in case Iwo has a guest with him, but there are only Iwo's nearly silent footsteps coming in before the door is shut.  Iwo sniffs, then calls out quietly, "Urvan, are you still here?"

---

Scarlet is unable to get anything coherent out of Erikus.  He does, finally, stop his moaning and he starts doing whatever chores she assigns him, but she can not get him to talk about the encounter.  After a final walk with each cat, they are put into their cages where they make themselves comfortable.

Urvan was unsure quite how much time had passed, it had been some time since he had experienced this much time in private and he had perhaps overindulged.

"Yes sir" he answered quitely, and turned to look to the man while still on his knees. "You saw her?" he asked, already having guessed the answer.

Iwo says, "Of course.  Do you have some reason to be worried?"

Urvan tells him about the conversation with Talaiporía, causing him to suck in his lips and tap his chin.  "Well, she knows I was up there, and she would have figured out that there was a boy living there, so she has to suspect you came back with me.  She probably knows, or suspects, my role here at the palace, and she was bound to put it together.  Our options are to get you out of here, maybe come up with a new cover story for you somewhere else, or else to try to beef up your cover story and maybe try to provide her with other leads.

"If you want to stay, we'll have to make a deal with the count of Tamecia.  No one from Tamecia has shown up, yet; possibly they won't at all.  But she is going to get to them.  We have to get to them first.

"Also, she is going to try to catch you off guard, probably some time that you're under stress anyway.  It might be her or it might be somebody else.  Make sure that you stay in character at all times.  And don't try to avoid her, just be a normal page.  She'll notice if you are watching her and especially if you are avoiding her.

"Well, what do you want to do?  I can find a life for you in another village, but you'll have to take up a trade, basically drop out of sight altogether.  But your opportunity to work directly for the crown will be gone."

Fuming, Scarlet leaves Erikus, hellbent on discovering who those thugs were and having her revenge on them. She asks around after them, three big lads, one of them bleeding from an arm.

Urvan knew at once that he would rather die than to leave his position. The Gods had seen fit to show him some mercy that terrible day, and he was now about to go against their will.

He was meant to be here, just as Iwo had been meant to find him.

"No, I will stay." He told Iwo with conviction. "And I will seek out the Count of Tamecia myself, if you will write the letter. How should it be done?"he volunteered.

Scarlet sees a fist-sized spot of blood where there first gush from the rapier pulling out landed; then she sees another small spot right at the exit of the tent.  Beyond that, however, the closing darkness and the significant foot traffic hides any further drops from sight.  She looks at the blood on the rag she used to clean off the rapier and thinks, if only I had some way to follow the track that these drops of blood left behind.

---

Iwo nods his head thoughtfully.  "OK, then.  You'll ride out tomorrow, leave before daybreak, and head west to the main south road and turn south.  That's where the Count of Temecia will be coming.  You'll have to approach every group to find if the Count is with them, then you'll approach him with our plan.  He is going to have to be a willing participant, so you'll have to be convincing.  I know the man.  If he agrees, he will follow through, but you'll need to get him to agree.  He'll need some sort of reward for taking the risk, some future promise.  What do you think would work?  Meanwhile, we'll have to find some other suspects for Erastoo to pursue.  Do you have any thoughts on that?"

Urvan has the feeling that Iwo already has answers to these questions, but he is asking them as a test.

Urvan remained kneeling as he considered the problems Iwo had posited. They had done this in exercise many times, but it had been some time since they had been faced with a obstacle of this sort.

"I could offer the Duke service..." He began slowly. "I'm young, I know, but ruling lands of his size, he may have problems that he would like handled by someone outside how normal retinue."

He suggested.

"As far as another Page that could be used to distract the Priestess for the time being, anyone who arrived at about the same time would fit the purpose. There is nobody quite my size or build, but there are a few that might distract them enough to allow us to finish the business with the Duke." he suggested. "Or we could arrange for hints to a few options, trying to take up more time with more possibilities, as opposed to just one most ideal candidate."

"Tigris! Come, my dear little tiger, mum needs you to do something," she whispers affectionately, petting the CST when she arrives and holding her close to the blood spot.

"Smell this, girl. Got the scent? Now, go! Track! Come on, go go go!" she encourages the feline, ready to follow it wherever she may go.

None of the negative conditions apply, so this is just DC 10
18:30, Today: Zag, for the NPC Tigris, rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  Scent tracking.
18:32, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 16 using 1d20+9.  Perception.

Tigris, eager for the treat she knows will follow a successful tracking, takes off into the darkness.  As she approaches one campfire, Scarlet looks at the people sitting around it but does not recognize any of them.  She lets the cat continue, startling a woman who is roasting something questionable over the fire, but the cat moves on, just avoiding the group.  After another few dozen paces, girl and cat approach a cluster of wagons forming one side of the pen for the horses.  She hears the nickering of animals as they move to the far side of the pen, no doubt disturbed by the scent of predator.

Once the horses have moved on, she hears a voice coming from the gap between two of the wagons.  "You gotta go to the healer.  That's gonna fester, an' you could lose your arm."

A deeper voice, one she recognizes, says, "Naah.  It hardly even hurts anymore.  I'll be fine."

Make a DC 12 stealth roll for a surprise round, if you want it.  Don't forget that even though you may be a charisma rogue, you're still a rogue and get a +1d6 sneak attack damage.  Also, he's sitting, so you'll be attacking at +2 and he won't have a dex bonus.  That is IF you're looking to kill him.  He's just a punk.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:22, Wed 17 Aug 2022.

Iwo makes a face of distaste at the mention of the Duke.   "Which duke?  You mean Duke Epirus?  It's only a matter of time before he decides he's too important to be part of the empire.  I'd see you sold into slavery before I let you work for him.  He claims to be loyal, but he is quietly forming his own army."  He pauses, "Oh, you mean the Count.  Count Temecia won't need service, and we need him to treat you as a son, not a servant.  I'll draft a letter for you to give him, but I have to confer with the Queen and the Regent what I can offer him for his service.  Stop here on your way out tomorrow morning."

When Urvan suggests another page as an alternative suspect, the old man responds, "No, there are no other pages who arrived around the right time.  You have to open your mind.  It doesn't need to be a page, just any boy that suddenly found employment in or near the palace.

There's a kitchen boy, Cameriere, who arrived around the same time.  He arrived on a boat and managed to convince the cook that he knew his way around a kitchen.  I think Gerroldivus knows him fairly well, the two got into trouble together last winter, if I recall correctly.  If you could just "warn" him, maybe through Gerro, that Erastoo is worth his attention, then he'll act weird enough for her to notice.  It'll have to be something specific, though, people already act odd around her just because of her looks.  Maybe tell him the tattoos are magical, or have an amazing aroma, something that will make him try to get close to her.

There's also a stablehand, Ippéas, who started here about a month after you arrived.  It will be harder to get him to interact with her, but maybe you'll think of something.  I doubt she goes and checks on her own horses.  She likely just walked here from the temple, anyway, it's only about an hours' walk.  I'll put in a word to have him on duty tomorrow morning, and you can chat with him when you pick up a horse.

Iwo writes a letter and signs it.  "Here.  Give this to the stablehand to requisition you a horse.  I know you don't ride much, but you'll have to learn quickly.  Come back tomorrow, an hour before dawn, to get the letter for Count Temecia."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:23, Wed 17 Aug 2022.

Not necessarily kill him, Scarlet is not that bloodthirsty and she'd have cooled down a bit during the tracking, but definitely give him a nasty reminder of this day, and possibly bring him to justice for laying hands on a noble.

OK.  ...

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 19 using 1d20+7.  Stealth.
Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 13,4 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier.
Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 3 using 1d6.  Extra damage for sneak attack.

Scarlet pounds from the shadows...

I'm not sure how tough you thought he was, but he's not that tough. 

Scarlet moves silently around one wagon to appear, as if out of nowhere, in the middle of the youths' conversation.  The smaller boy is leaning against the back of the wagon ahead of the one Scarlet circles.  The larger boy is sitting on the wagon hitch, his legs straddling the beam that leads out to the yoke, and cradling his injured arm.

All the training in swordplay comes into focus, Scarlet can practically hear Usuul's voice saying "Arm is too low, out of guard position.  Strike the neck."  Her rapier, almost on its own, slides through the bully's windpipe.  She withdraws her sword to see arterial blood gushing out with the beat of his heart, flowing through his useless fingers.  He tries to speak, but only blood and a strangled cough comes out.  The other boy backs away, his eyes wide with terror and his hands raised.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:19, Wed 17 Aug 2022.

"I will" Urvan bowed and stood, then went to collect his things.

-

Early the next morning, before the sun was fully up, Urvan was dressed for the road in a sturdy brown tunic, hob nailed sandals and a messenger bag. He was travelling very light, but such was his habit.

At his side trotted Boreas, excited by the prospect of an early restroom break and a walk.

The previous day he had made his pitch to Cameriere, and suggested that Erastoo's tattoo's were in fact magical, and that they could form tantalizing, erotic images if only you could watch them for long enough. He hoped it would do the trick.

As he arrived at the stables proper he greeted Ippéas.

"Good morning." he said in his trademark near whisper. "Is everything ready?"

The sight of her first kill is imprinted in her mind forever now, Scarlet understands immediately.

"There, worry no more about infections," she hears someone say in the coldest of voices as she steps into the light, bloodied steel levelled at the other boy. Her pulse beats a wild rhythm inside her temples.

"On your knees, knave. Try to run and I'll find you like I found him."

20:04, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 5 using 1d20.  Bluff

Cameriere listens to Urvan's story, a little surprised that the page is now confiding in him.  Frankly, he's a little afraid of the huge lad with the huge dog, so he just nods his head and smiles.

After picking up the sealed note that Iwo has ready for him, Urvan heads out to the stables.  "Good morning," he whispers to Ippéas. "Is everything ready?"

"Ready?" the boy asks as he squats down and holds out the back of his hand for Boreas to sniff.  "Nice dog, goooood boy," he says in a soothing tone, then he turns back to Urvan.  "Great doggo you have there.  'e's a biggun.  So, uhhh, ready for wha' mate?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:14, Sat 20 Aug 2022.

20:17, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 19 using 1d20+8.  Intimidate.

Scarlet is pleased with how steadily she holds the blade.  It really is very well-balanced; at least mother knows to buy quality.

The boy immediately drops forward on his knees, his hands still held up in as non-threatening a pose as he can muster.  "Don't hurt me.  I'm sorry about your friend -- we didn't mean anything by it, we was just having a laugh, that's all.  We weren't gonna hurt him."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:19, Sat 20 Aug 2022.

Scarlet advances, light and graceful as if in one of her ballets, swordpoint a handspan from the boy's face.

"Explain. And I will spare you," she commands.

She isn't sure she will.

The larger boy gurgles a death rattle.  The smaller boy, still on his knees, manages to squeak out through his sobs, "It wasn't nothing, just a bit of fun."  Sweat drips off his face and snot is oozing down his chin, but his hands remain up, just behind his ears.  "... because he's, you know, a retard.  I'm sorry.  I won't touch him again; I swear it."

Oh, yes. Erikus. This is also about him, right. But mostly about a commoner daring touch her.

"You are right. You won't. If I see you again, you will end up like that pig over there. And believe me, I will remember your face," she says, swiftly cutting his right cheek in a rapid stroke, from ear to lip. Then she takes a couple of steps back and cleans her swordtip on the dead boy's clothes, before she sheathes it and vanishes into the night.

RESERVED FOR FUTURE POST BY URVAN.

The meeting with Ippéas.

RESERVED FOR RESPONSE

RESERVED FOR COMPLETION

POSSIBLY A FOLLOWUP

---

Urvan heads out on the road west, clumsily riding the horse Ippéas saddled for him, Boreas trotting along beside.  The sun is already well above the horizon before he leaves the palace because Ippéas insisted on walking him through how to care for the horse on the journey, how to unsaddle and saddle him correctly, etc.  Urvan realizes that there is a lot in common with taking care of a dog, primarily being aware of the animal's needs and seeing that they are met before the animal is in distress.  Urvan is a little concerned about leaving so late, because Iwo said that he should leave before sunup, but there was so much more to get ready than he calculated.

The first couple of hours are quiet.  The only traffic on the road are farmers and tradespeople bringing their goods to Olympia, most of them headed for the palace.  However, in the late morning, Urvan sees a larger, wealthier group headed towards him.  Are these people from Temecia?  I can't just ask them -- word of a boy asking everyone whether they are from Temecia is likely to get back to Erastoo.  He lands on the solution of asking a guard if he has SEEN the group from Temecia on their way to Olympia, to which he receives a negative answer.  As the day progresses to noon, Urvan realizes that it will be slow-going; his hopes of traveling light and fast is ruined by his need not to pass his quarry by.  He passes three other groups using the same technique, and arrives in Osmeisley in mid-afternoon.

---

Scarlet returns to the cat tent to find that Erikus has moved the four cages into a U shape and he is sitting in the middle of them, hugging his knees.  The three cats are bedded down for the night and Tigis's cage is properly prepared, as is her dish of food next to the cage.

If you want to say or do anything else that night, you're welcome to, but I'm going to move forward.

The following morning the caravan heads out, as usual.  Late that afternoon, however, their operational standard changes.  Until now, the group has been avoiding the towns along the way, camping just outside them, usually in a farmer's field.  (Scarlet imagines that these farmers are paid for the inconvenience, or maybe not.)  However, this evening they enter the town -- a small city, really -- that Scarlet learns is called Osmeisley.  It is the crossroads of the main north-south road and the east-west road that span Elláda.  Warnings are passed through the caravan to stay well clear of the sketchy bars, the gambling dens, and the brothels, at least, if you don't want to find yourself waking up in an alley stripped clean of all valuables.

Scouts who were sent ahead lead the group to a warehouse and stables that can accommodate their train.  The nobles are led to a publick house where rooms have already been reserved.  Scarlet wonders if she is expected to stay with the cats in the warehouse or if there are quarters for her, but no one seems to have considered her in the planning.

Scarlet returns to the cats and the catboy with an eery calm pace, as if nothing had happened, or killing a lad was the most relaxing thing in the world.

"You are safe, they won't be back," she tells him softly, and goes to bed.

And wakes up thrice, from dreams she can't quite remember except that they feature Tigris feasting on Erikus' severed head, as if by some bizarre mistake she had beheaded the wrong boy.

So the next morning Scarlet is grumpy and uncommunicative, and by the time they arrive in town she is more than eager to do something different instead of bedding down as usual: partially because it's the first time she spends a night outside Castle Moresby, partially because she fears having the same nightmares.

So she heads to the inn, planning on asking for a room and perhaps mingling with the nobles for as long as possible before she has to retire for the night.

10:13, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy - Information Gathering

Scarlet walks to the center of the town, where the two main roads intersect.  She can see two publick houses right at the intersection, The Vulgar Unicorn and McAnally's; and she sees another, The Prancing Pony, just beyond the intersection.  Unsure where to go, she spots a guard shack at the intersection, squeezed in between The Prancing Pony and a temple to Hermes.  After giving the guard a few silvers, she learns the names of the inns and pubs in the town.  He drawls, "Ahh don't reckon you'll find any rooms, though, missie.  There's a big group in town that bought up all the rooms."

• Vulgar Unicorn:  Bar and Brothel, a real dive.  This has rooms that are generally rented by the hour, many of which are reserved for the girls who work there.
• Prancing Pony:  Inn and publick house.  The nicest available, but still not that nice.
• McAnally's:  Pub only.  Nicer than most
• The Hog's Head:  Rough bar.  Has a few dozen rooms, plus a couple of large sleeping halls where you can get a bed but no privacy.
• Ten Forward:  The largest inn, has an attached bar that is generally quiet

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:24, Sat 03 Sept 2022.

Scarlet absorbs the information, excited by the idea of being on her own in a bit city for the first time. She'd like to sneak into the seediest dives just to see what they are like, but she stops herself and heads for the Prancing Pony - reasoning that, as the fanciest of the bunch, it must attract the most distinguished clientele... The one Scarlet would like to spy or eavesdrop on.

Sorry, I should have thought to ask, since it affects how you'll be greeted.  Do you have Tigris with you?  If so, we'll have to assume that she is leashed or you would have gotten grief from the guard.  You probably would have gotten at least comment and warning, but I wasn't thinking about it.  I'll describe the scene, at least, but how much attention you draw will depend on whether she is there.

Scarlet enters through a door in the middle of the building.  The room opens out to her left, but a wall extends a dozen feet forward on her right, blocking her view from that half of the room.  Long tables with benches extend to the right beyond where she can see, and smaller tables with chairs are squeezed into any nook.  Every seat is taken and more people are standing, some are even sitting on the tables.  A fire burns in the fireplace on the left wall; with so many folks crowded on the hearth that Scarlet wonders if anyone has been accidentally pushed in.  The bar along the far wall has every stool occupied and at least as many people standing.  In the chaos, she spots two of the knights who are part of the castle entourage seated at the far end of the nearest long table and she feels a slight relief at spotting a familiar face.

The noise is just a din, a wall of sound, with no one voice climbing above any others.  Suddenly there is a loud THUMP just to Scarlet's right that makes her duck instinctively.  She is touching the doorframe on her right, and can feel the vibrations of something heavy slamming into the wall just beyond it.  Surprisingly, no one in the room seems to react to it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:03, Sat 03 Sept 2022.

Having left Tigris with the other cats (she is a bit worried the kitty might get disoriented or even lost in the din and confusion of a new environment), Scarlet enters the inn with a mixture of excitement and curiosity, touched with a note of revulsion: this is how the lower classes live?

The place is bursting with people, and she instantly knows she'll have to carve some soace for herself if she wants any: nobody is going to step aside and nod deferentially. Wild places.

Carefully, she walks a few paces ahead, enough to clear the right-hand wall and look to her right, to check what causes that massive impact she has felt as well as geard...

Scarlet squeezes along the wall, the wooden planks of the floor are sticky and pull at her shoes.  The odor in the room, a mix of stale beer and body odor, is overwhelming.  Rounding the corner of the wall, she sees the only open space in this large room.  A few men stand in front of the space and there is a target at the far end, near the front of the building.

She recognizes Sir Heger Ledath discussing something with a shorter man as a huge, brute of a man standing next to Sir Heger draws back an axe and sinks it into the target.  It sticks deeply into the target at the circle nearest the bullseye, and Scarlet can see another axe stuck in the wall behind the target.  No doubt this was the source of the sound.

"Any others?" calls out the short man Sir Heger was just talking to.  "Anyone else?  The valiant and powerful Sir Angus Karllsen is now a 3-to-1 favorite over Sir Heger Ledath.  Accepting bets on both sides."  Several men milling about hand the man coins, for which they each receive a wooden token.

Unthinkingly, Scarlet's hands move to her hair (how do her locks look today), face (gods, does she look tired?) and decolletage (that's what all men want to see right?), compulsively arranging and smoothing and fussing over. She takes a deep breath, bidding herself not blush and she takes a step forward, trying to keep her movements gracious in spite of the sticky floors and crowded spaces.

"Why, sir Heger! Fancy bumping into you in such a place, what a coincidence!" she coos sweetly, hating herself for the way she's probably making it sound like not a coincidence at all...

"I, uhm, just came... I'm coming, I mean, from the..." she jerks a thumb over her shoulder, now actually blushing. "The cats. Acheron. I wanted to commend the way you took care of that puss. Looks so happy."

I should have said that you've run into him two or three times by now, when he came to visit Archon or take him for a walk, which he's done every day after the first.  We can assume that you never really had a chance to talk beyond a hello and discussing feeding and exercise schedules.  You've also been summoned to bring Darling's two cats to her twice in the 8 days you've been travelling, but didn't particularly interact with her; he is a more involved owner than the duchess.  I sort of had this in my head when I introduced him, but never actually said it.

"Scarlet!" Heger exclaims.  He looks around quickly, as if scanning for a threat.  "You shouldn't ...  Is everything OK?"  The din in the room is such that he is shouting but Scarlet can barely understand him.  She repeats her message, shouting, and he nods and smiles.  "He's a good kitty -- strong, healthy.  But you shouldn't be here -- this is a rough place."  He puts an arm on her shoulder in a brotherly, protective way.

The short man, whom Scarlet now realizes has some freakish ability to project his voice, tugs at Heger's arm.  "You're up, but you're already locked out."  He gestures to the target, where one axe is in the bullseye and two more are in the next ring.

"No I'm not," shouts Heger. "White line."

"Too crowded," replies the man, "and you'd still need three for three."

"White line," Heger repeats in a flat tone that brooks no argument.  The man shrugs, then starts to shout at the crowd, moving them back in order to extend the throwing lane.  Scarlet can see a white line painted on the floor about half way between where she stands and the far wall.  Once the crowd is involved in clearing the lane (which includes moving two tables), the man returns to collecting bets, though he seems to have few takers.  The odds have gone up to seven-to-one on Sir Heger, and only 11-to-10 for Sir Angus.

Heger grins and winks at Scarlet.  Bending over, he says directly into her ear, "Go buy a chip."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:18, Wed 07 Sept 2022.

Scarlet was already slightly trembling, but his touch makes her shiver. She wants to run away and bury herself in a hole and die. She also wants to stay right where she is forever, basking in the warmth of his hand.

She doesn't know anything about lines of any color, but when he speaks in her ear it's like lightning, as if all the energy that had suddenly drained from her was poured again into her body, pumped in high pressure.

"Yes, yesyesyes, of course," she stammers, and goes 'buy a chip', whatever that means, walking mechanically like a windup doll Heger has set in motion.

It's about betting, she hazily gathers, so equally mechanically she pulls out all her money and hands it over to the bookie.

"All on Sir Heger, please," seh asks, almost begs. The mere idea of *not* betting for him, not going all in, is unthinkable right now.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:08, Fri 16 Sept 2022.

Scarlet pulls a total of 33 gold pieces worth from a couple of different pockets, including two platinum pieces from her shoes.  The man looks at it and says, "I can't give you seven-to-one on this much.  Five-to-one."  Scarlet nods agreement and he takes the money, handing her 4 chips.  There are 3 chips that say 10 @ 5/ and one that says 3 @ 5/.

The commotion of clearing the longer throwing lane has drawn the attention of the entire crowd.  The short man is calling out "Final bets now!  Five-to-one on Sir Heger, 11-to-10 for Sir Angus."  It doesn't seem that five-to-one is enough incentive to get people lining up for a white line gambit.

Heger accepts the three axes and steps to the line.  He looks around the crowd and is obviously reveling in the attention.  He flips one axe high in the air, allowing it to make three full revolutions before catching it deftly.  In only a split second from catching it, he flings the large axe in a long, flat arc towards the target, where it thunks solidly on the left third of the bullseye.

After a gasp by the crowd, there are shouts of "Not in!  Not in!" along with a few competing shouts of "three-fourths."  The short man walks over to the target and inspects the axe.  He holds up his hand with thumb and finger indicating the tiniest measurement, and he declares in his booming voice "IN!"  As the bookie steps out of the throwing lane, a few desperate men approach him, holding out their last coins, but he waves them off.  "No more bets.  The final turn is underway."

Sir Heger Ledath stands stock still at the white line while the attention is on the short man, but he seems to glow when all eyes focus back on him.  He reaches back with the axe, as if preparing a massive throw, but then reaches even further to scratch his back with the weapon.  As the laughter dies down, he launches the second axe as perfectly as the first, leaving it solidly in the right third of the bullseye.  While there are a few shouts of "Not in!" they quickly die down -- the second axe is clearly aligned with the first.

Scarlet watches the knight line up for his last shot.  He wipes his brow, then carefully dries his hand and the handle of the axe with a rag.  She realizes that he is doing it for effect rather than necessity, and she recognizes with her own acting talent that he is stretching out the scene to create the perfect level of suspense.  He peers at the target as the crowd noises die down.  Just as they hit a nadir, he lets the axe fly, making one full revolution in the air and landing perfectly between the other two.  The room erupts with noise.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:12, Fri 16 Sept 2022.

Scarlet can't help but to fangirl every second of it; not that she's actually making any effort to help it. She gasps at the adequate moments, then cheers, and when it's finally over, she discovers her knuckles a che and she has been fishing her nails into her palms. She's elated but I'm some way, it was no surprise. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was the telltale signs of a consummate actor playing his audience because he knows beyond a doubt he's going to make it. Or maybe it's just the heady effects of teenage infatuation, but when she finds herself hugging Sir Heger, she knows it was always coming to this.

"Gods of the Olympus, you are incredible, Sir Heger!", she stammers excitedly, blushing head to toe when she realizes she's, well, in full contact with the man, and more than a bit flustered.

Sir Heger holds Scarlet by the shoulders at arms' length and looks her over.  He is smiling broadly, but he sucks in his lips in a bemused grin and shakes his head very slightly.  "Such a pretty little thing you are.  But I don't think I'm ready to face Annie's wrath."  He pauses a moment, and his tone changes from wistful to paternal, "you should go collect your winnings."

Scarlet gets in line to see the short man and his very large companion, a man even taller and broader than Sir Angus.  Most of the chips, those with orange print, are returned for just a copper piece; many of the people just wave off the pennies.  Those with green print are paid handsomely.  When Scarlet hands over her chips, the short man drops ten platinum pieces in her hand, then counts out another 65 gold pieces in stacks of 5 on the table beside him.  She drops them all into her pouch, which now holds more coin than it was really made for.

Scarlet turns back towards Sir Heger, but the mob of congratulators around him is impenetrable.

A spectrum of emotions pass through Scarlet's gace like an accelerated parade: bliss (at the compliment), then disappointment (at the rejection), then pleasure (at him having noticed her in THAT way), then anger (at the way Mother has managed to thwart her once again, without even being present or willing).

Scarlet's ears and cheeks are burning red while she queues, and she almost doesn't notice the small fortune (for her standards) she is being handed. A hundred and sixty-five, more money than she has ever had. She has no idea of its actual value or what she could afford with it, since she has lived all her life in Castle Moresby, where no disbursement is actually necessary, beyond tipping servants or as betting chips. So she shrugs and makes to leave, not wanting to go through the humiliation of waiting on the sidelines for Sir Heger to condescend to her again.

Once outside, she randomly walks into the McAnal, hoping for a quiet dinner...

Scarlet steps out of the overwhelming din that fills the barroom.  The outside is hardly quiet, but seems like such a relief from the wall of sound inside.  She remembers belatedly that her purpose in coming in to town was to find a room for the night.  She forgot to ask, but it is quite clear from the crowd that there are no rooms available in the Prancing Pony.  Spotting McAnally's down the street, she decides to go see what is happening there.

Suddenly, she is reminded of the game she has been playing with Tigris over the past year.  Her cat will hide in her room, or will run ahead in a hallway, then try to pounce on her from the shadows.  Scarlet has gotten to where she can sense Tigris preparing the attack without even being able to see her; and Scarlet will duck at the last minute.  Often she can even twist to make a counter attack, grabbing the kitten by the scruff and starting a wrestling match.  She has always figured that it was some special ability that anyone makes with an animal they bond with.

She is reminded because she feels the same sense right now, but sharper and less playful.  If she passes the next corner, two more steps away, she is going to be attacked.

(What did you think would happen if you win a bunch of money?)
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:23, Wed 21 Sept 2022.

The possibility, nay, probability of an ambush has been in the back of Scarlet's mind since she left the caravan, for this is uncharted waters for her. Considering how even one of the caravan lads dared hit her, how much more dangerous won't the outer world be?

But the memory of the offender gurgling his own lifeblood brings a dark frisson to her mind, and her heart beats faster. Silently she unsheathes her fine rapier, relishing the lightness of the blade in her hand. Moonlight makes it a fine, silvery needle.

Yes, to dye it dark red might attenuate the earlier frustration.

With her off hand she takes off her cloak, and throws it in front of her, beyond the corner. As soon as the would-be ambusher rushes the empty piece of clothing, Scarlet will step forward and run him through, giving him a taste of his own medicine...

Adrenaline Rush!

Not either of the things that I thought you might do.  I like it!  You did say you were trying to draw the rapier silently, so I'll give you a straight Sleight of hand against his Perception, and I guess the other action is a bluff, so I'll use the feint rules.
15:56, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 21 using 1d20+8.  Draw the rapier silently.
15:56, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 25 using 1d20+10.  Bluff the ambusher with cloak.
16:07, Today: Secret Roll: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 24 using 1d20+9.  Perception
That last was to hear the guy above, which you only needed to beat a 13.  It was a secret roll because I wouldn't have told you about it if you had failed.

After slipping the rapier from its sheath with hardly a whisper, Scarlet pulls off her cloak and tosses it forward.  Just as a tall figure steps out of the alley to put a broad arm around the empty cloak, she hears from above, "Vasanízo!  Wait!"  There must be an accomplice on the roof.

Her assailant, grabbing an empty cloak when he was expecting a struggling girl, is thrown off balance, leaning back awkwardly back into the alley.

You have a surprise round with him flat-footed (i.e. you get a sneak attack).  You can take an attack and then roll initiative for the first full round.

I would like to point out that you're on questionable legal grounds, here.  "Why did you attack him?"  "Well, he grabbed my cloak, which I threw ahead of me because I knew he was going to jump me."  "How did you know that?"  "I had a feeling."  "hmmm.  OK, come with us, now."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:30, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

"I'm the daughter of a Duke, he's some street ruffian," sounds like an argument-ending proposition.

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 18,7 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier.

Smilingly tightly as the brigand falls into her trap, Scarlet turns the tables on him, rapier flashing towards his chest...

Remind me how intiiative worked? And is he still alive?

07:56, Today: Zag, on behalf of Scarlet d'Ardelle, rolled 5 using 1d6.  Additional sneak attack damage.
and +1 for Adrenaline Rush, so total damage is 13
07:58, Today: Zag rolled 12,20 using d20+5,d20+2.  Initiative Scarlet, Ruffian.
08:49, Today: Zag, for the NPC Ruffian, rolled 7,9 using d20-1,d6+3.  Attempting lethal strike with sap.

Scarlet's precise attack slides through a gap in the studs that cover the ruffian's leather armor, plunging deeply into his chest.  He gasps out, "You BITCH!" but the words seem to lack the appropriate force.  In his fury, he swings his blackjack wildly, attempting to take the girl's head off with the normally nonlethal weapon.  Fortunately for Scarlet, the undisciplined attack is not even close.

He shakes his head to restore his sanity, then steps back into the alley in a tactical retreat.  As he steps backwards, he drops his sap and draws a long sword.

He took a 5-foot-step backwards.  You can close with him and attack, or run away, as you like.  Since you're no longer in his area of influence, he will not get an Attack of Opportunity if you run.

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:41, Fri 23 Sept 2022.

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 21,4 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier

Damage 5

... Scarlet's tight smile of deadly concentration becomes a full grin as she feels her slender blade sink deep into flesh, and she almost guffaws at his imprecation. There's a dark elation in putting the fear of her steel into the heart of a grown-up man, and a professional brigand at that, not just some drunk stable hand.

She goes in for the kill, seeking to close the distance before he can use the scary looking sword effectively, rapier-point digging for his chest again like an angry hornet...

12:36, Today: Zag, for the NPC Ruffian 2, rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  Acrobatics.
12:39, Today: Zag, for the NPC Ruffian 2, rolled 3,5 using d20+2,d6+1.  sap.
12:39, Today: Zag, for the NPC Ruffian 1, rolled 21,4 using d20+4,d8+3.  long sword.

As Scarlet steps forward to stab the large man a second time, she hears the man who had been acting as lookout on the roof drop into place behind her.  The man tried to hit Scarlet on the back of the neck with a blackjack, but he must not have caught his balance after his jump and the blow is not even close.  The man in front of her seems to be in rough shape, even gasping out some flecks of blood, but that doesn't seem to have slowed him down.  His fury remains unabated, but it seems more controlled, now.  He deftly moves his longsword around her guard and slashes her on the upper arm.

Scarlet:  4 points lethal damage

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 22,7 using d20+3,d6+2.  Rapier (used the wrong roll before).

That would be Damage 8

If it wasn't for the adrenaline rush, Scarlet would have felt the pain, and more importantly, would have felt the fear. Not two years, not twenty years of fencing practice compare to actually fighting for your life against a foe determine to end it. Scarlet would have turned and fled, if the pain didn't do it then the sight of her own blood, and if not that, then the knowledge that she was surrounded.

But she was lost in a blur of speed and bloodlust, and her only escape route had just been cut off, so she thrusted forward again, hitting the first ruffian for the third time, knowing at some level of intuition that her only way out was forward.

"Guards! Help! Murder! To me the guard!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, too.

The ruffian's studded leather seems not to be a hindrance at all to Scarlet's deadly rapier.  She strikes him in the inside of his shoulder on his sword arm, making his knees buckle and his hand release his sword.  She considers a killing blow as his tries to crawl away but remembers the accomplice behind her.  Whirling to face the man, he holds his hands up, as if denying that he ever had any ill intent towards her.  He takes one step back, then turns to run.

Scarlet can see the guard just turning her way in response to her call.

You can take an attack of opportunity on the man running away, but you have to decide before you know what the guard is going to do. 

For one dark second, Scarlet regrets her hasty words. Were it not for the guard, she could finish the ruffian there and then, while his cowardly accomplice ran away.

But the moment of bloodlust is gone, and in its wake comes the crash Scarlet knows very well: the exhaustion, the hunger, the imperious need to lay down and rest. Still she clings to her dignity, and, advancing, keeps the wounded ne'er-do-well at swordpoint.

"Move another inch and I'll make a pig brochette out of you," she says with effort. "Gard, ho! Here is your would-be murdered and robber, catch him!"

07:52, Today: Zag rolled 50,20 using d100,d20+4.  75% chance same guard and Guard reaction to Scarlet.

The guard turns his head to see the ruffian run away but does not pursue, obviously considering coming to help Scarlet to be the more important task.  Seeing that she has matters well in hand, he slows to a walk, pausing to turn his head to whistle loudly, high then low.  Scarlet can see that it is the same guard that she earlier asked for information.  He grins at her in an avuncular way and drawls, "Ahh, Missie.  I saw that loverly rapay at your side and I s'spected that a mugger migh' have a hard time witcha.  I din think it would happen so soon, though."

He turns to the ruffian, who looks rather pale, and chuckles, "Branden, picked the wrong li'l girl, didya?"  He kneels down beside Branden and places a hand over the worst of the man's injuries.  In only a minute he expertly bandages the sucking wound in the ruffian's chest, and then ties up the wound on his arm.  As he finishes the effort, two other guards arrive and, after a brief consultation, the two guards lift the ruffian to his feet and march him off.  He is so weak that they are carrying him more than leading him.

The guard turns to Scarlet.  "He'll live, prolly.  You don' need t' worry, Missie."  Picking up the longsword, he holds it out.  The sword is the sort made in bulk for low level officers in the army.  The quality is adequate, but only just.  "This's your'n if you want it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:19, Wed 28 Sept 2022.

Scarlet puts a hand to the nearest wall, trying to dissimulate her panting behind a tight smile.

"I see you know this ne'er-do-well... I hope this is the last of his exploits. Not that it was very impressive," she says arrogantly. Then she notices the blood seeping from her arm and looks away, paling.

"Oh yes, I should like to... keep that steel... as a memento," she says, accepting the sword. "So he was an officer in the army? What a pitiful way to go for a soldier. Say, good guard... would you mind escorting me to... wherever I could get a decent bite of food, and a clean room for the night?"

22:47, Today: Secret Roll: Zag, for the NPC Scarlet, rolled 25,18 using d20+9,d20+4.  Perception, Sense Motive.
Again, this was secret because you don't even get to know there was a roll if it failed.  I guess I'm not sure what I would have done if one succeeded and one failed, but fortunately, that didn't happen.

The guard shakes his head.  "McAnally's or the Pony are your best bets for food, but like I tole you afore, Missy, there's not rooms to be had anywhere in town tonight."  He looks down and notices Scarlet's now-bulging purse, and gets a calculating look in his eye.  "But, I s'pose, since you're such a little thing out on your own, that me 'n' the Missus could put you up for the night.  It warn't be no trouble."  Scarlet can't be sure if he plans to rob her or his plot is merely to gauge her on the price, but he clearly has a profit in mind.

Scarlet's eyes narrow to slits, letting him know she senses his intentions.

"What a charming town! I am quite enjoying the hospitality of this charming city tonight," she says tartly. "And I suppose you would give me lodgings for free, would you not? Just to erase the taint of having had a noblelady hurt by ruffians, on your watch, almost before your very eyes, is it not?"

"Umm, for free?  Well, naw, we couldna do that.  Maybe, umm, 2 gold for the night?  You could take my son's bed -- he's four -- he could come into the bed with me an' my wife."

Scarlet considers that this is high, but not outrageous.  In any case, in the letdown from her brush with death, her first priority at the moment is food.  She thinks about the tables in the Prancing Pony; plenty of people were eating some sort of greasy-looking meat on a piece of flatbread that looks like heaven right now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:39, Fri 30 Sept 2022.

"For that price you will escort me to McAnal too," Scarlet grunts, trying to not wince as she tests her wounded arm. "Dinner first. Lead the way."

"Ah.  Umm, sure 'nuff."  It seems as if he were ready for something else, and Scarlet's request caught him off-guard.  "You, ahh, you're nearly there."  In fact, the alley from which Scarlet was accosted is between McAnally's and another building.

Seeing her look at the small slice on her arm, the guard asks, "Wouldya like a bandage for that?  It could fester if'n yeh don't treat it."  He expertly applies a bandage before walking Scarlet to the door.  "You stop by when you've eated, 'n' I'll see you're brought safe to me wife for a place to sleep."

Scarlet does her best not to turn any paler as he bandages her wound, and just nods affirmatively before taking a seat at the McAn.

"Your best dinner, innkeep, and some wine," she orders through gritted teeth, almost raging with hunger, ready to devour whatever is served to her.

McAnally's is nearly as crowded as the Prancing Pony, but Scarlet makes her way to the fire pit where a older man is serving up portions of a vegetable beef (she assumes) soup out of the huge kettle.  She sees that you get a bowl of soup and large bread stick for two silvers which she gladly pays.  On the table beside the server is a tankard with a dozen or so spoons.  However, most look like they have already been used and just put back into the tankard with not even a casual wipe with an apron.  She decides to follow the example of many of the other patrons and just drink the soup out of the bowl.  She cleans the bowl thoroughly with the bread, returns for another entire serving and devours that one as well; then she finally feels herself, again.

Looking around, she sees that she is in a dark, low-ceilinged room.  In fact, other than the fire pit, the only light is a single sconce behind the bar.  Although many people are smoking, the smoke does not seem to collect, in spite of the low ceilings.  She shrugs off the mystery, makes her way through the crowd to the bar to get a mug of wine, then grabs a seat at a small table just as an older couple is leaving it.  The wine is no worse than the everyday wine served at the castle, so she sips comfortably and relaxes as she looks around.

Every table is full -- she was extremely lucky to get this one -- and more people are standing.  Considering the crowd, the room is reasonably quiet; everyone seems to keep their conversations soft and low.  Scarlet scans the crowd for people she knows.  She picks out two knights who look familiar, but she can't be sure.

A powerfully-built young man enters the pub followed by the largest, most muscular dog Scarlet has ever seen.  He heads straight to the fire pit and buys two bowls of soup with the accompanying breadsticks.  He has to hold them up in the air as the dog is nudging and trying to get one.  It looks ready to rear up to get it, and probably will be as tall the youth if it does.  "Sit, Boreas.  It's too hot for you, yet."  The dog obediently sits but continues to stare with hopeful eyes.  The young man seems to be looking for a place to sit and enjoy his meal, but, as Scarlet has already observed, there are no seats other than the second one at her table.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:54, Mon 03 Oct 2022.

The welcome warmth of hot food spreads through her stomach, bringing comfort to the rest of the body. The first bowl she almost even doesn't taste, such is the urgency; the second she enjoys some more, and when it's empty, she feels at peace with the universe again.

She could have killed the man. She had wanted to, too. Had she stayed her own hand only out of caution, not wanting to end up having to answer too many questions from the city guard? Out of professional zeal, not wanting to answer Lady Idalaiz's questions when she heard? Because she would, sooner or later. Or was it something more visceral, an instinct to avoid killing for its own sake?

Scarlet fingers the hilt of the army sword taken as a trophy. This had been a real combat, against a man with actual military training. He had meant to ambush her, and he had been ambushed by her for his trouble. Thrice she had felt her rapier cut the man's flesh, and she knew intimately that a fourth would have been the last one for him. Those fencing lessons hadn't been just another courtly pursuit; ballet might have given her firm and agile legs to perform that footwork, but it was master Usuul's teaching that had guided the steel.

Scarlet has ignored the knights, as the memory of Sir Heath is too recent in her memory, an injured pride, but she eyes the big lad with interest, trying to place him, trying to remember if she has seen him before...

The boy awkwardly balances one bowl of soup in the crook of the arm holding the other bowl.  With his free hand, he stirs one bowl with a breadstick and drops the bread for the dog.  It doesn't reach the ground.  He commands "heel" before making his way to the bar and the dog dutifully follows just behind and to the left.  Well trained Scarlet observes.  As he comes by Scarlet's table, he makes brief eye contact before looking away.  Then he glances back, as if he wants to say something, then turns red and moves on towards the bar.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:33, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

Not a highborn, then. Normally Scarlet wouldn't give him a second glance, particularly as he's not her type. But she's far from home, in this unknown and exciting territory that is a common inn, and her inner self has been subjected to two great stressors: first a hurtful rejection, and then a life-or-death fight. The combination of hurt pride and euphoria is doing things to her brain. She feels daring, but tired; seeking the reassurance of feeling attractive, but also repulsed by the dirty vulgarity of the commoners.

Most of all, she wants to feel in command.

"You, boy," she says, not unkindly but making it clear who's in charge here. "You're a good boy."

She plays the equivocation, waiting until the lad comes to smile at the dog.

"Would you like a treat? Come, come here with me," she says, tapping her table. "Good boy."

Actually, the eye contact means he is more likely than not to be highborn, because a commoner wouldn't even go that far.  I don't know how much you've followed Urvan's thread:  He is pretending to be minor nobility but isn't.  However, his unusual background means that he is not as naturally obsequious as most commoners, either.  He's just shy and embarrassed because you're the most beautiful girl he has ever met who is in his own age range (or, perhaps, at all). 

The boy turns again towards Scarlet when she calls, but then becomes even more embarrassed when she makes it clear she is talking to the dog.  The dog glances towards Scarlet, but never leaves his master's side.  The animal is on a leash, but the lead has never even pulled tight.  Scarlet is not even sure Tigris would have such focus in a huge, chaotic crowd such as this.  The boy continues on to the bar, the way parting for him as people get a look at his companion, and orders a beer.  He sets the bowls down on the slice of bar his has managed to acquire, pours a splash of beer into one and stirs it with a breadstick before giving it to the huge hound.  The beast inhales the food and sits while the youth eats the soup and bread between gulps of beer.

He looks back at Scarlet, now with a bit of concern on his features as he looks around, perhaps wondering where her escort is.  Finally, he approaches, "Umm, excuse me, Miss.  I'm looking for the delegation from Tamecia.  I was wondering if you might be travelling with them, or possibly know of them."
This message was last updated by the GM at 21:33, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

One commoner went as far as to punch her and another tried to kill her, so Scarlet is deeply unconvinced by the eye-contact argument. But! You're absolutely right about the beauty angle ¨;)

Scarlet giggles, as the boy's confusion reassures her. After the dangers and shocks of the day, she feels in her own home turf again, playing the cards of her allure and daring.

"I might, possibly," she echoes him with a sly smile, a finger playing along the rim of her wine glass. "And since you ask, what business would you have with the delegation, ser...?"

"Oh!  You know them?  Oh, good.  I really need to find them and have a chat before they come to the palace.  You see, he's, well ... my father, that is ... I need to speak to him before ...  Do you know him?  Count Brogovan of Tamecia?  My father, that is."  It is clear to Scarlet that he is lying about something, but it is all so confused that it isn't clear what.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:33, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

Do I know Count Brogovan of Tamecia, indeed? I don't find that name in my notes, but there's A LOT of names in this game. 

"Do I know the count?" she repeats after him, as if it was a question so trivial it was ridiculous to ask. "You would not ask if you knew who I am... and you would know. Who do you happen to be, kind sir?" she says with heavy irony.

No, you don't.  You can have a tough Knowledge Local roll (DC20) even to have heard of Tamecia.  It was chosen specifically by Urvan's mentor since it is small and has little outside contact.

The youth seems suddenly overwhelmed with sadness, or maybe dread.  It is not clear to Scarlet what could possibly be going through his muscular head.  Perhaps that's the problem.  "I-I am Urvan," he stutters, "Urvan of Tamecia."
This message was last updated by the GM at 21:34, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

Scarlet lets some skepticism leak into her voice.

"Scarlet d'Ardelle," she replies, not bothering with more dynastic claims for the moment. She has already been assaulted tonight, and the lad does not look, talk or act like a nobleman at all. But by the same token, he seems too awkward to harbour ill intentions.

"So, you're looking for your father?"

"Well, yes.  Yes, that's it.  I'm looking for him and his group, to, uhh, greet them and make sure that they are properly introduced into the palace.  You see, I've been working as a page in the palace until I have the opportunity to squire for a knight, and then to become a knight myself."  Scarlet knows that most pages are members of minor noble families who are not likely to inherit and are trying to improve their station.  Either that or they are sons of more important nobility and are being held as guests/hostages in order to ensure loyalty by their fathers, but it is not likely such a one would have had the opportunity to leave the palace on his own.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:34, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

"I see," Scarlet says, extremely unconvinced. But it's not really her business if that big lad wants to run around town pretending to be... the son of the count of Whateveria.

"Are you going to take a seat, or you're too highborn to share a table with me?"

Urvan gladly sits at the table with Scarlet.  He continues to be eager to learn whatever she knows of the delegation from Tamecia.  She is able to toy with him as much as she likes -- he's like a babe in social interactions.  After a quarter of an hour, he excuses himself to get more of the soup; he offers to get some for her but she declines.  The lad returns with two bowls, tips the last few swallows of his beer into one, explaining that it is too hot otherwise, and gives it to the dog.  Then he consumes the other, barely slowing down to nod or grunt assent to whatever Scarlet talks about.

Finally he notices the longsword.  "Why do you have a longsword AND a rapier?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 21:34, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

Scarlet shrugs charmingly.

"I'm a collector of sorts. And I am also off to bed, by your leave..."

She gets up.

Urvan stands up when Scarlet does.  "Of course, I ... Are you with someone?  I mean, are you OK to go out alone, like ...?  This is a dangerous place.  Should I ...?  Could I walk you somewhere?"

It is clear he is trying to do the right thing, and has no idea what the right thing is.

Unless you ask him to come with you, he won't.  The guard is still outside at his post.  If you ask again about the room, he will be ask you to wait until the next roving patrol comes by, then he will assign one of them to the post and he and the other two members of the roving patrol will walk you to his home.  If you have Urvan with you, he'll make it clear that you won't need any sort of bodyguard -- he and his men will protect you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:00, Sun 16 Oct 2022.

Scarlet opens then closes her mouth, and takes a long hard look at the lad before she speaks again.

Completely clueless. And not really handsome, or her type, no repartee, too physical and with no style or panache to go with his muscular frame. But still... a boy. One she can wrap around her little finger. And there are yearnings she has known this year for the first time. Or for the first time, they are taking a different shape and feel, ceasing to be formless and undefined, refining and solidifyin around something obvious: a man. A boy. A male body. A lover. Someone to hold her, someone to take her, someone to make her a woman and really take her to the world of adults, like Mother but better, like the Lady Marano but sexier, like the lady Idalaiz but younger...

"Of course I am with someone," she hears herself laugh, and she turns around and leaves him standing there.

Of course she would, the sassy, worldly girl she longs to be. She would have her pick of lovers, by the dozen if she so wished, no need to invite some bad liar from a tavern to her rooms. What sort of pathetic wallfloer is a virgin at fourteen anyway?

Biting her lips, knuckles white, Scarlet heads for the guard, and to bed.

My original plan was that the guard was going to attack you and steal all your money.  I rather doubt that you could win this combat, so either I'd have to let it happen or have Urvan follow you after all, which has a Deus ex Machina feel to it.  I don't see how either outcome moves the story along at all, so I'm just going to skip it.  You've had a fair bit of fighting already in this chapter. 

Scarlet finds the guard, who is true to his word.  His wife is quite surprised, but he says something under his breath to her and she is suddenly all smiles and welcome.  Their son, Nish, who turned "Fwee Yeahs Owd" a month or two before is charming and seems to fall a little in love with Scarlet.  After a late supper of bread and cheese with a small slice of ham, he snuggles up to Scarlet and asks for a "stowwy" before the Mom carries him off to her own bed.  The bed Scarlet stays in is right there in the main room; it is small but it is clean.  The next morning the guard's wife fixes her a simple breakfast of porridge and eggs with a small mug of watered-down wine.  She is oddly reluctant to take the gold pieces.  Scarlet finds out later that the price was as much as the finest rooms in Ten Forward, but it was much more charming.

Arriving the next day at the Palace, there is some consternation about where the cats will be kept.  There is some talk that they should be kept in the kennel with the dogs, or in the stable.  The stablemaster, who is helping to unhitch the horses from their wagons, turns almost white at the prospect.  He mumbles, "the horses" and has a look of horror.

The Duchess says, "Well, of course, my two babies will stay in our room with me."  She turns to Scarlet, "Scarlet, dear, bring them in after you've given them a bit of a trot."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:37, Wed 19 Oct 2022.

Well this is nicer. Remind me how much it was?

Scarlet isn't one of those girls with a maternity drive. She knows a couple of her entourage who're already deciding on baby names, which gets them their royally earned ridicule. But she still has to admit the little one is cute, and she almost makes up some story to tell him. She falls asleep the minute she lays down on that humble but dearly bought bed.

Once she's back into the swing of Palace business (or catty business), she has occasion to frown and smile. The idea of having the almost-feral cats share a roof with horses (dumb, big beasts as they are) makes her wonder who took that dim-witted decision; but when the Duchess herself asks her to bring her cats personally, she beams with pride. She makes sure to treat them to an exhausting, brisk walk first, so it won't be said she lacks zeal...

BTW, random people falling for you is the benefit and the curse of an 18 charisma.  Even when it isn't about sex appeal, there is something in your bearing, your aura that makes people want to be your friend.  So this incident with the little kid is not that unusual.

On the price, I don't recall what we actually said, but I'd retcon it to be $500ish according to the exchange rate we ended up on, so hardly a dent in your new winnings.  Did you do anything to hide it or are you still walking around with a bulging purse?

So I have to admit that I didn't really have a plan for what happens next for your story.  I had more of a plan for Urvan, and I have a plan for the culmination of this chapter, but I was hoping for inspiration to strike me for the middle part.  Well, here goes.

BTW, here's the map of the palace compound:  http://zag.net/Pathfinder/Ellada/palace.png  The large building in the south is the stables; the red building is the kennel where the dogs are kept.  All of the building except the kennel are several stories high.

Scarlet takes Tigris out for a walk first, in order to learn the layout of the palace grounds and to be able to bring the Duchess's cats to her freshly walked.  She goes to check out the kennel, thinking that if it has a similar layout as the kennel in the castle she would be able to suggest splitting it by floors, to keep their nasty dogs well away from the cats.  However, she sees that it is a large, low building, and Tigris starts to hiss even as the door opens to her knock.

Inside, she sees a dozen or so of the same sort of huge dog that traveled with the hulking boy from the previous night, and they all start barking furiously when she enters.  She imagines a fight between Tigris and one of these monsters, and it isn't clear which would win.  Probably in an open space, where Tigris could take advantage of speed and jumping ability, she'd have the advantage, but in a cramped area like this kennel, it might go the other way.  After a quick word with a Lady Stilwell, the Master of the Hounds, they both agree that some other arrangement will need to be found.

Returning to the man called Zaan, with no title that Scarlet caught, she declares that the kennel will not be acceptable, to which he nods agreement.  While he clearly did not plan on refusing the Duchess, he makes it clear that the other two cats will not be entering the palace proper, and Scarlet doubts she has the political weight to force the issue.  Finally they agree on using the same tent that they had been using on the travel, and Zaan leads her and Erikus to a nice section north of the main building where they can set up.  (G4-H5 on the map)  It is away from the horses and dogs, protected from weather, and has a well nearby.

Scarlet takes the first of the Duchess's cats out, then returns to find Heger Ledath putting a harness on Archon.  He grins at Scarlet, "Hey kiddo.  You took off soon after the contest.  I was going to let you buy me a drink with all your winnings.  I heard you took the bookie for a fair bit of coin.  He accused me of sandbagging, which, of course, I did.  I pointed out that there is no rule against it."

He'll wait while you have Erikus harness the Duchess's second cat, then exercise with you.  He'll trot along, easily staying with you, not even getting winded.  His cat is not nearly as well trained as yours or the Duchess's, but he has no trouble just muscling it to behave.  He will chat amiably but is a little distant.  He will confirm that you are prepared to take care of Archon on the days he is busy with The Games.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:05, Tue 25 Oct 2022.

Scarlet isn't terribly pleased at having to sleep in a tent again, in a castle yard of all places, like some sort of itinerant freak show given temporary shelter. But there is little choice, so she sighs and carries on with it.

Scarlett walls the cats absent-mindedly, her thoughts still on the strange encounters in the city. Such a strange and wild place, and exciting at the same time, for someone who's lived her entire life within walls like these. All of a sudden she feels an urge to leave, to see what's beyond the moats and baileys. Will lady Idalaiz ever let her? She has had no instructions from her since she finessed her way into cat duty, and sometimes she wonders if she's actually secretly displeased with her, or perhaps that's all she ever meant for her to be: a glorified pretty minder?

Sir Ledath's reappearance brings her back to reality. She makes a show of being unfazed and unimpressed, gesturing indolently.

"Yes, I had important business to tend to, Sir Ledath. Unfortunately I cannot spend all my time carousing in late night establishments," she says dismissively.

Heger grins at Scarlet's remark, and continues to chat with her.  He is clearly focused on the games, and asks if she knows anything about any of the opponents -- strengths and weaknesses.  Of course, she knows less than he, but she promises to ask around.

When Scarlet brings the Duchess's cats inside, she tries to convince the door guard to allow them entrance, but her refuses.  Finally she convinces him to send a page to his superior, who returns with approval.  (Feel free to explain how you did that -- intimidation, bluff, whatever.)  Scarlet had heard that all the pages at the palace wear the traditional toga, which almost no one wears anymore.  However, that seems not to be the case -- they are just wearing normal trousers and shirts with a tunic.  Most tunics are Lexagenol colors, but some are other houses.

Once the cats are delivered, the Duchess holds out a coin for her, saying, "This is for you, dear."  Scarlet accepts it without thinking.  However, the Duchess has never tipped her before, and it would be inappropriate for her to do so.  Finally she looks at what she's been handed and it includes a tiny slip of paper with the coin.  It barely fits four short words -- the last is just a single symbol in a secret script Idalaiz has been teaching her.  It reads, "Well near tent midnight."

That night Scarlet creeps out of the tent.  Erikus is asleep, with the soft snore that he makes when truly asleep and not faking.  Tigris stands when Scarlet does.  She probably wasn't asleep at all.

Let me know if you bring Tigris or not.  There will be no one around as you approach the well.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:41, Sun 13 Nov 2022.

Scarlet makes a point of answering monosyllabically and with exaggerated uninterest, only helped by the fact she genuinely couldn't give less damns about the games. It is with a knot in her throat that she carries on to the rest of her duties.

The guard proves to be a complete pushover, unequal to her charms. Scarlet has always been disarmingly charismatic, but she can't fail to notice how the way men bend to her wishes has been shifting slowly but steadily in the same direction. Those smiling eyes and the comments about 'sweet child' are all long gone now; they are still inclined to let her have her way, but now the eyes tend to follow the bulging shape of her neckline, and the comments become equivocal and tinged with barely disguised lust. It's strange, unnerving at times, but short of skewering people with her rapier, that's all Scarlet can work with.

After leaving the Duchess, she turns the little piece of paper between her fingers, mind spinning. There are many implications to this, the least important the more obvious: lady Idalaiz is still following her every step, she has a new mission for her, something more serious this time, she hopes. She never wanted to be a pet-minder for life. But other things make this more interesting: this implies that the Duchess is in on her Spymistress' secret. Dearest knows Scarlet is more than a pretty face and a cat-whisperer. That puts an extra spring in Scarlet's step.

She shows up with her rapier by her side and Tigris in attendance, just in case.

Scarlet approaches the well, looking around for Idalaiz, to no avail.  After a few minutes of daydreaming, she remembers her mentor's warning to be doing what an innocent person would do, and she starts to lower the bucket into the well.

"Careful with that, girl!" comes a voice from inside the well.  Scarlet looks down the well to see Idalaiz's smiling face.  "This place is riddled with secret passages!  I had heard about this one, but it took a while to find it from the other side.  It leads into a store room just before you enter into the dungeon."

Scarlet stares into the well and sees that Idalaiz is holding herself up with her legs on one side of the well and her back on the other side.  The old woman admonishes, "Don't just gawk.  Keep drawing water.  You're probably being watched."

After a bit, she continues, "So, my little test for you turned out to be more exciting than I expected.  I didn't expect you to win a bunch of gold and then go showing it off in alleys.  But I heard you managed yourself quite well.  I never did learn where you spent the night -- I know you didn't come back to the tent until morning.  I hope you didn't just hide in the fields or some such."  After Scarlet explains, she whistles appreciatively.  "Do be careful, though, with town and city guard.  It depends on the town, but plenty of the official guard organizations are just criminal enterprises.  I'm glad it worked out for you."

Scarlet draws up the bucket and puts it down for Tigris who laps at it thirstily.  Then she dumps it out and starts to lower it again.

"On to the mission.  Did you bring a disguise kit?  I'll get something put together and have it brought to you.

"The problem is that I suspect that at least one of the knights entering the games is a Gallic assassin.  You know that war has been brewing, and they would further their cause by assassinating one or two key people in the kingdom.  The Queen, our Duke, or Davin Chesterson would all be good targets for them, as would several of the key generals.

"I'm not looking for you to stop a trained assassin, but maybe you could at least confirm who it is.  I suspect it is one of the knights coming from Skopje, in northern Macedonia.  There are three of them, plus they've come with their families and retainers.  One of the families has a young girl maybe three or four years younger than you, just shy of blossoming.  I want you to befriend the girl and insinuate yourself in with the family, and just keep your ears open.

"Do not do this as yourself.  It wouldn't be a tragedy if they figure out who you are, but it's better if they don't.  You're higher born than they, and that will bring too much attention on you from the adults.  We want the adults to ignore you; you will just be two girls at play, and they can talk without watching their tongues.  Disguise yourself as younger than you are, and find a way to befriend her.

Make up a name you like.  I've already discussed with the Countess Brennalia Delfini, whom you might know as she is in the castle occasionally.  She is originally from Corcyra before she married the Count, and you will be her younger cousin who joined her in order to come watch the games.  Stay with the cats until you get your disguise kit, then go join the Count's party.  They are in one of the barracks buildings on the south side -- you'll find it."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:32, Fri 18 Nov 2022.

[Remember that this world is assuming that the Greeks had retained power until humanity reached a technology roughly the same as 1200 AD.  Christianity never existed.  The political system of feudal Europe (that of roughly 1100 to 1500 AD) is the norm, but substituting Greek pantheon for Christianity.  I'm using ancient Greek maps, but Olympia is geographically more like Kilimanjaro, a solitary huge mountain rising out of fairly flat land (i.e. completely incorrect).]

It is almost time for the Olympic games, which happen only once every 4 years.  Knights and nobles from all around are gathering at the Palace in Olympia to compete for fame and fortune.

Meanwhile, the Galls to the north, the ancient enemy of the Greeks second only to the Persians to the East, have been gathering.  Open war has not yet started, but those in the know are aware that the Galls are gathering strength.    The winners who arise from these games of simulated warfare may be the leaders of true warfare very soon.

---

Scarlet

---

Scarlet joined the delegation from the Castle (home of Duke Ashander Rheam) as caretaker of the four Savannah cats travelling:  The duchess' two cats, the cat of Sir Heger Ledath, and her own Tigris.  She has been tasked by her mentor to inveigle her way into a group from Skopje.  The Spymaster believes that this group includes a Gallic spy or assassin, but does not know who in the group it could be.

---

Urvan

---

Urvan, has been acting as a page in the Palace for the past two years, pretending to be the son of the Count of Tamecia.  He now is in fear of his cover coming undone because of questions that Erastoo was asking.  Erastoo is the heavily tattooed leader of the Purifiers, a hyperviolent sect of Hera, who would certainly see Urvan killed if she knew his history.  He has left the Palace, intending to intercept the delegation from Tamecia, and he carries a letter from his own mentor with an offer he hopes will entice the Count to play along with his ruse.

---

Ricka

---

Ricka has a very complicated set of masters she reports to.  First is the Spymaster of the church, Deacon Levician Whyneks who is her mentor and real master.  Second is Bishop Trismegistus of Hermes, who manages the messengers -- the acolytes of Hermes who run messages through the city and even into the countryside.  Third is  Minister Stibu Womack, master of the aerie, though their relationship is cool at best.  Fourth is Archbishop Pelschion, the high priest of Zeus, who insisted that Womack live up to his sarcastic comment that he would give Ricka an eaglet if she could take one from its parents without being bitten.

Ricka's role in the upcoming games is not yet clear.  (Honestly, I'm waiting to see if the player really does re-engage before I go to the trouble of working out a plot for her.)  @Ricka, you can signal this by posting a wrap up in your Chapter 1 thread, naming your eaglet and giving a quick description of your goals in training her.  You also need to make your level 2 changes to your character, which I'll be glad to help with.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:13, Sun 01 Jan 2023.

Urvan Kron, also known as Urvan of Temecia, is perilously close to having the secret of his lineage discovered by the Church of Hera. It would be tantamount a death sentence for the boy, and so he embarks upon a desperate gamble.

If he can intercept Count Temecia without being detected, deliver a letter from his Spymaster and mentor Iwo Behyd, and convince the man to take on the part of his father, his assumed identity may survive intact.

In the mean time, Urvan had heartlessly put forward another boy, Ippéas the stable hand, who arrived about the same time two years ago, as a potential subject for the Church to focus on while Urvan rushes to the Counts side.

This morning sees Urvan riding, in his somewhat novice fashion, with his hefty Apollo Hound keeping pace, as pushes ever onward towards the entourage of the travelling Count.

Urvan buys a supper for himself and his hound at McAnally's, a pub in the center of the town of Osmeisley, where he encounters the most beautiful girl in his own age range that he has ever seen.  Just to look in her face takes his breath away.  When she flirts mildly with him, he is completely flummoxed.  (@Urvan, Please read from msg #85 to msg #100 in this thread, where you play a role.)

After the enchanting girl leaves, he heads out, following her for a bit just to make sure she is safe, but she leaves under the protection of a member of the city watch.  He looks around once again, somewhat in despair, at the incredible throng of people coming and going in this crossroads town.  He had imagined a conversation with a bartender where he received all sorts of information, but the vast crowds converging in order to continue on to Olympia for the games means that bartenders have no time beyond drink orders and payment.

He decides to try his luck at the Prancing Pony, an inn and pub diagonally opposite from McAnally's, when he spots a familiar face.  He sees Gratham, the corrupt priest of Hera, whom he and Gerro recently tormented by releasing rats into his room.  Fortunately, the man did not seem to notice him.  After a moment, he prepares to follow the priest into the Prancing Pony, a little concerned that Boreas will draw too much attention if he brings the hound in with him.

Urvan is understandably concerned about leaving Boreas alone for any length of time. Having been with the big pup for practically it's entire life, he was protective of it, and perhaps like a parent, he could not easily see with his own eyes just how formidable the animal had become.

And then, he was still thinking about the girl he had met, despite her evident disdain.

"We need to find a place to hide you for a time..." He tells the dog, and seeks out and out of the way spot near the Prancing Pony. A small stand of empty ale barrels seems a decent enough place, and with gestures commands and some emphasis, he tells the Hound to "Stay" until he returns.

That accomplished, Urvan returns to the front door and gingerly makes his way inside, his size and coloration drawing a few eyes as he comes through the door.

Urvan enters the pub and it is like walking into a wall of sound.  People having normal conversations must shout to be heard, so, of course, they do.  The room is crammed with more people than Urvan would have guessed could fit in this building, and he is only looking at half of it.  Though the door is in the center of the building, but a wall immediately on his right as he enters partially divides the room, hiding the right half from view.  He can see that the wall extends only four or five paces, though the entire room is twice that.  It's not obvious what is behind the wall, though.

To the far left is a huge fireplace.  There is a fire burning, but it is a gentle little thing for such a pit.  Along the wall on his left are several small tables, each with people crammed around them, drinking, smoking, and talking (that is, shouting).  The center of the room contains long tables with benches, with so many people that every inch of bench is used, and some people are sitting in other people's laps, some on the tables, and many just standing.

The bar is along the far wall, and it is no less crowded.  It extends not quite the width of the far wall, leaving a gap on the left edge where two huge men stand on a platform scanning the room.  The bar continues to the right, past where Urvan's view is obstructed.

After a little adjustment to the noise and chaos, Urvan spots Gratham near the fireplace on the left, talking (shouting) to a man and a woman standing there.  The tall man bends down to hear him, then shakes his head and turns away.  Gratham moves along to the next group, three men standing on the other side of the fireplace.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:05, Tue 03 Jan 2023.

Urvan, spotting the Priest early, was perhaps too distracted by the sudden proximity of the man, and in an effort to remain out of sight inadvertently bumped into one of the serving women, with his bully frame in the tight packed space.

Naturally Scarlet had been impressed by the stamina and athleticism of Lady Idalaiz, considering her old age, but made no comment of her feat in the well. Her eyes did go wide at the mention of an assassin: this way no mean thing, no more concerning herself with petty bets and teenage intrigues. Life and death was on the line now.

And naturally, just as she nodded her agreement and understanding of the lady's instructions, she dreamed of stopping the assassin herself. Hadn't she killed already? She was an assassin too. But she refrained from expressiong that out loud.

"I suppose I can be Naiada Delfini, then. I shall await that disguise kit, my lady," she says before she takes her leave. Behind her restrained demeanor, she is brimming with impatience...

Haha!  Nothing like a natural 1 on a stealth roll.  I hadn't planned on you two meeting so early, so I just rolled for his reaction.  A natural 1 on a skill is not a guaranteed failure in PF1, but his perception is higher than +8, so he's guaranteed to beat your stealth.

14:01, Today: Zag rolled 17 using 1d20.  Gratham reaction (low means attack, high means run)

Urvan accidentally knocks the poor girl flat, her tray of drinks landing on the floor with a crash.  The clatter of crockery on the floor causes a sudden hush followed by laughter.  As Urvan apologizes and reaches to help the girl up, he looks up and locks eyes with Gratham.  The man's eyes open wide, as if he has seen a monster, and he starts to push through the crowd to get away from the lad.

Idalaiz smiles up at Scarlet, "Naiada, that's a great choice, it sounds very Corcyran.  But Delfini is her married name.  She was Penapolous, I think, before that, so you could take that name or make one up and say you are cousins on her mother's side."  The old woman grabs a bar in front of her, then drops down and disappears out of sight.

Early the next morning, a page arrives at the tent where Scarlet and Erikus have made themselves comfortable.  Erikus is already up, and he confronts the boy.  "Who are you?" he asks.

"I am Gerroldivus, a page here in the Palace.  I have a package for Scarlet d'Ardelle."

"She is through there, but you can not go in.  She did not say it was OK, yet."  Scarlet is pleased at how well Erikus has learned his lesson about not barging in to her curtained-off section she refers to as her bedchamber.

Scarlet comes out, finally, and accepts the package, handing the page a few coppers.  It is a cloth bag containing a wig, some clothes, a tight, shapeless corset, some cosmetics, and a reversible cloak.  The cloak has one side a gray-brown that looks dusty and care-worn.  The other side is a rich, dark blue in a silky fabric that looks quite luxurious.

Scarlet barely represses her impulse to pat Erikus' head like he is a well-trained cat. In some way, he is: slightly feral, loyal but unable to grasp social cues, but ultimately noble in some mysterious way. She is satisfied that her murderous fit of rage has at least, it seems, won her the loyalty of the boy. With every passing night she dreams less and less of the dead stable boy, a dark blessing which she does not question too much.

Back in her "bedchamber", Scarlet sighs. She has always been secretly proud of her blond curls, so unusual in court; now she is to wear that stupid brunette wig. She has always had a... complicated relationship with the more obvious marks of her womanhood, namely her breasts. Two years ago they were close to non-existent, which was fine by her but a constant source of scorn from Mother. Now they are definitely a constant presence, occasionally a source of pride as she notices how boys and men steal glance at her bosom, but more often a nuisance as they are tender, need support, get in the way, bounce painfully at all the wrong times. That corset, which she supposed is Idalaiz's way of making her look more childish and less womanlike, is uncomfortably tight. For the first time ever, Scarlet feels squished the wrong way, not upwards but backwards, which feels vaguely self-deprecating, like a denial of herself.

So her first time as "Naiada Penapolous" she is trying to hold down a bad mood, as she heads out to see the Countess Brennalia, feeling simultaneously constrained by that corset, as well as naked, without Tigris and her rapier.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Tue 03 Jan 2023.

Something deep inside Urvan reared up as Graham took to flight. Lady Stilwell of the Palace Kennels would have called it "Prey Drive", some dogs had that innate predatory instinct, and some did not.

It turns out Urvan had it in spades.

Almost unthinking he barreled implacability after the Priest, teeth bared, the bystanders all but forgotten. What his next step was he didn't know, but what he did knew if that deep in his blood he wanted to run this man down, he needed to. It was as simple as that.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:14, Wed 04 Jan 2023.

Urvan, I assume you are not holding back, so make an acrobatics roll for leaping table to table as a shortcut across the room.  Anything below DC10 and he'll get away (because you slipped on something).  10-15, he'll make it into the back room where you'll have another chance at him.  15-20, you'll reach him in this room and can attempt a grapple or attack or whatever you like.  20+ you'll reach him with style, which will give you +4 on your grapple or first attack.  Roll and write it up.

Scarlet, roll disguise.  This kit will qualify as a +2 disguise kit for this disguise only.  It is otherwise an adequate disguise kit for basic disguises (i.e. no minuses).  Describe what you're doing to find your "cousin," but any reasonable thing you try will work.  You can describe her, if you like -- I haven't planned anything other than she's a woman in her late 20's from the islands, and she's expecting you.  We should settle on what sort of accent she and Naiada will have -- you can decide that, too, and I'll follow your lead.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:28, Wed 04 Jan 2023.

Almost too excited by the prospect of the chase, Urvan throws himself with everything he has at the fleeing priest and actually overshoots his mark, where he slams bodily into a table upsetting it in his passage. With a pained grunt and a frustrated growl, the young man scrambles to continue to chase.

13:45, Yesterday: Urvan Kron rolled 10 using 1d20+9.  Grapple Attempt .

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 13 using 1d20+11.  Disguise 9 +2 .

Not amazing!

Chafing because of the tight corset and constantly fighting the urge to pull off that itchy wig, Scarlet askas around town for the Baroness Brennalia, trying to fake a Corcyran accent. She sounds more like a drunken Cretan, probably. She finally finds a page who for a copper points her in the right direction.

Scarlet d'Ardelle rolled 13 using 1d20.  How nice is the baroness?

The baroness turns out to be a heavy drinking lass, who looks at Scarlet over the rim of her third glass of the morning.

"Oh, so you are the... one the lady said would come. Take a seat, and a glass, mmm? I love your hair. At least you're not a blonde, thank the Olympus. I hate blondes. They strut around like 'hey, I'm blonde, look at my tits'. Seriously. I have not met one who wasn't a slut. Pardon my Gallic, I'm not acting now, you know... Oh, acting! By Hera, that's the other thing I hate. Actresses, dancers, the whole lot! I don't know why we should tolerate such a disreputable entourage in court... well, I do. The men, of course! Any excuse to peep an ankle here, half a boob there, all with the flimsy excuse of a ballet or play! Outrageous. And to think some nobleladies are willing to let her daughters take up such rotten activities! Awful. Anyway. What do you do in your free time?"

Scarlet purses her lips and smiles, thinly.

Gratham runs behind the bar and into a door clearly meant only for employees.  "Hey!  You can't ..." the bartender yells after him, ineffectually.  Urvan picks himself up and runs to follow, causing the bartender to move to intercept the big lad.  The barkeep is, himself, a fairly big man and does not easily shove aside.  However, once he is on the receiving end of Urvan's angry glare, he decides that maybe this is a private matter and he does not need to be involved.

Urvan steps through the door just as he hears a door behind click shut.  The room is something of a kitchen, 15 feet ahead and 20 feet wide, though the only cooking going on is a cauldron of stew sitting in some glowing coals on the left wall.  There is a table beside it with stacks of bowls, and another table against the far wall neatly piled with loaves of bread.  Above and beside that are cabinets with bottles of wine and small casks of beer and ale.

An old woman sits in a chair beside the huge pot smoking a pipe.  She looks at Urvan with a complete lack of alarm, as if all the craziness in the world means nothing to her.  Perhaps the contents of her pipe might explain her towering levels of apathy.

There is a door straight ahead and one off to the right.  It's not clear which door Urvan heard close.

Such a great post, but you ended it with her asking you a question. 

Brennalia refills her wine glass, "Cat got your tongue, then?  Oh come on.  Don't be so surprised.  I know you're not really 10 years old.  She said you were working for her, so you have to at least be old enough for a glass or two.  Unless maybe ..."  Suddenly she looks filled with doubt.  "You ARE the one I'm supposed to pretend is my cousin, right?  What is this all about, anyway?"

Scarlet realizes that this person is not one to trust with any secrets.  She'll have to study her for accent and mannerisms, though, so she ought to keep her talking.

Urvan, knowing that time is of the essence, elects to go through the right door, guessing that the Priest may have diverted in an effort to throw him off the track. In any case he guesses that once they are outside, it will be far easier to see which way he might have gon, as long as he had not already put on too much distance.

Urvan opens the door to see the ceiling slanting down steeply only an arm's length away.  Stairs so steep they are essentially a ladder head down into a cellar, and there is no light at all coming from that direction.  From the reflected light, he is pretty sure that the stairs go down 7 or 8 feet and open out to the right (back towards the pub).

Would he have heard Graham descend the stairs? Was he on the wrong track entirely? There was no time to question it with every second being precious.

Urvan took the stairs three at a time, down into the subfloor, hoping against hope that he was not too late.

Scarlet sighs.

"Yes, I am the one, sent by the lady Idalaiz. I gather you know her well? Pray, tell me all about it?"

She accepts that glass, and drinks gladly, for she is not looking forward to the long monologue she is to study for mannerisms and turns of phrase.

You didn't even think of asking the doped-out old woman watching the stew pot?  I mean, it wouldn't have helped, but ...  :-)

Urvan realizes that the stairs are too steep to take three at a time, but just jumps easily to the bottom, hoping that its location isn't an optical illusion in the darkness.  Landing cat-like, he peers into the dark room.  It is just a root and wine cellar, with a strong scent of onions.  It is only ten feet wide and extending maybe 20 feet.  It is crowded with the sort of supplies a publick house would need:  barrels of ale, a shelf along one side with wine bottles, two sides of beef hanging along with ropes of garlic, bins of foodstuffs, etc.  There are plenty of places to hide, but the noise from the crowd above still seeps through, meaning he probably wouldn't hear someone who is controlling his breathing well.

Suddenly, what little light Urvan is working with diminishes, and he looks up to see a head and shoulders blocking the opening.  "You there, what are you doing?" calls a deep male voice.

Almost simultaneously, Urvan can "hear" Boreas making a low growl as someone approaches him with a heavy scent of hatred and fear.  The lad realizes that there's no way he could actually hear this, it is more of a feeling.

08:28, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 25 using 1d20+7.  Acrobatics on stairs.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:52, Fri 06 Jan 2023.

You know, I got the impression that any conversation with that would be very slow, if he learned anything at all :)

"Looking for someone..." Urvan shoots back with irritation, but then a strange and uncanny feeling comes over him, and he realizes that Boreas has likely caught the  scent.

Graham had gone the other way, likely straight into the back loading area where Boreas had been commanded to stay!

Urvan doubled back and ran up the stairs. "I'm leaving, no trouble from me." He insists, energized now by his new lead and the potential risk to his good canine friend.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:16, Fri 06 Jan 2023.

Brennalia grins slyly, "Oh, the old snake.  Sure, I know her.  She's trickier than she lets on.  Back before she needed a cane to walk, she used to be quite the hot shit at court.  (Pardon my Gallic.)  She would act all demur, the quiet wallflower, but *I* know what happened to Count Escardiff.  Not that I have any problem with it; the old lech deserved what he got."

She rambles on about old court conspiracies for over an hour, needing little prompting to continue, as Scarlet learns to copy her speech patterns and mannerisms.  It's not exactly clear if these traits she copies are regional or personal, but it probably doesn't matter much.  People will see the similarities and assume exactly the sort of relationship she is trying to emulate.  Scarlet also notices that Brennalia seems to like her more as she starts to emulate her.  I guess people like a mirror, or, at least, she does.

Free Trait:  If you spend at least an hour working on the acting aspect of a disguise with a model to imitate, you get +2 on the disguise roll.  Once you've established such a disguise, you need only 5 minutes to get back in character for that one disguise specifically, which can be done while preparing the physical parts of the disguise (i.e. clothes and makeup), to maintain the +2.  You can only have your level / 2 such disguises available at a time.  If you spend the hour to establish a new disguise, you'll lose your connection to an old one.

After some time, Brennalia returns to why Scarlet/Naiada is here.  "So you're supposed to be *listening* for information that will *help* the Rheam's champions, like maybe that dream-boat, Heger?  Tell the truth.  You're going to slip a little somethin' somthin' in their food.  Right?  I know how the old snake works.  She's set you up with some concoction that will make them a just little slower.  That's it, isn't it?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:54, Fri 06 Jan 2023.

Urvan scrambles up the stairs, the big man grabbing him and pulling him up the last two.  The man holds the boy by one shoulder and one wrist, and has a powerful grip.  However, breaking grabs was one of the first things Urvan learned in his family's form of martial arts.  He swings his free arm over the hand on his shoulder, breaking that grip just with the massive leverage imbalance.  He grabs the thumb of the hand holding his wrist and twists, forcing the big man to drop to his knees.  Urvan steps away easily and escapes through the back door.

Urvan turns left down the alley, realizing that this must connect to the alley where he left Boreas.  After two more quick turns, he sees the big dog still lying where he was left, but his hackles are raised and his legs are tensed as if for a leap.  The hated priest has just finished hugging the wall furthest from Boreas and turns to run into the crowded street.

Urvan was in a wild state of excitement.

If Graham reported back to Erastoo she would certainly be able to put the pieces together and realize that Urvan on the Page she had been searching for.

And yet it would not take anybody investigating here much effort to learn about this pursuit.

The damage was done, all that was left was to strike back first, while the Priest was alone and vulnerable, to take vengeance for himself, his family and the girl he had forced himself upon back at the Palace.

"Boreas, attack!" Urvan called and pointed to the fleeing priest.

Urvan was fast, but Boreas was all the faster and they had been training with the thick padded sleeves. He was confident that the animal could bring the Priest down, or at least slow him to the point where Urvan could come up.

What's more, the dog could smell him, Urvan knew.

The young man's desperation flickered back into hope. They were not done yet.

Are you really sure you're ready to kill this guy right out in public? 

Boreas has no trouble, of course, catching the priest in moments.  By the time Urvan has made it to he end of the alley, Boreas has attacked Gratham from behind.  (Roll an attack.)  Urvan emerges to see that the street is crowded, a woman is staring at the huge dog and screaming.  There is a guard station just a little way down the street, though Urvan does not see any guards emerging from it at the moment.

Gratham shouts "Demon Dog!  Get away, you foul monster."

You can't make this up...

Urvan emerges from the inn into the crowd and is forced to take in the reality of the situation. The screaming, the witnesses, the proximity of the guard station.

Boreas nips and barks excitedly but is unable to gain any real purchase, and as much as Urvan wants to run the man down and kill him, a desire so powerful that it surprises even himself, being faced with the sheer amount of people forces him off the chase, although he has to pry his mind out of its almost primal fixation to accomplish it.

"Heel" Urvan barks above the screaming, and with one last look over his shoulder, he flees.

Scarlet has been repressing an urge to yawn, as she had to focus on registering the baroness' turns of phrase and body language, but now she lets it out, shrugging with exaggerated insouciance.

"Some notion that is, my lady, that I am here to poison or drug some champion or the other. Say, by any happy coincidence, is my lady considering betting on one champion or the other? I do ask merely out of curiosity, without any ulterior motive, you understand. And would you happen to know what the betting odds are currently?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:45, Sun 08 Jan 2023.

As Boreas breaks off, Gratham looks up and spots Urvan calling the hound.  Urvan can already see that the man's trousers are dark with urine.  The priest of Hera slowly raises a shaking hand and points, "Mormolyce!  Blood Servant!" he bellows, spitting in fear and anger.  He continues to shout as Urvan slips away.

What do you want to do next?  If you simply race directly away, there's no one who could possibly catch you.  If you circle back around to follow Gratham, then you'll need a stealth roll, hopefully better than your last one.

---

The Lady Brennalia smiles at Scarlet, "Naah.  I don't follow the betting odds.  I'm not even sure where you'd go around here to lay a bet.  I do know that my husband's fool brother doesn't stand a chance.  Put him in there with a half dozen eight-year-old children and I'd give him even odds, but that's about it.  Throw in an accountant with a well-sharpened quill and he's done for."  She laughs at her own joke.

She does seem to pick up on Scarlet's hint.  "But I'm keeping you.  I'm sure you have super secret stuff to do.  Anyway, we've got this bed here for you," she indicates the couch that Scarlet is sitting on, and points to a blanket on the floor beside it.  "Use it as you need, and we won't be watching your coming and going.  My husband thinks you really are a distant cousin.  He's a man and can't be trusted with any sort of secret -- it's not like men ever know what's going on, anyway."  She raises her glass in a gesture of salute and then drains it.

The complex and potent cocktail of hormones and emotions that welled up with Urvan was enough to cause the youth to gnash his teeth practically tremble as he ran. It was not fear, but the co-mixture of rage, anxiety, fear, vengeance, confusion and a host of other feelings.

Had he utterly failed? Had he been discovered? It certainly seemed so. They knew of his existence and now they had put that nebulous notion to a face, his face.

Mormolyce, the Priest had uttered it himself. A word strangely familiar but without a definite shape in his mind. Had he heard it? Seen it somewhere? He could not recall.

What he did know if that the notion of the Priest reporting to Erastoo was a potentially lethal one. If he could not run down the Priest in the crowd, he would have to circle around and try to catch him  some other way, hopefully alone, and now Boreas had his scent.

Trying to work out the trajectory of where Graham had gone, Urvan slowed, caught his breath, and began a wide circle in search of his quarry.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:11, Mon 09 Jan 2023.

Urvan makes a large circle -- with his speed almost no one could keep up with him.  He keeps an eye out for Gratham but does not spot the man.  Finally he approaches the intersection from the opposite direction in which he fled; any commotion that the disturbance caused seems already to be died down.  No one has noticed him, and it doesn't appear that anyone is looking for him in particular.

Even from a distance he can see the wet spot where the priest soiled himself, and the tracks lead not towards Olympia, as he expected, but deeper into town.  Perhaps Gratham has a room nearby or -- this is a disconcerting thought -- perhaps there is a temple to Hera that houses him.  His ranting about a demon dog and a blood servant might get some traction there.

12:39, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 4 using 1d20.  luck.

---

Ricka wakes up, anticipating another busy day.  With the crowds of people arriving for the Olympic Games that start in another 3 days, the demand for message-bearers is limitless.  On her usual route, she skips the terrible tippers, but instead makes herself available in the marketplace for the wealthy visitors to wave her down.  Even though they frequently refer to her as a 'page' (Yick!), they usually tip well.

Zana circles high above, riding the thermals that come off of the paved streets.  Ricka looks up to see the eagle in a dive.  When the bird next appears, she can see something in its claws, probably a rabbit.  Either someone with a vegetable patch is now grateful, or someone raising rabbits for meat is now angry.  Well, they should have a cover on their run, then.  Zana disappears behind some trees, headed to the mountain for a meal and probably a nap.

Aristotle approaches Ricka, waving.  He is in his late teens and one of the most senior of the message-bearer apostles of Hermes.  "'Why no tip' is looking for you." he says.  "Before you ask, I have no idea."  Ricka knows that "Why no tip" is the nickname all the messengers have for Deacon Levician Whyneks, the spymaster who is her real master.  Since he usually tries to stay distant from her publicly, him asking for her specifically implies that it is something important.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:26, Tue 10 Jan 2023.

Everybody's having a good day, that's nice, Ricka remarks to herself as Zana soars out of sight.  A beautiful bright breezy day, the messengers are all making a killing in tips, Zana caught herself a nice lunch, the city is all buzzy with anticipation of the games, and Ricka is feeling content and well-adjusted in her new routine.  So even if a summons from Deacon Whyneks - whom she definitely does not know very well at all and who is certainly not her secret assignor of illicit extracurricular activities, no, not at all, what a ridiculous notion - even if it's out of the ordinary, she's feeling optimistic about it as she heads for his office.  Until and unless he indicates otherwise, she'll maintain character as just another random messenger girl, summoned for some ordinary messenger purpose.

Ricka arrives in Whyneks' office and shuts the door.  He gives her an odd look, and she realizes that he is still struggling over some decision.  Finally he speaks, "We've had something come up.  You're the right person to take on this task, but you're still so young, and I worry you're not ready yet."  Ricka bristles a bit at being called 'young' but she knows that she still is, at least in his eyes.

After another few minutes of some internal debate, the deacon sighs and finally continues.  "Under all the chaos of The Games, the Vayu followers have been moving assets into the area, and we think that they are working with the Anahitans, planning an invasion."  Realizing that Ricka's religious education is probably lacking, he gives her a quick overview.

quote:

Vayu:  Persian god of the Wind, and the messenger of the gods.  However, I'm throwing in god of chance for the narrative value.
Anahita:  Persian goddess of War (and fertility, health, and healing, but war is the aspect we Greeks care about)

If you Google these, you'll arrive at the Hindu-adopted version of them, but I'm using these sources:  https://study.com/academy/less...rview-mythology.html   https://www.worldhistory.org/a...f-persian-mythology/

So, just as we're positing that Christianity never took hold in this world, I'm claiming the same for Hinduism.  I like the fact that the Persian version of Vayu is the messenger of the gods, putting him directly at odds with Hermes.  This background almost certainly won't matter, but I like to have the tapestry laid out.

"The avenue through which they are moving in is the gambling halls.  It's a classic move to control powerful people -- get them in debt, then leverage them with threats of exposure and ruin.

"We think that they always had fingers in the Luxor (the third largest gambling hall in Olympia), but never really controlled it.  However, they have recently taken over the Wynn (the largest).  The old manager, Senegrave, seems to have mysteriously disappeared, and your old friend Vinefinger has been promoted into his place.  He's just garden-variety greedy and evil, not intentionally treasonous, but he's also too blinded by his own ambition to understand what he's really getting into.

"His sudden rise seems to be sponsored by a group of Vayu worshippers that we've been watching, and they've been altogether too close to the church of Anahita.  Normally we wouldn't care which degenerate organization controls the gambling -- well, the priests of Hermes would, but not the rest of us -- but with the tie in with Anahita, we all need to worry.

"I'm looking for you to get some information about the organization.  Maybe find out what happened to Senegrave, maybe cut down Vinefinger if he's really guilty of treason, intentional or not.  We can get you placed in the kitchen, there, with a little cover for the work you're supposed to be doing, but we don't have anybody higher up in the organization.  The alternative is that you make nice with Vinefinger, and get into his inner circle.  But I'm not convinced that is even possible."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 16:21, Wed 11 Jan 2023.

Ricka just quietly contemplates this information for a long minute.  Going back to Vinefinger doesn't sound like the most comfortable plan ever.  In fact it sounds decidedly uncomfortable, especially as compared to the relative luxury she'd gotten used to over the past two years.  But if she could finesse it right, it would be a far sight better than scrubbing pots or kneading dough for hours every day.  Tiny fragments of a plan commence whirling in her head, mostly bouncing uselessly off of each other, but occasionally adhering under the force of their own gravity.

"Making nice with Vinefinger would be...  complicated but possible.  I'd just have to be sure I brought as a peace offering something he really wants, which in this case would be proof of whoever it was that actually stole from him in the first place two years ago.  How much time do you think we have?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:20, Fri 13 Jan 2023.

Urvan glances this way and that as he approaches the spot where the Priest had urinated on himself. It had not been long, and part of him was hopeful that Boreas might be able to perform one of the tricks they had been working on hunting small game around the outskirts of the Palace.

He let the hound sniff with interest at the puddle and he saw as the canine began to follow the scent in a particular direction.

"Can you track him boy?" Urvan asked with a hint of excitement.

(I had to go reread your prologue to recall what it is that Vinefinger was after you for.  It was just that you had been feeding information to Whyneks and he somehow figured out that it was you.  I know that when I wrote that, I was thinking that you actually were the guilty party, the mole he was looking for.)

Whyneks ponders.  "Maybe that is the best approach.  If he hasn't figured out by now that it is you working as a messenger, it's because he has forgotten all about you, or just doesn't care that much.  But if it gets back to his crew that you're still around, he will either have to make an example of you or else claim that the whole thing was his idea from the start, and his search for you was just to provide you cover to get inside the church and spy for him.  He's certainly clever and flexible enough to go for that, but there has to be something in it for him.  Perhaps step one is to figure out what that might be."

What would the DC be for tracking someone who is dripping urine?  DC 5?  Yeah, he succeeds -- even if you were to roll a 1.
 Generally, though, if you are using a skill of yours or your dog's, please go ahead and make the roll.

Even though the puddle of urine is already nearly dry, Urvan can still make out the priest's first few steps away from it by the visible trail of splash drops.  Boreas, of course, has no trouble following the scent even after the lad can no longer see dried droplets.  After two and a half blocks down the busy street, the trail turns down a small but very pretty road lined with gardens in full bloom.  Three blocks ahead, he can see a temple -- the sort of non-denominational temple that will have a shrine or small chapel to each of the important deities.

Boreas, sniffing away, follows the gardened road for only a block before turning off to the left, where sits a small building, only 15x20.  It is painted sage green with white trim and is surrounded by flowers.  The symbol of Hera is on the door.

https://www.architecturaldesig...side-porch-560011tcd
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:05, Thu 12 Jan 2023.

[Aha, I'd been remembering the bit where Ricka was told that "word on the street" was that someone had stolen Vinefinger's money.  I'll snip a bit of Ricka's dialogue from that last post if you don't mind!]

"Do you think we can arrange for some other operation of his to get busted by the city watch, but then I could warn him just in time that a bunch of his guys are about to get pinched?  Maybe then he'd believe I'm not trying to burn him.  How long do you think we have, before the Anahitans are ready to invade?  Weeks, months, years?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Fri 13 Jan 2023.

Whyneks nods, "A good idea to seal the deal, but would probably be suspicious if you lead with it.  Let's start with the job in the kitchen, you can find out what is really going on, and maybe you'll work out something he really wants.  There's a good chance that he is not as happy with the deal he got from the Persians as he thought he would be.  Get some specifics and we'll figure out how to rope him in."

Ricka asks, "How long do you think we have, before the Anahitans are ready to invade?  Weeks, months, years?"

The spymaster responds, "Months, at least, probably years for any of this specific action to take fruit.  They are going to wait until we are deeply embroiled with the Gauls before they do anything, but I don't even think that this is likely to impact that.  This is some deep planning stuff by them, probably by Saman Hanifnejad himself; it his sort of approach.  They will get some level of control over low level functionaries, and help them rise in the organization -- make them feel a sense of gratitude.  They they'll exploit them when they have power.  We want to cut that off before it even starts."

When you made post #141 above, it sparked an idea for what Vinefinger would want from you.  Think of it as an initial quest that is part of the larger task.

Urvan feels an echo of the same intense emotions from earlier in the evening come back to him as he catches sight of the symbol of Hera, and yet the consequences were still very real. Was he too late? Had Graham already reported?

Or was he still within?

And if he was, was Urvan really ready for this?

There was no time to waste, and only one way to find out. He gave Boreas a congratulatory rub down then made a slow perimeter of the building, trying to determine the best way inside.

A brief, ill-concealed pout at the notion of downgrading from fake message courier to fake scullery maid.  "... we're embroiled with the Gauls?"

Ricka has precisely zero sense of patriotic pride; she assumes she would have been just as happy growing up in any other city or country in the world.  (Or, more likely, she'd have been just as miserable.)  As such she's perhaps less personally invested in international relations than Whyneks might hope for.  But likewise he'd also be well aware that rather than queen and country, her loyalty is to Whyneks himself.  So she makes an effort to care about the things that are clearly of surpassing importance to him - stuff like rumors of war and big-picture political schemes.  Often, her efforts are even mostly successful.  Germaine to the subject at hand, Ricka has a vague suspicion that the Gauls are...  somewhere to the west?

Urvan slips up on the small building, trying to approach in a direction that anyone glancing out the windows wouldn't be likely to see him.  Since it is such a nice day, the shutters are open and he can see the sitting area in the front is empty.  (Glass windows aren't really a think, except for stained glass in churches and temples.)  As he makes his way around to the right, he hears a discussion,

"Mor-mo-lyce?  You say that's a blood servant of what again?"

"The Lahmians.  It's an ancient cult of people, not quite humans, that drink human blood to feed their immortality."  The second voice, clearly Gratham, is speaking very quickly, with an edge of panic.

"And this dog, it's a demon?"

"Yes, blast it.  It's an offspring of Cerberus, and shows his ties to Hades.  The thing breathes fire!"

"Wouldn't he be a lot wealthier if he were tied to Hades?  You say he's a pageboy.  And you say you saw him out here, and that's your evidence for all of this?  Maybe he's just doing a delivery,  I kind of think you've been talking to Erastoo too much.  You know that she sees schemes, plots, and dire creatures in everything, right?"


11:41, Today: Zag, on behalf of Urvan Kron, rolled 21,26 using d20+6,d20+8.  Perception, Stealth
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:59, Fri 13 Jan 2023.

As Urvan hears the Priests voice, the young man grows still, barely breathing, and listens intently at the words he can make out coming from within the interior.

Even Boreas stops, although how much the Apollo Hound really understand Urvan is not quite certain.

Urvan closes his eyes and calms his breathing as he was taught many years ago , making it a little easier to hear, making it easier to concentrate on what he must do.

The Priest was in conversation, but given his current excited state he doubted that the Priest would be heading back out into the streets, which meant that Urvan would need to enter the structure and prevent the lecher from reporting to his superiors.

But there was another, presumably also of the clergy, and what they might do Urvan was not certain.

Graham had unknowingly put this other Priest in danger. Erastoo would certainly put no small effort into investigating this evenings events, and now that this other man had been brought into the circle, Urvan girded himself for the practical thing to do.

If he was forced to kill one Priest, would a second be all the more damning?

Urvan analyzes his situation tacticly.  He hasn't poked his head up to look in the window, but just from the voices he can tell the that other priest, the one who probably lives here, is closer to the window, probably within reach of it.  Gratham sounds as if he is a few steps away, but facing the window.

Looking around, Urvan sees that here on the side of the house, he is visible from the road, but only for a short section of it.  A vined trellis separates this yard from the next and also blocks much of the view of the road.  If there were any shouts from the house, they would probably be easily heard if there were any passersby to hear them.  He does not see or hear anyone on the road at the moment.

The window he crouches below is about 4 feet off the ground.  He could climb in with ease, but he would not be ready to fight instantly.  If he dove in and rolled once, that would be quicker, but that assumes there is space to roll in and no major obstacles.  Or possibly he could start with a diving attack, which relies on his accurate placement of the individuals based on sound, but has a big advantage of surprise.  Boreas could probably jump in the window in one try, but it isn't certain, or he could be commanded to wait outside to make sure no one escapes.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:35, Fri 13 Jan 2023.

Urvan is torn.

Launching an attack on two grown men on their home ground was challenging enough, but he was faced with the prospect of trying to do it relatively quietly and without permitting either to escape.

And that's if he was truly committing to killing these men, a daunting and life changing prospect. He was not certain if even the palace guards had ever been called upon to kill anyone, and they were obviously much older.

Could he do it? Should he do it? What would Iwo say?

The older man, ever practical, would probably recognize the utility of removing them, much as one would take a piece from a chess board. A notion far easier said than done. Iwo would not have to live with the consequences, although Urvan suspected that the man had taken more than one life in his career.

And of course what of his parents? Graham was not there that day, this other man likely had not concept of what Erastoo and her servants actually did. But he was part of the same organization. Did that mean that he deserved the same fate?

There was precious little time to debate the matter.

If he waited too long, they might separate and he would need to track them both down separately, potentially in more crowded areas. Or he might be seen, or any number of complications might arise.

Here they were, both in the same room, both unawares. The time was now.

With a whispered command to Boreas to guard the exterior, Urvan takes one last steadying breath and prepares to launch himself through the window in a diving surprise attack.

Urvan moves away quietly, positions Boreas on the little porch surrounding the door and tells him to 'guard.'  He knows that the huge dog will not let anyone pass this point, at least, not without a lot of trouble.  The boy returns to he position under the window to hear Gratham still ranting.

"There were dozens of them, 40 or 50, at least, disgusting little vermin!  I tell you, it's one of their powers, to control rats and make them do their bidding."

Kneeling beneath the window, Urvan performs the breathing routine in preparation for the attack, his first life or death struggle, knowing that if either men were to escape, it could mean his very existence.

Adrenaline flows, lightening limbs, and his heart rate increases dramatically, right before he takes a few steps back and launches himself up into o the window frame.

Deftly he clears the frame in a bound, using one hand on the sill to carry him forward into the room, he sees Graham for a mere instant before he slams into the man, a closed fist slamming with bone shattering force into the cartilage of the sternum.

A shock goes up Urvans arm from the impact, telling him he had made solid contact.

15:49, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 22,11,2 using 1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4.  Standard Action, Attack vs Graham, Surprise Round, Stunning Fist.

15:45, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  Initiative w/ Adrenal Rush.

Holding here before first round of combat to see if Stunning Fist takes effect

The hated priest draws breath for a shout when he sees Urvan, but his voice is cut off as the boy slams into his chest with full force.  Gratham remains sitting in the chair with his mouth agape and his eyes bulging, looking just like a fish.  The other priest, who was sitting on the bed, is too shocked even to move.

23:52, Today: Zag, for the NPC Gratham, rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Fort save v. DC13

What is the extra d4 for?  Edit:  Oh, Bleeding Attack.  OK.  Probably internal bleeding, in this case.

BTW, I normally wouldn't care about a made-up name, but it's Gratham, not Graham.  I had a very good friend in high school (part of my D&D crowd, actually) named Graham.  I wouldn't want to sully his memory by association with this awful character.  (He passed away a decade or so ago.)  I had been assuming it was a typo or auto-correct, so I didn't say anything until now, but I'd prefer you have the correct name (or, at least, a different incorrect one :-) ).

This message was last edited by the GM at 06:15, Mon 16 Jan 2023.

Ah, very sorry. Will make a point to get it correct going forward.

The extra d4 is for the Bleeding Attack feat.

Urvan feels the soft tissue crunch beneath his fist, but almost unthinkingly he follows up with a blur of a combination against the seated and stunned Priest.

His right hand already occupied, the left palm smashes into the mans nose with a subtle crack, bringing the head back so that the right hand, now recovered, can follow up with another stiff jab to the now exposed throat. The boys eyes are narrowed in concentration, lips pulled back, his entire body coiled like a spring, little hisses of exertion escaping from him as he subconsciously controls his breathing.

Inwardly there is a sort of mute shock as he looks on, almost like an observer, as his body performs the motions he has practiced by rote since early boyhood, never having truly been employed until this very moment.

22:20, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Crit confirmation .

22:19, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 18,6,2,28,8,2 using 1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4,1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4.  Flurry attack vs Gratham.

Ricka asks,  "... we're embroiled with the Gauls?"

Whyneks nods, then shrugs, "Yes.  Well, not exactly, not yet.  But they are building forces on our northwest border, and it's just a matter of time.  The big fertile land of Epirus calls to them, I'm sure.  The Duke of Epirus, Ashander Rheam, has a good system of defenses, and a stronger army than that of the queen, but even so he'll want support from the crown if they invade in force.  If -- When that happens, that's when the Persians will likely attack from the northeast.

"If the Persians are smart, and I know that many of them are, they will try to continue to appear weak and uninterested, so that we commit more of our forces to fight the Gauls.  That is some of the reason it is so important to them to control some of the important counsellors to the queen.  Just one counsellor arguing that the Persian threat is years off could convince our leaders to send more of our troops west.  Or they might argue that money could be better invested than in defensive structures to the east.  There are a hundred ways that a traitor in the high chamber could undermine our ability to withstand them."

Whyneks sees Ricka's attention starting to drift.  "Anyway, we've got a plan that I think works.  Get in there with the cover that we have set up, but start by trying to figure out what you could give to Vinefinger to get back in his good graces.  Tell him that you were caught stealing from packages you were supposed to deliver, and the blowback also got you burned with the police.  Once you're in with him, you can learn more about the Persians and what they are trying to do.

"Vinefinger probably knows that you meet with me a bit too much, but I do not think he knows my real role.  He believes you have been working with a secret police unit working out of the temple to Themis, and that I am just your go-between.  No reason to enlighten him."

"So Epirus has lots of big nice farms and the Gauls want to be in charge of them, what do the Persians want?"  It's definitely a bit of a challenge for Ricka to muster much passion for the matter of which government of greedy rich old men gets to ignore and/or bully the people of Epirus.  Nonetheless she nods, doing her level best to absorb the geopolitics update, and mostly succeeding: as long as her international-relations lessons come in occasional bite-sized nuggets, she keeps up with them just to make Whyneks happy.

The Vinefinger question, on the other hand, leaves her unsettled.  "... I think maybe you don't know Vinefinger like I do," she says.  "If I come to him empty-handed and begging, he'll just make a show of cutting my throat in front of everybody, just to make a point about loyalty.  If I'm not going back to him already -with- something he wants, he won't even listen to me."

Finally something Scarlet/Naiada can agree on. She nods in agreement and gets back to her feet.

"Very well then, 'cousin'. I shall go about my business now, and our dear Idalaiz will hear about your much-appreciated helpfulness."

With a curtsy she goes out, thinking about the next steps of her mission.

With him flat-footed, that will crit.  I've got 37 points on him so far (bleeding doesn't stack).  He's done.

As Urvan drives a cat's paw into Gratham's throat, he can feel the trachea collapse.  The priest reaches up, weakly, one hand on his own throat and the other in a useless defensive posture, then collapses in his seat.

The other priest stares for a second in horror, then jumps up and runs out of the small room.

You have an attack of opportunity.  He's running for the front door, just trying to get away, so he's about to have a bad surprise.

---

Whyneks shakes his head at Ricka, "No, I didn't mean to approach him until you have something.  Go in under cover, first.  You're getting really good at disguise ..."  He makes an unusually long pause, as if this reminded him of something, "... so you should be able to keep from being recognized until you have something to go to him with.  At that point, it's up to you whether you keep up the disguise or you approach him as yourself.  Either way, if he finds out you're there, use that story of being burned by the police.  You might hint at pretending that you were working for him the whole time, but he has to think it is his idea."

The spymaster goes on to tell Ricka about the card house.  "Your contact is Aresh Comocker; she's the manager of the kitchen there and also acts as chef when the head chef is out.  She'll get you in as a scullery maid, and she'll cover for you when you are away from work.  You and she can work out some story.  If you get in over your head, she can help you get away from there, but try not to burn her.  You also can always run to our old friend Markos the Fat.  He's still in his chandlery.  Let's go with a recognition code of 'Do you have any candles that smell like a cockatrice?'  I'll let him know."  He gives Ricka more of the hair dye that he used long ago, if she wants it and sends her off.

---

Scarlet heads out of the palace, towards the tent city that is growing in the empty space surrounding the palace walls.  She wanders to the area she understands that the knights from Skopje are supposed to be staying.  The tents are clearly in groups, generally surrounding a collective cookfire.  She narrows her search down to three such groups, and then has to come up with a strategy for finding the right one.

Move to the Chapter 2 Part 2 thread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:21, Wed 18 Jan 2023.

There is a remarkably tense moment, a half second of stillness as Gratham realizes that he is dying, when Urvan recognizes what he has just done, for the beginnings of a fundamental chance to taker place in the boys mind, and that moment is interrupted by the sudden flight of the other Priest.

Urvan swivels reflexively to find the man already rushing past him, and in a flash he uses his momentum to bring up a knee in a close range thrust, impacting with a loud thud, as the strike connects just below the sternum angled towards the lungs

08:54, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 10 using 1d20+8.  Critical Confirmation.

08:54, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 28,11,2 using 1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4.  Attack of opportunity.

Ricka gladly accepts the hair dye, looking happily forward to another interval of being a mouse-brown brunette.  "What are you going to tell Bishop Trismegistus about why your nephew's daughter is suddenly vanished?  Or do I just disappear and let him wonder?"

Whyneks shrugs.  "Don't worry about Trismegistus, I'll let him know.  Remember that you are supposed to be fleeing because you stole from a package delivery and you've been burned with the police that you were snitching to.  I don't know that Vinefinger gets any news from inside the messenger system, but probably.  And I don't know if he's been keeping tabs on you, but probably.  You have to assume that he does; always assume your enemies have more intelligence and more information, and you won't be surprised."

Move to the Chapter 2 Part 2 thread.

I edited this because it was really terrible advice from Whyneks originally.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:17, Wed 18 Jan 2023.

The priest barely manages to turn enough to avoid the worst of Urvan's devastating knee to the abdomen.  He stumbles past, running for the front door.  When he opens it, he let's out a girlish squeak and pulls back into the room, slamming the door.

Let's finish this fight in this thread, then I'll make another.

He is now 15 feet away in a direct line, so you can charge if you want to.   https://www.d20pfsrd.com/gamem...g/Combat/#TOC-Charge
I predict it won't go well for him.

This message was last edited by the GM at 05:24, Wed 18 Jan 2023.

Urvan, hot on the Priests heels, I'd there when the man turns around, charging across the chamber.

The young man collides with the man, a shoulder check to the center mass, the sound of meat and bone colliding filling the space.

22:25, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 29,8,2 using 1d20+10,1d6+5,1d4.  Charge Attack.

The priest looks grim, but he makes a brave show of it.  He seems feeble, but he makes a pretty good swing that catches Urvan in the temple.  The boy realizes that he probably would have avoided it if he hadn't charged in, but it's not a serious injury.

16:35, Today: Zag rolled 16,3 using d20+2,d4.
I thought, "It hits!  Oh, no it doesn't, because of Adrenaline Surge.  Oh, wait, it does, because of charge attack."

Urvan feels the impact as a sort of dull thud, but the adrenaline is still surging, if waning, and he continues his ferocious assault.

Another fast series of jabs to the face and body, followed by a hook as he tried to lay the unfortunate witness low.

09:55, Today: Urvan Kron rolled 15,8,4,13,9,2 using 1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4,1d20+8,1d6+5,1d4.  Flurry attack vs Priest.

With the first blow, the priest staggers back against the door and seems to be collapsing.  The second blow drives the air from his lungs, and he falls, having already taken his last breath.

Urvan peeks out the window and sees the small road still empty.

Urvan starts to tremble slightly as the adrenaline runs it's course, he feels cold and vaguely nauseous as he sways on his feet, puts a few fingers gingerly to the place he was struck and looks around.

Two grown men lay dead or dying, his knuckles ache, and his mind is flooded with the implications. He is a killer, a murderer, and yet in the case of Gratham, he cannot help but feel that some measure of justice has been done, for the girl, for the family, for the other victims the man may have claimed over the course of his life and career.

The urge to eat rears up amid it all, sharp and urgent, and that seems to prod him into action. What's done was done, and he would undoubtedly think about it later, perhaps for the rest of his life.

Urvan takes a moment to return to Gratham, dead where he sat unable to stand with his lungs collapsed, and Urvan quickly searches him as Iwo would want. He only spares a minute, as he wants to be away before anyone else happens along.

Once that's done, he climbs back out the window and calls softly to Boreas, eager to make his way back out and away, and to eventually find something to eat.

As Urvan checks the man's body, he notices that there is blood all over his own hand from nose explosion he caused earlier.  He looks down, and there is a noticeable amount of blood on his own tunic.

Gratham has a large leather pouch, similar to the mail pouches that the acolytes of Hermes wear as they are carrying messages through the city.  Opening it, he finds some smallclothes, a coin pouch with 27 gold and 13 silver pieces, and a letter which had a wax seal but the seal is already broken.  The letter says



Urvan feels he is about to faint with fatigue and hunger.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:47, Thu 19 Jan 2023.

Urvan reads the letter once, then again hastily.

Had this all been for nothing? Had he killed the Priest to protect a secret that the enemy already knew?

No, no upon the second reading they knew his name, they knew of him, and his story, but it seemed that they potentially did not know much more. Hopefully, he thought, that might be the case.

He took the coin and the letter, folding it carefully, and left out the window, giving a very low whistle for Boreas to join him.

With some more coin in his pocket, he would seek out some food, but not here, not nearby. Someplace else.

He had to endure a few more minutes, find a place to wash, and then he could sate himself.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:23, Thu 19 Jan 2023.

Just as Urvan is joined by Boreas, he hears a noise on his left.  The doors of the temple opened, and now people are coming out.  They are still 2 blocks away, and the trellis with flowering vines block the way, so there's no chance they can see him, yet.

Urvan can't believe how weak his limbs are.  He feels as if he will collapse any second.  He thinks of the stew that he ate while he sat with that beautiful girl.  Earlier, he couldn't get her off his mind, now he can't think of anything but the stew.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:26, Sun 22 Jan 2023.

Urvan looks warily to the crowd, guessing that he is escaping the grisly scene in just the last moment.

Weary and a little light headed from the fatigue, Urvan moves off, wondering where he might find some water or hanging laundry to try to clean himself up before he could find something to eat.

Well, I was hoping for a little more about how you would leave the area without being noticed, but the reality is that  having you be noticed by the crowd does not produce any interesting narrative that doesn't back us into a terrible corner.

Keeping the flowered trellis between himself and the growing crowd, Urvan moves away from the road.  Behind the house, he and Boreas hop a low fence that is just decorative, not functional.  He sees that the land dips down into a small culvert before emerging in the back of some large, flat building.  Pushing his way through briars to the bottom of the culvert, he finds a small, silty stream slipping along on top of a layer of dark mud.  Almost mad with hunger, he copies Boreas and drinks directly from the dirty water, gaining a little temporary relief.

Figuring that mud is better than blood, he splashes the water on his shirt and trousers, making dark smears which look a little less like he has just killed an innocent man.  Boy and dog leap over the stream at a narrow point where they only get their feet muddy, and climb up to find that the building is the back side of the largest inn, called Ten Forward, which he recognizes by its distinctive architecture.

Moving to your separate thread.