Game Thread III. The Silver Cornucopia - RPG Crossing
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  #1  
Old May 6th, 2011, 04:24 PM
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III. The Silver Cornucopia

Silas and Dan, having just rescued the Mayor of Archeebald's wife from a hideous, shape-shifting crawler, are recovering from their injuries with a glass of brandy, in the Mayor's own living room.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Krimchee View Post
Silas licked his lips with nervousness. He didn't like that bit about not being in danger now. Not one bit. He eyed the "guards" at the door. He didn't like what he saw. Not good odds. Not good odds at all if it comes to that. Swirling his brandy around the base of the mug, he noted how some of it held to the smooth inside, and dripped down in tiny rivulets when he stopped. He took a long pull off the mug. Gods but that's good. It was very probable these men knew all about what'd happened in The Hollow. He was a little fuzzy from the grog. He'd just been starting to feel warm and fuzzy too. Now, looking at the familiar uniforms, he felt a chill. He wanted to curse. He drained his glass again. For courage, he thought. He felt like an injured buck, surrounded by wolves. But there was nothing for it.

"We're on our way from Leman's Hollow, Silas began, trying to seem confident. Best stick to the truth here, he thought, They seem to know much already. He intentionally didn't tell his name though. Not telling was not the same as lying. "We were on our way here to deliver a bit of Dan's father's wine, and to sell some crawler plates." All true too, he thought. Silas paused to take another shwaggle of brandy, only to realize that his mug was empty. He set it down on the table with regret, folding his hands in his lap. He made a conscious effort not to wring them. "Which are all still in the canoe, by the way. It was either abandon them or freeze to bloody death. Silas looked up at the men around him, reminding himself of where he was. Watch your bloody language fool or they'll flaming hang you by your flaming innerds. "As we came down the bridge, there was a thing. It was like a crawler but not. It stood on two legs. It was under the bridge when we passed. It was about to make a meal out of your lady-wife, sir. Silas paused, looking up at the mayor. After a moment, he looked back down towards his feet. Gods do I sound like a flaming half-wit. They must think me mad. He continued anyway. "I'd fought crawlers before, but this.... Silas shivered. But this was unlike anything I'd ever seen sir, and not in a good way. So I took aim and shot. Thought that'd be the end. Silas shook his head, his shoulders shaking with rueful laughter at himself. "But is wasn't no flame...I mean it wasn't meek as a deer sir. So after getting soaked to the skin, and seared by its spittle, we managed to wound the thing enough to kick it into the river. And here we are sir. I'm just happy we made it out with our hides."
Mayor Sommers smiles kindly at young Silas’s words, despite a wary shifting among the guards at the door. He says, “'Dan’s' father’s wine, you say? Word was spread around the various towns of two boys who were lost on the river some months back. People from the Hollow gave up looking around the time of the first frost.” Lawrence looks to Dan, who is having his purple fingers wrapped by the long-haired healer. “If you were bringing your father's wine up the Yakawanna, then that would make you Dan… Dan Heina, son of Sy Heina, yes?” Turning back to Silas he says, “And you would be his friend, Silas Mota. A young man with a dark past… wanted in the Hollow for murder, and that's a fact. I reviewed the warrant myself some months back with Constable Aldus when it came from the Hollow.”

He notices Silas’s cup is empty and reaches for the brandy, offering another splash. “But that brings us to the events of today. Constable Aldus is no more… I question when exactly he was 'no more.' Probably around the time they stopped looking for the two of you. That’s when the strange things started happening here in Archeebald. Maybe there’s a connection, maybe not.”

The mayor pours himself a glass of brandy and continues. “In any case, you saved my wife’s life, and you eliminated a dangerous foe to the people of Archeebald. As I said, you have my thanks for that.” Now his eyes narrow. Perhaps Silas’s earlier explanation was a bit too veiled for the mayor’s liking, or maybe Mayor Sommers thought the boy had more to hide. Either way, he didn’t seem satisfied with the exchange. He says, “But Archeebald has a Compact with Leyman’s Hollow… as we do with all the law-abiding towns in the valley region. We're legally bound to apprehend and surrender wanted criminals to the proper authorities. That means that, technically, I’m obliged to send a known murderer like you back to the Hollow in chains for trial.”

One of the men at the door, the bigger of the two, who’s beard ends in a braid, begins sliding his short sword from its sheath. “Mayor, with all due respect, I can take over from here,” he says with a growl.

“No, not quite yet Constable Lukas. Due to the personal nature of the situation, I feel it’d be right unkindly of me to say “thank you” and then put these young men in the clink.” The grim-looking Constable pauses a few feet from Silas as the Mayor continues. “So I’m going to offer you two boys a deal. For saving my wife, I’m going to look the other way on your status as a wanted man – or wanted men, seeing as Daniel here is suspected of harboring a murderer against the will of the authorities. So as of right now, you boys are free to leave Archeebald, and I won't send Constable Lucas here to chase you. Your canoe is still by the river.”

He shrugs and gives a warmer grin. “Or I can make you honorary Guardians of Archeebald... Adopted sons of the community, with all the privileges that the title can bestow. As such, you’d be under the protection of this township, and I would personally see to it that all charges against either of you are waived. Why, if you were a Guardian, the folks in the Hollow couldn’t take you off to jail any more than they’d take me to jail.” Everyone knew the title of Guardian came about in the early days of the settlements, forty years back. It was a wilder time, when there weren’t so many walls, and the crawlers would roam in among the farms at night. In those days, the bravest men would gather together and patrol the lands. These were men who had already proven themselves by great deeds, and they were treated with esteem wherever they went. The title was rarely given to people these days, however, so you’re somewhat surprised to hear it. Still, saving someone from a beast from the woods was one of the deeds that defined a Guardian.

“Guardian! HA!” Dan chuckles from his chair. He was freshly bandaged and the brandy had already reached his head. He laughs again, slurring slightly. “Gard-ian indeed. Yeah, that sounds good, we’ll take that option.” While Dan is talking, the red-skinned healer goes to look after Silas, quietly inspecting the acid-burn wounds on the ranger’s shoulder with a careful eye.

The mayor laughs as well, and the guards look at each other questioningly. “No, I’m afraid it isn’t as easy as just that, Daniel Heina. Before I can award you true Guardian status, you and your friend would have to complete one more task… just to ensure that you are worthy of the title.”

“What kind of task?”
Dan asks, suddenly more sober now.

Lawrence says, “To hunt down a man, someone who stole something from the town. It was a special horn, made of silver, and it belongs to Archeebald. It was made by Them Who Were Before, and is priceless.” “Them Who Were Before" was a common term for the Ichvaal, the vanished First People who left their strange dolmens and shrines across the land. “You need to find this horn, and bring it back. If you also bring the head of the man who has it, I’ll throw in a hundred gold pennies for each of you, and we’ll put a damn plaque up in the town hall, confirming your honors.” He grins. “Well, what do you boys say?”

Dan’s eyes are wide, “Think of it Silas, a plaque in the town hall!” It’s hard to tell if the wizard is serious, or if it’s the brandy making him giddy.


Last edited by mountainbound; May 6th, 2011 at 04:42 PM.
  #2  
Old May 7th, 2011, 03:08 PM
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The young man wearing the animal pelt approaches Dan. He stands about six feet tall and is very lean. A leather strap tied around his forehead is adorned with feathers from the ear to ear around the back. His feet are clad in fur-lined leather moccasins, and hanging from his belt is a large bone attached to a long strip of looped leather. What Dan notices as the young man approaches, though, is how very vital he seems. His steel grey eyes are bright and alert, the black hair falling down his back is thick and healthy, his skin, though weathered by sun and wind, is nonetheless unblemished. He does not appear to be overly strong, but is very fit. He is ruggedly handsome, and his abundance of vitality only emphasizes that fact.

"I am called Fahd. May I?" he inquires quietly, pointing at Dan's arm. That Dan's arm and neck are injured is obvious, but when closer examination reveals the nature of the injuries Fahd's eyes narrow. He nods as Silas describes the creature they had fought, as if it confirmed his evaluation of the injuries. "You are fortunate," Fahd murmurs, obviously trying not to interfere with the conversation between the mayor and Silas. "The muscles can still be saved. Assuming, that is, that the grackle spirit doesn't interfere." Fahd ignores the confused look on Dan's face and shifts his examination to Dan's hands. "Your fingers, too, will be fine," he murmurs after a few moments. "The healing will have to wait until the mayor has come to a decision about you."

Fahd moves over to Silas as the mayor makes his offer to the boys. His eyebrows raise questioningly when he hears the offer of Guardianship, but he remains silent as he examines Silas's wounds. When the mayor then describes the prerequisite, the recovery of the silver horn, his face takes on a thoughtful look. An artifact of the Ancients? If I were able to use it to contact a spirit of one of the Ancients, I might learn much about the worms. At that point something else catches his attention, namely, the weapon Silas is carrying. His eyes go slightly unfocused, as though he can see something that is not visible to the others. After a few moments his eyes return to normal.

In the silence that follows Dan's response to the offer, Fahd speaks up. "Before these two can go anywhere they will need healing. It can wait until after their decision is reached," he says, "and will be more easily accomplished if we are alone." He then addresses Silas. "I have heard the story of the man who took the silver horn. He has a mountain lion as a companion. If you agree to the mayor's proposal, the spirits may be willing to assist in finding him."
  #3  
Old May 9th, 2011, 08:21 PM
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Silas took in the mayor's words with dismay. He eyed Dan hard. You picked a flaming fine time to go and get sauced, he thought with annoyance. He swirled his mug of brandy, then took a slow sip to buy him a second to think. What to do, what to do....think, curse you! Silas' mind raced, clawing frantically to see through all the tangled branches of possibilty to his best chance of getting out of this with his, and Dan's, hide intact. It didn't seem like he had much of an option. By the look of the thugs by the door and their keeness to throw him in the clink, Silas didn't think he'd get far before the louts came a'callin. Not to mention any ties they may or may not have had to the late abomination named Sheriff-bloody-Aldus. That left this bloody fools errand of a quest. He didn't like it.

Silas flinched at Fahd's words as if he'd been goosed. He turned to look at Fahd for the first time. His attention had been all on the mayor. He eyed the man, trying to weigh him. Isaiah, he thought, how are you mixed up in all of this?[/I] He met Fahd's eyes with what he hoped was steel of his own. Well, he thought, why the heck not? Bloody worm-like abominations spitting on me, saving wives from god's cursed cocoons, and bloody almost turning into a popsicle from splasing around in the flaming ruddy river during the flaming winter and being blackmailed by a mayor who is holding a hanging for murder over my head to go fetch him the bloody Horn of Valere. Some bloody thanks that is. She must be a shrew. Why not go with the furry fellow who's talking in riddles about flaming Isaiah and his flaming cat who we met in the gods cursed Ichiavellian ruins before we floated around for a month? Why bloody not? At least he's not trying to hang me. Yet. Silas nodded in acceptance. He almost chuckled at the abursdity of it all.

"Your grace is too kind, Silas said without making too much effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "We'll take your offer, and go out after the horn. But when we find it I'm going to hold you to that pledge of plaques on the wall. Silas raised his mug in salute. Maybe he was getting a bit sauced himself.

Last edited by Krimchee; May 9th, 2011 at 08:27 PM.
  #4  
Old May 10th, 2011, 09:53 PM
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"'Your Grace?' You're far to polite for a murderer," the mayor says. "Well, I'm glad to know that you are seeing things as clearly as your friend here."

Dan smiles weakly at the comment, the brandy making his head spin. "Wheres... wheres dis guardian... I mean wheres dis guy. The guy who stole the thingy. Yeah. An... whats tha plak look like?" Being asleep for four months, then embarking on a physically exhausting ride up a frozen river, then having to fight for his life against a monster -- all of this had seemingly left Dan quite thirsty, but sitting there cozy before the fire the wizard has been trying his damnedest to drink his fill. With glazed eyes, Dan brings the mayor into focus.

Lawrence smiles patiently and responds, "We don't rightly know where he's gone. Talk is that there's a trader who has a love for trinkets pillaged by the shines built by the First Ones. He winters up in Mayfield, due nor--"

"I helped kill that cra-ler too," Dan interrupts. "Silas is good shot wit the bow, but I can hold my own too. I got... I got powers."

"Indeed,"
the mayor says, irritation playing across his face for a moment. "If we're done here, I have arranged a room for you at Barrett's Pub. I believe that is where you are staying too, isn't it, Young Master Fahd? And how is business? I hope you're finding Archeebald a decent place to spend the winter months." The mayor rises, offering his hand to shake with the two heroes. "Fahd, I trust you can show these two the way to the pub? Lukas will see to the boys' canoe. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to my wife."

DM's NoteThe mayor seems to have no qualms about Fahd joining Silas and Dan, if that was what was being offered.

If either of you have other questions for the mayor, please ask now. Otherwise, you can return to Barrett's where the innkeeper is expecting Silas and Dan. The "heroes" from Leyman's Hollow can enjoy pre-paid room and board for the next two days. Fahd has been paying for his room by doctoring the people of Archeebald for the past several months.
  #5  
Old May 11th, 2011, 02:13 PM
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Fahd's expression remains placid at the Mayor's words, though inwardly he winces. To hear the healing services he has provided since his arrival at Archeebald described as business is uncomfortable. Fahd has never asked any of the townspeople for payment for his services. Some of them insisted on paying him, and for their pride's sake he accepted a token fee. Poorer families tried to repay him with foodstuffs, most of which he couldn't eat, but which he redistributed to other poor families. Fahd has little need of their resources. His food he forages in the surrounding countryside, his winter diet consisting mainly of nuts and roots, supplemented by fish and other small game, and Lynx will occasionally share his kills with Fahd, too.

Fahd accompanies Silas and Dan to Barrett's Pub, making conversation along the way by naming the inhabitants of the houses along the way. "The Harrows live there," he says, pointing at a smaller house. "Two boys, 10 and 12. Somewhat accident prone, those two. I've healed broken arms on both of them, and treated many lesser injuries. Boys will be boys, right?" A little further along he points at a somewhat larger two story house. "The Furlands. A girl, 14, and a boy, 12. The boy is sickly," Fahd continues, a troubled look on his face, "and I have so far been unable to do much of anything for him." Fahd glances up to a second story window where a large bird sits in the sill looking back at him. There is something eerie about the bird, focused as it is on Fahd.

When the three arrive at the Pub, Fahd waits for the other two to collect their room key then follows them up. "Let's take care of those injuries now, shall we?" The shaman sits down on the floor in a lotus position and motions Dan to sit down in front of him. He then unloops a bit of the leather cord holding the large bone at his waist and sets the bone across his legs. Reaching inside the pelt he wears as a robe he pulls out what appears to be a collection of porcupine quills bound at one end with some kind of twine.

Fahd begins tapping the quills against the bone, slowly at first, then at a faster pace. Occasionally he rubs the quills along the length of the bone, producing a rasping sound, then he goes back to rapping the quills against the bone at various points along the length. Even though different points produce different sounds, the result is far from musical. After the first minute there is a pause in his effort, his hands falling momentarily still. Then the rhythm begins again. There is a somewhat mesmerizing quality to it, and after another minute Dan begins to sense... something. He can't see anything, but his skin begins to tingle and the hairs on his arms begin to stir. The skin, muscle and nerves eaten away by the crawler's acid begins to reform before Dan's eyes.

Dan and Silas remain unaware of the conflict which just occurred in the Spirit World. For some reason the Grackle spirit, which heretofore had only interfered with his attempts to gather information about the crawlers, had actively interfered with his attempt to heal Dan. Taken by surprise, Fahd had been unable to overcome the Grackle's interference to gather the spirits necessary to heal Dan. Once he was aware of it Fahd had been able to focus his skill sufficiently to achieve success. Perhaps the Grackle didn't like what they did to the odd crawler they vanquished, Fahd thought to himself.

Perform Ritual
Dice Perform:
d20+9 (1)+9 Total = 10
Dice Healing:
2d6+2 (6, 3)+2 Total = 11
Perform Ritual, 2nd Attempt
Dice Perform:
d20+9 (12)+9 Total = 21

With that 1st perform roll I'm going to treat the 1st attempt as a failure due to interference from the Grackle and use the healing roll with the successful 2nd attempt.
rolls

Last edited by Tangler; May 12th, 2011 at 12:47 AM.
  #6  
Old May 11th, 2011, 09:44 PM
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It was a relief when the party finally arrived at Barrett's. Gods but I'm tired, Silas thought. He was looking forward to a night in a bed. A bed, he thought. When was the last time I slept in a bed? His whole body hurt. But as Dan and Fahd sat down, Silas noticed just how ragged and rough Dan looked. He could only imagine how he looked himself. Looking in the wash-stand mirror he was shocked at the face staring back at him. Dark circles surrounded his grey eyes. A scraggly, unkempt beard littered his face, but could not hide the gauntess that was there now. Silas had never been particularly round, but the depravation of recent times showed clearly now. His brown hair was a tangled mess not unlike a squirel's nest. He even reached up to pluck out a bit of dried leaves from it. Combing out the knots was not going to be pleasant.

As Fahd began to work, Silas watched in interest, his fatigue and pain momentarily forgotton. He'd learn bits and pieces about healing form The Old Man back in The Hollow. Most of what The Old Man did involved herbs, ointments or maybe some leaves crumbled in a tea. Silas had learned how to tie a bandage and the importance of keeping a wound clean to ward off infection. Porcupine quills were definitely not involved.

When Dan's wounds knitted themselves whole right in front of his eyes, Silas was stunned. "What the....How did you...? he sputtered. That was true healing. The wounds were gone! Fahd, he asked a moment later after he'd collected his wits enough to string a sentence together, "how did you do that? "
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Old May 12th, 2011, 02:03 PM
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Fahd slowly turns his head toward Silas, and it is another few moments before his eyes seem to focus on him. The shaman gathers his thoughts, then replies, "The spirits provided the healing. All I did was call them and provide them a focus. As a rule the spirits pay little attention to the physical world, but if one with ability and training provides them with a focus for their energy, they are generally willing to help." Unless a malevolent spirit drives them away, Fahd adds to himself.

"Have a seat. I will now do the same for you."
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Old May 12th, 2011, 08:40 PM
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"The spirits! Silas said disbelievingly. Only there was nothing to disbelieve. He'd seen Dan healed. And there he was, whole and, well if not exactly hale, looking a dang sight better than he had a few moments ago. He eyed Fahd with his furs and his porcupine quills. He ran his fingers through brown, tangled hair nervously. Bloody day can't really get any weirder, he thought sardonically, and sat down for Fahd to do his thing. Gods he was tired. Looking at Fahd he said, "Let's get it over with.
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Old May 13th, 2011, 08:37 AM
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After Fahd sees to Silas and Dan, the two “heroes” each find their own bed, stuffed with goose down but smelling like dog, but neither notices. It was just past noon, but each of the boys sleeps until well past sundown. They wake, almost simultaneously, to the sound of raucous laughter. One thing was clear, there was a huge crowd below. As Silas fumbles with the fire, Dan says, “I feel damn good for having killed a bloody crawler today. That fellow with the feathers in his hair does good work. But think of it: a real crawler! Not just a dumb centipede, but… wait a minute, what about our plates?”

But when the ranger finally gets the wick kindled, the boys see that someone has brought their supplies up from the canoe. There was Dan’s dad’s wine, their meager bag of supplies, and Silas’s satchel stuffed with well-cured centipede plates. “Sh!t, well that answers that.” Another loud bellow of laughter rises up from the pub below. Dan grins. “What do you say we go down and see what all the commotion is about? Might be able to make a deal on Dad’s wine while we’re at it.”

If Silas had any reservations, the angry rumbling in the pit of his stomach is quick to overrule any argument. Room service was not an amenity that the owners of Barrett’s Pub were familiar with. In a few moments, the boys make their way down the rickety wooden stair, blasted in the face by noise and smoke. A gleeman with a shaved head was singing an old sea shanty, sitting by one of the windows and strumming a wooden harp. He nods to see the two newcomers. Few in the room are paying him any mind, and the din of three dozen conversations drowns out most of his careful string work.

When Silas and Dan begin pushing their way to the bar, other people take notice, and the room grows quiet. Everyone stares at the two boys from the Hollow, and then at once the place explodes with questions. “Are you Master Silas? You really kill someone?” "Sit and have a drink with us!" “Eh, I don’t believe the likes of those two could kill a crawler.” “What were you doing on the river in winter? That’s crazy!” “You really save Mrs. Sommers? What the hell’d you go and do that for?” “Where’s the wine? I’ll give you twenty pence for the lot of it – no twenty-five!” These and many other comments are thrown at the two boys. The people of Archeebald crowd in around them so close that there’s no hope for getting to the bar.

As luck would have it, Fahd is sitting alone at one of the corner tables, not far from the singer, waiting for a special mix of mashed tubers and squash – unseasoned – that he had taught the innkeeper to make special for him. There is an open path to his table, and the boys quickly change direction, finding empty seats next to the healer, and trying hard to become invisible before the room of curious villagers.

DM's NoteBy now, most of the town knows about Silas and Dan’s actions from earlier in the day. They also know they came to sell wine. Offers are made by various patrons, but the barkeep, Randy Schmitter, knows a good business transaction when he sees it. He gives Dan an offer the wizard can’t refuse: seventy gold pennies for the precious cask (untasted!), and first buying rights to Sy Heina’s wine whenever he wants to sell it in Archeebald.

Given the task in front of them: Dan slides half the profit to Silas. Both boys will need to buy cold weather gear and other items. Silas now has 35gp to spend. For the sake of time, we won’t be RPing purchases. Just list what you want to buy in your private thread. If you want something that you can’t afford (like an armored coat, etc), you may be able to convince the mayor to lend it to you, but that will require RPing the request and making some rolls.

Randy the innkeep also informs you that your room and board are paid for today and tomorrow. That said, you will need to begin making a plan about what to do after that, since you won’t be able to afford staying at an inn on your own, and the Mayor is expecting you to head out sooner than later.

  #10  
Old May 15th, 2011, 03:11 AM
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Fahd is eating his evening meal, a mash of tubers and squash, when Silas and Dan join him. The innkeeper had looked askance at Fahd when the shaman requested that the seeds of the squash be included in the mash, but had acceded to Fahd's request. The meat of the squash, the part most people eat, provides nourishment for the body, but it is the seeds which are the greatest source of the prana Fahd requires for his interactions with the spirit world.

Fahd eats slowly, savoring the different flavors and textures in the mash, stopping only to answer when either of the two young men has a question. When he is done he pushes the bowl into the middle of the table and looks at Silas. "Are you aware that there is a spirit tethered to your sword? I sensed it earlier, but I didn't wish to delay your rest. May I examine it?" Fahd sees little point in telling Silas that the spirit appears to be malevolent, or at least hostile to Silas, before he has had a chance to commune with the spirit.
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Old May 15th, 2011, 08:59 PM
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Silas wasn't sure what to make of Fahd's strange request. But the way Silas looked at Fahd, one might think that Fahd had sprouted three heads. Very ugly heads. "A spirit," he said dryly. He gave Dan a look that said "This guy's off his rocker." Then he turned to Fahd and asked, "What do you mean there's a flaming spirit "tethered" to my sword?" But he unbuckled the rapier from his hip and handed it to Fahd anyway. He'd seen Dan do magic. He'd seen Fahd heal Dan. He himself believed that there was more to the world than he could see with his eyes alone. Anyone who'd walked alone through old growth forest could tell that. Hadn't he eaten deer hearts still warm to "honor" the prey, and to take in some of the animal's spirit? But believing in spirits and actually talking to them were different. This ought to be interesting, he thought.

Perception Checkperception check

Dice Roll:
1d20+9 (20)+9 Total = 29
  #12  
Old May 16th, 2011, 03:36 AM
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Fahd accepts the sword from Silas, but before doing anything with it he attempts to answer Silas's question. "Sometimes when a person dies, their spirit becomes tethered, connected, to something in the mortal world. This may happen when the manner of their death was violent or unjust, or it may be that the person had a strong personality and an especially strong connection to something in life. An especially skilled shaman can also tether a spirit to an object. However the spirit becomes tethered, it then sees and remembers whatever happens around the object it is tethered to. I mentioned earlier that spirits pay little attention to the mortal world. A tethered spirit is an exception to that."

Fahd picks up the large bone from his waist and sets it on the table in front of him, then lays the rapier across it. Using Ibram's leg bone isn't really necessary, but sometimes helps to communicate with a reluctant spirit. Before Fahd can even ask for his friend's help, though, the spirit tethered to the sword senses Fahd's awareness and begins to communicate. A flood of images streams into Fahd's mind. When the spirit has shown what it wants Fahd to see, however, Fahd delves deeper, drawing forth the memories the spirit had not intended him to see. After a time Fahd opens his eyes and pushes the sword back to Silas.

"The spirit attached to the sword is old man Jenson's," Fahd tells Silas without preamble, "and he hates you. He says you are a no-good murdering scumbag." Fahd raises a hand to forestall any protest Silas might make. "That is what the spirit wanted me to see. Once the connection was made, however, I was able to see everything. His memories showed me what kind of man he was, how he treated his family, the circumstances of his death. I don't know if what he did deserved death," Fahd says with a shrug, "but he brought it upon himself."

"Because his spirit was tethered to the sword, his memories also included the events which followed after you took the sword. The fight with the crawler near Lehman's Hollow, your flight from there, your fight with the plant, your meeting with the man who, if I'm not mistaken, is the man you were just hired to track down. Even your long slumber in the ruins after pulling the lever was revealed to me." Fahd makes no mention of their travels to the other ruins.

"I believe Isaiah gave you an arrowhead? If you still have it, it may prove useful in tracking him down. By the way," Fahd adds as an afterthought, "it would likely take some time and be very difficult, but I may be able to change Jenson's attitude toward you. Even making the attempt would sour his attitude toward me, but if I were successful, his skill with the rapier might be added to your own."

Last edited by Tangler; May 17th, 2011 at 12:33 PM. Reason: Fixed tenses
  #13  
Old May 17th, 2011, 04:38 PM
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Silas looked from the worn, leather wrapped hilt of his now-familiar blade, to Fahd, then back again. "So what you're telling me is that the blade is haunted", he said in a flat voice, "By Jenson. That's great. Just bloody great." He picked up the sword, feeling it's familiar heft. He looked at the undulating steel quillions that flowed around the crosspiece of the weapon as he turned it in his hand. Was that little bit of glimmer a malevolent gleam? He was imagining things surely. But he did kill the man with his own weapon. If Jenson trusted it the way Silas trusted his bow, it would have been a betrayal of the deepest kind.

"What's that? The arrowhead? Silas fished it out with awkward hands. Bloody haunted sword, he thought with annoyance as he absently handed the arrowhead to Fahd. "Change his attitude! Why would I want to change his attitude? He was a mean old bloody low-life of a man who beat up on women," Silas said with disgust. He hadn't meant to kill Jensen, sure, but he deserved it! He bloody well did! But the idea that Jensen's skill could be added to his own...that certainly sounded useful. "How?" he asked, thinking about that momentary malevolent gleam. He was imagining it, surely.
  #14  
Old May 18th, 2011, 01:43 PM
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Fahd smiles gently at Silas's question. "Jenson was all the things you say, it is true. Such I could see even in his own memories, filtered as they were by his biases. And that," he says with emphasis, "is exactly why his attitude should be changed. Spirits are sometimes, rarely, returned to the mortal world in newborn children. That is why two children, born to the same parents, can have vastly different temperaments. The transition back to the mortal realm erases the memories of their previous life, but their instincts and attitudes often survive. If Jenson's spirit can be persuaded to become more gentle, the future might well be improved. As for how it could be done... I would have to be very persuasive," he concludes with a smile.

The shaman runs his fingers lightly over the arrowhead, his eyes closed. After a few moments he cocks his head slightly as if listening to something, and his brows furrow in concentration. For some time he remains like this before he opens his eyes again. "Curious," he says. "The arrowhead is ancient, perhaps thousands of years old, but is not a tether, so I do not believe it would be useful in tracking down Isaiah. However," he continues, "the arrowhead does have spiritual significance. It appears to be created for and attuned to you, Silas. Which is... difficult to understand, because in order to be attuned to you, someone with the knowledge of how to do so would have to have infused some of your memories into it." Fahd pauses, frowning, then shakes his head. "I cannot explain it. Aisha, the shamaness who trained me, has much deeper knowledge of the spirit world and might understand it." Perhaps... Fahd speculates. Is it possible Isaiah is a shaman? But I saw him perform no rituals in the memories I gleaned from Jenson's spirit. Fahd shakes his head again in uncertainty.
  #15  
Old May 19th, 2011, 10:52 AM
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Before Silas can respond to Fahd's strange words about the arrowhead, the singer who was performing near the window pushes his way over and sits down at your table. The man is not truly bald, as you thought at first glance, but his hair is receding, and he wears it in a long ponytail which trails down his back. His eyes are wide and mirthful, his teeth brown, his girth impressive. "Oh man, I seez a story in the makin here," he says with a thick Richardson City accent.

"My name's James, youz can call me Jamie if you like. You two killed a mean one -- shapechanger it was. Not all da crawlers have fifty legs... some are smart, and will eff wit you bad. A Stalker, that’s what it was that took over poor Aldus. And there's worse things out there too. Believe me, I travel all over doing gigs, and I seen lots of crazy stuff. The stories I can tell... the ones I don't sing about... they'd freeze your blood." He lowers his voice and raises an eyebrow. "Here's a tip: look for the Old Ruins when you're on the trail. Crawlers don't like the places built by Them Who Were Before. If you're heading north, and talk is that you are, then there's a ruins on a rise in the middle of the pine forest."

Dan shrugs, setting down his mug of stout with a thump. "We're not going to need them. Mayfield isn't too far up the river, and we got a canoe."

The bard takes a sip of beer and shrugs, his fingers absently thumping a fast rhythm on the table. "Well then, here's another tip: Everybody here knows you're tracking the Horn, but some folk don't want it found. Don't you believe that bull about how it was stolen. Look at the source of the story: a Stalker in the shape of the constable! I say it was a big setup, a rouse... and them who live Below are behind it.” He motions around the busy bar, and you see many glances in your direction. Many are innocent gawkers, looking to catch a glimpse or share a word with the two heroes from the Hollow. There are even a few comely girls making eyes whenever they get the chance. But what draws your attention are the faces of dark, cruel men glowering at you from behind their mugs, or under worn hoods. Jamie's voice is low, “Yeah boys, them from Below have many eyes, many ears, many hands. I’d be real careful if I was youz.”

He looks to Fahd, whom he had met before, and says, “You going with them, spiritchaser?”

Last edited by mountainbound; May 19th, 2011 at 10:55 AM.
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