[Game Thread] Group 2 - Ch1 - Strayers and Stayers

[97mg]

Year 1165 - Springrise (early spring season) - Morning Quarter

Weather: Hot with storms brewing to the west

A Mountain Home The history of this strange mountain home is contentious at best, all but the very stonework itself stripped bare in long centuries past, though one might expect that if the walls could speak, they would probably scream. Porus Pollapis, a local teller of fortunes, and shady undertaker's grandfather, well he believes that well over six or more centuries ago, a small but well-equipped procession of dwarves discovered the mountains of Straya. These rocky peaks held quarryable marbles, granites and glass-hard stones of dazzling quality, color and scale. For all the opportunity such a discovery offered however, were equal dangers and risks. Not just rockfalls and the typical kinds of incidents that might happen in such an untamed locale though, for there were greater issues! It didn't take those in the surrounding lands all that long to hear of what was at first a dwarven outpost. So who were these neighbors? Orcs. Ogres. Strange demons? Yes! This was a wild lawless land, and in many ways still is. Yes, the years and isolation might have tamed things a little, but if you ever walk within the walls of Straya-town, you better watch your back. Anyway, back to Porus and his research! For a time, it is said that the dwarven settlers did well, even with the great distance required to transport their heavy gifts back home to the far northern peaks. The Straya Stone came to be worth a small fortune. Wealth and ample building materials, what more could a dwarf ask for? Their numbers flourished and a great fort, outbuildings and a long wall were soon constructed. Some time thereafter, the wars came. Straya found itself in continual battle and disagreement with the lower land's races and tribes. It was only a matter of time until the remote and isolated city was sacked, and the dwarven light extinguished. So what became of the empty halls? The long chains of grid-like rooms? The fort's tower and even the mountain caves? Nothing, for a time. Then, Porus believes that an Orc King brought purpose to the place. King Holethumb Veinsmak, the feared trader of slaves and master of death. This monstrously sized and monstrously greedy beast had far more inclination, and entrepreneurial instinct than his brothers. Straya was converted into a prison. A place to store slaves and meat. A place to "question" wanderers who dare cross into Holethumb's much disputed territories. A place to breed fear and power! Then the blood mist came. For many of the land's people, a curse. For the residents of Straya through, it was a blessing. To be continued.

[97mg]

The Blood Mist The demonic Blood Mist arrived without warning, and covered the lands for three centuries, draining the life out of anyone who dared to wander too far from their homes. During these ten human generations, travelers were devoured by the Blood Mist, a red and ravenous haze that rose from the ground at night. Very few dared venture outside after nightfall and fewer still knew for certain what lied beyond the horizon... It is Porus Pollapis's theory that King Holethumb was not within Fort Straya's walls, the first night the mists did fall. The Orcs, devoid of their great leader, began to bicker and fight for the position of power. The internal disputes soon escalated with the fort beginning to lack for supplies. Food became scarce. The only source of water a gentle mountain stream. The prisoners and slaves began to protest, plot and find their desire for freedom refueled. Straya was a powderkeg primed to explode. And explode it did, into violence. The many races represented by the impoverished and captured souls, came together as one. Wolfkin fought beside human, elf, dwarf, goblin, and even a lesser Orc or two. Their losses were heavy but their numbers were far greater than their captors. It was only a matter of time until prisoners and slaves alike cleansed each and every room, turret and cavern. The dried blood of victims a plenty, can still be found on patches of stone if you look hard enough. In many senses, the "new" Straya was set to succeed, and indeed it did flourish for a while. Their rations so small, some of the prisoners held within the mountain's caves had made a discovery. Perhaps one of them was a druid of some esteem? Or perhaps someone was just willing to take a potentially deadly risk. For in the darkest corners of the caves that lay behind the fort, was fungus. A black and spongy substance with an appearance similar to an elf's burned ear. It came to be known as Coorowcoji. Its texture was akin to tattered boots, but the flavour and nourishment it provided was exquisite! Furthermore, this strange gift of the earth was plentiful and easily cultivated. Armed with food and their mountain stream, the people of Straya began to rebuild. The Blood Mist had saved them from their oppressors and brought great hope! But peace such as this, never really does last. They lacked one most important thing. Leadership. The will of the people to remain independent, and never again have to answer to tyrant, king, lord or otherwise, presented great challenges that still exist today. Anarchy. Democracy. Oligarchy. They tried them all. Somehow though, that fighting spirit, that hatred of oppression, that fear of things returning to the ways they used to be, held the new Strayan people back. In the end the fort came to be something of a "loose" democracy, and all able bodies were to contribute to the community in one way or another. Mending walls. Carting water. Caring for the young. All major decisions, judgements and choices were made by the majority. Once a month, in the main courtyard, the entire populous of several hundreds or so would gather to vote, by raising a hand. Usually after many an hour of bickering. Tall-poppy syndrome was rife. Crime, manipulation and greed, commonplace. Survival here was for the fittest... as long as you could remain anonymous. Recently, the Blood Mist disappeared without explanation, and most places people look over their shoulder anxiously. The bravest sharpen their blades and prepare to leave. They can’t bear the systemic failure, corruption and oppressive weight of their homes any longer. Perhaps they hope to find that which was lost and take back what was theirs, so many generations ago. Perhaps they are simply driven by an insatiable lust to see what lies beyond the horizon, to discover if the myths are true, to conquer that which remains or has been stolen, and to carve out their own place... any place, but this. In recent days, many have departed Straya in search of new lives. Dreams of a peaceful home. Somewhere with fertile fields and safe places for children to play. Somewhere with functioning but generous leadership. Others, are driven by greed, be it for knowledge of what the distant land's hold, or merely for whatever wealth might remain in the beyond. Others, have chosen to remain. A poorly governed home with ample food... if not variety of food, too hard to abandon. A place where schemers, underdogs, thieves and shady string-pullers can flourish. A mountain full of riches... if one can find safe passage for the stones, and a buyer who still draws breath. To be continued...

[97mg]

Local Knowledge   Few are those who can say they've seen all of Straya's streets, walls, caverns, nooks and crannies. And even if they did say it, they would be liars! The original dwarven construction might once have been ordered, symmetrical and planned, but these days the surrounds, and the very contents of the great fort, are like a glimpse of chaos itself. Still though, there are landmarks and features that all Strayans call their own: The Plains of Rot: Well, they weren't originally named this, but they sure came to be known it during the reign of the Orcs! Out into the open plains that stretch as far as the eye can see, were thrown the refuse, garbage, and bodies of those captives whose lives were snuffed out. Then, almost as though layered like the rings within a tree's bark, or the layers of the earth's crust, the remains of Orcs followed. Near Straya's front gate, one might still catch the glimpse of a dried lonely bone. Or the rusty circle of an iron shackle poking out from within dry grass. Further afield, the grim reminders are less plentiful, but here and there you can be sure that more of this region's sordid history is buried. Graveyard: The remnants of the original dwarven crypts still stand, mostly... except for those now falling into ruin, which is quite a good few of them. When Straya's new era began during the days of the Blood Mist, the graveyard once again became a place to quietly place the dead. Many a loved one, victim of foul play, diseased beggar or those simply poor of luck or lacking in immortality are put to rest here. Yes, Straya is devoid of law, but there are still customs and a sense of what is "right". All believe in the notion of a proper burial, even though the religious beliefs of the many residents are varied and strange. Voting Ring: Once every thirty days, the entire able-bodied population gathers here, between a ringlet of great tall trees. They bring their worries out into the open. They heckle each other. They sometimes even solve problems and disputes. When the day of voting is not upon them, this unusually large courtyard is a place to simply sit and rest, or admire the Great Fortress and the towering mountains beyond. Ruins of Sirrat: The original purpose for this now crumbled structure is unknown. When a vote was taken as to if it should be rebuilt, the overwhelming majority decided that it should remain as is. A permanent reminder of an oppressive past, of the devastation of war, and that nothing might last forever. It is a sad place, like a memorial to all things Strayan lost... but that doesn't mean that is has no further purpose. Among the ruins lovers might secretly mingle. A trade might be made. A disagreement might be settled by fist versus fist. A shady agreement might be had. This is a common place to expect privacy... as long as nobody else is doing "business" at the same time of day. Market Square: A place to swap goods, to purchase rare home-cultivated foods other than black fungus, to mingle with friends and get one's pockets emptied! The market square is a buzzing hive of activity during both night and day, but you'd have to be wild at heart to go there at night. As soon as the sun goes down, the sellers of homespun cloth or carvings of bone retreat, replaced with dances unfit for a children's gaze, and the ingestion of mushrooms... of a more mind-altering kind. Grand Fortress: You will find people's homes almost anywhere behind Straya's eastern walls. Many, are a sprawling mass of timber or stone shacks and home-made abodes, right out in the open surrounding the fort. Others, are within the Grand Fortress itself. Once a place to symbolise dwarven wealth and ingenuity, it is now room after room, nook after cranny, cell after cell of shops, homes, places of crafting, storage, gambling and more... Old Quarry: Although less used these days, the old quarry still stands strong. This open cut into the mountainside, and several mine sites too, allow access to the wondrous marbles and other rocky gifts that once gave birth to Straya's fort and walls. As for the mines, few dare to wander too deeply, as it is said the ghosts of the original stonemasons still haunt the dark, dry and cold rocky walls. Lower Caves: A few folks live or go about their deeds within this narrow cave system, but otherwise it is a quiet home for the occasional bat. If you've got something to hide though, perhaps this is the spot to tuck some goodies between a crack in the wall, or behind a tall crisply stalagmite. Upper Caves: Closely protected by its volunteer workers, the upper caves are more of a farm than anything else. It is here that Coorowcoji is propagated! Being Straya's primary source of free food, it is a location respected and appreciated by all. Perhaps even, the safest place to spend many of a day's hours. It is for this reason, that the venture has no shortage of willing fungi-pickers. Stream of Orris: The one watersource for Straya. A single gentle stream, where the gifts of storms to the west do drop their drizzling rains, and over the weeks that follow, flow ever downwards until arriving at a small, yet unfathomably deep little lake. Much like the Upper Caves, all Strayan's respect the importance of this place. Those who might pollute it have short lives indeed. Drinking is done to the northern end, and bathing only to the lake's furthest south shore. Don't wander in too far though, as the waters are cold, and the undercurrent... well... it can quite literally be to die for. Dots of Yellow: Want to punish those calf muscles, or enjoy a magnificent view? Then the many surrounding peaks can't wait to bless you with rewards paid for via sweat.

[smeowlin]

Prelude This one looked like a tip of a used torch floating in a puddle of muddy water. Aelys let out a distinct groan as she stared into the wooden bowl full of Coorowcoji soup. Hangover cure, huh? Why did it have to look so unappealing? It's not if she was some stranger to the black and spongy fungus, but she had grown tired of its distinct taste and leathery texture. She could rarely afford to try anything else, and she dared not attempt to forage around these parts herself. The dull throbbing in the back of her skull left her no other choice. She let out a drawn-out sigh as she murmured into the bowl. "You win again." The half-elf brought the soup to her lips and closed her eyes, chugging down the thick water before the lump of fungus slipped past her roseate lips. Aelys chewed for what felt like far too long for her liking as she let her gaze wander around the tavern common room. What time of day was it anyway? Did she sleep past noon again? After finally defeating the rubbery fungus with her teeth, or at least wearing it down enough for her liking, the young woman swallowed hard. She wasn't sure how much the soup actually helped, but it couldn't make things worse. She spent a little time making herself appear a little more presentable as she considered her copper earning options for the day. The half-breed tried to run her fingers through her hair, with countless knots and tangles snagged in her hands and entwined amongst her knuckles. She could always gamble her last silver piece, but Aelys wasn't feeling particularly lucky today. The shape of the Coorowcoji was all wrong, after all. She struggled to remember which of her contacts mentioned potentially having a job for her. She was good at what she did, but she rarely gets on peoples' good side. The thief pushed out her chair, rose to her feet, and smoothed out her ale-stained tunic. She decided she would just play today by ear. If she found some work, great. If not, she could always come back here later and wait for that easy on the eyes Minstrel to keep the drukards distracted enough for her sticky fingers to find a loose copper or three. Aelys had tried to simply work with him as entertainment before, but it's difficult to juggle once you've got a mug of ale in one hand. Despite her hangover, the half-elf's trained footfalls were practically silent with the murmurs of the other patrons masking any imperfections in her technique. She wasn't really trying to be quiet, but it was second nature to her. Aelys pushed past the rickety tavern door and stepped out into the street, ready to get a start on the day. Or what was left of it, anyway.

 

Aelys (Willpower: 0)
Strength Skills Might 0 Endurance 0 Melee 1 Crafting 0	Strength	3/3	Agility Skills Stealth 2 Sleight of Hand 2 Move 2 Marksmanship 0	Agility	5/5	Weapons and Armor Dagger +1 Bonus, 1 Damage Throwing Knife +1 Bonus, 1 Damage
Wits Skills Scouting 0 Lore 0 Survival 0 Insight 0	Wits	3/3	Empathy Skills Manipulation 1 Performance 0 Healing 0 Animal Handing 0	Empathy	4/4	Resources Food d6 Water d6 Arrows   Torches d6

[Palliven]

A little prelude before we officially start Despite the heat of the day rising from below, cool air still eddied and swirled this high up. Just an occasional breeze though, not a gale and not carrying the cold mountain air of back home. Still, it was enough to cut through the oppressive air which was heavy with the hint of storms that were soon to come from the west. Looking down over Straya from where he sat on a rock ledge, Ravgor felt nothing but frustration. He had no love for his clan but he was still a dwarf and seeing the ruins of what had once been a prosperous and thriving dwarven community upset him. From the roof of the Grand Fortress to the larger stone crypts in the Graveyard to expertly crafted stone block entrance of the Quarry there were signs of dwarven greatness scattered around this dung heap of a town. Taking a breath and pushing down his anger he cleared his thoughts as he had learned to do over the years. A necessary skill when one called upon the unpredictable powers of magic. He came to this place to be reminded of who he was. To keep the fire of his ambition lit. It was not a place he found by accident and not without meaning. After his first week here, a week spent bedding in squalid alleys and hiding in dark corners to be sure he had not been followed as he fled, he made his way up the numerous paths in the mountains behind Straya. His first step onto the granite path brought him comfort and by the time he took enough turns to lose sight of the town below he had forgotten all about it. He could sense the mountain all around him - the sound of stone, the smell of earth, the feel of gravel beneath his feet. These were what mattered to him - the things that tugged at his core. How long he wandered, running his calloused hand along edges of granite, he wasn’t sure. At some point thought he stopped and found himself off the path. Standing in a crevice with sides so wide and steep that they blanketed him in shadow. This is where he felt the soul of the mountain strongest. A place of ancient earth and rugged stone. A place where civilization was not wanted nor welcomed. Quick to strip off clothes and unbraid his beard he then sat naked on the ground and began to sing. A deep, throaty chant that lifted his baritone voice upwards with words of respect and forgiveness for disturbing the mountain’s age-old slumber. He sang to introduce himself and seek permission to request its wisdom. Then he waited, for what did time matter to a mountain? The sun was half past its zenith when his song had begun and it was dark by the time the mountain ceased speaking. Humbled at the weight of the mountain’s voice and weakened from holding onto his magic for so long, Ravgor gathered his discarded clothes and headed further up the mountain to the place he had learned of. It was to this spot that he went to. It was here that the mountain told him of the young dwarf that had died, her blood pouring onto its stones and seeping into its dirt. It was here that the chase had ended, the blades of the orcs that pursued her with howling grunts ending her life as she watched her home burn. So it was here Ravgor would come to find peace from the town built on dwarven blood and to honor her spirit in the shelter of the great mountain. Here he would come to view the grandeur of the mountain. A lesson for him to remember that suffering was fleeting while stone is forever. He would build his destiny in stone. Strong, permanent, and unyielding to any who sought to stop him. Those lives he must ruin to achieve this were but fleeting anyway so their loss would not be mourned by him. Wiping a dripping line of sweat from his weathered face before it could reach his beard, the cool air not strong enough to wipe away the full grip of the heat around him, he looked down at Straya again. This was where he would place the first stone of his destiny. The materials he had at hand were poor and scarce, but he may have found two strong tools. They stood out among the rabble – which admittedly was not saying much in a place like Straya – but they could be of use to him. Starting down the mountain path back to town he had one thought in mind. Will they take to being tempered and bend to my needs or will they break when pushed?

[Aegis]

“IC” The diffuse sunlight rolled in through the house’s open window. The dozen or so people in the audience sit quietly and wait as Greyland continues to tune his lute. They watch with baited breath as seemingly every move, to them, will lead to him starting to play. And this is how he likes it. He knows it’s “unprofessional” to show up untuned and take his time like this, but this is part of what the crowd wants. They want to fight for his attention and for him to extend these moments. He plucks a few strings, tunes, then throws his jacket into an empty corner. Plucks some more. The crowd begins to grow impatient. Not with him, but with the waiting. They know seeing him is worth the price of admission to this party, this concert. Just as they begin to fill their time and idle chatter, he makes a purposeful strum on the lute, captivating all of their attention, then moves to the center of the makeshift stage. He hits them with a wicked, Devil may care smile, doesn’t apologize for keeping them waiting and watching him for half an hour. Instead, he simply says "This one is for Sacha…" and begins to play a song so sweet and terrible it tears their hearts out in the best way possible.

[97mg]

A Man Who Comes And Goes It was a day later, whilst Aelys was likely going about some manner of unscrupulous business in a seedy part of Straya, that she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning, the young half-elven woman was greeted by a familiar face. That of an elderly man. Porus Pollapis! Under a long moustache of salt and pepper he smiled smugly at her, before pushing his long hair back. Yes, he might have had a pronounced receding forehead, but that was all made up for by something of a “mullet”. A lengthy tangled mess of sweaty and chaotic locks. As per usual, he wore little more than a long and itchy-looking hessian gown. “Pardon the interruption, eh? You can be hard to find Miss, but at last I have you. Would you be interested in a little visit beyond the town walls? I’ll make it… ahem… profitable, yes?” From nowhere, a tatty looking coin purse had appeared in the fellow’s left hand. He juggled it into the air a short distance, and then caught it again. Indeed, it tinkled, and moved as though it carried a reasonable amount of weight. “Meet me at our usual place, in the Ruins of Sirrat, eh? Oh, and bring some of those friends of yours. I’d be anticipating some uphill hiking, potential violence, and a need for someone… you know… convincing. That handsome minstrel of yours might do the trick.” He winked mischievously then. “Be there at twilight, it will be fun, I promise you.” Porus chuckled, and then in a flash had turned and disappeared into the streetside crowd. For such an elderly codger, it always came as a surprise… his dexterity and ability to sort of come and go like an apparition. Under that common garb, one had to wonder if his physique was one befitting a man of much younger years. Someone athletic and well toned. Not bad, for a fellow who supposedly spent many hours of a day scratching on parchments and licking his thumb to turn the pages of some grotty old book. An eccentric. A crazed old man. A man of strange and often questionable tastes and fancies. Porus was all these things, but he was also much more. Trustworthy would be a bit of a stretch, because who knew how many aspects of Straya he had fingers and spies poking about in. He was however, “good for it”. Porus always kept his word. He always paid up, as agreed too. That on it's own made him a good business partner as far as people around this neck of the mountains were concerned. And so it was that soon enough, this fateful evening fell upon the lands of Straya. The burning heat of the sun began to at last retreat, the air shifting from motionless and dry, to thick and sticky. Yes, a storm was brewing to the west. Nothing too unusual about that. Such things were a good omen, for in several days time the Stream of Orris would be replenished with waters clean and fresh.

OOC Hi team! Thank you so much for those great intro posts! I've left Porus's regular "meeting spot" in the Ruins undetermined, in case you wanted to flavor it any particular way, if you want. Feel free to arrive at the Ruins, meet up, and then I'll bring in the entertainment :-) I've already established a vague kind of relationship between Porus and one of you. Hopefully that's enough for now, but if you'd like to know more about him feel free to make a lore check at any time that feels applicable. Cheers! Let's have fun!

[smeowlin]

The Job Eyes on the prize, Aelys. Don't let it out of your sight. You won't get another chance. She felt the judging eyes of various bystanders as she steadily crept up on the crow in the middle of the street, hopping along with half a pastry in its beak. The half-elf was starving, and she wasn't above eating leftovers no matter whose mouth it had been in. How it managed to get a hold of one wasn't her concern, but she had to reach the corvid before it wised up and took flight. She followed the crow down a narrow alley, and just as Aelys believed she was in leaping distance of the bird, she felt the tap on her shoulder, giving her a start as her heart lept up in her chest. A high-pitched yelp escaped her lips as she failed to contain her surprise. It was just the warning the crow needed as it wasted no time in fleeing the scene with pastry in tow. She let out an exaggerated groan as she turned to come face to face with one of her old business partners. He gave her the creeps, and she did little to hide her disdain in her expression. It didn't take long for Porus to remind her why she put up with him, however. Her lips curled into a grin as her vibrant eyes followed the coin purse being tossed into the air and back into his palm. Who needed a half-eaten, dirty pastry when that kind of coin is on the table? "I'll be there, old man." She watched as Porus managed to get lost in the crowd outside of the alleyway quickly enough to where she could only follow him for a couple of seconds. Aelys knew not to underestimate someone who could come up with as much coin as he had to offer. Especially when they don't bring any sort of guards with them. Friends of mine, huh? He was right to suggest Greyland if there was going to be talking involved. It's not as if she didn't know how to talk her way out of trouble, it's just that sometimes getting into more trouble was the more tempting option. As for someone else... the thief didn't trust many people, but she had someone in mind. The dwarf, what was his name again? Ravgor? He was possibly the smartest person she'd met. She considered herself to have a quick wit, but the dwarf was on another level. He could be useful. She didn't really consider either of them to be her friend, but they were the people she knew that were least likely to stab her in the back. Just then, a monstrous growl echoed in the alleyway! It was an unpleasant reminder by her stomach of her failure to procure an easy breakfast. Aelys sighed heavily as she resigned herself to having to feast on the fibrous fungus once again. Whether in passing or by calling on favors to get the word out, she would let the others know to meet her at the Ruins of Sirrat at twilight by the collapsed staircase. She mentioned it would be worth their while. Later that day, Aelys kept her cloak tight about herself as sat at the top of the ruined spiral staircase, waiting patiently for the others while also keeping a wary eye out for any unexpected arrivals. She liked this spot because it gave her a good vantage point to see anyone who might be coming while also providing an easy way out if she needed to thanks to the staircase ending only ten steps up and conveniently adjacent to an unstable platform she could run across if needed. The steps were also deceptively treacherous with moss and vines overtaking the stone in strange places.

 

Aelys (Willpower: 0) Sheet
Strength Skills Might 0 Endurance 0 Melee 1 Crafting 0	Strength	3/3	Agility Skills Stealth 2 Sleight of Hand 2 Move 2 Marksmanship 0	Agility	5/5	Weapons and Armor Dagger +1 Bonus, 1 Damage Throwing Knife +1 Bonus, 1 Damage
Wits Skills Scouting 0 Lore 0 Survival 0 Insight 0	Wits	3/3	Empathy Skills Manipulation 1 Performance 0 Healing 0 Animal Handing 0	Empathy	4/4	Resources Food d6 Water d6 Arrows   Torches d6

[Palliven]

The shock of cold water felt good. On hot days like today, buckets were brought in from the Stream of Orris. The inner recesses of the Upper Caves tended to be cool, they were after all ideal for the growing of Coorowcoji, but hauling crates of the gnarled brown fungi up and down the sloping mountainside and into town was hot work.

Pulling his head out of the water bucket and scrubbing his face dry Ravgor stepped aside to let someone else take their turn. His next stop was to wait in line before the old, matronly woman by a wicker basket with frayed strands sticking out here and there. He had learned that everyone who harvested was given two handfuls of the earthy, nutty mushroom for themselves. This was enough to get him to sign up for harvesting. Not that he loved the fungus so much but he feared that with news of the Blood Mist lifting there would soon be a run on food. He’d already heard more than a few louts bragging that they would be heading out to the wastelands. It wouldn’t be long before someone figured out stocking up on free food before leaving was the smart thing to do. He thought of this idea a week ago so that meant some of the smarter ones might realize it in a day or two. The handfuls he would get today would be added to his stash. He had found a spot in the Quarry where he had hidden his tent, fur cloak and other gear that he didn’t want to be carrying around in this heat. A deep hole under a slab of rock that blended in with all the other rubble. He estimated that he would have time to make it to the Quarry and add today’s earnings before having to head back into town.

Aelys had sent word to him about an opportunity she would share more about when they met near sundown. The fact that she had developed bits of a network in Straya and been able to find him was a good sign. Showed she had some ability and was worth investing his time in. He also needed the money if he was going to put his own plan to leave town himself into action. And it’s like the saying went - ten coppers make a silver but two coppers don’t make squat.

 

Stat Block Ravgor Kinslayer | Race: Dwarf | Profession: Sorcerer | Age: Adult (52) Attributes - Strength: 4 | Agility: 2 | Wits: 5 | Empathy: 3 |Reputation: 1 |Willpower: 0 Conditions - Sleepless: | Thirsty: | Hungry: | Cold: | Critical Injuries: Appearance - Face: Stern. Bald with tattooed lines. Long, braided beard of auburn. | Body: Solid, wide shouldered. Scarred| Clothing: Fur lined cloak. Quilted linen shirt. Pride: Whoever threatens my life or plans will die a painful death. Dark Secret: I shall knee to no king, jarl or dane ever again. I will not rest until I lord over my own domain. Skills: Might(Strength) 1, Melee (Strength) 1, Crafting (Strength) 3, Move(Agility) 1, Insight (Wits) 2, Manipulate (Empathy) 2 Talents: Can push a dice roll multiple times by spending Willpower Points. Every point spent allows you to push the roll one more time.True Grit 1, Stone singing originated among the dwarves, and helps them shape the bedrock of the world according to the mission from their god Huge. The discipline has spread from the dwarves to the elves and humans, who have also found good use for this form of magicPath of Stone 1, DRAW OR CARVE: Symbolism requires no in gredients apart from the symbols themselves. If they are carved or drawn in any way, they count as ingredients from a rule standpoint, meaning that the Power Level is increased by one. Drawing a symbol takes a few minutes and cannot be done in the heat of battle. Carving a symbol into stone takes one Quarter Day or more. The Sorcerer decides when the symbol is activated. Even a drawn or carved symbol only works oncePath of Signs 1, You know the art of hammering coarse iron into lethal blades and protective armor. ✥ RANK 1: You can use the CRAFTING skill to make any close combat weapon, shield, or metal armor from the weapons tables in Chapter 5, with normal stats. You can also turn IRON ORE into IRON at a FORGE (see page 167). ✥ RANK 2: You can make weapons, shields and metal armor with a Weapon Bonus or Armor Rating that is one point higher than normal. This takes twice as long, and your roll is modified by –2. ✥ RANK 3: You can make weapons, shields and metal armor with a Weapon Bonus or Armor Rating that is two points higher than normal. This takes four times as long and your roll is modified by –4.Smith 1 Spells: Rank 1: RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Arm’s Length ✥ DURATION: Quarter Day ✥ INGREDIENT: Piece of chalk Using this spell, you protect a person or a lo cation (no bigger than a human) from magic. The Power Level of any spells cast against that person or place during the Quarter Day is decreased by the Power Level of the MAG ICAL SEAL. Magic Seal RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate ✥ INGREDIENT: Divining rod As a sorcerer or druid, you automatically sense whenever someone uses magic within SHORT range or if an item you hold is charged with magical power. If you want to know more about what kind of magic is involved, you must cast the SENSE MAGIC spell. Using this spell is also required to detect OBSCURED mag ic (see below) – your Power Level must then be equal to or higher than the Power Level of the OBSCURE MAGIC spell Sense Magic RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The symbol lures the victim, who must make an INSIGHT roll with a negative modification equal to the Power Level. If the roll fails, the victim must RUN to within ARM’S LENGTH of the symbol, spending all their normal actions to do so (bonus actions from talents can still be used normally). When the victim reaches the symbol, or if the symbol is moved, the effect is broken. No effect on monsters.Entice RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The symbol awakens a deep fear in the victim, who suffers damage to Wits equal to the Power Level. No effect on monsters.Horrify RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The hypnotizing power of the symbol mesmerizes your opponent. At Power Level 1, the victim loses their fast action in the round, or in the next round if they have already used it. At Power Lev el 2, they lose their slow action. At Power Level 3, they lose both actions, and at Power Level 4, they also lose any bonus actions from talents. The spell has no effect on monsters.Paralyze RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Near ✥ DURATION: One round ✥ INGREDIENT: A fistful of sand The spell blows a thick cloud of rock dust from the ground to cover the Zone you are in. The dust blocks sight through the Zone and lets you flee combat (see page 89) without rolling for MOVE. This spell can only be used in the MOUNTAIN terrain type or inside a CAVE.Dust From The Deep RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate ✥ INGREDIENT: Horn Your mighty voice is so strong that people around you are stunned. Your song causes 1 point of damage to Agility per Power Level. You can distribute the damage across as many opponents as you want. The targets may at tempt to resist the effect by rolling for INSIGHT – each x rolled negates 1 point of damage. No effect against monsters.Stun RANK 1, RITUAL ✥ RANGE: Varies ✥ DURATION: Quarter Day ✥ INGREDIENT: Flute You can speak to the mountain and listen to its words. The mountain can answer simple ques tions about what has happened at the location before (events over the last day require Power Level 1, events one year back in time require Power Level 2 and events even further back in time require Power Level 3) or what is happen ing in the area right now (SHORT range requires Power Level 1, LONG range Power Level 2, any thing within the map hex Power Level 3). Un fortunately, the mountain speaks very slowly and therefore this spell works like a ritual. This spell can only be used in the MOUNTAIN terrain type or inside a CAVE.Voice Of The Mountain Armor Worn: Studded Leather Cap (1) Weapons: Knife Gear: Backpack. Waterskin. Large Tent (Heavy) +2 Make Camp. Blanket (Light) +1 Cold. Flint & Steel (Tiny) Consumables: Food: D6| Water: D8| Arrows: | Torches: Coins: Gold: 0| Silver: 1| Copper: 0 Carrying Capacity: Total: 8| Current: 3 Relationships: half-elf rogue with guilt issues Aelys Her desperation to forget her guilt makes her easy to manipulate. Build her up, fill her with doubt and she will stay loyal. Human minstrel, mix of hope and vengeance fills heart Greyland Mane It will interesting to see which he will lose first, his hope or his life.

[Aegis]

“OOC” Took a few liberties with the meet with Aelys and Greyland. Hope that’s ok

“IC” All of Greyland’s senses were open as he moved to the ruins. It wasn’t too late in the day, and there was still light, in fact more than he was still used to, due to the fog leaving. But still, it was suspicious. One of the only reasons he wasn’t too worried about being waylaid was simply that he didn’t have much. Few pieces of silver, fewer enemies, and even fewer friends now that Broderick… He traveled light now. Earlier in the day at a tavern on the edge of town, Aelys finds Greyland, sitting and having a drink. A “patron”, as Grey called them, had just dropped a fresh drink off at this table. As Grey turned back to the table after saying by to them, Aelys was already seated at the table, drink to her lips. After downing it quickly, she gets up to leave and flips him a coin deftly with her thumb, as payment. Grey grabs it out of the air, realizing as he does so that it’s not a coin, but a sheet of folded paper. Like a ghost, she’s gone leaving only a sheet of paper with a place and time to meet and an empty mug He approaches the ruins as quietly as possible, doing a little bit of scouting when he sees Ravgor. Greyland gives a sigh of relief, not because Ravgor is a friend, but because he doesn’t think Aelys and Ravgor would team up to harm him. One or the other, maybe, but not both together. He’s not sure if Ravgor was here first or if he was, and still hasn’t spotted Aelys. "What do you say Ravgor? Aelys reached out to you too?"

[Palliven]

The Ruins of Sirrat intrigued Ravgor . On first arriving in Straya he had taken note of the crumbling sprawl, not for the obvious reason of it being an eyesore nestled in the ugly face that is the town, but due to the differences of its stone. Most were clearly of dwarwish craft, evident by how smooth the facings and how crisp the edges still were after all this time. Those blocks of orcish work - never would he deign their butchery of stone craftsmanship - had crumbling edges and cracks across surfaces from being unable to withstand the elements. Other stones, crafted by human or elf he assumed (not surprising he was unsure since until a few months ago he had never met a human, elf or halfling let alone watched any of their stonemasons at work) withered before the elements, their corners rounding and surfaces pocking with cracks and divets. Vines and moss grew on most but the carpet of vegetation was sparse on the dwarven stones, finding it hard to gain purchase where dwarf chisel had cut.

He had come here a few times to explore the collapsed walls, free standing pillars of rubble and cavernous gaps in what little remained of floors and ceilings. What he discovered was an unexpected mystery. There was no doubt that it was of dwarvish design and construction but for what purpose, he could not say. He had come up with - then readily discarded - several possibilites of what function it had been meant to serve. A bathhouse, but there were no pipes. A grainery, but no sign of a millstone. A gaol, but there was no hint that cell bars once set in the floorstones. He enjoyed the puzzle. No matter he had no answer yet for the sorcerer firmly believed all mysteries could be solved in time. He was, in fact, counting that they could.

Ah, so she picked Greyland the Minstrel.

Ravgor had expected the thief to seek help from more than just him. He had wondered if she would tap the shoulder of that one-eyed brawler Grak. He guessed having a quick to anger thug who would swing before he thought may be too much for her to manage. Her choice of the minstrel was an interesting one. They had met before, exchanged a few words even. Not enough for Ravgor to know him but enough for him to get a sense of Greyland.. Cautious, watchful. A grim side he covered with an act. A social troubador who was everyone's friend.

Wager he was that way once before something dimmed his light .

Putting on a smile he stepped down from the slanting platform he had been walking on, remains of a long ago roof that had fallen was his guess.

"I say it's a shame this magnificent place lies in ruins," he said with an arm raised and gesturing about him as if showing off something he had a hand in building.

"She sent word. And you? What is it that she said she needed you for?" He had little information himself, but was unwilling reveal the disadvantage this put him at.

[smeowlin]

Ruins of Sirrat "I needed a smooth talker." She answered before the Minstrel could as she approached the two. Aelys had noticed them coming, and being impatient as always decided she would come up to the two rather than wait exactly at the designated spot. She greeted the both of them with an amiable smile. The half-elf was relieved that they both decided to join her despite how little information about the job and the pay she gave them. Either they're just as desparate as I am or they trust me for some reason. Oh well, no use in questioning a good thing. She laced her fingers together behind her neck, both as a way to relax a bit and to show the others she meant them no harm. "Glad you both could make it. Our employer should be here soon enough to fill us in on the precise details of the job." She spoke casually as she padded closer towards the two. Even as she spoke of Porus, she kept a wary eye out for the old man. She didn't want to be caught off guard by him again, and the setting of the sun would provide the perfect conditions for him to do so. It wasn't as if he posed any danger to her, at least not right now. She just hated how creepy he was, and how he seemed to lean into it.

 

Aelys (Willpower: 0) Sheet
Strength Skills Might 0 Endurance 0 Melee 1 Crafting 0	Strength	3/3	Agility Skills Stealth 2 Sleight of Hand 2 Move 2 Marksmanship 0	Agility	5/5	Weapons and Armor Dagger +1 Bonus, 1 Damage Throwing Knife +1 Bonus, 1 Damage
Wits Skills Scouting 0 Lore 0 Survival 0 Insight 0	Wits	3/3	Empathy Skills Manipulation 1 Performance 0 Healing 0 Animal Handing 0	Empathy	4/4	Resources Food d6 Water d6 Arrows   Torches d6

[97mg]

An Old One and a Short One It wasn't very long at all until the trio heard the sounds of an old man, and someone with a gentler, much higher pitched voice nearby. The sounds seemed to bounce and muffle themselves against the ruins, though with each passing moment they became clearer and more angled to the north. Then, from around the rear of Aelys's favorite staircase, came none other than ol' Porus with his hand waving, and a smaller fellow by his side. Porus then gestured with a finger for the project's potential undertakers, to come forward. “Greetings everyone! Oh, Greyland and Ravgor isn't it? Well done.” His eyes met Aelys with the sounds of his congratulation. It seemed that the fellow approved of the half-elven woman's choice of "assistants". “This charming man is Iddlepot, the source of funds and requirement for an... expedition.” At this point, Iddlepot smiled and bowed his head to the group. He was one of Straya's few Halflings. A short little man with a mop-shaped ball of tangley brown hair, and a set of strong dark eyes set above even darker, eyebags. Sleep deprivation was pretty commonplace in Straya, depending on where you holed-up. The local mushrooms could also give you a rough night every once in a while, if quite accidentally someone had picked a few fungal "imposters". If anything, Iddlepot looked... well... just sad and worn out. He made an effort though. A nervous smile to the assembled. "I'm really grateful for you all coming, and maybe being interested in helping me out..." Porus was nodding, as though in agreement with the words chosen. "Guess I better come out with it then. When the Blood Mist finally went away, my brother Piddlelot watched as lots of people head away from here. They all went through the front gates of course. So, being the ambitious and easily excitable type that he his, he head out the opposite direction. The Path of Bone. He said he'd be walking for at least a whole day. Didn't really say why or what he expected to find. Anyway, he never returned. Now I can't help but wonder if he got lost, fell into something unfortunate, or even just stumbled on a heap of abandoned riches, and won't be returning to share them!" “And there's more,” Porus added. “I had a very thorough search made of small cavern Piddlelot calls home, near our stream. Like any Halfling...” He apologetically glanced towards Iddlepot. “... there are things hidden away. Behind a lose stone was a piece of leather. This... piece.” From a pocket in his robes, Porus produced what must have been a few inches square of dry and moldy-smelling animal skin. Scratched onto it was... Nasty Leather I can tolerate this place no longer. Forgive me. In my dreams are screams from the West. I must go, and silence them. Did the Orcs find yet more dwarven ruins out there? Or did they cut their own special place into the very mountain's crust? “I'll get to the business end now, rather than dithering about. If you are interested in heading west, and looking for the evidence of Piddlelot's demise, fortune, or otherwise, then Iddlepot will fund the endeavor. Ten silvers in total up front, to purchase what supplies you might think appropriate. Then, thirty silvers, ten each, if you return with some form of hard evidence, if not Piddlelot himself.”

OOC Feel free to react! If you're interested in trying a roll, some options might be: Manipulate Porus or Iddlepot into a better reward? Scour your memories for any Lore about the Path of Bone. Or something else of your own creation :-) These are just ideas! There is no compulsion to roll anything unless you want to. If you need assistance with any of the "rolling", and "pushing" stuff as we go along, just let me know!

[Palliven]

Aelys looked thinner than last he saw her if that were possible. She had the look of hunger about her which could be a problem if her mind was more on food than the job at hand. Maybe they could squeeze a decent meal from their employer before heading out. Something besides mushroom stew would sit well with him too.

Ravgor wasn’t surprised to see Porus. Old by these human’s standards, the man seemed to be everywhere in Straya. Reminded him of Old Beralize. That widow had hand in everyone’s pot and her ear to everyone’s door back home. Not Home. Not anymore. .

The offer of silver was the best news the sorcerer had heard in a while. One of the biggest reasons he had delayed heading out to find his destiny was his lack of materials. His sorcery came from within but was hard to control. He practiced and had grown better at mastering the wild energies he could summon forth but over the years he had found that certain things could strengthen his power, enhance his chances of mastering the fickle thing that was magic. For the magic he had been born to sing, he suspected these items were talismans of his own design as they were all instruments, items that could accompany his voice and strengthen his song. For the magic that he had learned, the magic that had called to him and at first he had thought were just voices in his head, voices that proved what they said about his was true, the runes came to him. Easier to craft by scratching in a bit of wood, carving into a stone or, as he did to affect his escape from his cell, drawn with blood on wall they still needed time. The silver earned today would help him craft or buy what he needed to have enough of these talismans and runes to survive for a while out there.

This fellow Iddlepot, the second halfling he had ever met and doing nothing to dispel his belief that they were a sorry lot of folk, was willing to spend coin to find his brother. A noble effort but many a shady business had been covered in a blanket of nobility before. As the halfling talked, Ravgor listened beyond his words to see if he could sense the motive behind them.

OOC Actions: Made Insight check to see if can tell if he is spinning a tale, lying or otherwise identify his real motives for searching for this other halfling. Rolled 3 sixes out of six die.

 

Stat Block Ravgor Kinslayer | Race: Dwarf | Profession: Sorcerer | Age: Adult (52) Attributes - Strength: 4 | Agility: 2 | Wits: 5 | Empathy: 3 |Reputation: 1 |Willpower: 0 Conditions - Sleepless: | Thirsty: | Hungry: | Cold: | Critical Injuries: Appearance - Face: Stern. Bald with tattooed lines. Long, braided beard of auburn. | Body: Solid, wide shouldered. Scarred| Clothing: Fur lined cloak. Quilted linen shirt. Pride: Whoever threatens my life or plans will die a painful death. Dark Secret: I shall knee to no king, jarl or dane ever again. I will not rest until I lord over my own domain. Skills: Might(Strength) 1, Melee (Strength) 1, Crafting (Strength) 3, Move(Agility) 1, Insight (Wits) 2, Manipulate (Empathy) 2 Talents: Can push a dice roll multiple times by spending Willpower Points. Every point spent allows you to push the roll one more time.True Grit 1, Stone singing originated among the dwarves, and helps them shape the bedrock of the world according to the mission from their god Huge. The discipline has spread from the dwarves to the elves and humans, who have also found good use for this form of magicPath of Stone 1, DRAW OR CARVE: Symbolism requires no in gredients apart from the symbols themselves. If they are carved or drawn in any way, they count as ingredients from a rule standpoint, meaning that the Power Level is increased by one. Drawing a symbol takes a few minutes and cannot be done in the heat of battle. Carving a symbol into stone takes one Quarter Day or more. The Sorcerer decides when the symbol is activated. Even a drawn or carved symbol only works oncePath of Signs 1, You know the art of hammering coarse iron into lethal blades and protective armor. ✥ RANK 1: You can use the CRAFTING skill to make any close combat weapon, shield, or metal armor from the weapons tables in Chapter 5, with normal stats. You can also turn IRON ORE into IRON at a FORGE (see page 167). ✥ RANK 2: You can make weapons, shields and metal armor with a Weapon Bonus or Armor Rating that is one point higher than normal. This takes twice as long, and your roll is modified by –2. ✥ RANK 3: You can make weapons, shields and metal armor with a Weapon Bonus or Armor Rating that is two points higher than normal. This takes four times as long and your roll is modified by –4.Smith 1 Spells: Rank 1: RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Arm’s Length ✥ DURATION: Quarter Day ✥ INGREDIENT: Piece of chalk Using this spell, you protect a person or a lo cation (no bigger than a human) from magic. The Power Level of any spells cast against that person or place during the Quarter Day is decreased by the Power Level of the MAG ICAL SEAL. Magic Seal RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate ✥ INGREDIENT: Divining rod As a sorcerer or druid, you automatically sense whenever someone uses magic within SHORT range or if an item you hold is charged with magical power. If you want to know more about what kind of magic is involved, you must cast the SENSE MAGIC spell. Using this spell is also required to detect OBSCURED mag ic (see below) – your Power Level must then be equal to or higher than the Power Level of the OBSCURE MAGIC spell Sense Magic RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The symbol lures the victim, who must make an INSIGHT roll with a negative modification equal to the Power Level. If the roll fails, the victim must RUN to within ARM’S LENGTH of the symbol, spending all their normal actions to do so (bonus actions from talents can still be used normally). When the victim reaches the symbol, or if the symbol is moved, the effect is broken. No effect on monsters.Entice RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The symbol awakens a deep fear in the victim, who suffers damage to Wits equal to the Power Level. No effect on monsters.Horrify RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate The hypnotizing power of the symbol mesmerizes your opponent. At Power Level 1, the victim loses their fast action in the round, or in the next round if they have already used it. At Power Lev el 2, they lose their slow action. At Power Level 3, they lose both actions, and at Power Level 4, they also lose any bonus actions from talents. The spell has no effect on monsters.Paralyze RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Near ✥ DURATION: One round ✥ INGREDIENT: A fistful of sand The spell blows a thick cloud of rock dust from the ground to cover the Zone you are in. The dust blocks sight through the Zone and lets you flee combat (see page 89) without rolling for MOVE. This spell can only be used in the MOUNTAIN terrain type or inside a CAVE.Dust From The Deep RANK 1 ✥ RANGE: Short ✥ DURATION: Immediate ✥ INGREDIENT: Horn Your mighty voice is so strong that people around you are stunned. Your song causes 1 point of damage to Agility per Power Level. You can distribute the damage across as many opponents as you want. The targets may at tempt to resist the effect by rolling for INSIGHT – each x rolled negates 1 point of damage. No effect against monsters.Stun RANK 1, RITUAL ✥ RANGE: Varies ✥ DURATION: Quarter Day ✥ INGREDIENT: Flute You can speak to the mountain and listen to its words. The mountain can answer simple ques tions about what has happened at the location before (events over the last day require Power Level 1, events one year back in time require Power Level 2 and events even further back in time require Power Level 3) or what is happen ing in the area right now (SHORT range requires Power Level 1, LONG range Power Level 2, any thing within the map hex Power Level 3). Un fortunately, the mountain speaks very slowly and therefore this spell works like a ritual. This spell can only be used in the MOUNTAIN terrain type or inside a CAVE.Voice Of The Mountain Armor Worn: Studded Leather Cap (1) Weapons: Knife Gear: Backpack. Waterskin. Large Tent (Heavy) +2 Make Camp. Blanket (Light) +1 Cold. Flint & Steel (Tiny) Consumables: Food: D6| Water: D8| Arrows: | Torches: Coins: Gold: 0| Silver: 1| Copper: 0 Carrying Capacity: Total: 8| Current: 3 Relationships: half-elf rogue with guilt issues Aelys Her desperation to forget her guilt makes her easy to manipulate. Build her up, fill her with doubt and she will stay loyal. Human minstrel, mix of hope and vengeance fills heart Greyland Mane It will interesting to see which he will lose first, his hope or his life.

[smeowlin]

Ruins of Sirrat The thief stifled a grimace at the mention of the Path of Bone. She didn't expect their task to be all that simple, but going up the western peaks was going to be rough for her. At the very least, Aelys was immensely thankful that she managed to have a dwarf along for the journey. The trek was probably the least of her worries after seeing that creepy note left behind by the halfling's brother. This didn't sound like it was going to be any ordinary investigation, and she couldn't help but consider what sort of mysticism might drive one mad enough to write such a thing. She had hoped that the halfling simply decided to indulge on some sort of drug far more often than he should have otherwise. Aelys believed she could easily convince him to spend more out of desperation, but... He's not my brother. No reason to show compassion every time someone brings up something wrong with their brother. Everyone's got a sob story, and they'll use it to take advantage of me if I'm not careful. The half-elf let out a heavy sigh before holding out her hand, her fingers splayed out with her thumb tucked in. "Forty silver total when we get back, and I'll be spending my share on drinks for us all. It's a dangerous path for sure, and whether he's dead or alive, drinks would be appropriate. The ten silver a piece would normally be acceptable, but we are going to be using the ten you give us up front just to be certain we're well-prepared for the journey. It's not as if you're being generous by offering what we'll no doubt need up front." Those terms seemed a fair enough compromise to her, and it gives her the illusion of being somewhat charitable herself by spending her own coin on them. She would of course get the extra silver piece with this new payment plan. She deserved it as a sort of founder's fee, but there was no reason to bring that up now.

OOC Actions I'll roll Manipulation in the dice rolling channel!

 

Aelys (Willpower: 0) Sheet
Strength Skills Might 0 Endurance 0 Melee 1 Crafting 0	Strength	3/3	Agility Skills Stealth 2 Sleight of Hand 2 Move 2 Marksmanship 0	Agility	5/5	Weapons and Armor Dagger +1 Bonus, 1 Damage Throwing Knife +1 Bonus, 1 Damage
Wits Skills Scouting 0 Lore 0 Survival 0 Insight 0	Wits	3/3	Empathy Skills Manipulation 1 Performance 0 Healing 0 Animal Handing 0	Empathy	4/4	Resources Food d6 Water d6 Arrows   Torches d6