# The Bold Adventures of Poins--On the Town



## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

*HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF POINS*
The High Pyrees--a small 'nation' in some of the most mountainous terrain on the continent of Eldheim.  A combination of rocky hills and deep, but fertile valleys, the Pyrees have always been uncomfortably situated between the Empire of Syra and Holy Kingdom of Archea, and from an early time in its history forced to ally with the former to avoid being absorbed into the latter.  Given a special province status by the Emperors, the Pyrees pledge a nominal alleigiance and pay a few taxes to the Empire in return for some military protection, while maintaining a great deal of autonomy.  Of course, this arrangement has had many difficulties over the years, with disagreements on both sides as to how much freedom the Cantons get, and how much right the Empire has to protect its interest, but still most people agree the Empire is a better master than the Holy Kingdom.  Some are not so sure, especially as the majority of Pyreens are of Archean descent.

The Pyrees are made up of twelve Cantons, each of which is under the rule of an elected Reeve, and a council of Aldermen.  Once a year, the Reeves meet to discuss business and politics in the Pyrees--the Canton this meeting takes place in is decided by lot at the end of the preceding meeting.  The Reeves may also meet in case of emergencies and extraordinary occurrences.  The Canton of Oran lies in the southwesternmost part of the Pyrees, and has often been used by Archean and Syran armies as a pathway into the other's state.  The backwoods town of Poins has seen many such armies come and go through the province proper, and has rarely been touched by them.  Aside from the sinister Azerai, who built a fortress on Blacktooth Peak, none have ever considered the town worth occupying--and even the Azerai rarely bothered the town proper.  It is a small, unremarkable section of the Canton.  Like most towns in the Pyrees, it elects a Mayor and a Sheriff, with local businessmen (well, practically anyone who shows up to a meeting, when you get down to it) belonging to the Small Council.  Like all of the Pyreens, they are a hardy, sensible, independent folk, who dislike meddling into their affairs, and stirring up trouble.

But today, trouble is going to come to them--from quite a few directions.


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

*Weel*
Weel stood before the Temple to Assorted Gods.  A young acolyte of Thraunos, beginning his Long Walk, he was planning to say hello to his friends and family in the area before moving on.  But first he had one last instruction from Master Esroh.  _"Go see Phandros, and deliver this letter,"_ the old man had said, and Weel was planning to do just that.  He had wondered what it said, but it seemed unseemly to break his master's seal.  As for Phandros, Weel remembered him--the old man who tended Poins's only temple--a structure built originally for Thraunos but now dedicated to the worship of most dieties...

*Alan Hale*
Alan had been shirking the job his father had instructed him to do for an hour when he saw the riders.  It wasn't that Hale was a lazy young man--it was simply that he didn't see the point in doing father and Bran's work for them.  After all, it was father's farm, and Bran was going to get it when he died, a fact he never ceased to remind his younger siblings of.  It didn't seem fair to Alan that he had to stay around as a source of cheap labor for his family, when he was perfectly capable of making his own way in the world.  It sometime seemed to Alan that thrilling adventures were waiting for him, and that the farm was holding him back.  Sometimes he used to play his future exploits out in his head, figuring out just how to do them right.

He'd just rescued a Princess--he was debating whether it was a Princess of Syra, a Princess of Nemed, or a Princess of some even more exotic land--when he saw five men on horseback on the road below.  Four were clad in armor--the fifth in robes of brown and green.  The fifth held a hawk in his hand.  Releasing it, it flew into the air, heading towards Poins...


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

*Caradoc Nuttall*
It was the last day of the Syran Inspector's visit, and the Nuttall's were bending themselves over backward to impress the man.  The most sumptious breakfast they could afford was spread out before him, and the entire family was doing its utmost to try and seem interested in his conversation.

"--So really, you'll benefit from this," said Inspector Melse, his mild voice barely rising above the clank of silverware.  "Oh, true there's that slight fee on spirits you'll have to pay, but you owe us _less_ in taxes now, under the new codes."  The half-elf was calmly buttering his toast--the only part of the meal he was partaking of.  His eyes occasionally strayed to the pomengrate Cador had placed before him, but he never seemed able to get himself to commit.

"Very generous," muttered Cador, slightly baffled.  Caradoc's father was trying to follow Melse's speech but it tended to rely on the details of obscure laws that the Pyrees man had never heard of, and didn't care about.

"Not generous, Mr. Nuttall--merely practical," said Melse with a slight laugh, finally screwing up his courage and picking up a blood orange.  "You see, the old laws were poorly designed.  Why, do you realize--"  And here the Inspector's speech shifted into a mass of technicalities and mathematics, while Melse nibbled on a blood orange.

Caradoc sighed.  Inspector Melse seemed to eat, breathe and sleep tax laws.  He'd been hoping to ask him about affairs in Syra--how had Emperor Gereint solved the succession dispute that he'd been involved in when Caradoc had left Syra?  What were the latest fashions?  What was happening in the world at large?--things he didn't hear much of in an out of the way place like Poins.  But it seemed Melse was more interested in getting his job done than talking about affairs back in the Empire proper.  Oh, well.  Truth be told, the entire family was hoping to see the man go.  While Cador had hoped to improve his standing in the Small Council by being useful, mostly the Nuttalls seemed to have gathered a great deal of resentment as "Syran pets".  Plus, his constant comments on tax codes was getting nerve-wracking.

"--which is another way the new laws are an improvement," said Melse with a slight laugh.  "Delicious bit of fruit by the way.  I'll have to take a few with me on the road if you don't mind.  Madame?"  Elise Nuttall gave a slightly nervous nod, as Melse deftly grabbed a few blood oranges, and placed them in one of his belt pouches.  "So, as I was saying these new laws will make everyone's life easier."  The Inspector flashed a smile.  "That should make up for the soldiers, I think."

There was stunned silence for a moment.  "What did you say?" asked Cador quietly.

"It'll make up for the soldiers the Emperor's sending," noted Melse good-humoredly.  "A garrison, to man that ruined old Azerai fortress up there."  The Inspector shrugged.  "For your own good, really--the damn Hierarch is getting grabby these days--but still I know how you rural folk tend to feel about soldiers..."

*Graevel Kerd*
The talk in _The Bearded Flea_, Poins's only inn and only tavern--probably the only fact that kept it in business--was getting unpleasant.  

"--And all I'm saying is the way things have turned out, maybe we should have stuck with the Arch," muttered Goodman Brown acidly.  "I hear up in Fell the Emperor's sent troops.  They're turnin' the town all out of sorts."

"But tain't that where the next Reevemeet's gonna happen?" asked Sully Whyte quietly, his mug of ale untouched--something of a miracle for the man.

"Aye," noted Brown, "and you can guess what'll go down there when it does."  He took a long hard draught off his cup.  "In chains to face a tickling, and maybe a stickling, and then it's back to the bad old times..."

"What I can't stand is the new ale tax Inspector Melse's been prattling about," Lejah Doris, the _Flea_'s curvaceous barkeep, cook, and proprieter said frowning.  "A silver for the Emperor on every barrel I buy?  What's it his business to be poking his hand into mine?"

"It's the damn furiners," said Moran Gull, the tavern's oldest resident.  "We should close up the mountains to the Arch, to the Syrans, and to every other damn one of the bastards.  Outsiders never brought nothin' but trouble to us."  He glanced over and raised his glass.  "Present comp'ny ax-septed, course.  As hobs go, Graev, yer a peach."

Graeval raised his mug in reply and sighed.  They were a good people here, in their way, but a closed-minded one as well.  While he'd earned a measure of their trust, he was never sure what would happen if they found out the _entire_ truth about him...


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 13, 2005)

*Alan Hale Rogue 1*

Seeing the riders, Alan felt he had to go see them.  But first the chore.....After 5 minutes of work, he figured he was almost done......after 5 more minutes, Alan thought, I will finish it later.  Off he went to town to meet the riders.


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## jkason (Jul 13, 2005)

*Weel*

Weel considered cleaning off before tackling his first official task on his Long Walk. But then, Thraunos was a god who understood a good day's work and the dirt that built up. Weel decided he'd wear the travel dust and the untrimmed week of beard--and, yes, the beginnings of That Smell--as a testament to his labor thus far. 

Setting his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Weel entered the Temple to Assorted Gods to perform his duty.


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Seeing the riders, Alan felt he had to go see them.  But first the chore.....After 5 minutes of work, he figured he was almost done......after 5 more minutes, Alan thought, I will finish it later.  Off he went to town to meet the riders.




The riders seemed to have stopped on the road.  As Alan came near, he realized that the armor of the men was battered, and in poor repair.  One of the armored men was glancing at the man in fancy robes suspiciously.  "--thought he'd be gone by now, Ventruli..."

'Ventruli' sat calmly in the saddle, his eyes shut, as if in concentration.  He was a pale, handsome man with a sharp Rus look to him--he wore a green and yellow bandana on his head like some sort of Ulheru conjure-man.  "Such were my reports.  He appears to be lingering.  Anyway, we can just wait here for him to leave..."

One man with a rather scruffy beard spat on the ground.  "I don't know why we don't jump the bastard and slit his bandit throat..."

A man whose armor seemed to be of a finer quality glanced at him quietly.  "Because if we kill this one, the next one the Pretender sends will have guards.  And he'll know where to look now..."

"There's a young man looking at us, Helm" noted Ventruli, his eyes still closed.  "Looks like a farmer."

The man in the finer suit of armor turned, looking at Alan.  "So there is, Ventruli."  The man gets off his horse calmly, and extends his hand.  "Well met.  I'm Ritter Helm Sadric.  And you are?"


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 13, 2005)

Extending his hand, "I am Alan Hale.  Soon to be mighty soldier such as your self."   Ignoreing the guffaws, he looks at the unarmored one.  "Are you a mighty mage?  I saw your hawk go flying off.  Did it go tell the town of your upcoming arrival?"


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 13, 2005)

*Caradoc*

Caradoc calmly listened to the Inspector, while mentally rolling his eyes and groaning. _Oh, yes, more soldiers and more laws are _guaranteed _to make life easier_, he thought sarcastically. He wondered if the Emperor's concern lay less with the designs of the Hierarch than with the threat of Poins's populace welcoming an invasion with open arms...


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel considered cleaning off before tackling his first official task on his Long Walk. But then, Thraunos was a god who understood a good day's work and the dirt that built up. Weel decided he'd wear the travel dust and the untrimmed week of beard--and, yes, the beginnings of That Smell--as a testament to his labor thus far.
> 
> Setting his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Weel entered the Temple to Assorted Gods to perform his duty.




The Temple of Assorted Gods was a humble edifice, a simple wooden building built more for practicality then splendor.  But its stone walls were thick and well-made, and on the inside it had acquired through the years a rich assortment of decorations to satisfy the desires of the petitioners of various gods.  A rich Elven tapestry representing the Aellari--a group of Syran house shrine 'gods' to represent that well-regarded pantheon--an iron torch for Toreth--a porcelin mask for Sybal--a copy of the _Revelation_ for Malka--a two-faced coin for the Fortunae--and at the end of the hall, a small statue of Thraunos himself, with a mural of the rest of the Archean pantheon behind him.  

A shaggy haired, grey-bearded old man lay on a bench before the god's image, snoring loudly.  Weel recognized him as Phandros.


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc calmly listened to the Inspector, while mentally rolling his eyes and groaning. _Oh, yes, more soldiers and more laws are _guaranteed _to make life easier_, he thought sarcastically. He wondered if the Emperor's concern lay less with the designs of the Hierarch than with the threat of Poins's populace welcoming an invasion with open arms...




Inspector Melse stood up suddenly, with a yawn.  "Well, I really must be going.  They're expecting me up in Fell in a week."  He glanced at Cador.  "Have you--urr, got my horse saddled?"

Cador nodded.  "Just like you said, sir.  Ready to go."

Melse smiled.  "Excellent, excellent."  He gave a sweeping bow.  "My thanks for your hospitality."  He reached into his purse and threw some coins on the table.  "Consider this the barest repayment I can give you.  Farewell."  He jogged out of the room.  A mere glance out the window later showed the Inspector well on his way up north, driving his horse hard.

"That thin-blooded, prancing Syran fop!" yelled Else Nuttall as soon as he was gone.  "Acting as if he was afraid our food was poisoned..."

"I'm certain that wasn't the issue," muttered Cador to his wife.  "He's an Empire man.  They have different customs than us."  He shrugged.  "Plus he was a nervy bugger, I'd say."   Cador glanced at his son.  "So, Caradoc--now that that's--out of the way, why don't you open up the shop, and I'll join you--shortly."


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Extending his hand, "I am Alan Hale.  Soon to be mighty soldier such as your self."   Ignoreing the guffaws, he looks at the unarmored one.  "Are you a mighty mage?  I saw your hawk go flying off.  Did it go tell the town of your upcoming arrival?"




While his men laugh for the most part, Helm regards Hale fondly.  "Ignore them.  Courage, lad, is the finest thing a man may own."  He glances at Ventruli.  "As for him, he is indeed a mage--but his hawk goes to look for--well, one we are trying to avoid."

Ventruli's eyes snapped open.  "The Inspector has left, Helm."

Helm smiles.  "Excellent.  Tell me, Alan, care to join us?  We're looking for brave lads like you."


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## jkason (Jul 13, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> ...at the end of the hall, a small statue of Thraunos himself, with a mural of the rest of the Archean pantheon behind him.
> 
> A shaggy haired, grey-bearded old man lay on a bench before the god's image, snoring loudly.  Weel recognized him as Phandros.




Weel touched the rounded nail he wore on a leather strap hanging from his neck, silently offering a quick prayer of thanks to Thraunos for providing a solid house in which to worship, then he made his way to the bench.

Standing a few feet away so as not to loom over the old man, Weel cleared his throat, calling in what he hoped was a respectful tone "Master Phandros ... sir? I hate to ruin a good nap, but I'm here on church business."


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel touched the rounded nail he wore on a leather strap hanging from his neck, silently offering a quick prayer of thanks to Thraunos for providing a solid house in which to worship, then he made his way to the bench.
> 
> Standing a few feet away so as not to loom over the old man, Weel cleared his throat, calling in what he hoped was a respectful tone "Master Phandros ... sir? I hate to ruin a good nap, but I'm here on church business."




Phandros leapt up excitedly.  "What?  Who now?  I wasn't napping, I was--meditating.  Yes, meditating the grand problem of evil in this world, which touches all of us.  Yes."  He shook his slightly flabby head, and blinked his heavily lidded eyes, as if trying to recall something.  "Now then--church business..."  He stared at Weel's outfit for a moment, then gasped.  "Church business!  Oh, no!  You tell the bloody church it can go bugger itself!  I've made up my mind, and that's that!"  Darting to the corner, he quickly picked up a rather formidable looking mace.  "Of course, you would know that, wouldn't you, ehh, boy?  I mean, I think we both know the real 'church business' you're here on.  So, what'd they promise you, ehh?  A deanship, perhaps?  Or maybe even--a bishophoric?  But I flatter myself--there's no way I'm worth that much.  Well, whatever they're paying you, in a few minutes I'll show you that it's not enough, especially when you're standing in front of the gates of whatever Hell the gods have made for the entire blasted, bloody Church of Arch, may they all rot!"  He waves his mace threateningly.


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 13, 2005)

*Caradoc*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> "So, Caradoc--now that that's--out of the way, why don't you open up the shop, and I'll join you--shortly."




"Yes, Father," said Caradoc as he rose from the table. As he was exiting the room, he offhandedly remarked "And perhaps now that we're no longer playing host, we'll see business pick up again." He knew that the aspersions being cast by their neighbors, even moreso than the impending arrival of Syran troops, weighed heavily upon his father's mind.


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## mps42 (Jul 13, 2005)

Raising his tankard and taking a much smaller drink than appearances would suggest, Graevel ponders the talk of his companions. "Taxes are everywhere and no doubt about it," he says grimly. "I would think, though that they'd put it on the staples. The stuff we GOTTA have. You know, wheat, flour, Fresh fruit and whatnot. S'pose we's all to give up drink tomorrow?" He holds up his hand to hold off the incredulous stares of the others, "not that we WOULD. But if we did, all them taxes would disappear. Makes no sense to me. Maybe that's why I aint in charge."
 Graevel cautiously watched his companions, keep his ale mostly in his tankard and brooding all the while.


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## jkason (Jul 13, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Phandros leapt up excitedly.  "What?  Who now?  I wasn't napping, I was--meditating.  Yes, meditating the grand problem of evil in this world, which touches all of us.  Yes."  He shook his slightly flabby head, and blinked his heavily lidded eyes, as if trying to recall something.  "Now then--church business..."  He stared at Weel's outfit for a moment, then gasped.  "Church business!  Oh, no!  You tell the bloody church it can go bugger itself!  I've made up my mind, and that's that!"  Darting to the corner, he quickly picked up a rather formidable looking mace.  "Of course, you would know that, wouldn't you, ehh, boy?  I mean, I think we both know the real 'church business' you're here on.  So, what'd they promise you, ehh?  A deanship, perhaps?  Or maybe even--a bishophoric?  But I flatter myself--there's no way I'm worth that much.  Well, whatever they're paying you, in a few minutes I'll show you that it's not enough, especially when you're standing in front of the gates of whatever Hell the gods have made for the entire blasted, bloody Church of Arch, may they all rot!"  He waves his mace threateningly.




Startled, Weel took a step back and raised his hands high in what he hoped was a non-threatening stance. He couldn't say he at all approved of the condemnation of his pantheon, but thought it best to delay discussions of cultural sensitivity for a time when he didn't have an irate clergyman poised to crack his skull open.

"I'm entirely sure that my business doesn't require bludgeoning or other violence, Master Phandros." Weel assured the armed ancient. 

"That is, unless parchment and sealing wax have suddenly become deadly weapons, in which case it was horribly impolite for no one to have mentioned it to me. I've only a letter to deliver you on behalf of my mentor, Trac Esroh. If, of course, you might hold off braining me long enough for me to present it?"


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> "Yes, Father," said Caradoc as he rose from the table. As he was exiting the room, he offhandedly remarked "And perhaps now that we're no longer playing host, we'll see business pick up again." He knew that the aspersions being cast by their neighbors, even moreso than the impending arrival of Syran troops, weighed heavily upon his father's mind.




Cador made a distracted nod.  "Worth hoping."  He sighed.  "How about you take Mr. Melse's coinage to the cashbox, while you're at it.  We can at least pretend we've made a sale..."

Else glared at her husband.  "Cador--taking that stooge's blood money!"

Cador rolled his eyes.  "It isn't blood money, Else--it's just payment for room and board.  After all the misery that prat's caused us, we can at least show some profit from it..."


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Startled, Weel took a step back and raised his hands high in what he hoped was a non-threatening stance. He couldn't say he at all approved of the condemnation of his pantheon, but thought it best to delay discussions of cultural sensitivity for a time when he didn't have an irate clergyman poised to crack his skull open.
> 
> "I'm entirely sure that my business doesn't require bludgeoning or other violence, Master Phandros." Weel assured the armed ancient.
> 
> "That is, unless parchment and sealing wax have suddenly become deadly weapons, in which case it was horribly impolite for no one to have mentioned it to me. I've only a letter to deliver you on behalf of my mentor, Trac Esroh. If, of course, you might hold off braining me long enough for me to present it?"




The moment the words 'Trac Esroh' escape Weel's lips, Phandros immediately calms down, and places the mace back on the floor.  "Oh!  Esroh sent you!  Well, why didn't you say so!  Why'd you say you were here on church business?  You have no idea what a fright you gave me!"  He gives a hearty laugh.  "Thraunos be praised!  Always time for my old friend Esroh!"  He glances at Weel for a moment searchingly.  "Let's see--you'd be that acolyte he took up--Welt?  Woe?  Wessenfras?"  The old man shrugs.  "Oh, well, I'm sure it will come to me.  Come!  Tell me how the old boy's doing!  Has he kept his voice?  They used to call him 'Angel's Throat' Esroh back in seminary."  Phandros gives a familiar, nostalgic laugh, and then kneels before the statue of Thraunos.  He rubs his hand over the base, causing it to open with a snap, revealing a hidden compartment with a bottle and two small glasses in it.  Phandros begins to pour a reddish-brown liquid from the bottle.  "Come--share a cup with me.  Fine Oskian brandy--aged to perfection.  Those Sleurithians know their liquor, even if they're a lot of pretentious bastards who will get what's coming to them one of these days, mark my words."  He chuckles, puts down his bottle and sips from his glass.  "So how are things in Archea to start with?"


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> Raising his tankard and taking a much smaller drink than appearances would suggest, Graevel ponders the talk of his companions. "Taxes are everywhere and no doubt about it," he says grimly. "I would think, though that they'd put it on the staples. The stuff we GOTTA have. You know, wheat, flour, Fresh fruit and whatnot. S'pose we's all to give up drink tomorrow?" He holds up his hand to hold off the incredulous stares of the others, "not that we WOULD. But if we did, all them taxes would disappear. Makes no sense to me. Maybe that's why I aint in charge."
> Graevel cautiously watched his companions, keep his ale mostly in his tankard and brooding all the while.




Moran Gull cackles.  "Arch's Hard Hand, Graevel, I'm sure glad 'tain't you sittin' on the Golden Throne!  We'd be bleedin' gold into yer hands."  Most of the other patrons join him in laughter.

Goodman Brown seems less amused.  "The way I hear it, that's how they do things in the Empire proper.  But as for why he's not doin' it here--oh, Iron Hell, we all know, don't we?  Gereint may be yer typical Syran ghit, but he knows there's a limit to how much squeezing we'll take--at least to start.  But once he's got us used to it, he'll take a little more--and then a little more--and then a little more--until one day, the bastard's got everything we've got..."


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## jkason (Jul 13, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Phandros begins to pour a reddish-brown liquid from the bottle.  "Come--share a cup with me.  Fine Oskian brandy--aged to perfection.  Those Sleurithians know their liquor, even if they're a lot of pretentious bastards who will get what's coming to them one of these days, mark my words."  He chuckles, puts down his bottle and sips from his glass.  "So how are things in Archea to start with?"




Weel lets out a relieved sigh and moves to join the old temple guardian.

"It's Weel, sir, and I could certainly use a little something to wash the road grit down," he confides, reaching to pour himself a drink, as well. 

"I don't know how quickly the politics travel, but Inquisitor Melsea and the church of Vale took over Thraunos' management of Stawn a few years ago. I can't say I'm thrilled to lose Thraunos' name on a district, but I figure rulership is rather Vale's thing. Maybe it lets Thraunos' journeymen focus a little more on the work of building?"

Weel takes a drink of his own before continuing.

"Esroh, though ... well, he never would tell me what he thought of the whole affair. I have to say, he did strike me as worried when I brought it up, and when he tasked me with delivering your letter ... Let's just say I thought him unsettled. It's had me more than a little curious as to what he wrote you."

"Which reminds me," Weel finishes, reaching into his backpack to present the letter to Phandros. "This belongs to you."


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 13, 2005)

Caradoc sweeps the coins from the table, and leaves his parents to discuss the finer points of business ethics. He heads to the shop at the front of the house, depositing the Inspector's generosity in the cash-box. After making a cursory inventory and preparing the accounting ledger, he unlocks the front door, hangs the "open" placard beneath the "General Store" sign out front, and goes to wait behind the counter for the day's first customer.


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel lets out a relieved sigh and moves to join the old temple guardian.
> 
> "It's Weel, sir, and I could certainly use a little something to wash the road grit down," he confides, reaching to pour himself a drink, as well.
> 
> ...




Phandros takes the letter nervously.  "The Inquisition's taken Stawn, you say..."  His frown widened.  "I warned them," he muttered darkly, with a shake of his head.  "I warned them.  Those damn sneaks would never be happy with just running things behind the scenes--they want to come out and start doing it proper.  The next one to fall will be Guisen.  The Laughing Maiden's a god as out of step with the rest of the Church as poor old Thraunos is."  He clenches his fist.  "Just you watch!  Now that they've got a Hierarch who's behind them completely, they won't be happy with just the occasional priest!  They'll smash entire Orders now that they think they can!  Oh, Thraunos's Holy Trowel..."  He whimpers, and then opens the letter.  "Still--perhaps this is some good news."  Phandros's eyes wander over the message.  He grows pale, and drops it.  "That fool.  That brave, bold fool."  A tear rolls down his cheek.


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## Rhialto (Jul 13, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc sweeps the coins from the table, and leaves his parents to discuss the finer points of business ethics. He heads to the shop at the front of the house, depositing the Inspector's generosity in the cash-box. After making a cursory inventory and preparing the accounting ledger, he unlocks the front door, hangs the "open" placard beneath the "General Store" sign out front, and goes to wait behind the counter for the day's first customer.




It's as he's depositing them into the box that Caradoc realizes--these are Platinum Imperials.  The most valuable coin the Empire mints.


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## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Just you watch!  Now that they've got a Hierarch who's behind them completely, they won't be happy with just the occasional priest!  They'll smash entire Orders now that they think they can!  Oh, Thraunos's Holy Trowel..."  He whimpers, and then opens the letter.  "Still--perhaps this is some good news."  Phandros's eyes wander over the message.  He grows pale, and drops it.  "That fool.  That brave, bold fool."  A tear rolls down his cheek.




_Crying is definitely not a good sign,_ Weel thinks as he watches both tear and letter fall.

"Firstly: who in the name of Great Architect would want to smash a harmless Thraunian, let alone the entire sect? And secondly: I think it's time I found out what manner of brave, bold foolishness Master Esroh's been keeping from me."

With that, Weel reaches for the letter on the floor.


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> It's as he's depositing them into the box that Caradoc realizes--these are Platinum Imperials. The most valuable coin the Empire mints.




Once the value of the coins he'd tossed into the box sinks in, Caradoc first removes them from the box and stacks them next to it, so as to avoid accidentally using them to make change. Then, thinking better of just letting them lie about, he scoops them up and makes to go notify his father, and get the coins into safekeeping.


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## mps42 (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Moran Gull cackles.  "Arch's Hard Hand, Graevel, I'm sure glad 'tain't you sittin' on the Golden Throne!  We'd be bleedin' gold into yer hands."  Most of the other patrons join him in laughter.
> 
> Goodman Brown seems less amused.  "The way I hear it, that's how they do things in the Empire proper.  But as for why he's not doin' it here--oh, Iron Hell, we all know, don't we?  Gereint may be yer typical Syran ghit, but he knows there's a limit to how much squeezing we'll take--at least to start.  But once he's got us used to it, he'll take a little more--and then a little more--and then a little more--until one day, the bastard's got everything we've got..."




"It may even be as you say, Goodman. All I know is the new taxes be lighter on my back an suren thats a welcome thing."


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 14, 2005)

*Alan Hale Rogue 1*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> While his men laugh for the most part, Helm regards Hale fondly.  "Ignore them.  Courage, lad, is the finest thing a man may own."  He glances at Ventruli.  "As for him, he is indeed a mage--but his hawk goes to look for--well, one we are trying to avoid."
> 
> Ventruli's eyes snapped open.  "The Inspector has left, Helm."
> 
> Helm smiles.  "Excellent.  Tell me, Alan, care to join us?  We're looking for brave lads like you."





Said with wide eyed astonishment "Could I, yes I would.  My family will not miss me in the least.  Who among you skillfull warriors will share their horse with me.?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> _Crying is definitely not a good sign,_ Weel thinks as he watches both tear and letter fall.
> 
> "Firstly: who in the name of Great Architect would want to smash a harmless Thraunian, let alone the entire sect? And secondly: I think it's time I found out what manner of brave, bold foolishness Master Esroh's been keeping from me."
> 
> With that, Weel reaches for the letter on the floor.




"He is going to speak to the Hierarch.  He is going to protest his decision.  He is going to his death."  Phandros takes a deep breath.  "Lad, I know it seems hard to believe that any could want to harm our Order--but the Valeites do.  The Order and the Inquisition of Vale are both hungry for power, and jealous of their position.  We Thraunians are--an easy target.  Respected, but not necessarily loved.  And--we are different than them--more accomodating.  This is not something they respect..."  He shakes his head.  "But I'm getting into an old dispute..."  He glances at Weel.  "Just be warned--the world is growing more dangerous for us..."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Said with wide eyed astonishment "Could I, yes I would.  My family will not miss me in the least.  Who among you skillfull warriors will share their horse with me.?"




The scruffily bearded man laughs.  "Hell, Scrouse ain't ever been particular about his company.  Jump on lad, and we'll take you into town."  The riders quickly take off and head into Poins.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 14, 2005)

*Alan Hale Rogue 1*

While bouncing along on the back Alan ponders that he has no money, no sword, no armor.

"Sir, how to I acquire weponary and armor?  Do I need to rob someone or fight a dragon or even plunder a dead man?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Once the value of the coins he'd tossed into the box sinks in, Caradoc first removes them from the box and stacks them next to it, so as to avoid accidentally using them to make change. Then, thinking better of just letting them lie about, he scoops them up and makes to go notify his father, and get the coins into safekeeping.




As he does so, he is startled to see five horseman charge into town square.  Alan Dale, an acquaintance, is riding with one of them.  The horsemen stop and dismount.  Their apparent leader glances around the square.  "I am calling for all men of courage!  Who wants to fight for justice, honor, and liberty?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> While bouncing along on the back Alan ponders that he has no money, no sword, no armor.
> 
> "Sir, how to I acquire weponary and armor?  Do I need to rob someone or fight a dragon or even plunder a dead man?"




"Relax," says the scruffily bearded man.  "The Army of the True Emperor will do for ya."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> "It may even be as you say, Goodman. All I know is the new taxes be lighter on my back an suren thats a welcome thing."




Goodman seems about to say something cutting when you hear someone talking loudly about justice in the town square.  Most of the patrons--and the barkeep for that matter--head out for a look.


----------



## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "He is going to speak to the Hierarch.  He is going to protest his decision.  He is going to his death."  Phandros takes a deep breath.  "Lad, I know it seems hard to believe that any could want to harm our Order--but the Valeites do.  The Order and the Inquisition of Vale are both hungry for power, and jealous of their position.  We Thraunians are--an easy target.  Respected, but not necessarily loved.  And--we are different than them--more accomodating.  This is not something they respect..."  He shakes his head.  "But I'm getting into an old dispute..."  He glances at Weel.  "Just be warned--the world is growing more dangerous for us..."




Weel sighs loudly to try to calm himself, though his head begins pounding even as he speaks.

"So, to sum up: the Valeites want to kill us mostly because they don't find much use to us and we're just agreeable enough to maybe not put up much of a fight. My mentor, meanwhile, has decided to show Vale what kind of strength comes from centuries of wrangling teamsters and construction crews. He's putting up a fight--and a very public one, if he's going as high as the Hierarch--turning himself into a target.

"And, if childhood bullies are any template for adult powermongers, probably only succeeding in raising the Valeites' ire toward Thraunians."

Weel puts his head in his hands.

"I knew I should have been a carpenter," he mutters. "Politics makes my brain hurt. And my stomach. I think I'm going to need a lot more drink than you have in that bottle, good Phandros."

As he tops off his glass, Weel adds, "Also, I'm quite ready for advice. This certainly isn't the sort of thing I bargained to run into on my Long Walk."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

Phandros shrugs.  "Well, I can always recommend my method--wall yourself up in the most secluded post you can find, and hope they forget about you."  He chuckles slightly.  "But then, I don't think you'd find that to your fancy.  All I can suggest is keep on the road--look out for Inquisitors, Malkists and those damned Khureg slavers--and don't go back to Archea, if you can help it."  He walks to the back of the room, and opens another panel in the wall.  "Also go armed, if you can."  He hands Weel a sturdy looking mace.  

Outside the temple, there seemed to be some emotional activity going on in the square...


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> As he does so, he is startled to see five horseman charge into town square. Alan Dale, an acquaintance, is riding with one of them. The horsemen stop and dismount. Their apparent leader glances around the square. "I am calling for all men of courage! Who wants to fight for justice, honor, and liberty?"




Hearing what sounds like a classic call to popular rebellion, with troops from the Emperor expected before long, Caradoc pockets the coins as he pivots on a heel and jogs back out the front door, so as not to miss any details that might prove useful in choosing sides, and degrees of involvement, during the inevitable political alignments to come.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 14, 2005)

*Alan Hale*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> As he does so, he is startled to see five horseman charge into town square.  Alan Dale, an acquaintance, is riding with one of them.  The horsemen stop and dismount.  Their apparent leader glances around the square.  "I am calling for all men of courage!  Who wants to fight for justice, honor, and liberty?"




Seeing Caradoc, Alan calls, "Caradoc, come join us. This is what we have been hoping for, a chance to leave this area and save pretty damsels in distress. I am joining and I could use your melodious verses to keep me company."


----------



## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "All I can suggest is keep on the road--look out for Inquisitors, Malkists and those damned Khureg slavers--and don't go back to Archea, if you can help it."  He walks to the back of the room, and opens another panel in the wall.  "Also go armed, if you can."  He hands Weel a sturdy looking mace.
> 
> Outside the temple, there seemed to be some emotional activity going on in the square...




As he hears the ruckus outside, Weel half-turns to the front door of the temple and groans.

"What _more_ could go--?" he starts, then pulls up short.

"I'm going to stop right there, I think, because this would be the day Thraunos takes such a statement as a request. I'd much rather save some divine favor for helping things go _right_." 

Weel hefts his backpack, and takes up his quarterstaff/walking stick/oversized rule, looking toward the front. "Thraunos tasks his journeymen as the contract allows," he declares. "Nothing to it but to start the job."

Before leaving, though, the young cleric takes a moment to accept the offered weapon, bowing to the old temple's keeper as he does.

"But it never hurts to have the best tools you can," Weel says. "Many thanks for your hospitality, Master Phandros. Thraunos shelter you."

With that, Weel lashes the mace to his belt lest he look too threatening wandering around with the heafty weapon bared, and walks out of the temple to see about the newest commotion to arrive today.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 14, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Seeing Caradoc, Alan calls, "Caradoc, come join us. This is what we have been hoping for, a chance to leave this area and save pretty damsels in distress. I am joining and I could use your melodious verses to keep me company."




Somewhat taken aback by just how accurate an assessment of his desires Alan has made, Caradoc replies, "well, this certainly appears to be an... intriguing... situation. Just a moment, my friend!" He turns to the riders' spokesman. "Hail, sir! I am Caradoc Nuttall, local merchant... for the time being... May I ask what, exactly, your courageous crusade is directed against, and how it brings you to our humble village?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

The man glances over the crowd that has gathered "Men and women of Poins!  I am Ritter Helm Sadric, a noble of Syra.  In our recent struggles, I fought in the train of Prince Guy of Holyhall, the true heir to the Golden Throne.  However, our noble endeavor to see justice done was thwarted by the treachery of his cousin, Gereint.  I know that you have recently felt his grasping hand!  I ask what any man of courage knows in his heart is right--that you join us to help restore the Empire to its rightful monarch!"


----------



## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> The man glances over the crowd that has gathered "Men and women of Poins!  I am Ritter Helm Sadric, a noble of Syra.  In our recent struggles, I fought in the train of Prince Guy of Holyhall, the true heir to the Golden Throne.  However, our noble endeavor to see justice done was thwarted by the treachery of his cousin, Gereint.  I know that you have recently felt his grasping hand!  I ask what any man of courage knows in his heart is right--that you join us to help restore the Empire to its rightful monarch!"




As Weel approaches the crowd and hears the announcement, he considers a moment. _Joining a movement bound to Syra isn't likely to involve returning to Arch, at least,_ he thinks. _Of course, rebellions have a tendency to involve fighting, which has the unhealthy side affect of occasionally leading to dying._

Pound the walls of a condemned building from the inside, or try building a road through a forest fire? Such lovely choices Weel seemed to have these days.

Either way, wearing Thraunos on one's sleeve isn't likely to be a benefit, he realizes. the Inquisition in Arch apparently want them gone, and members of Archean religious Orders--while common and accepted in a borderland like the Pyrees--probably aren't as likely to find a warm reception in the Empire proper. Or by people claiming they represent its central forces. 

Regretting but respecting the need for discretion, Weel handles the circular nail hanging from his neck and sends up a silent prayer for guidance, then conceals the holy symbol beneath his armor and shirt. 

_[OOC: Weel's going to stick to the back of the crowd for now, waiting to see what others do / the small contingent have to offer]_


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 14, 2005)

_Which to choose - the tyrant you know, or the tyrant who hasn't yet proven himself one?_ Caradoc pondered. "Noble Ritter, I pray you do not think it too presumptuous of me to ask, but what superior right to the throne does the Prince possess?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

"The right of trueborn blood!"  answers the Syran nobleman majestically.  "The right of arms!  And the right of being a forthright and true man, facing a backstabbing and false one!  When the throne is his once more, you'll not see Guy sending his agents to take what is yours!"

The Ritter's comments send a cheer through the crowd.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 14, 2005)

_Well, if nothing more, this is a chance to prove that my family isn't in the Emperor's pocket... as good an excuse as any to get out of the shop for a while._

"If that is the case, then I offer my service in restoring rightful rulership!"


----------



## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "The right of trueborn blood!"  answers the Syran nobleman majestically.  "The right of arms!  And the right of being a forthright and true man, facing a backstabbing and false one!  When the throne is his once more, you'll not see Guy sending his agents to take what is yours!"
> 
> The Ritter's comments send a cheer through the crowd.




_Weel, if you know what's good for you, you will keep your mouth well and truly shut,_ the cleric scolded himself. Unfortunately, when it came to taking things apart to find out how they worked, Weel had the irritating habit of not listening to his own best self-preserving instincts. At least, that's what Mother always said, usually when she was mending wounds from falling furniture or tool mishaps.

"Pardon, Sir Sadric," Weel spoke up with genuine curiosity and a trace of bafflement. He hoped his voice didn't carry any reproachment. Either way, his politics headache was starting to return. "But if this is a fight of trueborn Syran blood, why is the Prince collecting his army from the Archean mixes of the Pyrees?"


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 14, 2005)

Alan comes over to Caradoc, slaps him on the back than whispers, "I do not care whose side we are on, any side is better than here."  Louder, "but it is great that you made sure we where on the winning side."

OOC: I should be offline until monday morning.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 14, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> "Pardon, Sir Sadric," Weel spoke up with genuine curiosity and a trace of bafflement. He hoped his voice didn't carry any reproachment. Either way, his politics headache was starting to return. "But if this is a fight of trueborn Syran blood, why is the Prince collecting his army from the Archean mixes of the Pyrees?"





"Because his force was routed by the Usurper's army, and this is the last bastion of justice in the Empire," answers Helm.  "Prince Guy knows the heart of the good men of the Pyrees.  You'll not let a baseborn bastard rule over you, in defiance of law!"


----------



## jkason (Jul 14, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Because his force was routed by the Usurper's army, and this is the last bastion of justice in the Empire," answers Helm.  "Prince Guy knows the heart of the good men of the Pyrees.  You'll not let a baseborn bastard rule over you, in defiance of law!"




_Two out of two elders agree I shouldn't be in Archea,_ Weel thought. _But maybe if I help the Syrans in unseating their usurper, I can find aid in combatting the usurper my mentor faces._

Weel drew a deep breath and tried to look inspired as he offered his aid. "When do you plan to depart, Sir, and where do you gather?"


----------



## mps42 (Jul 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Goodman seems about to say something cutting when you hear someone talking loudly about justice in the town square.  Most of the patrons--and the barkeep for that matter--head out for a look.




 Curious as any other, Graevel sets down his tankard, along with his coins, and heads out into the town square.


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 18, 2005)

Alan looks around at all the on lookers, wondering who in the crowd might tell his parents.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 18, 2005)

Helm smiles at Weel's questions.  "We'll stay here for the night, then get you recruits some horses."   He nods over his shoulder, indicating his men.  "Kaspar, Bernlad, and Origen can help you get your bearings straight."   He takes one last look at the crowd.  "Well?  Is that all?  Only three people are willing to bring the fight to the Emperor?"  He catches sight of Graeval in the crowd.  "Brother Nibelung!  Long have my people stood in friendship with yours!  Will you let this usurper take our land from us, as the cruel clan of Bressa has taken your lands from you?"


----------



## jkason (Jul 18, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm smiles at Weel's questions.  "We'll stay here for the night, then get you recruits some horses."   He nods over his shoulder, indicating his men.  "Kaspar, Bernlad, and Origen can help you get your bearings straight."   He takes one last look at the crowd.  "Well?  Is that all?  Only three people are willing to bring the fight to the Emperor?"  He catches sight of Graeval in the crowd.  "Brother Nibelung!  Long have my people stood in friendship with yours!  Will you let this usurper take our land from us, as the cruel clan of Bressa has taken your lands from you?"




Weel moves over to join the other two new recruits. Weel's used to being the "big guy" in a crowd, and isn't quite sure what to make of the towering youth who came in with the recruiters. Still, he extends his hand in the general direction of both young men, plants a smile he hopes looks warm and sincere despite his general apprehensions about what might be coming down the line, and makes with the introductions. 

"Hello, I'm Weel. I'm actually from Poins, myself, but I've been ... abroad several years. Came back to visit my family. At least the overnight stay will let us say a proper goodbye, then, right?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 18, 2005)

While Helm continues to extort the crowd for more members, and the mysterious Rus noble leans on his horse, watching the scene in apparent boredom, the other three Syrans walk towards the recruits.  A man with a scruffy beard glances at them.  "I'm takin' the boys to the local hostelry.  If'n ye want a word with us--well, we'll be at the bar.  Lubricatin' our thinkin' processes."


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 18, 2005)

Alan introduces himself, and asks, "if they should also go to the tavern?"


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 18, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel moves over to join the other two new recruits. Weel's used to being the "big guy" in a crowd, and isn't quite sure what to make of the towering youth who came in with the recruiters. Still, he extends his hand in the general direction of both young men, plants a smile he hopes looks warm and sincere despite his general apprehensions about what might be coming down the line, and makes with the introductions.
> 
> "Hello, I'm Weel. I'm actually from Poins, myself, but I've been ... abroad several years. Came back to visit my family. At least the overnight stay will let us say a proper goodbye, then, right?"




Caradoc returns the handshake with a nod and a smile. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Caradoc Nuttall, also originally from Poins, recently returned from a few years' study in Syra to work in my family's store just across the street there. Speaking of which, I had better go and explain my decision regarding recent events before too long." He turns to Alan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "And Alan, so good to see you again! Of course, it looks as though we'll be seeing one another regularly for some time to come, though I'm not quite sure how long the average insurrection lasts" he says with a laugh.


----------



## jkason (Jul 18, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc returns the handshake with a nod and a smile. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Caradoc Nuttall, also originally from Poins, recently returned from a few years' study in Syra to work in my family's store just across the street there. Speaking of which, I had better go and explain my decision regarding recent events before too long." He turns to Alan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "And Alan, so good to see you again! Of course, it looks as though we'll be seeing one another regularly for some time to come, though I'm not quite sure how long the average insurrection lasts" he says with a laugh.




Weel nods at the sentiments of both young men. 

"Yes, my parents haven't seen me in far too long, and they deserve a proper sit down before I run off," he says. "But I suspect it won't do to turn down an offer of hospitality from the men who'll be giving us our marching orders. A short drink, I say, then I'm off to share unexpected news with my family before the morning."

Weel gestures after the departing soldiers and heads off to follow. This day was turning out to be a series of events that deserved a hearty drink to help wash them down.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 18, 2005)

Inside _The Bearded Flea_, Doris has already returned, along with several of the patrons.  The three Syran soldiers quickly take a table in the corner, and quietly order drinks.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 18, 2005)

Caradoc nods in agreement with Weel, and begins to follow. "Yes, that sounds fine. Best to find out what's what before anyone who might have been helpful becomes too drowsy or... "spirit-ed" to give us any useful information."


----------



## jkason (Jul 18, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Inside _The Bearded Flea_, Doris has already returned, along with several of the patrons.  The three Syran soldiers quickly take a table in the corner, and quietly order drinks.




Weel takes a seat at the table with the Syrans _[OOC: if the table's too small to accomodate six comfortably, he'll just grab an adjascent one]_, and introduces himself in much the same way he did to Caradoc and Alan, and orders for himself, as well. 

After successfully managing to keep his knee from bouncing with his nervous energy, he turns to the scruffy-bearded man who spoke to him outside and starts with "So, then, have the three of you been following Sir Sadric long, then? How long has he been recruiting, anyway?"


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 18, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel takes a seat at the table with the Syrans _[OOC: if the table's too small to accomodate six comfortably, he'll just grab an adjascent one]_, and introduces himself in much the same way he did to Caradoc and Alan, and orders for himself, as well.
> 
> After successfully managing to keep his knee from bouncing with his nervous energy, he turns to the scruffy-bearded man who spoke to him outside and starts with "So, then, have the three of you been following Sir Sadric long, then? How long has he been recruiting, anyway?"




...And, Caradoc chimes in, what might our immediate objective be? I don't imagine we'll be storming any city walls right from the get-go."


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 19, 2005)

Alan is about to ask a question as well but holds off.  Seeiong the looks on the soldiers faces, he decides to listen some more before asking any questions.

Questions he plans to ask: [sblock]How many people have you killed?  How many damsels have you rescued?  Do lefty swordsman exist?  Are the easier or harder to duel? etc....[/sblock]


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 19, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel takes a seat at the table with the Syrans _[OOC: if the table's too small to accomodate six comfortably, he'll just grab an adjascent one]_, and introduces himself in much the same way he did to Caradoc and Alan, and orders for himself, as well.
> 
> After successfully managing to keep his knee from bouncing with his nervous energy, he turns to the scruffy-bearded man who spoke to him outside and starts with "So, then, have the three of you been following Sir Sadric long, then? How long has he been recruiting, anyway?"




One of the men--a somewhat thickset fellow with a heavy mustache snorts.  "Long enough,"  he mutters darkly.

"Kaspar,"  chides a thin, cleanshaven man with a scar on his cheek.  He glances cheerfully at the recruits.  "Ritter Kaspar and I have served with Helm off and on for--oh, about six or seven years."   He stands briefly and takes a slight bow.  "Ritter Origen ap Orway."


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## mps42 (Jul 19, 2005)

"If you'll pardon my asking, as I seem to have come in on the tail end of the dog, as it might be said, what exactly is going on. I was in The Bearded Flea just now and head talk of 'Justice in the square' and came out to see what might be going on. Now I hear talk of fighting the Emperor. That aint justice, thats foolishness.
 "Now," turning to the man who has referred to him as 'brother', "who are you to be calling me brother when I don't know you from a horses arse?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 19, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> "If you'll pardon my asking, as I seem to have come in on the tail end of the dog, as it might be said, what exactly is going on. I was in The Bearded Flea just now and head talk of 'Justice in the square' and came out to see what might be going on. Now I hear talk of fighting the Emperor. That aint justice, thats foolishness.
> "Now," turning to the man who has referred to him as 'brother', "who are you to be calling me brother when I don't know you from a horses arse?"




"Ritter Helm Sadric, a rider of Syra, and brother to all men of courage," says the man, eyeing Graeval warily.  "And it is foolishness to wish to see a usurper overthrown, and your land free?  If so, I say--we need more fools."


----------



## jkason (Jul 19, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> One of the men--a somewhat thickset fellow with a heavy mustache snorts.  "Long enough,"  he mutters darkly.
> 
> "Kaspar,"  chides a thin, cleanshaven man with a scar on his cheek.  He glances cheerfully at the recruits.  "Ritter Kaspar and I have served with Helm off and on for--oh, about six or seven years."   He stands briefly and takes a slight bow.  "Ritter Origen ap Orway."




Weel turns to the unnamed third--the one who originally invited the young men to the bar.

"I take it, then, that you're the Bernlad that Ritter Helm named?"

He nods respectfully to the three Ritters.

"Well met, all, and a respectable term of service, too. I'll admit to a general curiosity about the life of a noble and a rebel all in one, but I think Caradoc seems to have the right of it: what _is_ our first step on this road to insurgency?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 19, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel turns to the unnamed third--the one who originally invited the young men to the bar.
> 
> "I take it, then, that you're the Bernlad that Ritter Helm named?"
> 
> ...





Bernlad takes a laugh.  "Lad, I've got an inklin' yer impressed by their titles.  Don't be.  It's been said that you can't throw a stone in Syra without hittin' a Ritter.  Any drunken fool of a Graf can make them, and most do.  And with that outta the way--Waldgrave Bernlad Whitewater, at yer service."   He glances up at Doris.  "Innkeep!  This liquor tastes like turpentine!"

Doris eyes him critically.  "That so?"

"Indeed it is!" declares Bernlad.  "Another bottle, posthaste!"   He glances at Weel, Caradoc and Alan.  "Now, as for our plans--right now, we're diggin' in at our camp, tryin' to gather men, and gain support.  A lot of our work at the moment is just keeping the resistance alive--gatherin' supplies, treatin' the men, keepin' Gereint's men off'n our back, occasionally doin' a little violence to remind him we ain't dead yet, and show people we mean business."  As Doris brings him a second bottle of her infamous 'Rotgut', Bernlad takes it, and downs it with a solid swig. He smiles.  "Ahh, that hit the spot!  Reminds me a good ol' Whitewater, it does!"  His expression grows more serious.  "Some are talkin' about other missions, to--accomplish weightier thin's, but that's somethin' I don't know enough to feel safe talkin' on, and hush-hush enough to make it safer not to, at the nonce."


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 19, 2005)

Alan's eyes are wide open as he hears all of this.  His mind wanders abit to life at camp, the drilling and practice.  Than he thinks to weighter issues and imagines calls in the dark of night and the leaving to do unmentioned great deeds.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 19, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Now, as for our plans--right now, we're diggin' in at our camp, tryin' to gather men, and gain support. A lot of our work at the moment is just keeping the resistance alive--gatherin' supplies, treatin' the men, keepin' Gereint's men off'n our back, occasionally doin' a little violence to remind him we ain't dead yet, and show people we mean business." As Doris brings him a second bottle of her infamous 'Rotgut', Bernlad takes it, and downs it with a solid swig. He smiles. "Ahh, that hit the spot! Reminds me a good ol' Whitewater, it does!" His expression grows more serious. "Some are talkin' about other missions, to--accomplish weightier thin's, but that's somethin' I don't know enough to feel safe talkin' on, and hush-hush enough to make it safer not to, at the nonce."




Caradoc nods. "Understandably. Regarding the gathering of support, I'm curious: has there been any attempt to seek aid from some of the neighboring nations, if only covertly for the time being? I don't mean to suggest indebting ourselves to anyone, but possibly forging a mutually beneficial relationship."


----------



## jkason (Jul 19, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc nods. "Understandably. Regarding the gathering of support, I'm curious: has there been any attempt to seek aid from some of the neighboring nations, if only covertly for the time being? I don't mean to suggest indebting ourselves to anyone, but possibly forging a mutually beneficial relationship."




Weel's ears perk up at the mention of foreign aid. He stops his instinctive reach for the now-concealed holy symbol, though, and decides to hold off making mention of just where he's "been abroad" until he hears an answer from Bernlad or one of the others.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 19, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc nods. "Understandably. Regarding the gathering of support, I'm curious: has there been any attempt to seek aid from some of the neighboring nations, if only covertly for the time being? I don't mean to suggest indebting ourselves to anyone, but possibly forging a mutually beneficial relationship."




Bernlad chuckles.  "Smart lad.  An' to answer yer questions, let's just say we're in talks with some... interested parties, and leave it at that..."

Origen clicks his tongue in disgust.  "Honestly, Bernlad, do you have to be such a showoff?"


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 19, 2005)

A slight whisper may be heard from Alan, "fighting in foriegn lands."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 19, 2005)

Kaspar glances over at Alan, clearly startled.  "Well, not for a while, lad!  First, we need to get to camp..."


----------



## jkason (Jul 19, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kaspar glances over at Alan, clearly startled.  "Well, not for a while, lad!  First, we need to get to camp..."




Weel slugs back his own drink. He's still not sure what response his own unacknowledged ties to foreign soil might engender, but he also figures he's had quite enough hit him for one day. 

"Camp we'll see tomorrow, yes? First, I've yet to pay my respects to my family, and I'm sure they'll have plenty to say about today's decisions. Since I'd hate to be late on my first day in the service of revolution, I think I'll face my familial obligations now."

Weel plops his money for the drink on the table*, then stands, nodding his head again to the three recruiters and the two other local recruits. 

"My thanks for answering questions, sirs. I'm sure there will be more in the morning when we meet again in the square. Until then."

Head reeling from the information of his unexpectedly eventful first day home in years--and maybe also reeling a little from the drink--Weel heads off to break the news of his much-shorter-than-intended visit to his parents and try to get some rest before the group heads out the next day.

*_[OOC: Checked the online SRD, and it looks like regular drinks only cost a couple coppers, so I'm just going to assume those stray silver and coppers I had went to incidentals like the drinks and such this day / evening and start out with the even 25 gold for the trip, unless you want me to deduct a specific amount?]_


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 20, 2005)

Caradoc rises with a sigh. "I think you've got the right idea, my friend. I'll be needing to explain to my father why he'll be short-handed for a while, as well as preparing some necessities to take along."

_Hmm. I wonder if I might convince Father to allow me part of the Inspector's payment as an advance on my pay?_ he wonders, feeling the coins shift as he stands.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 20, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kaspar glances over at Alan, clearly startled.  "Well, not for a while, lad!  First, we need to get to camp..."





As if it was even possible, Alan's eyes opened even wider, than his cheeks turned a pale shade of pink.  "Getting to camp sounds like a lovely idea."


----------



## mps42 (Jul 20, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Ritter Helm Sadric, a rider of Syra, and brother to all men of courage," says the man, eyeing Graeval warily.  "And it is foolishness to wish to see a usurper overthrown, and your land free?  If so, I say--we need more fools."




 "The foolishness is thinking that a few farmers and townspeople, which is all that you'll find here, can be a threat to the armies of the Emperor, whether you consider him a usurper or not.
 "Where are your armies, Ritter Helm Sadric? Show me that force and I may agree to join you."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 20, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> "The foolishness is thinking that a few farmers and townspeople, which is all that you'll find here, can be a threat to the armies of the Emperor, whether you consider him a usurper or not.
> "Where are your armies, Ritter Helm Sadric? Show me that force and I may agree to join you."




Helm seems to control his anger and frustration--but just barely.  "You wish to see our armies, Nibelung?  Very well!  Come with me, and I'll show them to you!  Then you can decide whether or not we're a force to challenge the Emperor!"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 20, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel slugs back his own drink. He's still not sure what response his own unacknowledged ties to foreign soil might engender, but he also figures he's had quite enough hit him for one day.
> 
> "Camp we'll see tomorrow, yes? First, I've yet to pay my respects to my family, and I'm sure they'll have plenty to say about today's decisions. Since I'd hate to be late on my first day in the service of revolution, I think I'll face my familial obligations now."
> 
> ...




OOC:  That'll be fine.

IC: 

Weel's parents are overjoyed to seem him, and take his announcement that he's going to join the Army of the True Emperor with a mixture of pride and trepidition.


----------



## jkason (Jul 20, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> OOC:  That'll be fine.
> 
> IC:
> 
> Weel's parents are overjoyed to seem him, and take his announcement that he's going to join the Army of the True Emperor with a mixture of pride and trepidition.




Weel, for his part, feels much the same way. He does his best to assure them he'll take care of himself, though. And lost district or no, he knows Thraunos is a vigilant supervisor.

Then Weel tries to make the most of his short time to catch up with his folks, mostly while doing what handy tasks he might around the place. Fixing things was always something that eased his mind. And when they've finally exhausted themselves with tinkering and talking, he cleans up (Thraunos be praised for a hot bath!) and goes to bed. 

It's difficult to fall asleep with so many possible dangers suddenly available in Weel's life, but the presence of his quarterstaff and Phandros' gifted mace propped against the wall within easy reach help provide a limited sense of security.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 20, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm seems to control his anger and frustration--but just barely.  "You wish to see our armies, Nibelung?  Very well!  Come with me, and I'll show them to you!  Then you can decide whether or not we're a force to challenge the Emperor!"





Alan eagerly asks, "oh can I join in the inspection of the troops with you?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 20, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Alan eagerly asks, "oh can I join in the inspection of the troops with you?"





OOC:  As you're in the bar, and Helm and Graeval are bickering outside, you hear this as muffled, hard to identify speaking, with perhaps a few words intelligble.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 20, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc rises with a sigh. "I think you've got the right idea, my friend. I'll be needing to explain to my father why he'll be short-handed for a while, as well as preparing some necessities to take along."
> 
> _Hmm. I wonder if I might convince Father to allow me part of the Inspector's payment as an advance on my pay?_ he wonders, feeling the coins shift as he stands.




Caradoc arrives back in the shop to find his father there, sitting at the desk, and tapping his fingers, with his mother standing behind Cador nervously.  "So, Caradoc, would you mind telling me where you've been?" he asks calmly.  Perhaps too calmly.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 20, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> OOC:  As you're in the bar, and Helm and Graeval are bickering outside, you hear this as muffled, hard to identify speaking, with perhaps a few words intelligble.




OOC: whoops.  Sorry.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 21, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Caradoc arrives back in the shop to find his father there, sitting at the desk, and tapping his fingers, with his mother standing behind Cador nervously. "So, Caradoc, would you mind telling me where you've been?" he asks calmly. Perhaps too calmly.




_"_I'm sorry for leaving the shop unattended, Father, but a group of soldiers had ridden into the square, and were raising a call to arms. I didn't know if the troops from Syra had already arrived, or if perhaps the village was under attack, so I thought it wise to examine the situation, so as to be best prepared for all eventualities. Now, we haven't spoken of this to one another, but I'm sure we're all aware of how some of our neighbors have begun to view us since the Inspector began his stay here."

He pauses for emphasis, then goes on, "Well, as it turned out, these soldiers presented an opportunity for me to restore our reputation. Apparently, they are in the service of a man who is... at odds with the Emperor. The details aren't important, but the citizenry was, naturally, quite in favor of anything that could possibly result in a retraction of the Emperor's less popular policies. Well, to make a long story short, I took advantage of their enthusiasm, and publicly volunteered my service in these men's... political operations. You know how I've always had something of a knack for things of a diplomatic nature," he says with a modest smile, and waits for his parents' response.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 21, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> _"_I'm sorry for leaving the shop unattended, Father, but a group of soldiers had ridden into the square, and were raising a call to arms. I didn't know if the troops from Syra had already arrived, or if perhaps the village was under attack, so I thought it wise to examine the situation, so as to be best prepared for all eventualities. Now, we haven't spoken of this to one another, but I'm sure we're all aware of how some of our neighbors have begun to view us since the Inspector began his stay here."
> 
> He pauses for emphasis, then goes on, "Well, as it turned out, these soldiers presented an opportunity for me to restore our reputation. Apparently, they are in the service of a man who is... at odds with the Emperor. The details aren't important, but the citizenry was, naturally, quite in favor of anything that could possibly result in a retraction of the Emperor's less popular policies. Well, to make a long story short, I took advantage of their enthusiasm, and publicly volunteered my service in these men's... political operations. You know how I've always had something of a knack for things of a diplomatic nature," he says with a modest smile, and waits for his parents' response.




"Son," begins his father slowly, "I cannot allow..."

"Oh, stow it, Cador," declares Else Nuttall fierly.  "Can't you see Caradoc's right?  And just last night we were talking about him him wasting his life here!"

Cador blinked.  "Yes, dear, but--well, wars are..."

"Dangerous, but I bet our boy can handle himself," replies Else.  "And I seem to recall something you can give him to help with that."

Cador Nuttall stares at his wife quietly.  "You're not budging on this, are you?"

"Twenty years we've been married, and you have to ask me that now?" says Else, crossing her arms.

Cador coughs, and then heads upstairs for a moment, returning shortly thereafter with a large chest.  "Son, since your mother and I have decided this was probably a good decision on your part, I guess I should mention this to you.  You're not the first Nuttall to go to the Wars.  Your grandfather Lucan, and his brother, Cassawallan, went off and fought with the Brothers against Gavaine the Cruel.  They both did well, and wound up serving in Gaheris's Gallants, as they called the bunch, with honors.  Afterwards, they fought in the Khuldeshian Uprising of 1458, where your grandfather made a mint, and your great uncle Cassawallan--well, he got a spear in the belly, and died like a dog.  It was your grandpa's mercenary work that made the money that our business is built on.  Now, to this day, I've kept the equipment he and his brother used for a rainy day, and now--"  He opens the chest.  "I'm giving it to you."


----------



## mps42 (Jul 21, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm seems to control his anger and frustration--but just barely.  "You wish to see our armies, Nibelung?  Very well!  Come with me, and I'll show them to you!  Then you can decide whether or not we're a force to challenge the Emperor!"




 "And just where is it that I'd be following ye *to*?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 21, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> "And just where is it that I'd be following ye *to*?"




Helm glares at the Nibelung.  "Our camp and headquarters.  See the army you have mocked for yourself!  Then, if it does not wake the fires of courage in your breast, you may return home, on my honor.  So, Nibelung, what say you?"

It occurs to Graeval that quite a few of the townspeople out in the square are glaring at him, and muttering things under their breath right now.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 21, 2005)

As Alan Hale sits there, soaking in the excitement of being--a soldier now, there is a creak.  "Alan,"  says a dark voice he knows very well by now.  Alan turns to see his father standing there, along with Bran.  

Madoc Hale stares calmly at his son, and cracks his knuckles.  "Well, lad, I heard ya'd gotten involved in foolishness, and now I see it for meself.  So, then, here's what yer going to do.  Ye're going to come back with me an' Bran, in the back of the cart.  Then, when ye're back, I'm gonna tan yer hide so that ya won't be able to lie down for a month--which means some a yer work stands a chance of actually gettin' done.  An' then, lad, we won't hear any more foolishness about joinin' any armies.  Am I understood?"

"Da's bein' real generous!" blurts out Bran.  "I was sayin' we should thump ya like ye're Arch's own hammer, right here, in the town square, but he wants ya to be sparred the embar--"

Madoc's huge tree trunk of an arm lashes out, knocking his oldest son off his feet.  "Shut up, Bran."  He turns to Alan.  "Well, Alan?  I don't see ya gettin' up."


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 22, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Cador coughs, and then heads upstairs for a moment, returning shortly thereafter with a large chest. "Son, since your mother and I have decided this was probably a good decision on your part, I guess I should mention this to you. You're not the first Nuttall to go to the Wars. Your grandfather Lucan, and his brother, Cassawallan, went off and fought with the Brothers against Gavaine the Cruel. They both did well, and wound up serving in Gaheris's Gallants, as they called the bunch, with honors. Afterwards, they fought in the Dyrush Uprising of 1458, where your grandfather made a mint, and your great uncle Cassawallan--well, he got a spear in the belly, and died like a dog. It was your grandpa's mercenary work that made the money that our business is built on. Now, to this day, I've kept the equipment he and his brother used for a rainy day, and now--" He opens the chest. "I'm giving it to you."




"Mother, Father, I'm glad you understand, and I thank you, not only for this, but for all you've given me. I promise to make you proud with it." He embraces them both.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 22, 2005)

Alan looks to his father, than to the soldiers....screwing up his courage, he says, "Father I am not coming with you.  You and your farm chores can be damned.  I am going to become a soldier and fight for freedom.  Nothing you say or do will makeme come back."

Seeing the shocked face of his father, starts to get to Alan, but than Alan's words break the silence, Alan brain is on autopilot, the words are streaming from his unconcious.  

"Father, you might be strong enough to take me home, but I will run away and join the army.  If you take me back again, I will run away again.  If you tie me up, I will untie myself.  I am joining with friends and acquientances and joining a just army today.  If I have to I will join an unjust army alone tomorrow.  No matter what I am joining an army."

Alan closes his eyes and spins to turn his back to his father.


----------



## mps42 (Jul 22, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm glares at the Nibelung.  "Our camp and headquarters.  See the army you have mocked for yourself!  Then, if it does not wake the fires of courage in your breast, you may return home, on my honor.  So, Nibelung, what say you?"
> 
> It occurs to Graeval that quite a few of the townspeople out in the square are glaring at him, and muttering things under their breath right now.




Suddenly realizing how much attention he's drawing, Graevel walks slowly to Helmand offers a calloused hand "a bargain fairly struck. I meant no disrespect."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 22, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Alan looks to his father, than to the soldiers....screwing up his courage, he says, "Father I am not coming with you.  You and your farm chores can be damned.  I am going to become a soldier and fight for freedom.  Nothing you say or do will makeme come back."
> 
> Seeing the shocked face of his father, starts to get to Alan, but than Alan's words break the silence, Alan brain is on autopilot, the words are streaming from his unconcious.
> 
> ...




"That so," say Madoc calmly.  He nods.  "Well, then.  Enjoy the army.  Oh, and by the way--don't ever come back to my house.  As of this moment, ye're not my son."  He shrugs.  "Figure I got enough to spare one."  He glances at Bran lying on the floor.  "C'mon, Bran.  Let's be on our way."   Bran whimpers and joins his father as Madoc Hale calmly walks out of the bar.

Bernlad glances at Alan sympathetically.  "Want another drink, lad?"


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 22, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> Suddenly realizing how much attention he's drawing, Graevel walks slowly to Helm and offers a calloused hand "a bargain fairly struck. I meant no disrespect."




Helm shakes the Nibelung's hand forcefully.  "See you tomorrow then,"  he notes.  "We'll bring a horse for you."


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 22, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "That so," say Madoc calmly.  He nods.  "Well, then.  Enjoy the army.  Oh, and by the way--don't ever come back to my house.  As of this moment, ye're not my son."  He shrugs.  "Figure I got enough to spare one."  He glances at Bran lying on the floor.  "C'mon, Bran.  Let's be on our way."   Bran whimpers and joins his father as Madoc Hale calmly walks out of the bar.
> 
> Bernlad glances at Alan sympathetically.  "Want another drink, lad?"





Alan nods yes, to emotional to trust his mouth with words.


----------



## mps42 (Jul 23, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm shakes the Nibelung's hand forcefully.  "See you tomorrow then,"  he notes.  "We'll bring a horse for you."




"Well," graevel says a little louder than really necessary, "Seems like I have some packing to do. As well as a few minor things to finish up at the forge."
 With that, he will head back to his small cottage and the nearby workshop to pack his things.


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 25, 2005)

Alan downs this mug much faster than anyone else at the table.  Infact, he is still downing it (doing the motions) when the cup has been emptied.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 25, 2005)

The next morning the four recruits--or rather the three recruits, and the Nibelung who's coming on what is essentially a dare--meet in front of _The Bearded Flea_ with the Syrans.  Helm glances at them.  "Now--we're going to be travelling east for several days.  I've had Ventruli buy some horses for you, so it won't be too hard, but I have to warn you--it will be a hard trip, into the Iron Mountains.  If you have any questions, please ask them now."


----------



## jkason (Jul 25, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> The next morning the four recruits--or rather the three recruits, and the Nibelung who's coming on what is essentially a dare--meet in front of _The Bearded Flea_ with the Syrans.  Helm glances at them.  "Now--we're going to be travelling east for several days.  I've had Ventruli buy some horses for you, so it won't be too hard, but I have to warn you--it will be a hard trip, into the Iron Mountains.  If you have any questions, please ask them now."




Weel speaks up, channeling his best foreman's voice.

"I don't know about the others, but for my part I'd rather start the journey sooner than later. I'm sure we've no end of curiousity, but I suspect we'll do better satisfying it by seeing and doing."

He swallows hard, thinking, _And the sooner we get going, the less time I have to second guess myself. A rebel army? This is how I'm going to keep myself out of harm's way?_


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 25, 2005)

What else will we be given?  What should we do when we come across trouble?


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 26, 2005)

"Right now, we don't have anything to arm you with.  You might consider asking your friend there--he seems to have turned up some stuff.  Otherwise you'll have to make due with what we give you in camp.  As for an emergency--well, we'll tell you what to do when that happens, and not before."  Helm turns around.  "Let's move."   And with that, they ride out of Poins, into the East...


----------



## Ranger Rick (Jul 26, 2005)

Alan absently shrugs than rides off with a huge stupid grin on his face.


----------



## jkason (Jul 26, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Right now, we don't have anything to arm you with.  You might consider asking your friend there--he seems to have turned up some stuff.  Otherwise you'll have to make due with what we give you in camp.  As for an emergency--well, we'll tell you what to do when that happens, and not before."  Helm turns around.  "Let's move."   And with that, they ride out of Poins, into the East...




Weel keeps his eyes and ears open, but generally remains quiet as the group sets off, trying to get a better sense of both recruits and recruiters through observation than active prying. The last thing he wants is to have someone returning the pry.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 27, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Right now, we don't have anything to arm you with. You might consider asking your friend there--he seems to have turned up some stuff. Otherwise you'll have to make due with what we give you in camp. As for an emergency--well, we'll tell you what to do when that happens, and not before." Helm turns around. "Let's move." And with that, they ride out of Poins, into the East...




*OOC: I suppose I should ask what exactly was in that chest *

Caradoc spurs his horse onward, feeling as though a great weight has been lifted from his chest with his newly granted freedom.


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 27, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> *OOC: I suppose I should ask what exactly was in that chest *
> 
> Caradoc spurs his horse onward, feeling as though a great weight has been lifted from his chest with his newly granted freedom.




OOC: Two sets of studded leather armor, two small metal shields, two longswords (masterwork quality), two halfspears.

The group's first two days of travel are largely uneventful.  They pass through the hills and mountains, share breakfast, dinner, and the occasional, infrequent conversation.  Helm and his men, while friendly, are slightly standoffish, though they are no match for Ventruli, who avoids interacting with anyone if he can help it.  The recruits get to know each other, though nervousness does mark their interactions.

On the third day, the group wakes to a dreary rain.  Helm and Bernlad seem to be in a rather anxious conversation with Ventruli, though it's hard to make anything out.


----------



## jkason (Jul 27, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> On the third day, the group wakes to a dreary rain.  Helm and Bernlad seem to be in a rather anxious conversation with Ventruli, though it's hard to make anything out.




_Sounds like I'm not the only one around here with secrets to keep,_ Weel thinks as he wakes to the bad weather and sounds of quieted arguing. He decides a better idea of his new supervisors' secrets might give him a clue as to how they might deal with his own.

Weel stretches and yawns and tries to find some chore or another a little nearer to the discussion: checking his horse's rigging, stoking the fire, digging up rations. Anything that might get him in earshot but allow him to seem too pre-occupied to be eavesdroppping. Of course, eavesdropping is exactly his intent.

_[OOC: Weel's *Listen* is +5. As this probably also involves a *Bluff* check of some kind (he's trying to pretend he's doing something else), Weel's check there is only the untrained +0. He and I are mostly hoping the intensity of the conversation mitigates Weel's lack of skill at dissembling]_


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 27, 2005)

With a feigned nonchalance, Weel listens to the trio's converstation.

[sblock]"--bout this?" asks Helm anxiously.

"Certain,"  says Ventruli with detached calm.  "Proudwind has seen the same crow ever since we entered the mountains.  We are being watched..."

"And no idea by who," mutters Helm.

"Oh, I have some idea," says Bernlad.  "Still--the field is broad."

Helm nods.  "We best be on our guard."

"Should I alert the recruits, sir?" asks Bernlad casually.

"No," replies Helm.  "It would only panic them."[/sblock]


----------



## mps42 (Jul 27, 2005)

Graevel keeps his own company in a sullen silence during the first day, angry for having outsmarted himself.
 The second is not much better but will engage in light conversation if approached.
 The third day, however, being rainy and gray, he is back to his grouchy self. In a move surprising even to himself, he approaches Helm "You... Umm, Helm was it? Yar, I thought so. I be wondering if there was something I could do. This riding is boring and, to be honest, neither me horse nor meself is really to happy about it. An' with the rain an all, I needs somethin to take me mind off the road."


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 27, 2005)

Helm looks at the Nibelung a moment, then smirks.  "Certainly."  He pulls a roll of rope out of his bag, and throws it at him.  "Here you go.  Now, I want you to tie knots in this rope.  About--oh, 130 of them.  Yes, that sounds sufficient.  130 knots.  When you're done, I'll find something else for you to do."  And then with a chuckle, he turns away.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Jul 27, 2005)

Caradoc, not wanting to make the soldiers feel nervous by creating more activity than necessary around the camp, tries to listen in from his sleeping spot (listen +6).

_Hm. I must remember to offer the other volunteers some of Grandpa's old gear. Oghma knows I don't exactly have the strongest sword-arm in the world. I suppose I could handle the armor, so long as we're not marching, at least._


----------



## Rhialto (Jul 27, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc, not wanting to make the soldiers feel nervous by creating more activity than necessary around the camp, tries to listen in from his sleeping spot (listen +6).
> 
> _Hm. I must remember to offer the other volunteers some of Grandpa's old gear. Oghma knows I don't exactly have the strongest sword-arm in the world. I suppose I could handle the armor, so long as we're not marching, at least._




Caradoc fails to pick up what they're saying.


----------



## jkason (Jul 27, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> With a feigned nonchalance, Weel listens to the trio's converstation.
> 
> [sblock]"--bout this?" asks Helm anxiously.
> 
> ...





Weel considers what he's heard while breaking fast. At least this secret seems relatively benign. If he's going to start trying secrets out on people (and he's always known he'd have to eventually), might as well start with someone else's before he chooses to expose his own. But whom?

He dismisses Helm and his men as an obvious mistake. If he means to gain their trust, it would be stupid to admit to them he was snooping. 

While Weel might have an easier time having a private conversation by using Nibelungen, there's no guarantee he's the only human here who can speak it. And Graevel's not exactly a fully-willing participant in this enterprise, to hear folks tell it. Knowing there's a possible resistence already could be all he needs to storm off, which might not be the healthiest of choices.

Alan, intimidatingly large as he is, strikes Weel as a little starstruck by the whole experience. While the farmer's son hardly seems the type to run, Weel expects Helm wouldn't be amenable if the exuberant boy decided, say, that he was going to charge into the woods to find the crow and its masters all on his own.

That leaves Caradoc. Well, he seems to have a cool head, and being a merchant's son is more likely to give him insights into people (namely, their companions) than Weel's more mechanical training.

Weel finishes his morning meal, then, determined to try to find a way to engage Caradoc in a private conversation, divulging his overheard information if he gets the chance.


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 28, 2005)

_Well, rise and shine_.

Caradoc crawls from his bedroll, stretches, and begins digging pieces of armor out of his backpack, methodically figuring out where each piece fits before strapping it on. _Might as well get a feel for this sooner, rather than later_. Finally, he picks up one of the swords and, surprised at how light it is, decides he might be able to use it. _A bit heavier than the foils we used in the university's martial arts class, but not so different_. He makes a few tentative thrusts in the air before deciding it would be better suited for a slashing attack.

Finally, feeling well-armed if somewhat bulky, he heads off to find some breakfast and offer the remaining gear to the other new recruits.


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 28, 2005)

OOC: "...the exuberant boy decided, say, that he was going to charge into the woods to find the crow and its masters all on his own."  That is very astute observation.  I would figure out how to cpture the crow.



At the morning meal, Alan sees Caradoc.  "Morning, isn't today just grand?  I mean the weather is not the best, but take a breath.  Taste the freedom.  God this trip has been so wonderful!  I can not wait until we become fully outfitted soldiers.  Remember those make believe sword fights we had in my dad's barn?  I can not wait until we do that for real.  Golly it will be so wonderful. ....Oh my gosh Caradoc, where did you get that weapon?  Are they handing them out?  Damn, I never heard the call to line up for equipment.  Where do I go to get some more, please tell me where do I go?"


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 28, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> OOC: "...the exuberant boy decided, say, that he was going to charge into the woods to find the crow and its masters all on his own." That is very astute observation. I would figure out how to cpture the crow.
> 
> 
> 
> At the morning meal, Alan sees Caradoc. "Morning, isn't today just grand? I mean the weather is not the best, but take a breath. Taste the freedom. God this trip has been so wonderful! I can not wait until we become fully outfitted soldiers. Remember those make believe sword fights we had in my dad's barn? I can not wait until we do that for real. Golly it will be so wonderful. ....Oh my gosh Caradoc, where did you get that weapon? Are they handing them out? Damn, I never heard the call to line up for equipment. Where do I go to get some more, please tell me where do I go?"




Caradoc smiles at Alan, three years younger but nearly a foot taller and twice as heavy as he. _He could hold his own in a fight, but I wonder if he really knows what he's gotten himself into. Hell, do any of us?_ he wonders.

"Good morning, Alan. Don't worry, you haven't missed anything. Before I left home, my parents gave me my grandfather's old military gear. There's another suit of armor, a sword, and a couple spears and shields left. You and the others are welcome to anything you can use, it's all over there by my backpack. I must admit, I don't have much experience with arms and armor; I feel like I'm wearing a wool robe that's been soaked in a river...


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## Rhialto (Jul 28, 2005)

Origen walks up to the pair.  "You better get ready.  Helm wants us to move soon."


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 28, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Origen walks up to the pair. "You better get ready. Helm wants us to move soon."




"Alright," Caradoc nods. Turning back to Alan, he says "well, I suppose the four of us will meet up again shortly before setting out; I'll leave the equipment unpacked so you three can decide who can use what then."


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## Ranger Rick (Jul 28, 2005)

"Your grandfather's?  Why you....when....Wow that is so cool.  I will tresure it like it is my own blood relative.  Thank you so much I am forever in your debt."

After seeing the gear.  "Wow, why did you get two sets?  Oh well thank you very much this is just to great.  I feel like a real warrior now.  Any old blood still visible?"

OOC: I am gone until Monday and I have no time to apply to my sheet.  I will do this on Monday.  I will grab a studded leather armor, a longswords (masterwork quality), a halfspears


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 29, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> "Your grandfather's? Why you....when....Wow that is so cool. I will tresure it like it is my own blood relative. Thank you so much I am forever in your debt."
> 
> After seeing the gear. "Wow, why did you get two sets? Oh well thank you very much this is just to great. I feel like a real warrior now. Any old blood still visible?"




"Ah, well, technically this is the collective gear of both my grandfather and his brother. It's just that his brother... retired somewhat sooner," Caradoc explains, then suddenly becomes silent and gets a faraway look in his eyes. It occurs to him for the first time that a man, his own blood relative, died wielding one of these swords, possibly wearing the armor he has donned.


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## jkason (Jul 29, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> "Alright," Caradoc nods. Turning back to Alan, he says "well, I suppose the four of us will meet up again shortly before setting out; I'll leave the equipment unpacked so you three can decide who can use what then."




As their companions gear up, Weel moves to speak with Caradoc.

"You're a generous one, Caradoc," he says. "Since I seem to have come to the group fairly well-equipped, I think I'll leave the gear to Alan and Graevel. But, while they're equipping themselves, I wondered if I might ... a word? In private?"

_[OOC: If Caradoc agrees to move the discussion out of obvious earshot, Weel relates what he overheard from Helm and his men about the crow indicating an unseen follower]_


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 29, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> As their companions gear up, Weel moves to speak with Caradoc.
> 
> "You're a generous one, Caradoc," he says. "Since I seem to have come to the group fairly well-equipped, I think I'll leave the gear to Alan and Graevel. But, while they're equipping themselves, I wondered if I might ... a word? In private?"
> 
> _[OOC: If Caradoc agrees to move the discussion out of obvious earshot, Weel relates what he overheard from Helm and his men about the crow indicating an unseen follower]_




"Certainly, Weel." Caradoc follows Weel, and listens to the information he's gathered. 

Weel:[sblock]"I see. Well, I think that whatever action we take should involve the cooperation of as many recruits as possible. Splitting up could result in confusion or mistrust later on, and if we encounter an enemy, we would be well advised to have a significant force. I think we should discuss this with the others, though, for my part, I can't imagine much success in trying to capture a bird."[/sblock]


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## Rhialto (Jul 29, 2005)

Bernlad walks back.  "All right, lads.  Hop to it.  We've got to get travellin' now!  We're two days from camp, with all the wine, women, and wine that ye could possibly want!"  He then joins the other soldiers and mounts his horse.


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## jkason (Jul 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Bernlad walks back.  "All right, lads.  Hop to it.  We've got to get travellin' now!  We're two days from camp, with all the wine, women, and wine that ye could possibly want!"  He then joins the other soldiers and mounts his horse.




Weel considers Caradoc's advice for a moment, then when Bernlad interrupts, makes a quick decision.

[sblock]"Good points, Caradoc. We'll have to tell the others on the road, though, by the look of it. You see about Alan (he'll hopefully listen to you on the matter of restraint), and I'll try to pass the message to Graevel."[/sblock]

With that, Weel nods to Caradoc and goes to mount his own horse, looking for a moment on the trail where he can pull up beside their Nibelung companion and pass the news surreptitiously.


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## Bloodcookie (Jul 29, 2005)

Caradoc secures his belongings, and leads his horse over to Alan. In a lowered voice, he explains that their contingent is apparently being observed by someone via a crow. "Weel is filling-in Graevel on the situation, and the officers already know. Weel and I think it would be wisest to remain with the rest of the troops for now, as we really have no means of apprehending something that can both fly and see us coming miles away."

*OOC: Looks like I'm going to be off-line until Thursday*


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## mps42 (Jul 31, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helm looks at the Nibelung a moment, then smirks.  "Certainly."  He pulls a roll of rope out of his bag, and throws it at him.  "Here you go.  Now, I want you to tie knots in this rope.  About--oh, 130 of them.  Yes, that sounds sufficient.  130 knots.  When you're done, I'll find something else for you to do."  And then with a chuckle, he turns away.




 Quite certain that he's being ridiculed, Graevel stalks off to his pony avoiding any other contact.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 1, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> Caradoc secures his belongings, and leads his horse over to Alan. In a lowered voice, he explains that their contingent is apparently being observed by someone via a crow. "Weel is filling-in Graevel on the situation, and the officers already know. Weel and I think it would be wisest to remain with the rest of the troops for now, as we really have no means of apprehending something that can both fly and see us coming miles away."
> 
> *OOC: Looks like I'm going to be off-line until Thursday*




Alan touches the side of his nose with is index finger.  Than he takes his left hand and balling it into a fist he bangs it onto his newly armored chest.  (like a gorilla).  "I agree we shall move as one."

Alan than starts to scan the sky trying to find this crow.  Every bird he sees he wonders if that is a spy.  He starts to lose his grin and get a serious stare as he realizes how many crows could be the 'one'.


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## jkason (Aug 1, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> Quite certain that he's being ridiculed, Graevel stalks off to his pony avoiding any other contact.




Though he sees Graevel is in poor spirits once again, Weel trots his horse around to him as the party prepares to leave. In as nonchalant a voice as he can manage, and trying not to let it carry, Weel relates his news in Nibelungen:

"Though you clearly wish to keep your own company, Graevel, I thought ... Caradoc and I were discussing it, and we thought you should know: we've come to learn our recruiters have discovered someone following us, using a crow as their eyes. We think it best not to act until we're officially told, but forewarned and forearmed and all that."


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## Rhialto (Aug 1, 2005)

After five hours riding, a sudden storm bombards the travellers.  The sleet that falls is so heavy, it is impossible for a person to see more than a few feet in front of their face.  "Keep still, everyone!  Keep still!"  states Helm.  

"Sir!  I think I see someone up ahead! I'll--" comes Kaspar's voice, followed by the braying of a terrified horse, and the screams of a falling man.  A sickening thud reaches their ears.

"Everyone keeps still," comes Bernlad's voice.  "That way, we live."


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 1, 2005)

Alan's adreline is climbing.  He is getting fidgety and touching everything he owns, as he squints through the sleet.  His cold body getting warm as time for a massive battle draws near.


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## jkason (Aug 1, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> After five hours riding, a sudden storm bombards the travellers.  The sleet that falls is so heavy, it is impossible for a person to see more than a few feet in front of their face.  "Keep still, everyone!  Keep still!"  states Helm.
> 
> "Sir!  I think I see someone up ahead! I'll--" comes Kaspar's voice, followed by the braying of a terrified horse, and the screams of a falling man.  A sickening thud reaches their ears.
> 
> "Everyone keeps still," comes Bernlad's voice.  "That way, we live."




Weel, getting quite used to hearing "keep your head down" advice lately, does just that. He reins in his horse and hunkers down in the saddle, not daring to move or speak until he hears something else from the group's leaders.


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## Rhialto (Aug 2, 2005)

After roughly half a minute, the sleet storm ends.  When it is done, the ice melts, almost instantly.  Bernlad gestures ahead.  A group of Hill Goblins stand ahead in the trail, a Mountain Goblin wearing red and grey robes behind them.  "There's the bastards who done in Kaspar!" he shouts.  "Let's get them!" 

Helm nods, and then glances at the recruits.  "You stay here.  Origen will stay here with you, to help in case there are any sneak attacks."  With that, Helm, Ventruli, and Bernlad charge ahead.  

As they close on the goblins, a cascade of boulders fall off the mountain, neatly seperating them from you.


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## jkason (Aug 2, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> After roughly half a minute, the sleet storm ends.  When it is done, the ice melts, almost instantly.  Bernlad gestures ahead.  A group of Hill Goblins stand ahead in the trail, a Mountain Goblin wearing red and grey robes behind them.  "There's the bastards who done in Kaspar!" he shouts.  "Let's get them!"
> 
> Helm nods, and then glances at the recruits.  "You stay here.  Origen will stay here with you, to help in case there are any sneak attacks."  With that, Helm, Ventruli, and Bernlad charge ahead.
> 
> As they close on the goblins, a cascade of boulders fall off the mountain, neatly seperating them from you.




Weel leaves his quarterstaff on his back and chooses to take up the mace Phandros gifted him with instead.

"Right then," he mutters with a mixture of exhaustion and sarcasm, "wouldn't want a whole week to go by without some new calamity hopping out, now would we?"

He turns to Origen, gesturing toward the boulders as he says, "I've little experience in these sorts of things, but would it be useful to put the natural wall at our backs?"


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## Rhialto (Aug 2, 2005)

Origen nods.  "That's about right.  And keep your wits about you--an ambush can strike you from any--"

At that moment, a burning bolt smashes into his chest, tearing his ribcage to bits, and burning much of his body.  Origen falls off his saddle, dead.  A sickly smell of roasted meat wafts through the air.  

Turning around the group sees another Mountain Goblin clad in robes much like the first, twirling a greatsword around.  "Surrender, valleyfolk--surrender or die!"  he says in crowing voice like that of a scavenger bird.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 2, 2005)

Upon seeing the goblins emerge from the gloom, Alan's heart races.  The adreline starts coursing through the young boy's veins.  When the rock wall emerges, he quickly scans around him, thinking of the words "sneak attack".  Alan sees Origen fall, and than quickly yelling "AIEEEEEE" he kicks his toes into his mount, gallops and charges toward the goblin.  Grabbing his half spear he throws it at the goblin, than he dismounts (tumbles) off the mount and attacks with the longsword.


OOC: I assume the goblin is alone.
Init +3
spot +5
Ride +3
tumble +7/Jump +6
AC 17
+1 halfspear (1d6+1 x2 20 ft.)
+2 MW longsword (1d8+1 19–20/x2)


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## jkason (Aug 2, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> Upon seeing the goblins emerge from the gloom, Alan's heart races.  The adreline starts coursing through the young boy's veins.  When the rock wall emerges, he quickly scans around him, thinking of the words "sneak attack".  Alan sees Origen fall, and than quickly yelling "AIEEEEEE" he kicks his toes into his mount, gallops and charges toward the goblin.  Grabbing his half spear he throws it at the goblin, than he dismounts (tumbles) off the mount and attacks with the longsword.
> 
> 
> OOC: I assume the goblin is alone.
> ...





_This oversized boy is going to be the death of me,_ Weel thinks as Alan charges. _But I might as well try to give us a fighting chance. Pray Thraunos is doling out luck._

From his mount, Weel locks his focus on the robed goblin. A short algorithm later, Weel sends forth his power in a single *Command*: "Drop it."

_[OOC: Will save to negate vs. DC 14 (10 +1 level +3 Wis).  If he fails, the gob has to drop anything he's holding, including that nasty looking greatsword.

Init: +0

After that, Weel's holding / readying an action: If the Goblin tries to cast a spell, Weel will cast *Create Water* over its head. I figure 2 gallons of solid water landing on you unexpectedly is good for at least a Concentration check to lose the spell. If I read the Concentration rules right, it'd be DC 13 (10 +0 level +3 Wis) plus whatever level spell he's casting.]_


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## Rhialto (Aug 2, 2005)

Initiative:
Alan = 22
Caradoc = 13
Graevel = 11
Weel, Goblin = 10

1st round

Alan rushes forward, tossing his halfspear at the goblin.  However, the throw goes wild, missing the goblin completely, and bouncing off the nearby mountainside to fall into the chasm.  (Ranged attack roll of 8, 71 for destruction of missle.)

Now, it is up to Caradoc...


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 2, 2005)

OOC: Post 123 - caradoc is off till Thursday.  FYI I will be offline Friday - Monday.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 5, 2005)

Unsure whether the goblin's spells or swordsmanship pose a greater threat, Caradoc attempts to take both out of the equation by afflicting it with a *Daze *spell. As soon as possible thereafter (next round), having witnessed Alan's faltering attack, he will begin to hold forth on the similarities between their current predicament and the travails of the epic heroes of yore, reminding the party of the value of emulating the virtues of such great figures (i.e. using *Inspire Courage +1*), and closing distance with the goblin, preparing to attack.


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## mps42 (Aug 5, 2005)

Surly, Graevel Nods briefly at Weel, no more than acknowledging his existance, and stomps back to his equally surly horse.
 As the sleet starts He begins to get off his horse and crawl under it when Helm directs them to stay put and not move. _So we should just sit here and get wet, then..._ he thinks quietly to himself. _I guess Height is no indicator of intelligence._
 As the sleet melts, he looks around warily. _This is no natural storm_, he thinks quietly and quickly grabs his small shield and sword, getting them near but not yet arming.
 As the situation escalates, Graevel will ignore Helms' order and climb off of his horse and attempt to either ground-hitch the beast or stand on its' reins to keep the horse behind him.
 With the death of Origen, he will pull his shield and sword off the horse and, if there is time, shrug into his leather armor. If not he will make due with the blacksmiths apron (better than nothing).
 Graevel looks witheringly at the back of alan and stays his ground, prefering to make his enemies come to him.

OOC: Refocus and take any attacks of opportunity that arise. Fighting to cripple, not quick-kill or Subdue (eg: Achilles tendons, hamstring, etc.)


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## Rhialto (Aug 5, 2005)

As the battle continues, Caradoc chants a charm to befuddle the goblin wizard--that has, alas, no effect.  Graevel quickly slides into his armor, and then readies his weapons.  Weel chants his command--but the Goblin merely shakes his head, then gestures at Alan.  A cone of dazzling color bursts from his fingertips engulfing Alan and his horse.  The horse winnies in fear, while Alan just barely manages to keep himself from subcomming to the spinning colors.

Alan gracefully leaps from his horse, and then strides towards the goblin, striking at him with his sword.  The goblin nimbly dodges his blow.  Alan notes, oddly, that the goblin's eyes have been elaborately painted purple.  Caradoc cautiously approaches his foe, calling on his allies to rally as would the mighty heroes of yore.  Graevel stands back, as if waiting for a chance to strike.  As Weel readies a spell, the goblin grasps his blade and strikes at Alan--a hit!  With one doughty blow, the goblin strikes the young farmer hard in the belly, sending him toppling to the ground.  (9 pts of damage.  Alan is now unconscious at -1 hp).


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## jkason (Aug 5, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> As the battle continues, Caradoc chants a charm to befuddle the goblin wizard--that has, alas, no effect.  Graevel quickly slides into his armor, and then readies his weapons.  Weel chants his command--but the Goblin merely shakes his head, then gestures at Alan.  A cone of dazzling color bursts from his fingertips engulfing Alan and his horse.  The horse winnies in fear, while Alan just barely manages to keep himself from subcomming to the spinning colors.
> 
> Alan gracefully leaps from his horse, and then strides towards the goblin, striking at him with his sword.  The goblin nimbly dodges his blow.  Alan notes, oddly, that the goblin's eyes have been elaborately painted purple.  Caradoc cautiously approaches his foe, calling on his allies to rally as would the mighty heroes of yore.  Graevel stands back, as if waiting for a chance to strike.  As Weel readies a spell, the goblin grasps his blade and strikes at Alan--a hit!  With one doughty blow, the goblin strikes the young farmer hard in the belly, sending him toppling to the ground.  (9 pts of damage.  Alan is now unconscious at -1 hp).




_Of course it's always the thing I'm not prepared for,_Weel thinks darkly as Alan falls. With Caradoc closing on the Goblin, it's clear this fight is going to be more intimate than the cleric hoped.

Feuled by frustration and the sudden burst of energy Caradoc's recitation seems to have engendered, Weel grits his teeth, leaps off his horse and hurries to attack the goblin from the side opposite Caradoc, hoping to split its focus.

_[OOC: Double move this turn: move action to dismount, move to try to flank the Goblin--assuming it's possible to do without provoking an AOO. If not, then just move to attack position. Then next round, it's a hopefully-mighty mace swing. Combat stats:

Attack: +4, +6 if flank works 
Damage: 1d6 +3 (+2 Str, +1 inspired)
AC: 13]_


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 5, 2005)

Caradoc continues closing in on the goblin, attempting to come at it from the side opposite Weel, striking at it with his sword once in range.


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## mps42 (Aug 6, 2005)

_ Maerd..._ Graevel mutters to himself. _Doesnt look like I have a choice._
 He will beging approaching the gob from one side, trying to flank it with Caradoc and keeping a wary eye out for others.

OOC: Map? Even a quick-N-dirty one would be helpfull.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 8, 2005)

OOC:.....drip...drip flows the blood.


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## Rhialto (Aug 8, 2005)

OOC:  Okay, I don't have a map scanned, but I can give you the general layout of the area.

The place you stopped is twenty feat across.  The place where the goblin stands is fifty across--he is located in the middle.  Your starting point is sixty feet from the goblin.  Thus, assuming you started moving last round, all of you will come upon it this round.


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## jkason (Aug 9, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> OOC:  Okay, I don't have a map scanned, but I can give you the general layout of the area.
> 
> The place you stopped is twenty feat across.  The place where the goblin stands is fifty across--he is located in the middle.  Your starting point is sixty feet from the goblin.  Thus, assuming you started moving last round, all of you will come upon it this round.




_[OOC: I believe we all declared our attack actions, yes? Are we missing anything we need to declare for the next attack round?]_


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## Rhialto (Aug 9, 2005)

OOC:  I was just setting it up...  

Alan bleeds some more.  (-2 hp)

Caradoc rushes forward and strikes at the goblin.  With a lucky strike, he skewers the wizard through with his blade. (20 +2/19+2=Crit.  13 points of damage.)

Graevel manages to join him striking at the goblin.  His blow is true, and stabs through the wizard's chest.  (16 +4 = 20, 7 dmg) 

The wizard strikes at the Nibelung with his sword, but Graevel's armor and hard skin manage to ward off the blow.

Weel weaves around and strikes at the goblin from behind, smashing him on the back of the head.  (19 +6= 25, 5 dmg)


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## jkason (Aug 9, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> OOC:  I was just setting it up...
> 
> Weel weaves around and strikes at the goblin from behind, smashing him on the back of the head.  (19 +6= 25, 5 dmg)




_[OOC: Oops.  Sorry for the impatience.]_

Weel plants his feet and swings again, hoping Alan can hold on just a little longer, and that none of the rest of the recruits join him.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 9, 2005)

Somewhat unnerved at having actually _impaled_ another intelligent creature, Caradoc grits his teeth and swings again.


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## Rhialto (Aug 11, 2005)

Alan bleeds some more. (-3)

Caradoc makes a quick swing at the bleeding wizard that strikes him on the head.  The goblin glares at the bard as blood streaks down his face.  (17 + 2= 19, 5 dmg)

Graevel stabs forward at him, impaling the magician in the stomach.  (16 + 4 = 20, 7 dmg)  The wizard collapses with a groan.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 11, 2005)

gurgle gurgle as I start to drown in my blood.


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## jkason (Aug 11, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Alan bleeds some more. (-3)
> 
> Caradoc makes a quick swing at the bleeding wizard that strikes him on the head.  The goblin glares at the bard as blood streaks down his face.  (17 + 2= 19, 5 dmg)
> 
> Graevel stabs forward at him, impaling the magician in the stomach.  (16 + 4 = 20, 7 dmg)  The wizard collapses with a groan.




"Make sure that thing stays down. I've got Alan." Weel says gravely to the others. He doesn't wait to see how they interpret that, but rushes to Alan's side. He lays his hands on the bloody wound and spouts a simple formula of addition and multiplication, hoping he's not too late.

_[OOC: convert *Entropic Shield* into a spontaneous cast *Cure Light Wounds*: heal 1d8+1 points on Alan]_


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## Rhialto (Aug 11, 2005)

A glowing light emanates from Weel's hand, flowing through Alan's body.  His wounds knit together and his color returns, though he still badly battered.  (7 hp healed, -3 Hp = 4 hp)

Alan eyes flicker open and he regains consciousness.

The goblin groans and continues to bleed.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 11, 2005)

"Oooh.  Groan.  What What happened? what? Oh my gosh Origen, he was shreded, and now me.  Damn, war is not as fun as I thought.  Damn my belly is going to have one hell of a scar."


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## jkason (Aug 11, 2005)

Ranger Rick said:
			
		

> "Oooh.  Groan.  What What happened? what? Oh my gosh Origen, he was shreded, and now me.  Damn, war is not as fun as I thought.  Damn my belly is going to have one hell of a scar."




Weel stands up with a sigh of relief and a slight smile. As he offers his hand to help Alan to his feet, he says "Scars mean you lived through it, which is the important part."

He turns his attention to include the others and uses his mace to point at the goblin struggling toward death on the ground. "The question now is whether we let this one live. I can stabilize him if we decide to take him prisoner, though we'll need rope and a gag. Or we can turn him over to the crows." 

Weel nods in the direction of Origen's charred remains. "Given the damage he's caused, I'm inclined to think the latter is the safest course, but I'm willing to follow the concensus."


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 11, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel stands up with a sigh of relief and a slight smile. As he offers his hand to help Alan to his feet, he says "Scars mean you lived through it, which is the important part."
> 
> He turns his attention to include the others and uses his mace to point at the goblin struggling toward death on the ground. "The question now is whether we let this one live. I can stabilize him if we decide to take him prisoner, though we'll need rope and a gag. Or we can turn him over to the crows."
> 
> Weel nods in the direction of Origen's charred remains. "Given the damage he's caused, I'm inclined to think the latter is the safest course, but I'm willing to follow the concensus."




"Well, let's see... we don't know how the others have fared," he says, gesturing toward the avalanche, "and we don't know how many more goblins might be about. A hostage might be useful... but then, I don't know enough of their values to say for certain."


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## Rhialto (Aug 11, 2005)

As you are talking, Ventruli floats over the collasped ridge of stone.  He glances at the recruits with a sort detached calm.  "You all right?" he asks in a monotone.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 11, 2005)

Instinctively Alan answers, "Yes Sir, i mean no sir.  Origen is d...d...d...dead and the other have captured this purple eyed fiend....I tried to but my belly had other ideas.  I learned that they do not work well as shields."


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## Rhialto (Aug 11, 2005)

While you are talking, the purple-eyed goblin gives a thin gasp, then dies.


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## jkason (Aug 11, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> While you are talking, the purple-eyed goblin gives a thin gasp, then dies.




"Guess that solves that dilemma," Weel mumbles as their opponent passes on. He knows they'll probably need to search the body, but not until he knows they're all safe. Weel turns his attention to Ventruli. "What about you? Can I assume your battle's gone well if you've the time to come check on us?"


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## Rhialto (Aug 11, 2005)

A slight smile touches Ventruli's lips.  "The beastlike rabble were unprepared for our glory.  We tore through them as fire through dry wood."   With that he flutters down to the ground, and stares at the collapsed barrier.  "Crude, but effective."  He gestures at it.  As you watch, the stones are hurled off the mountain road, clearing it.  "There.  You may proceed."   With that he calmly strides away.  Glancing past him, the recruits see bodies of slaughtered goblins.


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## jkason (Aug 11, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> A slight smile touches Ventruli's lips.  "The beastlike rabble were unprepared for our glory.  We tore through them as fire through dry wood."   With that he flutters down to the ground, and stares at the collapsed barrier.  "Crude, but effective."  He gestures at it.  As you watch, the stones are hurled off the mountain road, clearing it.  "There.  You may proceed."   With that he calmly strides away.  Glancing past him, the recruits see bodies of slaughtered goblins.




Weel's throat suddenly goes dry at Ventruli's casual dismissal of the rockslide and the sight of the carnage on the other side. 

_Only sign a contract if you'll live up to its terms_ he reminds himself. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. _You signed on to be a soldier. This is what soldiers do. This, and what you've been avoiding._

Weel opens his eyes, sets his shoulders, and with obvious distaste kneels down to search the body of the goblin wizard. Once he's done, he returns to his mount and rejoins Ventruli, Helm, and whoever else survived the goblin ambush on the other side of the now-parted rock wall.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 11, 2005)

Seeing the reality of war, majkes Alan's hands go to his mid section, as he fights to keep the bille inside.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 12, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> A slight smile touches Ventruli's lips. "The beastlike rabble were unprepared for our glory. We tore through them as fire through dry wood." With that he flutters down to the ground, and stares at the collapsed barrier. "Crude, but effective." He gestures at it. As you watch, the stones are hurled off the mountain road, clearing it. "There. You may proceed." With that he calmly strides away. Glancing past him, the recruits see bodies of slaughtered goblins.




_Wonder if I'll ever get so used to all of this._ Caradoc takes a deep breath and stalks back toward his horse.


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## mps42 (Aug 12, 2005)

For no reason other than pure, unadulterated spite, Graevel will wait off to the side till the body has been looted then stalk over, compose the body in a calm repose, then bash it's skull in.
 He says "need to make sure it'll stay dead" to anyone who gives him any grief. That done, Gaevel will head back to his unhappy horse, mount up and try to catch up with Ventruli.


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## Rhialto (Aug 12, 2005)

Aside from the greatsword--which looks to be of high quality, the goblin has on him a thin wand tipped with a bit of red quartz, a golden ring, a fine cloak with a silver border, and four bottles filled with a thin liquid the color of cherries.


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## jkason (Aug 12, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Aside from the greatsword--which looks to be of high quality, the goblin has on him a thin wand tipped with a bit of red quartz, a golden ring, a fine cloak with a silver border, and four bottles filled with a thin liquid the color of cherries.




Weel straps the greatsword to his horse and adds the other items to his saddlebags, then leads the beast over to the recovering army. Zeroing in on Ventruli, Weel catalogs his findings, ending with "I've no skill in identifying magics, so I thought it best if you looked at the items to glean their purposes and make sure they were safe."


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 15, 2005)

Alan, grimaces, as the skull is bashed in.  The liquid sounds and the crunch of bone gives him a slight shutter.  He than stands by dumbly as he sees Weel loot the body.  "I never thought of that.  War is not what I imagined."


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## Rhialto (Aug 15, 2005)

Ventruli shows no emotion whatsoever, but merely takes the good and stares at them.  A slight breeze causes the bandana that covers his hair and forehead to ripple slightly.  After a moment, Ventruli looks up.  "The sword is but a sword, albeit a fine one.  The cloak, the ring, the wand and the potions are all magical, though all of rather minor potence.  If you give me a few days I can give specifics," notes the Rus in the same casual monotone.

Bernlad approaches Alan and Caradoc.  "Ahh!  Lads!  You made it! A Falcon blessed day!  Now, where's Origen?"


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## jkason (Aug 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Ventruli shows no emotion whatsoever, but merely takes the good and stares at them.  A slight breeze causes the bandana that covers his hair and forehead to ripple slightly.  After a moment, Ventruli looks up.  "The sword is but a sword, albeit a fine one.  The cloak, the ring, the wand and the potions are all magical, though all of rather minor potence.  If you give me a few days I can give specifics," notes the Rus in the same casual monotone.




Weel retrieves the sword and leaves the other items with the Rus. Nodding his head in respect, he says, "I'll leave them in your care, then, Master Ventruli. Many thanks." 



> Bernlad approaches Alan and Caradoc.  "Ahh!  Lads!  You made it! A Falcon blessed day!  Now, where's Origen?"




Weel swallows hard, then locks eyes with Bernlad to deliver the news: "One of the goblin mages ambushed us. Origen fell before any of us could act."


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## Rhialto (Aug 15, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel swallows hard, then locks eyes with Bernlad to deliver the news: "One of the goblin mages ambushed us. Origen fell before any of us could act."




Bernlad frowns slightly, and shuts his eyes.  "I've led good men to their deaths," he mutters, then glances at Weel.  "Ah, well, lad, ye did yer best.  Ye all got the bugger who did it, an' that's all they can ask for."

Helm looks at Bernlad.  "We should raise a cairn for our comra--"

Bernlad shakes his head.  " 'Tis yer decision, sir, but I think Origen and Kaspar would prefer to be remembered in men, not in stones.  I say we ride."

Helm nods, and gets to his horse.  He glances at the recruits.  "One of you see to Ritter Origen's horse.  We move now."


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 15, 2005)

Alan walks to Origen's horse, pats it's nose than walks it to his.  Holding the reiens in his hand, Alan gets astride his horse and holds both horse's reins.


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## jkason (Aug 15, 2005)

Weel frowns at Helm's choice. As Alan goes to reclaim the horse, the cleric angles his own horse to best obscure him from Helm's men, then turns to face the bodies left unburied. He pulls his nail pendant out and clasps it between both hands. He has no clout to insist on a full consecration, but his vows won't let him leave comrades' souls without a proper blessing.

_Thraunos, your journeyman offers Origen and Kaspar into your care. I pray you make their road straight and even between this world and the next, and help their souls find safe haven at journey's end._

When he's done, Weel once again conceals his holy symbol beneath his shirt, then mounts his horse to join the rest of the army.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 16, 2005)

Caradoc takes one last look back at the scene of the battle, then spurs his horse onward. _Oghma be praised for seeing us through this battle._ But thinking of those who fell, a grim thought flits through his mind, _I wonder, does he laugh even so?_


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## Rhialto (Aug 16, 2005)

Travel commences uneventfully.  The next night, Ventruli approaches the campfire around which the recruits and Bernlad are sitting, and drops off the items.  "The cloak is a cloak of resistance--a minor magic protection used to aid in survival.  The potions will cure light wounds. The ring acts as mystical armor, deflecting blows. As for the wand, it casts Aurelian's Magic Missle in the hands of one who can call on arcane power."

(OOC: Cloak of resistance +1, Ring of Protection +1, Wand of Magic Missile, and 4 potions of cure light wounds.)

As he walks away, Bernlad shakes his head.  "Cold bastard, ain't he?"


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## jkason (Aug 16, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Travel commences uneventfully.  The next night, Ventruli approaches the campfire around which the recruits and Bernlad are sitting, and drops off the items.  "The cloak is a cloak of resistance--a minor magic protection used to aid in survival.  The potions will cure light wounds. The ring acts as mystical armor, deflecting blows. As for the wand, it casts Aurelian's Magic Missle in the hands of one who can call on arcane power."
> 
> (OOC: Cloak of resistance +1, Ring of Protection +1, Wand of Magic Missile, and 4 potions of cure light wounds.)
> 
> As he walks away, Bernlad shakes his head.  "Cold bastard, ain't he?"




Weel nods at Bernlad's comment. "Perhaps that's the price one pays for arcane power?" he offers, then shrugs, returning his attention to the magical items Ventruli has returned. 

"It seems to me we all had a hand in taking down the wizard. It's only fair we share in ..." he pauses, disturbed for a moment, then continues, "... the loot?" 

Weel looks up to the other three recruits.

"The potions are easy enough to divide if we so choose, at one apiece. That leaves the cloak, the wand, and the ring here, as well as the sword back on my horse. I've no skill with that kind of blade, and no arcane knowledge for weilding the wand, which rather limits my choices, I suppose. Of the two remaining, I'd prefer the ring if no one else wants to lay claim to it."


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## Rhialto (Aug 16, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel nods at Bernlad's comment. "Perhaps that's the price one pays for arcane power?" he offers, then shrugs, returning his attention to the magical items Ventruli has returned.




Bernlad chuckles.  "Nah.  It's more the price for being a stuck-up Graes brat."   He shakes his head.  "Beats the Iron Hells out of me what he's doing here, and what's brought him to the cause."


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 17, 2005)

"I think I would look dashing in a cloak.  Maybe that could have allowed me to at least swing at the bugger."


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## mps42 (Aug 17, 2005)

SItting around the fire gives Graevel a chance to reflect on the days events. Looking back, he is not too proud of his actions and the way he has trated his fellow companions.
 He mentally pulls himself out of his reverie and moves a bit closer to the fire. "So..." he begins hesitantly, "other than patriotism, what are you all doing joining this army?"


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 17, 2005)

"Does running away from home count?"


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## Rhialto (Aug 17, 2005)

Bernlad glances at the hob.  "My purposes are simple--I fight 'gainst the Emperor for revenge,"  he notes casually.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 17, 2005)

Caradoc thinks for a moment, then says with a smirk "well, my family depends upon the support of our neighbors, so I'm fighting the fight that our neighbors support. Oh, and as for what was found on the goblin, since many of my skills are most useful behind the front line of battle, I'll withdraw any claim to the protective gear - one of those potions will suffice."


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## mps42 (Aug 17, 2005)

With a slight smile, Graevel nods at Alan "Aye, runnin' away from home counts. I seen a lot o' that in my day, boy. That _definitly_ counts."


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## jkason (Aug 18, 2005)

Weel slides the magical ring onto his right hand, hands the cloak over to Alan, and begins parceling out the potions, one to each recruit. At Graevel's question, Weel flushes, then takes a deep breath. 

"I ... let's just say times seem to encourage a man to seek out all the allies he can," Weel finally says. Then he holds up the wand in the circle, saying "Speaking of, would any of my new allies care to claim the wand, or shall we stow it for now and perhaps sell it later?"

Weel gets a brief glimmer of mischief as he looks sidelong to Bernlad. "You don't suppose Ventruli's heart might grow a few sizes if we gave him a present, do you?"


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## Rhialto (Aug 18, 2005)

Bernlad chuckles to himself.  "Lad, that's working on the assumption that the bastard has a heart.  I'm sure if you had anything he wanted, he'd 'a just taken it, and called it his price."  Bernlad stands up, and looks them over.  "Well, lads, ye take care.  We'll probably be at our camp by tomorrow.  Helm's had Ventruli send his bird over to alert 'em.  Come tomorrow, ye'll be meetin' the Emperor..."

OOC--I suppose none of you would object to going to the camp from here, eh?


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 18, 2005)

As Alan stands up to try on the cloak, he freezes and his eyes get bigger than saucers.  "The...the...the...the Emperor.  Oh my gawd, shutup."


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## Rhialto (Aug 18, 2005)

The next day, after several hours of walking, the recruits and their escort come to a great wooden gate.  A crudely painted sign, labelled 'New Holyhall' is there. Standing to meet them is a group led by an old man dressed in rich clothing, and with long flowing white hair.  He strides forward to meet them.  "Sir Helm!  You're here!  And Lord Ventruli!  I'm happy that you are safe!"    Helm steps off his horse, and then embraces the man.

Glancing at the other people there, the recruits see they are an ogre wearing a bearskin cloak, and carrying a heavily engraved greataxe, two individuals wearing heavy black robes, their heads covered by cloth masks, a handsome dark-haired man clad in white silk, whose face has been powdered, and whose lips have been rouged, who has two young men in similar attire standing behind him, three tall Syrans clad in armor, a woman who looks to be of the same race as the man in white silk, but clad in heavy grey robes and carrying a flail at her side, and a man and a woman who appear to be related, with fiery red hair, clad in motley robes that appear to have been heavily patched.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 18, 2005)

Alans eyes shift from person to person as he wonders what to do.


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## Rhialto (Aug 18, 2005)

The old man steps forward.  "Tell me--are these the new recruits I heard about?"


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 18, 2005)

Instinctively Alan sits tall in the saddle.


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 18, 2005)

Caradoc nods to each individual or small group, and smiles, giving a slight bow, in response to the old man.


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## jkason (Aug 19, 2005)

Weel takes in the gathered throng, trying to identify their various points of origin, ascertain their individual skills, all the while wondering what secrets they themselves might have.

_OOC: He's not an expert by any means, but Weel's Knowledge (religion) might help him identify any other clerics in the bunch, or get an idea of deities worshipped by those in particularly distinct dress. Check is at a +3 _

When the elder statesman asks about the recruits, Weel turns his attention more fully to him, heartbeat speeding up a little. 

"One hopes you've heard good things, Sir," Weel responds, bowing his head in respect.


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## Rhialto (Aug 19, 2005)

Weel

[sblock]The woman with a flail is clearly either a cleric or a zealot of Malka, the Purifier.[/sblock]

Helm smiles at the man.  "I must ask, Sir Faulker, why Emperor Guy--"

"The Emperor is indisposed at the moment," notes Sir Faulker.  He then leans forward to whisper something in Helm's ears.

Caradoc overhears it.

[sblock] "Gaedrele's--divorce has been granted."  [/sblock]

Sir Faulker turns to the recruits.  "Well, lads, welcome to the Army of the True Emperor.  Allow me to introduce you to some of our distinguised allies and emissaries--" He gestures at the ogre.  "Lord Ruedager, a servant of King Etzel,--"  He gestures to the man in white silk.  "Count Meer, of Fisire,--"   He gestures to the men in black cloaks.  "Grave and Sepulchre, ambassadors from the Tower of Secrets--"   He points to the woman with the flail.  "Justicar Ameniea Brathes, ambassador of Mathire,--"   He points to the redheads.  "Lord Phlegethonius Illius and his sister, Lady Helene Illius, of Talossa,--"  He gestures the three Syrans.  "And Prince Gareth Oldcastle, Graf Harin Whiteriver, and Ritter Delus ap Ord."


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 19, 2005)

Hearing all the titles, Alan is extremely impressed as any rube could be with this welcome committee.


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## jkason (Aug 19, 2005)

Weel eyes them all a bit warily, especially the woman with the flail, but does his best to comport himself calmly. 

"An honor to meet you all," Weel says, bowing his head to each in turn. Returning his gaze to Sir Faulkner, Weel introduces himself. "I am Weel, freeman of Poins, now in service to the True Emporer's Army."


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 20, 2005)

_Bernlad wasn't just blowing smoke about "interested parties;" it looks like we have volunteers from half the known world here. Even representatives from Fisire and Mathire working together!_

Caradoc turns to face the assembly. "I am Caradoc Nuttall. I look forward to lending my assistance to our common cause."


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## Rhialto (Aug 29, 2005)

Justicar Brathes snorts.  "If this is the best you can scrounge up, Faulker, I think it's safe to say you can count on as much support from Mathire as you have gotten from Fisire," she notes in acid tones.  She glances at Meer.  "Or even less, to be honest."

The Count glances at her dismissively.  "Ungracious as one would expect of a Mathirian," he notes coldly.  Count Meer steps forward, and takes Caradoc's hand.  "You should follow the example of this princely lad, of such fine manners."  He turns to Caradoc with a smile. "Thanks for your words.  I hope to enjoy service with you as well."  He arches one penciled eyebrow.  "Perhaps you would like to come to tent for a drink later?"  he asks with a certain feigned casualness.


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## jkason (Aug 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Justicar Brathes snorts.  "If this is the best you can scrounge up, Faulker, I think it's safe to say you can count on as much support from Mathire as you have gotten from Fisire," she notes in acid tones.  She glances at Meer.  "Or even less, to be honest."




Weel turns to the Justicar, tilting his head and trying for a tone that speaks of respect rather than challenge. "Surely, Justicar, the purity of a soul cannot be surmised at a glance. And if your issue with our party is our youth, is not your own Lady puissant despite _her_ youth? While age no doubt brings wisdom, there is something to be said for the passion of young, untainted souls, no?"


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## Rhialto (Aug 29, 2005)

Justicar Brathes scowls at Weel's statements.  "Malka is eternal, Archean dog!" she spits.  "I know not what version of the creed you learnt, but I am of the Bresein, and we do not let lies sully our lips so that we may curry favor with the .  Malka is the Maker of All, the Purifier, who has returned to this world to save it from the error it has fallen into!  Liars and blasphemers shall know her by her wrath!"   She draws her flail.  "Shall I count you among them, Archean?"


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 29, 2005)

Jusgt when you thought Alan's eyes could not get bigger, they do.  Than they narrow and focus on the fail, his hand instinctively going for the weapon's hilt and rest on it.


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## jkason (Aug 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Justicar Brathes scowls at Weel's statements.  "Malka is eternal, Archean dog!" she spits.  "I know not what version of the creed you learnt, but I am of the Bresein, and we do not let lies sully our lips so that we may curry favor with the .  Malka is the Maker of All, the Purifier, who has returned to this world to save it from the error it has fallen into!  Liars and blasphemers shall know her by her wrath!"   She draws her flail.  "Shall I count you among them, Archean?"




_Wonderful. Because what I was hoping for was yet another mortal enemy to add to my list,_ Weel thinks as the Justicar sputters and threatens. 

He keeps his sarcasm to himself, however, raising his hands to show he's unarmed. "I've no arguments with you or your Lady, Justicar," he says evenly, then bows his head. "My apologies for any offense." 

_Note to self: leave the talking to Caradoc. He clearly makes friends better than I do._


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## Rhialto (Aug 29, 2005)

The Justicar lowers her flail, then places it back at her belt.  "Very well, young one.  As I am an ambassador, and you have apologized, it would not be seemly if I... _purified _ you.  But be warned, dog.  I am watching you."  With that she backs away.  

Bernlad whispers to Weel.  "Don't let her spook ya to much, laddie.  The Justicar's been here for a couple months now, and she'll probably be leavin' soon.  Fact is, it don't look like she's gonna ally herself with our cause.  The Iskerne--well, they don't seem to interested in takin' sides in this, and when they do, it ain't with us."


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## mps42 (Aug 30, 2005)

Looking alternatively at the Justcar and Weel, "Well, at least we be one, unified fighting force with _no_ internal conflicts. Because that'd be a _bad_ thing while tryin' to depose the  emperor."
 Turning to Weel "Suren yeh can see why that would be bad, can't yeh Weel?"
 Turning back to the Justicar "As can you, most fair Justicar. We _certainly_ wouldn't want teh give the emperor the advantage of facin' an army that be only one wrong word away from infightin'."
 "Surely, two level headed folk such as yerselves can see why that would _not_ be a good thing."

 With that, Graevel will pull this things off of his horse and see if he can find a place to nurse his sore legs and hind end.


OOC: Welcome back, rhialto!


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## Bloodcookie (Aug 30, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> The Count glances at her dismissively.  "Ungracious as one would expect of a Mathirian," he notes coldly.  Count Meer steps forward, and takes Caradoc's hand.  "You should follow the example of this princely lad, of such fine manners."  He turns to Caradoc with a smile. "Thanks for your words.  I hope to enjoy service with you as well."  He arches one penciled eyebrow.  "Perhaps you would like to come to tent for a drink later?"  he asks with a certain feigned casualness.




"Time allowing, I will certainly make an effort," Caradoc says, feeling slightly suspicious of the Count's flattering words, and not wishing to alienate him by refusing outright, or the Justicar by appearing too friendly.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 30, 2005)

Alan relaxes as tension seems to dissipate.


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## jkason (Aug 30, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Bernlad whispers to Weel.  "Don't let her spook ya to much, laddie.  The Justicar's been here for a couple months now, and she'll probably be leavin' soon.  Fact is, it don't look like she's gonna ally herself with our cause.  The Iskerne--well, they don't seem to interested in takin' sides in this, and when they do, it ain't with us."




"Probably for the best," Weel whispers back, still a little disturbed by the encounter. "While the Justicar's 'purification' would no doubt be helpful on the battlefield, I get the impression she'd be loathe to stop at just the enemy."

Weel narrows his eyes at Graevel, switching to Nibelungen to tell him "



Spoiler



Are you the pot, or the kettle today, my surly companion


?" Still, he can't help but smiling a little at the determination with which Graevel maintains his crusty demeanor.


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## Rhialto (Aug 30, 2005)

The Justicar casts a rather disdainful look at the Nibelung.  "I am not yet part of this army, hob.  If I were you I'd pray that this remains the case--but as you worship vile demons that pretend to be gods, this would doubtless be a futile action, if it proves against the will of Malka."   She strides away.

Count Meer releases Caradoc's hand and makes a courtly bow.  "I await you with eagerness.  Whenever you can find a free night--there will be fine glass of mulled wine waiting for you in my tent."  Meer rises, smiles at the young man, and then heads back in the crowd.  

Helene Illius suddenly begins to laugh hysterically.  "Look, Geth!  Look!  That hob's got a glowing head!  It glows and it grows!  Glowing!  Look!"


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## jkason (Aug 30, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Helene Illius suddenly begins to laugh hysterically.  "Look, Geth!  Look!  That hob's got a glowing head!  It glows and it grows!  Glowing!  Look!"




Weel looks to see if Graevel's head has suddenly taken on luminous properties, and if it hasn't, he'll whisper as surruptitiously as he can to Bernlad, "Sir, is ... um, do we know if the Lady there is quite sane?"

If it has, well, he'll be quite silent and dumbfounded by the matter.


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## Rhialto (Aug 30, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel looks to see if Graevel's head has suddenly taken on luminous properties, and if it hasn't, he'll whisper as surruptitiously as he can to Bernlad, "Sir, is ... um, do we know if the Lady there is quite sane?"
> 
> If it has, well, he'll be quite silent and dumbfounded by the matter.




Graevel's head is most assuredly not glowing.

Bernlad glances at him.  "She's an Illius.  Doesn't that answer your question?"

As Helene continue to chuckle, her brother places an arm around her shoulder.  "Yes, Lene, glowing.  His head glows with a fervant radiance, like that of the stars. As usual, you demonstrate amazing clarity of vision."

"Oh, Geth...,"  whimpers his sister, wrapping herself around her brother's side.

Phlegethonius calmly strokes her hair.  "Let us go, sweet sibling, and discuss this prodigy, in the blessed seclusion of my tent..."  He glances around nervously.  "Away from these prying eyes--prying--prying--"  Suddenly he screams.  "STOP LOOKING AT ME!  I AM AN ILLIUS!  I HOLD MORE VALUE IN MY LITTLE FINGER THAN EVERY MAN, WOMAN, AND CHILD IN THIS GODFORSAKEN ENCLAVE COMBINED!  SHAME ME NOT WITH YOUR GLANCES!  LOOK AWAY!!!!"  With that he darts away.  Helene begins to follow, and then turns to the crowd.

"You should not persecute my brother so!  He is a great man, and when he finally comes into his glory, we shall make it point to have you all brought before us, and killed by the most diabolical tortures we can think of!  Like being sent to bed without any ice cream!  Or having your fingernails ripped off, honey smeared on the bleeding stumps, and then ants applied!"  And then with a haughty stomp of her foot she is following her brother, laughing and skipping less than a minute later.


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## jkason (Aug 31, 2005)

Weel decides to stay as still and quiet as he can until all the rest of his new ... allies have finished expressing their various insanities.


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## Ranger Rick (Aug 31, 2005)

Alan scratches his head dumbfounded by it all.


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 2, 2005)

Caradoc opens his mouth to say something, closes it, opens it again, and finally shakes his head, abandoning any attempt to make sense of the siblings.


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## mps42 (Sep 8, 2005)

Looking forlornly out at the miserable camp, Graevel is now even more sorry he followed this group. 'They'll all get themselved kilt, they will.' He thinks quietly to himself.
 With a heavy sigh, he will wander off towards the main encampment looking for the quartermaster.


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## Rhialto (Sep 8, 2005)

Graevel is startled by the sudden appearance of one of the men in dark cloaks at his side.  "I would not be too worried, Sir Hob, at the madness of the Illiae--they have always been such, and in truth, much of Phlgethonius's appearance is ritual."  He turns to the other recruits.  "Nor should you judge all ambassadors by the Justicar's rudeness.  I am Lord Sepulchre, and I welcome you to this camp with honor and civility, for both my account, and that of Lord Grave, whose apprentice I am."  He gives a courtly bow, and then returns to the side of his master, who is calmly walking away.  

Despite his fair words, all feel a slight sense of relief at the pair's leaving.  Sir Faulker glances at the recruits.  "Well--I hope you don't take it so ill that my retinue vanishes on the wind--in truth, I am only Prince Guy's minstrel.  It is foolish to expect me to keep a crowd with me by authority.  Now, if they wanted to hear 'The Lay of the Golden Lion', well, then I'd be up to the task..."   He gestures for them to follow him into the camp.  


Inside, the gate is more like a small town made of tents and crudely constructed buildings.  Men and women are actually conducting business on the street, selling food and loot.  One old woman glances at the recruits as they enter.  "Talismans, yer lordships!  Magic talismans!  Protect your life and livelihood!  Magic talismans!"


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## jkason (Sep 8, 2005)

Weel notes the woman with the charms, but passes her by. Chances are good she's a huckster, but if he has the time, he should come back and see. Thraunos, he remembers, has given him a spell for detecting magical power. The men from town don't seem to have had any issues with his casting, but there's still no indication how his Archean status might play out in what was obviously an unstable political arena. Best to hold off public casting unless it's truly necessary. 

Besides, if their single encounter thus far is any indication, the group may need those other spells available for conversion to healing if they're going to keep themselves aboveground. Weel expects their potions may be used up all too quickly.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 8, 2005)

Alan goes to look at the woman's charms, feeling through his pockets he realizes he has no money. "I would love to buy one mi lady but I am short on funds.  I have nothing to pay with.  Even my weapons and clothes are borrowered."

OOC: I am off line until Monday.


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## Rhialto (Sep 8, 2005)

As Alan looks at the old woman's charms, an attractive redhead wearing a rather scanty shift walks to his side.  Hearing him explain about his lack of funds, she chuckles.  "I wouldn't let that bother you, handsome.  A boy like you--well, some girls might be willing to let you get things on credit."  She smiles at him.  "I know I am."


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## jkason (Sep 8, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> As Alan looks at the old woman's charms, an attractive redhead wearing a rather scanty shift walks to his side.  Hearing him explain about his lack of funds, she chuckles.  "I wouldn't let that bother you, handsome.  A boy like you--well, some girls might be willing to let you get things on credit."  She smiles at him.  "I know I am."




_Thraunos, what trouble can't this boy find?_ Weel thinks as Alan's distracted by baubles and redheads. 

"Alan Hale," he calls out, channeling his best foreman's demeanor. "We don't even know where we're quartered yet. Leave the ... shopping until we're at least given that much."


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## Rhialto (Sep 8, 2005)

The woman glances at Weel mockingly.  "Ohh, I was just talking with him!" she notes, in a joking tone.  "There's nothing wrong with that.  Or do you just distrust redheads?  If that's the case, I can take care of that..."  She closes her eyes, for a moment.  Suddenly, her hair color changes into a light blonde.  "I've heard it said that the gentlefolk prefer blondes," she notes.  "Is it true?  Or do you like your birds of a darker feather...?"   She shuts her eyes again, her hair becoming raven black.  "Well?  Are any more to your liking?  Or perhaps you prefer more--_exotic_ hues?"  She suddenly becomes an Ulheru, her hair a bright sky blue, skin the hue of honeydew melon.  Smiling at the recruits, she beckons enticingly.  "Come on!  Speak!  Name your desires, and I will labor to fulfill them..."


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## mps42 (Sep 9, 2005)

Walking down the avenue, Graevel is shocked at the amount of business being conducted. Hearing the Cries of the woman, he gives a brief glance to the Talismans and begins to walk on. When the redhead comes up and begins talking to Alan, however, he stops short and watches her display with slight amusement. "That'd be a neat trick, m'lady. I'd be surprised if ye could meet MY tastes, though It'd be interestin ter see yeh try."
 With that, he walkes on, catching up to Sir Faulkner.


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## Rhialto (Sep 9, 2005)

The woman turns to the Nibelung, and suddenly shifts into an attractive female hob.  "Have I hit close to your desires, my friend?  Or shall I try again?"


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## jkason (Sep 9, 2005)

Weel forces a smile, though he's a little tire from the trip to make much of a show of it.

"I'm sure you're a lovely person under all the glamouring, but my companions and I really must be going if we're to keep up with our group. Good day." Weel jabs his thumb in the direction of the retreating leaders, then heads off to catch up with them, ignoring any further attempts to delay him the shape-changing girl attempts.


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 9, 2005)

_How lovely, Alan's made a new friend,_ Caradoc muses, stifling a chuckle at what he imagines is Alan's first encounter with a woman of this profession, and walks up to the woman hawking charms. "Greetings, madam. Would you show me these talismans you offer, and perhaps explain their properties?"


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## Rhialto (Sep 10, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel forces a smile, though he's a little tire from the trip to make much of a show of it.
> 
> "I'm sure you're a lovely person under all the glamouring, but my companions and I really must be going if we're to keep up with our group. Good day." Weel jabs his thumb in the direction of the retreating leaders, then heads off to catch up with them, ignoring any further attempts to delay him the shape-changing girl attempts.




"Glamour?" she notes with an offended tone, shifting back to her first form.  "This is natural talent!"  She crosses her arms.  "We changelings do not use petty illusion--we shift our skin and bodies to appear as we desire."   She places a hand on Alan's shoulder.  "Come!  The Azerai caused much misery to this world--but they left one thing of beauty!  Sample of it!"


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## mps42 (Sep 10, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> The woman turns to the Nibelung, and suddenly shifts into an attractive female hob.  "Have I hit close to your desires, my friend?  Or shall I try again?"




 With an appreciative glance, Graevel nods "Ye make a comely lass in any form. maybe later..." and he follows the group.


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## Rhialto (Sep 12, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> _How lovely, Alan's made a new friend,_ Caradoc muses, stifling a chuckle at what he imagines is Alan's first encounter with a woman of this profession, and walks up to the woman hawking charms. "Greetings, madam. Would you show me these talismans you offer, and perhaps explain their properties?"




"My talismans ward off death, heal wounds, blunt the swords of your enemies, bring prosperity and success!" states the old woman.  "With one of these, you stand a good chance of surviving this war..."


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## jkason (Sep 12, 2005)

Realizing his companions have all variously found themselves drawn to one or both of the women, Weel sighs and stands by them, trying to keep an eye out for where Bernlad and the others are headed. Given how solidly he seems to have offended the changeling, he moves next to Caradoc to look at the woman's wares.

Given that none of his companions seemed phased by his divine magics when he healed Alan (and, more importantly, none of them had felt the need to bring them up to their recruiters), Weel takes a chance to mention to Caradoc, under his breath, "If you'd like, I have a means of detecting real magics in this collection. Nothing as specific as Ventruli's augeries, but you'd at least know if they're bespelled."


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 12, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Given that none of his companions seemed phased by his divine magics when he healed Alan (and, more importantly, none of them had felt the need to bring them up to their recruiters), Weel takes a chance to mention to Caradoc, under his breath, "If you'd like, I have a means of detecting real magics in this collection. Nothing as specific as Ventruli's augeries, but you'd at least know if they're bespelled."




Caradoc whispers back, "No need to trouble yourself, I have a means of detecting enchantments as well." With that, he turns to survey the old woman's wares, seeming to absentmindedly recite a nonsensical little ditty to himself as he does so, "Show me, show/ what I would know/ what I would see/ reveal to me..."

OOC: trying to cast _Detect Magic_ without being obvious about it. Wouldn't want to insult m'lady's integrity


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 12, 2005)

As one would expect from a boy fresh off the farm, Alan is bewitched by the changeling.  Forgetting about the talimans Alan slowly drifts away with the changeling.  Asking her simple questions like where she is from and what does sample her wares mean etc.


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## Rhialto (Sep 12, 2005)

Caradoc:
[sblock]The talismans do radiate abjuration magic, actually.[/sblock]

Alan:

The changeling chuckles at the young boy's eagerness.  "Well, sweet child--my name is Lise, of Nowhere in Particular, and Everywhere I've Ever Been.  As for sampling my wares..."   She glances around.  "Perhaps I can explain that some other time, when there are less eager eyes surrounding us."


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 12, 2005)

Caradoc smiles at the saleswoman, "Might you be more specific as to what these charms' functions are? Do they all grant the same protection, or do they differ?"


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## jkason (Sep 12, 2005)

Weel settles back to watch the negotiation (as Thraunos knows he's made enough enemies with his cursed tongue today), taking note that clearly he's not the only one with unrevealed-magic up his sleeve. A good thing to know the next time he communes with Thraunos to ask for miracles.


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## mps42 (Sep 13, 2005)

Graevel issues a little chuckle, seeing Alan being led off. _Looks like the lad's in fer more than one kind of adventure this trip._
 He continues to follow, hoiping to be in camp soon.


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## Rhialto (Sep 13, 2005)

The old woman smiles mysteriously at Caradoc.  "Different amulets have different effects."   She picks one up, a small medal engraved with strange signs.  "This one guards against poison."   She puts it down, and gets two more, one which bears what looks like a large T on it, and the other which is in the shape of the equal.  "This one grants luck in gambling.  And this one grants one speed."


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 13, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Caradoc:
> [sblock]The talismans do radiate abjuration magic, actually.[/sblock]
> 
> Alan:
> ...




Alan looks around, "why are they staring?"


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 13, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> The old woman smiles mysteriously at Caradoc.  "Different amulets have different effects."   She picks one up, a small medal engraved with strange signs.  "This one guards against poison."   She puts it down, and gets two more, one which bears what looks like a large T on it, and the other which is in the shape of the equal.  "This one grants luck in gambling.  And this one grants one speed."




_Well, seeing as I've been gambling with my life for about a week now..._ 

"How much for the, ah... 'lucky charm'?" he asks.


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## Rhialto (Sep 14, 2005)

Caradoc:

"You've an honest face.  I'll let you have it for--25 gold,"  she states, after some thought.

Alan:

Lise giggles.  "Come see me some night at The Crescent Moon, and I'll--explain matters to you."   Then, blowing him a kiss, she walks away.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 14, 2005)

Alan stands looking tongue tied & dumbfounded..."ah...OK...yea...sure thing."

Alan walks toward the others with a huge cat eating grin on his face.


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Caradoc:
> 
> "You've an honest face.  I'll let you have it for--25 gold,"  she states, after some thought.




Caradoc thinks for just a moment before shaking his head, "I appreciate your generous offer, ma'am, but I'm afraid that price is a bit too dear for me right now. I'll surely return, though, should the future hold any riches for me," he says with a laugh. With that, he rejoins the rest of the group. "I apologize for the delay; just getting on good terms with the local mercantile establishment." He pauses at his own words, _Oh, father, get out of my head..._


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## jkason (Sep 15, 2005)

Weel chuckles as they return to their trek to camp. "Well, someone ought to, I suppose. Thr--Gods know I've done nothing but antagonize, whether I will or not. Diplomacy clearly isn't my strong suit."


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## Rhialto (Sep 15, 2005)

Sir Faulker stands at the end of the street, smiling at you.  "Ahh, youth...  The many times I kept older men waiting..."   He coughs.  "Your good lads.  I think you'll do well for us."


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## jkason (Sep 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Sir Faulker stands at the end of the street, smiling at you.  "Ahh, youth...  The many times I kept older men waiting..."   He coughs.  "Your good lads.  I think you'll do well for us."




"Gods willing, Sir Faulker," Weel says with a bow of his head. "I believe we can forego further wandering until we reach camp. Thanks much for waiting.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 15, 2005)

"Yes Sir."


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## Rhialto (Sep 19, 2005)

Sir Faulker leads the recruits to a large barracks.  As they walk, they pass a large group of Ogres, wild-looking men, and even wilder looking Nibelungen, gambling.  As they enter the barracks, the recruits hear a refrain of a song, sung by a woman with a clear voice and a slight accent.  "--And the Red Lion went where the Black Lion led!  Following the Black Lion, the Red!  So hail, hail, hail Alamor!  And hail, hail, hail his son!  In battle their blades were as one!  In battles, 'twas their blades that won!"  Around where the call to hail is sung, the woman's voice is joined by the raucous voices of soldiers.  Apparently, this is a popular song.

Sir Faulker takes them to a small room, and pulls out a book.  "On the 12th day of Greenleaf, the year 1495, By the Reckoning of the Emperor, the 500th year of the Ascendant Dragon by the Elvish Count,"  he notes, jotting things down, "the Army of the True Emperor grew by four members."  He glances at the group.  "Would you mind signing your names, as it please you?"


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## jkason (Sep 19, 2005)

Weel takes a deep breath, then signs where indicated. _That's that, then. A contract signed and no backing out now._


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 19, 2005)

OOC: is this today's date or our joining date long ago?


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 19, 2005)

_Well, here goes nothing._ With a nod, Caradoc steps forward to sign his name.


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## Rhialto (Sep 19, 2005)

ooc:  Today's date, by Tur An Tiel's measure.

Also, everyone gets 450 xps for beating that nasty goblin.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 19, 2005)

Alan sees the date, counts on his fingers and says, "Excuse me shouldn't the date be listed as the date when we signed up orginally?"


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## Rhialto (Sep 19, 2005)

Faulker glances at Alan, amused.  "No, for while you may have taken the Emperor's cause, you hadn't taken his Oath, or his Coin."   He pulls four silver coins out of his pouch and hands them to the recruits.  "And now you have."


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 19, 2005)

"Oh!  I thought we did do the oath back there."..... signs his name.


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## mps42 (Sep 20, 2005)

With a heavy sigh, Graevel makes his mark on the sheet.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 20, 2005)

Alan looks at his 4 coins, "You know I think this is the most money I have ever had."


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## Rhialto (Sep 24, 2005)

Faulker nods.  "Well, spend it well," he says with a chuckle.  He gestures to the front yard.  "The barracks are over there."

OOC:  You each get _one_ coin, RR.


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## jkason (Sep 24, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Faulker nods.  "Well, spend it well," he says with a chuckle.  He gestures to the front yard.  "The barracks are over there."
> 
> OOC:  You each get _one_ coin, RR.




Weel bows his head, then backs away, moving in the direction Faulker points. 

"Well, then, I suppose we should find ourselves some quarters. A good day to you, Sir Faulker."

Weel stops once he's in the yard again, waiting for the others before actually proceeding.


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 26, 2005)

Caradoc follows Weel into the yard. "Well, I'll certainly be glad to get this pack off my back and stowed in a corner for a while."


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## mps42 (Sep 27, 2005)

Graevel mutters to himself, pacing irritably in the yard.


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 27, 2005)

Alan sits down and with a smile on his face closes his eyes to daydream.....


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## jkason (Sep 27, 2005)

"All right then. Let's get rid of some of the road gear, then maybe we'll have time to head back into town. We still have the goblin's sword and wand to sell. Maybe that'll net us enough money for some of those shiny amulets, eh? We could use a little luck I'd say."

With that, Weel heads over to the barracks, looking for where, exactly, he'll be resting his head.


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## Rhialto (Sep 27, 2005)

The barracks are a walled-in area, filled with tents, one of them a large one with gold trimming.  About a hundred or so soldiers are keeping themselves busy there, cooking, sleeping and the like.  Many of them are wounded.  A large group of them are listening to an attractive Ulheru woman playing on the lute, and singing.  The men are cheerfully stamping to her tune.

"Oh, bravely went forth Alamor, into the jaws of his foes--To save the life of his son, beset on all side by woes! With sword and spear ready, the Emperor did cut through their fearsome line, as Prince Accolon kept fighting though suppine!  Alamor took his son up, and placed him on Enemy's Rue.  'I will not leave you here!' shouted that valiant prince so true.  Alamor shook his mighty head, and put his blade in his son's hand.  "I die as I live, my boy, making a desperate stand."   And then the stallion charged off, and as Accolon did see,
Alamor with only spear fought the enemy.  He fought until his spear broke--he fought til body tired--he fought until finally, from grim wounds he expired."   

The men are growing silent as the song reaches its climax.  "Oh, Alamor was the Black Lion!  And Accolon he was the Red!  And all brave men of Syra revere the field where the Black for the Red Lion bled!"   Raucous cheering begins.  "So all hail Alamor!  A true emperor he!  He went into hardship and he went into death willingly! Yes, hail, hail, hail to the Black Lion!  Hail, hail, hail--"

"What is the meaning of this?" says a strong dark voice.  It belongs to a man standing in the entryway of the tent with gold lining.  He is clad in fine, but tattered and stained clothes, a battered cloth-of-silver cape slung over his shoulders.  His face is handsome, but heavily lined, with an eyepatch over his left eye. He seems tired, and perhaps a little ill.   "Why are you singing--THAT song?"

"Sir," says the Ulheru, hesitatingly.  "It is the Lay of the Black Lion.  A well-loved song for Syran soldiers."

The man grits his teeth.  "It is not well-loved by me."  He glances at two of the soldiers near the front of the crowd, who were showing especial enjoyment of the song.  "You two!  Grab this Ulheru!"

The pair scramble to their feet and do so.  The man regards her coldly.  "Now, Ulheru, I have done you a great favor by allowing you to stay in this camp, and sing to my men.  And this is how you repay me?  By treachery?"

The Ulheru begins to stutter and stammer, incoherant.

Faulker rushes up from behind the recruits, holding out his hand.  "Sir--Lord Guy--you know this song!  I sang it for you during the Khuldeshian campaign.  It is no treason--it is a monument to the nobility of the Syran Empire!"

Guy glares at the stately old man.  "Faulker, do not seek to counsel me in these matters.  The songs I loved in my youth have become the songs I hate in my manhood."  He turns to regard the Ulheru coldly.  "As I said, treachery.  And treachery is a debt that must be paid.  I am a man who pays his debts."

Faulker falls to his knees.  "Sir--I beg you--the song is suspect, I admit, but--she could not know.  It is such a well-loved song elsewhere--she could not know."

Guy's hand is going back to his cloak. "Ignorance is no excuse before MY law."   He draws out a crossbow, and points it at the Ulheru.  "Seldina Cadu, I, Emperor Guy the First, True Emperor of Syra, Sitting in Defiance, do judge you a traitor and caitiff, and sentence you to death."   With that he fires his crossbow cleanly into the Ulheru's belly.  She shrieks, convorts, then falls over dead.  The two soldiers release her body, somber.  Guy glances over his men.  "The next man I hear singing traitorous songs of Alamor the Bastard, or any of his sons--no, of any of the Alamorian line--will recieve forty lashes.  So I decree."  He turns to Faulker, glaring.  "To your feet, old man.  Do not humiliate yourself further."

Faulker rises, unsteadily.  "Indeed, sir.  As  you wish."  He gives a stately bow.  "Always--as you wish."


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 28, 2005)

Upon seeing this, Alan leans toward Caradoc, and whispers, "What did we sign up for?"


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## jkason (Sep 28, 2005)

Weel shares Alan's sentiments, but doesn't voice them. Instead, he motions away from the gold-fringed tent.

"I think it might do us good to find bunks and stay out of the way," he says softly.


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 28, 2005)

_Oh, hell. What was that I told myself about tyrants?_ Caradoc casts his eyes toward the ground, and follows Weel's lead.


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## Rhialto (Sep 28, 2005)

Unfortunately, Weel's plan to avoid notice by moving in the opposite direction fails, as being some of the only people close to the scene moving attracts Guy's attention.  "You there!  Who are you?"

Faulker rushes to his Emperor's side.  "They--they are new recruits, sir."

Guy regards them for a moment, a smile coming to his face.  "New recruits..."   He strides forward, and grasps each by the shoulder briefly.   "Welcome.  I am--honored that you choose to fight by my side.  Please do not hold this... unseemly demonstration against me.  It has been a hard fight, and my discipline must be harsh.  But as my judgement is stern, so are my rewards generous."  He shakes his head, and then rubs his temples.  "I must--rest now.  My--health and my sleep have both been poor of late..."   With that, he turns and returns to his tent.

Faulker glances at the recruits.  "I--he is right.  Do not judge him by this.  He was ever the finest of men, until the Battle of Eastwatch.  That--broke something in him, I fear..."


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## Bloodcookie (Sep 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Faulker glances at the recruits.  "I--he is right.  Do not judge him by this.  He was ever the finest of men, until the Battle of Eastwatch.  That--broke something in him, I fear..."




Caradoc nods, "Though the body may live on, war truly spares no man."


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## Rhialto (Sep 29, 2005)

Faulker nods.  "Truly spoken.  I fear it has been harder for my lord than most.  He has wagered and lost all--his home, his wealth, his title--even his marriage.  And his reputation--"  He sighs.  "Before Eastwatch, he was accredited the finest general in Syra.  Now they say Guy loses battles with elite troops that Gereint wins with bandits and desert savages."  He shakes his head.  "In truth, though I tried to make light of it, playing songs of the Black Lion to the camp was--in poor taste."


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## mps42 (Sep 29, 2005)

Graevel only stares at the fallen woman, a look of despair on his face. " 'Once a man becomes judge, jury and executioner, he is a man no longer' " he says quietly. 
 Graevel walks over to the fallen woman, closes her eyes (if they're not already), crosses her arms over her chest, turns and leaves the tent, looking for the changeling they had seen earlier.


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## Rhialto (Sep 29, 2005)

Faulker watches, with a note of approval, as Graevel tends the Ulheru's body.  "He is an Emperor, Nibelung.  He is something more than a man."


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## jkason (Sep 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Faulker watches, with a note of approval, as Graevel tends the Ulheru's body.  "He is an Emperor, Nibelung.  He is something more than a man."




"And we are naught _but_ men," Weel says, but goes no further. Trying to change the subject lest he get himself in too deep, he says, "If it's all the same to you, Sir, I think I'll be finding a bed, and if there's time before dinner, I have some things to sell back in the market."


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 29, 2005)

Yes a bed sounds like a good thing to look for.


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## mps42 (Sep 30, 2005)

Before leaving Graevel turns to Faulkner "Something more, or something less? I know of no man who has the wisdom to mete out his kind of justice. 
 "He said not to judge him by this, but how can we not? If a man cannot be judged by his actions, how shall he be judged?
 "Already I regret signing that accursed piece of paper and taking your... blood money.
 "Look into your soul, Faulkner. You know what happened here is wrong. I may be a 'hob', as you say, but even I know the difference between justice and cruelty."


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## Rhialto (Sep 30, 2005)

Faulker looks at Graevel agonized.  This is a man whose soul is in torment. 

"I do not deny this--bloodletting was--excessive.  But I suspect Guy knows this as well, in his heart.  And try and see it from his eyes.  A woman--an outsider--tries to cheer the men's spirits with a song about a bastard fighting for his inheritance against a cousin who opposes him--a bastard who won, against all odds?"  

He looks at the ground.  "It strikes--close to home."


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## Ranger Rick (Sep 30, 2005)

Alan in the background mindlessly shrugs his shoulders in agreement as he over hears this.


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## jkason (Oct 2, 2005)

Weel makes for a tent a little ways off, hopefully out of the immediate view of their leader's own, and if he can catch anyone to ask, says "Pardon, but my companions and I have just joined the army, and we're looking to find ourselves some beds here in the barracks. Is there a process arranged for that?"


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## Rhialto (Oct 4, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel makes for a tent a little ways off, hopefully out of the immediate view of their leader's own, and if he can catch anyone to ask, says "Pardon, but my companions and I have just joined the army, and we're looking to find ourselves some beds here in the barracks. Is there a process arranged for that?"




An older solider stops chewing the bit of bitterweed in his mouth, and spits it out.  "Go see Granthus at the Emporium in the outer camp for a tent.  Then come here, and set it up."   He glares at the recruits.  "And don't do it in a spot any of the rest of us have taken--got it?"
With that he turns away.


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## jkason (Oct 4, 2005)

"They do like to keep us moving, you have to say that for the True Emporer's Army," Weel quips, heading back out to the outer camp.

OOC: _Is the outer camp the same as the town-like area we passed through with the woman and her amulets? If it is, then Weel's also going to look for a place to sell the sword and wand he got off the goblin. If not, he'll probably head out to do that once they have the tent set up._


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 5, 2005)

Caradoc also heads for the outer camp.


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## Rhialto (Oct 5, 2005)

_OOC:  Correct--the outer camp is the quasi-town that's built up around the soldiers, collecting all the hanger-ons, camp followers, and the like the Army of the True Emperor has attracted._

As the re-enter the bustle of the camp, a little Wood Goblin approaches them, holding a large cart of foodstuff--what looks like thin rolls of breading.  He waves one around on a fork. "Fried spider legs!  Fried spider legs!  Fricasseed in venom!  Delicious, nutrious--a Wood Goblin favorite!  Fried spider legs!"  He glances at the recruits.  "Want some?  It's something you'll never forget!"

Several of the ogres and rather wild Nibelungen are approaching the cart.


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## mps42 (Oct 5, 2005)

While intrigued by the offering, Graevel will pass it by.


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## jkason (Oct 5, 2005)

Weel does his best polite smile and begs off.

"Not today, thank you. But we're looking for the Emporium. Could you perhaps point the way?"


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 5, 2005)

Alan looks on waiting to hear the directions.


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## Rhialto (Oct 5, 2005)

The Wood Goblin smiles.  "Well, I _might_ be persuaded to give you the location of the Emporium, and a few tips about it, if you were to sample some of my wares."   He waves the 'treat' in Weel's face.  "One copper a leg.  You'll be gettin' some of the best info you can get in this crazy place--an' a great snack as well.  A bargain you CANNOT afford to pass up on."


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 5, 2005)

Alan looks to his companions, "If any of you have a copper, I will eat it."


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 5, 2005)

Caradoc shrugs and tosses the goblin a copper. "I wouldn't feel obligated to eat the thing," he says to Alan under his breath, "I don't expect that venom would agree with your digestion."


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## Rhialto (Oct 6, 2005)

The Goblin snickers.  "Oh, don't worry--the cooking burns the poison right out, leaving nothing but pure _flavor_."   He immediatley takes the leg he has been waving around, and with one quick gesture, shoves it up Alan's mouth.  "See?"

Alan
[sblock]The leg is surprisingly good.  Sort of like a bannana, only spicier.[/sblock]

"Now--the Emporium is the big building on the Southern edge of town.  It has a sign with a wheel in front of it.  The proprieter is Kessel Gyse.  Watch him.  He's from Seilen, and he'll cheat you anyway he can.  If he gets out his scales, make sure they're weighted right, and if he gets out a ledger, insist on reading it yourself."  He grins at the recruits.  "Now--anyone else want a spider leg?  A taste treat from the woods of the Pyrees that only us Wood Goblins know how to fry up right."


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 6, 2005)

Alan licks his fingers that held the leg.  "Not bad, you all should try it....What?...no no more for me thanks for asking."

OOC: I will be offline till Tuesday.


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## jkason (Oct 7, 2005)

Weel pats Alan on the back with a smile. 

"Good man, Alan, taking one for the team."

At the directions, Weel heads off to the South, nodding acknowledgement but politely declining the goblins offer. 

"Perhaps another time. We have some other pressing business at the moment. Thanks again."

With that, he's off. The Emporium may be a good place to sell their extra loot, but in case the goblin's right about how much of a potential cheat the proprietor is, Weel keeps a look out for other shops that might be likely prospects to stop at afterward for a fair deal on the goods.


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## Rhialto (Oct 7, 2005)

As the group leaves, the ogres and Nibelungen reach the stand and begin ordering spider legs.  The Wood Goblin grins and handles their business with a casual flair.

Going south, the recruits pass by numerous businesses.  And every damn one of them looks like the cashbox might have four or five silver eagles in it--TOPS.  It's a neighborhood of grubby stalls, and leaning, mildewed tents, where loud people eagerly shout out their wares.

Many of which are not exactly useful.

"--The ACTUAL skeleton of a Kledite Dragon!" shouts an Ulheru in front of a pile of bones.  "These savage beasts stand taller than a man, but possess only the savage appetite of a beast!  Astound your friends with this fascinating curio!  Only 500 golden eagles!"

Eventually, they reach a small stone building that appears well-tended, and surprisingly sturdy.  A sign with a wheel hangs above the door.  "Merchant's Emporium Outpost: New Holyhall", read the letters above it.  "Propieter--Kessel Gyse".


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 8, 2005)

Caradoc smiles and begins to shake his head no to the goblin's offer, but his curiosity gets the better of him. He gives the goblin another copper, and munches the leg as he follows the rest of the group to the emporium.
_I signed on to this fiasco looking for some new experiences, and I'll be damned if I'm going to pass any up. And besides, it's good for the economy._


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## jkason (Oct 10, 2005)

"Good to see the army has such ... variety in the wares available," Weel says as they pass the vendors. He realizes suddenly that for all the traveling he's done on roadcrews during his clerical training, he's still lead a sheltered life. The temple provided for him at every turn. These poor, untended souls, on the other hand, clearly had no such benefactor. 

Of course, Weel was currently so far removed from the physical help of Thraunos' church that he was nearly in a similar boat. Thankfully, his morning prayers allowed him to still feel the power of Thraunos even if he couldn't presently take part in his church.

At the Emporium, Weel stopped. 

"So then, we're looking for Granthus and a tent, yes?" he verified with his companions. Then he turned to Caradoc "Also, Caradoc, if this place looks like it might have the funds to purchase our loot, maybe you'd be willing to barter for their sale? I think we've established that I'm lousy at this sort of thing."


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 10, 2005)

"I'd be glad to. I'm sure it will pose a bit more of a challenge than haggling with the townsfolk over the price of dried beans, but I'll do my best," he says with a chuckle.


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## Rhialto (Oct 11, 2005)

Opening the door, the recruits find themselves in a room full of shelves.  A thin, fussy man is directing a chubby little Nibelungen (a Thari, actually) in cleaning the room, while another man is snoring at his desk, a bottle of wine in front of him.

"--And make sure shelf 7 gets cleaned Gelf!"   mutters the thin man demandingly.  He suddenly realizes the recruits are in.  "Oh.  Customers. Welcome to the Merchant's Emporium. How may I help you?"


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## jkason (Oct 12, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> "Oh.  Customers. Welcome to the Merchant's Emporium. How may I help you?"




Weel, figuring the basic equipping ought not take negotiating skill (though he does give Caradoc a sidelong glance, wondering if it's safe to make such assumptions) smiles at the man. 

"Greetings, sir. We're newly drafted members of the army. I've been told to ask after Granthus about requisitioning a tent?"


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 13, 2005)

Alan, was tagging along and would occasionaly stop on the way only to have Weel or Caradoc grab his tunic and drag him away, as Alan whines, "but...but..but..."

By the time they have reached the Merchant shop, Alan's curosity has waned as boredom fills the void.  Alan has a bored glazed look to his eyes, but stands taller when he hears Weel speak.


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## Rhialto (Oct 13, 2005)

The thin man stands up tall at Weel's question.  "Then you have business with me.  Gral Geir Granthus, formerly of Ilya, assistant manager at this outpost of the Great Merchant's Emporium."   He smiles patronizingly at the recruits.  "So--a requisitioning.  I am legally required to give you at least a standard tent. Cost, five copper eagles. Heavy canvas, very sturdy, room for four, though it'd be a tight fit--though seeing as one of you is half-sized so to speak, you should manage it easily.  Ha ha ha."   He is probably one of the only people the recruits have ever met who actually says 'ha ha ha' in place of laughing.  "However, if you are willing to splurge ten gold eagles, I will give you the deluxe tent.  Durable spider's silk with snow bear fur as a lining.  Water resistant, warm, and extremely spacious--can comfortably hold six.  Also, I'd throw in four deluxe bed rolls and sleeping bags with that--fine Cassiran cotton lined with goose feathers.  You will sleep, sirs, with the utmost comfort available to you."   He stares at the recruits eagerly.  "Which tent you recieve is, of course, completely your choice.  Though I'd recommend the deluxe."


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## jkason (Oct 13, 2005)

Weel considers the funds on hand and the idea of having his wide frame and Alan's tall one squeezed into the same tent. Not trusting himself, he leans in to Caradoc.

"I'm inclined to try for the better one," he whispers to the merchant's son, "but I suspect maybe there's a better price to be had for someone with good haggling skills. Which would be not me. Might even be a chance to feel him out for how fairly he might trade on our items for sale."


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 13, 2005)

Caradoc whispers back to Weel, "I agree. First, I think we should ask to see the deluxe tent before we pay for anything. If it matches his description, 10 gold divided between the four of us shouldn't be too bad at all, the possibility of a discount notwithstanding. That will be a decision for the whole group, in any case." He turns to the merchant, "Sir, might we take a look at these tents you offer, so as to decide which will better suit our circumstances?"


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## mps42 (Oct 14, 2005)

Graevel continues to wander the tent city looking at the rabble that have followed this motley crew of an army, quietly wondering what might be next for him.


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## Rhialto (Oct 15, 2005)

Granthus nods.  "Certainly."  He claps his hand.  "Gelf!  Get the A-Grade and the D-Grade tents!"   

The Thari bows, and rushes off, then comes back with two strips of fabric.  Granthus smiles.  "As both tents use the same frame, naturally that is not an issue.  Merely the tent itself."   He pulls out a strip of coarse canvas of the two bundles in the Thari's arms.  "The standard."   He pulls out a strip of some shiny, silky fabric, dyed red.  "The deluxe."    He bows.  "The decision, gentlemen, is up to you."


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## jkason (Oct 16, 2005)

Weel leans in to the others, whispering "The other tent certainly looks finer, but I wonder if it's as sturdy? I don't know much about fabrics, myself."

_OOC: While the characters weren't exactly studying the tents on their way through, I figure they got a vague impression of them. To the best of Weel's memory, did there seem to be many of the finer tents around?_


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## Rhialto (Oct 17, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel leans in to the others, whispering "The other tent certainly looks finer, but I wonder if it's as sturdy? I don't know much about fabrics, myself."
> 
> _OOC: While the characters weren't exactly studying the tents on their way through, I figure they got a vague impression of them. To the best of Weel's memory, did there seem to be many of the finer tents around?_




Granthus's face takes on a polite, but definite sneer.  "Well, sir, allow me to state that spidersilk is as fine as gossamer--but it's also as strong as steel."  He gives it a yank, demonstrating an impressive amount of strength.  "This is not only a more attractive fabric then the canvas--it is much, much stronger."

(OOC: Nope.  Most were cheap canvas.)


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## jkason (Oct 17, 2005)

Weel flushes at the merchant's offense. 

"If we could just have a few private moments to confer?" he asks, then steps further away, hoping he's finally out of earshot of Granthus' clearly excellent hearing. Still, his whisper is even softer this time as he leans into the others.

"Seems strong enough, though I'd be better judging an actual building. The only other question is how such a tent might go over back at camp. Most of those seemed to be the low-end variety. Would we be seen as putting on airs if we go with the upgrade?"


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 18, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> "Seems strong enough, though I'd be better judging an actual building. The only other question is how such a tent might go over back at camp. Most of those seemed to be the low-end variety. Would we be seen as putting on airs if we go with the upgrade?"




"Hmm, that is cause for concern... however, we will likely be using it for quite some time; better to not need a replacement every couple of months, not to mention its value once cold weather sets in. I don't think we should sacrifice our welfare simply for the sake of appearing humble. Besides, this seems quite a cosmopolitan lot - there are royals about, after all - I wouldn't think a slightly above-par tent would attract much attention for long." He shrugs, and chuckles, saying, "I guess that's my long-winded way of saying I think we should buy the nice tent."


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## jkason (Oct 18, 2005)

Weel nods. "Sensible, as I should have been. I suppose I'm a bit jumpy about the impressions I'm making, since I seem to be making so many of them poorly. We'll get the better tent, though I'll leave it to your expertise to haggle the price down."


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 19, 2005)

OOC: I have a sense motive +5, did I sense the shopkeeper was lying and cheating us?


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## Rhialto (Oct 19, 2005)

(Reply--he's definitely looking to make the most profitable sale he can, but he seems reasonably honest about it.)


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## Ranger Rick (Oct 19, 2005)

Alan whispers, "let us go as high as 6 gold.  So we should start at 2 gold.  However, I only have the one coin given by the paymaster.  So I will need to borrow money and pay you back the next few paydays."


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 21, 2005)

Caradoc considers his companions' advice, and, summoning up his haggling wits and giving a silent prayer to Oghma, purposefully steps toward Granthus.
"Well, sir, my compatriots and I agree that your wares are certainly of a high caliber, and we shall happily do business with a man of your character. So, keeping in mind the rather desperate and utilitarian nature of our current circumstances," he says, gesturing to indicate the surrounding encampment, "how can we carry out this transaction so as to reap maximum benefit for all concerned? Might we discuss what an acceptable price would be?" Caradoc reaches into his coin purse and casually lays two gold coins on the counter.


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## Rhialto (Oct 21, 2005)

Granthus arches one eyebrow into a look of patrician disdain.  "A proper price would be those two coins right there--and eight more just like it."  He curves his lips into something that would best be called a smile.  "Understand my friend--you are not dealing with some backwater vendor of goods.  You are dealing with the Merchant's Emporium.  We have controlled the vast majority of trade on two continents.  We alone maintain the paths to the Isles of Spice.  When we state our price--we've stated our price."


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## jkason (Oct 21, 2005)

Weel's first impulse is to hand over the rest of the gold, but of course, that's why he asked Caradoc to do the negotiating. He bites his lip and waits for the merchant's son to make the judgment with his much better diplomatic skills.


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 24, 2005)

Caradoc nods in response to the merchant, weighing the chance that he's making himself out to be more secure than he really is, but keeping in mind the fact that the group will soon be on the selling-end of a transaction with him.  He decides to try and throw Granthus off-guard in hopes of feeling him out better.
"Of course. Now, not to change horses in mid-stream as it were, but I just recalled that we have a number of items - Weel, would you show him the wand and greatsword? - that we would be willing to sell, the quality of which has been verified by the magus Ventruli of Ritter Helm's retinue. A fine blade, and a wand which may invoke Aurelian's Magic Missle; I'm sure you regularly trade in such equipment, this being a military establishment - what would you give us for either of these?"


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## jkason (Oct 25, 2005)

Weel produces the wand first, handing it over to Caradoc and standing aside to let the man wheel and deal.


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## Rhialto (Oct 26, 2005)

Granthus nods.  "Well, such a deal must be handled by Master Gyse."   Granthus steps back to the stocky man slumbering at his desk, and gives him a shake.  "Master Gyse, some gentlemen have some items they wish to sell you."

The rheumy-eyed Kessel Gyse awakens, with a yawn.  "Sell?  By the Reaper's Dark Hideyhole, Granthus, like I told you, I'm not taking any worthless garbage.  These mountain bandits aren't getting money for the trash their forefathers stole thinking it was valuable..."

"These are soldiers, sir," says Granthus.  

Kessel frowns.  "Soldiers, bandits--what's the difference?  Tell them no!"

"They are selling a greatsword of some value, and a magic wand," notes Granthus.  "Both items might be worth the investment..."

Kessel sneezes, then blinks.  "Well, bring them here."   He glances at Granthus.  "And you prepare to verify the wand."

Granthus bows.  "I shall do so immediately."

Kessel glances at the recruits, and then waves them forward, as he takes a  pair of glasses and places them on his eyes.


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## jkason (Oct 26, 2005)

Weel has the presence of mind not to admit he's no real skill at appraising their loot, but rather presents the greatsword once the wand's been given over into Granthus' care.


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## Rhialto (Oct 27, 2005)

Kessel regards the sword minutely for a while, then nods.  Shortly thereafter, Granthus returns with the wand, nodding.  "Genuine, and fully charged."

Kessel nods as he hears Granthus's report, then regards the recruits calmly.  "A hundred for the sword, fifty for the wand."  He folds his heavily ringed hands before him.  "That is my offer."


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## jkason (Oct 28, 2005)

Weel raises an eyebrow at the prices, but says nothing. He looks to Caradoc to see if the more experience negotiator thinks they might be able to haggle a better price.


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## Bloodcookie (Oct 29, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kessel regards the sword minutely for a while, then nods.  Shortly thereafter, Granthus returns with the wand, nodding.  "Genuine, and fully charged."
> 
> Kessel nods as he hears Granthus's report, then regards the recruits calmly.  "A hundred for the sword, fifty for the wand."  He folds his heavily ringed hands before him.  "That is my offer."




OOC: If it's alright, I'll assume my ranks in Appraise and general mercantile background let me know what the items would normally be worth 

"Ah... well, that is certainly a fair price for the sword, and we will accept it. As for the wand, however... I must ask, is there so little demand for such? If it would not be worth your while to offer a price nearer the market value, while I would certainly sympathize, we may be inclined to wait until we come across more eager buyers."
Caradoc steeples his fingers and arches his eybrows in the universal signal for "the ball's in your court".


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## Rhialto (Oct 29, 2005)

Kessel's flabby lips spread in a grotesque grin.  "HA!  Listen to him, Granthus!  The mountain boy has spunk!"  He frowns.  "I hate spunk.  Now, listen to me, child--I am probably the only person buying objects of this nature in New Holyhall at the moment.  I am the representive of the Merchant Emporium, and a head of the Gyse family--one of the oldest families in the Traders' Compact.  I am being generous in my prices, because, in all honesty, I could pay you whatever I want, and you would have little choice but to accept it."  He smiles again, though now there is an edge of malice in it.  "In fact--for your insolence--50 gold eagles is my buying price for the sword now."


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## jkason (Oct 30, 2005)

Weel frowns at the reduced offer, and decides to play spoiler. He grabs both the sword and the wand, and puts on his most polite, somberly priestly face.

"We lost a good soldier in the battle where we claimed these. Almost two," here he glances at Alan. "The more I think about it, the more I think it better we keep them for a time to remind us what this war may cost us, rather than toss them away for a small bag of gold."


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## mps42 (Nov 2, 2005)

*Graevel*

Graevel continues to wander the ten-lined avenues of the makeshift city, lost in his own thoughts.


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## Rhialto (Nov 2, 2005)

Graevel:

[sblock]As Graevel walks, he's startled when one of the wild Nibelungen--a Cobnyeu, is what a true Hob calls them--bumps into him, and then scurries away, without even an apology.  

He thinks nothing of it at first--but then realizes his purse is gone.[/sblock]


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## mps42 (Nov 4, 2005)

*Graevel, Nibelungen sorcerer lvl 0*

[sblock] "Rust and rot!" Graevel swears as he realizes his coin purse is missing. With a few other choice words, he looks about trying to spot the cretinous Cobnyeu if he can.

OOC: If he can spot him / her/ it, he will begin following as inconspicuously as possible. If not, Graevel will turn and stomp angrily back to the Emporium doing his best to memorize the face of the thief.[/sblock]


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## Bloodcookie (Nov 5, 2005)

"Certainly, the priest's sense of propriety is quite correct," Caradoc quickly adds, following Weel's lead. "In any case, we have need of one of your superior-quality tents. That will conclude our business for now," he states flatly, pushing ten gold coins toward the merchant.


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## Rhialto (Nov 5, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock] "Rust and rot!" Graevel swears as he realizes his coin purse is missing. With a few other choice words, he looks about trying to spot the cretinous Cobnyeu if he can.
> 
> OOC: If he can spot him / her/ it, he will begin following as inconspicuously as possible. If not, Graevel will turn and stomp angrily back to the Emporium doing his best to memorize the face of the thief.[/sblock]





[sblock]Fortunately, stealth is not this pickpocket's specialty.  You easily spot the Cob rushing through the crowd, and into a large purple tent at the edge of the street.[/sblock]


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## Rhialto (Nov 5, 2005)

Bloodcookie said:
			
		

> "Certainly, the priest's sense of propriety is quite correct," Caradoc quickly adds, following Weel's lead. "In any case, we have need of one of your superior-quality tents. That will conclude our business for now," he states flatly, pushing ten gold coins toward the merchant.




Kessel, with a nod, accepts the coins, and glances at Granthus.  The majordomo responds by quickly bringing a packet to the group, which he hands to them with a flourish.  Kessel nods, and then glances at the recruits.  "Well, you got what you came for.  Now out of the Emporium."


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## mps42 (Nov 5, 2005)

*Graevel Kerd*

[sblock] Graevel will follow, not too close. Then, when he sees the tent, quickly circle all the way around to make sure the litte creep didn't sneak out the back (it is a tent, after all, and all you need to make another door is a well-honed dagger...)
 Then, once he is reasonably sure the Cobnyeu is still in the tent, he will look about to find the nearest shop and ask whos' tent it is.[/sblock]


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## jkason (Nov 6, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kessel, with a nod, accepts the coins, and glances at Granthus.  The majordomo responds by quickly bringing a packet to the group, which he hands to them with a flourish.  Kessel nods, and then glances at the recruits.  "Well, you got what you came for.  Now out of the Emporium."




Once back on the streets, Weel tells Caradoc, "Sorry about that. Just looked to me like we weren't going to get a decent price on the goods. The Emporium seems to be enjoying a monopoly, I suppose."

The priest pulls out three gold coins and extends them to the merchant's son. "For my share of the tent," he adds. "Which I suppose we should get back and set up if we want to have a place to sleep tonight. Graevel looks like he's wandered off on his own again, but I'm sure he'll wander back eventually." 

Assuming the others don't have other errands, Weel heads back to the campground.


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## Rhialto (Nov 7, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock] Graevel will follow, not too close. Then, when he sees the tent, quickly circle all the way around to make sure the litte creep didn't sneak out the back (it is a tent, after all, and all you need to make another door is a well-honed dagger...)
> Then, once he is reasonably sure the Cobnyeu is still in the tent, he will look about to find the nearest shop and ask whos' tent it is.[/sblock]





Graevel:

[sblock]As Graevel circles round the tent, he hears the sound of a frenzied discussion in Nibelungen.  He can't make out the words, exactly, which seem to be in a strange dialect, but it is the tongue of his people.[/sblock]


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## Rhialto (Nov 8, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Once back on the streets, Weel tells Caradoc, "Sorry about that. Just looked to me like we weren't going to get a decent price on the goods. The Emporium seems to be enjoying a monopoly, I suppose."
> 
> The priest pulls out three gold coins and extends them to the merchant's son. "For my share of the tent," he adds. "Which I suppose we should get back and set up if we want to have a place to sleep tonight. Graevel looks like he's wandered off on his own again, but I'm sure he'll wander back eventually."
> 
> Assuming the others don't have other errands, Weel heads back to the campground.





*Weel*:

[sblock]Heading back to the barracks, Weel is surprised to pass a group of forty or so individuals dancing in a large field.  Well, 'dancing' might not be the right term--they instead cycle between various positions in a flowing, graceful manner.  One three-quarters the group carry greatswords--the other seem to be completely unarmed.  As they exercise, one of the unarmed one chants ritually.  "I am--a ship upon the sea.  I am the sea that carries the ship.  I am the sea where dwells the shark.  I am the shark who lives in sea...."  A banner showing a black hand waves over them.

As Weel passes them, he is surprised to see Ritter Helm arguing with a tall Aguiran woman carrying a greatsword on her back, standing away from the others.

"--And I think you should recall what we paid you for, Kithera!" bellows Helm.

"We were paid to fight for your 'Emperor', and to die for him--and that is exactly what we did," notes Kithera.  "In great numbers, I may add."

Helm peevishly crosses his arms.  "So much for the legendary 'Society'..."  Glancing over he notices Weel, and stares in shock.

Kithera glares at him.  "Even we are only as effective as the leaders we follow.   Why--"   Noticing Helm's silence, she follows his gaze.  "Who's that?"

Helm coughs.  "One of the new recruits."  He bows.  "Master Weel.  Lady Kithera and I were just discussing certain matters of--military discipline."  Both manage a rather embarassed glance at each other.  "I hope you are enjoying youself here."[/sblock]

*Izara*:

[sblock]The steady voice of Chanter Rel rings out as the Society of the Slaying Hand, both Fist and Sword, goes through their paces.  "I am--a ship upon the sea.  I am the sea that carries the ship.  I am the sea where dwells the shark.  I am the shark who lives in sea...."  Izara listens to the old sacred Chant, losing herself in it, as any good Janissary would.  Despite the distraction.

This week's exercise had gone perfectly well--until Ritter Helm had come to complain to Lady Kithera about how little the Society were doing.  Izara frowned.  Didn't the fool realize how vital their practice was?  Apparently not, as they'd all spent the last ten minutes listening to him recycle old complaints.  "You were given a great deal of money, your damn, black Slaying Hand, and I think you should recall what we paid you for, Kithera!" he bellows.

"We were paid to fight for your 'Emperor', and to die for him--and that is exactly what we did," notes Kithera.  "In great numbers, I may add."

Smiling to herself, Izara turns back to focus on the Chant.  "I am a bird upon the wind!  I am the wind that holds the bird!  I am a wind that moves the grass!  I am the grass the wind moves!  I am the grass the sword does cut!  I am the sword that cuts the grass!  I am--the sword that spills the blood!  I am the blood, spilt by swords.  All are me!  All I see!  All these things are me!"

Glancing over, Izara notices that a young man has approached Helm and the Lady, and is apparently talking with them.  Well, at least they're talking with him.[/sblock]


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## jkason (Nov 8, 2005)

[sblock]Weel bows back to both. "Ritter Helm, Lady Kithera. An honor." Then he smiles easily. Buying and selling goods he doesn't understand. This is right up his alley; it's like being back in the middle of a dispute between the various work crews on a new road project.

"Contract negotiations are often heated and difficult for both contractor and contracted. If they weren't, you'd have to wonder if the opposite party had the passion to be worth your time, wouldn't you?

"And we're doing fine, I think, Ritter. Just been to the Emporium. Good for tent-finding, not so good for recognizing the worth of a weapon," he adds wryly, indicating the greatsword he's strapped to his backpack. [/sblock]


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## Nephtys (Nov 8, 2005)

Izara continues to go trough the movements, making her way slowly and gradually towards the conversation while appearing to remain focused on her exersices.
 The Empire wouldn't dare to move openly against the Society, they had too many enemies already to make another one. And the society had fulfilled the bargain, as far as she knew (which admittedly wasn't much more than conjecture), at least to some extent. 
"I am the blood, the taste of steel! I am the steel that splits the skin. I am the skin that binds the void! I am the void, defines what's real! I am what's real! I am all!"
She moves closer, and listens. She was eager to finally end her long years of preparation and enter the world once more.


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## Rhialto (Nov 8, 2005)

*Weel:*

[sblock]Ritter Helm laughs.  "Ah, Master Weel, you demonstrate a mind more piercing then you often let on.  Agreed--passion is what drives negotiations."

Kithera snorts.  "Coin is what drives negotiations.  Passion prolongs them."  Glancing to the side, she suddenly snaps to attention.  "Izara!  Come here, girl."[/sblock]

*Izara:*

[sblock]The conversation having turned quiet, she hears only the end of it as she approaches.  "--prolongs them."  And then suddenly Kithera's eyes are on her.  "Izara!  Come here, girl."

(OOC:  You're not serving the Syran Empire--you're serving a claimant to the throne, Prince Guy.  You're at their camp New Holyhall, in the Iron Mountains.  You were beaten--badly--and are now holed up here.  You yourself saw very little fighting.))[/sblock]


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## Nephtys (Nov 9, 2005)

ooc: Ok.

-
Izara pauses in mid-movement and gracefully sheathes her heavy sword on her back before turning openly to Kithara. Walking over to the pair (ooc: what's Kiara's rank?) she bows to Kiara, answering her with a formal "Yes Mistress."


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## mps42 (Nov 9, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Graevel:
> 
> [sblock]As Graevel circles round the tent, he hears the sound of a frenzied discussion in Nibelungen.  He can't make out the words, exactly, which seem to be in a strange dialect, but it is the tongue of his people.[/sblock]



[sblock]
 Assuming no-one is willing or able to provide information on who the tent belongs to, Graevel will wander up right next to the tents' opening and yell "Anyone seen a misreable little rat of a Cobnyeu around here? He seems to have lost something and I aim to return it."
[/SBLOCK]


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## Rhialto (Nov 9, 2005)

Nephtys said:
			
		

> ooc: Ok.
> 
> -
> Izara pauses in mid-movement and gracefully sheathes her heavy sword on her back before turning openly to Kithara. Walking over to the pair (ooc: what's Kiara's rank?) she bows to Kiara, answering her with a formal "Yes Mistress."




Kithara smiles at her.  "Tell me girl, what have you been told about a Janissary's ears?"

(OOC: Kithara is head of this group.  Her formal Rank is called Mistress of Battles.)


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 9, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock]
> Assuming no-one is willing or able to provide information on who the tent belongs to, Graevel will wander up right next to the tents' opening and yell "Anyone seen a misreable little rat of a Cobnyeu around here? He seems to have lost something and I aim to return it."
> [/SBLOCK]




*Graevel*:

[sblock]Asking a few questions about the tent causes Graevel to get some dirty stares.  Finally, going in, Graevel is surprised to see several young Cobnyeus, including the one who took his coinpurse being yelled at by an older Nibelungen, whose pale skin and light blue eyes mark him as a Dvarro.  

"--ye part-blooded scum!  Is this the best ye can steal!" [/sblock]


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 9, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kithara smiles at her.  "Tell me girl, what have you been told about a Janissary's ears?"
> 
> (OOC: Kithara is head of this group.  Her formal Rank is called Mistress of Battles.)




Izara keeps her head down respectfully, but meets Kithara's eyes, "I have been told, Mistress, to always listen for both danger and opportunities. A Janissary's eyes and ears are her strongest weapon and her first line of defense."


----------



## jkason (Nov 9, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt, wondering if the dressing-down here is for his benefit--a show of force by proxy, maybe? While Weel knew he was a brawny sort, he never thought he cut such and imposing figure that people would need to show him his place pre-emptively.


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 9, 2005)

Kithara continues to smile fondly at Izara, while her body language remains imposing.  "This is true, Izara.  But we are also told to focus both eyes and ears at the task at hand, and not to be distracted by trivialities."


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 9, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Kithara continues to smile fondly at Izara, while her body language remains imposing.  "This is true, Izara.  But we are also told to focus both eyes and ears at the task at hand, and not to be distracted by trivialities."




"Yes Mistress," she bows, "I was simply intrigued by the esteemed gentleman in your company." she extends a bow to him as well. _Fool or not, ignoring him would be impolite. And even foolish men often have other interesting aspects. Especially foolish men._ "And, I must admit, somewhat restless at our present confinement." she adds.
"I shall endeavor to improve both my focus and my shamefully poor skills of subtlety."  She smiles, but maintains a respectful posture.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 10, 2005)

Caradoc jogs up behind Weel, and attempts to casually direct his attention away from the somewhat awkward exchange he has walked in upon, waiting for the two women to conclude before introducing himself.


----------



## mps42 (Nov 10, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> *Graevel*:
> 
> [sblock]Asking a few questions about the tent causes Graevel to get some dirty stares.  Finally, going in, Graevel is surprised to see several young Cobnyeus, including the one who took his coinpurse being yelled at by an older Nibelungen, whose pale skin and light blue eyes mark him as a Dvarro.
> 
> "--ye part-blooded scum!  Is this the best ye can steal!" [/sblock]




[sblock]
 "I don't know that I would blame him. The people in this... _city_ are a poor lot. Maybe thievery isn't the line of work you should be in." He says to the Dvarro.
Turning to the Cobyneu, "In any case, Cob, I suggest you return what you took."[/sblock]


----------



## jkason (Nov 10, 2005)

*Weel*



			
				Nephtys said:
			
		

> "Yes Mistress," she bows, "I was simply intrigued by the esteemed gentleman in your company."




Weel bows himself, though he can't help but chuckle. "You flatter me, lady, as there is little to esteem in me. I am Weel, a mere freeman who's signed on to this army to do what little my handyman's skills can." 

As Caradoc comes along, Weel can't help but jab a thumb in his direction. "Now Caradoc, on the other hand, has the refinement of a gentleman if you're looking," he says, smiling wryly as he deflects to his more silver-tongued companion.

"Caradoc, allow me to introduce Mistress Kithara and ... was it Izara?" he says, making with the introductions.


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 11, 2005)

She smiles back at him, and glances apologetically at Mistress Kithara "Ah, the other esteemed gentleman... I hope you'll forgive me, but I meant to indicate sir Ritter Helm with my remark. Naturally, though, you are equally intriguing."  
She bows again, a shallow less formal bow than the one she gave to the Mistress, when introductions are made, "Izara it is, a pleasure to meet you."


----------



## jkason (Nov 11, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel blushes at his misunderstanding. "When you assume and all that, I guess. Still, well met, Izara.

"Ritter Helm, if you've no further need of us, I believe we need to find a place to set up our tent. Hopefully, Graevel will have managed to wind his way back by then. And Alan, wherever he wandered off to. I hope he hasn't gotten himself entangled with that shapechanger again... "


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 12, 2005)

"A pleasure to make your acquaintence as well," Caradoc says, returning the bow,"as it always is to find an ally in time of strife." He turns and bows to the woman he ascertains to be Izara's superior,"M'lady."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 12, 2005)

Kithara smiles.  "Well, gentlemen, I welcome you to the Army of the True Emperor."   She says this last bit with a slight roll of her eyes.  She looks the recruits over.  "You know, this camp can be a dangerous place for the unwary."   She glances at her underling.  "Izara.  Accompany these recruits around New Holyhall.  Consider it penance for your spying."   She smiles down at the girl.  "Remember, child, a Janissary does not spy--unless paid to do it."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 12, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock]
> "I don't know that I would blame him. The people in this... _city_ are a poor lot. Maybe thievery isn't the line of work you should be in." He says to the Dvarro.
> Turning to the Cobyneu, "In any case, Cob, I suggest you return what you took."[/sblock]




*Graevel:*

[sblock]The Dvarro seems completely surprised, and glares at the Cob that took Graevel's coinpurse.  "Paig, ye fool!  I told ye to only take from the Tall Folk!  Not our kin!"

"He is tall, sir..."  begins Paig, clearly frightened.

"He is a Nibelungen!  Return his purse!"    Paig nods, frantically, and returns it to Graevel.  The Dvarro bows.  "My apologies, kinsman.  I'm afraid years above ground have turned me into a scavenger.   Thegn Vindar y Valla, born to the Dvarro, but now a member of the Hobyea."  He shakes his head ruefully.  "Though I'm afraid I handle the Exile worse than ye who've been at it longer.  Truly, the treachery of the Bressa knows no end."[/sblock]


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 12, 2005)

Izara blushes slightly, "Yes, Mistress." bows again and departs with the two men.
 Once out of Kithara's hearing-range she speaks again, "You've made quite a daring decision joining this army. Apparently the war has been going rather badly... Not that there's no chance of turning it around. But the situation certainly looks difficult, though the rewards are all the greater for it."

ooc: What does Izara know about the war, the Empire and her current location?


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 12, 2005)

Nephtys said:
			
		

> Izara blushes slightly, "Yes, Mistress." bows again and departs with the two men. "The New Holyhall is not very far from here, follow me if you please."
> Once out of Kithara's hearing-range she speaks again, "You've made quite a daring decision joining this army. Apparently the war has been going rather badly... Not that there's no chance of turning it around. But the situation certainly looks difficult, though the rewards are all the greater for it."
> 
> ooc: What does Izara know about the war, the Empire and her current location?




[sblock]((OOC: New Holyhall IS her location--Holyhall is the palace Guy possessed back in Syra, the camp having been acquired the nickname "New Holyhall"..  Prince Guy has lost almost every significant battle, and is now a virtual non-entity, hidden the Iron Mountains.  His opponent, Emperor Geraint I "Geraint the Unlikely" was the bastard son of the former Emperor, youngest of seven sons--the other six were legitimate--and being trained quietly for the priesthood of Turhan.  However, five of his brothers died--one naturally, three being murdered, and the second-youngest in battle--while the sixth was disowned and exiled, as he was the murderer.  Gaheris took a fatal wound in the battle that killed his last clear heir--and called Geraint to his side, bequeathing to Geraint the Imperial Sword.  Afterwards, the throne came into dispute, as Guy--nephew and son-in-law--declared he had a stronger claim than Geraint--illegitmate son.  While the original plan was to call a meeting of Margraves to handle the matter, Guy struck first calling on the Society of the Slaying Hand and his own troops to win him the throne.  Geraint fled Syra Cae--only to return six months later with an army at his back.  Now he sits on the throne--while Guy sits in defiance in the Iron Mountains.  He has gathered some support--the proud Ogre chieftain Etzel, warring to save his people from the Goblins of Vathek.  And all those who live in desperation in the Mountains, as well as opportunists, who suspect Guy's going to be here for a long, long time.

The Society remains.  A contract is a contract.  They will win Guy his throne--or die trying.[/sblock]


----------



## mps42 (Nov 12, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> *Graevel:*
> 
> [sblock]The Dvarro seems completely surprised, and glares at the Cob that took Graevel's coinpurse.  "Paig, ye fool!  I told ye to only take from the Tall Folk!  Not our kin!"
> 
> ...



[sblock]
 "Valla, Make no mistake, I'm not pleased to be in this... _city_. But, it's me own fault. opened me mouth and stuck in both feet. I'm good at that.
 "It's good to see even a Dvarro and a Cob. All the tall men make me nervous. 'specially with me 'talent'...
 "Bah! Rust and rot forget I said that! I'll be taking my purse and leaving."

ooc: I'm assuming that the cultures of Dvarro, Cobnyeus and Nibelungen are similar enough that I can address him by just his last name...
[/sblock]


----------



## jkason (Nov 14, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				Nephtys said:
			
		

> "You've made quite a daring decision joining this army. Apparently the war has been going rather badly... Not that there's no chance of turning it around. But the situation certainly looks difficult, though the rewards are all the greater for it."




"Yes, I think we were a bit overly-spontaneous in our joining. Much as he's a curmudgen, Graevel seems to have had the right of it for his doubts," Weel says as the three move toward the field where he can set up the tent. "But we signed our names--all for our own reasons--and there's no backing out now. Just a lot of praying that we make it out the other end of this campaign in one piece."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 14, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock]
> "Valla, Make no mistake, I'm not pleased to be in this... _city_. But, it's me own fault. opened me mouth and stuck in both feet. I'm good at that.
> "It's good to see even a Dvarro and a Cob. All the tall men make me nervous. 'specially with me 'talent'...
> "Bah! Rust and rot forget I said that! I'll be taking my purse and leaving."
> ...




*Graevel:*

[sblock]((OOC: Actually, Vindar would be a better choice.  It's actually his name, while Valla is his clan.))

Vindar blinks.  "Your--talent?"   He raises a pair of spectacles on his jacket to his eyes and regards Graevel for a moment.  "Ahh!  Yes!  I see!  Are ye a Scholar then, like myself, or--"   He blinks again, then laughs.  "Dear me--do not tell me--a Blooded Sorcerer among the Hobyea!"   He shakes his head.  "My poor lad--that must be a burden.  The Power of the Bressa--possessed by a member of the Exile.  You must get quite a bit of unwanted attention..."[/sblock]


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 14, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> "Yes, I think we were a bit overly-spontaneous in our joining. Much as he's a curmudgen, Graevel seems to have had the right of it for his doubts," Weel says as the three move toward the field where he can set up the tent. "But we signed our names--all for our own reasons--and there's no backing out now. Just a lot of praying that we make it out the other end of this campaign in one piece."




Izara continues to engage in small-talk, while guiding the men trough the complex. "Ah, I hear you are a religious man. I'm afraid that's a matter I am unfamiliar with. May I ask which gods you serve?"


----------



## jkason (Nov 15, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Looking furtively to Caradoc, Weel deflects with "Ah, but the Society's ways are soulful and spiritual, are they not? It seems to me there is a kind of bodily prayer in the rituals I just witnessed, yes, a communing with the world and the power it holds?"

OOC:[sblock]While the party members have seen Weel perform divine magic, he hasn't let the army in on his abilities, since he worships Thraunos, a god from the rival nation of Archea. He's not sure how that'll fly in the Syran army. Give him a little while to learn to trust Izara, though, and I'm sure he'll open up.  [/sblock]


----------



## mps42 (Nov 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> *Graevel:*
> 
> [sblock]((OOC: Actually, Vindar would be a better choice.  It's actually his name, while Valla is his clan.))
> 
> Vindar blinks.  "Your--talent?"   He raises a pair of spectacles on his jacket to his eyes and regards Graevel for a moment.  "Ahh!  Yes!  I see!  Are ye a Scholar then, like myself, or--"   He blinks again, then laughs.  "Dear me--do not tell me--a Blooded Sorcerer among the Hobyea!"   He shakes his head.  "My poor lad--that must be a burden.  The Power of the Bressa--possessed by a member of the Exile.  You must get quite a bit of unwanted attention..."[/sblock]




[sblock]
 "Ye have no idea. 'specially since it crops up when I want it least.
 "I'll take up no more of yer time, Vindar. And you, Me little Cob, would be wise to either be more carefull who you pilfer from or practise yer gitaways. If I kin foller yeh, most anyone could."
 Assuming Vindar and the Cobnyea have now more to say, Graevel will wander back towards the Emporium to see if his fellow recruits are about.
[/sblock]


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 15, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Looking furtively to Caradoc, Weel deflects with "Ah, but the Society's ways are soulful and spiritual, are they not? It seems to me there is a kind of bodily prayer in the rituals I just witnessed, yes, a communing with the world and the power it holds?"




Izara ponders his question. "I have not really considered our rituals acts of religion, but more a meditative way to enhance our awareness of the world by weakening the internal barriers between ourselves and our surroundings. It is teorized that by weakening those mental barriers we will be able to interact swifter and more effectively with the rest of the world, particularly when it comes to combat.
 Our philosophy centers on ourselves as parts of the world, but doesn't take divine beings into more than a very general account. We do not dwell on such questions as an afterlife, divine absolutes and active worship, though some chapters of our organization have sadly blurred the issues somewhat. The gods divide the world that we try to see holistically."  

ooc: Rhialto, this is all obviously pulled out of the air but since I haven't found any information about Jannissary philosophy I figured it wouldn't do any harm making it up myself. If it clashes with your vision I'll gladly change it.


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 15, 2005)

Nephtys said:
			
		

> Izara ponders his question. "I have not really considered our rituals acts of religion, but more a meditative way to enhance our awareness of the world by weakening the internal barriers between ourselves and our surroundings. It is teorized that by weakening those mental barriers we will be able to interact swifter and more effectively with the rest of the world, particularly when it comes to combat.
> Our philosophy centers on ourselves as parts of the world, but doesn't take divine beings into more than a very general account. We do not dwell on such questions as an afterlife, divine absolutes and active worship, though some chapters of our organization have sadly blurred the issues somewhat. The gods divide the world that we try to see holistically."
> 
> ooc: Rhialto, this is all obviously pulled out of the air but since I haven't found any information about Jannissary philosophy I figured it wouldn't do any harm making it up myself. If it clashes with your vision I'll gladly change it.




OOC:  Actually--that sums it up beautifully.  The Society is ruled by Monks and Janissaries who really prefer to keep the Gods out of things.  If the Slaying Hand worships anything, it's duty.


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 15, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> OOC:  Actually--that sums it up beautifully.  The Society is ruled by Monks and Janissaries who really prefer to keep the Gods out of things.  If the Slaying Hand worships anything, it's duty.




ooc:
Thanks , it seemed to fit into the far-eastern flavour of the Society.


----------



## jkason (Nov 15, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel smiles. "Worship--at least in my experience--is about giving yourself up to something greater than yourself. In the case of the Society, that's the world at large. Probably more druidic than something you'd find at most temples, but certainly a strong spiritual philosophy."

As they wander closer to camp, he points.

"We should probably get our tent set up before it gets too late."

OOC:[sblock]Know (architecture & engineering) or Craft (construction) check to find a good, solid place to set up? Both have the same bonus (+6), so I don't know that it matters which one.[/sblock]


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 15, 2005)

It doesn't take very long for Weel to find a nice site, though glares follow the group as they begin to setup their tent.

They're about half-way finished when a large ogre approaches their tent.  "Lord Etzel invites new men to feast!" he bellows.


----------



## jkason (Nov 15, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

"Ogre leader. We met one of his representatives when we arrived," Weel whispers to Izara to catch her up to speed.

While the question of ogre cuisine bothers him for a moment, Weel figures he's had his fair share of road crew slop, enough that his stomach ought to be decently capable of dealing with a lot. Besides, standard army fare surely can't be that wonderful to begin with; might as well get some variety in the diet while he can. 

"We're honored," Weel says to the emissary, bowing his head. "Have we time to finish raising our tent before the feast?"


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 15, 2005)

The ogre bows.  "Many hours.  Etzel wish long life and much killing on you."


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 15, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel smiles. "Worship--at least in my experience--is about giving yourself up to something greater than yourself. In the case of the Society, that's the world at large. ...




She returns his smile, enjoying the conversation.

"That would depend on where one draws the line. Ideally, there is no difference between the self and the rest of the universe. Can you give yourself up to something you are already an integral part of? And conversely, is not the worship of deities an externalization and personification of our own internal needs? I suppose that does make our philosophies rather similar, since they both draw on the self in a desire for transendence. But my analysis is probably flawed, my education is far more martial than it is philosophical." She smiles apologetically, and quiets at the arrival of the messenger.



			
				jkason said:
			
		

> "Ogre leader. We met one of his representatives when we arrived," Weel whispers to Izara to catch her up to speed.
> 
> ...
> 
> "We're honored," Weel says to the emissary, bowing his head. "Have we time to finish raising our tent before the feast?"




"I don't think the invitation extends to me, but you are as likely to need my protection at the feast as you are anywhere else. Drunken ogres can be rough company. I shall attempt to accompany you, if that is your wish."


----------



## jkason (Nov 16, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				Nephtys said:
			
		

> "I don't think the invitation extends to me, but you are as likely to need my protection at the feast as you are anywhere else. Drunken ogres can be rough company. I shall attempt to accompany you, if that is your wish."




Weel nods. "I think you'd be welcome company. My companions and I went and joined an army without any of us having real martial experience. Someone who know what she's doing when trouble starts is probably a component sorely lacking in our little group."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 18, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> [sblock]
> "Ye have no idea. 'specially since it crops up when I want it least.
> "I'll take up no more of yer time, Vindar. And you, Me little Cob, would be wise to either be more carefull who you pilfer from or practise yer gitaways. If I kin foller yeh, most anyone could."
> Assuming Vindar and the Cobnyea have now more to say, Graevel will wander back towards the Emporium to see if his fellow recruits are about.
> [/sblock]




*Graevel*:
[sblock]Vindar nods as Graevel walks away.  "Please come again.  We can exchange news--perhaps I can even give you some training in your errant gift."  Returning to the Emporium, Graevel discovers that his companions have left.  After awhile, he decides to return to the campsite, where he finds Weel and Caradoc erecting a tent with a serious young woman wearing a greatsword.[/sblock]

Graevel joins his fellows at camp shortly after the ogre leaves.


----------



## jkason (Nov 18, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

"Graevel! Over here!" Weel says, waving to the Niebelung. "We went with the better tent. Almost done setting it up. And we found a new friend." Weel indicates each person as he introduces them: "Graevel, this is Izara. Izara, our wayward companion Graevel."


----------



## mps42 (Nov 18, 2005)

Graevel looks at the new arrival with a questioning look but says nothing. "Why this tent instead of a less expensive one? True, it's bigger but that don't mean better."


----------



## jkason (Nov 18, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				mps42 said:
			
		

> Graevel looks at the new arrival with a questioning look but says nothing. "Why this tent instead of a less expensive one? True, it's bigger but that don't mean better."




Weel sighs and does his best to smile. "And now you've experienced the joyful optimism that is our Graevel," he mutters to Izara.

"Well, bereft of your wisdom and negotiating skill, poor Caradoc and I did what we could," Weel returns, shrugging. He returns to setting up the tent, adding off-handedly, "Where did you wander off to, anyway? And did you happen to see Alan on your little solo trek?"


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 18, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> "Well, bereft of your wisdom and negotiating skill, poor Caradoc and I did what we could"




Caradoc sighs, muttering "I go in there expecting a leprechaun, and meet a red dragon instead... never had a chance..."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 21, 2005)

The ogre returns at this point.  "Ready for feast?"


----------



## jkason (Nov 21, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel brushes his hands off on his legs, smiling at his handiwork. Then he turns to the ogre.

"Indeed. A long day's belly needs filling, I think." He turns to the others. "Let's go feast, yes?"


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 21, 2005)

Caradoc nods to Weel, "Yes, I believe a bit of boisterous bread-breaking with our behemoth brethren will help squelch the lingering memory of the day's defeats and disappointments. Lead the way, good ogre!"


----------



## Nephtys (Nov 22, 2005)

Earlier:
Izara greets Graevel with a smile, "The Mistress of Battles has assigned me to escort you and your company inside the fortress. Though I expect no true danger to befall you here at this time, it's always wise to take precautions."
Presently:
Izara follows the others, keeping a trained eye out for trouble.


----------



## mps42 (Nov 23, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel sighs and does his best to smile. "And now you've experienced the joyful optimism that is our Graevel," he mutters to Izara.
> 
> "Well, bereft of your wisdom and negotiating skill, poor Caradoc and I did what we could," Weel returns, shrugging. He returns to setting up the tent, adding off-handedly, "Where did you wander off to, anyway? And did you happen to see Alan on your little solo trek?"




Graevel gives a Harumph and says "I never said I could do better, just askin why this one.
 "As for where I went, I walked around a lot. Had some thinkin ta do. and no, I didn't see Alan."
 "I s'pose you'll all be headin off ta this feast, eh? well, good luck ta ya."


----------



## jkason (Nov 23, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				mps42 said:
			
		

> Graevel gives a Harumph and says "I never said I could do better, just askin why this one.
> "As for where I went, I walked around a lot. Had some thinkin ta do. and no, I didn't see Alan."
> "I s'pose you'll all be headin off ta this feast, eh? well, good luck ta ya."




Weel sighs, then says patiently, "Graevel, the invitation was extended to all of us. Come have some food, why don't you?"


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 23, 2005)

The ogre blinks.

"Nibelung not come?  Many other Nibelungen there!  Quite a few girl Nibelungen!  Maybe they want strong husband, eh?"


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 24, 2005)

Caradoc spreads his hands and smiles at Graevel, and says to him in Nibelungen:

[sblock]"We've fought together, come close to death together, why not eat together? We might come to understand one another better under less grim circumstances."[/sblock]


----------



## mps42 (Nov 24, 2005)

*Graevel*

Graevel looks at Caradoc in surprise and replies "You know ground-speak? I would not have guessed this of you. 
"You're right, of course. I'm sorry. Me mam used to say 'Many hands make light work and many hearts make light spirits'. I know I could use some light spirits right now. 
 "thank you for the invitation, all of yeh." Turning to the ogre "As fer strong husbands, thats another barrel of fish altogether."


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 28, 2005)

Leading the group through the camp, the ogre crosses out of the barracks, through the streets, until they find themselves in another tent city--this one full of Ogres, Nibelungen Cobyneu, and rather savage looking men, with quite a few Half-Goblins in evidence.  The barbarians lounge around fires, eating boar, catamount, and goat.  At the end of the camp is a great table at which sit, among others, Count Meer, Ruedegar, a young Sleurithian woman, with short-cut silver hair, clad in rust-red robes, an grey-haired ogre in a suit of heavy armor, and an ogre clad in rich robes, an impressive horned headdress on his head.


----------



## jkason (Nov 29, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

"Are we meant to be going to the head table, then?" Weel asks, a little nervous. He gives Caradoc a sideways glance, hoping the merchant's son will take the lead if they're forced to make a good impression on the local VIPs.


----------



## Bloodcookie (Nov 30, 2005)

Caradoc straightens his posture at the sight of the table attended by local notables, and attempts to catch the eye of one of those present, in hopes of at least making his party's presence known to those more well-connected individuals.


----------



## Rhialto (Nov 30, 2005)

The ogre who lead them here gestures to the high table.  "Lord Etzel--new soldiers!  New Soldiers--Lord Etzel!  Also Harband, Priest of the Dierj, Count Meer the Exile, and The Lady of Metals!"


----------



## jkason (Nov 30, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel bows to the assemblage, holding his tongue as he wracks his brain to try to remember if he's ever heard of the Dierj or the Lady of Metals. Knowing the philosophical bent of his hosts might be essential to making sure he doesn't make any more of his characteristic social fumbles.

[sblock=OOC]Know (religion) +3 check for any info on the various religions folk[/sblock]


----------



## Rhialto (Dec 1, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> Weel bows to the assemblage, holding his tongue as he wracks his brain to try to remember if he's ever heard of the Dierj or the Lady of Metals. Knowing the philosophical bent of his hosts might be essential to making sure he doesn't make any more of his characteristic social fumbles.
> 
> [sblock=OOC]Know (religion) +3 check for any info on the various religions folk[/sblock]




[sblock]OOC: The Dierj is the Great Grey God of Ogres, Lord of Dooms, an impartial force of fate and destiny.  'The Lady of Metals' is probably a Mystic, in service of the Element of Metal.  Mystics are--an odd bunch.[/sblock]


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## Bloodcookie (Dec 2, 2005)

Caradoc bows before the assembly. "We are honored by your invitation, Lord Etzel, and, indeed, to be counted among those present here this evening," he says, gesturing to indicate the other guests.


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## mps42 (Dec 2, 2005)

Looking around and seeing mostly belts does nothing to improve Graevels sour mood. He stumps up behind Caradoc and, hearing the introductions, looks at the assemblage and mutters "Feel just a bit common for this group."


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## jkason (Dec 3, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

"We thank the fate that brought us here," Weel adds, directing his comment to all, but checking to see how well or poorly it was received by the priest.


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## Rhialto (Dec 3, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> Looking around and seeing mostly belts does nothing to improve Graevels sour mood. He stumps up behind Caradoc and, hearing the introductions, looks at the assemblage and mutters "Feel just a bit common for this group."




An attractive female Cob sitting at the high table motions for him to take a seat next to her.  "Verdea Shatterskull wants company, city dwarf!"


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## Rhialto (Dec 3, 2005)

jkason said:
			
		

> "We thank the fate that brought us here," Weel adds, directing his comment to all, but checking to see how well or poorly it was received by the priest.




Harband chuckles.  "Thank no fate, child, till it has run its course.  Many a feast ends in woe and heartache, just as many a battle ends in joy and celebration."   He offers Weel his seat.  "Come--you seem a lad interested in theological matters.  Let us talk."


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## jkason (Dec 3, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> Harband chuckles.  "Thank no fate, child, till it has run its course.  Many a feast ends in woe and heartache, just as many a battle ends in joy and celebration."   He offers Weel his seat.  "Come--you seem a lad interested in theological matters.  Let us talk."




"A priest that hasn't threatened to kill me the first time I speak? Now that's something of a novelty these days," Weel whispers wryly, then moves to take the offered seat.


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## mps42 (Dec 4, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> An attractive female Cob sitting at the high table motions for him to take a seat next to her.  "Verdea Shatterskull wants company, city dwarf!"



 Graevel notices the comely Cob and looks around as if he thinks she might be referring to someone else but, seeing no other smalls around, will wander over to the table.
 "A fine evening to yer, miss Shatterskull. Names Graevel Kord and I ain't no 'City Dwarf'. Been aboveground fer the last 20 year or so but was born in the ground just like iron."


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## Rhialto (Dec 6, 2005)

Count Meer glances at Caradoc.  "Well, nice to see you again."   He gestures to the chair next to him.  "Please, take a seat."


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## jkason (Dec 6, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*

Weel mentally chastises himself. All these new faces and names must have overwhelmed him; how else to explain not recognizing the Count who had been so ... interested in Caradoc. Trying his best to give the merchant's son a look of sympathy. If anyone has the skills to deal with the situation, though, it's Caradoc.

Deciding he'd best save their fourth before someone like Meer takes an interest, Weel turns to the priest, gesturing to Izara.

"Would it be rude of me to ask that Izara join us? She and I were just a little while ago discussing philosophies, if that's your interest."


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## Rhialto (Dec 6, 2005)

Harbrand laughs.  "On the contrary, I'd enjoy it.  Perhaps she could help settle a debate between Morenna and myself."

He gestures to the Sleurithian who'd been introduced as the Lady of Metals.


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## Bloodcookie (Dec 7, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Count Meer glances at Caradoc.  "Well, nice to see you again."   He gestures to the chair next to him.  "Please, take a seat."




Caradoc, stifling a groan, puts on a friendly smile and approaches the offered chair. _Don't jump to conclusions now, give him the benefit of the doubt_, he reminds himself. "Count Meer, what a fortuitous coincidence that we should meet here! I suppose a feast is as appropriate a place as any to enjoy that drink you'd suggested."


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## Rhialto (Dec 7, 2005)

Meer smiles, his kohl-lined eyes sparkling.  "Oh, I can't count this, my friend."  He gestures to the ogre in the headdress.  "Lord Etzel has supplied all the food and drink.  Still, perhaps if the night goes well, I can talk you into coming to my tent for a fine glass of Fisirian liqeur."  He chuckles.  "It is has been said none know the pleasures as well as the Iskerians--and of the Iskerians, none know them better than the Fisirians."   He leans back comfortably in his chair.  "So, then, Caradoc, how are you finding New Holyhall?"


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## Rhialto (Dec 7, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> Graevel notices the comely Cob and looks around as if he thinks she might be referring to someone else but, seeing no other smalls around, will wander over to the table.
> "A fine evening to yer, miss Shatterskull. Names Graevel Kord and I ain't no 'City Dwarf'. Been aboveground fer the last 20 year or so but was born in the ground just like iron."




Verdea laughs.  "City of walls or city of caves, it's still a city to the dwarfs of the wild."   She looks at Graevel interested.  "Still--you are of the Exile, are you not?  Are you from Stonehall, then?  Or the Averna depths? Or simply one of the lesser mines?"   She smiles.  "After all, I've known many Children of the Exile to be born above, like myself..."


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## jkason (Dec 7, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Harbrand laughs.  "On the contrary, I'd enjoy it.  Perhaps she could help settle a debate between Morenna and myself."
> 
> He gestures to the Sleurithian who'd been introduced as the Lady of Metals.




Knowing he's probably making a mistake, but as always unable to veer off, Weel asks as carefully and innocently as possible, "And what debate was that?"


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## Rhialto (Dec 7, 2005)

Harbrand and Morenna both smile.  "Why, my friend, it is a simple one.  Which is more important for a soldier to have?  A willingness to kill?  Or a willingness to die?" notes Harbrand wryly.


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## jkason (Dec 7, 2005)

*Weel, human cleric*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> Harbrand and Morenna both smile.  "Why, my friend, it is a simple one.  Which is more important for a soldier to have?  A willingness to kill?  Or a willingness to die?" notes Harbrand wryly.




Weel frowns thoughtfully, then says, "Is it most important that a house keep the rain off your head, hold the heat from your fireplace, or allow for a cool breeze to vent the summer's heat? 

"If a soldier is willing to kill without being willing to die, then his killing will never be of use in a pitched battle, when it needs to be, as the threat of his death will run him off. In the opposite case, he has no fear of the battlefield, but neither will he last long upon it, which does little to lead to victory. And both conditions ignore the importance that a soldier also be willing to push himself to survive a forced march to arrive at that battle, watchful so as to avoid ambush, willing to take the time to know both enemy and friend so that he strikes the right one, and a host of other needs. 

"It seems to me, then, that it is most important that a soldier be willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill his duty to protect and serve."


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## Bloodcookie (Dec 8, 2005)

Rhialto said:
			
		

> Meer smiles, his kohl-lined eyes sparkling.  "Oh, I can't count this, my friend."  He gestures to the ogre in the headdress.  "Lord Etzel has supplied all the food and drink.  Still, perhaps if the night goes well, I can talk you into coming to my tent for a fine glass of Fisirian liqeur."  He chuckles.  "It is has been said none know the pleasures as well as the Iskerians--and of the Iskerians, none know them better than the Fisirians."   He leans back comfortably in his chair.  "So, then, Caradoc, how are you finding New Holyhall?"




Caradoc mentally rolls his eyes at Meer's proposal, but makes no outward sign as he replies. "Well, I cannot complain based upon the impression it has left thus far; we have a sturdy tent, and seem to be encountering more good will than enmity. The local mercantile establishment has been... somewhat unreasonable, in my opinion, but that is almost to be expected. And yourself, Count? I am curious to hear the perceptions of one who has been here longer than myself."


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## mps42 (Dec 8, 2005)

*Graevel*



			
				Rhialto said:
			
		

> Verdea laughs.  "City of walls or city of caves, it's still a city to the dwarfs of the wild."   She looks at Graevel interested.  "Still--you are of the Exile, are you not?  Are you from Stonehall, then?  Or the Averna depths? Or simply one of the lesser mines?"   She smiles.  "After all, I've known many Children of the Exile to be born above, like myself..."



 "I suppose there is some truth in what yer sayin'. I'm of the Exile, like you said, and from one of the lesser mines.
 "So, ye were born above, then. Do you not hunger to return to the deep? Every ay abouve is one more I'll not live to see in the deep. There's nothin' like it." Graevel says wistfully.

[sblock=ooc] I hadn't actually figured that out, so...]


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## Rhialto (Dec 12, 2005)

mps42 said:
			
		

> "I suppose there is some truth in what yer sayin'. I'm of the Exile, like you said, and from one of the lesser mines.
> "So, ye were born above, then. Do you not hunger to return to the deep? Every ay abouve is one more I'll not live to see in the deep. There's nothin' like it." Graevel says wistfully.




"Hah.  Give me the heights of the mountains!  A few caves and mines to gives the weapons we need--and blessed freedom from civilization!  Then I am content!"


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