Post by Ronny Serio on Sept 12, 2014 11:38:43 GMT -6
Joaquim let out a rather undignified scream and began to scramble backwards away from the abomination as fast as he could. Springing back to his feet, Marcel stepped forward to cover his friend and brought the cultist's mace to bear.
Post by scottenkainen on Sept 15, 2014 9:35:55 GMT -6
Turn 9, rds. 1-2 for Joaquim, Marcel:
Marcel was faster than the corpse, as one usually expected in match-ups like that. He swung, but the strong corpse batted the mace away and clawed its way -- rather literally -- up Marcel. It pummeled him mercilessly as it tried to rend his armor off him.
After this went on for too long (even though it was only 30 seconds), Marcel managed to shove the corpse off him and pummeled it fiercely with the borrowed mace. The corpse took a crippling blow, but kept coming. It came right back at him, swinging with both fists balled together and striking Marcel hard. Marcel was moderately injured now...
Joaquim tried to throw himself into that mix, but the battle raged so hard between man and corpse that Joaquim was afraid of hitting Marcel in the scuffle and held back for a moment longer.
((rd. 1: Marcel's to hit: 8, to hit Marcel: 20 - 5 dmg; rd. 2: Marcel's to hit: 19 - 4 dmg, to hit Marcel: 18 - 2 dmg, Joaquim's to hit: 3))
Post by scottenkainen on Sept 16, 2014 11:45:49 GMT -6
Turn 9, rds. 3-4 for Joaquim, Marcel:
The corpse followed them to the door. Joaquim managed to scratch it with his dagger, while Marcel swung wide to miss his partner. The corpse kept trying to pummel Marcel, but Marcel's armor was too thick.
The fight spilled over out of the shack, startling bystanders. Joaquim drove his dagger deeper into the corpse, then tore his blade out. The deep gash was all the monster corpse could take and it fell over, unmoving, on the road.
((Rd. 3: Joaquim's to hit: 11 - 1 dmg, Marcel's to hit: 8, to hit Marcel: 14; rd. 4: Joaquim: 13- 2 dmg))
Post by Ronny Serio on Sept 17, 2014 14:48:53 GMT -6
"Lets load you down with all their gear," said Joaquim. "You stash it in our room; I'll wait here for whoever shows up and explain the situation."
"What if they want to know where I went?"
"I'll tell them you were injured by the undead and went to have your wounds looked at."
"Should I do that," asked Marcel, worry setting in. "Do I need to worry about something? It's not going to turn me into an undead, is it?"
"How would I know? Let us assume, however, that in order to be made into an undead, one must first be made dead. Which we have managed to avoid. I think you're safe, but lets have Caltaran see what he can do for you when we reconvene later."
"I can't argue with your logic," said Marcel with a smile and slap on Joaquim's arm. "Well that was exciting, eh?"
"No time for celebrating; get to work," said Joaquim, but he couldn't help but answer his friend's joviality with a grin of his own.
As quickly as possible, the pair stripped their defeated opponents of their valuables. Marcel strapped both pouches onto his belt (tossing the medallion into one), threw the chainmail over his shoulder, picked up the chest under one arm and lofted the mace. Assuming no authorities had yet come, Marcel left straight away to deposit the spoils in their room at the Bronze Unicorn. Joaquim pulled the dagger and sheath out of Bill's boot and placed them in his own. In a fit of compassion, he left he man his crutch, though he did search it first for anything hidden.
Once everything was accounted for, Joaquim exited the shack and waited for soldiers to arrive.
Post by scottenkainen on Sept 18, 2014 11:53:07 GMT -6
Turn 11 for Joaquim, Marcel:
"You, stop!" Marcel heard from behind him. Soldiers had come in response to hearing of the combat. Marcel could not be entirely sure they were calling out to him, as there were plenty of other people about, but the fact that Marcel was armed and carrying a small chest might have looked suspicious. Still, Marcel was almost 100' away now and had plenty of cover to hide.
Joaquim searched the crutch and found that the top of the crutch twisted open, revealing a cavity inside. Lying inside this cavity was a strip of lambskin, rolled up, and containing thieves' tools like lockpicks and a file.
Just then, Joaquim heard people outside the door and had time to roll up the lambskin and hide it, if he wished to, before the door was opened.
Post by scottenkainen on Sept 19, 2014 9:19:21 GMT -6
Turn 12 for Joaquim, Marcel:
Marcel got away.
Back at the shack, the men who burst in the door wore the church's symbol on their tabards and shields. It was a fairly large patrol of nine soldiers in the Church's Army, some of whom rotated into the shack to search it, while Joaquim saw others standing outside examining the ex-undead man and questioning passerbys.
Joaquim was asked what he knew about the kobolds, the two sleeping men and why one of them was only in his underclothes, the crutch and thieves tools, the pit under the floor, and the long-dead man outside. Joaquim had to stick around for about 12 minutes explaining all that, or waiting for someone to talk to him again, since no one had dismissed him yet from the scene.
By then, a cart was on the scene for removing the dead kobolds and the ex-undead man. Bill and the 'big man' were then smacked around until Joaquim's enchantment was finally broken.
"Well, Bill," one of the soldiers said, revealing that he knew the man. "What do you have to do say for yourself this time?"
"Ar, am I glad to see ye, officer," Bill said. "I was just mindin' me business when that bloke over there threw a spell on me and took me here as his prisoner. I hate to think what he might have done to me if you hadn't shown."
The soldiers looked skeptical and pointed to Bill's crutch and the lockpicks.
"Never seen those before!" Bill protested. "I did have a hollow crutch, but I only kept some coins in it for emergencies."
Despite being skeptical, the soldiers were not willing to entirely dismiss his claims. "You should come with us to the Inner Bailey and see this resolved," one of the soldiers told Joaquim.
Post by Ronny Serio on Sept 19, 2014 12:02:43 GMT -6
"I completely agree," said Joaquim. "Just this morning I was charged by representatives of the Temple of Heavenly Virtues with locating kobolds within the city. We should report this success to them straight away. And bring them these men who were harboring the foul creatures, not to mention keeping an undead abomination in their cellar." Joaquim was eager to see Bill try to explain that part away.
"Father Bureau, Curro Crespo and Prefect Gaizka Alamilla are all aware of the situation. Let us make haste to them. I imagine they will be very eager to question these two."
Post by scottenkainen on Sept 22, 2014 14:46:05 GMT -6
Turn 13 for Marcel:
Marcel returned to the Bronze Unicorn Inn and, before he had even reached the common room, was intercepted by one of the young messengers who frequented its courtyard.
"Pardon me, sir, but are you Marcel?" the boy asked. "I have a message for you if you are." The boy held a folded slip of paper, sealed with wax, but with no impression in the wax.
((Assuming Marcel reads it)) The short letter inside read: Marcel, I thank you for your able assistance last night and apologize for my behavior. I owe you a debt, which can be repaid whenever you wish and I am able to do so. I can be reached through any station house of the Viscount's Army.
Post by Ronny Serio on Sept 22, 2014 20:45:43 GMT -6
"Huh," Marcel said aloud. "There's something to that man after all."
He fished a silver coin out of his pouch and tossed it to the messenger boy. "That's a good lad. I'll remember that you're someone who knows how to do a job."
Marcel would let Joaquim decide how best to utilize this resource later. For now, he needed to make sure that the little guy made it out the other side of this current situation. With that in mind, he continued on his way up to their room.
Post by scottenkainen on Oct 1, 2014 9:23:45 GMT -6
Turn 14 for Marcel:
Marcel had the innkeeper, Hunemar Comtois, unlock his room and went inside, where he secured the small locked box. Satisfied, he had Hunemar re-lock the room after he left.
"I trust everything is alright...?" Hunemar asked, perhaps seeing some distress in Marcel's features. Marcel did not remember, later, what short answer he gave, as his thoughts were focused on leaving and making sure Joaquim was alright.
Marcel made his way back to the docks and found that enough time had passed that everyone was gone. The undead body was gone, the door to the shack was closed. Inside, the trapdoor had been shut and everything taken out of the shack.
There were still mariners on the docks -- some idle, some untangling nets, others checking coils of rope. A few Marcel recognized from the past few days, but these grizzled men regarded Marcel with a less friendly gaze than he remembered. When Marcel asked where his little companion had gone, only one of the men deigned to respond, and even that came an uncomfortably slow 30 seconds later.
"Left with the Church's watchmen, he did," Marcel was told. "Either as their guest or their prisoner, I couldn't say except that he wasn't in chains like the others."
Post by Ronny Serio on Oct 1, 2014 10:49:25 GMT -6
Marcel left the man with a smile and a silver coin. He wanted to maintain good relations with the mariners; a man can never have too many friends. Hopefully, a little generosity would go a long way in making the men see the altercation with Bill in a more favorable light.
It was heartening to hear that Joaquim wasn't in enough trouble to have been put in chains, but Marcel hustled to the Bailey regardless.
Post by scottenkainen on Oct 15, 2014 11:16:11 GMT -6
Turns 17-18 for Joaquim, Marcel:
The clerics had preparations to make and were short on words left to say to Joaquim and Marcel other than, "meet us back here in three hours."
At that, the two adventurers from Greyhawk made their exit from the Inner Bailey and followed now-familiar streets back to the Foreign Quarter and the Bronze Unicorn Inn. There, they surrendered their weapons, asked the staff to unlock their room, and returned their attentions to the locked chest from Bill's shack.
Now, back in Greyhawk, they both knew a half dozen men who were openly thieves, but the list of known lock-pickers in Verbobonc was disappointingly short. They could always take it to an honest locksmith, or Marcel could try to break into the chest on their own.
Post by Ronny Serio on Oct 15, 2014 12:06:09 GMT -6
The pair started by taking inventory of what they had:
10 silver coins 5 copper coins a small jasper stone a gold tooth a dagger in a boot sheath a suit of chainmail a silver medallion a flask a piece of parchment with a crude map on it a mace they'd left at inn's entrance
And of course the chest.
"Should I try to open it," Marcel said, cracking his knuckles.
"With your bare hands? If you can manage it, then by all means. If not, we have two choices. Option one, we find somewhere private and you go to town on it with that cultist's mace."
"I will admit that option one sounds somewhat satisfying."
"Unfortunately, if there's anything fragile in there, you might destroy our spoils along with the chest. Option two, I can use my arcane and powerful magiks to defeat the chest. I can't do that until tomorrow, though."
"And it leaves you with less to defend us," Marcel said. The big man shook his head. "Our daily lives are too fraught with danger to risk it."
"Very well, you have a go at the chest now, I'll have a close look at some of these other goodies."
While Marcel tried to force open the chest, Joaquim inspected the rest of their treasure. He would look everything over, but in particular he wanted to learn what was in the flask and find out what the map was all about.
Post by scottenkainen on Oct 16, 2014 8:32:26 GMT -6
Turn 18, rds. 1-4 for Joaquim, Marcel:
Marcel produced his hand axe and prepared to chop the small chest apart. He chopped at it a whole bunch of times, and occasionally he did some damage to it, but the chest wasn't cooperative -- it would bounce into the air like a tiddlywink or clatter across the floor after each glancing blow.
After 4 minutes of this, not only was Marcel convinced he never would have made it as a lumberjack, but he was only halfway done chopping his way into the chest.
He had, however, made enough of a racket that there came a knocking on the door.
"Hello?" came the voice of Innkeeper Hunemar Comtois from outside their door. "Is everything alright in there?"
Post by Ronny Serio on Oct 16, 2014 22:52:10 GMT -6
While Joaquim threw a blanket over the array of goods that he'd been examining, Marcel slid his hatchet under the bed and then answered the door.
"My apologizes for the racket, good Innkeep," the big man said with a smile. "I'm afraid Joaquim and I have gotten ourselves into a bit of a jam. Two nights past we were celebrating a bout of good fortune and got a bit too deep into our cups. Sometime during the festivities, Joaquim lost his belt pouch, and with it the key to the chest in which we keep our most dear belongings. Now I find myself having to open it by force."
"I realize the noise may be an issue, but it shouldn't continue for much longer. I'm certain I've almost got it. Perhaps we could offer you a few silver coins, provide some free drinks for any of your patrons who are put out by the commotion."
Post by scottenkainen on Oct 17, 2014 8:24:32 GMT -6
The rest of turn 18 for Joaquim, Marcel:
"I see...well, that does seem in order, then!" Hunemar said, accepting the four silver piece bribe with good humor.
Once he was gone, Marcel went back to wrecking that accursed chest! Four minutes of hacking and pounding later, he had done it!
The inside of the chest was soaked with liquid from a crystal flask that had been smashed, despite being wrapped in cloth.
Besides that, there was a smaller box, a tied sack of coins, and large iron key in the chest. The smaller box contained five gems that appeared to be ornamental stones like banded agate. The sack held 50 sp and 20 gp. The key was too large to fit the chest that had just been smashed.
Meanwhile, Joaquim had been examining some other items. The flask contained what appeared to only be brackish water. The map seemed to show rooms and corridors in a ridiculously spread out and random pattern -- clearly fictitious, as who would build something like that?
Post by Ronny Serio on Oct 18, 2014 1:33:36 GMT -6
Joaquim quickly dumped out the cultist's flask and held it out while Marcel poured the liquid from the chest into it. The mage presumed that, whatever the fluid was, it must be of value to warrant being stored in a chest guarded by an undead abomination. Perhaps, with Rudd's blessing, their fast action would preserve enough of the liquid to make some use of it, or at least some coin out if it.
Marcel, exhausted from his battle with the chest, collapsed onto the bed. While he recuperated, Joaquim counted the coins from the sack and took a closer look at the rest of the loot.
"Not a bad haul," Joaquim said after a few minutes examination.
"What's our play," Marcel asked, not getting up from where he lay.
"Find an alchemist to take a look at what was in that flask. Find someone to buy these gems."
"The gems could be tough. We don't know the merchants here. Who's going to give you a fair deal, who's going to stick the dagger in and who's going to twist it."
Joaquim though for a moment before responding. "Trazen might be able to point us in the right direction."
"Sounds good. We haven't talked to the rascal in a few days anyway. We should probably bring him up to speed on what's happening."
"Alright, lets find an alchemist, that innkeep should be able to help us there, and then get back to the Bailey. Talk to Trazen first and then rendezvous with the Priests."
"Not so fast," Marcel said, slowly drawing himself up out of the bed. "First, we eat! I'm starving."
Joaquim put the key, the gems and the other valuables into his belt pouch. Marcel took the coins. The pair ate a quick meal in the common room before heading out to speak to an alchemist.
Post by scottenkainen on Oct 20, 2014 9:30:00 GMT -6
Turn 19 for Joaquim, Marcel:
By carefully tipping the chest between them, they were able to drain about half of the broken flask's contents into a new flask.
In the common room, they split a smoked salmon, with vegetable pottage on the side, and washed it down with the house ale.
When they asked Hunemar about an alchemist, the innkeeper had to think about it for a moment. "I don't get asked about an alchemist every day...hold on! Txanton! Yes, he has an apothecary in the Business Quarter, but I think I've heard he is a master alchemist. Try there!"
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 3, 2014 14:13:56 GMT -6
Day 6/turn 1 for Rhillian:
Rhillian Fainor stood patiently outside Higden's Place for Gnomes as the church bells of the city chimed three times, denoting 9 o'clock in the morning.
Higden's was a squat, low-roofed, 1-story stone building with statues of gnomes all around the outside wall. The front room was a low ceiling (6') alehouse frequented by city gnomes and visitors and, past that, was a private museum of gnomish history, art, and culture.
Promptly at the third ring, the alehouse door opened for business. This early, Rhillian was the only one waiting to go in. Two gnomes were waiting inside to greet him. Though Rhillian had been here before, to see what the place was like, he did not know either gnome by name.
Rhillian had been in the city for 20 days now, considering how best to go about this. A family heirloom of the Fainor's, a gold-filigreed scrollcase, was rumored to be erroneously on display in the museum as a gnomish relic. Now seemed to be the time to act to get it back, since matters were growing...turbulent in Verbobonc. Once he had his heirloom, then maybe he could decide if he would or should get involved in this resurgence of the Cult of the Flaming Eye.
Acting with grace and propriety befitting his family's stature, Rhillian enters and bows before the two gnomes that greet him.
"A pleasure to once again enter your fine establishment, fellows... My first arrival here was out of mere curiosity, and I fear that my previous manners weren't up to speed. I haven't introduced myself properly, and as such, don't have the pleasure of your names!" He smiles broadly, and sincerely, at them.
"I am Rhillian Fainor, of the House Fainor. I heard tell that this isn't only a high-quality watering-hole, as it were, but also a museum of Gnomish history? Is this correct, gentlemen? If it is, I'd sure love an opportunity to peruse it!"
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 5, 2014 17:30:33 GMT -6
Day 6/turn 2 for Rhillian:
The two gnomes bowed in unison. The one on the left said, "Elves are welcome in our place. Come in! My name is Noddy, Noddy Bounderby. You're a punctual one you are, Mr. Fainor! I can't recollect the last time an elf was at our door at opening time. Remarkable times, remarkable times.
"But yes," he continued after the silent gnome had offered Rhillian a seat. "This is indeed a high-quality 'watering-hole', as you so poetically described it. I carry ales and wine both local and imported. Is it too early to suggest sampling some? Have you ever sampled Reverend Brothers ale? It's quite good, for human-made..."
As much as Noddy was willing to talk and entertain, Rhillian could not steer him to the museum without bringing it up again.
"Oh, of course, how silly of me! Yes, we have a museum here. I do think you'd like it. Perhaps, if you stick around, we can arrange a tour for you later this morning!"
"Well, it is quite early," mused the elf Rhillian, and then with a smile to the gnomes, "But I should think a small sampling might not go amiss! I'd love a cup... A small one, though, as it is as you state quite early. And what would that set me back? I'm sure it will be worth every coin."
The elf waits to see how his hosts entertain his request, before continuing on. "Doubtless your museum is the center-piece of your establishment, though? A long-lived, and altogether crafty race are the gnomes. As something of a scholar myself, it's my great pleasure to learn more of the folk about me in study. I've always been keen on the contraptions and fine artwork of your race, Mr. Bounderby."
At this, he will accept the chair proferred by the silent gnome, with a smile silent as he but quite friendly, and a nod. Then he will continue to chat with Noddy.
"You see, I enjoy the arts as well as history. I do wonder, your museum... Does it contain artworks and inventions that embody the penultimate of gnomish crafstmanship, or purely documents of historical value? I'd still like to tour them, regardless... But I do hope that I will enjoy the wonder of craft and art as well as history."
The elf changes pace for a moment, hoping to arrest this gnome in cheerfulness, but with some fast-talking misdirection hopefully ((OOC: Note that Rhillian has no intentions of skullduggery; He's just attempting a car salesman approach to sealing a deal by getting as congenial as possible right away))
"Bounderby. Is your family name of notoriety? Do you have claim to some noble folk in your ancestry? Geneology is another favorite of mine... Well, a favorite of most of my family really... And I'd prefer to sample some gnomish vintage, as opposed to human-made, if you don't mind," he offered rapidly at the end of his banter.
Last Edit: Nov 5, 2014 18:21:27 GMT -6 by Merctime
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 6, 2014 22:09:20 GMT -6
Day 6/turn 3 for Rhillian:
Noddy smiled. "You are a smart elf, and I will not waste your time on the human ale. You deserve this..." Noddy wandered off to the taproom, leaving the quiet gnome sweeping.
Besides the open doorway to the taproom, there were two other doors out of the common room. Rhillian was trying to guess which one led to the museum when Noddy came back holding a bottle and two leather flasks.
"It's called Pale & Mellow," Noddy said as he offered Rhillian a flask. "Do I have famous ancestry? No, I daresay not. I'm really not anyone important, you see. I just work for people who are."
Noddy would not elaborate on that, no matter how much Rhillian hinted for him to do so.
"The museum -- if I may whet your appetite, so to speak -- has all three: works of art, artifacts of rare craftsmanship, and historical documents as well. Not just anyone is allowed to see it all, and rarer still when it is a non-gnome. But I like you, and I daresay we'll be making an exception for you."
By now, an hour after Rhillian had come in, a third gnome finally showed up through the front door.
"You'll excuse me," Noddy said quickly, and he hastened over to greet the new gnome.
Rhillian overheard comments about "a package", the "delivery", and "is it safe?"
Rhillian thanks the gnome for the wonderful drink, but will be VERY sparse with drinking it. Sips are the rule here; He's cautious not to let it get him too dizzy.
"I'm very pleased to hear that you might make exception for me in being able to view your museum. I'm rather excited about the opportunity! ...But it seems you've some pressing business to attend to?" The elf says, as Mr. Bounderby hustles off to the newcomer.
"I'll just attend this wonderful vintage whilst you chat," he says, as he settles comfortably in his chair. What Rhillian is going to do now, is inconspicuously listen in on the conversation, straining his elven ears to do so, and get as much detail as he can.