"Oh, no. I don't think we've gone that far. That's all the way on the other side of the Inner Bailey. Never mind it's also across the river and I don't think we've gone deep enough to have passed under that..." Ximo interjected.
Post by Ronny Serio on Oct 31, 2014 13:24:00 GMT -6
"Thank Zodal for small mercies," Joaquim said, relief evident in his voice. "Well, even if nobody brought a bow or a spear, we could always go back to the cellar and grab wine bottles to whip at the little varmints."
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 3, 2014 9:32:09 GMT -6
Day 5/Turn 29/rd. 1 for Joaquim, Ximo, Marcel:
While the three adventurers were calmly debating about what to do for missile weapons, one of the kobolds decided to take the initiative. It hopped down off its shelf and threw its spear at Marcel from the tunnel floor. The spear just glanced off Marcel's shield and fell in the water.
"What?!? Ho, that little newt has some vicious intentions! Let me..." Ximo bundled himself as small as he could out of the way and beckoned to the soldiers behind them. "Come on, time to earn your glory, men! At these vermin!"
In the meantime, Ximo kept a look out for any danger and hoped he could thwack it with his staff before it did horrible things to his own insides.
"Well, that's handy," Marcel mused. "Hold this," he said to Joaquim, pushing his sword into the mage's hand. He picked the spear up off the ground and sent it flying back toward its owner.
"Out of the way, you oaf," Joaquim said to Marcel, handing the big man back his sword. The soldiers have crossbows; let them through. Marcel nodded at that and both friends flattened against the wall or otherwise got out of the way as best they could.
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 3, 2014 10:50:16 GMT -6
Day 5/Turn 1 for Rigellio:
Rigellio Albanus woke up alive and without his throat cut, which was always a reassuring start to a morning.
It was his second day in the City of Verbobonc, having arrived in the sleepy-looking river valley that was the Viscounty of Verbobonc by boat on the Velverdyva River, which seemed the fastest way out of the Kingdom of Furyondy. The patrolmen at the docks had recommended only one place to stay for travelers, suggesting that its shrine to Fharlanghn was a good place to thank the god of travel for a safe voyage.
Which meant that Rigellio woke this morning at Grandmother Herrero’s House of Rest. Two bells were tolling elsewhere in the city, but since Rigellio was not familiar with the time-keeping conventions of Verbobonc, he had no idea what time that meant it was.
The inn was one large, 1-story compound, with guest rooms arranged so that they all opened onto one shared courtyard (or the courtyard could be reached by narrow alleys). In the courtyard was a well, some girls washing clothes around it, and the delicious aroma of fresh baked bread. The smell was wafting from the corner entrance to the common room, where others were likely having breakfast. It was definitely morning, but since it was cloudy and misty out this morning, there was no way to look up and know exactly when it was.
From here, Rigellio could see the gates leading out of the compound (which was surrounded by a tall, wooden privacy fence), and also a path that led around the building to a tower that housed the shrine to Fharlanghn.
The youthful lad Rigellio awoke, yawning, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Well, my head's still on my neck. So the merchant didn't find me!" said he.
Standing, and stretching out some, the boy smacked his lips and rubbed his belly. "Bit hungry. What's that delicious smell?" He looked into his pockets for some coin, and frowned. "Won't last me long. I'll need to find some way to get some solid coin, soon. But I'd better get something in this belly!" Being young, and basically a street-urchin, the boy didn't even think to look up and determine the time of day!
Saying this, the youth looked around, noticed the girls with an appreciative glance, and began to follow his nose to where the bread aroma came from. As he walked, he peered around to see if anyone looked out of place or interesting... But he may be distracted by the curvy bodies of young pretties as he does so...
Last Edit: Nov 3, 2014 11:07:21 GMT -6 by Merctime
"Don't go hying after them! This was nearly a trap, they'll likely have worse laid on," Ximo attempted to countermand the crossbowman's order. He turned to Marcel, "We may have found an entire lair of them. I don't want them coming around behind us or something. Let's search this chamber, you and the guards can keep a look out."
Post by Ronny Serio on Nov 3, 2014 21:54:09 GMT -6
Marcel had been about to rush after the guards, but stopped short at the stranger's words. He looked to Joaquim. "He has a point," the mage said.
"Alright," Marcel said with a nod. He shouted up to the charging guardsmen. "Hold your ground boys. Pepper them with bolts, but don't go chasing. We take the ground slowly and methodically. Work at our pace, not theirs."
"We'll search," Joaquim said, gesturing to Ximo. "Marcel, you guard our backs."
Ximo nodded and took the left side of the crypt. He began methodically searching through the niches. He hesitated a moment before opening the crypt but reminded himself that a decomposing skeleton was no more disgusting than some of the spell components he had learned about.
"Perhaps formal introductions are appropriate?" Ximo asked as he searched through the first alcove. "You know my name but I do not know yours. Any of yours. And though those little lizards don't seem all that dangerous, there might be bigger lizards about and a final conclusion to this romantic tale is not guaranteed to be happy. In fact, depending on the skill of the author it's likely to end up being all too obvious."
Joaquim concentrated on searching the right side of the crypt. He secretly rolled his eyes at this Ximo's words. This man was clearly going to talk a great deal and likely say little.
Marcel handled the conversation for the both of them. "I'm Marcel, the skinny one is Joaquim. I don't know about bigger lizards, we've only encountered the kobolds so far, but where those little buggers are, there's likely to be members of the Cult of the Flaming Eye about. They appear to be in league."
"That Cult seems to be everywhere," Ximo answered. "Just today I heard about them supposedly tattooing shopkeepers with the Cult's symbol against the shopkeepers' wills. And, of course, there was the wild plan Caltaran presented me with about the Cult's supposed headquarters..."
Ximo found himself eager to talk, apparently he had found men worthy of the effort. He now guessed they were partners and not brothers. They did not appear to resemble each other very much.
Post by Ronny Serio on Nov 4, 2014 19:24:05 GMT -6
Joaquim turned around a moment at the mentioned of tattooed shopkeepers. "That's a new one by us," he said.
"Dieg Manor, I assume," Marcel said, after Ximo mentioned Caltaran's plan. "I think that was more the other fella's idea. What was his name?"
"Tain," provided Joaquim, who'd gone back to searching.
"Right, Tain. A dark cloud over that one. Anyway, he seemed to be the one hellbent on it. Calataran just seemed..." Marcel trailed off, searching for the right way to put it. Ximo apparently was friendly with the cleric and he didn't want to risk offending him.
"Eager," Joaquim helped out.
"Yes, eager to do something, anything really, to combat the cult. Anyway, he brought his plan to the higher ups in the Church. It's in their hands now."
"I warned Caltaran and Tain that their plan sounded suicidal at best. I guess I'm glad you talked them out of it." Ximo answered.
"Well, I've shared something new with you, about which I will gladly elaborate, in exchange for a piece of interesting Cult doings from you. I do feel I am playing catch-up on all this and hate to fall further behind."
Ximo continued working his way through his half the crypt.
Post by Ronny Serio on Nov 4, 2014 21:05:12 GMT -6
While Ximo was absorbed in his search, Joaquim looked to Marcel and mouthed the words, "No Master." The stranger seemed like he was on the up and up, but they didn't know him well enough to risk exposing their hand. The fact that they knew about the Master and his hideout in Ryemend was the one piece of information that was too valuable to share.
Marcel nodded, understanding what Joaquim meant. "They've been busy. Burned down an orphanage. Recruiting workers and farmhands outside town. Making them all kinds of promises, or threats when those don't work. These kobolds have been popping up around town. Little pockets of them."
"The riddle," Joaquim prompted.
"Right, the riddle," Marcel said. "That was more your bit, you explain it."
Joaquim did just that. "A courier brought a riddle to town, courtesy of some noblewoman out in the countryside. It was meant for a group of adventurers in town. Members of the cult tried to intercept the delivery, but were fought off by some priests that happened to be nearby. The riddle seemed to be indicating a cave or something out in the wild. No idea what's there, but the cult wanted the information, or at least wanted it kept secret. Those priests who rescued the courier took up a quest to get to the bottom of it."
"Quests...sound...risky. I had heard something about the orphanage burning down but not who was to blame," Ximo answered. "And you two, you are freelancers? Do-gooders? And, before you aski, I'm here to satisfy my curiosity."
"Professional investigators," Marcel said, pleased to announce their new careers. "On the case at the Church's behest."
"Just so I understand," Joaquim said. "You think quests sound risky, but your curiosity drives you to follow calls of distress, crawl around in underground monster-infested tunnels and comb through the contents of sarcophagi, while spears and crossbow bolts are flying about?"
"Is there a guild of professional investigators? I had not heard of it," Ximo answered Marcel first. "And to the complicated perspective I have on quests and crawling around in monster-infested tunnels, sir, yes, it is a bit of a contradiction. But one does allow me to stay in the city and close to its comforts while the other requires sleeping on the ground, I imagine."
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 5, 2014 10:58:20 GMT -6
Day 5/the rest of Turn 29 for Joaquim, Ximo, Marcel:
The two soldiers did not pursue the kobolds, but stood their ground. While introductions were being made, they introduced themselves as well.
"My name is Godofredo."
"Hugo," the other said with a nod.
While they spoke, the three adventurers searched the niches. They found five discarded spears and some animal spoor -- though Marcel and Ximo figured out quicky that it was actually, probably, kobold poop.
The sarcophagi around them were festooned with the graven iconography of Saint Cuthbert. Inside the first three were skeletons laid out in ceremonial armor (platemail in two cases, chainmail in the third), with shields on their chests and surrounded by silver holy symbols of Saint Cuthbert. In the third sarcophagus was a silver- and gold-inlaid footman's mace with the body. There were three more sarcophagi that looked very similar.
"I'd say this is a crypt of St. Cuthbert," Ximo observed drily, but also loudly enough that everyone in the room could hear him. "I would wager that the Saint would rather see these objects in service of his loyal agents against the Cult than moldering in this crypt. Do you suppose that big club might be a holy weapon?"
Ximo picked it up and tested its weight.
"What? These fellows didn't complain about kobolds fouling the place, they won't mind me examining their toys."
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 5, 2014 11:24:05 GMT -6
Day 5/Turn 2 for Rigellio:
The girls washing clothes in the courtyard were no older than 14. Rigellio moved on.
The smell of baked bread was coming from the kitchen of the House of Rest but, short of sneaking into the kitchens, Rigellio would have to settle for waiting in the common room to have bread served to him.
Grandmother Herrero, a smiling old woman with rolled-up sleeves and muscular arms exposed, was greeting her morning guests. Because Herrero was good at getting her guests talking, Rigellio overheard quite a bit. One was Roberto, a miller from Ryemend. He was on vacation in Verbobonc and planned to visit the wineries and breweries of the city. Another was Osvaldo, a reeve's deputy from Penwich. He was looking for a replacement carpenter to replace the sickly, elderly one in Penwich -- officially -- but was also looking for help with a bandit problem their village was having.
At another table, Rigellio overheard two men grumbling about city hall and local politics.
A man in wizard-like robes and a conical hat came scampering through the common room, announcing, "Nobody move -- Mr. Tabbykins is missing!" A tiny female halfling accompanied him.
"Are you sure, Malotek?" Grandmother Herrero asked.
"Very sure. Everyone be careful with your chairs as well; Mr. Tabbykins is invisible, and I don't want anyone accidentally hurting him."
Blinking in astonishment, Rigellio froze in place otherwise. "Mister Tobycrum? Invisible? ...What?" Is all he could croak out. Rigid in the fear of stepping on someone's beloved pet (As he's had a few pets that he dearly loved in his day; Even the remains of one passed on was in his pocket!) the boy called out, "Who or what is this that's missing? Do they have a certain smell?"
Rigellio sniffed the air heavily. Hopefully, the pungent odor of Pipsqueak in his pocket did not foul his sense of smell!
"Mr. Tonybean! Oh Mr. Tonybean! Here, Mr. Tonybean!" he would call out.
Post by Ronny Serio on Nov 5, 2014 14:36:55 GMT -6
Neither Joaquim nor Marcel commented on Ximo taking the mace. For his part, Joaquim was thrilled. He wanted a cut of that treasure, but he preferred not to be the one to have his hands on it. There was a very real chance that the priests or soldiers took offense. Though he wished no ill will on the man, he'd much rather Ximo take the fall than he or Marcel.
Marcel did his best to take the focus off Ximo and his pilfering. "This area is secure, lets keep moving." He motion the soldiers forward, stopped to scoop up the kobolds' spears and then followed after. Joaquim gave Ximo an approving nod and trailed after his friend.
Post by scottenkainen on Nov 6, 2014 12:42:37 GMT -6
Day 5/Turn 30 for Joaquim, Ximo, Marcel:
Godofredo and Hugo exchanged worried glances. They continued on past the sarcophagus chamber with the adventurers, but Hugo seemed to speak for both of them when he said, "We thought we were checking the sarcophagi for signs that the monsters had defiled them. But to take something from these holy tombs...it seems like sacrilege."
Godofredo was just ahead of them and was crossing a graven image of Saint Cuthbert carved into a flat section of tunnel floor when -- WOOOSH!
A large blade came spinning out from the side wall of the tunnel, caught Godofredo in the chest, and he went down. The blade disappeared back into the wall, leaving a bloody smear where it passed through a crack.
Hugo bent down to examine Godofredo. "I think he'll live, if we get him help."
The dark tunnel continued on past this, both beckoning and taunting the adventurers...