Our Heroes return to Arkham and are confronted on the outskirts of town by a small mob. Most are townspeople and civilians (some armed with pitchforks in case of trouble, others just curious on-lookers) but there are also a dozen men-at-arms from the Keep: six crossbowmen and six halberdiers.
Looking down on them all from his magnificent warhorse is the Bailiff. His gleaning armor and sheathed sword are obviously magical, and he holds a longbow, ready to shoot down the Heroes if they start any trouble. The Bailiff is the superintendent of the Outer Bailey (the portion of the Keep accessible to the public, where the taverns, warehouses, and shops are), and the Corporal of the Watch's boss.
"HALT! WHO GOES THERE? FRIEND OR FOE?"
The townspeople hush and strain forward to hear the answer. Is it just this viewer's imagination, or are a large number of them drunk on this sunny spring morning?
Will the party receive a warm welcome, or be chased off by an inebriated mob? Please choose your words carefully, as this encounter is happening "in the public eye" and the party's reputation hangs in the balance. If you aren't sure what to say, perhaps best to let someone else speak for the party.
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 9:39:13 GMT -6 by mushgnome
The Bailiff narrows his eyes and gives Bremusa a long "lie detector" stare. He remembers her, alright. She proved her courage in the nighttime cavalry attack against the goblin saboteurs (S02E09: Wham, Bam, Thank You Arkham). And he recognizes the dwarf Brecon, a hero in his own right, and their companions Osbert and Ian. (Never liked the looks of that Ian, thinks the Bailiff, he has the look of one who has spent too much time in the wilderness.) But who are these strange looking new comers? And why are they covered in blood? He doesn't lower his bow, and his men-at-arms remain on high alert.
There is a long pause. The townspeople murmur and take swigs from their whiskey bottles.
"I know you, Amazon. But who are these people? And where are the Corporal and his men?"
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 10:15:17 GMT -6 by mushgnome
Post by mgtremaine on Mar 30, 2016 10:36:00 GMT -6
Ian slides down off horse, battered and bloodied still. He pats "horse" on the neck. "The Corporal didn't make it Sir. The evil forces were ready for us and much stronger then rumored. Small conciliation but I managed to save the horse you lent me. He's been to through a lot but this one you can depend on." He would amble forward leading the reigns. "This others we rescued on the way home, because nothing is ever easy in the woods at night."
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 10:38:04 GMT -6 by mgtremaine
At Ian's words, a wave of panic sweeps through the crowd! "Evil forces? Stronger than expected!? We're doomed!" The townsfolk don't seem too broken up about the Corporal (he wasn't a warm and fuzzy guy) but some of them are friends and family with the missing soldiers. "John? Perry? Bilbo? Bob? What about Bob??"
All players are welcome to speak, either to the Bailiff, the crowd, or "table-talk" between each other. I know we are all in different time zones, so let's assume your words all come out at the same time regardless of posting order. I'll leave the mic open for 24 hours or so everyone has a chance to weigh in before the Bailiff makes his decision...
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 11:41:26 GMT -6 by mushgnome
Post by mgtremaine on Mar 30, 2016 11:03:40 GMT -6
Ian would watch the panic spread and say a bit understated, "Did I forget to mention we won? Trolls, Thulls, Goblins, Kolbolds, Ogres, Pigghouls we faced the lot and still live. But I could use a drink and sleep."
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 11:04:09 GMT -6 by mgtremaine
Brecon squares off to the crowd and shouts, "People of Arkham, there *is* no impending danger. It has been held off, at least for the nonce. Give us a little time to rest, have a drink ourselves, and we will report our news at the Keep. But right now, I need a drink! First round at the Pale Ale is on me!"
Brecon squares off to the crowd and shouts, "People of Arkham... right now, I need a drink! First round at the Pale Ale is on me!"
Those among the crowd with rye whiskey bottles in their hands laugh uproariously at Brecon's offer, as though the thought of him buying a round is the most hilarious thing they've ever heard. One old-timer laughs so hard he falls down in the mud and pees himself!
Last Edit: Mar 30, 2016 12:01:43 GMT -6 by mushgnome
Haroog steps forward. "I am Haroog, acolyte of the Holy Order of St. Trampier. Bob is here, although he is wounded and has been greatly affected by the events of last night. He needs some rest and healing."
I pray for exactly seven things: strength, intelligence, wisdom, constitution, dexterity, charisma, and more hit points.
Osbert looks around at the people of Arkham while patting Oz. "Ian, don't forget the rat-king..."
I am thankful to all the original creators of this hobby and to all the work done by it's current guardians. Every time we play, we get to visit a different world, explore it, marvel at it's beauty....and take treasure from the bad guys!
Haltos Snickens who is dressed in quite foppish but worn flowing clothing pushes past a few of the peasant to get a good look at these adventurers his tall black hat standing high. He will follow the party to the tavern for that free drink.
And so it is Ian and Silussa whose words have the greatest effect on the Bailiff. Perhaps I misjudged Ian, he thinks, and gives his men the order to lower their weapons. "Let's get that horse back to the stables. I want to know more about the monsters you faced and how you were able to survive while my Corporal did not." To Silussa, whose name he does not yet know, he says, "Will you come with us too? I want to hear about your travels."
To Haroog, he says, "There is a King's Chapel at the Keep, where you will be most welcome."
To the others, the Bailiff says, "You have earned your rest and refreshment. Brecon, Bremusa, please join me at the Keep tomorrow so we can discuss military strategy."
Meanwhile there is an emotional gasp of "My Bob!" and a middle-aged woman rushes forward. Bob's Mom gives him a big hug, and then the drunken crowd lifts him on their shoulders and carries him off, cheering, "Bob! Bob! Bob!"
What next and where to, Heroes of Arkham? The town is yours...
Last Edit: Apr 9, 2016 21:27:26 GMT -6 by mushgnome
Silussa goes along with the Bailiff. "Well sir, " she starts to stammer, "you're never going to believe this, but I uh ... I got left some property by a dead uncle. I um ... thought it was out in the Woods. How silly of me, but like I said earlier, I'm not from around here. There's no way it could be out in Woods so dangerous. I'll contact the probate lawyer at once."
She waits to gauge his reaction.
ken-do-nim on DF
Mayhem's spells: scroll with [bless, cure light wounds, cure light wounds, and detect magic], protection from evil
Haltos Snickens follows Brecon to the Pale Ale for the free round. "Greetings master dwarf. A very good day to you sir. I wish to join your party of adventurers." He whispers" I have the power of the arcane and have great knowledge of the mysteries. What do you say sir?"
Ian watches Bremusa and Brecon head off to the Inn, with a sigh he realizes his day is not finished. "Of course Bailiff, however I can help. I've eye for terrain can probably draw out some maps of the area where we fought the evil forces."
As tired as he is Ian suddenly feels very alive. He lives! His mind races though all the things he saw, felt, heard. The wheels start churning, he keeps quiet letting the other talk about lawyers and cabins knowing full well the Bailiff is going to ask about matters of life and death, about force, counter-force, gambits, feints and advantages. Ian no longer is the wagon-worker, no longer the lone walker in the woods. That which does not kill you makes you stronger and lot of things have tried to kill Ian of late. He is ready for whatever is next, his hand strays to the handle of the Gelding Knife, we have more work to do.
Last Edit: Apr 2, 2016 17:40:21 GMT -6 by mgtremaine
In the shadow of Arkham Keep stands the Pail Ale, a popular watering hole for locals. On this day, the front yard of the Pail is a mess. The turf has been chewed apart by many feet, and many broken bottles and campaign posters have been trampled into the mud. They say things like "Register to Vote" and "Pops Hill for Mayor" and (on the bottles) "Arkham Rye Whiskey." Slouched atop a makeshift wooden podium is a gray-bearded farmer straight out of central casting. He looks dejected; he was in the middle of a stirring campaign speech to the local populace, when his entire audience was drawn away by the commotion on the outskirts of town.
Just now, Pops sees our heroes approaching. He straightens his posture and beams his widest salesman's grin. "Look, boys, independent voters!" he whispers to his many sons.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, step right up and register to vote! Democracy comes to Arkham! Be a part of history! Remember the name Pops Hill on election day. Drinks are on the house!"
As their father gives his stump-speech, the Hill Boys approach our heroes, bearing voter-registration clipboards and gifts of rye whiskey.
"Never mind this riff raff, the Castellan is the Lord of Arkham" the Bailiff commands Ian, Silussa, and anyone else who will listen. "Don't stop to listen, or you will only encourage him. Come on, back to the Keep."
Haroog isn't with the main group, so unless the Pail Ale is on the way to the church, he won't notice what is taking place there. What he will notice is look of the neighborhoods he strolls through on his journey. While some folk will think it strange, Haroog enjoys looking at the architecture and landscaping of the neighborhoods he walks across. Maybe something will catch his eye: the design of a certain house, a statue or ornament along the way, or even a well-tended garden. Haroog will stop for a moment to admire these things.