GM Belicose Poultry |
Wiping her hands on her pants, Sarre chews thoughtfully and stands, grabbing her bow and arrow. She shouts back, nocking the arrow but keeping it pointed at the ground. "He's no Frozen. That's Drazan of Shadeholme, once of Peklenc. I'm Sarre of Shadeholme. Who are you, friend?"
The question hangs in the air for a few moments before the man shouts back. Adham Dannet... Excise-Head of Piney Bluff. There's 20 of us not far from here. Take us to your Mayor, if he lives!"
Sarre looks to you, one eyebrow cocked in a question. Should we?
Drazan of Peklenc |
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==============
Desnus 1
==============
Thinking only a few moments before settling on the plan of dealing with the unknown group shadowing Sarre before returning to retrieve a goat wrangler, Drazan joins the Shadeholme warriors.
Drazan's eyes sharpen into anger when he recognizes Adham. The way Adham had glared at Rigel was one of the moments Drazan drew on for his bloodrage. The mere fact Drazan did not fly into his battle rage proved his training was incomplete. Stepping in front of Sarre and the others, Bane locked in both hands, Drazan's nostrils flair with heavy breaths, The Shadeholme you knew is no more. Your excising has handed it to the First Flame so do not confuse us with a Shadeholme that respects your position or fears the weight of your laws. Do not think the transgression you were involved in has been forgiven or will be tolerated without proof that you do not wish to do further harm. Drazan's tone turns from cold war to outright aggression. Try to order Captain Sarre again, and I will put you in a gore filled hole filled up to your eyes with your entrails and wet, slapping skin. What do you want Adham Dennet of Piney-Bluff and man that has made the mistake of calling me Frozen not once, but twice? Refuse answering me, and even before your soldiers get here, I'll cut you asunder, and they will not be able to find all the pieces of your head scattered on the wilderness floor.
Drazan readies to cast his shape change spell sphere should Adham take any other action than to reply peaceably. That is unless Sarre tell Drazan to stand down.
Oios |
Yup Oios is a leader now, he can't just go adventuring anytime anything happens
GM Belicose Poultry |
"Rakk that guy," Sarre says, still smiling. "What was this about a goat herder, now?"
No need to respond unless you wish. Drazan should have you a goat herder soon.
Oios |
Istiel |
Drazan of Peklenc |
==============
Desnus 1
==============
Doubtful to say the least that would be the last time Adham and Drazan would cross paths. He'll need more than twenty men next time. Drazan growls before his anger eases. Turning back to Sarre and the others he smiles coyly.
Ah yes, goats. Drazan raises a pointed finger from back where he entered the clearing. There is a score of goats ahead in the wilderness. Isitial and I could have killed a few at best, but capturing the whole would pay off big. I have retruend to retrieve someone that can help Shadeholme stake a claim on them. Any of you happen to have any goat wrangling skills by chance or know anyone that I should find once I get back to the group?
Imix |
Tactical choices we made. Not your fault. On the other hand, if something comes up that requires immediate decisions, we'll be golden. Encounters at night would probably also be okay. Worst case in a few days we'll get to the falls, and this'll come out in the wash.
GM Belicose Poultry |
Following you, Sarre and her soldiers make their way to the goats. You encounter a litany of easy signs - broken branches, boot heels drug through mud, and the like, and before long you're sitting with Istiel, watching the goats through a small blind of trees.
Settling in, the soldiers sit and watch the goats until Ayida-Wedu falls into her nightly death, and then not long after, so do the goats.
Grinning, Sarre sprints from the underbrush. "Get em! Don't be the goat!"
Flinging a snare at a goat, it misses wildly, but her second throw wraps the noose around a goat's leg, as the pack rises to their feet bleating with fear.
Sarre's soldiers spring into action around you, a ruckus of bleats and curses ringing through the forest...
handle animal Sarre: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Sarre aid herself: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
soldier aid Sarre: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
OK, you each can take two aid another actions before the goats sprint helter-skelter into the forest. DC 10 untrained handle animal to snare a goat.
Drazan of Peklenc |
Drazan appears a bit glower after Sarre's level of assurance in wrangling goats, but he doesn't have it in him to doubt her. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her soldiers. He simply nods and turns to lead the five to where he was last and hopefully not have to track the animals too far.
When he reaches Istiel and the goats he prepares himself for the worst, and hopes for at least a couple of wrangled goats. His expectations are far from catching all of them together, and he didn't have days to spare for the task. Regardless, he set his mind to the task and would tackle the goats if that's what it took.
aid: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11
aid: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17
yay! I'm helping!
Istiel |
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Istiel rises as Sarre, Drazen, and the soliders approach. She casts a probing eye on all of them; Are we to beat them to death? I expected farmers. cynically crosses her mind, but she remains silent.
A plan is hatched and Istiel reluctantly takes a rope, lying in wait for the predetermined moment.
Man veruses beast. The strong bringing the weak into fold, following the natural order of the world- the Three People providing shelter to the weaker goats, while the goats paid their dues in milk.
To get excited about the inevitable wrangling, she imagined expertly roping and dragging back two fat bleating creatures to the flotilla, once again saving the people she was sworn to protect. Yes- a small bit of glory in this mundane task.
The call is given as the light fades. Springing from their hiding place the warrior-monk enters into a battle for future sustenance.
Things did not go as planned.
Istiel's initial war cry (completely accidental- it habitually slipped out as they charged) startled the beasts and turned them into a writhing mass of limbs.
She flings a rope with incredible precision, catching a goat around the neck! Pulling back to haul in her prey, she watches in dumbfound horror as the creature seems to become liquid, oozing out of the noose one limb at a time.
The silk is cast overhand once more, and by pure luck, hits an unseen overhead branch, falls backwards, and lands directly on a soldier's head.
With a frustrated snarl the monk abandons the rope and bursts into a sprint, tearing after a lagging goat. Branches explode under her pounding feet. She desperately powers through a bush and jumps onto a fallen tree, springing off the rotting wood and becoming airborne. The monk, a billowing cloud of black silk, careens several feet in the air towards her prey, aiming to body-slam the creature and put it in a choke hold.
aid another, handle animal: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9
aid another, handle animal: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5
Best case scenario- Istiel catches a goat, but gets peed on and smells for days. Worst case scenario- Istiel does not catch a goat and still gets peed on.
goat-chasing acrobatics: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
grapple: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
GM Belicose Poultry |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
==============
Desnus 1
==============
Despite Istiel's best attempts, you have some success. In a matter of a few minutes, you, Sarre, and the soldiers round up ten goats, with another one dead and destined for the stew pot. Grinning, Sarre looks at you both and pulls a goat close. "Not bad, eh?"
Congrats! You've now got 10 goats. They each take up the space of one good, but can produce food, so there's that!
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Can you see strength in my eyes?
I used to sleep through the night.
Then horror they came;
There were no lights, no warning, just blood.
It was violent.
And I had to run or die.
I’m Running
I’m Running.
I’m Running
I’m Running.
Say, ooh, are we all alone?
Say, no, I’ll never forget my home.
Running from the place that I know,
I’m running, what direction should I go?
I’m running, so tired and so worn;
I won’t stop until I’m safe and strong.
Oooo
Had to flee the place you love;
Oooo
Tough as nails when things got rough;
Oooo
Many fathers told their sons and daughters;
Say oooo
Don’t stop running ‘till you’re home!
Say oooo, Refugee song.
Say oooo, Refugee song.
Say oooo, Refugee song.
Say oooo, Refugee song.
Song adapted from Gregory Porter and Common's Running:
Refuge Song
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Later, as all but the guards have bedded down for the night, Aktuk rouses Oios and the Suriname. Holding his hand to his lips, he leads you towards the front of the encampment, where by the moonlight, you see seven figures approach. Soon, it is apparent - none other than Drazan and Istiel, Sarre and her soldiers, dragging ten goats behind them, the creatures tired and muddy, though none of them so much as Istiel, who covered in mud and also blood, heaves the corpse of another goat over her shoulder as she walks...
GM Belicose Poultry |
===============
Desnus 2
===============
The day comes warm as the day before, and by mid-afternoon the refugees walk in silence in the heat, when the sky clouds over and a refreshing rain falls for about an hour, a moment of Damballah's grace.
==============
Desnus 3
==============
The night grows cold, and the morning sees a strong breeze barrelling down from the north.
His bottom half is more interesting, in a way - it is the body, including the four legs, of a grey-white ram, similar to those that climbed the mountain peaks of your childhood, if larger and more muscular.
Seeing you out of the corner of his eye and startled, the creature drops his spear and quickly picks it back up, shouting as he does so.
"Ĉesu! Ĉu vi estas amiko?"
Knowledge nature to identify the creature.
As you're considering breaking the procession for lunch, you spy a thin spiral of smoke snaking up from the treeline, not more than a hundred yards from where you stand...
Imix, I'm assuming you can come along here if you decide to investigate without breaking concentration. Unless you have to drop the spell(s)...
Oios |
Istiel |
Thankfully for Drazen, the smell of goat has largely faded from his scouting companion over the course of the previous day, helped on by a brief period where Istiel (in an act of desperation) treaded water in the canal shallows for about a half hour.
The man-ram on the shore is a strange sight, and she would feel more threatened if it hadn't been so surprised by their presence that it was now bandishing a spear with a carp hanging off of the end.
The monk turns her head to Drazen, speaking plainly. "I do not understand its words. We wave it off and keep moving. If it does not leave we make it leave."
I'm almost a little sad she rolled that high, I had a goat-demon angle and inevitable punching all cooked up.
Imix |
===============
Desnus 2
===============
As they gather to break fast in the morning, Imix seeks to assemble Drazen, Istiel, Sarre and Oios. "What happened yesterday? I was told you saw people in the woods. That night you returned with goats. Therein lies a story, I suspect."
"I have grown tired of lying on this boat." Imix grumbles to Oios "Shall we take some soldiers and investigate the smoke? Smoke suggests people. If there are more refugees, better to have them greeted by us. If there are Mountainfolk, then we can tell them of our agreement. If there are creatures of the Flame, better the two of us seek them out. Should trouble occur, I will call my creatures. I'd pit five of them against one of the Flame's foul birds."
Drazan of Peklenc |
Pausing a moment to to turn and regard Istiel with a slight angling of his facing, Drazan considered asking Istiel what he was looking at.
The half-man, half-ram was unlike anything he had ever seen in the fighting pits of his younger years. He thought to himself that maybe the cloven feet allowed the creature to escape any of the slavers that collected their wares from the surrounding wilderness. Shaking the thought from his head, he grabbed Isiel's shoulder. We out number him. I'd hate to lose this opportunity to learn if this creature is friend or foe. Furrowing his brow in contemplation, Drazan adds Be on guard. Then Drazan drives Bane's blade into the earth and takes a few steps forward, waving his arms up in the air, slowly and deliberately to show he means no harm.
In an attempt to bridge the apparent communication barrier, Drazan calls back, Koo vee estah ahmeekoh!? though he is not certain he repeated the words the half-man had repeated only a moment ago.
Oios |
Istiel |
========
Desnus 2
========
Istiel sits with Imix and the rest of the group, eating left over roasted goat stew from the previous night. "The Frozen lined the forest edge as we departed. They watched us as a wren watches a cat. Scolding. Afraid. Did they not watch the flotilla?"
Her mouth is invisible behind her eating veil, and another spononful of stew disappears into the void. "We saw stray goats eating reeds. Drazen fetched Sarre to help herd them. They are... fragile." The monk says with a subtle, sheepish shrug.
Istiel nods at Drazen's decision, knowing that this would either end with a new ally or a a dead man-ram. As a token gesture she draws the flint knife from her belt sheath and places it on the ground next to Bane.
The warrior-monk follows Drazen towards the creature, on her guard and ready to rush in to subdue the hybrid.
GM Belicose Poultry |
==================
Desnus 3
==================
Abyssal:You not death-enemies? (the Abyssal tongue doesn't contain words for friend...)
Istiel |
The monk faces a crisis of conscience as they appraoch the creature. She was well informed about Capratuars from her youth- the Mossy Cliff tribe often traded with the friendly ones and had a healthy, distant respect for the unfriendly ones. However, this was all knowledge obtained before her Rebirth; stories belonging to an identity she had abandoned for many years now.
A quick mental sorting of relevant facts allowed her to tell Drazen what she could know without having actually interacted with them.
Istiel speaks to Drazen as they approach, her voice unhushed. "Caprataur may be friend or foe. Some ally with the southern Mountain Tribes. Some fight them."
As they stop at a respective distance to speak to it, she crosses her arms over her chest. "You will have to translate." is said to Drazen in response to the creature's poorly spoken Abyssal.
A small voice tickles the back of her mind, wondering- Why is it away from the Teeth? Did it come with the Frozen?
Drazan of Peklenc |
Not death enemy, no fight. Drazan says sternly in his gutteral, infernal tone while pointing at the creature's spear and then pointing to the ground. We are enemies of the First Flame; the humanoids from the mountains. Our people won a great battle but have decided to seek the safety of the South to regroup and build a more powerful army. Where are your people? Your tribe or group. Do they trade with the humans from the mountains, do they not have any interaction with them, or are they death enemies with the mountain people, the First Flame?
Imix |
Imix sighs "Locals" he suggests, the rustic hut matching a number of stereotypical beliefs of the Tsinyah held in Cornucopia. "We should give them a chance to come with us. At a minimum we should warn them of what comes."
Listening to his own words, he claps, loudly, twice - apparently unwilling to touch the hut itself.
GM Belicose Poultry |
"My tribe scattered, souls taken by Wyvern. Then, scattered, slaughtered, pushed into forest by the Men. Now just-- Rock." The Caprataur thumps himself once in the chest for emphasis, a mix of pride and sorrow crossing the creature's features.
A clacking, wet lips upon wet lips, emanates from the hut, followed by a cracking voice, ragged with age. "Well then, come in, if you mean no harm. Don't mind Rip and Thorn. Do no mischief, and neither will they! CLACK"
Imix |
Is there anything Imix knows, and what he sees, is there anything that might point towards a tradition? Or what to expect? if it was a european fairy tale my mind would be heading towards Baba Yaga, but those two names (Rip and Thorn) suggest someone - or something - with a history. If nothing else, Craft Construct suggests someone with SERIOUS chops.
Drazan of Peklenc |
Wyvern and men have killed and scattered off his people. Drazan translates to Istiel as he plans his next words. Returning to infernal Drazan continues, I am Drazan. This is Istiel. We come from Three-People, though not from any tribe there that knew of you and your kind. We have been driven out of our homes just as you have by men called the First Flame. Now our tribe seeks to regroup, rebuild, and one day retake our home from the First Flame. What is your name and what would you know of the surrounding lands, specifically the South where the great fall is and whatever is on the other side? Do you know how to safely reach the bottom of the edge? And do you seek the safety of numbers? You may join our tribe and seek vengeance on Wyvern and the men that scattered your people. I will help you, as would Istiel.
Oios |
Sense Motive Hostile Intent from the hut voice?: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28
Istiel |
The monk stoically watches Rock, making a mental calculation if he would be accepted by the Three People. Utzi was accepted, even respected. The same for Drazen. But they at least appeared human.
Would he follow our laws and customs? She wonders, the thought pinpointing her only real concern. Her head swivels to Drazen as he finishes speaking. "Who is "Wyvern"?
GM Belicose Poultry |
Rock spits, one hoofed foot pawing at the canalside roadway. "Wyvern! Large creatures, poisonous, wings. A scourge upon the mountains!" The caprataur looks reflexively to the sky, worry briefly crossing his expression.
Both of you would know of wyverns. Indeed, they're as he describes them, if thankfully in your experience, rare.
Turning to Drazan, the Caprataur stands silent, lost in thought. "Yes, I accompany you, with promise to bathe in blood feud in future. Otherwise, I forge my own path."
"I've seen falls! Large, the bottom lost to mist. I know not how to go below. River to the south, maybe a few hours. Faster for me, slower for howyousay two-legs. Then, days along the river. But. Careful! Uhh... creatures, many creatures, have home at crossing of falls and river."
Knowledge [local] for the id of the mystery person. Slightly lower DC for Imix, though neither of you are locals, so...
The voice laughs from behind the door. Hahaha... Well met, Imix the Suriname and Oios of Damballah. I'm Rato of This Hut. Don't see too many fancy-pants Tkoyah around these parts. Unless they're engineers, that is!"
"Are you coming in or not?!? I'm about to have lunch. Join me, or don't. But if not, leave me be!"
Drazan of Peklenc |
There will be blood, this I promise. Drazan says with a confident nod. When we rejoin our tribe, stay with Istiel and I for a time, your right of passsge will be weighed on by our peoples leaders.
Drazan echoes his nod toward Istiel and with some enthusiasm translates, in common, Rock is going to come with us and join us in fighting the First Flame and the Wyvern. Wyvern's are winged bastard, dragons with poison tipped tails and small brains. Rock knows the way to the falls, but warns of the creatures at the water crossings.
Picking up and returning Rock's spear to him before retrieving Bane and Isitiel's weapon Drazan waves Rock on to gather his things and join up while adding, Now tell me more of these creatures at the crossings.
Istiel |
Yes, my intention was to have Drazen translate. Haha, I misinterpreted the tense on Wyvern, I thought it was a proper noun.
Creatures?! Sounds ripe for glorious punching...
Istiel looks at Drazen thoughtfully for a moment, her intense hazel eyes not leaving his own. "His spear is welcome. But- tell him he is expected to follow our laws. It is the best way into our tribe."
She continues to walk alongside the two, contemplating the creatures at the crossings, and secretly hoping they are not as friendly as Rock.
Imix |
Imix stands on the threshold as various clues flicked through his mind "Our..." he pauses and discards the word 'armada' as pretentious "Caravan has also stopped for lunch. If you offer hospitality I will accept."
know: local: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Oios |
GM Belicose Poultry |
It seems that the last four survivors of his tribe, including Rock himself, were headed south, harried by a band of Mountain Men - "filed teeth, scars inflicted on purpose" - following the river. At its mouth, before the drop off to the cliff, they encountered a large, shallow lake where the water had backed up before going over the cliffside. Stopping for the night, Rock and his tribe bathed, and then were filling their water gourds when they were beset by an awful smell. Wretching, they were set upon by a large number - "Scores! No, hundreds!" - of creatures with the scales of rocks, and by the time Rock had escaped, his companions lay dead in the shallow lake.
The rest of the day passes without incident. Soon, the day growing longer, you are at the river's confluence. While the Cheya Canal breaks to the north and east at a leisurely, managed pace, the river stretches to the south before dissapearing around a forest bend, the current swift and muddy with the spring rise, and no doubt cold, being that the water is largely snowmelt. Perhaps a hundred feet across, the water courses between you and the far bank, your feet sinking into the riverbank mud. One lone cottonwood, stripped of many of its branches, barrels down the river, turning like a giant's thrown spear in the current.
"So." Rock says, breaking the silence. "We wait for your tribe or go back or go to Falls?"
GM Belicose Poultry |
The codger was quite the herbalist, and a decent cook, but not a cultured conversationalist and frankly, a bit smelly. Still, after Rato's hut, there was nothing but rough camping until the Valley spilled over the cliff.
Striding up the porch, the effigies' heads turn with your approach, swiveling evenly with each step until you enter the shack.
To say that Rato's hut is messy is to insult disorder and dirt the world over. The walls are blackened with smoke from years of cookfires. Piles of carvings - wood blocks in various states of composition, sit on every open surface, including the floor, which has a path through the carvings that winds from bed to chamberpot (buzzing with flies, currently) to hearth. What can only be described as a lifetime of boogers sit dried on the post next to the firepit, over which sits the leg of a goat, slowly turning on a spit.
An old man, bald excepting long tufts of white hair sprouting from his ears, huddles over the goat leg. He's stooped with age, and wearing a plain dirty nightgown, stained with years of sweat. With a long brush, Rato bastes the leg with a pungeant concoction (though, sadly not pungeant enough to counteract the smell of the man's chamberpot).
"Wandered into my clearing this morning, lucky us! CLACK! So you have news, do you? Beat back the heathens yet, have you?"
Oios |
Still, at least he's not completely unprepared. He walks in carefully and nods with respect at the older man. Yes, we have news, unfortunately it is not what you expect. The heathens beat us back. Cornucopia, by all reports, has fallen. We are the head of a caravan of refugees which may be the last of the Three Peoples
He lets the news sink in.
Drazan of Peklenc |
Speaking in Three-People's common language, Drazan confers with Istiel, We are covering much more ground than the others and it may take them up to another day to reach us here, but they should be warned of the lake creatures in advance. We should confirm our companion's lake creatures or at least the presence of the lake, and then report back to develop our plan of approach. What say you?
Imix |
Imix paused on the threshold to look around the room. 'Single minded' he noted with approval. ' Sculptor. Herbalist - if I remember what the engineers said correctly - and old enough to suggest magic. Human?'
Coming to a decision, he addressed the old man as one might a respected peer. His bow was exactly deep enough, and he let Oios go first.
"The Frozen are a tool of the First Flame. An ancient nemesis of the three people since the dawn of time, it has returned to destroy our way of life. Valiant striving, war, and many sacrifices have brought us a week to flee their new empire."
"They show little inclination to tolerate any independence within their new nation, and they run through the forest like ants."
Imix sits on his heels, his hand running over a particularly skilled line on the block at his feet - and watching his hosts eyes when he does so. "Perhaps your skills might buy your time. Know, though, that I raised five of the ancient Nargun against them, and their witch lulled them back into quiescence."
"Come with us, Rato of This Hut. The time of quiet reflection is done. The three people need you."
Are there signs of Suriname-magic type wearing? I know a lot of Imix's craft is tied up in sculpting little images, so a pair of statues like the ones outside are pretty intimidating.
Istiel |
Istiel pauses at the edge of the river, her eyes fixed on its rapid flow. She tracks the cottonwood as it tumbles past, imagining it a keelboat full of people. How can I protect them from this river? I can not tame the water. I could not tame a goat. If Naira were here... No, there is nothing I can do irectly. We must have faith Damballah will lead us through this. We are his only children now. The eyes of all the gods are on us now. We must pray. We must not disappoint.
The monk had sank several inches into the mud while she was lost in thought, and she is pulling her feet out of holes while Drazen speaks with her. "I agree. It is our charge to ensure the way is safe. We will make it safe. To the Falls."
GM Belicose Poultry |
As for Rato's ability as a sculptor, you get the impression that he could be quite good, if he were inclined to be so. But most of the carvings in this hut seem to be utilitarian in nature, and a lot of them unfinished and abandoned. Function over form.
"A score of their warriors lay moldering under my garden out back. They will not bother me again. And I am too old to travel, so I won't be going on your journey with you. CLACK! But perhaps I can offer you advice. And assistance."
The old man points his basting brush at a sagging cedar cabinet leaning slightly away from his shack's wall. "Therein lie tinctures. Take what you want."
"How will you go about your journey?"
Choose 6 potions of spells from the PHB level three and lower.
Drazan of Peklenc |
If that seems like the easiest route to take, though not too far from cover if possibble.
GM Belicose Poultry |
It proves harder going along the riverbank. Too far from the river, and you lose sight of it in the forest. Too close, and you're either hacking through the lush forest undergrowth or sinking into the mud along the bank. Nightfall arrives to see you tired and dirty.
Watch order?
Istiel |
Istiel will take first watch, then Drazen, then Rock?
Imix |
knowledge: arcana: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
...Sorta. Suriname magic uses hydrology metaphors. It holds that magic is a lot like water. There are places with a lot of water - water 'flavoured' a certain way. Examples might be fire, or stone, etc. These are concepts with a lot of power. A suriname doesn't channel their own magic, they use repetition, crafts, and 'links' (think symbolic links) to form a 'channel' from one 'place' to another. Once there is a channel, no-matter how small, the 'water' will try to force its way through, enlarging the whole.
This means that Suriname magic has a LOT of bang for buck. It is extremely hard to control however, spilling over into things related to the casting. This is why fetishes etc degrade (the magic subtly warps them) and why there is so much wild magic (even if everything is done perfectly, if something happens to have added an extraneous link to the channel then you'll get unexpected effects.
Geography in the real world is largely irrelevant EXCEPT if there's a strong link to a place there. So a road used by thousands of merchants regularly might start to accumulate rough links to a 'place' of merchants.
"We appreciate the offer." Imix starts, then continues
"People will survive. The Frozen have told me they intend to make the One People. Melt everyone together. People may survive, but cultures will die."
"Eventually they will work out what has happened, and they will come for you in force enough to destroy you. I have seen the dark blasphemies their Flame-riddled magic can craft."
"You are not so old you cannot travel, so much as you do not wish to." Imix nods "I will not force you to come. You have the right to stay, and to die, if you wish it."
"Should you wish to come I will help you take what you can. If you do not, I will see if I can return once we find a new home. I suggest before then you carve a house that flies."
GM Belicose Poultry |
================
Desnus 3
================
As to your offer, the old man just laughs, softly, and shakes his head. "No, I've been here many winters. I've no desire to start over. Now, where will you flee to, Oios of Damballah and Imix the Suriname? And how will you flee?"
================
Desnus 4
================
1d100 ⇒ 93 no encounter.
Morning arrives humid and warm, the mosquitoes thick with the dawn light. Slapping your necks and arms as you walk, it is another tiring, muddy treck.
Midmorning brings a quandry: The river snakes north and east, while a lesser channel, likely caused by the spring rise, splits and runs straight south. Rock scratches his head, perplexed. "Don't remember this. Maybe we follow river south of here?"
nature or geography are appropriate.
Oios |
Imix |
"I would agree - normally. We believe these savages were conquered by the Flame. Allied to the Wo'tah. The same dark creatures that caused the breaking at the beginning of the world. We have fought their dark creatures - and I do mean creatures. We were attacked by silkworms mutated by their magic into abominations. They turned the water in our grove's spring to death - and I do not mean this poetically, as the water itself became poison. The grovekeeper they turned into an abomination of darkness and feathers." Imix hands over a single feather to Rato "Look at this."
"I thought long and hard whether to try to join them, and save some of our culture, or flee and try to shepherd some survivors to safety. In the end I did not believe they would be stopped. The Flame will burn, and burn, until all is consumed. Only ash will remain. They talk of 'one people', and I believe that will happen - and then all will die."
"If you stay to fight them, have my blessing. Any losses you inflict would be helpful." Imix gestures around at the sculpture "I will be blunt. I care little if you die in such a conflict - a single life is a snowflake against the mountains we have faced already. I regret the loss of your knowledge. Your art is unknown to me. When you die, so dies it."
"If nothing else, hide your fire. The Frozen will follow us to the falls. If they see your smoke then you may not see tomorrow."
GM Belicose Poultry |
The old man's eyes light up at the mention of the map. "A map? May I? CLACK! Ahhhh. very interesting. No falls. Just an unbroken river. Have you been to the cliffs? Majestic. If you don't think about what caused them. Yes, getting our people down there will be a challenge. But, not unsurmountable. CLACK! It isn't an even cliff-face. There's jagged bits, even parts that resemble a steep hill rather than a sheer drop, depending on where you are. Anyone not sick or infirm should be able to make it down, with enough care."
"I went south on a little sojurn just last week. Turned around when I saw a group of savages fishing the river. But, something you may want to know. The spring rise has cut a channel into a bend in the river. If you take the channel, you may be able to shave some time off your trip, as the route will be more direct. But, it may also have more hazards, as the river won't be as defined."
"As for my cookfires, I'll keep them going. It'll buy you some time, if nothing else."
Yes, I meant the CRB. Sorry, was thinking in old 3.5 terminology.
Istiel |
Though hot underneath her robes, there is one benefit to being completely swathed in thick silk- the mosquitoes are powerless to reach her flesh.
Istiel stops at the river split and folds her arms over her chest in thought.
knowledge: Nature, untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 5
she shakes her head slowly, unable to recall anything about this split. "We should return. Report this to the flotilla. We cannot make the way safe if we do not know which path they will take."