I suppose you two are here to pay off a debt, as well?...
Barega was taken aback by this.
"Yes. A great and old debt."...
Parasites? This hen looked quite healthy (even succulent) to Barega, but the elf certainly sounded like she knew what she was talking about... He moved to take a closer look at the indicated animal (Trnti).
...
He looked down at the halfling. "Er, sorry, by the way."
The halfling nodded his acceptance, still grinning slightly at the notion of this great creature struggling through the desert for untold weeks, in order to retrieve a decorated eggshell.
Barega was at first unconcerned with the human girl, but took notice at the mention of the Way, and of the fact that she was able to read the magic symbols on the egg. He edged a bit further away from her, as he continued to examine the edrlu.
Looking around and not having heard any other name than her own, she asked: Surely you have names as well? Don´t you want to share them? I have a large and old debt to pay off as well...
IC: He looked back at the old herder. "So what's so special about this egg, and this erdlu? Trnti, you say? I knew someone called Trnti. Once."
He nodded like a fool, "Trnti yes. She's very kind and sweet like the girl who named her. Very kind and sweet little girl." He looked at the halfling and then at the half-giant. "Well, little but not like him. More like you." He peered closer, "Kind of looked like you actually." He was now smug, "And she was one of your kind. You know... big."
OOC: OK, I'll add the arguments from Lalali to Ala'a's earlier speech. And no, Mahoa didn't know who/what you were supposed to do here.
IC: The half-giant is right, do all your animals have names? And where did you get that egg from? Someone sold you the egg with the writing on it?
He was perplexed, "My animals?" But quickly understood, "My children. yes, of course they all have names. There's Kalak, that mean one name's Hamanu..." He rattled off all 18 names before returning to the egg. "The egg was laid by Trnti but it's meant for you..." and lowered his voice, "it's got a message."
"I'm Gbaji," he says to the others. "Are we all here for the same, er... Why are we here?"
To the herder he says, "My sister was called Trnti. Who was the girl you knew?"
FYI, I'll be recapping tonight but I won't cut off the current conversations so have no fear.
I'll set up another little scene like I did in the current turn and let you all decide 'where to next?'.
Questions?
Game on!
To the herder he says, "My sister was called Trnti. Who was the girl you knew?"
"Trnti?" He scratched his beard, "Ah, yes. Sweet little girl. She was with that nomad tribe I followed for a while." He smiled at the memory, "She would always help me gather eggs and play with the chicks. When Trnti was born, I named it after her."
He shook his head, "She had this sadness about her but it all went away when she was playing with the chicks. Strong girl too."
Valsavis strode through the marketplace with purpose, ignoring all of the vendors hawking their wares and all of the scents and sounds bombarding his senses. He wasn’t here to make friends, he wasn’t here to partake in pleasures of the flesh or of the mind. He was here to find that old man and find out exactly what he knew about him. He took a moment to drink deeply from his skin, and poured a bit over his face and down the back of his neck. He slicked his hair back before pulling up the cowl of his cloak once again, protecting his eyes from the blinding rays of the crimson sun.
It wasn’t long before he spotted the herd of erdlus, and he recognized the man tending to them immediately. The old preserver who had saved his life. Upon seeing him, however, he was momentarily transported back to that fateful day.
… Screams… Quaking fear causing his jaw to lock and his knees to buckle as he stumbled about, searching for Shrasa… The acrid smoke stinging his eyes and burning his throat, or was that his fear causing him to cough and choke? He tasted iron in his mouth and tried to spit it out, but he had no saliva with which to do so. His mouth was dry, as if he had already known…
”Hey! You there! Make way or feel the bite of my whip!” Valsavis came to as he realized he was frozen in place directly in the middle of the busy thoroughfare. He sidestepped a few paces as a lumbering wagon ambled through the street. Shaking his head slightly, his resolve softened a bit as he reminded himself that the past was done and the present was his only concern. His scowl deepened as he resumed his march.
As Valsavis got closer, he noticed the old man was releasing one of his animals to a buyer with such reluctance that he was actually brought to tears. Valsavis’ march slowed as he watched the exchange. Lost innocence... Will I ever be able to feel that vulnerable again? I can’t deny that every fiber of my being wishes to be back in Salt View. Careless and free… He was brought out of his reverie as he realized wet streaks were painting his face as well. He quickly scrubbed them away as he once again picked up his pace. Am I losing my mind? Have I really come all this way based on some strange message in the sand?
As he finally entered the clearing with the herd of erdlus and the lone tree, Valsavis noticed a wide-shouldered half-giant and a fierce-looking halfling arguing over an egg. He found the notion quite strange, but stayed back, observing the exchange. As he watched an elven woman with long dark hair joined in on the exchange, she also appeared to be inquiring about the egg. Curiosity getting the better of him, he finally strode forward to join them.
”… here to pay off a debt, as well? The question is, are there any others - and can any of them read these erdlu scratchings?"
Valsavis speaks up, ”Yes, it says ‘Agafari bowl. Abbin’s Shop.’ whatever that may mean. You speak of debts, so I assume I am not the only one summoned by this man? I am Valsavis, and I mean to spill much blood before our time together has come to an end.” He says with a smile with absolutely no humor behind it, eyeing the old man with a hunger in his eyes.
ooc: That's fine Valsavis. Your post is quite sufficient. You'll later read about not making this into a chore and just enjoying the game. So go take care of your baby. Fortunately, my 'babies' are a little older now (12 and 14).
FYI, Zazia is NOT the old preserver who helped you all in the past. I just wanted to make that clear before others latched onto the wrong notion.
Game on!
FYI, Zazia is NOT the old preserver who helped you all in the past. I just wanted to make that clear before others latched onto the wrong notion.
Good to know because obviously that is how I had interpreted the recaps. Either way, I think Valsavis finally reaching the destination he had been lured to by the message would have triggered some sort of flashback. Now that I am getting a feel for Valsavis, I think I may play him as a tad unstable. Nothing too crazy, just a bit odd. And I may or may not play him as the hot-headed quick to action type. I have a feeling that if I do, he'll only end up dead.
And then there were five, Ala'a thought as the two humans joined the group. And a very strange gathering are we.
The halfling and the half-giant seemed stable enough, although the little cannibals could turn on you as soon as the dinner bell rang. Half-giants could be mercurial, as well, but this one seemed solid enough.
The female mindbender had the serene calm common to many practitioners of the Way. She could read, so she wasn't stupid, which meant she could up to something.
The male could read, too, and he might be insane, she thought. The immediate talk of blood, the dead look in his eyes - a wildfire burned in this one. Ala'a would have to be careful it didn't spread to consume anyone else.
"I am Ala'a," she said, standing tall and keeping her distance rather than offering a hand. "Once we're done here, perhaps we should all investigate this carver's shop together. If the old man has called in this many debts, he must be in some real trouble."
Lalali-Re gave the elf a considering look.
Smarter then she looks...might be a reliable companion, but should be watched. Should be watched, she is an elf after all.
Pictures of an elven raid on a caravan in her youth flashed through her mind, she pushed them aside.
Nice to meet you all. May our way be that of the survivors! I think we are already done here, or do you have something else for Zazia? Good point about the trouble though, Ala´a!
"Nomad tribe? What tribe was this? Eh, my sister was sold as a slave. Maybe it wasn't her."
When the man called Valsavis spoke up, Gbaji was surprised. "The egg has writing on it?" Gbaji squinted at the egg but it meant nothing to him. "Hey, how come you can read this?" Gbaji looked at the man and woman suspiciously. "You two templars or something?"
Templar of the solemn plains of dust and stone in the hinterlands you mean? Then yes. It´s so calm and boring there, you learn reading so stay sane...
Just out of curiousity, Lalali-Re tried to read the thoughts of the animals and Zazia... ...she squinted her eyes, concentrating on different animals and Zazia for some seconds each, as the calm focus in her seemed to vanish for some time. Only a deep breath later it returned.
"Yes, I realize it an uncommon skill to find among us, but I assure you I am no templar. The old preserver who summoned us here taught me to read while I recovered from my injuries. I actually spent all of my youth as a performer along Caravan Way in Tyr - chained to the whims of a minor noble of House Shom." For reasons he couldn't quite understand, Valsavis felt quite comfortable divulging the secrets of his past to these newfound assosciates.
Turn 002 us up.
Great start everyone!
Read the OOC.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Game on!
I think it would be useful to know if any of us gets a sense motive off of the child, or happens to know about the cloak rule from knowledge(local), or anything like that.
Has Barega noticed any people wearing cloaks entering or exiting the gate?
- the child seems to be telling the truth
- a knowledge local check DC=25 confirms this 'rule'- you can 'look now' and you see that people entering or leaving the city don't have cloaks or capes
- a perception DC=25 allows you to 'remember' that you hadn't seen anyone with cloaks or capes since you've been in Urik
- it is (and has been) pretty hot so it would make sense NOT to wear cloaks or capes (although templars wear them)
Roll on your own and incorporate results on your responses.
Other questions?
Valsavis is surprised to see yet another face join their group, this time a human woman. She speaks of The Way, so Valsavis is quick to give her a wide birth, uncertain of what powers she may possess. "I am Valsavis and it seems we have all been summoned here for reasons unknown to us, same as you. A debt to an older man seems to be the only bond we share."
As the guards begin harassing the old herder, Valsavis purposefully lays his hands on the hilts of his blades. He keeps back, watching the scene play out with interest. He is impressed as the elf woman quickly diffuses the situation with a few quick words about the erdlus being diseased. I believe a wit like that will come in handy... For whatever we've been gathered to do.
Valsavis echoes the elf woman, Ala'a's sentiments, "If that is the next step in this little game we have no choice but to play, then let us be on with it." Turning to the old man, "Is it common for your 'children' to lay eggs with cryptic messages written upon them? Do you know their source?"
Reddening somewhat, Valsavis' self-control begins to slip, "If we're to trust this unknown force, then what does this messenger know of the attack on my family? The whereabouts of my father!?" He chest heaves as his adrenaline pulses through his veins. Debt or no, you get the impression that finding these answers is his sole reason for being here. He may have saved my life, but I didn't ask for this life of torment. Valsavis' mind drifts back to dwell upon the many nights he spent awake wondering if he would have been better off to have died in the attack, his body rotting in the sands like the rest of his loved ones...
Distracted by his own dark thoughts, Valsavis couldn't recall if he had seen anyone wearing cloaks or capes on his voyage to the angular city. Looking around now though, he see that people coming and going from the gates were dressed much like the urchin described.
"I don't doubt your words, but why would I give my cloak to you and not simply stuff it in my pack?" He lays his hands on his blades, his gaze hardening like stone, his eyes dull shards of obsidian.
ooc: Just a couple of notes. I would rather you did NOT post for previous turns. For this turn, just post for turn 002.
However, if there was something that you want to comment and you missed your chance for whatever reason then bring it over to the 'current turn' and then 'remember' about it.
Example: As Valsavis scanned the crowd looking for cloaks he remembered the elf's quick wit. I believe a wit like that will come in handy... For whatever we've been gathered to do.
Of course, if this was something that needed further 'discussion' then also bring to the present.
Example: As Valsavis scanned the crowd looking for cloaks he remembered the elf's quick wit. He turned to the elf, "I liked what you did back there with the House Stel guards; your wit will be uselfull in whatever it is that we need to do."
This just keeps the turns more focused. Otherwise, it's like the scene that never ends.
Let me know if you have any questions.
BTW, I'll respond IC once a couple of others have posted.
Game on!
Seeing Valsavis glaring at the boy, Gbaji says, "Here kid, thanks for the advice," and flips him a ceramic piece. Looking back at Valsavis, he shrugs. "Reminds me of someone back in Tyr." He takes off his cloak, rolls it up and stuffs it into his backpack. "But I'll be hanging on to my own clothes.
"So, anyone know where this Abbin's Shop is? I suppose we should head there next. Elder, what about you - you know where this place is?"
- a perception DC=25 allows you to 'remember' that you hadn't seen anyone with cloaks or capes since you've been in Urik
- it is (and has been) pretty hot so it would make sense NOT to wear cloaks or capes (although templars wear them)
The halfling looks about, then following the others' lead, nods his thanks to the boy, and removes his cloak and stores it in his pack. He moves to stand in the shade cast by the half-giant.
Gbaji says, "Here kid, thanks for the advice," and flips him a ceramic piece.
"Hungry creature can't eat that. Ha!" Barega gives the large egg to the boy. "Here. Too big for me."
When the boy is out of earshot, he turns to the group. "I am called Barega. Yes, let us find this Abbin, then leave this place quickly, before caught in more Hamanu Code."
VALSAVIS POST
The boy recoiled under Valsavis' gaze, "No, mister. You don't under-understand."
GBAJI'S POST
He quickly pocketed Gbaji's coin and neared the half-giant as if seeking protection from Valsavis.
He looked up at Gbaji, "No, mister, no joke. If the templars know that you have a cloak, they'll take it and want to give to Hamanu. It's not safe to have them inside the city."
BAREGA'S POST
The boy's eyes beamed at the egg; his family would go to sleep fed tonight. "Thank you, thank you. I keep cloak safe for you too."
Turning to the old man, "Is it common for your 'children' to lay eggs with cryptic messages written upon them? Do you know their source?"
He shrugged, "No, not really but it's happened before." He looked like he losing his patience, "Yes, I told you. It's from 'you know who'," and then whispered, "the old man!"
GBAJI'S POST
He shook his head, "I don't know. I never go in the city. Twice they beat me up and ask for coin. Uh, uh, not again, not me."
"Like Hamanu really wants my old cloak," replies Gbaji sceptically. "It stays here in my pack."
Valsavis smirks at Gbaji's and Barega's offers of coin and food. But he follows Gbaji's sentiments and stuffs his cloak in his pack.
With the group seeming to be in agreement about heading to Abbin's shop, Ala'a lead the way toward the the King's Gate. She stood to one side, smiling, as the boy tried to talk them out of their cloaks.
I remember running a similar con outside the gates of Nibenay, she thought. The boy was convincing enough - she didn't doubt the Lion of Urik had outlawed capes within his domain. But that didn't mean the boy wouldn't sell the cloaks as soon as they were out of sight, or lose them to someone bigger and stronger.
"This? Oh, this isn't a cloak. It's a dancer's veil, don't you know. Or a blanket, I can't recall," she said, smiling again as she folded the ribboned garment and slid it into her pack.
Watching as the boy shrank away from Valsavis before accepting Barega's and Gbaji's gifts, she fished several ceramic bits from her pouch and held them toward the boy.
"Now, you little scoundrel, how'd you like to earn a few more bits to go with what you've got in your hands? Tell us what you know of the Agafari Bowl, Abbin's shop. Where is it, who frequents the place? Does he pay money to the templars or some other gang?"
"This? Oh, this isn't a cloak. It's a dancer's veil, don't you know. Or a blanket, I can't recall," she said, smiling again as she folded the ribboned garment and slid it into her pack.
Watching as the boy shrank away from Valsavis before accepting Barega's and Gbaji's gifts, she fished several ceramic bits from her pouch and held them toward the boy.
"Now, you little scoundrel, how'd you like to earn a few more bits to go with what you've got in your hands? Tell us what you know of the Agafari Bowl, Abbin's shop. Where is it, who frequents the place? Does he pay money to the templars or some other gang?"
Still with one hand in his pocket lest someone take away the ceramic he 'earned', the boy struggled with the large egg in the other hand.
He once more nodded at Ala'a's question. He quickly whistled over two more kids, younger, no more than 5 or 6 years old. He entrusted the egg to them and gave some quick orders before turning back to the elf.
"A guide? You're new to the city and need a guide. Yes, ma'am. I can do that for you." He reluctantly looked at Valsavis, "I can do that for you all."
"I know where Abbin works. I can take you there. But he doesn't sell wood bowls. No, ma'am. We here make the best pottery. He'll have a bowl for you that is much better than a wooden bowl."
Now truly taking the guide role, he continued asking, "So, ma'am. What color bowl do you like? What about food, have you all eaten today?"
"Get us to Abbin's shop and maybe we can eat after," grins Gbaji. "What's you name, kid?" He liked this boy - reminded him of Fero.
OOC: Gbaji and Barega, please update your character sheets reflecting the money spent on the kid and erdlu egg, respectively.
I always 'struggle' with wages but, according to the 'book', a trained hireling makes a minimum of 3 silvers per day, so Gbaji just gave this kid the equivalent of 3 to 4 days work of a trained hireling (mercenary warriors, masons, craftsmen, cooks, scribes, teamsters).
So he's a happy kid. I wonder who else saw the money exchange and you stuffing your cloaks in your packs?
BTW, just kidding on the money thing above. I hate micromanaging stuff like that so I won't unless it's a 'very special situation'. :)
Game on!
Valsavis' demeanor softened visibly as he realized the boy was more than just a cheat and con artist. He didn't let his guard down, however, and continuously scanned their environs for any threats.
Agreeing with Gbaji while still letting the youth know he had his eye on him, "Yes, let us make it to our destination before we discuss food."
Lalali watched in silence as the boy arrived and the others chatted with him.
She had other ways to deal with such situations, but had not seen a child for several years now. He seemed so vulnerable and fragile, why would he lie to them? She took of her cloak and put it to her blanket, as the elf seemed indeed full of good ideas. Too many good ideas...clearly she had some experience in certain fields.
What is your name son? There was no talk of a wooden bowl, those two probably don´t know others.
Turn 003 is up.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Game on!
Fabian
Having been so distracted by the summons from the old man and the prospect of finally having some closure with the loss of everyone he had ever known and loved, it occurred to Valsavis as they made their way through the imposing gates and past the yellow-cloaked templars that he had not been inside the walls of a major city since their harried flight from Tyr in the dead of night, so many years ago. How long has it been now? 6 years? Or was it 7? It seemed like half a lifetime ago… Valsavis was fairly certain this was his twenty-second year of drawing breath on Athas, although he didn’t really see the need in keeping track of how much closer he was to death. A natural death? Hah, at least I haven’t lost the ability to amuse myself…
Valsavis was astonished to see how clean and organized this city was. Apparently, these seemingly absurd laws that Hamanu had decreed had done some good in maintaining order. Well, on the surface at least. He found himself gazing at a gaudy mural of the sorcerer-king riding a blazing golden lion. He snorted to himself, before moving on with the others.
It was only when they had stepped into the courtyard of Potter’s Square that Valsavis began to see the urban existence he was more familiar with. The noise, the bustle, the bouquet of sweet, sour, stale, and acrid smells all combining into an aroma potent enough to make one sick if they weren’t used to it. This was the city life he was accustomed to. The fact that there were no performers singing and dancing along the stalls lining the streets or in the side alleys hit him with a pang of remorse and his steps faltered for a moment before quickly recovering himself. His hands seemed to itch as his pace unconsciously quickened – his lithe body yearned to burst into a flamboyant display of juggling and tumbling. He grunted to himself, loudly, before banishing the absurd notion. At the sound, Tano glanced back at him, but he was only met with an implacable mask and a hard glare. He quickly turned his gaze back to the square ahead.
As they entered Abbin’s shop, Valsavis remained wary of the entire situation. He couldn’t help but smirk when Abbin said to be wary of the half-elven urchin. As the dwarf discussed this secretive ceremony, a deluge of questions flooded his mind. He didn’t hesitate to interrupt, ”Ceremony? What ceremony? This is the first I’m hearing of this.” He looked around to the others, gauging their reactions to the dwarf’s instructions. ”And who will be watching us?” At that last question, Valsavis leans against the wall, cautiously peering out of the shop’s door for anyone looking suspicious.
Gbaji watched the kid head outside, then nodded as he listened to Valsavis. The human man was asking exactly the questions that Gbaji wanted answers too as well.
"Yeah," says Gbaji, "What he says. I've come here all the way from Tyr to see some crazy herder with an egg, and now a ceremony." He folds his arms and glowers. "Who are you people? What do you want from us?"
The dwarf went over and pulled a ceramic piece from his shelves but his eyes continued to dart outside. He offered the piece to them and made a show of getting some money. All the time he whispered, "I don't know much either. It's the ceremony that is supposed to start it all."
He pulled out another piece, a dish with a lion motif, "I'm hoping there will be more answers tonight. We were told that you were... Ah, how did he put it? Resourceful. We were told you were resourceful and could be trusted. So I think you are supposed to help in some way."
He peered outside, "We are being watched by some of the templars. Who knows, maybe even Hamanu himself."
Valsavis remains wary...
Gbaji listened to the dwarf's non-answer. It sounded like he was getting into something way over his head. Gbaji knew he wasn't smart, and it worried him that he was unlikely to be able to get himself out of any mess if things went badly wrong. The thought of Hamanu himself being an adversary - it didn't bear thinking of!
And yet...
Sorcerer-kings were not invincible. Kalak had been killed, and the Tyrian revolutionaries had gone on to beat the armies of mighty Urik to the bargain. He was a free man because someone had taken a stand against a powerful lord and won. And to what would he go back if he walked away now? Did he want to go on hefting bricks about for the rest of his life? Not much point even being free, on that basis. Gbaji was a warrior, trained to fight, not to carry loads like a beast of burden.
His mind in turmoil, confused and pulled in different directions, Gbaji turned to the others. "I dunno. What do you think?"
Ceremony? Hopefully the old man hadn't called them all the way to Urik in order to carve out there hearts as part of some blood sacrifice ..., Ala'a thought, keeping her face unreadable.
No. As irrational as it was, she still trusted the old human. But the debt he had called in was looking more costly by the hour.
Ala'a had no doubt she could slip unseen into the illusory fire. Valsavis seemed like the type of man that was comfortable in the shadows, as well, and halflings were known for disappearing - then usually reappearing with their teeth in your neck.
This one is going to be the problem, she thought, shifting her attention to Gbaji's massive form.
"What kind of funeral rites are common here in Urik?" she said, turning her attention to Abbin. "Are bodies burned here? And if so, how unusual would it be for one to be fed into this kiln?
"A funeral procession would be a way to feed our half-giant friend here into the kiln with no one the wiser. Then the rest of us could sneak in one at a time after that."
She motioned with her thumb to the door of the dwarf's shop. "We also could pay the boy and his friends to create a distraction, drawing eyes from the square. But I'd rather find a reason to get Gbaji close to the kiln before that."
This one is going to be the problem, she thought, shifting her attention to Gbaji's massive form.
"What kind of funeral rites are common here in Urik?" she said, turning her attention to Abbin. "Are bodies burned here? And if so, how unusual would it be for one to be fed into this kiln?
"A funeral procession would be a way to feed our half-giant friend here into the kiln with no one the wiser. Then the rest of us could sneak in one at a time after that."
"No, we don't burn bodies here in Urik. Bodies are interred in the City of the Dead, south of town." He looked at the half-giant in awe, "Besides, any cremation wouldn't happen in the town's kiln."
She motioned with her thumb to the door of the dwarf's shop. "We also could pay the boy and his friends to create a distraction, drawing eyes from the square. But I'd rather find a reason to get Gbaji close to the kiln before that."
He nodded, "That was a possibility. But I would be careful with him or any others. He may mean well but who knows if anyone else knows what he does." He again looked at Gbaji, "I understand he may not be good at stealth but what about a good disguise? There are plenty of slaves working at night. Maybe one of you could take his weapons so the disguise is more believable."
He looked at the group, "Surely, you've been working together for a while and have faced similar situations, right?"
Ceremony? What ceremony? This is the first I’m hearing of this.
...Ah, how did he put it?...
"Yes. What ceremony? And... is 'he' here?"
Are bodies burned here? And if so, how unusual would it be for one to be fed into this kiln? A funeral procession would be a way to feed our half-giant friend here into the kiln with no one the wiser.
Barega did a double-take, and gave Ala'a an appraising look. Perhaps these heathens of the young races had some sense after all? He nodded energetically at her while mumbling to himself in agreement, near the edge of audibility, "Oh yes. Seared on outside, pink in center, very good, very good..."
No, we don't burn bodies here in Urik... any cremation wouldn't happen in the town's kiln.
Barega calmed somewhat wistfully, and directed his attention back to the conversation.
He again looked at Gbaji, "I understand he may not be good at stealth but what about a good disguise? There are plenty of slaves working at night..."
"Hmmm... Yes. Carry barrel of clay or dung or wood. Look like warrior carrying barrel. Ha! Maybe act as merchant's guard, instead?"
"Actually, a couple of barrels of dung might just work," Ala'a said, nodding at the halfling's suggestion. "Gbaji could pretend to be a porter hauling fuel for the kiln. And he could hide his crossbow in one of the barrels."
"It would still help to have something to draw the eyes of any watchers elsewhere ... but I think I have an idea for that, if I can find what I need in the market. I'll see you all here tonight. Gbaji, wait to make your attempt until after you see me finish my dance. I'll signal you when it's time to go inside."
Leaving the group, Ala'a headed outside and asked the boy for directions to the nearest alchemist. She stopped along the way to buy a skewer of z'tal meat from a street vendor - it was a few hours old and had begun to dry out, but it was still a good deal fresher than the jerky she'd been eating on her journey to Urik.
She found the alchemist's shop easily enough after that. The man inside the foul-smelling shop was stooped and squinting, and overly suspicious of elves. He made her hand over two silver coins before beginning to pour the measure of dark gray powder into a small canvas bag a little smaller than Ala'a's fist.
She spent the remainder of the afternoon in a quiet tavern nursing a flagon of passable broy. At sunset she headed back to the potters' square, where the fire priest was beginning his rites as the potters fed chunks of agafari into the hungry furnace.
Speaking the tongue of flames, Ala'a asked to join the man in his prayers. As the potters began pushing trays of wheel-thrown bowls into the kiln, she began her dance. Whirling, she spun, arms rising in a wave that recalled the flickering of a candle. Minutes later, she collapsed to her knees in front of a tray full of urns ready for the fire. Spent, she let her arms fall across the urns in benediction - and dropped the packet of smoke powder into one of the tall vessels.
A pair of thick-skinned dwarves picked up the tray as she rose and bid the fire priest farewell. Spying Gbaji on the far side of the square, she slipped toward the illusory fire at the back of the kiln. Shouts erupted behind her as the urn she'd tampered with was placed in the fire only to crack and belch forth a cloud of smoke.
It's now or never, my large friend, she thought.
[b]"Actually, a couple of barrels of dung might just work,...
Very good job, than you.
Where are the rest of the attempts?
I want to recap tomorrow...
Game on!
Gbaji gives Ala'a a slightly pitying look. "You don't fire clay with dung. You need wood. But carrying stuff I can do. Give me some wood and I can carry it over to the kiln, put it inside and put myself inside with it."
Gbaji watches Ala'a climb nimbly into the kiln opening and hears the shouts as her trick makes the kiln on the other side belch out black smoke. Now or never.
He walks across the square, feeling very vulnerable. Under each arm is a barrel containing short lengths of wood - and also his armour, crossbow, bandolier and pack. He heads for the same kiln door as Ala'a, trying to look casual and hoping that the elf girl's distraction will be sufficient for any watching templars of sorcerer-kings to ignore just another half-giant lackey. He begins shoving the wood into the illusory fire and then, hoping no one is looking, grabs his gear and flips feet-first through the gap himself.
Still hesitant in participating in whatever this ‘ceremony’ might entail, the group appeared to have a clear plan, so Valsavis didn’t object. Their business done with Abbin, the group decided to split up and reconvene at nightfall. So, with a free afternoon Valsavis decided to do some recon on his own. Being unfamiliar with Urik, he asked around on just exactly where he might be able to find some information on the seedier dealings of the city and its environs. His only lead on who could’ve spearheaded the attack on his family was perhaps an agent of House Shom, thinking they were somehow involved with Nikolos’ murder. Unfortuantely, as far as he knew from what he could remember House Shom didn’t have any dealings in Urik. Still, it couldn’t hurt to ask around.
Valsavis huddled in Abbin’s shop with the rest, ready to make their move for the hidden entrance in the kiln. We still have no idea what this ceremony entails… Still, I can’t help but trust the machinations of the man who not only saved my life, but spent many--
Valsavis’ thoughts stopped short, when Ala’a began her dance of flame. He gasped, loudly, She- She dances just like Shrasa! His chest felt as if a thousand mud bricks had been lain atop it as his limbs turned to water. If he hadn’t been leaning against the shop’s wall, he surely would have collapsed. Ala’a’s dance brought back a torrent of memories of his loving sister, jubilant and carefree, the only light in those dark days of servitude. He slid down the wall, falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face. All thoughts of the present and, no doubt, the task at hand, had flown from his mind. For now, Valsavis was stuck in his reverie, chained by his grief to the gritty shop floor where he knelt.
. . .
Valsavis comes to with a great start, leaping to his feet and pulling one of his bard’s friends on whomever breaks him from his catatonic state. ”No! Noooo!” His chest heaving, his mind slowly clearing as he realizes that this isn’t Nikolos come to give him the whip once again for not bringing in enough ceramic. Nor is it the raiders coming to slit his through after finishing off Shrasa.
After a few moments of confusion, he slowly begins to remember. The summons, the crazy herder, the potter’s shop, the ceremony, and, most importantly, the plan. He quickly pulls away his blade, sheathing it, and averting his eyes, gazing out into the square as acrid black smoke begins to obscure the night even further. He coughs, ensuring that his voice isn’t going to crack, ”It’s time.” he says before trotting off to the kiln.
---
No, this is good. It's what we all came here for, right? Some decent character development that's difficult to do in other games.
The rolls... well they are what they are. If I knew how the story would end up then I'd just write a short story. All we're doing here is writing a cool Dark Sun story. Sure I have a rough outline but no real ending.
Game on!
It's still funny that the lumbering half-giant was more stealthy than Valsavis. Hopefully, somebody will point that out to you later. :)
So three in, two to go...
Barega passed the afternoon in the common room of a nearby inn, sampling local food and drawing strange looks. He watched the sky darken, and then left. On his way out he made a stop in the commode, in the privacy of which he retrieved a bit of soil from one of his pouches and traced it around his feet while waving his other hand and making strange animal noises, beseeching the earth to speed his travel . He wasn't sure what to expect this evening.
He then made his way back to the Potter's Square. When he arrived in the square, the kiln was blazing. He moved through the crowds toward the kiln, warming himself in the cooling evening. He watched the elf Ala'a arrive and begin her dance, and noted for the first time the presence of the Flame within her. He scratched his chin thoughtfully.
As her dance picked up, he noted that many of the men in the crowd seemed distracted, and figured it was as good a time as any to make his attempt. Attempting to stay out of sight by moving past the larger members of the crowd, he entered through the back entrance of the kiln.