The time had finally come. Rumors abounded that within days you would be taken to the Temple and receive your "elightenment". Only weeks before, your theory had been confirmed-quori overlords raise the inspired to be possessed when they reach adulthood. As a matter of fact, you overhead a conversation between two of the local leaders on the topic by pure luck. You spent the next couple of weeks planning your escape. You knew your best chance was to board a merchant ship headed to the Dwarven Kingdom of Mror Holds. The curfew bell would be rung within the hour and the overlords who go from house to house to make sure their precious vessels were where they were supposed to be. You made it through town without difficulty. You have one last step...
You sneak up onto the dock. Passes to board the merchant ship are held only a few yards away in the dock house. A guard watches the house and a female mans the desk. You can almost taste your freedom, the Blue Dahlia.
Initiative:
The guard, whose attention had been directed to the large merchant vessel behind the dock house, turns at your approach. "Hey! What are you doing here?"
Intiative:
Enemy<
Rhorn
You two find yourselves in the Mror Holds low on funds. You had just finished a two week trip guarding separate caravans from the Talenta Plains. You spent the last couple of days resting in Krona Peak. It is time to find work. As is the custom of the Dwarven House Kundarek, they have assembled at "The Merchant's Pit" to find their next caravan guards. The "games" are a way to separate the best defenders from the pretenders. It is why they are the only competition to House Deneith for having the safest caravans. The next caravan is said to stop off in Korth and pick up a very valuable asset. They are offering 50 gold to the winners and the rights to run the caravan. Only the strongest have been asked to participate today. Though the "games" are dangerous, there is rarely a death due to the help of Olladran Priests, who are quick to heal the losers. Mistakes happen though...
You two have been chosen to be teammates today. Across from you are a gnome and orc. In the middle of the pit, two goblin dogs are tighed off on 5 foot ropes. A crowd made up mostly of dwarves and humans cheers on from the ledges above. Bets are being hollered out. You can hear that your team is currently a 5/1 underdog. "Those two got no chance. Not against Dorg and Hammer! Give me ten crowns on the gnoll and orc!"
Champion of House Kundarak! You have been invaluable soldier since being sent from the forges a few years ago. You have recently been summoned by Durin Stonehand, Captain of Krona Peak's House Kundark, for an important job.
You arrive in town and are immediately sent to the battle pits where mercenaries are fighting for the opportunity to lead the next merchant caravan to Breland. It is a House Kundarak tradition to have their caravan guards earn their job in battle. It separates the real defenders from the pretenders. As you approach the pit, you see hundreds of human and dwarves screaming out bets. The outer ledges of the pit are completely surrounded. Shorter humanoids fight for a place to see. You are escorted around the crowds to the corner grandstand. Durin, himself, welcomes you. "Greeting Gyro. Pull up a seat." He points to the mercenaries in the pit. On one side, you see a large orc and a gnoll. On the other side, is a drow and a goblin. "Word is the drow and goblin are for real. I can't see it though. The are five to one underdogs." He hollers out a bet and then turns back to you. "How was your trip?"
"Harika...Harika." The familiar voice of Dantinel, the Head Priest of your clergy house calls out to you. He finds you quietly saying you prayers in the small sanctuary in the rear of the building. You have lit candles and have spent time in meditation. In a lower voice. "There you are. You have a letter from the royal family." He hands you a small folded letter with the emblem of King ir'Wynarn stamped in the waxed seal. He bows and leaves you to your prayers. You open the letter and read.
Dear Priestess Harika ir'Thul,
Your presence is requested at the Royal House this evening at dusk. Please present this letter to the guard at the front gate.
Moranna ir'Wynarn, Minister of Internal Affairs
"I've survived worse. I handle a knife well and know where to stab. If you wanna help out, flank with me. What do you do?"
The final performance of your latest play was a success. The play,which lasted for a week, took Korth by storm. You have suddenly become a household name in the capital of Karrnath.
Fatigued from acting multiple roles, you sit behind stage and rest. One by one, your fans are led in to meet you. Many offer flowers or scarves. Others ask for autographs or just a quick hug. Shortly after the crowd dies down, you hear a knock on the door.
"Olyvvar? You have a letter." One of your stage hands enters the room and hands you a small folded letter with the emblem of King ir'Wynarn stamped in the waxed seal. He bows and leaves you to rest. You open the letter and read.
Dear Playwright Olyvvar Merriman,
Your presence is requested at the Royal House this evening at dusk. Please present this letter to the guard at the front gate.
Moranna ir'Wynarn, Minister of Internal Affairs
The trip was nothing special he answers in a hollow metallic voice I do not think the drow and goblin will loose. Both races very cunning. Underhanded tactics. I will not bet though, I do not have money to throw away
Perception
Rhorn then speaks his voice sharp and curt, I am here at the behest of my masters, they have decreed that I am to go on behalf of Riedra to Khorvaire...
bluff
"Do I face the winners to test them? Or do I simply watch? I do not understand why else I need to come to the pits? No offence, I just do not see reason I am here?"
He asks as he looks on at the fight that is about to happen
-Posted with Wayfinder
She has all day to prepare, though, since her prayers are said at midnight. At dusk, she reports to Royal House with the invitation in her purse, every inch a noblewoman, from her clothing- a dark red dress with cloth of silver embroidery and a black cloak lined with red silk- to her jewelry, which includes both a brooch of her family's crest and her Order of Rekkenmark black opal ring. A not very subtle reminder that while she is not an ir'Wynarn, she is still from an old, respected, and powerful noble family.
The carefully prepared stage, with its silhouettes, mirrors, props and extra costumes to create the illusion of multiple actors on stage at the same time, could not be broken down and transported easily. It had taken Olyvvar the better part of a week to get it set up. After each show, he had made adjustments and refinements to the layout. So he was loathe to break it down, just as the crowds were getting larger and demand was growing.
No, this was going to be a limited engagement, and the traveling, one-man show he had developed while on the road would have to suffice. Olyvvar digs out and dons his armor, and layers over it the other costumes. He adorns himself with his rapier (it happens to be a real one, since it's always practical when traveling, and fake swords aren't as important when you are a one-man show), checks his appearance in the mirror, and sets off for the Royal House, invitation in hand.
The Dwarf takes a swig from his mug. So you don't want to put ten gold on the drow and goblin? A win gives you fifty gold! Let's make this interesting!" He pulls out five platinum pieces and lays them on a table in front of you.
I called you here because I have a job for you and I wanted you to see with your own eyes who you would be working with...how they fight." He waves at one of the other merchants who catches his attention. He leans over and whispers, "A very influential politician is involved. I need my best...man...on the job. Understand?" He leans back and points to the coins. "Do we have a bet?"
"Oh OK. Let me just go in and check the books." He moves and opens the door. "Hey Ariel. This gentleman says he is supposed to board the ship. What was your name?"
Initiative:
Goblin Dogs<
Orc<
Chetiin
Arcavic
Gnoll
The Goblin Dogs pick separate directions to run. Their leashes pull tight after 5 feet of movement. They arch up on their hind paws and bark at the two groups. Slobber drips off of their sharp fangs.
"Come taste my flail weakling" The Orc calls out to the goblin which causes the crowd to whip up into a frenzy. He moves up 5 feet and taunts you.
You arrive at the front gates to the Royal Castle. Three Karn soldiers stand guard, heavily armed. One of the guards takes the letter and reads it. He hands it back to you and motions you through the gate. Another guard opens the gate for you.
Once you pass through the gate, the third soldier leads you up the 20 foot wide rock path. It is getting dark, but you see guards littered throughout the grounds. After about 30 yards, you arrive at the front steps. A servant meets you. He is finely dressed in a royal suit including a top hat. "Name?" You give him you name and he turns to address the room. "May I present Priestess Harika ir'Thul!" He bows and motions you forward.
You enter the foyer and then are taken to the Great Hall. Close to a hundred people are already gathered. There is fine food and drink on the tables. Servants walk around passing out drink refills and heavy hors d'oeuvre.
Moranna ir'Wynarn sees you from across the room and excuses herself form her current conversation. She approaches you. "Good evening Priestess.
You arrive at the front gates to the Royal Castle. Three Karn soldiers stand guard, heavily armed. One of the guards takes the letter and reads it. He hands it back to you and motions you through the gate. Another guard opens the gate for you.
Once you pass through the gate, the third soldier leads you up the 20 foot wide rock path. It is getting dark, but you see guards littered throughout the grounds. After about 30 yards, you arrive at the front steps. A servant meets you. He is finely dressed in a royal suit including a top hat. "Welcome sir." He bows and then turns to address the room. "May I present Playwright Olyvvar Merriman!" As you enter the foyer, the crowd stops their conversations and claps for you. A few yell out praises. "Genius!" "Bravo!" Before you make it to the Great Hall, you meet the majority of the over one hundred guests. After about ten minutes, things calm down.
There is fine food and drink on the tables. Servants walk around passing out drink refills and heavy hors d'oeuvre. You small talk with your fans for awhile. Your eye catches Moranna ir'Wynarn cross the room and welcome a finely dressed Blood of Vol priestess about 5 feet away.
Olyvvar bows deeply and with a practiced flourish upon entering the foyer. He flashes a glitteringly white smile and waves his hand in the air at the praises and applause. He clasps his palms together and bows again, this time with a resonant, Thank you, thank you! You are all too kind.
He strides forward, bowing, nodding and tipping his feathered hat as he makes his way through the crowd. His fanciful cloak hangs rakishly off one shoulder, but he does not relinquish it to the servants. Not only does it complete his look, but it is also cunningly tailored to be reversed as part of his quick change routine.
Olyvvar works the crowd with grace and aplomb. He exchanges pleasantries and mingles politely, ever ready with a witticism or a bit of wordplay when called for. Accepting a glass, he clinks the fine crystal and raises it to the health of the king.
As Moranna ir'Wynarn nears, he raises his glass in her direction with a charming smile, but waits patiently while she exchanges greetings with the priestess.
After she greets Harika, Moranna's eye catches the fine playwright. She waves him over. "Priestess Harika, vee have a treat tonight. Zis is Playvright Olyvvar Merriman." She offers her hand to him. "Such an honor to have you in zee castle. The king and I enjoyed your last performance immensely."
Harika feels a tap on her shoulder. "Speaking of his majesty..." Harika turns and meets the most incredibly handsome man she has ever laid eyes on. He is decked out in red ceremonial armor. "Good evening Priestess." Something about the way he speaks places you both in a bit of a trance.
As Harika tries to catch her breath, Moranna pulls Olyvvar aside. "Vould you like something to drink Olyvvar?"
Olyvvar tries to recover from learning that the king had gone incognito to observe one of his performances. He places his empty glass on a passing serving tray and takes Moranna's hand, bowing to kiss it lightly while gripping the hem of his cloak the the other in a practiced bow.
Milady... he starts, but then their conversation is interrupted by the king himself. He turns to face the monarch and offers a much more formal bow (it's all about the placement of the feet). As he clearly had not been addressed yet, he remains silent yet enraptured by the presence of the king, until he is pulled away by the lady Moranna.
Indeed, milady, he nods, accepting her offer. And allow me to extend to you my deepest gratitude for this invitation tonight. I seek only to entertain, and it fills my heart with joy that my humble skills pleased his grace.
My name is Valis, my masters have decreed that I am to go to Karnnath, this decision was only reached today. As a result they have given me a hundred gold to speed along my passage, that is surely enough for passage upon this vessel.
bluff
diplomacy
He turns back and hollers into the dockhouse. "Says his name is Valis. He says he has a hundred gold." Muffled noise comes from the dockhouse as a female sticks her head out and looks at you. She heads back into the house. A few minutes later she comes back out. "Where is the gold?"
"Vee may just take you up on that offer later dear?" She turns and starts to walk away. "Come Olyvvar." Looking over her shoulder at Harika, "Don't go far honey. You are next."
For an elder stateswoman, Moranna is still built well. Her dress accentuates her curves. She leads you around a corner into a side room. "Shut zee door." She waits for you to close the door. "Sit please. Vee are in need of you services dear. It is obvious you are a master of zee disguise. Vee have an important member of zee royal court who needs to arrive in Wroat safely. Vee would like for you to travel with her and use you skills to keep her safe." She pauses and measures your reaction. "Zee priestess outside vill travel vith her. I vould like for you to make her look like a priestess of Vol. No one can know of zee King's plan. If vee hear of a leak, it vill go very badly for those involved." She pauses again. "You may speak now."
He chuckles, once again the metalic sound rings out
"if I had 10 gold I would after your offer. But my latest pay went into my new hammer and my repair tools. I unfortunately have nothing left. Luckely I dont need to eat or sleep. Or I would be in trouble. Heck, I might have had to fight in the pits to get some coin!"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Rhorn walks up to the desk and presents five small pouches of gold, each containing twenty pieces.
My ticket?
"And the job? You can take care of the precious cargo?"
Chetiin is waiting for Arcavic to run up as planned
"I will do my best to make sure the cargo reaches its destination."
He nods as he agrees to the assignment. He looks out of the pit. This might be an interesting fight
Gyro ruffles in his bag. Then pulls out 40 gold coins.
"Why not. 40gp on the drow and the goblin creature. Its a gamble, but why not" he chuckles and lets out a cheer
This was suppose to be a exciting, fun and entertaining fight. So no reason not to enjoy it
-Posted with Wayfinder
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
You enter the foyer and then are taken to the Great Hall. Close to a hundred people are already gathered. There is fine food and drink on the tables. Servants walk around passing out drink refills and heavy hors d'oeuvre.
Moranna ir'Wynarn sees you from across the room and excuses herself form her current conversation. She approaches you. "Good evening Priestess."
On seeing the gathered luminaries, Harika is glad she decided to dress for the occasion. It would have been very embarrassing to have arrived at a gathering like this in less than a gown such as she was wearing. She briefly considers whether that was the intended effect of the surprise invitation. This is clearly a planned event; even the Crown didn't invite a hundred nobles on the spur of the moment.
Harika gives the former Queen Regent a respectful bow. Not as low as she would have given the Lady Moranna when she was regent, and certainly not as low as one of lesser blood would have been expected to give, but a touch more respectful than she would have given a fellow noblewoman. "Good evening, Your Highness. Thank you for this invitation."
After she greets Harika, Moranna's eye catches the fine playwright. She waves him over. "Priestess Harika, vee have a treat tonight. Zis is Playvright Olyvvar Merriman." She offers her hand to him. "Such an honor to have you in zee castle. The king and I enjoyed your last performance immensely."
Harika gives Olyvar a nod of acknowledgement. She is a tall, pale skinned, statuesque beauty in the Karrnathi mode. Oddly, her hair is cut short instead of gathered in the long braids favored by Karrnathi women. Her gown is blood red silk with cloth-of-silver embroidery and among her other jewelry she wears a pin that is clearly her family's crest and a black opal ring that does not match the rest of her accessories.
Harika feels a tap on her shoulder. "Speaking of his majesty..." Harika turns and meets the most incredibly handsome man she has ever laid eyes on. He is decked out in red ceremonial armor. "Good evening Priestess." Something about the way he speaks places you both in a bit of a trance.As Harika tries to catch her breath, Moranna pulls Olyvvar aside. "Vould you like something to drink Olyvvar?"
Harika turns and immediately bows very low, much lower than she had for Lady Moranna. "Your Majesty. It is an honor. My father sends his respect and good wishes." Her father had done no such thing, but it was polite to say so.
"Vee may just take you up on that offer later dear?" She turns and starts to walk away. "Come Olyvvar." Looking over her shoulder at Harika, "Don't go far honey. You are next."
Harika manages to not give the Lady Moranna an odd look, instead giving her a polite nod. "Of course, Lady Moranna." It actually took some effort to look away from King Kaius and she looks back as soon she is done responding to the Lady Moranna.
"Did you enjoy the performance, Majesty?"
Olyvvar strokes his beard thoughtfully. He could hear the words of his mentor ringing clearly in his mind, 'Ware the patronage of kings and nobles, for though they can provide you with mountains of gold, they care nothing of the Art.
A measured smile touches his face as he prepares his response. Ah, no doubt you were impressed with the gallant personage of the dashing character Rip Hunter. Alas, he is a mere fiction, brought to life upon the stage. Indeed, were he real, he would make a fine candidate to guard the young princess and see her to her destination.
Knowing, obviously, that alone would not suffice to dissuade the Lady Moranna, he continues to his next point. What I am, as you have surmised brilliantly, is a master of disguise, a consummate actor, who has spent many years studying and refining the craft. Alas, I fear I would not be able to impart such gifts upon your noble by proxy. I do commend you on a cunning plan, but one in which, I fear, I cannot aid.
Olyvvar looks pained that he cannot assist the lady.
Arcavic's arrow misses the flatfooted Gnoll. Chettin moves up and draws his daggers.
The Orc charges Chettin. He deftly dodges both the goblin dogs' AOOs. "Time for a guttin'!" His dagger buries deep in the goblin's side.
The Gnoll move forward as the goblin dogs assault the orc.
Both of the dogs miss again.
Initiative:
Goblin Dogs<<
Orc<<
Chetiin<
Arcavic<
Gnoll<
A frown crosses the Minister of Internal Affairs face at your words. It is obvious she is not used to getting no for an answer. "Zo you tell me zat with all you skill in makeup zat you can't help disguise zomeone for zee King?" She is starting to get angry as her voice raises. A soldier walks into the room. "Do we have a problem here Minister?" She looks at you crossly and responds to the soldier. "No. Go Avay!" She returns her attention to you. "All zee costumes you do and you no can make one that looks like a priestess?"
The King doesn't respond to your comments. "You look lovely tonight." He reaches up and takes a few strands of your hair in his fingers to looks at them. He returns his gaze to your eyes and continues. "My aid vill ask you to do me a favor. I vould appreciate your help. I vill remember your kindness to the family."
"You're too late...betting is off." One of the dwarves taking the bets yells out. The battle has commenced and your team takes the wait and see approach. The orc from the other team charges the goblin and nearly kills him with one shot. The Dwarf you have the 10 gold bet with cheers. "You picked the wrong team Gyro. The Orc's gonna gut that little goblin!"
"There are no tickets, but for this much gold I will keep my mouth shut." She takes the pouches of gold and has the male open the back door of the dock house. Just out back is the merchant vessel. "I'd keep my head down if I were you. None of us are supposed to board the ships.
Olyvvar opens his hands in a gesture of supplication. Please milady, I mean no disrespect, but it is more than mere costumes and makeup I practice! I inhabit the role, from the inside out. I draw the very essence of the character within me, to then bring it forward upon the stage for all to see! This has taken me years to develop the singular skills that you would ask me to impart upon your charge. It would be a simple thing to dress her as a priestess, with perhaps a touch of makeup to darken the lines around the eyes and neck. But that would only serve against a cursory glance, not the scrutiny of one familiar with the faith!
Trying to mollify the Minister's anger, he puts on a show of thinking, bringing his finger up to his temple and rapping it lightly whilst pressing his lips tightly together. Hmm. I have yet to reach the point in my craft to take upon an apprentice, but I might be willing to spare a few hours to provide some pointers. I of course have nightly shows that will take me away for the remainder of the week. I can meet with your young noble in a week's time, preferably with one of the priestesses of Vol whom you wish for her to imitate. Within a fortnight, I could likely have her poise and demeanor adjusted quite convincingly, provided she is willing to learn, of course.
Trying the more diplomatic approach, she calms a bit. "I am no azking you make her an artist zuch as yourzelf. I just asking you help. Like you zaid...dress her, teach her, and travel vith her." She smiles, "I am zo glad we have agreement. You have until Zol (Tuesday/4 days)". She pats your shoulder. "You come to gates on Zol by noon and vee get ready for caravan ride to Vroat. Zey will love you in Breland and you go with King's favor!"
Her usually strong voice comes out breathy and quiet. "Of course, Majesty. Anything." Whoops. That was a mistake. She takes a moment to collect her wits. Being this close to the king has addled her senses. Her voice is noticeably stronger as she goes on but it's still a far cry from her usual cool confidence. "The ir'Thuls are ever at the service of the throne."
"Good...good..." He smiles. A guest bumps you slightly from behind. You turn to see a lady holding her hands up in apology. When you turn back around, Kaius is gone.
A servant walks up and offers you a drink. "Wine miss?
A moment later, the Minister returns. "How are you enjoying zee party Priestess? Did you enjoy hiz Majesty?"
Olyvvar puts on a broad smile to hide his wince. He had doubted he would be able to talk his way out of everything involved in this strange request, but he had hoped to minimize his involvement in this task.
I have rented my show hall for the full week, as I'm sure you are aware, and I am booked solid each night. Perhaps if she were to come and observe some of my preparations during the day, I might be able to impart the skills she needs, and thus absolve myself of the need to travel with the caravan. Certainly you understand that were I to go along, I would bring undue attention to the mission. Again Olyvvar gives her an unctuous smile.
"Vee have already replaced you those nights. You get one hundred gold to make up for you mizzed performances. Zee you Zol." She turns and walks out of the room.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Olyvvar rests his chin on his hand and harumphs. That happened more quickly than he expected. He wondered how much trouble this was going to be for him, and if it was going to be worth the hundred gold and the free trip to Breland.
Then his back suddenly stiffens and he scoffs. Replaced!? Me?
Setting his jaw, he moves back out into the party.