"He asked for the ten in question. I wouldn't know about portfolios; I researched several books, eyewitness accounts, holy texts; I don't see a pattern.
I've only spoken to him twice, about two months ago. I haven't shown him my working models yet. He seemed somewhat knowledgable about them...he said the main thing he was interested in was authenticity; if I must pursue truth than he was interested in truth of form.I said, from my understanding, that several of these....creatures' form can be highly mutable; he said he understood, but again, truth of form is more important to him than attempt at expression."
Did he show you were he wanted the comissions done? Was it a garden; gallery, or some remote room in the manor. Would they all be together in the same place? Also - how heavy would the statues be in full size?
"I haven't seen the final displayroom yet; he gave me dimensions; rectangular 40 feet by 25 feet. He said life size was preferable. I told him that some of these, from my understanding, can be pretty big....so he said....human-sized then was to his liking.
I'd say (2-3 tons each) in marble; by in large.
"Well," says the sculptor, "if that's all, I'll be going."
He stands up to leave.
You meet Beldan and co. outside the church; sounds like he has a bay gelding riding horse for Pharsia as well....
what now brave bravos?
It's about 10 a.m.
"Yeah? You reckon I should buy that one? Is it gentle?"
"O yah chere," The wood elf laughs as he fends off the sudden flurry of affection from the horse that realizes it may have found it's key to freedom. "It's real frend'ly-lahk. Seems ta be in good spirits an' health too. Ah reckons if'n yeh scratch her ears, 'n give 'er an apple an' sum sugar now 'n den, she'll take good care o' yeh."
"Well, the meeting at the church was interesting, but ultimately won't lead to any actions being taken. Being nobles still counts for something, apparently. But if further bad things happen in town, it might be a place to keep in mind. We might try to get back to our mansion again."
"Also, Elgan - can you talk to fish? Sharks, moray eels, that sorta thing? I'm cookin' up a plan for that pirate ship..."
"Also, Elgan - can you talk to fish? Sharks, moray eels, that sorta thing? I'm cookin' up a plan for that pirate ship..."
"Don' know, ah nevah tried a'fore." The wood elf answers thoughtfully.
"Shouldn' be all dat differn', mebbee a lil differen' dialec'. Naw, dah bigges' probl'm ah' kin t'ink of is dat ah'm still accustum ta breathin' air. Cou'd ten' ta make it a mite difficul' fer speakin' undah de watah. But ah've bin practicin, seein whut water shapes ah mite kin take, in case, yeh know, Ocean needs an escort next tim' she com' ta visit er sumthin,..." The elf's voice fades somewhat as he blushes a bit. At least you think it's a blush, he has such a dark tan it's hard to tell."Anyways, Ah t'ink we're t'inkin' along da same lines. When we gets back ta da house, ah'll give it a try an' lets ya know" Elgan adds hurriedly.
"Even if'n it don' work so well, mebbee Ocean has an underwatah compatriot o' mine dat might be willin' ta lend us a hand,. er, fin,. eh, ya knows whut ah mean,..."
It's about 10 a.m.
Lifts head out of pool of saliva.
"Jist gettin' back mah energy. Guid day, whaur did a' fowk gang?"
"Bel went to see a man about a horse, and some of the others went to church, Stig."
An old one-eyed peg legged early drinking salt tells the dwarf.
"Harra th' dog buoy?" He offers Stig a swig.
"And nooo, hie anna roll't yar pockets, sap!"
<After a very long piss Stig shuffles off to find everybody.>
"Seek, Tenser, seek!"
Sniff, sniff, sniff...
Stigwold, I see you rise bright and early. Shall we off to find our group?
"Aye, lits go. Where the hell are they?"
He offers Stig a swig.
"Efter Ah sober oop, mebbe."
"Hi Pharsia - look, I bought you a horse. His name is Sebastian."
Heh heh heh.....that'll work.
The hungover Stig, the eternally non-self depricating Riese, the horsebuyers and the churchgoers all meet up outside of the church.
The sculptor heads off; before waving: "bye guys!!! See ya later!!!" ebulliantly and frenetically.
Elgan absent-mindedly scratches the horses' ears, waiting for the others to speak up about what they want to do next.
Lessee... I might have missed something too, of course, but I think this covers most of it.
* I think there's about two weeks until the pirate ship arrives.
* After freeing the sculptor, it seems like at least one noble family in town has an unhealthy interest in demons. After our run-in with Orcus worshippers, that does not look good.
* The High Priest of Orcus, the Resurrection Man, hangs out in an ancient burial mound somewhere in the Deadwood.
* The last Anderhoff brother, along with an assortment of thugs, is still on the loose. They are loosely connected to the cult of Orcus.
* Vander Anderhoff wanted us to take out the pirate ship and give him the cargo - in return, he would give Pharsia back. Of course, we got her back ourselves, but he does know about us and the mansion.
* An undead(?) locatah referred to as "Willy Walleye" has cursed some sailors. Though this might be a were-fish a la Kinto Anderhoff, we do not know if Vander is actually a shapechanger. The first two brothers were not.
* There's a problem with bandits, who are led by a goblin called Peacockcap. I seem to remember tat there was a nice reward for him, too.
* I think the church of Pelor took the horses.
* Altai's zoog buddies haven't come back yet. Of course, that might be a good thing...
I'll be more thorough perhaps later;
I left the horses out before.
The priestess tells you that they found 10 mares upstairs at the slaughterhouse that had recently given birth; no colts/foals/fillies.
The mares were normal horses.
The undead guy in the mound was in the Rushmoors; way north of the Dreadwood; about the northernmost part of Keoland. I think it's about 600 miles north.
It's 14 days until the full moon. I keep tally on that factoid at the bottom of my dungeonmaster's profile sheet.
That looks pretty good? I'm at the house alone, juggling kiddoes at the moment.
"Me ready."
I should like to take out Vander. He needs to be taken care of.
"Ey laddies! Gud te seeya!"
The little group sets out in the midday sun.
It's warm, but not too warm. The trip back to the house goes over with no event whatsoever. The day is perfect.
Tom and Will meet you in the common bunkroom downstairs; they're working on the rum and argle bargling over a card game.
"Noop! Nothing of interest whatsoever! This git just owes me a month's pay is all!"
anything going on that day? If you don't go anywhere but hang out at the house until the evening,...
The day lolls boringly by. The sun sets.
The moon never rises.
It is the darkest night of the lunar cycle, and the clouds coming in from the sea drape the sky in a palpable blackness. The wind is blowing and howls in the rafters like a choir of spectres. Needlelike cold rain falls intermittently.
At about 2 hours past sundown, there's a rapping on the doorknocker at the main door upstairs to the mansion.
"What the heck? I'll get that." Altai casts Mage armour on himself before peering outside. "Who's there?"
Elgan is lounging about the common areas, talking to his new friends (The mole and the bat) when the knocker is used on the front main door.
ELgan looks up curiously.
"Ah don' min', but ah thoughts dat 'civilized' peoples visites durin' da daylight hours?"
He turns to his little friends. "Wuz you expectin' anybody?"
Gittik emerges from his bedroom where he was sleeping, stark naked but holding his weapons. "Who that? Me tired tonight. Tell them piss off."
Altai opens the door to see a bald, pale man with jaundiced eyes, long gnarled nails, and incisors like twisted dolphin's peg teeth.
He's draped in musty wet greyish overcoat and riding boots.
"I look for Shanbalet, shir,... the Maushter off thish housh."
His eyes look at you like a starving man eyeing a Christmas ham.
I'll look at the ability description in the PHB II and see what I can figure out.
I'm feeling Klaus Kinski,.....
well, not "feeling" him with my hand...
I'll look at the ability description in the PHB II and see what I can figure out.
It doesn't specifically go over water dwelling forms.
So...Anything that lives in a swamp is okay--alligator and whatnot;
you can have the same swim speed as your land speed; you do the same damage as "predator" form; and you get no bonus whatsoever to holding your breath.
Altai eyes the weirdo at the door for a long moment. "Ah, Sanbalet is not in right now. Could I take a message?"
"Yesh. May I come in? I have come. (inhales, exhales excitedly, shakily...) I have come to collect the taxssssss."
The horse is in the entry hall; he starts rearing up and screaming.
Elgan, the horse says:
[spoiler] Elgan! Elgaaaaaan! That guy is evil man! Eeeeeeevil! Elllgaaaan![/ooc]
“No, you can’t come in!” says Beldan, running up behind Altai. He’s wearing a blanket and carrying his rapier. The rogue leans forward to Altai and whispers in his ear. “Guy looks like a bloodsucker with those teeth. I heard tell that they can’t come in to a house if you don’t invite them in … extra polite or something.”
"Beat it, taxman." Altai slams the door in the hobo's face before turning to Beldan. "Put some pants on while I go wake up the rest. That guy, whatever he is, probably won't take no for an answer."
"That wash rather rude..."
He scratches on the door...
"Heloooooo.......heloooooooo,.....I jusht want the taxesh....just a yittle bit...."
*Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and clutching his component pouch in his hand* "Altai what's going on at this ungodly hour? Is there a problem?" Yawns.
“Bloody tax collectors,” mutters Bel, hurrying back to his room. “Always knew they were bloodsuckers…”
He's beating on the door.
"I come, I get the taxesh....I leave! Thatsh th' deal, Shanbalet!!! Thatsh the deal!!"
Now he's over there by the window next to the door; his face pressed to look in; his mouthfull of fangs visible. He starts dragging one gnarled, clawed hand down the glass of the windowpane; it emits a horrible spinetingling skreeching.
"Thatsh the deal, Shaaaaaan baaa leeeeet!"
"Iiiinteresting... He thinks the illusionist is still around. How about this - we let him in, tell him Sanbalet's downstairs, and then jump him?"
"Iiiinteresting... He thinks the illusionist is still around. How about this - we let him in, tell him Sanbalet's downstairs, and then jump him?"
"You want to let that in?" asks Beldan incredulously, hopping on one leg as he hastily dons his clothes. "Tell him to come back in the morning!"
"Yesh! Yesh! Let it in! He heh....heh heh....don't put your pants on! Ha ha hee hee!" A tongue, caked with old slithy funk, longer than is normal on a man licks the window now, leaving a greasy trail.
“Gawds … How much is the tax? I’m inclined to pay him just so he’ll piss off…”
"Jushhhhhht a yittow bit of bloooood. Come out to play."