When the nausea passes and your vision clears, you find yourselves in a high-ceilinged stone building with a motley collection of familiar and unfamiliar faces, all equally soot-stained. The long room houses a few rickety wooden benches arranged to face a modest altar. There is a small pile of gold objects in the center of the room next to a burnt out fire pit. There are stairs leading up on the north wall, more stairs leading down on the south wall, a large stained glass window on the east wall, and a pair of double doors on the south wall, barred with a heavy wooden post.
There is a dead body lying sprawled at the foot of the altar.
There are currently villagers in the room, yourselves included.
Muirkhom pushes himself up, checking his belongings. His staff was definitely there - he was using it to get up. Feeling about his neck, the symbol of Midas he's worn since his mentor gave it to him still hangs about it.
Sadly, that's all he has, but it does mean he has all his belongings. That's something to be happy about.
He walks over to the gold pile, and looks among the villagers staring at it. "Listen up!" He bangs his staff on the ground. "I can see some've ya have an eye for the gold. Can't blame ya - gold fever gets to most non-dwarves. But now's not the time, got it?" He sweeps his hand across the ground, finger pointed to each of them in turn as it moves across. "Now, to all'a ya! I don't know what's goin' on, but when the doors are barred and there's a body in the room, I'm bettin' it ain't good. So let's deal wi' the important stuff here. First off - anyone got a bloody clue what's happenin'? Hell, any'a you lot know what the other's names are?"
The dwarf is amusing thinks the scout.
Well, I was just...I mean, I was going....I have no idea. Judging from your question, my stout friend, you too have no memory on how we got here. Judging from the faces of the others, I would wager, it is the same. Gul gets closer to the dwarf, and raises her hand to indicate she had no interest in the gold. She looks around for her father, then to the body. She crouches next to it to examine.
Kyrillosr wakes up from his stupor to the harsh voice of a heavily-accented dwarf shouting something. He looks around, from the crowd to the corpse to the gold, trying to figure out what was happening around him, but doesn't learn much more than what his eyes picked up from the beginning.
Replying to the dwarf, he adds, "Well, as for names, I know my own, Kyrillosr, but not much else. The orc has summed up our condition pretty well," still knowing nothing about the others in the room save their appearances.
No smell of bloody death, Imazael is grateful of that as she picks herself up, spending a minute straightening and bushing off her tunic. Her compulsions are strangely content for the moment, it would seem the vampire-soul within her enjoys being surrounded by stained glass, altars, and death.
She walks over to the altar, an all too familiar force pushing her toward it, and begins too look over the artifacts and sigils upon the altar. her hand brushes over one. The Cathedral of the Raven she thinks... odd, the symbol wasn't even a raven. must have seen it elsewhere
One look at Muirkhom's staff puts any question of the gold's ownership out of the other villagers' minds. They all resolve to never carry any gold.
These others are much like you. Confused, groggy, murmuring their collective agitation and fear. Now that people are moving, the delineation between sheep and shepherds is clear. Until the need for more leadership arises, seventeen of your number seem content to follow along.
Muirkhom points enthusiastically to Kyrillosr. "Good to meet'cha, Kyrillosa...loseer...Kyrill. Sorry, my mouth's not cooperatin', so I'll have to stick wi' that. I'm just gonna assume the sentiment's the same for the rest'a ya. Which means, second order'a business: introductions! If we're gonna be stuck in here for who know's how long, then it's better to be familiar with the people yer stuck wi'."
The dwarf taps his staff on the ground twice. "Kyrill here's already gone first, so I'll be next. I'm Muirkhom. Go about spreadin' the word'a Midas to anyone willin' to listen, and doin' whatever work I can for 'im. Who wants to go next?" He looks everyone over, gesturing with his hand for someone to follow suit.
My name is Gulirk. She says in a deep voice If you don't owe me money, you can call me Gul.
You also remember something interesting about the sigils on the altar. The tribe that follows the raven banner are skin-crawlers. The chalice Imazael is holding is said to free the drinker from their skin. Only the willfull survive the process.
|
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Phraanz gets groggily to his feet, then looks over and spies his half-sister-brother. "Dah! Good to see you are not among da hurt dere Imazael. Ach, Wat is dis? Gahdammit!" the big dhampir exclaims as he notices a hole in his shoe. "Dah! Stoopid leetle girly shoo it looks like I've been walking in da ahcid or sumzing. Gud ting I haf udder pairs wit me."
Phraanz takes a moment to change into a fresh pair of shoes from the brace of such that he keeps tied to a thong on his belt.
Taking the dwarf up on his suggestion, he introduces himself. "You are having da right of it, leetle dwarf staff mahn. I am Phraanz. Ya. Und dat is Imazael dare, mine bruhder. Und we are here to--" suddenly Phraanz gets distracted and forgets what he is saying. More so, Imazael's soft curves cast confusion as to the gender-naming.
He shakes his head to get his focus and turns back to the dwarf Muirkhom. "You are right to do da name-naming, but you are wrong to be tinking dat da gold is bad, ya. No, gold, it is da good ting. You can use gold to pick it up. And den put it down. And pick it up again. And den you put it down again. And den you pick up. And den you dat mebbe a hahndred? Ya a hahndred times and you get some epic pahmpitude!"
For some reason Phraanz pauses to flex his above-average physique. Did he actually kiss his bicep?
Yes. Yes he did.
"Ya, so mebbe you re-tinking dis gold-bad ting, mebbe? Ya, mebbe we can use it to mebbe break down da door, ya. Or mebbe dis man here, dis no longer living man he was deaded by a bad ting and we mebbe need to use dis gold to protect ourselves, ya. Or mebbe dere is mebbe a torch sconce so we can be holding da FIRE witout burning ourselves ya."
That said, Phraanz looks over the pile of gold, wondering if his argument could be made stronger if there was some individual piece that was useful.
Like a hammer. Phraanz had never had a golden hammer, but he was pretty sure such a thing existed.
And would be awesome.
Imazael's head rises when she hears the others begin introductions. she walks over, still holding the chalice. I'm Em- My name is Imazael she says, bowing slightly.
Sir Orc... Gul, would you grant me the honour of your company? I want to investigate downstairs, and you strike me as a capable fellow. she says Good lord, I'm talking like him
Among the golden objects, Phraanz finds a golden gavel with some practice, it may make a devastating pair with his tack hammer.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Like a darting cobra Phraanz's beefy arm strikes out and snatches up the Golden Gavel of Power! (or such has he named it in his head). "Dere! You see dat! Dat is a ting dat is good and it is not bad ya!"
Phraanz does a few bicep curls with the gavel then whips out his other cobbler's tack hammer and makes several impressive and surprisingly complex passes, each small hammer becoming an extension of his hand. Every person witnessing such a display become confident that, yes, if they had a shoe fitted with tacks by this man, that shoe would not fall apart for lack of well-tapped tacks.
"Dere! Now we can feel safe from da bats. And da rats. And tings like dis...and tings like dat.... And tings of dat nature.
Mine brudah, you say it is a good ting and not bad to go explooring da stairs dat go in da down-like direction, ya? Okay, ya, we can go dere and we can see what tings dere are to be seeing, ya."
It never occurs to Phraanz that he was not invited, and perhaps explicitly unwanted.
"More names! So. We've got Gulirk, or Gul. There's Phraa- no, put the gold down!" Muirkhom gestures toward Phraanz, looking concerned. "Seriously man, it messes wi' yer 'ead! That's just what gold does. Sure, ya can do whatever ya said wi' gold, but ya can also do it wi' an angry snake - don't make it a good idea! Not even like it's a good material for tools or anythin'!" He points to the gavel, then the pile. The madness seems to have set in pretty fast on Phraanz, but hopefully he has some sense left.
Keeping careful watch on the Dhampir, he continues. "As I was sayin'. There's Phraanz, who needs to put the gold down. We've got Imazael, or Em, who's Phraanz's...brother?" Looking at them, that is not a brotherly shape. If this isn't some identity thing going on (because apparently that's a thing, Muirkhom's never seen for real it himself), then maybe Phraanz has more issues than just the gold. "Look, have to take yer word for it, but I'm not seein' it." He looks among the rest, and sees mostly vacant faces. He's not going to get much from them.
"We can save the rest'a the introduction's for when yer not so groggy. Right now, look around, see what ya can figure out, and be careful. We don't know what's happenin', and I hear talk'a acid, so it's in yer best interests to find out if we have a problem. Get on it!" He bangs his staff on the ground twice as a dismissal.
Imagine if people listened this much to him normally. Phraanz seems more like his usual crowd.
Actually, Phraanz in mind..."Listen man, the madness pretty clearly has ya in it's grip, and I doubt I'll get that off ya. If yer gonna be carryin' gold, I gotta keep an eye on ya. Stuff makes people crazy, I've seen a good man killed because'a it. Now, yer...brother...has downstairs handled. Can ya come upstairs wi' me?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Imazael's head rises when she hears the others begin introductions. she walks over, still holding the chalice. I'm Em- My name is Imazael she says, bowing slightly.
Sir Orc... Gul, would you grant me the honour of your company? I want to investigate downstairs, and you strike me as a capable fellow. she says Good lord, I'm talking like him
Actually it's Lady Orc she says without an accusatory tone, which might indicate she corrects people regularly. She continues to examine the body. I'd be happy to go with, but let me finish here first.
She waves the half-vamp over. Look at this. His shoes are burned through with acid, and his clothes are clean. The only clean clothes here.
She gathers the nails from the dead man's pockets and slips all but one into her pocket. You can see her gently lift the dead man's head and free something around his neck. Using the nail in her hand, she tries to pry the locket open.
It seems like we all took actions that we don't remember. I just hope this man wasn't murdered by one of us. She waves to the window. Can you look out the window and tell me if you see anything. Your kind has better eyesight than me.
|
|
Phraanz's gaze had wondered back over to Imazael, and he was only really half-listening as the dwarf spoke. However, he did clearly hear the phrase "yer gonna be carryin' gold" and then nods, deciding he'd be nice and do as the dwarf suggested.
"Ya, okay, ya. You want to be carrying da moar gold to work da gluts and da quads and get da maximum pahpitude, ya? Ya, okay, dat is good idea. Legs are ver'y hard to work, very hard to get ripped and shredded and geeked and pahpmed. Ya, okay, we can take a leetle moar, leetle dwarf staff mahn, but not too much more, dee others will probl'y want some too to work on dere own pahmpness."
Acting quickly, Fraanz picks some other minor thing from the pile of gold items, something that can be looped through the thong on his belt where he carries the shoes. He doesn't really care what, it could be a candelabra, it could be a wall sconce, but any amount of more weight is better than not...until you reach muscle failure.
"Ya, okay, we are good noaw. You udder peeples you can take some if you want to also work da gluts and quads and increase your maximum pahmposity, ya."
Small hammer in each hand, Phraanz begins heading for the downstairs, but then does remember something the dwarf said, and comments on it as they head downward.
"Why are you tinking dat da gold is like an angry snake, ya? Dat is ver'y odd ting to say. Ya, hear me now and listen to me latah, you mebbe tink dat da -lack- of gold is messing wit your head?"
"ARE YA FRICKIN' KIDDIN' ME?!" He wasn't listening. Of course he wasn't. "What's it gonna take for ya to leave the bloody gold alone?! I will wrestle the stuff off ya if I have to!" And he meant it.
Assuming he doesn't bash him over the head first.
Now that you think of it, Gulirk, you remember one of these faces. Someone here owes you a kiss. They probably dismissed it as a joke, but it was significant enough to you to pierce the veil of time and space and be the only thing you remember about any of these pink-skins. What's that about?
Phraanz casually fills the rest of his Load with a gold candelabra there are a few of those.
There’s a single, banging knock at the barred double doors, followed by a near-complete silence around the room. One of the villagers drops a single gold coin from the pile. Their expression is one of abject terror as everyone watches the coin roll to a stop at Muirkhom's foot. Just before any of you let out your breaths, there come another three knocks. Kyrillosr hiccups.
"Hey! Lassiter, we know you're in there. Open up. It's us." The voice from outside is rough. Those of you with xenophobic tendencies recognize the accent as not yours, and therefore probably dangerous.
Gul pockets the locket and nail. She rises and waves her hands at the others. Shhhh. She whispers, Imazael, let's go upstairs, there may be a window overlooking the door. Maybe we can get a look at them.
The Orc maiden races upstairs.
Rather than opening as expected, a the stem of a key flips out of the body of the locket
Lady, I apologize. Imazael says, not unfamiliar with the mistake herself. Then phraanz starts talking... one wonders where he developed his diction, if it can be rightly called that. He rushes towards the lower level, and Imazael is about to suggest that Gul accompany her upstairs instead, when the banging starts, and she suggest it herself.
Good idea Imazael says, stuffing the chalice into her cloak, and rushing upstairs, letting the orc lead, however.
Kyrillosr looks around at the rest of the people in the room. "Is any of you here Lassiter?" he whispers to the group of villagers, hoping not to be heard once again by the voice outside. "And do you know what that person wants?"
Imazael blames someone for losing that thing. Who lost what? It was really important... not personally, per se, but it's just a matter of principal, really. There was an important thing, and it was lost by someone who's name isn't Imazael. She knows who it was though.
Looking at all the strange and grimy faces, Kyrillosr remembers he swore an oath with someone and therefore trusts them implicitly. Funny just what a face or a name can dredge up from the rapidly collapsing cosmic maelstrom.
Kyrill's inquiry is met with a few moments of blank looks. Then, a few of the villagers look down at the dead body. Your guess is as good as theirs.
Muirkhom continues to glare a moment as the knocking starts. He spots the coin. Picks it up. And looks back at the pile to see the guilty villager who was taking it. He looks back to Phraanz. "I'll get to ya later." He marches over to the villager, chucks the coin in the pile, and stares them down. He leans in close to the poor sod, voice low and tone threatening. "Now, what did I tell ya about the gold? I'm pretty sure I made it clear to leave it alone. Now, ya don't wanna listen to me, fine. But next time I catch ya wi' yer hand in the gold, yer gonna be spewin' all over it. Got it? Glad we had this talk." He shoves the villager back.
He keeps an eye on the rest of them, but mostly he's listening. Paying attention to things. The door was barred for a reason - these people may well be it. And judging from the response to Kyrill's questioning, if it's not just Lasseter hiding in the crowd, then they're really in no position to tell us.
Carefully, Muirkhom approaches the door, staff held in both hands. He sniffs the air by the door, and listens.
Judging from the villagers who looked down at the dead body, Kyrillosr starts to suspect the worse: that the voice at the door was a friend of the slain.
"So... Lassiter is that...?" he continues in the quietest audible whisper he can muster, not daring to say corpse, lest he be heard.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Gul's leather tunic bounces up and down as she strides up the stairs. Her bare sinewy legs move gracefully Her green silky skin begs for touching from admiring eyes. She stops and turns to Imazael.
You lost the bet, you know. She smiles. Her lower canines somehow seem to sharpen as they protrude past her upper lip. Gul steps down a few stairs so they are eye to eye. They were far enough for privacy.
Gul moves her hand to the small of her back. Her thumb caresses her. The orc reaches up with her other hand to meet Imazael's cheek. Softly. Powerfully. I can't think of a better time to collect.
Muirkhom endeavors to protect (Phraanz, I hope) from himself and focuses his considerably average skills of observation on the task of being aware of gold dangers. Whoever is outside does not carry gold with them. That much is clear. They are carrying food though. They seem like good enough folk to you. I mean, goblins don’t make a habit of carrying around bread. Your stomach wrings itself out at the smell of yeast and crust. You, and you would guess the other villagers as well, are going to need food sooner or later.
Yeah, that’s the guy that brought you all here. WeylandLassiter, you remember because it was so hard to say. He said he had a way to stop the celestial riptide- he called it something else… What’s important, though, is that you guys and Lassiter were friends, and that Lassiter had another friend. Yutani? You're really not as sure about that.
Goblins? Oh thank Midas, it's just goblins. He never understood the problem people had with them - he'd worked plenty with goblins in the past, and they were always eager to help do Midas's work. Far more trustworthy with gold than elves and halflings ever were, and generally alright to be around. Garnyl always spoke well of their kind.
They even brought food for this Lasseter guy! Why do people complain about them so much? Once Midas walks the land, he'll have to ask for some help for the goblins. All this racist crap they deal with is ridiculous.
Friendliness of those outside assured in his mind, Muirkhom starts heaving at the post blocking the door.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
When the Orc stops, and grabs her, her heart stars racing. oh lord, what's happening
then her hand lands on her back, and another on her cheek... just like him, and her fangs glisten...
Imazael's eyes glow brilliant green as she shoves the orc aside, her free hand curving into a claw, before reason reasserts itself, and she leaves her combative stance. I'm sorry, don't do that again She says Let's keep moving.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Gul's blood burns. She bares her teeth as Imazael bears hers. The rejection splinters soft feelings into hard rage. Ready to kill when she relents,
It's what I get for flirting with a corpse. She snarls. The orc starts down the stairs. She pauses and looks back at Imazael with regret, then hurries to the main level. She starts to sob.
In the sea of faces, Krenin spots someone who he lied to about his family.
The fire looks a lot like the work of an Ifrit. Someone must have chased one out of the mountain. If they can be captured, it would be good news for the gnomes.
Imazael moves quickly behind the orc, smarting at the corpse comment. I'm not a corpse, not one of them. and she just grabbed me, I wasn't in the wrong... I'm not. she assures herself as she ascends the staircase.
“Look, we brought the stuff, where’s the… thing?” They don’t see Lassiter’s body yet.
There is a room behind the gnomes.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Imazael strides over to the balcony, cloak flowing behind her, and she carefully leans over, slow enough that, if there is light present, her shadow won't dash across the ground, and examines the situation on the ground.
She notices that her right hand is clutched to her breast, and it takes a moment for her to process why. She had done it to hold her necklace there, except it wasn't there. it was the holy symbol of the sun god Ibris. wooden with gold plating, not cheap, but worth it on the off chance that glorified leech decided to return. The dwarf had asked to see it, probably wanted to see which god it was from or some other pilgrimly thing. I handed it to him... and the wee bastard hadn't given it back when everything went wonky. she remembers.
resolving to retrieve it as soon as she was done up here, she walked over to the door , and readying her axe and drawing it open
"And Muirkhom... goblins are trustworthy with gold, right? So don't worry about paying with gold. All will be well," Kyrillosr says, trying not to draw attention to their actual race, and standing himself next to Krenin, also, hiding the body.
|
|
Phraantz took so long to get down the stairs because he was doing lunges all the way down, with deltoid raises, 'cause too many people neglect the delts. Can't neglect the delts!
Finally feeling like he has time and weight enough to -reallly- get in to himself, he stops and, quiet as can, bends down and peers through the slightly ajar oak door.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Gul enters first and quietly moves to one of the sides and looks out over the lower room. She wipes her eyes as Imazael comes in and moves to the other side of the balcony. Gul stares at her she pretends she doesn't notice me.
A flood of memories whirl about her mind. The orc shakes her head to put the swirl to rest. It is an attempt to put them in their proper corners of her psyche. She looks out and smiles at the sight of the gnomes
After a few moments, She watches Imazael head to the door.
Not going to say a word Emma?
Gul can see Imazael's eyes say How did you know my old name. My secret name
Gul looks at Imazael with mock surprise. You didn't see that one coming did you? The orc moves to balcony door.
You don't remember anything do you? Gull shakes her head and opens the door.
Speaking in a matter of fact tone. You're such a dumbass
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Muirkhom may be hardy, but dammit, even a dragon would feel the effect of a stubbed toe. The dwarf hops about, clutching his foot, and then proceeds to fall over. He picks himself up to hear Kyrillosr talking about the goblins. Wait, he wasn't throwing slurs? He even knew goblins were good with gold. He was sure he never told him, so that must mean...
"Kyrill! Right you are! I had no idea ya were faithful!" He walks right up to the merman with a delighted expression, not even spotting the trio of gnomes goblins as he walked past. "Glad to see someone knows the good word'a Midas. How'd the faith reach ya? I confess, the ways'a merfolk are beyond me, so I know little'a the faiths'a yer 'ome. How much do ya know? I'll be 'appy to teach ya anythin' that didn't reach ya."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
I believe I've asked you not to call me that. She says, turning to face the orc. I remember plenty. You're talking about the traders fair, trying to collect on a bet made in jest 3 years ago..
Her eyes soften. listen, I'm sorry I shoved you, it was unnecessary. But you know what happened, with lord Boor the Wanker or whatever. She tilts her head to the side, showing off the scars from Borak's predations Did you really think grabbing me was a great idea? she asks.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The good word'a Midas? How unfamiliar that sounded. Kyrillosr didn't think he had heard that before, but in the situation he found himself, he wasn't sure of much. Maybe he actually did know of him. In any case, he didn't want to disappoint the dwarf.
"Right, Midas. I don't know much, I must confess. But I know about... the gold? And, hmm, I bet he would disapprove of nudity too, right?" Kyrillosr says, trying to recall everything known to him about religion.