"They could see themselves as defending their land against trespassers.
I agree with Finch. Hiding in wait and watching us is not in and of itself a capital offense.
Let us call out to them and see if we can negotiate passage."
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Elsa shrugs
Doing that a lot lately she thinks to herself.
Fine
She then yells
OI! WE CAN SEE YOU! DO YOU WANT TO TALK, OR ARE WE GOING TO HAVE A DISAGREEMENT.
Zyrel winces, his large ears twitching, as Elsa shouts.
Several of the heads duck down, and rifle barrels appear poking over the rocks. One figure stands fully, clearly a mutant. The woman has large, segmented eyes and insect-like pincers outside her mouth clack together as she says, ”We only want your money! We’ll let you move on if you hand it over!”
How many rifle barrels does Lanatir see?
“We’re broke. Spent it all on weapons far superior to what you got.”
Gun in hand, Pumkin moseys closer.
“Talk to me, girl. Gimme a reason not to blow your head off like I did the last bandit that got too close. Or the giant bug.”
Zyrel looks thoughtful, and his voice takes on an uncharacteristic cadence "Ammunition is expensive! I will pay each of you one shiny gold piece to let us go." His voice resumes its normal tone "Or water, I suppose."
"It's a good deal. You should take it," adds Lanatir.
"What do you want with money anyway? Is there a shop around here? Water would be better."
Elsa just snickers as little flashes of electricity flicker on her hands
The bug-woman retorts, ”We’ve got you in our sights. We are not fools, we know that caravans carry gold aplenty. Our uses for your gold do not matter.”
P.S. says, “So did the last gang of bandits. You can drop ‘em, or just be part o’ the wake of headless corpses. Choose quickly. Choose wisely.”
Lanatir moves up to Finch so that he can protect her (and himself, and any other adjacent allies) by cutting bullets out of the air.
Succeeds if exceeds the attack roll.
P.S. levels her pistol at the bug-woman. The mutant bandit starts to open her mouth to speak, but it's hard to do that when your head is no longer attached to your body. Pumpkin's habit of impromptu decapitation seems to win the day, and the rifle barrels quickly recede from the rocks as panicked yells and shouts can be heard.
Elsa stares at the falling corpse
Are you really sure those "mercy" rounds are legit? It might be more merciful to hit them with an axe. Unless the mercy is a quick death
She shrugs
Well, let's see if the dead fool has anything worth taking
She starts walking to the body
P.S. is actually tearing up a little.
“I… deactivated the Mercy feature.”
She just stands there, still in shock, with mixed feelings of remorse and the understanding that a long, drawn out battle would have meant, at best, wounded friends and multiple deaths.
Elsa looks at the shaken gunslinger.
Ah don't let it get you down, Pumpkin. You should never look for a fight, but when you are in one, you fight to win. We are all going to Pharasma one day, so fight every battle as if it is your last. And if you and your friends come out the other side, win. If not, go with style
She smiles
They choose their path. They could have walked away.
With that, she checks the body.
Zyrel shakes his head "So the Mercy feature did actually make it less lethal. Astounding. Perhaps I should have investigated pistols, rather than rifles."
He sighs "As for these... Hmmm. They offered us a chance to surrender, making them thieves rather than murderers. However, we offered them a chance to make a days wages and save face, and they still chose violence. I doubt even Aakif could have talked them into peacefully standing down. Had we not been present they might have killed others. I believe your actions were righteous."
P.S. shakes her head. “No… the last two heads I blew off were with the mercy feature active. It can’t do nothin’ about a bullet in the brain.
“My father taught me to shoot. I just hoped I could be like him, take the bad guys alive… aww, but I don’t want to go all Debbie Downer on our win. I’ll be okay. Let’s get whatever’s worth taking and get lost.”
When she gets to the corpse, Pumpkin removes her hat. She says a silent prayer, then takes the woman’s rifle. She unloads it and keeps it, only to remove it from the bandits’ stockpile. By the corpse.
The party, working together, is able to discharge the elemental sigil and move the rocks out of the way. It's tough work, but the porters from the caravan help out once the danger has passed, and the blockage on the road is cleared before too long.
The rest of the day passes without incident, and the night is cold and clear, a shimmering aurora of wild magic appearing overhead.
Come morning, the caravanners are eager to get on the road, and after a quick breakfast they're on the road again. It's a few hours later that some clear signs of civilization come into view. Some farms and ranches here and there, covered wagons in the distance heading the same direction of the party. Afternoon rolls around and the caravan crests a ridge to behold a magnificent sight. In the valley down below is the city of Tan Serik, one of the strongest powers in the Spellscar League. High walls hewn from pale stone protect a neatly laid out city, large buildings topped with ornate, glittering domes. At the city's center atop a small hill is a sprawling palace adorned with an excessively large, onion-shaped dome. Multi-colored smoke rises from several chimneys atop it.
To anyone with an eye for urban planning, the city is masterfully designed.
Ah, civilisation at last Elsa says, a smile on her face.
I am looking forward to a quiet drink, likely after a bath
“A bathhouse sounds lovely. Mind if I join you?”
Sure. Hopefully they will wash cloths as well
"Swimming." Zyrel says wistfully "I miss swimming. There is a harsh beauty to this area, but I feel as if my soul has parched in this desolate place."
"I suggest we take shifts with our ablutions, with the other shift on watch over our supplies. I do not so much fear ambush and death in this place, as light fingered pickpockets and opportunistic thieves. If we hold off on our business until we recover we should have outrun any word that might stir up trouble."
Lanatir has seen impressive cities in his day - Absalom, of course, but also many in the First World. Anophaeus built on the feet of the god Imbrex; the machine city of Emergence; Selona, the great City of Amber in the tree Usu; and many more. Most cities have personalities, and with a little time and effort you can get to know them.
He takes in his first sight of Tan Serik, trying to get a sense of its layout and structure. It is orderly and planned, it seems, and he expects that it is likely a hub of innovation and invention.
"I will watch over supplies first if needed... though I would like to find some time to walk the streets later, if the situation allows."
Pumpkin considers Zyrel’s words.
“I think a reputable bathhouse would let us check our guns and whatnot at the door. Swimming in a lake… you might want a friend watching your things.
“I got nothing against a swimming hole, but unless you feel differently, Elsa, we could find ourselves a half decent bathhouse, as you said, and have a bottle between our tubs, and a glass each.” She grins. “This way, we ain’t gotta wait for our clothes to be washed to enjoy the drink.”
Elsa claps her hands, sparks flying.
A plan!
Once at the inn, P.S. makes arrangements for herself and Elsa. She’ll leave it to the men to make their own arrangements, but will gladly settle on a time to meet for dinner.
After stowing her belongings and giving her clothes to the attendant for the laundry service, P.S. enters the bathing area wearing only a robe (property of the bathhouse) and a ring. Her harmonica is in the robe’s pocket.
The tubs are full. The water’s hot. The soap’s bubbly.
P.S. has her back to Elsa as she undoes the sash to her robe. As the robe slides down to her waist, her back is exposed. Swirling tattoos with thorns and leaves all seem to sprout from a single source: a salmon-toned scar under her left shoulder blade, sloped slightly downward almost to her spine.
Pumpkin turns as the robe falls to her feet. Herthe entirety of her arms and legs are wrapped in thorns, with rosebuds on her feet and wrists. (Her clothing had only exposed the knee, and everyone had surely noticed the tattoos on her cheeks and what little her shirt revealed. )
Pumpkin’s entire torso is covered in fully blossomed roses, no flesh deemed too personal for the artis to ink, apparently. The rose on Pumpkin’s left breast uses the salmon-toned scar just under her heart as a rosepetal.
If Elsa happens to be looking, P.S. isn’t shy. She doesn’t hold her pose for long. She hangs her robe, pours a glass of wine for Elsa first, then herself, before stepping into the tub.
There is a soft ambient sound of chimes. (Emanating from Pumpkin’s ring, the sound is meant for meditation.)
Elsa looks, no modesty in her bloodline.
Nice tattoos. That must of taken a while. And hurt. I only have the two.
As she disrobes, a tattoo of a grinning fox is revealed on her shoulder and a geometric one on her forearm.
the fox is for the gang I ran with in Absalom, the other is a requirement to legally use magic there. Nothing like yours.
She picks up her cup, and with a gesture, chills the wine.
Do you want your wine chilled? she offers
After she chills Pumpkins wine, if she wants, Elsa settles in the bath with a sigh.
“A hot bath and chilled wine… love the combination.”
P.S. accepts, and she also marvels at the tattoos.
“You did mention the gang, but I see you cover your ink up like I mostly-cover mine, though for different reason.
“It’s the Milani nuns who saved my life and took me into their rose garden. It was an experience… a magical place. But I just ain’t cut out for the life, or so I thought.” She sips her wine. Slowly. Just a taste… “I guess giant beetles and ambushing bandits awakened a part o’ me I had doubts about.
“I still feel kinda sorry for ‘em.” The next sip is more than a taste. “How are you holding up, Elsa? Maybe you’ve already dealt with this sort of ugliness before. Me? Before’s just the one time I got run through. Training sessions aside, any scuffle beyond the age o’ six where I fought back, you were there for all o’ them.”
Absalom is a hard place. If you want to survive you have to be...flexible. The watch is corrupt, the gangs are everywhere.
She reflects, sipping her wine
I have seen a lot of action, and I have seen what needs to be done to win those. I have to admit I was surprised at your pistols though.
She smiles relaxing
It doesn't bother me much. We got out without harm, and only those who deserved it died. This was a good run.
Continuing she says
As for my tatts, I was in the Fox Skulk, an organisation with a somewhat shady reputation. I cover it up as some will judge me for it. The other isn't important out here.
She looks at it, on her wrist
It serves a double purpose. I can show it to show my licensing, and if the powers that be want to find me, they can track it. So I have been told. Its not magical, but still.
P.S. sips her wine. She is still remorseful, but she cracks a smile at the ‘surprised at you pistol.’
“My dad was One-Shot Finch, except his big collar still had his head on. It’s an old gun. Maybe the mercy feature ain’t what it used to be.”
Changing the subject, “Your magic is amazing to me. Lightning from your fingertips, chilling wine with a touch… if the bathwater cools, you got a way to heat it up?”
Zyrel looked to the others as the sorceror and gunslinger stride off together.
"Proposal: we find a reputable place to sleep, and arrange for a bathtub or two to be brought up. I haven't slept in a fortnight, and I'd like to allow my eyes to rest. Ideally while the rest of me is submerged. I swear if a Rusalka tempted me again right now she'd barely have to flash an ankle."
"Whilst I still have plenty of rations, it might make sense to acquire meat meals for the lesser-lived. Possibly pastries and other glutonous indulgences? I would not be averse to some fresh fruit. Lanatir?"
Zyrel looked to the others as the sorceror and gunslinger stride off together.
"Proposal: we find a reputable place to sleep, and arrange for a bathtub or two to be brought up. I haven't slept in a fortnight, and I'd like to allow my eyes to rest. Ideally while the rest of me is submerged. I swear if a Rusalka tempted me again right now she'd barely have to flash an ankle."
"Whilst I still have plenty of rations, it might make sense to acquire meat meals for the lesser-lived. Possibly pastries and other glutonous indulgences? I would not be averse to some fresh fruit. Lanatir?"
"That sounds good to me, Zyrel. I do eat meat, typically wild game such as venison or boar. I do not know if the game of these tainted lands would necessarily be any more dangerous to eat than the fruits... in any event, fruit and pastries are fine with me.
And an ale."If there is a reputable inn with decent food, he will have the food brought to the room. Lanatir has plenty of coin and is willing to splurge a bit, but he will do it discreetly and not flash his money around.
Zyrel shudders "I don't mind game, but the meat here... you just never know. They raise animals, befriend them, feed them, look after them, then..." he shudders again.
"So let us find a hotel, and send a message to the others on where to find us. Somewhere with a good lock."
As the party gets the lay of the city, it becomes apparent that the study of wild magic is a central part of this city's economy and culture. Though there are schools and research laboratories all over the city, the best of the best work for the Margrave of Tan Serik himself, Takayam II.
Takayam is an incredibly competent and well liked ruler, but he's known at times to be fairly ruthless in making sure that the city develops according to his vision. That said, his vision has lead the city to prosper for the 27 years he's been in power.
Takayam came to power in somewhat suspicious circumstances after his brother Takbad, the previous Margrave, disappeared with his wife and child on their way back from a meeting of the Spellscar League. The prosperity that Takayam brought, however, has made up for any lingering suspicions in the minds of the citizens.
I have heard about the guy who runs this place. Runs a tight ship, but he's competent and generally well-liked. Can be a bit sharp against those who oppose him, though
"I have heard of him as well. It is not known what happened to his brother Takbad - the previous ruler - and Takbad's family.
The people here have chosen to allow prosperity to push aside any worries of what Takayam may have done."
Lanatir says this with clear disdain for people who would make such a calculation.
It is their choice. And we should not rush to judgement anyway.
Elsa shrugs
He is a competent, well-liked leader. And we do not know what happened. Rumour is not evidence
"A worthy leader would have uncovered and disclosed what had happened to his predecessor.
A loving brother would have uncovered and disclosed what had happened to his brother's family.
The fact that it remains a mystery after 27 years is suggestive of Takayam's involvement, or at least indifference.
I do judge him as being unworthy and unloving, and I suspect him of regicide and fratricide.
I do not ask you to agree with me."
Elsa sighs
Lanatir, You don't live here, and likely have never been here before. I would hesitate to go against the will of the local people. And sadly, I think no one cares.
She focuses on the Elf
We are not here to foment rebellion and revolt. Remember that.
Elsa looks around
No one here looks hungry, or in chains. If you want to fight against tyrannical leaders, I can point you at some real monsters in Absalom.
Zyrel looks uncomfortable "I have no idea what you are talking about. As Elsa says, we are not here to precipitate revolution. Still, neither are we here to make the situation worse."
"I have no intention of stirring up any trouble.
I simply observe that this leader is untrustworthy and likely murderous, and that his people are okay with that.
Why would I try to help such people? As you said, no one here cares, so they are nearly as bad as he is. I am sorry if I gave you an incorrect idea about my intentions.
We do have business here, but we should watch our step in dealing with these people. They have no honor. Or at least a very different and inferior code of honor.
Let us do our job and be gone from here as soon as we can, while being alert for betrayal."
She takes in what her companions are saying… then takes out her pistol, removing one bullet from the cylinder.
♠️♠️♠️♠️♠️
She explains, “Cowboy load. The chamber lined with the firing pin’s empty so it don’t go off by accident. A noise like that might be the starter-shot for a riot.
“Best play it safe.” She’s ready to move forward if everyone else is.
"May I ask then; what is the plan? Do we simply go in, attempt to find an appropriate academic, and offer to hire them as a contractor to explain what may have happened? This risks that we may try to hire the perpetrator. Do we spend some time in the library putting together citations so we may discover more on how such a feat may have been accomplished ourselves? Safer, but slower."
While Zyrel's voice suggests he is neutral, his body language clearly emphasises the second choice.