.
Ib whispers quietly. Oy lads what should be be doin
Chords of a piano are being played, a minor key. The voice of an old man begins to speak over the piano a soft calming voice. “Lets begin with a question it might sound simple to you at first, but I pray you think about. What distinguishes a free man from a slave? For now however we must start this story where another one ended three years ago, with the death of the Lightborn. For four thousand years they had reigned over this world, seven arcanist who through their magic had acquired eternal life. In a time of chaos they gave mankind what they thought it needed most. They ruled over it with an ironclad fair hand. Within just one century they united the shattered lands, and a single century later their human origin was forgotten. They became gods or Lightborn as they let themselves be worshiped as. Yet the longer they reigned the louder the voices grew that accused them of tyranny. The loudest being that of Narathzul Arantheal, and he succeeded in achieving what was once thought impossible. He gathered an army overthrew the Lightborn and gave back freedom to mankind. However the price for this was high because where there are gaps of power, fights erupt. As such this world grew to what it is today, shattered, riven, and broken into pieces. But, all of this was merely a diversion so that no one would notice something else. The death of the Lightborn had set something into motion. Clockwork, having long stood still, its gears now once again slowly began to turn. This is the story of a group of people, who wanted to be free.”
You look around to see the dank storage area in the brig of the ship you have been stowaway aboard for two weeks, hoping to escape the civil war going on in Nehrim to the continent of Enderal. Beside you are several other stowaway’s that you met when you boarded the ship including a man calling himself Sirius who helped you sneak aboard the ship. You have been living off stale bread and water during your journey and only a small candle to illuminate the pitch black cargo hold.
Pressed against the inside of the ship's hull and next too an old water barrel, motionless and deep in the shadow's had become Poppo's favorite spot these past two weeks. Most of the others often forgot he ways even there, and that's the way he liked it. Quiet, unnoticed. Growing up on the mean streets of Ostian had taught him that. The less you were noticed the more you were left alone. But civil war has a way of overturning all the hiding places and even his best hidey holes weren't safe anymore. When Sirius began to talk about fleeing to Enderal, Poppo had to seriously consider it. He had heard the old man's word spoken before on the street and taverns of Ostian, What distinguishes a free man from a slave?
Poppo sat there and pondering on it a long time, like he had many times before. Quiet He said in a little whisper, that didn't sound any different than a rat squeak. A free man can enjoy quiet, a slave never can. he thought to himself.
So when Sirius said it was time, he sold all his meager possessions to make it happen. He gave half the gold to his Momma and the other half to Sirius to help bribe the harbour master to look the other way. He gave his old rusty lock picks to his youngest brother, and his trusty knife to his his other younger brother. Sirius had said Don't let them catch with yer tools or even a knife, if they do they'll know your skills and lock ya away. The only thing little Poppo kept, well beside his old leather boots, warm woolen socks, holey britches, tater but comfy shirt, and moth-eaten cloak, all in hues of popper browns; was a single copper. The first he ever pinched, it was never far from his fingers. When he knew no one was watching he would work it from finger to finger to keep them nimble, first the left hand then the right, and then back. He could even do that trick with his toes. But he didn't dare take off his boots, cause he didn't want to give the rats any snacks. Truth is he preferred to be bare-foot like his kin usually where, but sometimes boots were needed and the warm socks help keep him from freezing.
He loved a good warm fire and now he thought of the last time he saw his momma, beside a nice warm glow of hard earned embers. Momma, he told her, I'm going with Sirius to Enderal, and once I make my fortune there, I'll bring a ship back to Nehrim to get you and my brothers and of course lil Pip too. Momma had said I know ya will Poppo. But her sad eyes told another story, a story that said I'll never see you again son.
But Poppo had an optimism about him. Now if he could just find a way to keep that old man, bobie, from speaking too loudly, and keep the hobgoblin from killing him, then maybe he might make it after all.
Quiet is best. He thought as he tried to blend in with the wall. His blonde hair was as dirty and brown as his cloak, and his face was smudged black. But he didn't mind, times had been tougher than this for him before, and probably would be again.
|
I am too old for this crap thought Bobie. Life had been good. working as a grave digger in the midst of a civil war and plague meant there was plenty of work. And then she came. Most thought of the god Eronod as a male, but I knew her true name Eronodina. For she was the one who called him. I had been filling in the grave of ... well those details are blurry and not important, when she arrived. She appeared sad and pale, but beautiful in a long black dress of mourning, for what else would the god of life and death wear, for life and death are full of mourning. She had deliberately and carefully reached out and handed me a small brown crisp pastry. I ate it and found a small piece of paper inside. I looked down to read it and it said "DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT" When I looked up, she was gone and the mourning sun had turned to night. Who else but the blessed Eronodina could have done this. I stood next to the grave the night long pondering what this message meant. Death and life are full of puzzles. And then it came to me. After a long life of putting bodies into graves, I was being called to do something different. I was to pull bodies from the graves. I was called to be a necromancer. Death was not to end the ability of one to do good. I was to raise them up so the dead could once more do good. So their brief, short lives would have meaning. The law banning necromancy was nothing compared to the call of my lady.
I sit here in the dark, stroking my long grey beard and struggling to hear those next to me over the voices of the dead, we are crossing over a shipwreck now. I hold my one possession, the old shovel I used at work every day for many years, in my gnarled arthritic hands. It's familiar contours comfort me. Lady Eronodina says there is work to be done tonight. Wrongs to her cause need to be fixed. A shovel is good for fixing things, besides, it is all I have left.
Ib with no real talents besides brawling, sneaking, and skuldugging found the civil war refreshing... at first. Sneaking into enemy camps and cutting throats, raiding supply caravans, all the while fighting in pubs quickly earned him the nickname Bruiser. More than that it gave him purpose, he was someone, the Bruiser. Ib was loyal to a fault and good at follow orders no matter how heinous. Eventually after a while these terrible orders took a toll on young 16 year old Ib. He snapped. He left his camp spent all of his money on mead and somehow in his drunken, regret and grief-stricken state stumbled aboard the ship muttering something about freedom and goodness.
The rather large and ugly tan skinned pimply faced hobgoblin, spent the first few days sleeping off the worst hangover ever seen. The next few days vomiting because of sea sickness. And several more days in complete silence with a thousand yard stare obviously thinking of the atrocities of war he just can't seem to get out of his head. Now you can tell now the bruiser is itching to just get off the boat.
Maybe freedom is just the sun on your face. Ib whispers to himself.
|
You've come to know Nalia over the last few weeks confined together in this hole. You saw her trying to care for Ib as he came aboard the ship. You can tell she's helped a lot of people down on their luck over her years and see she has a practiced and practical eye to the aid she provides; more impressive, is her uncanny ability to jump out of the way of being vomited on!. You'd guess her to be in her young twenties, blonde hair in thick braids but becoming dirtier and dirtier over the last fortnight. Practical clothes that are a bit worn. Not a bad looking young lady, maybe under all that dirt.
The most striking feature is her height and broad shoulders, easily over 6 foot and probably 180 pounds. A great example of a big boned farm girl, but you think twice of saying that to her face for fear you might get your nose broken.
She hasn't gone into a lot of detail about why she grew up in the temple dedicated to her god Malphas, but you would guess that's where she learned about right and wrong, and how to swing a sword. She's talked a lot about how she wishes she had a sword in her hand. Watching her dance in the hold thru her sword forms in the dim light has been sometimes amusing. You might think mentioning her need for a sword nearly a 100 times a day for the last ten-day would get old, but not to her......
Suddenly you hear the creaking of a metal door and the sound of footsteps entering the hold. Sirius quickly blows out the candle and looking through the cracks between the boxes hiding you, you spot three sailors one holding a lantern.
“Enough chit chat lads! Which one of you has that key?” the figure with the lantern asks. Another one of the sailors hands the talking figure a small metal key. “What's this chest supposed to look like?”
“Small, with the crest of the Blue Island Coalition on it, I think.” the man who had given him the key replied.
“Ah right! Black Guardian knows what the captain wants it for this shortly before arriving! You go check behind those crates and see if you can find it” The man gestures to the crates you are all hiding behind.
Sirius begins to get a panicked look on his face and frantically looks around for another to place to hide but to no avail. One of the sailors grows closer to the crates and shaking his head Sirius says “They don't leave us any choice!”
At the sound of sailors approaching Poppo tries to hide himself away.
Initiative Order:
Red Sailor: 17
Yellow Sailor: 16
Ib the Bruiser: 12
Nalia Malphason: 8
Blue Sailor: 7
Poppo Hedgehopper: 6
Bobie: 4
Sirius: 1
The red sailor searches through some barrels. But despite everyone's best attempt to hide he hears some movement, and goes to investigate. "Now what have we got here?! Stowaways lads!!"
The sailors you notice are not armed, so the yellow one attempts to make an unarmed attack on Nalia.
He hits dealing only 1 nonlethal damage.
Ib and Nalia you are up!
Luckily for Nalia she uses her strength to deliver a perfect right hook to the side of the head of the yellow sailor knocking him unconscious.
Nalia you are free to use your move action, Ib still your go.
Ib goes to do what he does best he moves up and takes a swing at the blue sailor.
Ib emerges from the darkness striking the blue sailor square in the chest chest knocking the blue sailor unconscious.
Nalia you are still free to use your movement action.
Poppo and Bobie you are up!
Poppo leaps from his hiding place and rushes to the last standing sailor, he tried to kick him right in the nuts.
Poppo runs up to the red sailor and punches him right in the balls, causing the man wince in extreme pain. Bobie throws his trusty old shovel at the red sailor but Bobie misses with it and it sticks into one of the nearby barrels letting some sort of liquid out of the it.
Sirius double moves to get to sailor.
Initiative Order:
Red Sailor: 17 1 Dmg Nonlethal
Yellow Sailor: 16
Ib the Bruiser: 12
Nalia Malphason: 8 1 Dmg Nonlethal
Blue Sailor: 7
Poppo Hedgehopper: 6
Bobie: 4
Sirius: 1
The red sailor is up and he attempts to strike the halfling who just hit him in the balls.
The silor manages to slap Poppo across the face dealing one nonlethal damage.
Alright everyone can go.
Hey Poppo squeaks as the sailor slaps him. He promptly tries to stomps on the man's foot, but only manages to stomp the deck. Then takes a step back.
Ib rushes in to try to finish the fight!
Ib runs forward decimating the remaining sailor who falls to the ground unconious, but before you can take any time to catch your breath by way of some sort of magic a mysterious veiled woman appears out of nowhere in the doorway that the sailors entered from “Poor lost souls. The probabilities have turned against you.”
Sirius turns around in a panic “What the…? Who are you?”
“You are confused by my sudden appearance, but my identity is irrelevant. As are you, dear Sirius… unfortunately.”
“What? Crap, please don't tell anyone we're down here, please! We didn't mean any harm theses guys were just…
“You ask that I not reveal you, for your intentions are not evil… and I believe you the strange woman interprets. “But sadly, it's not compassion that rules my deeds. The first beat of a wing must happen. It is the only way the probabilities will fall into place. This is the way it has to be; the way it has been for eons. I am sorry.” You slowly begin to float upward into the air, Sirius panicking and trying the hold himself down. The woman then disappears as you all go unconscious from a thunderous roar of magical energy.
You awaken, bound and gagged and see the captain of the ship standing over Sirius he speaks in a heavy accent almost dwarven sounding though he is human “Well, well, let’s summarize. After we had left Ostian, the five of you hid in the cargo hold and lived on our stocks. Then, when Riq, Sebald, and Rocio found you, you gave them a beating and all of a sudden a, Veiled Woman appeared and knocked you out with wild magic. Is that about it?”
“Yes" Sirius responds “I know, it sounds crazy, but it's the truth. Please, Mysir, we … we just didn't have a choice, you've got the believe us. The war, it… We just wanted a second chance, that's all.”
“A second chance. Yes I think I understand you. You wanted to start a new life in a new land, and as my ship is one of the only ships still sailing the route since the wars, you were simply forced to board without paying.
“Yes… We… could work for you, you know? Scrub the deck, peel potatoes, anything to pay off our debt. And as soon as we arrive.”
The captain interrupts “Heartbreaking… how truly heartbreaking. But let's be honest, you did have a choice. You could have signed on, like all the others did, but you didn't. Instead, you've nested on my ship like maggots, enjoying the good life while my crew actually had to earn their keep. And now you're feeding me these fantasies about veiled women and wild magic? How stupid do you think I am? I know your kind, you are cutthroats, filchers. At least have the guts to admit it.”
“What? No, we, you’re wrong! Please just let me explain, I…”
“I don't give crap for your explanations!” the captain interrupts again as he draws his rapier. “If there's one thing I hate more than cowards, it's people trying to pluck my heartstring! You five are scum, and there's only one kind of punishment for scum on my ship!
The captain thrusts his rapier into the chest of Sirius who falls to the ground limp with a terrified look in his eyes. The captain finally notices you are all awake. “Oh well look at that, rise and shine! Tie them and their friend together and feed them to the fish. Good luck in your new lives”
You are all tied together and thrown overboard sinking down you all hear the voice of the Veiled Woman in your head say “Breath” You see an ancient room with a blinding bright light and charred bodies kneeling either praying or hiding. You slowly move toward the light without control, you hear muffled voices saying erratic things “Tell me what is time? Its all dead, were dreaming anyway. So many people just talk talk talk and never listen. How does it feel to powerless. I know i'm not real, at least not according to your definition. There, there was nothing I could do. This just isn't happening. What is reality anyway?” All of these followed by a deafening roar of a voice you will never forget “Selfish Fool!!
You awaken on a sandy beach beside the sea in front of you the beach is completely surrounded in sheer rock walls. The body of Sirius is nowhere to be found, apart from an unopened crate and bits of driftwood there is nothing upon the shore. But you do notice a makeshift path leading upward into a forest.
Poppo jumps up, surprised as if the fight had just ended!
What just happened! The woman! he feels himself as if to see if he is still whole.
I'm still alive, I think we got dropped into the ocean! The woman.
He looks over at the others, Where are we? How did we get here? Expecting them to have the answers...which they clearly won't. Poppo just stands there staring at he scene. He checks his pocket for his lucky cooper, finding it, he let's out a little sigh of relief.
|
Nalia lifts her head from the sand, her blonde braids spread all around her head by the waves.
What just happened? You saw that woman as well? One moment we're fighting those sailors and the next we're being thrown overboard. By Malphas, the captain had every right to do as we did as we had been underhanded in stowing away. I'm still not sure how Sirius had convinced me to do that. Are the rest of these guys alive or did just you and I survive.?
I poke around trying to see if everyone is ok and maybe see if anyone needs healing.
This old man looks particularly bad, I'm not sure he'll make it!
Ib stares at his allies blankly just as confused as they are.
Well, as weird as that was at least we got what we wanted. Only one way now forward.
As Ib starts up toward the forest, he thinks to himself. I guess freedom isn't the sun on your face after all...
Ib begins up the path, the crate upon the shore has still not been checked. What does everyone do?
Let’s see about this crate then. Hobgoblin your tall see if you can open it. Poppo jumps up trying to see the top of it.
You are all able to easily open the crate. Inside this crate you find a scaberdless longsword with a chip in it, a sheathed dagger, a strange vial with a red liquid in it, a set of slightly moldy studded leather armor, eight days of trail rations, 2 torches, a lockpick, a water skin, a flint and steel, a backpack, and a book with strange arcane writings in it.
Well it’s something… Poppo declares. I’m good at poking things. Poppo eyes the dagger. But if you big people need it, I’m okay with kicking things in the shins and groin punches, stuff like that.
He eyes the lockpick, pretending to have interest in the book. He quickly tries to grab the thieves tool.
|
|
As everyone knows, the holy symbol of Malphas is the long sword, most noble of the bladed weapons. That weapon would aid me as my holy symbol as well, sooo, I would be glad to use that but could look for a club if that would be best.
You see she pretty much is just staring at the sword, her hands twitching. She hasn't looked at anything else in the crate yet.
|
|
Now, now, my friend, things are quite that bad. How about we recover this equipment and make our way up out of the surf so we can begin to dry out. We'll make some makeshift weapons and see if we can't find where we are. I'd like to find that captain that put us overboard! At the end of the day, at least we're not in that cursed civil war anymore!!
Is he digging his own grave or one for one of us? I think it's not likely for me as the hole is too big, I could be buried in a much smaller hole. Poppo asks Nalia, as he watches bobie's digging.
Assuming the warpriest has taken the long sword, Poppo grabs the dagger and holds it out to the hobgoblin. Do you want this, Ib?
This dagger is really too big for me. Poppo says waving it around. He then tosses it to Ib.
He then turns his attention to a strange vial with a red liquid in it, Hey bobie, what's this?
Ib looks at the weapon, something he has not held since abandoning the war, "it just feels right." He think to himself. And manages a nod in the direction of Poppo.
I'm strong I can carry the rest of this lot, if we plan on sticking together that is. Ib says, with veiled hope in his voice.
No, perhaps not. Poppo pulls back the vial from bobie. Is that your shovel washed up over there. Poppo sees a little glint of something shiny to his left on the beach.
Poppo then turns to Nalia, Maybe you'll know something about this? Holding up the vial.
Before telling Ib, I'll stick with you, safety in numbers and all that. Yes, I'm not very strong so carry away!
The light of Eroned shines upon Bobie this day as the small glint that Poppo pointed out is indeed your shovel Bobie.
|
|
I would indeed feel better if we stuck together. I know we don't all know each other well but we've definitely been through some trials and weird stuff lately and all of us have know idea where we are. As to the vial, I'm afraid my gifts and knowledge don't help me much with identifying magical items.
If casting a cantrip doesn't make me risk arcane fever I'll detect magic on the lot of the equipment at least.
If there's one thing I learned growing up as an orphan in the church, you can never have enough friends. I'd be honored to be with your group.
The strange red liquid detects as magic, if no one has spellcraft, someone can use perception to try to identify what it is.