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Pip sighs when her play does not go off as well as planned. Next time, more rehearsals.
She stares suspiciously at the Pitcher Plants. Weren't these the very same plants that tried to eat Packet and Keats? Still, she strides forward and attempts to cook a Kebab, pulling off her gloves first. She doesn't like the idea of pricking her finger, but likes the idea of pricking someone else's finger even less.
Ouch.
She pricks her finger, and remembers her grandmother's tales of a cooking match with a cat folk oracle who lit everything on fire. Now... how did that story go? Ah yes, there was rhyme that grandmother used to time her cooking.
"Ta-ta tiddly thumb
How do you know the meal is done?
If too soon the food's revealed
Texture gooey and congealed
If too late the food is turned
All your gravy will be burned
So say this poem and clap to three...
There! Now! T'is done, you see!"
Pip notices that these plants are must not be quite the same as the ones that tried to eat her friends, because the things they cook smell delicious! Keats did not, after he was bathed in the other plant's acid.
Pip succeeds in cooking the plant. The nobles politely clap with delight at her song!
Pitcher-Plant Ceviche!
[b]Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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“YOU, SER!”
Keats rises to his feet and places forked fingers below his masked eyes before pointing belligerently at the plant.
“Are no doubt here to demand satisfaction for your elder brother, who sought to taste Might made flesh & blood, but found only his DOOM!”
The actor removes a leather glove and *slaps* the plant gently. “I accept your challenge, and ask Gurmire, Son of Zarongel to be my Second!”
<aside> “Dear Gurmy, if it pleases you, might I trouble you to hold this for a moment?”
Keats hands the pyro-inspector his duelling glove, draws his golden longsword and runs the edge across the palm of his off-hand, before holding it aloft in clenched defiance above the plant’s open pitcher.
“Taste the bitter tang of Defeat!”
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Gurmire, ever the curious one, observes how the others attempt to prepare the food.
He steps up beside Keats, holding the strange glove. It affords him a better position to observe from! When Keats is done, he hands the glove back and takes his place to try the strange food,
When it is his turn, he does not hesitate to prick his finger and taunt the plant with a drop of blood. He quickly puts his skewer in and begins to mentally count while paying attention to the smells. Pip left it in a little too long for my tastes, but still these people are likely to judge it to longshank standards rather than goblin tastes. Guess I will have to compromise!
He twirls the skewer as he brings it out, still sizzling. He puts it on his plate and then looks for the proper sides to add to it. “This looks good!”
He moves out of the way so the next person can get some food before trying his.
BOOM BOY's rubbery ceviche defeats him. Well, perhaps that's how HE tasted to the plant anyway because HE didn't get fully cooked, either. Vengeance will have to wait another day.
Packet's is overcooked but he crunches on the bitter char and tries to smile without making too much of a mockery of himself.
Gurmire's is cooked just enough — it wouldn't pass muster at a fancy restaurant but it's passable enough for a masquerade party. He finds a lemon-scallion dressing to brighten the flavors.
The group looks to Varret, wondering if he can cook.
★★★★★★
Pitcher-Plant Ceviche
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Cognizant of his flowing robes--easily the finest clothes he's ever worn--Varret gathers the material over one arm and steps forward. He hesitates until he catches a whiff of Gurmire's kebab.
Damn, that smells good!
Picking up the small knife, he pricks his finger and squeezes a drop to open the plant, the swiftly deposits the knife back on the table and submerges his stick of meat within the acid.
Varret leaves his in a millisecond shorter than Gurmire did, resulting in ruined ceviche. He manages to pass it off and down the chewy plant matter with the assistance of lots of sauce.
★★★★★★
A couple of rooms over is a pony-sized snapping turtle inside a circular pen. The pen sports several holes, through which assembled individuals put their hands while inhaling strange fumes that make them giggle. At the sound of a bell, all participants pull their hands out. One man, slower than the rest, cries out in pain as he pulls out a finger that's missing its tip!
The mean old turtle swallows something. He seems very happy as he waddles about in the pen, looking for more delicious appendages to eat.
You could participate in this game by inhaling the fumes and attempting a reflex save.
Snapping Turtle Finger Lotto
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Pip says to Gurmire, "You know how gnomes go out of their way to do dangerous things and avoid bleaching?" She pulls off her gloves and hands them to Packet. "I guess I won't be bleaching today."
She also croons softly to the Turtle, "Please don't eat me. My finger is so small it would hardly be a meal for you. Maybe you've had your fill and won't eat anyone?"
Afterwards she does medicine on either the man who just lost a finger (or herself, if this goes badly!)
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He whispers to Boom Boy “This look bad idea. Not think it worth risk.”
"Gurmy, no-one shall judge you for taking the wise course of action, without answering for their transgression to BOTH OF US!"
Keats takes a deep drag of *giggle* gas. "Unfortunately, nobody has ever accused me of having an over-abundance of common sense."
Boom Boy shoves in his hand, and flips Ol' Snappy the Bird! "Don't mind the gnome's pinky, Prune-puss. Suck on this!"
None of you who participate loses a fingertip. Varret, in fact, wins his round — greatly impressing the gathered crowd! Pip helps the Bhopanese who lose, though they do want to bleed and suffer a little — the blood and danger make this game fun, after all.
★★★★★★
In the final game room is very dimly lighted. Inside are dog-sized caterpillars scurrying about inside a fenced-off area. The spiracles on their back shoot out occasional swirls of fire, as do their mandibles.
As you watch, a young woman slices her finger and twirls it through the air like a symphony conductor. The caterpillars scuttle about in a frenzy, following the droplets of ichor and sparking excitedly. When they taste her blood they emote multicolored sparks from their backs and gouts of flame from their mandibles — the gouts of flame shoot up into the air and explode, reminiscent of fireworks and sparklers.
As soon as it began, the beautiful swirling pattern is nothing but an image burned on your retinas.
If you wish to offer you blood (or someone else's with a Society or Diplomacy check), you can make make a Crafting or Thievery check to nimbly produce beautiful patterns in the air,
Caterpillar Blood-Art
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Gurmire marvels at the caterpillars. “They have some of the best trees and bugs here!”
He steps forward to try his talent with the caterpillar of fireworks!
“Goblin blood burns bright!” he says as he pricks a finger on each hand. He then waves them back and forth, trying to spell his name in fireworks.
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Gurmire speaks true, and Goblin blood does indeed burn brighter. It seems the ancestry of the blood leads to different kinds of fireworks. Goblin blood leads to brighter and hotter results; unbleached Gnome blood lends richer and more random colors that are hard to control.
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Always one for flashy displays and drawing attention to himself, Keats nonetheless decides to sit this one out
However, he does try to inspire his team-mates with another cultural artefact from the printing presses of Shelyn’s ∞ celestial monkeys.
The ranger hath disgraced me and hindered me, slayers laughed at my losses, cavaliers mocked at my gains, barbarians scorned my station, paladins thwarted my bargains — and what is the reason?
I am a bard.
Hath not a bard perception? Can a bard not climb, swim, bluff and intimidate? Fed with the same trail rations? Pierced, slashed and bludgeoned with the same weapons? Subject to the same ghoul fever, healed by the same CLW, warmed and cooled by the same endure elements as a magus-gone-nova is?
If you tickle us, do we not laugh? Prick us, do we not bleed *sparks* flame and goblin fireworks?
Each of you creates an amazing light show! Packet's colors are more subdued… loose and easy like the threads of a well-worn sweater, but on closer inspection subtle and convoluted… like the mind of a detective.
Goal
Your goal is to impress the Bhopanese by rising to the highest level of the dance that you can. The more success you have the higher you will ascend — waltzing the palace and into the sky.
Phases
The dance will be divided into two phases. During each phase of the dance, we will go around the table up to three times, giving each player a turn to roll one check.
Checks
Each time we go around the table you will have the chance to make one Basic Check against one Obstacle of your choice. An Obstacle is a challenge that you will face during the dance that provides you with an opportunity to excel. You cannot assist one another, but several players can attempt their own checks against the same obstacle in the same round.
Dance Points
Successful checks against Obstacles earn Dance Points against that single Obstacle. Each obstacle takes several points to overcome. This means you may want to have several players focus on the same challenges rather than a bunch of different ones.
Ending the Phase
The phase will end after you overcome a certain number of obstacles. I suspect this will happen well before 3 rounds with this group and all the edge points you've accrued.
Using Edge Points
The Edge Points you accrued can be used as a GROUP. They are a SHARED resource. Any time you are worried you failed a check you can use an edge point to auto-succeed. You have to roll though, as they can only be triggered on failing a check.
To keep things moving my assumption will be that you always use an Edge if one is available and you fail or crit fail until they are all used up. If you, for some reason, want to roleplay a failure or crit failure, please note that in your post and I will accommodate. Otherwise, I will automate Edge Point usage.
Questions?
Please post any nitty-gritty questions in the OOC as I do not want the gameplay thread mucked up with discussions about rules and mechanics, as I enjoy the fluff of this scene a masquerade more than the crunch.
The TL;DR here is that you should work together and focus on obstacles that speak to by the strong suits of your individual party members.
★★★★★★
Purple trumpet vines blaze as you step onto the dance floor just in time to catch the official beginning of the Masquerade of Seasons!
With the whistling of ghostly white buds resounding in the air like an ephemeral glockenspiel, the Bhopanese gather in the grand plaza of the dance, under the aegis of the bloom of the gigantic orchid castle.
A bat-faced man, clad in the finery of a majordomo that would make the Taldan courts blush with envy, claps his hands firmly four times and fey musicians appear, ranging from satyrs with their pipes to dryads playing various string instruments made of their own hair, all accompanying the song of sirens congregating in the lake. All fey are dressed in elaborate courtly attire, and the massive stigma of the orchid-castle opens to the sound of the primordial symphony, sending clouds of shimmering pollen in grand, visible arcs of pure magic through the cheering celebrants.
With the first notes, the music’s magic begins sweeping away the assembled, masked dancers at a tempestuous velocity, transforming the entire dance floor into a swirl of garments and giggling laughter, as the dance’s magic slowly begins raising every dancer into the air. The magical swirls of pollen quickly create different levels of the dance, as the Bhopanese dancers waltz through the air at heights ranging from safe to staggering.
You pause before this wondrous site, watching the Bhopanese in their fey costumes waltzing into the air or leaping across platforms. The music strikes a chord in you, something deep and true but also wild. It seems to thrum in your blood. You feel an irresistible urge to dance…
The Masquerade of Seasons: Phase 1 Round 1
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Keats recalls the many hours he spent outside the Head Teacher’s office at recess, after being sent there for disrupting his elementary school class, mainly because he was bored.
From his vantage point, the only entertainment was the girls jumping rope and playing a leaping game called ‘elastics’ set to the tune of their own singing.
With time, he came to admire the grace and timing required to excel at these games. And while the strict separation of the genders demanded by pre-pubescent social norms prevented him from joining a game, young Keats spent many an hour practising the skills alone and in secret.
Practise that paid off several ways a few years later when co-ed dancing was introduced to the Breezy Creek High School’s physical education curriculum …
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1-2-3, 1-2-3... I can waltz to this! I just have to time it right and twirl!
Pip grins as the music starts up and starts twirling her skirts as she joins Gurmire and Keats in daring leaps! Her little skirts flare out, dainty dancing slippers tracing the patterns on the ground and then vaulting higher and higher as she moves through the other dancers!
Swaying to the music, grinning from ear to ear, she feels herself just release to the music, and she sings!
♫ With music from drums and strings
You can have your own set of wings
Your feet start on the ground
Taking in all the sights
Swirling skirts, dancing lights
Let's go dancing tonight
Oh, oh, oh!
Let's go dance tonight
Up to the highest height!
Let's go dance tonight and all go soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let's go dance tonight!
When you see folks dancing up there
All at once you're lighter than air
You can dance on the breeze
Over palace and trees
Taking in all the sights
Let's go dancing tonight!
Oh, oh, oh!
Let's go dance tonight
Up to the highest height!
Let's go dance tonight and all go soaring
Up through the atmosphere
Up where the air is clear
Oh, let's go dance tonight! ♫
Pip and Gurmire leap higher and higher on the platforms among the swirling costumes. Lost in memory, Keats has a more difficult time but sees the man Pip helped when you were in the snapping turtle room, and he explains to his friends how dexterous your group is. Surely, he explains, Keats did not slip — it must be some strange Pathfinder dance move.
You succeed in clearing the platforms!
Packet flows with the crowd, and Varret discovers a pattern in the way the platforms move.
The Masquerade of Seasons: Phase 1 Round 1
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
Zarindlara's bow gets in the way of her elegant outfit, but the magic of the masquerade and the goodwill of the Bhopanese bolsters her!
The Masquerade of Seasons: Phase 1 Round 2
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
The magic and goodwill you've generated once again saves you — this time, Varret.
The Masquerade of Seasons: Phase 1 Round 2
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Pip, seeing her colleagues, Varret and Zarindlara, weaving the magic beneath their feet, decides that it's time to assist. She tries to listen to the magic in the music, summoning the winds to lift her and her colleagues higher, but despite her primal fey blood, she's never been exceptional at fey magic. Still, they risked... Should not she?
In, out. In, out.
She breathes in the rhythms of world around her. Primal magic was built of contradictions and opposites. The pull of life and death, the verdant forests and the quiet deserts, the dance of predator and prey. For a few minutes, she loses herself in the primal dance, becoming one with it, until a stray thought interrupts her.
Why did my people give all this up? How could they leave the fey realm?
The distraction comes at the exact wrong time, and all the primal magic she was weaving suddenly explodes outwards. It could have been a catastrophe, sending fellow dancers sprawling, overturning dishes and decorations, pouring out in a horrid mess...
...but suddenly she can remember her grandmother's guiding hand.
Silly child, you do it like this!
Pip regains control, and the explosion of magic suddenly shifts and at the last minute bursts out in rainbow-colored lemon scented bubbles. Pip, still rising on the swirling magic, spins into it and then twirls in amongst the bubbles, skirts flaring, to the clapping of the crowd.
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“Surely, you did not slip — it must be some strange Pathfinder dance move.”
“I appreciate that, My Lord.”
Keats smiles. “I have a reputation for brashness, but you know if I had one piece of advice for the teenage Boom Boy it would be this:
“You tend to see others as completely foreign individuals. But everyone you meet, regardless of how impressive their title or expensive their clothes, is looking for relevance.”
“So without compromising your values, why not cut them a little slack?”
Packet dances harder than anyone else, so lost in the music that the group rises higher!
Pip uses an Edge to succeed at Perplexing magic, also closing it out.
Gurmire socializes and talks dance moves while Keats dances too.
End of Phase 1!
You have ascended quite high, above the average dancer. Up here golden pollen gleams in the moonlit air like a trail of riches, the music of the fey seems clearer than before. There is a flower arch that admits dancers to a higher level where they float in the night sky alongside the blossom of the orchid itself. Hope you're not afraid of heights.
A figure approaches from behind the gate. They are dressed like a somber butterfly or moth; their mask's proboscis is several feet long and its curled tip is splashed with red paint.
The figure's dark eyes glitter and they hold a small silver chime in one hand, a golden mallet in the other. They intone:
He dons his coat of darkness; on the stage
Walks, and achieves his wonders, from the eye
Of living Mortal covert, “as the moon
Hid in her vacant interlunar cave.”
The garb he wears is red as freely given blood,
the word “Invisible” flames forth inside your chest.
The figure waits for some sort of response.
It seems like this is some sort of ritual that requires complex etiquette — you turn to look for Lelzeshin but he's gone. Somewhere in the excitement, your guide has abandoned you.
You're on your own. You rack your brain trying to figure out what this strange ritual is or how to proceed without losing face.
★★★★★★
Cryptic Etiquette
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
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Pip raises an eyebrow. Moons, blood and caves usually refer to menstruation... but then why reference 'he'? No, that cannot be it. Pip glances around for Lelzeshin for only a moment before she recalls how pissed their native guide had seemed. Well... this could be an obscure form of revenge. Or a test to see how we do.
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Without other inspiration to guide her, Pip courtesies and responds in iambic pentameter. She picks up the poem from the final word, 'chest.'
So we revelers are subtly blessed
Seeking what knowledge lies hidden within
But popping the cork may release the djinn.
So we dance the dance, retrace the history
Face dead ends and frustrating mystery
Do the heights hold the answers we seek?
This blood-soaked quest's not for the meek.
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Giving up, Gurmire just focuses on something he can understand. This is supposed to be a dance and the mallet and chime could make music.
“Hammer strikes the chime.
Note clear as water, pure as air.
Melody needs more.”
Gurmire smiles and decides some sort of bow is required so he tries one. He isn’t concerned that his response doesn’t make sense, since the original riddle didn’t make sense to him. Maybe he could make them as confused as they were making him?
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Packet scratches his chin for a moment, before replying with another poem.
"I ascend with agony through milky smoke of cypress
Burning
A flaming bed for the counterfeit of moonlit night
Ascend I ascend
I ascend with agony a diamond forming
Like tears drying
In ten-thousand-year-old
Excrement of the dead
I ascend with agony the gleaming rib
Of an angel spinning in silent adoration
For the dusk beyond the white gate
I ascend"