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Removal of hands as a punishment for theft is a time-honored and barbaric tradition.
With impressively low recidivism!
"What is this? A pittance! A pittance, I say! Where are the rest of my accoutrements!? OUTRAGEOUS!" Virgil gives the wooden box a kick with the side of his foot. "Perhaps we will find the rest somewhere else... what is that?" He takes the piece of parchment with strange marks and examines it.
They are bandits. All we need is rope and a tree. Then we have a cool rope swing!
"Still... 'spose we all dinnae mind a bit 'o silk over tha arse end every now an agin... but I gots tae questionin... ken ye get doon inna dirty or ye jus a faded rose?" eyeing Virgil expectantly as though his wee monologue made perfect sense as it left his brain and went to be birthed by his lips...
The heavyset man nodded. "I've worked long and hard for my silk, Mr. Dibbets. I started at the bottom -- and while I may have grown a bit soft in my profession, I will get as dirty as is required to ensure our survival. That is no clashmaclavers. You have my word." He turns to the human. "I was aboard a ship, sailing for the mainland to take a vacation of all things! Our ship was attacked by savage fishmen during the night. I was knocked unconscious during the scuffle. I awoke to these lugubrious surroundings." He is overjoyed to see the door of his cage open. "Thank the stars! Freedom!"
"Talk funny? Talk funny!? Good sir, you are lucky I am not in the habit of insulting strangers, or else I would make disparaging speculations regarding the legitimacy of your birth." You see a rotund man in clothes that were once fine, but have been sullied with dirt and blood. His eyes are a deep blue, with small flecks of silver near the iris. His skin is fair and pale, indicating northern ancestry. He has a hawkish nose and heavy brow. His jaw would be prominent, if it were not for the jowls. He wears a mustache that covers his entire upper lip, and crosses his cheeks to join with his sideburns. He wears a cracked monocle over one eye. "My name is Virgil Longstreet. Esquire. I am currently unable to greet you properly, due to these confining bars. His voice is thick with the accent of rural gentry. "May I trouble you for some assistance?"
"Hellknights in many lands have many duties, some of them are even noble, but their duties in this city are to crush the spirit of the populace and uphold the power of the diabolists. There is no confusion regarding their mission, and those who join them do not do so blindly. They are complicit." Tsura grips the pommel of her blade angrily. "The strategy is sound. I would suggest that those who attack the wagon have one member carry a stout pole to insert between their wheel spokes. It will stop them from escaping."
I'm interested to see how folks roleplay their low Wisdom.... "Guys, we could totally make tons of money from home, just selling makeup and skincare products to our friends and family!"
"Huzzah!" Dieter exults in the swift death of his first target. He turns and menaces the second giant in the room. "Taste my steel, brute!" He swings and...
...misses horribly. "My hubris!"
Ditto. :)
With an ironwood guitar, you could be El Kabong. Alternatively, with a dagger/flute you could be the Green Power Ranger.
Greetings, gentlemen! I'm happy to be joining your band of rascals. I am currently working on my character and will get a draft posted soon. HP Rolls 2 -
Re: character goals Qahnaarin is built for intrigue and espionage. He would like to hook up with the intelligence service / secret police / special forces of the New Alexandria military and start participating/running operations. He will focus on economic disruption, civil unrest, and assassinations. I know some other players asked about demographics and politics. I had similar questions. Any chance you have a mini gazetteer somewhere? I would love to know if you have any information for these questions: BRISAL DESERT
NEW ALEXANDRIA
The best way to end a confrontation is to give both sides a common enemy. Thank you, 4E, for being so bad that even the most quarrelous players will come together to bash you.
Guys. Guys. Do we need some team-building activities around here? Like a 'trust fall' or the 'human knot'? I hoped we would have bonded over murdering that spy, but so help me we will do a ropes course if you don't show some more synergy!
Dieter has no preparation, other than thinking rage-inducing thoughts. Price stickers on books. Toilet water splashing your bum. Unsolicited flyers tucked under your saddle. He steps back down the stairs 10 feet and swings at the wolf on the left.
"Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" Dieter brings up his bardiche and tries to bring it down on the manticore's head directly in front.
Shadow's Army for name of the new gaming guild/societyArmy of Shadows sounds more dramatic... The Shadow Guild
My apologies for any frustration experienced by anyone. Especially our beloved GM. I know it has become a running joke that my characters are like Kenny from South Park, but in no way am I trying to engage in suicidal behavior. I did not revise my actions during that round because Dieter is primarily a barbarian and it would be true to his character to be rash and impulsive. For the sake of avoiding tension, I would be happy to retcon his actions and say that Dieter stayed on the ground. For future combat, Dieter will take this near-death experience as a life lesson and focus on protecting our ranged combatants rather than charging to the fore.
See? See!?
After bonking himself in the head with the curing wand, Dieter hands it back with a nod of thanks. "I'm fine, thanks. If I wanted a boring life, I would have stayed in my home village and learned the trade of the gigolo like my ancestors before me." He stands and ambles over to the chest. "See anything, Quill?"
"More likely it is because you take point." Dieter finishes wiping off the plant ichor. "Or someone swapped your muscle oil with honey-mustard. Either way, it is dead now."
Dieter gasps. "Just like the old gypsy woman said!" He moves forward, slogging through the knee-deep compost. "I'm coming!"
"Does it look like it's following us or stalking us?" "I hope it leaves us alone. "
"Does it look like it's following us or stalking us?" Dieter turns to face the general direction indicated by Storn.
"Perhaps that is why the faith of Gorum is not popular in the Shackles and Sodden Lands... Our missionaries keep drowning." Dieter takes position beside Storn and readies his sword.
"We weren't searching for a vault. We were searching for a crypt. We were attacked by the coven of hags and a few hill giants in the woods, then dragged here. I have no idea why she came in this room. Perhaps some of these plants are... recreational?"
I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time Jerieth has contracted something, amirite?
"Boooo! Hssss! Hssss!" Sejanus voices his displeasure at the sudden turn of events, but quickly abandons the fight to avoid drawing attention. He claps the holy man on the shoulder in congratulations. "Well, at least you were victorious, Jord. You might want have a word with Owlbear and heal him once Plugg is away. After all, it appears he had little choice in the matter."
Swabbing job
Sejanus is assigned to work the bilges with Jord -- why is anyone's guess. He is nearly dwarfed by the towering man. He makes his way down and tries his best, with a valiant effort preventing him from hurting himself. Afterwards, he also makes his way over to Quartermaster Grok and tries his best to schmooze her. "Grok, I'll be honest... I don't have any martial secrets or hidden troves to trade for my belongings. All I can offer you is a debt of gratitude." He shrugs. "And my body. If you desire, you may ravish me in a night of breathless passion -- our bodies fused in a congress of ecstasy as the stars bear witness overhead. Truth be told, I've always fancied sturdy, bold women, and you are more than welcome to darken my doorstep whenever you please."
Diplomacy
Sejanus approaches Sandara and tries a different tact. "Hey there. How would you like to spend an evening with the world's greatest listener? Gossip about your friends. Complain about your coworkers. Tell me about every tiny detail of your day. Go ahead. I will agree and sympathize with everything you say. I will listen to you all. night. long."
Perhaps we could be an anarcho-syndicalist commune? But seriously, I'm all for having a captain, who can be vetoed by a majority vote of the officer's council. Sejanus doesn't even want to be captain, he's just a bit prickly. Besides, him and Dr. Genade are going to be too busy decking out the ship to worry about being in charge.
Storn grumbles and goes back to sleep. He has dreams to get to. Manly dreams. At last, I have found it! The Island of Floozies!
"Try not to kill her! Mawj thinks she is traumatized!"
I can't let her kill the former Chairman of the Federal Reserve!
Patrick: So, did you guys have fun without me?
Or perhaps Stornling is the alchemist, and Sander is the tumor? Twilight Zone music
"I think he has... mostly good intentions." Tsun scratched at his chin. "He's a goblin, which makes him quirky. And an Indep, which also makes him quirky. If he weren't a factotum I would say we should be peery, but I believe the namers they send over should be all right as long as they don't do anything without my eye on them." "Can do, Brother Meytal. I will have to back pronto."
Tsun makes his way downstairs, stopping by his room and check the knob to make certain it is still locked. The Lodge sure has its share of rascals right now. He arrives at the landing and looks around for some 'volunteers.'
What is this Fahrenheit you speak of? The 'F' stands for Freedom Units.
Can you imagine a forest fire? Yummmm.
As steward of the Lodge, Tsun frowns upon cross-trade shenanigans. *points two fingers at his own eyes, points two fingers at Myriana*
If we are still on Sigil you'll have to keep an eye out for rubble chunks ;) Sigil rubble chunks are the best rubble chunks, because they're all pointy and rusty. :)
Arjun will purchase Hanson's gambling debt for 462 gold pieces. "Pleasure doing business." He has Larch sign the debt receipt. Arjun returns to the ship and explains his plan. "I need our two best liars to approach Hanson Gibbs, a man in the employ of our target. I have purchased his gambling debt, and have a signed debt receipt. It is for 462 gold pieces, which my napkin-math tells me is at least three-years pay for the man, so he will be keen to have the debt discharged." "You will explain that you are private investigators hired by a man to research his genealogy. He was a foundling, but through hard work and luck has found some success in life. Because of physical similarities, be believes that he may be related to the family of our target. Perhaps someone in the family had an indiscretion in their youth, and he was the offspring who was given to the church to avoid embarrassment. Due to his success, he does not desire their money, but wishes to fill the void in his heart where a family should be." "He knows of a wizard who can determine whether he is from their family, but needs a blood sample as a material component. The lady of the house will not be harmed or inconvenienced in any way. We simply need Mr. Gibbs to retrieve the lady's menstruation rags from the laundry and give them to us. That will be sufficient." "The lady is undisturbed, Mr. Gibbs' gambling debt is discharged, and our employer is finally able to learn of his origins. Everybody wins. If he asks about it, our employer wishes to remain anonymous in case the blood is not a match to avoid any awkwardness in social circles." Arjun smiles. "See? Not everything has to be screaming and torture. Who is up for it?"
Arjun smiles a friendly smile and turns to Dimitrious. "If you get too frustrated playing this man's games, just let me know." If Dimitrious becomes tired of playing the old man's games...: "Ooo, ooo, ooo!" Arjun waves his hand in the air like a schoolboy in class. "I have one!" In the blink of an eye he holds an adamantine dagger in his hand. He has it swim through the air like a fish in water as he speaks. "I know a secret. I know what your insides look like! Do you know what your insides look like? I don't think so! That's why it's a secret. Would you like me to share this secret with you? Or do you want to turn trading for your secret into giving us your secret?" Intimidate
*slow clap*
"...okay then. Good to know." Tsura walks to the nearest table holding a deceased human. She mouths the word "Sorry." to the corpse and pulls it off the table, gently placing it nearby. She grips the edge of the wood, and heaves the table over onto its side. "Take cover, if you can." She draws a large knife from her jacket and crouches behind the barrier.
The goon falls unconcious to the deck. Once unconcious, Havok lifts him into the air and dumps him in the water.. But not before Arjun unceremoniously strips the goon of his belongings. Armor, weapon, jewelry, et cetera, et cetera. "No sense in letting you keep these after you almost killed us." He pats the goon on the head. "I hope you float."
Arjun turns toward the giant. "Fishpork! You are honorable in combat, and that is worthy of trust. You will eat with us, fight with us, live and die with us. The only cage you will have to suffer is the cage of responsibility." That was a great one, Arjun. Thanks, me! No really, it was poignant and inspiration. Aww, shucks.
That is one of the nice things about the Kingmaker AP; downtime activities such as item crafting can be farmed out to servants and retainers. Rulers do not go shopping in the market like common rabble! We place an order with the Royal Foundry, who makes whatever we want at-cost. Then we place an order with the Royal Magewright, who enchants whatever we want at-cost. Or we place an order with the Royal Chemica, who... you get the idea. Granted, all of these would necessitate infrastructure that we don't have at the beginning of the game, but would be present for the majority of the campaign. It's good to by the king. |