Every story has a beginning, and ours is no different. The day was like any other Riddleport day as of late. The sun was just sitting, the Blot hanging over the area like a dark omen from the depths, and the streets were just as rough as always. The city was in a bit of a hubbub due to the reopening of one of its gambling establishments, the Golden Goblin. While that in and of itself was not worth much of note, the fact that Saul Vancaskerkin, a man who for the last few years has been persona non grata in Riddleport for the last few years, is the one who bought the place and is reopening it.
Each of you start your journey here, in the seedy underbelly of the city, on your way to the Goblin. You are going there for a variety of reasons, and each of you has your own goals.
You arrived in Riddleport a few days ago, looking for wine woman and song, in that order. What you found, however, were Quickwives, Cheap Ale, and bawdy sea chanties. On your second day in town you found a flyer for the Grand Reopening of the Golden Goblin Gambling Hall, and their gala event "Cheat the Devil and take his Gold." Upon getting some more information about this place, decided to both check out the event, and seek employment.
On the night of the event, as you started your way down to the hall, you ran into your very old circus buddy Khun-duhn, who apparently was also on his way to the event. You find yourself just outside the hall, standing in line to sign up for the tournament.
Upon the visions and readings from the Wise Woman, you find yourself in Riddleport. After a few days of wandering around, you get wind that the Golden Goblin is finally opening, with a huge event titled "Cheat the Devil and take his Gold." You figure you would probably find your old friend Dzae there, and unsurprisingly on the very night of the event you run into him on your way there. You two decide to stick together, and you now find yourself in the line for the tournament with your old friend.
You arrived in Riddleport about 2 weeks ago, and have been trying to find work since. You have done a few odd jobs, including one very disturbing job as a knacker to make a few coins. You never last, however, in these jobs, and usually find yourself at the local "shrine" to Cayden Cailean which is called the "Publican House". It is there, about 4 nights ago, that you heard about the Golden Goblin reopening, and its gala event "Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold." You quickly decide that you may be able to find work as a bouncer there for the owner, and maybe could make a few coins in the tournament as well.
You head over there, and are currently waiting in line to sign up. You happen to be standing behind an elf and a duergar, who seem to be deep in conversation with one another!
Arriving in Riddleport about 3 days ago, you begin to search for any clues you could find about the blot, and about Trista. The Blot is a very very obvious feature, hanging over the city like a giant black stormcloud. After two days however you have started to run low on gold, and have not heard anything about Trista.
So, you decide to take your chances at a little gambling at the aptly named "Golden Goblin", with their premier event "Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold". It also pops into your head that you may be able to find some people who know more about the Blot, maybe even a Cyphermage or two! You had heard that these mages were the penultimate source of knowledge in the city for magical things.
On your way to the Goblin, however, you run into an old friend, Trista! You and her quickly team up, she informing you that she is also hunting the reason behind the Blot! You both decide to head over to the Goblin, Trista telling you she is going to check it out for, of all things, devils!
YOu find yourself standing in line, behind a large human with a polearm, a duergar, and an elf. The elf and deep dwarf seem to be having a conversation...
Once you arrived in Riddleport, only a day ago, you quickly began to search for information regarding the blot. However, the only thing anyone was talking about was this Saul character and his reopening of this Golden Goblin casino. When you hear the name you smile, thinking of your old friend Tozur, and decide that your best bet for finding information would be there, at this hall.
When you saw one of the signs for the event however, you quickly noticed that it was promising Devils, and that the event was titled "Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold". Well, such a place is as good a place as any for information.
On your way to the event however, you ran smack into your old friend Tozur, almost literally. You two became like pea's in a pod, and walked together to the casino. It turns out that Tozur was in town to investigate the blot as well!
Once you got to the casino you joined the line for the event, and found yourself standing behind a human with a polearm, an elf, and of all things a duergar. Truly things are strange in Riddleport!
The rattle of the queue at the Golden Goblin does make Tozur slightly uneasy; the entire city does, in fact! No doubt the Blot is cause for this. Tozur, particularly, found it mesmerising. Not in a good way either, by the chill running down his spine whenever he'd cast his eyes up. Yet he is filled with joy - "I still can't believe I'd stumble into you like this!"
He hugged her leg when they met and he hugs her leg again. He had been quick to throw the hood over his face after they crashed, and he had grown a little taller since last they met. He'd managed to conceal the gravelly voice aspect of his goblin heritage after all these years, yet it was easy to fall back on old habits. "And I can't believe you're here because of demons? Or was it devils? I... I can't remember the difference."
He feels a little stupid now. And he realises a little too late that he had spoken a fair bit too loudly.
Trista, overjoyed at being united with her longtime friend, cries a little bit.
Oh, Toz - it's so good to see you again! I was never able to say goodbye, and I've worried so about you! I'm so glad to see that you're safe and well.
"And I can't believe you're here because of demons? Or was it devils? I... I can't remember the difference."
Trista smirks, shaking her head and wagging her finger lovingly at Tozur.
You're forgetting the stories! Remember - Aysynth Girdenwall, beloved of Shelyn, fought the twisting, corrupting evils of the devils, the denizens of the Hells. It was Davion Morningstar, holy warrior of The Eternal Rose who braved the depths of the Abyss itself and slew the archdemon Anthyriphixxis to avenge the destruction of Shelyn's temple in Faldamont. So, Demons exist for one reason—to destroy. Where their more lawful counterparts, the devils of Hell, seek to twist mortal minds and values to remake and reshape them into reflections of their own evil, demons seek only to maim, ruin, and feed. They dwell in the Abyss.
Gambling is a vice that would be loved by devils - not surprising that we'd find so many of their icons here, in this place.
She shakes her head sadly.
Anyway, what have you been up to? It would be just like me to go on about Shelyn when I haven't seen an old friend in years!
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Marcellus shuffled forward slowly as the queue moved ever so slowly towards the entrance. Nursing a brutal hangover, the Chelish ex-soldier silently cursed the foul ales in the Rolling Arms that had convinced him (through sheer foulness of taste) to dip into his own collection of wines. He was supposed to have been here two hours ago to beat any queues and have a quiet word (and appraisal) with the bouncers of the establishment. Now he was stuck in a long queue between two pairs of chattering individuals, feeling somewhat uncomfortable between so many exotic races; an Elf, Duergar and even a Goblin to boot. Marcellus was not one to judge based on race, but he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy sandwiched between the misfits of the queue; he hoped no one would associate him with them, especially if any of them were denied entry.
Time passed and Marcellus began to take in his surroundings a little more, risking a glance towards the rear of the queue. The woman behind him speaking to the Goblin was a welcome sight even though the incessant conversation she was having with the goblin was making his head pound- but upon closer inspection as he turned with the intention of offering his hankerchief to her he inwardly sighed.
Planetouched, by the looks of her. What I would give to have Petronicus here. He'd love the mystique of these curious individuals, would probably have made friends with them by now instead of just standing here. I just want to make sure I get into the damned casino...
Clearing his throat in an attempt to get her attention, Marcellus addressed Trista, offering a silk handkerchief with his left hand, holding his fauchard securely to his shoulder with the right. His right arm had got him into trouble when he first began to use the wrist sheath he had bought after a narrow escape from an experienced hobgoblin who had stuck to him like glue. The hobgoblin had been nimble and cunning to stay inside the reach of his fauchard and had almost finished off Marcellus; a worthy foe that nearly put an end to Marcellus' long career as a warrior. Since that narrow escape after knocking the goblin out with a well placed and desperate headbutt, Marcellus had felt the need to keep a weapon for close quarters very close at hand, and had resolved to learn to use the wrist sheath with disastrous initial results. It had been a while since he accidently stabbed someone with it but he didn't want to take any chances, especially today.
"Please, dry your tears young lady" he said, trying extra hard to sound chivalrous and kind. The way he expressed himself had often gotten him into trouble in the past; he'd say something with one thing in mind and the other person would somehow think he meant something totally different.
Trista accepts the proffered scarf, giving it only a cursory examination before using it to daub gently at the corners of her eyes.
Thank you, kind sir. Forgive me, I must have had something in my eye.
Returning the scarf, she cautiously eyes the stranger and smiles.
He's quite a specimen - oh hells, he's the most chiseled man I've ever seen! A pity about that scar, otherwise he'd be utterly perfect.
She glances around nervously at the rest of the line of people standing in line at the casino.
Toz - what is that fellow? she says just loud enough for Toz and the dark-haired man to hear her, gesturing to the dark-skinned stumpy humanoid further up in the line. I've never seen one of his ilk before...
Upon seeing Khun-duhn, Dzae hugs him warmly, as a boy might an uncle, uncaring of the surrounding crowds. While standing in line, Dzae is so exited to see his old friend Khun-duhn, truly the closest friend he had ever had, that he keeps jumping from subject to subject: asking Khun-duhn where he has been, telling Khun-duhn about his adventures since leaving the circus including his recent and brief stint on a pirate ship. When Khun asks when Dzae left the circus and why Dzae quiets and reluctantly tells him of the passing of his parents Zarzuket and Neji,
Khun-duhn, I must tell you, my parents have passed away. It was a sudden and brief illness. It took Dada Zar in the late morn and Mama Nej later that same day. Shaman Bloodwake said he had never seen the like. With them gone and you having left to see the world, well, I had to follow your example and explore the world myself.
He becomes aware that those around may have heard, especially since the large human warrior in line behind them is so close his elbow brushed Dzae's long hair as he pulls out a handkechief. This draws Dzae's eye to the lovely aasimar and her short hooded companion. As he shifts to get a better look at the short one,
[i] That could not be, wait, it is, a slimy little goblin! Dada Zar always said "Accept and appreciate all people, yes even goblins." [i] Although Zarzuket had pointed tried to overcome his gnomish prejudice against goblins, Dzae had noted and absorbed his adopted father's suspicion of them. In fact due to his exposure to other beings and cultures both in the circus and since, Goblins were truly the only race Dzae did not like. With these thoughts he frowns at the Goblin.
Then he turns back to his companion and says while grinning broadly, So, Kudu, are you going to join me in the Tournament or just watch me win?
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Trista accepts the proffered scarf, giving it only a cursory examination before using it to daub gently at the corners of her eyes.
Thank you, kind sir. Forgive me, I must have had something in my eye.
Returning the scarf, she cautiously eyes the stranger and smiles.
Marcellus smiled back.
It is no trouble. Good luck to you inside on the tables. And to you, Sir. he said as an afterthought, addressing the goblin directly, if a little awkwardly. Turning back towards the front of the queue, Marcellus kept his eyes firmly locked on the bouncers, wondering if any there were as strong as he was.
Rather uncharacteristically for a duergar, Khun-duhn is overjoyed to run into his old friend Dzae outside the Golden Goblin. However, in typical dwarven fashion the only evidence of his feelings are a slight upward turn at the corners of his mouth and the sound of Dzae's vertebrae popping as Khun-duhn returns the elf's hug.
"Well Dzae, ye giant gnome, it sure is good t' see a friendly face in this wretched hive of scum an' villainy," Khun-duhn says to his friend. "Though I can't say I'm surprised t' find ye here at the grand openin' of this casino. Plannin' t' practice some of what Zar taught ye, eh? An' how are yer parents doin? Is the circus here in town?"
Dzae quiets and reluctantly tells him of the passing of his parents Zarzuket and Neji.
"Khun-duhn, I must tell you, my parents have passed away. It was a sudden and brief illness. It took Dada Zar in the late morn and Mama Nej later that same day. Shaman Bloodwake said he had never seen the like. With them gone and you having left to see the world, well, I had to follow your example and explore the world myself."
"Ah, lad. Sorry I am t' hear that. Yer parents were two of the finest people I ever met, an' that's the truth," Khun-duhn replies with sadness evident in his gruff voice.
"Guess that's what I get for leavin' the only true home I've ever known," Khun-duhn thinks to himself. "The surface world's always changin'. At least the lad's here, just like Eva said. Now we just need t' find the other three she Saw - the Noble Sellsword, the Unlikely Spellsword, an' Beauty's Wrath." The cloaked duergar peers at the rest of the crowd from underneath his hood, reminding himself again that more than chance was at work in reuniting him with his long-lost friend at this place and time.
"Hmmm... That tall one with the fauchard definitely carries himself like a sellsword but talks like a gentleman... An' the lass might be considered pretty by tall-folk standards... But what's that latched onto her leg under that cloak? A halfling? Svirfneblin? Some kind of wizard's familiar? Might bear closer watchin'..."
Toz looks up at Trista's face - or tries to, rather, the hood covering majority of his face - and he feels sad when she cries. Yet when the man offers her his scarf, he is filled with a sense of admiration - a future vision, of who he wants to be! How chivalrous! Would I dare ask his name? Would he tell me? Of course he would, he's a man of honour! He must be!
Yet fear overwhelms Toz; he doesn't even manage to get a glimpse of the man's face and he tucks the cloak tighter around his chest and face. The heat is something he has learned to endure, though it is still cause of minor distress. He lightens up when Trista 'admonishes' him for forgetting the stories; he can't quite look up but he knows she's wagging her finger - in a playful way! And when she tells the tale of the Morningstar, he gives her leg another hug. "That was always my favourite story - I'm so glad you remembered!"
Anyway, what have you been up to? It would be just like me to go on about Shelyn when I haven't seen an old friend in years!
"I lived a year in Galduria and learnt how to harness the power of my veins! Afterwards I went north by the Lampblack river and then west to Roderic's Cove, where I lived until I heard you were coming to Riddleport. And now we're here and we've met and I'm happy!"
When Trista draws attention to the stumpy man with dark skin, he shakes his head, keeping his voice a lot quieter than Trista's. "I don't know. I saw someone similar in Roderic's Cove, with ashen skin, but that was a corpse in the water. I was too scared to study it."
He becomes aware that those around may have heard, especially since the large human warrior in line behind them is so close his elbow brushed Dzae's long hair as he pulls out a handkechief. This draws Dzae's eye to the lovely aasimar and her short hooded companion. As he shifts to get a better look at the short one,
That short one is covering up so much! Why would someone hide who they are in a place like Riddleport? Hmmm, not a child, he's hiding too well. He's short even for a gnome. Well, who or what-ever he is, if he wants to hide, he shouldn't stand next to an Aasimar. He might as well shout "Hey look at me, I'm hiding!"
He chuckles silently and then turns back to his companion and says while grinning broadly, So, Kudu, are you going to join me in the Tournament or just watch me win?
So, Kudu, are you going to join me in the Tournament or just watch me win?
Dzae's question breaks Khun-duhn from his reverie of considering the other people waiting to enter the casino. The duergar chuckles ruefully as he responds to the elf's question. "Ye know I never had much skill at games of chance, lad, an' that's one thing the years haven't changed. I'll just content meself keepin' an eye out t' make sure no one's cheatin' ye."
"I don't know. I saw someone similar in Roderic's Cove, with ashen skin, but that was a corpse in the water. I was too scared to study it."
Trista frowns.
Well, this one surely isn't dead. I suppose we'll find out soon enough. For my part, I'm simply here...looking into things. Mayhap I can find work here at the casino - I've got next to no money, and you know I would be less than likely to try to gamble what I do have. Perhaps, I could even...
She stands on her tiptoes, straining to see the front of the line.
...possibly work taking registrations? This line is moving so slowly...
Seeing the elf talking warmly to the creature with the ashen skin, Trista relaxes slightly.
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Well, this one surely isn't dead. I suppose we'll find out soon enough. For my part, I'm simply here...looking into things. Mayhap I can find work here at the casino - I've got next to no money, and you know I would be less than likely to try to gamble what I do have. Perhaps, I could even...
Marcellus turned around once more, deciding to weigh in on the discussion.
I too seek gainful employment at this establishment he said. Mercenary work around here has been slim pickings of late so i'm looking to branch out a ltitle from my usual contracts.
After listening to Trista complain about the line length, he sighed heavily.
I doubt you could do a worse job. This is unreasonable. He agrees before beginning to rummage around in his oversized backpack. He turned up three sealed pitchers of liquid, each bearing a carefully spelt label that read 'Wine'. Breaking the seal on one, he took a long gulp and smiled in satisfaction, offering one of the pitchers to the woman and her short friend.
I'm Marcellus. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.
Tozur is overjoyed when the noble and kind man joins their conversation. "I don't know what I could do as work...though I would help you if I could, Trista!"
When the man introduces himself and offers the wine, Toz almost takes back his hood to do the same - yet he doesn't, remembering that his kin is not welcome in the traditional society. But Roderic's Cove didn't mind... maybe I am too cautious?
"My name is Tozur, mister Marcellus. Thank you for the offer, but I was never fond of wine."
Da never allowed me to drink wine... but I guess I'm off on my own, now aren't I? Thank you for your courtesy, sir. I'm Trista Goodheart, and it's my pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Hearing the man prompt Toz to pull back his hood, Trista grabs Toz's hand and offers a gentle squeeze of encouragement.
Go on, dear Toz - these people will respect you for who you are, not what you are - or they'll answer to me for it.
Tozur grows speechless when the man so bluntly asks what he is, yet with Trista's encouragement he glances up at her - or he would, if the hood wasn't in the way - and he nods. "If you think so... but only for him."
He gestures for the man to bow down slightly, and he pulls up the hood, not completely, but enough to reveal his face: enormous amber eyes look up at the man's face, and his ebon skin seems to mesh into the cloak, but it is unmistakable that he is a goblin. He offers a nervous smile, flashing rows of white teeth, and he makes sure to grab Trista's hand, squeezing a finger or three as tightly as he can.
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Oh Cayden, a goblin here?!?! Marcellus thought to himself as Tozur revealed himself briefly. Marcellus' only encounters with goblins had been as lackeys of a minor hobgoblin warlord he and his unit had skirmished with some eight years ago. Despite the urge to release the spring on his wrist sheath and have good solid steel in his hand ready to defend himself, Marcellus did his absolute best to look nonchalant at the turn of events. The sellsword was a firm believer in individuality and stubbornly told himself over and over that Tozur was a fine individual despite his heritage. Probably.
You can tell Marcellus is somewhat alarmed that Tozur is a goblin, but he seems to be making efforts to hide it. His right arm is twitching in anticipation.
Still forcing a smile, Marcellus offered a flask of water to Tozur again.
That... Must have taken courage. Thankyou, Tozur he said, extending his hand, initially offering his right hand with the wrist sheath but mastering his misgiving and offering the left instead.
Tozur notices the man's twitch and the shudder of panic, and he consequently covers his hood even tighter over his face. I shouldn't have...
As you all converse, the line moves very slowly. Its obvious this is a very popular event! You are sure you will be reaching the entrance soon.
Trista accepts Marcus' hand, shaking it warmly.
It really is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Marcus. I know you're apprehensive - no, don't deny it, I can tell - but I ask you to take my word. Toz is a beautiful individual. I've known him for many years. If you're good and kind, as in fairness you seem, you'll find him amenable. If your heart is full of wickedness, he will prove a formidable foe.
She gives a final squeeze, and lets Marcus' hand fall.
Hey - it looks like the line is moving! Mayhap we'll be inside soon.
Dzae is warmed to hear his friend's expression of protectiveness. He states, You always had my back when you were with us at the Circus. It is good to have a friend among these strangers. He leans down closer to Khun-duhn and whispers,
Speaking of strangers did you catch that little guy behind us wrapping his cloak so tight he might smother himself? What do you think he's hiding?
While whispering he discreetly peers back over his shoulder to get a better look at the cloaked figure. At that moment he sees the person open his hood a little to show himself to the sellsword.
Perception to catch a glimpse of Tozur's face and identify his race:
If Dzae does see Tozur and now knows he is a goblin: He hurriedlly whispers to Khun-duhn, He's a goblin! Under that cloak, it's a goblin! Although both his father's teaching and his experience at the Circus taught him to be accepting of all peoples, his mother taught him of the wars between gnomes and goblins. Therefore he eyes the cloaked goblin with renewed suspicion, his left hand slowly wandering toward the hilt of his rapier.
If Dzae does not see enough, he whispers to Khun-duhn, There is something about that little guy, but I just can't figure it out
In both cases he continues to watch Tozur discreetly.
Speaking of strangers did you catch that little guy behind us wrapping his cloak so tight he might smother himself? What do you think he's hiding?
"Dunno. Maybe he's hideously scarred. Maybe he's got tentacles where his face should be. Maybe he's a dragon in disguise," Khun-duhn theorizes, a slight grin taking shape as his theories become more preposterous.
He's a goblin! Under that cloak, it's a goblin!
"Yup, that he is. Can't say as I expected that," Khun-duhn replies drily.
While reaching for his rapier, Dzae paused. Wisdom was never his strong suit. He tended to dive right in and damn the consequences. His gnome parents and even Khun-duhn had been his guides. Now having been rejoined with Kuhn-duhn after years of following his own impulses made him think twice. His opportunity to win the Tournament would likely slip away if the gendarmes grabbed him for fighting. So he chose to defer to Kuhn-duhn. What should we do Kudo? Goblins are dangerous and cannot be trusted, he said while continuing to watch the Goblin over his shoulder.
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(Perception)
Turning to address Dzae, Marcellus says with a hint of fury in his tone and loud enough to be heard by Trista and Tozur as well-
Elf, Dwarf. Sir Tozur has done nothing wrong but to keep himself concealed from the prejudices of others, myself included and I happen to consider myself to be an extremely open minded individual. He appears to be a civilised goblin and so I propose we do not do anything hasty and give him some benefit of doubt. In addition, this fine woman behind me, Trista, vouches for him- we have a witness to his good nature and none to attest to a darker side. Leave him be or you'll answer to me he finishes, clenching his Fauchard tightly and tensing his shoulders. Taking a deep breath and calming himself down, Marcellus' angry posture slowly fades to be replaced by a calmer smile. He extends his hand to the pair.
I apologise for my borish threat- i'm a firm advocate of liberty and freedom and you managed to touch on a sore subject with me. May I offer you some wine or water and perhaps a lighter topic of conversation between the five of us? What brings you all to Riddleport? I'll go first- i'm seeking work at the Goblin. Security work, as mercenary work seems to have dried up of late. Tozur, don't be afraid. What brings you here and away from your kin, goblin?
When Tozur overhears the elf and the... mysterious grey-skinned man's gossip of him, he grows disheartened and considers leaving. When Marcellus stands up for him, however, he feels his jaw dropping ever so slightly. He watches the man deliver a firm, almost angry speech, and Tozur is awestruck by the courage it would take to stand up for one of his kind.
When he is addressed, he looks up at Trista, at the elf and the ... dwarf?, and at Marcellus. He lifts his hood ever so slightly, so that his face isn't covered in too many layers of cloth - it's easier to breathe too!, and he replies. "I haven't spoken to my kin in nine years - Trista taught me how to read and write and speak after I left my tribe, and for two years I wandered Varisia, until I came to Roderic's Cove. Then the Blot came and I... I'm here because I want to find out what it is and how to stop it. It's queer. It's wrong, it's...bad news."
"I... I'm sorry for not shaking your hand, Mr. Marcellus." He looks up at the man and reaches out his own hand this time, clawed and sharp.
Tozur shakes the enormous hand - at least compared to his own - as firmly as he can.
Well met. The Blot? I have heard of nothing going by that name. What is it?
"You haven't seen the dark cloud looming over Riddleport? Rumours I've caught both here and in Roderic's Cove all refer to it as the Blot and it's been in the sky for three months."
What should we do Kudo? Goblins are dangerous and cannot be trusted,
"Maybe, lad. But surface-worlders say the same 'bout my people too. That make you think any less of me?" Khun-duhn asks softly. "I say let's give him the benefit of the doubt."
Elf, Dwarf. Sir Tozur has done nothing wrong but to keep himself concealed from the prejudices of others, myself included and I happen to consider myself to be an extremely open minded individual. He appears to be a civilised goblin and so I propose we do not do anything hasty and give him some benefit of doubt. In addition, this fine woman behind me, Trista, vouches for him- we have a witness to his good nature and none to attest to a darker side. Leave him be or you'll answer to me he finishes, clenching his Fauchard tightly and tensing his shoulders. Taking a deep breath and calming himself down, Marcellus' angry posture slowly fades to be replaced by a calmer smile. He extends his hand to the pair.
I apologise for my borish threat- i'm a firm advocate of liberty and freedom and you managed to touch on a sore subject with me. May I offer you some wine or water and perhaps a lighter topic of conversation between the five of us? What brings you all to Riddleport? I'll go first- i'm seeking work at the Goblin. Security work, as mercenary work seems to have dried up of late. Tozur, don't be afraid. What brings you here and away from your kin, goblin?
"Yup. Definitely talks like a noble," Khun-duhn says under his breath.
"Khun-dhun's the name," the hooded gray dwarf introduces himself, reaching out to clasp Marcellus' hand. "An' this is Dzae. He's here lookin' for work, an' I'm here t' keep him out of trouble. Ye say ye're a mercenary? Now that's... interestin'. Well, if ye're handin' out wine I won't say no, long as ye let me buy ye a drink once we get in the casino."
"I haven't spoken to my kin in nine years - Trista taught me how to read and write and speak after I left my tribe, and for two years I wandered Varisia, until I came to Roderic's Cove. Then the Blot came and I... I'm here because I want to find out what it is and how to stop it. It's queer. It's wrong, it's...bad news."
Upon hearing the goblin reveal a bit about his past and his concern regarding the Blot, Khun-duhn says nothing but fixes him with an appraising gaze bearing a measure of newfound respect. After a moment the gray dwarf offers his hand in greeting to the goblin. "Well met," he says.
"Maybe, lad. But surface-worlders say the same 'bout my people too. That make you think any less of me?" Khun-duhn asks softly. "I say let's give him the benefit of the doubt."
Dzae pauses then gives a lopsided grin, My Duergar friend, from the depths you've always brought deep wisdom. I will do."
He turns as the Warrior begins his speech, and listens, his grin broadening.
[b]Elf, Dwarf. Sir Tozur has done nothing wrong but to keep himself concealed from the prejudices of others, myself included and I happen to consider myself to be an extremely open minded individual. He appears to be a civilised goblin and so I propose we do not do anything hasty and give him some benefit of doubt. In addition, this fine woman behind me, Trista, vouches for him- we have a witness to his good nature and none to attest to a darker side. Leave him be or you'll answer to me he finishes, clenching his Fauchard tightly and tensing his shoulders. Taking a deep breath and calming himself down, Marcellus' angry posture slowly fades to be replaced by a calmer smile. He extends his hand to the pair.
I apologise for my borish threat- i'm a firm advocate of liberty and freedom and you managed to touch on a sore subject with me. May I offer you some wine or water and perhaps a lighter topic of conversation between the five of us? What brings you all to Riddleport? I'll go first- i'm seeking work at the Goblin. Security work, as mercenary work seems to have dried up of late. Tozur, don't be afraid. What brings you here and away from your kin, goblin?
"Yup. Definitely talks like a noble," Khun-duhn says under his breath.
"Khun-dhun's the name," the hooded gray dwarf introduces himself, reaching out to clasp Marcellus' hand. "An' this is Dzae. He's here lookin' for work, an' I'm here t' keep him out of trouble. Ye say ye're a mercenary? Now that's... interestin'. Well, if ye're handin' out wine I won't say no, long as ye let me buy ye a drink once we get in the casino."
Dzae interjects, I'm not in trouble yet, Kudu. But just to keep it that way, why don't you explain to him about my gnomeness. That way I can drink his wine and not have to stab him for calling me an elf! With a laugh he takes the offered wine pitcher and turns it up taking a long swig before passing it to Khun-duhn. Good vintage, thanks!
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Well, if ye're handin' out wine I won't say no, long as ye let me buy ye a drink once we get in the casino."[/b]
Deal- although I have plenty to go around so think nothing of it. Forgive me, but did your companion just refer to himself as a Gnome?
I feel strangely normal among these folk... Marcellus thinks to himself.
The line continues to move forward, and you all can now see the entrance. Its being flanked on each side by what appears to be a women dressed as some sort of winged devil like creature.
Its a Succubus. Nevermind that those are demons and not devils, it appears these folk do not care.
You cannot see inside however due to the sheer mass of people.
Forgive me, but did your companion just refer to himself as a Gnome?
"Aye, that he did. Tallest gnome I ever met, too," Khun-duhn replies drily. With his face hidden within the hood of his cloak, it is impossible to tell by his expression whether the gray-skinned dwarf is joking or serious.
Hearing his friend his friend's dry response and seeing the look of utter confusion (Or iss it just disbelief?) on Marcellus' face, Dzae is reminded of another of Dada Zar's sayings "You can use a joke to make a friend or break a friend." These are bold and honest people. Khun-duhn seems to like them. I can use a few more good friends.
Still smiling, Dzae explains, I survived some unknown and unremembered tragedy as a youth. I was raised by this wisest, kindest people you could ever meet and they happened to be gnomes. Thus I am a gnome, by adoption yes, but a gnome no less. It is the life I remember and love. It is who I am.
He accepts the pitcher again and takes an even larger swig and laughs a friendly, welcoming laugh. He hands the wine back to Marcellus with one hand and offers the other to shake.
As the crowd moves forward, Tozur is struck dumb by what appears to be the establishment's...bouncers? He tugs on Trista's sleeve. "Succubi! I think they are succubi... or are they elaborate costumes?"
He feels a little anxious, having tuned out of the other three men's joking conversation.
Trista smiles wryly.
They are costumes, Toz - see the hair protruding, there and there? Not to worry - not yet, anyway.
She waves to the grey dwarf and the self-proclaimed gnome ahead in the line.
Trista Goodheart, servant of Shelyn. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Thank you for agreeing to allow Tozur the chance to prove himself. I assure you, you will not be disappointed.
"Shelyn eh? Well that'd fit the 'Beauty' part, but she seems pretty fair-tempered... don't know where the 'Wrath' part comes into it. An' if the goblin is a spellsword, that sure would be 'Unlikely'," Khun-duhn thinks to himself as he acknowledges Trista's introduction by bowing his head in greeting.
"Pleased t' meet ye, lass. Khun-duhn's the name. Dzae an' I used t' live in a circus, so we're used t' givin' people the benefit of the doubt an' judgin' 'em more by their actions than their appearance."
Dzae moves around Marcellus to better greet Trista. As he moves closer he is reminded of the only Aasimar he ever knew well, Alynna, who had been another acrobat with the circus. She also happened to be his first love. As Dzae approaches Trista he bows. Upon rising he smiles and says to her,
Having had Trista's reassurance that they were, in fact, costumes and not actual Succubi, he permits himself to relax ever so slightly. He tunes in to the conversation as it carries on - and when the elf, or as he proclaimed himself to be, the gnome advances with that angelic language, Tozur raises an eyebrow.
The line finally moves forward enough that you all are able to finally see into the Golden Goblin, and are at the registration desk.
Just inside the main doors, two sultry beauties scantily clad and wearing faux bat wings, devil horns, and tails play the part of
alluring succubi. Both are employees of the Gold Goblin, and they cheerfully register contestants for the tournament and process entry fees. Armed guards stand nearby to either side of an immense treasure chest into which each patron’s entry fee is added. The guards are on hand to not only protect the money, but to prevent any overzealous admirers from trying to dare the infamous touch of a succubus.
Beyond the registration table is the hall’s game floor. Dozens of gamblers, waitresses dressed as succubi, and bouncers mill about the room, wandering amid tables offering various games while dealers shuffle cards, roll dice, and spin wheels. Moving through this throng are a dozen more of the barely clad, batwinged vixens serving drinks and batting coal-black eyelashes flirtatiously for tips. In the center of the chamber is a short podium atop which sits a massive gold chest affixed to the floor by similarly gaudy chains. On either side of it stands a barechested bouncer in the exotic garb of some foreign sultan’s court. Each stands with muscled arms crossed over his chest and with a naked scimitar of prodigious size tucked through his waistband. High above them, from the hall’s cloth-draped ceiling, hangs a brass birdcage within which crouches a small, bat-winged, pointy-tailed devilish creature that sulks as it gazes over the room and occasionally rattles the bars threateningly.
As each of you come up to the registration desk, you are offered a piece of parchment, which reads as follows:
I, _________________ , do hereby sacrifice my immortal soul and the worldly sum of 10 pieces of silver to the Devil to hold in escrow against his own stake of 10,000 silver coins in the gambling tournament being held at the Gold Goblin Gambling Hall of Riddleport on this Oathday, 14th day of Arodus, 4708 ar. I understand that my soul will be placed on deposit in the Hells’ deepest pit of Nessus. Furthermore, I understand that all winnings shall be catalogued in concordance of souls, to be represented by teeth, eyes, and hearts of the damned. By participating in the gambling tournament and beginning in the first pit of Avernus, my winnings shall earn my way deeper through the Hells on the following schedule:
Dis -- 1 gold eye
Erebus -- 3 gold eyes and a Badge of Dis
Phlegethon -- 5 gold eyes and a Badge of Erebus
Stygia -- 10 gold eyes and a Badge of Phlegethon
Malebolge -- 25 gold eyes and a Badge of Stygia
Cocytus -- 50 gold eyes and a Badge of Malbolge
Caina -- 75 gold eyes and a Badge of Cocytus
Nessus -- 100 gold eyes and a Badge of Caina
I understand that if I should lose my stake in the tournament I shall receive the Devil’s Mark and my soul shall be cast upon the rocks on the shore of the River Styx. I understand that if I elect to cash in my winnings before reaching the pit of Nessus I shall forfeit my soul and 50% of the cash value of my winnings for said early departure. If I am the first player to reach Nessus, then I am granted the redemption of my soul and the right to Cheat the Devil and Take his Gold in addition to collecting my winnings. In such a circumstance, all other players shall receive the Devil’s Mark and forfeit their souls.
This is I do swear.
Witnessed by: Old Scratch ____
The creature in the cage is a real live Imp!
You realize that this is most assuredly a fake contract
Once each of you has paid your dues, and signed your contract, you enter the Goblin proper. The main hall is a massive room, with more then a dozen gaming tables spread out along the floor available for people to win, wager, and of course lose thier hard earned coin. Right now the tournament has not begun, and much of people already inside are playing cards and other games with no wagering. There are guards who patrol the floor, and several succi walking carrying trays for drinks. There are also roughly 17 dealers, one at each table.
As you all enter it seems that only a few more people are allowed entrance, and then the doors close as night settles, the darkness visable through the windows around the hall.
Once the darkness has fully settled outside, several employees enter the hall, carrying torches shaped like pitchforks carrying burning heads, and they light several large braziers, causing the room to take on a more inferal hue. A hush falls over the crowd as a short man climbs up to the central podium accompained by two of the "succubi". He stands before the large gold chained chest, with a demoness on each side.
The man himself is wearing what appears to be a formal suit, and his black hair is slicked back in an attempt to hide the fact that its thinning. His left arm however is the most unique feature, as it ends in a stump just above the wrist, and is affixed with a broze cap that has a large and odd shaped key on it.
You recognize the man as Saul Vancaskerkin, the owner of the Goblin and host of this very tournament!
The man bows, clears his throat, and begins speaking.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Gold Goblin Gambling Hall and your chance to cheat the Devil and win back not only your soul but all of his gold as well. I am Saul Vancaskerin!” He says this last as he pats the large chest before which he stands. “I hope you found your reception by the Devil’s lovely temptresses suitably entertaining.” This is met by a general murmur of laughter and a few catcalls. “Let’s take this moment to thank Old Scratch himself for attending this event. Not only did he loan us these lovely, dark angels, but he also emptied the deepest vaults of Hell itself to provide the gold for this tournament.”
With this statement the man directs the crowd's attention to the creature in the birdcage. At the sudden attention, Old Scratch flies into a furious rage, banging on the bars and spiiting howling and screaming vile epithats in what has to be Infernal at everyone assembled. His theatrics are received by the crowd with guffaws and even a bit of applause. As the noise dies down, and Scratch calms down, Saul continues.
“Of course, he plans on replacing what he loses in gold with the souls of those of you who don’t win. The tournament rules are quite simple—as you play, you’ll earn more chips. And with those chips, you’ll be able to bribe your way out of the current Hell you’re trapped in, working your way down deeper until you get to Old Scratch’s treasury. Currently, all of you are Old Scratch’s prisoners in the first of the Hells, Avernus. If you want to work your way down to the ninth circle, you need to win games. Each time you win, you’ll be awarded a golden eye. If you come in second, you’ll get a silver tooth. And third place wins a copper heart. These bits of flesh and bone are what the devils use in Hell for currency, and they’re what you’ll need to pay in order to bribe your way into the next layer of hell. The first player to win a game after reaching Nessus not only keeps his winnings for that game, but also earns back his soul and the ten thousand silver coins that the Devil put up for this tournament. You can, of course, decide to cash out your winnings at any time you want, but if you do, or if you run out of money entirely... well, that means Old Scratch gets you.” Vancaskerkin grins evilly and the caged imp cuts loose with another profane tirade. “And that earns you the Devil’s Mark and an escort out of the game hall until the tournament is over. What, you ask, exactly is this Devil’s Mark? Well, it’s something too utterly horrible to even contemplate. The forfeiture of your very soul, it is. But I suppose I can show you what it is— gods know I more than deserve the Devil’s Mark. In fact, better make it two, girls!” With that, the two succubi accompanying him lean over and each firmly plants a kiss on Saul’s cheek with her ruby-red lips. When they pull away, their lip rouge has left clearly visible prints in the same shocking red on his cheeks. Saul beams as he cries out, “The Devil’s Mark, everyone!” which is greeted by a flurry of shouts, catcalls, and hoots. “Now, let’s cheat the Devil and take his gold!” which prompts one more rabid flurry from the imprisoned fiend above, and with that, the tournament begins.
Bounder is unique among gambling games in that both the players and dealer use dice. The dealer gets three 6-sided dice, and each player gets two 20-siders.
To start, each player bets a stake (minimum 1 sp). Each player rolls his first d20, making his “point.” After all players have rolled their points, each player may double his stake if desired. Then the dealer rolls 3d6. Anyone whose point the dealer matches loses his stake. Then each player rolls his second d20. If the player’s two dice results are on either side of the dealer’s result—one greater than and one less than the dealer’s number—he “bounds” the dealer and wins an amount equal to the amount he bet. Otherwise, he loses his stake. If a player rolls a 1 and a 20 (or a 20 and a 1), he wins double his bet.
Basically Rhoulette. Can use a 12 Sided Die to Simulate. 12 Spaces.
To play, each player puts a marker and any number of coins on one or more of the spaces on the ghoulette wheel (minimum 10 cp per space). The croupier then spins Dungo until he comes to a stop. Dungo then issues an enraged insult at someone based on the particular topic he is looking at on the wheel. Any player who has coins on the subject matter of this insult is paid the amount of coins he bet in the next highest denomination—copper gets paid in silver (e.g., a 15 cp bet gets 15 sp), silver in gold, gold in platinum, and platinum in ten times the amount. If Dungo says “something nice,” each player gets a consolation
prize of the amount of coins he bet in the next lowest denomination, rounded down (e.g., a 15 cp bet gets back 1 cp). Then the croupier presses a button that tilts the edges of the wheel slightly inward, and all original bets (regardless of win or loss) slide into slots under Dungo’s head and into the coffer under the table.
A 12 is Something Nice, and cannot be bet on.
Golem is a player-vs.-player card game similar to five-card draw poker, but with a “golem hand.” Golem is played in a series of games; one game must be completely resolved before the next begins. The player to the right of the dealer gets the amulet to start the night. The dealer deals five cards to each player. Starting at the amulet, each player can bet, raise one coin, or fold. Anyone who folds is out of the game, and can’t come back in until a new game begins. Next, each player may discard up to two cards and receive that many back from the dealer. These discarded cardsgo facedown on the center of the table. Another round of betting occurs, starting at the amulet. If, at any point, only one player hasn’t folded, he wins the pot—the house taking 5 percent—and the game is over. If at least two players are still in after all bets are called, those players reveal their hands. Then the dealer “ups the golem.” The golem hand—those cards discarded when players had the chance to draw new cards—is revealed, and if the player with the best hand beats the golem, he wins the pot, and the game is over. But if the player with the best hand does not beat the golem, that player must put into the pot an amount of coins equal to what’s already in the pot, and all cards are collected so that a new hand can be dealt for the players who were still in at the end. This continues
until someone wins the pot. The house takes 5 percent of the final pot, and then the amulet moves one positionto the right and a new game is dealt.
Skiffs is a halfling gambling game played on a three-by-three board or set of boxes (the “lake”). Each player puts up in 25 tokens (“skiffs”). The dealer takes one skiff (the “racer”) from each player and then places the rest in a bowl called the “storm.” The storm is flipped over the lake in one smooth motion, so each of the skiffs falls into one of the 9 boxes. (If a skiff falls between parts of the lake, the dealer places it where more than half of it lies, choosing randomly between the two boxes if it isn’t clear.)
Since this cannot be simulated I am not going to put the rest of the rules up
Celestial stuff
Trista smiles, and replies warmly:
When she is presented with the contract, Trista eyes it distastefully.
I am not at all certain that this is something I should sign. Is this binding, do you think? she asks whoever is near.