DeepBlue's Vagabond - Act 1

[Deepblue706]

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Is it safe to presume you folk want to head back to The Harpy's Head (that place with that guy who has the things)?

[EvilRoeSlade]

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Yeah, I'm heading back anyway. Going to get as much of a full-day rest as possible.

[Deepblue706]

The group departs the theatrehouse posthence, leaving Thomas to lock up the massive wooden doors at the entrance alone. Having sustained a few minor wounds, and enough action for a day, you make your next destination The Harpy's Head, so that you may rest and recover, and prepare yourself for what may lie ahead.

As the five of you walk through the bustling streets of the merchant's district, you finally come to a large, crowded area, where the daily traffic has come to a full halt. The faceless many stand before a large tavern, from which a blaze has sprouted from seemingly nowhere. The char sends a thick, black smoke into the air, which fleeing patrons choke on as they exit the burning building in terror.

"There's people in there!" a man shouts, as he approaches the building's entrance. His path is blocked by a halberd-bearing guardsman who quickly arrives to the scene. "You can't go in there! It's too dangerous!" He barks, and then turns to the building himself. There is certainly crying from within the building, calling for help, but the fire consumes the building's structure at an ever-increasing rate.

Those in the street gaze up at the rampaging flames in shock, unable to react to the situation in any effective manner. One man is heard telling another to fetch a holy preist of Faharam, who is seen sprinting off to find the nearest chapel. The others silently despair at the idea of others being trapped inside.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

"No! This is horrible!" Without thinking, Flare slips the ring onto his finger and rushes towards the blaze, his veiled and cloaked form fluttering.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold looks shifty, glancing from side to side. When Flare rushes ahead, however, he sighs and tightens the strap on his mandolin and rolls up his ruffed sleeves.
don't want those catching on fire...
With that thought, he dashes after the strange hatted man.

[Deepblue706]

"Wait up!" shouts Len, who thoughtlessly follows as the two of you enter. "You can't go in there! Are you crazy?!" shouts the nearby guard, whom Len shoves aside carelessly. Ritan and Fargrim seem a bit hesitant to enter. "What are you doing?! You idiots!" calls Ritan, who then follows Len inside. Fargrim remains at a safe distance.

Flare, now inside, unfortunately gains no apparent boon from the ring. The fires blaze all around him, creating a heat most could not stand to bare long. The choking smoke forces him to crouch down a little bit, so that he can breathe properly. Harold, right behind him, finds the conditions to be equally despairing.

Glancing around the tavern hall, the two see that the internal structure is still intact, but will not hold long, as the fires are widely spread.

As their eyes scan up a stairway and across several doors (that presumably lead to rooms), a cry comes from behind one of them. Len, just arriving behind you both, hears the cry and darts up the stairs. Ritan then grabs Harold from behind. "Don't try to be a hero! You're gonna get yourselves killed!"

Len reaches the top of the stairs, and happens to glance towards the bar. She points to it, exclaiming, "There's a man collapsed behind there! Grab him, ace!" She then looks back to the doors, trying to pinpoint the location of the cry.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare briefly wonders why Len, who must have at least twenty pounds of muscle on him, has volunteered him for the task, but decides to to spend too much time pondering it. He drops down on his hands and knees and crawls toward the bar, trying to find a safe path.

[Deepblue706]

Flare successfully reaches the bar, finding a middle-aged man laying unconscious behind it. Len, listening closely for the person on the second floor, eventually pinpoints it behind a closed door, and tries to open it. It doesn't budge. Throwing her weight into it, the door comes off its hinges, and she falls forward, into the room.

The wood structure cracks and burns around you, and a distinct creeking shoots across the ceiling. Harold hesitates, and is further beckoned by Ritan. "Come on, already!" he shouts at no one in particular, trying to pull Harold back outside.

The flames continue to roar around you.

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Reflex saves, please

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare stop what he's doing and curls up in a ball, trying to use the bar as a shield.

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Reflex - (1d20+2)[9]
If I survive this, which isn't too damn likely (2/6 hp), then I'm going to try to drag the guy out.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold
Whimpering, Harold tries to shield himself:
(1d20+4)[14]

[Deepblue706]

A beam falls from above, landing directly onto Ritan, knocking him out immediately upon impacting with his skull. Harold manages to avoid being pinned under the beam, but he immediately notices another dilemma - the beam now blocks the doorway. The main entrance is no long an option.

However, anyone in the hall sees there is a broken glass window just a few feet to the side, albeit a bed of flames standing before it would surely burn anyone who tried to get through.

Flare is lightly singed by nearby flames as he drags the man out from behind the bar (1 damage).

Len reappears in the doorway she broke into, holding in her arms a young child, completely shrouded in bedsheets. She gazes at the blocked entranceway, and immediately calls you both upward - completely unaware of Ritan's state. "Come on, there's a ledge outside a window over here! We can climb out!"

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

"Len! I can't take anymore. Ritan's pinned under rubble, you have to help him. I'm... getting out of here."

Flare begins staggering toward the stairs, dragging the man with him.

[Deepblue706]

Harold runs up to Len. "I can't get Ritan out, give me the girl and I can at least bring her outside!" Len points Harold to the window she spotted, and he makes his way out with haste. Len rushes down to Flare and the man he drags, torn between helping him and rescuing Ritan. But looking upon the beam on Ritan's back, wreathed in a high blaze, you both realize any human effort would be futile.

The flames continue to roar, and the air becomes too hard to breathe. You both find yourselves choking hard, and with no doubt that the building will come down soon. With tears in her eyes, Len helps Flare lift up the unidentified man. "Come on! We have to get out of here!" She tugs in the direction Harold exitted through.

[EvilRoeSlade]

But... Flare sighs. Sorry. He weakly makes his way up the stairs, barely having the will left to resist Len.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
The bedraggled bard stares through bleary eyes at the street scene as he stumbles out of the scorching structure. For perhaps the first time, he is speechless.

[Deepblue706]

Climbing out the window on the second floor, Flare and Len safely escape the blaze by leaping down onto a bale of hay, left out beside the stables that were maintained on this side of the building. As Harold stands near, silently, the man you saved coughs, uttering a weezing "thank you". He seems to lose consciousness.

Then, the integrity of the structure finally collapses inward, the flames consuming what remains. "RITAN!" shouts Len, crying over having left him inside. "I'm so sorry..." A crowd of robed figures bearing the symbol of Faharam surround you, urging you away from the site. Meanwhile, several others of their number offer a heavenly chant to the skies, and summon a rain to douse the flames. Commonfolk try to lend a hand by throwing buckets of water at the still-roaring blaze, though their contribution is minimal compared to the intervention of the divine rituals.

The holy preists' hymn echoes through the air, and the fires quickly die out.

Two of the robed men urge you let go of the man and the child, and another tries to calm Len. She fails to say anything coherent, letting her tears tell of her sorrows.

One of the robed figures approach Flare, and another Harold. "You're lucky to have made it out, friend. Please, be still, and let me treat your wounds." says the one attending Flare. The other says nothing.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare just slumps to the ground, meekly allowing the priest to tend to him as he gazes off with distant eyes. "I'm sorry Ritan. May you be born again anew."

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold strokes his chin. Now why had he done that? Had he caught the heroics bug from these new associates of his? Might be a story in this, somewhere...

[Deepblue706]

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You're both healed to full. Also, did either you guys have any real strong opinions on those people from the recruitment thread? Things have been...inconclusive.

As you collect yourselves, You spot Fargrim approaching, face filled with frustration. "What were you thinking?!" He shouts at both Harold and Flare. "You could have..." He looks around. "Where's Ritan?"

He then turns to see Len clenching her fists, staring into the remains of the building - he aptly deduces what had occurred within a few moments. "Dear God..." He groans, and then gives a silent prayer.

One of the priests approaches your quartet, notably sad for the losses, but still looking more pleased than the others. "I have been informed you are responsible for saving that man and child..." He says with a faint smile. "You possess great courage. Unfortunately, we cannot honor you with any gifts, but please accept our blessings. This world needs more people like yourselves."

[Deepblue706]

The priests beg the people leave the scene and continue with their lives, as some among their number thoroughly check what remains of the structure in earnest hopes. You are urged to depart as well, assured that you've done all you can, and that rest is recommended. You are also told funeral services would be provided on saturday, two days from now, and are welcome to attend.

With no further purpose here, Fargrim suggests that you immediately return to The Harpy's Head, and call it a day. A lot of work still has to be done, but distractions such as this would no doubt hinder your efforts.

When you arrive at the inn, Len suggets you report to Wyatt, but upon knocking at his door, there is no answer. It's doubtful he's presently in his room. However, it's still early in the day, and there's plenty a man such as he might have to do.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare gives Fargrim a distant look, eyes shining coldly through the veil upon his hat. He didn't even try to help. Abruptly, he glances away.

Alright guys, I'm going to try to get some rest. If you go downstairs, do me a favor and have the bartender send a healer to my room. I don't know how much longer I can hold up. He hands the ring and the star to Len. I still don't know what these things are. Let's hang on to them until we figure it out.

[Deepblue706]

Len, still a little uneasy, accepts both the star and the ring, with a nod.

The remainder of the group follows Flare's example, and gets some rest. Len is the only one not seen going to her room - she seems to head to the tavern hall of the inn.

As you rest at The Harpy's Head, little happens. No one notices Wyatt return, and repeated checks to his room yield more unanswered calls. It's evening now, and the inn's halls are now lit by candles and torches. It's a quiet night, with little going on inside or outside these walls.

OOC:

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If you'd like to take actions right now, that's fine. But, if you both want to stay in until the next day, I'll fastforward to then.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold stumbles into the Hary's Head, ash-stained and bleary.
That's the hero's wages. That's why I'm not one, I suppose.
After taking the longest, hottest bath that money can buy, He takes his treasured mandolin down to the commons room and plays some music to set his mind off his troubles, putting a wooden bowl at the toe of his table for anyone to contribute.

Perform - (1d20+8)[21]

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare asks for some soup to be brought up to his room and spends the rest of the day and night in bed.

[Deepblue706]

Harold's performance earns him a few coins - enough to pay for his bath and still make a profit (a net gain of 4 silver pieces).

The next morning, your party reunites in the common room, with an ever-dispassionate Fargrim and a somewhat down Len. The two stand idly, awaiting direction from either one of you. "That Thomas fellow said Mr. Gortana would pay us today. I guess we should head down there now, huh?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold ruffles his own hair, looking a little concerned.
"Yes, we should. But if I know the actors at all, they don't like to awaken from their opium-induced stupors until after noon. We could try our luck, I suppose; wouldn't want him to forget a good turn done."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare chuckles at Harold's words. Yeah, I think that's what we should do too. Then we can maybe figure out what to do with that star, and the ring as well. I'm curious about both of them.

[Deepblue706]

Fargrim nods in approval, and you quickly find yourselves marching back to theatre.

It is a chilly morning, surely the coldest of the season, perhaps a sign of the approach of the end of a very warm summer. But, it is hardly a distraction at this point. Even the various peoples and cultures that would normally fascinate most humans of Valois and Guilder seem to blend into the background. Perhaps, everyone in Porto Giedion gets used to it, eventually. Or perhaps, there are simply more important matters at hand.

You eventually arrive at The Silver Arch, where you find Thomas once more, who is pleased to see you. He moves towards the auditorium doors, calling inside "Mr. Gortana? Our guests are here!" In no time, a large red-haired man with a curved mustache comes through, hands in the pockets of a strange, flashy outfit (of fairly distasteful colors), wearing a slightly unsettling grin on his face.

"Ah, at last, I get to meet the courageous men (and woman) who braved the otherworldly curse that befell us! Praise to you, good sirs (and lady), for your deeds!" He arches a brow. "Who would have guessed there was merely a lone halfling behind it all?" He laughs, and then continues before allowing anyone else an opportunity to speak. "Well, since you've dealt with that pest, we can now continue with our productions! And, to celebrate, our performers wish you to view a special, short play to honor you!" He takes an even more enthusiastic tone, and the booming of his voice echoes through the small room. "The tedious brief scene of Pyramus and and his love, Thisbe; a play of most tragical mirth." He smiles, and continues to speak normally. "It is an ancient tale, recovered from the archives of a writer of times long past. Our actors were ready to perform it nights ago, but the disturbance...well...stopped that. But, in any case, this would surely be the first performance of the play in over a hundred years! Please, will you not stay for a few moments to see it?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold smiles.
"Fine by me. Let me just go and pick up some peanuts first from the market..."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare chuckles kindly and nods. I don't see why not, we aren't really on a schedule at the moment. We'll meet you here Harold, but hmm... you probably have refreshments available already? And I'm curious, where did this play originate?