DeepBlue's Vagabond - Act 1

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold looks with interest at the roadsign.
"That's...intriguing. Yet the sign is at human eye-level. So it's meant to guide either us or people shaped roughly like us. Or lead us into a trap, of course."
He pulls his mandolin more upright about himself.
"You know, there's a story about mischievous fey that live in the woods and play tricks on travelers."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare nods slowly as he stares calmly at the post. Yeah... that looks like a child made it, and it certainly isn't very helpful, so there's definitely a possibility that it's some trick of the faeries. He gestures thoughtfully to the north. Judging by the sign... they probably don't want us to go this way. A pause as he thinks. My vote is west.

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

"Isn't that lovely," says the halfling with one eye soon cocked skyward. "Well, if someone's thinking to play with the road signs, we can always rely on something less prone to mischief. That is, if we're willing to wait about a quarter hour for a measurement. We can even use this signpost to do the job; it's just about the right size. Learned this trick from the navigator on my last ship. Said he was a Searcher before he got stupid and signed up for the skygazer's position. Anyway, we can do that if we don't want to guess. That is, assuming this actually works. Never really had cause to test it before."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len stares around in wide-eyed bewilderment at the twisted arboreal monstrosities surrounding them. Gnarled branches claw at her hair and sleeves and the ghostly murmurs hang at the edges of her hearing; still, these woods are kind of beautiful in their own, surreal way.

When they arrive at the sign, Len sighs, but perks up at Schorbuck's idea. Enchanting as the woods are, she would rather not spend hours lost therein if fifteen minutes' effort can save it.

"I'm all for that." She draws an arrow and plants it in the soil at the tip of the sign's shadow. Then, she rests her hands on her hips and gazes skyward, shielding her eyes.

"You know, I read the most ineteresting paper a while ago-- apparently some guy thinks that the moon revolves around us, but we revolve around the sun. How's that for wild?" she says in the forbidding silence.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold shrugs.
"People who are bored make things up. I shouldn't it matters terribly much if we revolve around the sun or around a giant oyster; we'd still be stuck looking at this crossroads."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

"Psh. You sound like an old turnip farmer, Harold." Len snarks playfully, glancing down at the shadow.

In a minute, he'll see how gaining a deeper understanding of the world around you can solve everyday problems. Any minute, now. Only a matter of time.

...Sooner would be better, little shadow.

"How does this work again, Schorbuck?"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
"How appropriate! You fight like a turnip!"
Harold frowns and scratches the back of his head.
"Er, that sounded far more scathing in my head. Rain check on that witticism."
Meanwhile, Harold wracks his brain for any useful information about childish signs in creepy woods...
Bardic Knowledge - (1d20+3)[16]

[Ya Ta Hey!]

"Well, 'farm you', then" Len quips, loftily raising her chin.

When Harold turns away, she briefly balks until it becomes clear that he's deep in thought.

"Whatever's on your mind, please tell me its not you trying to grace that with a comeback." she prompts, getting a dismissive wave in response. She waits a moment.

"...Well?"

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Don't worry about answering that until DB gets back to you.

Since this is the internet and unintentional insult comes in spades, I'd like to take this chance to say that what I write is always in capricious spirit, unless I make it pretty obvious otherwise. So if it ever seems like I snuck in a snide personal potshot at someone, and it wasn't Len openly shouting, then take it as teasing. This is in advance.

Also, Max never got back to me about the bandits. Or the future Len-beefing opportunities that will make her less turnippy.

[Deepblue706]

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Sorry Tamale - I thought I addressed the bandit question. My bad.

Maximilian, on bandits: "I don't know much about them - there are just a lot of them rampant outside the city limits. They try to raid trade caravans wherever they can. A lot of merchants have been suffering lately."

Skenardo will receive a PM

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold shrugs off Len's vituperations as he thinks.
"Well," he says at length, "I think the signs, ah-ha, point to fey. Real bandits would probably have better workmanship. If that's so, then either they're trying to help us, or trying to trick us. If it's the latter, then chances are pretty good they'll just escalate the pranks into less...amusing ones."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Vituperations...I'd love to bust that out in a Scrabble game.

So I guess I'm back on daily posting, which I'll try to maintain throughout the schoolyear.

"Crafty types tend to use your own reasoning against you. All they do is distort the facts a little" Len thumps the signpost with her foot. "...and then let you do the rest. I think Maximillian is right about just ignoring these things.

She takes Fargrim by the arm, not about to confront a magical threat without some countermeasures.


But Grim and I will go down the North path a little bit and see if there's any reason why we shouldn't be there."

They proceed.

[Deepblue706]

Fargrim objects to Len's proposal. "What! This is absurd. I'm not splitting away from the group, for anything. Only God knows what foul creatures may lurk in these forests..." He glances back to the others. "We should stay together!"

Maximilian gives Fargrim a nod, and then suggests to Len the party waits a little longer. "These forests are dangerous, filled with ancient spirits and ferocious creatures. Were we to split up, I do not believe we would be well prepared for any further threats. If we face the road together, perhaps we'll be alright."

Meanwhile, Schorbuk, Harold and Flare notice that while not too much time has passed, the sun seems to be moving as if your course had never changed - the sign reading "South This Way" would seemingly be west (as if you were correctly travelling north thus far), the face would be truly south, the image of the monster north, and the mystery sign east. The crossroads, real or imagined, are not visibly displaced or revolved in any such way - details supported by what would appear to be sun's normal route of travel through the sky.

Willard, although visibly nervous, steps forward, continuing north. "I don't care what's ahead - if there is some kind of monster waiting for us, there's more than enough of us to take him down! If he's smart, he'll start running now!" He turns back to Maximilian. "Let's keep heading north, Mister Mallory! If we wait here too long, it'll get dark and then we won't be able to find our way!" Maximilian glances to the other party members for opinions.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare holds up a hand to Len. Hold on, they're right. Let's not make this one of those fairy tales where the heroes all get seperated and the fey humiliate them, trap them, and pick them off one by one. I'm alright going north too, or either direction really. Though I would prefer that we go west. After all, if they're trying to scare us away from that direction, we shouldn't automatically assume that it's for nefarious reasons. They could have a valid cause for wanting travellers to avoid that direction, and we might be able to avoid conflict with them if we're respectful.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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I was kinda hoping to get us separated because something needs to happen, but if I'd die for it...

"Let's not make this one of those fairy tales where the heroes all get seperated and the fey humiliate them, trap them, and pick them off one by one."

"I've never--" Len begins as Flare continues his monologue.

"After all, if they're trying to scare us away from that direction, we shouldn't automatically assume that it's for nefarious reasons."

"But you just said--!"

"They could have a valid cause for wanting travellers to avoid that direction, and we might be able to avoid conflict with them if we're respectful."

Len sighs and rakes a hand through her hair, unhappy that everyone seems to be in favor of leading their protectee ahead without letting her sleuth out trouble first.

They have a point. Good to know they care, I guess..

The hardest thing about having been invalid for so long is getting accustomed to her new limitations; the carefree habits from an adolescense with no-one to fear are hard to shake.

She glances back at the sign and forces a sporting smile. "Alright. Let's go together and find out what that monster carving is really supposed to mean."

Oh, and she retrieves her arrow from the dirt.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
"Hmm. I'm not convinced. I think our best bet at the moment is to humor the creatures that put up the signpost. But as you will;" he strums a soft minor chord on his mandolin, and hums, almost to himself;

"Westward, woodward, Eastward sea/
Oh, you fairy fey,
you thorn-crowned queens return to me/
my lover gone astray.

For sorely do I miss him/
my bonny William Lee,
But woodward went he walking
and now he's lost to me.
"

[Velvet Elvis]

Schorbuk

Schorbuk merely shrugs at the intervening questions and remarks, while remaining intent upon the slow, inexorable shifting of the shadow. Though it shouldn't be necessary, he wanted to ensure that it wouldn't suddenly do some odd realignment while they weren't looking. Once it appeared all was well in the sky, he folded his arms and regarded the signpost itself with a quizzical look.

Before the rest made an actual collective decision on which road to take, he finally broke his silence.

"Hold it a moment. Now, let's see. Perhaps this sign isn't intended to fool or misdirect anyone, at all. Perhaps it's simply been...." Schorbuk reaches out and grabs the shaft of the signpost with both hands and with some effort, twists it so that the sign proclaiming a southerly direction pointed back they way they came. "Turned about."

Dusting his hands, he looks to the various directions, and adds, "If we give the sign credence, then south is south, east is a sad place, west is a monster lurking to eat us and north is just someplace the locals that made the sign have never been to. Perhaps? Thus, Willard is probably quite on track, though for less reason. We were headed north, so we might as well stay on course."

Of course, it was entirely true that the sign was completely and utterly misleading in all directions, no matter its orientation. Well, except that the pointer proclaiming "South This Way" would be right a quarter of the time. The sign aside, though, north had been defined by proof of sun and shadow, and that should be all they needed to know.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

"Three votes for north, Sir Mallory. All joking and bravado aside, I think whatever gets us out of these woods the quickest is the safest route.

Got an opinion, 'Grim?" She glances over at the cleric.

[Deepblue706]

Maximilian seems impressed with Schorbuk, and rubs chin at the idea of the sign merely being turned. "I hadn't even considered that. But, is it really likely that such a thing would happen by chance? Maybe we're getting worked up about nothing - but maybe there's more to it than that. Personally, I'm feeling a little less dreadful, now, but I think we should keep on our guard nonetheless." When Len speaks, he gives her a nod, and then looks to Flare for any changes in opinion.

Fargrim, unlike Maximilian, stills seems rather flustered. "Whatever. I don't care. Let's just get moving already." He glances about at his surroundings. "And don't call me "Grim". That's not my name." he hisses, and then looks ahead to the path north.

As Maximilian awaits Flare's thoughts, he gazes upon him curiously. Certainly, his actions have left him with a deep impression. Meanwhile, Willard scratches his head as he serves as an audience for Harold, listening intently to his song. He stands silently in awe at the Bard's talent.

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare shrugs. Alright, if I haven't changed your mind yet, then we'll go north. I hope I don't have to say I told you so though.

He meets Maximilian's gaze without further comment, and smiles mysteriously, a beam of light escaping from his orange eyes as he reaches up to briefly adjust his veil.

[Deepblue706]

The party, without further waiting, takes the northern route. Maximilian, who still seems fairly nervous, makes no comments on what had transpired earlier - keeping his thoughts completely to himself. His stride, however, is not too hesitant - he seems to be walking forward with some confidence. Willard, on the other hand, doesn't appear to be troubled at all.

For some time, the party continues walking with no sight of misleading signs or any other foul omens - the forest seems to be rather pleasant, this way. While the tall, ancient trees block out much of the sun, one can almost feel quite safe around them - as if they exuded some magical aura to ward off not only danger, but feelings of anxiety, fear, regret...this area, in ways, feels like a safe-haven.

This quiet peace lasts you for a while, as you continue your journey - until you abruptly find that the feeling is gone, and you are, in fact, no longer in the forest. The feelings of warmth and tranquility are replaced by a windy chill that come from the plains north of Ibiran Forest - signalling that you are nearly upon your destination. There is no path to greet you beyond this point - instead, you see only rolling hills covered by a grey-ish, dying grass that seems to extend all the way to the high mountain ranges in the far distance. Atop a large hill at the base of the mountains is a small settlement - which Maximilian points out you can reach early evening, if you make a good pace. "That's Epeschel - we'll stay there tonight, and head back this way tomorrow." Willard smiles. "Looks like we made it in one piece!"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold smiles, despite the chill ruffling his sleeves.
"That went well. Good thinking back there; if there's one thing I value, it's manners. But clever thinking is a close second."

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare seems quite pleased with the results. I guess we didn't have as much to worry about as I thought. And we didn't run into any bandits either, though hopefully I'm not speaking too soon. He's been keeping a good pace that wastes little energy, and seems hardly fatigued at all at this point. Throughout the journey he is quiet as usual, keeping whatever thoughts he might be having hidden behind his benevolent expression.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Funny, I just had a similar experience today; I decided to take a little sunday jaunt through Idaho and when I had enough of the non-scenery to be had in the panhandle, I conveniently found a sign that pointed out my town specifically.

What the sign failed to mention was that it would only take you to that town if you navigated thirty miles of unmarked country road and then took all the correct exits, none ofthem labelled. Stupid Department of Transportation pixies.

Over the course of the hike, Len's alertness has degraded from keeping an arrow notched to absently playing with a rope. Having gotten bored of practicing with it like an improvised flail, she works her fingers intently through a growing tangle of twisted hemp strands.

...one upon a time in a land far way,
mistress Yadiy would dance and sway...


She mentally recites, hesitantly miming the instrucitons for the knot she's attempting. Yadda, yadda, yadda, something about flowers, and then the best part--

..around the haystack where the farm boy laid her,
and into the jaws of the town alligator!

Just another reason why uncle Dis was the best teacher ever. She holds up her handiwork, now an impractically heavy hat-like mass of rope, and eagerly tries is on. Booyah!

The hat immediately disintegrates into a messy tangle all over her head, much to its owner's annoyance; Willard spent an extradorinary amount of time carefully coiling this morning, Len realizes.

"I'll fix it, I'll fix it." She preempts him, looping the coils out of her hair. Ohh, how long hair sucks.

Another thought hits Len: really, these hills aren't such a bad place for robbers to hide either, especially if they're horsemen. There definitely wouldn't be any wilderness or pixies to interfere with their pursuit, either.

She coils up the rope, scanning along the hillsides for anybody watching.

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Forget the useless Use Rope check here, that was just me having fun. Next time, I'm gonna tie a lasso and rope in...I dunno, Schorbuck or Harold. But not while Max is watching. That would be unprofessional.

I'd like to take ten on a spot check, please.

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[Deepblue706]

The party makes a light hustle forward, making it to the town at sundown. Len keeps her eyes open as you make your way, spotting no signs of danger.

Maximilian seems very relieved once you enter the town limits. "I'd hate to spend another night out there before being even half-way. We still have to head back in that direction..." He says, with a glance back the way you came.

Willard seems to be pleased as well. "Finally!" He stretches. "Mr. Mallory, let's all get some real food! I'm sick of rations!" Maximilian nods to the boy, and then gestures ahead, to a tavern booming with activity within. "The Red Dragon Inn" is posted on an old sign, outside, with a bold and clever design that features a ferocious depiction of their mascot beast. Inside, there is some music playing, and a rowdy bunch giving a drunken cheer to complement the uplifting performance - which compensates for the town's otherwise very-poor standing.

A glance to the town homes show that many are old and unkempt, some even with boarded windows, and shoddy doors. There is absolutely no one in the streets, and seemingly very few in their homes. No guard seems to be posted at the small tower that stands a few feet from the town entrance.

There is a full stable beside the inn, as well as several horses that fail to fit inside, tied to posts near water-troths just outside the door.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold smiles at the prospect of a soft bed and a breakfast that waits for him to arise.
"Well Mr. Mallory, I expect you'll have some business to take care of tomorrow. Any notion of when you'll be ready to go back?"

[Deepblue706]

Maximilian nods. "I'll be ready to leave before noon, tomorrow. The man I am to meet with lives on the edge of town - I'd hate to disturb him in the evening, even if the transaction is to be rather quick." He smiles. "You can sleep late, if you like - just be ready to go by the time I get back."

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
"Fine, fine." Harold nods amiably. "I believe there's a party happening that doesn't know the life of it has been missing up 'till now." With that rather obtuse pronuncment, Harold shifts his mandolin forward a little on his shoulder and steps towards the Inn itself.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len stares around at the ghetto-tastic town, wondering what correspondence Claudius could possibly have here. Also, she returns the rope to Willard and the recolection of her flail practice gives her an idea.

She glances past the stables for a blacksmith's shop, reasoning that there would be no way someone would go all the way to Porto Gideon to get their horse shod.

Spot (1d20)[1]

As they clomp inside, Len immediately sits down at the bar, near the center of the roaring action.

"What'chyoo celebrating?" she asks the nearest person.

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My idea was to get a length of chain at the blacksmiths and then take it to a forge back in PG and have it modified into a spike chain on the cheap, especially with the four ranks of Craft Len has.

Then I can check "reach weapon" off my to-do list as soon as I level up and get the exotic weapon proficiency. Can I get away with this plan, DB?

[EvilRoeSlade]

Flare

Flare looks dubiously around, his cheer uncharacteristically gone. Hmm. Not where I'll be spending my holiday. If you change your mind about doing this alone, let one of us know. I'm sure any of us would be willing to accompany you, just to make sure everything goes okay.

He follows Len into the tavern, looking around for any inhabitant who might present themselves. What could have happened to this place?

[Deepblue706]

As you enter the tavern, you spy an arrangement of thugs and wildmen sheltered inside this small and modest inn, drinking countless tankards of ale as they are entertained by a few fleet-footed waitresses and a small band of nervous-looking musicians. Beads of sweat drip from the foreheads of the tavern servants, as their demanding patrons turn what would normally appear to be a peaceful inn into a tempest of fear and anxiety. There are over a dozen of these rowdy inn-goers - each wearing a dagger at their belt or resting a club on their table - and they do not seem to be enchanted with your presence.

"Oy! Who're you dare?" calls one brutish looking fellow. "We sid git back'n yer holes, ya daft bastards, lest ye got women ta bring us - or is it do ye want yer town burned to the ground?" He takes a look a Len, and steps forward - revealing he is quite a large fellow, easily over 6 feet tall. His long brown hair seems to be crawling with filth, his beard being no exception. But, his worst trait is, by far, his smell - as you are quite certain no man can exude such a scent unless he spends the better part of each day rolling in his own excrement. "Ah, so ye did bring us a lass, did ye?" He grins devlishly, revealing a set of rotting, yellow/brown teeth. "Come 'ere, little lady - I've got somethin' I'd like you to see."

Meanwhile, the barman and the waitresses gaze at the party, with occasional glances to the savage men - it's clear these "guests" are unwanted, but it is quite obvious that they are too intimidating for common villagers to deal with on their own.

Maximilian, who observes your surroundings, does not step between Len and the large man. Gritting his teeth, he speaks loud enough only for the party to hear: "Let's get out of here - now."

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@tamale

Well, four ranks is not a lot - you might be able to craft something, but you might not. Some weapons are simple to make, others...not so much. Exotic melee or thrown weapons are at DC 18, and your progress is determined by weeks of work. Spiked Chain should take a week (if check is successful), I believe.

You also have to pay a third of the base cost for raw materials. If you fail a check by 4 or less, you make no progress for the week. If you fail by 5 or more, you ruin half the raw materials and have to pay half the original raw material cost again.

I should the concept of the Spiked Chain as a weapon is foreign to most people in Medici (as exotic weapons should be in), but I did note a mixing of cultures, so it's plausible to find one for sale, too.

@ everybody