Flight of the Iron Star

[GimliFett]

Tryx

Tryx briefly hops around and does a jig. "I'm da winnah!"

[TheCountAlucard]

Jirin makes his way back up the stairs, carrying a sword in his bandaged hands. What might've been a mangled attempt at a chuckle escaped from inside Jirin's hood.

*Riddles, eh? I've got one for you... an adventurer such as yourselves decides to infiltrate a temple of cultists. He hides by the entrance and watches.
*A man comes to the door, and from inside comes a shout, 'Twelve!' He says 'Six!' and is let in.
*A second man comes. 'Six!' 'Three!' and he enters.
*The adventurer approaches the door. 'Ten!' 'Five!' he says, and is killed on the spot.
*What should he have said?*

He sets the fine blade down on a crate and turns to the goblin.

[Stycotl]

Eroxon chuckles as Tryx solves the last one. Then he sees Jirin return and looks curiously to the blade.

[TheCountAlucard]

The elegant rapier glows with a soft light as it rests upon the crate. Its blade is of a silvery color, and the guard is of gleaming gold. The grip is made of sharkskin, and a fine obsidian orb is clutched in the pommel of the sword.

[Tar Palantir]

Calamar

Calamar listens with interest at the riddle game. Cordrir, his younger brother and modestly capable sorcerer, had always been fascinated by riddles, but Calamar never could puzzle his way around them. He was si,ply too grounded in the here and now to work them out. He carefully examined the fine blade that Jirin presented, quite a piece of work, if not to his taste. He always favored heavier blades over the lighter rapiers and short swords. He said, "That's a marvelous blade. Might I ask the name of the craftsmen behind such a beauty?"

[Stycotl]

"Cursed?" Erox looks up from the blade to Jirin's face, unease settling on his features, colored by the natural superstition of his people.

[TheCountAlucard]

The deformed shopkeeper makes a wheezing sound as he nods softly. Jirin points to the rapier with a long, bandaged finger.

[Stycotl]

"How could one know for sure?" Eroxon asks, still eyeing the blade suspiciously.

[GimliFett]

Tryx

The goblin had been chewing mightily on Jirin's riddle. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he shouts: "T'REE, MON!" as he holds up three fingers triumphantly.

OOC: Just occurred to me! Der. I knew I knew the answer!

[Storm Bringer]

"Oh really? Elaborate, please." Fae said, guestureing to the goblin to continue.

[GimliFett]

Tryx

Grinning, Tryx nods and holds up both hands, wiggling the fingers. "De first wahn be 'twelve'. Reply be 'six'. Letters in de word, mon. Next be 'six' and 't'ree'. So, 'ten' is also 't'ree'!"

[Storm Bringer]

"ah......" Fae said in the tones of the enlightened. "brilliant, my shamanic companion. Now, to busieness. I belive you mentioned you might have a job for us, Jirin?" the Druid turned to the shopkeeper.

[TheCountAlucard]

Jirin laughs his strange laugh again and nods. He bows to the goblin, and then picks up the sword carefully.

*As I've already informed some of you, this blade is cursed. Several of those who have sought to use it have died. Its curse only seems to activate when it strikes a particularly effective blow.*

[GimliFett]

Tryx

The goblin beams at Jirin's praise, but his grin shifts into a puzzled look. "T'anks, mon! Now, ya say de curse activates when it succeeds best? D'at be strange, mon."

[Storm Bringer]

Fae spoke a short rhyme in Sylvan, then switched to common to translate "To understand an thing, you must know the Maker." Fae shrugged. "To make a blade whoose curse only undermines you at your point of greatest sucess is equally as logical as to make a blade that is cursed At all. If it's trigger in irregular, then compensating for it is difficult, thus making it more likey that someone will be caught by the curse, which is the whole point of a Cursed weapon"

Fa looked at the blade Am I to assume that our quest is to remove the curse on this sword?"

[GimliFett]

Tryx

Tryx stares at Fae as she rambles through her circular logic, his previously puzzled expression worsening to one of complete befuddlement.

[Storm Bringer]

"So, you're copper dragon taught you lots of riddles, but did nothing on philosophy?" fae asked.

[GimliFett]

Tryx

"D'at's mo' Brass or Bronze, mon. Philosophy be booorin'!"

[Stycotl]

Erox shies away from the group at Fae's mention of uncursing a cursed sword. "I don't think that I shall go anywhere near it."

[Storm Bringer]

"Indeed. The Elder druids, however, are fond of it."Fae said with feeling. "One cannot get very far in my profession without being exposed to a lot of pondering on the nature of things." the druid waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Anyway, the point i was trying to make is that Form of a Curse doesn't need to make sense to an outside observer. All a curse needs to do is activate when given critera are met. Now, maybe the person who placed the curse on the blade found that it was easier to make it the way it is now than any other way, or maybe he had a more complex reason.

Whatever that was, it made sense to him. It i doesn't follow that it makes sense to us. follow?"

[Stycotl]

The poison dusk lizardfolk listens to Fae's druidic knowledge with dubious discomfort (can i get extra points for alliteration?), and then looks back to Jirin, "Where did you acquire that cursed blade from?"

ooc-erox is as subtley, but thoroughly studying both jirin and the sword, trying to make his perusal appear to be merely fearful fascination. in fact though, he is looking for distinguishing marks on the weapon, its alloy or composition if at all possible, and trying to find anything visible among jirin's bandages that might speak of his race (since i don't think that has been established yet), or anything else that i might recognize.

[GimliFett]

OOC: Stycotl, I'd have given you bonus points if you'd used dissertation instead of knowledge.

[TheCountAlucard]

Jirin looked from one adventurer to another. *I found the sword in one of my crates the other day.* He held the sword in one hand, gesturing with the other to the stairs leading down. *The crate was supposed to have a few bottles of wine in it, but when I opened it, all I found was this sword. I was a bit suspicious, of course, so I asked some questions around town, and that's how I found out its previous owners have died.*

[GimliFett]

Tryx

The goblin looks a little perplexed. "Dead? Well, d'at's...no good!"

[Stycotl]

(OOC: Okay, Stycotl, can I get a few skill checks on the OOC thread to represent that?)

Jirin looked from one adventurer to another as he held the sword in one hand, gesturing with the other to the stairs leading down.

ooc-my bad. didn't even think of that. i've been running around like a head with my chicken cut--wait... forthcoming.

Erox looks to the stairs that Jirin is gesturing at, half expecting to see something else cursed.

[Stycotl]

"So did you find out how the other owners died?"

[TheCountAlucard]

Jirin nods. *From what I heard, their life was drained out of them.* He shudders and wrings his hands.

[GimliFett]

Tryx

Tryx arches an eyebrow beneath his dreadlocks. "Drained?!" he exclaims. "D'is gets worse 'n worse, mon!" he mutters. "So, wotcha wannus ta do, mon?"

[Stycotl]

Erox nods in agreement with Tryx's assessment of the situation and lets a tiny hiss escape his reptilian maw.

[TheCountAlucard]

Jirin looks at the group. *I was hoping a group of seasoned adventurers such as yourselves might be able to lift the curse from the blade without damaging it. I'd be willing to pay you for your efforts.*