The Flowery War [Invite Only]

[MoxexPenNama]

[The Story Thus Far. . .
Three Vulture, decadent Great Speaker of the Land Between the Waters, hired your mercenary selves to track down the bandit Tecuani's encampment and reconnoiter there with another spy, Eight House. Brendan was a young merchant, Alex was a Sioux-type barbarian, and Brian was a thief and general scum. You traveled south for several days before coming to a jungle region wherein lay the plateau upon which Tecuani had pitched his camp. You kept hearing rumors about Tecuani the whole way there, learning that he had been kept in Three Vulture's zoo because he had the ability to take the form of a jaguar. The only way up to the encampment was through a network of ruins filled with traps, riddles, and monsters. At one point in your trip through said ruins, you came across a portal that led down into a strange, watery realm filled with ghosts. Finding a group of ghosts playing ball with a human head, wearing a mask, you removed the mask at the head's fervent request. At that, all the ghosts began to scream, and a great, tentacled demon chased you back to daylight. Upon finally making it out of the ruins, Tecuani greeted you by asking if you'd come to see Eight House, and pointing to where the ex-spy's head sat on a skullrack. At that point, you all leveled with Tecuani that you had, in fact, come at Three Vulture's request and agreed to serve him instead.]

Tecuani rises, grimacing. The black paint on his face makes it look more like a mask than flesh. As his long cloak parts, you see the deep scars on his legs and a sash decorated with dried, mummified faces above his loincloth. In his eyes you see a look almost inhuman in its ferocity. It takes you a moment to realize the man himself can't be more than thirty.
"So you'll serve me? Anybody would, with a knife held to his throat. We no longer live in an age when men welcome the flowery death. That you made it through the ruins bespeaks a certain bravery on your parts, but still. . ."
He pauses, turning to his guards and priests.
"If you mean to serve me, if your change of heart is for the sake of your souls and not your hides, then I'll need you to prove it. If you still serve Three Vulture and wish a holy death, I'll provide that as well. And if, at the last, you're merely mercenaries caught in a war too big for you, I'll let you leave. But speak honestly to me, for if you mean to tell me falsehoods and keep spying, then you've already been found out."
What do you do?

[S.K.U.M.M.]

"You seem to consider 'mercenary' a bad term. I'm willing to work with you, as long as I'm able to legally end my contract with Three Vulture, and, of course, as long as you are willing to pay me more than Three Vulture did."

I wrack my brain to discover if Tecuani has any underground connections that I can exploit or blackmail.

Knowledge: Streetwise (d20+9)[6](15)

[BDEYE]

"I came here to do a boon for a friend of my family. I'm not sure how aligning with you will do my soul any good."

[MoxexPenNama]

Tecuani smiles at Xicotencatl's words.

"I don't consider 'mercenary' a dirty word. Our people had their start as mercenaries. Nor do I consider 'spy' a dirty word. If I'm right, Three Vulture sent you here to reconnoiter with Eight House. You've been found out, Xicotencatl. Because I see you're a man of talent, I'm offering you a bargain.
With me you will get food, equipment, and anything you can loot. Should you prove yourself loyal and capable, there may be further rewards. If you wish to work for me, you can. If you wish to die honorably, as a warrior, you can. If you just wish to go your way, you can. If you try to bargain and look askance at my generosity, I can have you strangled like a common thief and thrown to the coyotes."

[You can't really think of anything blackmail-worthy about Tecuani. He was kept in a cage for several years by Three Vulture because he had two souls, one of which allowed him to change into a jaguar. After that, he fled and became a bandit and mercenary, eventually attaining the rank of Jaguar Knight. After a time, he began gathering disheartened soldiers to him and declared himself in revolt against Three Vulture. He has a reputation for being canny, fierce, and completely merciless.]

[MoxexPenNama]

Tecuani shrugs.
"A man's soul is best served in battle, Mizton. Follow me and your soul will be well-served. If Three Vulture is such a great friend of your family, then why did he have to pay you to come find me? And why did he send you, knowing that all his other spies had been found out? He sent you because you were nothing to him, Mizton. He keeps his warriors, captains and generals close to him. He cares nothing for the lives of mercenaries, merchants and foreigners."
Tecuani looks at each of you in turn as he says that.
"He kept me five years in a cage, threw me bits of meat every time it rained. Chattered to me when I was a man about his insipid loves and rivalries. I was a beast to him, and you're all slaves."

[S.K.U.M.M.]

Xicotencatl pipes in, apparently not listening to Tecuani's speech at all:
"Still, there are legal ramifications for breaking my contract with Three Vulture. If you can help me get out of these problems I'm all yours."

[MoxexPenNama]

"Legal ramifications? Yes, that's true. If Three Vulture's laws hold sway over the Land Between the Waters, there are. But to the west, the Fish People make war against him. The Jaguar People grow restive in the south and the Dog Men sweep down from the north, raiding and destroying. The gods used to fill themselves with the blood of men, but under Three Vulture, they are given dollops and trickles. If they grow weak, the star demons will overwhelm them and destroy us. Now tell me--how powerful is Three Vulture's law? Would any fit Speaker allow such rebellion and neglect in the Empire?"
He sits back down on his dais, picking up a bowl of octli.
"What just law makes capable warriors like yourselves the errand boys and servants of a fat coward like Three Vulture? Were I Speaker, my laws would be different."

[BDEYE]

"How would they be different?"

[MoxexPenNama]

"Were I Speaker," says Tecuani. "I would favor men of skill and competence, not cousins and sons. I would favor courage, not send it to die needlessly on suicidal quests. I would conquer and reunite, not sit in luxury."

[souldoubt]

Having remained silent until now, Itzcuintli speaks up. "If we serve you and you replace Three Vulture, how do we know you will really rule as you say you will now?"

[MoxexPenNama]

"A fair question," says Tecuani. "I sat in a cage for five years. I had my time of indolence and luxury. But while other boys went off to the Flowery War and became men, I grew fat and stayed a boy. Why would I want to return to that?"

[BDEYE]

Mizton disappears into himself, and thinks.

"Good words," he finally says. "But still only words. What have you done? What would you have us do?"

[MoxexPenNama]

"I would have you choose. Were you lesser men, like Eight House, I would have had you killed. But I respect you. You carry yourselves as warriors, so I want you to choose: serve me as warriors, or die as warriors on the stone."

[S.K.U.M.M.]

"I can serve you as a warrior," says Xicotencatl. "I can also serve you as translator, or as a scout, or as a bounty hunter, or as a spy...There are many things I can do. I speak several languages."

(By the way, I want you all to realize that Xicotencatl resembles in visage and manerisms a Meso-American version of Steve Buscemi. Particulary, the lovable scumbag Steve Buscemi played in "Fargo.")

[MoxexPenNama]

"You may serve me in all those capacities before the end, Xicotencatl. And what about the rest of you?"


[Mesoamerican Steve Buscemihood duly noted.]

[BDEYE]

Mizton gently lowers his head.

"I will throw my lot in with you."

[souldoubt]

"I will fight for you," says Itzcuintli. "If I do not prove myself to be a loyal warrior on the battlefield of your choosing, then I ask only that you give me an honorable death by torture -- not a short-lived coward's death on the execution block."

[MoxexPenNama]

Tecuani nods, seemingly aware of the gravity of your decisions.
"Mizton, you merchants and I share a commitment to the same god, the great and ineffable Smoking Mirror. You have betrayed nobody by joining me. And Itzcuintli, should you wish it, I shall give you tortures to test the mettle of any warrior. In the meantime, you shall be shown to quarters where you may rest and given food."
Tecuani gestures with his hand and a small cohort of guards detaches from his escort and leads you through the collection of palapas roofed with palm fronds and mudbrick houses. The darkened camp seems to cover the whole plateau, and consists of people as diverse as yourselves. Jaguar People with slanted heads and ornate wooden helmets, Eagle People in cotton cloaks, mercenaries from the Anti Mountains with heavy, star-headed maces and bolos, Dog People bedecked in feathers and hides. . . .A patchwork crew of thieves, outcasts, misfits, vagabonds and camp followers brought together by the Gods only know what strange call. In rickety pens, turkeys preen themselves and plump, hairless dogs eat scraps of trash thrown to them. Whores wend their way among the shelters, tents and huts, advertising their bodies in a dozen different languages and dialects. The trees that haven't been cleared to build shelters and ramparts and skull racks drip the ubiquitous dew of the jungle, sheltering sullen-eyed, scarred men. The heavy smells of smoke and blood fill the encampment.
The guards stop at a small cabin built of mudbricks with a thatched roof.
"These are your quarters," says one of them, a young man of the Eagle People. "Tecuanitzin ordered food brought to you presently, revered sirs."
The guards depart, and in a short while a pair of middle-aged women approach you with bowls of atole, ears of corn, roast turkey and gourds of water. You sit and eat, realizing that whether you spoke sincerely to Tecuani or not, you're part of his band now. What do you do?

[S.K.U.M.M.]

Here's what I do:

I want to find out what the mask is and how much we can sell it for. I'm going to look for fences or anybody with knowledge of artifacts.

Specifically, I'm going to use Survival: City Rat background trait feature to do this. I get to make a Survival Check with a +2 bonus to try to find an informant in a settled area. The DC to find an informant is determined by the DM (the "Gather Information" stats would probably be most suitable because the Survival: City Rat background trait feature doesn't really specify how to look for dealers of information.

Survival: City Rat check: (d20+8)[4](12)

Or I'll just take 20.

[S.K.U.M.M.]

Oops. I forgot to add a +2 bonus to that; it should equal 14.

[souldoubt]

Just keep in mind that Itzcuintli is the one in possession of the mask.

[MoxexPenNama]

[If Itzcuintli agrees to give up the mask, finding a buyer for it shouldn't be too difficult in this camp, especially given the diversity of the market. In other words, you may take 20. Of course, whether Itzcuintli will want to give something up that nearly got you all torn limb from limb, I don't know.]

[BDEYE]

As he sees Xicotencatl start talking to people, he grows concerned.

"You're not seriously planning on selling that artifact, are you?"

[souldoubt]

[Since no one has mentioned anything to Itzcuintli about selling the mask, I'm going to assume that... well, no one's mentioned anything to him about selling the mask ]

Itzcuintli's brow lowers into a dangerous glower when he hears Mizton mention "selling" an "artifact." One hand strays to the mask secured firmly to his belt while his other hand hovers near the hilt of his war machete. "What are you talking about?"

[BDEYE]

Mizton shrugs.

"Talk to our mercenary friend. If you think giving it away for a few coins would be profoundly short-sighted, then I agree with you."

[S.K.U.M.M.]

Xicotencatl raises both hands above his head, "Just doing some research, that's all. Seeing how much the mask is worth. We don't need the money now, but you can never tell. I like to keep my options open." He seems to have no idea that his activities have caused any strife within the party.

[BDEYE]

Mizton glowers, and then wanders off into the jungle for a few hours.

((Picking up a Venom point))

[MoxexPenNama]

[Mizton: Most of the jungle here has been cleared away, so finding the kinds of herbs and animals you'd need to make proper poisons will be difficult. The only way back to the jungle would be to work your way back down through the ruins by which you got to the plateau in the first place.]

[BDEYE]

Mizton returns to the encampment sooner then he'd expected, frustrated, and no longer with any way of distracting himself from his predicament. He decides to make the best of it and seek out some food while he still has a chance.

[S.K.U.M.M.]

To Mizton:

[OOC: There is no specific rule that says you have to gather the raw materials for poisons from a wilderness area. You could simply wander around the camp and ask people for any unused cleaning solvents, rotting fruits, ect ect that you could make into Venom Points. So, unless you are locked in a jail cell, you can pretty much gather Venom Points in any environment. This is at least my interpretation of the rules]