The Most Merciful Thing (Game Thread)

[Terraspaz]

The stranger boasts a short, curly beard, which offers only the slightest contrast against his dark skin.

[Ascension]

"I don't like the looks of this... and we were warned this area is dangerous."

Grug strings up his composite longbow. It is far from his favorite weapon, but range will be of the essence here. He'll get ready to fire as soon as the target comes within bowshot and he will keep firing until the rider closes to within forty feet.

[lostsole31]

Rolling a Spot check ...

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(1d20+10)[24]

The mounted warrior was moving at a fast trot, as if to intercept - though making his intentions unknown. Upon seeing a bow trained on him from the massively muscled orc, the warrior slows. The lance he was holding in an easy, raised position is now crossed over his left shield arm perpendicular to his line of travel ... making it appear that it would take some effort to get it back into a "battleready" position.

Unless hostilities at such a great range are started ...

The mounted warrior stops about 75 yards away from the party (225'). He (slowly, non-threateningly) raises his lance and spreads his shield outward, and shouts something to the party. In the lower alpine meadow, sound carries (relatively, he's still a distance away) easily, and anyone who makes a DC 10 Listen check hears him shout in a firm and strong voice:

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"Peace be to those who respect the land! My apathy to those who do not. My shaft through those who would defile it!"

Even from this distance, however, detail is not necessary to see that this is far from a knight-errant of a chivalrous domain. A dark, pointed, curly beard juts out from underneath a full-helmet that only shows the mouth and chin. The helmet itself appears to be the head of some manner of ferocious yet colorful great cat which he wears around his own head.

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Knowledge (Nature DC 14) to recognize the likeness of this "helm" as a tiger, a very powerful solitary predator, and one of the largest non-dire great cats.

He wears a suit of armor that covers him as fully as any metal plate armor, but at this distance it is as if he is wrapped within a tree. The inside part of his shield (when he waved it with his shield arm showing) is a deep, black wood, but the shield itself is colored in a patterning and design that none of you have likely ever seen before. A pattern on the shield is repeated on the breastplate of his armor ...

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If your PC can has both of the following ... Spot DC 20 to be able to see the required detail on the shield or breastplate, followed by a Knowledge (religion) DC 15 ... success reveals that - while there appears to be additional patterning on the shield - this warrior must be a worshipper of the goddess Lyris, a neutral deity of fate and victory.

The lance he carries looks impressive and daunting even from this distance. The horse he rides is a light warhorse, a destrier of some sort, that is colored a very dark brown with black main and fetlocks, but otherwise is not a breed of horse from this area. The destrier is wearing studded leather barding.

The warrior, who himself appears to be a squat fireplug of a man (a little short and very stout) readies his shield again, and raises his lance back into a 'rest' position and sits atop his horse, seemingly awaiting some manner of reply or response.

[knewsom]

Remus squinted at the rider and chuckled at Grug.

"What are you so worried about? What's he going to do to us? I could cut his HORSE in half."

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spot check: (1d20+6)[7]

[RebelRogue]

Will moves behind his larger teammates to hide. Looking out behind Grug, he whispers He has some peculiar patterns in his shield and breastplate, but I have no idea what they mean.

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Checking Will's impression of the man's intentions: Sense Motive (1d20+2)[18]

[Ascension]

"It could be a trap... but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to let him get a little closer."

Grug lowers his bow, though he keeps it at the ready, just in case.

[Terraspaz]

Remus

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Yep. There's a guy on a horse there.

[lostsole31]

With the orc lowering the bow, the rider advances at a moderate walk (not trot) to a distance of 30 feet from the party (unless halted earlier), and then holds his position.

The man ...

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His hands and his chin (his neck is covered by a bevor) are all that are visible of his body, the rest covered in armor. His skin is a deep, dark brown - almost black, though his palms are more of a beige color. Hopefully, the rumors of a human race that turned from the path of light and grew dark in the process - an allegory mirrored in the more famous stories of the elves and the drow - are just that, rumor. Looking at a hunting cat's face and eyes is disconcerting. What doesn't help the rumors being closer to reality is that one might notice that his hands sport very thick, sharp-looking claws.

The armor ...

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He wears an extremely well-crafted, armored suit of . . . . wood? Every plate, link, joint, and stud are made of some manner of medium-hued wood. It appears to be just as fully-encompassing as any knight's suit of full plate armor. The religious symbol is now easily visible to those that did not see it before. The armor is outfitted with riding straps with quick release knots to help stabilize his balance when riding.

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Lyris is not one of the "common" gods - DC 12 normally to ID - and this particular variation of the holy symbol is a more naturalistic sect, so DC 15.

Weapons ...

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His lance is obviously very well-made, though made of a mahogany-type wood and containing a wicked, tri-cross section wedged point of steel.
A warhammer, adorned with all manner of etchings (including the same symbol found on his armor and shield, with various abstract and natural motifs) hangs from his right side.
A composite shortbow lies strapped to his saddlebags. The center grip is made of a medium slate gray leather with large wrinkle patterns, and both extensions of the bow are a strange, spiral type of horn. [K (Nature) DC 13 will identify it as gazelle horn.] Fully three quivers hang from the saddlebags. Each quiver has different fletching on its set of arrows.

The horse ...

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From the time he stepped forward to greet you, through his walk to you, and to the means by which he stopped, not a single command was given by the rider. In fact, the cavalier did not even appear to shift his knees, verbalize, or give any other command.

The horse, beyond what has been mentioned before, seems to be a particularly hardy specimen of light warhorse. The studded leather is that only in name. It is a thick, gray-wrinkled leather that is "studded" with all manner of attractive metal adornments and small chains. The horse's under-blanket also is very decorative. There is no doubt that this man comes from a culture wherein the horse is treated as more of a devoted companion than trained beast.

He takes the thumb of his lance-hand and raises his tiger-helm to reveal his face ...

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His hair - when you end up seeing it, is black as pitch, short, and comprised of extremely tight curls - probably tighter than any of you have ever seen.
At first, one might have thought his chin to be painted to complete the fearsome visage of the hunting-cat helm. You are taken aback to see that his entire face is nearly black in color. His beard is cut relatively close to his face, except where it extends to a point at his chin, and comprised of the same extremely tight curls as his head hair.

What really gets you are his eyes. It is not the color . . . you have all probably seen "black" eyes before where a brown iris is so dark it appears black. No, it is a quality of ferocity that makes one wonder: Is this a man that has descended into beasthood yet mocks a knight of the realm in form? or a beast given semblance of man?

One thing is certain ... he is Nature's answer to the heavy, slow, oafish, ironmongery of more civilized chevaliers.

In a display of skill (and to show respect to you that you might be worthy of it) he sidesteps the horse and then piaffes effortlessly. (A piaffe is when the horse spins in a circle with a center axis at the midpoint of its body.)

"I am Kioi (KEE-OY, no accent) of the Tsimehetiy Tribe!" he shouts. "I travel far to investigate the fiery mountain and determine whether the source be foul or fair."

He looks curiously at the orc, then at Remus. "This path leads to the mountain, and little else. You and your wife appear hale, hearty, and well-equipped, but this is may be a poor place to take your son and daughter there."

This last he says, acknowledging Lily and Will, though he seems curious as in his ride forward he has lost track of the "young boy."

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Will didn't roll a Hide check, and Kioi saw that he went behind Remus, but just in case his statement to Hide requires a Spot roll...(1d20+10)[12]

[knewsom]

The massive warrior's face twisted in confusion for a brief moment, before his thick black sideburns turned upward in a smiling chuckle that seemed to rumble deeply from the mountain itself.

"Wife...? I think he means you, Grug! Wife! Hah Hah, ohh, heh... well met Kioi, we too are here to investigate the mountain. I am Remus, son of Rutger... Grug here is - thankfully - not my wife, but an Orcish Bard of renowned skill. These are not my children - thankfully - but only one of them is a child, and she decided to accompany us despite any warnings. The other... is a halfling."

[lostsole31]

Kioi looks at Grug with an amused laugh and chuckles, building to a laugh, building to a full laugh (laughs where "..." appear in following, with trouble keeping breath, with tears building): "You .... you ..... you thought ... you thought I meant the orc?" He guffaws at this point, barely keeping balance on his saddle, and he proves that even a man with so dark a face can turn a peculiar shade of red.

"No, no, .... no .... no .... .... .... .... ... I meant the beautiful, armored lady ... that is your traveling companion! HAHAHAAHAHAAHA!!" He nods, as best as his laughing-spastic body will allow, at Nis'Amain. [She is there, isn't she?]

He dismounts, rests his lance on the ground by his horse. "Rest easy, Ihsan." He says quietly to his steed, and advances with open hand, trying to keep his claws from seeming to threatening.

"Well met, indeed, Remus, son of Rutger. And you, Mrs. Remus," he says, chuckling to Grug. "Not a wife, yet, eh? Well, I hope you won't make this fine man wait too long!"

As he speaks this last line, he stops his approach and his voice goes up high as he is fighting with breath to get that line out and that practically breaks down, holding his side with his right hand he is hurting so much. Unless something dramatic happens, he will probably laugh for two minutes easily.

[RebelRogue]

What is this? A visit to Brobdingnag?, Will sarcastically thinks to himself after the introduction of yet another gigantic travel companion! Still, the joke about the orc being married to the fighter manages to make him chuckle along with Kioi. Well, appearantly he's friendly enough, despite his strange looks. And he seems to share our goals. Another helping hand sure would be useful if things got rough... With this reassuring though, Will steps sideways to reveal himself fully, still smiling.

[Ascension]

Grug raises his bow again.

"I don't know who's more to blame... You," he turns to Kioi, "for mentioning the rest of our band but omitting me, you," he turns to Remus, "for thinking, because of his omission, that he was describing me as your wife, or you again," he turns back to Kioi, "for finding his error so amusing. As it stands I will blame neither of you for the gaffe... this time," he fires his arrow into the ground between the two men, "but I advise you both not to bring my manhood into question again."

As he is unstringing his bow, he addresses Kioi again, "Your presence cheers me, though. It was heartening when the last village we stayed in welcomed me without fear despite the color of my skin. If they also ignore the color of yours, then perhaps humanity is finally learning to come to terms with its neighbors. Well met, Kioi of the Tsimehetiy Tribe, I am Grug, called the Fair-Haired."

[lostsole31]

"I would never question the prowess of one so thick-limbed, my fair-haired friend, and well met to you, too, Grug." Kioi thinks of mentioning the irony that Grug, not even half-human, should worry about his "man"-hood being questioned, but thinks the better of it.

Kioi himself appears, based on the squatness of his build, to be powerful of sinew himself, but stands at a modest-to-small (for a human) 5'8".

Kioi looks at the halfling, "Halfling, hmm? I have heard of a tribe, known as the Hin but called halflings by civilized men, which ride great lizards. But you don't strike me as one of them ... too many clothes. I meant no disrespect ... ??" Here Kioi pauses for a name.

[RebelRogue]

William. Though most people just call me Will., the halfling responds. He takes a second to recall some of the tall tales his family told when he was a kid. I recall a few childhood stories about half-naked halflings riding wild beasts, but I honestly thought they were just that: stories. My family dresses pretty much like me, and the few that rides anything choose dogs as mounts.

[lostsole31]

"I am honored to meet you, Will," says Kioi. "I am not so limited and arrogant in my views of another's innate strengths and weaknesses - like so many of the knights of the northern kingdoms here - to believe that you are useless on the battlefield. I haven't yet met my equal in mounted combat, though I feel that of all here - with my limited knowledge of your abilities - that I would rightfully fear you more than Remus or Grug."

Kioi quickly looks to Remus and Grug, "Mind you, this is in no way to diminish your strength or prowess . . . for surely looking at your broadly muscled frames I can match neither of you for strength. Still, there is an adage from my home that says, 'Beware the unseen blade.' And you, Will, are small enough that you look like you would excel in that capacity.

"No, be these women witch or healers, were I to find myself opposing you in arms, I would be wary of all of you - respectful of my fellow warriors, especially - but you would be the one which most would make me nervous. How do you fight that which you cannot see?"

[AetherFox]

Nis'Amain watches the stranger as he moves closer to the party, eying him more out of curiosity than suspicion. When Kioi makes the crack about a wife, Nis' rolls her eyes, watching them laugh.
Regardless, she extends her hand to Kioi and says, "Nis'Amain, healer of Pelor. Pleased to meet you."
She sees the holy symbol on his armor and says, "Lyris? You must have seen much time in battle..."

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Knowledge religion (1d20+7)[16]

[lostsole31]

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Untrained K (Religion) check, DC 10 for the most basic Pelorian biz since he's so common ... (1d20+1)[10]

"Pelor, he's the healing god of the northern lands, isn't he? If so, a healer of the healing god must be a powerful healer indeed. Peace to you, Nis'Amain," he says, taking her hand ...

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Incidentally, Nis, you are the first one to actually seek hand contact with him. His claws indeed look fantastically thick, though he is not clumsy with them. What gets you is the thickness of his hands. They possess a grace that belies a furious strength, and the skin itself seems to be particularly tough and hardy.

... "the plumage of the bird of paradise from the southern parts of my lands is considered by many to be the loveliest in the world; but such plumage is muted and dull compared to your own gifts." At that he kisses her hand. "We men are blessed to travel with beauty, to remind us that not all in nature and civilization is ugly and violent. That even gentility has its proper place of accord and respect."

"It so happens," he continues, looking to the party, "that I, too, have some gifts of healing upon which I may call to aid others, but particularly myself. However, my divine gifts seem best used as my philosophy is laid bare: change. All of nature seeks change, even if that change is a predictable cycle. So, too, do I best use those magics which change the nature of things while within certain reasonable bounds."

Looking back at Nis'Amain he says, "We shall talk more of our gifts, that we may better complement each other in our place together should our paths continue 'ere long. As for battle, yes, I have seen some battle. But most of my trials have been in personal quests that have taken me far from home to this area as if by omen after omen.

"You see, I am not unlike what you call a 'druid' in this land, though with far greater skill at arms. And as the son of the mai of my tribe, I have been transformed to greater facilitate the protection of this world from the ravages of the next - which is a vast difference between your druids, which seek to focus only on the strength of the land itself - and our witch-warriors, which focus on using the strength of the land to guard against undue inflluence from the various worlds Beyond. This, especially has been the task of my tribe since the beginning"

"And so it is that through many ventures I am brought here, to investigate whether this fantastic phenomenon is a coalescing of the world's strength at this point, or if it is an evil influence that will poison the land."

[knewsom]

Still chuckling, the thick warrior clapped the Orc bard on the back.

"Oh come now Grug, it was only a joke. ...though I don't know what's funnier, the notion of Grug and I being married, or the notion of Nis and I being married! Haha!"

[Ascension]

"I suppose it is amusing in a way. It's hard to imagine any woman putting up with you long enough to wed you," Grug replies. His voice is gruff, but he's grinning.

[lostsole31]

Kioi smiles broadly, showing surprisingly white teeth that have only the slightest hint of ever-so-slightly longer canines ... not long enough to be used as a weapon, or even look non-human, but just enough to be noticeable.

"Come, my new friends. If we travel together to learn of this mountian, let us share water and bind our hearts to our comradeship." At that, he takes out his water skin, which is covered in a curious black-and-white striped pattern, and sips from it. When he is done, he hands it to Remus.

[Terraspaz]

The six of you share a hearty laugh discussing the possibilities of whom is wed to whom, what the resulting children would look like, and what the names of said children might be. The notion of a Fair-Haired savannah tribal warrior occurs to some of you, but for reasons of shock, are quickly forgotten. Welcoming Kioi into the group, the six of you journey onwards toward the mountain, now only a few hours away.

The weather betrays gray skies, indicitive of rain, an uncommon yet welcome experience in this region of the world. Drifting along the now increasing winds, a single bird circles overhead, soaring high in the air, likely in search of food. The As the sun begins to descend, its light - already dimmed by the clouds, begins to fade from the landscape. As the surroundings darken, you begin to see the glow of the mountain manifest ahead of you. As bright as ever, the bright glow bears such presence that it seems to blot out all other landmarks you perceive, save one.

Cresting the next hill from you, you see another horse-mounted figure. With a backpack loaded to the brim with books and parchments, you see a familiar figure trotting towards the mountain, fully intent on the glow ahead. It is abudantly clear he does not notice you.

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Except for Kioi, you all recognize this figure as Johnathon

[Shhhh!]

Jonathan Crowley
Jonathan continues to guide his horse in a plodding manner, Stopping once to withdraw a scroll and glance at it, he forges onward, muttering to himself
Contemptible "Atlas" doesn't even show this blasted mountain!
Letting out a near silent sigh, he continues on.

[Ascension]

Grug laughs heartily.

"What did I tell you? You learn more from people than books. What an 'atlas' doesn't tell you, a man will. So. Are you desperate enough to ask for directions?"

[lostsole31]

"Who is this man, who sits poorly on a horse with a the world poorly figured in his hands, Grug?"

[Ascension]

"Jonathan... something or another. I thought he stayed back at the temple with his books! But maybe he's learned to look beyond the library after all..."

[lostsole31]

"Jonathon, is it? I am Kioi of the Tsimihetiy tribe. Peace to you, my friend ... for if a friend of these folk here as newly I am, then so are you to me."
[Shhhh!: Check out previous posts for all the fluff on descriptions.]

"What is it that you do?"

[Shhhh!]

Jonathan Crowley
Jonathan, His attention suddenly drawn to the stranger in the midst of the group, eyes him carefully, taking note of his equipment first and foremost.

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Religion, For the goddess, and a separate roll to gather that druids vow not to wear metal
Goddess(1D20+15)[28]
Druid info[Roll]1D20+15[/roll]
And because I'm me, I"ll assume I've passed them

A Lyrian Knight? And seemingly a druid, or something similar...Perhaps not, Balance seekers seem unlikely to worship a goddess of fate. I am Jonathan Crowley. I am a Seeker of Knowledge, and a Sharer of the same, and though I am most certainly Not a friend of any of these buffoons, I am, for now, their ally, and, seemingly by extension, yours.
He now dismounts from his horse, walking to it's rear right leg, and bending over to remove a small anklet. Upon it's removal, the horse begins trotting away. Turning to address his companions, he announces
I have narrowed the possibilities regarding our mysterious tome by quite a bit...There are only three books known to give of negative energy, The Book of Withering, The Book of True Power, and The Book of Anguish and Suffering. The first draws life from near anything the user wishes, the second draws power from the readers soul, corrupting them, and providing them with a far greater control over spells of the Evoker's school. The third...The third would help no-one, I doubt that it was the target. And now, would one of you kindly explain the glowing of this mountain?
He gestures here to the imposing heights that, unbeknown to him, you are traveling towards.

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I'm sure you've picked it up, but Jonathan is quite wordy. These things happen

[Ascension]

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Wordy and a jerk.

I recommend you don't have Kioi try detecting evil around our party, lostsole.

Or, heck, go ahead and do it. I'm CN, so I'm sort of safe, and it might be fun to watch you Smite Jonathan.

"It's a local phenomenon. Mountain grants special powers to the village youths in a coming of age ceremony, then glows afterward. Problem is, the last time a kid went out there, he never came back, the mountain glowed brighter than it usually does, and monsters have foiled any attempts to investigate further. I suspect there's a small chance the temple killers might be involved. Might be part of some sort of attempt to claim the mountain's magical power for themselves. Or might be completely unrelated. But I feel we should at least investigate."

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And I'm slightly wordy because I'm a bard. It's part of the job description.

[Shhhh!]

Jonathan Crowley
Jonathan, lost in thought, gazes at the mountain, only to begin speaking in a roundabout, distracted manner, almost as if he's speaking to himself
Really?...What kind of powers? What kind of monsters? And this is the important part...What is the mountain's mythology? I've never once come across an unnatural phenomena that wasn't distorted by local flavour...never. Why do they come here?
His voice here gains confidence, and volume, directed primarily at the orc.
Tell me then, have you learned anything at all regarding the mountain itself? Or simply that it recently began devouring it's supplicants? You said monsters had barred investigation...What kind? Surely you at least have a description? Oh...One more thing...Did the mountain glow after the children finished their ceremony? Or did the children finish their ceremony as the mountain glowed? If this is related to, say, the phases of the moon, or some planetary alignment...These monsters may well be far more dangerous than you seem to have assumed, because we could very well now be standing in it's hunting grounds...as night falls.

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So...Anyone noticed, IC, the bird? It seems rather unlikely that there is a constant supply of individual birds floating the currents following us

[Ascension]

"As I said, the trip up the mountain is their traditional rite of passage from boyhood to manhood. Usually the changes are minor. But sometimes they are granted very powerful gifts... powers like unto those of a trained wizard. This doesn't entirely surprise me... there are magics in the blood as well as in the book... but what is surprising is the speed with which they develop these abilities... over the course of a single night. It took me months even to learn to command this."

Grug snaps his fingers and a flame dances at the tip of his thumb for a moment.

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Prestidigitation.

"The mountain begins glowing in welcome as the child travels toward it. The rhythms of the mountain seem to be its own, not based on the moon or other forces, though I cannot be certain from what description I was given. As for the beasts, they're four-legged, fur-covered things with powerful teeth and claws. There were two varieties, a larger brown-furred type alongside smaller black-furred creatures. There were at least six of them. I suspect lycanthropy may be at fault, or perhaps the boy who was lost to the mountain gained the ability to summon those beasts from some world beyond, but Ben Columb was quite certain that the creatures could not be directly linked to his boy..."