Vagabond (Act1 IC2)

[Deepblue706]

The party storms through the front doors, back into the yard of the mansion and makes its way to the horses. The hooded figures slowly shift towards you as you run by, moaning as they brandish their scythes and pitchforks. Although you cannot see their faces beneath their shrouds, their eyes glow a fearsome deep purple, adding an eerie and unnatural illumination to the night.

Outmaneuvering your foes, you make it to your mounts, and secure both Flare and the Magistrate before climbing on, yourselves. Thankfully, Titus and Lucian manage to deal with any immediate threats swiftly, and do not have trouble keeping up with the rest of the party. You are able to urge your horses up quickly, and are off before the hordes of undead are upon you.

Riding back towards the forest, you find it hard to navigate. However, stopping to get your bearings does not seem wise, with the large mob not far from your rear. Titus takes the lead with his horse and brings you into the wood, holding forth a strange, blue lantern that makes your immediate surroundings visible.

The forest is dark and cold; a little less merciful than it had been nights before. Worse still, you have no sight of the path you came in on. However, with no longer having to hear the distant wailing of the undead, your mind is somewhat more at peace. Still, you cannot help but feel there is still danger nearby; as you've learned that there are countless predators that stalk uncivilized lands, especially at night.

A cold breeze blows in from the north, sending shivers down your spine. A nice, warm campfire would certainly be welcome, although there's no telling if stopping now would be safe, and in any case, you've rested enough to travel a few hours without sleep.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len bumps and jostles in the saddle as her horse lopes along. Arms firmly around the bony magistrate to anchor him in the saddle with her, she has taken protective custody of the sorcerer; Shimar's fascination with breaking his fingers is getting worrisome.

Her neck is sore from the steel draped over it. She pushes the hood of her chainmail off her head, ears throbbing when the breeze gnaws icily at them. A mountainous lump of coiled hair balancing atop her head nearly comes apart when she does this, but she jerkily catches it. You might think she'd let it come cascading luxuriously down in four feet of jet black glory, complete with a seductive headshake or two. You also might not know your ass from a warrior like her, who does not need four feet of jet black glory becoming involved in a fight. The bun stays.

...under the hood of the cloak.

Looking back, she realizes just how many ways people have devised to get around death; resurrection, raising, miracles, and the obvious example she just saw, undeath. Like many of natures secrets being revealed by science these days, death seems to have lost its mystery and resounding finality as bodies fail, only to be repaired just as easily. Somehow, it was seeing the ugly side of human revival, that a poorly preserved body could be revived just as easily into a shambling, rotting shell of a person forced to endure some mockery of life, that really made the issue so clear.

Knowledge is an alarmingly powerful thing, and if its pursuit means that people can create nightmarish things like zombies and betray the foundations of the human condition, then Len decides that it is not the key to perfection like some philosophe [sic] might like to think. They say that the modern perspective is like coming out of the cave of ignorance and basking in the wholesome glow of enlightenment, so enthralled by the latest achievement in some library that they ignore how little life has fundamentally changed; people still fight and kill over words, hoarding what belongs to the hungry to squander on nothing, and crowing at the latest group to fall out of public favor.

She wonders what future generations will learn and then inflict on each other.

[Deepblue706]

Drahlo, Len and Shimar all make note of scuttling about in the surrounding woods, although Titus takes no heed to it, never yielding his pace.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len pulls out her bow and forms up next to Drahlo. "What was that?"

Spot (1d20)[7]

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold Betruger finds himself in a reflective move as well, although his is decidedly a bit more glum than the Lady Len's.

Where had he gone wrong? The handsome minstrel sighs and runs his fingers through his sandy hair. His fingers are calloused from the strings of the instrument which these days seemed anything but instrumental in his life. Maybe it's because things were happening so fast. Harold sniffs. He hadn't gotten a chance to have his clothes cleaned in a while, and the glorious white of his shirt was now smudged with whatever dirt and grime had been on that basement's floor.

Where had he gone wrong? Wasn't his fault that a bunch of maniacs decided to stand up and fight the watch in the tavern. He might have gotten away scot-free on basis of evidence given, if that bloody bandit's mates hadn't slipped bribes to free them all. Now he was living out of someone else's pocket, and it was only a matter of time until the scarred, rough dirty fingers worked their way down to the last shiny copper at the bottom. He hadn't expected this much carnage, honestly. A few carefully chosen words, a wink, a nod, a little grease on the palms and maybe a short scuffle; that's what he'd thought this would amount to. But noooo...Actual shambling dead raised by the Magistrate, and already at least one death. And a nasty black eye on Harold's otherwise quite agreeable face.

His rapier clatters noisily against his hip as he goes along. He hated that weapon. He wasn't much good with it, really. Enough to keep someone worried, perhaps, but the reality was that for keeping himself alive in the face of implacable hostility...he needed allies like these people.
Like some of these people, he amended, mentally. And maybe that was the problem; Previously he'd always considered that if someone had the serious intention of doing him harm, then he was doing it wrong. With some of the hotheads he hung around with now, hostility was the preferred element, and the clash of steel more welcome than the wagging of tongues. Hmm.

As the skittering noise becomes apparent, Harold barely even looks up.
"What? Oh, I don't know. Probably those forest spirits playing silly buggers with us again. Either they'll let us through after toying with us after a while, or we'll simply die. There's no good in getting worked up about it, Lady Len."

[Proven_Paradox]

Drahlo rides on with regret on his mind. The shiny beads braided into his long, black hair reflects the light of the knight's lamp eerily. Though perhaps not as reflective as some of the others in the group, his mind lingers on the unfortunate souls still trapped in their long-dead bodies.

As he hears the scuttling about them, however, his mind snaps back to the present. He peers into the woods, his orcish heritage allowing him better vision in the dark than the others. He whispers, "The amulet the old woman gave us... who holds it now?"

Spot: (1d20+7=19)

[Deepblue706]

"I do." Lucian answers Drahlo from the rear of the group. He retrieves it from a pocket inside his vest, and holds it before him. "You think it works like she said it would?" He asks, with a little bit of doubt in his voice.

Drahlo sees nothing in the woods but the surrounding trees and undergrowth.

[amanodel]

Shimar

Unlike Len and Harlod, Shimar did not think too much about the connections between recent events, and their effect on the fate of mankind. There was some evil wizard that got beaten up badly. Also, there were some undead. Fun times, heh.

(Assuming Shimar was carrying Flare)

The slightly lifeless body of Flare was a bit disturbing to carry, though. For some reasons, Len wanted to carry the magistrate. Maybe she wants the have the chance to behead him, should he try to cast a spell. She can have the fun, if she wants.

The sounds from the forest did not frighten the barbarian, altough he kept an eye on the woods, just in case something happens.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

OOC: Now this is a work of art. (I only wish I could star in something this cool) [Warning: some cursing.]

Also, what is with Serenity RPG players and choosing Major Allure, Registered Companion, and then oh-so-classily naming this social elite something like 'Climaxia O'Face'?

Anyway!

IC:

"What? Oh, I don't know. Probably those forest spirits playing silly buggers with us again. Either they'll let us through after toying with us after a while, or we'll simply die. There's no good in getting worked up about it, Lady Len."

Len smirks. "Thanks. I feel safer already."

"You think it works like she said it would?" He asks, with a little bit of doubt in his voice.

"You went alone through that whole mansion with it and came out okay, didn't you? _{Well, mostly okay}."

Not much of a shot on horseback, Len shurgs and returns the bow to its place. She instead focuses on not losing the magistrate.

[Proven_Paradox]

As the amulet is offered to him, Drahlo shakes his head. "Keep it near you and stay close to us for now... The shamans of my homeland would sometimes bless trinkets like that to ward away danger. Maybe something similar there. We should keep it close to us."

[Deepblue706]

Lucian silently accepts Drahlo's answer, and clutches it tightly in his left hand. His right does not stray far from the hilt of the blade that was tucked into his belt.

Although you continue to hear the sounds of the forest, you do not encounter any monsters, faeries or demons. You make your way onward without encountering a single problem.

Not much further into the woods, Titus halts the group. "I think we ought to stop for the night. If I am headed to Valois without you, I will need to catch my bearings and head in the appropriate direction - sunlight would do me well for that. Those of you returning to Porto Giedion would prefer to travel during the day too, I would think; perhaps I will help you find the path in the morning." He looks about, awaiting opinions.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

"I dig." Len agrees, already climbing off the horse.

[amanodel]

Shimar

Still not really getting the point of not killing the magistrate as soon as possible, he remains quiet, ocassionally singing some songs in his mother tongue. He aids Len in any work which needs to be done.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len spends most of her time clearing out a firepit and then chopping wood. Her dormant competitive side gets the better of her when she is baited into a wood-chopping contest with the barbarian. In the end, she quickly admits defeat to the whirldwind of dreadlocks and axe before he can savage yet another innocent tree and offend Drahlo even further.

Minutes later, a stoked fire happily belches smoke in Len's face as she sinks back to her seat with a cough. She scoots back and forth, trying to find a happy medium between singing her eyebrows off actually feeling any warmth.

Making sure that she's safely out of reach of any sparks, Len flings out her bedroll and pulls her cloak over, shuffling and squirming until she produces her chainmail, holding it up momentarily like a successful angler before putting it aside.

She leans up on one elbow. "Well, Titus. I hope we did okay; I know you and Harold had a clash of styles, but he was trying harder than anyone to help in the best way he could.

Like I said, I think your hardest fight is going to be when you get to Valois and have to face the courts. Harold's job was to make sure you win by having an ironclad case to present.

Sir Titus, disrespecting the courts could mean losing your life and everything you've worked for. I know as well as anyone how malicious they can be with distorting all the meaning out of a law to achieve a goal, but please, just work with them. Make sure everything you say against Thaddeus has some basis in the law: right or wrong is irrelevant to them, all they deal with is legal and illegal.

Thaddeus will probably try to discredit you by making you lose your temper and seem like a murderer. Whatever he says, just answer it factually. The best thing you can do against Thaddeus is to lure him into giving the exact spiel he said earlier; he brings the dead to life, and puts them to work. If you can construe that as slavery and graverobbing, and add Jeremy's detention and its suspiscious circumstances, maybe you'll come out okay.
"

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold raises himself up on his elbows, a shocked expression on his face. He'd been lying against a stump relic of the Great Woodsman's War earlier that evening.
"Lady Len! I'm...impressed. Warrior and a diplomat...Were I wearing a hat, I would take it off to you." The minstrel offers a lazy salute instead, then continues,
"You'd do well to heed her counsel, Sir Tidus; It's just as she says. I do feel I owe you an apology for that bite you took in the castle. It's my nature to give people the benefit of a doubt, and to seek peaceful resolution to any conflict. It's more...elegant."

[Deepblue706]

Titus seems to heed the words of both Len and Harold carefully, as he sits not far from the open flame. "Thank you. Despite our differences, I am glad to have had your aid." He sighs. "But, don't worry about what I will have to do in Valois; rest assured, things will end well." He looks to Jeremy, who looks a bit out-of-place among the rest of the party. The thief had not dared travel away from the group, as he seemed to distrust the forest. "So, what now? You want me to come with you?" Titus nods. "Yeah, maybe I owe you that much. Hey, lady," He glances to Len. "If I'm helpin' this fella' in court, then I'm not gonna be able to hide what I came 'ere to do. Probably give me a light sentence, since I'd be turning myself in, and helpin' bringin' that bastard to justice." He looks to the magistrate, currently tied to a nearby tree. "I wanted to bring some gold back to my auntie, like I said before. She's sick at home, and the medicine is expensive. I won't be able to bring it to her - so I was hopin', maybe...you would." he then turns back to Titus. "With your lordship's permission, 'course."

He nods slowly.

Jeremy pulls a few gold coins from his vest, and holds them before her in his hand. "She lives in Balanli. It's south, along the Lete River - you know, the one that cuts through the forest further east? Can't be more than eight miles from the road. It's an easy-enough path to take..."

Len:

Spoiler

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Zardulox whispers, "'Medicine', eh? What a crock! I bet it's for black lotus. Don't do it."

As Jeremy pleads with Len, Titus claims a sack from his horse, and tosses it to Shimar. "That's half of the pay for you, Drahlo and Lucian. I don't have anything else on me - you'll have to see my friend Claudius for that. Just explain to him that this will free our debts completely."

Drahlo, Shimar:

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There's 150 platinum, 50 for each (equals 500gp) Drahlo, Shimar and Lucian. Just because he's not a PC anymore doesn't mean he doesn't want his pay! Although, I suppose you could always steal his portion...

[Proven_Paradox]

Drahlo nods to Titus. "Was never about the money, knight." He says that, but seems to have no qualms with accepting the reward. "I doubt the presence of one like me could help you in court... I wish you luck, but I think it best I remain out here. The ways of you northerners still puzzle me. If you need help cleansing that place when this is all done, I will aid you gladly."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len accepts the gold, deciding that whether it buys medicine or feeds an addiction is really none of her business. Furthermore, Titus has really let them off easy about their court attendance and undisclosed yet burdensome history; she isn't about to endanger that forbearance by being a hardass right in front of him.

"I'm too big of a softie for that..." Len tells the shuriken as she rolls over to sleep. One last thought crosses her mind.

"Zardulox...how old are you?"

[Deepblue706]

"Fi-...no, wait...more like s-...no, that's not right..." He hesitates a moment. "I can't remember. Why do ya ask, anyway?"

By this time, Titus has put away his things and lies in the comfort of his bedroll. Lucian, however, seems wide-awake. He volunteers to watch over the party until sunrise - which will likely only be one shift, anyway. He begins to pass time whittling a branch, humming a slow tune only Harold would recognize (well, maybe Len too).

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Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously...

[Ya Ta Hey!]

"Because I can't tell whether to picture you as a grumpy old man or a cynical young man." Len whispers, trying to lull herself to sleep.

"And if you never were a man at all, then you'll have to tell me where you got your title of lordhood sometime. G'night, big guy."

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold listens for a while as Lucian sings. He smiles.
"Not bad. But let me have a turn at that, and see if I can't send our comrades to slumber."
Harold carefully and almost reverentially takes out his mandolin and tunes it, clearing his throat. Then, accompanying his own voice with the mandolin, Harold begins his own rendition of the ballad.
Perform:Strings - (1d20+9)[28]
Perform:Sing - (1d20+9)[21]

[Deepblue706]

The night passes without incident.

In the morning, you rise to find Titus already prepared to leave, with the magistrate - still unconscious - on his horse. You notice a fresh bruise on his forehead.

"Good, you're finally up," he says as the first of you begin to climb out of your bedrolls. "I recommend heading out soon. I'll ride with you a while - but after a short distance, we'll have to walk different paths. You'll only need to follow this road east," he looks down at the thin stretch of the path (or, more like line-of-dirt) as it extends deeper into the woods. "I hadn't recognized it in the evening, but this is indeed the way we came. Just continue to follow it east, after we part."

When ready, you collect your things and make your way back. In less than an hour, Titus finds his separate path, and takes with him both Jeremy and the magistrate. Your party becomes five once more - or six if you include the still-paralyzed Flare. His eyes are closed but he continues to breathe. Whatever happened to him, it would have taken high magic to put him in such a state, and for so long.

After a full day of travel, you find yourselves back at the bridge, that had rested on the cliffs far above the river. The sun is setting once again, and the cool evening air begins to chill you as it had the night before.

On the opposite side of the bridge lays the corpse of one of two ogres previously slain - having rotted and been scavenged upon by the creatures of the forest.

Jeremy has said his village was south, along the river. If you had wished to do as he asked, This would be the point at which to turn.

Spoiler

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Spells replenished, HP recovered, 100 XP gained for successfully capturing the Magistrate and keeping Titus alive.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len peers down the narrow, craggy trailhead and dismounts, gently tugging thre pony's reins.

"I'll...catch up with you guys?" Len offers.

[Deepblue706]

"You mean to go alone?" Lucian seems a bit confused. "Hasn't this wilderness proven to be more than dangerous? Personally, I don't have much desire to do what that man asked - but..." he glances to the other party members, hoping they'll say something, fast.

[amanodel]

Shimar

First, what are we doing with this guy? - Shimar points to Flare, still carried by him.

[The Great Skenardo]

Harold Betruger
Harold thinks about that.
"Well," he says, "He'll be useful if we need to cross any ditches or large mud puddles." He turns to Len and puts an arm across her shoulder, speaking very quietly.
"Look, I feel for you on wanting to do the medicine errand, but you and I at least are suffering from a terminal illness called 'not enough money to pay back the mob.' I don't want it to reach the late stages, especially since our haul from this journey was...lackluster in comparison with the debt at hand. We don't have a lot of people to work with, here, and not very much time. We can't do pro bono jobs."

[Ya Ta Hey!]

Len sighs, hating the idea of going back on her word even temporarily. However, Harold is absolutely right; she adds up the days and realizes that Taeger gave them two weeks as a best-case scenario. If they haven't been found out already, the next four days will have to be very productive.

"Maybe we can hire a messanger." Len says, climbing back on the horse and steering it toward the main road.


OOC: Okay, I feel less guilty about going back to PG now.

[Deepblue706]

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So, it's still sunset. Is Len getting back on her horse and "Steering it toward the main road" because you're all going to keep riding? I don't wanna progress until I can be absolutely certain about exactly what you're doing.

[Ya Ta Hey!]

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Sure, why not. If Jeremy's aunt is so sick that she can't wait four days when he have this ironed out or are TPK'ed, I think he wouldn't be so docile about his impending run-in with the law.

If no one objects, let's make like trees. I remember the bridge being about a days ride from PG gates, so we'll be on Day 11 before we even see Cauldius/Wyatt/Taeger/collection agents to begin with.

You know, I just realized that if we hadn't found Flare, Claudius would have gotten out of paying his share. As is, were looking at badly needed 810 gp (140*double pay*3 = 810) in stead of 540.

Plus, the magician being parylized will make it a lot easier to convince him to shut up and pay Wyatt already without getting all righteous about it.

[Deepblue706]

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Does, uh, anyone have a problem with riding for two whole days with only a few minor rest breaks? I mean, I'm not gonna MAKE you camp, but...