Your father is dead. Now, having only just passed the threshold into manhood, it is up to you to provide for your mother and little sister. You've been waiting for this responsibility. Your father, once the great retainer of some (now fallen) lord, lost himself in his latter years to cards and spirits. He was, at least, never violent, but he squandered the little you stood to inherit and worse, left the family with significant debts. Penniless and desperate, unable to even secure an apprenticeship with any of the masters of the village (debt is worse than leprosy in that regard), you've taken up his old sword and his round shield and come to the town of Hobcroft to try your luck as an adventurer. It's been six days since your arrival and you've burned through the dozen or so silver staters you had come in with--coins your mother practically forced you to take, though it will mean subsisting on thin barley porridge and whatever chestnuts your sister can scavange from the woods. But you've managed to secure some leads on possible employment. The bigger jobs are reserved for those with the reputation to meet them, for the rest either the pay is uncertain or meager or the risk is great.You have three offers before you:>The guard captain is looking for someone to help infiltrate a mysterious fire-worshipping cult that has setup in a nearby ruin. The pay is good, and you'll be led by an expert in such things, but the risk of getting caught gives you pause.>A merchant is looking for someone to survey the lands to the north, for purposes of a new settlement. The journey should easy given how many will be in the company, but the pay, split so many ways is equally paltry.>An old blind man wants to be escorted to the Oracle of the Moon, a journey that will take you through the mountains and across the river. The pay is decent, but the journey, though through safe roads and lands, is a long one. At least you'll be paid up front.
>>6058044>A merchant is looking for someone to survey the lands to the north, for purposes of a new settlement. The journey should easy given how many will be in the company, but the pay, split so many ways is equally paltry.
>>6058044>An old blind man wants to be escorted to the Oracle of the Moon, a journey that will take you through the mountains and across the river. The pay is decent, but the journey, though through safe roads and lands, is a long one. At least you'll be paid up front.
>>6058044>>A merchant is looking for someone to survey the lands to the north, for purposes of a new settlement. The journey should easy given how many will be in the company, but the pay, split so many ways is equally paltry.
>>6058044>An old blind man wants to be escorted to the Oracle of the Moon, a journey that will take you through the mountains and across the river. The pay is decent, but the journey, though through safe roads and lands, is a long one. At least you'll be paid up front.A consistent objective for consistent pay.
>>6058044>An old blind man wants to be escorted to the Oracle of the Moon, a journey that will take you through the mountains and across the river. The pay is decent, but the journey, though through safe roads and lands, is a long one. At least you'll be paid up front.Give the payment to your sis before we depart.
After some pacing and nailing biting, you decide to visit the inn where the blind old man is currently staying. It's in the more well-to-do part of town, separated from the slums by a coursing river, accessible by a curved stone bridge. It is twilight when you enter and the lower part of the two story innhouse, which serves as a bistro and pub, is buzzing with activity. After shouting into the ear of a serving maid, you learn that the old man has locked himself in his room "as usual"."Doing what?" you ask.The maid shrugs. "Praying maybe? He's got the monkish look about him."You squeeze past the patrons and climb the stairs to the second floor. The hallway here is more dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering in the sconces. There's muffled moaning and giggling coming from behind some of the doors, which, being a young man from the sticks regrettably inexperienced in such matters, naturally stimulates your curiosity. But you force yourself onward to the old man's room, the third from the end of the hall. Polite knocking is met with silence, and it's not until you pound on the door with your fist that someone on the other side moves to open the door. The old man must be deaf as well as blind."So, you've decided to take the job, after all?" he asks, when you're inside. He hobbles to a small table and lights another candle, revealing a room as spartan as your own, in the slums. On the table are some discarded bandages, stained with a fragrant pus. You must have caught him in the process of changing them--fresh white ones tightly cover his eyes. He sits down on a little stool by the open window, inviting you to sit at the table. When you remain standing (wondering if his blindness might be contagious), he continues, "Six days in all, as I've said and I know the job is perhaps beneath your rank. Certainly, your reputation precedes you. All those I asked said I could do far worse than Odneyn the Otter, but, that is why I am willing to pay your fee up front, in full." He pats his chest and the coins hidden in the pocket jingle pleasantly.The only problem is, you're not Odneyn the Otter.What do you want to do?>Play along and take the money. You can ask around about Odneyn after you leave, hopefully he won't mind you borrowing his name for a little while.>Lying to a blind old man? What would your mother say? Explain that you're not Odneyn, but that you have come about the job, even if means less money.>Double down. What would Odneyn do? He'd probably ask for more money; make the job worth his while. You can do that, too.>Write-in
>>6058344>write>"I am not Odneyn the Otter. But for equal coin I'll take that name for the length of the journey, and my customer may keep his as a Seer, noneself the wiser."Never be an asshole to strangers. But that doesn't mean we won't haggle.
>>6058344>TAKE THE MONEYWe need it for our family, and we won't be boasting about making it through safe roads as this Otter fellow.
>>6058344>Lying to a blind old man? What would your mother say? Explain that you're not Odneyn, but that you have come about the job, even if means less money.
>>6058344>Lying to a blind old man? What would your mother say? Explain that you're not Odneyn, but that you have come about the job, even if means less money.We're a hired sword, not a fraud
>>6058344>>Lying to a blind old man? What would your mother say? Explain that you're not Odneyn, but that you have come about the job, even if means less money.
>>6058403This is the right choice. Dunno why everyone just ignored it and chose the lesser option.
>>6058403>>6058344Support this
>>6058403>>6058424>>6058452>>6058566>>6058632>>6058662>>6059269>>6059370It seems a poor start to your career to assume the identity of another, whatever the loss in coin. You explain to the old man that you are not the famous (though you've never heard of him before) Odneyn, but that you are willing to escort him on his journey all the same. He is silent a moment, twisting a ring with an opal stone on his finger, embarrassed by his mistake. Then he brightens up. Claiming that he appreciates your honesty, he offers you the job, and not only that, but for the same wage as he would have offered Odneyn. But, seeing as you are not, in fact, Odneyn, and lack his reputation, he can only offer you half the money up front. This seems to you an acceptable compromise. The word on the grapevine was twenty staters for this job, so ten up front, but the man hands you eighteen silver pieces, promising another eighteen upon completion. It covers the coin your mother lent you and then some. You can send it back, in part or in whole, by Lester Cartman, the village trader, whom you know is in town peddling his wares. But you must admit the coins represent a great temptation as you pass again through the hallway (amid the pleasurable sighs and groans). It is true that you have never spent any money on yourself, always relinquishing whatever few silvers came into your possession to your mother for safe-keeping, or, more often, to your father for his vices. The only thing you ever received from him in exchange, beyond some rudimentary knowledge of swordsmanship, was a certain sleight-of-hand trick, invented for the purposes of cheating at dice or cards, but which you had practiced to perfection for the more benign purpose of entertaining your little sister and her friends.The trick comes to mind as you enter again into the commons of the inn, where the dice seem always rolling. You father was eventually caught for his cheating, but that was due to his overzealousness. If one was more careful, and had the self-control quit while they were ahead... the trick itself is virtually undetectable the first time, even the second time, but winning too often is itself grounds for suspicion, even if the means remain a mystery.->
>>6059783The old man, whose name is Helmod, told you meet him at dawn tomorrow by the southern gate. That leaves you ample time to purchase supplies, though you're certain you'll have an opportunity to restock along the way. The Oracle resides in a cave system by a river valley, within the Amethyst mountains. Much of the mountain is unsettled wilderness, and you've heard tall tales of stone-giants that reside in those parts, but you will be taking well-trod trails and roads. The worst you expect to encounter are brigands, but you doubt they'd take the trouble of the hike just to harass pilgrims, not to mention the risk of invoking the Oracle's wrath. There is a small village at the base of the mountain, which is where you'll be sojourning for a night. It is there you can resupply, if necessary. >What do you want to do?>Send the money back to your family>Spend the money on supplies and on a treat for yourself>Try your hand at dice and see if you can't double your money>Write-in
>>6059789>Send the money back to your family
>>6059789>Send the money back to your familyWe've got to be a good boy.
>>6059789>Send half back to our family, spend half on supplies.
>>6059789>Send half the money back to your family>Bet 2 coins on a dice game, try the cheat>Hold the rest for opportunity/emergency
>>6059789>>6060119>Send half the money back to my family, and try to double the other half.>My family needs to eat more than barley-water while I'm on this journey, but I will also need equipment.
>>6060413>>6060119+1&18 upfront, so &9 to mom, &5 to gamble, &4 in reserve. bet &2 on the first round and lose, bet &1 on the second and win, bet &3 on the third and win, then chicken out.
>>6060570we know how our old man acts when he gets the gambling bug. Mimic his bulging eyes and mouthbreathing. Really sell it.
>>6059789>>6060570 +1
>>6059877>>6059891>Win that bread>>6060118>>6060119>>6060413>>6060570>>6060571>>6060574>It's not cheating if they're degenerate gamblersAlso, the rules of the game they are playing aren't quite amenable to your >>6060570 strategy, however, I understand the flavor of it and will incorporate it as best I can.
>>6060883yay QM!
You try and put the dice and the cheat and the prospect of multiplying your silver out of your mind, but before you've even halfway across the room, you're already turning around to join one of the games. The dice tables are a bit lower and curved inward slightly to keep the dice from spilling out. You spectate a few rounds at first, getting a feel for the players, for the rules of their particular variant of dice. The leader of the group seems to be a brawny, hairless man with a large brand (the letter 'M') over his right eye, who goes by the moniker Joko the Egg. Once you show the two staters you're willing to wager, it is he who swipes them off the table, and snatches the dice from another's hand to place them into yours. The rules of the game are simple enough. The caster declares a number, if he rolls that number immediately, he wins. If he does not, he either loses with some numbers and continues to roll with others, depending on the number he declared. If he continues to roll, he must match his first roll to win, or match his declared number to lose. Any other number lets him keep rolling.It is similar to the games your father played in, with one small difference: the caster may place a side-bet after his first roll, whose winnings carry over to each subsequent roll until he either wins it all or owes the accumulated stake. Normally such side-bets are only allowed to the bank, who are made up of the players, but it is as much to your advantage for you can win more than equal stakes, and with your cheat, win with certainty.On the first roll, you declare a 7, but roll a 6. Your second roll is a 7, so you lose. Normally the dice would now pass to the next player, but you ask if you can have a second try, with the air of desperation you've often heard in your father. Joko the Egg, silencing all protests with a horse-like widening of nostrils, hands you the dice a second time. Again you declare a 7, and this time you win, rolling a 7 at once. You only bet a single stater that time, so you've but broken even, but the point was to see if they could catch your trick. None seem the wiser, so you cast again, once again declaring 7. You bet 3 this time and when the roll is neither win nor loss, you place a side-bet. The second roll leads to a third, which matches your first, earning you the win. Because the side-bet pays out 3 to 2, and with your original bet, you come out ahead a whole dozen silvers. Joko offers you the dice again, his massive hand hovering over the mess of staters you've just won, but you beg his pardon and, sliding the coins out from under his palm into your purse, beat a hasty retreat. Joko follows you as far as the door of the inn, but when you look behind your shoulder, he has gone back inside. It's probably for the best that you'll be out of town for the next few days.->
>>6060930But you are twelve staters richer! With thirty silvers in your purse, it's a much simpler matter to send the full amount to your mother, with interest, and still have enough to pay for any provisions you might need for the climb. Lester Cartman is only too happy to act as go-between for a fellow villager. He mentions in passing something about an old friend of your father's, Leon Archerson, someone from his warrior days, who told Lester Cartman to tell your father to seek him out at Yngley-above-the-Lake, the anchored city, regardingn some develop about "the old legend". As your father has passed, he delivers the summons to you in his stead, hoping you'll understand the cryptic message, but you're as confounded as he is. Your father rarely spoke of his glory days, prefering to drown their radiance in the darkness of melomel and prunelle. It is possible this Leon can offer some insight.What do you want to do?>You'll head to Yngley as soon as you return>You'll go to Yngley some time in the future>You'll ignore the summons>Write-in
>>6060931>You'll head to Yngley as soon as you return
>>6060931>You'll go to Yngley some time in the futureOne thing at a time eh?
>>6060931>>6060950+1No hard commitments about mysterious business before I even have any adventures under my belt.
>>6060931>>You'll head to Yngley as soon as you returnFinally. An actual pure adventure quest. Let's hope this one lasts.
>>6060931>You'll go to Yngley some time in the future
>>6060930Joko's a scary man, but I don't know if he'll be willing to risk trying the tough guy act with half a foot sharp steel. I hope we don't have to find out.>>6060931>You'll head to Yngley as soon as you returnWho knows what dad would've done, but it's something to do, isn't it?
>>6060930>You'll head to Yngley as soon as you return
>>6060976+1Yngley's adventurous this time of year
>>6060931maybe pops was getting drenched in wine waiting for the Sign to change in Yngley. Why waste the little goodwill the old man managed to scrape up.
>>6060930no dice involved, but somehow that felt too close
>>6060941>>6060976>>6061024>>6061028>>6061065>>6061141>A blatantly obvious plot hook? In an adventure quest? It's highly irregular, but alright.>>6060950>>6060951>>6060994>>6061012>Never do today what you can put off till tomorrow.
Much as you'd like to drop everything and pursue this mysterious invitation, all will have to wait until after this job. Yngley-above-the-Sea* is to the southwest, reachable only by the ships which moor at Mothmoon bay. On very clear nights, the anchored city is visible from atop certain hills in your home village, suspended like candle's flame upon a dark sconce. It is the ancient city of learned men, the gathering place of scholars, sorcerers, physics and philosophers. A place that seems totally opposite your father's unrefined appetites. You tell Lester Cartman you will obey the summons and he makes you promise to satisfy his curiosity regarding the message.In the morning, the old man, Helmod, is already at the gate when you arrive (though you had thought to come early). He has with him a walking stick and a large bundle, fastened around his body with rope. The first part of the journey, to the village of Amethyston, is by a main road, snaking through a wood and across a river. Eventually you come to a fork, the sign indicating Amethyston to the south and the Temple of the Golden Lion, a place of pilgrimage, though now it stands as a ruin. Other than a few innocuous travelers on the road, you encounter no one. The only real nuisance is the summer heat.As twilight falls, you arrive at the village of Amethyston, narrow roads surrounded by stone and wood houses with a small market square around the village well. The villagers are gruff, and there is no inn as such, but you are able to find a place to stay for the night in the house of a local. Helmod does not seem to mind the crude accommodations (you've set up together in a drafty garret above the main floor, with your only your own blankets for bedding), and he is so exhausted that he falls straight to sleep. You, however, being a younger man, for the first time in your life in a wholly foreign place, are restless.Your host intimated (albeit reluctantly) that your accommodations included board as well as bed, but when you descend to the commons you find no one there except for a young woman, a little older than your sister, whom you remember your host rebuking sharply when he discovered her peeking at you through a crack in her door as you mounted the ladder to the attic. Her hair is tied and covered in a white coif and wimple, observing all the proper modesties of a girl of her adult (and unmarried) status. Spotting you at the threshold, she is slightly startled, and nearly drops the large communal dish on which are arranged a small wheel of cheese, flatbread, a large covered bowl, and a smaller bowl of boiled peas. Mastering herself, she places the tray on the rough hewn trestle table, on which, given the quantity of wood shavings that litter it, your host must eat, as well as win, his bread. ->
>>6061569The girl invites you sit down at the table. Your host is out attending some gathering of the headman's in the alewife's house and will not be back until late. Something tells you he would not approve of your breaking bread with this girl in such intimacy. More likely he intended you to take your supper in the attic. This meeting seems also of interest, as it concerns some recent goings-on in the mountain. And in any case, though you are starving, you always do a bit of exercise before setting down for supper, a habit you inherited from your father to keep your swordskill sharp.What do you want to do?>Have supper with the girl>Check out the headman's gathering>Go outside and practice your swordskill>Write-in
>>6061571>Have supper with the girlEssential needs first, never know what may interrupt one's meal plans if you delay.I imagine we can pick up a few rumours along our journey to compensate for not attending the meeting. We may very well not be welcome at said meeting anyways.>>6061569Why the asterisk? Was there a footnote you forgot to post?
>>6061579Just correcting the name. It's over-the-Sea not over-the-Lake.
>>6061571>>Go outside and practice your swordskillI would say you never know when your next meal may be, but we have rations and no real reason to risk drawing the ire of our host.If we keep to the immediate area around the house, we should also still be able to provide Helmod some level of security as he sleeps.
>>6061571>Have supper with the girl
>>6061571>Go outside and practice your swordskillI don't care about the risk of insulting our host but I do care that it could reflect badly on the reputation of our employer.
>>6061571>practice sword skillz outside >mlady the girl the whole timeshe mirin, we flexenhomesteader will pounce back home just to catch us schmoozing with his daughter; let him catch us warrior monking in the backyard instead. Play pious, chaste and gallant. We are on a job anyway, and we can always get up to good-good on the return journey. A scoundrel and a professional, that's us.
>>6061626There is a time and place for wenches, and it is NOT on the job. Unless that IS the job, but somehow I don't forsee being Ye-Olde Man-of-Mystery in our near future.
>>6061571What could possibly go wrong? She seems nice. >Have supper with the girl>Offer to teach her some basics of the sword as you practice afterwardEither she thinks we're autismo and we're safe from any undesired romantic outcomes, or she's into it and we can do this >>6061626
>>6061571>>6061626+1
>>6061640To clarify, we are NOT schmoozing the daughter.I'm saying that the homesteader is WAITING just ANTICIPATING us even talking. So we 100% dodge that, pretend to be the perfect gentleman.>we are not ye Olde Man of MysteryNot with that attitude
>>6061571>>Go outside and practice your swordskillJob first
>>6061571>>Go outside and practice your swordskill
>>6061579>>6061598>>6061647>torment, jezebel, etc.>>6061590>>6061616>>6061626>>6061659>>6061748>>6061868>>6062115>While you were partying, I studied the blade
Faced with such an unfamiliar (though not entirely unwelcome) situation, you default to old habits. Begging the girls pardon, you escape into the space behind their house, which they keep as a kind of garden. Though you left your shield upstairs, you keep your sword on your person at all times. The old blade could use some repair. It's edge, though still sharp, has chipped away in places and the leather which wraps the hilt has worn down. Going through the stances and postures inevitably reminds you of your father. Whatever his faults, he was a good teacher, patient, encouraging, clear and illuminating in his instruction. You never understood why he didn't offer his services to Lord Hobson, the descendent of his late lord. You're certain he could have made a comfortable living as a captain or lieutenant in his service. But then, your father was witness to the carnage of Valrkel Fields, and the grudge he bore against the Suthermenn, first for slaying his king, and then for humiliating his lord, not even twenty years passage could assuage. If he bore that grudge in silence, was his pride worth the privation of his family?You are so fully absorbed in your exercises and thoughts that it is not until you hear a sharp word from your returned host, that you realize the girl had been spying you from the door this whole time. She retreats quickly inside, before your host can further admonish her, though her gaze lingers a while at your body. You quickly don your shirt, which you had discarded to bear the oppressive heat. The host then appears at the door and summons you to supper.You nibble on your food in silence, feeling dissected between the glare of your host and the curious glances of the girl standing by the table. The latter, you learn, is a ward, an orphan that your host has taken in and raised. Soon, she wheels in another young girl, whose vacant, listless expression suggests confinement to her strange wheeled chair. With the utmost attention, the ward begins to feed the new arrival. Eventually the host speaks, griping about his troubles. The headman has put a bounty on the heads of a clan of ravenous babwyns that have settled in the mountain. No one has yet discovered their lair, and they harass both pilgrims and the miners who dwell here. Worse, the giants who live in the mountains are unable to distinguish between them and humans, and it is only a matter of time before the villagers are blamed for their mischief. Believing you capable and trustworthy, he urges you to kill as many of them as you can find. Five staters for each of their tails you recover. Twenty for the location of their lair. And fifty for the head of their leader. Babwyns are much stronger than the average man, but not much more intelligent than a child. You'd rather avoid them if you can.->
In the morning, you find Helmod has already been to the market and bought the provisions you'll need. This includes ropes and spikes, a few torches, and other sundries useful for the climb. Before you leave, the ward, whose name is Syla, shyly hands you a tin of food, doubtless of her own preparation. You accept it with a strange excitement, having never taken food from anyone but your mother and sister. You feel you should return the gesture somehow.What do you want to do?>Promise to bring her souvenir from the oracle>Promise to buy her a gift from the market upon your return>Simply give thanks and wish her well>Write-in
>>6062141>Promise to bring her souvenir from the oracleThe lame and the sick going out of their way for us deserves some reward of note. A souvenir from the Oracle's abode should be doable anyways.
>>6062141>Promise to buy her a gift from the market upon your returnAn easier promise to fulfill, we don't know what awaits us at the oracle. With the completion of our job, and the possibility of bounty earnings, we should be flush with silver to purchase a fine gift.
>>6062141>>6062152+1
>>6062141>write>I'll bring something for this kindness on my return>for now, here's &1if a hill orc beastie has a &5 bounty, &1 for a tinned preserve should be plenty also>if there's no souvies for sale at the oracle, just pick an odd rock from there>the geology will be different from here>which proves you remembered her from there ago>and offer her a choice of new hats from the market to go with the rock when you show upGentlemen schmooze with style.
>>6062141>Promise to buy her a gift from the market upon your return
A nigga is enjoying this quest. Keep it up!
>>6062152>>6062266>>6062267>>6062296>>6062298>>6062375As pickings from the oracle are uncertain, you promise to buy her something from the market upon your return. A pleasant flush comes over her pale cheeks from your pronouncement, as she flees back into the house. All this was done in front of your host, but he seems not to mind it as much anymore. Possibly, his opinion of you has changed. Helmod confers with him briefly about directions to the oracle, and having confirmed his route, he takes your arm and ushers you forward.The first day's climb is easy. The trails are clear and the weather is very fair with a cool wind that keeps the sun from becoming unbearable. At night you make camp in the shade of an overhanging ledge. You open up some of your old rations, keeping the tin of newly prepared food for later. The dry pork and hardtack goes down hard. Water is too scarce in these parts to use for softening them up, the usual streams which will run in Autumn are currently dry. But Helmod informs you that you've made good time and that with any luck, you'll reach the oracle by midday tomorrow.As the moon rises above the crags, you feel your eyes grow heavy. Just as you're about to nod off, however, you hear some voices. They are too far and it is too dark to see them properly, but the wind carries their words to your ears. One speaks in Ylfesh, the high-tongue of lords, brought over from across the sea by the Suthermenn. The one who answers speaks in your own native Sahson, and there is a third voice, lighter, a woman's, which is too low to make out. They are coming closer, that much is obvious, and may have already spotted you. You slowly creep your hand toward the hilt of your sword, your other hand already resting on the shield on your lap, ready for the worst. ->
>>6062498Before they enter the ring of light, the second voice calls out to you. They ask if you have any water to spare. They have been on the mountain for days and have completely run out, and one in their party is sunsick. They offer to trade some of their spoils for the water and for the right to camp with you for the night. And otherwise they have no ill intentions and would just as happily pass through. You tell them to come forward, so that you may look at them. The one who spoke to you approaches first, introducing himself as Samuel Longsword of the Dawnhold. His companion, also the leader of the party, is called Salehamd, and their third member is Eomed, a scholar-in-training from Yngley-above-the-Sea. Samuel Longsword keeps long hair, as per the new Suthermenn custom, but it is dun like yours, unlike the shock of ice-white hair, like the finest woolen thread, that falls to Salehamd's shoulders. His smooth, pale visage and glowing eyes are things you've heard of tales, some of which you've frightened your sister with. But right now you hope their more grisly parts, especially the bits about the Ylfen rites of communion, are not true. As for Eomed, who rides on the back of a hyrngat, one of the enormous, shaggy rams that you saw used as beasts of burden in the village, she seems as sunsick as Samuel had claimed. Her lips are cracked white, her hair matted to her forehead, and her exposed hands and face bright red. She wears the blue hooded robes of some Yngley institution. And, even as infirm as she is, it is a long time before you can look away from her face, and slow the pounding of your simple heart.Salehamd says something, again in Ylfesh, and Samuel reiterates the request for water. Helmod finally wakes up from all the noise and before you can even explain the situation, hisses for you to tell them to get lost. He won't share water with a "Surmanni demon". You hope they didn't hear that. Both Samuel Longsword and Salehamd are well-armed, one with the titular blade, the other with a warhammer (that seems to be emanating a faint humming), and seem quite proficient in their use.What do you want do?>Ignore Helmod and share your water freely>They offered to trade for water, so accept their offer>Attempt to barter with them to squeeze as much as possible>Write-in
>>6062501>Ignore Helmod and share your water freely Reasonably freely; keeping at least enough to last till the next stop with only slight thirst. Helmod's hire was for escort only.Helmod's a blind sham anyway. He won't notice if we loudly cuss them out while handing over a spare waterskin
>>6062498>>6062501Something about the way this QM writes. It's complex in a simple way. Not sure I'm making sense. It's what I try to still die when I write. Hoping to see more of them around here. >>6062531Voting this. Fellow adventures who haven't been sideways with us and one of them is sick? No reason to give them the finger.
>>6062581*What I try to aim for. Stupid phone.
>>6062501>"I'm in the employ of Helmod here and he doesn't want to share our water, so I won't. I wish you the best of luck finding water, good sirs and ma'am. If you try to get it here, you'll get your fair share of blood with it."
>>6062501>Ignore Helmod and share your water freely
>>6062501>They offered to trade for water, so accept their offer
>>6062501>>6062531+1I like the idea of loudly telling them to scram while silently and secretly giving them some water. Avoids conflict with both our employer and the strangers.
>>6062531>>6062581>>6062591>>6062792>>6062832>>6062874Raising a finger over your mouth, you unclasp your waterskin from your belt and show it to Samuel Longsword. Then you point to Helmod, half-sitting up from the blankets, and cover your eyes with your hand. Samuel Longsword, cranes his head, sees the bandages over Helmod's eyes, and nods. "My employer Helmod here says he doesn't want to share our water," you say. "I'm sorry good sirs--" ("Bah, don't apologize them!")"--and madam--but you must look elsewhere. And should you try to force my hand, I warn you: blood spills as readily as water." The Suthermann asks Samuel Longsword something, which the latter dismisses with a wave of his hand. Thank goodness he understands. "'Tis a pity," he says, loudly. "But so be it. We'll find water elsewhere.""That's right, Ylfen dogs," Helmod sneers. "Sail back to Surmansithia and kiss the boots of your bloodless masters. And may the sea wrym level your ships and swallow your bones."As he passes, Samuel Longsword takes the waterskin you hand him and presses a small purse into your hand. He whispers in your ear that he'll leave the skin by some bushes for you to recover later. When Eomed passes on the hyrngat, she gives you a tired smile and mouths 'thank you'. You wouldn't have traded that for all the silver in Yngleyside. If only Helmod wasn't so inflexible, she could have spent the night around the campfire. Then again, the unnatural amber eyes and the faint scent of iron in the Suthermann's breath, gives you pause. You surrender a wide berth. He glances askance at you, as if trying to place you in his memory, but then Samuel Longsword calls him and he walks on.When their footsteps have faded, Helmod sits up and takes a long drink from his waterskin, sighing with a particular satisfaction. "You did good, lad," he says. "Earned your coin."Speaking of coin. The purse Samuel Longsword gave you is rather light, probably no more than a half-dozen silvers. It seems rather stingy of him--that is until you go to count it (once Helmod has gone back to sleep). It's six coins alright. Six gold coins. And you've quite never seen their like, and not just because you've never actually held a gold coin in your hands. They're old, not merely weathered, but ancient. The perfect smoothness of their circumference is entirely different from the hexagonal edge of the staters minted in Tor Valrkel. The pattern embossed on them has neither the old Sahson three-tined crown, nor the new Suthermenn rowship, but a meticulously detailed profile of a lion. Whatever their origin, the coins represent a small fortune. Each one might be exchanged for a dozen or even two dozen silver staters. You can finally start to make a dent in your father's debts.->
>>6063279Later, as you're about to leave the campsite, you find the waterskin where Samuel Longsword said it would be. You pick it up and give it a shake. Only about a fifth left, whereas it was full when you gave it to him. The sky remains just as clear this morning as it was yesterday. But, as you climb higher up the mountain, the trees gradually become thinner and more scattered, and there is less shade from the merciless sun. You comfort yourself with the look you imagine will be on your mother's face when you present the gold coins to her. She has grown so haggard of late, overworked and bowed under the pressure of poverty. Your sure your choice of profession hasn't been a comfort either. More than anything, you want to give her the relief she so well deserves. The thought of it is a like cool spring, and your parched throat and dripping brow is soon forgotten in its reflection.Around mid-day, you encounter a much more serious problem. A troop of babwyns, waiting in ambush atop a tree that hangs over the trail about half a bowshot away. Their reckless screeching has given them up, but you count five in all, armed with crude, heavy clubs and small rocks. There's a narrow ledge about ten paces down that goes around the spot and provides enough cover to pass by undetected. It's too narrow to jump onto, but there are enough footholds to climb down and likely enough to climb back up later. If you spike the facing wall, Helmod should be able to climb down as well, using the rope. On the other hand, there was that twenty silver reward for the location of their lair. It can't be far and if you just wait long enough, one of them should eventually abandon their post to return, and lead you straight to it. You can also try and use some of your rations to lay a trap, though you hate the idea of letting the food Syla worked so hard to prepare go to the likes of hairy brutes.What do you want to do?>Climb down and go around>Wait for one to leave and follow>Use rations to lay a trap>Write-in
>>6063280>Use rations to lay a trapHaving given up most of my water, waiting around is not going to be an option. Going without food is easier than going without water, and a Babwyn tail was worth 5 stets. Easily worth missing a meal for.
>>6063280>Wait for one to leave and follow
>>6063280>write>memorize this location>the tree and ledge>maybe make a mark with stake and rope on some other tree nearby, plus a small rockpile>then climb down go aroundNot giving Syla's jam to apes, and not risking Helmod's health chasing apes. Clear the job first, and with the money buy a boar spear, a bow, maybe a bear trap.Professionals have standards, even at level 1.
>>6063321Having a blind old racist with us as an escort mission makes everything worse; can't bring him with us tracking, can't leave him alone in babwyn country.The babwyn will still be here devaluating the real estate values when we get back. Let's not bet Helmod's wrinkled old ass in our gambles. He hasn't deserved it yet.
>>6063280I, for one, don't think it's a good idea to get ourselves torn in halorangutan. orangutans.>>6063321I'll agree with this.
>>6063380Torn in half by orangutans. Don't know what the hell happened with that autocorrect.
>>6063280>Climb down and go around
>>6063381I thought your original post was a reference to Halo brutes. Since there basically space monkeys.
>>6063321Supporting.Trying to do this with only our beat up sword and a blind old man in tow is a great way to get our shit rocked. We can come back here later with better gear and (ideally) somebody to watch our back.
>>6063299>>6063318>>6063321>>6063328>>6063380>>6063381>>6063392>>6063492>>6063507You grab hold of Helmod before he blinds walks forward into the ambush. He's about to protest, with volume, which would have given away your position, but you manage to clamp your hand over his mouth just in time, and pull him behind large boulder. The screeching quiets for a few tense seconds. You pray the babwyns didn't catch your sudden movements, but a moment later the yelling resumes, allowing you to slowly take away your hand from Helmod's mouth."What's the matter?" Helmod whispers.You begin rummaging through your pack instead of immediately answering. Soon you have the spikes, the mallet, and the length of rope arrayed neatly on the ground. You briefly explain the situation to Helmod, hammering in a spike on the rock wall beside you--to mark the spot--while you do so. You're simply not equipped to deal with these creatures, but you remember more or less the trail you walked to get here. You can always come back (preferably with help that isn't blind and infirm), but your first priority is to get Helmod to the oracle in one piece. It's an easy climb down to the lower ledge. Even Helmod is able to make it without much difficulty, especially with the assistance of the rope tied to a spike that you drove into the wall of the ledge on the way down. You creep along, keeping your backs to the wall and your bodies low. The ledge eventually becomes too narrow to proceed further, but by then the screaming has grown distant and you can simply climb back up. You give Helmod a boost first and then pull yourself onto the upper trail. After taking a moment to rest, in which you down the rest of your water, you set off once more. ->
The remainder of the journey is uneventful, and you arrive at the oracle's cave with the sun already set, and the moon visible above the peaks. The entrance is a perfectly round hole in the side of the mountain, with slabs of fallen stone forming a crude staircase up to its mouth. Helmod takes the lead here, feeling his way up the stairs with his walking sticks and passing fearlessly through the threshold of the cave. You reluctantly follow. It's dark inside, but cool, with a strong breeze blowing out from the depths of the cave. You can hear the faint rush of water, which tightens your throat with thirst, but Helmod seems to go away from it, keeping his hand on the left wall until he finally comes to a chamber which is completely dark. You move to light a torch, but he grabs your wrist. An austere, feminine voice speaks from the darkness, the words bouncing off the walls around you into the tunnel behind. "I saw your coming," it says. "Do you have the offering?"Helmod falls on his knees and yanks the opal ring from his finger, presenting it to the voice in his palms. "And the other?" the voice asks."No," Helmod says. "He's no one. Just my escort.""Then he must wait outside. Two may not hear the words meant for one."Helmod reaches into his robes, pulls out his waterskin and slides it to you. "Wait for me by the pools," he commands.Having come this far, you had hoped to at least see the oracle's face, if only for the sake of having a story to tell to your sister. Already, a strange pale light is beginning to dawn in the chamber. You see now that the ceiling, which you had thought so distant as to be lost in darkness, is in fact open to the air, and it is the radiance of the moon which is slowly filling the chamber. There are similar slabs of stone here, leading up to a broad shelf on which you can make out the shadowy shape of a woman in loose robes. Just a little longer and the light will be strong enough to make out her face.Helmod pokes you with his walking stick, hissing at you to go.What do you want to do?>Do as Helmod says and wait by the pools>Try and speak to the oracle yourself>Pretend to go, but then hide and listen in>Write-in
>>6063564>Slowly begin out walk away turning to take a glimpse of the Oracles face before heading to the pools
>>6063564>Do as Helmod says and wait by the poolsThe oracle is magic and we want to get paid. Best not to make any trouble.
>>6063564>Do as Helmod says and wait by the poolsHell hath no fury like a wizards scorn technicalities notwithstanding.
>>6063564>Do as Helmod says and wait by the poolsWe can ask the oracle what offering she'd require from us for our own seleomantic divination afterwards, but this is Helmod's business. We can come back, we probably will in fact, for the babwyns perhaps. I'm getting spooky vibes from this oracle, avoiding being cursed is always a plus in my book.
>>6063564>Do as Helmod says and wait by the pools
>>6063564>I saw you coming Helmod>who dat behind youI'm Lord Skibidi, Esquire, Lady Aintseeshit. At least the Pythonians had enough sense to talk ambiguous. If all that's needed to be a seer is a headkerchief, we can get a nice long embroidered one for &3 on market day.>write>"yeah, yeah, I'm going">on the way out of the cave>unpick the thong seam at the bottom of the empty waterskin>once just outside of the cave immd put the mouth of the waterskin in your ear>using the opened up body as a hearing horn.>the us-ward wind might help carry their voicesRepairing the waterskin serviceable enough to last us to the next town would not be too hard if we only undo the seams. I'd fork up a few & just to hear what's so damn important being transmitted between two sham-men.>inb4 the Oracle actually calls us out for eacesdroppinh>"me? listening? nawww.">"this old heifer here">thump thump the leather waterskin>"she was listening. A remorseless gossip she is though. Aintcha, Betsie?"
>>6063564>Do as Helmod says and wait by the pools+>Write-inRefill the waterskins and look around the pools for something that would suffice as a souvenir of the location.
>>6063793If we find a large enough rock or bone, we might be able to carve it into something while we wait for Helmod.
>>6063784And before we forget:>Syla wants a souvie>this place is called the Amethyst MountainIf there are deep purple rocks on the ground, we keep an interesting looking one for Syla.If we can find an orange-sized picrel it's going into the bag. The other village lads can sod off with their flowers and tin jewelry, we swing in packing a mf geode.
>>6063796Sounds good to me.
>>6063797Supporting this ^
>>6063793+1
>>6063569>>6063570>>6063609>>6063610>>6063781>>6063784>>6063793>>6063796>>6063797>>6063800>>6064011>>6064077You begin to back away toward the tunnel entrance, but not before the light illuminates the high perch of the oracle. There is a flawless cube of something clear, viscid, and luminous, interred within a cage of glass, and itself interred with precious things, silver things, golden things: amulets, torcs, rings, crowns, and jeweled knives, all suspended inside like flies caught in amber. The cursed sight arouses such a heartless immensity of avarice that you would sooner cut your own sister's throat then let the greed go unsated one more second. Then the seer's gaze falls briefly upon your face and you feel yourself shrink. The weight of all the shame you have ever felt, all the guilt and disgrace, pulls your stomach all at once. You stagger backward and fall, and then scramble on your hands and knees out of the chamber as fast as you can. Those lidless yellow eyes seem to burn from within your mind, and not until you reach the pools, and splash its cool water on your face, do they begin to dim and fade. But it is a long time before the guilty feeling passes. And you are certain that the wrinkled, horribly gaunt features that surrounded those eyes, shall remain forever in your memory.You drink your fill of the water. You fill the waterskins. After a quarter of an hour without word of Helmod, you decide to go for a quick wash. Stripping your shirt, boots, socks and trousers, you wade in up to your knees into the pool, sighing with pleasure as the water moves between your toes and washes away the accumulated grime, sweat and filth. You wipe yourself down with an embroided handkerchief (courtesy of your sister) that you wet and wring out several times in the pool. You sit down on a small boulder by the pool to dry, and, feeling a bit peckish, decide to open the tin of food Syla had prepared for you. There's pickled turnips with dill and some raspberry jam and a few pieces of hardtack. It's a bit tart, but absolutely delicious. Almost as good as your mother can make--and she's the cellarer for the village reeve. You'll have to remember to complement her when you meet her again. ->
>>6064352You strike a torch and look around a bit. The pool is much bigger that you first thought, more like a lake. The torchlight does not reach its farther shore, though it does illuminate something shining beneath the clear, greenish water. You are able to pull it out after some struggle. It's a kind of hollow stone, about half the size of your palm, shaped almost like the mouth of a fish, where, instead of flesh, there are small purple stones, the titular amythests of the mountain. In its present form it's a bit unsightly, but a jeweler might be able to make something lovely from it. You pokcet it, intending to make a present of it for Syla.Another hour passes, without any sign of Helmod. At some point, you fall sleep and when you wake, it is morning. You've put on your clothes and are about to brave the oracle's eyes again to look for Helmod, when he appears, haggard and pale, mumbling for water. You return his waterskin. He drinks from it absentmindedly. On his cheeks are two long lines of red, the tracks of what must have been bloody tears. He sighs as though from a very great grief. You ask him if he wants to eat something before starting off again, but he shakes his head. He tells you he won't be going back. There's no longer any point. To anything.There follows a long silence. Then, remembering your payment, he unclasps the purse on his belt and holds it up. "You've done your part. Take it, lad. There's some extra there, for I won't be needing it anymore. Take the rations too. Take it all."A cursory glance inside the purse reveals at least another dozen silver more than the eighteen he promised you. But now you're curious about what happened to him. What did the oracle tell him? Why did he trek all this way only to lose hope at the last minute? What was it he was seeking in the first place?What do you want to do?>Take your payment and leave Helmod to his fate>Inquire further about Helmod's situation>Convince Helmod to come with you>Write-in
>>6064353>Convince Helmod to come with youIf he wants to die then he can do it after having thought on it a little longer. The moment we're gone, he'll be helpless if he changes his mind. At the very least he ought to come with us to avoid sullying our reputation. We left Hobcraft and passed through Amethyston with him in tow, if we return without him people may think us a poor escort, or worse that we murdered him for his silver.Do it for us, if not yourself Helmod.
>>6064353>Inquire further about Helmod's situation Can't address a problem without hearing it.
>>6064353>>Inquire further about Helmod's situation
>>6064353>Inquire further about Helmod's situation
>>6064353>Inquire further about Helmod's situationCome on old man, surely you aren't that worse off?
>>6064353>>6064459+1While the latter reasoning won't sway the man who believes all is for naught, the former reasoning is sound. There is no rush to die, and one can wait to die more comfortably in civilization. If we persuade him, he will probably want his extra silvers back, but the benefits to our reputation will partially compensate us for our kindness.
>>6064353>>6064459 +1
>>6064682>>6064582>>6064560>>6064534>>6064532>>6064484>>6064476>>6064459You take out the eighteen staters that is your due from the purse, then you draw the strings and hand it back to Helmod. He is too despondent to even argue with you. Your curiosity gets the better of you then and you demand to know what the oracle could have possibly told him that would reduce him to such a state of despair. For a long time he does not speak. "Not here," he finally says. You lead him outside, back beneath the light of the morning sun, to the shade of an alleyway formed between two sharp ridges of rock. There he begins to tell his tale. He once served in the court of the last Sahson king, Godwin the Great, dead now these last twenty years. He was not there at Godwinsward when his liege was gored by the lance of the invading Surmanni king, Rowaidgair. He was at Godwondin (now called Tor Valrkel), only a minor clerk, and a newlywed, with a little boy just beginning to walk and say his first words. His voice falters a moment in rememberance of this. The Surmanni, he says, were once ordinary men. Simple raiders and pirates who lived by their swords and their rowships. It was their encounter with the Ylfen that changed them into something more. The Ylfen granted one of their clans a tract of land along the Surmesithian coast. In exchange they would protect Ylfen cities and ships, and ensure safe commerce all along their trading routes. This was enormously successful, not only for the Ylfen, who were then free to direct their attention to the barbarians in the east, but especially for the newly formed Surmanni, who became fabulously wealthy from the arrangement. It was not long before they began to adopt Ylfen culture. Innocuous things at first, long hair, the language, names, even the practice of lifelong monogamy. It took nine years for Rowaidgair, then called Hrothgar, to partake in the Ylfen rite of communion--to drink the blood of the lamb. This was more than eighty years ago. Those who knew him then, will attest if they saw him now that he has not aged a day since. Not him, not the retainers took communion with him. His son, who sits upon the throne of Tor Valrkel, is a half-breed, and pratices these rites by necessity. When he defeated King Godwin and took Godwondin, he summoned before him all the lambs in the city. Four thousand boys and girls, innocent of sin and pure of heart, too young to be anything else. Their wailing mothers tore their hair outside the castle walls. The fathers had already been imprisoned in the dungeons--all those who had not already been killed on the fields of Godwinsward. The favorites among the four thousand were chosen, and the rest allowed to return to their mother's welcome embrace.->
>>6065087Helmod explains that his son was chosen for communion by Hrolf himself. The seven years he spent as Hrolf's sacrament, as his source of youth and life, were, at least, painless. The rites do not admit the lambs to suffer, it ruins the potency of their magic. It was the sight of the pale, dry body of his son, like a shriveled husk of discarded snakeskin, that robbed Helmod of his sight. He swore from that moment eternal vengence on the Surmanni, and for fifteen years he plotted and waited, watching one rebellion fail after another. He had hoped the oracle would at last reveal to him some path to his desired end, but her words have instead extinguished his last hope, by the requirement of something completely impossible. What this is, Helmod will not say. He was to pass along the oracle's prophecy to the head of the last bit of resistance that remains against the Surmanni occupation, but he sees little point to it now. It was all for nothing. He failed to protect his son, and now, he has failed to avenge him.He weeps until the bloody tears begin to fall again, and you sit beside him, listening to the wind whistle through the alleyway. Finally, you get up and tell Helmod that you cannot leave him here. If he wishes to die, he can do so in civilization, where there are more comfortable means, but you'll not let your reputation as an escort be sullied by his stubbornness. He is astonished by your reasoning, but in the end, has no choice but to acquiese. He does, however, demand his silver back, as now your job is technically not yet over."That's the spirit," you say, and happily hand him back the coins.Descending the mountain is a much easier task than climbing it, and the village walls are already visible by end of the first day. There are, however, some disturbing signs you encountered on the trail. Near the tree on which you encountered the babwyns, is an enormous mess of blood and gore. The stones and the walls are stained red. Yet, there is no trace of any bodies. Only the clubs the babwyns had wielded and strange, long quills, as black as coal, stuck in various places in the dirt. There are enormous paw prints among them, as if of a gigantic cat.You are so rattled by the sight that you do not wish to stop until you reach the village, but Helmod is exhausted and you are forced to make camp for the night. It is near midnight when you see it, a silhouette of a four-footed animal, taller than a man, with a long, segmented tail ending in a barbed knob. It has seen your fires, and though a half-bowshot away, it is racing toward you with tremendous speed. It will be upon you in a few seconds. Something about it seems unnatural, as though it were something that should not exist.What do you want to do?>Run, leaving Helmod as bait for your escape>Run and hide, hoping to take it by surprise when it goes for Helmod>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it flee>Write-in
>>6065090Wow, what a moving tale! Certainly an adventure awaits, should we ever find out what this last hope of Helmod is.>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it fleeMeet its charge, we have a job to do. Don't hide cowardice behind cleverness. Also, are we sure we are seeing some sort of illusion, or is the unnaturalness just the fact that it's a manticore?
>>6065121>Also, are we sure we are seeing some sort of illusion, or is the unnaturalness just the fact that it's a manticore?The latter, but not only because your character has never actually seen (or even heard of) a manticore before. It's unnatural in a very literal sense: as in something that simply should not exist in nature or could not have arisen by natural means, a contradiction of forms, an abomination. Similar to seedless watermelon or veggie bacon.
>>6065147So you're saying he'd react the same way looking at the Impossible Whopper or something?>>6065090>>6065090>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it fleeThere's nothing else to do with Helmod in tow. If he had fucked us over somehow, I'd be all for keeping him behind. But as things are...we have a job to do.
>>6065148>So you're saying he'd react the same way looking at the Impossible Whopper or something?Yes, precisely. The cosmic horror of genetically engineered meat analogues, a perversion of the natural order.
>>6065090Oh fuck, a manticore.>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it fleeOur mother didn't raise a coward!Besides that, Helmod's backstory is bleak. I'm onboard the Total Surmanni Death train. Kill Surmanni, behead Surmanni, hoist Surmanni on stakes, even death is too good for the Surmanni scum.
>>6065090>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it flee
>>6065090>write>kick the old man awake and say shut up get up prepare to run>pay the beastie full attention for 5-10 seconds>wiki longbow range ~400 yards>beastie is at 200yds, ~185m>see if the moonlight mottles coming through the trees touch it as it passes under them>listen if its gallop crashing through the trees makes any sound>if YES we NOPE from here, try to make for height or narrows before turning to fight back>if NO the charging beastie is fake, there is something cattish with poison quills hunting us>if it's a cat, it's probably somewhere behind /above us right now>shield up heads up sword down
>>6065350QM already confirmed the unnaturalness was regarding it being a manticore, not that we sensed an illusion.Also, for distance purposes it is probably not the best idea to make a default assumption of every bowshot being mentioned as being from a longbow. It is said to be upon us in mere seconds. If we run at all, we're probably leaving Helmod to a grisly fate or at least severe injury if we turn to take advantage of the beast's diverted attention. He's also...you know...blind.
just read >>6065147 for Word of God definition of "unnatural"modify>>6065350to>haul the old man up>"we're being chased follow me don't argue">"wrap your cloak and bedding around your shoulders as you go">we do the same>cloak wrap neck and sword arm>tie the rope around our belly and a clove hitch ready on the other end>run back to the tree and cliff of the babwyn ambush>snag some of the poison quills by the safe end>clovehitch the rope onto the rock and wait at the cliff edge>shield out in one hand, handful of quills in the other>when the manticore comes, it might try to pounce>bait it if it's hesitant in pouncing>calling a faakken püsse>kick off or drop off the cliff as it pounces >try to shank it with its own quills as it passes overhead>hope that the rope holds>hope that its poison works in its own bloodstream >hope it lands on its headThe manticore has eaten at least one babwyn, likely 2~3. It should be drowsy and low on venom. If it's still chasing us it means there's more than one; it's hunting to feed the mate or cubs. Amethyston has a massive problem.
>>6065358gotcha senpai
>>6063784>>6063797>ShitpostingCan you shut the fuck up, please?
>>6065370>triggered by zoomspeek>didn't read content>still triggeredExplain how they are shitposts go.
>>6065090>Stand and fight, hoping to injure it enough to make it flee>Oh shit, oh fuckI crouch under my blanket by the fire, watching the thing charge. When it closes in, I will lunge with my blade from beneath the blanket at the beast's ravening maw.
>>6065478I would also go for deploying anti-boogeyman tactics if not for the fact that it already sees us.
>>6065121>>6065148>>6065170>>6065248>>6065348>>6065350>>6065359>>6065478General consensus seems to be to stand and fight. It's time now to introduce the "action system" of this quest. It comes down to a x3 d20 roll vs. DC, counting passes as follows: 3 = critical success2 = success1 = success with complication0 = failure with complication. A complication is not always bad, and includes things like: loss/consumption of resources/equipment, sustaining wounds, revelation, opportunity. Sometimes I'll give you a choice between complications, but usually it will follow naturally from your chosen action.Every creature has a number of hit die (HD), this represents their resilience, overall threat level, resourcefulness, and capacity to avoid death. You can spend your HD to save yourself from complications, or to add one free pass to any roll. You recover 1HD per day of R&R (with bonuses if you carouse). You currently have 2HD. You can gain more with experience and from surviving adventures. You do not know the exact HD of creatures you've never encountered before (research into them can reveal this information). In general, creatures above 4HD are considered formidable. You can safely assume this creature has above 4HD.Every creature can sustain a number of wounds equal to half their HD, rounded down. Once you've taken all the wounds you can bear, the next wound you sustain counts as a mortal blow that incapacitates you. It takes a week to recover from a wound and may leave permanent damage in the form of a scar. A mortal blow requires expert or magical care to recover from, and always leaves a scar.The enemy will roll a hidden morale check every time they (or in some cases someone in their group) sustain a wound, if they fail, they will flee or surrender. Now, I'd like to clarify some things about the present situation: first, a bowshot here means about 200 yards. Second, you're currently back at the campsite where you encountered Samuel Longsword. This is a fairly wooded area, with softer inclines and fewer cliffs. There are a few steep gulches--but they'll be a tight fit to climb down. You don't really have enough time to set up any elaborate traps, but since I've already mentioned that you keep your arms ready to go, and since you're already on high alert after seeing the carnage earlier, you'll get a free action before the melee starts. I already assume you're going to alert Helmod, so we'll let that one be gratis. You can try to use any item that has already been mentioned to be in your possession thus far (torch, ration tin, rope, spikes, mallet), you can also spend an HD to "have prepared in hindsight" an item (within reason) that has not been mentioned (e.g a flask of oil, marbles/caltrops, a horn). Finally, you can brace yourself for a -1 to the DC.What do you want to do?>Ready/use an item (specify)>Ready/use an item prepared in hindsight (write-in)>Brace yourself for battle>Write-inAnd roll d20
>>6065656>Brace yourself for battleGET UP OLD MAN! WE'VE GOT A MONSTER TO SLAY!
Rolled 14 (1d20)>>6065656>Ready/use an item prepared in hindsight (write-in) >BEARTRAP-SHIELD>While at the village at the foot of the Oracle's cave, you remember the babwyn ambush at the tree with the cliff>five of them, each one stronger than a man.>You had been thinking on how to deal with them, maybe find their lair or collect the bounty for killing them>You thought you'd buy a couple of bear traps, maybe a spear, and a bow.>But there was no fletcher in the village; no bows>the smith was old and overworked too: no spears as such, but a small pruning hook beaten straight; worthless>in the end you scrounge around and make yourself a beartrap-shield:>six large mouse traps in two rows facing inwards, with two rusting rakes between them for jaws>the lot of it nailed and woodglued to your shield.>When you saw the quills and the poison drying in the sun, you picked some of them and added them to the teeth of your beartrap-shield.>Now a worse much beast than babwyn is here.>You hope this works.
>>6065656>Brace yourself for battle
Rolled 10 (1d20)>>6065656>Brace yourself for battle>Position yourself next to a tree at the edge of your campsite, something stout with some room to maneuver around it.Think of the tree as a gigantic static shield. If we can dodge around it while cutting at the beast, we might be able to minimize our suffering here.A spear might be more suited towards this particular strategy, but we should be able to make due with a sword in our hands I think.
Rolled 4 (1d20)>>6065656>Brace yourself for battleI think the best idea is to try and inflict a wound and scare it off. Failing that, we should tell Helmod which way to run in order to find a gulch while handing him our rope, spikes and mallet and get him to hide down there while we continue to buy him time, before running to the gulch ourselves. Or maybe we should do that first, before trying to buy him time by fighting. We'd have to move with the old man to prevent him from blindly falling down the gulch after all.
>>6065691>>6065699>>6065905>Success with ComplicationChoose one:>Your shield has been shattered>You have been wounded>Your strike glanced off the enemy
>>6065979>Your shield has been shatteredMaking sure we don't actually take a hit and get the damage race going is more important. Hopefully the manticore fails its morale check. We have tons of money, we can afford another shield.
>>6065979>Your shield has been shatteredThat's what it's there for
>>6065979>you shield has been shatteredin exchange for trapping the manticore's paw for a follow-up attack, and also potentially poisoning it? The best trade in this instance.>>6066011>nother shield laterYes. Nother Beartrap-Shield™, donut steel.
>>6065979>>Your shield has been shatteredThank you for your service Mister Shield.>>6066086Honestly, a spiked shield does sound like a fun little gimmick. It'd certainly make anybody trying to 1v1 reconsider things.
>>6065979>Your shield has been shattered
>>6065979>Your shield has been shatteredIt's practically an advertisement for employers that we don't run away from danger.
>>6066011>>6066049>>6066086>>6066117>>6066270>>6066291You've already kicked Helmod awake and told him to find somewhere to hide quickly. With the few moments before the creature is upon you, you take a few quick breaths to tamp down the fear, plant your feet, and raise your shield. Even when you see the creature's bizarre face--the face of a man, though much too large--you do not falter. It slams into you with the force of a raging river, but you stay standing. Each time it tries to swipe your neck with its razor-sharp claws, you bring the shield up to deflect, a fluid crossing pattern, just as your father taught you. Twice it does this and both times it hits only the shield, leaving deep claw marks in the wood.The moment it pauses the assault, you thrust your sword toward's its hideous face. It pierces the creature's cheek and the creature howls in pain, spitting gobs of blood from its mouth. Unfortunately, the blow only seems to enrage it. The creature rears back, its segmented tail poised to strike. You raise your shield to defend yourself just in time. But the barbed end of the tail easily pierces through the wood, snatching the shield from your grasp as the tail swings back. The motion sends the shield flying, and it shatters against a nearby boulder. You can't help but feel relieved that your father wasn't here to witness this. He would have given you an earful.The creature's expression suddenly changes (and not just because he has a huge, bleeding gash on his cheek). It looks almost meek and sullen. "The oracle won't like this," it whines. Then the expression changes again to the ferocious one from before. "The cubs are hungry," it says, as if in answer. "Manflesh they haven't had in forever." Back to the other face. "But the oracle said just the babwyns. Never her pilgrims." Now, again the first one. "I don't care what the oracle said." The faces begin to alternate in a strange conversation of one. "She'll send the giants after us." "I'm not afraid of them." "They're creatures of stone, our venom is useless." "Coward, we'll break them by force." "But they know the mountain and its hidden places. They'll find the cubs." This at last seems to give the creature pause. You've been slowly backing away toward some trees all this time, but now it notices you again and you freeze. Finally, it makes a decision. "The oracle can't see everything, not this far away." And it lunges toward you, claws bared.What do you want to do?>Try to roll away and get behind the cover of the trees>Thrust your sword out at the last moment to try and skewer it>Run for your life, using the terrain to create distance>Write-inAnd roll d20
Rolled 16 (1d20)>>6066453>WRITE FOR YOUR LIFE>Crouch, grab the middle of your sword with part of your cloak, while retaining grip on the handle>like a very short spear>prepare to stab into its throat or belly if things go wrong; at least on the underside only the claws will reach you, not the tail>Now Speech 100:>"We have just been to the Oracle, Noble Monster!">"She is the one with Yellow Eyes but no lids, as a Lizard!>"She sits atop a crystal cage, full of precious things, and a shapeless Devil!>"She told us (lie) that we (fib) are to deliver a message to a man far away!>"Do you know what this means?>"It means we (poppycock) will LIVE (bullshit)!>"If the Oracle told you that you must only eat the babwyn at the tree of the cliff, do you know what THAT means?>"It means even if you seek our death, we will LIVE! But you die HERE! To human travellers!>"Do not fear the Giants! Fear the Oracle! For everything she says is true, and the outcome for those who scoff, terrible! Go back to your rest! Teach this to your cubs!>"Or come forth again to me! And prove the Oracle true, your last satisfaction!"
>>6066453Ah, this is how the oracle punishes those who wrong her, the wrath that was mentioned near the beginning of the quest.>Try to roll away and get behind the cover of the treesWe can't run too far or randomly, or we'll lose track of Helmod permanently. I'm not sure how far we have to travel to the village, but we may run into supply issues as well, having abandoned our camp. I say we try and do what an earlier anon suggested and use the trees as a makeshift shield, show we aren't worth the trouble.
Rolled 2 (1d20)>>6066453Forgot to roll.
>>6066453>Try to roll away and get behind the cover of the treesI-FRAMES PRESERVE US
Rolled 19 (1d20)>>6066785>>6066453Forgot my diiiiiiiiiice
In one swift movement, you drop, roll backwards and come up behind some trees. The creature tries to jab at you with its tail between the branches, but the trees are too thick and you are too quick. You wait for it to tire itself out, baiting it into attacks that almost hit, always keeping the a tree or two between you and it. Finally, the perfect chance arises--it's tail gets caught between two tree branches. Raising your sword high above you, you slash down at its face. The cut is deep and tears one side of the beast's human face, blinding it, and causing it stagger back in pain and fright.The tail comes free and swings wildly to keep you back, in case you should attempt to deliver a finishing blow, but you keep well beyond it's reach. It is now that you notice the massive gold collar that the creature is wearing around its neck, as well as the golden bands around it's four legs. The collar has set in it a massive jewel, as big as your eye, that glitters green and gray when catches the firelight. It is secured tightly around the creature's neck and will not be removed without undoing whatever mechanism keeps it clasped, but it's value is likely enough to pay off all your father's debts in a single blow.The creature begins backing away now, preparing to flee in order to fight another day. You could simply let it go. That you've survived even this long is a testament only to your incredible luck. And a beast cornered makes more for a far more dangerous foe than one overconfident of victory. On the other hand, perhaps now is the moment you should press your luck. Lightning does not strike twice. Even disregarding its treasure, to present the head of this beast at Amethyston would win you instant renown. Your name would spread. Your reputation would begin to precede you. The creature has recovered itself now. It's tail is still and raised in the air, ready to strike. It's slowly inching back, but it's good eye is fixed on you, waiting for you to make your move.What do you want to do?>Let it go and check on Helmod>Press your luck and try to kill the creature>Attempt to negotiate with it>Write-inAnd roll d20
Rolled 7 (1d20)>>6066858>Let it go and check on HelmodDon't press our luck. I would say to slowly back towards our charge instead of letting the manticore out of our sight.
>>6066858>>Press your luck and try to kill the creatureGive it no quarter! We need to press our advantege and kill this thing for good.
Rolled 16 (1d20)>>6066858>>Press your luck and try to kill the creatureNo balls, no blue chips
Rolled 19 (1d20)>>6066858>Let it go and check on HelmodWe already have gold and a decent amount of silver, with another adventure already lined up. It wouldn't do for our renown to outpace our capabilities, could be dangerous even. Our ego will get us killed if it isn't kept in check.
Rolled 9 (1d20)>>6066858>Press your luck and try to kill the creature
Rolled 5 (1d20)>>6066858>Press your luck and try to kill the creatureBait out its tail attack and sever the barb from its end. This isn't about treasure or reknown. This is about a mad beast that tried to murder me. By the sounds of it, it has dishonored its master as well. It should be removed from this world.
Rolled 14 (1d20)>>6066858>Let it go and check on Helmod
>>6066858>Let it go and check on HelmodWe're going to get poisoned if we try something as it stands.
>>6066869>>6066879>>6066881>>6066885>>6066896>>6066901>>6066993>>6067019You lower your blood-soaked sword slightly. You have no intention of pursuing the violent end of this creature, your task first and foremost is to protect Helmod. If your reputation and fortunes should increase gradually as a consequence, so be it. You are not a gambler like your father. A breadwinner cannot afford to risk his life at the first opportunity. And so, as the beast slowly slinks away up the mountain, you do not give chase. Only once it is completely gone do you begin calling for Helmod. He had been hiding in a small culvert beneath a bridge and now emerges, more concerned for your safety than his own, blindly checking your face and arms for damage. You reassure him that you're fine. Now it's Helmod who wants to continue towards the village, and you who is too tired to do so. You drift off to sleep while describing the strange creature, the rush blood in your veins slowly fading into a dull, pleasant wash. When morning comes, you descend down the remainder of the trail into the village. Helmod is silent and pensive throughout. You take up lodgings again at Syla's house--who is delighted to see you, even without presenting her the promised gift. Helmod expresses his wish to stay here for a few weeks to rest and recover from the journey, as well as to ponder his next move. He gives you the rest of the silver, concluding the job early, citing that he can always pay for passage on the many trading carts that pass through here. You meet with the headman of the village (who serves as the moneychanger, in absence of one) who is willing to exchange 13 silver for each of your six gold coins. You could probably get more at Hobcroft or at Yngleyside, where silver is more abundant. The moneychangers at Yngleyside especially might be able to appraise the origin of these ancient coins. Otherwise, adding the dozen silver pieces you had already, and discounting the eighteen you sent home, you now have thirty staters and six gold coins. There's also the purple stone that you uncovered, which one of the miners in town tells you is a common find in the mountains and is usually sold to traders from Yngleyside when they come around in Autumn, representing interests in Yngley-above-the-Sea. When you ask if that means the stones are magical in nature (for why else would those sorcerer-scholars be interested?), the miner gives a non-committal shrug. The traders pay good silver, is all he can say.What do you want do?>Exchange the gold coins for silver>Keep the gold coins>Make a present of the purple stone to Syla>Keep the purple stone, and buy Syla a gift from the market>Head to Hobley to check on your family>Head directly to Yngleyside to follow up on the summons>Return to Hobcroft to look for more work>Write-in->
>>6067170=-=-=You have survived your first adventure! As per tradition, you may now name your character (keep it to the flavor of the names presented thus far).You also gain the following experience:>1 EXP for surviving the adventure>1 EXP for surviving the creature>1 EXP for roleplaying/write-ins>0 EXP for treasure recoveredYou may spend your experience to increase your hit die (5 EXP to go from 2HD -> 3HD), or save it for acquiring new abilities (given the appropriate training).
>>6067170>Keep the gold coinsWe already got a lot of silver coins, so we don't need to hurry to trade them. We can wait for a better exchange in either Hobcroft or Yngleyside.>Make a present of the purple stone to SylaI can't think of much we could find in the market that would make a better gift tham this stone. At least not we our current budget.>Head to Hobley to check on your familyFamily always comes first.>Character Name: AaronIs this name valid?
>>6067170>Keep the gold coins>Make a present of the purple stone to Syla>Write-inCheck on the prices of land here in town with the headman. Setting my family up with a small cottage and a few laying hens would increase the food security when I'm gone for longer periods of time. At least in the warmer months.>Head to Hobley to check on your family
>>6067171>you may now name your characterTorthrune
>>6067192Ubel
>>6067170>Keep the gold coinsAt least one, to awe people with our tales and to discover their origin.>Make a present of the purple stone to SylaIt's just an amethyst. Not to say it isn't magical, but the timing of us being around when the traders come may not work out depending on where our adventures take us. A gift should remain a gift.>Head to Hobley to check on your family>I'll also support checking land pricesTorthrune is fine, can't think of better while in a rush.
>>6067170>Keep the gold coins>Make a present of the purple stone to Syla>Head directly to Yngleyside to follow up on the summons>>6067171>Torthrune (or Torth for short)
>>6067170>Keep the gold coinsWe're not exactly hurting for cash now, and we can afford to wait>Make a present of the purple stone to SylaWe said we would.>Head directly to Yngleyside to follow up on the summons
>>6067230+1 to name
>>6067170>Keep the gold coinsKeep the purple stone, and buy Syla a gift from the market>Head directly to Yngleyside to follow up on the summons>>6067171>Character Name: Aaron
