Ari:
I'll get to Derisnospewn on a little shaggy pony, and leave it tied up where it's obvious that that's how I got here. I'll hang out in the pub looking knowledgeable about the local area.
Balron:
You jerk awake in your bed. Sour sweat, dwarfish sweat beads your flesh. A taste like bile and piss fills your mouth. Your breath rasps hoarsely, fiercely. The room is dark and still. The room is chill. You don't know what woke you, but as instincts urge you to your feet, a sense of terrible danger locks itself into your mind and for the first time in untold ages, you become infused with a true, pure, overwhelming flood of terror.
There's a shadow in the room's corner.
You're back upon your bed, pressed onto your back, trapped in this short, powerful form. The crude joints of the tavern's cot creak as the force bearing down upon you increases. Steadily. Implacably. Flesh to bone. Bones to organs. Blood pounds in your ears, your ribs scream with that exquisite vulnerability unique to creatures of the flesh. Pain stabs like whipping worms of splintered glass through your veins, etching a thousand crazed paths through your limbs. And still your sense of fear builds.
You cannot move. You cannot breathe. And the floor beside your cot groans as ... something draws near. You can see a darkness crawling, growing over the rough floorboards like a carpet of black mould ... like bruised flesh and creeping gangrene. The air bites at your skin with the frigidity of the darkness between the stars while a putrescent stench wends its way into your nostrils and gnaws at the back of your throat. All you can see now is darkness.
Then you hear a laugh.
"What's all this then, eh? Well - ain't you ugly!" exclaims a white duck jumping onto your chest. "I would've thought a wretch like yerself would've at least had some fangs or somethink. Yer just another one of many who reckons they can deliver the goods. Hah!"
The duck waddles closer over your sweat soaked shirt, clucking and chortling as it gets it's webbed feet tangled in your beard. Strain as you might, the oppressive force pinning you body remains, but the fear ... well that is draining away.
"There was a fake who could not wake who thought to raid the dungeon," sings the duck discordantly as it settles against your chin, "he went inside, but OH he died - now look at 'im shi-ver. Heh heh." Preening, the duck snickers to itself, then cocks its head an peers directly in your eye. For an instant, you think you catch a glimpse of magnificent demon hosts riding on dragons through seas of blood, but the duck sneezes abruptly and you blink furiously to clear your eyes of some stinging goop.
"No. I don't think yer'd be just shivering if you failed. Naaaa. I reckon yer'd be sitting in an ally in some twisted mortal form, hungry, old, weak, forgotten, pathetic. Cousin crow might crap on yer head while waiting to peck yer bones, and some kind hearted lass may toss yer a copper now and then. Mmmm. Maybe. What's it matter what you've achieved or who you are if yer can't get the job done? Now my missus, she's a sweet un, but she stings like a wasp when I forget to bring home the buttercups for the otters. Oooooo! She's a fight then, no doubt!" The duck giggles and nuzzles your lips. You think it smiles, then you feel a touch on your leg, a skittering across your ankles. "Must never disappoint the otter - oh no - but it's worse to disappoint the missus. Yes indeed. Just be sure, no matter what, you remember you buttercups, dwarf."
The skittering turns to stinging, like tiny snakes are working up your leg. The duck clucks carelessly, ruffles its chest with its beak and with a flourish, wrenches a doll from amongst its feathers. "Here we are then," it says, tucking the doll in beside your neck. "For sweet dreams and -" it digs about under its wing and with a sigh pulls free a puppy which whines and snuggles into your armpit, "for luck."
Glancing down at your legs which have become a unbearably itchy, the duck abruptly lurches to its feet, yanking at your beard. "Time to go! I'll be watching, ugly," it cries, and leaps into the air where it vanishes in a burst of feathers. You feel some of the pressure on your body relent, you can lift your head. A little breath trickles into your lungs, and you see your lower limbs stretched out in a pile of gore, flayed to the bone and crawling with worms. A rabbit giggles in the corner and a crow taps on the window's shutter.
In a rush, the pressure vanishes completely, and you're left with your useless legs in a deserted, freezing room. Shock is beginning to overtake your physical form. You're shivering and faint. You hear a step, and with the greatest effort, manage to turn your head. A superb pillar of darkness stands just beyond the reach of your strong arms. Its perfect, silent coldness beckons you. Its vast, inexplicable depths wither your soul.
You blink, and a serving maid is in place of the darkness, a puppy in her arms, a concerned look on her face. She leans forward and a symbol of the Virgin swings from her neck into your field of vision. "I heard you calling, sir," she says in a shrill voice. "Is there anything I can - oh no! Puggy!" The puppy has begun pissing. A stream of yellow fluid leaping from it to your bedding, drops scattering onto your flayed legs, burning like acid.
You scream - and awake. In a pool of urine. It's dawn.
~sick. yup. ah well - it passes the time. <Rachel smiles like an angel and heads off to write her resume.>
Hmmm.... I'm going to try and pinpoint the source of the dream and any meanings I can gather through both prayer and magic. I take it there is no doll and no puppy...
I will collect as much of the urine as I can in a container.
I will also search my memory (and any other available sources) for as much info on the icons of the dream - the duck, the crow, the buttercups, the otter, the wasp, the rabbit, the worms, the maid (virgin), the urine, the spouse.
Your Avatar appears confused after his nightmare.
Well - it was a confused piece of writing. Big E didn't intend every aspect to be significant. Damn these mortal minds! Seeking relevance in everything when one of the greatest part of life is that most of it is meaningless! You'd think an ex- demon would know better!
He casts various spells to try and pinpoint the source of the dream.
You feel the questing tendrils of your spell stretch to the very edges of creation. You begin to feel your mind stretching beyond even those boundaries, to a realm of turbulent darkness which sings to your very soul. Then something grasps your mind and the seeking fingers of your spell, twisting them cruelly before it casts your senses back down to the mortal plane with contemptuous ease.
You now have a pounding headache.
Then he collects as much of the urine as he can in a container
Ok - hadn't expected that <lol> If he ever tries to drink it, you or I will have to come up with a fun effect. i had intended it to be just his urine, but now - well that yucky effort deserves something more!
before praying for the meaning of the dream and it's icons, specifically - the duck, the crow, the buttercups, the otter, the wasp, the rabbit, the worms, the maid (virgin), the urine, the spouse.
He won't get much.
Let him pray till his knees ache with zero result - until he stands and sees on the floor beneath his legs, scratched into the floorboards, glyphs which, in the demon tongue, mean "Chosen".
That should swell his ego. -R
Gwen:
Timeline (I think) - Night before we all meet - from my info, Pot.Avater is in town at Dying Daemon Tavern and gets his dream. - I arrive at midday the day we're all due to meet and make friends with many plebs, sell good meat and fine pelts (salted but largely uncured), before heading into inn as sun is sinking to collect on drink offers from various local men who I've led on <chuckle> and to meet the other members of the party. - That night the diseased, rotting pig I'd entranced while bush-bashing finds the blessed water it's been so desperately seeking and tumbles into well where weight spell activates and drags it down to the bottom. Occurs when moon has set and all is still ... 2amish. [I am right in thinking that if it gets intercepted the only detectable magic will be the "poor piggy - find water" spell?] let's say, I won't be drinking any water from that well the next morning. A pig with a Big E enhanced disease would make one very ill. It'd be a shame if everyone filled their water skins from that well in the morning ... considering that the Black River is so nasty. Flux can be unpleasant while hiking. <evil chortle> I'll have to cultivate my half elf as bit of a wine fancier to avoid any questions.
La di la.
I think I'll leave other things untouched. Other PCs wandering about the village will probably notice this tall, gracefully curved and deliciously tanned ranger with long pale hair pulled into elvan foresting braids lounging in the village green on her grey-green cloak with her wares spread for sale and a silver pipe delicately clasped in her long fingers. Put it this way, she's a little hard to miss. <g> Looking forward to chit chat with other travellers.
-R
ps - I just realised what meat the inn cook might be serving us in our stews tonight. Jeepers! <snicker> Gees - hope s/he makes lots of gravy! Else damn Pot.avatar might realise what he's eating (I'm guessing he's had long pig before) Woops. heh heh.
Kaceubel:
Kaceubel followed the road to the gates of Trell. Trell at the headwaters of Celinadion River, last port on the river before the caravans have to travel overland Anarn. A stockade protected the town with 3 gates to control access. Kaceubel walked up to the western gate alone. The pair of guards supposedly screening incoming arrivals looked bored, traffic was light this time of year as it was the off season.
Kaceubel was challenged by one the guards. "Here, whatcha doing in Trell and who are ya?"
"Here 'es an Elf Kenneth." The guards looked remarkedly similar to each other, Kaceubel surmised they related, the one addressed as Kenneth was a little older and a little fatter than the other. Elves didn't really have a good reputation in this area, a long history of arrogance and misunderstandings.
"Hello good sirs. I am but a weary traveller and I would seek permission to enter the high halls of your fine town. Indeed I thought that I might even seek lodgings for the evening as I have heard of the generous reputation of the town of Trell and would seek to avail myself of the even more famous commodious lodgings boasted by your magnificent town. Tell me fine guardsmen, is it too far into the afternoon to find an evening meal and a place wherein I might slumber for the hours of darkness?"
"It wasn't when you started that sentence but it is now."
"Ere what's your name?"
"I am known as Kaceubel, and I am recently come from Moondeep in the heart of Greatwood the home of the high elves. I will need to take on provisioning for my further travels to the east of your magnificent town as I only plan to spend the evening in this excellent town once I have secured accommodations appropriate to my station, needs and resources. Would you care to recommend an abode wherein I might find first class quarters for the night?"
"If we tell you will you shut up and go away?" Kenneth was not looking more annoyed than he was bored.
"An no more of your carrying on neither, one word or else." He waved his pike menacingly.
Kaceubel drew himself up to his full height and looked down on the guardsmen. "Of course, all I require is directions to a lod..."
"Right, down this street here and turn right when you get to the market, sign of the lounging dog can't miss it. Now get and don't talk to me anymore."
Kaceubel attempted to thank Kenneth for his kind directions. "I see the reputation of this town is nor unfoun -"
"Shutup." Kenneth had his pike to Kaceubels throat and now looked a little panicked. "Just go, never, ever talk to me again. Uh uh, not a word."
Kaceubel slowly edged around the guards and, when he was clear of Kenneth, he started walking down the street. It was a town much like the other Human towns that Kaceubel had been in. Dirty, smelly, cramped and laid out in a haphazard fashion. They never took the time to get the layout of their towns right. Trell was no better, at least it had a sewer system, even if it was poorly designed and mostly clogged. Their were only a few men on the street, the afternoon crowd was retiring and the evening crowd had yet to arrive on the scene. Kenneth had said that the Lounging Dog couldn't be missed, as always, the human had been wrong. They could never give decent directions, no matter how easy and sensible they sounded they could always be counted upon to lead the unwary elf astray. Kaceubel didn't know where the dank alley had come from, it seemed like it snuck up on him when he his attention had slipped momentarily.
Ahead there were two humans standing in the middle of the alley, blocking the way. Behind Kaceubel another two humans entered the alley and blocked the way back. The two in front were poorly dressed and dirty, one had a length of wood dangling from one hand and the other had a long, nasty looking knife.
"Well, well, well. What 'ave we 'ere. You know, there's a ... Tax -"
"Heh heh heh." The one with the club laughed, it was a slow, stupid laugh, the kind of laugh that was missing just a large chunk of grey matter.
'"- and you'll have to pay it before you ... leave."
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, I wasn't aware that individual roads in this town had a tax, I was under the mistaken impression that the cover charge at the front gate covered the expenses of travelling on all the public thoroughfares in your fine town. Personally I have no problem with helping to pay for the maintenance of the roads and sewers for your poor town. Given the condition of your sewer system I can see that you would take any opportunity to gain funds for necessary repairs to your overburdened waste treatment system. How much is the usual amount given to your good enterprise?"
"Ere whut did he say guv'?"
"I don't know but it don't matter, right, listen up pointy ears, give everything yu got or we're gonna make you hurt ... a lot." He gestured with his knife, trying to look intimidating.
"Oh I'm sorry. I mistook you for properly designated municipal workers in pursuit of your official duties for town of Trell. If you seek funds perhaps you should seek gainful employment, I should think that people of your obvious skills could perhaps find a job somewhere in the field of carpentry I would think given the skills you display with a knife. Cook perhaps? Though you would have to improve your personal hygiene before most employers would look at you more than once."
"Look are you going to give us your money or what?" Knifeman was beginning to look desperate now, he was in danger of losing control of the situation and knew it.
"No." Kaceubel raised a hand and summoned a ball of light into existence just above his extended fingers.
"Bloody hell, he's a mage."
"You nuvva said 'nyting 'bout taking on a mage." Stickman was obviously unsettled by magic.
Kaceubel spoke again, using a touch to magnify his voice and make it more impressive. "Go and I will harm you not. If you stay I shall make you regret for a hand of days as your skin tries to separate itself from your more your private regions. In case you are in any doubt this will hurt a great deal so I would advise you to leave at your best speed. Now as I don't expect you to move quickly I shall give you to the count of ten to vacate this alley before I make your life a living hell. Go."
A wreath of green light escaped from Kaceubels sleeve and flowed up
around his hand into the ball of light, that now started to glow with an eerie
glow, the ball rose half a metre above Kaceubels hand. "One." The
two behind Kaceubel started to back away, edging back into the shadows.
Stickman looked over at Knifeman. "Guv?" "Two."
"Guv?" Knifeman was staring fixedly at the globe of sickly green
light.
"Three." With a small gesture Kaceubel sent the globe a short
distance towards Knifeman in a sudden jerk. The globe then started circling
around Kaceubels hand. The Knifeman took an abrupt step backwards and
then
recovered some but continued to stare at the globe.
"Four." Kaceubel was now starting to smile.
"Five."
"C'mon Guv. Let's go." Stickman grabbed Knifeman's arm and dragged him off out of the alley.
"Six, seven, eight nine ten." The green blobe popped, letting off a tiny wisp of smoke. Kaceubel chuckled, shrugged his cloak forward into a more comfortable position and walked on. Eventually Kaceubel found an Inn, the Reclining Fox. A two story building surrounded by an enclosed courtyard, it seemed to in good repair but there didn't seem to be many patrons. Kaceubel adjusted his pack, entered the courtyard and pushed his way into the bar area of the inn. Immediately a large rotund man bustled over to him.
"Hello good sir, welcome to the Sleeping Dog, everybody calls me Lotan. An elf like yourself would no doubt like a room, I've just the thing, be a shilling for three days, including breakfast but you'll have to find your own dinner."
"Sleeping Dog? But th-"
"The sign shows a Reclining Fox? Yes, it does, but the locals have never seen a fox, so the Sleeping Dog it is." Lotan was bubbly, he gave Kaceubel no chance to speak but managed to give no offence while doing so.
"Dinner is stew or Roast of the day, though between you and me I wouldn't look too close, 3 pennies for food and a beer and a table by the fire."
"Certainly, though I believe that the prices you quoted might perhaps be-"
"Be a little excessive? Ah, for accommodations like you'll find here 3 shillings is but a modest price. However because you have travelled far and it is the off season, I'll throw in a couple of baths and let you play for your dinners with that flute you have there. What do you say?"
"Alright I-"
"Done, let me just show you your rooms and get you settled in, dinner in an hour and then you can keep my guests entertained until they get to drunk to care."
"Thankyou I -"
"No, no. Don't thank me, a fair price and a fair service. I stand by my business and I have the best damn inn this side of Anarn. Now, if you will step this way I'll show you your quarters."
Kaceubel bathed, ate a generous dinner and proceeded to play for the other patrons until about midnight.