Troubled Past PBEM 84 - The Old Bard
Fabian Benavente
I think we can roleplay the current situation; I have more info coming depending on what
you do and on those pesky dice.
Questions, comments, and/or suggestions?
Enjoy!
Fabian
Troubled Past - An Eberron PBEM
http://www.geocities.com/cfbenave/Eberron/Eberron-Page2.htm
Angie Gignac
In answer....yes please!
Fabian Benavente
Do I sense a little violence in the group? :)
L8r,
Fabian
Troubled Past - An Eberron PBEM
http://www.geocities.com/cfbenave/Eberron/Eberron-Page2.htm
King, John
I'm not going to be able to hit this, heading out to Mississippi now, but if someone wants to write up something for Ember, feel free. Just have him snap his neck/beat his ass. Whatever, so long as Daram keeps quiet. People may think that's in evil move, but Ember is Lawful Neutral, and he would look at it as the demise of one schmuck for the safety of the others (non-schmucks).
Fabian Benavente
You've been talking about doing this for the past month and now you want someone else to
write it! I was hoping to read this and throughly enjoy it, maybe even have Ember have a
little flash back (you know, little kids hanging from rafters and other sick stuff in your
mind). :)
I, as the DM of this game, invoke my authoritative power and forbid anyone from writing
this scene. We can assume it happens and play around it but I want to read from John. :)
This will give something for John to think about while on vacation. :)
King, John
Without pause, Ember's thick-fingered hand snapped out and took Daram by the neck. Before anyone could protest, the warforged squeezed until flesh and blood splurted out between the construct's thick fingers. After a few seconds of spasming, Daram's body hung limply in the warforged's grip.
The others, relieved to be rid of the distraction, returned their focus to the village, deathly silent and still as to not draw any more attention to their location.
[ooc - now quit pressuring me! I've gotta go out of town! =P ]
Angie Gignac
[Ember-new]
Without pause, Ember's thick-fingered hand snapped out and took Daram by the neck. Before anyone could protest, the warforged squeezed until flesh and blood splurted out between the construct's thick fingers. After a few seconds of spasming, Daram's body hung limply in the warforged's grip.
The others, relieved to be rid of the distraction, returned their focus to the village, deathly silent and still as to not draw any more attention to their location.
Fabian Benavente
[Bryn-old]
Bryn had nearly squealed with surprise and fright when the abomination slithered from his
hut. She'd clapped her hand over her mouth, staring with wide, pale eyes at the horror
before her. Unfortunately, Daram had not lost his powers of speech, and his ill-timed
outburst threatened everything. The druid took a step towards the human, not knowing what
she intended, but Ember reacted faster.
[Ember-old]
Without pause, Ember's thick-fingered hand snapped out and took Daram by the neck. Before
anyone could protest, the warforged squeezed until flesh and blood splurted out between
the construct's thick fingers. After a few seconds of spasming, Daram's body hung limply
in the warforged's grip.
[Bryn-old]
The others, relieved to be rid of the distraction, returned their focus to the village,
deathly silent and still as to not draw any more attention to their location.
Bryn's other hand came up over her mouth as she watched the warforged deal with Daram. For
a moment there was utter stillness, utter silence, as the ir'Valerians digested what had
just happened. Then, one by one, they returned their gaze to the clearing, to see if their
hiding place had been discovered.
[DM-new]
The girl that had stopped dancing was as motionless as the ir'Valerians, her eyes still
focused beyond the village clearing trying to discern what it was she had heard. She
cocked her head sideways as if listening to some other noise as Daram kicked and thrashed
about as Ember squeezed the life out of him.
She called on one of the semi-nude males while her gaze never left the jungle. The only
saving grace for the group was that she was looking approximately 50' south of where the
group was. The male puffed his chest and smiled at being singled out by one of the
dancers. Instead of getting a fine female specimen to stimulate his body, he got some sort
of order from her. He frowned, picked up his blowgun from the ground, and walked straight
into where the female had indicated. His lackadasical attitude towards the command spoke
volumes; it was clear that this tribe was not used to having their dominance threatened.
The warrior did not expect to find anything and was already thinking of what he would once
he got back to the festivities. Still an order from the priestess was an order even if it
was in the middle of a celebration.
ooc: The warrior enters the jungle roughly about 110' away from the party.
kirs...@yahoo.com
Daram by the neck. Before anyone could protest, the warforged squeezed
until flesh and blood splurted out between the construct's thick
fingers. After a few seconds of spasming, Daram's body hung limply in
the warforged's grip.
RPG: Mel's eyes had widened when the foolish youth tried to force
them into attacking the natives head-on, and then grew wider still when
Ember took matters into hand. In a way only a warforged could. The
hobgoblin winced and forced himself to turn back to the village,
mouthing silent curses. If they had been spotted...
REF: The warrior did not expect to find anything and was already
thinking of what he would once he got back to the festivities. Still an
order from the priestess was an order even if it
was in the middle of a celebration.
RPG: Mel stared at the lone warrior sent to investigate and breathed a
sigh of relief to *not* see him heading straight for them. Perhaps they
might get away with Daram's outburst after all. Quite needlessly, Mel
motioned for the others to stay low and keep quiet. He kept his eyes on
the warrior, determined to lead him a merry chase around the jungle if
he actually spotted them or came too close for comfort...
TAG: Everyone interested...
NRPG: I must applaud John's bold move (As long as Fabian's not
going to dish out alignment penalties) but perhaps you could kill him
just a little instead of all the way?
-Jussi / Mel
Angie Gignac
Fabian Benavente
> NRPG: I must applaud John's bold move (As long as Fabian's not
> going to dish out alignment penalties) but perhaps you could kill him
> just a little instead of all the way?
[Fabian]
I pay little to no attention to alignments; I only see what makes sense for the character
to do. Making sense to me is having the right causes for a certain outcome. I'll be
hardcore and NOT let you do someting if you, the player, can't come up with the right
'in-game' motiviations.
I'm perfectly OK with Ember's actions.
[Angie]
Are we actually acting on John's post as if it were real? I thought it was a joke. Not
that I disapprove of "silencing" Daram, but surely this is a bit farfetched? Even for
Ember?
[Fabian]
I'm pretty sure John was NOT kidding. If someoe wants to contest Ember's actions (i.e,
have another character stop Ember), let me know and we can roll some dice.
I'll try to talk to John (Tom, if you do so before I do, please ask him) sometime today to
confirm, but I'm almost 100% certain that he meant it.
L8r,
Les Anderson
The kalashtar cut his eyes over at the stupid human when Daram shouted
and started forward. He didn't move his head, not wanting to
contribute to the disturbance, but collected himself and prepared to
stop the young man where he stood. No doubt leaving him frozen there
was a death sentence but having him charge out of the jungle into the
village was just as certain to lead to death- and more than Daram's
own.
Only the consideration that the females would no doubt hear and feel
the manifestation of his power gave him any pause. Lan delayed for
less than a heartbeat, prepared to reach out with his mental energy
with the release of his next breath.
And Ember beat him to the punch. Again. The warforged was altogether
too quick for comfort; twice now he had reacted physically before Lan
could react mentally. Its speed was frightening, even in light of his
own momentary hesitation. He had just been thinking that condemning
Daram to death was the correct solution- the life of one for the life
of many- but hadn't been prepared to act as resolutely as the
warforged had.
Frozen in place, he watched as one of the females sent a warrior off
into the jungle to search for them. Thankfully, blessedly, in the
wrong direction. And the male seemed to only want to perform a
desultory search. Good.
He concentrated on making his mental envelope as small, as quiet, as
possible while at the same time extending his senses to around the
group to feel for the sense of watchfulness and suspicion that he had
felt when the females had brushed his mind before.
Angie Gignac
[old]
The others, relieved to be rid of the distraction, returned their focus to the village,
deathly silent and still as to not draw any more attention to their location.
Bryn's other hand came up over her mouth as she watched the warforged deal with Daram. For
a moment there was utter stillness, utter silence, as the ir'Valerians digested what had
just happened. Then, one by one, they returned their gaze to the clearing, to see if their
hiding place had been discovered.
Bryn's hands returned to cover her mouth, physically holding in her screams the crazed warforged murder Daram. The human had acted rashly, it was true, but surely he didn't deserve death for caring about his friend! Do something! her mind screamed at her, but there was nothing she could do. Ember was clearly having one of his "episodes", and if she drew attention to herself now, then she would be next. Cursing her cowardice, Bryn waited for Leif to speak the words that would stop the warforged.
Fabian Benavente
confirmed Ember's intent on silencing and killing Daram. Ember may or may not have pangs
of regret later. The action stands as written unless challenged by another character, in
which case we'll roll some dice.
> ooc - Very well, if it's real, it's real. But I vote to have his last line
> stricken from the record, and I'm going to edit Bryn's reaction.
We can certainly do that.
BTW, I haven't forgotten about Bryn talking to a snake, but I'm not sure how things will
develop from this point so it's probably best to hold off on that for now.
Tom Andry
[Bryn / old]
Cursing her cowardice, Bryn waited for Leif to speak the words that would stop the warforged.
[Leif / new]
Leif felt the emotion well up in Daram before he acted. The man was an emotional wreck. He’d been through a lot, granted, but his absolute refusal to take into consideration his and their lives was beyond excuse. Ember started to squeeze as Leif heard the squeak. Turning, Leif spied Bryn, hands clasped to her mouth, eyes bulging. She was staring at him as if…
She expects you to stop him. Leiflet’s voice rang in his mind.
What? Why? Leiflet didn’t answer. Leif turned and faced her, staring directly into her eyes. He shrugged indicating that he didn’t understand. Bryn’s eye’s flicked over to Daram and Ember frantically. She continued to stare into his blank face as Daram’s lifeblood dripped out between Ember’s fingers. Tears welled up in questioning eyes. Leif whispered, “He made his choice.”
[tag Bryn]
Leif crawled over toward Flask patting Ember affectionately on the leg as he did so. The construct looked down at the shifter, expression unreadable. Leif smiled at him as he shook the last of the gore from him hand. Approaching Flask, Leif tapped him on the shoulder. “This spell of yours, you can use it to make yourself look like anyone?” The Hobgoblin looked at the shifter in confusion at first, realization dawning with a smile. Below, the male from the village continued his ascent toward the wrong location. With a little luck, the old man could be in and out of the village without even rousing suspicion. They could be on their way with the shard before anyone was the wiser.
[tag]
[if Flask agrees to the plan]
Leif added, his voice hushed, “Take Leiflet with you. If it goes south and you need a distraction, we’ll make sure they are looking anywhere but toward you.”
--
No virus found in this outgoing message.
Checked by AVG Free Edition.
Version: 7.1.405 / Virus Database: 268.10.8/415 - Release Date: 8/9/2006
Angie Gignac
[Leif old]
What? Why? Leiflet didn't answer. Leif turned and faced her, staring directly into her eyes. He shrugged indicating that he didn't understand. Bryn's eye's flicked over to Daram and Ember frantically. She continued to stare into his blank face as Daram's lifeblood dripped out between Ember's fingers. Tears welled up in questioning eyes. Leif whispered, "He made his choice."
[Bryn new]
Bryn couldn't understand Leif's refusal to help. If she understood correctly, Ember wasn't in control when the other personality took over; it wasn't a choice at all. Unless...Daram? Daram made his choice? Which meant that Ember wasn't having an episode at all, he meant to kill the boy. And Leif approved. Glancing quickly at the faces of her friends, she realized that most of them, while perhaps a little surprised, didn't disapprove of Ember's actions. Bryn felt a second scream welling. Closing her eyes, she bit down on the sound until it died.
STOP! Now was not the time for remorse or doubt. They had a job to do, and lives were on the line. Bryn swallowed her horror and took a few steadying breaths. Dashing tears from her eyes, she spared a moment to be grateful that her animals were several hundred yards up the path. If they'd made any noise, would Ember have dispatched them as quickly?
When she was sure that she had herself under control, Bryn turned back to the others. Leif glanced her way, clearly concerned that she was going to make a scene. She managed a small nod in his direction, letting him know that she wouldn't repeat their earlier fight. At least not at the moment. With an act of will, she turned her attention to the scout, and realized how precarious their position was.
kirs...@yahoo.com
anyone?" The Hobgoblin looked at the shifter in confusion at first,
realization dawning with a smile. Below, the male from the village
continued his ascent toward the wrong location. With a little luck, the
old man could be in and out of the village without even rousing
suspicion. They could be on their way with the shard before anyone was
the wiser.
RPG: Mel thought it over and grimaced, showing a set of crooked but
sharp teeth. "Can you guarantee the man never returns to spoil my
act? Can you do it without a single sound, so the rest won't come
looking? If so, I can try. But if they start asking me what I saw and
they won't like my accent..."
It might work, but it was risky. Not that that bothered the changeling
overmuch. But were he accepted back as the native, would he be allowed
to explore? Or would he be expected to take part in the ritual? For if
that was the case, he wasn't confident he could fool the others for
long; if one trampled the next person's foot in a ritual dance
because he didn't know the steps, there would be inconvenient
questions he couldn't begin to answer.
He might end up amidst angry natives in his birthday suit. Not the best
way to begin a raid.
TAG: Everyone interested...
NRPG: So, Mel understand the natives' language after a fashion... I
need some odds, please. What kind of a chance Mel thinks he would have
of getting out a few acceptable comments right enough not to be
considered overly suspicious.
-Jussi / Mel
Fabian Benavente
> need some odds, please. What kind of a chance Mel thinks he would have
> of getting out a few acceptable comments right enough not to be
> considered overly suspicious.
OK, chances...
The dancing seems to be more or less 'free-form'; it isn;t like they are doing the
'Macarena' or anyting like that. :)
There also does not seem to be much talking going on and the only intereaction between the
natives seems to be when one of the girls 'touches' one of the males, in which case the
male goes into an ecstasy of sorts and writhes on the ground.
So chances are pretty good that Mel could 'mingle' at the party. There are howver no one
going into the caves at this time so it'd be difficult for him to do anything but
participate in the festivity.
VACATION
I'm going on vacation this coming Tuesday and won't be back until Wednesday August 23,
2006. I'll be out of the country with the family so don't count on me having any internet
access (I may though). The game officially goes on hold until I get back.
What I would like is to have enough of a 'plan' to recap once I get back.
King, John
Without pause, Ember's thick-fingered hand snapped out and took Daram by the neck. Before anyone could protest, the warforged squeezed until flesh and blood splurted out between the construct's thick fingers. After a few seconds of spasming, Daram's body hung limply in the warforged's grip.
[Ember-new]
[cue LOST flashback music]
994 YK
41 days before the Day of Mourning
[ooc - if anyone has a date, it would be much appreciated, I couldn't find one]
Sharn Catacombs
In the dark twisting passageways below the bustling towers of Sharn, six warforged paced as quietly as they could muster one behind the other. The followers of the leader stepped in the first's footsteps so as to mask their numbers and kick up a minimum of dust.
In the depths, the passageways were dark, save for a dim orange that stretched out from far off sconces spread too far apart and from above where cracks in the ceiling drew in random light from factories or subbasements that existed above this level. A rank mustiness flooded the aromatic sensors, and the scurrying of rats and an assortment of carrion creatures echoed down the myriad of hallways.
At the next branching of the tunnels, the leader held up its hand and all behind halted in quick succession. Rotating only its head, it turned its flaring orange eyes to the warforged behind it - the warforged that would be known one day as "Ember."
"Red 2, scout right. Take 4, 6," the leader whispered. As the two toward the rear stepped out of line to follow Red 2, the leader continued. "3, 5, follow."
"Aye," Red 2 spoke in its gravelly soft tone. With its fingers, it motioned silently to the others that it was ready to continue. Upon their ready signals, Red 2 turned and began its slow but steady trek down the right passage.
As the living constructs passed in relative silence down the corridor, Red 2 reviewed its mission. Combat Stratagem - Mission 23C - Tunnel Warfare, Search and Destroy. Two teams, Red and Blue, ordered by their trainers to find each other's base hidden away in distant pockets of the catacombs. Teams were sorted by eye color. Reds, oranges and yellows were assigned to Red Team, greens, blues and purples to the Blue Team. Somehow the teams always sorted evenly, as though the random distribution of eye colors from the forge knew just what to create to keep these war games even.
Six warforged from each team would defend. Six warforged would hunt. Red 1's uninspired decision placed Red 7 through Red 12 at the base. Red 2 applauded the efficiency of Red 1's decision, allowing the Red Team to mobilize in mere seconds from the game's onset. 2's only criticism was that the assignment placed both artificers in the offensive team, leaving the defenders without a means of support. Red 2 would keep its criticism to itself though. Squad commanders gave the leaders, the rest merely followed and did not question.
The passageway bent severely back to the right, taking them back into a seldom used tunnel, where water dripped off stalactites into shallow pools below. The team continued until they dead-ended at a hollowed-out room, empty save for a small table in the back. Leaning back against the wall on top of the table stood three monstrous ivory tapers nearly six-inches thick at their bases and nearly three feet tall. They had to have been much higher than that at some point, for a wealth of pale wax had pooled on the table surface and then cascaded onto the stony floor below.
Red 2 turned, the red glow of its eyes outshining the candles behind it. With a spinning motion and a rigid pointing, it gestured to the others to turn around and make haste back to the passage fork. With any luck, they could catch up with the others before any skirmishes began.
They started off at a trot, but as they neared the intersection, the Red Evens slowed, their footfalls becoming much softer. They took a right turn at the intersection, to follow the left passageway the Red Odds had taken earlier. For soldiers unseasoned, they made little sound as they progressed. Their hums and their steps seemed rhythmic, blending in with the machinations and the loud bellows from the over-head factories that pulsed and reverberated throughout the halls.
It was not long before they found the others. The hallway ahead of them opened up into a massive cavern that seemed to drop away into the dark. Red 5, one of the artificers, spied them coming from behind. It hunkered low and moved off the wall toward Red 1. When it reached the leader, the artificer tugged on the leaders toe and pointed back towards the others.
Red 1 motioned them to advance slowly and to hug the wall. It then held up two thick fingers and pulled them in toward itself, motioning to Red 2 to drop to ground and advance to its position.
Red 2 complied, dropping to all fours, spreading its limbs out like a spider missing half its legs, and crawled silently towards the edge of the chamber. Sure enough, the cavern sloped down, but the lighting was not nearly as poorly-lit as Red 2 had thought it might be. The room, if it could be called that, was vast in size - nearly one hundred paces deep, and its floor bowl-shaped. Shadows of stalagmites flickered against the back wall, cast by a fire nearly two-thirds across the distance of the room. Near the fire and spaced about the room, were the Blue Team guardians. Three warforged stood around the camp site, standing guard of the Blue Team's urn, the target that had to be broken to declare Red Team the winner of the game.
The other three stood in the center of the chamber, spaced apart, each keeping watch in the dim light on the three passageways that opened up into the room. Rather than space themselves far apart from each other and the support of the group, they held themselves in a relatively tighter group to reinforce their ranks, forfeiting improved visibility of the passageways.
Easing back from edge of the cavern, Red 1 shuffled and turned around to address the troops. "Red 2, 4, 5. Take right, hug wall to right passage. Create diversion, draw forces. 1, 3, 6 sweep left, then rush camp." The squad commander had paired Red 2 with both of the artificers. While they could make a fair bit of noise and light, they would be ill-suited for combat. Red 2 would have to provide cover for the artificers as long as it could. The commander's team however had three capable warriors that should be able to rush the camp and reach their objective. In analysis of the plan, Red 2 was the only troop that faced considerable danger, while their probability of success seemed high. All in all, a well-formed plan.
Red 5 did not seem to agree though. Its yellow eyes flickered as it anxiously looked at the others. "We should not split up!" the artificer whispered urgently. "All circle around, cross from the back where no guard is posted, where we need cross the least amount of distance."
The warforged leader grabbed Red 5 by the shoulder, lurching it forward so that their foreheads nearly clanked together. "No debate. We split. Prepare to maneuver."
"No, wait!" Red 5 pleaded. "We don't have sufficient infusions to defend against attack by the guardians. Strength in numbers!" Red 2 looked to Red 4 to gauge its reaction. Red 4 merely shrugged, maintaining its silence.
Red 1 raised its free arm, preparing to strike some sense into the artificer, when all heard a rapid clanking growing rapidly louder, as though something was crossing the floor at great speed. The leader released its grip on the caster, and turned to allow its auditory sensors to better discern the origin of the sound.
Released from its commander's grip, Red 5 struggled to its feet in haste. With panic in its voice, the artificer begged of the others, "Make haste, they know we're here, we should retr-" Before it could finish its cowardly plea, its head exploded in a shower of viscous vascular fluid.
The others turned, frozen in place, staring at what was arguably the most dangerous pair of creatures to be found in these catacombs. Pacing back before the warforged squad, its razor-sharp claws clicking against the hard rock floor, was a hulking black metal-plated great cat. The fierce beastly construct stood nearly 5-feet tall at the tip of its sleek domed head. Its eyes radiated an intense yellow-white, as bright as the poisonous frogs found in the Khraal Rainforest. On its back rode the master trainer of the secretive underground Sharn Forge, a human known only as The Professor. The man seemed frail and impossibly old, but the small human's thin-haired skull encased one of the sharpest, and if rumors were to be believed, wickedest minds in all of Eberron.
"Red Team, Red 5 gave you all away, and has suffered the consequences. Irresponsibility and cowardice are never rewarded on the battlefield, nor will they be rewarded here. Had this been true conflict, your position would have been revealed, and your life essences forfeit, to be returned to the forge. Insubordination has no place among the warforged, no place among our troops. It will be met with death, one way or another. Either the squad will eliminate it in its own ranks, or your enemies will do it for you, and be uncompromising in their exacting of punishment." The old man spoke coolly, only a hint of contempt seeping into his words. "I should make spare parts of all of you for allowing that construct the time and ability to give up your lives so carelessly. As it is, I have orders to fill, and I can not afford to waste time with freshly forged. So, a compromise must be made." The man held out both palms towards the group of squad from the top of the metal beast. With the spitting of two foreign words, The Professor fired a series of pulses into Red 1's chest. The commander's body spasmed and became still. An eerie silence fell over the group as they all watched smoke waft off their squad leader's body.
The human broke the silence, clapping his hands together with satisfaction. "There, lesson learned, I trust. No mercy for the craven, no mercy for their commander." With a kick of his heels, The Professor spurred his construct mount forward, drawing closer to the group. He scanned the lot of them, identifying each by both eye-color and ghulra. Save for one, the one without the ghulra, Red 2. He steered the mount directly toward this massive construct, which stood motionless as its master approached.
"Red 2," the old man said with a faint hint of a smile. "You are now 'Red 1.' Do not fail your squad."
"Aye, Master," the warforged acknowledged with an exaggerated nod. Red 1 would not make the mistake its predecessor had. No, lesson learned indeed.
[/end flashback]
Fabian Benavente
Here's a turn so far since I don't think there was concensus on what to do.
The options are:
a) Mel infiltrates the natives (how?) while the warrior is silenced/led away/etc. (how?);
b) Bryn sneaks into cave (how?);
c) a combinaton of above; or
d) other plan (what?)
Good to be back; now I have to catch up on the other two games. :)
Game on!