Hey @Skatan ! He was a senior guard and Patrol captain. Not really a very high rank in Patrol, frankly, guys like Gressick are ranked way higher. Basically, Nareth is permitted to command a small squad of soldiers of 10-20 men. We did not really discussed any rank system and patrol structure before.
I think, you can, but Colden the Lorekeeper is ranked higher, so you can call him "hey, you" , "captain", "captain Nareth" or just "Nareth". I think it totally corresponds the common etiquette and subordination.
I think, you can, but Colden the Lorekeeper is ranked higher, so you can call him "hey, you" , "captain", "captain Nareth" or just "Nareth". I think it totally corresponds the common etiquette and subordination.
OK thanks. Sometimes it's just cool to add a "Junker Nareth" or "Meister Nareth" or "Yeoman Nareth" or whatever because it feels contextual to add a title when being more formal or more genuine, so that's why I asked. I changed twice in my last RP post, hehe.. I couldn't decide what to write But anyways, let's leave the subject so we don't clog up the thread with spoiler posts
The party makes their way to the closest passageway, the one by the shattered window with the broken door.
As you leave the room, you pass close by the circular booth in the center of the giant hall. There is a soft DING! DING! DING! from each of the 3 square plates in Colden’s pocket. Another soft, answering BONG! sounds from somewhere on the circular booth, and a faint light begins to emanate from a spherical looking object on the counter.
A beam of light shaped like a cone radiates from the sphere and lands on the floor. Up out of the floor rises an elf with a bright, dazzling smile. Light emanates from her, illuminating the area, and she waves kindly in your general direction in greeting with an open, close-fingered palm.
She is wearing a strange checkered uniform in colors matching the wall inscription outside, though the red and blue are far deeper and brighter. She has long flowing blonde hair and a strange red and blue hat on her head, patterned similarly. On the hat are the words, in bright white, “Cora’s Sugar Manufacturing”.
“A messenger from the gods!” whispers Garta in shock and reverence as the elf pop into existence.
“Welcome to Cora’s Sugar Manufacturing Company, and thank you for taking our self guided tour!” she says in a bright singsong voice. You notice that she isn’t quite looking directly at you, but rather towards the main entrance. She spreads her arms in welcome and looks around, flashing her bright smile, as though inviting a large group of eager people into her personal abode.
“We know that as you learn about our nearly fully autonomous creation process, made possible by our partnership with Lelelinicon’s Golems Incorporated, you’ll truly appreciate the effort and dedication that goes into bringing you the most delicious treats this side of Bladenfire!
“If you have any questions, please save them for our trained staff members in the gift shop. And remember, don’t interfere with the Lelelinicon Golem duties! As Lelelinicon always says, a lonely golem is a happy golem!”
She flashes another dazzling smile and turns away to the rest of the hall, indicating with an open, close-fingered palm. “This is the great hall, modeled originally after historical Queen Cora’s Palace, the great Queen our company was named after. As you may know, Queen Cora was among the elves’ greatest...”
Suddenly the light flickers and the elf lady disappears. The light spits on and off a few times, and the elf appears and disappears intermittently. Every time she reappears, she begins speaking again, “Welcome to Cora’s—” but the sentence gets cut off. When she reappears, she begins again, but is cut off more quickly, until she gets stuck in a stuttering pattern.
Then the light goes out completely and the elf and her stuttering disappear. The ensuing darkness seems much more oppressive and heavy without the light from the sphere.
The sphere on the booth begins to shake. Light, buried deep within it, begins to leak from the edges. The rattling from it shaking on the hard booth surface echoes around the hall and magnifies. The sound is harsh and loud and grates on your insides.
Then, without warning, the sphere bursts into an explosion of flame and shrapnel, cutting into your ranks.
The shrapnel cuts a swath through your ranks, smashing and pinging off the walls amidst your screams of surprise and pain.
Jirt screams and falls to the ground, a piece of burning shrapnel buried in his chain mail at his shoulder.
Garta falls to the ground as Jirt falls, crying out as her leg twists against the hard stone floor.
Rolling like an acrobatic ninja, Lagrord rolls backwards behind a pile of debris unharmed.
Nareth, ever suspicious of magical EVIL, already had his shield at the ready. He dives in front of Colden, protecting him from the majority of the blast. Both Colden and Nareth are unharmed.
Kefto and Sus’Ann were near the back of the group and escape unharmed.
The nameless gnome, however, having scampered up front (for a reason @Rik_Kirtaniya will narrate) took the majority of the blast, despite his small size. Large chunks of shrapnel have lodged in his chest and his face and arms are severely burned. Blood flows freely from his wounds and quickly soaks the floor.
Party status:
Sus’Ann, Lagrord, Nareth: uninjured
Colden: uninjured during this encounter (but still slightly injured on his shoulder from the tree-fall yesterday)
Kefto: uninjured during this encounter (but still slightly injured from his head wound yesterday)
Garta: yesterday’s injury made slightly worse by this encounter
Jirt: injured
Nameless gnome: severely injured, perhaps close to death
Sus'Ann looks the stattering image of the elf with confusion, but her confusion goes away instantly with the explosion. She hurries to the gnome to stabilize his state and cast a healing on him.
"Nareth look for other possible explosive things please!"
If the gnome is out of near death state she starts to tend the others.
As Sus'Ann inspects the gnome's condition her face became from worrying to a strict emotionless mask. She has treated many soldiers who have been wounded in such a serious manner similar to the nameless one. A victim of such trauma doesn't use to live more than a few hours, even with the limited magical healing the dwarven women can provide. The best she could ever do in the field is make the injured comfortable, and she will do that this time with their short-time companion too.
However, as she cast healing magic upon him, Sus'Ann's eyes widenes and she let out a little gasp, as something which is obviously not the doing of her magic happens...
Sus’Ann’s face is grim as she quickly and skillfully treats the likely fatal wounds on the gnome. The smoke hangs over the scene like a specter, and Jirt’s groans of pain echo in the hall eerily.
The gnome’s stomach has been lacerated and his lungs punctured. His face has been burned beyond recognition, though his eyes were mostly protected by the goggles. One of his arms has been nearly severed by a huge chunk of shrapnel. He is breathing, but just barely. It sounds more like a gurgle than the draw of life.
Sus’Ann casts a healing magic upon the gnome, but it is like nicely asking a horde of orcs to stop pillaging the countryside (no offense Lagrord). Such minor magic is for cleaning infections, stitching cuts, and setting broken bones.
Just then, the gnome coughs up a spout of blood. A strange, gurgling, squelching sound comes from inside his torso and, of their own accord, bits of shrapnel and glass pop out of his flesh with loud sucking sounds. They land on the stone floor with a clatter.
His arm, without any assistance from Sus’Ann, seems to pull itself together. The flesh mends itself with loud spitting noises, and the burns on his face slowly disappear to be replaced with new (though wrinkly) skin.
The gnome sits up suddenly, with giant holes and burns on his robes. He looks perfectly hale and perfectly mad.
Sus'Ann stood up dumbfounded seeing the regenerating gnome.
"Well, it seems my help is not needed here. That must have still hurt however. Are you well enough?"
Colden gives Nareth a huge, friendly slap on his arm. A sign of "thank you!" and camaraderie. "I am in your debt, friend."
He then quicky rushes over and watch in awe the healing powers of the strange gnome. He quickly takes up his note book and quillpen and scribbles a few quick notes on what he sees - Because he has never seen anything like it before! "This have to be documented, what God is granting this gnome such boons?" he asks himself as he writes.
"Sus'ann, the gnome seem to have greater powers than any of us. Let's see if you can help Jirt and Garta instead."
Colden also stands up and address the group as a whole;
"I have never seen any magic like this, nor read about it.. this is strange workings in the process, but it seems more like malfunctioning mechanics than intentional. Let's be wary for the future and whenever we next meet a stuttering elf Projected Image, let's take a safe distance from it!"
Getting up, the gnome stares at the party in mild horror and bewilderment, as if not finding something that he was looking for. He speaks in his same old squeaky voice, and his unmistakably insane tone.
"Where did they go? Oooooh noooooooo! Foolish minions, why did you call me back here? I was having such a nice time with all those pretty elven lassies and all those hot sweetrolls! Where did they go? Who tipped them off? You!", the gnome points at the first person before him, who happens to be Colden, "You kidnapped all of them, didn't you? Where did you put them? WHERE? WHERE!"
The gnome hops up in his agitation, and then looks at the large holes and burns on his robes.
"Well, those lassies were sure very eager about me. It is nothing unexpected though..." he comments in a manner deep in scholarly wisdom.
Someone so obviously held in high regards by some God should not be trifled with or laughed at, Colden thinks to himself while he chokes down on the laughter that bubbles up in him from the gnomes unrealistic comments.
"Apologies, master Gnome, but I have no elven lassies nor any sweetrolls. Perhaps you dreamt about them while you were passed out? No worries, now you are back here, whole and hearty!"
Colden then proceeds to walk over to Garta and Jirt to see if there's anything he can do to help. He's an old scholar and has read his fair share of tomes on healing practicalities, but never have he tried them practically. He hopes Sus'ann can take care of their bodies and instead focus on their spirits.
Colden starts to solemnly sing a song of rejuvenation, of blossoming trees, grassy hills and young love. Perhaps it will help his friends' mood, if nothing else.
"What? Are you serious? You do not know where they are?" The gnome sounds demoralised.
"Nevermind, I will find them out soon, and you, yes you! You will help me find them! I know you want to help me, because I know that you know that you will be rewarded. Yes!"
The gnome adds delightfully: "Oooooo, this will be the best picnic trip ever!"
He then notices Jirt who's injured.
"Ah, I see the sword weilding minion has been overpowered. Let's see if we have something to bring him back up!"
He brings out a small purple pouch with glittering stars on it, loosens its strings, and tries to pull out something.....
Sus'Ann, as she planned, begins to treat Jirt's wound. She cleans it with magic and patches it up. He is a healthy soldier, used to battle wounds, and so can continue despite the pain and discomfort.
Lagrord helps Garta to her feet. "Thank you so much for your help," she says to the half-orc, surprising respectful despite her gruff demeanor. She does not appear to be any more seriously hurt than she was, though her leg does pain her more now.
The gnome reaches into the purple pouch and pulls out...
...a small plate that looks very similar to the red ones in Colden's pocket, except this one is yellow and has a golden chain on it. Written on it are the words:
Colden's music fills the air of the great hall as the party recovers from the explosion and prepares for the next phase of their journey. It seems fitting in this place, somehow. The walls and broken structures, long empty and devoid of life and joy, seem to relax into friendliness. Amidst the song, though your caution is not lessened, you no longer see the room as foreboding with heavy darkness.
Instead, you see it for what it truly is: a long-forgotten place of rejoicing and commerce, bustling with peaceful trade and the joy of eating sweets. Within each of you, even Garta and Nareth, grows the understanding, as Colden weaves his mild bardic magic into the song, that this place was once a haven for many people.
Food scarcity is a cause of such strife and hatred amongst the people of Winter's Valley. You think on the words of the spirit or angel or whatever that appeared.
"...made possible by our partnership... you’ll truly appreciate the effort and dedication that goes into bringing you the most delicious treats this side of Bladenfire!"
Could it be that once food was a means of bringing people together in partnership long ago, before the Darkening?
The idea is foreign to all of you. Food is a sacrifice that must be earned, or face the wrath of a heartless, death-filled winter. You can scarcely comprehend it.
Now seems like a good time for you to break your fast, and you eat while Sus'Ann patches up Garta's mild sprain and checks her break.
Colden's song reverberates through the cavern, lightening it and amplifying the noonday cloud-shine outside. When the music dies out, it finds you all more enlivened and ready, with full bellies, to get through "Coras Ugar Facrin" or, as you now know it, "Cora's Sugar Manufacturing" to complete your mission on the other side of the mountain.
After eating and drinking, Colden stands up and walks around a bit to freshen up his rusty joints. He strokes out any creases in his clothes and dust them off. One should always make sure one looks as good as possible, something he learned during his bardic studies. During their break he took some time to expand his notes on the Gnome's remarkable recovery and also wrote down notes for his memory about this building and it's contents. A segment he intends to expand on back in the comfort of Astorwind. He's sure there's no book about this place in the Royal library. He picks up the red cards and inspect them again trying to decipher their meaning and purpose..
Colden searches his brain for any information relating to the use of the devices.
But try as he might, he has no practical experience in this area. They appear as semi-transparent red plates with lines inside of them. They share he exact same pattern, but it is not in a language he has ever heard of. He’s not convinced that the patterns even are a language. They may be runes, arcane symbols, or just pretty decorative lines for all he knows.
Does the party continue their exploration into the other room? Is there anything you guys would like to do before I move the story along?
The gnome holds up the yellow plate with the golden chain, and looks at it with a questioning frown. After deciding that it is yet another toy, useless to his purposes, he says:
"Now, which of you Minions want another shiny little toy?"
Ugh.. I missed the thread a bit, sorry guys, was a bit busy these two days. I am going to catch up with the story a bit, as lot has happened. I am glad my dude survived, yay!.. Well, and your characters too, i should admit
Colden looks appreciatively on Lagrord for taking the yellow card and gives him a nod. "Good thinking, my boy." He thinks to himself.
"So, is everyone ok? We should continue what we started and check out the remaining passage ways before we head down the main hallway. If nothing else, let's make sure nothing can surprise us from behind as we move further into the depths."
I think this is the third time I try to move us into the next passageway @mashedtaters!
Comments
Thanks, then I'll call him Captain Nareth?
OK thanks. Sometimes it's just cool to add a "Junker Nareth" or "Meister Nareth" or "Yeoman Nareth" or whatever because it feels contextual to add a title when being more formal or more genuine, so that's why I asked. I changed twice in my last RP post, hehe.. I couldn't decide what to write
"No dilly-dallying, Minions! We have got lots to explore. Play with your toys, as you wish, but keep moving! Arriba! Arriba!"
As you leave the room, you pass close by the circular booth in the center of the giant hall. There is a soft DING! DING! DING! from each of the 3 square plates in Colden’s pocket. Another soft, answering BONG! sounds from somewhere on the circular booth, and a faint light begins to emanate from a spherical looking object on the counter.
A beam of light shaped like a cone radiates from the sphere and lands on the floor. Up out of the floor rises an elf with a bright, dazzling smile. Light emanates from her, illuminating the area, and she waves kindly in your general direction in greeting with an open, close-fingered palm.
She is wearing a strange checkered uniform in colors matching the wall inscription outside, though the red and blue are far deeper and brighter. She has long flowing blonde hair and a strange red and blue hat on her head, patterned similarly. On the hat are the words, in bright white, “Cora’s Sugar Manufacturing”.
“A messenger from the gods!” whispers Garta in shock and reverence as the elf pop into existence.
“We know that as you learn about our nearly fully autonomous creation process, made possible by our partnership with Lelelinicon’s Golems Incorporated, you’ll truly appreciate the effort and dedication that goes into bringing you the most delicious treats this side of Bladenfire!
“If you have any questions, please save them for our trained staff members in the gift shop. And remember, don’t interfere with the Lelelinicon Golem duties! As Lelelinicon always says, a lonely golem is a happy golem!”
She flashes another dazzling smile and turns away to the rest of the hall, indicating with an open, close-fingered palm. “This is the great hall, modeled originally after historical Queen Cora’s Palace, the great Queen our company was named after. As you may know, Queen Cora was among the elves’ greatest...”
Suddenly the light flickers and the elf lady disappears. The light spits on and off a few times, and the elf appears and disappears intermittently. Every time she reappears, she begins speaking again, “Welcome to Cora’s—” but the sentence gets cut off. When she reappears, she begins again, but is cut off more quickly, until she gets stuck in a stuttering pattern.
Then the light goes out completely and the elf and her stuttering disappear. The ensuing darkness seems much more oppressive and heavy without the light from the sphere.
The sphere on the booth begins to shake. Light, buried deep within it, begins to leak from the edges. The rattling from it shaking on the hard booth surface echoes around the hall and magnifies. The sound is harsh and loud and grates on your insides.
Then, without warning, the sphere bursts into an explosion of flame and shrapnel, cutting into your ranks.
Jirt screams and falls to the ground, a piece of burning shrapnel buried in his chain mail at his shoulder.
Garta falls to the ground as Jirt falls, crying out as her leg twists against the hard stone floor.
Rolling like an acrobatic ninja, Lagrord rolls backwards behind a pile of debris unharmed.
Nareth, ever suspicious of magical EVIL, already had his shield at the ready. He dives in front of Colden, protecting him from the majority of the blast. Both Colden and Nareth are unharmed.
Kefto and Sus’Ann were near the back of the group and escape unharmed.
The nameless gnome, however, having scampered up front (for a reason @Rik_Kirtaniya will narrate) took the majority of the blast, despite his small size. Large chunks of shrapnel have lodged in his chest and his face and arms are severely burned. Blood flows freely from his wounds and quickly soaks the floor.
Sus’Ann, Lagrord, Nareth: uninjured
Colden: uninjured during this encounter (but still slightly injured on his shoulder from the tree-fall yesterday)
Kefto: uninjured during this encounter (but still slightly injured from his head wound yesterday)
Garta: yesterday’s injury made slightly worse by this encounter
Jirt: injured
Nameless gnome: severely injured, perhaps close to death
"Nareth look for other possible explosive things please!"
If the gnome is out of near death state she starts to tend the others.
However, as she cast healing magic upon him, Sus'Ann's eyes widenes and she let out a little gasp, as something which is obviously not the doing of her magic happens...
The gnome’s stomach has been lacerated and his lungs punctured. His face has been burned beyond recognition, though his eyes were mostly protected by the goggles. One of his arms has been nearly severed by a huge chunk of shrapnel. He is breathing, but just barely. It sounds more like a gurgle than the draw of life.
Sus’Ann casts a healing magic upon the gnome, but it is like nicely asking a horde of orcs to stop pillaging the countryside (no offense Lagrord). Such minor magic is for cleaning infections, stitching cuts, and setting broken bones.
Or for soothing the soon dead in their passing...
His arm, without any assistance from Sus’Ann, seems to pull itself together. The flesh mends itself with loud spitting noises, and the burns on his face slowly disappear to be replaced with new (though wrinkly) skin.
The gnome sits up suddenly, with giant holes and burns on his robes. He looks perfectly hale and perfectly mad.
"Well, it seems my help is not needed here. That must have still hurt however. Are you well enough?"
He then quicky rushes over and watch in awe the healing powers of the strange gnome. He quickly takes up his note book and quillpen and scribbles a few quick notes on what he sees - Because he has never seen anything like it before! "This have to be documented, what God is granting this gnome such boons?" he asks himself as he writes.
"Sus'ann, the gnome seem to have greater powers than any of us. Let's see if you can help Jirt and Garta instead."
Colden also stands up and address the group as a whole;
"I have never seen any magic like this, nor read about it.. this is strange workings in the process, but it seems more like malfunctioning mechanics than intentional. Let's be wary for the future and whenever we next meet a stuttering elf Projected Image, let's take a safe distance from it!"
"Where did they go? Oooooh noooooooo! Foolish minions, why did you call me back here? I was having such a nice time with all those pretty elven lassies and all those hot sweetrolls! Where did they go? Who tipped them off? You!", the gnome points at the first person before him, who happens to be Colden, "You kidnapped all of them, didn't you? Where did you put them? WHERE? WHERE!"
The gnome hops up in his agitation, and then looks at the large holes and burns on his robes.
"Well, those lassies were sure very eager about me. It is nothing unexpected though..." he comments in a manner deep in scholarly wisdom.
"Apologies, master Gnome, but I have no elven lassies nor any sweetrolls. Perhaps you dreamt about them while you were passed out? No worries, now you are back here, whole and hearty!"
Colden then proceeds to walk over to Garta and Jirt to see if there's anything he can do to help. He's an old scholar and has read his fair share of tomes on healing practicalities, but never have he tried them practically. He hopes Sus'ann can take care of their bodies and instead focus on their spirits.
Colden starts to solemnly sing a song of rejuvenation, of blossoming trees, grassy hills and young love. Perhaps it will help his friends' mood, if nothing else.
"Nevermind, I will find them out soon, and you, yes you! You will help me find them! I know you want to help me, because I know that you know that you will be rewarded. Yes!"
The gnome adds delightfully: "Oooooo, this will be the best picnic trip ever!"
He then notices Jirt who's injured.
"Ah, I see the sword weilding minion has been overpowered. Let's see if we have something to bring him back up!"
He brings out a small purple pouch with glittering stars on it, loosens its strings, and tries to pull out something.....
Lagrord helps Garta to her feet. "Thank you so much for your help," she says to the half-orc, surprising respectful despite her gruff demeanor. She does not appear to be any more seriously hurt than she was, though her leg does pain her more now.
The gnome reaches into the purple pouch and pulls out...
Minion, roll 1d100
MAINTENANCE STAFF
Instead, you see it for what it truly is: a long-forgotten place of rejoicing and commerce, bustling with peaceful trade and the joy of eating sweets. Within each of you, even Garta and Nareth, grows the understanding, as Colden weaves his mild bardic magic into the song, that this place was once a haven for many people.
Food scarcity is a cause of such strife and hatred amongst the people of Winter's Valley. You think on the words of the spirit or angel or whatever that appeared.
"...made possible by our partnership... you’ll truly appreciate the effort and dedication that goes into bringing you the most delicious treats this side of Bladenfire!"
Could it be that once food was a means of bringing people together in partnership long ago, before the Darkening?
The idea is foreign to all of you. Food is a sacrifice that must be earned, or face the wrath of a heartless, death-filled winter. You can scarcely comprehend it.
Now seems like a good time for you to break your fast, and you eat while Sus'Ann patches up Garta's mild sprain and checks her break.
Colden's song reverberates through the cavern, lightening it and amplifying the noonday cloud-shine outside. When the music dies out, it finds you all more enlivened and ready, with full bellies, to get through "Coras Ugar Facrin" or, as you now know it, "Cora's Sugar Manufacturing" to complete your mission on the other side of the mountain.
Kefto: mildly injured
Colden: mildly injured
Garta: injured
Jirt: injured
Lagrord, Nareth, Sus'Ann, and Nameless Gnome: not injured
Water needs: Not thirsty.
Water supply: 75%
Food supply and needs: good for now.
But try as he might, he has no practical experience in this area. They appear as semi-transparent red plates with lines inside of them. They share he exact same pattern, but it is not in a language he has ever heard of. He’s not convinced that the patterns even are a language. They may be runes, arcane symbols, or just pretty decorative lines for all he knows.
"Now, which of you Minions want another shiny little toy?"
"I'll hold onto that for you, master Babble. We can't have you exerting yourself with uneccessary baggage."
"So, is everyone ok? We should continue what we started and check out the remaining passage ways before we head down the main hallway. If nothing else, let's make sure nothing can surprise us from behind as we move further into the depths."