Between Two Rivers - IC

[Ella]

Dust stirs on the breeze passing through the courtyard behind a nondescript building, a former palace whose mudbrick walls still radiate a slight chill in the early morning.

"RECRUITS" bellows Commander Megabyzus of District IX, which covers the area between and around the River Tigris and River Euphrates, Babylon and Assyria two of the most important cities of the Empire, with Babylon herself acting as one of the four capitals of the empire.

"Report for duty." he calls out. Beside him sits a scribe, smirking up at him, a roll of parchment bound with a leather strap held tightly in one of her hands. "State your name, and capabilities for the rest of the team, and then prepare to recieve your first mission."


Make a "getting to know each other" style post please, feel free to banter as you like but once you are all done I will give you your choices and so on :P

[El_Pablo]

The tanned figure in his bronze linked armor steps forward. His step is without hesitation, and his gloved hand pulls back the leather hood covering his head from the sun. Sweaty brown curls roll out past his ears and neck. "I am Nartrmoedes of Crete." His voice is loud, clear, and stern. It was a sign he had had to report like this many times before. "I am trained in Minoan magicks of the battlefield. I assure that you would be hard pressed to find a caster which is my equal outside of Mycenae."
His words sound boastful, but a desicerning eye would note that the Greek's build is rather slight uderneath the armor. His face, too, seems thin. It wasn't clear if his gaunt features were a sign of his athleticism or his size. Time does not permit for more wondering as Nartromedes steps back into line, pulling his hair back, and lifting the hood of his armor back up. The shade of the hood often some little respite from the harsh Persian sun.

[PollyOliver]

Essiyah stands at rapt attention with her weapon, spine preternaturally straight in the way that only a well-drilled guard or soldier can truly manage; for a woman she is quite tall, with an athletic build, but some of the group still tower over her. Her long black hair is swept back from her face in a tight knot, and she wears distinctive and entirely foreign-looking armor, despite her Babylonian features.

"Essiyah Markhad," she says. "Trained in the arts of war, of negotiation, and of the history of the empire and the gods."

She relaxes marginally as the scribe and the commander focus their attention on the next recruit, and when looks less like a soldier heading off to war, she's suddenly quite pretty. When they don't seem bent on destruction, her eyes are kind, and her features delicate.

She sneaks a glance down the line to where the Cretian was standing, robed and hooded and possibly melting, but she can't see him, so she steps back into line and waits.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah takes a long deep breath, his heart hammering, his posture low, and defensive. He almost looks as if he is expecting someone to strike him. His wild hair and beard, is unkempt and dirty. He is wearing a simple hide jerkin, that by the look, and smell, is full of parasites and dirt. He takes a step forward, and refusing to look at the officer states in a quiet, small voice, "I am Obadiah Jeriamach, Prophet of the one true God." he lifts his spear from it's position and holds it in front of his face. It is unlike normal spears, fully a foot longer, and seemingly fashioned from some non-metalic material, possibly even flint. It has a vicious hook on the end, just below the blade, and is intricatly carved."By the power of the God, and his strong arm, I shall smite mine enemies!"

His eyes suddenly take on a wild look, and he tries to cover his mouth, but it's too late, "I am the voice of the God, the God says that the people of Babylon should beware, death is coming, the end of life, the end of all things is coming, repent for thy doom is at hand." the wild man looks mortified at his outburst, and steps back, back into line his body trembling.

[A'den]

Sef doesn't react as quickly as the others when it his turn to speak, standing a head and shoulders over those around him he is an obvious foreigner. His pale skin had yet to take on the burned leather look of a longtime desert dweller. A loose white shoufa wrapped around his brow barely contained his golden locks and hangs down his back and over the front of his shoulders. He draped his linen tan robe across his broad shoulders doing little to contain his body almost half again heavier than any of those in line. A dented bronze breast plate his molded to his chest it might of belonged to some other warrior a few days ago as it doesn't match the leather bound fur lined bracers or the hide and leather bound boots he wears. A pair of linen breeches cover his legs though they hang loosely to attract the chance of a breeze. The hilt of a broad sword poked above his left shoulder in a plain scabbard. A quiver of arrows is bound to his belt and he holds a long bow in his left hand that looks like it might take two men to string.

He doesn't straighten from his slouch as he speaks with a broken accent, "I'm Sef."

With a cough he spits on the ground in front of him. "I break people."

He paused for a moment seemingly searching for the right words in the foreign tongue. His blue gaze never falters from meeting the Commander's eyes.

"I'm good with wild things and beasts.

[Lyndworm]

A tall man, with an eagle-like brow and a sharp nose, steps up shortly after the pale giant. With a self-assured smirk, he speaks a little more loudly than necessary. "My name is Midhat Ibn-Ahad Al-Selb." A shimmering white-yellow rod of force appears in his hand, and he slams it to the ground. "I hunt, and I do not stop. I hurt, and I do not stop. I am mighty. My spear is mighty." He says the last sentence wit a quick wink to the scribe. The man releases the glimmering energy, which stands erect and dissipates over the next few seconds as Midhat steps back into line.

[Ella]

"Works for me." Megabyzus calls out responding to the recruits introductions. "You are of course aware that within the Empire, there are those that fight against the proper order of things. Those who do evil to those who are unable to fight back and those who make foolish mistakes that hurt others unwillingly. Your duty is to investigate that which hurts the empire and find suitable methods of dealing with them." The scribe beside him gives an exasperated look, while holding the parchment tighter than before.

"When something needs investigation, the message comes to me from either the civic guard or beaurocracy, we write down orders to take care of it, you come to me and I offer you the task. Upon completion you return to me for furthe orders or rewards for your service. There is no limit to how much you are able to take on, but if you take on too much and fail to make progress there may be consequences."

"I am, perhaps the best way to describe it, would be his assistant.' The scribe begins "You will notice orders here are passed on parchment rather than the official tablets, this is so that anything sensitive to the empire is able to be destroyed, the words purified by fire."

"My name is Meisia, and for you right now I have three sheets of parchment available.

The first is a request for assistance from one of the wizards of the great ziggurat complex, he is complaining about a theft. He is too powerful to be ignored but widely regarded as somewhat senile.

The second, from the Master of the Canals, complains about nymphs wreaking havoc on the movement of water so vital to our city.

The third, from one of the resident magi, complaining that the dead are restless beneath the city, this is a common problem and one that you will find cropping up regularly. "

"Make your choices, and do not abuse you power." Megabyzus finishes.

[A'den]

Sef shrugged unconcerned, Nymphs were good luck back home he didn't really want to spend his first day angering the spirits that had blessed his journey south. He cast a look around the group to see what the southmen thought and added his simple advice.

"Undead don't put up much of a fight, but good practice."

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes turned toward the others in his new phalanx. A small sigh escaped his lips as he returned to the all too familiar sight of looking up at everyone. The only person whose eyes he met was the Persian woman, she had the posture of a warrior, he gave her a quick, small smile of approval. Next to her was the loud, old, dirty fellow. Nar tried to hide the reproach from his face, and looked to the next member. Sef, was the name the giant of man called himself. Wherever he was from eloquence wasn't a priority , but this phalanx wouldn't be short of muscle. Nar gives him a passing nod. The flashy spearman made a mixed impression on the Greek. So, Nartromedes eyed him without judgment but confusion.
Having looked them over, he listened to the words the large barbarian had to speak, and shot him a quizzical look. "A warrior as big as you, and you want to crawl through some tunnels cleaning up the restless dead? That is barely a step above hauling slop from the streets. It is said the greater the good, the greater the glory. Helping the magi only serves them and their goals. Helping the master of canals would help the whole city. We should concern ourselves with the river spirits."
Nartromedes makes his opinion open to the group, but he also looks at the others carefully. Every phalanx needs a leader, and one of the Persians would probably best serve in that position. His gaze and preference falls to Essiyah

[Lyndworm]

"I would also like to investigate these nymphs. Clogging up the water supply is a serious problem, and should be treated as such." Though his word sound sincere enough, a certain glint in Midhat's eye betrays his true thoughts. "After all, a little friendly contact with the fey never hurt anyone." The well-tanned man can't help but smile widely at his own joke.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah looks around at his new team, all bigger, and probably more capable and able than him, instead of interrupting he waits until there is silence before he speaks, "None of these things are the true threat to the empire." he intones slowly, "However undead are a blight upon this land, and the God will empower me to deal with them." he pauses, and looks around timidly, "if that's Ok with everyone else?"

[Ella]

"I see" Meisia responds by passing one parchment to the barbarian from the north, and another to Nartromedes.


http://i.imgur.com/bGL0i.jpg|
http://i.imgur.com/ILQUv.jpg


"Whatever the wizard wants can probably wait, but the water problems could starve the city eventually if something isn't done about it. And the undead, well, its only a matter of time before the disappearances happen again, they always seem to happen at the same time without anything to prove them related." She tucks the remaining sheet into a scroll case, before lying back in her seat, eyes shut turning her face to the hot sun.

"Well off with you then!" Megabyzus dismisses you casually with a flick of his hand, turning to watch the basking scribe captivated.

[A'den]

Sef accepted the sheet of paper from the scribe his eyes wandered for second down from her face before he stepped back, his people were a blunt lot. He turned to the others as he tucked the sheaf of paper into a leather pouch tied around his neck.

"Spirits of Nature are highly respected among the people they nurture man and make him stronger, its best to talk to them. Sometimes they ask for tasks from our hunters back home."

He eyed Midhat askance for a moment; the thought of violating a water spirit stokes a flicker of flame in his azure eyes before it fades back to their dull morning gray hue as he relies the man is cutting a joke. Southern humor was harder to understand, their were too many sand jokes. And no one understood his joke about the two farmers and a tree.

[PollyOliver]

"I, too, would prefer to speak with them first," Essiyah says, stepping forward toward the rest of the group. She leans on her weapon, a great polearm that towers above even Sef. "And I believe water should be seen to first, if there are no objections."

[El_Pablo]

"If our task is that simple, I will praise Athena for granting them reason. Still, our goal is to help the people those spirits are hurting. Don't forget about the respect they deserve from us as well." He looks up at from the scroll he was handed at the pale outlander. There was something in the barbarian's eyes which made him hesitate pursuing the issue further.
After Essiyah speaks up, Nartromedes nods at her, and hands her the scroll. "If you know the way to the docks, I will follow you." The minoan walks back to his gear, and shoulders his pack with one arm, and a loose travel sack around his neck like a satchel. He wipes the sweat from his brow and looks up at the sun. The light was blinding even in the shade of his leather hood. The thought of a quick dip in the Tigris distracted him slightly from the oppressive heat. When his head came down, he saw what distracted most of the other men for the task at hand. Nartromedes let out a slight groan as he headed for the exit. He desperately hoped his new allies were more disciplined in battle or the nymphs could be a much greater threat than was currently thought.

[Lyndworm]

The spearman speaks again. "Whichever we do first, the second will still be waiting. I certainly have no objections a a nymph hunt; metaphorical is preferred, but I'll still be your friend if it's not." Midhat runs a hand loosely over his tightly ponytailed hair as he continues. "Shall we visit the canals, then?"

[FyreByrd]

The prophet rubs his hand through his dirty hair. "To the canels we go then," he gestures to his comrades, "I apologise for my ways, I am unused to company, I have been alone for many years now." he pauses, and then still slightly nervously asks, "I have no knowledge of nymphs, can anyone enlighten me about them?"

[A'den]

Sef grunted he didn't really know anything more about Spirits than what he had already said. Mari philosophy was not a long enduring class as a child, Nature is good, respect it and will make you strong, don't and it will kill you, and sometimes just kill you anyways. He followed the group without answering the funny man's question, he seemed the type to get offended easily. He shouldered a small backpack that leaned against the courtyard wall, he took a moment to take a swig from his water skin and pull his head wrap lower over his eyes to protect his eyesight.

It was hot.

Survival: To know the right direction to go. [roll0]

[PollyOliver]

"All right," Essiyah says in a melodic, throaty voice. "The canals it is then." She rests her weapon on her shoulder and sets off for the docks.

I'm assuming I know where I'm going...if not, I'll edit.

[Ella]

You pass through the bustling city streets, the air is dry, with the wind passing through open courtyards, and along busy streets. There is greenery, a suprisingly large amount of it all around if you look carefully, and each home would appear to have a garden, leaving lush scents trailing over walls.

As you approach the canals, that run along the outside of the city, spreading into field of wheat, which has been cultivated in the surrounds to the point where it runs wild in areas unnoticed, feeding abundant birdlife.

Baeaus, Master of the Canals stands up to his knees in silty mud, the formal title is one that carries a great deal of importance yet never has stopped him from getting dirty as the job requires. On his hip sits a baton of office, a golden orb on one end showing just how valuable the man is to the city. ""Assistance has finally arrived?"" he calls out as you approach.

"I take it you are here about the problem with the nymphs?" he asks but not expecting an answer, you get the feeling that even were you not, he would have dragooned anyone armed into the cause even if it were a pack of blood mad scythian invaders. "I will answer any questions you have, and can offer you a small raft if you require it, but we must be quick about it, while the granaries store enough grain to ensure a drop in productivty is not disastrous, any change in outlook is enough to cause panic, and the last thing anyone wants is a riot.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah smiles, uncertainly at the man, "What problems have you been having with nymphs Sir?" he questions deferentially.

Rolls:
Don't think you'll need it, but a dip check just in case.
Diplomacy : [roll0]

[Lyndworm]

"Well, we certainly didn't bring a boat with us, Master. I'm sure nothing you'd provide would go unappreciated. Please, take us to these... nymphs. I'm sure that we'll find some way of ending this problem while leaving everyone nice and happy." A mischievous grin crosses Midhat's face for a moment, but he quickly hides it behind his usual self-assured smirk.

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes spends a great deal of the time walking actively scanning the sights of Babylon. The sight may seem to be paranoia, but the Minoan is simply too impressed with the legendary gardens to not taek in as much as possible. Yet, the long time travelerer was too wise to walk through a new city with his eyes only on the sights.
Seeing the canal master in the mud caused him to rethink taking a dip in the river, but a boat ride would let him get wet enough if he wanted. He thought for a few seconds while the two Persians asked only the vaguest of questions. Nartromedes sighed, "You said nymphs? How many of these creatures are there? Also, what specific action are they taking which is causing disruption to the canals? Finally, you said the granaries have stock from the last season. Does that mean this disruption only started recently?" The warmage wanted to be precise with his information. The chance to meet divine spirits of beauty might seem like a pleasant interlude, but he was not going to underestimate the danger.

[PollyOliver]

"Yes," Essiyah echoes. "What are they doing, precisely, and when did they start?"

[A'den]

The city wasn't quite like he had seen, it was controlled chaos. Funneled along channels and sprawling districts Sef found himself liking it to a wilderness in his mind of rock and stone.

Sef grunted at the sight of the boat, it would not be good for them in armor to fall in. He hung at the back of the group, making friendly chat was not his strong suit.

[Ella]

"The problem with the nymphs is that they want to play coy, they want to be chased, and they really want to make everyone involved waste a great deal of time placating them, otherwise they will block up the canals to punish us." Baeaus explains to Obadiah.

"Its real regular, nymph problems, we have a surplus due to the way that grain grows in such abundance but we would have even more otherwise. I would say we get a couple of nymph related problems per growing season, and each time they want something different. Which is why I think they just want attention." Baeaus coughs politely before continuing "Each time they play up we send for brave people to deal with them, and each time things are resolved peacefully but if we just wait for them to get bored they start getting more and more dramatic."

"Two weeks of minor disruption so far, I'd be predicting that unless we start dealing with them, they will start trying hard to get attention."


Baeaus has a secret, you can investigate with sense motive or knowledge history or knowledge nobility and royalty.

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes looks at the man somewhat incredulously. Speaking of the demands of powerful spirits as the seasonal annoyances of unwed maidens. The greek sighed softly. He considered the master's words. They just want attention?

Nartromedes turned to the tall talkative Persian. "It seems you will have your nypmh hunt, Midhat. Would you like me to help oar your love boat?" The greek slowly shook his head underneath his hood. At least there was much less danger than he feared. "I believe we will have need of the canal master's ship."

[Lyndworm]

"At this point it seems like I should admit I was largely joking, my friend. Given this new information, though... My chances have gone way, way up! I'd be honored to have you serve as my partner in this, you know. I'm sure we can dupe somebody else into doing the rowing, if you'd like." Midhat seems perfectly genuine, now. There's no hint of mischievousness to his words as would be normal, and he looks Nartromedes directly in the eye as he speaks.

[A'den]

Sef grunted the man was telling the truth, water spirits. Could be loving and caring when you knew what you were doing but ignore the little signs and they'd gut ya quicker than a trout in spring. Course there were easier solutions.

"Sounds like the truth to me." Sef spoke as he stringed together his second largest sentence of the day. He climbed into the boat and sat down at one of the oars ignoring the complaints of the whining Southerners.

[PollyOliver]

Essiyah looks between the westerner and the spear-wielder and resists the urge to sigh. She should probably go along, in case things go badly.

"I will help row," she says, "if one of you could help with my armor. It is not the most seaworthy of garb." Then she fixes Midhat with a neutral but firm stare. "Not you," she says.

[FyreByrd]

The wild garbed prophet of the God, smiles wanly, "I'm not sure I would be much use in chasing maidens." he comments, a little wistfully, "but I will certainly assist where possible."
He joins the others in the boat, helping to row if need be.

[Ella]

Baeaus gestures to the boat and watches as you leave, a slow smile spreads over his face, full of fondness. The man had spent almost his entire life working along, and in some cases in the canals, and while the nymphs were problematic, they were not, in his experience dangerous.

Before you, on the canals fed by spreading branches of the Euphrates the water is less murky than you would find in most rivers, but there is a layer of fine silt suspended within it. The water still has a chill to touch, and as the boat moves the find spray rising from it refreshes you.

The boat in question, is a shallow bottomed craft specifically designed to provide a stable base for workers along the canal, it is essentially a square of wooden planks, with a railing along one side, to propel yourselves you simply row with small broad oars.

You have only travelled minutes down one of the major arteries of the canal system before you encounter a small dam made of pebbles and mud, the water is simply flowing over the incomplete barrier.


Assuming you are ready, I could drag it out and make each of you move to the boat, but you have all the information.

Can you find a nymph, either through detection or luring it?

[A'den]

Sef seeing the dam and noticing the area seemed rather still stood up in the water craft and took a minute to remove his armor and upper part of his clothing except for his bracers and amulet. He arranged his gear so he could lie back and lean up against it he kicked his boots off and placed them next to him. He arranged his scabbard so he could still draw his sword if needed up otherwise he leaned up against bench and kicked his feet up on the railing.

The sun was warm and he really hadn't had much rest since he got here. He flexed for a moment. Bicep muscles bulged with his large shoulders, he stretched his arms of his head showing off a stomach of a man that had lived off the road for the last year. Then Sef stretched out on his makeshift pile of clothing; best way to attract a woman, either beat her over the head and take her back to your cave. Failing that, act like you got nothing better to do at the moment and then do something casual while shes around.

The big man dangled his foot over the edge, his eyes closed slowly his body laid in the sun tanning. He may of been feigning sleep or might actually be asleep it was hard to tell even with the relaxed grin on his face.

Hmm: Showing off your body, shouldn't Constitution play into that? A 20 should mean a pretty healthy and in shape guru. Showing off the eight pack. Otherwise CHA check maybe?

CHA Check[roll0]

[PollyOliver]

While Sef dangles his toes in the water, Essiyah looks over the edge, looking for any sign of the nymphs.

[roll0]

[El_Pablo]

[Before enetering the raft]
Nartromedes eyes Midhat a tad suspiciously at his sudden sobriety of words, but then chuckles. "We will make the big guy row." Pointing to the hulking barbarian. He laughed again when Essiyah denied Midhat the option of unarmoring her. "I will help with the plate if you'll help with my coif."
The greek warmage assists the templar wrestle off her full plate with an equal parts of roughness and gentleness. The warmages are trained in heavier armors, but it had been a long year since he had worked with the all encompassing full plate, but, generally, needs little guidance dealing with the large number of straps and buckles. "I don't know how you wear all this," Nartromedes tells the Persian maid when they've finished, "just helping you take it off has me exhausted."

[At the dam]

After removing his own armor, Nartromedes places the chain over his gear in one corner of the raft. Reaching a hand into a small pocket on his pack, Nartromedes pulls out a small statuette of Hermes, god of travellers, and offers a quick pair. On standing, the greek is robed very lightly in Egyptian linen very fine with only trousers and vest. He watches Sef take a break after rowing the raft, and looks up at the hot sun. "I have been wanting a swim since Helios rode over the eastern hills this morning." With only those words, Nar hopped out of the raft and into the cool, calm waters passed the dam.
The cool water felt good, and he said as much to the others. Splashing water over his long hair he called up to the others on the raft. "So, Midhat, how does a nymph hunter find his prey?" He gave a small smile, but Nartromedes could not completely relax. His smile faded a little as he looked at the whole group. "Also, Essiyah you should be careful to keep your wits about you lest all us menfolk are incapable of keeping ours, and we should haul the raft to shore or we will need to leave someone here watch it." After all that talk, Nartromedes still lowers himself in the water to enjoy the cool stream.

[Lyndworm]

"The same way any hunter finds anything, my friend." Midhat raises an arm and whistles. A large falcon drops from the sky and perches on the tall man's shoulder as he lowers himself into a crouch and begins examining the ground. He speaks as he searches. "I don't believe that you've met Rek yet. She's my faithful companion, and a lot smarter than she looks." The bird's fierce gaze touches on each of Midhat's companions in turn before finding them uninteresting. She looks around the ground, as well, apparently helping Midhat search.

Midhat's Rolls:
Listen:
[roll0]

Spot:
[roll1]

Survival:
[roll2]
Rek's Rolls:
Listen:
[roll3]

Spot:
[roll4]

Survival:
[roll5]

Rek doesn't have the track feat, so her Survival check is an Aid Other action for Midhat.
Wow, a lot of bad rolls in there.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah looks around, knowing full well that observation wasn't his strong point. However as he does so, he also throws a quick prayer up to his God.

Rolls:

Cast Guidance (+1 to any roll - using it spot check below)

Spot Check:[roll0]

[Ella]

From the water, a voice calls out to the group, but specifically addressing Sef "Pretty, oh pretty, do you wish to play with us?" there is a chuckle. "Have you come to play with us?"

Midhat and Rek both spot the form of a Nymph in the water, she floats in the canal, still despite the waters flow her limbs move with the grace associated normally with legendary courtesans, she is blue in colour with a gown of water and foam covering her as little as could be regarded decent.

"Have you come to entertain us?" the Nymph asks softly, letting one of her hands rise above the water for a moment, revealing her rough location to everyone, Midhat is able to see even the small rips and eddies that form around her body in the water.

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes barely makes out the blue hand rising out of the silty water. The voice seemed playful, and so he jested in return. "Actually, we would hope you could entertain us, though a game could also be fun. Please, come upon the shore or to our boat that I may see you. I would much like to one day sculpt the likeness of the spirits of beauty." Nartromedes doesn't get out of the canal to show he has no fear, and his words are meant to befriend the watery creature.

Diplomacy - [roll0]

[Lyndworm]

Midhat shudders slightly, and openly gasps at the beauty of the creatures before him. "Forgive me, lady of the canal; I have treated you poorly in your absence. You are here, now, and I am overcome with guilt. I would like nothing more than to make it up to you. If you want to play a game, I will happily participate." Rek stays where she is, on Midhat's shoulder. The large falcon simply watches the nymph, curiosity in her fierce gaze.

[Ella]

"The Persians, they do not swim stranger, did you know this, they do not build boats, oh no they do not." The nymph speaks now to Nartromedes, and he is able to feel the waters movement around him, some surely is current but every now and then he is able to feel something more like a soft touch againts his skin. "I will let you see but to leave the water entirely hurts us. I will not, no matter how you charm."

The nymph lifts herself out of the water to her waist, the waters course flows around her. She appears to be a beautiful young woman.

"And we are changed, degraded and lessened by the ones who we gave life." She lifts her hands, gesturing towards the city of Babylon, for a brief moment her fingers elongate into claws. "We are spirits of the water, we are bound to it and when it changes, we change with it. They tame our river pretties, Why shouldn't I punish them?"

"Do you wish to play who 'who can swim underwater longest'?" the nymph asks Midhat, her lips curling into a smile.


The nymph feels friendlier towards Nartromedes.

[Lyndworm]

Midhat looks as if about to speak, but stops himself. After a brief pause he speaks calmly, and with a smile. "That game is not fun, my lady; we all are aware you will win as surely as we are aware that time will bring the dawn. I feel you are playing a joke on me, my lady."

[A'den]

Sef didn't so much sit up as simply readjust to a position that was more lazily comfortable, like a big predatory cat fat with the kill watching its knit at play. His only move was to dangle his legs in the water and meet the Nymph's gaze with a grin. Sultry would never fall into Sef's lexicon of description but he had this air of vitality and natural energy around him that seemed to roll off in him in waves.

He wasn't interested in playing games really as much as giving the spirit something to think about it and maybe act on. Words would have ruined the affect he had managed to achieve so far. Sef afterall operated on a more basic instinct than the rest of his companions. Words were an attempt by men to add order to the chaos of the world; the wolf didn't ask the pack to go hunting they simply did. He let the cubs talk while he met the Nymph's gaze, he made no effort to conceal his thoughts because he knew deep down whatever appearance the water spirit put on it wanted nothing more to spend some primal and violent energy, Sef was the type of outlet than ran on primal and violent.

Sef being Sef: Constitution Check [roll0]

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes spent a moment just staring at the water spirit both above and below the water. First, he looked in astonishment and lust, but, second, to record in his mind her look that he might keep his word about sculpting her image. As his wits regained control of his eyes so they did of the rest of him. He, finally realized what he was feeling, and his face flushed lightly as his smile spread uncontrollably. He looks the nymph in the eye and speaks as sweetly as he can in his foreign tongue, "You say that you change as the river, but I see no tameness in your boundless beauty or hear it in your insightful words. Your voice is soft as the summer showers, and, yet, you speak harshly of punishment for these people using the life you have been so generous to give." He frowned slightly and shook his head. "I'm sorry. You have me thinking of such serious things, and you asked for entertainment. I will admit your sweet tongue has reminded me of a game that you may suit you well." He gave the nymph a teasing smile. "It's a game of lies."

The greek started toward the shore, and he was struck with the desire to find some clay. He intended to sculpt some small models that would help him remember the details of his chosen muse. He rose out of the water dripping from his long hair, now hanging straight. "The rules are simple," he spoke as he scanned the shoreline, "and all we need is a cup and two pebbles per players. Though, you may wish to bring your wits as well."

[PollyOliver]

Essiyah brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes and opens her pack, taking out her battered mug. Then she fishes a handful a sling bullets from the pouch at her side and holds both out to the man in the water.

[El_Pablo]

"Perfect. Perfect. Thank you Essiyah." Nartromedes wades back to the raft to take the items, but thinks better of it. He grabs the raft itself, and starts dragging it to one side of the shore. He smiles at the Persian spearwoman. "You hold on to those for now. I mean you will be playing." The greek's smile fades a little as he seems to be remembering something. "I fear you may be good a little too good at this as well."

[PollyOliver]

The reserved mask of her face suddenly drops, and Essiyah grins a positively wicked grin, as only a follower of Inanna--or a water nymph--truly can.

"At what, my dear man?" she asks innocently.

OOC--Though truth be told, her bluff check isn't actually that good, as it's not a class skill. Just the boost from charisma.

[A'den]

Sef perked up at the mention of the game. He wasn't cunning or sly with his tongue like some of the others but telling stories was an honored tradition among his people, though there was no ox roast nor stone fire pit floating in the middle of the river and some good strong milk chai was unlikely to be had here the thought of sharing tales of strength, valor, and the bone crushing defeat of past enemies was engaging to him.

He leaned over and pulled two silver pieces from his pack to use as pebbles, he didn't carry rocks around without a reason.

[El_Pablo]

OOC: OOoohhh. I want to pick a cool custom token, too.

At Essiyah's comment, Nartromedes laughs in a manner that reveals nothing, but enjoyment and his eyes match his lips' smile. After dragging the raft ashore, the warmage digs in his pack to pull two small chunks of jade out of his spell component pouch and takes Essiyah's offered mug. He gives an explanation of the rules, and, then, scans around for some clay he might be able to make some simple sculptures with on the bank. "Everyone who's playing gather near the shore so our hosts can play with us." The greek says with a gesture to the nymph.

Game Rules posted in the OOC thread.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah, somewhat hesitantly, as his gaze is locked to the form of the nymph, settles down at the waters edge to play the game, he has no cup or stones, however he takes a piece of chalk from his pouch, and begs a cup off one of his companions.

[Ella]

The nymph drifts to the side of the canal, a bemused expression crossing her face. She had expected the refusal to play her obviously lethal game, in her experience dealing with people worked best when you demanded the impossible at first, and let them have their victory in doing what you wanted most of all after negotiation.

These pretties were different, they were trying to give her what she desired most. Like most immortals for her entertainment held a higher value than anything else.

"You may call me Invidia, and I will play the game flatterer. I see the sweetness of your words and it pleases me." She leans on the ground beside the canal, she is now above the water from her waist up, and she places before her on the ground two pearls, sparkling on the silty ground.

"Once you have settled I will begin." She explains, as she pauses, placing a pearl in the cup and then lifting it to her lips tilting it softly before turning it over.


Her story is being written now.

[Lyndworm]

Midhat, seeing everyone else is playing, wanders over to the water as well. He mumbles something to Rek and pulls two small items from his pack; they appear to be preserved bird skulls. "I apologize for the macabre nature of my tokens. Perhaps I will explain how I came about them for the game; perhaps not."

[Ella]

"My story is one of magic and the folly of man, it is perhaps not as fun as tales I could tell you of seduction but perhaps it will be interesting." Invidia begins.

"A nymph, or any spirit of nature comes into being only when there is a high level of ambient magic, that is, what remains of magic when no magic remains. An example of this is sometimes in a site of nature worship where magic is thrown about in ritual over time will develop spirits of nature that both protect the place and often manage to convince those who worship there that they are what was always worshipped in that place. This is an amusing fate that often will befall a cult who pick a place away from people to practise their rites."

"Up north in Assyria there was a cult dedicated to a sea god, despite their location far from the ocean itself. They would sneak from the city on dark and cloudless nights to dance under the moon and the stars in great whirling patterns through wild growing wheat. They were evil in their intent, their rituals designed to set new fates for those who opposed them, realigning them a destiry, a doom that would someday destroy them."

"What they did not realise was that their rites were only effective at generating a large amount of magical energy without a purpose, so it would soak into the fields around them over time building up a great deal of ambient magic."

"Cereads, spirits of nature bound to fields of grain spung into being. A sisterhood that ensured the city always had, and will have enough to eat by tending to the fields at night, dancing amongst the waving stems in great patterns of life and beauty. The cities greatest protectors and guards born from the pettiness and evil in the hearts of men."

"Pretties, do you know where my pearl is?"


Bluff [roll0]

[PollyOliver]

Essiyah leans forward in the boat, meeting the nymph's gaze evenly, thinking.

Sense motive [roll0]. Also, is there any way I could use knowledge (religion) or (history) on her story? If so, either is [roll1].

[El_Pablo]

"Well, since I suggested the game I will be the first to guess." Nartromedes takes a second to put all his new allies in order based on their position around the shore. So, the turn order will be -

Inividia
Nartromedes
Midhat
Obadiah
Essiyah
Sef
Rolls were done in the OOC forum.

He listens intently to the water spirits tale, his eyes slowly traversing the scenic route between her eyes and her lips many times. When, she finished he took a moment to pause and think. "I know little of nature spirits, though some here do," his eyes turned to Sef, "but I will do my best to find your pearl. I would love to keep safe and hold any token of you, no matter how temporary," His words tease again with both flattery, and they hold a subtle, but friendly, challenge. "What do you think, my new phalanx?"

Sense Motive - [roll0]
Knowledge (Arcana) - [roll1] (Magical spontaneous generation?)
Knowledge (History) - [roll2] (Assyrian cult? Cereads if it applies?)
Please post my results in the OOC thread. I will endeavor to make a great example for the other players with my tale next.


[Posting my tale here. Midhat is my guesser]

Nartromedes tilts his head slightly to the side as he stares into Midhat's eyes. A look shines in his eyes like measuring scales. He takes one of the small green stones in front of him and conceals it in his hand. With the other hand, he slyly lifts he Essiyah's mug and looks as if he has placed the rock underneath though both hands retrun to his side close-fisted.
"My tale is of a soldier from Mycenae. He hailed from my island of Crete but looked to travel abroad for his fortune and fame. He made every preparation for the long journey and bid his parent and siblings "Xaire" with a kiss. However, after sailing for only a few short days, it was apparent he had skipped the most important of preparations. In his haste, he had skipped the temple and offered no prayes for safety from Poseidon or Hemes. So, neither offered protection from the storm that rose on the last night. His impiety was paid for in waves taller than the trireme's mast, and, when the vessel tipped, the Lord of the Meditteranean took away everything. The gold he had saved, the gear he had stowed, and the arms he would bear all became the offered sacrifice for a safe journey.
This soldier washed up on a barren shore alongside the flotsam he had clung to for life. He mumbled tired prayers of thanks to the gods as he had mumbled pleas for help while tossing on the endless waves. Stumbling and lost, he found himself in a great desert. The sand rolled like the sea had been lost in, and the heat sought to eat him. After the first day of wandering, his path was barred by a scorpion larger than a man. Unarmed, he slew the thing, and the fight drew a passing caravan who informed he was lost in Egypt's Red Land, The Great Sand Sea. The merchants took pity on him, and they brought him to Memphis. In the lower kingdom, he took any warrrior's work to save up enough money for a ship back home and traveled east to the port of Pelusium. Yet, a strange storm had caused the sea to spill dead fish like a drunkard did his drink. No sailor would take to the waves despite the soldiers offers, protests, and prayers.
He took to the road planning to walk closer to Greece until he could find passage on a ship. Yet, before he could hit the promising ports of Canaan, he was set upon by bandits in the night. The traveler slew the robber captain and his men fled, but they had already taken all his wealth. Penniless the ports of Phoenicia offered no passage, and the soldier joined with mercenaries. They traveled through Canaan earning coin until they captured a pride of griffins which rewarded enough for travel home. The company dropped him in the great Phoenician port of Sidon, and the sight of ships gave him hope again.
He prayed to his gods in the temple and approached the port. Ships were coming and going, but none would take him. The high priest of Yam-Nahar had declared that no ship could sail to foreign lands or the cursed storm which had killed the fish of Egypt would come for them. So, the traveler was still landlocked, and he continued north. He walked as far as the gates of Damascus when he stopped. He could continue walking closer to Greece, but the gods had denied him a ship at every port. No man can walk to Crete.
So, he prayed for luck, and decided to travel through the Achaemenid empire as the roads guided him. To this day, those roads have not taken him home." Nartromedes paused for a moment before spreading a smile on his face. "I am that soldier."

[Lyndworm]

Midhat thinks for a a moment, looking into Nartromedes' eyes, before speaking. "You are a truly brilliant soul, my friend, and a talented liar. I almost didn't spot it, but I'll have to call your bluff."

[El_Pablo]

"So, you say my lie 'is on the tongue'? Very well, flip my cup, and if the lie is there I get to keep it." Still keeping one hand balled next to his side, Nartromedes gestures to the battered mug in front of him. Midhat lifts the mug revealing the chunk of jade. Nar lifts the green stone, "I'll take that since my tale was the truth." He adds with a smile, "I left Damascus five weeks ago."
He passes the battered mug to Midhat for him begin his turn. A smile plays on his lips as he seems genuinely amused. His attention fully on the Persian tracker to hear his tale.

Still have two lies.

[Lyndworm]

"Very good; I'm impressed. Now listen to this and give me your opinion, Obadiah." The man clears his throat before continuing.

"A young bird was out hunting for herself. She's alone for the first time and sees a lizard, and decides that it would make a fine meal. The young bird came in silently and started to dive for the lizard. Right then a larger bird crashed into the young huntress, intending to make her its meal. Her momentum carried her away, and she hid in a thorn bush were the big bird couldn't get to her. The huntress was far too hurt to fly."

"Then next day a man came by this bush. Afraid, the young bird backed away, and into a thorn. She let out a quiet shriek of pain and surprise, but the man had keen ears and heard her lamentation. Investigating, he sought the bush and found the young bird. The man was a hunter, and knew how to take care of certain wounds. With soft, strange sounds and gentle hands the hunter nursed the huntress back health."

"Under the man's care, the young bird learned much. She learned the ways of men, first and foremost, but she also learned to be a better hunter; even her senses seemed stronger. It was as if her mind had expanded and there was suddenly room to learn everything she'd missed as a chick. The huntress enjoyed this foray into the world of men, but soon became bored and longed for a life in the wild."

"The hunter let his huntress go free, because he knew what she wanted in her heart. By this time, the young bird was young no longer and had grown into a large and truly stunning specimen. The beautiful bird flew far away, and hunted many animals, as her kind are wont to do. Whenever her quarry gave her a particularly hard time, though, she found herself unable to eat its face. So she left skulls behind for the months of her long journey, until an idea occurred to her."

"The huntress returned to the hunter, both because she missed him and because he could do something that she could not. Whenever her quarry gave the huntress a good hunt, she would bring the skull to the hunter. The huntress could not speak, but the hunter, again, knew what she wanted anyway. The man boiled the skulls and let the harsh desert sun bleach them white. This was the beautiful bird's way of honoring her fallen quarry."

"Rek is the bird, I am the man, and one of those skulls is under this mug."

[El_Pablo]

[Timewarping back for Invidia]

Nartromedes gives a stern eye to the nymph as he concludes his thinking. "Invidia, your words carry as much wisdom as the beauty in your voice. Strange as your tale may seem, I believe it to be true. Your lie is in the cup." He reaches to overturn the cup and discover if he has been deceived.

[After Midhat's tale]

"A great story. I did not realize a falcon could be so honorable." Nartromedes smiles at the hunter, obviously enjoying himself immensely.

[Ella]

Back in time

The pearl sits beneath the cup, its surface shimmering in the light. "You make take your prize, but do not think I will fail to confuse you next time." Invidia tells Nartromedes while making a dismissive gesture with her hand.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah stares hard at Midhat, then bursts into laughter, a sound that is strange coming from the prophet's lips. He scratches his long hair, and shrugs, "I know not whether your story is true, or false, friend, but I enjoyed it none the less. My guess is that while your falcon is undeniably honourable, it is merely that a falcon, I believe you lie!" He chortles again, then composes himself.

"My story comes from many years ago, before there was an empire in Persia, it is a story of historical, and religious significance, and one that also features beasts." he nods to Midhat, with a smile again.

"There was once a man that was leading an army deep into enemy territory, this army was full of young, strong men, with sharp blades, and cold eyes. The ruler of the land, knew that his wealth, his wives, ye even his very world was at stake from these reavers, that these locusts would sweep all before them, destroying everything, for the Gods themselves were with them." Obadiah leans forward, enunciating his words clearly, "So the ruler, invested in spiritual help. He enlisted the help of a prophet, like me, to pronounce a doom laden curse upon this army, and it's commander, to prophesy that they would be doomed, and that they would die, a dreadful, and horrible death, even before they entered into combat."

Obadiah flexed his fingers as he continued, "And so after negotiating a price, this prophet, rode on his mule, towards the incoming army, along a steep and high mountain pass he rode, taking great care, so as not to put too much strain on the mule. After many hours of riding, he came to a spot, where he could see the invading army spread below him. He got off his mule, and prepared to deliver his mighty curse. But as he opened his mouth to speak, the voice that came out was not his own."

Obadiah sat back, and smirked at the rest, "Instead his voice was exchanged with that of the mule's, and he brayed, and he brayed, trying to curse the army. However the mule, with his new human voice spoke a blessing upon that army, fulfilling the will of the Gods, and the army went forth, and crushed the nation, taking the land for themselves."

"And that is how my people came to live in our land." He finished with a calm pronouncement.

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes takes the pearl offered by Invidia and inspects it slowly. "What a peculiar treasure, a nymph's lie. I wonder how many men have won it? Though, it is such a prize that it's beauty is beyond what one would suspect." He places the pearl in front of him next to his two pieces of jade.
After Obadiah finishes his tale, Nartromedes gives a quick laugh. "Your story is very humorous. Though, I wonder about it's honesty only because you never introduced yourself as Obadiah Muleblessed." Chuckling at his own joke, he looks to Essiyah to see how she guesses on the prophet's tale.

[Lyndworm]

Midhat's perpetual smile widens into a full-blown grin at Obadiah's accusation. "I'm afraid that you're mistaken, my friend; Rek is so much more tan 'just' a falcon. My story is true and my lie is in the mug." He lifts the mug, showing the bird skull. "I remember that one." says the bird at Midhat's shoulder. "That's another like me. He was hunting and I almost didn't spot him. Another second later and he'd have eaten me. A good hunt indeed, for one of us."

[PollyOliver]

Essiyah regards the long-haired man in silence for a moment.

"I must confess that I cannot tell the truth or the lie from your voice," she says, leaning forward. "But that sounds very much like something the gods would do." She holds her hand in the air over the mug. "I will say that I believe your words, and that your lie is in the cup."

She lifts it to see if she is right.

[PollyOliver]

“Well,” Essiyah says, rolling a sling bullet around in her hands. “Since we speak of gods, and of origins, and of things found, I will tell you a tale of my own.”

“Once, long ago, in the time before the seasons, there was a woman, and there was another woman. And one dwelled beneath in the darkness at the heart of the world and one above, the evening star in the darkness of the veil, and one was the lady of death and darkness and the other of love and war, and they were different but they were the same—or they would be the same, which in the affairs of gods can mean the same thing.

“And the lady above did walk the earth. From Enlil the scribe she tricked the Mes, the great founding stones on which all is built, and she shot across the midnight sky like a star to punish the wicked. In the far north, she met the mother of all mountains, Ebih, and reduced it to rubble. And with her charm and her might did the one above destroy her enemies, with the arts of love and of war.

“But that is not the story with which this telling is concerned—or rather, it is not the only story. For this is also a story of finding, and I would tell you how I earned my blade.”

Essiyah takes the long, hooked polearm from her back and lays it along the edge of the boat. The spike gleams wicked in the sun.

“It is said that when the one above went down into the below, she carried with her the seven Mes, and one was a lapis rod and line. In the temple there stands a statue, and at this statue’s feet are tokens, representations of the Mes, and one of these tokens is the lapis rod and line. And one morning, while the air was still cool, came into the temple a man. And the man tried to take the lapis rod and line, and when I tried to stop him, he drew a blade of bronze.

"And I stood beneath statue of the one above, and I felt her spirit with me, and so I deceived him with these,” Essiyah says with another near-wicked grin, laying one hand on her breast and the other on a well-rounded hip, “and then I defeated him with these,” she finishes holding out her hands in two clenched fists, “as a student of love and war would do. And in return, they gave me this.” Essiyah lifts the guisarme so those nearby can see, and then pulls it safely back inside the boat. She rattles the sling bullet around in her cup and then tips it back as if to drink. Then, quickly, she slams the cup upside down on the seat before her and spreads her hands wide.

[FyreByrd]

Obadiah smiles again, obviously a little more at ease in this company now, "I apologise, Master Rek." He states bowing to the falcon, "And to you Master Midhat," he continues.

Then turning to Essiyah, "Unfortunatley my skill at guessing, is matched by my skill at lying." He lifts the cup to display the piece of chalk secreted beneath it, and shrugs.

[A'den]

"I doubt the truth of your tale, one man against a Persian Temple in a city seems crazy without a band of brothers to support him." He reached to tilt back the cup and prove her lie with the lack of a stone.

~~

After a moment he realized everyone looked at him in an expectant way, as a man of few words Sef took a moment to marshal the thoughts and memories in his head before he spun his yearn.

"In the far north there once was a great warrior named Karne he was once a king of our people. He was the first King of the Mali brought us together, the hill man, the mountain man, and the river man as one man. In that day roamed the Mytharmali," He paused for a moment and seemed to look for the right word in Persian.

"The Bear Men you may call them. They roamed the land in a vast horde to the North, at night their camp fires numbered with the stars. They ravaged and burned across the lands of the River Mali those folk who did die to the claw, axe, or fire, they took prisoner and tortured until they died or were driven mad and became like the Bear Men. Each summer fall they burned across our land until winter and the faded back into the Western Forests. For five long winters they ravaged our lands until they came to the House of Twelve. The greatest warriors of the Mali gathered on the House of Twelve at the steps of the great mountains of our home. A dry summer had left bramble for furlongs across the hills up to the House of Twelve. When the horde came to the foot steps of the mountain Karne lit a great fire and the bramble blazed like the fires of heaven. The ash soaked the skin of men and beast, the fires burned flesh, and swords were bathed in blood. From the higher hills the great warriors of the Mali charged down the hills into the blaze. Soot and smoke burned their throats and the flames licked their flesh but the burning passion of the men set fire to their minds and their swords arm dealt blows that made the earth ring like thunder. In a ring of fire soaked in smoke and sweat the last great warrior stood against the greatest of the Bear Men. A towering beats of sinew and flesh, with the head of a great grizzly, arms like stone columns and the legs and torso of a giant. A great weeping wound in its side from the man that stood before it. It's maw red with the blood and gore it roared a challenge." Sef paused to let story sink, an ache burned in his arms and his eyes took on a far away look.

"Omerta! It cried. The call of honor. If I die you are forgiven, the wounded beast called, but if I live I will kill you! The man the stood before the beast roared a primal challenge with the fury of a beast. Sword and axe flashed and rung, claw and hammer fist smashed against each other. Blood soaked the earth. The beast rushed and charged if its jaws closed on the man it would be done. But the man's sword and struck off the head of the bear man its blood drenched him. With an animal cry the man held the great bears head aloft as the smoke cleared and the ash and blood covered everything. The Bear Men saw their slain chief and left the Mali home. To this day they are still marked with the ash of that battle. But the man who slew the Bear Chief could not slake his burning rage. Karne wise in his ways saw that some of the Bear still lived but it lived in the rage and spirit of the great Mali warrior that slew it. Though he heaped great honor on the hardiest of the Mali warriors he sent him away. The rage that burned in the man could only cool when memory faded and the sword that slew the beast was homed for the final time."

Sef looked around the group a fire in his eye.

"I am that man, and this is the sword that I cannot put down." He touched the greatsword on his back his fingers tightened until their white around its hilt then with a visible effort he let go of the blade and took up the cup and a piece of silver he juggled them for a a moment them let the cup face down on the table, the silver was gone.

[PollyOliver]

The sling bullet is underneath the cup.

"Perhaps bandits come in packs, but this one did not," Essiyah says. She takes it back and sets it in front of her on the seat of the boat.

I hope I did that right. El_Pablo wrote that if bluff beats sense motive by 10 or more, the guesser learns the wrong answer. Also rolling [roll0], though I'm not the guesser this time.

[El_Pablo]

Nartromedes listened intently to Essiyah's lesson and, then, her tale. He smiled through it all until the end when she spoke of deception, defeat, and promotion. His look appeared quizzical as he seemed to ponder how to feel about it. In the end, a small smile returned and he nodded slightly to her with respect in his eyes.
At Sef's tale, he seems drawn in by the tale of warfare and bloodshed, and even elates when Sef tells of the Bear Man's decapitation. "If that tale was a lie barbarian, you should be a sophist. I have rarely heard men speak with such passion." He looked at Invidia, seeing if she believed the mountain man's tale.