Sir Joanson Part I: The Bull of Castle Rock (IC)

[boldfont]

From Edward Topsell (1607) The Historie of Foure-Footed Beastes


http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/gorgon.gif

Among the manifold and divers sorts of Beasts which are bred in Affricke, it is thought that the Gorgon is brought foorth in that countrey. It is a feareful and terrible beast to beholdd, it hath high and thicke eie lids, eies not very great, but much like an Oxe or Bugils, but all fiery-bloudy, which neyther looke directly forwarde, nor yet upwards, but continuallye downe to the earth, and therefore are called in Greeke Catobleponta. From the crowne of their head downe to their nose they have a long hanging mane, which maketh them to looke fearefully. It eateth deadly and poysonfull hearbs, and if at any time he see a Bull or other creature whereof he is afraid, he presently causeth his mane to stand upright, and being so lifted up, opening his lips, and gaping wide, sendeth forth of his throat a certaine sharpe and horrible breath, which infecteth and poysoneth the air above his head, so that all living creatures which draw in the breath of that aire are greevously afflicted thereby, loosing both voyce and sight, they fall into leathall and deadly convulsions.

Before the Gorgon was known to man it was known and feared by fey. Indeed, Edward Topsell only heard of the beast from a traveling leprechaun and confused the description with certain African oxen that were known from the crusades.

In truth, that Bull of Iron was once a champion of the Fairy Queen and a knight in the service of a beloved Fey Baron, but was transformed by magic and envy. He coveted the land and power of his master. He desired the love of the people. He was obsessed with things above his station. This poison grew inside of him until it could not longer be contained. The knight became hard and bitter. Why not me? was always his question, until he decided that no one should have what he could not. He stomped the ground in frustration. His thunderous feet laid waste to countryside and destroyed his master's castle. The vile jealousy inside him spilled out into the land, and all the enjoyed what he could not were choked by it. Finally, he sprouted horns and hooves, and he gored his Lord Baron to death. That land has been a waste for an age now and would remain so until a hero came to vanquish the Bull of Castle Rock.

And so it was that the Fairy Queen selected a new Champion. A true Champion! Sir Walter Joanson, Slayer of the Fallen! It was him that would fight sin and betrayal with virtue and loyalty. He would brave the uncertain path the Castle Rock and make the land habitable again. With the aid of his friend and counsel Jon the Green, he would become the subject of bards and poets for a thousand thousand years. This is...


The Tale of Sir Joanson & The Bull of Castle Rock

Our tale begins as Sir Joanson and Jon the Green reach the end of the road to Castle Rock. It had become overgrown by neglect and was now indistinguishable from the fields and hills. This was a wilderness now. The way would be fraught with danger, and nearly as hard as defeating the Gorgon itself. For between here and there were foul creatures that could thrive in such a noxious environment. The air burned the lungs and did not welcome the good things in life. Such is the nature of envy: a poison of the soul that pushes away the very things it desires. From their current vantage point they could see the lay of the land (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/region-map-castle-rock.jpg).


B1 Map (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/b1-castle-rock-crawl1.jpg)




Welcome!

OCC Thread (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=15021205#post15021205)
You begin at the edge of Hex B1. You can clink the link in text to see the regional hex map. Each hex is like a dungeon with a minimap to explore.

[stack]

Jon of the Green

The older man strokes his wild beard while leaning on his rough-hewn staff. So, another knight given into my care, another soul to shepard, to guide. To guide to what though? Is not the one we seek a former charge? I failed him. Or he failed me.

He chose his path. I warned of avarice, of jealousy and greed. He was always bull-headed and obstinate, that one. And now many suffer because of it, the very land groans under his breath.

Will this one be better? Will he stand firm to the end? Do I lead him to victory, death, or damnation?

Why must I endure another bright-eyed champion, full of vigor and certainty? Haven't I done my part? I can see the city...but cannot cross the river.

He speaks softly, inviting any listeners to lean in closer to not miss his words. "We have reached the lands cursed by the fallen we seek. It is yet far to the castle where I expect him yet to linger. The land grows steep ahead of us; be on guard, we do not know what the rise may conceal."

[darklink_shadow]

Bravery, chivalry, honor and kindness; these are the codes passed down to Sir Joanson. "Thank you, Jon of the Green. Be on your guard as well. The extra pair of eyes is helpful. I hope this bull can be taught a more righteous way to live. But if we must, we will cleanse this land by defeating the bull. Regardless of the end, we must press on."

Drawing his greatsword, Walter pressed on.

[stack]

Jon's brow furrows. "Do not forget, the struggle is not against flesh and blood alone, for your foe was as you are, once. The fallen may seem monsters now, but they where not transformed by foul enchantment but by their own desires and lusts. Your blade is sharp, but that is not enough. Heed my words." He follows a half step behind his charge, making full use of his staff to aid him in carrying his heavy spirit.

[darklink_shadow]

Walter nods, looking ahead but talking to his companion. "Flesh and bone is all how to vanquish. I trust in your words and take them to heart, but my tools are words and a blade. I have nothing else. But if we can, I would like to not slay these fallen. Any mistake, no matter how grand, may be corrected with enough repentance; the betrayer redeemed and absolved from his sins. We must simply discover how. Should we fail in this, the world will forever lose a valiant soul to the void only because it was imperfect and corruptible. I fear nothing is otherwise, so I would prefer to not judge the fallen too harshly. Regardless, redeemable or not, we can do nothing until we find the way. Direct my path, noble guide."

Walter walks down the slope in front of him, making a straight path towards B2.

[boldfont]

The slope steepens quickly until it can properly be called a cliff. If Sir Walter and Jon the Green are to take the straight path, they must climb. The closest and safest way, without taking a detour, is done in three stages. The first ledge is a mere 20 feet down. The second is 30. The last is a sheer drop 50 feet down.


Climb DC 10, 15, and 25
with rope DC 5, 10, and 15, but the rope is not retrievable from the last stage unless you have a special trick up your sleeve.
Falls hurt 1d6/10ft, but worse than that they require a Reflex DC15 save or you go tumbling down the next stage as well.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter Johanson is not afraid of little cliffs! However, it may be wise for another path to be taken. "Jon, I think it may be unwise to march down these slopes." Looking to the right, he sees the gentler path down. "What say you, shall we take that path to the right? It leads more towards the forest. We could potentially camp hidden under its canopy, and then march along the banks to the castle."

[stack]

Jon studies the slope. "Perhaps we will find a gentler path. There was once a road servicing the castle and surround, we need but find it. Even in disrepair in must be more inviting."

suggest we head right and see if the scree is more inviting. Otherwise moving to the next hex for an easier path would be good.

I'm totally stealing your ideas for the exploration game I'll run one of these days.

Also, pretty sure Jon could heal us up if we just slid down, but wouldn't want to risk good damage rolls. And he has no rope (vow of poverty and all that.)

[darklink_shadow]

Pointing with his greatsword, Sir Joanson gestures to the scree that had caught his eye. "That way then." Keeping an eye out for whatever dangers the taint of the fallen may have caused, Sir Joanson begins his decent. His path will take him southwards, and to the east until he comes across the skree, and which point in time he will head due north to the second bit of scree, and then around the boulder, clockwise until he reaches a straight shot to C1.

Feel free to interrupt his path at any time, but I don't want to waste time by going 5ft and waiting for a response all the time. So that is his path until he comes across something or he reaches his destination.

[boldfont]

His path is pleasant and even relaxing. The morning sun shines through the tree branches as Sir Walter and Jon pass under a small stand of trees. This far from the Gorgon's lair the taint of his betrayal has not yet corroded the natural beauty of the wilderlands. Sir Walter and Jon take several opportunities the enjoy the view from their high vantage point.


Spot checks (didn't invest much here, didja?)
Jon [roll0]
Sir Walter [roll1]

[boldfont]

Jon of the Green spots them before they begin their decent down the skree.

map

http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/b1-castle-rock-crawl21.jpg


Two small bands of goblins, with about 10-20 warriors each, exit the caves in the cliff face. Hunting parties or patrol most likely. This many in the day must mean these hills are crawling with goblins at night. Of course, "goblin" was just another word for "nasty fey". There were all sorts of goblins in the fey realms. These were the greedy hill dwelling kind. They cared only for power and gold, generally. Jon and Sir Walter would have to be careful if they wanted to avoid a robbery attempt.

The closest goblin party is facing our hero. One of the goblins raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He is surveying the top of the skree...


Spot
[roll0] (+2 ranks, but -4 sun and height)
vs hide
Jon [roll1]
Sir W [roll2]


Sir Walter does not take cover in time. The goblin is pointing up the hill and saying something to his superiors.

[stack]

Jon whispers from behind his stoney refuge. "Where there are no good men to resist, evil festers. If you allow, I shall try to speak with them."

(If the knight agrees)

Jon walks forward slowly, hands visible, calling in a clear, calm voice. "We mean you no harm. Let us pass in peace and no blood shall be shed today."

I won't roll diplomacy yet, as it might influence Darklink's actions, but the modifier is +17

Also, seeing Jon's lack of goods should help dissuade them, right?

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter is not on a mission of war against sentient life, nor any other life, and seeks only to redeem or defeat the fallen. Leaving other creatures be is preferable unless they are evil beings that are of grave threat to his Queen's people. Goblins are not wicked by nature, so Sir Walter agrees with the diplomatic approach.

Hefting his blade to his shoulder, Sir Walter allows Jon to take point, but readies to charge to the aid of his guide.

[boldfont]

The gobins drop their guard as Jon approaches peacefully. Jon relates his offer of peace and goodwill, and asks for safe passage. He is informed that the "Goblin King" (self styled King obviously, since these are the Fairy Queen's lands) will hear the request. They tell Jon that he has to follow them into their caves to see the King. They seem to Jon to been receptive to the request and will lead him to the "Goblin King" in earnest. They do not appear to be aware that Sir Walter is at the top of the hill, armed, watching and waiting.

[darklink_shadow]

Keeping his weapon at the ready but not threateningly, Sir Walter walked down. "Hail, noble goblins, I would that I am also given the chance to meet with your Noble King. I come to rid his lands of danger."

[stack]

After the young knight announces himself, Jon waves his closer. "There are only us two. We will be honored speak with your king." No true king, but we are not here for them. Once a proper ruler oversees these lands they can be dealt with, perhaps peacefully.

[boldfont]

The goblins lead our hero to the entrance of the centre-most cave. The mouth of the cavern emits a constant foul smelling draft. Bound wooden planks serve as a walkway. The inside is dimly lit by torches and the walls rough in most places, smooth and hewn in others. The caves are natural formations that have been expanded into a vast honeycomb network.

You've got to wear this. says the lead goblin, holding forth two raggedy sacks.

[stack]

Jon looks at the sacks, understanding the intent immediately. He whispers to Sir Joanson, "Obviously they hold the path to their king a secret. I know not if they will keep their word. It is your quest, will you trust them or shall we leave and press on through the hills without their permission? Either road if fraught with peril."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looked at the sacks, then at his companion. "Inform them that this is a great disrespect to honest travelers, even more so to Knights on a quest to cleanse the lands. Tell them their king would not like such disrespect shown to Knights who willing act in a service to him. Perhaps by seeming outraged, the goblins will give in. I wish no ill upon these creatures, but I am not foolish enough to believe they hold my tenets as dearly as I do. While you talk, I will do my best to look upset."

With a loud thump, Sir Walter dropped the business end of his enchanted blade into the dirt, and frowned.

[boldfont]

After Jon relays Sir Walter's message the goblins huddle and consult. They express their sincere apologies, but fear that if they present an armed outsider who it not wearing the "visitor's safety bag of shame" that they shall be tossed into the arena to fight the Grolax. They do not wish to offend the great knight, but custom (and their individual health) demand that Jon and Sir Walter wear the bags.


The former successful Dip check is still in play. They are in earnest.

[stack]

(this was written before reading Boldfont's post)

Jon nods, turning back to the goblins. "My companion is a knight, on a quest from the rightful ruler of these lands, the Fairy Queen herself. As such, we must be accorded due respect and will not suffer to be blinded. If you will not show us to your king unhindered, then leave us to proceed about our business. Attempt to stop us and you will face the Queen's justice."

dip still at +17

[stack]

"Perhaps you can send a messenger to your king, bearing our petition. It should be no great matter to allow us safe passage. Then there would be no need to blind us for your safety and we would not need be insulted." Or vulnerable.

[boldfont]

The lead goblin smiles and nods at what appears to be a perfectly reasonable request. "Noble knight... doesn't want visitor's bag... here to help... insult. Gottcha! After writing all this down in what appear to be incomprehensible scribbles the led goblin tucks the note into a subordinate's belt, smacks him across the head, and he's off! In the meantime, both sides are left staring awkwardly at their feet.
So... Do you like.. Stuff?

[stack]

Well, there are no shrimp, so it is not the oddest beginning of a quest I have had.

Jon clears his throat. "Ehm. Stuff? Erm...right. Have your people encountered the gorgon?"

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter reaches into his bag and pulls out about a foot of rope, his 30ft chain and a few torches. "I like stuff. Do you trade? I have rope of quality, metal rope, and good sticks for making good fire. Do you like my stuff? I have lots more rope."

Obviously simpler minded, Sir Walter believes this goblin would enjoy passing the time bartering. For all Sir Walter knew, this little green man might even trade something Sir Walter wanted in exchange for something Sir Walter had, but did not desperately need.

Adding after a brief pause, "I also have... no never mind. You probably don't want my special hammer."

[boldfont]

"Special Hammer"? What makes it so special? says the wart ridden captain as he hefts the over sized (to him) hammer in the air.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter shook his head. "No, no, you wouldn't want it. It's not that special. It just makes building things easier. You probably don't like to build things. I have some good wood for making torches though. Not as good as my... no, never mind about the hammer."

Sir Walter smiled and patted his pack. " I mean, what would you even build? Your own castle? Sure, your king would like it, and reward you forever, but that's a lot of work. Or a nice little trap to catch rabbits in? Well, but you probably don't even like rabbit stew. There sure are a lot of things a special hammer can build. But you wouldn't want them, would you? No, you might want this metal rope though!"

[boldfont]

Give me that hammer! says the greedy goblin, licking his lips.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter held up his hand. "Now hold on. You probably wouldn't like it. Besides, we are supposed to be trading. What can you trade me for a few torches, some rope and a dumb old hammer?"

[boldfont]

[roll0]
[roll1]


OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!
The warty lead goblin goes ballistic! He begins sorting through his pockets, picking out rocks and twigs. Then he searches his subordinates, picking their pockets! He comes back with a handful of raw minerals. Granite with something shiny and gold inside it. This he holds up triumphantly to Sir Walter.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter frowns and rubs his chin. "OK, I will trade it to you, but you have to make me a deal. You have to keep it and take good care of it. Use it to build things. If you hit people with it, it will lose it's powers for a whole year. And one more thing, you have to give it to your son when he gets old enough to help you build things." Sir Walter pockets what he thinks will mostly be rubbish, and carefully hands the goblin the hammer.

"Let me teach you how it works. First, it can be used to build anything! Anything at all! It can't do it all by itself, you have to help it, but if you learn more about building things by trying, and you work hard, you can turn bits of metal and wood into things people will give you lots of things for! But it won't be easy. Try very hard. You can do it, the hammer told me that you are the most special goblin here, and you can learn how to build all sorts of things!"

Feeling rather content with the idea of a goblin valuing hard work and earning his living by creating, Sir Walter smiled down at the little green man. If he kept his word, his line would become master smiths one day. Sir Walter spent the rest of the time teaching what little he knew about building things to the goblin and praised him for any good questions or observations.

[stack]

Jon coughs to hide his chuckle. Well, he has a brain after all. And a good heart, too. Perhaps he will be one of the good ones.

[boldfont]

"Warty", which could actually be his name for all Sir Walter knew, excitedly completed the transaction. Like kids over a wooden horse, he showed his new hammer to his friends. They gawked and asked for turns holding the hammer, posing with it, and fantasizing about all the castles they would build.

That's when the messenger returned. He dutifully held out the Goblin "King's" reply. It read...

[Artman77]

King Arguk the Torrible will nut be insulted!
Giv 1 gift to atome for insults and no wearn bag.
Giv 100 golds for no attaking by goblins.
Monsturs coud stil attak.
Do not refuze!!

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter sighed. The strong brutish types always become king in a society that didn't care about crafting.

Placing a hand on the goblin he had trade him, he pulled him aside. "My friend, I'm sorry. It appears your king wishes to go to war with me. Now I will never be able to show you the best parts of your hammer. I'll never teach you how to build a castle." Genuinely upset, Sir Walter rubbed his eye with his free hand. "If only somehow your people could be free, and someone else could be King. Someone smarter, and more special. Someone so special he was... I don't know. Just someone special. Well, even if the hammer did choose you, you probably would never want to be a king."

I have +10 diplomacy! :D

[boldfont]

Mr. Warty seems to see where this might be going.
Uh-uh. The king is king. He reflects on his new hammer and his lost gold. He thinks about all the pain he will suffer if he doesn't take the two big peoples to the King. You gotta wear the bag.


Diplomacy is not Card Blanche to make small minded monsters do anything you want. :smallamused:

[darklink_shadow]

"The king may not survive our encounter. Please stay out of the fight. I like you, I don't want you to die." Looking to his companion, he sighed. "Jon, wearing the sack is suicide. I do not want to hurt these creatures. But I will not die in their stead. I hope you can find a peaceful way out of this. We could just try to leave. Violently, if needed. My blade is merciful, but swift."

With good enough rolls it is. The DC to convince someone to outright kill themselves is only like 40 or so. Besides, I just wanted to stage a coup. With enough support, the other soldier might surrender, and the Goblin King would be forced into single combat.

Also, my blade is literally enchanted to deal non-lethal damage at my request.

[boldfont]

Mr. Warty's eyes brighten. He appears to have been struck by an idea (rare, but it happens).

What ifs he says, even as the idea formulates, I brings you to the King, and THEN put the bag on your head?!?

If Sir Walter understands correctly (and he does because it's in the exposition) the warty goblin is proposing that before they enter the King's chamber they make it appear like they've been wearing the bags the whole time. Then, only moments later, he will remove the bags. Of course, this plan presents considerable risk to all involved. Sir Walter and Jon because they will still be vulnerable for those brief seconds. Warty because if the King learns of his deception, he may be killed. Such is the nature of Diplomacy. Either everybody wins, or everybody dies.


I do not strictly follow the PHB rules on Diplomacy. This is pretty common. See "Diplomancer" for details. A 40 for suicide is broken to say the least. That said, it does have an effect. I prefer a "reasonable influence" approach. I even use the table in certain situations.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter smiled down at the little bugger and gave him a solid pat on the back. "You, my friend, are very clever. No wonder the hammer chose you. What was your name? I am Sir Walter. I have made a good friend, methinks."

[boldfont]

The little darling snot drop grins. His snaggle teeth point every which way, but it is a smile nonetheless. My name is Runz Giantbrain. Indeed, he does appear to be smarter than his kin, if his diction is any indication. He looks fondly at his new hammer and Sir Walter can tell he is thinking of all the castles he intends to build. Smarter. Not wiser.

[stack]

Jon allows the young knight to formulate his plan. "I can ward us against harm. Such protection is brief and would be broken by any hostile action by us, but would suffice for the brief time we were encumbered. It would take a powerful will indeed to overcome it."

sanctuary (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/sanctuary.htm), will DC 18, 22 if they count as humanoid or monstrous humanoid, which I presume they do, cast just before getting bagged and lasting 5 rounds.

[boldfont]

But Runz is not alone. One of his troops, a particularly fugly looking fat and squat goblin, pipes up. I iz gon tell da King on yoo iff yoo don use tha bag Runz. I haff no hamma! An I haff no reeson to risk mah neckie neck. Clearly, they are not unanimous. There are 19 goblins, including Runz, on this patrol. From where Sir Walter is he can see at least two more squads in the valley. He looks back into the cave. It seemed inherently dangerous. But looking out onto the valley, he knew he couldn't just up and walk away from this without either meeting the "King" or drawing blood all the way through the valley. If he had to fight, it would be better to fight here and now, than in the cave. If this king was reasonable, the cave was better. Darn it! Why didn't he bring 18 more hammers?

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter shook his head. "Its not the sneak attack I worry about. Being lost in the lair of your enemy is certain doom. There is a line between bravery and stupidity, and this is far from that line on the wrong side."

Looking around him, Sir Walter didn't see a way to leave peacefully. However, he could still leave without bloodshed. If he could arrive in the king's presence and slay him, a less vulgar goblin could become king. But that was not his mission.

"Runz, tell me of your laws. How did the king become king? Is there a way to challenge him for the throne?"

[boldfont]

"Runz, tell me of your laws. How did the king become king? Is there a way to challenge him for the throne?"

Grk Zibble Jit Jit!!! Runz Giantbrain is now arguing in gibberish goblin with the squat one. Sir Walter and Jon gather that the squat goblin intends to tattle on Runz one way of the other. The argument is reaching a crescendo when a third nose picking goblin answers for him.
That be esy. Jus choppa head off. he says making a morbid drawing the finger across the neck motion.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nods. "Is he brave enough to accept my challenge or is he a coward, I wonder." Grabbing the goblin bickering with Runz, he made a loud SHH! sound and set him back down. "Runz, send someone to tell the king he has insulted my honor by threatening my person. I will have satisfaction from him. Unless he is a coward, I demand a duel in single combat. On the open fields outside his cavern. If he refuses, he is an honorless coward, who has no right to rule over strong brave goblins." Crossing his arms he address the goblins there. "As King, once I defeat this impostor king, I will make my first act to go forth and defeat the bad guys north of here. My second act will be to gather special hammers and bring them here. I will gather as many as I can. Probably about a hundred. And my third act will be to demand a year competition of builders. And finally, I will go find other bad guys to beat up, and I will take their stuff too."

Sir Walter wondered if he needed to talk dumbly to get his point across, but he would rather rick sounding dumb to them, then confuse them. Sir Walter hoped the idea of having hammers should Sir Walter become their "king" would inspire them to not attack him, should they be ordered to. "Any of you boyz that gonna fight me are gonna get hurt when I become king. Any you boyz who help are gonna get hammers. I'm bigger and stronger than puny king who hides in cave. Strong Kings go fight monsters to the north. Does puny king fight monsters in the north? I do. I will go beat them until they run away forever."

[boldfont]

At the mention of the monster to the north the nineteen goblins turn a pale sickly green. A moment of silence. Then Mr Sir Walter. I'll go tell the King. But you fight the Bull? You die.
Runz runs off into the cave to relay Sir Walter's message personally.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter chuckles. "No, my friends. I can defeat the bull. I am stronger than him. Your king should have thought of that before he threatened me. There are plenty of creatures out there stronger than what you have met. Creatures bigger than mountains even!" Deep down, however, Sir Walter worried about this bull. He did not want to fight it anyways, but he was worried the bull would offer him no chance to talk to him before fighting. Sir Walter doubted he could both fend off the bull's attacks and talk to it. He might have to try to put it down, and that task might not come easily.

[stack]

Jon puts his hand on the knight's shoulder. "It is a good thing you have tried to do. Even if it does not bear fruit now the effort was worthwhile. In the end, they must answer for the choices they make; you have tried to show them another road but cannot make them walk it."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter frowns at his more worldly companion. "It's a better path, why wouldn't they go down it." Sighing, Sir Walter contemplated the immediate future. Likely the goblin king was a coward. Why else would he demand sacks to cover all his visitor's heads? Not a very noble king.

[stack]

"It is easy to continue doing as one has always done. Easier still to do nothing as all around you succumbs to corruption. To blame others, to fool yourself into thinking you cannot change matters, this is easy. Each time you do nothing, it becomes easier to do so again. Acting, risking yourself to make things better, this is hard indeed."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nodded in silence. He didn't fully understand. He was raised to act. He doubted his parents or mentors would ever allow him to do nothing. Pity and shreds of grief washed over his expression as the thought of being stuck in such a harsh cycle made him worry about Goblinkind. What a terrible waste. Poor Runz. Poor little fellas. Something needs to change.

[boldfont]

You guys seem ready to go, and I don't want to wait on Artman for this small instigating post. (Sorry Artman!) So I'll just write it up myself.

A large beefy goblin emerges from the cave. He is better equipped than the others and clearly a goblin of some status in their messed up savage society.
Tha King of Goblins, his most municifent and powerful majusty sends this message in reply.
He tosses a bloody "vistor's bag" on the ground.
He sayz: "The king does not bend laws for tresspassers nor negotiate for duelz with traitors"
The others stand at attention, wide eyed and frightened. They have been reminded of how things work around here, and what happens to goblins like Runz.
You will wear tha bags of visitor shame or suffa tha consequenzez! GOBLINZ! AT DA READYNESS!
At his command the retinue of smaller pathetic looking goblins snap to attention in a poorly shaped military formation. They hold their spears in both hands at attention. Their chests are comically puffed out as far as they will stretch.
What iz your answer Elfy Folks oof tha inferior Farae Qween?

[stack]

"It is for you to make the decision, Sir Joanson. I am bound to stand by you regardless. May we be guarded on our road." With his last word, a shimmering passes over them both, giving a sense of purity and strength.

magic circle against evil (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/magicCircleAgainstEvil.htm), +2 deflection AC, +2 resistance to saves, immune to evil mind blah blah blah

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter smiled. "I'm sorry. I must defend my Queen's honor above all else. Your tribe may live, but you may not. Prepare yourself, pray to your gods, for when I come, you will surely die." Addressing the mob. "Any of you who attack me now, while I defend my Queen's honor, join your fate with his. I do not wish to hurt you, but I will kill you if you stand against me." Back to the grunt. "I've given you sufficient time. I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you have crossed a line."

If I win initiative, I will use my bone crushing strike!

[boldfont]

The Battle of Hammerhead Cave

Hammerhead cave, as it came to be know after this most famous battle, twas located on a small cliff side. The decision to fight was not an easy one, but the brave Sir Walter Joanson and his trusty adviser Jon of the Green had been moved to action by the cruel beheading of the Goblin Runz Giantbrain. Sir Walter could now see the contents of the bloody bag oozing out, and it was the unfortunate Runz. His brain was not that giant after all.


Le Initiative

Bad Guys [roll0]

Sir Walter Joanson [roll1]
Jon of the Green [roll2]

I'm going to work on a morale roll system for determining when they let up. Obviously they aren't the sort to hang on til the bitter end.


Combat Map R1

http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/gob-lair-enterance-combat-round-1.jpg

[darklink_shadow]

Fully enraged at the discovery of his newly made friend's demise, Sir Waltor took a single step forward, unleashing a blow meant to shatter bones, and crush moral. In sacred defense of his Queen, in vicious vengeance for his friend, and in noble pursuit of a better way of life for the still living goblins, Sir Walter committed himself fully to the conflict.

His enchanted sword would deal staggering damage, but he never struck lethally in direct combat. In no way, however did he cringe from a Coup de grace, if he deemed to target unfit to live. He may have been knighted, but he was no paladin. His oaths were to protect his Queen, and serve her. He took no further oaths save to himself. And some people could not live, lest they depreciate the value of life for those around them.

Mind on the task at hand, Sir Walter roared as he sword leapt at the undesirable goblin. Love for his Queen, despair for his friend, hope for the others and hate for the murderous scum before him drove him. Red.


Bone crushing Blow
[roll0] to hit
[roll1] damage

[boldfont]

WHuMP!
Sir Walter's magic sword crashes down on the beefy goblin elite. His helmet caves in and his eyes nearly pop out from the jarring blow! But Sir Walter Joanson's trusty sword doth not kill unless he wills it to. The hit was just enough to concuss the goblin.


Special Morale rules for this situation:
Opposed Intimidate check to see if goblins are shaken. The trigger is acts like this. DM's call, don't ask.
Old school Morale check using 2d6. Three triggers:
(i) defeat leader
(ii) defeat half
(iii) Critical hit or special
Base is 12
-2 shaken
-2 leader down
-4 down to half
+4 King is present
-8 King is dead
Confused? Don't worry, it's more of a DM determination I'm letting you in on than something you need to get. Normally I would do this behind a DM screen.

Intimidate
Sir Walter [roll0] (+4 size, +2 circumstance)
Gobs [roll1]

Morale
[roll2] Above 8!


One hit...
one hit!
one hit


One hit!
ooo...

They stare disbelievingly at the power that has just been displayed. They whisper and mutter One hit to each other in utter astonishment. It takes them a moment to realize that they could be next, but when the realization comes they begin to scatter.
AAAAAaaaaaaHHHhhh!!! Goblins shriek and flee like noonday rats. An easy victory.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter flexes his muscles and looks down at the lump before him. "Little ones, fear not. You are not my enemy. You are my friends. This one here," Sir Walter kicked the downed goblin, "insulted my Queen. You have not. You have suffered under the weight of your fat, evil king. I will defeat him, and I will free you."

His mission, while important, was nothing compared to saving an entire society. The bull would be stopped, but this King was evil. The Bull was just corrupted. "Jon, we must purge this King. My goblin friends, can one of you help me find your King?"

Kneeling besides the goblin, he gestured for Jon. "I haven't decided what to do with him yet. He is a brute, a mean spirited thug. I am not convinced he is completely without salvation. Help me tie him up. We'll bring him with us."

Sir Walter will also recharge his maneuvers.

[stack]

"After such a blow I doubt he will be stirring soon and any that awaken him could also untie him. If we are to see this king, let us be on with it." He helps tie the goblin nevertheless.

He calls out to the terrified goblins, "Who will befriend the mighty knight who struck down the false king's champion with one blow? Lead us to the pretender and your friendship will be remembered."

diplomacy still at +whoa (17)

[boldfont]

Most of the goblins continue to flee in terror. Their arms fly in the air and their tiny croaking voices carry throughout the valley. They are not listening to what Sir Walter is saying.
Three, however, stay and hear his kind words. Even vile wretches like these have some heart for a man of Sir Joanson's caliber to speak to.

Mah name is Toox. I will show yoo. says one brave goblin. Runz was mah frind. and the other two chime in agreement. Folla meh an I tak you. But will be dangrous. Otha goblin stop us an we may hafta fight. Many traps an even ah don know tham allz.

Sir Walter and Jon warily follow the three goblins into the cave. It isn't long before the purpose of the wooden walkway becomes very clear. There is a sudden drop in the cave floor and the walkway is suspended in air on a series of rickety sticks. It wobbles a little as Toox steps out over the chasm.
Don worry. Iz very saff.

Chasm indicated by dark purple. Orange is the walkway.
http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-e-pc.jpg


They pass a small cavern manned by at least two goblins and equipped with a giant bell. Their guide and the bell goblin exchange words.
Toox reports back He sayz tha he won ring tha bell rightaway. He owe me favor. We haff only short time bafore bell ringz an all gobs wake up to fight. Iz day. Mosta us iz sleeping. Toox solemnly leads them a little further, and here they run into trouble. This is a goblin weigh station where all the goblins have to drop off something valuable from the day's foraging before coming home. A particularly nasty and ugly looking goblin peers out at Sir Walter over the counter.


Spot DC 10
Jon [roll0]
Sir [roll1]


Sir Walter immediately sees that the little bugger has his hand on a lever of some sort. No doubt it triggers some trap or other that Sir Walter does not want to be on the receiving end of.

Fortunately, this goblin seems to care little about the fact that Sir Walter is double his his height, not a goblin, and not wearing the bag of shame. Like a true bureaucrat and with all the enthusiasm of someone who has been doing the same boring job for years on end, the goblin at the weigh station says in a bored mechanical voice Shiny thinz pleeze.

Toox drops in a small glossy rock. You hafta do it too he explains. Sir Walter wonders momentarily was happens to visitors who have the bag over their head and don't know what is being requested of them. Fortunately, Sir Walter does not have a bag over his head and he has plenty of shiny things.

[darklink_shadow]

Checking his coin purse, Sir Walter pulls out ten silver coins. "Shineyz fer me and 'im." Sir Walter slurs, pointing to Jon. "I tooks his stuffs. Ders extras ther. You shush that I takes his stuffs."

Sir Walter interned to bring the brute with him, and he is. Even if he is dragging the fat goblin behind him.

[boldfont]

Sir Walter pays the toll, and the toll lady in turn pays him no mind.
They cross the rickety bridge which sways to and fro with each passing step. A moment of doubt passes into the brave Knight's mind concerning the alleged security goblin engineering can provide.

http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-e-pc1.jpg

After crossing they decent down a slope and the caves open up to a wondrous natural cavern. Rock formations that would be the marvel of the realm if they were ever given over to dwarves! But they are in the hands of goblins, and instead of marvels they have built an arena of death and violence. Sir Walter and Jon can clearly see the rust red stains of dried blood on the arena floor in the torch light. This place smells of decay, feces, and abuse. The eyes water, either from the heartache or the smell.

stawp sir nite...
Toox stretches out a hand to signal danger. He approaches and whisper is Sir Walter's ear.
Aheadz there be awicked bads goblin that you must killz. No wordz or talkings. Slay them now and we can goes on to the Kings. Jus the boy goblins though, and not the pretty gurl goblins please. You can no sneakings like me, so there is no choices but to runs and kills fast. Do it or alls is lost.

Around the corner of the rockwall Sir Walter and Jon can hear what sounds to be a hideous monster sucking the brains out of some poor feminine creature that can only moan weakly in reply. It is true that Sir Walter lacks the stealth to slip by unannounced, but his clanking armour has not caused whatever it is around the corner concern yet. Most interesting...


http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-c-pc.jpg

[darklink_shadow]

Swift justice to the wicked, but a kind hand to anyone not yet proven foul.

"I cannot simply walk up and kill a man because you say he is bad. Tell me their crimes, or I will have no choice but approach them openly." Sir Walter frowns at the environment. Filth. Squalor. A true king would do better by his people. Bastard!

Sir Walter does, however, release the big goblin he was dragging. "Jon, be sure our prisoner of war doesn't escape. Took, smack him on the head if he wakes up."

[boldfont]

Is Thief! replies Toox a bit too loudly. He corrects himself Is thief Sire! An is nasty friend to the King. Is always pushing small gobs an is dangerous. Es gonna wake alla sleping gobs and tellum to fights you. Truly!

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter frowns. Knocking a man's head into jelly won't kill him. And he couldn't afford to have to fight all the goblins. Without a word, Sir Walter walks up and whacks the goblin. After the first strike he says, "I'm sorry, I need to get in to see the king, and my guide says you'll be in the way."

[roll0]
[roll1]

If he falls, I will nod to the female and say "Ma'am. Sorry bout your boyfriend."

[boldfont]

Quick as a cat whose hind side is on fire, Sir Walter waltzes up to the kissing couple, pries the boy goblin from the girl, and Bumpf! wallops his on the head. He sinks to the floor most eloquently.
Ma'am. Sorry bout your boyfriend says Sir Walter. She shrieks in terror and tears rolls freely down her face. You MONSTER! She calls, loud enough to wake the dead. She throws her feeble fists at Sir Walter's mighty thigh.
It is then that Toox strolls out from behind Sir Walter and says So babe! Can wez hava dates now?

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looks at Toox, then at the goblin woman. "I see. Toox, you deceived me. Care to explain yourself? I'm sorry miss. DOn't worry, he is only sleeping. MY blade doesn't kill. Unless I tell it to." Grabbing Toox by the long, ugly ear, he scolds him. "You know, if we were in my homeland, I would beat you for lying to me. You don't have time for a date, you are my guide here. Miss, do you know Toox?"

[boldfont]

Through large sobs and a trembling lip the girl goblin manages an answer.

Diplomacy [roll0]

He TOOX. He be old boyfriend, but tha King gimme new better boyfriend wit mohr golds. She gives Toox the raspberry. PBBBBTTtttttppp! Now I no like Toox. And I no like you! On cue, a band of goblins emerge from the caves ahead. They look frail, but there are many and they are armed with pointy sticks. However mundane, those sticks would surely hurt. Toox's ex points an accusatory finger at Sir Walter. INTRUDERS!
That idiot goblin Toox has selfishly put you in danger, and the consequences are now apparent to him. Is that guilt on his face? So sorry Sire! Forgiveness? he asks, even as he and his friends flee to the bleachers. This is bad. This is very very bad. Sir Walter knows he needs a guide down here. It is critical that Toox, or some other willing goblin, stay with him, but it looks like his tour guides are about to bolt. He also knows that the incident with the boyfriend goblin has put him in an impossible social situation.

Map and initiative to come. I have work right now. You are welcome to roll for yourselves and even the Gobs. You can also try and diffuse the situation anyway you want, but you've failed the dip roll with the girl. It was a passive roll in reaction to your "don't worry" talk, so I made it for you. You may have noticed that I don't put much stock in roll ownership. Below are the Gob stats if you wish to narrate the hits and spell effects for this encounter.

Gob Stats (not a secret)
Goblin Grunts
GoblinWarrior level 1 (skill points 8) Light foot soldier
hp 3 (0d8+1d8+-1), CR 0.5 XP Neutral Evil Small Humanoid
Init +2 Speed 30 AC 16, Touch 13, flat footed 14 ( Leather, Shield, light wooden)
(+2 Dex, +1 size, +2 armor, +1 shield)
Melee Base Attack 1 Grapple -3, Single Attack Morningstar +2 (1d6) or Javelin +5 (1d4)
Full Attack Spear +2 (1d4) or Javelin +5 (1d4) range 30; Space 5ft.; Reach 5
SA , SQ Darkvision 60
Fort +1, Ref +2, Will +0,
Str 10, Dex 15, Con 9, Int 11, Wis 10, Chr 6
Skills Climb 2, Hide 5.5, Intimidate -2, Jump 2, Listen 0.5, Move Silently 5, Ride 6, Search 0, Spot 0, Swim -2 Feats: Armour Prof Heavy, Armour Prof Light, Armour Prof Medium, Martial Weap Prof, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency, Tower Shield Proficiency, Weapon Focus(Ranged); Languages Common, Goblin

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter sighs at the situation as a whole. "Technically, I am not an intruder. Your king demanded I go see him. I am truly sorry miss. Toox tricked me. But your new boyfriend is fine, just knocked out. Other goblins, do you see the lump behind me? A single stroke of my blade felled him, you have no chance. Surrender, and no harm will come to you. Drop your weapons. Now."

Sir Walter, despite his words, doubts they will listen. So far goblins haven't proven noble or smart. As such, Sir Walter readies himself to smack the first goblin bearing arms to enter his threatened space.

[stack]

I fear we can expect no better from them. The most amiable has already suffered for aiding us, how could we expect the rest to not react to that? Jon leans in to whisper, "We must expect treachery wherever we do not see open violence. I fear they are quite corrupt. It is a sorry thing, but we must press on."

A shimmering ward appears around Jon, daring any to attack him. "Onward, let your merciful blade strike true."

sanctuary on self, will DC 18/22 humanoid to attack

Jon of the Green (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=540541)
M NG Leser aasimar (magic blooded) healer, Level 5, Init +1, HP 27/27, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 11, Flat-footed 15, Fort +5, Ref +2, Will +4, Base Attack Bonus 2
Quarterstaff +2 (1d6+1, x2)
VOP (+5 Armor, +1 Dex)
Abilities Str 11, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 24
Condition sanctuary 5/5 rnds

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter gives his companion a hard look. Not bothering to whisper, her replies, "Jon, I am going to defeat that Bull as soon as I defeat this evil king. The one is far more corrupt than the other, and yet it can be redeemed. So too can these tiny green men. Jon, maybe the world has been too harsh on you, or maybe it has just been not harsh enough to me, but I find your lack of faith disturbing. There was one pure and honest soul. There will be more." Eye back on the threat, Sir Walter glares. Defeating this king may not bring about much peace. We need an inspirational leader to take over. Toox will fall corrupt. Hmmmm Forming a fledgling plan, he asks him companion: "Jon, I know others can return the spark of life to the dead. Can you?"

[boldfont]

The Heroic Battle Over Toox's Ex-Girlfriend

Toox wails out a cry for mercy that is sharpened by the pangs of unrequited love. Noooo...! My Sorry Sire! Forgiveness! I loves hers. I helps you an you please helps mes whilst I k'napps mah lovelies! The girlfriend for her part screams bloody murder in goblin while pointing at Sir Walter. Duk DUK DURKA DURKA!! Whatever she might be saying, Sir Walter is certain it is not polite. This is pure idiocy are its worst. He calls out his warning to surrender as the freshly woken goblins advance. Curse that moron Toox!

Map

http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-c-bf-fight-1.jpg


Intimidate and Initiative


Intimidate
Sir Walter Joanson [roll0] DC 11 or Shaken (-2 global and more likely to "break" morale)

Initiative
Gobs [roll1]

Sir Walter Joanson [roll2]
Jon of the Green [roll3]


Sir Walter is ready for them, however. The goblins hardly clear the corner before the brave knight is on the move.

[darklink_shadow]

Despite the harsh crude words Sir Walter assumed she was saying, he could not begrudge her. However, if she could not forgive him a simple mistake, he could tolerate her action either. Leaving her boyfriend for another with greater wealth is not lady-like, not is screaming excessively. "Lady, be quiet. You will find my patience is not infinite.

Sir Walter retains his stance, ready to smack the frst goblin who approaches, and has refused to drop their weapon.

[roll0]
Any hits will automatically knock out.

[stack]

"I never said they could not be redeemed. However such attempts, as you can see, may have to wait until their king has been met. He rules by strength and fear, the recent example enforcing his position. We will find little aid until that threat does not drive them. I also fear you overestimate our fallen ally, though we will not find out."

"No, I am not blessed with the power to calls souls back."
no action until initiative comes up

[boldfont]

Round 2

Toox's two friends run away. They clearly did not think this through. What did they think a coup would look like?

Toox grabs his heart throb by the wrist and attempts to drag her outside. Come on mah sweets snail. Comes to pappa! She continues to scream maddeningly and tries to pull away and return to her fallen sugar daddy lying unconscious on the floor.


Grab [roll0] vs AC 10
Grapple [roll1] vs [roll2]


Toox manages to drag her only a couple of steps before she pulls her arm free.

The cavern is wide and tall, and the goblins are small and slow. If they didn't have spears and rocks, Sir Walter would feel like he was brawling with toddlers. They hesitate when Sir Walter readies his sword, but then a handful of brave (or "stupid" if you prefer) goblins lead a charge at a full on run. ShmACK!!! Sir Gallant clobbers the first one right on the nose. If its magic properties were not in place, his sword would have split the creature in half. one hit
oooo

one hit

one hit
Oooo
One hit!
They whisper and cower in awe.

Git HYM! One of them calls and the attack is back on. The closer goblins with spears keep their distance, hoping for an opening. Some of the others hang back behind the ranks hucking stones and Sir Walter and Jon.


Will vs Jon's Sanctuary
[roll3]
[roll4]

Stones thrown at Sir Walter
[roll5] and [roll6]
[roll7] and [roll8]
[roll9] and [roll10]
[roll11] and [roll12]


Clang!
KLINK

BONG!
The rocks bounce off of Sir Walter's armour harmlessly. Two of the goblins can't even bring themselves to throw stones at Jon. They look confused. This is looking like it could be real easy. That's when a small stone finds its way to his cheek. It smarts!
5 dmg Sir
And more goblins begin wandering in the spectator's seating area for the arena.

Map
http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-c-bf-fight-2.jpg

[darklink_shadow]

Focus. Calmly dance with death.

Sir Walter shifts his weight, moving five feet south east, and swinging his sword angrily at the goblin standing alone. With all his enemies now west and south of him, he turns to face them.

"You all have fifteen seconds to drop your sticks and stones before I start to seriously hurt you."

attack roll [roll0]
Fighting defensively. -4 to hit +2 Ac

[stack]

"If you wish to simply go around them, say the word. However, I do not know that we will be able to find their king without a guide." He can cast sanctuary on Sir Walter, then we could walk around them. Otherwise, your damage is too low to even spend a cure minor on (cure minor being good for 8 HP)

He calls to the assembled goblins, "Do not stand in our way. Show us to you king at let him prove the rightness of his rule."diplomacy [roll0]

[boldfont]

His eyes narrow. The grip on his sword hilt tightens. The dance with death (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CDqd3ZywJ0) begins.


http://www.eexploria.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Reflection__pencil_drawing_eye-222x150.jpg


Toox Grab [roll0]
Grapple [roll1] vs [roll2]

Goblin Spears
[roll3] [roll4] [roll5] [roll6]

Goblin Tackle
AoO [roll7] Didn't get that far. LOL. Weak jump.
Jump [roll8]
[roll9] Grapple [roll10] vs [roll11]

Goblin Rocks
[roll12] (-4 for in melee. Consequences for Nat 1)
[roll13]
Natural 20. Ruling a hit despite AC 22. 1d3+2 on you, but you have some AC karma built up. ;P


Toox makes another grab for the whimpering screaming goblin girl. Her constant wailing is enough to make Sir Walter want to hit something, which at the moment is a bad thing. WWWwaaaaaAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhh! Mah SNOOKIMS! He HITZ MAH SNOOKIMS!!!
Toox yanks on her arm once or twice before she turns around and shoves him on the floor. She then makes a run for her unconscious goblin sugar daddy.

One rather daring goblin climbs to the top of the bleachers and makes a running dive for Sir Walter, but trips on his own feet in the process. He falls face first to the floor and lies dazed and prone. These fools are insane!

They advance on Sir Walter cautiously, thrusting their spears from multiple angles. His attention and focus is on defending himself, which is fortunate. He bats away each poke and prod with his sword. Thrust. Parry. Thrust! Thrust! Parry. They lack real combat experience. He can do this! He just has to focus...

DoNg!!! Another rock smacks him upside the head. His helmet saves him from a world of pain. Had he not been wearing protection the stone would have drawn blood and perhaps been a critical wound. Focus!

Map
http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-c-bf-fight-3.jpg

[darklink_shadow]

Attack rolls then combat description based on rolls

[roll0]
[roll1]


Sir Walter swung with a mighty effort, smacking one goblin hard enough to knock him flat onto the ground. Advancing forward, Sir Walter roared with primal vigor, letting his blade fuse with his movements and strike down anything that was in his path. His second strike hit air and he snarled at the goblin who stood before him now.

Attack and defeat goblin right in front of me. Miss the second attack. Five foot step to the P labeled gobo

[stack]

"There are many of them and fighting each individually does us little good. Allow me to quiet them down." Jon raises his hands, calling clearly, "Peace, stay your hands." A low hum fills the air.

calm emotions (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/calmEmotions.htm)will DC 23, concentrating up to 5 rounds, 20' radius.

Should let us walk past.

[boldfont]

The goblins' bodies relax and several murmur in agreement with Jon's suggestion.
Okeee Imma so sorry.

is all good man


whoh! I waz totes gonna fight, buh now... Naah!

The calming effect of Jon's magic is such an unnatural shift in their disposition that it is actually borderline creepy. But it works! They are no longer on the attack. Best of all the ear splitting shrieking of the girl has stopped. Instead, she just sits calmly with her boyfriend's head on her lap, stroking his hair.

Toox also seems to have calmed significantly. Iz okay. You keeps her big guy. Imma finds luv wit some gobs that luvs me. He has a distinct "alls well that ends well" smile on his face, which leads Jon and Sir Walter to wonder if his infatuation was more love or anxiety. He apologizes. Me sorry bauss. Com wit me. Runz waz mah frind. I shood help you an than worries bout mah probs. Come Come... He waves them on, encouraging them to continue to journey to the king with him.

[stack]

Jon's eyes stay half-closed as he keeps focused on the calming waves radiating from him. "Shall we proceed?"

[darklink_shadow]

Fully prepared to leave the place looking like the end of an all goblin drinking binge, Sir Walter is surprised when suddenly the will to fight leaves everyone in the room. "I... yes, let's make haste. The King is our only Target here. Let us advance on him. Toox, do you guys have a prison here?

[boldfont]

No, no, nos. Bad Gobs that King no want kilt gets to fights in arena. THEN gets kilt! he explains with a satisfied smile. Apparently this makes perfect sense to him, though Sir Walter fails to see the logic.


More coming, but this is crunch time for exams so I may not do much (or anything) until Wednesday. Sorry. Hope you're having fun.

[stack]

Jon's eyes are still half-closed, the strain on his face worsening. "As quickly as possible, I must ask. My ability to concentrate on this enchantment is sharply limited, I fear."

[boldfont]

To the Throne Room!!!

They made good time, but it was a large cave system.

First their guide took them around the arena (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-c-pc1.jpg). On their right, he informed them, was where the puny goblins liked to sleep. They had triple bunk beds, he explained, which is why there were so many nearby when the gobliness screamed her pretty head of. They came to many branches in the cave system. Toox was very insistent that they take a specific route, though Sir Joanson could see they led to the same place.

Then Toox led them over a long, and frankly unstable, rope bridge (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-b-pc.jpg). Again, he assured them that many many gobs had safely walked over this bridge time and time again, and only a few dozen were ever known to have fallen to their deaths. As they crossed, a draft blew fiercely. Below there was only inky blackness. Jon's calming magic was still radiating out of his bright and joyous heart, inflecting all that were nearby. Archers flanking the rope bridge smiled in a dopey manner and waved as they passed.

Their direction continued straight and true. The crossed over a wooden catwalk suspended over a pool of crystal blue, but not clear, water. It was a beautiful sight in a dreary setting. Toox pointed out the little splashes of fish tails as they went over. It was full of tiny Goblin eating fish, he said.

They walked down a set of wide uneven stone steps. Here the air was fouler than before. Toox said this was as far as he was willing to take them. (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-a-pc.jpg) They were at a crossroad. To the right, Toox told them, was the King's "playroom". To the left was his bedroom. If he were asleep, then he would be in there. Straight ahead was the throne room, where the Goblin King made pronouncements and head choppin's. "Goblin King" tisn't evn his reals names! Said Toox is a fearful and reverent whisper Is Bobby. Killum for mes.

It wouldn't be easy. Justice never was. The double door to the throne room was a thick reinforced wooden door. It must be barred from the other side, for it had no handles to speak of and it would not give way to a push.

The door to the bedroom was more traditional. It was a light wooden door with an ordinary, but rusty, simple padlock on the outside.

There was no door to the playroom. From that direction Sir Joanson and Jon could hear the croaky giggling of goblin women.

Mays I goes? Toox implored Sir Joanson. Jon's spell had just broken, and now Toox's emotions were decidedly not calm. He was scared.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter patted the little goblin on the head. "You've risked plenty, Tootz. If you want to leave, you pay, but you will be missing out on the finale."

Flexing, and doing a few quick stretches, Sir Walter nods to his companion. "Ready, Jon? We just need to decide where to look for this oppressor first."

[stack]

"Each seems as likely as the other. We know little of his routine. I would presume he would have had word of our coming, or at least suspect it, so I would not think him to be asleep. Throne room seems most likely." He rests a hand on the young knights shoulder. "Goodness and righteousness shall protect us. They will not strike until we have spoken."

sanctuary on both, himself second since it seems likely Sir Joanson will have to break its protection before too long.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nods, then takes a deep breath and attempts to force the throne room's door open.

Take 10 on concentration check: 22
Power surge: +8 str, 1 round
[roll0] strength check to open the door.

[boldfont]

With his granted leave, Toox scampers off as fast as his little legs can carry him.

Sir Walter thrusts himself as a battering ram against the door. His armour adds weight and hence momentum as well as basic protection.
One. BOOM
Two. BOOM
And on three, when Sir Walter was prepared to really give it his all, the door opens. Sir Walter nearly charged in headlong before he stops himself, realizing the door has been opened for him.

http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/goblin-king-lair-a-pc1.jpg

The door is flanked by two armoured guards who stand at attention with what could be called professionalism. There are two lit torches on either wall providing light, and there must be two more ahead of that. Sir Walter can see the shadows of two more guards dancing on the floor with the torch fire flickering. The chamber opens up widely. Uneven steps lead down into the throne room and into darkness, but way in the distance Sir Walter can see a figure sitting on a throne of stone. He is perhaps a hundred feet away and bathed in the faintest torch light. Between here and there is darkness. The guard behind him gives Sir Walter a slight nod to indicate he is to step forth and address "his majesty". At this moment, Jon is still on the outside looking in.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter regains his composure, and walks forward slowly. "I am Sir Walter, Knight in service to Justice itself, and the Fairy Queen. I have defeated your messenger, and refused your terms. You insult my Queen and Country, and you have murdered my friend in cold blood, sending his head in the futile attempt to intimidate me."

Dragging the goblin messenger with one hand, he tosses the lump forward. "With a single strike, I subdued your messenger, but I have no slain him. It is within my power to easily kill him, but unlike you, I don't murder messengers of news I don't like. Unlike you, I seek out the one responsible and deal with the offender appropriately. Unlike you, I am just. And unlike you, I am strong. Only a weak king needs to rule through such intimidation. Your people do not love you, and will not long mourn your passing. Your soul will look on as your end is met with celebration and bickering over the spoils of your death. Your reign of cruelty ends here. I will give you one chance to live. Resign as king, leave these people, and journey to the Queen's Court and apologize for your words and actions. What she deems must be done with you then is up to here. But if you refuse that respite, I will be forced to judge your punishment, and my judgment is trial by combat against Sir Walter. I will accept no proxies, and no alternatives. I present two options. Choose wisely."

After finishing his speech, he waited for a half second and drew his sword so the blade's raspy escape from it's sheath would echo. "If you send a man against me now, I will kill them. If any man you send against me refuses to fight, I will let them leave. They need not worry about suffering the your wrath. You will be powerless by the end of this conflict, one way or the other, Bobby, the ex-King of the Goblins."

[stack]

Jon steps in between the two goblins to ensure he does not get shut out, then listens to the ultimatum. A fair chance. I pray the king may see reason. Now he must decide his own fate.

[Artman77]

"Ha ha ha haaaaaaa..." comes a mocking laugh from the other side of the throne room.
You can barely make out King Arguk's form as he leans forward on the throne in the darkness. The light from the torches sparkles in his black, beady little eyes.
"Let's examine the facts shall we?" he calls out in a strong, calm tone. His voice is quite raspy, even by goblin standards, and his words echo off the unseen cavern walls.
"You are a foreigner, trespassing on goblin land, and refuse to pay the reasonable toll, or traveling tax, of one hundred gold for safe passage." his opening statement comes as somewhat of a shock. The rudimentary note belied the nature of Arguk's command of the common tongue.
"Which is an extremely low price, when you think of it. Hundreds of angry, violent, hungry goblins who want to eat your face, and I command them not to? And they listen? And His Majesty charges less than one gold per goblin?? Next, we have the refusal to follow local customs, and not wear the bag of shame, which is merely for our safety. Then we have you sowing distension and treason among my most loyal subjects. You trespass, spit on our customs, refuse my terms, and threaten my life!
And what do you offer me?"

"I can give up my crown, which I have worked tirelessly to earn and keep. I can then leave my brethren to kill each other, as they are wont to do, while I travel the "civilized" world, getting leered at, jeered at, spit at, attacked, chased, cursed, probably attacked and killed, to apologize to some Queen that has no people, land or authority here, and beg for forgiveness for just doing my job? A miserable, deplorable job that no one in their right mind would want to do??
--Or I can join with someone twice my size in single combat and most surely die?"
Arguk scoffs with indignation.
"Listen to me, oh righteous one. Whether or not this is the "Queen's Land" debatable. More of us have been on more of this land for a longer period of time than any of them, so it could be ours by right. If it is, you are in the wrong. If it is not, then then your precious queen is still in the wrong for letting that foul beast attack us, "her subjects", and lay waste to this land! You should have been sent here long ago!"
He stands, and firelight reveals his garish, scarred face, and one dead eye.
"I've seen first hand what that monster can do, and it would turn the stomach of men like you."

"To put it simply, there are more of us than you, and you need our cooperation more than you need that purse of gold. Diplomacy could never have been bought so cheaply..."

Link to what I imagine Arguk looking like, if you're interested...
http://gorillaartfare.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/goblin-king.jpg

[boldfont]

Jon hears the door close behind him. He catches a glimpse of one of the guards barring the door with a steel rod and the other extinguishes the torches. Quickly the light dies.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The torches are snuffed until the only remaining light is the small brazier glowing faintly in front of the goblin king. The slightest scintilla of the undercarriage of his jowls and bulbous nose is illuminated. Sir Walter can almost hear the little devil's grin, as if such facial expressions have a sound. His is palpable. In the darkness, all one has are soft mysterious noises, which in turn leads to imagination, which can lead to fear.

The king sips from his wine once, and then extinguishes the last remaining light by pouring the contents of his goblet over those lonely burning coals.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter sighed and flexed. "You can pretend to be on moral ground now if you wish. It's a cowardly thing to do now. You feign honor and good intent, but you threatened me, my companion and insulted my Queen. Then you murdered a goblin simply for relaying the message that I did not want to walk blindly into your lair. I am a Knight of these lands, and I have come to defeat the same beasts you claim the Queen is in the wrong for not defeating. I did not ignore any customs that I was allowed to be aware of. I asked for an alternative and saw my query result in death. No just king murders a messenger then insults an ally. You knew what you were doing when you provoked me. Maybe you thought I would crumble under threats, maybe you think I will crumble under your pretense of righteousness. I will not. Your logic is twisted. The Queen sends a warrior to dispatch the threats you complain of and you waylay him, threatening him and mocking the very one who sent him to serve justice. If your intent was as you claim, explain the reasoning behind your actions. Why would you slay a goblin who was reasonable enough to attempt to play host to a man sent to save the lands you occupy from the dangers that lurk menacingly in the north. Why would you then insult the man and the mission you now claim you desire to have? I believe you are hiding behind such words, just as you hide now, in the dark. If you are as noble as your title, or as honest as you claim, explain yourself. I can admit there may be more than I have perceived, but when all I have seen is death and slights, even the simplest of your subjects would understand my reaction. But if what you say is true, I cannot comprehend the motives of your most recent actions. If what you say is false, I retain my previous stance on the matter. Surrender or die."

After finishing his monologue, Sir Walter changes his stance, relying on the sense the king could not so easily deny him: scent.

Hunter's stance: scent

I sure hope my guide had the foresight to bring his own torches. I doubt I will have time to light one.

[stack]

vow of poverty. Torches have value.

Besides, who needs them?

Jon watches the light fade. Even though it does not hinder him, it is time for something...dramatic. He lays a hand on the knights shoulder. Golden rays burst forth, bringing a circle of high-noon to the center of the cavern. "Darkness will not avail you. We bring the light."

daylight (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/daylight.htm)SLA, CL 5

seemed cinematic. We could have gotten by with the light cantrips, darkvision (Jon) and scent, but this is more cooler. Never thought casting daylight would be so striking, usually figure its boring utility.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter grins widely. "Thank you, Jon. Seeing your opponent is much more civilized, and honorable."

[Artman77]

The other goblins hiss with anger and throw up their hands to shield their eyes as bright light floods the majority of the cavern. The spell did not quite reach the throne, however. The king and whatever may or may not be behind him are still cloaked in deep darkness.

"Moral high ground?" Arguk asks, as if you surprised him, "I always heard it said goblins were amoral. I never claimed to be good, or do good, or want good. I merely stated facts. You are the one claiming I 'murdered' one of my own subjects. I did not. I did execute him for disobeying a direct order to put a bag on your head."
The king sighs.
"You denied a kings demands, which is normally punishable by death, and here you stand, very much alive. Yet you, who are not a king, make demands of your own, both of which end with me dead! Who has twisted logic now? 'Moral high ground'! Huh!" The king scoffs again.
"Your lack of perspective is typical of a prideful, self-righteous, know-it-all elf."
The goblin "royal guard" as they might be called, appear to be growing impatient. They look to each other excitedly, and grip their weapons tightly, as if they cannot wait for the command to attack. One licks his lips.
You hear Arguck's armor rattle and he growls in the guttural tongue of goblin-kind.
He continues in a more calm manner.
"Back to my original point which you so stubbornly refuse to acknowledge: There are many more of us than there are of you, which presents multiple problems.
First, we can most likely kill you if we were so inclined.
Second, you cannot kill us all; it would take too long and you have a mission to complete.
Third, by dethroning me, you are also starting a chain-reaction of chaos, in-warring, throne claiming, and assassinations that has not been seen since before I ruled. You think beheading Runz was evil? I gave him a quick, clean death. It is nothing compared to rusty spears of an angry goblin mob that bring agony and suffering. This is the legacy you wish to leave behind? I have no misgivings about my lowly moral position. It is you who is the pretender. You are right down here in the gutter with me."

[Artman77]

"You offer me death by your sword or death on the road to your Queen's castle. I have a counter offer: We both live or we both die.
Kill me and you and your squire are both dead. You have not seen the whole cave, nor all dangers in it, or are you really one of those pompous know-it-all elves?
Let me live, maintain relative peace, admit that you could in fact be wrong, and I will let you leave, and promise you I will not order an attack on you or your squire. If you complete your quest and travel still unharmed by us, you can choose to return and pay the hundred gold at your leisure. What do you say?"

[darklink_shadow]

With a small tsk, Sir Walter shook his head. "I'm not as blatantly racist as you imagine. I do not believe your kind are evil. I don't think any race is inherently evil. Even demons themselves have moments of goodness. The Exalted Deeds that I have studied tell about a man who converted devils to a path of righteousness. Regardless, I still have my doubts about you. The goblin you 'executed' was simply relaying a message, an attempt to compromise between cultures. Just as you are attempted to do now. Just as we both are. The only difference between what we are doing now and what I was attempted to do before, is now someone is dead for being a middle man."

After eyeing the goblins behind him he turned back to the 'king.' "When I denied your demands, it was during a time in which I could not respect your rule. I still see your actions as simple murder. I cannot condone your action and I do not understand your cause for action. If a ruler of my people acted such, we would rebel and overthrow him. So I have, from my foreign perspective, been unable to see you as a ruler. This exchange complicates things. You clearly are not the thug I had perceived you to be. Nevertheless, I cannot forgive slights against my Queen. As I am acting on her behalf, under her authority, I have the right to demand things in her name, as I have. I am no king, but in the field, I command enough authority to make impromptu decision on behalf of the crown."

A brief pause, and then: "As for your problem... your men do not scare me. I've trained under brutal conditions to become a torrent of violence and death when I need to be. I spent years practicing after that just to learn how to NOT kill things in combat. But your other points hold merit. And I have one of my own. I do not have time to waste here, that is true, even now the forces of evil harm the innocent. If you are not the evil king I had supposed, I do not have time to spend dethroning you. If dethroning you leads to a world of violence, such as you describe, which I am starting to think it may, doing so would be evil itself, and I would not wish to do it any longer. My final reason to not dethrone you is that I have no desire to kill the goblins under your rule, nor cause them harm."

"But I cannot forgive you entirely. I will admit, freely, that I do not know everything. I am not a scholar, I am a knight. I do my best to do what I perceive would be just, nothing more. It is very possible I was mistaken, and so far, you have done well to convince me I was. So I propose this course of action: apologize for insulting my Queen. With that, I will have no more quarrel with you. I also propose a slight shift in payment. Rather than give you gold, instead, why don't I return with building supplies and tools for your people. I have seen only a small portion of your cave, but I can tell your people are industrious, but lacking resources to build. With materials I would have thought useless, I have seen bridges able to support my own weight, even while clad in my armor, and accompanied by many of your people and my companion. I think the materials would be more useful to you than just gold. And... as a personal note, I would like to know what happened to the body of the goblin you executed."

[stack]

Jon stand silent watching the exchange with interest. He is reasonable and merciful, strong but willing to reach compromise without forgetting his oaths and principles. I wish they had all been like this.

[Artman77]

Arguk the King rises from his throne, and steps into the light. He is taller than you expected.
"I find your terms agreeable, and hope that it is not a ruse to help you escape and bring an army of destruction to our doorstep. Although if you are going to fight the beast I doubt I will have to worry much, you probably won't survive. I, as king, apologize for any insult you think I made to your Queen. You shouldn't delay in your departure. I thought not that you would have this many words, and my men might lose their patience. They smell blood, and are not easily...whats the word...dissuaded?"
He shouts for a while in the goblin tongue, and his words echo throughout the cave.

[boldfont]

All's well that ends well?

Sir Walter Joanson and his guide Jon of the Green are escorted off the premises by the goblin elites. They pass the semi-conscious goblins nursing their headaches from Sir Walter's educational battery as they go. The goblin "king" was a surprise and the whole experience left a bad taste in their mouths. Was this the right course of action? Time would tell he supposed, but for now, the Bull of Castle rock awaited.

The guards were kind enough to give directions as well. The foray into the goblin king's caves had been a slight delay. Sir Walter had hoped to cross the whole o the valley before nightfall, but as fate would have it, the sun began to set as the hero had not more than halfway hiked the north face of the valley. It was a steep incline and arduous going. He could see in the orange glow of sun light just how populated the southern plateaus were. They crawled with hundreds of goblins. Perhaps he was a king after all, if numbers and "unique" cultural heritage were any indication of legitimacy. He need not judge any more on this matter today. The immediate situation begged his attention. Should he press on in darkness? Or have a full night's rest now and try to make up lost time in the morning?

You can forgo the benefits of a full 8 hours rest and complete the hex in a single day, basically. The alternative is to get a full rest now and your day will likely end 3/4 through the B2 hex.

MAP (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/b1-castle-rock-crawl4.jpg)

[stack]

Jon looks over the ground covered and the rising slopes ahead. "I suggest we press on. There is much ground to cover. I would also prefer to be away from this valley in the event that the king goes back on his word. I have expended little of the power I have been granted, so long as we can see the path we ought be able to progress."

[darklink_shadow]

Musing only briefly, the knight nods. "I doubt the king does so. I might not agree with him, but he has his own sense of honor. I've gone without sleep before, and only one night shouldn't really bother me. But we will rest the next night. Staying rested and alert will keep us from falling into traps, or off cliffs. But I do not see well in the dark."[COLOR]

Spending a moment, Sir Walter lights a torch and hands it to Jon. [COLOR="purple"]"My weapon demands both hands. It doesn't seem like you intend to use one for yourself, so it only makes sense that you hold the torches."

[stack]

Jon takes the torch. "Of course. I sometimes forget that not all can see as well in the darkness as I can."

[darklink_shadow]

"Please take point, if you see better in the dark, that way you can point out any potential dangers I might miss. I'll follow just behind, looking for dangers that might move to us, rather than the ones we might move upon."

[stack]

"Certainly." Jon leads the way into the night.

keep going on until we get a new map, I guess.

[boldfont]

Journey to Castle Rock (B2)

The night air is crisp and refreshing. It invigorates Jon and Sir Walter much, but as the night draws on they begin to feel the effects of an uphill forced march.


Both are Fatigued and make two CON checks DC 10 & 14 or take 1d6 non lethal. This is the gentle version of the rarely enforced "forced march" rules in PHB pg 164. Instead of having a check every hour we will check every 8 hours. Instead of increasing the DC by +2, it will increase by +4. Fatigue is automatic. 16 hour from now they will be exhausted and subsequent checks will be on the hour. Here's a chart to assist.

Time|Con DC|Effect
0-16 hours|none|none
16 hours|10|Fatigue & 1d6
24 hours|14|1d6
32 hours|18|1d6
40 hours|22|Exhausted & 1d6
41 hours|12|1d6
42 hours|14|1d6
43 hours|16|1d6
...+1 hour|...+2|...1d6

Right now you have been marching for 24 hours.


When the light breaks Sir Walter and Jon are where they would have expected to be if they were never side tracked. They have stopped shortly for breakfast when the sun breaches the horizon. It is a beautiful sight, until the light reveals the landscape (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/b2-castle-rock-crawl-1.jpg).

Far ahead Sir Walter and Jon can see the countryside rotting. The hills turn from green and brown, to brown, grey, and black. There is a haze in the air which they can somewhat discern from where they are. It smells of burnt resin and ash. It is a faint, but sour note which puts off the taste of Sir Walter's humble breakfast. Jon, for his part, does not need to eat.

Ahead they can see a dark river raging, and a mysterious plume of smoke in the distance. They are surprised to see what appears to be an inhabited farm to the north east. What can they grow here? It is an abysmal scene and will only get worse. Yet, their ultimate path (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/region-map-castle-rock.jpg) is clear. To the mountains and the Bull of Castle Rock!

[darklink_shadow]

Despite the sour taste, Sir Walter knows he must eat. Eating faster means you spend less time tasting your food, so he wolfs it down as fast as he can. After the food, Sir Walter does a few stretches. "That farm houses bravery, foolishness, or death, I think. I want to investigate, but we have just made up for lost time. But they may need us. I suppose I have no choice. If there is noth9ng there, we have lost little time. If there are friends there, we may gain knowledge of the area that aids us greatly. If there are enemies, then we will loss time. No matter... What do you think Jon? I do not want to pass by people who may need us, or may be able to help us."

[stack]

Jon stands watch, breathing the air and feeling the sun. Even the poison of this place has no effect on him. "There is a chance, as you said, that there me me people in need. I would wish us to do no other. Let us proceed, though be ready and wary."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nods, and heads in the direction of the farm. His sword is sheathed, but he checks it once to be sure it is ready to be drawn by sliding it out a short distance, then letting it fall back into place.

[boldfont]

Damsel

Not but a short three hours north east they spot a beautiful nude woman shivering and huddled behind a boulder. Her hair is green and her skin is an earthy tan like brandished wood. Her facial features are elven in nature. But she has a faded appearance, like she may be ill. She turns to acknowledge their presence. A weak smile crosses her face and she opens her mouth to speak before collapsing. She lacks the strength to stand, so she makes a tremendous effort to crawl towards Sir Walter and Jon. They cannot imagine the courage and inner strength it must take to do this in her condition. Every fiber of their being tells our heroes that this woman is good and pure at heart, and it breaks their hearts to see her beset by some foul force of evil in this manner.

http://i1094.photobucket.com/albums/i453/what70/leavesfinal.jpg

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter immediately removes his cloak and wraps it around the woman. Dignity and honor are more important than life, and if she is not nude by choice, Sir Walter must secure her dignity before securing her life.

"Ah, Jon, I had a feeling someone was over here. Can you see what ails her? I am not suited to combat medical conditions."

I assume I have extra clothes, but it's not in my inventory. If I have clothes, I will lay them out for her to use, if not, I guess I will let her keep my cloak unless she is the kind of creature that doesn't want clothes, 0r if she isn't what she appears to be... like if she is secretly a demon who is tricking me.

[boldfont]

From this close he can see the dryness of her lips and the foliate nature of her skin. The woman is a dryad! And she is dying.

Unfortunately, neither Sir Walter nor Jon know much about dryads, and she lacks the strength to speak more than a few incoherent mumbles. Whatever ails her, they know enough to recognize that it is more than an ordinary mortal affliction. From what the goodly knight remembers, dryads prefer nudity and can be very promiscuous. They are are quite common in the Fey realms, of course, but Sir Walter does not... er... spend much time in their... company.

[stack]

know nature [roll0] to see if he knows about tree-dependancy
heal [roll1]

detect poison

Jon studies her carefully in a detached manner, looking for any sign of injury or poison. "Nature itself groans under the yolk of the Gorgon. It is no wonder one such as her would suffer with it. I will do what I can."

[darklink_shadow]

"What ails her? I don't know things like this." Sir Walter gets some water and attempts to pour water into her mouth.

[boldfont]

In spite of his great efforts, Jon is unable to aid the dryad. He reasons that there must be something spiritual or magical that afflicts her. She drinks some of the water and the suffers a fit of coughing. It looks as if she may drown, so Jon turns her over to her side and allows the fluid to drain. She vomits out the water and then something else. A thick green sludge. It is unnatural to Jon's knowledge. Like no illness he has ever seen.

With her final ounce of strength she flops her arm in the direction they were already traveling. She has fainted.

[stack]

Jon lifts her up. "I believe she was indicating we should continue in this direction. I will carry her, you may need your sword arm free. She is very sick, but where there is life there is hope. I would urge us not to tarry in finding the source of her affliction."

does she weigh more than 115 lbs? Cause that's his max load. I hate dumping strength. Not that 11 is dumped for a non-combat healer.

[boldfont]

Jon scoops the fading damsel in his arms and slowly marches behind Sir Walter. He has to stop several times to allow his companion to catch up. Sweat forms on his brow, and Jon's arms and legs ache, but like the faithful friend that he is, he endures.

On the way to the farmhouse they pass a massive oak tree. It has seen better days. Half of the tree has rotted away, and it seeps a familiar green ooze from cracks in the bark. A wide crevice in the trunk is positively flowing with snot-like goo. Our heroes approach with caution to investigate. From twenty feet away they can see something like orange eyes blinking at them from beneath the slick slime. They are like yolks in a rotten egg. The stink from the infestation is unpleasant.

Jon remembers something about dryads and trees...

[stack]

Jon looks carefully at the goo from a safe distance. "That...does not appear natural. I suspect there may be some link between what is in that tree and the maiden. Perhaps she was injured trying to heal the tree?" He places the dryad carefully on the ground and goes closer to get a better look.

not sure which knowledge to roll. Most of his aren't great.

[darklink_shadow]

Tree? Sir Walter had spent the majority of his life learning moral codes, diplomacy and warcraft. And yet... "I think you are right. Don't dryads need trees or something? I only see one. We had best investigate. Maybe the sickness has spread to the tree, or maybe some fiend has damaged it. Either way, we should go to the tree. "

With a click and a long rasp, Sir Walter drew his sword. The likelihood of enemies was just enough to warrant having his blade at the ready. "If you can, carry her. If not we will come back for her. If you can't carry her, we will leave some of my food and my water here for her. Dry bread and berries seem like the things a dryad would eat. Maybe. Let's just hurry."

[boldfont]

Tainted Tree

Jon places the dryad a short distance away before approaching the oak to get a good look. Those floating orange eye blink back at him from under a slathering of putrid green sludge. Curious...

Sir Walter Joanson is not far behind with his sword drawn. Just when Jon is an close as he dare to be, the oozing wound in the tree purges bile upon him.

SPLOOSH!

Fort save DC 18 of 2d6 dmg and sickened for 1 round. Regardless, Jon is now covered in a thick green slime. He can take a full round action to scrape off the goo, or any other method you can think of to become goo free. No initiative is necessary at this time.

Jon has never felt so revolted in his life. He is covered from head to toe in a mucus. It's in his hair and his ears and his clothes are wet with it. One of those orange eyes sits on his head like the world's worst hat. This is far worse than falling in mud. It feeling more like the heavens above hocked a giant loogie on him. And something else too... he can feel an unnatural jealousy towards his friend working on him. It is a nagging tug at his emotions. For now he can resist it, but it drains him. It saps him of his vitality and sickens his stomach.

The venture up to the tree was not entirely fruitless. This slime is a creature itself, not a manifestation of the tree. Jon has seen how it has hollowed out a nest in the great oak and eaten it from the inside out.

MAP
http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/slime-tree-00.jpg

[stack]

spellcraft to identify the effect? [roll0]
fort [roll1]

Jon immediately starts scraping off the slime, tossing the eye to the ground in front of Sir Walter. "It seems unfriendly. It effects ones thought, breading resentment. Be careful, do not let it touch you if possible. Removing it from the tree...maybe it will help her." Another foolish knight, waving his sword about, seeking glory and honor. What has I ever gotten form all this?

No, these are not my thoughts. Resist.

He tries to steady himself, but the world starts spinning as he fights the urge to wretch. He collects himself and continues wiping the goo onto the ground.full round to scrape it off

[boldfont]

Jon's knowledge of the planes tells him that the creature is both elemental and demonic in nature. It is one of the physical manifestations of the Bull's corruption. As they venture further towards the Bull's lair and the land becomes more blighted by the Bull's evil they can expect to see many more creatures like this one.

Jon does not know how to remove the slime from the tree without harming the tree. He suspects fire or cold would drive it out, or perhaps some other elemental force.

[darklink_shadow]

"What is that?" Sir Walter asks, taken aback by the slime. "Evil. I can tell that much. How do we destroy it?" Sir Walter gives the ooze a deft smack.

[boldfont]

As Sir Walter approaches all eyes (literally) turn to his sword. The ooze retreats deeper into the tree, leaving behind a trail of goo. He can see it retracted deep into the trunk. He would be able to jab at it if he stuck his arm in perhaps, but he doesn't relish the thought of reaching into that moist dripping hole.

[stack]

"Fire. Or cold. Either ought drive the creature from its nest. Try lighting the torches."curse limited spell lists! But that was the whole point. If Jon could solve every problem with a spell, it would be his story.:smallwink:

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter shakes his head. "No, that might ignite the tree. If we need heat or cold, then he need cold. That is within the realm of magic, which would be your domain, not mine."

[stack]

"No such power is granted to me. I can repair wounds and ward against blows, but I do not command the elements. Take a care with the flame and there is little enough risk. A hard old oak will not ignite quickly. We need only drive the thing from the tree, I suspect."

[darklink_shadow]

Frowning, Sir Walter produced and lit a torch. "I'm not sure how you mean to do it. So why don't you chase it out and I'll make sure to protect you, if it attacks."

Ready action: Splat the ooze if it gets in a position for me to whack it.

[stack]

"Hand me a lit torch. I can hold it close and see if the creature recoils form it." He approaches carefully, placing the flame between himself and the goo. Once next to the tree, he hold the torch as close as he dare without scorching the afflicted wood.

[boldfont]

Jon holds the torch at the very base because in order the stick the torch in the cavity of the tree he needs to point it downward. The flame run up the shaft of the torch, and just when the heat to his hand is becoming unbearable the creature stirs.


Initiative

Bad Guy [roll0]

Sir Walter Joanson [roll1]
Jon of the Green [roll2]


He is unable to step out of the way before the slime moves through him and towards Sir Walter in a windy gooey zig zag which leaves a long trail of slime and orphaned orange eyeballs.

[boldfont]

Jon can feel the slime seeping deeper into the fabric of his clothes. He can also feel the same wicked thoughts of bitter jealousy and resentment seeping into his mind.


Roll off for initiative. Darklink, you need to add +4 to Misc for your Imp Init feat. I almost missed that.
Bad Guy [roll0]
Sir Walter Joanson [roll1]

Jon
[roll2] Fort DC 18 or [roll3] save means half damage. Save failed and slimed

If Sir Walter Attacked
[roll4] if hit [roll5] and "Slimed" Miss
[roll6] if hit [roll7] and "Slimed" Miss
Rolls considered spoiled if Sir Walter wins initiative.


The creature flows like mud through Jon, who actually is a sickly green colour now. The green sludge pours itself at him swiftly. He is prepared and strikes it with his sword. He is barely able to dodge two wave like assaults that come at him afterward. He receives some splatter, but it is easily wiped off his armour.

Map (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/slime-tree-1.jpg)

[darklink_shadow]

If my prepared attack can go off:
[roll0] : [roll1]

Sir Walter does not understand the enemy before it, but he can understand that it fears both fire and steel: one of which Sir Walter can happy give to it.

Sir Walter takes a step closer to the tree and swings angrily at slime. His first swing arcs angrily at the slime as it emerges, but the odd feeling of hitting throwns Sir Walter off balance, but he swings his sword again, regaining his footing only to finally bring the blade to a resting point on the slime once more.

Two harsh whacks, but the nasty thing doesn't seem dead. Sir Walter regains his stance and prepared to unleash hell.

[roll2] : [roll3]
[roll4] : [roll5]

Oops. +4 added

[stack]

Jon moves closer to Sir Walter as he scrapes the goo off yet again, fearing that it may have an ongoing effect.

5ft closer to the knight and full-round to scrape it off

[boldfont]

He feels like he's splashing a stick in water. He's not even sure if he's doing anything. He must be though... With each swing dozens of the little orange eyes are flung from the slimy mass and lay splattered on the grass like fallen eggs. It is with great disgust and discomfort that Sir Walter is christened into the slime covered gentleman's club when the blob passes through him.


Fort save DC 18
Sir Walter Joanson [roll0] Success
[roll1] and sickened; save means 1/2 dmg and not sickened

[roll2] if hit [roll3] and slimed Hit
[roll4] if hit [roll5] and slimed Miss


Sir Walter feels a single blow to the back of his head before turning around. He feels disgusting!

And rather annoyed with Jon for some reason.

MAP (http://talesofsirjoanson.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/slime-tree-2.jpg)

[stack]

A light shimmers over Jon as the fatigue from the fight fades away.cure minor wounds to fix 7 HP nonlethal

[darklink_shadow]

"Vile thing.." Sir Walter mutters below his breath, refocusing his anger towards his opponent. Deep breathe. Concentrate on the enemy. Swing hard.

Swoosh.

take 10 for conc: +8 star until next round.

Bone crushing strike: [roll0] [roll1]

[boldfont]

What do you mean by this "take 10 for conc: +8 star until next round."
Same map.


Sir Walter makes a powerful cut through the jelly. It splashes everywhere, and it is apparent that it is now stretching itself thin.

Suddenly gooey tendrils rise from the residue surrounding and on Sir Walter. They attempt to anchor him to the ground pull him into the dirt.


Grapple [roll0] vs Sir W [roll1]
if succeed then [roll2] crushing dmg.


The main slime in front of him blinks its many eyes quizzically. It tries to slam itself against him like a big gross hammer.


[roll3] if hit [roll4]
[roll5] if hit [roll6]
If Sir W is grappled then he is FF. No penalty for striking into this unique grapple.

[stack]

Jon notices the battered state of his companion. He reaches out with a hand wreathed in white fire. "Be healed. I am sorry, I had not realized the extent of your wounds."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter grunts in appreciation of being healed, but is also stuck in a grapple. He tries to jerk free, and back away, headed as far east as he can this action.

[roll0]

[boldfont]

Sir Walter Breaks free of the sticky tendrils and flees eastward. As he passes the monster makes a lunge at him.

AoO
[roll0] for [roll1]


SpLosH! His back is whacked and will bruise the next morning. He feels a wet sticky glop trickle down his back.

Jon is now so much closer than Sir Walter, and so the beast focuses its attention on him. It charges the wise counselor...


[roll2] for [roll3] (-2AC for it this turn) if hit then slimed...
I humbly suggest you withdraw as a full round action.


Jon is also hit. He's beginning to tire of cleaning himself only to be sullied again.

In breaking free of the beast's slime, Sir Walter brushed off one of those orange eyes. The eye hops into the mass of the beast before the charge. It occurs the Sir Walter that the beast must only be able to use this ability when the victim is covered in enough slime and one of these eyes is also attached.

The Dryad wakes. She weakly lifts herself to her knees but is given new vigor when she sees the Ooze. She mouths a silent scream and begins crab walking backwards and away from the terror before her.

[stack]

Jon backs away in the same direction Sir Walter went, putting distance between himself and the blob.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter rushed past Jon, invigorating him with a battle shout and the tactics of the White Raven. Sir Walter collided with the slime with all the ferocity of a rampaging Minotaur.

White Raven Tactics: Swift Action - Target Ally moves after you, gaining another round.

Charging with Charging Minotaur

Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Free Bullrush: Str Check - [roll2] Pushing it Westward, away from tree

[stack]

Jon advantage of the respite to relieve his own injuries.

cure mod wounds [roll0]

if Sir Walter gets too hurt, Jon can cast close wounds as an immediate action

[boldfont]

Sir Joanson Walter the brave and mighty rushes his foe in a relentless assault against the infectious ooze. He cuts it down to size, literally. With every slice it visibly diminishes. It is hard to say for sure, but this wicked puss ball looks to be as hurt as he is, with one critical difference. Sir Walter has a healer.


Done on phone. Please adjust rolls if I'm remembering anything wrong.

Opposed str check re: bull rush done with real dice (because I mucked up the forum dice). Bull rush succeeds.

[roll0] for [roll1]
[roll2] for [roll3]

I understand the concern with the AoO. The rules are actually that an AoO is provoked whenever a target moves out of a threatened square. This guy was too hard for you. I wanted to test your actual CR threshold as a two PC team. It's about a 5 or a 6. This creature is a 7/8 and I probably won't go that high again except on special occasions.

But you're beating it legit! One more ought to do it.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter met the creatures first attack with a vicious parry and fell into a slow, heavy swing follow by a quick swipe.

[roll0] New AC versus first attack (Wall of Blades)
[roll1] attack1
[roll2] attack2
[roll3] damage1
[roll4] damage2

[darklink_shadow]

confirm crit
[roll0] attack
[roll1] damage

[boldfont]

With a furry of sword swings Sir Walter splatters the last of the monster over the hillside. There is nothing left to swing at, just a wet and gooey hill. It was a brutal and relatively lengthy battle. It lasted a full minute, perhaps more. While a layman wouldn't consider that long, the seasoned knight knew that in actuality most fights were over in seconds. A full minute of battle against a worthy foe was exhausting. You used every muscle in your body and your mind. You had to expend yourself, or die.

Sweat dripped out of every pore and he was covered from head to toe in slippery discharge. The Dryad was quickly recovering with the blob's demise. She approached Sir Walter now.

You have saved me from a fate worse than death dear knight. The corruption that covers this land stops here today with your act of kindness. How can I ever repay you?

She kneels before him, weeping in gratitude. Already the colour returns to her skin and life to her eyes.
Glop!
A huge drop of slime falls from shoulder. He feels disgusting.

[stack]

Jon plops down on the ground, wearily scraping of the remaining slime. "That was unexpected. Let us recover and catch our breath. Dear Lady, you seem more invigorated already. Is there ought else we can do to help you?"

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter panted briefly, stretched his sword arm, then shook the goo from his blade before turning to the dryad. "You needn't repay me. Any brave Knight worth his salt would have acted exactly as I have. I could use any information you have on this blight, however. And a brief rest. I am Sir Walter Joanson, Knight in service to the Fairy Queen, and this is Jon of the Green, my guide and companion. What is your name, milady?"

Sir Walter stretched out his more exhausted muscles to help them cool down, and then walked over to Jon. "Good?" He asked Jon, not overly worried about him, but wanting to make sure. Jon didn't seem like the kind to fall as prey so easily to ... whatever that was. But Sir Walter also did want to ensure Jon's health

[stack]

Jon waves a hand. "Good. Now let me have a look. You took a beating there. Do not be afraid to request aid, I can not always see how wounded you are, especially when my eyes are full of slime." He gives a small smile.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nods apologetically. "I was focused on the battle. I hardly felt the wounds. I will take care to pay more heed to the damage I take. I'm used to going all out and hoping a healer will come back to patch me up after the fight. I'm not used to the idea of being healed in combat."

[boldfont]

The Dryad introduces herself formally as "Twiggy". She weaves the narrative of her days as a sapling, when the hills were lush with greenery and the farmers respectfully practiced their trade in harmony with nature. The people of Castle Rock would tie ribbons around her trunk during the autumn festivities, the rain would fall in the mornings and the water was pure, and young lovers would enjoy carnal delights away from prying eyes under her boughs. These were the days when Castle Rock was well populated and the Baron of the land was loved by all.

Almost all.

Sir Walter knew what happened next. The protector of this realm, one of the Fairy Queen's blessed favourites, Sir Gerald Westin, became jealous. They called him the Iron Bull, on account of his steely resolve and powerful lance arm. They say he was fearless when he charged into battle. It was with some surprise to everyone then that he was passed over again and again by the Fairy Queen whenever an opportunity to grant lands came up. "I need you here to protect this part of the realm from my enemies" the Queen is alleged to have told Sir Gerald. "The goblins are misbehaving again, and the Razor Boar is on the loose again." The brave Sir Gerald's heart filled with bitterness and envy. He felt cheated out of a reward that he had earned. All of this is familiar. It is the reason Sir Walter is here.

Twiggy is not sure how the Iron Bull came into such power, or why he transformed as he did, but when he changed the land changed too. His conquest of the land was more than physical. It was spiritual. Fissures in the ground began to open and noxious gases spewed out. The flora and fauna were given a kind of spiritual ultimatum. They could either let the corruption take them or be destroyed. No words as such were issued, but every dryad and satyre in the land knew this was the price of Castle Rock. Many accepted the corruption freely. It spread into them like a welcome guest. Many others, like herself, have fought against it for many years now. Still more, were killed by it.

It takes many forms, but it always affects the heart. Envy is sown like a weed and from that follows bitterness. The ingratitude for what one has is then shown in our countenance by bubbles of puss and other vile fluids. If Sir Walter is to journey to Castle Rock he should expect similar poisoned foes, and decay of the body and soul.

I appreciate all you have done for me. I would thank you good knight, with a kiss... Another glob of ooze falls from Sir Walter perhaps later. You will not find water here, and the river to the north is a toxic as the sludge you just defeated. The farmer o'er yonder has a clean well he may allow you to use, but I must warn you that he is a wicked old man. His daughters are terribly mistreated and I fear that the corruption may have taken his mind. His family did not leave when the lands fell onto evil, and for generations they have lived here in isolation. Beware of him Sir Walter, he is quite mad.

[stack]

Jon knows the story all too well, Sir Westin being far from the only one to have fallen in some way. "The farm was where we were bound when we came upon you. I think it should be our destination still. My friends here will be thirsty and we must be certain to carry enough to sustain him through the cursed lands ahead."

sustenance means never having to say 'I'm thirsty'.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nodded to the lady. "Mistreated daughters? That is a pity. I may have to try to see what can be done about that. But first, I need to know that you are truly alright. The monster I slew, the strange ooze beast, what was it? How can you be so recovered so quickly?" After flicking some ooze off of him, he looks down at himself to inspect the ooze.

"How will this ooze affect my companion and me? Is it truly dead? I do not wish to leave until I understand fully what I faced, and that it is defeated forever. Will it reform on its own?"

Laying his blade against her tree, he began to brush off some of the ooze. "Jon, do you have some magic to produce water? Or maybe to remove filth? I have met mages who did."

[stack]

"Water I can help with."...

...After washing up and healing, Jon is ready to follow.create water

still need your HP to pick the right heals

[boldfont]

Yes, it is vanquished. You did well Sir Knight. It was the creature that made me unwell by forming its habitat in my tree. We Dryads depend on our trees. Our spirits are bound to them, and mine has seen better days. But thanks to you, I will recover. She says with a weak smile. There are others like it. It is the evil of the fallen knight that creates such wicked things. It has name to my knowledge. I think you and your friend should be fine now that it is killed. Already I feel life returning to my tree, and so the influence of the Bull must be gone too. For now at least.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nodded again. "Alright then. After visiting this family, I best go directly to the Bull. I pray no vile things come upon you before I have defeated the source of the evil."

I have 33 damage. Out of 65. So, half health or so. Whatever, I'm totally fine. Just bleeding a little bit.

[boldfont]

They continue their hike to the farmhouse. When they arrive they see signs of activity. Smoke billows from the lourve and though far away Sir Walter and Jon can see two women tilling soil in the field. Apparently they can see him too. One of them points in his direction and they both hurry inside the house. A short stone wall circles the property and divides live stock from crops. It may not be high, but it is long. It stretches for nearly a mile around the property.

They continue on their path. When they come to the wall they fail to find a gate. It should be no trouble to climb over it though... Strange that he should have such a wall when a fence would do. Stranger still that it should be so long. Most farmers don't feel the need to fence in their crops.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter appraises the wall for a moment then asks, "For keeping out slime critters and other beasts, you suppose?"

This property is within the Queens lands, this Sir Walter could enter unannounced, but instead he thought he would wait for the father to approach him. If the man keeps Sir Walter waiting unreasonably, however, the Knight will just hop the fence.

[stack]

Jon surveys the scene gravely. "Perhaps. Though the corruption we have seen would be little slowed by such a barrier. There is certainly a reason..." Keeping his daughters in? It seems ill suited to that. Or is there more to it than stone?detect magic

[boldfont]

Indeed, there is a spell on the wall. It seems the farmer has tried his hand at magiks in addition to cultivating rye. It is good that Sir Walter gave the order to wait. Jon cannot identify the magic used here, but he can see the magical nature of the wall pulsating in his mind.

They pass the time by swapping stories and jokes. It is moments like this one, between dangers, that the bonds of friendship are made.

Okay, I've got one. Two trolls are eating a jester. One turns to the other and says "does this taste funny to you?"

Not all the jokes they shared were good.

After waiting for a little more than an hour and making no effort to hide their presence, they observe a man, the farmer, leave his house and walk towards them. His face his cracked and worn. He looks o be about fifty, and of common stock. His crows feet give the impression that his eyes are constantly squinting, and his mouth line indicate a permanent frown. He carries a jute mat which he lays over the wall without greeting Jon and Sir Walter.

Climb o're then. Ya might as well come in and sup with us. We don get visitors off'n. Careful tha you only crawl on tha mat. As you may haf guessed, tha wall is enchanted. But don get it darty like a clumsy sow neither!

He's a grumpy farmer...

[stack]

Taking Sir Walter's (presumed) signal, Jon introduces them. "Good day to you. This is Sir Walter Johanson, knight of the Fairy Queen. I am Jon of the Green, his aid. We thank you for your kind offer of hospitality."diplomacy [roll0]

[boldfont]

Huh? the farmer perks up at Jon's infectiously cheerful disposition. By being so polite himself, Jon has artfully pointed out the man's own rudeness. He has used the same trick in the fairy court many times. Oh yes yes yes! O' course! I be Tyrone Fief, Sire. Or Sir Walter if you prefer. Forgive my rudeness. As I believe I said, we don get many visitors. Let me assist you o're me wall, Sire. Me daughters are making umble connie stew an rye bread, Sire. I do hope tha it don offend yer noble tastes, an if it does I got pleny o' wine ta wash it down wit.

It is amazing what a little smile and forceful pleasantries can accomplish, isn't it?

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter helped Jon over first and went second. "I am merely a knight, not a lord. I don't yet have noble tastes. Your initial demeanor nor your meal offends me. They send me off on adventures with little more than hard tack and water. Whatever your daughters prepare is likely better than what I am accustomed to at the moment. I've come here for a few reasons, but we can speak over dinner. Or perhaps after would be better. Rye bread though... that does sound good. I would said rye is likely my favorite type of bread. I can't say I know what Connie stew is though. I don't eat very many water based meals. They don't keep on long journeys."

[boldfont]

They walk together is silence. Farmer Fief is a man of few words. When they arrive at his home he opens the door for them in a clumsy attempt to be gracious. He cannot step out of their path and hold the door open, so Jon and Sir Walter end up shimmying around him to enter.

Inside it is a typical hovel. The central fire is burning hotly with an iron pot simmering over top. The first thing they notice is how over crowded this house is. Tyrone has eight daughters! Aged from twelve to twenty. Some of them busy themselves with housework or nursing infants. Those that do not stand up straight like soldiers at attention.

Please sires, set yerselfs down.
he says, indicating a log bench near the fire.

When they do sit, the women at the ready scoop out some connie stew (which turns out to be rabbit stew) into small wooden bowls the farmer must have whittled himself. They are also give a soft, though slightly blackened, loaf of rye to go with the stew. The meal smells good and looks hearty enough. Tyrone is served by his eldest daughter and he digs in immediately.

Needs salt he says.
We haven't any she replies.
Then tomorrow you'll take the collar an make tha trip lass. Tha goblin king will ave salt. See if ee has more o tha wine too. Speakin' o which... she dutifully hands him the wine. They be good gals, mmm? Wine Sires? So wha do I owe tha pleasure o this visit? Tha Queen upset I dinnah pay me taxes?

Sir Walter can't help but notice bruising on the faces and arms of some of the girls.

[stack]

Jon sits quietly, eyes sharp as we watches the situation unfold. Many girls...all young. Infants but no other men for miles. What wickedness has gone on here?

When offered food and wine, Jon takes only the least portion that will give no offense. Food must be scarce in this blasted land and he needs it not. Waiting a polite amount of time, he broaches the subject. "We have been told that you have a well of pure water. Our task requires we go far into the waste beyond your farm, where sweet water is scarce."

[boldfont]

Aye, ah do. Yar welcome to it.

[stack]

<sip> "If I may, I have been granted some abilities as a healer. Do you, your wife, your daughters, or any of their husbands require any attention?"

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looks at the food for a moment then eats. "We aren't tax collectors. I'm a Knight in service to the Queen, sent here to protect the people here. We stopped by to offered services if they were needed. And to see about the water."


After tasting the rye bread, he smiles to himself. "Pretty women you have here. All of your own daughters?" Sir Walter would very much like a moment with one or more of them alone to discover the situation here. It would seem the best way to ensure such situation happens would involve deceit. "Wouldn't you say so, Jon?"

Rubbing his hands together, he sighed, then continued eating. After a pause he said "Do you have a bath? I recently encountered some living slime. It got a little grime on me before convincing it to depart from the realm of the living."

[boldfont]

<sip> "If I may, I have been granted some abilities as a healer. Do you, your wife, your daughters, or any of their husbands require any attention?"


Sir Walter looks at the food for a moment then eats. "We aren't tax collectors. I'm a Knight in service to the Queen, sent here to protect the people here. We stopped by to offered services if they were needed. And to see about the water."


"Pretty women you have here. All of your own daughters?"
"Wouldn't you say so, Jon?"

"Do you have a bath? I recently encountered some living slime. It got a little grime on me before convincing it to depart from the realm of the living."

Aye they are mah daughters, cept for the babies. Thay be mah gran daughters. They'r all mine o varying legitimacy. Mah wives ave passed on though. Tis a shame. They were good women. Is a long commute to the goblin king or mah neighbours but we makes tha trips when we needs to.

Ah mus say, I'm relived yer not 'ere to take a tax. We 'ave little e'nuff as it is. But wha water I 'ave is yers an you can spend tha night too if you be wantin'.

If yah think me daughters are so beautiful, why don ya marry one? You can 'ave you pick an with you bein' a knight an all I wouldn't ev'n spect a dowry.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Water coughed, then set down his bowl. "They certainly are pretty. But I would need to at least get to know them. I suppose we could talk tonight. Obviously young and healthy preferred. A brave Knight such as myself would like to sire a few of my own children. Not today, mind you, but in only a dozen or so more years. But that is awfully forward. I would only do so if they felt comfortable with he idea."

Looking at the women again, he actually considered the idea. At very least he could take one of them from an abusive place to live. But he didn't have time to be a good companion. He had to defeat the evils of this land, and several others.

[stack]

Already he forgets his station. "While the offer is kind, we cannot burden your hospitality for long. Great fear and darkness lay before us. Hopefully we can ease the difficulty of your trips. The respite here has been welcome, but we dare not tarry long."

[boldfont]

Sir Walter notices one of the girls behind the farmer mouth the word Please. It was short, and could have easily been missed, but he is absolutely certain he saw it. She is about sixteen, hardly a woman, and the bruise beneath her eye is a deeper purple. She carries away the bowls to a barrel that appears to be used for all things water and wash related.

Ah understand. Please come back to me humble home any ole time then Sir Knight. Millie an Megan will run you each a bath an will clean yer armour if you wish it.

It hasn't even been asked before twin girls with short (abnormally short) hair swiftly run outside to do just that.

In tha meantime, perhaps you'll humour an ole man with news of tha farry Queen. Finally sen someone what to off tha bull then 'as she? You mus be a powerful warrior then.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nodded, both to the girl and to the conversation. "It is true we should leave early. As for my strength, it is enough for the task. Enough to protect and serve those who need it." He sighed, and let his eyes wander across the room, making eye contact with a few women. "Don't worry, Tief, I will return once the great menace of the bull is removed. Then perhaps we can discuss things briefly. I cannot tarry here too long, but even if I do not arrange anything martial, my house does also need a good server girl. I can see you have them well trained in domestic tasks. "

"As for political news, I haven't any. I am a soldier more than anything else. I am only knighted for my abilities on the battlefield."

[stack]

Jon sees the looks, the bruises, and can draw his own conclusions. What can we do to help them? He keeps them here under the wall's enchantment to serve him. They are cowed and in fear. But to challenge him would both but us aside from our task and worse, violate the laws of hospitality. He invited us freely and offered the succor of his house, we cannot bring matters to a head while under his roof. And he seems canny enough to not be talked into violating peace anyhow. Even if something could be done, he must have some means of keeping the farm safe from the outside corruption, means that may not outlast his life. So as with the goblin king, we must let wrongs rest to prevent greater evils.

I hate it. But what can we do?

[boldfont]

Conversation is slow and awkward between the farmer and his guests. When Sir Walter surveys the women, making eye contact with each, he notes how different they all appear. The farmer did say something about illegitimacy, but some of the differences are striking. For instance, one girl is clearly a different ethnicity than the others. Her skin is a ruddy brown. Another has the most perfect straight blonde hair. They are all beautiful. When he makes eye contact he can read the fear in their faces. They are being held against their will, and some or all of them may not even be his daughters.

You pig! Says Fief What ya think ah should let em run off wit whatever lad comes round? You judging me, are ye not? I'm a good father an I'll not be judged by the likes of you.

The twins come back into the house and inform Mr. Fief that the bath is run.

Go take yer bath an get out of here.

Sense motive/bluff in private
Both Sir Walter and the Farmer succeeded on sense motive and failed to bluff. Sir Walter could not hide what he was doing, but he was also able to read the girl's intense fear of the farmer.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter stood up. "Pig? Lad? Who, exactly do you think you are addressing? You assume slight, and insult above your station. My motivations were entirely pure. I do not have the time to discover the worth of any of your daughters presently, and thus cannot be prepared for any serious matters. The suggestion of moving one of the eligible woman to my ancestral home is nothing short of appropriate. My family has more say in who I marry than I. So if I was ever to marry one of them, they would need to be approved by my family. Furthermore I have come at great personal risk in order to purge this land of evil. This evil does not threaten me or my lands, it threatens you and yours. How dare you? If you had not been so gracious prior to this, I would demand satisfaction from you.

I have done nothing ill. I have just recently slain a disgusting blob of corruption not but a stone's throw from your house. And you insinuate treachery? Sir Walter rubbed his face wearily. "Sorry. I'm a little edgy. A recent run in with a certain king has left me annoyed. And then I walked all night to get here, fought off a strange monster, and was forced to wait for hours to get access to the only refuge I have seen since I left. And then I get insulted for no reason. Not a good day.

[boldfont]

Ah care not 'ow many blobs ye slain and goode deeds ye done. We be content 'ere an never 'ad no problems before. Be annoyed all ye like "Sire". Ye said yarself tha you wasn't a lord. Jus a knight. Which means you 'ave a master, whereas ah 'ave noon. Tis mah land an I be tha master 'ere. An tha mastar o the land says 'ee won 'ave ye eyeing 'is daughters with no intent tah marry! Now get out!! :smallfurious:

Something is wrong. Both Jon and Sir John can sense that. Fief's sweet then suddenly sour attitude must have been brought on by more than a scrutinizing stare. This man is hiding something... serious, and now overcompensates for your suspicions. Indeed, what could hit a nerve so hard that he would speak this way to a knight? - a Knight that he was so impressed and formal with only a moment ago.

Calming down somewhat after Jon gives him a disappointed but diplomatic look, he says, Ye can bath farst if ye wanna, but then I wan ye gone.

Where have Jon and Sir Walter heard that accent before? He's probably a foreigner to this region, but it is hard to say where he is from. The Fairy Queen's realm is vast and diverse.

[stack]

Jon's voice remains calm and level. "But these lands are the queen's, are they not? Even if a usurper has claimed them for a time. But it is of little matter, this is your house, we your guests. Let us all remain civil and not bring evil on ourselves by breaking ancient custom."

"Now, I must say, as one with some knowledge of wards and protection, I would be fascinated to learn how you have kept the corruption at bay? You yourself appear to be in fine health."

trying to get him talking for more info, maybe he'll slip. bluff if needed [roll0]
diplomacy to calm things down [roll1]

[boldfont]

Har HAR! He bellows out a very nervous laugh. Beads of sweat are beginning to form on his forehead. Ah 'ave been rood 'aven't ah? Forgive me! Ah... thing ah mussta had too much o the goblin's wine. Ah don get many visitors. Yea I- just drunk is all. Should na 'ave yelled at ye an said wrongful things. Ah suppose ah am in fine 'ealth. Exercise ye know... Lot o'... exercise. An as for me safety, jus lucky ah suppose.

He looks nervous. Strange back peddling. Perhaps Jon has allayed his suspicions?

So, ye be here solely fer tha queens land? ... as ye said before. HA! I- I suppose you'll jus take yer bath an be on yer way like you said. Jus like ye said...

He was definitely convinced that they were after something else just before now. What is he hiding? Perhaps it doesn't matter, and Jon and Sir Walter should bathe and move on as he so obviously wants.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter gives Jon a confused look. "Fief, are you alright? Jon is a skilled healer. You may not realize it just yet, but I think you might actually ill. You proposed I marry one of your girls, then became explosively angry when I considered it. Now you are drunk off of very little wine very quickly. And your mood has swung very rapidly several times. I think Jon should give you a quick once over at least. Could be some form of disease."

[stack]

"Sir Joanson, if your bath is ready I can stay and entertain our host." He turns back to the farmer.

"Now, about your wall, by what means did you acquire such a powerful enchantment?"Part of the same question as before so I don't think new rolls are needed.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nods to his companion. "Alright." He hoped the man was going to find out was what going on. Jon seemed like the type of man who could do that, Sir Walter was not.

"Milady, where is the bath?" Sir Walter asked, as he left the room.

[boldfont]

Har Har Har! Of course I be pleased to see ye marry any one o me daughters. Twas a misunderstandin' ya see. Ah tought ye was eyeing them ta judge me parenting. Ah run a strict household ye see. Doont ah girls? The girls did not dare to answer. Har Har! But parhaps ye share the same family values ah do... Millie an Megan! Shoo the young knight ta 'is bath, woont ye?

The twins open the door for Sir Walter and lead him to a steaming wooden tub of clean water. A natural sponge, scented soaps, bath salts, and a bottle of perfume sit candidly on a wooden side table. These are very luxurious items considering the setting.

May we take our leave of you Sir Knight? asks the one called Millie with a weak voice.

Inside, Farmer Fief tries his best to convince Jon that there is no magic at work in this household. He claims to be a simple farmer that refused to leave when the usurper corrupted the land. He claims to have never encountered these dangers that Jon speaks of. These are blatant lies, but he holds a straight face while he tells them.

[stack]

"But then, what of the enchantment I saw so clearly on your wall? You know something of that, of course."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looked to Mille then nodded, "Please, take your leave, but before that, help me remove my armor? And when I am done washing, I would like a word with one of you, eventually. About this homestead."

[boldfont]

Jon cannot believe his ears when he hears the flat out denial. I told ye ah dinnah know anyting bout no enchantments or magiks. I'm but a simple farmer. Lies! All Lies! But he does not bat a lash while telling them. He clumsily attempts to change the subject.
Do the men an women o court still practice monogamy? One woman ta on man? then he explains himself With yer goode Sire Knight earnestly considering mah girls, ah tought I may try an pass bot the twins on 'im. Two fer one, if ye get mah meaning. Har Har Har!

Meanwhile the twins set about assisting Sir Walter to remove his armour. They do so gingerly and coyly. Resting a hand on his flesh for a second longer than is necessary and leaning in too closely. He instructs them on what must be unclasped, untied, and in what order. They give him timid come hither eyes and one blows softly on his ear, sending shivers down his back. Despite this overt displays of clumsy sexual interest, Sir Walter can tell that these girls are more than nervous. They are terrified, and may not even desire him. They are beautiful, but this feels... forced.

[stack]

It would be poor form to call him a liar in his own house, but I cannot credit his words. He is hiding much.

"You seem eager to downplay your abilities. Surely one should take pride in their work. No mere farmer could survive here. You have kept a fertile farm safe and productive amidst corruption and death. There is nothing wrong with pride in that accomplishment."still trying to get him to spill, appealing to his vanity.

[boldfont]

I have to give you something for that diplomacy...

Ho Ho HO! But ye dinnah answer mah question neither! He chuckles. Fief leans in close to Jon to confide. Wha sort o man are ye Jon? Before ah tell ye mah secrets, ah should like ta know. Answer mah question an tell me wha ye tink bout such a tradition, an ah'll tell ye meh little secret...

[darklink_shadow]

That changes my last post, but only slightly. I'll edit it and the end of that into here. Please re-read my last post, it is much shorter.

"Ladies, please. I understand your actions, but forcing yourselves will do you no good. Let me think this over, and come back when I am done washing to help me wash my armor, and we can discuss plans. I think you will find, ah, that clasp stays, uh... I think you will find my ancestral home very welcoming."

What would have been a very seductive mood is strongly killed when Sir Walter sees that they are forcing themselves to act in this way. Their hate for their home life and fear of their father drives them, and anyone who would take advantage of that is a coward, and a monster. But Sir Walter did not need the father to know he was not both of those things. Even if he sent just these two girls to his ancestral home, that would be two people who could live much happier lives. Maybe they could find love at the court, may they would not. But moving them there would be for the best, he thought. And they were beautiful. Many suitors would be interested. With a nod, he agreed with himself, Myself included. But that's for another time. I've work to do, and the fallen to vanquish. He thinks to himself.

Once his armor was off, he streched briefly, the feeling of being free from his armor was both soothing to his unhappy muscle, and worrisome because he did not know what was going on with this place, and he'd rather be armed and ready to kill. "Now that I now longer need assistance, please depart and return when I call for you. Do not return before. I've no interest in woman who has no respect for me, and would enter a room I had bid them not to when I had asked them not to. Also..." Sir Walter hesitated, "Don't be afraid of me. My house would treat you better, even if they ask for a similar amount of work from you."

Assuming they leave with Sir Walter's heavy armor removed, Sir Walter will finish disrobing, wash using only the water and the sponge without any of the chemicals left behind for him. He didn't need to smell nice, or even get all that clean. He just needed to get slime and sweat off him. Running a hand through his hair he sighs. What a pity. So many beautiful girls and all stuck with an abusive father. It's too... Wait. That's a little odd.

Sir Walter wondered again what was going on. He felt suddenly trapped. He got up and dried off quickly, and set his sword to the side, on the opposite side of the room. He wasn't sure what, but something didn't seem right. Maybe there was magic at play here, maybe corruption. But how could their be so many beautiful women here, whee nothing else lived? Maybe they weren't as they seemed, or maybe there was just powerful magic keeping the land healthy, and it influenced them. Perhaps... the food? Sir Walter regretted eating now, and wished he had refused the meal on some false chivalrous reason. But he felt the women were genuine. It is hard to fake fear like that... Sir Walter thought, but he wasn't a fool, even if he was suddenly paranoid, Maybe not too hard to fake though...

After getting dressed, Sir Walter calls for the twins to help him clean his armor. Asking them questions would reveal a lot, or possibly nothing, but that too may reveal something.

[stack]

I have to give you something for that diplomacy...

Ho Ho HO! But ye dinnah answer mah question neither! He chuckles. Fief leans in close to Jon to confide. Wha sort o man are ye Jon? Before ah tell ye mah secrets, ah should like ta know. Answer mah question an tell me wha ye tink bout such a tradition, an ah'll tell ye meh little secret...

"Of course, pardon me. I believe a knight taking multiple wives is yet frowned on."

"As for me, I but a humble servant and healer, well acquainted with failure and disappointment, my service lasting far beyond my expectation." He leans in, conspiratorially, waiting for the man's reply.

Rarely get to actually RP out this stuff, especially with a character that has the skills to pull it off. Note that his answer is completely honest even if he doesn't elaborate on the nature and length of his service.

[boldfont]

Inside
The old farmer seems pleased with Jon's answer. Inn't tha the truth? Aye! Ye serve an ye serve an ye serve some more, an ne'er do ye become tha master. Okay, ah knows some magiks. Trut be told Imma powerful wizard of sorts. 'Cept ah don know 'ow it 'appened. Ah Jus woke up one day wit a bit o the Fairy magiks in me viens! Ah put a spell on tha wall jus by imagin' it. Any lout who tries ta climb o'er me wall with no parmission is in for a "shock", believe me. Ha! Thars more, but I need tah know ah can trus ye with it. Ah always wannit tah be a courtly fellow meself. Mostly ah wan bettah land than this, nearer tah others. If ye can convince yer Sire tah take one o me daughtahs (or both o the twins) as his bride(s) and grant me some land, taday, then ah'll teach ye mah biggest secret. Me mos powerful magiks. he says with a wicked wrinkled grin.

Outside...
The twins carry away Sir Walter's armour to be scrubbed. They mechanically oblige when he protests to their "hands on" approach to service. The water is warm and pleasant and the luxury soaps and perfumes remind him of his stay at the viceroy's summer cottage one year. It was a grand time, though perhaps not Sir Walter's choice of lifestyle. He dries off and sees that Millie has laid out his spare tunic and undergarments from his bag. The ladies have followed his instructions to the letter and wait on the other side of the house for his command.

[stack]

Inside,

Jon nods, "I fear such matters are beyond my power...though I could confer with him. I would be remiss, however, if I failed to observe that those blessed with such gifts can earn recognition in their own right. The queen always has need of councilors in matters arcane and such men are...well compensated. If you were to tell me your 'secret', I may be able to take word when we return?"

"Of course, I will bend the knight's ear as far as I am able."

Really making me think about these posts!

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter calls the twins back into room after getting dressed. "Firstly, I would like to reiterate that you need to force yourselves around me. For, you see, as a member of the Knight's order I belong to, my family decides who I am to wed. Of course, I get some influence... what I mean to say, is... don't force yourselves. A good relationship may bud, but that comes with time. Anyways, tell me about your life here, honestly. Honestly." Sir Walter emphasized.

"I'm a mind to take at least one of you to my home... your father seems keen on it. And I haven't a reason not to send you to my home. If my family likes you, I have a few brothers, or myself eligible. If not there are other potential suitors. But if I am to do that, I want honesty from you now about what it is like here. I think that seems fair. Honesty for freedom, of sorts. I see signs of abuse, and a local spirit told me that things are not good here. I believe it is most likely that he sends you off to wed for prestige of sorts. If I do as I have been sent here to do, my family will have honor and prestige, I suppose. If your father is moved from this place to a seat of honor, perhaps his duties will leave him too busy to personally manage your sisters. If that is the case, the abuse I believe there to be should end. Plus the Queen's Capital could always use more fair maidens." Sir Walter added the last line in hopes of easing some of the tension in the air.

[boldfont]

Inside,
The decrepit old man scoffs at Jon's suggestion. HA! he laughs in a single burst. Yer Queeny would no be interested in the sorts o magik I speak of, Jon. Now, yer "Sire" will be back shortly, an ah 'aven't much time to shew ye. So ye mus gimme a real answer this time. What sort o man are ye Jon? Ye see, thar be two kinds o people in the world: Servants an Masters. An regardless o yer station ye be one o the other at heart. Yer friend thar is a servant, ye see. Always doin' whate'er he does for others, an ne'er seizing opportunity when it cooms. He be concerned wit right an wrong. Ah seen it in tha way he looked at me girls. But ye! Which are ye, Jon? An before ye answer, know this, it takes strength an a willingness to do whatever it takes ta be a master. Is no fer e'eryone. But ah could use a healer friend an someone interested in coin an power. A like minded fella. If this is you, ah'll shew ye mah secret Jon. If ye set on being an unsatisfied servant all ye years, then bes o luck to ye. Ah hold ye no grudge, but ah can no be friends with such a man.

Outside,
The girls make a very wooden and forced curtsy. Their voices are even more strained. They answer, Sire, you are most gratious, but nothing is wrong.
We are not abused.
We... love our father.
Yes... We love...ve... our father.
We only aim to please- p-p-please... PLEASE... you.
Tears well up in their eyes. Their smiles are too big and their form too stiff. Something is terribly, horribly, wrong with this picture.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter nodded. "I see. Thank you girls, help me put my armor back on. It would please me greatly to look more regal when I return to see your father. Please don't cry, we'll sort this out. Somehow."

They are bewitched. Not just afraid. I'm fairly certain. Tears and smiles. I... Why is my instinct always violence...

[stack]

Jon smiles. "Have you ever seen one dressed as I that was not in need of coin? I always do what must be done to achieve my goals."technical truth is fun!

[boldfont]

Brilliant political language Stack. Bravo! It reminds me of Clinton's famous answer "I did not have sexual relations with that woman".
(Edited)

Inside,
The dirty old farmer smiles back. Har Har Har! Very well then friend, coom an 'ave a looksie. But don tell yer master. Or, should ah say "former mastah"?! Because whan yer done wit 'im, the tables will turn.

He moves some furnishings and flips back a tattered rug that looks like it held some value when the farmer acquired it, but the years in a farmer's home have been harsher than a gentleman's home would have been. Underneath is a small trap door with a high quality lock securing it. He pulls out a ring of keys from his pockets. Whatever could this man need with any key out here? Let alone an entire key ring!

CLICK

He removes the lock and swings open the door. A small stairwell leads to a dirt cellar.

Lucile? Go outside an watch the froont door. If Sar Walter coom round affer 'is bath, I wan you to distract 'im and keep 'im from enterin' any way you can. If 'e makes 'is way in, than tellum Jon an ah went for a short walk round the wall and send 'im thataway.

The twelve year old girl makes a small curtsy and without a word she marches outside.

Coom on Mastah Jon! Tis time to larn a new trick. An aff'r that, you'll get this Knight o yours tah marry mah daughters an put me on a farm near tha Queen's palace m'haps. Har har Har! His laugh invited Jon to join in his merry wickedness.

He descends the stairs motioning Jon to follow. Ah actually don need tah say a ting, but sometimes ah do jus to feel like am talking ta a real parson. Same reason ah still discipline them, really. Thay no longer larn per se, but ah likes tah pertend they doo. Give 'em dignity. The ladies got no will o their own, ya see? That's the trick...

It is dark in the cellar until Fief lights a lantern. Jon's eyes take time to adjust to the secret terrors that were beneath their feet the entire time Sir Walter and he ate stew with this... monster. A young girl of maybe fourteen years (possibly younger) is bound to a support beam. She is dressed in a crude burlap sack with holes cut in it for the head and arms. The poor girl is emaciated. When he removes her gag, she screams, so Fief strikes her with the back of his hand. Shuddap! he yells. She does not shut up. She is beyond reasoning or even threats. Only the fear is with her. So Fief stuffs the gag back into her mouth and closes the trapdoor and her screams can no longer be heard by would be listeners. Suddenly the slime they encountered earlier did not seem as wicked.

In the other end of the room is a stone retainer wall with a pool of water on the inside. Swimming in the water are wriggling black leeches, of sorts. They are a bit longer and more translucent than natural leaches, and these have no discernible bottom. With a grin towards Jon, and perhaps an eye watching Jon's face to see if he masks his disapproval, Fief declares These 'ere motioning to the pool are me daughters. He takes a mason jar from a shelf and carefully (lovingly?) scoops up one of the leech creatures.

In the centre of the room is a person shaped table with straps for the arms, legs, waist, and head. Referring to that horrid setup he says Ah need ye to 'elp me strap 'er in. Then ah'll shew ye how to be a troo mastah...

[stack]

Jon voice is soothing. "Your qualities are beyond question. This process, it is permanent? Or must you guard against it expiring or coming undone?"

[boldfont]

Inside,
As long as I yam near by, they does what ah thinks for them to do. Anything at all. he explains. But thar's more... He kicks her in the ribs a few times and then sets about untying her. Take the feet, if ye please. I gots the head an arms. Ah need 'er face up. He lifts his end of the semi-conscious girl, expecting Jon to lift the other.

Outside
The twins assist Sir Walter with his armour. They are quick, practiced, but now that Sir Walter has picked up on it, they are decidedly mechanical as well. They run a comb through his hair and apply a musky scent to his neck and wrists. Megan offers to provide a shave and a haircut with a straight razor too, but Sir Walter wisely declines.

When he is sufficiently regal, Sir Walter makes his way to the front. The youngest daughter, Lucy, is there grasping a bloody hand and crying. Somehow she has managed to cut two of her fingers off. Her eyes tear up, but she makes no sound. She is surprisingly calm considering the circumstances.

I cut myself Sire, an I need ye attention. she says. It is a surreal scene.

[stack]

I need to get Walter...but if killing this monster harms his victims I must know that first. Play along for another moment. Jon takes up the girl's feet to keep the man talking.he will feign losing his grip, then hit them with calm emotions and make a run for the trap door before getting the girl onto the table, keeping concentration on the spell if it works.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter gazes at the injured woman for a moment, then sighs. "I'll go and fetch Jon, he's a skilled healer."

Abominations. These aren't people. Skin draped over mechanical monsters? No, voice is too good. Shapechangers? Maybe.

Sir Walter walks back to the house, deciding to hold the sword in his fist, lest some arcane monster lurch from the shadows at him. With no one left to guard the door, Sir Walter entered, and looked around the room.

[boldfont]

Jon and Fief are not in the house. Fief's daughters are here. They are scrubbing Sir Walter's clothes for him in a small wash tub. The suds are piled high and the air smells faintly of vanilla. The girls have used an excess of soap. Another daughter scrubs furiously at the cast iron cauldron in which the stew was made. Yet another is rearranging furnishings.
The youngest follows behind Sir Walter clutching her bloody hand and carrying her severed fingers.

Your friend and my father went for a walk around the wall. she says, pointing past a row of trees. Is it true that your friend is a healer? Can he reattach my fingers?
Did either of them mention that Jon was a healer during lunch?

Not but a few feet below, Jon carries the legs of the farmer's ext helpless victim. He feigns weakness and clumsiness to delay the task and draw out the farmer's narrative.

Ye, so where was ah?

You were telling me about the lasting effects of this process.

Aye! So ah was! It is a bit o a mystery to me as well. As ah mentioned b'fore. I jus woke up one day wit these powers. This was affer the bull came an e'ry one else ran fer the hills. But ah stayed! Wha ah found was tha I can control me powers jus by wishin' it. Ah don know why but me thinks it be because o the land. Whate'er reason, my wife was a right ***** she was. Ye heard me. One night-

Jon drops his end of the girl.

HAR HAR! She's a fatty, ye? As ah was saying, one night the missus was lipping off an tellin' me ah 'ad to abandon the farm - blah blah blah - someting bout the fary Queen's command - and ah dinnah have the patience to hear anymore.

They flop the girl on the table.

So ah kilt 'er!

Drat! Jon knows this story is leading somewhere, but his stall tactics were not enough to get to the point. The next step is strapping her in. This is something he planned to avoid. Yet, Jon has a good gut feeling that if he keeps up the rouse a little longer then Fief will answer the question.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looked at the creature, then frowned. They had lied to him before, lied about the abuse. He didn't believe her. Jon wasn't by the well. But where was he?

"Lucy, count to four then tell me where your father is. And don't lie to me, that would make your father mad. Now that I am inside the house, I am a guest. You shouldn't lie to guests."

Just in case that doesn't work, Sir Walter walks to the one rearranging furniture and says "Tell me where Jon is, or better yet, why are you moving furniture?" Going to the one cleaning the pot he asked. "Where has your father gone? Where did he go?"

Finally going to the two scrubbing his clothes he says "Go see your father, go talk to him, he needs your help."

He hopes one ploy or the other will lead him to the truth. He isn't sure if he can believe anything they tell him, but if he didn't get a solid answer he was going to have to check the well to be sure, but something was terribly fishy, and these "women" were not human. Missing fingers and still so calm?!

Sir Walter was starting to lose his cool. Maybe the old man was about to turn his friend Jon into whatever these women were. Some kind of mindless slave, or something.

[stack]

Jon's fingers fumble at the straps. "I would expect no less from you. So, the lasting effects? It would be strong magic indeed to never need renewing."

[boldfont]

Upstairs Sir Walter eyed the women suspiciously. "Calm" wasn't the right word for this young woman whose fingers had been severed. She was clearly in pain, but why did she not act on it? Where was the screaming and the thrashing movement you would expect? For that matter, how did she lose these digits?

P-P-PLEASE! - Sir Knight, do not be alarmed. You are confused. Seek out Master Jon and father by the wall and all will become clear. says one of the daughters.

I am injured. HELP ME! -b-b-by getting Jon.
That way. says little Lucy.

They did not answer his questions. They are hiding something in this room, Sir Walter can sense it!

Meanwhile, downstairs Fief is strapping in his poor abused captive.
Ah be gettin' to it. Heh heh. Wait fer it. Trus me. Heh heh heh heh...
So, ah had jus kilt me wife. She wonn't obey me, so ah kilt 'er as ah said. Ah threw 'er body inna slough an went 'unting fer a replacement wife. Pleny mohr where tha came from, right? Buh when ah came back inna day tah bury tha corpse, ah saw a magical aura, ye see? Twas purply an beckoning me to slit 'er blotted belly open, so ah did! An inside were these... He holds up the jar with the slimy slug like creature flitting about inside. Mah daughters he says, indicating the creature. Both her arms and her forehead are tightly strapped in, but Jon's fumbling has left the legs. Oh, 'ere. Lemme 'elp ye wit tha. He switches places with Jon and continues his exposition. Ye suggested powerful magiks, an ye be right. Tis tha most powerful magic there is, tha purest form. Twas magiks born from me own desires ye see. The fate know tha whan a man makes an order 'ee ought tah be listened to! So they saw fit tah grant me mah remedy in this... mah daughters. Both legs are now secured. He twists open the jar.
As long as ah live, they'll do as ah say in me home. Tis the way of things. They'll marry who ah say, do as ah say, an ne'er disobey. Twas 'er own fault fer disobeyin' me. Buh mah daughter know bettah. An with you by mah side, we can cast off our rolls as servants Jon, an 'ave tha stupid woman who calls 'erself queeny, serve us! Don ye see? Ye mus 'elp me daughter marry into yer Sir Walter's family, so we can kill 'im an take tha land 'ee don deserve. Any man tha be soo weak tha 'ee serves a woman is nah fit tah be ye mastah. But we can change tha Jon. You an ah! 'Elp me put them in thar place. 'Elp me control them. What do ye say Jon? Will you 'elp me rise above mah station, an put tha women in theirs?

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter thinks quickly, trying to analysis the situation. These women are being controlled, obviously, because he can tell that somewhere inside them in a real person. But they act against him, which means the one controlling them, likely this "father" is an enemy.

He stops and tries to analysis his surroundings next. They were cleaning a pot, that's nothing. Moving furniture? That's something. Maybe there is a trap door in here? But why would they cover it with furniture, wouldn't that trap their father down there? There could be an alternate route out. Maybe by the well! But regardless, getting down there through the main entryway would be best.

But where is it? Under furniture. Going to be under a rug. Right.

Sir Walter keeps both his hands on his sword, ready to strike, and kicks over the furniture, and pushes around rugs, looking for the trapdoor he suspect, with good reason, must be here.

Ugh, I feel like I am metagaming, but also, seriously, I am sure anyone would have thought that too, so maybe I'm not.

Rolling for... search?
[roll0]

[stack]

Jon's face changes. The conspiratorial smile is gone, his tanned mien grown taught. "It is all very clear. Things will change. You're evil will be purged from this place and your daughters will be safe." He lays a hand on the girl, warm light bathing her. "She will be safe from you for the moment."

Then he dashes toward the trap door, calling for Sir Walter and directing him to the secret access.protection form evil on the girl (to prevent any mind control, just in case. Have to be safe. Then moving back toward the trap door as a move, no AOO since he should be flat footed.

[boldfont]

What? Ye traitorous craven coward! Farmer Fief declared when Jon took off to open the trapdoor. The irony of the accusation was apparently lost on him. Jon was, in fact, being loyal. He found he could move no closer to his helpless prisoner. Something was repelling him. His hand would move no closer to his victim. He attempted to force his hand past the invisible barrier, slug in hand. He shook with the strain and effort it took. Capillaries in his face burst from the stress of it. What is tis witch craft ye set on me Jon? he asked. Again, the irony was completely lost on him. With a frothing mouth and a growl he flipped his slimy "daughter" onto the lovely young victims face. The instant that slithering slimy slug came into contact with her innocent skin it hissed, shrieked, shriveled and died. Ahk! Mah baby! he lamented.

You are totally meta gaming, but sometimes that is okay.

Sir Walter kicks over the stools and throws over the rug. The women, for their part, do not scream or react much at all. In fact, one of them takes a bashing in the shin because she failed to move as a normal woman would be expected to. Almost immediately he finds a trapdoor under the rug. He and Jon simultaneously open it and reunite.

Sire Jon greets him.

Jon Sir Walter replies.

The farmer? he queries.

Aye Jon answers.

Already they were becoming a close team. They understood each other. Jon backs out of the way and Sir Walter descends into the dirt cellar. He is only fifteen feet away, but the wicked torture table lies between them. Their eyes lock. Sir Walter sees nothing but contempt in this man's eyes.

[darklink_shadow]

"Fief, by all things honorable, I will give you one chance to explain yourself." A quick glance told him enough. Jon was not injured, and the man needed to die.

Walk towards the man, circling the table, he grips his weapon, hefting it a little. "I doubt you have a good reason though. Cruelty and wickedness is often are born from nothing but evil."

[stack]

"He has confessed to the murder of his wife, using the foulest enchantments to dominate the girls to his will, and has plotted to murder you and overthrow the queen. I have heard his explanation, it is nothing but basest avarice, hatred, and jealousy. His own lips have condemned him, and did so without force or compulsion. We are free from our duty as guests and are indeed burdened with the weight of executing justice as representatives of the queen." He clasps the knight on the shoulder as he passes, light spilling out to illuminate them both.magic circle against evil, may as well nip his nasty powers in the bud.

[boldfont]

Ye fools! he snaps Ah be in tha right 'ere. Ah was gifted bah tha fates on account o mah so called avarice. An wit tha gifted power ah'll bring tha low low! An make meself 'igh an mighty! Now ye will suffer fer upsettin' tha supremacy o man o'er wee women!

At the end of his diatribe the bound woman come to. She, naturally, panics to see herself in such a vulnerable position.

The wicked farmer ignores her. His eye narrow to knowing slits and he begins to blur in your sight. Very quickly, one Fief becomes many, but which is the real sorcerer? This is going to be a terrifying battle, for certain. But there will be no hesitation or regret in bringing this abusive madman down...


Initiative
If you win initiative you may be able to disrupt the spell with a hit...

Bad Guy [roll0]

Sir Walter Joanson [roll1]
Jon of the Green [roll2]

Initiative is pretty messed right now, but the way I figure it is - you gave him a chance to answer and then saw that he was casting a spell and reacted in time.

[darklink_shadow]

"I see. Then by the power invested in me as a sworn Knight of the Queen's lands, I will see you brought to appropriate justice: swift death. As Jon of the Green as my witness and jury, I have judge you now. Say your last words."

Sir Walter kept his calm, but that was a façade. Deep down he was furious, filled with righteous anger. The heat of rage warmed his blood, preparing his body for action.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the blade, his eyes shifted to the left, and again to the right. Then locked onto the Fief's. For the first time since leaving his home, he commanded his blade to lethality.

[stack]

"Faith will protect us from your wickedness. Face your just doom."mass conviction, +2 morale bonus to all saves for 50 minutes)Jon of the Green (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=540541)
M NG Leser aasimar (magic blooded) healer, Level 5, Init +1, HP 27/27, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 11, Flat-footed 15, Fort +7, Ref +4, Will +6, Base Attack Bonus 2
Quarterstaff +2 (1d6+1, x2)
VOP (+5 Armor, +1 Dex)
Abilities Str 11, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 10, Wis 10, Cha 24
Condition Conviction +2 save
Magic circle against evil (on Sir Walter, not shown in stats)

[boldfont]

In answer Farmer Fief and his mirror images reply, Tis you who will die todah, fool! Ah'll feed ye to me pigs!

I consider this hesitation, which the narration assumed you wouldn't have (LOL), a loss of initiative. Talking is a free action, but it is not an unlimited free action. The spell is now complete. If completed, will be: [roll0] mirror images. Roll an appropriate die to see if you hit the real Fief when attacking. A result of "1" means you target the correct Fief. Any other result means you strike at an illusion. Fief and his mirror images have AC 12.

Your go.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter smiles. "At least you're man enough to not try to weasel your way out of it. Too bad you couldn't be man enough to be a loyal and honorable citizen. I'll take it you have no last words then."

Stepping forward, Sir Walter arcs his blade into the Fief.

Sorry I reposted before I was ready... a little tipsy still from last night, I just quoted Jon's post and submitted that by mistake.

[roll0] Power Attack 3
[roll1] Power Attack 3

Sir Walter Joanson (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=539542)
M NG Wild Elf Warblade 5 / Kensai 2, Level 7, Init +7, HP 65/65, Speed 20
AC 20, Touch 13, Flat-footed 17, Fort +10, Ref +9, Will +7, Base Attack Bonus 7/2
+1 Merciful Greatsword 13/8 (2d6+6+d6, 19/x2)
+2 Breastplate (+7 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 8, Cha 10
Condition Protection from Evil

[boldfont]

Before the illusions can take form, and before the wicked sorcerer can make good on his threats, Sir Walter slays him with a single blow.

[stack]

Jon takes a deep breath, calming himself before he rushes to the girl's side, stepping over the fallen body without another look at it. He works to calm her and help her stand. "Peace child, you are safe now."

He will help her upstairs to check on the other girls as quickly as he is able. "We should come back to destroy the creatures that did his bidding once we have ensured the safety of those above."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter's eyes dart from one side to the other. "Jon, are you ok? I was a little worried."

Sir Walter looks to the tied woman, and sets to helping to release her. "There is a badly injured woman upstairs. I'm not sure how, but she managed to cut off her fingers. Can you check this woman first? I'm worried that this isn't over. Evil ones such as him leave disaster in their wakes. Something may yet happen. Can you explain to me what has happened here?"

[stack]

Jon gives his the full story when he has a moment, tending delicately to the girl's wounds once upstairs.

[boldfont]

When Jon Arrives upstairs, the spell is obviously broken. The women now console each other in tender loving arms and heartfelt tears of a shared traumatic experience. The young girl who severed her own fingers now sits pressing the towel over her wounded stumps while the other women comfort her. Her face is pale from blood loss and distraught as you might expect a real child's face to be. Jon tends to her wounds. The little girl explain that her Tour forced her to sever her own fingers against your will. All the women here have been dominated much as Sir Walter and Jon suspected. None of them are his daughters. He neither sired them, nor did he treat them as such. He had no love for these poor creatures. No, his true daughters were the disgusting black grubs that spawned from his wife's bloated murdered corpse and gave him the sense of control he so desired. But now that spell was broken. That arrogant man was brought down with a single righteous swing of the sword.

But something he said still itched in Jon's mind. His power was borne out of his dark emotional needs, and he admitted as much. Such raw power was the purest kind there was, he said. Obviously, purity in this case did not connote some sense of good or righteousness (not as Jon and Sir Walter would recognize it). It meant that this form of magic came from a primal wellspring. Jon was right to worry. These things tended to linger...

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter followed Jon, helping the nearly enslaved woman up the trapdoor. "So, gentlewomen, it appears you are well. I know life has been hard, but if you know anything about this that I can report to my betters, please share. Beyond that, do any of you require aid? Do you have homes? I offered it before, and I offer it again, but my ancestral home is open to any of you. If you are homeless, they will hire you, house you and feed you well. I must be off, so I cannot escort you to safety, but should you decide to wait here until I defeat the bull, I can take you to the capital with me."

[boldfont]

The twins, Megan and Millie, have a new determined light in their eyes. Megan smashes a stool and pries two legs from the wreckage to be used as clubs. They have warrior's eyes.

We can lead these women to this ancestral home of yours.

Megan has a fierce beauty, and her sister too. Now that they are freed, Sir Walter can see. This are not whimpering, sniveling chamber maids, but strong and independent women. They have an inner strength that has allowed them to survive these horrors. Whether this determination would be enough, he couldn't say, but by all appearances they were capable.

It is now the early afternoon. Jon and Sir Walter are battle weary and there isn't much day left. The women offer to tend to Sir Walter and Jon freely. They will give to Sir Walter and Jon what the despicable farmer had to take forcefully. The farmer's body is burned out in the field at the women's request, and the black spawn in the cellar pool have died without their father's wicked spirit to sustain them. The house feels more like a home than a prison now. The girls share stories of their former lives with each other and with Sir Walter and Jon. While they were prisoners they could not speak their minds, so that even after living with each other for years they did not know each other. But in a deeper and more meaningful way they knew each other better than anyone else ever would. They laugh and rejoice in these stories and the men's hearts are warmed to be close to such happiness.

Megan finds a private moment in this revery to ask Sir Walter, Were you really considering his offer to marry me? Us rather... Though I don't see how a man can or should have two wives. He cannot read her face. Is it affection or disgust? Women could be so complicated...

You must decide whether they will stay are leave under the twins leadership as they suggest. You have failed a sense motive check.

[darklink_shadow]

This is a surprise... nothing to do but be honest though. Dishonesty will only lead to strive and ruin. Especially with women involved.

Sir Walter nodded to Megan. "I can honestly say, I was considering. I would not take two wives, of course, that would be ... well, not honorable. Any implication of the opposite was my attempt at a ruse to trick... that man. And what would I need two for? I do not have any need for controlling people, I just want to grow old with someone at the end of my adventuring days. I would feel much too much stress needed to split my affections between two people. I would like to say though, that my opinion matters only slightly. As I will be away for long periods of time on quests for the Queen, I am offered very little tome to get to know a woman. As such, my family will decide on my options, and I have little more than a veto."

Stretching the back of his neck he paused. "I must say, however, that in the last few hours, ah..." Sir Walter stumbled a bit, but regains himself. "Taking charge, willing to lead a mob of woman a great distance, and speaking to me directly... you are the kind of woman I would hope to end my days with. I do not mean to be forward but... well, actually maybe I do. I do not want you to feel any obligations to me, but for some reason, I feel as if that shouldn't be a concern of mine. You've displayed more independence and self-reliance since you were freed, than many women do their whole lives. But, to be honest, well, no, I am finished. You've caught me off guard, and fully defeated me. The answer is yes, I was. You are very beautiful, and even when not in control of yourself, you moved with grace. Now you move with a warrior's grace, and act as one. I find those traits desirable, to say the least. Hopefully we can get a chance to talk further when I return from my quest, but that is more up to my family than me, and more you than them. For now, however, enjoy yourself, and keep the other women safe. They are not all as strong as you. I feel good leaving them in your hands."

I failed sense motive from a woman talking about love? Gee, really? :smalltongue: I guess elves don't have it much better off then. I hope i made him bumbling enough. I haven't been in the dating game for a while.

[boldfont]

Megan gave him a mischievous smile and challenged him by asking, How old do you think I am? If it was a loaded question with humans, with elves it was doubly complicated. When it came to growing older the question of age held no stigma except respect. A 50 year old elf could love a 500 year old elf. They were nearly immortal and free spirits. But when it came to youth, as it did here, the possibility of embarrassment was serious. Elves did not fully mature until they turned 25. At which point their appearance was set. They never wrinkled, only their aura changed. Megan looked to be one of those elves whose age and maturity were ambiguous. She could be as young as 16. In which case, his talk of marriage was horribly inappropriate. On the other hand, she may be one of those spritely looking elves that carry a free and youthful spirit with them forever. She could be 100! Certainly no more than that. He knew that many of the girls here were well under the age of maturity, and his stomach sunk. He hoped she was at least 25. This silence was incredibly awkward.

[darklink_shadow]

"Young enough to be admired and old enough to be respected." Sir Walter replied simply.

[boldfont]

Spoken like a gentleman! Ha! Megan was clearly aware of the difficult situation and hoping to make him squirm. He did not, and this impressed her. Today is our ninetieth birthday she assured him. Many of the girls here are very young, but we are not. We are from the far south and that monster mistook our shorter stature and infamous energy for youth. Your family would probably not approve. Indeed they would not! This explained so much. She was a wild wood elf from the jungles of Rasha-li. Her short spiky black hair, her large dark eyes like pockets of the night sky, her darker skin, and even the way she talked and moved all indicated she was of the southern savage lands. Hers were a fierce and passionate people. They were proud warriors, even the women, and markedly different from the elven maidens of court. How could he not have seen it before? But neither did the farmer, Sir Walter supposed. There were some at court that believed their races should not mix.

Wish me a happy birthday she said and then gave him a kiss that would be considered shameless where he was from. She then took off to join in the revery, leaving poor Sir Walter to stew with his conflicted feelings of attraction, confusion, and duty.

[darklink_shadow]

"Happy birthday!" He called, then sighed. It was not his place to decide anyways, and his family would never allow it. It was not his place to decide, but he couldn't help but be upset at what now couldn't be.

Such is life, though, I will get over it. He didn't have time for much depression, and there was plenty to be happy about. And yet, he would soon claim to be more tired than he was in order to go to bed earlier.

[boldfont]

Despite his exhaustion and early bedtime, Sir Walter did not sleep easy. That kiss, so unlike anything he had ever known in the more civilized parts of the realm, crackled in his memory. When he dreamed, it was of her and his controlling family, and the farmer.

Like most dreams, he woke with only a vague recollection of it. She was pleasant, happy and free. The farmer was wicked, miserable, and controlling. And his family was... well... his family! Just the way they always are. In his dream, was Farmer Fief part of his family? He was forgetting already.

He woke to the smell of eggs and ham. The girls went all out to make his departing meal a memorable one. After an early breakfast Sir Walter and Jon packed their things and set course to Castle Rock. The twins had organized the others into a motley troop. Sir Walter felt confident that they would be at least as safe on the road with Megan and Millie as they would waiting about the farm for his return.

He had since learned that Megan was not even her given name. It was her "tame lands" name. Something she had adopted during her travels north. She told Jon, who stayed up a later to listen to the girls share stories and celebrate, that her real name was Phavarti Sita. Or "Sita" for short. But she liked the name Megan and had made it her own. Before she was abducted, her and her sister were sent to petition the Fairy Queen for aid against a mysterious killer that plagued the tribes of her island. She and Millie were the most well spoken and educated of her people, so the task fell to them. Alas, that was ages ago. Now that she was free she planned to complete her mission. Sir Walter feigned disinterest while Jon told him this over breakfast.

They said their goodbyes and stuck out.

[darklink_shadow]

No longer busy saving beautiful and exotic elves that he would never be able to build a meaningful relationship with, he headed straight towards the keep. After all... if he defeated the bull sooner, he could go home sooner, and ...

Sir Walter sighed. "Jon, tell me about the Golden City?" He asked as they walked.

[stack]

Jon's face is a strange mixture of sadness and joy, mixed heavily with longing. "Alas, I have seen it but afar and in my dreams. Walls and spires of gold so pure it is almost glass, gates like gemstones, the streets teeming with those gone before, music as you've never heard. Peace. Joy. Rest. Do not look on it if you value anything in this world, for you would lose all desire to remain."

"But it pains me to speak of it over much. Let us go and take our rest. The dryad will be good enough to warn us of anything approaching. I would not linger o'er long here."I'm presuming we have reason to believe the girls will be able to get past the goblins without incident.

[boldfont]

They travel north and meet the river in short time. The river flows quickly and any fool would know not to cross here. They travel east looking for a suitable place to ford the river. The entire day passes before they come to a shallow and wide part of the river. It would be risky, but a strong man could pass here. A lesser man would be swept away or pulled under. The sun is setting, and they would be wise to rest and cross in the morning. The other alternative would be to keep heading north and east, but this would take them further from the castle. Over the course of this day this air has become more stale and the land flatter and more lifeless. They are still many miles from Castle Rock. Hopefully the air will not grow as toxic as legend says.

C2: new map coming soonish.

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter looked to his less physical strong guide, briefly sizing up his ability to cross here. Truth was, Sir Walter had never seen Jon attempt anything physically straining, so he really had no idea what Jon's power was. "Can you cross here? Or should we continue?"

[stack]

"Even when younger I was not reckoned strong, nor a great swimmer. I would prefer not to chance it if there are other choices."

[darklink_shadow]

With a nod, Sir Walter dropped his pack. "Let's rest for now and see if the crossing is easier in the morning. If not we will continue looking for a safer crossing."

[stack]

"Morning's light will make the road clearer at any rate. I will take the darkest watch."

[darklink_shadow]

Sir Walter set about cooking his dinner, then, once he had to wait for the food to cook, he looked up to Jon. "Tell me about the Bull. What was he like before this happened?"

[stack]

Jon's eyes grow distant. "Strong. A great warrior, like yourself. But proud. As time went on, mercy left him. He felt he was slighted in his service, growing greedy for recognition and reward. Even then, though, he fought for the queen, seeking reward and adoration for his might. It was some time before he gave himself wholly over to his desires."

He shakes his head. "I did not see it, at first. I should have. Lingering too long in the villages, absorbing the cheers of the crowd. Too quick to boast of his deeds, a seconds hesitation when praising anyone else, never lending aid when he could not profit. I should have seen it, but I did not, not until it had taken root in his heart, a dark thing fed each day by his greed and resentment."

[darklink_shadow]

"Jon." Placing a hand in his companion's shoulder, the knight shook his head. "You're much too vain, stealing another man's faults and mistakes. It is not something you should have. Would you blame yourself, too, that the warm sun leaves us each night?"

With another pat, Sir Walter moved to his dinner. "Maybe you should accept the bad things that happen and not dwell on them. It may be that you cannot join your golden city because you carry too much of other's guilt with you. The Golden City sounds like a pure place. You bear the weight of others' crimes. I don't know what I'm talking about, of course. But its something to think about."

[stack]

"Hmf. I know his deeds were his own, but i was to guide him, as I guide you and have guided many others. Perhaps there was nothing I could have done, perhaps there was and I failed to do it. I will not claim to be blameless, saying that I did what i could. No one ever has done all they could, the best fall short of the mark, no matter what. I cannot be perfect, I cannot earn my reward. So I live each day, taking the task set before before me, not knowing what the result will be."

"But do not worry. There is no room for despair, even though it calls. I have seen the city, fairer by far than the Queen's crystal tower. I will press on."

[darklink_shadow]

"You hold too much self-blame. I'm sure you did what you thought you should have done. But I'm going to drop it. I'll do my best. We'll defeat these Fallen."

[stack]

Sometimes I wonder if he even hears what I say. "Let us rest and continue in the morning."