[Dungeon World] All Things Under the Sun - IC

[potatocubed]

It's not really been a good month.

Thirty days ago, the four of you had never met. Twenty days ago, you found yourselves enmeshed in each other's schemes, caught in tangled plans that seemed to squirm free of your control despite your best efforts. Fifteen days ago, the net of fate pulled tight and you found yourselves stumbling - quite by chance - into the grasp of Eleria, the astrologer-queen of Larroth.

The arrangement she proposed was quite simple: you recover the Fang of El-Adrekh from the mad priest Valdis, holed up in the monster-haunted ruins of Sarthik Nor, and she'll use her magic to ensure an end to the soon-to-be-terminal run of bad luck you all seem to be suffering from.

It's not all stick, mind you: if you return the fang she's promised a decent carrot of a reward. It's just that Eleria's not the sort of woman to make an offer when she can make a demand.

It took a few hard lessons but you survived Sarthik Nor well enough and got out with the fang. Sadly, Valdis has so far proved as tenaciously indestructible as bindweed - and he's really not happy that you've stolen his oversized tooth.

That was six days ago. You stand now at the gates of Larroth once again, the guards as disinterested as ever. The Second Road stretches uphill ahead of you, leading into the heart of the New District and its well-to-do merchants, but down here by the wall it's all alleys and slums. Crowds bustle: wagons of goods arriving and leaving, mercenaries hawking for business, pickpockets working the crowd, and the assorted other vendors and publicans who make their living off travellers.

You set off up the hill - crossing the New District is the quickest way into Hilltop, where Eleria's manor can be found - but you haven't gone ten yards before you notice trouble heading your way.

To your left, a rake of a man with a thin moustache and a rapier at his hip lounges outside a tavern, watching you carefully. A casual gesture has sent a trio of rough-looking men in your direction, shouldering their way through the throng of people about their business.

To your right, a lone woman in a hooded green cloak winds her way through the crowd. Her expression is grim and her stride purposeful.

The woman and the men seem set to reach you at about the same time: what do you do?

[Chambers]

Farley

Farley stops and shakes the road dust from his cloak, turning his head to whisper behind him. "Trouble ahead." He bends down and pretends to pick something up from the road while shaking loose one of his bracelets. "My lady!" He says louder than necessary. "I believe you've dropped this." Holding up the bracelet he steps towards her and smiles.

"Such an easy thing to lose, lady." He says while keeping one eye at the rough men approaching. What's their gambit, I wonder?

Discern Realities on the three men, gauging their intent by their reaction to Farley's ploy. [roll0]

[Barsoom]

The approaching ruffians worried Hawke. He's seen their type before, pack wolves looking for an easy prey. He would prove them mistaken, as he did before many times. Steeling his gaze on the the trio, the warrior stepped toward them, hand on his weapon, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

[ExRealis]

Enkirash was lost deep in thought as the group passed through the city streets. A tooth, a priest, and a queen -- it all had to add up. But how? So far, his usually dependable mind had failed him and the minor spirits that he had the skill to summon up were no help at all.

When the group halts, the elf snaps back to the realities at hand. His sharp eyes pass between the suspicious figures. Enkirash may have been a stranger to the streets, but it didn't take much to reason that trouble was coming. In a whisper, he tells the group, "I doubt these ruffians will pose a challenge for the raiders of Sarthik Nor. But that rapier-wielding fellow seems like the ringleader. We should be ready to pursue him once we've dealt with the thugs."

He then takes a few steps behind the rest, knowing he can better serve the group, and survive, if he stays out of any eventual melee.

[Wargor]

A scowl settles across Herran's face, an expression more akin to an angry bear than a human. Tightening his grip on his staff he steps up beside Hawke, body tense and ready to shift at a moments notice. A rumbling growl erupts from deep within his muscled chest as he shakes a braid back out of his eye line. Any who looked into his wolf like eyes would find a beast staring back.

[potatocubed]

The woman snarls as she grabs Farley's wrist with a grip like iron, her eyes flashing an inhuman yellow before she masters herself. Farley's seen that look before, on Herran just before he lets his inner animal out to play. Herran knows it well. He can tell she's not like him - not quite - but this woman is carrying a beast just below the skin.

"You are in way over your heads," she hisses. "Which one of you has the tooth?"

OOC: Actual question: which one of you has the Fang? First one to volunteer has it in their pack.

Meanwhile the trio of thugs spread out to approach Hawke, giving themselves room to attack him from all sides. One slips on a set of brass knuckles, the yellow metal glinting in the late morning sunshine. The middle one steps forward, wary but not violent yet. His face is distinguished by a messy scar that runs along the left side of his jaw.

"You and your friends should come with us," he says to Hawke. He spots the woman talking to Farley and scowls. "For your own safety."

[Wargor]

Herran's attention snaps to the woman, the hairs on the back of his neck rising; he knew a predator when he saw one. Stalking towards her, he looms over her and Farley, pointedly looking at where she gripped his companions arm. "Release him she-beast, I have the tooth. Whats it to you?"

[Barsoom]

Hawke never was one to give in to intimidation. He drew Taladar's Fury, gripping it so tight his knuckles went white. He could take on three, but having to turn his back to the woman worried him Stay back. Who are you? More importantly, who is she?

[Chambers]

Farley

"That's quite a grip you've got." Farley says through clenched teeth. He bends his wrist and moves in close to her, making her hold even more secure but bringing them face to face. "He's lying, by the way." Farley says as his other hand slips into the pockets of her robe looking for something to steal, the theft obscured from her as they are so close together. "It's somewhere safe, but why do you care? Jealous that we got it first?"

Pick Pockets! [roll0]

[ExRealis]

Things were starting to get complicated. Enkirash knows there's something strange about this woman, but by the time any kind of a divination could be cast he doubts the information would be very useful. But he has another magic in mind. Keeping one eye on Farley, he begins to approach the thug who's stepped forward. As he does, he keeps his hands in full view, empty of any weapons. "Surely this is all a misunderstanding. Won't you tell me, your trusted friend, just precisely what is going on here?" As he says this, he places his hand on the man's shoulder. The moment he touches the man, a beam of soft light seems to extend from the elf's eyes into his. Hopefully, the group had just earned an ally.


Casting charm person on the middle thug.

[roll0]

[potatocubed]

Scarface scowls at Hawke and opens his mouth to speak, but as Enkirash brushes his arm and the elf's magic takes hold, his demeanour shifts abruptly. His tone becomes concerned, and he leans in to speak in an urgent whisper.

"Someone talked," he hisses. "Everyone knows you've got it, and everyone knows Eleria wants it bad. Luciano over there--" he indicates Moustache, who still lounges and watches "--reckons you'll pay for safe passage to Hilltop. But don't turn your back on him."

"As for her... I don't know her. Morris? Get rid of the wench."

On the other side of the little group the woman spots Morris advancing about the same time as she notices Farley's hand wandering towards her pocket. She wrenches his wrist painfully, twisting him about to put him between her and Herran.

"To me? The tooth is power. Leverage. Freedom. But we'll talk again." She nods at Herran. "You'll know when I call."

She flexes her grip and sinks her fingernails into Farley's arm, drawing blood.

"And now, so will you."

Morris closes in and the woman shoves Farley into him, then turns and runs for the alleys. Morris pushes Farley aside and gives lumbering chase.

Farley's wounds are minor and will stop bleeding in a moment, but they throb as if infected. Enter the timer, an idea I've swiped from Planarch Codex: there are six boxes, and the first is filled in. Later on, more boxes may be filled in. When all six are full, the doom comes to pass.

Farley's Mysterious Doom: [X] [_] [_] [_] [_] [_]

[Wargor]

Herran snarls after the fleeing she-beast, glad to see the back of her for now. Turning his attention back to the thugs, he strides over to Hawke and stands at his shoulder. "I fear we're in way over our heads" he mutters, scowling. "Whats the plan?"

[Barsoom]

Plan? Same as before, get to Eleria with haste. Hawke tries to get his companions going. As long as the thugs are nearby, the warrior will not avert his gaze from them, ready to repel any attempted agression.

[if/when some ground is put between us and the thugs]

Farley, what did she do to you? You're bleeding, let me take a look at that... He examines the cut...

Discern Realities on Farley's wound, if possible. Mainly interested in "what is about to happen" [roll0]

[Chambers]

Farley

"Quick to jump to dessert, are we?" Farley says with a wan smile that quickly fades as the pain really begins to set in. He grabs his bleeding wrist and applies pressure, massaging the wound until the throbbing subsides. "Hawkes got the right of it. We need to get to her royalness fast." He shrugs at Hawkes concern but offers him his wrist anyway. "Don't know exactly, but something doesn't feel right about it."

[ExRealis]

As the action swirls around him, Enkirash remains composed and polite with his new friend. "Thank you, good fellow, for your counsel. Though I hope you permit me to make a suggestion. If you really mean us no harm, then permit us to pursue that devil of a woman, and aid us if you can! A moment please."

He then turns his attention to Farley. It was the spirits who had led him to this one. Something about the way the man moved through the cosmic vibrations that pervaded all the universe had marked him in the elf's eyes as one destined for something greater. But if this poison, or whatever it was, should end his life today...

"A woman with the eyes of a beast... delivered through the nail... travels through blood wounds..." The elf lists off the relevant facts to no one in particular, paging through his tome-like memory of lore both magical and mundane.



I'm going to attempt to Spout Lore to figure out what is threatening Farley. Because of our bond ("he will play an important role in events to come. I have foreseen it!") I'll be taking the +1.

[roll0]

[potatocubed]

It's pretty obvious to Enkirash that Farley's been infected with lycanthropy - exactly which variant is difficult to tell so early in the infection but the animalistic behaviour of the woman suggests lupine. The good news is that he knows the recipe for a salve which will treat the disease if applied before the first transformation; he just has to seek out the right ingredients before the moon waxes full in three days' time.

Scarface looks pained. "Look mate," he says to Enkirash as the wizard examines Farley's arm, "you're putting me in a spot here. If I let you go, I have to answer to Lucian. Can't you just talk to him? He's right over there."

Meanwhile Knuckles is looking increasingly suspicious at the sudden change in behaviour of his friend. He sidles a little closer, eyes roving between Scarface, Enkirash and the wary Hawke.


Scarface is friendly, but he's not going to let you just walk away.

Question! How did Enkirash come to know the recipe for a salve to treat lycanthropy?

Farley's Mysterious Doom Lycanthropy: [X] [_] [_] [_]

I've shortened the countdown to make it map better to days. When night falls, fill in a box. When the fourth box is full... well, I'll work out what happens then if it comes to pass.

[ExRealis]

Like a torch being set ablaze, a wide-eyed look of excitement passes over Enkirash's face. But the joy of new knowledge fades somewhat given what he has learned. Still holding Farley's arm, he looks back at Scarface. "Of course, my dear boy. Just give us a moment to sort things out then we'll talk to your boss."

He then looks Farely in the eyes and tries to speak calmly, his usually sing-song cadence replaced with an almost lecturing tone. "That woman is a lycanthrope -- were-beast in less technical terms. She has infected you with the curse of lycanthropy and at the next full moon you will be irrevocably changed into such a creature. Which, if the old elven calendar still keeps time, is in three days.

"There is an antidote that, if applied before then, will save you. A salve that consists of kelasilor... umm... wolf's bane... iamove... er... witch's hazel? Ulii ... how do you humans call them... the little onions?" He traces the shape of a shallot with his fingertips.

"And a few other things as well. Harren, I'm sure you'll be able to help with this.

So, companions, what do you say we do now? We'll have to deal with these men surrounding us first, I should think..."



Potato-DM, lycanthropes are not uncommon in the forests where Enkirash came of age. Indeed, before he started practicing demonology, his mad oldedr brother intentionally infected himself, thinking it would bring him some hidden power. The family tasked Enkirash with gathering the ingredients for a cure to spare themselves the embarrassment of having a wolf in the family.

[Wargor]

"Dominate the alpha and the pack will fall into line" Herran adds, staring straight at the ringleader, Lucian. Striding past the thugs, he stops in front of the man and looks him over, before looking deep into his eyes.

"Well, alpha, will you call off your pack?" He asks, his voice steady but with an underlying tone of anger. "Why do you hide behind others, are you too much a coward to face us yourself?"

[potatocubed]

"Oh no, nothing like that." Lucian says. He waves a hand airily. "I just rather like this seat. Outside in the fresh air, a good view for people-watching - oh, and anyone coming to talk to me has put their back to my man on that table there, who is a fine shot with his crossbow."

A quick glance reveals the glint of a crossbow bolt in the shadowy space beneath the table Lucian indicates, held by a hard-looking man who keeps it pointed squarely at Herran's back.

"So please, sit down - without making any sudden moves - and let's discuss this like civilised men. Do you speak for the group?"

[Wargor]

"I did you a disservice, I thought you merely a coward, when really you are cunning. A worthy pack leader." Herran sits in the indicated seat, resting his staff up again the table and keeping a hand on his travel pack. "Indeed, I speak on my companions behalf. Civilized men do not, I think, point crossbows at each other though. But I am not a civilized man, so I shall excuse you. Now what would you have us discuss?"

[Chambers]

Farley

"Lycanwhat?" Farley stutters as he wraps his wrist with a bandanna and stuffs his hand into his pocket. "Werewolves actually exist? I thought that was just a legend..." he says and shakes his head as he realizes they're not out of the woods yet. Glaring at the running form of the lady he turns and joins Herran with Luciano.

Farley glances at the situation Herran's placed himself in and sighs. "So you've got our attention. What can we do remedy this situation?" He says and opens the bottom button of his vest, letting his uninjured left hand rest on his belt next to three gleaming throwing daggers held there.

I'm not sure if using the Defend move is appropriate here as there's no fighting going on, but that's the intent of Farley's actions (Defend Herran). Should I roll or hold off?

[potatocubed]

No need to roll to Defend just yet, since you're not really defending him from anything.

"I've got an offer you shouldn't refuse," Lucian says, smiling. He smooths his moustache with one finger. "Everyone knows you've got the fang. Eleria wants it, and that makes it valuable. The merchant lords want it because it's valuable. There's at least one band of religious maniacs who want it, although I don't know why. I don't know who that woman was either, but I'm sure she wanted it as well, yes? Very valuable. Very dangerous to hold onto."

"Now me, I'm an independent businessman. I don't want the fang. Wouldn't last five minutes if word got out I was the one holding onto it. But I do know a secret way from here practically to Eleria's doorstep, and I'm willing to share that knowledge with you for the low price of 40 coins. What do you say?"

[Barsoom]

Hawke lumbers toward the negotiators. Sounds too good to be true. Why the brass knuckles and crossbows then? To be put in action if we refuse this generous offer?

[Wargor]

"I think he expects us to feel threatened enough to cave in." Herran adds casually, his eyes flashing dangerously. "One crossbow isn't going to cowe us though, why shouldn't we just walk away?"

[Barsoom]

Hawke, always quick to offer tactical advice, adds, crossbows also take a while to reload.

[ExRealis]

"Alright, friend. Now we can have a talk with the man in charge and resolve this quibble, right?" Enkirash assures the charmed thug. Since the problem of Farley's impending werewolf-hood seems to have been put on hold for the moment, he joins the others.

To the moustachioed man, he asks, "Why do they want the fang at all? If you've heard anything about what the item can do, that would be considered valuable information."

[Chambers]

Farley

"Five coins." Farley says while his hand inches toward the hilt of one of the daggers. "Five coins paid when we reach where we're going. I realize that if you're just going to rob us later once we're in some secluded part of this journey then accepting such a lower offer might make us wary of your intentions...but lets be honest." He says and nods towards the crossbowman. "Your intentions were never noble to begin with. Five coins and the chance to ambush us at your preferred dark alley. I'll even try to act surprised when it happens."

[potatocubed]

"Okay, maybe we got off on the wrong foot," Lucian says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Brass knuckles and crossbows is just how business is done, round here. And you can walk away if you like, but you shouldn't - I'm trying to help you."

"I don't know what the fang does, exactly, but I can draw some conclusions. If Eleria wants it then it's big-time magic. Got to be. She doesn't trouble herself with little things. The... oh, what were they called... the Church of Kings, or something like that - they claim it's a holy relic. And it might be! Holy relics can be magical, or so I hear."

Alrighty, choices time:

Farley looks like he's trying the parley move, but 'the opportunity to ambush us later' isn't sufficient leverage to get Lucian to lower his price. If you can come up with something better - the promise of present or future riches or favours would do it - go ahead and roll.

If that fails, or it succeeds and you choose not to take the modified deal, you can just walk away and I'll tell you what happens next.

[Chambers]

Farley

"Sometimes such tactics are needed when dealing with riff raff but we're all gentlemen here." Farley says with a smile. He crosses his first two fingers and taps the hilt of his dagger then slides them down the sheath, then raises an eyebrow at Lucian to see if he got the message."Now that I think of it, you bear a passing resemblance to a man that a friend of mine was interested in meeting. Perhaps after we'be delivered the tooth I could introduce you? I'm sure you'll find it a worthwhile conversation."

Farley is making a gesture in Thieves Cant that basically says 'I'm a member'. He's offering to alert Lucian of any opportunity Farley comes by in the near future and let Lucian in on the deal.
Parley [roll0]
If Parley is rolled with Charisma subtract 1 from the roll.

[potatocubed]

"Maybe, maybe," Lucian muses. "I'm no Eleria, so I have to guess at the future like everyone else. But for now, my offer stands: take it or leave it."

As a group, you decide to leave it. The price is high, the risk of betrayal higher. Lucian sighs, but you leave his presence unhindered by anything further.

Hilltop is, predictably, at the top of the hill that Larroth is built on. You trudge up the Second Road, dodging merchant wagons, pickpockets, and preachers in service to gods many and varied. As you travel towards the richer parts of the city the wagons get smaller, the houses larger, and the thieves more sophisticated - but the preachers remain more or less the same.

After walking for a couple of hours you finally catch sight of Eleria's manor - but something's different. The fountain plaza in front of her home is filled with makeshift shelters and rough bedrolls, and a small crowd loiters there listening to a storyteller standing atop a large wooden crate. His voice carries well, the tale something about three brothers who gave away great treasures only for an evil witch and her minions to seize them all and use them for terrible purposes, forcing the brothers to unite to recover their treasures again. You get the impression that the evil witch is a stand-in for Eleria, making this storyteller either very bold or suicidal, but you also note that one of the brothers in his tale is named El-Adrekh - does he know something about the fang?

In any case, the crowd is restless and your destination lies on the other side of them. What do you do?

[Barsoom]

Follow me. Hawke pushes his way through the crowd, using a bit of a shoulder if needed.

[ExRealis]

"Wait, friends. Perhaps it would be wiser to take a moment for contemplation. You must learn not to rush into everything, after all," says Enkirash, pointing to Hawke with his staff. "The more we know about the magic of this... tooth... the better off we will be should it cause us even more trouble."

He then moves his way through the crowd towards the performer. As he approaches, he hails him with a friendly wave of the hand, and when his story is complete, moves in to engage him in conversation. "A fine tale you have told. I, myself, am a collector of lore. I have heard of this El-Adrekh in my research, but this tale of the three brothers and their nemesis is all news to me. It is, of course, not rare to learn that poor written records need to be augmented with the wisdom of an oral history. Tell me more of this mysterious tale, if you will. I've been hearing rumors of an artifact of great power in connection with the name of El-Adrekh. A claw or a tooth, I believe. Might you know anything about this, sir?"

[Wargor]

"I just want to be rid of this thing. The spirits of nature whisper to me, it is trouble." Herran states, following Hawke and trying to get through the crowd as quickly as possible.

[potatocubed]

Hawke and Herran begin their push through the crowd. The people here are surly and on edge, and begin to jostle back.

One of you two will need to Defy Danger to clear a path through the uncooperative crowd. Strength is the obvious stat to use, although if you can justify a different one you can roll that.

Meanwhile, the storyteller eyes Enkirash with suspicion.

"The tale is an allegory," he says, his voice rich and resonant. He is still speaking as much to the crowd as to the elven wizard. "The truth is that once there were three great powers - the Three Kings - and they left the world for a time. Their loyal followers seek the artefacts of power they left behind, to present to them upon their return - which is imminent!"

The crowd still listening murmur in agreement. Several finger carved wooden amulets of a three-crown design.

"But the enemies of the Kings seek their artefacts for base, wordly power!" The storyteller has gone full-on demagogue now, playing to the crowd. "The Fang of El-Adrekh is one such item, and Eleria covets it - but she will not gain it! What is your interest in the fang, elf? Are you another base power-seeker?"

[Barsoom]

As the crowd closes around him, Hawke shoves an unruly commoner aside to clear a path for him and Herran. [roll0]

[Chambers]

Farley

"Psst. Not a good time to draw attention." Farley says out of the corner of his mouth as he stands near Enkirash but not standing with him, trying to blend in as just another person in the crowd. "I've seen this guy's type before. He's winding them up and we don't want to be here when he's got them ready."

Farley joins in the murmur of the crowd and nods to the man next to him then motions to the preacher. "Just right. Time somebody said it." He says, using the mindless pratter as a distraction to glance between the crown and the speaker, watching for tells.

Discern Realities [roll0]

[potatocubed]

Hawke shoves a man out of the way, and then another, but the more he pushes the angrier the crowd gets.

A hard choice: You can clear a path for the group to reach the manor, but if you do it'll be the spark that ignites the crowd. Or you can stay blocked but keep the people calm. Hawke's choice!

[Barsoom]

Hawke's fingers clench on the axe haft again. He could easily cut a swath through the rabble, but how many will have to die? Will his friends be able to follow, or will the human sea swallow them? Not being sure of the answer, he stays put, watching for any signs of aggression.

Hawke will Defend whoever's nearby (probably Herran). Will roll if/when it becomes relevant