Endless Rain IC

[ThreadNecro5]

Link (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?603608-Endless-Rain-OOC)


You have got here after four days of travel. You left in the rain. You woke in the rain. Right now it was, as always, raining.

You had all been sent out by mayor Allsam Harrier from the coastal town of Kikiso. Apparently Rudcairn, an outlying village, has not sent word in a while like all the villages have been this weather. You all were those who are skilled enough to go and look into their situation and came back with news. For coin of course, and the mayor was generous enough to toss in some extra silver for supplies upfront.

It is early and a rain-brought mists would make navigation hard if it weren't for the road, but rising a ways in front you see the walls of Rudcairn, a lighter block in them showing the open gates.

Then a figure staggers out from the gates. Not much can be seen but they are a large sort and in a poor state. They do not seem to see the four of you and only stumble onwards to little progress.


Everyone add two days of rations to your sheets.

Take a Perception check to see the individual in the gloom along side whatever else you may do.

I can also answer any other questions there may be.

[ylvathrall]

Anca stands in the rain, not seeming to care that she is soaked to the skin, her ragged-cut hair plastered to her scalp. She watches the gates, and a black sheen rolls over her eyes before vanishing.

"Dangerous," she murmurs, seemingly to herself. Then, louder, "We should be on guard. No telling what happened here."

[Denomar]

Tuvaster resembles nothing more than a rotund, sopping, ginger, walrus. His beard and hair are plastered down his front and back.

"That is little to no surprise. We are all dangerous. The sky too is dangerous; it continues to voice its displeasure at me. And I in turn voice my displeasure back! he hollers, then sputters as his sopping moustache is pulled into his mouth.

Shaking his head to free his eyes without much success the Dwarf sags.

"Let us be done with this. The Mother cries and the skies weep with her."

[DoctorFaust]

Emil peers out from under the brim of a floppy hat at his waterlogged companions. He squints at the stumbling figure in the distance, blowing water away from his face.

"We look to be in more danger of drowning than from attacks from that sorry soul," he says. "We're here to check on the village, so let us go and check on it. And maybe get out of this damnable rain for a bit."

Perception check: [roll0]

[ylvathrall]

"I prefer to be safe," the slight young woman says. She extends one hand to the side, and a blade seems to coalesce out of the shadows into it - long and slender and black as empty night. She grips it with the feeling of holding her best friend's hand, and immediately seems to calm somewhat. "I will take point going forward." She moves forward, wary and ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice.

[ThreadNecro5]

Those peering through the gloom can see in the figure's stilted movements they very much are big, a little too tall, a little too broad. Not human or elf. The cut of their clothing off, perhaps cruder or uneven. It's identity comes clearer and it's hard to believe...

Anca, last to make the observation and closing to investigate come face first into a bloodied, battered orc. He is missing and ear, and an eye is swollen shut, but he reaches an arm out. Emboldened by the presence of someone he makes a shambling dash with the last of his strength before collapsing into Anca. From beside it she can see it is alive, breathing laboured but there. The great unwashed brute stinks of sweat and blood as expected alongside some manner of rot.


Figure is an orc and collapsed into Anca, helpless.

Orcs are not native to the area having needed to come over or below the mountains. They are known to occasionally harass the northeast primarily but larger armies crop up every few centuries that tend to fall into infighting and break apart. The remnants of these are hunted down soon after or occasionally just merge into bandit populations. a few times in history larger invasions have came but have achieved little lasting results.

[Dimers]

The pale-blue-skinned undine immediately goes to one knee beside the fallen creature. "The hells is an orc doing here?" she mutters. She pokes at a couple pressure points hoping to provoke a reaction, and tries to quickly determine what exactly is causing that strange scent of rot.

[roll0]

[Denomar]

“Hey now free one. That is not a resting post!”

Tuvaster stumps over and pokes a finger into the orc’s shoulder.

[ThreadNecro5]

The pale-blue-skinned undine immediately goes to one knee beside the fallen creature. "The hells is an orc doing here?" she mutters. She pokes at a couple pressure points hoping to provoke a reaction, and tries to quickly determine what exactly is causing that strange scent of rot.

[roll0]

Oddly the heal skill does not list it can be used to diagnose a disease. I'll allow it anyway, treating it as per getting details from the knowledge skill

You take a closer look. The orc is a little thin but reacts slightly when prodded. His armoured shirt is speckled with yellow fluid, bile, signs of continued and persistent vomiting. The wounds, new and old, show no signs of infection so that is not the cause. The missing ear looks like it was from the teeth of something human in size and similar in dentition.

So, no infection, an attack, severe vomiting, and weight loss. Those and this creature has gone without food for a time if it is vomiting bile. The orc is in otherwise standard dress for it's kind so it came here healthy, was attacked after, became unable to eat, and lost weight fast. Those could be unrelated but with the smell coming from the orc and not from something on it the conclusion is ghoul fever.

The disease is more known from stories than from learning but it's said those infected suffer endless hunger and their bodies void themselves of all food that has been consumed and rejects more. From there the infected suffers the lessening of fine motor control even as the wasting disease takes its toll. When death comes the disease only becomes more active in ravaging the body and demonstrates more supernatural properties. While individuals vary their teeth sharpen alongside their fingers and the following night the corpse reanimates. Unlike the similar zombie rot those reanimated by the condition continue to have their souls bound to their body and remain fully aware if at the mercy of their new nature as their hunger intensifies. The resulting ghouls retail all their intellect and memory but prove aggressive to other living creatures. The disease is contracted from the bite of the undead ghouls.

That means the orc before you has a day or two to live at most without treatment and the smell suggests he will become a ghast, the disease somehow causing those that more effectively fight it off to become stronger creatures that exude a retched scent in unlife.


“Hey now free one. That is not a resting post!”

Tuvaster stumps over and pokes a finger into the orc’s shoulder.

Tuvaster finds that the green brute gives only a faltering grunt to your prodding.

[Denomar]

"Blessed mother. I have seen vast lakes of sulfur and dug the fertile soil. And this one smells worse than my ancestors drinking hall after three days of feast."

[DoctorFaust]

Emil draws his sword and stares up at the village gate. "Far more eloquently put than I could've. Missy, can you tell if it was something in the village that did this to the orc?"

[Dimers]

"Ugh. Gods and goddesses, I hope not. I think it's ghoul rot! Does anyone have some acid I could put my hand in for a minute?" Missy looks disgusted, but not serious about the request.

She thumps the odorous victim's temple soundly to make sure he's unconscious. "Look, the people who brought me up would have no moral objection to killing this orc before he can finish his transformation -- or for any reason, really -- but I'm not so completely sure of my knowledge that I want to kill someone over it. 'Mercy kill' or not. If none of you do the deed, we can just come back for him after checking around inside those gates ..."

[Denomar]

"That is a passing strange fancy. I have no acid for with which you might perform ablutions. Perhaps this green one could pass water. I'm sure it would be close enough. Are you sure its ghoul fever? His kind are known to be unclean."

[DoctorFaust]

The elf shakes his head. "If you think he's going to become a monster later, we should either tie him up or kill him now. And I don't have any rope," he adds pointedly.

[Denomar]

"Are you going to ask his opinion on this matter?"

He forks a stubby thumb at the greyish orc.

[Dimers]

"... Difficult to ask now," Missy says. "He'll be out cold for a good while. That part, I'm sure of. I don't know it's ghoul fever, I'm not a physician or a student of undead lore. But it sure looks that way. Emil, obviously I don't have rope either," she says with a look similar to his. No, she wouldn't have rope -- she hardly carries anything at all.

[ThreadNecro5]

Inside the walls of Rudcairn is not a pretty sight. With a better angle to view things from you now see smoke merges with the rainclouds overhead, although the worst seems over. Whatever is happening here the town is not burning down.

Even feet beyond the gate the emptiness is clear, the stables are without horses and across the street and a dozen aces down the sign marking the 'Woblin' Wheel' inn and tavern creeks in the breeze, the building itself doerless and quiet. Everything is too quiet and yet distant sounds greet you here and there.

The closest plume of smoke lies just beyond by what looks to be a granary. High pitched voices are loudly complaining in some guttural language outside it. You are unseen thus far as the pair of short creatures bicker outside a camp of sorts, a pair of tents having been set up near a dozen laden carts. The duo of what must be goblins are under a central hide canopy below which is a large bonfire filled with meat cooking on the end of long sticks and another fire burns at the rear edge of the camp. Despite the carts no animals to pull them can be seen.

[roll0]


Perception checks please.

Should any of you be starting combat roll initiative.

[DoctorFaust]

Emil grimaces, and then slits the throat of the orc. "If you led a just life, let Milani guide you to the afterlife," he mutters.



In sight of the goblins, Emil whispers to the group, "I'll try to sneak up on them to see if they've got weapons. But what do you want me to do if they are carrying?"

[roll0]

[Denomar]

“Invite them for a pint. Little scavengers...”

Despite his nonchalant air Tuvaster is concerned. If it really was the goblins that scared the townsfolk away there would have to be a lot of them. But with a ghoul infected orc and the earths dry grumbling he had a feeling things were about to get a lot worse.

[ylvathrall]

"No," Anca says harshly. "They're our best source of information as to what happened here. If they catch you sneaking, they won't want to talk to us."

[Dimers]

"Huh? Anca, do you mean they'd treat us badly because sneaky people are up to no good? I'm not sure goblins would treat us well under any circumstances." Missy looks wry. "Maybe if we have an obvious advantage. And I can arrange to knock a few senseless if it comes to a battle, so 'obvious advantage' should be easy enough." Spoken like a person who has been in a lot more practice sparring sessions than actual fights. The young undine woman does sound very sure of herself, but real combat doesn't tend to follow anybody's plans.

[ylvathrall]

"Speak," Anca murmurs, "for yourself. I am not the greatest speaker. But I think that they may be more like to listen to me than you expect. We monsters have to stick together."

She grimaces, though the change is not hard to bring about - rather, if anything, it is too easy. A simple twist, a shift in perspective. The cold and rain cease to be important; the fear recedes. There is no thought of guilt for the orc's death. No thought of fear for what killed him. Only the moment. The body follows a heartbeat later, and it's that which her fellows see. The human-seeming woman suddenly seems so much less human, with her patchy black fur and lupine ears and pronounced teeth, almost fangs.

She looks like what she is, now: the child of a tainted lineage, filled with lycanthropic power. Inhuman. The sword vanishes, a sheen of black rolling across her eyes. She smiles a ghastly sharp-toothed smile at the others.

[Dimers]

Missy shudders a little before responding, "Fair enough. You go first, then, and see what they have to say." She glances to Tuvaster and Emil to confirm they're okay with the plan.

[Denomar]

Tuvaster nods his fingers drumming a rhythm-less tune on the head of his axe.

[ylvathrall]

Anca steps out into the open, approaching the goblins. "Hail, friends," she calls. "How fare things today?"

[ThreadNecro5]

Anca:

Anca steps out into the open, approaching the goblins. "Hail, friends," she calls. "How fare things today?"

The bow wielding duo stare at you oddly for a second before one speaks something you fail to understand. It only just starts before the goblin swat it a blow causing it to stop and say something different, this time slowly and unsure of itself.

They do not understand you and you do not understand them.

Emil:

In sight of the goblins, Emil whispers to the group, "I'll try to sneak up on them to see if they've got weapons. But what do you want me to do if they are carrying?"

[roll0]
Using Anca's distraction you have been able to sneak around some wild growing bushes and around to the far side of the carts. Inside their loose coves you can spot half organised assemblages of mixed fabrics in assorted forms, vegetables, salted meats, bags of grain, jars, metal goods, in with random plunder. These are not orc or goblin work and are as is common for the region. The carts look to have been hurriedly packed.

You here Anca's voice
"You wi-" one goblin begins in it's native tongue, a smack from the other goblin interrupts the first. "Eh. Du. Uh." It struggles to correct itself before forcing out "You, With. Leader?" in broken orc.

While this happens your better point of view lets you see in the fire at the back of the camp is burning several humanoid bodies, more the size of you or the orc than the goblins.


[roll0]

[DoctorFaust]

Emil continues to try to sneak around to where the bodies are burning to get a better look at what species they are.

Stealth: [roll0]

[Denomar]

“I am with the mother. And everything else that stands upon her.”

Who or what was a leader? That suggested authority. How strange.

[ThreadNecro5]

Tuvastar:

“I am with the mother. And everything else that stands upon her.”

Who or what was a leader? That suggested authority. How strange.

The two goblins, only now take notice of the dwarf and go to ready their arrows before realising tis isn't a fight.

The duo struggle to converse before shifting to a hushed and smoother vocal pattern, their words unknown to you.

Tuvastar would not be able to tell anything about a leader was said, he does not speak orc or goblin, with Anca also unable to translate and Emil in no place to do so.

Emil:

Emil continues to try to sneak around to where the bodies are burning to get a better look at what species they are.

Stealth: [roll0]

The continued wresting with a language barrier from your companions makes an effective distraction.

With the flames between you and the goblin guards you can see there are at least three recognisable bodies but of what is obscured. They are burned through but skulls give a little help. One is probably human, the rictus-grin showing the expected teeth. The other two are harder to tell, sharpened teeth could be a orc or ghoul among the expected options, and the damage from the fire had removed other distinguishing features.

Meanwhile you hear the communication, or lack thereof with the goblins continue. As Tuvastar's words fail to land and the guards fail to bicker in orc they slip back into goblin in hushed voices.

"Beard with us?" one puzzles.
"This is strange. You sure"?
"They not attacking"?
"Get the meat watcher. He know what's happening"
"No! you"
"You want to know! you wake him!"
"No" uh, uh..." The last one trails off before looking to the group and pointing them to one of the nearby tents.


[roll0]


Meanwhile:
While you all are tying to figure out what is happening a voice calls out from the tent that was indicated to.

"Is someone-anyone there? Help! help please".

"Shut!" the voice is swiftly replied with in as much a grunt than shout.

[Dimers]

That sounds like a captive, Missy thinks, her lips squeezing into a tight line. ****ing goblins. She doesn't launch right into action -- gotta give Anca a chance -- but starts trying to estimate how close to the tent she could sneak without being discovered.