Let's Play a Game IC

[Defiantnight]

Link to OOC thread
Dice Rolls

Like mist in a valley, the lot of you have gravitated more or less together towards the port city of Lura. The port and its connected lake and waterways have been claimed by a small local band of pirates that control the (usually illegal) import and export of goods and services via boat, but their "governance" leaves the city itself and the land directly around it essentially lawless, as long as you're fine with punishment involving a sword to the throat or conscription, if you're lucky. The most direct threat to their leadership is you, if you choose to involve yourself; meaning nobody else in the direct area can, or will, challenge it just yet.

The pirates speak of strange happenings, however, and the superstitious sailors and bandits are either too grizzled to care or too unwilling to intervene themselves, in the strange happenings that have been going on lately. A bloodied healer with a piercing stare hides somewhere in city limits tending to the wounded, and an undertone of stark fear runs ripe through the underbelly of the city, both for the pirates and the outside world - they say even the dead are starting to walk, on top of everything the land is going through already.

The people of Lura are one of the very few remaining examples of "blasphemous" beliefs in higher powers other than the Church of Light, at least on this side of the continent, and the church would have you believe it's mostly because the monsters sprang up and are keeping Helios' churches very busy in the surrounding lands.

Your story begins here.

[ErebusVonMori]

In the ruined outskirts Mordecai would be standing with proud and noble bearing, an art he'd spent years perfecting, as he proselytised to the dispossessed of the city, the former mortal now turned wound on the material plane itself was clad in thick armour of extraplanar origin as an apparent halo of magical sigils hovered above his head, though in deference to his nature the armour had discarded its mechanical motif for a more gothic outlook, the helm a sunbleached grinning skull, the chestplate a stylised ribcage in an obsidian blackand the rest similarly artistic renderings of the human skeletal system.

Behind him, maintaining a rigid formation were his honour guard, thirty skeletons stood at attention in squads of ten armed with breastplate, sword and shield, both armour and bone polished to the point of gleaming, each apparently led be a skeletal sergeant in half-plate. Finally one skeletal, armed in much the fashion of the sergeants, stayed within reach of Mordecai at all times.

"We are told that the gods care for us, that they love us, their creations..." Mordecai declares, voice carrying far and arms spread to make it clear he was addressing everyone who could see him, "but we can see that this is not so, for why, if we are so beloved would they curse us with death. Death, the implacable. Death, the inescapable. Death, the patient, who comes to every man, woman and child, every king, merchant and pauper alike."

"A parent should love their child, grant them all that is theirs to grant, and yet they hoard their immortality for themselves, for the truth is that the gods do not love us. They fear us. They fear our ingenuity, their fear our tenacity and they envy our hope, for unlike the gods we strive, always ever upwards, to be greater than what we once were. Brothers and sisters I can make you greater than you once were if you have but the courage to stand with me."

He pauses to let that sink in before continuing, voice impassioned and rising slowly to crescendo, "Now many of you probably look upon my companions and think it is a terrible fate, and you would be right my friends, this solution is not perfect, but if this fate is terrible it is no more terrible than death itself, our souls used as little more than fuel in the petty wars of gods and devils. I say we deny them such succour, let them not use us to fight their battles. Those of you who are strong of will when taking my gift shall be granted life eternal, as I was, and those of you who are not so strong shall at least be eternal."

[Urist Mcmage]

Annavaria would be in the cellar of an abandoned house that she has been using as a temporary lab. Around her are the tools of her trade, gleaming scalpels, shears, needles and bonesaws. Her red hair is done up in a bun to keep it out of her eyes as she works, and she wears a smock, the color of which is impossible to determine underneath the bloodstains. In the center of the room, a sturdy oak table sits. A man is bound to it with leather straps, his mouth gagged and his eyes wild with terror. "Now now sir, don't struggle. I would hate to have to use more drastic methods of sedation." She picks up her scalpel. "I am truly sorry that I have to do this. Please understand, I do not relish inflicting pain. But I can do so much more good with your flesh than you ever will. Your flesh will become part of something greater. So please, don't struggle, and I will do everything I can to make this a quick and painless as possible." Annavaria leaves heads up the stairs to the market, she needs to get some drugs to numb this mans pain. "I am not a monster, after all" she says to herself as she leaves.

[Mathias1313]

There was a tugging, a feeling of urgency. Sylas had never felt anything life it before. It was faint but definite. Sylas followed this instinct, traveling in the guise of a 13 year old boy. A short fellow, maybe 5ft long brown hair, very unkempt, eyes a pale yellow. This form is very unassuming.
After getting off the boat that brought him to Lura, he could feel it… an underlying sense of fear, yes this place would perfect, there is much to feast on here.
After wandering Lura a bit, Sylas finds himself in the outskirts of town, where an impressive looking fellow is making a speech about death and the gods.
Sylas can feel the fear coming from the onlookers, as he wanders through the crowd, Sylas often closes his eyes and lets his arms extend just a bit so his hands brush against some of the onlookers.
Oh yes, Lura is the place I should be.
Sylas, even though he seems to be almost enraptured by the crowd, he is intently listening to the Speech-giver, meeting his gaze whenever there is no obstructions.

[Defiantnight]

A small crowd had drawn before the speech-giver - some distance away, for fear of the undead that follow his wake, but close enough to listen and observe his strange presence. Annavaria can hear a small commotion nearby the abandoned home her hideout resides in, and when she can see out the window, on the other side of the small open square is a small gathering of beggars, squatters, and ne'er-do-wells, in addition to a couple merchants she recognizes among them; a young boy makes his way slowly through the group.

Sylas can hear murmurs of disgust, horror, but also assent and agreement, as he slips among the unfamiliar faces. He can also see another man making his way almost unnoticed, going the opposite way, a distinct facial tattoo marring his features. The man makes his way back into town at a hurried pace. Annavaria recognizes him as a member of the Redearth pirate company that controls the town and the water around it.

Looking upon the faces and demeanor, Mordecai can see sparks ignited in the eyes of the crowd, but not all of them are in his favor. Nobody seems actively hostile, at least, but the social tension prevents anyone from being the first to have all eyes laid on them by rushing forth to accept the offer, and they mill about being unsure what to do with this... suggestion.

[violet42]

A lonely figure reclines on the top of a well-worn roof, back pressed to the stone chimney. She was loath to rest here in Lura since she was aware of the pirate government, but the strange sight of a gathered crowd here had made her take pause.

Araqa keeps her cloak’s hood up, a green-grey fabric that blends well with forests but less so on top of buildings. She is a human woman with curling brown hair and unnaturally golden eyes.

Wary of attention, she remains transfixed on Mordecai as he speaks, occasionally jotting a word on a sheet of parchment without looking. She doesn’t break her attention until Mordecai finishes and one man breaks out from the crowd, walking with a purpose.

Araqa walks to the edge of the roof. Perhaps I will stay in this town a little bit— it is more interesting than I had expected.

[niw18]

The qi'e known as dood was doing what he has done or the past month tormenting sleeping pirates, sailors, and dock workers with the spoken word of terrible shanties and sea songs only awaken to flood of fear and sight of a nightmare created penguin. During the day he would wounder the city of Luna taking eggs fish just for fun of pissing off rova. He would stop and watch man preach for a little before he stopped preaching and would walk away as he had pranks to pull. and would start going in the direction of the docks to hunt down some one wtach sleep and share his favorite quiche recipes with.

[Urist Mcmage]

On her way to get sedative, Annavaria passes by Mordecai. Normally, she would have neither time nor inclination to stop and listen to a preacher, but something about him is different. She is not sure what exactly, until she finds herself stopping to listen. After hearing so many other preachers, who speak to the masses of sin and damnation and the cruel judgement of the gods, she finds it refreshing to hear someone rebuke the gods for the injustices they commit daily. All thought of purchasing sedatives forgotten, Annavaria waits among the crowd, hanging on to Mordecai's every word. She stands there patiently, waiting for the crowd to disperse so that she can talk to this devotee of death face to face.

[ErebusVonMori]

"I know, I know..." He says softly, voice lowering slightly so that those interested will draw closer before raising it again, "I'm a necromancer, a dark mage by definition, but if angels can fall, and we know for a fact that they can, then so too can men rise. And that's what I want for all of you, to see you rise. Undeath is not the only form of immortality, it's simply the easiest to aquire. Those of you with the will and courage to seek another path to it please do so with my blessing, or if you're patient enough to wait until I'm done here today with my advice."

"I know you are fearful, that the world is harsh, that the toil of daily life breaks down upon you with the weight of a waterfall, just endlessly trying to break you down. I'm here to tell you that life can be better than that, that you can make it better than that. Imagine a world where you never have to say the final goodbyes to a loved one, never again have to fear plague or famine, where a fatal accident is regarded no more severely than a stubbed toe. We can make that world, together."

"Now I've always heard it said that you should not judge a man by his words but by his actions, thus for the next hour I will be here listening to any problems you need solving and my skeletal friends here can be hired for a reasonable fee for any form of manual labour you can explain in terms simple enough for them to understand, though only thing they won't do is kill other people for you."

[Mathias1313]

Sylas stops his mingling with the crowd when he hears Mordecai's next speech. He turns with a hop and a skip, makes his way to this necromantic preacher.
When he gets close to Mordecai, he bows deeply, Allo sir!.
The boy looks curiously at Mordecai.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sylas finds it interesting and quite unusual that he has met someone who 'seems' similar to himself.
Spot (1d20+8)[18] to determine any other individuals who might be interesting

[Urist Mcmage]

Annavaria steps up next to Sylas. She curtsies and says "My name is Annavaria Kells, pleased to make your aquaintance. Something -I am not sure what- tells me there is more to either of you than meets the eye"

[Defiantnight]

With the two of you approaching, you break the ice so to speak, and a few people from the crowd also scoot closer to speak with the preacher of undeath, to complain about problems or to learn more about his offer. A few people were immediately lost when 'reasonable fee' was inserted, walking off with proverbial noses in the air thinking he's trying to make money off them, for whatever purpose.

If necessary they wait for the two who got there first, but during the breaking up of the crowd and the chatting, Araqa can see tattood and grizzled figures making their way up to the preacher as well, coming from back towards the inner town. The pirates must want a word with Mordecai.

[ErebusVonMori]

He nods his head to the young gentleman in acknowledgement of the comment, before turning his attentions to Annavaria.

"My dear lady, I'm a self-professed necromancer in open defiance and rebellion of the gods, I can scarce imagine such a baleful secret that I would speak thus and still hide it. Now, and I do apologise, but I've already promised an ear to these good people and their problems if you want to talk once I've heard them out I'll be happy to..." He trails off, turning to face the approaching ruffians.

With a gentle gesture he'd indicate for the crowd to part and let the gang through, "Can I help you gentlemen?" The tone is carefully polite, almost insultingly so in its deliberate show of restraint.

[violet42]

More pirates, I think I can imagine what’s coming next. Araqa begins to move as close to the crowd as she can without being noticed. As quietly as possible, the gently glowing boots on her feet help Araqa to scale down the roof and towards the outskirts of the silent crowd.

Spoiler: OOC

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Would this be a Stealth check?

[Urist Mcmage]

Annavaria mentally goes over her options. Quickly coming to the conclusion that the pirates come with ill-intent, she looks around and analyses the situation. Seeing the potential for bystanders to be harmed if the pirates and Mordecai are engaged in a prolonged fight, she keeps her hand on her scalpel. "Pirates. Parasites who survive by preying on the weak and the helpless." She mutters under her breath.

[niw18]

Dood as making his way to the docks to torment the pirates thought of something he never told the preacher man all the cool quiche recipes he knows. He would turn around and head towards where the preacher man was last time in hopes of sharing all of his favorite quiche recipes with him The penguin looking creature would walk to the gathering of people and look around his never blinking eyes taking in all that is there and then notices the preacher man and a few others. Dood would make his way towards then only notice the pirates and smile a big creepy smile at the sight of the pirates then stop near the women the child and the preacher man. He would look to preacher man then pirates his tentacles just flicking about almost like he is happy.

[violet42]

Araqa scans the situation closely too, and seeing the tension rise she reaches behind for her longbow. Perhaps getting in trouble with the law here could make life harder, but this preacher is fascinating. He could be the key to the power I seek— if a fight breaks out, I’ll be on his side.

[Mathias1313]

The small child seems completely oblivious to the potential altercation as he hums little songs to himself as he skips around some of the dead things in some sort of game...

[Defiantnight]

The epifovians can sense ripples of terror spreading through the crowd as some kind of monstrous mimicry of an arctic bird waddles its way toward the necromancer, and tattood brigands shove their way through at the other end. Frustrated at their progress being impeded, the small group of pirates - maybe five total - start shoving bystanders out of the way. They don't have weapons drawn, but if the confused group of people between them and the group panics, that might change in a hurry. They don't seem to be able to see the penguin.

Mordecai's gesture and call has the crowd realize exactly where they're going, and they quickly scatter. The ones who noticed the small, tentacled penguin are fleeing from the area, and the others are spreading out to avoid the necromancer or pirates' ire. They finally have an unimpeded path toward the preacher... but this meeting doesn't seem to be what they had in mind, surrounded by a tense crowd and within throwing distance of a small army of undead.

Regardless, the one with the tattoos on his face, as opposed to arms or chest, steps forth as the speaker for them.

"Ye've got some nerve, rilin' up the people like this, preachin' without a permit." His accent is foreign to the area, heavy in thickness. Though, looking at the crooked state of his teeth, it may just be he has difficulty sounding polite looking like he contracted a nasty disease in his gums. "We'd like ye' te come wit' us, have a nice talk about the rules roun' here."

Spoiler: Araqa

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You can roll stealth if you would like to be unnoticed, especially if a fight breaks out.

[violet42]

Araqa tries to climb down the side of the building stealthily and join the outskirts of the crowd.

[Urist Mcmage]

Annavaria raises a glares at the pirate. "What rules, pray tell, have any of us broken." she says, her voice icy with contempt.

[ErebusVonMori]

Mordecai smiles behind his helmet, "Very kind of you sir, I too wish to discuss the rules with your leader. I believe he may be rather misinformed as to what the rules in fact are."

He turns to his undead legion, "Please my friends, don't hurt anyone while I'm away, not even in self-defence." His next remark is directed to the townsfolk, "I'll trust to the honour of you good folk that they in turn will remain unharmed."

With that he steps towards the pirates, intent on following them, "Well let's go have this chat then shall we, will there be tea? I do hope there's tea." Before dropping his voice low so as to only let the pirates and those closest hear him, "Oh and a word to the wise, if you intend to kill me I suggest you have a Pelorite priest on hand, if you don't then fetch one now."

[Mathias1313]

The child stops his skipping at the mention of tea, Tea, did you say Tea? I do so love tea! May I have some please sir?
He looks imploringly to First Mordecai, then the pirates, then Annavaria.
I will be ever so good.

[Defiantnight]

The tattoo-faced man catches the tone of Annavaria's chill and laughs boisterously, seemingly unaware of the necromancer's veiled intimidation attempt, and equally unfazed by the nearby undead. The men behind him seem tense and ready to draw weapons if anyone tries anything, however, looking thoroughly spooked and eager to get back to whatever they were doing beforehand.

"They wit' you, zombie?" The man must think the nickname funny in his head, because he chuckles at his own brand of cleverness immediately after. He refers, of course, to the glaring woman and tea-hungry young man that seem to have taken to sticking with him despite the pirates' approach.

Spoiler: Araqa's eyes only

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Please make me a listen check as you join the crowd. Few people seem to have noticed your melding into the edges of the crowd, none of which are the pirates.

Spoiler: Mordecai's eyes only

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Your keen vision, as you were looking around, caught a few things of interest. One, is the tattoo of one of the people behind the tattoo-faced man is botched... or possibly fake. Next, a rooftop skulker descended into the crowd at some point. Lastly, the tattoo-faced man bears an amulet with the religious markings of the Two Sisters faith. Mainland worshippers, such as the Church of Light, consider their pirate worshippers heretical cultists bound for the gallows, as the goddesses Aira and Tria are worshipped on the seas for blessing sex and violence, while their actual tenents include life, forests, and fertility, as well as war, justice, knowledge, and honor, respectively.

[ErebusVonMori]

Mordecai smiles unseen at that, "Not a zombie, friend, I have died yes, twice in fact. For some reason it refused to stick both times, and yet I breathe, eat and sleep still. It's most perplexing."

"And everyone living is with me in a sense, even you." He makes a show of seeming relaxed, "Because I know what comes next, the rolling hellscape of Baator, the screams of the damned as they're tortured into so much fuel for the Blood War. All I want is to ensure not another soul gets sent to that dreadful place, I suppose in many ways you could call me a servant of Aira and Tria, like yourself. Though what honour you find in oppressing these poor folk I'll never understand. I suppose that's the thing about a code of honour, it only has to make sense to its owner." He rambles on, slowly walking away from the crowd, wanting to seem quite harmless until the civilians are at a safe enough distance.

"Now I know what you're thinking, what possible threat can I be without my army... but you're thinking about it the wrong way around, you should be asking what sort of threat I must be that I don't think I need the army. I hope there's biscuits with the tea."

[Urist Mcmage]

Annavaria follows closely behind Mordecai, muttering to herself under her breath. "Damn pirates and their rules. They don't care about the rules when they pillage and steal, so why care now?".

[Defiantnight]

The man looks annoyed and disgruntled by the necromancer's antics. "The lot of ya tha're with 'im, come along." He says in a raised voice and jerks his chin in a forward direction while looking at his lackeys. They get a move on and scurry ahead to lead while he follows behind the two, and assumedly the boy as well if he hurries to catch up. None of the crowd move to follow, taking the invitation as a threat to receive whatever payment is due to him for his preaching, and their quiet is broken only by a sickly-sounding cough from the back.

One of the four walks backwards, speaking in a hushed voice to Mordecai, quickly and quietly, while glancing at the man as he calls to the crowd for a moment. "Hey, if you're serious about everything you said back there, take your undead down under the sewers." He promptly turns back around and hurries up to lead from the front in the hopes he'll take the hint not to respond in front of what seems to be the leader of this little squad.

Spoiler: Araqa's eyes only

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The noise is quiet, but distinct. Hidden by a hacking cough, you almost didn't hear it, but it was there: the distinctive clack of a crossbow bolt locking into place from a window above and behind you. As you look back, the bow pokes out above the windowsill and takes aim at someone among the people moving to head into the town proper - it's painted a dull, shineless black. A would-be assassin takes aim less than a story above you.

Spoiler: OOC

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Unless you make a show of it, please put your response, or lack of it, in a DM Only spoiler.

[Mathias1313]

The little boy skips and half dance after everyone. singing a slow creepy jingle. The biscuits, la la la la la, better have jam, la la la la la., he gives any of the pirates that he dances around a huge grin, quite off putting to be honest.

[violet42]

Spoiler: DM only

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Is the crossbow within 90 feet? If not, is it within 100 feet?

[ErebusVonMori]

Mordecai smiles behind his helmet, "So how much further to walk? Some of us have lives... well metaphorically anyway. And anyone who doesn't want to be involved in this unpleasantness, I'd recommend making yourselves scarce in case this little chat proves... unproductive. That goes double for you kid, I can't promise you'll be safe. I'll try but..."

He gives a deep sigh, looking to the leader of their little entourage, "Do me a favour and make sure the kid's kept somewhere safe."